Sunday, November 6, 2011

3 Leaf Clover At Irish Poisoning Pub: Fado's

. I think I found it.

The Irish Pub. It's 3 blocks away from the Seattle FBI offices and I hadn't even known it.

The Irish Pub is symbolized with a 3 leaf clover motif. This is the place where I was poisoned, and the place next door is now a furniture store called "Partners in Time". Chris Dabney referred to himself and Nikki as "Partners in Crime" and then I see something like this at a place where I was tortured.

It is just blocks away from Virginia Mason hospital, where I staggered to, dizzy, sick, and bleeding.

Sort of weird that William of Wales ended up wearing a 3 leaf clover on his wedding day, after I was tortured along with my entire family and little boy. It's almost like someone knew exactly what happened to me there and thought it would be funny. I don't know.

I had no idea that it was that close to the Seattle FBI offices. It is literally 2 1/2-3 blocks away. No, it's 3 1/2-4 blocks away.

I looked it up doing something I haven't done before, using the Google photo finder map, and got close enough to the street so I could look at it and see if it was the place and yeah, it's the place. In the photo, there is a furniture store next to it but when I was there it was a small cafe. I had espresso the place that's now a furniture store.

It's on 1st Avenue, 801 1st Avenue, with the cross-streets being 2nd, Columbia, Cherry, Marion nearby. The FBI office is 1110 3rd, and it's literally up the road.

After I was poisoned, I went towards the direction of the FBI offices but didn't know the offices were up ahead (I went there later, after I'd been repeatedly poisoned, tortured, and lost my voice permanently).

I don't care about William of Wales in the way some might think, except that I notice all of this. I notice all of this and think this is crazy.

After I had the burning on my tongue and tasted this odd metal taste, I decided, after blogging about this sensation, to go out and follow because the 2 women that gave me the cigarette were making a quick exit. They walked in the direction of the FBI offices, and I followed but lost them. I was standing at Marion and 1st and looking to the left to see if I could tell where they went but I didn't see them.

I didn't even know it but I was then only 3 blocks away from the FBI offices. Then I was sick and went...

I was sort of thinking the place name was Kell's Irish pub but I was looking it up and it didn't look as familiar. I will have to find a better shot because I couldn't see it very well. I need to positively rule it out.

It was Fados. The thing is, I was then in the pub and had to call for an ambulance and that's when they had an extremely long delay. The address is in Seattle records because I called for an ambulance and gave the address several times. There were so many bad people there that day--night. There were SO many bad people.

It was an Irish pub where you walk in and there are tables to the left in booths and also there are tables to the right in booths. Then you go back a little and the bar is in a semi-circle or semi-square and it's to the right when you walk in from the door. And then there were little tables and booths to the left of the bar.

I felt sick and dizzy so I went back after I couldn't find the women, and then I blogged more and went to the Irish pub and then I started to get very sick and some men came in and wanted to talk to me and used technology on me that made me extremely ill and that's when I went to the back to the restroom and started breathing deeply and drank a ton of water.

The man who was talking to me looked Jewish but I didn't know what his religion was. Then there was some kind of other ethnic person who wanted me to go with him to his place and I said no and had to call an ambulance. The men who arrived were Irish and not good Irish. I got such a bad feeling from them that I changed my mind about going with them. One of them said to me, when I had not said a word about the taste in my mouth, he said to me, "Do you have a metal taste in your mouth?" and when I said yes he looked happy about it. That was when I thought, "If I go into that ambulance who knows if I'll come out alive."

The bartender acted like he knew who I was and he HATED me. He glared at me the entire time and I didn't even know who he was. He looked Irish definitely. They were playing all these songs that I connected with Robin Bechtold, like John Lennon's "Imagine" and a whole bunch of things.

Then I was running because I was afraid someone was going to call police to try to detain me, because I could see something dangerous was stacked against me. The ambulance guys were telling me I had to give them some information and I said no I don't and I left, and then I literally ran in the dark to try to get out of sight of police because I had a bad vibe about what was going on. It was then, in the dark, this dark haired woman with 2 guys in a truck with her, asked me if I wanted to go with them to a rave party and I said no. And she said, pointing at this plane overhead, "Do you see that? better be careful" or something. She was the one who told me CIA was in Seattle, not just overseas. It was an extremely low flying plane and there is no way anyone but govt. could get clearance to fly a jet that low. It was a military jet.

Then from there, this wasn't the time I went to Virginia Mason. I stumbled back to this place where I was staying with a total stranger who was a heroin addict. He offered me a place and I had nowhere else to go. I didn't do anything (I mean, I didn't do any drugs), but I remember he got mad when I was looking at this Bible and it was on 2 Kings. I don't want to say anything about him bc I am not sure who was good and who was bad. I cleaned his bathroom for him I remember, because I wanted to do something for him. When I got there I was sick and dizzy and somehow fell asleep.

The next day I was going to Bainbridge and still had a weird feeling in my chest and throat. It wasn't better until I had a shot of whiskey at a bar in Bainbridge and then something quit burning or reacting. It was weird, like alcohol or something in it, had stopped the action of whatever was going on. I don't know why I had the idea to get a shot as soon as I was in Bainbridge but I did and for some reason, something was neutralized.

And I got a safe hotel room by myself and then I was told by someone later that I had almost suffocated. I didn't know if she meant figuratively or if something had happened while I was sleeping, like I almost stopped breathing...I don't know because I wouldn't be surprised. She said, "You weren't breathing" and she looked like she was almost crying and I said, "What do you mean?" and I kept running into really bad and dangerous people and just a few decent people here and there.

It was EXTREMELY dangerous and the people you'd think were supposed to be good were not always good. Like, you'd think you could trust ambulance drivers and I felt like I was suddenly in a 3rd world country.

Then, next, it was when I was in Bainbridge at this breakfast-cafe that this woman tortured me and did something with my neck.

Before all of this happened, I sang at an open mic in Seattle. One of the persons I stayed with was a reporter. After I sang, that was the last time I had my full range of my voice because it was either ruined with the poisoned cigarette or what this woman did to my voice by targeting the metal in my neck at the Bainbridge cafe.

I have not had my high range ever since. I'm not trying to brag, but I had had a very high and clear high range, and could sing very high beautiful notes. I couldn't do it anymore--my voice had been ruined by crime.

I had not gone to the hospital after I was poisoned with the cigarette because I had just been to Virginia Mason after severe bleeding and torture at the hostel. It was there that this woman, "Chris", tried to say if I felt "afraid" I could be checked into a psych ward.

So she threatened me and I knew if I went back to a hospital after that, they might try to put me in a psych ward even though there was nothing wrong with me mentally and I was being stalked, threatened, and assaulted. I left to Bainbridge and was tortured again and my voice was lost.

Then I tried to go to Seattle FBI and they literally SHUT their doors on me.

I was stunned.

The police there were corrupt and I was afraid of them. It was a black officer who came out but I don't remember his name but knew he was dangerous. And I'd been targeted by a black guy from the hostel too. So I didn't know who was connected to who. They all laughed at me. They said, "Why don't you call the U.S. Marshalls" and I said why and they said maybe they can help you. The Marshalls said they couldn't help me if I didn't have info on someone and I didn't but I told them I was being assaulted, poisoned and they said, laughing, that well, I might die but there was no way anyone could protect me.

That's what the police and Marshalls said to me. That I might die but there was nothing they could do about it to protect me. Then I went to the Seattle FBI, desperate, and they closed their doors on me. Not only had the Seattle FBI blocked me from trying to make reports for my safety over the phone, they turned me out before I could even get in. They put me into extreme danger.

My guess is that about this time, my Mom and Dad were also being tortured and the FBI was partly or fully to blame.

The FBI sold my son. Literally. And then they've done some really, really, bad things since and all I want is my son and to be safe.

I ran out of the cafe when I saw the women, from the window, from the Irish pub, leaving quickly. They were Gap preppy-professional young white women. Literally, they could have been FBI employees. Whoever had the cafe must have sold it. I followed them to Marion and looked to the left. Both were white.

I had hypopigmentation all over my arm after I was in Bainbridge, after what was done to me in Seattle.

I got back to Wenatchee, and my son had the same thing on his arm and Anne Crane laughed about it and just stared.

Anne Crane is FBI. I am positive she is an FBI employee and I had someone in TN even tell me she was. Why the FBI would choose a Catholic woman who was also FBI to cover up for crimes against me and my son and to document our visits is beyond me.

I had thought CIA. But someone told me she is connected to the FBI. And she witnessed and participated in abuse and torture of a child. Ann McIntosh knowingly concealed such things and obstructed documentation of torture of a child by State, police, and govt. workers, but I don't know that she actually participated. I know Anne Crane participated.

We know that our house is tapped with surveillance and whenever we know Anne Crane is listening, we cut or clip our nails. Not every single time, but often. We know she literally listens in. So we sit there and clip our nails loudly, because I used to do this in visitation with my son there--I clipped his nails and toenails. Sometimes we do it when we're on the phone with someone or someone can hear us on speakerphone, but other times, no one is on the phone and we know we're surveilled and we sit there and clip, clip, clip...

Knowing the FBI is listening in.

Remember Oliver? We do.

Clip, clip, clip, clip...

She knows we know. She at least knows my parents know and thinks they can't say anything. They don't have to say a word and never have to me, I already know what they're doing and why and I join in. Clip, clip, clip, clip...

Anne Crane is a criminal posing as an FBI agent, like several others. She should never be allowed around children EVER. She was the one who gave my son something that made him throw up in front of me and she is the one who psychologically abused him, lying in front of him, to discredit him in front of his own mother, lying and saying HE put his shoes on backwards. My son didn't do it. SHE did.

After seeing how reporter Amy Roe and Michelle Goodman know eachother and have connections to Tim Middleton (also a MSN Money contributor) who was former editor to "Crain's NY Business."

Is it some kind of sick joke to have Anne Crane lying through her teeth about torture and then find out about the above? And it's going back to D.C. too.

This new pastor came into town from the military and pretending to be a Protestant when he's Catholic and from Chicago along with the other one here, and had some CD with a vocal effect that Chris Dabney used to make on it.

They all know eachother.

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