32 - As a secretary, I can now proof what the state of our country, America the Beautiful, will look like in final copy. We are far from our country’s tis of thee, original potential intention. It will not be beautiful. It will look a lot like Albany does now. A condemned Benetton storefront. As the rest of our God Blessed America, is now becoming aware of the extent of eavesdropping, snooping, invasion of privacy, and petty bitterness, by whole American government agencies. Albanians (Americans as in Albany, and European), being citizens of the capital of such a great state, the other European kind being citizens of a former Godless repressive communist country, have been aware of for quite some time. We will be a country of paid informers, paid for passing information that is not their business, information illegally obtained, and information which is not required for any government or its services. This morning at no later than 9:30a.m., after using the facilities on the 20th floor of the 2nd building in the Empire State Plaza, it came to my attention, I could not ignore it, that there was an Empire State Plaza facility employee, I do not know what his official cover role is supposed to be, he had no identification or uniform, but only a walkie talkie making him official, who was loudly broadcasting that he just saw me walk out of building #2. I really think I have a trace on me - as I’ve previously related in other posts, I am frequently stalked, and ever since the New York State Police have demanded to hold my bags and look through them, I’ve noticed an increase in proficiency, frequency and accuracy in stalking. After listening to this wannabe important person broadcast, I was then shortly thereafter, accosted by one of the New York State Police’s Cop Queens (of course, they are not biologically female, but as vicious as any ill fed feline). I was told by “her” to take it/myself to the street. I think she’s lonely and wants company, because that is, of course, where she was headed herself. Anyway and Everyway, I had somewhere to go other than where she hangs out. She threatened to arrest me. I informed him/her, redundantly I’m sure, that the restraining order barring me from the Empire State Plaza is not valid (see previous posts). I was told by the clerk of the Court of Appeals, that since hopalong carter recused himself after it’s ordering, the restraining order would have to be reordered, which it hasn’t been, which, I believe, not even ms. Processed would want to put her name to such an order including a half mile square area as part of it, but I’m sure she’ll try it. Which brings me back to La Shiksa. Shiksa, the processed Hebrew (and that takes a lot of processing, I was a Word Processor, but at 110WPM, not even I could attempt that or would want to), this ms. Shiksa, the processed Hebrew, has been talking about my hair again. Dirty, dirty Shiksa. Earlier, as I was entering the bathroom on the 20th floor of said 2nd building, before I was scratched by the starving cat woman in uniform, there was a cleaning woman, she had ID and uniform, loudly broadcasting on her walkie talkie that she needed assistance right away, that she needed to change a mop head right away. God Is My Witness. She was hyperventilating in front of her cart, almost blocking the way into the bathroom. What cleaning woman speaks like this, “I need assistance right away” huffing and puffing, “with changing this mop head”, while looking at me with the eyes of a tortured fanatic. I kept my head held high and said Good Morning, and I informed her that the bathroom downstairs is filthy. Ha!! Actually, the bathroom downstairs was locked. Anyway and Everyway, I used the bathroom, took the stairs back down a floor, and waited for the elevator. Guess who comes out of the offices on that floor, another tortured looking fanatic, he looked just like that Chuckie doll, from the movie series, same face and eyes but without any noticeable scars, an official sort, with suit, but thank God no walkie talkie. It’s degrading enough to be talked about for nothing, but it’s even more degrading to be talked about through such antiquated communication. Anyway and Everyway, he made sure to let me see and know that he had the combination to this floor’s bathroom. I then proceeded on my way to my God given freelance proofreading job. Thank You God. I love you very much.
Posted on: Wed, 14 Aug 2013 16:09:23 +0000
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