After Patricia confronted Pancho about the women on the job and he beat her up, she moved back with her sister to Detroit. I had moved from my mother’s and had gotten an apartment. Even if she did like to hang with Black folk, she still looked White. She got herself a job in Waterford and she would stay with me from time to time. I liked the company, and she would bring “the boys”. We would cook and watch television like we did when she lived here. This guy who was crazy about her had put together a piece of car for her and I had lost my car, and she would take me to work. One day, she was taking me to work, and she made a startling confession. She had to go to the Pontiac Police for an interview. Paul had applied for a job there and as a part of the process, people close to him had to be interviewed. Since she had lived with him and had his twins, she was someone they wanted to speak to. “I know you’re not going to do it! Well, not give him a good review.” She told me that he needed the job, and it would help him take care of the twins.
“You still want to give him those boys!” I turned in the car to look at her, “And your going to the police and lie to them after everything he put you through?” Suddenly there was a voice from the back seat. “My Dad’s going to be a cop, he’s going get the bad guys!” He was elated. “Your Dad is the bad guy!” I spit out from the front seat and turned to look at him. He looked confused. “DON’T SAY THAT TO HIM!” Patricia scolded me from the driver’s seat, “That’s his father!” “I don’t believe you are defending him the way he used to beat your ass!”
She was stuck with him like all the people in his family. Everyone but his mother knows how sorry he is, and she hates it. She blames it on her mother, his grandmother. “Rea was a sweet woman that loved him very much and let him do whatever he wanted all his life, while his mother left him with her to live her life. He hates his mother, probably because she left him to be raised by his mother and when she didn’t like the way he turned out it took it out on him. He was a teenager when she took him from “Rea”, whom he loved dearly. Only to try to raise him when he is grown. She wasn’t his mother, “Rea” was, and she had coddled him and treated him like he was special. All his mother’s discipline was nothing but causing him to resent her, and I guess it turned into hate eventually. Patricia and I talked on the phone for hours and I have to say this to people who want to treat their significant other badly, beat them and talk badly to them, don’t tell them your secrets, because they have no loyalty to you; not really. They’ll tell all your business. Patricia told me everything. Patricia kept “The boys” from their father’s abusive nature. Her eldest son, the one that’s not his knew. When the door was closed to their bedroom, he would bang on the door and cry out, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY MOMMY!”
She left him, though. She went and lied to the Pontiac Police, however, and ruined my life. One time, after she’d left him, he had come to her sister's house and tried to beat her up. She had told him that she had come to my house to show me the last beating. “She knows everything. I showed her.” Then she went and lied to the police and got him that job with the Pontiac Police Department. It was the worse thing anyone has done to me. The man is diabolical, and the badge he has is just a tool he uses to destroy the lives of people in his way. That would be me.
On September 11, 2001, I made a bad choice. I called a friend at the Pontiac Police. Only three years before, my brother had been indicted. My brother’s case had been dismissed, but the prosecutor had sent the indictment to a higher court to have the charge reinstated. We were waiting to see what would happen. The charges were reinstated and two years later, my brother was tried and convicted. He was 19 years in prison. Thanks to Pancho, I did four years. I told my lawyer, wrote letters to the judge saying he used to beat my best friend years before and that he is using his authority as a police detective to punish me for knowing and seeing his brutality all over my friend’s body. Nobody cared and nobody listened to me. They even over sentence me. I had never done time before. I was arrested twice but never convicted or did time in jail. My statutory guidelines were 0-90 days in jail. Upon violating the conditions of my probation, the most I could get is 90-days in jail. Colleen O’Brien gave me 18months to 5years in prison. While in prison, I was declared officially insane, because I was beating up all my bunkies, because they anted to have sex with me. One woman wanted me to steal green peppers out of the kitchen. I didn’t care; I got my own room. I didn’t have to worry about another sleepless night, until now.
Pancho is the devil who is jealous of women. He hates me, because of what I know about him. I told you that his family thinks he walks on water. I saw his cousin at “The Choice” at The Apostolic Church. I asked her about the twins and if Pancho still had them. She had her nerves to say, “Paul would never let Patricia raise them boys!” I turned my head quickly so she could see the expression on my face. I was so pissed, and she knew, they all knew. She didn’t have anyone while she was living in Pontiac. They are just as culpable for her abuse as he was, abusers have a way of turning people who trust them to villainize their victims and even make them believe that they deserve the abuse. Somehow these people are less than human. They do everything wrong that ruins the abuser’s life. Patricia was the primary caretaker for the twins. She gave them to him, because she was worn out and didn’t want the reminder. I begged her not to, but I didn’t know what it was like to be abused. At least that’s what she said. She tried to still be a mother and come to see the twins on a regular basis, but Pancho didn’t like that people would think she cared. He was telling people she was a horrible mother and person. If she came to see them and loved them people would think she was good. He couldn’t have that, and he put her on child support. Whenever she crossed eight mile, as soon as she got behind, he would have her arrested. His own cousin told me that.
When I came home from prison, he wouldn’t stop either. He was convinced and still convinced Patricia, and I were lovers. He is bi-sexual and wants the world to be bi-sexual, too. Every chance he gets, he tries to put me with a woman. I don’t swing both ways, it goes against God’s Word. I let people do what they want to do, it’s just me. So, when I came home, I wasn’t who he thought I would be. He has never stopped harassing me. I got tired of it, and went to the Chief of Police to make a complaint, and he charged me with stalking him. That’s when I went to Oakland County Jail and was picked out for prostitution and made an enemy of all the deputies who work the Annex. I’m harassed constantly. When I tried to complain to Lt. Robert Ford, he called one Tuesday morning to say if I made another complaint, he would send me back to jail.
People are always talking about how bad White people are, and they are, but Black people can be bad to other Black people, too. I don’t know where Patricia is. I haven’t seen her in 30 years. “The boys”, are grown men now. I heard she got married and was an emotional wreck. I can believe it after all she’s been through. I’m an emotional wreck and I’ve never lived with Pancho or had his children. The racket is relentless and scary. The protect drug dealers, pimp prisoners and steal from local stores. I got fired from Meijer because I refused to give free groceries to mostly White patrons in the racket. They kill people, too. I spend most of my time inside. One day I left my hotel room after three or four days to go to the store, and this crazy bulldagger stepped to me and stared me directly in the eyes and wouldn’t go away. Just stood there looking at me with a grin I didn’t like. She was even blocking me in. As I walked back to the chips, I thought, “Paul.” He’s not giving up; they aren’t giving up. They’re watching me, still, but someone is watching them, too…
"They shoot from ambush at the innocent; they shoot suddenly , without fear. Thet encourage each other in evil plans, they talk about hiding their snares, they say. 'Who will see it?' They plot injustice and say,'"We have devised the perfect plan!' Surely the human heart and mind is cunning."
Psalm 64:10
Monday, March 17, 2025
Pancho I
I met Paul “Pancho” McDougall the winter of 1990. I was hanging out with his best friend, John. We were in his den watching television when we heard a knock at the door. It was Pancho coming for a visit. He walked to the back room where we were sitting and took a seat at the other end of the couch. He had a 40 oz. Budweiser, I guess he got from his job. He still wore his work clothes and seemed tired. I guess back then he was still delivering beer to local party stores, and I guess it took a lot out of him that day. He admitted in front of me that he was hiding from his girlfriend and that he had walked over from his grandmother’s house around the block. He didn’t feel like arguing with his girlfriend, and when she called, to tell her that he wasn’t there. In about 15 minutes after his arrival, she called. “Hey…Nah, he ain’t here.” He was silent for a bit, while she talked about what was going on. Then John ended the conversation by reiterating that he hadn’t seen Paul and didn’t know where he was. He sits still like if he moved, she would hear him and know that he was there. I sat still, too. Whoever his girlfriend was, she had him hiding out. That meant she was tough and from the looks of him, he was running on all amps and couldn’t survive a fight with her that night. I thought if she showed up, I would be an accomplice and maybe he would let me have it, too. At that moment, we sat still and let John handle it. Like the pro he is, he did his best friend’s duties and lied through his teeth. Paul took a couple of swigs of his “forty” and gazed into the TV with relief he had dodged that bullet. Taking another swallow, he settled in.
After about 15 minutes, he was asleep. I looked over at him and thought, “He does look like Dewayne Wayne from A Different World”. He had flip-ups and everything, just like the popular television character. I also felt sorry for him. He couldn’t even go home and sleep comfortably in his own bed. John looked him, and was also sorry for his friend, and said, “Dang, my boy tired!” I look at him and said, “He did right to hide. She must be something else. Should I get him a blanket?” “Nah, he’ll be okay.” John motioned to dismiss the gesture. He looked so pitiful. That’s how I felt for him, until about a year later, when I met Patricia.
Patricia is Puerto Rican and beautiful. We met at the old women’s clothing store “Hit or Miss”. The first day we met, she had on this black skirt a black leopard print blouse and a thick black belt around her waist with a pair of saddle boots on. I looked at her like, “Who is this woman?” That outfit was interesting to say the least. As soon as I got the chance, I would tell her what I was thinking. It was lunch time or something, I asked a question and ended with, “Vennesa del Rio” and smiled. Now, Patricia has a thick Spanish accent. She’s Puerto Rican, but she grew up in Texas, San Antonio with a bunch of Mexicans. She had identical-twin brothers that looked White but speak fluent Spanish. Mostly, she said she spoke Tex-Mex, and her mother hated it. She lost her mother when she was 16. She and her brothers were separated after she died. Patricia moved around. Being treated unfairly and being used. She met a family that used her and had her sleeping in their basement. They forced her to pay them rent and just mistreated her badly all around. She left them when she got pregnant with her son. She felt that she didn’t want to raise him in a basement and got an apartment for the two of them. Then one day she met her long-lost sister and moved in with her and her daughter. They had their issues, but she was with family and that was better than strangers. Then one day she met Pancho, and they started hanging out. Then she became pregnant. Then she found out that she was pregnant with twins. It started one day when she was four months pregnant and fell asleep in the middle of the day. Pancho was calling her. She told me she was just sleeping hard, because she is pregnant. Pancho took off from work, drove to Detroit and in her words, “Kicked {her} my ass.” I couldn’t believe it. The guy who came to John’s house that night.
“Pancho-Paul-McRick”, that’s what John had called him the night he fled to his house. It took her about a year to tell me she was in an abusive relationship. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t feel sorry for him anymore because he was a monster. All she ever talked about was Paul. Paul…Paul…Paul was al she would say at work all day. When he walked into the store, he had given up on the flip-ups and had on regular glasses, but it was him. When he had left, I said, “Oh, you go with Pancho-Paul-McRick? She didn’t speak English well, but she had the “ghetto” expression down. She gave me one and exclaimed, “Who!” I made a face of my own, “Pancho-Paul-McRick. That’s what John calls him”. She still was looking at me crazy. I asked, “Do you know John?” She relaxed and I believe I told her the story about him hiding out, because she said the ex was a horrible girlfriend. She was happy about the story and told me Pancho got tired of her being so obsessive. When she finally told me about the abuse, I asked if he beat that ex. She told me that he tried, but she fought back. I think she won, too, due to the night he hid out with John and me. I asked her why she didn’t fight back. She told me that she did, but it was worse when she fought back, so she’d just curled up in a ball, protecting her face and waited for him to stop hitting and kicking her.
I should have known something was wrong, because one night, well morning when he came home late, she put on his winter jacket and walked to my house. She lived in Crystal Lake Apartments. I lived near the Lighthouse off Woodward. She walked, in the dark and in the cold, getting away from him. My mother called out to me, “…Somebody is knocking at the door”! I got up and let her in. We sat up and talked four a few hours. I gave her my bed and slept on the couch. The next morning, before he came to pick her up, he and I talked. She hadn’t told me about the abuse yet. I told him she was ungrateful, and she needed to appreciate him more. He is a master narcissist and psychopath. He had fooled me and against her. I would never believe it, until I saw it for myself. The last beating. She came over and showed me the results. It was just nasty. The bruises on her arms were blurple. A mix of black and purple. Triangles the print of his shoes where he had kicked her in the back. She had no one here, but me and no one else. He had his family and had turned them against her. She went back home to her sister who had taken her back in. They had fallen out, because her sister had lost her job and had asked Patricia to use another address to get aid. She had been using her sister’s address and was getting cash and food benefits. So, it wasn’t a fairytale for my friend. He wasn’t taking care of her; they had been taking care of each other. Plus, all those late nights he claimed to be out with the Bud Girls, he was with other women.
Pancho thought Patricia was dumb. That thick accent could make someone believe it, but she was smart. He had gotten a promotion at Budweiser, and they had updated their pagers. He laid the paperwork on the pager program on the counter and went to lie down. Patricia got it and learned how to check his messages, she was so good, she taught me how to do it, so I could check his messages while she was at work. Her work phone wouldn’t let her do it. I checked all the guys’ voicemails who worked at Budweiser. That’s what ended it, because he was cheating. There was at least three other women. His new job had him traveling around Oakland County putting taps in bars. The waitresses were too much for him to resist and Patricia was pissed, because she was mostly at home alone and when he was home he was beating her up!
"Beware of fake men who come in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves...Every good tree bears good fruit, and every bad tree, bad fruit."
Matthew 7:15
Saturday, March 15, 2025
The Asian Connection
Fifteen years ago, when I was forced to reside in Oakland County Jail (OCJ), an Asian woman was rare, but they had one and her name was Lisa. She was bi-polar with manic tendencies. This meant she was a kind of a menace to society. She was a menace to OCJ, too, but they appreciated her more that the city of Lake Orion did. See, when in a manic phase you’re not only violent, abusive and have insomnia, but you’re sexual prowess is also heightened. Lisa had tortured various people in Lake Orion, due to not taking her medication. After she stopped her car in the middle of a busy street and refused to move, until her “boyfriend” got out of her truck. At that point, a judge felt it necessary to have Lisa be court ordered to take a shot once a month, instead of trusting her to take her medication every day like prescribed. If she missed her appointment for one month, the clinic calls the police, and they would take her to jail for her shot. Not to the clinic, but to jail. They had to use that tactic, because although Asian women were highly profitable, they are good. They are taught to be passive and humble and not resist authority, Confucianism. Lisa was Chinese and neither passive nor humble. She was mentally ill. Only when they were brought to the jail for a shot wasn’t manic. She felt like herself and didn’t need the shot, but she did. She was calm and civilized. The times she was acting crazy was manic Lisa, hot and horny who would have sex with a deputy male or female for Hungry Howie’s cheesy bread sticks.
>p> Asians weren’t the only group that were scarce in the jail, Mexicans and Chaldeans stay out of trouble for the most part. Ever since “Full Metal Jacket” Asian women had become a novelty amongst men who buy sex. When Lisa was bored and trying to be funny, she would stand in her door and yell, “Me sucky, sucky…Me so horny…Me love you long time!” Over the last 10 years those massage parlors have been popping up in Oakland County. Like the one that was raided the other day in Farmington Hills. They don’t have hustle Lisa into jail anymore they have buildings with tons of Lisas. I know OCSD got something to do with them, because an Asian woman tried to run me of the road at the corner of Opdyke and South Boulevard. She thought she as going to get away. I chased her to the light at South Boulevard and Crooks, right where the Kroger is on the right. She got on her phone and texted someone. I got that license plate number; she had a handicap tag. I spoke to myself, “They have gotten deep into the Asian women. They have truly moved out of the jail and into the neighborhoods. These cities are being affected by the prostitution ring. This business backed into an entire neighborhood. It’s the place Kelli Bryant lived in. She worked at UWM for a minute, and she works there as a hooker, too.
"Sampson went to Gaza, and there he saw a harlot and he went to her..."
Judges 16:1
Friday, March 14, 2025
How Much? The Kelli Bryant Welfare Case
On the flip side of that these women are spoiled. Trustees and the women in Max get store every week. That’s chips, pastries, pickles and stuff. They have HOT FOOD. You can get hamburgers, wedges, calzones, nuggets and more! They give you pop, too. Pepsi. When the women are somebody’s whore the get Coke and Fanta and outside food, like Aranci. Those Italian rice balls. We were talking about them one day and Mr. Beane’s girlfriend said she was going to get some and a Coke. Somebody told, it wasn't me, and when they were delivered to “the bubble", the Sergeant was in there. So, I sat there and watched Beane eat the Aranci and guzzle the Coke. Someone as nosey as I am called out, “Aaaah! Seargent is in there, Mr. Beane is eating her stuff! Aaaaah!” I could hear people moving to their food slot to watch, too. I just watched his fat butt eat those fried balls; no pun intended. When they leave there, they also can have what they want.
That includes getting on welfare. I have been talking to people on Facebook, and we all know MDHHS don’t give cash benefits no more. We all want to know how Kelli gets $30,000 in five years. That’s $500 a month. MDHHS is not giving away that kind of money. She’s not the only one. The benefits are supposed to stop. It’s the job of the jail to contact MDHHS to stop the benefits. If a man/woman is getting money or EBT benefits, and they are a “money maker” their stamps are left on. While they’re in jail making money, they are collecting money and food benefits on their card. When they get home, they can sell their food stamps and get high immediately or sell them to get money on their books. In this case, Kelli isn’t just a “money maker”, she’s Superstar. Looking at her Facebook page, I know she’s a Superstar! She gets whatever she wants. I’ve said that MDHHS is 100% under the control of the OCSD. This situation proves it. You’re telling me that for five years MDHHS didn’t have to see those kids and just gave her $500 a month. I don’t mean no disrespect, but this girl is lazy. I must recertify every six months. I can’t believe she did that. She barely remembered to feed her kids. She wasn’t being monitored; she was on autopay.
Let you tell you, my story. As I said, once I found out I knew about the prostitution, they sent me to the Forensic Center and made me insane. At one point, Martha Anderson let me go, because the Prosecutor lied and didn’t have a victim for over a year. She was willing to give me a "Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity" plea. They are trying to give Kelli, that now. They have sex parties at the Forensic Center, too. I was ecstatic to go home. They starve you in jail. Food is another thing they use to get you to prostitute. That Crumbley lady got so fat in jail. I think she's a prostitute, and her son wasn't missing any meal either. Deputy Tate ushered him into the courtroom, every time. He made sure the kid stayed quiet. Tate stays in the clinic, running "the girls" They were letting that woman see her son. She talked him into taking that plea. TATE, "Head Pimp", let them talk, face-to-face. While there, I got a call from Social Security. They said I had been approved for Social Security. They said I needed a payee, I chose my mother, and we had to appear at their office. The man at the office told me if I said I pay my mother rent I would get more money. My mother said $100 was fine. So, I got a few dollars more. He had cheated me out of about $200. He felt guilty, too, because when they hadn’t paid me for the rent, I called angry, and he immediately put $600 in my checking account. Don’t let them tell you they can’t pay you instantly; they can! He did. With back-pay, he gave me all my money. From $400 to $600 and something. I never knew until I was talking to people about it. That’s just the first time I was shorted, but they tried to get me cut-off SSI several times or cut into my amount by breaking the rules.
Their best girls, usually the ones that get psychotropic medication, while in jail, get on SSI, too. Once they go to CNS and start working for the pimp,James Patton, they get SSI, too. When they go to jail, their SSI is supposed to stop, but it never does. Not only does mine stop, but they try to make me pay for the last month I was paid, before I went in jail The rule is, you have to be in jail 30-days, before your checks stop. If you go to jail anytime after the first, you are entitled to that check for that month. Not me, I had to get my check garnished. They waved it three times. Three times I went back-and-forth on my case, each time they said I was overpaid and started taking a portion of my check for restitution. I always had to fight it.
"Wisdom will save you also from the adulterous woman, from the wayward woman with her seductive words…" Proverbs 2:16
Tuesday, March 11, 2025
FROZEN: The Monica & Me Story
The Oakland County Sheriff's Department tried to kill me twice. The first time, I had a stroke after eating salty chicken wings from China Jade. They claimed my blood glucose was 536 and that had caused me to have a stroke. I had been diagnosed with diabetes in the winter of 2015. It was Christmas time, and I was so thirsty. With it being the holiday we had a lot of pop in the house. I’m thirsty, we have pop, and I used it to quench my thirst. That was a horrible choice, because it only made my “diabetes” worse. I would be put on a medication that causes diabetes in patients. Then put on another medication that causes diabetes, it’s hard to find a psychotropic medication that doesn’t have the potential to give a patient diabetes. My niece is on the same medication, and she is now diabetic. Poisoning my food and giving me a stroke and blaming it on my condition is convenient. I’m not the only one. Kim, Tammy, Debra and the kid hit on his bike on Baldwin. People die, messing with OCSD. There were several murders on Baldwin that were suspicious during these 15 years I’ve known about the corruption in the Oakland County Sheriff's Department (OCSD), including the death of Vernon a childhood friend from “The Projects”. When I first watched the story of Monica Cannady on television, I asked myself if she could be an OCJ girl. The idea that she thought the police was trying to kill her is not lost on me. This racket is huge and the in the white cars, trucks and SUV’s are real, too. They’ve been following me for 25 years. I worked at Sears from 1998-2002. That’s the color of the cars many of the managers drove. It’s a sign that you belong to their gang of thieves that stole from the store and took it “Up North” to sell.
These people are everywhere. I don’t go to Walmart, anymore. It was easy to follow me and harass me there. Everywhere I go they are there. I have a hard time going anywhere, because they always want me to know they are there. They like to go before me and let people know I’m coming. They told my friend’s husband when ICE came to get him that it was me who turned him in and that I’m FBI. Everywhere I go, they’re there, my phone is tapped they follow me either with an apparatus in my car the GPS on my phone, they are consistent and overbearing. It’s something out of a movie. These people have a lot to lose. It’s not just prostitution, but drugs, theft and government entities. If Monica was at the edge, they could easily push her over the edge. I remember almost having a breakdown, because I had a white vehicle problem. They were everywhere. They try to make crash scenarios, speed pass you down the road, move slowly down the road and create chaos on the road in general. They love to act like they are going to run into you from a side street or when you're making a left turn. It is very scary to drive. They love to say people are crazy, and nothing they say can be looked at as true. They made sure when I left the jail that I was deemed insane. I’ve been institutionalized a total of four times due to police misconduct. That includes the time in prison. One day you take a ride to the Forensic Center, and the next thing you know, you’re legally insane. I get a check every month and I’ve earned every penny. The first thing they do is call you crazy. They have the resources to make it true. When you have a charge, and can’t bail, you are the property of OCJ. What they write about you and send to the judge is deemed true, even if it’s a bunch of lies. Whatever law enforcement says is bond. Never mind they are liars and lie all the time, and it’s legal. How can you tell someone who can do and say what they want without being questioned. They ruin my name all the time.They've ruined Monica, even her family says she was crazy. Once again crazy means "liar".
The second time they tried to kill me they would take their time. Let’s start by saying that the racket has a lot of “tricks” at the hospital. Doctors have so much money. I’m telling you that hospitals are “hot beds” for prostitution, and the idea that OCSD found her there is no surprise to me. They have snitches everywhere and one of them in that hospital called to tell OCSD she was there. St. Joe is now Trinity Health. I have changed doctors at least four times over the last 10 years since I discovered I had diabetes. All of them were infiltrated by OCSD and the racket. At St. Joe, I was still treated for diabetes and high blood pressure. The doctor claimed my cholesterol was being managed well. It was always my A1C and blood pressure. I was on four blood pressure medications. One of those medications is Amlodipine. The doctor who had taken over my case thus far said that it caused swelling in the legs and helped patience with heart issues. He made it clear that I didn’t have heart problems, but he was using it to get my blood pressure under control. Even changing my diet and taking my medications, it was always 10-15 points higher than the average blood pressure. I was on four blood pressure meds that were slowly killing me and giving me a heart problem. I had low blood pressure. I would be at work like I was going to pass out. When I told my doctor at Trinity Health, he asked me what medications I was on, and I couldn’t remember, he rushed me spitting, “If you can’t tell me what medication you are on, I can’t tell you if you have low blood pressure”. I pointed to the laptop he was holding and asked him, “Aren’t they in my file?” He was nasty and snipped, “No!”
I kept taking my medicine as prescribed. I was scared if I didn’t, I would be harming myself and deemed insane. It just takes a crooked judge to lock me in a mental institution for the fifth time. I was still taking my medication, going to work feeling that my heart was going to stop beating all at once. When my psychiatric nurse practitioner took me off one of my blood pressure medications. She just opened our appointment with the declaration she thought I was on too much blood pressure medication, and she was taking away half of my anxiety medication. It as the stuff I need. I was shocked, because they switched nurse practitioners when I took a stress leave from work, because of mt anxiety at the job. See, they control most stores in Oakland County and a lot of them came into the store. They lost me my job, but they didn’t want me to claim mental distress, which was exactly what I was feeling. They had CNS get rid of the beloved doctor and gave me the one I have, now. It seems that they don’t have a hold onto her as they thought. She wasn’t willing to be involved with a murder.
This is what I think would have happened. I would have gone to work one day and passed out due to the low blood pressure and an ambulance would have taken me to the hospital and I would never have made it out. The second time they tried killing my mother, she refused to go to the hospital. I begged her, she wouldn’t keep anything in. She was 81 years old and was losing weight, every day. She still just lay in the bed and waited for it to pass. They had poisoned her wine. Yep, they’ll get you with things bottled. I bought this hair care treatment, and I was using it, but it wasn’t causing my hair to grow, but making it fall out. “Pancho” wants me bald so badly. He wants my man. I think he’s still mad about John. Monica wasn’t crazy but probably being harassed for whatever reason she believed. I know I wouldn’t stop talking about what they tried to do to me and what they did to others. They’ve gotten my book off Amazon, everybody was scared to buy it, anyway. Facebook is supposed to be shutting down my pages every day. Today, they took down my Three Kids and a Racket part II blog. I can’t share and tag people in other parts of the country. If I tag my brother in California or my cousins in NYC or Atlanta, they take it down immediately. Don’t want me to go nationwide.
They broke the link to my blog on my Facebook page. Google is posted chronologically. If you Google me, my latest blog won’t appear. Stuff from 2002 and 2010 will all appear. Nothing about what I wrote about the OCSD. I have over 200 blogs. across two pages. Yaktownlaisly an Other Stuff and Wanawake. A page I created for my Marketing class at Walsh College. My slumlord, Clyde Kemp stole my diploma one day while rummaging through my stuff and gave it to “Pancho” who took it to Walsh and claimed it was fake. They told him that it was real. I have a Masters; he didn’t take that one. “Pancho” thought he had fixed my chances at a degree. My Operation teacher did flunk me unfairly, but Walsh’s secrets are greater than he is evil and diabolical. My slumlord filed for eviction, after I got in Pontiac’s escrow program. He said that my tub had overflowed and caused damage downstairs. I knew that a woman and her daughter had lived downstairs. He had came upstairs asking me about water running in my apartment, because there was a leak downstairs. I didn’t have a leak, but my tub had been drip-dropping since I moved in. In a couple of weeks, she and her daughter moved. I was coming home one night, and they were moving. He had shown me the teenaged girl as a potential lover. He presented her, after I called him “old”, after he cussed me out about the trash. He had filled all the bins, and I had met him downstairs to show him the situation. Suddenly, he walked over and knocked on their door. A young teenager opened the door, and he stretched the screen and looked back at me and put on an evil grin. I stood there and the young teenager, and I had the same look on our face, “What?”
I had never seen her before and haven’t seen her since. Clyde was calling himself telling me I was old, and he had fresh meet downstairs. This teen was barely 12 years old. I really don’t know why they moved so suddenly. He made me sign a year lease. She was there about six months. Maybe the leak was too much, maybe he came on to the teen. After he made his accusation, I needed to talk to her. She could tell the court that he was lying, and the leak had been there before July 13, 2024. Her mail was coming to my address now and I had learned her name, Fay Alexander. A Further search on Facebook and I found out she also used Cannady. I saw her at a balloon release. I kept reading and discovered she’s a relative of Monica Cannady, the woman that froze in a field in Pontiac. That teenager was the little girl who had survived that night. I was shocked. I had been messaging her family or who I thought was her family on Facebook. No one would answer me. Her family, people I’ve known for 40+ years took their message button off their Facebook page, and I blocked them. Now, it’s a guarantee I won’t ask them any more questions. I believe she is akin to the slunlord's girlfriend. I started writing her family telling them I didn't want to talk about the death of Monica, but Fay's and my slumlord, Clyde Kemp. Who has been getting help from OCSD from the beginning of our landlord tenant proceeding. proceedings. They have CPS and MDHHS on their team.
slumlord, Clyde Kemp. Still, I got no reply. I have two friends who have either recently died or had a stroke this month. The one friend and I worked at a store that she had worked at for over 20 years, and the racket has been stealing out of since it’s inception in 1988. My other friend had an aneurysm and stroke. She and I collaborated to send her low-down African husband back to Senegal. They came and got him and told him that he had to stay with my friend, because he had two other wives. He couldn’t just keep marrying women and keeping his green card and stay in America. That wrote her death warrant as soon as she left him and changed her name. If she died of natural causes, he could marry again and stay in the country. Everyone they kill die of a seizure, heart attack or stroke. Then they told him the biggest lie. He was told I’m FBI. FBI can't stand me. I write and tell them they aren't doing their job. It's been 15 years and so many deaths. My friend, not wanting him to know she was in it with me, cut me off. Claimed she was mad I told one of her best friends her African was having sex with their daughter. Yes, his daughter from his loins. They sleep with their sister’s too in Senegal. She had a 43% chance at living. She made it! Thank you, Jesus! They flew her up to Flint, they’d killed her at St. Joe or Osteopathic/McClaren. They would have finished the job. That’s what my mother knew when se got sick. The sheriff’s put Fay up with the slumlord, Clyde Kemp. They set me up with him, too. I didn’t like him at 16 and I don’t like him at 54. I worked and used that as extra money. When they took my job, I got unemployment. When I got into the escrow program that made them mad. I keep winning and they keep causing me to lose. Ain’t God good? Isn’t He the majesty we all want and need? I think Job said it best:
“Though they slay me, yet will I trust Him!”
Job 13:15
Saturday, March 8, 2025
Three Kids and a Racket III
I hate to say tell y’all, but I told you so. Today, while I slept, Cynthia Walker (pictured above) set Kelli Bryant free. You might say, “All she did was lower her bond”. Look, the bail bondmen are in on this, too. She was probably set her free as soon as she got back to the jail. Bondsmen like sex, too. I didn’t hear of it when I was in jail being harassed and abused, but those men/women are probably working for them as sex workers. Believe me, she’s already at home. She’s to hot to stay in there. They have numerous places for her to work. That’s where she has been for the last five years. Probation is in on the game, too. She’ll leave her home to “work”. Those women in probation are worst than the men! They will get her off that life sentence, too. That will shrink to probation, watch. Cynthia Walker found a reason to throw me out of my home. I didn’t do anything to be thrown out of my home. I’ve been living in a hotel for the last two months. My apartment has no heat! That should have been enough to get a stay on the eviction and get a new trial. It’s okay, however, my landlord was a sexual deviant who worked for the pimps at the Oakland County Jail. Plus, he wanted to have sex with me for rent. So, I’m good… This is my slumlord Clyde Kemp.
The locks on my door to keep him out when I'm there and when I'm away. After I put the chain on to keep him out when I'm away, he would open the door at nught and put crazy glue in its keyhole. I had to pour hot water in the keyhole to leave, so I put the bottom lock on, so he couldn't open the door at all.
I tried to put a Personal Protection Order out on my slumlord. First the judge, Julie McDonald, refused to hear my complaint. After I refused to give up, she granted my motion to reconsider but gave it to a visiting judge. They do that when they want to do dirt. I have filed investigations on visiting judges, too, with the Judicial Tenure Commission (JTC). All you need to do is get a notary to sign the request. I wrote two today. I’m not playing and if you read of my death, I have all my evidence written in blogs, complaints and investigations. This girl is free after leaving her kids in filth and I’m homeless for not letting a serial rapist in my home. He’s never been convicted of rape, but he acts like one. He’s been coming in my apartment from the first day I moved in. Filtering through my trash, and when I refused to put it out, he came into my house and stole it while I was sleeping. I left a copy of the PPO I had filed and put it in with my file at the court. So, either they read it and ignored it, or the clerks took it out of my file, because they do favors for the OCSD. I also put the complaint in my file I made with Fair Housing of Metro-Detroit. They’re another kind of whore at 50th District Court. It told why I didn’t want my landlord in my apartment. If they took it out my file was completely empty at one point. It’s still the Chief Judge’s problem. I filed a complaint with the Court Administrator. His name is The woman who works the cash office was surely one of “the girls”. She is stealing all our money. Yep, the chick with Auburn hair. This is Steve Tomkowiak. He came into Pontiac telling the citizens of Pontiac how great the escrow program is, now he won't return my calls.
I told my man that I wanted to go to jail. I’d have to have a bunky, because I have diabetes. I wouldn’t get to have my own cell to myself. She’s not there anymore. My man doesn’t want me there. He says I’m too old now. They don’t want me there, anyway. I will write more in there, than I do out here, Their money. They are working on their summer money now. Some of them might have kids wanting to go on Spring Break. I know Beane had girls in college, and he had bought them cars and paid for their car insurance. Kids in private school, soccer, football and the house “Up North”, boats, catamarans and jet skis. These men/women live well. It’s not just drugs, but a lavish lifestyle. I know Kelli Bryant is not just “going home”. The are showing me she still has hair, but that hair could be fake. Look at that picture of her at her arraignment. She was practically bald. It was dark, but you can see. That hair was cut like nobody cared. I told you they have women in there who can do wonders. I want to see her April 15th.
I don’t know what they will do, but whatever happens, it will be exactly what the sheriff’s deputies want to happen. Just like they punished me, having me to lose my job and my home. All punishment for not prostituting and refusing to stop talking about it. I’m messing up the Auburn Hills Police money at this hotel. It got quiet around here. It didn’t help that I sat my book outside my door. They were doing what the “Brides of OCJ” tried, harass me into becoming a sex worker. First, I bought a baseball bat. Then I thought setting my book outside my door was more assertive than beating someone with a baseball bat. I’m getting better… Tell me she ain't bald. That's weave she got in her hair now.
Monday, March 3, 2025
Three Kids and a Racket II
I did four years in prison for doing nothing. I saved a life, two lives and although I grieve the years I lost, I’m not sorry for it even if sometimes I cry and become angry. I know it was God’s will, and I must move passed it to be whole. So, I came home, and “Pancho” wouldn’t leave me alone. I went to tell the Chief of Police at the time, and he accused me of stalking him. I went to jail but posted a bond. At my preliminary hearing, I was hit because I had to get a tether. It’s a law now, all stalkers when free must wear a tether, untilntheir case is over. After the tether people took my mother’s money for money owed before I went to prison in 2004, it was now 2010, I went back to 50th District Court and turned myself in and went to jail that night. While there, I discovered the deputies were running a prostitution ring out of the jail clinic. They were selling women out the jail, and Payne, Brown and Kendall had sex parties in the gym. I mean straight up having sex, strippers, dancers and erotica. These men and women were special, mostly Trustee and people they had in Disciplinary. The men and women who engaged in these acts did so by looking at our pictures on the Oakland County website, and the inmates page where people can go and look-up people who are in jail. It’s meant to help families find lost loved ones, get out court dated, charges and bond amounts. The pimps-deputies-use it for showcasing who is available for sex. If they choose someone not housed in the right pod, they can get other inmates to start a fight. Then the selected one is moved to the right pod to be pimped out. I was in the right pod, disciplinary, and I had been picked a lot from my mugshot, but I wasn’t having been pimped. I hadn’t done anything to anyone. I was just making a complaint to an old friend who now claims he only knew me “from around the way”. So, I digress. The women, however, tried to embarrass me, yelling “stalker” across the pod, and they were calling out for me. They tried to berate me and make me feel hopeless and defeated. These women help the deputies enlist women in the game with lies a scare tactics. I was rarely called by my name by the other inmates. It was always “stalker”. When some was talking to me, they were trying to tell me I was going back to prison for a long time, because it’s the same crime I had committed before. It’s called “Habitual”. One of the best reasons to stop fighting your case is to take it to the clinic and start your life of prostitution. The jail is not where it ends. You will be able to start your new life outside of the jail. They told my girl Sal after she violated probation she was going to do 19-years in prison. I guess the chaplain missed her. It was just a scare tactic to have her prostitute, but she didn't know that. They gave her a cellmate to help her, because she was so scared and riddled with anxiety. When her bunky went to court, Sal hung herself.
Kelli Bryant is not a victim. She is the subject of the Oakland County Jail (OCJ) Effect. I don’t know if she has ever been to jail or not, but when I saw her story, I just knew this had something to do with the OCSD. Now, that I’ve looked at her Facebook pages I know she’s a sex worker. Her friends on her page are also involved with the industry. I told you the prostitution doesn’t end in the jail. They get these women jobs when they get out in the racket. Kelli Bryant is beautiful and the perfect candidate for being sold in the US and Canada. She was desperate living with those kids trying to make ends meet. The same kind of women that called me a stalker, told me that I would go to prison for a long time, tried to make me gay and keep me up all night got to her. They made her feel that the life of a sex worker was “the life”. They never told her what she had to give up. Everyone is saying she was abused by her boyfriend or raped by her father. No, Kelli Bryant has a weak mind and has given into the pressure and has thrown up her hands and said “F*ck it!” They build a comradery. When I was in jail, they’d be in the pod hugging and kissing and doing one another’s hair. You could smell the hair burning through the vents the Friday of one of Paynes parties. It’s just these young women are looking for. Somebody loves them. They believed their children would do it, but that’s too much work. When they are old and tired of running the streets and whoring their children will still love them unconditionally, but they won’t deserve it! Her father has them now, but he knew what was going on with her. He worked at Community Network Services (CNS). Remember, I said it would never end. Many women in jail are addicted, because they are self-medicating. Once they get in jail, they can get the medication they need, But some lies to use the medication to continue getting high Since they can’t get real drugs in jail, sometimes. The head ones, the girls who make them the most money get drugs. All you gotta do is be one of their moneymakers and you can get high. That’s the reason Jackson got it. If he found an inmate with drugs they caught a charge.
Kelli Bryant’s father worked at CNS. That’s who helped the women once they get out of jail. James Patton, the CNS worker over intake ran the girl who went to CNS for mental health treatment. For whatever reason, looking at Kelli Bryant’s Facebook page, she and her father stayed in touch over the years and people I talk to are convinced he knew what was going on for years. I will take it a step further and say not only did he know his grandkids were in that house, but he knew she was a sex worker. Patton has hit up every man at CNS to pay for a bl*w j*b. In fact, he was at R7 laundry mat hustling a couple of Mexican men to buy sex from him. He was eying me for a potential position, but I wanted to tell him that I had been tried before with no successful results. This Patton man has worked there for many years catching the sex worker OCJ passed along when they were finished with them. Everyone wants to know how the father got the kids. Mr. Terrance Bryant, “Greeter”. The racket includes the women and men of MDHHS. CPS in Pontiac will take the children of women who don’t cooperate with the OCJ Program. In this case, they put those kids with the grandfather, Mr. Terrance Bryant. They could be threatening to take those kids and put them in “the system”, if he even thinks about telling people in law enforcement. At any moment the State can come and take them away from him.They want to say Kelli Bryant is mentally ill. Her father has friends in the industry. I know two White women who killed Black men and got a Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity (NGRI), Oakland County is very racist. . Instead of doing Life, which in this case is supposed to be 20 years, but I don’t know her record. She would become a sex worker at the Forensic Center, first. After a couple of years, they go to a stepdown at Caro or Kalamazoo and continue prostitution there. You’ll find those girls everywhere, but mostly you can find them in the strip club, like one of Payne’s freak parties on the county’s pay week. You gotta believe these women are serious. Look what I found on her page!
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| Detective Paul McDougal-OCSD |