Morally Conscious

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Today's theme:
I feel icky today. It's the kind of feeling I get when I've spent too much time thinking something is going to work without me doing it myself. I do not like what is transpiring with Lori and her 5 friends in that shooting gallery of a home that they live in. There is an overwhelming feeling of depression and loneliness. Lori always thinks that means that I'm about to use drugs, I'm obviously not. There is a really big part of me that needs to know something is going on besides my efforts. You all may know better, but I do not and I'm tired of this bitch constantly acting superior to everyone else. This is not how you handle an investigation...I don't know how else to tell these people. You don't sacrifice one person for any amount of other people. Start playing like a team've got to do better.

Visit "Save Our Sons" for more information about tis crime. This is a non violent informational blog about the crime of electronic harassment in Palm Springs, California. The blog, in no way, intends to promote a crime against anyone. It's intent now, as always, is to become the property of DreamWorks Entertainment as a motion picture project for them. Do not commit any crimes because of this blog.
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Friday, March 3, 2017

The Ripple Effect Of Hate Crimes: Why Stealing Money From My Family Has To Do With Covering Up My Rape

Hate crimes seem to have a ripple effect when it comes to the way the Triad of Pussy does the things that they do.  After all, in their credo, "men are so stupid", all they really have to do is, well, find a stupid man, to help them.  In Jeffrey Katzenberg and his pal David the Dick, they found a gold mine.  In the two of them they hit the mother load of stupid and boy did the girls go to town on their egos.  Missy Pissy, Betsy Wetsy and Laurie LaTuna (aka Laurie LaTweeker) needed some "stupid men" to work on their already questionable circumstances following their involvement with electronic harassment following the hate crime that was my sexual assault.

At one point the roles in this crime involving these three were this.  Allegedly, the trio had been keeping their eyes and ears on me for many years.  Illegal surveillance of me and my family and my life.  When I moved to Palm Springs and was the boyfriend of Missy Pissy and Laurie's drug dealer, Steven Frey, Missy and Laurie decided it would be fun to start playing around with my life.   At one point Laurie's brother and Laurie with Missy Pissy's help, got way too involved with fucking with me and I sought the help of my parents and they took me to Bryan Anderson's home.  He was a Sgt. with the PSPD and I questioned him about Steven Frey.  At that point he asked if I would be a confidential informant and brought up Laurie's real name.  It was at that time that I realized the voice in my head was that of Laurie from high school.  He acted friendly towards her in front of my parents.  I didn't buy the story he told me, but I knew she was listening in.  I told him no to the informant work but that I would think about it.

Allegedly, it was at that point that Missy Pissy told Laurie that she should "have a little talk with me and Steven" which Laurie took to mean, a violent confrontation.   So in the next few weeks, Laurie stored up her blood in the refrigerator in a bowl, kept it cold, and set up some guy that needed a trip to the Ontario airport.  I was suppose to give him a ride, but since I didn't know him, I asked Steven to give him a ride instead.  Bad idea.   I went to sleep with my clothes on, but the next day I woke up naked.  I pulled on my jeans commando and immediately started bleeding from my rear end.  The blood was weird though.  Brownish in color and coagulated...not fresh or reddish.  I remember it seeming odd, but still blood none the less.  LOTS of it too...all over down almost to the cuffs of my jeans on both sides of my pants, is what I remember ten years later.  It really scared me.

I took the jeans off.  My jewelry was all missing.  My gold bracelet my dad made for me was gone, my necklace was gone.  Then I remembered I went to sleep with my clothes on.  I always do.  I woke up naked.  It was noon or one o'clock.  I never sleep that late.  I hadn't been using drugs in a long time.  This was odd too.  Steven wasn't home from the airport yet either.  I can remember thinking what in the Hell happened last night.  I had no memory.  Not a thing.

I put some shorts on and Steven walked in.  I showed him the jeans and asked him about what had happened and he said he didn't know.  I could tell he looked scared.  I didn't really believe him because he'd been the only person there.  I was mad and confused and went home.  I put the jeans in a paper bag when I got home.  Took a shower and threw on some underwear and more shorts, not wanting to bleed on more clothes and tried to sleep more, when I woke up, my underwear were bloody again.  This time the blood was bright red and fresh.  I threw those in the paper bag too.  I feel back to sleep.

By the next day my head was on fire and I went to Steven's house.  My head got worse and worse.  It felt like it was going to explode and I couldn't hear out of my right ear for some reason.  I was almost deaf.  Overnight my hearing was almost completely gone.  My headache was all over my head but it was sore to touch too.  Like I'd run into a brick wall or something.  I made Steven take me to the emergency room.  I kept thinking that I'd fallen in the night or something and that I'd had amnesia or something.  They gave me an MRI, but there was no result.  I couldn't believe it because my head hurt so badly.

Two days later my head was way worse.  It was like someone had taken a chainsaw to it and cut it in half.  I couldn't put an icebag on it because the points of the ice cube pierced the skin like pencil points on fire scars and the inside of my head felt like a five star migraine with hot coals.  So I took myself back to the emergency room and took the bloody clothing and this time I was ready to report the rape.  No doubt someone had beaten me in my sleep and I was raped.  You know what it feels like after a few days.  The bleeding was bad and the head injuries were bad, but Laurie and Brian were on the microphone telling me that Steven and Peter had raped me in the night.  They wouldn't stop bragging about it. Over and over again.    Brian would pretend to be "Peter" and Laurie pretended to be "Sheree Frey", Steven's sister.  This time the hospital called the police for the rape and they took me in for an MRI.  Once again they told me there was no result and I was pissed off.  MY head was on fire!  I knew there was something very very wrong but they wouldn't admit me.  I told them over and over again, but they acted like nothing was the matter with me.  They showed me an xray instead of an MRI and I kept telling them that my head was exploding.  No police officer ever came!

My sister and her boyfriend came and I showed her the bloody clothing that I wanted to give to the cops that night.  I don't remember even calling her.  She was there though.

Come to find out, allegedly, that both Missy Pissy called the E.R. and had the MRI results fucked with and you can see them on the screen to the right if you click on them.  My head was completely bashed in.  Multiple compound fractures on my skull from the beating I took that night can be seen.   She called twice on both nights after the rape so that I could never be seen by the doctors.  I literally had to heal my injuries with ice at home.  Very dangerous and still a problem to this day.  I am still suffering from this head wound...and probably always will.  I no longer have disability insurance.  Missy Pissy allegedly picked up copies of the MRI's and took them home to where she lived and Laurie got them from her.  HIIPA violations to say the least.  For her part, Laurie called off the police officer that was to visit the E.R. to take the rape report.  I never was allowed to see a district attorney ever.  They never let me see or speak to one ever.  Det. Browning never let me speak to one and told me that if there wasn't any DNA evidence I would "never be allowed to speak to a district attorney" after eight long months they finally submitted my clothing for testing.  It took years for the results to come back.

Without the hospital confirming anything was wrong and years of DNA testing ahead, Missy Pissy, Laurie and Betsy Wetsy with Brian could fuck with me and Christopher.  And fuck with me they did.  They fucked with me in Hesperia.  They fucked with Bill Postmus the San Bernardino County Assessor while I lived with his best friend.  Then they found out the test results came back and something happened.  Laurie and Brian got caught with my pants down.  The results showed something that Laurie didn't like.  I went in to the PSPD headquarters and saw the DNA report that was six pages long at the request of Bryan Reyes, now the Chief of Police.  It was long, it had results and it was clear that there were suspects.  I was elated.  He told me that I was "right on the money" and that "we're gonna get these guys" right in front of Anthony Dabiere.  I was thrilled!!!

Anthony and I were elated.

Months later I would receive a much different call that angered me from the same guy.  He said that another report came in that said there was NO DNA on the clothing and that there was "nothing more that this department could do for me" and I was baffled.  It was a complete 180 degreee turn around.   I knew this was fucking crazy.  It was then that I knew that Laurie and Brian were about to go on the rampage.  She screamed, "I can't believe we got away with everything!"

A few weeks later we went to Sedona, Arizona, and Laurie, Brian, Missy Pissy, Marilyn Katzenberg and Benjamin Katzenberg followed us.   I invited Marilyn and Benjamin thinking that they were working with me, but Missy Pissy was obviously there to help out Laurie.  The whole thing was a fiasco.  Anthony, Jonathan and I were in constant danger.  What were later learned was that Laurie said that "They're going, but they aren't coming back."  Stalking us to Arizona is a federal crime.  Marilyn and Benjamin did nothing for us.  They did nothing to protect us.  We were sitting ducks.  Easy targets for murder.  Missy Pissy was there and all we could do was get out of there barely alive.

That was one of the last times I saw Anthony Dabiere and Jonathan.  I would see Jonathan once more and Anthony once more...and that was it.  I haven't seen Anthony or Jonathan again.  Jonathan has since passed away on December 25, 2010 according to online obituaries and a letter from his father and stepmother including pictures and a death notice from his family.  Anthony allegedly has moved to Los Angeles and I haven't heard from him since.

I haven't heard from Christopher in almost eight or nine years.  Not a phone call, email, postcard, letter, fax, Skype or any communication.  The last communication from his family was a letter from someone named "Dave" telling me to fuck off.

I haven't heard from my police contact in years and years.  He apparently doesn't work there any longer.  He completely abandoned Christopher and me after letting Laurie run all over our families.  He never did do anything but lie to my mom and dad about his relationship with her.  I sincerely doubt that the two of them were the kinds of friends that he said that they were in high school. I know him way better than that.  He should know better than to tell those kinds of stories in front of me.  I'm way more observant than he remembers.

So now I'm here in the middle of the desert with all of this information that I've worked on.  Laurie, Brian, Missy Pissy, Betsy Wetsy, Jeffrey, Marilyn, Benjamin and all of the leftovers from the people that helped cover up the rape that nobody wanted to know about.  Every once in a while an issue will come up, like my health insurance and Jeffrey has to rear his ugly head again.  So the people that help him have to get together and figure out how to fuck my family again.  This last time was a real classic.  Betsy Wetsy, my sister's friend, decided she would rekindle her friendship with my sister and introduce her boyfriend, Dave and Missy Pissy, to her.  How wonderful.  They would scam, MY BANK ACCOUNT, out of MY BANK, acting like Laurie was going to steal it.  So they told her it would be safer in her account, but before she did it, she was headed off by Betsy Wetsy by Jeffrey, who interceded and said "Don't put it there, it's just another account that Laurie will steal from, I'll keep it safe for you and you can get it from me whenever, but if Kevin asks about it, tell him it doesn't exist.  He can't get any money from it, but you can>"  This was his attempt to take all of my money.

The first thing he did?  Bought Missy Pissy a car with it!  A brand new car with my hard earned money, in cash that I worked for for five and a half years overnight at a hotel.  Missy couldn't wait to steal it and piss all over the seats...right at Christmas time.  I, on the other hand, didn't have a Christmas.  I didn't have any money for the next three months... still don't.  Still don't have a penny to my name.  I don't have health insurance either or HIV meds now.  Jeffrey took all those too.  Missy Pissy has them.  So does Betsy Wetsy.  Jeffrey has decided that I needed to learn a lesson about being poor.  So now, he's helping me learn how to get AIDS.

He's teaching me how the virus grows inside of me when I don't take the meds that I've been taking for nearly twelve years faithfully.  He's really a great teacher.  He's not letting me have any kind of appointments for my skull or my disability either which continues to allow Missy Pissy and Laurie to get away with the rape.  Now that Betsy Wetsy got the money for Jeffrey, she too is involved in the attempted murder and rape cover up.  This is the ripple effect of a hate crime.  Now they've all involved my sister and Bryan Anderson too.  I told them I wanted my money back, but they just didn't want to give it to me.

I wonder how the Screen Actor's Guild feels about this kind of activity Jeffrey?

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