Years and years later, watching what was a seeming "real" interview with one of the first celebrities of this H-wood rat pack of celebrity "A-list" expletives--(really the very first one, back in 2013). Interview with letter-woman-hater-bigot out of Indiana cock rock dude, abhorrent to me: the seemingly charming womanizing rapist beater hater racist interviewed by Letter-not-man but boy cock rock idol interviewer---turned me off so completely to this man I was almost elated when he retired from the everyday onslaught of rape boy culture insult hate "funny" late night tv crap
Looking up music I want to download on YouTube (avoiding closelly looking at who or what has been hacked onto the front page) as I have to refresh what hackers deleted from all my old files (glad, because much was hacked music mind programming musick stuff).
Saw this interview of Waits in his latter years (a few years ago) croaking and cranking out singing like a delapidated run-down old Chevy, rusted and exorbitant celebrity support from the likes of Letter-not-man boy rapist icon---
***hackers have already begun to rewrite words and alter. I had to retype again and I am so loathe to continuously have to reedit and rewrite and publish and then open up the page and rewrite, as happens every time. The sick creeps hackin in are so filthy and foul, I can't describe the insidious character of these dirty foul f-ers and their celebrity icons who order these attacks for their continuiing theft of ideas because they truly are blank, hateful empty moronic idiots promoted for their racist conformity into these Nazi power structures.****
And to put this at an end, I discovered Nora Jones. This is a bit boring for my taste, but then again, it's not Tom Waits. I am not sure i want to do a more thorough search to see how much of a sell-out this woman had to be in order to gain this position of prominance. This is the kind of music you might hear at a Starbucks, the music I have heard and turnedoff or got turned off immediately by
however, I think I'm not ginog to put her music on this entry because as I keep listening I am itching to stop typing and change the channel.
Tom Waits in his early years, before the likes of Letterman influenced his approval for celebrity good old boy hypocritical posturing grungy Whisky bar rape culture white boy crooning with prostituted females sauntering down the aisle waiting for the inevitable divorce procedings.
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THIS ALBUM IS MORE LIKE IT--the it I was itching for, an album I have heard and forgotten about for years. This is Waits, born in Cali, assimilating with the cocaine cowboy Whiskey Bar boy-rape drunken culture singing about womanizing, whoring, taking lines in Los Angeles. What a good old boy, but what great singing and muse-ick. Hiis voice is still within the range of artistic temperment and not retired to absolutely rusted out and corrupted.
Hollywhorewood and Vine, the crossing roads where whores meet celebrities.
Trending towards a more down, down low and lowdown sound. Into his more mature forays into mainstream Hollywhorewood culture and celebrity status. More interviews throughout the years on Letter-not-man boy rape late night drunken dude tv show years of interviews with that hate personality out of Indiana. I can't express the ugly look on his face simply because I raised my hand and laughed as he looked at my Illinois t-shirt. A joke, creep, it was a joke. This is the attitude the celebrities have of me. I have an attitude that they should be ousted froom their clay pedestals and thrown asunder and replaced by real artists who are not rusted personalities looking for the next whore deal Uptown but pretending they are real down low Downtown advocates for every "real" fight against Big Daddy Brother who turns them into rusted craggy whores on the Vine of Hollywood obscene intoxication.
**Now I do feel the effect of technology smothering my brain and turning it into a compressed dizzy roller coaster ride of incapability to write or type.
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I would go into more detail about the sickening disgusting attacks I have had to fight against this morning, which in a sense has been the impetus of such a bitter attack upon the probably very innocent Mr. Tom Waits (innocent of participating in the stalking. Wait until I open my YouTube channel and he appears in video after video, then teleports me with his good buddies and their Saturday Night dyed blonde dates their granddaughters' ages). Could be,might not be.
This group, and I have read this on stalking blogs years ago, want the targets completely obsessed with the staslking and endlessly fighting in vain to get any help from outside sources. Every single stalking goroup is co-opted, like all I do that these posturing p-a'sall steal from my writing and then block my ability to type and think and get any creative concepts out for my own profit
the mechanical arms got through some other sourcedof paneling in my tiny studio (now it's years of fighting agaist this in this one tiny studio, harming my body so badly by pounding screws and hooks into plastic cabinets interior, on all sides and in the middle of th epanels, layingin bed in near agony as parts of my body are literally being riped out in the process due to the hard poisons that have latched onto every viscerae and muscular structure) and still the mechanical arms got in my room last night. Another object is red under my left middle finger, inserted under the cuticle. Over 7 years of this attack on my fingers every single night. My hair is somehow not greasy and stinking, maybe the last attempt yeasterday to pound and screw in a few more hooks and tie with all my body strength rope and pvc string into the hooks to try to close all gaps in eveyr crack, as the cracks are abundant everywhere. The cabinets do not close property, maladjusted so there are openings at the tops and bottoms of these plastic-coated cheep horrible ugly cabinet doors which extend to the ceiling, so pressure makes openings as welell even if the corners and tops are secured with hooks.
I do not want to obsess with this, but I was teleproted to more stupid sick skit scenes concocted by these psychopath celebrities and politicians. Their imaginations are so ugly I truly understand why they are attacking me and drugging and poisoning me so they can steal ideas about justice. They have none, ugly to the marrow and disgusting in every crack of their rotten souls, eeking out poison into the hearts and minds of the universal media machine of brainwashed conformity to their meek intellectual mediocrity.
So I must do more today, every single day. It is hard not to obsess. the outside of my room is an empty space of all animals, birds and flowers destroyed by this group. Zero animals or birds are on the hillside outside my window. They are being shot and killed by these apes who order these attacks on me. I have had to live next to decrepit ugly nasty old men and theiir rotten ugly nasty females of all ages who orderr these attacks, here in gorgeous Thailand my omes and studios have all been dessecrated of all beautiful nature and polluted continuously by this stinking and foul group y ou all cheer on as celebrity heroes and Europ- symbols of "taste and style and fashion and 'class'"so dirty and foul and tasteless and dirty and stupid and all their "fashion" has been stolen I truly believe they can't create a single idea. All is stolen and they are supiud posturing apes. I wonder how much of this Tom Waots and Nora Jones have imbibed so they can be famous for their careers.
Descending into Starbucks culture easy-listening celebrity status! Letter-not-man interviews and croaking either too soft and slippery vocals like Nora Joones or a degenerate croaking obscenity aural old man whore song set.
And, my brain under attack as I have to try to backspace to correct. I will not re-read this post and always the hackers delete words and rewrite so it's almost nonsensical. Ugly rotten old men you all love singing the dirty old man's ditties but sung by youthful appearance pop culture Starbucks celebrities.
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Their (the above-mentioned) disgusting psychic stench sprayed on my hair brush, so it is a rancid odor and when I douse the brush handle with bleach and put it ouside to eat away at the fungus stench, the stalkers use mechanical arms to spray more of it on the patio while I go for a few seconds into the tiny bathroom, which stinks from stalkers inserting arms throgh the tile cracks and putting stinking fluids on the floor at night so when I open the door in themorning I must carry a stick of incense just to try to breathe first thing in the morning. The main room is perpetually violated by these mechanical arms after years of gluing paper on every panel, silicone on every crack, and hooks on every corner and that is not enough. There are hard wooden panels placed behind the vfery flimsy panel exteriors that I can touch in this room, but from the other side of the walls these wooden planks are put, with latches (I have heard the latches opening and closing at night when I am asleep and wake up from the noise--I can wake up from noise the stalkers are extremely quiet when they enter my room). It's anear impossibility to stop these attacks despite layers of paper glued to the panels, silicone glued to the edges of every panel on every side of all walls and floors, and now metal hooks pounded into the plastic exteriors of the cabineets (except for three on top of my "kitchen" area row of cabinets which I need all day to get plates and food) and, they get through all the hooks covering every panel and I cna't use three drawers because the panels are so far back behind the drawer fronts in these cabinets and the panels are so flimsy on the other side I can bend them by lightly pressing against them. These mechanical arms are inserted through the very plyable superficial coverings which the stalkers get through with their hard wooden panels from their side of the wall. If I have expressed this articularely, it's so hard to write so hard to think. I feel sick from the brain attaacks as I write.)
I had not intended to write more about these sickopsychopaths but it's another day of this stinking mess sprayed on my body, room, clothing, hairbrush, myu hair nearly balding in places, my body covered in bruises and black and blue marks and insertions underneath the skin, and tec
drugged up so I "rant" while I wrie about this hysterical-inducing endless series of attacks which I keep writing about to the psychos of Whorewood, California so they can steal ideas and get promoted by this sick attack attack system they all laugh about and participate in. The "normal" people who assist them are revolting over-fed parasites who feed off human suffering and misery that so many of you in the Black Lives Matter are now protesting.
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