Because Its Saturday…..

I thought it would be nice to post some uplifting flowers that were taken from my parent’s garden and my own.  I’ve talked about my grandfather’s cactus that had been dying, too, and the other plants I’ve lost, including losing my own health.  Also I’ve told about my friend Laz who changed my life by comforting me, by responding instead of running away while I was triggering like a hysterical little child.  Now the reflections of my past life are coming back to me without pain but as nourishment for my soul.  Laz reminded me of who I am/was/can be again.  So can you if you stay strong.  Find good things, even if its only some pathetic little weed or tree trying to come up through the crack in the asphalt.  I’ve been there.  I had a picture like that I’d taken during those darkest hours.  It was lost when one of my computer’s melted down, which is sad but there are similar others on the internet.  Today I want to lift our spirits with these pictures that have managed to survive, and I’ll also include two of me.  One was taken just recently and the other was taken years ago, shortly after the Ambien episode, as a professional photo for my return to work at Eagle Home Mortgage  in Kent that was short lived because I was being gas lighted by the manager in the office for the family.

I repeat these things because new readers might not go back to the beginning to read this by the chronology of my journey.  I repeat it, too, because it is what happened, and despite what was going on I want to show you I kept looking for beauty in my surrounding.

While the doctor’s family was showing me, I kept showing myself my own truth.  Don’t let their own projections change the truth of who you are.  Even if a snippet of what they are saying has some truth to it, the evil, inhumane distortion they are spinning it with is sickening.  It isn’t that you are sickening, it is them with their noxious-ness that is making you sick.


If I can beat them, so can you.  You can develop a resilience to their stupid gas lighting and you can even laugh with friends about the pitiful absurdity of them.  The people around you will begin to realize YOU are the cool kid, and the ones messing with your are yesterday’s trash.  Remember, my own integrity was matched against a medical doctor with a delightful sense of humor, as long as the joke wasn’t on himself.  And he had his psychiatrist father’s crony group, and his wife’s family, too, and then the Phd attorney into BDSM with judges and clerks. Yet my own integrity has withstood them all.  And I am far from perfect.  Just not as far from it as they are. Hahahaha!  Fuck them anyway, okay?  They are yesterday’s trash.

The pot of soup is for eating and for making organic fertilizer that I’m using to bring back what is left of my plants.  There is a picture here of my grandfather’s cactus that is starting to respond through the soil.  Also there is two pictures of the beautiful flowers that used to bloom in great abundance on the cactus.  They are the two pictures with two pink blooms.  The others are roses from my parent’s garden, and a couple are English. The difference from regular roses versus English roses is fragrance. English roses are not modified for mass production so they have retained their fragrance.    Other roses have no fragrance.

I’ve added a message to remind us that their reality is not ours, and they will suffer for what they do.

My friends have said the sweetness of my ex husband’s and my own relationship has come through my writing.  The original chapter of which that part was deleted by the hack showed my respect for him much more than this second edition has. But that’s okay.  As long as it came through that we were never like them, that we had a nice relationship, and that we never wanted to be like them I’m satisfied.

It is very odd to me that they really do think people want to be them, be with them, be like them.  Truly most of them do not even have their own style or taste in things. And its true its because they are too busy trying to impress people.  Remember, I lived among them, so I know.  One cluck even got talked into the most revolting kitchen remodel that he and his wife didn’t want because the contractor worked him in front of an audience at a party.  hahaha!  Yes, I am laughing at them.  They envied the wonderful kitchen I’d saved for and designed myself in painstaking detail.  Isn’t that odd people with so much money still envy what someone else has?  Those ones are an odd breed who really do lack appreciation.  Not all of them, but too many of them.  And their egos won’t allow them to see their own faults to fix.  On the most part, when they showed me that I recoiled and stayed away from them. Because with them a decent person will always walked out feeling slimed.  Rubbing elbows isn’t worth it.  But I tend to be the type to burn bridges, too, so take my advice with that grain of salt, okay?

But what they have they buy, and inasmuch as money can buy nice things it cannot buy good taste or good character.  It simply cannot.  Someone’s either got it or they don’t.  If you are here reading this, you probably have it!  So hang onto it, because it will see you through.  I promise.  Don’t let those bastards drag you down.  Just don’t.

The Irony Of Misappropriated Care, Part 2 Continued (Jan 15, 2018)

(To catch you up, the topic began with my friend’s expression of surprised pleasure that I own being a loose cannon, in regards to my own expressing to her the risk I know she took reaching out to me.  Some people who have reached out have faced some very serious triggering from me, and also they have seen from me an intensity that most people cannot handle.  Today there are only two matters I feel really intensely about.  One is rape and the other is my right as a woman to choose.  The motto, “Don’t Tread On Me” either means women too or it means nothing.  Tread on me and you’ll receive a verbal lashing that gets pretty ugly.  I know its been shown here.  It is what it is, and before what they did to me my wrath was always appropriate. Its getting that way again.  Thank God.  So, okay, the discussion about being a loose cannon began this chapter.  WordPress, that people think was being hacked and so do I, has been corrected on what appears to be its own accord.  Let’s get back to the chapter, and hopefully I can give it the feeling I’d given it before.)

………..That is when I became the loose cannon. By the end of 2005 the doctors practice was already gaslighting, stalking, pushing me around their game board and covertly fucking with my head so that by the time I landed in Valley Medical in early 2006 the Ativan they prescribed was nothing but a relief. Now, at this time I’m going to return back to March 2005 where in Bob’s office he was swirling with his fingers the wedding band on mine……

I was aghast. Oh sure I was in la la land about how well I thought

>>>Dear Readers: WordPress deleted the remainder of this chapter. I will need to rewrite it and another one written earlier today WordPress also deleted. It appears I may have to create another formatting to continue. Tomorrow my computer will be worked on, then there will be another day’s work for me to do to get it running. Thank you for your patience.<<<<

Bob was taking care of me.  And although the drugs had me thinking that way, the idea of him seeming to make a move on me, or encroach into the realm of my marriage upset me.  I pulled my hand from his and said very clearly, “I’m married!”

He wasn’t wearing a wedding band, himself.  And I seemed to remember that he had at the time when he’d done a minor surgery removing a mole some years ago from my inner thigh.  Was he thinking about that?  I don’t know.  I didn’t know what he was thinking or where he was getting his ideas from.  I only know I needed to tell him I am married.  My marriage was none of his business!  I do not know why he had made that appointment with me.  And later Don said he’d never talked with Bob about our marriage.  Don didn’t see any problems with it to talk about.  The reason Don and I got a divorce is because I was so upset that he had not done anything, had not called paramedics or 911 either on that night when I reacted so negatively to the Ambien.  And that was the ONLY reason we got the divorce!  It has nothing to do with Bob and nothing to do with the condition of our marriage.  We had a good marriage, until the night of the negative reaction from the Ambien that started me on over 19 days and nights without sleep.

But on the witness stand Bob said he liked Mr. Carswell.  So let’s take a look at just how well he liked Mr. Carswell, shall we?

First of all, he lied about my condition – twice.  Second of all, he never called Don in to confer with him about my condition, and early on I would have approved such a discussion.

Then he called me into his office on the first workday after I was released from the psych ward and was setting there pawing my wedding band and finger.  To this day I don’t know what was his purpose except that when I asked what he meant by “help” he found a list of counselors to choose from to talk with.  He didn’t even say why it was that I needed to talk with one.  It was very confusing.  I don’t think I ever said to anyone, including the counselor, Gary, that the problem was my marriage, per se.  I wrote on the forms that I had been in the psych ward because of the Ambien.  I always said that.  Yet Gary began prodding into my marriage, which of course I was still pissed off because Don hadn’t helped me that night or any other night after that as my condition got worse and worse.  We already know it was my mom who finally did something, and its a good thing.  Because I was otherwise getting ready to drive across the country to my son’s house where I knew when he would see me he would do something to help.  To this day I do not know what happened to the $4,500 I took from the bank that I was going to use to cover the costs to drive from Washington to Ohio.  To this day there is too much that I don’t remember, and the things I do remember are all shocking.  The doctor’s pawing my hand was too much.  But it got worse!

During the whole year of 2005 I was losing my mind.  I didn’t even talk like myself.  My voice was high and squeaky, when really my usual voice is rather husky and masculine in a feminine way.  I had lost my identity, and not only that but by October Multicare had pulled out my female parts, too.  I was flipping out all over the doctor because I needed his help and it seemed like he was more interested in something else.  Later it seemed to be his medical assistant Munroe.  Not my business, but she seemed to be making it so.

But if Bob had respected Don, if he had liked him the way he said on the witness stand, what did that have to do with anything?  He was lying again.  Maybe he was worried Don might shoot him. And Don should have shot him.  If the shoe was on the other foot I would have shot him for Don.  Or at least I would have done something!  Probably I’d have filed a formal complaint with his clinic and with the medical board.  But on my own I couldn’t even think straight.  And the doctor’s group, now I know it was his family, were overwhelming me and I was flipping out.  I did change doctors to Dr. Chen but during our appointment he was telling me what a great guy Dr. (Bob) Sargent is, how he really likes him.  In my State of confusion I felt like the dude was trying to fix me up with him.  I didn’t like it.  And by then my neighbors and everyone around me was already talking about what they thought was going on, that wasn’t.    Its all revolting, unprofessional and revolting.

On December 5th, which is our son’s birthday so an easy day to remember for both of us, I was in Dr. Minehan’s office receiving the post hysterectomy pelvic exam.  I’m sure I’ve already told about this.  But now let’s look at just how much Bob respected and liked Don.

So there I was in the second most vulnerable position as woman can be in, the one with her OB/GYN, when he checked his computer to see a message from security.  He became rather angry, and got up from his desk while telling me everything is okay and that I could get dressed.  When he came back he had three people with him.  He told me that I have to go with them.  I am obedient, so I went.  There was a big, younger man in a security uniform, and two women.  One woman was Debbie, the administrator and the other women I’ve never seen before.  They circled me, pointed down an unlit hallway and told me to go that way.  At the end of the eastward hallway was a large examining room.  They followed me in. The lights were out in there too.  I was feeling very uncomfortable.   The man in the uniform told me that I have to sign some papers for them, then never return to the Multicare again.  I didn’t want to sign papers.  I wanted to leave.  They wouldn’t let me leave.

In the meantime, and this is what later Don told me, Dr. (Bob) Sargent had called Don into his office which was only yards away from where the three people had me trapped.  Don said the appointment was rather odd, because it wasn’t time for his blood pressure check.  He said he’s just had one earlier the previous month.  So when they called to make the appointment he questioned them.  He said the response was that Dr. (Bob) Sargent wanted him to come in.  The date was December 5th.  Easy to remember.  And it was during the afternoon while I was there too.

He said that Bob was questioning him about me, which made him feel very uncomfortable.  I asked Don what he had been asking him.  He said he couldn’t remember, only that it made him uncomfortable and that it was things none of his business.  At no time did Bob mention to him that I was in the clinic.  At no time did Bob mention to his that they had me surrounded by security people.  At no time did the security people ask me if I would like to have Don in there with me.  Nobody cared about neither I nor Don.

The idea that a few months later Bob was on the witness stand, while Don set right there in the courtroom alongside of me, Bob was saying that he liked Don…. that was such bullshit that even Don couldn’t believe it.

To be honest I had seen Don coming from the Multicare over the course of the next couple of months that we weren’t talking, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Don wasn’t traumatized by it all, too, like my God mother Dorris had said, so that Don was still trying to figure out what the hell happened, as well. But eventually Don quit going to doctor Sargent, and that could have been after being there that day in the courtroom with me.  That was in 2006, and Don and I were working our way back together.

But Bob didn’t like Don.  Bob only liked Bob.  Bob didn’t respect Don, either.  Bob destroyed Don’s marriage, cost Don lots in assets, too, that I’m sure Don will never recover as well.

Bob thought his marriage was the greatest even though he was at work pawing his medical assistant and I guess thinking I was her too.  Bob should have gone into marital counseling, especially because he told me that medicine is hard.  Well, if its hard after as many years as he had been a doctor then he was definitely in the wrong field.

Had they left me alone to get over what they’d done to me things would have been fine. But they couldn’t leave it alone, and the bitter old man had to show me what was what.  So he sent the cronies in to set me up with Kevin.  Once Kevin did the bad thing it was all over for me and Don.

Nobody cared about Don.  Dr. Sargent is a piece of shit liar.  All they wanted to do was to get even with me, just the same way the bitter old man got even with people at Western State Hospital/Jail.  Its no wonder everyone from there is killing themselves.  Who knows what goes on there, if they are willing to have done to me what they did?

It really makes me mad they used Kevin to mix things up.  I know that I say it all of the time, but its true.

The heartache portion is gone from me.  And now I remember all the good things that made us what we were.  That the doctor’s family took what he did with his drugs and turned my marriage into something filthy is atrocious.  And for some reason he seems to think he’s something special because he’s married with (too many) kids.  He doesn’t deserve anything good from that.  And who knows?  Maybe they are all self centered POS like he is.  I know my own son is a hard working, good man like Don and like my father and mother were, too.  The apples don’t fall far from the trees.  In that regard I’m lucky.  In that regard we have good memories and can still laugh at some of the silly things we did.

Like the year we bought joke presents.

Colby wanted a leather jacket and of course we got him one with the Invasion of Normandy of the interior.  It was cool.  But we also went to K Mart and got him this terrible brown plastic jacket like thing with crummy faux military patches on it.  And we wrapped up that and gave it to him first.

Also my mom had wanted a certain kitchen item, and we got her that.  But what we wrapped first was a t shirt we picked up at the thrift shop that had an over washed kitten decal on it so that parts of the kitten decal was missing.

We handed each box to them at the same time. So while they were opening them and holding them up their mouths were saying, “Nice”, but their frowns and their eyes were saying, “OH MY GOD!  THIS IS THE WORST!”

Then we started laughing so hard while handing them the real boxes of presents.  Hahahaha!

These are the things we laugh about together when we get family time, like at Christmas.  These are things that belong to our own family.  Now, Don’s been re married for a number of years and his new wife has kids.  I’m sure they like Don because he is intelligent and witty, and fun to be around.  They are making new memories, and that is good.  As for me, I’m happy with my old memories.  I just don’t think a “new” husband would get into the old memories.  I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong.  But I liked things the way that they were.  Until the Ambien.

But Bob didn’t like Don.  If he liked Don he wouldn’t have done him dirty. And he did him very dirty.  Bob and his own marriage is the dirty one.  I know because I saw Bob pawing Christine Munroe in the parking lot next to Multicare.  For years I never told that because I’m not a chicken shit.  Then one day I thought why not?  From then chicken shit has become my middle name, my mantra.  Even at that, thought, on a scale of 1 – 10 its only about a 4.  And Kevin knows this is true because he’s given me a lot more material I could dump here about him that I haven’t yet.  I’m just not that big of an asshole.  Which I guess is why I sleep so well.  I’ve just wanted to tell my story so that you all know what they do, how low they will go because they are privileged.

Also, last night I did realize that my fear of not being able to fall to sleep might happen again has gone away.  For many years after the Ambien I’ve lived horrified that it would happen again, that I suddenly wouldn’t be able to sleep and that nobody would know how to help me to sleep.  Not being able to sleep is a horrible experience, and I went over 19 days and nights without it.   But that hasn’t happened again.  I’m not bi polar, and I’m not suicidal.  And Bob and his family can all go to Hell.  The sooner, the better.



PS:  This chapter was not nearly as well told as the last time I wrote it.  The last time was a kinder, more accurate homage given to Don and to our marriage.  Our marriage deserves that, despite what ultimately happened.  We weren’t perfect, but things were fine.

This Needs Said….

the women I’ve met who Kevin has harmed are the most strong and delightfully intelligent women I’ve ever met.  Truly, intellectually and emotionally they exceed the rest through love and care.  Knowing these women, to me, is the good that has come out of the mess he’s made.  They did not have to reach out, but they have.

Any suggestion by either Kevin or Nazarita that any of these women are vindictive, hateful, negative or anything even remotely close to it shows both are in total denial.

Both Kevin and Nazarita should be ashamed.



Remembering being kids…

waiting to get rid of Verizon I’m remembering when we were kids there was a community pool we frequented.

But Don didn’t until he moved in next door.

One hot summer day my mom told me to go next door and to tell that boy if he isn’t in his shorts, out of that house and at the pool with the rest of us in 1/2 an hour she would come drag him out.  Don was not raised with a mother so that floored him.  But I can tell you he was in his shorts and showed up at the pool at rapid speed.

It was good for him too, and he began making friends.

that is how far back my ex husband and I went.  It’s a good memory.

They can’t take those things away from us.

I remember one time about 2 years later this rich kid had dated me.  One time he came over and told me his best friend was going to kick Don’s ass.  He wanted me to go tell Don for his friend.  I told my boyfriend to shove it up his ass and if he wanted a bullshit message delivered to my best friend he should do it himself.  Henry never kicked Don’s ass and I never told Don about that until after he and I were married.

It was those things we built our lives on and anyone who hasn’t had that is missing out on in life what is good.

the idea that Sargent thought in my right mind I would throw away my life for his dumb ass is a total lie to himself.  Totally.  And at least now I can look back fondly onto those memories.

Its sad Kevin nor Nazarita knows how to develop them.  They are out there for everyone to make.

Let’s Play The Devil’s Advocate For A Minute.

Let’s just say I’m wrong about the “grooming” of innocent and naive pupils for nefarious sexual deviations by these people.

Let’s say they REALLY are trying to change themselves.  Let’s say they just sputtered a few of their old habits for a moment, and that it wasn’t intended as bait or to be followed up on.

Let’s say it really was a live broadcast and it was my card game’s shuffling that interrupted Nazarita’s dissertation on how women really mean yes when we say no.

Let’s say the rapist has changed his ways.

I don’t believe it.

I don’t think a certain insecure but big ego (a lethal combination) who has very few other components to his personality could actually handle that a woman (or man) might have told him no to something and meant it.

Rape is wrong, unless as consenting adults receiving full disclosure agree to the game.  In that case it isn’t really rape.  Its just a game.  It was a game I wasn’t playing.  I said no and I meant no.

Love the sinner, hate the sin?  I’m still not sure if that’s possible.

We can say I’m from Missouri, which is the SHOW ME State.

Okay, gotta go dump Verizon.  Ciao’

A Quick Late Morning Note:

It is a relief these two sick-o have announced through their series the transformation from violent to peaceful, so that I don’t need to fret over hearing from them again.

However, its worth noting these are the same two people who told the “authorities” rape is a relationship the rapist didn’t want to pursue afterward.  So pay attention please to the warning that they are also saying a woman’s saying no really means yes and to do it anyway but using force.

Are you getting that?  If you’re into it, just send them a message.  If you’re not into, let’s just keep on chatting for exposing it so other people who are not either don’t get trapped and traumatized.  Because overcoming the trauma is not easy.  Especially it isn’t when they start their game with dumping psych drugs into your brains.  See how that works?  Misty was raped, too.  We will never know what actually happened to Rick during or after the Ambien.  But we know very well what happened to me.

PS:  Also be aware that the majority of “authorities”, politicians, judges, attorney, actors, clergy and so forth are into it too. So are many rock stars and legal and illegal drug dealers, writers, poets, scientists, philosophers, and academia.  If you get sucked in and are raped, remember, in their law it is your own fault.

Read Enoch.  Not everyone goes to heaven, and heaven isn’t here.  This is all theater here.  Pay attention.

Okay, end of lesson for today.  Errands to run, will get back to writing the two Chapters that were deleted and/or altered.


if I am able to get done what needs doing then I will write  all over again the two chapters the glitches wouldn’t let me post here that they deleted without saving as drafts that was very disheartening.

Truly they were my best writings and came so much from my soul.  Whether or not they can be repeated as well written as they were remains to be seen.  I think though it is worth the try….


It will pick up at the ending of the Misappropriated Care, and I think I had posted parts 1 & 2, and 2 seemed to be selectively cut off by the computer.  Yet the entire unfolding of yet another lie of Sargent is worthy of being told.  Especially this is true because it is another lie that was told on the witness stand that is in the recording I have never gotten despite all of the attempts.  So I am going by memory, telling what else was done and then when I receive the recordings I’ll show you all that lie too.

Of course this will be unless the recordings arrive the way many do, garbled and even in some spots blank.  Yes we know just how low they do go.


Grooming The Students

When we are naive and uneducated, like I am, it takes time to figure it out.  Also, keeping us separated and isolated helps them to shut us up.  Now I understand.  How I have realized the grooming was from others who are listening to the EPIS blogtalk and have gotten me listening too.  Yes, they are publicly available. And, yes, there are settings and other avenues to use to make them not public.  And we all know both Kevin and Nazarita have enough brains in their group to be able to make private what they don’t want known.  But they aren’t doing that, although I’m sure there must be other venues they use that are private.  Probably its what someone else told me, which is that they operate a porn/sex club. Now I this public blog is the grooming place for that.

While Nazarita was talking about women and how women are raised, how did she put it, to say no when we mean yes?  Girls are taught to be coy to get the things we want?

All day today, again, like the first time a couple or so weeks ago when I heard Kevin’s voice on the blogtalk, I’ve been made sick.  Yes, I’ve been sick in bed almost all day.  And while lying on my side in the dark with my hand covering my eyes I try to dream.  I try to pretend.  I try to be in the place I was before the doctor blew my mind with his drugs and before his family and then Kevin took me out. 

It was that place for having had to begin with for another reason why Kevin loathed me.  He was competing with me.  He snarled to me that I’m not married anymore. He told me, with pride, he’d managed one relationship for 9 years.  He wasn’t talking about a marriage though.  He only handled a marriage for about two years, if he ever even really got married.  And I don’t think he did.  He’s a pathological liar, and he’s said so.  He’s a sociopath who he has told people he’s also bi polar.  Someone else said he suffers from huge depressions, and I suppose that goes hand in hand with what he does and matches with that he says he’s bi polar.  Huge swings into deep depressions without cause to periods of abnormal euphoria is being bi polar.  I would imagine that makes it difficult to sustain a real, caring and compassionate relationship with anyone.  Therefore it must be superficial.

And from what I was listening to its superficial with Nazarita too. Its a common predatory relationship.  A conversation last night a friend called bullshit. 

Well, for sure what Nazarita was saying was contradictory to the predator she is.  Anyway, it seems that way to me. 

So I wondered why she would portray to the audience and to Kevin her idea about the problem for women being that women are taught to say no when they really mean yes?   
Well, but of course, this is what a man who is a rapist or a predator would want to hear.  I’m pretty sure it helps him to believe what he does is what women want.  And that is sickening.

Add to it, while I laid here on my side with my hands over my eyes for trying to pretend none of that is real, I came to realize she and Kevin get along so well because she is also manipulating.  She doesn’t think women say no when they mean yes.  She is selling that notion to the young listeners. 

Nazarita is playing the role of the damsel in distress needing rescued from her own grooming, her own early childhood condition. She’s one carrying the female burden.  The virgin/whore complex.  One who is in bondage because of her virginity but with her own sexual struggles and desires as a whore.  She says no but what she she really wants is to be forced, maybe even tied up, maybe shown discipline by Daddy, so that she doesn’t have to accept responsibility for her whoring thoughts. I get it!  She isn’t playing it for Kevin on the blogtalk though.  She’s playing it for the audience they are attracting probably through educational sites where they have access to young people, primarily young women. Very likely other “professors” are recommending the existential instructions to young women, too, to get their own thrills. Nazarita is like their Madame. She makes her living handing females over to the Beasts.

Yes, this makes sense because in the first blogtalk, I think it was, that was shared with me Kevin said something about saving the little girl.  “Maybe we can save the little girl,” is what he said, what he said with desire, if I remember right.  Like his longing is to save the little girl.  And I wondered about that.  Before I even kind of wondered that he might be leaning towards being a pedo.

But, yes, he is terribly manipulative. Read his book, A Reason and A Season, and he tells about how he talked a young woman over the phone into having sex with a carrot.  I believe it, too.  He tried to talk me into putting something inside myself, and I said no.  I cannot even believe that I’m remembering this, so I’m going to add the disclaimer that I was fucked up from the mind drugs and fucked up from his love bombing and overwhelming me.  And what he is able to do is Satanic.  Well, he’s a sociopath, so….. 

I cannot believe that I might still even question his motives, that to think he has a much greater purpose, a plan that I just don’t know about or understand. He said to call him Jesus, and that he is saving the world. Well read what delusions of grandeur brought Neitzsche to say about himself. The dude was high most the time on opium and, like Kevin, had a God complex. 

Well, its really been difficult to believe a man who can come across as gentle as he is able to, and is as handsome and sweet as he can be for a moment is so evil.  But, yes, he is.  So when reality sinks in, like it has today even though I was covering my eyes most the day with my hands for not wanting to see the truth, I become horrified all over again.  But, like others who listen to him that he’s hurt, we share the reality together and this has helped me a lot.

Now the comment of the person on The Jerk blog Kevin made them take down makes more sense. And I am realizing the truth by what she’s saying, and its that Goldhammer really does consider herself the sick Beauvoir to Kevin’s sick old man rendition of Sartre and his deviations. 

Yes, Beauvoir groomed young students for him to have sex with and was even sued by one of their parents.  I believe they even had threesomes, which is something women have said is one of Kevin’s deepest desires and the stories that have been shared with me about him is laughable if not for how serious he is.

To that I only know he asked me to come over to his girlfriend’s house and she would cook me a meal, then lick me all over my body.  I thought he was talking about his dog.  I was going to stop at the grocery to pick up some ribs and potato salad. Hahaha! I started laughing,and said his dog is cute.  I thought he meant I could play with her.  Except then he got mad and said his dog is a boy, as if I should mind read that.  Well, I didn’t know.  I didn’t know what he was talking about.  Again, its not my language. 

I’m sure its not the language of most young girls.  And that is the purpose of Goldhammer. She starts their grooming.  And that is what she was talking about on the blog a couple of days ago.  She was putting into the heads of the young girls who are following Kevin that they may not think they want it, or they have been taught to say no, but really they do want it and she makes it sounds inviting. We have wondered why their conversations are so juvenile. Nazarita and he are grooming them to think their own female reluctance is just their being coy, but she will help them to get over that, and Kevin will pretend he is just learning too. He will play the role of the innocent, too. In reality he’s a perverted old man. Wow, what sludge they both are.

Yes, we thought the conversation was bullshit.  But now it makes total sense. Sometimes lying sick in bed with my eyes covered by my hands is good.

So this grooming is why Kevin said in last week’s blog they were in their Utah studio. He’s still working the good guy angle. As a rapist he is getting help,a lot can be learned if only, oh if only, we can help him. And naivest young women will think they can help a rapist. After all, listen to his voice. He sounds like an angel. I suppose that’s easy to understand because he can be very personable so that even stupid old ladies want to help him. 

But we want to help him to stop being a rapist, a predator and a sociopath.  Except that isn’t what Nazarita Goldhammer is doing.  She’s helping to him by grooming his followers in preparation for what they have in store for them.  And if it is true the sociopath, in his old age, turns into a psycho who kills, I am afraid for the direction that desperate old woman Nazarita is going with Kevin.  And what is even more sickening is there is nobody to stop them.

All I can do is to keep posting what I realize from what is being shared with me.  All I can say is that when I say no I mean no and what he did to me traumatized me so much that its taken me all these years to overcome it.  Well, wait a minute. I’ve never overcome it.  I still live in the pumpkin shell and I’m still very afraid about meeting people I don’t know.  No, I’ll never recover.  So if you are a follower of his, you need to pay attention. Because you are being groomed for sex and maybe more.  Have you heard of snuff films?    If not look up Charles Ng and Leonard Lake.

Here, let me start you out on it.  Its real, and when caught Lake killed himself with cyanide pills.  He and his partner had been kidnapping people, including their children, then making snuff films in the remote hills of Calaveras County.

Lucifer is no joke.  And remember, Kevin called out when he did the bad thing that Lucifer loves him.  That is no joke either.  This isn’t slander. This is fact.  Its written about in the court files, and he’s never disputed it.  Not ever.   It makes me sick, even still today, 10 years and 2 months later.  And I liked him, which makes it even more sickening.

I am confident from what people in his past have said that I was the most violent he’s gotten, so far, or so far as anyone knows. But if it continues that he’s not able to feel deeply or love his anger will continue growing. Nazarita is playing with fire, and she knows it. She thinks she is Beauvoir to Sartre or Bonnie to Clyde. Either way, she’s troubled and she will drag naive people in to feed to the shark. I pray for Kevin that he can change. But I think he needs to find a different therapist. Maybe he needs to pray to Jesus, instead of pretending he is him. I don’t know. Just an idea.