I'll tell ya, I've been calling my mom every day since the Guthrie kidnapping. Can you blame me?
My sister married a man with a conviction for kidnapping for ransom. He did over three decades in the can for it.
But hey, welcome home, merry Christmas, happy New Year, and all that, you despicable piece of shit.
Unbelievable.
I tried to be kind and gracious to this swine, and he repaid me with treachery. I never asked for this psychopath to be inducted into the family; he just showed up and started issuing orders like he was still in the pen. Before you knew it, he had my own mother telling me to get fucked. No kidding.
That's why I flew the coup, to hell with all of them.
This prick had some sob story about being illegally convicted and sentenced as a juvenile, neglecting to mention all the sick shit he did from the inside while he was in there. Finally, his own gang tried to kill him, and he snitched out.
The cops were so pleased with his performance that he gained his freedom and aligned himself with a different criminal organization from the Bay Area. I suspect his informing continued after he was released, but he never snitched on himself or his associates or the dope they were moving.
I'm pretty sure he was using heroin again and working on routes to smuggle dope back into the pen via drones. I've got receipts.
I also know the smell of burning heroin, and one evening, my nephew asked me what that weird smell was. I knew what it was, but told the kid it was something else. I didn't have much of a choice but to stay there at that point while I was trying to recover from surgery. According to his lame ass parole agent, the cocksucker wasn't even supposed to be in the county, ever. Much less running a suspected dope trafficking ring with the assistance of my model citizen sister.
But it was totally implausible that somebody tried to poison me, then lied to the cops and told them I was holding my own daughter hostage, etc., etc., and so on.
I'm a loose cannon; I made the whole thing up.
They never had a problem making me take the stand before, so why not believe me this time? I was even forced to sit on jury duty after this entire ordeal was behind me. I told one of the jury people over the phone that I was homeless, and it was putting a huge strain on me to go back to Bakersfield for jury duty. She said that's tough luck, but if you don't show up, you'll be subject to a bench warrant. Typically, that statement is gonna be total bullshit, but you've got to remember how much they hate me, after all, it is Kern County.
After the week of abuse I endured under a plethora of false accusations, which caused me to lose it all, the next logical step these evil motherfuckers were gonna take was having a warrant issued for failure to appear. I'm not kidding, and I have receipts. Call me a liar all you want, but it can be proven. I have the man's name; it all ties back to him, and he had a friendly relationship with the angry party planner. He had a personal vendetta against my brother, and he threatened me on multiple occasions that if I didn't go along with their whole trip, he'd ruin my life. Well, here we are.
So, I had them coming at me from all angles; they were so far up my ass I could taste hair gel. All while I'm going through a divorce and working 7 days a week. I never asked for sympathy about any of it, but I deserve some modicum of justice that is never coming. That's why I keep going off in the blog posts.
Ed Humes wrote a book, Mean Justice, which was dismissed as liberal pap, but the same people are still in charge right now because nothing ever changes. People get crushed by these villains, and you just have to sit there and take it. If you do say something, plan on getting hit so hard you reconsider your options. I'm done reconsidering.
Have a nice day.
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