You can only imagine what life is like when Lori LaFond has nobody but herself to blame and the investigation uncovers all kinds of her dirty little secrets. Yeah, I know, it was to be expected, but this girl could complain every single minute of every single day for the rest of her pitiful life and still thinks she's normal. Could anyone be that negative? YES! Lori LaFond is that person. Unfortunately, like I said, it was to be expected.
If you know Lori like I do, then you understand that when she says, "I'm going to torture him (me), to the very last second," she really means it. Let's face it, she didn't spend all this time and effort to make my life a living Hell, just so that she could be stopped by her own tragic trophy case. It doesn't matter how many salacious pictures and videos she has with her rape victims, I'm the only closest target for her to hurt, outside of her sister and mom. I've gone through so much that now when I hear her bitching and moaning, it sounds like a rooster crowing at the dawn of every day. I'm sure some of you know what I mean.
For the first twenty years of this cyberstalking, it was all about Lori and her brother finding people to stalk me. They would run around the apartment complexes where I lived in Riverside, Redlands, or Colton, while I was in school and all of a sudden the residents would look at me like I'd suddenly come down with the coronavirus or ebola. Of course, I still had friends in the area so I could always visit with them, but as soon as I would get in my car to drive home, it was like the F.B.I., the D.E.A., and the local police had some kind of vigilante group following me. It made for some very tense situations driving down the freeway or in my own neighborhood.
Once I experience the same thing in San Diego, for ten or so years, Lori began the "talking" portion of this crime of harassment and torture. Day and night, night and day, over and over, she and her brother would never stop talking to me. It's kind of like the Chinese water torture with sleep deprivation. When you see my first mug shot in Palm Springs, you should note that I'm not using drugs or anything, but what you see is someone who was raped, a tooth knocked out, and exhausted from years of Junior and Lori talking on crystal meth all night long. It's one of the aspects of crystal meth addicts that I can't stand the most...constant tweaker talking.
The first mug shot, I should remind you, is about one month after my skull was smashed from the rape without any hospital admitting me for treatment. No pain medication. Nothing. I have been kept up for days and my friend was dying in the hospital. Nothing but sleep and ice on my skull. Then I was arrested right after reporting the rape. Twice. Two times the day after I reported the rape like Bryan Anderson told me to do. It was awful. So when you see it, laugh, but realize that I am in a tremendous amount of pain and exhausted. Probably didn't mix for the best decision making. Also remember that I was tested for drugs, negative. I had no charges pressed against me but still was kept in jail overnight. Then I got arrested for "burglary" when I was trying to pick up the mail for my sick friend in the hospital. I also had permission from the homeowner to be on the property. Lori got involved and that's my big crime.
I should never have been in that position, all triggered by Lori raping and beating me, denying me admission to the hospital twice, then reporting the rape that she was involved in on the advice of Bryan Anderson, who Lori cites as her "four-year boyfriend" in that bogus restraining order.
Lately Lori has tried to send messages from my owner to my manager about me having more work to do at night. It's one of those things that she thinks she can use to cause problems for me at work. I'm a great worker. I do all the stuff necessary to keep my owners happy. Lori likes to pretend that she can tell me what to do using number portability and text messaging from one person to another. Just like the City of La Quinta restraining order, she's pretending to be someone she isn't.
