|Emily AC: Multi-Talented Comedian||
two different police stations... three different people... hopefully, three unforgetable discussions.
I get you that some stories sound crazy. This is why it's extremely difficult to come forward with them. There was one person patient enough to listen.
With all discussions... and my name and address... on recorded conversation... and an extension number for anything else odd; that's good for now.
I will get fucked up and meditate, again.
Do some training... because, just as I suspected... the cops aren't exactly convinced. Oh, well. I told them about the web site... also on recording.. the sign in the yard...
So... I dunno... if I get dragged off and nobody finds the body... look for gang members near the liquor store wearing red. The dude with a deranged man's posture... even an untrained eye can't miss this guy... is the guy to talk to.
Thanks for the rudeness. It's good to know you're on dispatch... it's even better to know that shit's recorded in the event of... ack.
Yeah... if you're looking for a person to sign your petition on crappiness-ending-in-law-enforcement-dispatch... I'm first in line and I have the pen, chick!
Before you decide that I need to be hauled off to the asylum... why don't you hear out the suspicious activity that we, as good americans, are supposed to report! But you can't get past, "a gang is stalking you... and they're afraid of you? "
"Yes... that's exactly what I'm saying. That's why they won't talk to me."
"I'm hanging up... blah, blah, blah..."
...so I just very quickly spout off a bunch of the weird shit before she cuts off...
Then I call a diff police station... hear the line is recorded, also... go on about how I need to make some sort of statement... to anyone... and how they'd hung up on me, previously.
Tell me they can't do anything because it isn't the right city. I ask if they can take down a statement that the other police station hung up on me without hearing my story. They say this line is recorded and they can give me the number to the other station's dispatch... which just hung up on me.
Inquire about what I do if I'm hung up on, again... she said to call back and ask for a supervisor.
Listen... I've played that game with police stations. Your call gets "dropped." Over and over and over...
So... when I called back I just picked a different line and the person... a man--the irony, huh??? finally... one listens--patiently hears out most of the story... the bits I didn't rattle off like a freak before the dispatcher's line cut out.
He gave me an extension in case I see anything, again. Anything. Thanks, dude. You didn't tell me your name... but because you didn't act like a dick... between the three conversations... the police station has all the info they need in case of the worst...
...and the dispatcher's name for tongue-lashing in the event of the worst.
But I never believed the police would do anything, anyway. They never do. Unless the rape is completed... they don't give a shit. This stalking has only been going on for a short time.
But I think because my followers kept spreading me around... I felt a surge of power... and I think they felt that. When they saw that sign and checked out the blog... they didn't want to ring the bell...
Well... they would've seen 10000 for the week their boss tried to attack me in my garage! The day that happened was pretty close to my vid taking off (badly)!
Yeah... thousands and thousands, fellahs!
If none of this coincidence... and that gang read this and still reads for updates... know this...
I'm not going by your street. You don't need to go by mine. It makes no logical sense for you to go by my place.
We do not need to bother each other. I don't give a shit what you do... so long as you don't bother me. If you see me dancing in the street, listening to music...
...fucking deal with it and move along. I don't want to give you any more trouble!!!