In Search of a Lousy or not-Lousy Shower

Today, I finally, this morning, was able to speak to Deb Baretta of the Raleigh area -- my backer of my book. I had hoped she might help out with the $80.00 investment in custom-printed T-shirts Kimberly and I need to begin the walking tour: "HENRY FLAGLER, MARY LILY KENAN, TENNESSEE WILLIAMS, AND ME!" (Must buy minimum order of 4). But Deb was clearly heavily drugged, still living in her estranged husband's house (she had hoped to move to her own house over a month ago), and although when last we spoke (a month ago), she said she had cleared all her legal difficulties (their nature unknown to me), she now said she is completely tied in legal knots. She cannot help out with the money she had earlier promised, and I do not hold this against her. Clearly, whatever the intention of her estranged husband/jailor and her daughter Christy (who controls Deb's email and phone and continues to block me from Deb's cell phone.

Please remember that Deb was the second person who eye-witness-confirmed the drugs coming in by mini-sub under Snow's Cut Bridge. She had simply chanced upon it. New Hanover County Sheriff Deputies had surveilled her in cars as she walked across the bridge to get to the other side wheree she could get a cab to Castle Hayne to pick up her own car for less money. She was stopped by the deputies, beaten fairly severely, drugged, and then committed to the same facility where Public Defenders Jennifer Harjo and Emily Zvejnieks had arranged for me to get protective custody after I had confronted District Attorney Benjamin David on his protection of narco-traffickers (in Mixto restaurant on the river, here).

OK, so Ben was sitting with 12 associates and I DID not only nutshell my claims against "Ben Dover," as people are now calling him on the streets in the Historic District, but told all the address of this blog so they could examine my claims in detail. (Some did so and emailed me. THANK YOU!!!) Within 24 hours, I was confronted by aggressive petty drug dealers five times on the streets -- all but one time they were led by Cindy Beattie (Beatty?), who also said I would get a surprise  The next day I was served papers showing her charging me with "Cyber-stalking" going back to months before when she and her boyfriend PERSON JUDGE NOECKER GAG-ORDERED ME NOT TO MENTION IN MY BLOG had lived in my house absolutely rent-free. They never paid the several hundred dollars they promised to pay and kept putting off the payment date until I scared them out, and Wilmington Police verified that under the circumstances I had every right to put their things out in the yard -- which I did.

A couple of interesting things about this:

1. On their way out of the apartment for the last time, Cindy called back to me that they were going to talk to Ben David AGAIN about me. (This was my first clue that they were spying for Ben while taking advantage of my generosity. I first invited them in because they were homeless. Before I knew it, Cindy was pretending to try to re-launch her radio DJ career while actually selling her prescription-gotten pain pills to the masses at $3 a pop. I had to get them out.
2. In clearing Cindy's things out, I found her notes detailing all the things I allegedly had done. No surprise: all were judgement called (i.e.: "He is delusional.") rather than statements of specific behaviors or words. I also found the name and phone number of Cindy's contact on the Wilington Police force who is a cyber detective. All this physical evidence was lost when my wallet and phone were stolen during an ill-fated trip to Pleasure Isalnd beaches with a young guy and his son (one of them was named Andrew). A more accurate description is that I was abandoned on the beach, the wallet and phone went back to Raleigh with Andrew & Co., and his grand-parents later confirmed that the DID get the vehicle back, but that it had been stripped first of all content. THEY ABSOLUTELY REFUSED TO HELP ME GET IN CONTACT WITH THE PERSON WHO STRIPPED THE CAR, ALTHOUGH THEY ADMITTED TO KNOWING HIM OR HER WELL. THEY HELPED DESTROY THE EVIDENCE (not that it's needed -- like the ALL-CAPS I just used).

Another interesting event today: I ran into Robbie Trayhan (who, of course, punked me into believeing he's not drinking. I DO have to laugh. Everyone gets punked by Robbie and he always lands on his feet. But although I finally came to realize he really is straight although he had pretended to be my boyfriend at times -- pretending best the day I met him and took him to live in my (same 8th St. apartment) for several days. He was needing a shower and drunk or drunkish. He begged me to jump into the shower with him and then IMMEDIATELY sexually aggressed me and exclaimed he really like it. (You can see how I became convinced -- at least that he was gay.)

But this morning when I saw him, I asked him why on earth he had taken me in his mouth and declared his desire like that. This SEEMED to be before Ben David could have tried to get Robbie to testify against me. Well, maybe not. Robbie got pised off and ran off without answering this morning, and God knows Ben David is a clever man (and THAT'S why deep-down I like and respect him).

Well, tomorrow will be interesting. I'm sure someone will have a surprise for me up his or her sleave . . .

And shame on Charles Adams of his own antiques store on Castle Street who is shacked up with my old acquaintance from Atlanta, Kyle (Ky) Johnson (formerly of Bingo Parlor and stuck-in-a-crack-house fame), and can't help me out with letting me get a simple shower the day before trial. To heap insult on injury, Charles's last words to me were: "Maybe later we can get togther and suck some dick."

I think not, Charles. You can't even afford to let me take a shower. I hope Kyle Johnson doesn't get all Charles's money that came by check-in-the-mail today -- or that new, flush customer . . .

Enough. Let's see what tomorrow brings . . .