Monday, May 6, 2013

Childhood Torture Commemorated By Wells Fargo Bank (When People Talk)

I was reading about memory and retention tonight and remembered my old phone number from Moses Lake.  I remember it as 1-509-782-9....  The zip was 98837 and the phone number was different.  I'll remember exactly.  The zip was definitely that, Rt.3 Box 33E. (I think)

Stephanies was 509-782-5050 at first, I believe, and then it was changed to 509-782-1000.

So I am sure that if there are some things I've forgotten temporarily or even for some time, I will remember some of it later.  The phone number has come up and I've known it was right and then other times I've forgotten again.  But I've had it come to mind accurately in the last couple of years and didn't blog it.  Before my son and I were both tortured, I never forgot it.

This country has kept me tortured and moving around, and prevented me from stabilizing and resettling in another country because of the crimes they committed.  They also drugged me and assaulted me with Haldol for the same reason, hoping if they couldn't kill me discreetly, they could hope I'd ever forget things or that no one would even believe me after they defamed and discredited me.  During this time, they told their federal agents I was free range rape target and have at me.  They didn't see anything wrong with it because that is what they did to me when I was a toddler.

This country brought everything around full circle.

They tortured me as a baby and electrocuted and raped me.  Then they eventually went into the exact same forms of rape, degradation, and torture and picked up my son along the way.  They got a lot of cheap and high quality labor out of me first, as one of the best nannies a kid could have, but then forced me out of my own child and then thought they could get me to teach a bunch of kids that weren't my own.  I have never had a right to retain my personal property because the government has been stealing from me since I was a toddler and they steal my son's toys from him, and food, as well.  They have treated my life, my property, and my body as "communal property".

They even forced me to have my parents attached to my bank accounts when I was an adult.  I think that way, if the U.S. wanted to take money out, they could.  If they wanted access or control to me through a parent, they had it.  If I died, I didn't have much, but it was theirs.  It was only when I was not attached to my parents through a bank account or some formal document, that the U.S. was worried.  They never liked my indepedence.  The U.S. found a way to keep my parents linked to some kind of property or bank document.

Why? Maybe a lawyer knows, like a military lawyer.  It obviously is creating some form of "agency".  When I found out my Dad's name was still connected to a credit union account I had, I asked to have it removed and they refused.  They said, "We'll have to get permission from your Dad."  That was in 2002 or 2004 or so.  I said, "It's my bank account, and I want it to belong only to me" and they refused and then I asked my Dad once or twice and he refused too.  I paid my own utilities in my name only, and my own mortgage, but the U.S. government wanted to be sure they had a line to me, through their employees (my parents).

When I finally opened a different bank account, with Wells Fargo, they went through my mother to try to shut it down without giving me notice.  They also went through FBI.  They threatened my mother and had her involved in closing my bank account without giving notice to me first.  The first time I had problems with Wells Fargo, was in Wenatchee, after I was in Portland and had a problem once with the bank, and was then being set up by Raul Bujanda and Garza. 

Wells Fargo has a commercial for their bank running currrently, that references torture against me when I was a baby.  "When people talk it's a beautiful thing", and a woman holding a baby.  They know what it's about.

http://adland.tv/commercials/wells-fargo-when-people-talk-2013-30-usa

The baby they feature is making the same noises my parents baby, Gannon, made when he was prevented from breathing.  And then you can see the woman saying "Hi" and curling her fingers up.  She looks like a woman I met in Wenatchee named Greta.  Her ennunciation is also to match Mike Tancer's family, and I specifically remember things he said to me about ennunciation after he raped me after a drug was put into my drink at a Portland bar, which incapacitated me when I had had less than half a short glass to drink and I was a more experienced drinker at that time.  His ennunciation was over, instead of "Hi", it was "Halloween". 

This woman they feature is using the same ennunciation he used, with, if you notice her finger movement and smile, a little bit of a witchy motion.  The book he had with him, as he was talking about Halloween, was The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

As I've said, the first time I went out with him, he did not rape me if he did cross the line, and I guess, in a sense, raped me.  I told him I didn't want to do anything and he knew I was drunk and he crossed the line.  We didn't have sexual intercourse per se.  He made a big deal about how DRUNK HE had been to justify what happened.  I hadn't classified it, in my own mind, as a rape.  Then he asked me to dinner, and I went and then we went for a drink and there was something wrong with the drink.  Either that, or there had been something wrong with the drink at the Mexican restaurant we were at and it took time for it to kick in.  From the time I had one drink with dinner, to the time I had only a few sips of a drink at Bar 15, it was about 1 hour.

We left the Mexican restaurant, went to an art show for Lewis & Clark where John Kerry's son-in-law had his art on the wall.  When Mike's friend came in, a woman in the steel industry, I was introduced to her and she said, looking at me and then at him snidely, "Are you working?" the same way a woman says to a model named "Susan" in the Harrison Ford movie "Random Hearts".  After being there, he wanted to go to a club Heinz was at and they wouldn't allow anyone in and Mike wanted to get a drink at Bar 15.  I had a few sips of one drink that was brought to me and I was drugged.  It wasn't like normal alcohol and he said we were leaving.  I was so out of it, I couldn't hold on to my clutch purse.  I went from "normal conversation" at an art place, to Mike talking privately with Heinz and some friends--I looked around at some of the art on my own, and then we left.  He had said we were going to an "after-party" there and there wasn't one. 

It is actually possible someone gave him something there, to use in my drink.  This is not something I had considered, because I assumed it came from the drink over the counter at Bar 15.  I do know the man pouring it, who I couldn't see completely because of the crowd, exchanged a smirk and knowing look with Mike.  It was a man pouring the drink, not a woman.  I couldn't see the pour because there were people inbetween me and I was in the back of a crowded area.

It is also possible Mike picked a chemical or drug up at the Art show and put it in the drink.  There was one time that I was walking around looking at things on my own, and wouldn't have noticed, and also, he went over to talk to Heinz separately and told me to stay there, and the "steel industry" woman took my attention to herself instead, asking me questions about what I did and how I knew Mike.

When I woke the next day, I felt like I had slept much more soundly than usual, and it was a very black sleep with no dreams or memory or anything.  I hadn't been drunk from the number of drinks I had because there was too much time inbetween, food, and I knew what my approximate limits were by then.  When I woke up, that morning, was the first time I thought, aside from the night before and wondering why something had "hit me" all at once, that I had been drugged because of the soundness and odd quality of the sleep.  It was more like I had been knocked out.  I actually even wondered if someone aside from Mike Tancer had gone into the room while I was knocked out, or what had happened after I had "fallen asleep".

That night, before it happened, he had left my side a few times.  To get up from the table at the Mexican restaurant and use the restroom (and I noticed the male waiter hated me, seriously), to talk to Heinz at the Art show and others while I looked around, and to get my drink at Bar 15.  We were sitting down and he said he'd get up and get drinks and to stay there, and I had a bad feeling or thought it wasn't a good idea to not see my drink being poured, so I stood up after awhile and tried to go over, but by then too many people were in the way blocking my view and all I could see was a male bartender and a female and then Mike walking through this crowd to give me the drink.  When I say there were people between us, I don't mean a line.  It was packed, like sardines, all the way around.

After I was raped, I was assaulted with military technology.  There was a knock on the door, then, and a courier was there to deliver a Visa to Mike, for him to leave for India.  The man said, "Here is your passport." I asked what was going on and Mike showed me his passport and said he had been waiting for his Visa to go on a trip to India.

I had a blow to the head to trigger a massive migraine.  I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to believe it was really a date-rape drug because I had thought I had some things in common with Mike.  I was also in shock because I felt dirty, like someone had just raped me, and I think I instinctively knew I had been raped but I couldn't take that idea, because I didn't want to believe it was possible that many men, by that time, would be doing the same thing to me.  I started to feel like it was my fault somehow, but it wasn't.  Because I wondered what bad thing I'd done to deserve being raped repeatedly, and didn't want to believe it, I told myself no, that's probably not what happened, when really, it was.  I again felt like maybe I had to just go out with Mike now, because I couldn't imagine having sex with another man or being raped by another separate individual.  I never was interested in being with more than one person, and my intentions had been for marriage.  So I started to feel like if it happened that many times, it felt dirty to even think of starting something with a different person, so I guessed I had to just stay with Mike.  However, I was still not comfortable entirely so I put off his calls, which were always interfering with my legal research.  Then when I went over another time, I had another massive migraine triggered. 

I felt something was really wrong, and that now he had a motive to try to set me up after he had raped me, so I quit seeing him and when he took my ring, he refused to give it back to me and kept telling me to drive over to see him.  I told him to put it in the mail and he refused.  He then showed up at my house and dropped it off and used triggers he knew I had from MKUltra programming and then called me and wanted to see me later he said, but I never took any calls from him again because I started to realize what he had done to me was following a pattern of what FBI employees were doing to me in premeditating date-rape.

He actually even had a Visa to go to India delivered to him, so he could take off if he wanted, if he thought I was going to go to police after he raped me.  Just like Josh Gatov, getting tipped off by FBI to leave the country for Thailand until they claimed my statutes had expired.

When I say "black sleep" to describe the kind of odd "knock-out" sleep I experienced after having a drug put into that drink, I recognized the same kind of 'sleep' when Eastern Indian doctors in Nashville, TN injected me with Haldol and a strong sedative.  I woke up from black sleep, with no dreams, and no memory of anything and no waking dream sleep either.  I always wake up with dreams before I wake, and it's part of the EMR process of dreaming.  The drugs knock it down and when I woke at Mikes and when I woke at the 'psych ward' in TN, after being interrogated about FBI, it was the exact same kind of wake from the exact same kind of sleep.

The only difference was that there was a heightened kind of buzzed, euphoric, drugged feeling first, when I got the drink at Bar 15, and then once I fell asleep, I woke up from what was like being-sedated sleep.

What sounds like what I was given is maybe Ecstasy with something else to cause black-out sleep.  Ecstasy describes the reaction I had except I don't know why it would increase alcohol levels or cause inability to hold onto objects like my purse.  It also doesn't explain why I slept in a sedated kind of state.  It does explain the feeling I had after a few sips of the drink and Mike took me to his house right after.

Basically, he date-raped me and then was prepared to leave the country if I went to a hospital to be tested. 

My son has been endangered because of this country and he has never been safe here.  He was tortured after I was raped and tortured and the U.S. lied and committed fraud to keep him in their grip.

After the Art gallery, before Bar 15, Mike Tancer had a conversation with Heinz over the phone.  Heinz told him, after you have drinks, why don't you come over to my house.  So we had drinks and then after I was drugged, Mike took me to his house.

On the way to driving to another place to get drinks, we passed a group of women and Mike Tancer was interested in the brunette.  I still remember what she looked like, and even though I did not know who Kate Middleton was at that time and had never seen a photo, when I later saw her, years later, in photos, she looked like the brunette that was out to be in sight and view of Mike as he was driving to the club.  She was shorter, and that was about it, a white brunette with long straight hair.  Mike kept staring at her and did a double-take over her, and watched her.  When Mike went to the first bar, where Heinz was, the guard said to him, "It's a private party."  Mike basically showed up and told the guard to let Heinz know Mike was there.  The guard got back to him with this message from Heinz, "It's a private party."  So then Mike took me to Bar 15, I was drugged, and the "private party" was at his house, with my being raped and his receipt of a Visa to flee the country the next day.

Oh, it's a beautiful thing when people talk.  I LOVE the Department of State!  Does Theresa Heinz know Tony Roos?  I'll bet Heinz knew John Kaempf.

KISS KISS

So then at his house, I vaguely remember him saying, "You have a beautiful body", which is something a woman said to me when I was showering after lap swim at a Tigard indoor swimming pool.  So beautiful, this country cut it up with knives and razors when I was a toddler with Canada's help and then raped me. 

The other thing Mike did, and I'll have to remember exactly what time and point it was that he did this, but when  a migraine was triggered against me by U.S. military while I was at his house, I asked if he had any advil and he said he had something, a dissolveable, melt in your mouth Excederin.  It was a flat tablet that was white and I said it tasted disgusting and then I said sarcastically, that it was "smooth".  That was given to me a different time.  From the time we arrived at his house from Bar 15, I had not had anything else except for the drink I was given.

The next time I saw him, I had a migraine triggered and took this because he said it was Excederin and he had some and they were new because they were trying dissolveable tablets.  It had a weird taste and was more "off" than aspirin actually, like a chemically taste to it.  There was no euphoria with it.  The euphoria and ecstacy feeling and then inability to hold onto my things, was in the drink I got at Bar 15.  Either Mike put something into that drink in the crowd, or a bartender there did.  When I say I think it was Ecstasy, or that this was one thing in the drink, it's because after about 10 minutes or so, or less maybe, I don't remember, I was suddenly touchy-feely and I'm not like that in public.  I was touching his arm and talking in his ear and something had hit me and it wasn't the alcohol.  Not even when intoxicated was I touchy-feely in public unless I was totally drunk and there was no possible way for me to go from not drunk to touchy-feely in a few sips.  It was something else.

When I was given the Excederin, I had a pronounced deep sleep like that in TN as well.  That was the time I wondered if other people had gone into the room while I was asleep.  I also remember later that I had some kind of flashback of some younger man talking to Mike and leaving as he went in but it wasn't the passport courier the other night because he didn't come into the house.  He stayed at the door.

There is not one single man that I was with that I would ever trust.  That doesn't mean I'm interested in women, because I'm not.  What it means, is that this country premeditated setting me up with U.S. fed after federal employee and they all knew eachother.  Every single one of them.  Mike was a set up too.  For one thing, why did he think it was funny, for all his friends in the balcony, to get down to my belly button level and get up close to it, when he had government information about what was done to me there.  Also, he knew I might comment on what he wearing or notice, because he wore what he chose to wear on purpose.  They wanted me to think it was my idea and it wasn't.  It was a govenrment set-up.

Erica Ballinger Yuille, now wasn't that EBY?

Erica pretended like they didn't know eachother.  He was dressed in a robe like Robin Bechtold had, in same slippers.  Even though Erica made a show of wanting me to go back with her, that's not how she was acting inside.  She was coming onto me, and talking to me like a lesbian.  She knew it would have potentially freaked me out, for her to suddenly do this.

Notice Middletons license plate to her wedding getaway car?  EBY.  It's SOOOooo EBY.  Give me an "E".  Ecstasy!  Give me a "B".  "Benedryl!"  Give me a Y!  "Metal Stent!"  Yaaaayyyyy.  Or, hahaha, how about some "torture" every "Yuille" tide?  Even better.

Erica, the Minnie "Forsyth" Driver of "steely" Kate's soon notorious infamy. 

Erica bought a new house with her Mom after this occasion, and after she queried me about whether I knew who her Dad was or not, she felt confident enough to say she was now, after a decade of getting into my business, never going to speak to me again.  Janet Bechtold loved her.  Erica asked Robin to prom one year and they were friends.  Mike was dressed like Robin, except he also had a pipe, and Eric Lund's Dad smoked a pipe.  I had had some idea once, when working for the Rose family, that when I drove past the director's house, who wrote "Good Will Hunting", I always pictured the director in a similiar robe with a pipe and told Erica about that too, but Mike was wearing a robe the same color as Robin's, same slippers, and the difference was that his robe matched one of Robin's paisley print shirts.  Mike, down at my belly button level. How fucking Middleton.

US Steel in Canada includes a major Canadian branch in Hamilton, Canada.  It's called the "Gore" district.  People involved in owning parts of that company and being involved include the families of Forsyth (Scotland, Montreal), Robinson, Cartwright, Hamilton, Durand, Gamble, Simcoe, and Foley.  That's just a few of the names.

Recently in Oregon there was a shooter at Clackamas Mall, where I went with Erica Ballinger once.  He killed Cindy Ann Yuille (CAY) and Steven Mathew Forsyth (SMF).  I don't know why that is suddenly hilarious, but why kill a smurf?  Or a smith.

So this "minnie" driver of the "mickey" mouse case is Erica Ballinger Yuille.  When I say she suddenly came onto me, she waited until we were at this club, to try to rub her body against mine and I danced a little, like friends, but then she said, with a flirting look, "I like girls" and "I like to dance with girls" and tried to be sexual with me, after Mike was there.  She didn't act that way or say anything until after he was "engaged" so to speak, and I was the victim.

After she took off in her car, after he act of pretense, a little white rabbit kind of hatchback car, the next person I was set up to be raped by, drove the same brand of hatchback and was a Jew, Jonathan, who was Helen's brother.  He got a new car out of it and then it was Raul Bujanda and Armando Garza, joking about how "smooth" my arms were.

All of this was premeditated and planned out by men and women, and it was done after I tried to report being raped by Robin Bechtold (Catholic) and Josh Gatov (Jew) and who knows if even Brian was involved in the FBI even if he did not rape me.  I reported it to Det. Grose and the next thing was setting me up, through Christa Schneider initially, to be raped by more people, maybe to get revenge or to try to make me look bad instead of them, or trash my reputation when I had a defamation lawsuit pending.  I mean, I guess their idea was to set me up, pass me around by rape, and then try to claim I was the type of person who had one-night stands.  That way, Amy Roe and the FBI didn't look so bad, lying about my character.  It minimized my case of rape by Bechtold and Gatov, who were both federal employees.   Also, Robin knew Mike Nichols, who had tried to kill me in 1995.  Also, it was a way to degrade me deliberately, knowing I was tortured as a kid.

The last time I checked, that bank is connected somehow to Hilton, but maybe I'm wrong about the Hilton contact for that bank specifically.  The Commercial Bank of the Midlands is another bank with an interesting history.  That one will take you all the way back to Syracuse, "cough, cough".  You can go ahead and put a bright thumbtack for Del Balzo, Tancer, and Hamilton Steel.  It's where our Iron and Steel meet up with Halifax and ...

I've found a few connections to the "Coughlin" family.  Mary Coughlin is the one who drove me and my son to one doctor appointment and stole my appointment card.  Her husbands name is Crestin.  Coughlins are mostly Catholic, and they are in Wenatchee, Spokane, working for the U.S. Navy (Cmdr Mike Coughlin, Olympia, WA for Bangor, WA), working as coaches for Syracuse in Buffalo, NY, and have a history of writing about intelligence matters.  Snitches bascially, and potentially, the kind of snitches that just lie for political favors.

Also, our lovely "cough"lins are familiar with the Navy Processing Facility on Whidbey Island.   Which is really quite fascinating when you have Coughlins in the U.S. Navy stationed in Olympia, WA currently; Coughlins living on Whidbey Island who are Roman Catholic and work as seamstresses (like my neighbor Mary Coughlin); and Coughlins who have a relative named Paul, whose papers are found archived at the University of Washington, about communism and McCarthyism; and The New York Giants coach who lives in Park Ridge, New Jersey and is friends with George Bush, and all of a sudden, I'm looking at "Mary Coughlin" who was stealing my appointment information, as a Michelle Erickson accomplice for deliberately lying and obstructing justice with regard to my son Oliver.  Michelle Erickson is as connected to the U.S. Navy as Mary Coughlin and Middleton.

All that I have to do with that, is show how "Adam" from Lewis & Clark, knew Heinz who went to Lewis & Clark.  Connect the dots. 

Adams family, his Dad, is U.S. Navy intelligence in San Diego, CA.  "Harper".  Harper is a great fit for both Navy and Hamilton Steel in Canada.

Oh hello again Coughlin.  Ms. Walker?  How nice of you to dispose of my son to the likes of Theo Keyes and Michelle Erickson and Katetrid.  Was Erica Ballinger also called in to torture my son?

I have a question.  Is it Laura Laughin, or Laura McLaughlin?  Something tells me someone in her family chose to drop the "Mc" for a reason.

I am rambling because I'm finding new information.  For example, Alan L. Yuille!  I looked him up because I was trying to find photos of the teacher I had in high school, Mike Yuille, who taught Psychology (which I never wanted to take) and A.P. History.  He had a crush on Amy Nelson, who ended up being the one to sleep with Robin Bechtold.  She actually told me about "sizes" of male parts once, and told me Robin's was "average".  I had always thought, in high school, that Mr. Yuille maybe slept with her or tried to.  He did not have just a passing interest in her; he was in love with her.  I believed she worked as a Teacher's Assistant for him too, for Psychology.  No one lit his face up like Amy.  He stared at no one the way he stared at Amy.  He was in LUV with Amy.  Janet Bechtold liked Amy too.

So this Alan L. Yuille works at UCLA and went to college at University of Cambridge.  He has a diagram up on his site that features a drawing of a purple horse, like my son used to refer to when he was showing me how someone was hypnotizing him.  Alan also specializes in "vision" optics work, and works with Koreans or taught in Korea, something about Korea.  He studied with Stephen Hawkings, and oh, he looks just like the Adam that worked at Lewis & Clark Law Library.  He's collaborated with scientists who were involved in torture of children at McGill University in Canada.

I sent him an email and asked if he was any relation to Mike Yuille from Sherwood High School.  I'll let you know if he replies.

;)  Cheers!  Oh toodles, cheers!!!  (duchess of cambridge, proud sponsor of cancer for children)

I cannot find anything about Mike Yuille.  He was supposedly a former U.S. military person I know that much.  I think it was Marines, but possibly U.S. Navy.  He was very interested in psychology and history and he didn't live in Sherwood, but outside of Sherwood--he commuted over a half hour each day to school.  I thought he was having a student-professor affair with Amy and told some student so.  I didn't accuse him, I just thought it was maybe possible because of how interested and flirtaceous they were with eachother.  It was Reese Witherspoon in that movie about the girl who gets what she wants with an affair from the teacher.  Well, Amy seemed nice enough to me, but she was the one who decided to sleep with Robin.  It was played off to me like he had told her he didn't love her and she slapped him.  Who knows.  I have no idea how she decided Robin's "part" was "average".

Here is Katie Middleton's favorite song, with herself as the star:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiYF7pUPuFs

Why don't you dance bitch.

Here's what Anne Crane is interested in:
 
Dissection
(by Alan L. Yuille)
 
The "Lennox" family, by the way, is living in Canada, in the "Gore" district.  They are connected to US Steel.
 
The song "No More I Love Yous" is one that Christa Schneider loved.  She loved everything by Annie Lennox and went to her concerts and played her music all the time, beginning in late 2004.
 
 




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