3 Americas: More Truth Than We Can Handle 09 Caregivers and Care-Takers

(Last updated: september 7, 2024)
3 Americas: More Truth Than We Can Handle
Chapter 09
Caregivers and Care-Takers
by DR Wolfe
{work in progress}

(Includes strong language)

PART ONE:
There are Caregivers, and care-takers, and sometimes we can’t tell the difference. But today one of these words means a whole lot more than it used to mean.

We know care-takers are people who care for the homes and estates of the wealthy and sometimes those who properly expose of the dead. On the other hand, there are people like my biological father Harold who showed me this woman’s dead body in a cellar under his step father’s bar in Port Huron, Michigan.

Was she my dead Native-American ancestor as Harold claimed, or was she a young kidnapped black girl from Detroit, I was only five when he showed me her dead body. I don’t know if he was being truthful, except I know he hated black people more than anything and after all these years it still haunts me.

But what I do know is that for a long time a care giver was thought to be someone who cared for people in nursing facilities or similar places that care for the sick or infirm. But beginning in the late 1990’s it also meant people who provided medical cannabis by either growing it or by facilitating the transfer of the medicine.

Under many state laws it’s all legal today, but it wasn’t always that way. Beginning in 1938 the government and corporations were going after advocates who use or support those who use cannabis. They targeted people with no money or power. The idea was to create a public psychosis by using the CIA’s techniques of brainwashing and make cannabis smokers the villains of America. In fact, according to the Daily mail President Trump created a secret task force of sick fucks to collect any embarrassing or degrading video or other material on people who use cannabis, with no regard to their mental health disability, or privacy.

For more than twenty thousands years, people used cannabis as a medicine and a spiritual aid. Beginning in the 1700’s and 1800’s cannabis was identified as a treatment for many conditions. It was sold as a medicine. And the first actual machine rolled joint was an asthmatic cigarette, that was prescribed by doctors in the 1850’s. And I know it works, because I had a roommate with severe asthma at Michigan State who used it regularly.

When I first moved in, Angelo would use this noisy machine to treat his asthma that pumped medicine into his lungs and gave him some relief. In fact, his previous roommate asked to be transferred because of the noisy pump, although I suspect he would complained about about the cannabis smell. Just bigots being bigots, I suppose.

When I moved in with Angelo, and away from the two other bigots I described in the Introduction, we began smoking weed together. He claimed his lungs had never felt better. So I tried to get a good supply for us, and was ripped off $350 by Snook, Cook, and this other shady character from the third floor we called “Mark after Dark.”

Beginning in 1999, for fifteen consecutive years I renewed my medical cannabis card. Several years later,after it was legalized, I decided to give up my medical card and began using “recreational cannabis.” The last time I renewed, in 2014, Dr. Coleman from the infamous Richmond Clinic said to me as I was leaving, “So, you won’t need a card next year?”

I never gave him a straight answer, but I suspected he wasn’t asking me because he cared about my health. Rather I suspect he and the clinic were being pressured by the DEA, the Injustice Department, and the pharmaceutical industry to stop signing medical cannabis cards, except in the most severe cases.

At the same time, the State of Oregon, which has been in the pocket of the pharmaceutical industry since Dr. Kitzhaber took over the governor’s office in 1996. Even though less than an ounce of cannabis had been decriminalized for twenty years, the following year Kitzhaber and the Republican Legislature made possessing cannabis a crime, even one seed,

The following year the voters responded by overwhelmingly approving Oregon’s medical cannabis law. However, over the next decade Governors Kitzhaber and Kulongoski along with the legislature (on both sides of the isle) began passing laws and regulations that made medical cannabis more and more restrictive.

Then Oregon passed recreational cannabis and the State transferred control of the program over to the Oregon Liquor Commission. This was despite that many card holders at the time were recovering alcoholics. In fact, almost all card holders reported their dependence on alcohol or pharmaceuticals had been significantly reduced, and this really pissed off Big Pharma and the alcohol industry.

So then they got their blackmailed politicians from D.C. to push harder against cannabis, and even make some of their drugs mandatory. And as we know from the mandates on this experimental gene therapy vaccine for Covid and the amount of sugar and salt in our food, the government doesn’t care about our health, only the profits of Big Pharma.

But don’t worry, thankfully Big Pharma happens to make drugs to treat the symptoms of high blood pressure and high blood sugar, which means we can continue to eat garbage and sit around all day and watch TV and play video games. That is, as long as we deprive our brains of oxygen, by always wearing masks, and get vaccinated with these experimental boosters every six months.

In September of 2022 the FDA published a study that claimed Salmon was more unhealthy, because of the fat, than Frosted Flakes, which proves to anyone with a brain that the FDA doesn’t give a crap about consumers or what we consume.

first, the brain needs some small amount of fat to work efficiently and fish is one of the best sources of animal fat available, but apparently the chemical crusaders at the FDA don’t know this, or they’re lying and they just don’t care.

Fat from fish is extremely healthy for humans because it contains Omega 3 and Omega 6 fatty acids. And it’s a hell of a lot better than the fat from pork, beef or chicken, although pork is the worst. And to be fair, chicken breast from free range chickens isn’t too bad if one feels they must have meat.

Perhaps it’s time to divide the Food and Drug Administration into two separate departments, the sick fuck drug pushers from Chicago, New York, and New Jersey, and the people who actually believe in consuming safe, healthy food. Why would they remove the fiber and nutrients from processed food, unless they want us to be sick.

Wen I moved to Oregon in 1998 most people, including the media, were always looking for a natural cure, whenever possible. Now it seems like the media and the government only talks about a man-made chemical solution to solve every health problem, in between their non-stop drug ads.

when a man-made chemical is created with the best interests of people in mind, we can feel good about progress. But when the motivation is strictly financial, we need to be protected by the government from what processed chemicals are being put into our food. But this isn’t what’s happening at the pharmaceutical-controlled FDA, where apparently there’s a belief that most man-made chemicals are good for us.

The truth is, using natural ingredients is more costly to the corporation’s bottom line. the FDA and most Democreeps and neo-cons in Congress are completely controlled by Big Pharma, and here’s the proof.

Not until the evidence was so overwhelming did Congress stop Big Tobacco from advertising their highly addictive products, especially to kids.

It took decades of scientific evidence to convince our leaders that the companies that produced this deadly product needed to be sanctioned. but the fines imposed were fairly insignificant, when compared to the damage Big Tobacco did by lying.

But Big Tobacco didn’t stop there. They decided to invest in processed food. So they created highly addictive processed foods that were extremely unhealthy and hyper-palatable (that tasted good). In other words, by removing the nutrients and fiber, and by including mostly carbohydrates, trans fats, salt, sugar, and other addictive chemicals they could get people, especially kids, to eat this crap. And once again, Congress does nothing to protect us.

Looking back, it’s a sad part of our American history that we have allowed our federal government, along with the tobacco industry and the alcohol industry, to arbitrarily decide to make a fairly safe drugs such as cannabis illegal, comparing it to heroin and meth. While today this same government allows children to be mutilated and poisoned with these harmful legal drugs, that sterilizes and psychologically damages kids forever.

The sad truth is, selfish greedy minds usually prevail in our unrestricted capitalist system. The dutiful Pharma whores on both sides of the isle made cannabis illegal and said it had absolutely no medical benefit. And even today the politicians still won’t admit the government was wrong and remove cannabis from Schedule One.

It began in 1938, but within a few decades under Nixon and Hoover America had found a new stream of revenue. That is The government began generating revenue from the people who used or sold cannabis by passing stronger drug and forfeiture laws. This way they could also take out the war protesters and the “back to nature crowd.” Within two decades, under Biden and Clinton’s Crime Bill, the war on drugs and the prison industrial complex exploded and cannabis smokers paid the price.

I moved to Oregon in the summer of 1998, just in time to vote on Oregon’s medical cannabis bill, which overwhelmingly passed.

For many years, the media and most people who worked for government (who are regularly drug tested), would say cannabis is a “gateway drug” that will lead to heroin and meth addiction. Actually, as we are learning now, it’s the exact opposite. In states where cannabis is legal, alcohol and hard drug abuse are down, among all ages. And this is why they are going after these medical cannabis programs. They don’t care if people benefit from smoking cannabis, they just don’t want people like Paul Stanford talking about it’s medical value.

We’ve known for decades there is all sorts of medical advantages to using cannabis over drugs provided by Big Pharma.

First,whether we smoke it or eat it, cannabis is a anti-inflammatory and an anti-oxidant. On the other hand, Ibuprofen and Tylenol destroy the kidneys and liver if over used or used with other drugs. They do provide some minimal pain relief and it’s a lot better than using any prescription drugs for minor pain. But overcounter pain medications are not safer than cannabis.

Users say smoking cannabis provides some relief from most types of pain while causing no harm to any human organs. However eating cannabis means it has to go through the liver, and while not toxic in small amounts, it does cause the liver to work harder. So if a person already has poor liver function, smoking it is highly recommended.

Clay Travis and Buck Sexton, a lawyer and a former-CIA agent who took over for Rush Limbaugh, once said people should eat gummies, and not smoke cannabis, because the smell or odor bothers some people. They don’t know what the hell their talking about, or like Rush, they just don’t care about us poor people and what makes us healthy and happy.

We know the government is either stupid or more likely, deceitful, when it comes to saying cannabis has no medical value and is harmful.

Big Pharma and the government are still trying to promote a THC free version, without the key ingredient, THC. There is no medical advantage from removing THC. In fact it’s the opposite effect, but apparently some people can’t handle the buzz.
And that’s okay as long as adults still have a choice.

Those of us who use cannabis regularly know that the THC in cannabis is the most important ingredient, combined with the other almost 200 CBD compounds in cannabis, that helps with depression, sleeplessness, chronic pain, and many other medical conditions, including what many believe, preventing cancer.

You can’t say this in an ad, according to the FTC and the FDA, who apparently think its okay to put high-fructose corn syrup and Maltodextrin, along with a ton of salt, in every type of processed food. Then they take out the nutrients and fiber, to make sure this processed garbage is completely useless, but it tastes good! And you wonder why there’s so many obese children in America?

But having the media, government and pharmaceutical industry lie to us is not unusual. In fact, the government lawyers announced that they had obtained an Alexander Acosta settlement, where the manufacturers and distributors of opiates would have to pay eight months of their profits in damages for using doctors to peddle opiates to their patients for several decades. And we know, these patients would very often go on to use heroin.

The corporate whores from NPR and the media, who need the ads and contributions from Big Pharma and wealthy foundations, applauded the Injustice Department’s settlement, calling it “ground breaking!”

In other words, for intentionally and systematically killing a half million Americans the Sack-of-shitlers and the other drug peddlers would get away with a virtual fine that, in corporate terms, was equivalent to a cup of coffee and a bagel without the cream cheese.

If cannabis were legal, many of these half million people who died would never have started taking pills, and ending up on heroin when they couldn’t get any more pills from their doctor.

For decades, one of the biggest obstacles to legalization of cannabis was an organization called the “Partnership for a Drug Free America”, who was ironically funded almost entirely by the pharmaceutical and alcohol industries. In other words, take our highly addictive drugs and alcohol, but don’t touch the natural stuff that grows from the earth. The stuff that we righteous assholes in the media call “dope”.

First, did you know no one has ever gotten lung cancer from smoking cannabis? This may be because once the five hundred molecules in this complex compound gets into the blood stream and saturates the blood, according to a very credible theory that doesn’t come from the government, pharmaceutical industry, or the lying doctors, it seeks out mutant cells in the lungs and body and literally smothers them to death. According to this theory, it does this by completely coating the exterior of the tumorous cell which blocks nutrients from getting into the damaged cell membrane. And like magic, the mutant tumorous cell literally starves to death!

The anti-cannabis crowd claimed for years this notion of preventing cancer was completely ludicrous, but it might not be so crazy any more. In early 2024, A new drug was found to be successful in treating one of the most deadly forms of cancer. Mesothelioma, one of the most aggressive forms of lung cancer caused by asbestos exposure, does exactly this. It coats the cell with a substance, perhaps cannabis, and then the cancerous cell starves to death because it can’t get any nutrients. That’s curious, isn’t it?

Obviously, cannabis does not prevent or cure cancer alone. It also takes exercise, a healthy diet, and not indulging in harmful behavior, such as smoking cigarettes, consuming alcohol in excessive amounts, taking hard drugs, or abusing pharmaceuticals.

The corporate media whores and politicians are being paid off by the drug companies to never tell you this little secret about why it’s so important that a person also consume the THC along with the CDB’s and cdd’s in cannabis. Studies from outside of the United States prove that the higher the level of THC in a plant, the more effective it is, industrially or medically, with one exception, according to Dr. Peter Grinspoon.

In Dr. Peter Grinspoon’s 2023 book, “Seeing Through the Smoke,” he denies that cannabis helps with insomnia. Rather, he recommends using lower amounts of THC when treating sleep disorders. Although we know, for heavy users, not smoking an hour or two before bed will usually help, if one is mornally using a high sateva blend. But his claim that cannabis doesn’t help insomnia for most people seems ridiculous. How many jokes have we heard over the years about the pot smoker falling asleep in class? Its funny because it’s true.

Grinspoon also reveals in his book why the government’s approval of marinol doesn’t work. In fact, Marinol doesn’t include actual THC or any CDB’s. He writes, “To blunt this seemingly unstoppable momentum toward the legalization of medical cannabis, the U.S. government legalized marinol in 1985. Marinal is pure synthetic THC, the main psychoactive component of cannabis. Marinal does have medical utilities, however THC is only one of five hundred molecules of the cannabis plant, they don’t benefit from the entourage effect. Which results from the centralistic effect of all the molecules working together to produce a whole that is greater than its parts effect.”

Grinspoon also claims that cannabis helps with stress and depression, but it doesn’t help with anxiety, but I know this isn’t true. Maybe he should try smoking a fat joint of some good Indica bud, rather than exclusively using a vaporizer.

However, Grinspoon does accurately describe the so-called addiction specialists stupidity, or perhaps greed. By claiming cannabis is addictive, mandatory treatment will be more likely ordered by the courts, which means more money for these greedy “treatment providers.”

Grinspoon exposes another lie. The government and the anti-cannabis crowd have claimed for fifty years that heavy cannabis use can cause Schizophrenia, but according to Grinspoon recent studies show this isn’t true. Schizophrenia is an inherited condition, and using drugs may exacerbate the problem. But cannabis doesn’t cause Schizophrenia, no matter how much we we smoke. HELL YEAH!

He writes, “These results support the hypothesis that in substance induced psychotic disorder, drug abuse may precipitate development of Schizophrenia, but does not typically have a causal role in the emergence of the chronic psychosis. In (Dr. Kenneth) Kendler words, Schizophrenia following substance induced psychosis is likely a drug precipitated disorder in highly vulnerable individuals. Not a symptom predominantly caused by drug exposure. In summery, despite the drug war inspired claims of the last fifty years, cannabis does not cause Schizophrenia.”

Finally, Grinspoon writes, “They tracked a total of almost 112,000 cannabis sessions. They found the following:
1. Cannabis significantly reduced ratings of depression, anxiety, and stress;
2. Women reported larger reductions in anxiety a function of cannabis than did men;
3. Low Thc /high CBD cannabis was best for reducing perceived symptoms of depression;
4. High THC/high CBD cannabis was best for reducing perceived symptoms of stress;
5. Use of cannabis to treat depression appears to exacerbate depression over time.”

The one exception is that the liver has to process the THC in cannabis when it’s consumed orally, similar to alcohol, processed food, and other drugs or poisons. So when you are preparing home made cannabis-edibles, not store bought, which include lots of natural protein, along with anti-oxidants and anti-inflammatory, it’s better to use a less potent cannabis, not more than 10% THC if possible. And only use a small amount, not more than once or twice a week.

While smoking cannabis transfers the smoke in the lungs directly into the blood stream and doesn’t effect the liver, it can irritate the lungs. As I mentioned earlier, we know it’s very unlikely to give a person lung cancer unless they also smoke tobacco or abuse other drugs or alcohol.

According to Dr. Grinspoon, former-NFL player, Kyle Turley, claimed that the CBD’s in cannabis can cure Covid. But this isn’t exactly true. First, a person has to eat right, exercise, and don’t consume harmful substances, like tobacco, excess alcohol, or pharmaceutical or hard drugs. Then by using therapeutics and cannabis with both THC and CBD’s, a person will be able to fight off Covid better than most, and may even be able to prevent it.

On the other hand, Dr. Grinspoon decided to turned Mr. Turley into the FDA for making false statements and giving out bad medical advice, which is really sick. But Grinspoon, who is Jewish, believes he, like most Jews, has a right to use the law to attack anyone who doesn’t agree with his position. On the other hand, Grinspoon lies about his own cannabis use on the job, and argues that doctors should be able to use any drugs they feel is safe, any time, legal or not.

There are some right winged curmudgeons, like Clay and Buck, as well as some neo-liberals who over react to the odor of cannabis, but unless it’s a small enclosed environment the reaction is most likely psychosomatic, not the smoke itself. The particulates in cannabis smoke is one hundred times less than what is in tobacco smoke. and cannabis smoke dissipates very quickly as compared to cigarette smoke.

as a matter of fact, there is no comparison to the amount of smoke put out by camp fires, when compared to the smoke from cannabis. You notice, the same people who complain about cannabis smoke usually seem to be okay with sucking in the smoke from man-made fires.

It’s possible to eliminate most of the wonderful erotic smell of cannabis by using a traditional herb vaporizer. And many health conscious cannabis consumers feel vaporizers are the healthiest way to consume cannabis.

However, most experienced cannabis smokers say that the buzz from a vaporizer is different and less potent. Most of these consumers prefer smoking the flower, either from a joint or a glass pipes, rather than using a vaporizer.

All vaporizers heat up the cannabis without burning it. Then traditional vaporizers will force the vapors into a bag using a blower. Once the bag is filled it can be removed from the machine and passed around the room to ten or twelve people, before it is empty. And the odor, since the cannabis isn’t being burned, is far less noticeable than smoking. This may be a solution in some cases for people who live with people who are uncomfortable with the odor.

Like cigarettes, the vape pens include dozens of unknown chemicals besides cannabis, where vaporizers don’t use anything except the flower you put into the machine. Also, vaping with a vaping pen is extremely harmful to the lungs, for some reason. I suggest you never vape. If cannabis smoke bothers your partner or there is little kids around, use a vaporizer or step outside.

And on a final note about safety, there is evidence that using a bong can cause health problems such as cardiopulmonary distress, and erectile dysfunction in men. So never use a bong, although the evidence for this is still anecdotal.

When it comes to industrial hemp, we know the more THC in the plant the more elongated the individual fibers tend to be. This means, if you’re making rope, plywood, or cloth, the hemp fibers with more THC will be stronger, which will make the product more durable. And isn’t this what we want?

Furthermore, hemp with higher levels of THC make a richer, better bio fuel. Similar to how sweet potatoes make better bio fuel than corn, yet you notice the government promotes the use of the corporate controlled GMO corn over hemp or anything else when it comes to making bio fuel.

Doesn’t that sound like some sort of corporate collusion is going on? I can assure you that the Alpha Dope, Lard Larson, Eric Knudsen, and the petroleum industry is very happy about America producing a lesser quality bio fuel, if it keeps cannabis illegal.

There has always been a collusion between the media and the government, when it comes to the medical use of cannabis. Apparently the government in liberal states don’t mind the recreational use, as long as we don’t claim there is some medical advantage. However, I believe everyone uses it medically, even if it only makes them happy, and helps them sleep, unless they’re being shot in the feet with some sort of laser at night by the State Police or Homeland Insecurity.

About ten years after Oregon’s medical cannabis law passed the selfish Portland Mercury, a gender-impaired friendly newspaper, came out against medical cannabis dispensaries. The Mercury’s suggestion was that disabled people who are blind or in wheelchairs “need to find a friend.” In other words, “Find a local drug dealer in some back alley, who also sells meth and heroin, who can provide the cannabis…like the rest of us schmucks!”

Subsequently, the proposition to create medical cannabis dispensaries failed, and the police and drug dealers, both legal and illegal, won.

And the two cops, or drug dealers, who intentionally ran me down while I was campaigning (in 2010), got away with it, thanks to the Independent Police Review. I wrote more about this suspicious accident in the next chapter.

So my first care giver was a guy named Dominique. Dan Ernst from Chapter Four gave me his number and we hooked up right away.

He and his charming Bohemian wife and son lived literally in the middle of the woods, west of Springfiled. Dom grew some of the best outdoor medicine anywhere. They were vegans and were into everything natural, including clothing, cleaning and most importantly, pest control, which made me think about my own life and eventually led me to make several changes in my lifestyle. In the beginning I cut back on meats and sugar, but I made the mistake of eating too many cars.

Nevertheless, because of Dom and Chris I continued to improve my diet and lifestyle, and began exercising more. So now I’ve been a vegetarian since 2016 and feel 100% better, other than the daily electronic and conventional harassment.

I was pleased to learn that Dom was a friendly guy from Colorado. And he became my grower/care giver for about three or four years, and then became my care giver again a few years later, after I was divorced.

I always liked Dom, although after he said something strange I began to wonder. I was waiting for a bus at 82nd Avenue and Holgate when apparently I heard a car that interested me, and turned my head to follow the sound.

Dom told me about this later and claimed he was driving the car I looked at, and he swore I looked directly at him while he drove around the corner.

Obviously, I have no retinas and wasn’t watching anybody drive anything, but this is the kind of crap I’ve heard from a lot of idiots since moving to Oregon. Other than light perception, I lost the last of my useable vision about five or six years before I came to Oregon. This is when I began developing this other sense that I call Extra-Aibilism. So as far as actual vision, I only have light perception. And often light perception can be very misleading.

It’s kind of funny, but a lot of these gender fluid Oregonians claim to be so non-judgmental.

PART TWO:
The next caregiver I had was a guy from Oklahoma, who called himself an “Okie.”

We met at a place called Mama’s for a class about making hashish, which is concentrated cannabis. I told his wife, Kathy Kelly, and a friend of theirs, Mike, and Randy that I was looking for a caregiver. And Randy said he had room for one more patient, since he and Kelly, and Kelly’s mom, were also patients. In fact, Kelly told me that her mom was an actual witch who casts spells and made potions.

As we got to know each other, he told me that before moving to Oregon his entire family had moved to Riverside,, California during the dust bowl, which was made famous in John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath.”

He also told me that him and Mike, who was a tile guy, first met in Riverside about twenty years ago. Mike was a friendly Mexican who seemed to be the only normal friend of Randy’s I met. All of Kelly’s friends were pretty cool, but Randy’s friends,including his brother Ryan, were all pretty unsociable or just strange.

As far as Steinbeck goes, one of the best lines I remember from The Grapes of Wrath was when a character from California told another character from California, “Thing about those Okie’s, you can’t trust a man with no debt.” And sadly that’s true. The bankster and the land owner needs as many people as possible to be deeply in debt to them, in order to have leverage over them, and thereby control them. If a person has to work to feed their family, how can they refuse a mandated vaccine or mask, if their employer requires it. For economic reasons most people can’t file law suits, even if they know they will eventually win.

The other interesting thing that Randy told me was that he was related to Mary Seratt, who was involved in the conspiracy to assassinate President Lincoln. I don’t know if what he told me was true, but he seemed to be very proud of this fact.

And so for the first year is was really great having Randy as a caregiver. The buds were really fat and resembled “donkey dicks,” as he would call them.

However, about a year later Kelly let it slip during a visit that the Milwaukie Police Department, which is in Clackamas County, had visited their home and asked Randy to see his medical cannabis garden. But Randy never told me this, until I asked. Then he seemed real nervous as he tried to blow it off, as though it were completely normal that the police would want to inspect his garden.

I also found out around this time that Randy and Kelly’s next store neighbor was a female FBI agent, and being an activist and a 9-11 truther, alarm bells about the Seratt’s began to go off.

Often I would pick up my medicine at Randy’s house and bring a case of beer, which I helped them drink. And on a lot of different Holidays they would throw parties, and I often attended. although in the end, the parties were a lot smaller, and they got kind of weird. Like we would sit around this fire and no one would say anything, just pass the pipe. It was kind of like being around a bunch of crack addicts, like the ones I lived with in Roseville.

It was heath they were smoking, which is the little amber hairs on the buds itself. And you have to smoke it in a pipe, not a joint. That’s when I figured out why all the buds I had been getting lately were really smooth. like marbles. Apparently, By rolling the bud across this heath screen, which was mounted in a little box, it would scrape off the hairs. It took about three or four buds to get enough heath to smoke a very small bowl. Then if you try to smoke the scraped buds you don’t get half the buzz, because the heath is gone. Doesn’t that suck!

About a year and a half after I made Randy my grower I noticed the cannabis I got from him started having lots of stems and lots of shake, even though it never did before this. And this was before they started scraping the buds.

Kelly told me she was selling bags and hemp oil through the regular mail. I warned her to be careful, especially since she would often talk about it over the phone. Oddly, she said she wasn’t worried about getting caught.

But for a grower to sell their extra bud seemed pretty normal to me. As long as the patient had what they needed, and was willing to contribute to the cost, it shouldn’t matter what a grower does with the left over.

I traveled to Gresham with Kelly to sell a couple bags of weed to a friend, and afterwards she said she was driving to Oregon City to sell another bag. That’s when I noticed the medicine I was getting lately started looking like shit, compared to how it was in the beginning.

I called Kelly and asked her if she wanted to celebrate my birthday so We went to lunch, which was of course on my tab since she was driving. When I got home I realized my credit card was missing.

So I called Kelly if when she had time she could look in her car for my missing credit card. She said she was standing in line at Cosco’s, So I began to wonder. I quickly cancelled the card and ordered a new one. Curiously, Kelly called me about a week later and said she found my card in the car door’s pouch, except how did it get there? I only had three beers and I know I didn’t accidently put it there, although that’s what she was suggesting.

After I fell asleep I woke up about an hour later and my cheek was swollen up like a balloon. This is really weird, but everything with the Seratt’s was kind of weird.

because she took me to this concert place where she was meeting a friend.

Then after a couple beers Kelly walked me into this garden. But when we first went into the garden she said, “Oh there’s a little old man here.” As I heard someone walk past us, she said, “Oh he’s leaving.”

And then my face swelled up later that day, as though this little old man may have shot me with a poison dart.

And that’s when things got really weird with Randy too. He was always nervous, and seemed really jacked up whenever we spoke. I knew he was collecting unemployment and doing cement jobs for wealthy people who could pay him in cash, so I didn’t think to much about it. He had a small cement company, and provided part time employment to several other guys.

At first I didn’t give much thought to Randy’s being in the cement business, although I did grow up around Detroit and the stories about Jimmy Hoffa being buried in cement were prevalent. And I didn’t think much about this pavement company from Portland called Signature Paving, that put out this ad on Alpha Media about burying anarchist in pavement,even though a few years earlier a serial murderer had buried one of his teenage victims under a cement patio in his backyard.

That’s when I started really getting shocked really hard. Sometimes I was shocked so hard my leg would fly into the air and I would scream out in pain. But strangely, none of my neighbors would call the police or come to see why I was screaming in the middle of the night. Eventually I started banging a hammer on the floor whenever I was shocked, and it did eventually help, but no one ever asked why I was screaming. Although this one time my neighbor Juan came over and started pounding on the wall of my RV, yelling “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

One other time three or four people who must have been from the fire department literally broke down my gate and ran into my small yard and said, “Are you okay? Do you need any food?” Then, like comedy actors in a short, they said nothing else and quickly ran out through the broken gate. But I have pictures of the broken fence to document the date and prove that someone obviously broke my gate.

Half out of my mind, I started yelling back, “STOP ELECTROCUTING ME! STOP ELECTROCUTING ME!”

But surprisingly, the police never came to investigate, or they never spoke to me. that’s when I started building this fence around my RV and put in a gate. Once Randy came over to my home and was able to knocked on my door. I asked him how he got through the gate since it was locked, so he showed me. He was able to lift the gate and easily dislodge the slide bolt. So I put on a better lock that required a key.

Things seem to go south between me and Randy and Kelly but I didn’t know why. Something was different, and it seemed as though they were tolerating my presence, which made me feel like shit.

Like this one time when Kelly came over to bring me some medicine and asked to use the bathroom. My RV wasn’t in the best condition back then and it seemed really strange that Kelly didn’t want to drive fifteen minutes to her home. So of course I said, “Sure.”

I didn’t think much about it, but I remember having to wash some tried stuff off of my drain. And then a short time later, my gray tank became jammed. I tried everything to unplug it, but nothing worked. So I put in another simple drainage system that ran directly to the sewage line. I thought about the problem and how this could happen, and then I remembered the stuff around the drain and figured out it was probably some quick drying cement that Kelly poured into the drain. Which means Randy was probably involved and gave her the cement. And Kelly called her dear elderly mother a witch?

one time when I stayed over Randy and Kelly told me that they had had a falling out with Mike over some tile work he did. But it seemed kind of strange that he would end a twenty year relationship with someone over a few fallen tiles. It was too bad, because Mike was a gregarious guy who made their parties fun.

I stayed over for the last time when I was invited to a small party Kelly was having. In the morning, Kelly offered to make quesadillas and it tasted like shit, as maybe she put something in it with the melted cheese. I pulled a couple hairs out of my mouth and didn’t take another bite, but I never said anything.

And then out of the blue, one day Randy showed up at my house with an application for a hunting license, even though there probably should be two separate forms for fishing and hunting. since as I explained in Chapter 5 and 6 my plea bargain charged included a Class C felony, which meant I wasn’t allowed to own, use or possess a fire arm. But you are forced to fill out one form even if you only want a fishing license. The form requires that you declare whether or not you have been “convicted” of a felony, which curiously includes all plea bargains.

I was caught by surprise and told Randy I wanted to think about it, but I didn’t feel comfortable around guns, which is true. He insisted that I would have a great time! He explained he would take me hunting in the woods with lots of beer and weed.
But curiously, Kelly wouldn’t be going.

, I thought to myself, even if I could get a license it didn’t make sense that a completely blind man, with a significant hearing loss, would be following a guy around the woods, with a gun and lots of beer.

“You see the problem is,” he explained, “the state only gives hunting license to kill a bull moose to handicapped people. There’s this other guy, in case you don’t want to go. It really doesn’t matter to me,” he said.

I hadn’t told Randy anything about my dirty plea bargain because it always made me upset, and I thought it would be better to keep it to myself. Thing is, things between me and Randy hadn’t been real good, and I wondered if the cops made up some other shit about me that wasn’t true, like that I wasn’t blind, or I raped a child. It had been a long time since Randy and I had a real discussion about anything that mattered.

When he gave me a ride home this one time, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up some papers, But he insisted that only he go in, but he never said why. And we never went anywhere else together, so I knew he didn’t have any experience leading me around. So now he’s going to lead me around the woods with a gun and some beer. Frankly,it kind of scared the shit out of me that he would even suggest it, unless someone was going to pay him to have a convenient hunting accident?

So I wrote him a polite letter, saying this would be really stupid to be around anyone with guns and beer, since I was blind. I said I would love to go fishing with him some time. But even though he had several boasts and went fishing almost every other weekend, he never asked, either before or after.

So I started to wonder, was Randy hoping maybe there would be some kind of hunting accident where I walk in front of the gun? After all, we would be over there in Clatsop County, somewhere in the Coastal Mountain Range, with help hours away. Besides Clatsop County at the time was run by one of Oregon’s dirtiest persecutors, Josh Marquis, who would be very unlikely to prosecute Randy for accidently killing a sex offender who lied on his license. And maybe that’s why Kelly didn’t want to go, because she knew about them planning the accident

Marquis boasted on the radio of taking over this corrupt county, and bringing in law and order. He explained that the former-prosecutor, a woman, had fixed some tickets for her boyfriend. But the truth is, she had filed charges against two state police officers for distributing cocaine. When they came after her, she resigned and Marquis took over. All not surprisingly, the charges against the two cops were promptly dropped. And after the state “investigated” and found no wrong doing by law enforcement, no one questioned the Mighty State.

And one other time on Lard Larson’s show Marquis bragged about proposing a law that would go after ex-boyfriends or ex-husbands who call their ex-girlfriends or ex-wives to much. Surprisingly, Lard asked this sleazy opportunist, “What about ex-girlfriends or ex-wives who harass their ex-boyfriends or ex-husbands?” For the first time ever, Marquis had no snarky rebuttle.

Marquis first became infamous in Oregon for saying that he was going to charge a group of thirteen-year-old boys with a felony and make them all registered sex offenders, for slapping the bottoms of thirteen-year-old girls. Certainly it isn’t okay to do this, and perhaps suspensions were in order. But Marquis’ willingness to get involved in what was clearly a school matter shows his arrogance and willingness to abuse his power.

And this one time when Marquis told Lard that he wanted to “hock a luger” he showed his true colors and lack of professionalism as one of the worst persecutors in all of Oregon.

PART THREE:
So the next spring I decided to try and find a new caregiver so I posted an ad on Craigslist, “Looking for honest grower.” I don’t like to be censored and so I never use social media, so my options were limited.

If you can believe my good luck, through Craigslist I found a lovely young Hespanic lady named Lolita, although she may have been a cop. Actually it was her boyfriend, Nick, who responded to my ad. He said he was Canadian, so his girlfriend would be my grower on paper but he would be doing most of the actual work. He promised a couple ounces by August and the rest in late October or early November. And the best thing of all, it wouldn’t cost me a dime. I suppose I knew why.

I agreed and sent Nick the updated paperwork after I notified the state that I had changed grower’s. I also called Randy and told him what I was doing. He was brief, and said it wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, and hung up. And I never heard from him or Kelly ever again.

Just like Nick promised, I got a couple ounces in August, and the rest, a year supply, came in early November, a week before I mysteriously slipped on my front porch and broke my ankle.

For about a year after that, I hooked up with a lady friend I met through my caregiver, but it wasn’t that kind of caregiver. It’s confusing, but this was a traditional caregiver through the county, because of my multiple disabilities.

When I first applied for a caregiver through the county I was denied, because I wasn’t disabled enough. Then they called me to say there was a new pilot program that I would be eligible for. So within a couple weeks I had someone to help me out with shopping and paying my bills, and anything that helped me survive. It was long over do, and I have been grateful for this service.

PART FOUR:
My new case worker Marcus called and said that if I wanted a home care worker I would have to go through this company called Markey, but it really sucked. First, they hired the workers, so there was no way to screen out incompetent or unqualified workers.

also I wasn’t allowed to have the phone number of my worker, and they were required to block their number if they needed to call me. I suppose that made a little sense, when the worker switched every week.

Then I started getting the same worker named Amy. She kept coming over every week for over a year. Now this rule that I couldn’t have her number seemed really stupid. She agreed, and eventually she gave it to me.

Even though Amy was acquainted with one of my many blind adversaries, Gweneth van Frank Carlson, the blind peer mentor I mentioned in Chapter Four (who destroyed the infamous recording of the Deep State threatening to “destroy” my life). Apparently they both served on the committee for the Country Fair in Eugene. Despite this, things were pretty good between Amy and me, s far as I knew.

Although a year later, when I was expecting my new debit card and my ballot my mail disappeared, according to Amy, who always checked my mail when she arrived.

I was to learn that the Friday before the maintenance man asked the mail lady for my mail, and she gave him all of it, including my ballot! So this woman without my consent reached into my mailbox and gave him all of my mail, which is normally a crime. As though someone told him to do this, the maintenance man never brought the mail down to me. It appeared as though someone didn’t want me to vote. In the next chapter I’ll tell the reader more about the politically corrupt post office in Portland.

Then I found out that Debbie Sleeper, the property manager, lied and said she didn’t know anything about anything, even though she admitted later that she saw the mail lady giving Charles my mail the previous Friday.

And this wouldn’t have been a real big deal, Debbie not remembering, if Charles had brought my mail down to me.

Sometimes I would give Charles my mail key and he would come right back with the mail, then we would smoke a little. But this time for some strange reason he kept my mail in his home for ten days. And Based on a complaint I filed, on the tenth day a postal supervisor named Scot Hilton found all of my mail at Charles’ home, which he admitted taking. When he gave me the mail Hilton said, “That’s just Charles being Charles.”

This was also very strange, but a week after my mail disappeared so did Amy. She never came back. I was told by Markey she was no longer working with the company, and the rotating “workers” began again.

When they told me that Amy left the company I called her at home and asked her why? She told me it was because of all these ridiculous rules. As a result, I ended up having all sorts of strange people coming in and out of my home.

In fact, one time they sent a very large transgender man posing as a woman into my home, who called himself “Valerie.” Before leaving, he wanted to know if I would come over to his home and help him set up his water bed in his bedroom for $50 (and probably perform some other unspecified services).

“No thanks,,” I said, as I turned my head and gagged into my hand.

After complaining to my case worker, Marcus, about Markey, I was switched into another program in which I was able to choose my own caregiver from a list of qualified workers available online. While certainly it hasn’t been perfect, it was definitely an improvement since I was never propositioned again.

Suzy Hayes from Oregon City was one of the worst caregivers I ever had. But there’s been something odd about almost all of them. It seemed as though someone at the county or state itself was telling the workers to do sick, malicious things to me and my property.

I believe they were doing this to make me angry and frustrated, so I would look crazy to all of my neighbors. After all, I don’t pay for the home care service and just like lawyers and politicians, people usually only get what they pay for.

The first incident took place during Suzy’s first week. It involved finding my kitchen drain strainer once again in the trash can. This happened twice before with other caregivers. Once I found the strainer in the garbage just after another caregiver, Keyona, left my home. I noticed it was gone so I checked the garbage. And surprise, surprise, there it was….

And it disappeared another time, wile her grandmother Denise was working for me.

Since I know someone intentionally jammed up my gray tank several years ago, as I mentioned above, it almost appears as though someone wanted to make me appear careless by allowing food and other garbage to go down the drain.

Having my caregivers make my environment as unhealthy as possible seemed to be one of the deep State’s objectives, along with fucking up every computer, printer and almost every other electronic device in my home, including my talking clocks.

Given the nature of my coerced plea bargain, it was very strange that Suzy’s cell phone message sounded more like a fourteen-year-old horny girl flirting with the caller, rather then a 48 or fifty-eight-year-old woman.

And when I called Suzy at her home on her land line, her roommate, Kenny, said he never heard of anyone named Suzy. A few minutes later I called back and politely asked if he was Mark, the bus driver (Suzy’s “boyfriend”). He quickly said “no”, sounding nervous, and hung up the phone.

Suzy told me later that Kenny claimed he misunderstood me (twice) and she said “It was an honest mistake.” I didn’t think this was true, but I didn’t know why they would both lie to me.

Another time, shortly after Suzy brought in my groceries and left, I found a bag of sugar that had a two to three inch cut in the bag and the sugar had leaked out everywhere. When I took it out of the bag and set it on the counter, it definitely wasn’t leaking. So I checked the bag after she left and found that there was no sugar in the shopping bag it came in. I remember, she picked it up and confirmed it was a 4 lb. bag and not a 5 lb. bag, and then apparently used a key or something to cut the bag open and set it back on the counter.

I remember this because I joked about how corporate America is always cheating us with smaller and smaller bags or boxes, charging the same amount. She agreed and laughed. But I guess the joke was on me?

Another time, I believe one of my caregivers had punched a hole in a bottle of vegetable oil I had bought, and it leaked onto the bottom of the cabinet for weeks before I discovered it was leaking. It turned out to be a real mess and I suspect it drew lots of ants.

I had told Suzy when she picked up my shopping list earlier that day how my last caregiver, Keyona, had once used a knife in my sink to sliced open my kitchen hose when someone she claimed to be her “uncle Paul” had called me outside to examine my fence that curiously had also just been vandalized.

Once I hired this “recovering alcoholic” named Brian who was the brother of a lady friend. She said he desperately needed work. Interestingly, he was also the husband of a local bartender who worked at a local bar called Checkers. Curiously, in 2010, I was suspiciously run down while campaigning for medical cannabis dispensaries outside the same bar located on the same corner.

I had stepped outside for a moment to say sweet goodbye to my lady-friend, when Brian maliciously cut open a water line that ran along the floor. Luckily, I had already turned off the water or it would have been another real mess.

In addition, let me add one more fact about this ongoing vandalism. Apparently someone had been pouring dirt and maybe bugs into the outside wall to the north of my RV. When I pulled back the aluminum from under the sink, because of the strong smell of some dead animal, I discovered that my outside wall was packed with wet mud. For the record, I took a dozen pics of the dirt pouring out of the wall.

I suspect, just like the dirt put into my wall, both the leaking oil and bag of sugar, as well as the clogged drain, would draw lots and lots of bugs. And I think that was part of the plan, to poison my environment and make me as unhealthy as possible. It’s the way the Deep State attacks cannabis advocates, making them appear unclean and unhealthy people.

I suspect along with spraying or poisoning my environment, destroying my home seems to be one of the primary forms of torture being used against me, taking advantage of my blindness and vulnerability.

Around Christmas the Deep State had destroyed both of my talking computers so I had Suzy write a handwritten letter to the FBI Director, Christopher Ray, explaining this abuse from what I believed to be led by representatives of law enforcement and asked the FBI to investigate. Not surprisingly I never heard back from Mr. Ray, although in truth, I don’t know if Suzy ever mailed my desperate plea for help since she was one of the people abusing me.

However because of Twittergate, we now know how truly corrupt the FBI really is. And Tucker Carlson, we now know the CIA murdered President John Kennedy. So it’s unlikely that the Injustice Department or anyone else from the government will make them stop.

Before I ever met Suzy, I met a woman from Alabama I got to know by participating in a conference call for “targeted individuals”. She claimed her husband, Joe, was abusing her and we talked privately for awhile. Then she came for a three week visit and we got to know each other, but it didn’t work out.

While she was here, my caregiver at the time, curiously named Kasara, pronounced “Kazara”, had dumped all of my mail out into the parking lot. Apparently, my guest from Alabama found it on the ground when they were bringing in the groceries, and told me after Kasara left.

After my friend returned to Alabama, I discovered hundreds of food and candy wrappers everywhere in my RV, including places where they seemed to be hidden. A few weeks after her visit my RV began to fill with dozens of mice, and at least one rat I could hear chewing through my wooden floor at night! I took a picture of this one chewed piece of wood since I suspect no one would believe it.

Another time when Suzy brought my groceries I found a loaf of bread that had a five inch slice in it, similar to the bag of sugar. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice until after she left.

When I first interviewed Suzy for the job she said she was 58 and owned a home. Later she apparently forgot what she told me, and said she was 48 and living in her boyfriend’s home. Since I’ve had lots of problems with lots of the local bus drivers over accommodation issues, and her boyfriend Mark worked for the bus company, I eventually concluded she was also working with the local bus company, Tri-Met.

For example, the same lady-friend I mentioned above, who was helping me out around the house, said she was buying pills off a man named Terry. And Terry was married to a Tri-Met Max driver and my friend said Terry was getting a regular prescription for his back pain through his wife’s insurance.

Also, once, around this same time a Tri-Met driver called the Clackamas County Sheriff’s Department on me because I wouldn’t leave his bus. I boarded the bus with a heavily loaded backpack, a bag of groceries, and my white cane at the local Win-Co in Clackamas County.

He said he would not let me ride his bus because I had flipped him off earlier that day, after exiting the bus. This is true. I did this because he failed to lower the step and provide an accommodations the bus company claimed all of it’s drivers were providing to all blind riders with white canes. Except this wasn’t true since this driver had failed to provide this accommodation both when I boarded his bus and when I exited it. In fact, I flipped him off because I almost tripped because of the large drop off at this particular stop, across from Win-Co.

Just a few weeks earlier I had had a long discussion over this issue with a supervisor from Tri-Met. She explained that sometimes the noise frightened some guide dogs, so drivers are advised not to lower the step for people with guide dogs unless specifically requested. She also told me that some drivers were scolded by a few selfish blind people who were annoyed that drivers would automatically provide this accommodation to blind people with white canes without being prompted. But she agreed with me, all drivers should and would provide this accommodation when they can identify that a person is blind and carrying a white cane.

So I felt good about finally resolving this issue with Tri-Met, or so I thought.

Before the reader dismisses this concern Let me explain why I need this particular accommodation every time I ride the bus. When the step is lowered the bus also puts out a loud beeping noise. Unfortunately, the sound is probably too loud and I suspect it annoys most people, including I suspect some drivers.

However, because I am completely blind and have a significant hearing loss, it is especially helpful to hear the sound so I know where the bus is located. Otherwise two buses will pull up, one after the other, and I’ll never know that there was another bus behind the first until both buses pull away. Sometimes the driver will stop to see if I need that bus, but often they won’t.

I know this is true for a lot of people who ride the bus. I had reconstructive surgery in 2005 on my left knee, but the driver would never know by looking. So lowering the step keeps my knee safe.

So when this bus driver failed to lower the step, despite my white cane, I flipped him off after I exited the bus across from Win-Co. I was on the public sidewalk and had every right to do what I did.

So maybe Mark and Suzy, and Kenny (who sounded a lot like the driver who called the cops on me) are using the Multnomah County’s caregiver program to retaliate against me?

Ironically, it was a case from right here in Clackamas County, Oregon that set the precedence for establishing our First Amendment Right to flip off anybody, as long as it doesn’t violate their personal space or interfere with their ability to perform their job.

In this case a man was driving down the road and flipped off a sheriff deputy who was going the other way. The deputy turned around and pulled the man over, writing him a bogus ticket. Thankfully, he appealed the case all the way to the Supreme Court and we won the right to give anyone the finger, including cops or bus drivers, who probably deserve it more than anybody.

Then I discovered that the used CD player Suzy bought for me at Good Will didn’t work and there’s no refunds at Good Will. Suzy claimed she tested it when she bought it, as I requested, but obviously she didn’t.

When she left for the store I offered her a CD if she needed one, but she said she had one in her car. So she never tested the CD player, or destroyed it before she gave it to me.

I can’t actually prove Suzy did this, even if she admitted having a suitcase loaded with CDs and stealing from a blind person is so easy, but in 2020 I discovered that almost a hundred of my best CDs disappeared.

Then that same week Suzy bought me grapes with seeds from the grocery store. Since I haven’t gotten grapes with seeds for years and years, I didn’t know they still sold grapes with seeds, which really sucks. So why would she buy her blind client grapes with seeds, when she knows I would have to put the grape in my mouth to find the seeds. I don’t think it was an accident, just another way to piss me off.

She offered to pick up a food box at the Clackamas County Community Center which was located a few blocks away, where I once volunteered. I thought this was a good idea, since St. Vincent DePaul maliciously started putting empty peanut butter jars in the food boxes they delivered. However, after the second or third time I got a food box I noticed that a lot of the food was expired, rotten or appeared to be tampered with. So I told Suzy never go there for any food. Despite this, she kept bringing me food from that place, which I promptly threw away after she left.

But one of the worst things that Suzy ever did to me was to poison my pizza.

On a Tuesday in January I had Suzy pick up a cheese pizza from Poppa Murphy and get me some medicine from the place on 52nd Street. After eating the pizza that night I woke up to find I could barely talk and had difficulty forming any thoughts, as though I had had a stroke. Not only was this physical, but it was also effecting me mentally. I was unable to process any complex thought or action, and I was no longer able to play guitar. the lingering effects lasted for a couple years.

Curiously, I was scheduled to take a blood test the following day, around Eleven in the morning. The Phlebotomist said she agreed I appeared to have a speech impediment, but she didn’t know if it was normal. It’s not, as my many calls to KBOO’s “Voices From the Edge” proves. In addition, both my parents and brother, as well as my case worker, Marcus, definitely said they noticed a difference in my speech.

The Phlebotomist also said they were not looking for poison in this blood test, and no test that would have proved I was poisoned was ever done, because my regular doctor wasn’t available. So this ignorant substitute nurse from my Home Care service wasn’t alarmed by my inability to speak.

The test did show a big jump in my blood sugar, and some damage to my liver, so the pharmacist from Home Care put me on a diabetes medicine, even though I didn’t have diabetes.

In fact, I have never had a blood sugar that was so high which suggests that damage was done to my pancreas by some poison that I suspect was put on my pizza. A few years earlier I suspect the Deep State put something in my food or beverages to make me hallucinate for three or four days. That time the ignorant shrink from Adventist Hospital, who was obviously serving Big Pharma, put me on a strong anti-hallucinogenic called Halcion and told me to stop smoking cannabis, when I explained what happened.

About two or three weeks before my pizza was poisoned, Suzy’s told me that her other client Robin died. She may have been lying about all of this, but Suzy said he was extremely over weight and very unhealthy. She often said she was very angry with him because he wouldn’t do what she wanted, especially just before he died. However, when he died she immediately blame the medical staff at the hospital, saying “He probably really pissed them off and they killed him!”

It seemed really strange, that she would use these exact words, “They killed him,” since she could have said his life style killed him and I would have never thought anything.

I know she can be an extremely violent person. When I tried to ask her to speak up and let me know where she was because she walks around all the time, she became angry and stormed out of here, breaking my gate when she left.

Another time she admitted to me that she got angry in front of her three grand kids, ages two to six, and threw the remote at the TV violently breaking the screen!

And even though she told me he knew Robin was on a very special diet while in the hospital’s ICU, she told me she took him two deluxe cheese burgers from McDonald’s and he died the very next day.

She said she had to sneak up the back stairs at the hospital to bring him this food, so no one would see her. This means she knew he wasn’t supposed to have any kind of unhealthy food that wasn’t on his diet, especially fast food.

That’s why I think Suzy Hayes also poisoned my pizza by putting something on it, like rat poison, since I got so sick. It took me several years before I began to feel somewhat normal. And I suspect my liver and pancreas never fully recovered from whatever she must have gave me. This strong reaction wouldn’t have happened if it were only to much carbohydrates in my blood. That’s why I strongly suspect she put some poison on both Robin and my food, since 80% of the time when people are murdered by poison the murderers are never caught.

And people from the northwest, especially Wiccans, are known for poisoning their victims. Mostly women who poison men with potions and powders.

It’s no wonder they want to take away the guns from men…

3 Americas: More Truth Than We Can Handle
Chapter 09
Caregivers and Care-Takers
by DR Wolfe

{As I continue a full revision, this is one of the new chapters from my revised autobiography, “3 Americas”: More Truth Than We Can Handle.”}

(Includes strong language)

PART ONE:
There are Caregivers, and care-takers, and sometimes we can’t tell the difference. But today one of these words means a whole lot more than it used to mean.

We know care-takers are people who care for the homes and estates of the wealthy and sometimes those who properly expose of the dead. On the other hand, there are people like my biological father Harold who showed me this woman’s dead body in a cellar under his step father’s bar in Port Huron, Michigan.

Was she my dead Native-American ancestor as Harold claimed, or was she a young kidnapped black girl from Detroit, I was only five when he showed me her dead body. I don’t know if he was being truthful, except I know he hated black people more than anything and after all these years it still haunts me.

But what I do know is that for a long time a care giver was thought to be someone who cared for people in nursing facilities or similar places that care for the sick or infirm. But beginning in the late 1990’s it also meant people who provided medical cannabis by either growing it or by facilitating the transfer of the medicine.

Under many state laws it’s all legal today, but it wasn’t always that way. Beginning in 1938 the government and corporations were going after advocates who use or support those who use cannabis. They targeted people with no money or power. The idea was to create a public psychosis by using the CIA’s techniques of brainwashing and make cannabis smokers the villains of America. In fact, according to the Daily mail President Trump created a secret task force of sick fucks to collect any embarrassing or degrading video or other material on people who use cannabis, with no regard to their mental health or disability.

Beginning in 1999, for fifteen consecutive years I renewed my medical cannabis card and waited several more years after it was legal before I gave up the card. The last time I renewed, in 2014, Dr. Coleman from the infamous Richmond Clinic, which I wrote about in the next chapter, said to me as I was leaving, “So, you won’t need a card next year?”

I never gave him a straight answer, but I suspected he wasn’t asking me because he cared about my health. Rather I suspect he and the clinic were being pressured by DEA and the pharmaceutical industry to stop signing medical cannabis cards, except in the most severe cases.

At the same time, the State of Oregon, which has been in the pocket of the pharmaceutical industry since Dr. Kitzhaber took over the governor’s office in 1996. Even though less than an ounce of cannabis had been decriminalized for twenty years, the following year Kizhaber and the Republican Legislature made possessing cannabis a crime, even one seed,

The following year the voters responded by overwhelmingly approving Oregon’s medical cannabis act. However, over the next decade Governors Kitzhaber and Kulongoski along with the legislature (on both sides of the isle) began passing laws and regulations that made medical cannabis more and more restrictive.

Then Oregon passed recreational cannabis and the State transferred control of the program over to the Oregon Liquor Commission. This was despite that many card holders at the time were recovering alcoholics. In fact, almost all card holders reported their dependence on alcohol or pharmaceuticals had been significantly reduced, and this really pissed off Big Pharma.

So then they got their blackmailed politicians from D.C. to push harder against cannabis, and even make some of their drugs mandatory. And as we know from the mandates on this experimental gene therapy vaccine for Covid and the amount of sugar and salt in our food, the government doesn’t care about our health, only the profits of Big Pharma.

But don’t worry, thankfully Big Pharma happens to make drugs to treat the symptoms of high blood pressure and high blood sugar, which means we can continue to eat garbage and sit around all day and watch TV and play video games. That is, as long as we deprive our brains of oxygen, by always wearing masks, and get vaccinated with these experimental boosters every six months.

According to conservative talk show host Charlie Kirk, in September of 2022 the FDA published a study that claimed Salmon was more unhealthy, because of the fat, than Frosted Flakes, which proves to anyone with a brain that the FDA doesn’t give a crap about consumers or what we consume.

first, the brain needs some small amount of fat to work efficiently and fish is one of the best sources of animal fat available, but apparently the chemical crusaders at the FDA don’t know this, or they’re lying and they just don’t care.

Fat from fish is extremely healthy for humans because it contains Omega 3 and Omega 6 fatty acids. And it’s a hell of a lot better than the fat from pork, beef or chicken, although pork is the worst. And to be fair, chicken breast from free range chickens isn’t too bad if one feels they must have meat.

Perhaps it’s time to divide the Food and Drug Administration into two separate departments, the sick fuck drug pushers from Chicago and New York, and the people who actually believe in consuming safe, healthy food.

Wen I moved to Oregon in 1998 most people, including the media, were always looking for a natural cure, whenever possible. Now it seems like the media and the government only talks about a man-made chemical solution to solve every health problem, in between their non-stop drug ads.

On the other hand, there is some good uses in our food for man-made synthetic chemicals. Most of us would never know the taste of vanilla if it weren’t for synthetic extracts made in a lab, since natural vanilla is rare and very expensive. And without synthetic Vitamin C most of us who take Vitamin C every day would be far less healthy.

when a man-made chemical is created with the best interests of people in mind, we can feel good about progress. But when the motivation is strictly financial, we need to be protected by the government from what processed chemicals are being put into our food. But this isn’t what’s happening at the pharmaceutical-controlled FDA, where apparently there’s a belief that most man-made chemicals are good for us. But the truth is, using natural ingredients is more costly to the corporation’s bottom line, and the FDA and the Democreeps are completely controlled by Big Pharma.

So it’s not surprising that the State of Oregon and its twisted politicians, who are overwhelmingly Democrat, openly support letting children receive gender deaffirming surgery and giving them gender bending drugs, that were never intended for this purpose.

Looking back, it’s a sad part of our American history that we allowed our federal government to arbitrarily decide to make a safe drugs such as cannabis illegal, comparing it to heroin. While today this same government allows children to be mutilated and poisoned with these harmful “legal drugs.”

But selfish greedy minds usually prevail in our unrestricted capitalist system, and the dutiful Pharma whores on both sides of the isle made cannabis illegal and said it had absolutely no medical benefit. And even today the politicians still won’t admit the government was wrong and remove cannabis from Schedule A.

It began in 1938, but within a few decades under Nixon and Hoover America had found a new stream of revenue. That is The government began generating revenue from the people who used or sold cannabis by passing stronger drug laws. This way they could also take out the war protesters and the “back to nature crowd.” Within two decades, under Biden and Clinton’s Crime Bill, the war on drugs and the prison industrial complex exploded and cannabis smokers paid the price.

I moved to Oregon in the summer of 1998, just in time to vote on Oregon’s medical cannabis bill, which overwhelmingly passed.

For many years, the media and most people who worked for government (who are regularly drug tested), would say cannabis is a “gateway drug” that will lead to heroin and meth addiction. Actually, as we are learning now, it’s the exact opposite. In states where cannabis is legal, alcohol and hard drug abuse are down, among all ages. And this is why they are going after these medical cannabis programs. They don’t care if people benefit from smoking cannabis, they just don’t want people like Paul Stanford talking about it’s medical value.

We’ve known for decades there is all sorts of medical advantages to using cannabis over other drugs provided by Big Pharma.

First,cannabis is a anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant, while Ibuprofen and Tylenol destroy the kidneys and liver if over used or used with other drugs. But it’s true, they do provide some minimal pain relief and it’s a lot better than using any prescribtion drugs.

On the other hand, users say cannabis provides some relief from most types of pain while causing no harm to any human organs. So we know the government is either stupid or more likely, deceitful, when it comes to saying cannabis has no medical value.

Big Pharma and the government is now trying to promote a THC free version of the plant, without the key ingredient, THC. There is no medical advantage from removing THC. In fact it’s the opposite effect, but apparently some people can’t handle the buzz. That’s okay as long as adults still have the choice.

Those of us who use cannabis regularly know that the THC in cannabis is the most important ingredient, combined with the other almost 200 compounds in cannabis, that helps with depression, sleeplessness, chronic pain, and many other medical conditions, including preventing cancer. But you can’t say this in an ad, according to the FTC or the FDA, who apparently think its okay to put high-fructose corn syrup and Maltodextrin, along with a ton of salt, in almost everything we eat that is processed. And you wonder why there’s so many obese children in America?

But having the media, government and pharmaceutical industry lie to us is not unusual. In fact, the government lawyers announced that they had obtained an Alexander Acosta settlement, where the manufacturers and distributors of opiates would have to pay eight months of their profits in damages for using doctors to peddle opiates to their patients for several decades. The patients would very often go on to use heroin.

The corporate whores in the media, who need the ads from Big Pharma, applauded the Injustice Department’s settlement, calling it “ground breaking!”

In other words, for intentionally and systematically killing a half million Americans the Sack-of-shit-lers and the other drug peddlers would get away with a virtual fine that, in corporate terms, was equivalent to a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.

If cannabis were legal, many of these half million people who died would never have started taking pills, and ending up on heroin when they couldn’t get any more pills from their doctor.

For decades, one of the biggest obstacles to legalization of cannabis was an organization called the “Partnership for a Drug Free America”, who was ironically funded almost entirely by the pharmaceutical and alcohol industries. In other words, take our highly addictive drugs and alcohol, but don’t touch the natural stuff that grows from the earth. The stuff that we righteous assholes in the media call “dope”.

First, did you know no one has ever gotten lung cancer from smoking cannabis? This is because, once the complex compound gets into the blood stream and saturates the blood it seeks out mutant cells in the lungs and body and literally smothers them to death. It does this by completely coating the exterior of the tumorous cell which blocks nutrients from getting into the cell’s membrane. And like magic, the mutant tumorous cell literally starves to death!

The corporate media whores and politicians are being paid off by the drug companies to never tell you this little secret about why it’s so important that a person also ingests the THC along with the CDB’s and cdd’s in cannabis. Studies from outside of the United States prove that the higher the level of THC in a plant, the more effective it is, industrially or medically, with one exception.

the exception is that the liver has to process cannabis when it’s consumed orally, similar to alcohol and other drugs or poisons. So when you are preparing cannabis-edibles, which include lots of natural protein, it’s better to use a less potent cannabis, not more than 10% THC.

While smoking cannabis transfers the smoke in the lungs directly into the blood stream and doesn’t effect the liver, it can irritate the lungs. As I mentioned earlier, we know it won’t give a person lung cancer unless they also smoke tobacco or abuse other drugs or alcohol.

There are some people who over react to the odor of cannabis, but unless it’s a closed environment the reaction is most likely psychosomatic. The particulates in cannabis smoke is one hundred times less than what is in tobacco smoke. and disapates very quickly as compared to cigarette smoke. And there is no comparison to the amount of smoke put out by camp fires, when compared to cannabis smoke. You notice, the same people who complain about cannabis seem to be okay with sucking in the smoke from man-made fires.

But it’s possible to eliminate the wonderful erotic smell of cannabis by using a vaporizer or vaping. And many health concious cannabis consumers feel saporizers are the healthiest way to consume cannabis. But many experienced cannabis smokers say that the buzz from a vaporizer is somehow diffeerent and they prefer smoking the flower, either from a joint or a glass pipes.

The vaporizer quickly heats up the cannabis without burning it, and a blower forces the vapors into a bag. Once the bag is filled it can be removed from the machine and passed around the room to ten or twelve people. And the odor, since the cannabis isn’t being burned, is far less noticeable than smoking.

On the other hand, these bape pens include other unknown chemicals besides cannabis, where vaporizers don’t use anything except the type of cannabis you put into the machine. In addition, vaping with a vaping pen is extremely harmful to the lungs for some reason, so I suggest you never vape. If it bothers your partner or there is little kids around, use a vaporizer or step outside.

And on a final note, there is evidence that using a bong can cause health problems such as cardiopulmonary distress, and erectile dysfunction in men.

When it comes to industrial hemp, we know the more THC in the plant,s the more elongated the individual fibers tend to be. This means, if you’re making rope, plywood, or cloth, the hemp fibers with more THC will be stronger, which will make the product more durable. And isn’t this what we want?

Furthermore, hemp with higher levels of THC make a richer, better bio fuel. Similar to how sweet potatoes make better bio fuel than corn, yet you notice the government promotes the use of the corporate controlled GMO corn over hemp or anything else when it comes to making bio fuel.

Doesn’t that sound like some sort of collusion is going on? I can assure you that the Alpha Dope, Lard Larson, Eric Knudsen, and the petroleum industry is very happy about America producing a lesser quality bio fuel, if it keeps cannabis illegal.

But there has always been a collusion between the media and the government, when it comes to the medical use of cannabis. Apparently the government in liberal states don’t mind the recreational use, as long as we don’t claim there is some medical advantage. However, I believe everyone uses it medically, even if it only makes them happy, and helps them sleep (unless they’re being shot in the feet with some sort of laser at night by the State Police or Homeland Insecurity ).

About ten years after Oregon’s medical cannabis act passed the selfish Portland Mercury, a gender-impaired friendly newspaper, came out against medical cannabis dispensaries. The Mercury’s suggestion was that disabled people who are blind or in wheelchairs “need to find a friend.” In other words, “Find a local drug dealer in some back alley, who also sells meth and heroin, who can provide the cannabis…like the rest of us shmucks!”

Subsequently, the proposition to create medical cannabis dispensaries failed, and the police and drug dealers, both legal and illegal, won.

And the two cops, or drug dealers, who intentionally ran me down while I was campaigning (in 2010), got away with it, thanks to the Independent Police Review Committee and Officer Daniel (or maybe Jeff) Leonard. If the reader is interested, I wrote more about this suspicious accident in the next chapter.

So my first care giver was a guy named Dominique. Dan Ernst from Chapter Four gave me his number and we hooked up right away.

He and his charming Bohemian wife and son lived literally in the middle of the woods, west of Springfiled. Dom grew some of the best outdoor medicine anywhere. They were vegans and were into everything natural, including clothing, cleaning and most importantly, pest control, which made me think about my own life and eventually led me to make several changes in my lifestyle. In the beginning I cut back on meats and sugar, but I made the mistake of eating too many cars.

Nevertheless, because of Dom and Chris I continued to improve my diet and lifestyle, and began exercising more. So now I’ve been a vegetarian since 2016 and feel 100% better, other than the daily electronic and conventional harassment.

I was pleased to learn that Dom was a friendly guy from Colorado. And he became my grower/care giver for about three or four years, and then became my care giver again a few years later, after I was divorced.

I always liked Dom, although after he said something strange I began to wonder. I was waiting for a bus at 82nd Avenue and Holgate when apparently I heard a car that interested me, and turned my head to follow the sound.

Dom told me about this later and claimed he was driving the car I looked at, and he swore I looked directly at him while he drove around the corner.

Obviously, I have no retinas and wasn’t watching anybody drive anything, but this is the kind of crap I’ve heard from a lot of idiots since moving to Oregon. Other than light perception, I lost the last of my useable vision about five or six years before I came to Oregon. This is when I began developing this other sense that I call Extra-Aibilism. So as far as actual vision, I only have light perception. And often light perception can be very misleading.

It’s kind of funny, but a lot of these gender fluid Oregonians claim to be so non-judgmental.

PART TWO:
The next caregiver I had was a guy from Oklahoma, who called himself an “Okie.”

We met at a place called Mama’s for a class about making hashish, which is concentrated cannabis. I told his wife, Kathy Kelly, and a friend of theirs, Mike, and Randy that I was looking for a caregiver. And Randy said he had room for one more patient, since he and Kelly, and Kelly’s mom, were also patients. In fact, Kelly told me that her mom was an actual witch who casts spells and made potions.

As we got to know each other, he told me that before moving to Oregon his entire family had moved to Riverside,, California during the dust bowl, which was made famous in John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath.”

He also told me that him and Mike, who was a tile guy, first met in Riverside about twenty years ago. Mike was a friendly Mexican who seemed to be the only normal friend of Randy’s I met. All of Kelly’s friends were pretty cool, but Randy’s friends,including his brother Ryan, were all pretty unsociable or just strange.

As far as Steinbeck goes, one of the best lines I remember from The Grapes of Wrath was when a character from California told another character from California, “Thing about those Okie’s, you can’t trust a man with no debt.” And sadly that’s true. The bankster and the land owner needs as many people as possible to be deeply in debt to them, in order to have leverage over them, and thereby control them. If a person has to work to feed their family, how can they refuse a mandated vaccine or mask, if their employer requires it. For economic reasons most people can’t file law suits, even if they know they will eventually win.

The other interesting thing that Randy told me was that he was related to Mary Seratt, who was involved in the conspiracy to assassinate President Lincoln. I don’t know if what he told me was true, but he seemed to be very proud of this fact.

And so for the first year is was really great having Randy as a caregiver. The buds were really fat and resembled “donkey dicks,” as he would call them.

However, about a year later Kelly let it slip during a visit that the Milwaukie Police Department, which is in Clackamas County, had visited their home and asked Randy to see his medical cannabis garden. But Randy never told me this, until I asked. Then he seemed real nervous as he tried to blow it off, as though it were completely normal that the police would want to inspect his garden.

I also found out around this time that Randy and Kelly’s next store neighbor was a female FBI agent, and being an activist and a 9-11 truther, alarm bells about the Seratt’s began to go off.

Often I would pick up my medicine at Randy’s house and bring a case of beer, which I helped them drink. And on a lot of different Holidays they would throw parties, and I often attended. although in the end, the parties were a lot smaller, and they got kind of weird. Like we would sit around this fire and no one would say anything, just pass the pipe. It was kind of like being around a bunch of crack addicts, like the ones I lived with in Roseville.

It was heath they were smoking, which is the little amber hairs on the buds itself. And you have to smoke it in a pipe, not a joint. That’s when I figured out why all the buds I had been getting lately were really smooth. like marbles. Apparently, By rolling the bud across this heath screen, which was mounted in a little box, it would scrape off the hairs. It took about three or four buds to get enough heath to smoke a very small bowl. Then if you try to smoke the scraped buds you don’t get half the buzz, because the heath is gone. Doesn’t that suck!

About a year and a half after I made Randy my grower I noticed the cannabis I got from him started having lots of stems and lots of shake, even though it never did before this. And this was before they started scraping the buds.

Kelly told me she was selling bags and hemp oil through the regular mail. I warned her to be careful, especially since she would often talk about it over the phone. Oddly, she said she wasn’t worried about getting caught.

But for a grower to sell their extra bud seemed pretty normal to me. As long as the patient had what they needed, and was willing to contribute to the cost, it shouldn’t matter what a grower does with the left over.

I traveled to Gresham with Kelly to sell a couple bags of weed to a friend, and afterwards she said she was driving to Oregon City to sell another bag. That’s when I noticed the medicine I was getting lately started looking like shit, compared to how it was in the beginning.

I called Kelly and asked her if she wanted to celebrate my birthday so We went to lunch, which was of course on my tab since she was driving. When I got home I realized my credit card was missing.

So I called Kelly if when she had time she could look in her car for my missing credit card. She said she was standing in line at Cosco’s, So I began to wonder. I quickly cancelled the card and ordered a new one. Curiously, Kelly called me about a week later and said she found my card in the car door’s pouch, except how did it get there? I only had three beers and I know I didn’t accidently put it there, although that’s what she was suggesting.

After I fell asleep I woke up about an hour later and my cheek was swollen up like a balloon. This is really weird, but everything with the Seratt’s was kind of weird.

because she took me to this concert place where she was meeting a friend.

Then after a couple beers Kelly walked me into this garden. But when we first went into the garden she said, “Oh there’s a little old man here.” As I heard someone walk past us, she said, “Oh he’s leaving.”

And then my face swelled up later that day, as though this little old man may have shot me with a poison dart.

And that’s when things got really weird with Randy too. He was always nervous, and seemed really jacked up whenever we spoke. I knew he was collecting unemployment and doing cement jobs for wealthy people who could pay him in cash, so I didn’t think to much about it. He had a small cement company, and provided part time employment to several other guys.

At first I didn’t give much thought to Randy’s being in the cement business, although I did grow up around Detroit and the stories about Jimmy Hoffa being buried in cement were prevalent. And I didn’t think much about this pavement company from Portland called Signature Paving, that put out this ad on Alpha Media about burying anarchist in pavement,even though a few years earlier a serial murderer had buried one of his teenage victims under a cement patio in his backyard.

That’s when I started really getting shocked really hard. Sometimes I was shocked so hard my leg would fly into the air and I would scream out in pain. But strangely, none of my neighbors would call the police or come to see why I was screaming in the middle of the night. Eventually I started banging a hammer on the floor whenever I was shocked, and it did eventually help, but no one ever asked why I was screaming. Although this one time my neighbor Juan came over and started pounding on the wall of my RV, yelling “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

One other time three or four people who must have been from the fire department literally broke down my gate and ran into my small yard and said, “Are you okay? Do you need any food?” Then, like comedy actors in a short, they said nothing else and quickly ran out through the broken gate. But I have pictures of the broken fence to document the date and prove that someone obviously broke my gate.

Half out of my mind, I started yelling back, “STOP ELECTROCUTING ME! STOP ELECTROCUTING ME!”

But surprisingly, the police never came to investigate, or they never spoke to me. that’s when I started building this fence around my RV and put in a gate. Once Randy came over to my home and was able to knocked on my door. I asked him how he got through the gate since it was locked, so he showed me. He was able to lift the gate and easily dislodge the slide bolt. So I put on a better lock that required a key.

Things seem to go south between me and Randy and Kelly but I didn’t know why. Something was different, and it seemed as though they were tolerating my presence, which made me feel like shit.

Like this one time when Kelly came over to bring me some medicine and asked to use the bathroom. My RV wasn’t in the best condition back then and it seemed really strange that Kelly didn’t want to drive fifteen minutes to her home. So of course I said, “Sure.”

I didn’t think much about it, but I remember having to wash some tried stuff off of my drain. And then a short time later, my gray tank became jammed. I tried everything to unplug it, but nothing worked. So I put in another simple drainage system that ran directly to the sewage line. I thought about the problem and how this could happen, and then I remembered the stuff around the drain and figured out it was probably some quick drying cement that Kelly poured into the drain. Which means Randy was probably involved and gave her the cement. And Kelly called her dear elderly mother a witch?

one time when I stayed over Randy and Kelly told me that they had had a falling out with Mike over some tile work he did. But it seemed kind of strange that he would end a twenty year relationship with someone over a few fallen tiles. It was too bad, because Mike was a gregarious guy who made their parties fun.

I stayed over for the last time when I was invited to a small party Kelly was having. In the morning, Kelly offered to make quesadillas and it tasted like shit, as maybe she put something in it with the melted cheese. I pulled a couple hairs out of my mouth and didn’t take another bite, but I never said anything.

And then out of the blue, one day Randy showed up at my house with an application for a hunting license, even though there probably should be two separate forms for fishing and hunting. since as I explained in Chapter 5 and 6 my plea bargain charged included a Class C felony, which meant I wasn’t allowed to own, use or possess a fire arm. But you are forced to fill out one form even if you only want a fishing license. The form requires that you declare whether or not you have been “convicted” of a felony, which curiously includes all plea bargains.

I was caught by surprise and told Randy I wanted to think about it, but I didn’t feel comfortable around guns, which is true. He insisted that I would have a great time! He explained he would take me hunting in the woods with lots of beer and weed.
But curiously, Kelly wouldn’t be going.

, I thought to myself, even if I could get a license it didn’t make sense that a completely blind man, with a significant hearing loss, would be following a guy around the woods, with a gun and lots of beer.

“You see the problem is,” he explained, “the state only gives hunting license to kill a bull moose to handicapped people. There’s this other guy, in case you don’t want to go. It really doesn’t matter to me,” he said.

I hadn’t told Randy anything about my dirty plea bargain because it always made me upset, and I thought it would be better to keep it to myself. Thing is, things between me and Randy hadn’t been real good, and I wondered if the cops made up some other shit about me that wasn’t true, like that I wasn’t blind, or I raped a child. It had been a long time since Randy and I had a real discussion about anything that mattered.

When he gave me a ride home this one time, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up some papers, But he insisted that only he go in, but he never said why. And we never went anywhere else together, so I knew he didn’t have any experience leading me around. So now he’s going to lead me around the woods with a gun and some beer. Frankly,it kind of scared the shit out of me that he would even suggest it, unless someone was going to pay him to have a convenient hunting accident?

So I wrote him a polite letter, saying this would be really stupid to be around anyone with guns and beer, since I was blind. I said I would love to go fishing with him some time. But even though he had several boasts and went fishing almost every other weekend, he never asked, either before or after.

So I started to wonder, was Randy hoping maybe there would be some kind of hunting accident where I walk in front of the gun? After all, we would be over there in Clatsop County, somewhere in the Coastal Mountain Range, with help hours away. Besides Clatsop County at the time was run by one of Oregon’s dirtiest persecutors, Josh Marquis, who would be very unlikely to prosecute Randy for accidently killing a sex offender who lied on his license. And maybe that’s why Kelly didn’t want to go, because she knew about them planning the accident

Marquis boasted on the radio of taking over this corrupt county, and bringing in law and order. He explained that the former-prosecutor, a woman, had fixed some tickets for her boyfriend. But the truth is, she had filed charges against two state police officers for distributing cocaine. When they came after her, she resigned and Marquis took over. All not surprisingly, the charges against the two cops were promptly dropped. And after the state “investigated” and found no wrong doing by law enforcement, no one questioned the Mighty State.

And one other time on Lard Larson’s show Marquis bragged about proposing a law that would go after ex-boyfriends or ex-husbands who call their ex-girlfriends or ex-wives to much. Surprisingly, Lard asked this sleazy opportunist, “What about ex-girlfriends or ex-wives who harass their ex-boyfriends or ex-husbands?” For the first time ever, Marquis had no snarky rebuttle.

Marquis first became infamous in Oregon for saying that he was going to charge a group of thirteen-year-old boys with a felony and make them all registered sex offenders, for slapping the bottoms of thirteen-year-old girls. Certainly it isn’t okay to do this, and perhaps suspensions were in order. But Marquis’ willingness to get involved in what was clearly a school matter shows his arrogance and willingness to abuse his power.

And this one time when Marquis told Lard that he wanted to “hock a luger” he showed his true colors and lack of professionalism as one of the worst persecutors in all of Oregon.

PART THREE:
So the next spring I decided to try and find a new caregiver so I posted an ad on Craigslist, “Looking for honest grower.” I don’t like to be censored and so I never use social media, so my options were limited.

If you can believe my good luck, through Craigslist I found a lovely young Hespanic lady named Lolita, although she may have been a cop. Actually it was her boyfriend, Nick, who responded to my ad. He said he was Canadian, so his girlfriend would be my grower on paper but he would be doing most of the actual work. He promised a couple ounces by August and the rest in late October or early November. And the best thing of all, it wouldn’t cost me a dime. I suppose I knew why.

I agreed and sent Nick the updated paperwork after I notified the state that I had changed grower’s. I also called Randy and told him what I was doing. He was brief, and said it wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, and hung up. And I never heard from him or Kelly ever again.

Just like Nick promised, I got a couple ounces in August, and the rest, a year supply, came in early November, a week before I mysteriously slipped on my front porch and broke my ankle.

For about a year after that, I hooked up with a lady friend I met through my caregiver, but it wasn’t that kind of caregiver. It’s confusing, but this was a traditional caregiver through the county, because of my multiple disabilities.

When I first applied for a caregiver through the county I was denied, because I wasn’t disabled enough. Then they called me to say there was a new pilot program that I would be eligible for. So within a couple weeks I had someone to help me out with shopping and paying my bills, and anything that helped me survive. It was long over do, and I have been grateful for this service.

PART FOUR:
My new case worker Marcus called and said that if I wanted a home care worker I would have to go through this company called Markey, but it really sucked. First, they hired the workers, so there was no way to screen out incompetent or unqualified workers.

also I wasn’t allowed to have the phone number of my worker, and they were required to block their number if they needed to call me. I suppose that made a little sense, when the worker switched every week.

Then I started getting the same worker named Amy. She kept coming over every week for over a year. Now this rule that I couldn’t have her number seemed really stupid. She agreed, and eventually she gave it to me.

Even though Amy was acquainted with one of my many blind adversaries, Gweneth van Frank Carlson, the blind peer mentor I mentioned in Chapter Four (who destroyed the infamous recording of the Deep State threatening to “destroy” my life). Apparently they both served on the committee for the Country Fair in Eugene. Despite this, things were pretty good between Amy and me, s far as I knew.

Although a year later, when I was expecting my new debit card and my ballot my mail disappeared, according to Amy, who always checked my mail when she arrived.

I was to learn that the Friday before the maintenance man asked the mail lady for my mail, and she gave him all of it, including my ballot! So this woman without my consent reached into my mailbox and gave him all of my mail, which is normally a crime. As though someone told him to do this, the maintenance man never brought the mail down to me. It appeared as though someone didn’t want me to vote. In the next chapter I’ll tell the reader more about the politically corrupt post office in Portland.

Then I found out that Debbie Sleeper, the property manager, lied and said she didn’t know anything about anything, even though she admitted later that she saw the mail lady giving Charles my mail the previous Friday.

And this wouldn’t have been a real big deal, Debbie not remembering, if Charles had brought my mail down to me.

Sometimes I would give Charles my mail key and he would come right back with the mail, then we would smoke a little. But this time for some strange reason he kept my mail in his home for ten days. And Based on a complaint I filed, on the tenth day a postal supervisor named Scot Hilton found all of my mail at Charles’ home, which he admitted taking. When he gave me the mail Hilton said, “That’s just Charles being Charles.”

This was also very strange, but a week after my mail disappeared so did Amy. She never came back. I was told by Markey she was no longer working with the company, and the rotating “workers” began again.

When they told me that Amy left the company I called her at home and asked her why? She told me it was because of all these ridiculous rules. As a result, I ended up having all sorts of strange people coming in and out of my home.

In fact, one time they sent a very large transgender man posing as a woman into my home, who called himself “Valerie.” Before leaving, he wanted to know if I would come over to his home and help him set up his water bed in his bedroom for $50 (and probably perform some other unspecified services).

“No thanks,,” I said, as I turned my head and gagged into my hand.

After complaining to my case worker, Marcus, about Markey, I was switched into another program in which I was able to choose my own caregiver from a list of qualified workers available online. While certainly it hasn’t been perfect, it was definitely an improvement since I was never propositioned again.

Suzy Hayes from Oregon City was one of the worst caregivers I ever had. But there’s been something odd about almost all of them. It seemed as though someone at the county or state itself was telling the workers to do sick, malicious things to me and my property.

I believe they were doing this to make me angry and frustrated, so I would look crazy to all of my neighbors. After all, I don’t pay for the home care service and just like lawyers and politicians, people usually only get what they pay for.

The first incident took place during Suzy’s first week. It involved finding my kitchen drain strainer once again in the trash can. This happened twice before with other caregivers. Once I found the strainer in the garbage just after another caregiver, Keyona, left my home. I noticed it was gone so I checked the garbage. And surprise, surprise, there it was….

And it disappeared another time, wile her grandmother Denise was working for me.

Since I know someone intentionally jammed up my gray tank several years ago, as I mentioned above, it almost appears as though someone wanted to make me appear careless by allowing food and other garbage to go down the drain.

Having my caregivers make my environment as unhealthy as possible seemed to be one of the deep State’s objectives, along with fucking up every computer, printer and almost every other electronic device in my home, including my talking clocks.

Given the nature of my coerced plea bargain, it was very strange that Suzy’s cell phone message sounded more like a fourteen-year-old horny girl flirting with the caller, rather then a 48 or fifty-eight-year-old woman.

And when I called Suzy at her home on her land line, her roommate, Kenny, said he never heard of anyone named Suzy. A few minutes later I called back and politely asked if he was Mark, the bus driver (Suzy’s “boyfriend”). He quickly said “no”, sounding nervous, and hung up the phone.

Suzy told me later that Kenny claimed he misunderstood me (twice) and she said “It was an honest mistake.” I didn’t think this was true, but I didn’t know why they would both lie to me.

Another time, shortly after Suzy brought in my groceries and left, I found a bag of sugar that had a two to three inch cut in the bag and the sugar had leaked out everywhere. When I took it out of the bag and set it on the counter, it definitely wasn’t leaking. So I checked the bag after she left and found that there was no sugar in the shopping bag it came in. I remember, she picked it up and confirmed it was a 4 lb. bag and not a 5 lb. bag, and then apparently used a key or something to cut the bag open and set it back on the counter.

I remember this because I joked about how corporate America is always cheating us with smaller and smaller bags or boxes, charging the same amount. She agreed and laughed. But I guess the joke was on me?

Another time, I believe one of my caregivers had punched a hole in a bottle of vegetable oil I had bought, and it leaked onto the bottom of the cabinet for weeks before I discovered it was leaking. It turned out to be a real mess and I suspect it drew lots of ants.

I had told Suzy when she picked up my shopping list earlier that day how my last caregiver, Keyona, had once used a knife in my sink to sliced open my kitchen hose when someone she claimed to be her “uncle Paul” had called me outside to examine my fence that curiously had also just been vandalized.

Once I hired this “recovering alcoholic” named Brian who was the brother of a lady friend. She said he desperately needed work. Interestingly, he was also the husband of a local bartender who worked at a local bar called Checkers. Curiously, in 2010, I was suspiciously run down while campaigning for medical cannabis dispensaries outside the same bar located on the same corner.

I had stepped outside for a moment to say sweet goodbye to my lady-friend, when Brian maliciously cut open a water line that ran along the floor. Luckily, I had already turned off the water or it would have been another real mess.

In addition, let me add one more fact about this ongoing vandalism. Apparently someone had been pouring dirt and maybe bugs into the outside wall to the north of my RV. When I pulled back the aluminum from under the sink, because of the strong smell of some dead animal, I discovered that my outside wall was packed with wet mud. For the record, I took a dozen pics of the dirt pouring out of the wall.

I suspect, just like the dirt put into my wall, both the leaking oil and bag of sugar, as well as the clogged drain, would draw lots and lots of bugs. And I think that was part of the plan, to poison my environment and make me as unhealthy as possible. It’s the way the Deep State attacks cannabis advocates, making them appear unclean and unhealthy people.

I suspect along with spraying or poisoning my environment, destroying my home seems to be one of the primary forms of torture being used against me, taking advantage of my blindness and vulnerability.

Around Christmas the Deep State had destroyed both of my talking computers so I had Suzy write a handwritten letter to the FBI Director, Christopher Ray, explaining this abuse from what I believed to be led by representatives of law enforcement and asked the FBI to investigate. Not surprisingly I never heard back from Mr. Ray, although in truth, I don’t know if Suzy ever mailed my desperate plea for help since she was one of the people abusing me.

However because of Twittergate, we now know how truly corrupt the FBI really is. And Tucker Carlson, we now know the CIA murdered President John Kennedy. So it’s unlikely that the Injustice Department or anyone else from the government will make them stop.

Before I ever met Suzy, I met a woman from Alabama I got to know by participating in a conference call for “targeted individuals”. She claimed her husband, Joe, was abusing her and we talked privately for awhile. Then she came for a three week visit and we got to know each other, but it didn’t work out.

While she was here, my caregiver at the time, curiously named Kasara, pronounced “Kazara”, had dumped all of my mail out into the parking lot. Apparently, my guest from Alabama found it on the ground when they were bringing in the groceries, and told me after Kasara left.

After my friend returned to Alabama, I discovered hundreds of food and candy wrappers everywhere in my RV, including places where they seemed to be hidden. A few weeks after her visit my RV began to fill with dozens of mice, and at least one rat I could hear chewing through my wooden floor at night! I took a picture of this one chewed piece of wood since I suspect no one would believe it.

Another time when Suzy brought my groceries I found a loaf of bread that had a five inch slice in it, similar to the bag of sugar. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice until after she left.

When I first interviewed Suzy for the job she said she was 58 and owned a home. Later she apparently forgot what she told me, and said she was 48 and living in her boyfriend’s home. Since I’ve had lots of problems with lots of the local bus drivers over accommodation issues, and her boyfriend Mark worked for the bus company, I eventually concluded she was also working with the local bus company, Tri-Met.

For example, the same lady-friend I mentioned above, who was helping me out around the house, said she was buying pills off a man named Terry. And Terry was married to a Tri-Met Max driver and my friend said Terry was getting a regular prescription for his back pain through his wife’s insurance.

Also, once, around this same time a Tri-Met driver called the Clackamas County Sheriff’s Department on me because I wouldn’t leave his bus. I boarded the bus with a heavily loaded backpack, a bag of groceries, and my white cane at the local Win-Co in Clackamas County.

He said he would not let me ride his bus because I had flipped him off earlier that day, after exiting the bus. This is true. I did this because he failed to lower the step and provide an accommodations the bus company claimed all of it’s drivers were providing to all blind riders with white canes. Except this wasn’t true since this driver had failed to provide this accommodation both when I boarded his bus and when I exited it. In fact, I flipped him off because I almost tripped because of the large drop off at this particular stop, across from Win-Co.

Just a few weeks earlier I had had a long discussion over this issue with a supervisor from Tri-Met. She explained that sometimes the noise frightened some guide dogs, so drivers are advised not to lower the step for people with guide dogs unless specifically requested. She also told me that some drivers were scolded by a few selfish blind people who were annoyed that drivers would automatically provide this accommodation to blind people with white canes without being prompted. But she agreed with me, all drivers should and would provide this accommodation when they can identify that a person is blind and carrying a white cane.

So I felt good about finally resolving this issue with Tri-Met, or so I thought.

Before the reader dismisses this concern Let me explain why I need this particular accommodation every time I ride the bus. When the step is lowered the bus also puts out a loud beeping noise. Unfortunately, the sound is probably too loud and I suspect it annoys most people, including I suspect some drivers.

However, because I am completely blind and have a significant hearing loss, it is especially helpful to hear the sound so I know where the bus is located. Otherwise two buses will pull up, one after the other, and I’ll never know that there was another bus behind the first until both buses pull away. Sometimes the driver will stop to see if I need that bus, but often they won’t.

I know this is true for a lot of people who ride the bus. I had reconstructive surgery in 2005 on my left knee, but the driver would never know by looking. So lowering the step keeps my knee safe.

So when this bus driver failed to lower the step, despite my white cane, I flipped him off after I exited the bus across from Win-Co. I was on the public sidewalk and had every right to do what I did.

So maybe Mark and Suzy, and Kenny (who sounded a lot like the driver who called the cops on me) are using the Multnomah County’s caregiver program to retaliate against me?

Ironically, it was a case from right here in Clackamas County, Oregon that set the precedence for establishing our First Amendment Right to flip off anybody, as long as it doesn’t violate their personal space or interfere with their ability to perform their job.

In this case a man was driving down the road and flipped off a sheriff deputy who was going the other way. The deputy turned around and pulled the man over, writing him a bogus ticket. Thankfully, he appealed the case all the way to the Supreme Court and we won the right to give anyone the finger, including cops or bus drivers, who probably deserve it more than anybody.

Then I discovered that the used CD player Suzy bought for me at Good Will didn’t work and there’s no refunds at Good Will. Suzy claimed she tested it when she bought it, as I requested, but obviously she didn’t.

When she left for the store I offered her a CD if she needed one, but she said she had one in her car. So she never tested the CD player, or destroyed it before she gave it to me.

I can’t actually prove Suzy did this, even if she admitted having a suitcase loaded with CDs and stealing from a blind person is so easy, but in 2020 I discovered that almost a hundred of my best CDs disappeared.

Then that same week Suzy bought me grapes with seeds from the grocery store. Since I haven’t gotten grapes with seeds for years and years, I didn’t know they still sold grapes with seeds, which really sucks. So why would she buy her blind client grapes with seeds, when she knows I would have to put the grape in my mouth to find the seeds. I don’t think it was an accident, just another way to piss me off.

She offered to pick up a food box at the Clackamas County Community Center which was located a few blocks away, where I once volunteered. I thought this was a good idea, since St. Vincent DePaul maliciously started putting empty peanut butter jars in the food boxes they delivered. However, after the second or third time I got a food box I noticed that a lot of the food was expired, rotten or appeared to be tampered with. So I told Suzy never go there for any food. Despite this, she kept bringing me food from that place, which I promptly threw away after she left.

But one of the worst things that Suzy ever did to me was to poison my pizza.

On a Tuesday in January I had Suzy pick up a cheese pizza from Poppa Murphy and get me some medicine from the place on 52nd Street. After eating the pizza that night I woke up to find I could barely talk and had difficulty forming any thoughts, as though I had had a stroke. Not only was this physical, but it was also effecting me mentally. I was unable to process any complex thought or action, and I was no longer able to play guitar. the lingering effects lasted for a couple years.

Curiously, I was scheduled to take a blood test the following day, around Eleven in the morning. The Phlebotomist said she agreed I appeared to have a speech impediment, but she didn’t know if it was normal. It’s not, as my many calls to KBOO’s “Voices From the Edge” proves. In addition, both my parents and brother, as well as my case worker, Marcus, definitely said they noticed a difference in my speech.

The Phlebotomist also said they were not looking for poison in this blood test, and no test that would have proved I was poisoned was ever done, because my regular doctor wasn’t available. So this ignorant substitute nurse from my Home Care service wasn’t alarmed by my inability to speak.

The test did show a big jump in my blood sugar, and some damage to my liver, so the pharmacist from Home Care put me on a diabetes medicine, even though I didn’t have diabetes.

In fact, I have never had a blood sugar that was so high which suggests that damage was done to my pancreas by some poison that I suspect was put on my pizza. A few years earlier I suspect the Deep State put something in my food or beverages to make me hallucinate for three or four days. That time the ignorant shrink from Adventist Hospital, who was obviously serving Big Pharma, put me on a strong anti-hallucinogenic called Halcion and told me to stop smoking cannabis, when I explained what happened.

About two or three weeks before apparently my pizza was poisoned, Suzy’s told me that her other client Robin died. She may have been lying about all of this, but Suzy said he was extremely over weight and very unhealthy. She often said she was very angry with him because he wouldn’t do what she wanted, especially just before he died. However, when he died she immediately blame the medical staff at the hospital, saying “He probably really pissed them off and they killed him!”

It seemed really strange, that she would use these exact words, “They killed him,” since she could have said his life style killed him and I would have never thought anything.

I know she can be an extremely violent person. When I tried to ask her to speak up and let me know where she was because she walks around all the time, she became angry and stormed out of here, breaking my gate when she left.

Another time she admitted to me that she got angry in front of her three grand kids, ages two to six, and threw the remote at the TV violently breaking the screen!

And even though she told me he knew Robin was on a very special diet while in the hospital’s ICU, she told me she took him two deluxe cheese burgers from McDonald’s and he died the very next day.

She said she had to sneak up the back stairs at the hospital to bring him this food, so no one would see her. This means she knew he wasn’t supposed to have any kind of unhealthy food that wasn’t on his diet, especially fast food.

That’s why I think Suzy Hayes also poisoned my pizza by putting something on it, like rat poison, since I got so sick. It took me several years before I began to feel somewhat normal. And I suspect my liver and pancreas never fully recovered from whatever she must have gave me. This strong reaction wouldn’t have happened if it were only to much carbohydrates in my blood. That’s why I strongly suspect she put some poison on both Robin and my food, since 80% of the time when people are murdered by poison the murderers are never caught.

And people from the northwest, especially Wiccans, are known for poisoning their victims. Mostly women from Clackamas County who poison men with potions and powders.

Given this, it raises questions about the death of a Portland Police Officer and maybe the only good cop in Portland. There are some unanswered questions in this case that would make any reasonable person suspicious and make us consider the possibility that she was murdered by the correction creeps from Clackamas County.

Only 1% of people that fall down stairs actually die, but this is what we were told by the police and the useless media. Here’s an article I wrote at the time that describes the facts in this case.

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DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF THE “SUICIDE” OF DANE REISTER’S, ANOTHER PPB OFFICER WHO ALLEGEDLY “JUMPED” IN FRONT OF A MOVING TRAIN AFTER SOME SAY HE “EMBARRASSED” THE DEPARTMENT?

Dateline: Portland, Oregon Last updated: April 26, 2017
Was Officer Davonna Dick’s “Accidental” Death Another “Brotherhood” Killing, with a New Twist?
( We’re Told once again, “There’s Nothing Suspicious Here, Just Move on”)
by DR Wolfe

It may only be another coincidence that Portland Police Officer Davonna Dick “accidentally” fell down a flight of stairs the same day Portland Chief of Police Mike Marshman returned to work, after being exonerated of any wrong doing. So call me a “conspiracy theorist” but consider this…

While Chief Marshman was formally cleared to return to work by Portland Mayor Ted Wheeler on April 12, 2017, he didn’t actual return to his desk duties until this past Monday, April 17th. And apparently, this is the same day that the once “disgraced” Portland Police Officer, Davonna Dick, had fallen down a flight of stairs in her North Portland home. Her fall is suspected to have caused her death, however, there has been no information released to explain why she fell. To date, the medical examiner’s report has not been completed.

After Dick’s body was found on Thursday, April 20th, Marshman sent out an E mail that said very little about her “accident” other than to claim “there were no suspicious circumstances”, even though the coincidence of his return to work on the same day she died is a little curious, isn’t it?

Last month, Chief Mike Marshman was suspended (with pay) based on two anonymous complaints. Perhaps, knowing that Officer Dick was not one of these complainants, and didn’t know one of the complainants, would be helpful. Otherwise, one might wonder if this wasn’t a message being sent to any cop, or anyone else, who might be thinking about filing an anonymous complaint (and becoming a whistleblower)-

We know the Internal Police Review (IPR), much like the United States Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court (FISA Court), is nothing more than a rubber stamp for the government. It’s apparently a big conference room with a table and a rubber stamp. You just go in and stamp your own papers…

Did you know, out of 10,000 requests, only once has the FISA Court out right refused a request for a surveillance warrant on a “suspect” (a.k.a. usually a “government whistleblower”). Similarly, the IPR doesn’t even bother to call victims when they spend the next four months pretending to investigate the questionable conduct of a Portland police officer, like Daniel Leonard [2011].

Despite that we know the useless IPR won’t ever honestly investigate anything, what makes the Dick death even more suspicious is that the department, who claims it’s officers are in constant fear of their lives (and may sometimes over react based on this perceived threat), did not bother to check on a missing officer for three whole days!

According to the Portland Police Bureau (PPB), Officer Dick had a reputation of being reliable and dependable, yet for three days she didn’t call in or show up for work? Wouldn’t you think her supervising officer would have thought to send a patrol car by the home of a missing patrol officer just to make sure she wasn’t a victim of foul play. Especially since the “bought and paid” politicians and the media tells us every day that the police are allegedly being targeted by every “crazy” out there!

Is it strange we live in a community where a fast food employee would face more scrutiny from their supervisor for being late for work than a police officer? Is this normal that the department doesn’t prioritize any missing cop? No wonder there’s a staffing shortage.

Even a phone call from the duty sergeant that went something like, “Hey Davonna, it’s me, the Sergeant, checking in with you. Just let me know your okay. This isn’t like you. I’m going to send a car bye to check things out if I don’t hear from you in the next fifteen minutes. We cops just want to take care of our own, and this just isn’t like you, to not call in or anything. So call me right away?”

But no call like this went out the first day she didn’t show up or call in sick. And no call like this ever went out the second day she didn’t show up for work and didn’t call in…

So, after three days the PPB decided to go bye her home and break down her door. And surprise, surprise, they find her dead at the bottom of her stairs.

Was it an accident or murder? Just because the door was locked doesn’t prove she was the last person to lock it, does it? Did she have a car parked outside, which would have indicated she was home? And if she was home, why wouldn’t she open the door? Or did anybody bother to check when this cop disappeared?

Maybe the murderer or assassin broke in and waited for her to return home. On the other hand, the murderers didn’t need to go into Officer Dick’s home to cause her to fall down the stairs.

First, Infrared cameras make it possible for someone to monitor a person’s every movement from a nearby location. For example, the book “Supermog” describes how a private investigator was able to use Infrared in 1955 to watch a U.S. Senator having sex with an underaged girl from the room next store. That was sixty years ago?

And second, under the TETRA System the government’s been using microwave weapons to experiment with mind control on police and military personnel (as well as children, the disabled, political prisoners and dissenters).

Under one of these programs, The Pandora Project began receiving funding in the late ’60’s and early ’70’s from the CIA.

Dr Ross Adey, the chief researcher on the Pandora Project, has released a video to leading UK researchers which proves that not only does the TETRA system cause “ELF zombification” by massive release of calcium ions in the cerebral cortex and the nervous system, but the activated calcium ions also cause massive hormonal disturbances which lead to frenzied imbalances.

This weapon could cause someone like Darlene Miles or Davonna Dick to fall down a flight of stairs, and appear to any investigator as though it were an accident.

Adey said, “Eventually, use of the TETRA system by the police will lead to psychotronicaly controlled officers who may be totally controlled in any situation and are very useful for states of economic or social chaos where extreme and violent behavior is needed without any conscious or moral compunction-” [2001]
http://www.whale.to/b/rifat7.html

But since some people actually do fall down stairs and die, we’re supposed to automatically believe “there’s nothing suspicious here”? Like we’re supposed to believe the chemical weapons used against the Syrian people in 2013 came from the Syrian Army and not from the Israelis or the Saudi funded rebels.

Except, some people won’t forget that Davonna Dick cost Clakckamas County and its Corrections Department (an agency riddled in corruption), and the city of Portland over nine million dollars because of the Cayla Wilson settlement.

[Note: Officer Dick was blamed by many for not arresting Jack Whiteaker after he was accused of driving with a suspended license and looking in to a woman’s window. However, police did not witness either event, and there was no indication in his record that Whiteaker had violated the terms of his probation, although obviously he had. According to Dick, Whiteaker appeared to be mentally disabled. And because of the DOJ Consent Decree based on the brutal 2006 murder of James Chasse by Chris Humphreys and Sergeant Kyle Nice, she gave Whiteaker a brake and let him go home. Unfortunately, Whiteaker did not go home and a few hours later drove a car into a car driven by Kayla Wilson, who was pregnant at the time with her daughter, JaiKyla Wilson. Both Wilson’s were severely injured, and most Clackamas County cops and correction officers blamed Davonna Dick for this tragedy.]

And maybe that’s why the Oregonian used a picture of the police building instead of an actual pic of Davonna, when describing her “suspicious” death. As a patrol officer, one would think there would be many from the community who would only recognize Davonna Dick by her face, and who may want to honor her service to the community (and who might question the circumstances surrounding her death). It seems even more curious that the “Oregoonian” would use a picture of a building instead of Officer Dick, if not down right disrespectful!

And Chief Marshman says “there’s nothing suspicious here”? Really? Ever heard of the “Brotherhood of the Strong”?

Are they back? The same usual suspects, perhaps under a different name or title? Or did they never really go anywhere?