The High (sic) Comedy continues in Wilmington, NC. Not only did my parents and sister attend my Aunt Doris Russ's funeral (but were afraid my sister Jane could not find the cemetary for the burial although she's a fully capable 58 year old spinster -- yes, folks, completely VOLUNTARILY, she's been acting like a dried up old prune in recent years -- and excellent driver) so they went home. One of my cousins confirms that she asked my parents about my situation to not only get their side of it, but to see if they might FINALLY help me out a little in my very temporary RETURN TO HOMELESSNESS!!! (that was meant to have echo-chamber effect)
But my parents ignored her and changed the subject without responding at all -- thus proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that they have no concern for me in the least. I'd warned them -- AND HEREBY WARN ALL OTHERS AS WELL -- that ANYONE who in any way claims or spreads rumors that I am "supposed" to be on meds will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. If you've read much of this blog at all, you know I am currently diagnosed as either mentally healthy, healed of bipolar disorder, or bipolar disorder is in remission and has been for some time.
Period.
The picture above is of a woman who claims to be the leasor of the Williams Cottage on the alleyway that ends in First Prez's parking lot by the church offices. She had noticed me returning some clothes I'd laundered to the bag that contains all the possessions I now control (not held hostage inside 111 South 8th Street Apt. A by the landlord), that by permission of Alice who with her husband David Kraeber, MD, a urologist, had permitted me to hide a two-cubic-foot bag of my belongings behind their garden gate. At the time, I cautioned Alice that neighbors might worry should they see me without either of them there, but I at least knew the people in the adjoining property fronting on 4th Street, so did not worry about them. I never expected I'd need to worry about some pugnaceous little busybody bulldozing her way up the lane to accost me.
Well, this pictured woman not only insisted I was trespassing on HER property (although she had leased it to the Kraebers), even after I named them. We both remained polite and confident throughout our conversation, but she could rouse no one at the Kraebers' door, so she called the Police who caught up with me in town and after a short discussion I returned to get my belongings until the Kraebers could be consulted.
When I got to the cottage, Alice was with the landlord and the cops, and she would not meet my eye, although she admitted she had been lying on the sofa right inside the door and heard me knocking -- and later her landlady knocking -- and rather than open it to me, her landlady, whose voice she could have clearly heard as well as mine. This was a planned set up of me. They had orchestrated it with cops, as I had told Alice I would come by at about that time. Another Ben David & Co. set-up of me, as you will see in the next paragraph.
Additionally, Alice told the police that she never wanted me to return to visit them and she would have me arrested if I did -- even though I have never had a problem with either her or her husband. Too bad I continued to be level-headed and they could not arrest or commit me.
What they continue to try to do is to gather evidence for Benjamin R. David, the District Attorney, who thinks he can destroy me and the truth.
DMKraeber@aol.com is the address her husband gave me some time ago, to contact him regarding sex on the side, but it doesn't work. Unfortunately, I had once thought -- but now am quite glad of!!!
HA!
Scott
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