Notary Fraud

   
   "Notary Fraud"
    
   My mother, born of, more or less, a Serbian immigrant, him--son of Dragan Radulovic, was investigated by the FBI for two weeks, locked in a basement at the Rand Corporation, where she could only read magazines; moreover--she is Rh negative, like me, and became a Head Secretary to the Vice President, meeting all the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  
   She never gave up her oath.  Not even when my Grandma pestered her about crafts in the sky.  And I witnessed that she was a devout Catholic, read paranormal books, and watched those types of movies.  When I was a young adolescent, suffering from night terrors and sleep paralysis; plus, insomnia, I told her those books were bullshit--she said:  "Wait till they come into your room at night."  And they have been, since I was stillborn and have been on my deathbed numerous times, poisoned by gregariously Satanic girls during my adolescence, and they put sugar in the gas tanks of the blondes I liked--there is more, but I must make haste, though Alexander Pope mentioned:  "Don't be swift, but wise."
   My Mom is a true patriot.  Red, white, and blue!!!  Never missed a Mass or a Vote.  But easily manipulated.  They misdiagnosed her, on purpose, in my opinion, with Alzheimer's Stage 4 almost six years ago, and she still talks to me everyday, though nobody else in the family has said more than a few mere words to her, or showered, bathed, brushed, washed, nurtured, loved, fed, or gotten the Eucharist for her, save me.
   Put on Haldol--five a day; plus, five Xanax a day, and Haldol kills people will Lewy Body Disease (Dementia), she was taken to a Notary, carried in by me; next, I was told to stand outside, while she, under the influence of disease, anti-psychotics, and narcotics, signed numerous Notary Documents, which is Notary Fraud.  Two attorneys and a Bush League Cop in Alabama know about this.  When I was four years old, this cop used to knock me down by throwing pillows at me, swing me by the feet, and torture me with a scary mask, while I was urinating blood, under surgery, couldn't vocally speak, and had been incubated for weeks previously.  There is no statute of limitations on child abuse.
   He too, almost drove my mother to suicide.  She had to get on benzos to deal with his pride, arrogance, and false testimony against her.  A real man, who cried when his big, arrogant mouth had three guys chase him home, and he was woefully weeping for his Daddy, the patriarch, sitting on the toilet and evacuating his big ass bowels--what a life I've lived, and I love it, almost having died numerous times, and if you're Rh negative--it takes them many hours to find your blood for a transfusion.
   But I don't care.  I'm pissed like Joan of Arc, humbled like Christ, and don't want to be understood like Saint Francis' prayer.  
   They teach you to lie in Law School, especially if it is a Bush League Law School.  I don't care Saint Peter, for I will persevere to the end.  And thanks to my Serbian Pap and all my Russian, French, and other European readers, putting me in the tens of thousands, which means myriads of readers.  
As the criminally insane Ezra did ode:
There died a myriad,
And of the best among them--
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization. 
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God Bless America, and let Her be True again . . .