[Ms. Scott, I’ll be trying to describe the Broadway and Joplin Streets small-so-far bad difficulty at the bottom of this file I’d started earlier:]
I was trying to get one of the dogs then lapping at that but they kept getting scared away. It horrified me.
The reason this is a big deal is that it’s also tied to my account with the Bank of America, this is the Armageddon being manufactured off of me all my life and increasingly and I hadn’t wanted to have to sign up with such a big bank but in retrospect there really wasn’t any other as useful, however, anything about me the system’s been targeting, which is why Ms. Shepherd could use a watch over herself since I’m thinking about her as could be such an assistance with reality here, etc.
The dog-bite seems connected to my buying (pre-cooked) hamburgers at the supermarket the other night and the supermarket is next to the bank, first I get the money and then go shopping is usually the pattern. The system, the “Allen Ginsberg-Jurassic Park noises bum-type” was all over me growling to the traffic vehicle noises in that busy area and then the ATM said it wasn’t working, for the first time there. I went inside and did some new “mobile-banking” ATM they had but then they wouldn’t give me a receipt and I couldn’t get the machine to accept the way I tried to submit the email address to itself, and it never did come to the email, I’ll have to wait till next transaction to find that everything is status quo with what it’s supposed to be, makes me a little uneasy in the meantime. I went from there to the Kroger store and when I’d decided on the fully cooked hamburgers and went back for them the main stockperson did some little routine of reaching down to touch his ankle as though significantly and it’s the same place I was then bitten by this dog last night, as though the dog-attack was curse for buying hamburger. It sounds inane but that’s how the insane system’s been pulling off this planet-takeover, with these little “garbage-‘magic'” tricks, I call them, garbage-level all the time, everywhere around the world. They’re also doing some sort of a theme where Hispanics all seem to be made at me, as like the owners of that grown- now litter of dogs, and the cleaning lady while I was trying to do that mobile-banking machine, that that branch had long ago put out a dead pigeon that I had to walk by after making a transaction, it was just left in some spot where I’d notice it was still there, and all kinds of negativity here at the library too, all this negativity accumulating, is why I figured I’d better open a file on this as I can see at least a couple of problems ahead, that they’d had a fire truck and ambulance and then police out there and who’s going to pay any bills from all that while I’m kept indigent like this, but worse, if I don’t move, even if somehow the dog-situation was made manageable enough for me, I know what these Armageddon-bums are planning to advance to, they’re planning to advance to a — I don’t even want to say the word, but one of these Allen Ginsberg-types had done that to me in 1983. It’s possible they’d even set the whole thing up in advance by renting a little island and paying people to buy party liquor and such and invite me to a party which I hadn’t, transient that I only ever am, hadn’t realized was on an island or I might have thought better of going to one with strangers, but out of nowhere this Allen Ginsberg-looking face had gone into a tent I was laying down alone to go to sleep in and did that and wasn’t around the next day, just that methodical doing that to me and now these filthy bums are casually like lifetime-sucking attachments on me, that I hadn’t especially noticed through all the different types of this invisible-torture set till I’d gotten to Florida last year and it’s just this daily filth on me ever since, making those “howls” to traffic noises most of the time that you could hear them even when I’m sitting inside here like now, outside noises like the devil waiting for me out there sometimes it is, etc., and there appears to be this looking forward to my going to Arizona for toward their Armageddon affect I’m sensing off of this methodical-type dog-attack last night, the way it was all set up like a little more each day all this summer and before that, that now I’m in the situation where I have to leave there, as there was then an additional “scene” this morning before I left there to where it’s like my weekly rent wasn’t even wanted, overheard phone conversation where I’m personna non grata there, mentioning that I walk around talking to myself, where I don’t have anyone to talk to and that’s been a growing problem as this situation’s been being arranged, but now these Armageddon-bums seem really looking forward to taking this circus and unpacking over by Fort Huachuca, where I’m hoping I could use the Communications-Intelligence branchs’ library, as civilians are allowed to and they’ve got really nice all-day and evening hours and resources there. Why would I want this end of the world making to be happy to be going there, and that’s the situation I’m in, trying to reach people around that area for being contacts but I’ve tried all these things before and these parasites just get “revved up” to defeat any little thing I try to do, the Gingsberg-blob all excited over that victory over me last night for instance. Then if I could figure any way of coping with the pack of dogs that overheard phone call practically stuck in my face as the rent-clerk gave me the receipt back quashes any thought of that, some female on the other end was saying that I just have to go, me and my talking to myself and whatever all else was going on in that long conversation that I’d been trying to ignore but he came over with the rent receipt right as I was leaving and I could hear her real clearly. That makes it clear that even if I could cope I’m wanted out of there, and I’m no match for all sides coming against me at the same time like this, so I’ve sent off 2 email-inquiries about a shelter space and I’ll be going to the emergency room tonight to find out what about this wound now.
I went back to try to find out what their interview hours are and the search-engine had this as the first entry:
Women & Family Development Center
at Star of Hope’s Cornerstone Community®
Additional Intake Information
Thank you for your interest in The Women & Family Development Center at Star of Hope’s Cornerstone Community®.
We are located at 2575 Reed Road Houston, TX 77051.
We are designed to accommodate:
- Single Women
Our Accommodations are as follows:
- Singles (4 per room)
- Single (Man w/ children 1 per room)
- Single (Woman w/ children 1 per room)
- Single (Woman w/ 1 child shares room with another Single Woman w/ 1 child (gender of children to be considered)
The Women & Family Development Center offers up to 12 months of programming for Residents, depending on the program the individual is in. Due to space restrictions, we ask that each person bring in no more than one bag of personal items. Residents are not permitted to bring food into the shelter unless medical documentation is provided.
Star of Hope Provides Three Meals Daily: for all residents.
Intake hours are: Monday through Friday 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.
We look forward to serving you.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
— So the answer to my question is that they aren’t open over the weekend to find out if I could get a space, and this about one bag of belongings doesn’t sound good for the oxygen tanks.
The oxygen-business is unreal. They have this horrible machine that I can’t stand and I’m not sure if it’s any helpful for me anymore, I’d tried it a little last month and it was awful. What I’ve been able to be doing is using fourteen tanks a month, four of them little ones and ten of them medium-sized. They don’t take up much room but one bag of belongings they aren’t. Then there’s the spooky aspect of all that’s being ready for me on the computer, thanks for your interest additional information, then the quote from the Jeremiah, me thinking that Jeremiah and Zechariah/Zacharias are about the same thing, from that Ghent Altarpiece, that this Armageddon world-takeover might could be called the Ghent Altarpiece Conspiracy, that it mostly seems to come from their work, though they have their further “boss” back way behind Russia under Siberia. I figure that what Boss Shepherd had done in Washington DC with any all underground/underworld he’d then brought out of that area of Mexico south of where the intelligence-area all is, and then he and the system would have been likely to plan for over here to be similar to their set up under Siber-Mongol area, their longtime and main headquarter I’ve long figured.
Oct. 3rd, it’s real bad, trying to recuperate. On the oxygen scam though I’ve been thinking that when I started getting eyeglasses stuck onto my face around age 6 that the weight of those on the bridge of my nose has always been cutting down my breathing ability, and maybe that’s really how the low-level of the O2 had started being gotten used to by my system so that then they sprang (sic) this discovery of it on my in 2014 like a sarcastic joke-hoax, that it’s long been that way because of all this lifetime of the system’s sabotages. It’s like I just thought I’d mention that here because it’s only 4:30 pm and I hate to have to quit for the day but I’ve got all this illness-recuperation and trauma over getting back to that bungalow area before it gets dark out, which is at 7:30 pm and so for me to get there at a reasonable time I really walk slow and have to get started getting back to there around now, especially if there’s any shopping-errand that’d have to get done which today I’m skipping. Then tomorrow’s the short hours at the library unless I try to go to the downtown one to do the little work I wasn’t able to get done today, but the “Armageddon Show” would still be rehearsed for packing up and being there under me with their porno-HinduHeeHaw thing they seem to be doing. I don’t have the time and strength to start any project on here but I don’t like having to quit so early every day like this. I should — try writing some letters but I couldn’t copy the papers for the writing of them onto with me today because of having tried that Star of the Hope place again and I guess it’d have to be for the last time, have to find some other way of getting some sort of assistance and I’ve tried-tried everything, there’s just nothing but the same old “stranded” situation and not any contacts with any normal human chemistry ever. — Now I notice that I’d mentioned the star-place above here between the hospital “visits.” That means I could try to describe that in sitting in their waiting room I kept seeing a little more of this video documentary that they’ve got of themselves but isn’t or doesn’t seem to be on the You Tube like many of their others, this one being all about the new place, but their past and present chairmen of the board look like the Samuel brothers, Marcus and Samuel Samuel….
21 Oct., it’s taken me all this time to get this to here, that before I’d left the room on September 4th there had been a bunch of aura of that creepy “magic” and tricks all over me feeling and it, and subsequently in that time-period, had seemed to come from someone that looked like this late Tamil, Velupillai Prabhakaran’s “type” of a body size and face, that they were “playing” sleight-of-hand type tricks on me then and later were squeezing-out my breathing ability, when the medication had been found to be gone and I couldn’t function through everything to think to get it replaced quickly enough, etc., and I’ve got all this month unable to get this simple example of what the “magician” had looked like up here to be able to get along with trying to pull that time period together, am still recuperating and being bombarded now with the Henry Morgan pirate-type partner in this world-devestation global-system takeover, where all these “cultures” are like film costume gimmicks, disguises for the same stereotypes, this being a typical one, some of them in most or all the different countries, etc., etc. then for the phony controversialities to anything a normal person might say in trying to get all this untangled. This is a click-on, especially because it’s a copyrighted photo, there aren’t any PD photos of this guy and he’s all I can think of so far that looks like this “magician” underworld apparition scam that was being perpetrated so I couldn’t eat or sleep and grew sickly, first t– I still haven’t described the “magic” trick I notice, and these subjects are all like something you have to be in the mood to start talking about and I can’t coordinate all these different factors. Like right now I’m supposed to be leaving the library early today. What it was was that on September 4th I’d gone to take that aerosol lung medication and there was only 1 “puff” left in the container so I then opened the new container of it and took the other puff for the day, then I went to leave the room but I noticed that I hadn’t put the container back in the new-opened package, having also just thrown away the old package. I glanced around the table top and didn’t see it offhand but figured it was there somewhere, gathered the trash bag and tied and threw it into the trash can outside like usual and then left for the day, but, there was this “aura” intimating that maybe I didn’t see the container because I’d thrown it into the trash bag, that I’d thrown the 2 containers away one at a time, and I’d thought that that was inane and shoved the wisp of the thought out of my mind, but when I got back about 5 days later the container wasn’t anywhere and there was always this lingering doubt that maybe I had thrown it into the garbage in one of the “magic” sleight of hand tricks they do all of the time when one is preoccupied with some other thinking and not on guard against those sorts of the underworld-tricks. Then the next morning I saw that my coffee can was gone also — now there’s a thing you couldn’t accidentally toss into a trash bag without noticing what you were doing, and then there were a few other missing items I noticed over the few days there, as though someone had come into the room while I was in the hospital and taken the medicine, the coffee can, 2 different kinds of sugar I’d had, my new big bottle of ketchup and some double-A batteries for this tiny fan I carry as a back-up for breathing assistance. You’d have to know that there were the 2 little sugar packets in a little tea box that I use for sewing supplies to be able to find those, and then that little dispenser I use I haven’t even been able to replace yet, was hoping to be able to try to get to that store today after the other errand, etc. I didn’t know what to think, that it could be that those other items had been taken to confuse the situation that was the confusion from the speck of doubt that I might really have accidentally thrown the medicine away myself. I don’t think that I had but as bad-off as I am I certainly couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t when the stuff turned up missing. Then I had this occasionally-noticed “figment” of a sight like
this “Tamil Tiger” that he’d been for instance, but without the hat on, like a strongman squeezing me so I couldn’t breathe, eat or sleep well, all these “magic” -done types of standard tricks were being played but mostly seeming to come from like a specially-hired saboteur-act to do those things, in concert with the dogs’ being remote-control trained from under the area for this ambush. Right now it’s going into some other ambush-mode, like a next type of invisible-torture set up, of escalating this “Armageddon Program” and using tricks with the social media for doing that by, maybe is what this Ginsberg-et al. are up to, where today was real horrible till I got here and was able to do the little bits around the blog to try to help keep my sanity okay, but the cartoonieism affect of all this sneaky garbage onto reality defies description.
Here are the unsorted cellphone-sends from September to the Crime Victim dept:
4th note from Kathy Foshay on Sept 4 dogbite incident:
On trying to figure all this bad luck where I can neither stay where I am nor go anywhere else I’m realizing that I’ve been unable to reach anyone about my difficulties with satanism, that church out of San Francisco,where I’d gone to live in 1978, unawaredly carrying these underworld parasites one, from the Bronx.
(on piximail, crime victim services, draft:
Incident#1153582-19, I think I found the address by computer-map, 7912 E. Magnolia Street, Houston 77012. The puppies were birthed in the spring, the mother disappeared, and they’ve just been growing and the skinniest one seemed particularly forceful with incessant barking each evening as I’d walked by there. I’m in the VA hospital and an e.r. doctor mentioned that the dog had to be observed, and I don’t know if or think they’d gotten the standard shots. Here’s hoping this reaches you. Kathy Foshay, Sept. 6
Incident number:1153582-19, Sept. 4, Kathy Foshay dog-bitten, 3rd note:
On Thu, Sep 19, 2019, 11:11 PM Kathleen Foshay <universerescue.attempt> wrote:
9/19/19, Victim Services, Everything has been terrible for me and my little life is falling apart and I don’t know any people in Houston to assist me. I was able to get out of the (VA) hospital from the bite treatment on Tues. 10th but then everything started going wrong and when I got to the rented room that’s near the dogs I found that the regular prescription I take for my lungs/breathing medication was gone. This puts me in the difficult position of having to think that someone at the rooming house might have been involved but the real point was that things kept snowballing down, because I don’t have transportation for to and from the bus stop, that I wound up having to ask the manager to call an ambulance for me on the 16th and then things REALLY got worse and I’m just stuck here again now and don’t have a way to contact the Magnolia Street Rooming House that I don’t want them to throw my things away, that I am trying to get there to pay the rent but I can’t stay there because of the dogs and haven’t been able to find any other type of shelter either, don’t know what I can best do yet. The expenses of all this so far seem to have quashed my idea of going to Fort Huachuca/AZ but I still think it’s what should be done one way or another. Any suggestions please let me hear from you. Sincerely, (http://www.UniverseRescue) Kathy Foshay (WordPressCom.WordPress.com)
Incident Number 1153582-19, Kathleen Foshay 4 Sept. 9pm dog-bite
On Fri, Sep 6, 2019, 10:06 AM Kathleen Foshay <universerescue.attempt> wrote:
Incident#1153582-19, I think I found the address by computer-map, 7912 E. Magnolia Street, Houston 77012. The puppies were birthed in the spring, the mother disappeared, and they’ve just been growing and the skinniest one seemed particularly forceful with incessant barking each evening as I’d walked by there. I’m in the VA hospital and an e.r. doctor mentioned that the dog had to be observed, and I don’t know if or think they’d gotten the standard shots. Here’s hoping this reaches you. Kathy Foshay, Sept. 6–I’ll try to attach a photo of the blood puddle, the dogs scattered aside.
Please disregard email just accidentally sent to you on Incident #1153582-19:
Dear Victim Services, I missent an email to you instead of to myself at my blog, trying to catch-up to organize, please just ignore it or send it back to me if simple to do that. I’m really still in a bad state from all that. When I got back from the hospital from the dogbite my (lung) medication was missing and everything went wrong, me spending about 3 days just looking for and expecting it to show up somewhere in that little room of mine and by the time I realized it wasn’t there anymore I’d gotten real sick and the timing was off on everything and I wound up back in the hospital again and am just now trying to pull these pieces of what had happened together a little more organizedly. If you’re interested I’m trying to get funds for getting myself to Arizona to try to reach the “military intelligence” and communications center there. Thanks: UniverseRescueKathyFoshayWordPressCom.wordpress.com
— Dec. 12, 2019, Thursday
I just tried sending a cellphone-message to the BARC because of the strange new difficulties I’m having.
The main one is that a used-car lot has had a big dog that barks at night while I’m at the bus stop across the street but now it’s out loose! but maybe that was only the one day to scare me, about last Monday or the 4th of December, I’d have to check my notes. First there was some big dead cat-looking heap on the sidewalk area on the south side of Joplin St. there between Broadway and Gulf Streets. It took my 2 days, that Monday I guess it was, to get back there to see if I could report it by trying to call the 311 about getting that picked up but I had to make sure that it really did at least look like a dead animal so I went back there and while I was trying to telephone I looked over and this big scary-looking dog was there looking at me. I guess he started barking so that one of the workers from the Awning company on the south side came over and led him away and pointed that he belonged to that empty-looking yellow house at I think the address is 8012 Joplin. Then since the guy was around I asked him about the dead animal and he looked and said it was a cat, big brown fur like about 25 pounds it had seemed when I first saw it, like maybe it was a fancy fur-piece instead of a dead animal, but it got smaller like it was, as sinking into the ground, less conspicuous now. I’d wound up sending an email to 311 or the proper place but then walking back at about 6pm that dog showed up again and since the dog-bite I’m just terrified of them and this one looks like he could eat me alive because I can barely walk, am 64-years old but have all this “Armageddon difficulty” all all over me, indescribable and super-dangerous for me personally because strangers, like anyone and yourself for interest, can’t believe this “story” that the system lives off of bothering, sabotaging, me. I’d tottered to the bus stop and some guy had walked along like a regular citizen taking a walk and then terrified by the dog but able to run across Broadway to get away from him. I went to the used-car parking lot on I forget which day but could check my (little only) notes. The person there said he doesn’t have a dog, repeated the phrase that way, where the dog would belong to the lot and not to an individual employee anyway. Later I realized that I’d only ever heard the dog barking after dark, never even at dusk, so that maybe whoever owns it only let it into the lot for scaring me with that insane-like barking that it does to way over at the bus stop, quite a distance, and I hadn’t heard the dog every single evening, just sometimes, not any particular pattern that I can recall.
All this means is that it’s some possibility that whoever controls the dog might let it out, just the same way that the one that had bit me might or might not have been led to do so, from the underneath that seems to be a big secret all over the globe but that controls life out here. I’ve never seen or heard of any sort of an underworld but eventually you have to figure that that’s what’s so peculiar about everything, and as I grow older I’ve learned alot about it from out here, but, unbelievably, it’s been living off of me since around 1960, is how I’ve been learning about it I guess, and they have me like “ghost prisoner” here in Houston now and are using “tricks” like with the dogs and strange neighbors and I never have contact with anyone that’s “normal” so that my life is more and more narrow until I’m in this dying ghost-prisoner situation right now and super-desperate — but I’ve been trying to contact anyone to assist me with “all this” since 2005, hundreds and hundreds of letters to people and groups in Washington and then around here this past year and my situation just gets worse and worse, and now they’ve got this “dogs and toilet” syndrome-set of driving me out of existence because I can’t stand cold weather, my health goes way low when the temperature goes under 60-degrees, so I don’t know how I’ll survive the winter and now I’ve got this dog on the walk if I leave the library and it’s dark out already and then there’s never any telling about dogs on the other end of this walk back to that rented room, that the across-the-street neighbors have got one or two scary ones, and lately some other new ones too and the weather hasn’t even gotten cold yet. No kidding, now the library’s underworld-area just sent up this guy to sit at the next terminal that does a burping-routine till it turns a stomach, can just sit there and burp for hours or till he drives me out of the library. Okay, one important subject I have to touch on is that when I got out of the hospital from the dog-bite I’d gone back to the rented room and my medicine was missing and I wasn’t able to explain that to Officers Prestridge and Salazar when they came by to ask me about the dog-bite, I was just extremely ill and couldn’t believe that the medicine was gone and couldn’t describe that my room had been entered and the medicine and some other items stolen, I couldn’t tell if the medicine had been stolen when the other items had been taken or if they’d been taken just to confuse me so that I’d accuse someone of having entered and stolen from my room there when in reality perhaps it had been one of those underground “magic” sleight-of-hand confusion tricks that had caused me to accidentally toss the medicine, and then as usual I emptied the trash and went out but on the way back got bitten by the dog and when I got out of the hospital I had both the medicine and other items missing and I didn’t know what to think or to tell the girls and I wound up getting so “magic” ill from inabilities to move or to eat that I’d had to ask the manager to call an ambulance for me and I’d gone back to the hospital but then the worst part of everything happened, that that was a near-death experience I went through. Right now I can’t recall which getting out of the hospital it was but after one of them I’d left the bungalow as usual to go on errands or what I have to do and these dogs from across the street had gotten all around me but the point is that the person that was with the dogs then didn’t tell them to quit bothering me, acted more like she was trying to excite the dogs toward more barking, which by itself is enough to make me ill from this sneaky Armageddon “magic” that’s all always all over my little life and is so unexplainable.
— This torture on me is so bad, follows me around and digs in wherever I go, that I’m starting to worry about this upcoming run-off election, that this ill global-underworld controls those things increasingly.