Gang Stalking – There’s a jail cell waiting for the women who beat me yesterday.

Yesterday when  the girls beat  me up, I left out a few details.  When the women turned toward me and I turned my back on them, one of them took my suitcase and  my handbag was hanging on the handle of my suitcase.  When I ran after them, my hat fell off and I had to go after it.  And I heard one of them say, “Well! Now we know she has hair.”   I don’t know what their obsession is with my hair. It’s not the first time they’ve mentioned my hair. At least my hair is real, the women who jumped me had on extensions and wigs. If I had to re-live the day, that’s the remark I’d make “At least my hair  is real unlike your fake hair!”  That really would have set them off.   And there four women, not three.  I noticed the woman who helped me had her camera pointed at me all the time.  The beating was a set-up. They wanted to catch me saying  something that would get me thrown in jail. Honestly, I can’t believe how calm I was yesterday.  It’s like I wasn’t even in my own body. It was sort of like an outer body experience. Before I knew the fourth women was part of the group, I calmly told her to get in her car and leave before the women came after her, and then I walked toward the library.

I wrote yesterday  I would not  go after the women, but I’ve changed my mind.  I am now trying to find proof  of the beating.  I wont tell you what I’m going to do because I don’t want to give them any advance notice about what I’m doing.  This time I’m going after them.  I’m  going to press charges once I find the proof.  I’ve had enough of beatings from the lowlifes.  They’re not going to get away with it this time.  I’m sure they all went home and had a good laugh about the beating I got.  And I’m even today, they’re still  laughing about the beating.  If I can get the proof I’m searching for, they won’t be laughing for long! There’s a jail cell waiting for them all. They better enjoy themselves while they still can.

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Gang Stalking – Get proof and put perps away for years.

The Burden of Proof (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Wooden kitchen table and chairs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, the perps are at it again.  They come into my apartment every single day as if they live in it. I can’t tell you how angry this makes me feel.  I know the people coming into my apartment.  There’s the man I caught from apartment 205, and the women from apartment 206.  I’m sure there are others.  I just haven’t caught them, but I will.  I can’t prove that they’ve been in my apartment, but I saw them, from a distance, right outside my apartment with my door open.  And everything is about proof.  Without proof, there’s nothing that the perp cops can do. And even with proof, who is to say, the cops will help us. I’ve  heard of  targets giving police proof and it “accidentally” disappeared”.  Sure, it did.

Anyway, the perps were in my home again and broke another chair to my kitchen table.  They broke the seat off, and the chair has a shorter leg than it used.  So now the chair is uneven.  I’m so glad I decided not to decorate my apartment.  What a waste of money that would have been.  As I’ve written before, I have very little furniture.  A table with four chairs in my kitchen, a bed, and some pots in my kitchen. They broke the tops off the covers to my pots.  So now, if I want to cook something and need a cover, I have to put something heavy on the tops to keep them from falling off.  They’ve stolen about five knives, so I have to keep buying knives. Other than these items, I have nothing else.

It makes me angry that these vandals can get away with what they’re doing to me and other targets.  That they can walk in and out of our apartments as if they live in them.  They seem to have no fear whatsoever.  They know that nothing will be done to them unless they’re caught in the act.  Because that’s the way it works.  They’re told to make our lives as miserable as possible without getting caught.

The thing is, once they’re caught, no one will be around to help them.  There will be no acknowledgement by the government that the perps work for it.  They’ll deny any knowledge of their existence.  So if you can get proof, you can put the bastards in jail.  Just make sure that you have triple copies of the proof.  Because if you turn your evidence over to police, you’ll probably never see it again.  Somehow, or another, it’ll get lost in their files.  Or they’ll deny you ever gave them anything.  So make sure that if you get proof you carry it with you wherever you go.  Don’t ever leave it home.  And if the police want proof, make several copies of the proof.  That’s the only way you’re going to stop the bastards.  And don’t tell anyone else you have proof.  Keep that to yourself. The less people who know you have proof the better. I know from personal experience how evidence can disappear into thin air. Make sure you get a receipt of the report you made and the evidence you gave to police, and always carry these things with you.

Try to get evidence of them doing damage to something you own, or going into your house or apartment.  You need real proof. Real proof is not someone walking down the street. It’ll just look like someone walking down the street and nothing else. Try to get them damaging your car, or throwing things at your door. And if you can get real proof, you can put the bastards in jail.  No government will be around to defend them. The cowards will be on their own.  Poor things!

The more  perps we put in jail, the less likely other perps will be willing to join in our gang stalking.

Contact info:  http://neverending1.WordPress.com

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Gang Stalking – Thanks, perps, for the proof.

 

Queen Creek, Boyce Thompson Arboretum, Superior, Arizona (Photo credit: Hawthorne01)

 

 

Sossaman Estates Homes in Queen Creek Arizona (Photo credit: Show Appeal Realty)

 

Spray paint cans (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Banksy in Boston: F̶O̶L̶L̶O̶W̶ ̶Y̶O̶U̶R̶ ̶D̶R̶E̶A̶M̶S̶ CANCELLED, Essex St, Chinatown, Boston (Photo credit: Chris Devers)

 

My family’s been in contact with me recently.  First, no one gets in touch with me and then everybody and his mother do.  They’ve all been instructed to get in touch with me.  It happens about every three to four months. They all come out at once and then they all disappear again.

 

And they don’t get in touch with me to say “hi” or “how you doing?”   No, I’m sent nasty messages from them. I have a nephew who sends me quotes, all the quotes hoping something bad  happens to me.  And then another sends me pictures of himself wearing all the colors I wear.  And then, there’s a woman I used to be friends with, who sends me pictures of herself almost  naked.  I’m not going to remove any of them from my Facebook page.  Whatever they send and say, I can use as proof.  Maybe, one day, I’ll able to sue each and every last one of the bitches.

 

It’s so nice to have family and friends like these.

 

Yesterday, Facebook sent me a message saying that someone was using my computer, but it wasn’t from my location.  It said that someone was using my computer from Queen Creek, Arizona. I’m in Las Vegas, so I don’t know how I can be in two places at once.  Maybe I’ve found the secret to invisibility.  I can invisibly go from place to place. Well, it  just so happens that I have family in Queen Creek, Arizona.  So some relative of mine is hacking my computer, or maybe they all take turns on the computer making fun of me. I can just see and hear them fighting over who’s going to use the computer to harass me.

 

And today, I heard someone with a bucket, but I ignored him.  I went out a few minutes later, and as I passed the wall, I saw black spray paint on the side of  the wall.  This adds a nice look to the paint that’s been sprayed all over the floor in front of my door.  I’m not going to the office and complain about it.  Every time I go to the office and complain about something, the manager tells the monitors and my harassment becomes worse. She’s a real snitch.  Just another perp in my life.  But, anyway, as I was saying, about the spray paint.  When I got downstairs, there were three cans of black and yellow spray paint on the grass with a black shirt with a big yellow “S” painted on it.  It’s from the guy in apartment 108.  He’s sending me a message that he did it, I guess.

 

But I’m not going to get upset, and I’m not going to do anything about the paint on the floor or the wall. Let them add whatever they want to my door, my wall,  my windows. I’ll just keep taking pictures as proof.

 

I have to thank them all for making it so easy for me to get proof  of my harassment.

 

Just another day in Perplandia.  Perplandia, land of the perps.

 

Contact info:  http://neverending1.WordPress.com

 

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Gang Stalking – Shoes, blouses torn?

How many shoes does one girl need? (Photo credit: Terriko)

Men Shopping for Clothing Accessories (Photo credit: epSos.de)

Every time I step out of my apartment, the man in the apartment to my left comes out.  He sits in his chair and looks me up and down.  He’s looking at me to see what I’m wearing, then he can report back to the monitor what I’m wearing and the monitor can pass it on to the gang stalkers.  The gang stalkers can then find me by what I’m wearing.

The man next door doesn’t have to look too hard to figure out what I’m wearing. I’m down to one pair of  jeans. The perps ripped all my clothes, or stole it.  My blouses have big holes and I can’t use them anymore.  I need  to buy new pants and blouses, but why buy new pants and blouses when I know they’re just going to be torn?  I don’t know how much money I’ve spent trying to stay looking half presentable.  But it hasn’t paid off.  I go out and they get to work tearing my pants and blouses as soon as I walk out my door.  Maybe the government is trying to get the economy going by having the perps rip our clothes. It figures we’ll have to go out and buy new clothes and push the economy forward. But I know that’s not the reason perps rip our clothes. It does it to make us poor and upset us.  The government spends its time trying to figure what will make us crack.  And, women, especially, like to look good, and if our clothes get  torn, it figures we’ll get so upset we’ll need medication.

By the way, the perps also like going into your house/apartment and destroying your shoes. They’ve done it to me countless times. I try to get into my shoes and discover someone’s removed the heel, or taken it apart. I’ve had to glue a lot of shoes together.

So if you’ve  gone out, come home and find your clothes ripped, don’t despair. It’s not your imagination that your clothes have holes, the perps have been in your home busying destroying your clothes. If you can sew it, sew it. Don’t throw it out, though, keep it as proof that you’re being gang stalked. Take pictures of the ripped clothing, because the perps might come back and steal the torn clothes to get rid of the evidence.

If you need new clothes, go to one of those thrift places to buy your clothes. Goodwill, Salvation Army, etc.  Don’t waste a lot of money buying clothing that will just be torn by the gang stalkers. I know you’re probably thinking “I don’t want to wear someone else’s clothes.” I don’t either, but what choice do we have? Spend a lot of money on clothes that the perps will destroy?

I certainly would like to get even by going into their homes and ripping their clothes to shreds. I can just hear them crying.  Boy, would I have a good time ripping pieces of clothing they own!!!  It would make me feel so good.

Contact info: http://neverending1.WordPress.com

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Gang Stalking – Off Topic – PostaDay 2011 – How do you know when you’re right?

I know I’m right when I have proof. If someone tells me that I’m wrong, but I have proof, nothing anyone says will convince me I’m wrong. Also, I can feel I’m right even if I don’t have proof. My gut tells me I’m right.  And sometimes someone will let me know I’m right by the way they act.  If they know that they’re not right, they usually won’t argue too much. They’ll keep quiet and try to change the subject.  That tells me I got them.

Countdown:  113 blogs to write.

Contact Info:  http://neverending1.WordPress.com