CHILD-MOLESTER ALERT!!! November 14, 2017

  Yeah... I've spent several days in yet another (sigh...) gang SLEEP-DEPRIVATION ATTACK!!!

  In recent days it was just the same animal noises tape played over & over with an occasional soft firecracker lit nearby. Easy to ignore, so I obeyed the Bible. If they persecute you in one city, move to the next. So I left Armold MD & moved to Anapolis MD. With only a slight delay the attack began anew.

  Last night, the attack was taken to the next level. At least 2 men (I heard them talking, children too... of course) who were in poor physical shape pounded on the trees not 25 yards from my place with what I'd guess was a plank or log after I got home shortly after dark until after midnight. My Ritchie Hwy/Boulter's home is isolated from my neighbors who I'd bet heard very little if anything.

  When I moved to investigate the very nearby "poorly made animal noises" they stopped immediately leading me to believe they were produced by someone watching on a small camera as I don't think someone that close could've avoided my search. I checked the trees and found the bark on some to be bruised & battered due to repeated pounding by out of shape men. How do I figure that? They didn't seem to be able to pound for long before tiring. Whoever is in charge of stalking me is surely slacking. Martin Oak would surely have coked those guys up & they'd have pounded like mighty molesters into the night. Poor show slackers. Poor show indeed.

  This has strained me physically & mentally. I'm probably what I'll call in the early stages of sleep deprivation. You get tired, mental abilities only mildly impaired. I've come up with "a plan", we'll see.

  What does this mean?

  Since I was "lured" here by an easily provable bait & switch con I can only conclude the gang, which boasts interstate friends from state to state in the molestor community (who as a courtesy tell me they all cover for one another... for a fee) I figure they wanted me here or nearby for reasons unknown... but I can guess (and none of my guesses are good). A simple frame-job or is "The End" for me. If so the gang has promised me 100 times that anywhere from 1 to thousands (the thousands is more recent) will die horrible deaths to insure the Gang's revenge for the indignity of "The Gym".

  Simply put... lots & lots of people are probably about to die. Quite possibly horribly.

  I suspect that if I am unable to extricate myself or get the proper amount of R.E.M. Sleep (look it up... cops) I will grow increasingly irrational, unpredictable, & all the other good stuff that comes with sleep deprivation.

  Simply put... the gang would NOT do this to me if their ducks were not all in a row.

  To that end I suspect that the... cop(s?) on duty last night responsible for answering calls to my address was indeed crooked, in case I called the police. Failing that the gang tell me they would normally keep them busy during attacks by pinning them to a single spot by creating family disturbances, bar disturbances & such where cops are pinned to one spot but no one actually goes to jail. I'd bet on the crooked... cop being on call.

  Driven insane by madmen for reasons of profit & revenge. Not as glamorous as... cops try to tell me.

​

  Please help me!

​

BURNING DESIRE... Retold...

  I'd run out of time to write this that cold winter's night when I couldn't bear to wait a single more day to write this tale. I got in about 20 or so minutes of typing & as I look back on it... wow am I doomed. Why you ask? I was rushed & wow did I skip parts, took too many shortcuts, & simply put sifting through drug & torture-impaired memories decades after the fact really isn't something one should do on the quick. Especially when people died. Actually, it's kinda typical in a way. During my police interrogations (Author Note: Notice I didn't use the term "when filing a Police Report", I used the word "interrogation" & make no mistake, the... cops surrounding me while I tried to convey my story in the past were not my friends & not a one of them took any steps to make the horrific burden of sorting through the horror & the deprivation an easier task.) I got flustered easy. I had... cops pushing the story along. Goading me, insulting me the whole while, & often my own kidnapper/torturer/mass-murderer... cop was present in the room & making demands & or cracking jokes as the case may be (Dirty Cop was really good at it).

  If you're a... cop or maybe even a Police Officer reading this you're probably thinking. "Who us? Why we & our brother... cops would never do that". All I'll say is... whatever....

  Soooo this is your Godsend dirty & skeptic... cops. Me... being foolish enough to tackle it again. It's the "proof" you needed is my guess. Then again, speaking on the outside looking in on you... cops, you know what? I was going to make some cool point here. Now... I could care less. Read the story if you want.

  I smelled smoke... flames lapped the walls here & there. It was impossible to concentrate.

  Just like nearly every single story here I failed to give God the glory. Why? Because I prayed to God. Atheist me. I saw the fire, I couldn't get my mind working, I needed help.

  I came too inside of a burning building in the mid-80s. About 10-12 young men aged 18-40 sat in what I quickly identified as a rented Hall. At least 2 stories as it had stairs leading up. A fully-equipped kitchen. Tables galore. Set up like a party was coming so, or more likely had already begun.

  To say I was alarmed was an understatement. I prayed. I figured today was my last day & I was about to die a firey death. I recalled my recent gang-rapes, the tortures. The gang's bragging about my death in an arson fire & how it would legitimize their arson films they'd been making starring myself. I prayed God get me out of this. I needed a plan & I needed it now. Here's what happened.

  The other men just sat there, staring ahead as the case may be. Some at my table, some at the next table.

  I yelled to the men to come to their senses. They all looked drugged. Some immediately confirmed this. Others just sat there, their faces unchanged regarding nothing of the situation before us.

  I paused for a moment & fought the drugs clouding my mind & tried my best to asses the situation. We were drugged to the point where we were just coming out of it & sat in the building & it had obviously been lit on fire. I could tell if only because of the many points of the building on fire at the same time, none of them touching one another.

  I quickly explained our situation & instructed the men to awaken each other & I ran to secure an exit. The windows were not an option. Drugs have removed the reason why that was from my memory. The doors were heavily chained & when I suggested we yank on them Jocks on the other side of the door pushed back! I recall assessing the doorway & that door & it's frame were double well-constructed. There were 2 sets of heavy chain & 2 mighty locks locking them holding the door so it could open a few inches. There was no getting out that way. The chains offered a cushioning-like effect to our blows (yeah, "our", guys helped me).

  I ran up the short stairs & there was a hallway with solid metal doors on each(?) side. I checked several of the doors & they were locked. Other men checked other doors & they told the rest of us they were locked. A few quick kicks on the doors & I know there would be no going through them. I recall thinking of using the vending machine to batter a door down but figured it'd take too long, we had to leave, NOW!

  Men were panicking & I left them at the door (a few announced their intention to try kicking in each of the doors in case there was a window behind one of them we could escape through) & searched the building on the quick for a weak spot of any sort. I saw none.

  So I made a desperation move. About 6-10 feet from what I guess was the main door I picked a spot on the wall & began kicking it with all my drugged might. I suffer from Graves Disease. Look it up. It's symptoms are that it's victims are capable of great feats of strength..  WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! I dented the wall! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! I put my foot through it!

  Jocks on the other side of the hole walked over & looked in. Then they began to reach their hands through & tried to grab my foot & grab at the hands of the other men when they came over to help me. I could see freedom!

  WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! I kept kicking it! I expanded the hole a lil larger than my head & called for the now fully panicked men to help me.

  Men flooded the opening as we picked at it & instantly jammed all progress. I told guys to back off & they refused. I reasoned with them. There's too many of us, we cant get anything done. Ultimately... I told men to back off... or I would kill them & submitted I'd kicked a hole in the wall as proof I could. They refused & one threatened me back!

  Just then one of the guys next to me told them to back off or he'd help me kill them.

  incredibly one argued! He said we might live but we'd go to prison for murder.

  I told him this was a life & death situation & there wasn't a jury in the land that'd convict me.

  We got our room & resumed trying to expand the hole.

  The Arguer asked. "What am I supposed to do"?

  I was flabergasted the men stood around and had the gall to ask the question. WHile kicking I pondered the situation. Then I told him, them, that they should look around for any makeshift tools. See if the stuff in the kitchen could be torn apart & made into something that could help us get out. Why not have several guys use the vending machine upstairs as a battering ram & try to bust a few of the doors down upstairs? Maybe there was a window in one of the rooms on the 2nd floor? Why not try smacking a few of the guys still sitting at the table & seeing if they could get us a few more guys to help us?

  I'm not sure what happened about 4 of us picked at the hole, the others seemed to form a circle, said stuff, then took off. Some upstairs, some to the kitchen, & at least one started slapping the faces of the men seated at the table. HARD!

  I assessed the situation. We were making zero progress. None. Not... even... slightly... making the hole bigger. Things looked bleak. The smacking of the drugged men at the tables had netted us a few extra men & I recall at least 2 sat at the tables staring into space when I looked.

  One of the men came running from the kitchen with what he said was the handle to the oven & it made a very effective crowbar! Pieces of wall began to fleck off! I recall telling him to be careful the tool wasn't grabbed as the Jocks grabbed at my foot , the men's hands, & the crowbar as best they could.

  My heart skipped a beat when one of the Jocks grabbed the end of the crowbar & very neatly yanked it outside & into the darkness. I asked him to fetch another & when he said there was nothing else & since I was making zero progress I ran to the kitchen & assessed it. Yanking at it's many things I could find nothing that would yank free or be worth the time of yanking it free if it would.

  I returned to the  hole & the men had made little progress, a little. The hole was getting bigger, but would never be big enough in time. I'd have quit but I had no better plan. This plan was as good as it got.

  WHAM! WHAM WHAM! As I expanded the hole 2 Jocks, one on either side of the hole tried to grab at my foot & the hands of the men who helped me.

 

 

  Author Note: When I put a letter "g" in front of a word it will indicate the person is making a gurgling noise.

 

 

​

  I assessed the situation. Overall... I'd rate the grabbing by the Jocks on the other side of the hole to have been useless. They weren't impeding us at all & there were 2 men lying on the floor on either side of the hole groaning. But the taking of the oven door handle may have been enough to kill us all. I started to get... angry. GRRRRRRRR... yeah, I said it. Angry. I was scared, and now I was getting angry. So I selected a weapon, a 1" x 2" about 12 or so inches long with a much sharpened end due to the way it broke & I put it in my back pocket. Then I lifted my right foot up to the hole & held it there. One of the now 3 men on the other side grabbed my foot quickly & I grabbed his hand & yanked him in with all my might & his arm & head came lurching inside.

  The man wasn't like the 2 Jocks I'd seen at all. He was much smaller & while almost all Jocks in all my tales are about 18 years old this guy was pushing his 40s easy. I then grabbed the board & jammed it into his throat with all my might & suspect I ONLY stopped because I hit bone. Then I let go of the man.

  Mr. Pushing 40 said. G-GHELP G-GME G-GGUYS"! And the Jocks yanked him out of the hole despite the efforts of the men on each side of me.

  I cursed myself for not continuing stabbing Pushing 40 more & blamed it on the drugs. I tried to yank at the hole & watch what became of the men. All 3 of them carried him about 15 feet where he lay down & never got up from again that night.

  WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! The hole was getting bigger.

  WHAM! WHAM WHAM! As I expanded the hole 2 Jocks cautiously stepped up to the hole, one on either side of the hole tried to grab at my foot & the hands of the men who helped me. Failing that they were standing on either side of the hole when they each produced pistols & shot the men on either side of the hole! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! I didn't count how many shots total but I knew it was most of their ammo. I heard one complain they had no extra ammo.

  I told the men it was do or die! Some of us would surely die by being shot here. But at least some of us would live if we expanded the hole. POP! POP! POP! A few more shots rang out & another as yet unseen man rushed up & told his troops to quit shooting. There were too many witnesses! He ordered them to put their pistols away.

  We kept hammering the hole, expanding it as the flames grew! They fought us at 1st then the one in charge said there were too many witnesses now. He ordered them to stand back.

  Disapointed at out dismal progress the men from upstairs came running down. They'd used the vending machine as a battering ram & there were no windows to be found & nothing to be used as an improvised tool. I ran upstairs & saw the battered door & the vending machine lying blocking it. It was an office,desks tables, appliances, and nothing useful. Nada. Zip! Zilch! So I ran back downstairs & resumed working on the wall.

  WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! The hole expanded & one of the men noted we could crawl out. I said if we did they could plug the hole easily by killing the 1st man through. Arguer complained we should take our chances & I pointed out that surely they would because I could tell the Jocks had heard us shouting. Now we had to expand the hole or die.   WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! WHAM! WHAM WHAM! The hole was big enough to crouch down & step through & I pushed men back & lead the charge to freedom!

  Outside the building was in flames & shocked witnesses were close to us by the sidewalk watching. Not a one came closer than 30 feet.

  The men threatened us with their undrawn pistols under their coats (it was cold) to not try to leave or they'd shoot us & I told the men I thought they didn't have the guts to draw on us in public in front of witnesses. Nor the ammo to get us all. I suggested we turn on them but they put hands presumably on their guns in pocket & backed away. I had little appetite for charging 2 gun-armed men alone.

  Men were coughing, puking, & standing around. I saw them help at least one or 2 of the guys who were shot through the hole. Yeah... we were standing around. Myself I was unsure of where I was or what to do next? There's more than one reason the gang use drugs on their victims.

  Me? I was in a daze what to do next. While I ponder it Dirty Cop himself pulled up in a marked Bay City... cop car & accused me & the other men of arson.

  I accused him of a lot worse things.

  Dirty Cop said he'd just arrest us all & make sure none of us were here when the ambulances , firetrucks, & his fellow... cops arrived & then the gang would simply kill us in some other even more painful way as a punishment. He had the gun & could arrest us all.

  Me? I said we should all run. "He cant shoot us all".

  Dirty Cop said. "No I cant"! Pulled his pistol & leveled it at my face. "But I can arrest you"!

  The men all scattered but one who refused to run when i suggested he save himself. Moron.

  Dirty Cop & I exchanged insults & I chided him for not having the guts to shoot me in front of the witnesses. When he tried to cuff me I refused to turn my back on him nor put my hands behind my back & told him he could cuff my hands in front of me. To my shock he went for it.

  We were in mid-insult when to my horror I heard the screams of men. Dirty Cop kept his gun trained on me & told me he'd shoot me if I moved to help the men. I cursed myself for not helping the wounded men by the hole who didn't try to exit and the men who sat at the table in a stupor. The horror...

  When witnesses became agitated at the screams Dirty Cop yelled that the screams were not the screams of men, but the natural sound fire makes. It seemed to quiet them down.

  Then one of the men screamed to God and screamed he was burning alive! That we should help him!

   Me? I told Dirty Cop he could shoot me if he wanted but I was helping the men. Pistol at my head I ran to the hole and there was no getting near it. I yelled for the men to come to the sound of my voice.

  One of the men's final words through the smoke was "I cant tell where your voice is coming from"!?!?! Then he screamed all the more & went silent. The flames got hotter & with that we stepped away from the building...

​

  Author Note: You cant imagine the gut-wrenching horror inside me as I realized that I'd used my time, taken the luxury of insulting Dirty Cop with the time I could've used saving those men. Men were about to die & I was saying we should charge armed Jocks? Men were about to die & I stood around outside pondering my next move? Me? Me? Me?

  The horror... the horror...

​

  Duh Jerk & the 4 Stars came walking briskly up with a few more Jocks when the Ambulance arrived. The 2 Ambulance workers rushed to aid the fallen men.

   Yeah, yeah, yeah insults back & forth. The Ambulance workers say they'd euthanized the men with gunshot wounds & Pushing 40 would probably live but suffer brain damage as he'd lost a lot of blood. They gang up on me & drug me as the firetrucks come.

  I wake up at the fire going full tilt. A Fire Chief demands I explain myself in so many words & I tell him it was a kidnapping & a mass-murder.

  Dirty Cop was instrumental here, insisting I was certainly delirious from drugs or smoke inhalation or both. They could interrogate me later.

  One of the Gang comes to my house & tells me about it. I recall him instantly from the pre-fire gang-rapes/torture sessions. He said the gang went into full panic mode. We weren't supposed to live. They'd taken me drugged to an interrogation & the Fire Department were satisfied with whatever it's results were (if true I have no memory of it). The gang planned to blame me for the fire to wrap it all up and would because they were following my every move now & would soon film me at the scene of the crime. On that day, the day I dared revisit the scene of the fire, I would doom myself.

  Me? I told him no danger of that. I had no idea where it all took place. None.

  He told me he knew the fire took place somewhere in Bay City or near it. "Somewhere around here"? He just didn't know where?

  Months later Duh Jerk bragged it was his crowning achievement against... me. He said the gang were completely terrified the plan had failed & that men had scattered & went into full damage control mode & spared no manpower nor expense. Most of the other guys were picked up that very night & they made sure it was on unrelated charges. By threatening the other men of arson they shut'em up. Easy to do because each man was on his own & none of us knew each other. When I asked he said each Chapter of the gang had supplied a victim & threw a child-molester party of sorts. Using locked boxes (that would survive the fire) & by planting drugs after the fire they planned to make it look like we were holding a child-molester officer child-porn party of sorts & locked ourselves in because a worker came by & innocently chained the doors. The... cops would've asked very few questions. They kept me in a room on drugs on ice until each man had been dealt with leaving them to  accuse me formally in police records. Then their plan turned to once I was filmed visiting the crime scene (because they ALL figured I'd go back there) & Once I talked about the body count at the coming interrogation, which was never part of the "official" record it'd be game over for me & the witnesses there he didn't own he owned now & couldn't wait to pin the arson on me as revenge once his films had put them in a better mood. That and as revenge for the horrors the gang inflicted on them & blamed on me. "We tortured you because of him (me... they tortured the innocent witnesses because of... me they told'em"!).

  Duh Jerk bragged there would be no snitches to turn against him. The men involved we all chosen becuse they'd screwed up badly in the past & were told this was their last chance but it never was. It was all a set-up even against them from the beginning & they'd all been killed as it was planned from the beginning. Their participation in the crime only made it easier to justify their deaths & kill them.

​

  Still not done...

 

  I came too at the scene of the fire, a month or more after the fire. The 4 Stars were around me & wow, with the drugs I was on everyone was my friend.

  A flatbed truck pulled up along with 2 firetrucks & a dozen or more Jocks. We were all pals... in my mind.

  On the flatbed were 5 huge bundles of plants each bundled in a 4-6' wide circular bundle standing about 6' high. They were lit on fire in seconds & I and the 4 Stars stood around pointing at the flames & admiring them. The flames were very bright in my opinion considering the brightness & how little material was actually burning.

  In seconds the firemen put out the flames much to my dismay & I commented my disposal at the firemen's efforts to put out the fire.

  Duh Jerk stepped up, they'd gotten the film they needed. Then the 4 Stars beat me down. The Weird thing? Allow me to describe what & how the drug(s?) affect me.

  There drug causes a complete loss of long-term memory. It causes a "dream-like" state. I feel like I'm dreaming & believe me they use this to advantage, repeating that I and other victims are indeed dreaming often to keep us placid. The gang snicker that you really cant get someone to do something they wouldn't normally do in a dream. "With your nightmares there's almost nothing we cant get you to do". I've heard time & again. Simply put... the gang consider me a godsend... a gift, a fantastic ever flowing font of fun & the world's bestest ever get Out of Jail Free Card based on a lifetime of films & people they've influenced.

throughout my life. The drugs work like this. I'll make 2 lists. The 1st is a list of what I suspect a normal person might do in a given situation.

​

  The Weird Thing List:

  1: Fight to subdue

  2: Flight

  3: Bargain

  4: Beg

  5: Roll into a ball & do nothing

  6: Hold a conversation with your attackers

  7: Hope your dream gets better

  8: Act silly

  9: Kill everyone (I've said it before, telling everyone on their drug they're dreaming is NOT necessarily a good idea)

​

  Got it? Okay. Now the thing that confuses All Mid-Michigan... cops. Picture that drugs simply take away access to one or more things on the list. Since they are not on the list you will never even slightly consider them. Period. Further explanation not needed (except for Mid-Michigan... cops who by now are hopelessly confused). Now lets look at a few drug-addled lists.

​

  The Weird Thing List: (often)                         The Weird Thing List: (That day)     The Weird Thing List: (For me age 30-)

  1: Flight                                                       1: Chat                                         1: Hope your dream gets better

  2: Bargain                                                    2: Act silly                                     2: Kill everyone (like usual in bad dreams)

  3: Act silly

 

  The Weird Thing? The 4 Stars beat me down & I just talked with them. They beat me up & all I did was not slightly resist & talked. They beat me up & filmed it all... again.

  Duh Jerk boasted the film was priceless. Now he had proof that The Gym could never have happened because if i was half as tough as I claimed I wouldn't have let them beat me up. Now they could blame the fire on me and say the beating was a vigilante-inspired event too & that my beat down would be proof that I was there, that I was guilty, AND that the 4 Stars were not involved.

  I told him. "I'm not tough".

  He disagreed.

  Duh Jerk asked me why I never visited the scene of the crime? Then he told me they were watching me. The hole plan required I revisit the scene of the crime. Why hadn't I?

  I told him I had no idea where it happened.

  He said, after he called me a liar over & over (I think he missed his calling as a Bay City... cop?), that it was the rented hall a mere 5 or 6 blocks from my Michigan Street Bay City Home owned then by my Father (Honor honor honor).

  Duh Jerk also bragged that the 2 medium-sized firetrucks they used against me in the 2nd incident would be the nail in my coffin as the Bay City Fire Department did not operate any mid-sized Fire Engines at that time. He claimed the engines were on loan from one of the owners of the Bunga Bunga Garages (Bomb Shelters) that'd loaned them for the purpose of framing me all the more who collected antique Fire Trucks.

  I never went to the Police.. Well... not that I know of. Sigh...

  GULP!