Trance Formation of America

I recently read Trance Formation of America, The True Life Story of a CIA Mind Control Slave by Cathy O’Brien with Mark Phillips. First off, this book is disgusting. I used to read a lot of graphic erotica of a darker nature, so I was able to get through this book. I suspect many others will not be able to. Secondly, I don’t believe a word of it.

Sure I believe that Ms. O’Brien was probably sexually abused as a child, this would explain her insanity. This book is the rambling on a paranoid schizophrenic and her enabler. They are having the conspiracy world on for a con.

My favorite part of the book is when Ms. O’Brien says that when she was a child, Gerald Ford inserted an American Flag into her rectum and made her wave it. Really now. The woman claims to have been sexually used and abused by everybody and anybody (whilst skipping over the entire Carter Administration) who was in politics from the late sixties to the early 90s. She claims to have been a drug mule who was prostituted with her “Presidential Model” programming that she received at organizations such as NASA and the Temple of Set. She claims that she was programmed with Disney and Wizard of Oz imagery and stories.

The way she pieces things together comes off like the way I was thinking when I was getting little to no sleep for years. The bitch is bonkers.

I cannot recommend this book. These Project Monarch people are full of shit.

23

One time when I was 23 I got so drunk on tequila then I was all “I’m gonna stick my hand in this toilet!” and my friend Claudia was all, “No you aren’t!.” Proved the bitch wrong.

Morning Train is one of the worst songs ever recorded, but Strut, well, that’s a classic.

Here’s another classic!:

I was the only girl in my class who knew George was a big ol Moe. Gay older brother over here! Don’t get me started on the girls and Boy George. Stupid bitches.

When we got a couple years older, I did get confused about these guys:

I’m still not sure. All those chicks on the Rock of Love bus looked like drag queens.

Another Girl’s Paradise

My friend is living in one of my old fantasies. I’m not mad about it. At least I don’t have a kid, certainly don’t need to be a single mom. Her Man is my Boy. My body and my blood, she has taken my flesh. She can have him, I don’t want him, never really did. Just an old fantasy. My old fantasies reek of self-loathing and desperation and fear. I don’t need to play the main role in them. I just wish the people around me would choose their OWN paths, but I guess once something has been written someone has to play the part.

I’m impressed that I now have such good recollection that I can spot them so quickly. My brain is certainly working well these days. My genitals, well… whatever. I guess I need a boyfriend with a low sex drive, or maybe a girlfriend who just wants to cuddle. Nah, I’m over the girlfriend crap.


Mariah looked so much better before she got those ridiculous implants.

I really wanted Michael Lipford. I mean, I just instant messaged with him, nothing sexual at all, and my pussy opened up. But Old Scratch showed up and confused me and I walked away from a perfectly good man, and I was baby hungry at the time. Mike and I would have had a beautiful child. The things that being dickmatized will do to a girl. Now I’m too fat and drugged up on psych meds to even want sex.

Dreamed last night that a JuJu woman washed both my mother’s and my hair. When she got to mine, put my head in her basin of red wash, and as she was washing she said something about Jesus, and that thing that comes and bothers me during my dreams sometimes (it growls at me, bites me, scratches me), well I felt it leave my head. After she was done I felt it trying to get back inside my body, so I kept on calling for Jesus to save me. Interesting. They say that if you call on Jesus during an alien visitation that the experience will stop instantly.

(This Ariana Grande chick has as much hair as I do! People always think I have extensions. Nope. I wonder if she does?)

sexy satan

Black Magick

Here’s my recipe to smell like Black Magick:

After your shower, rub in a strongly-scented cocoa butter lotion into skin. Vaseline’s is great!
Spritz Calvin Klein’s Obsession for women on your arms, armpits, crotch.
Lightly spray yourself with Perfumer’s Workshop Tea Rose.
Rub a little White Linen oil behind your ears,
And voila! You smell like Black Magick.

http://earthsky.org/brightest-stars/sirius-the-brightest-star

http://www.souledout.org/cosmology/sirius/siriusgodstar.html

To any Young Girl out there, if Satan starts to woo you tell him to leave you the fuck alone. He starts in your dreams. Cut it then. Don’t be mesmerized by pretty eyes.

If you are a woman like me, he will leave you dry and barren and aching. Please learn from my experience, don’t think that you can tame him. Oh he’ll pretend that you can, he’ll pretend just about anything to make you his, but he’ll NEVER be yours.

Trust in this — he’s a BAD BAD man.

dream portal

Don’t be fooled by Pan. THIS is what he REALLY is:

ugly satan

But if he gets through to you through dreams and you wind up mesmerized, he will start building sexual fantasies with you. You will disassociate from reality and keep building with your “friend,” and things will get dirtier and more and more depraved. There is no love there. When you’re awake from your daydreams, you won’t realize that you had been communicating with another entity. You will just think that you were daydreaming on your own. But you AREN’T! And he DOES like ‘em young, when they’re ripe for the picking, when he starts this.

Us Young Girls have got to be careful about who we build our dreams with. That’s why I’m curious about the mind behind Baby Doc. Which Young Girl did he seduce to bring that guy up in the world? And does she know? And if she does/did, did she make it through the Suicide?

I made it because an angel carried me through gnosis, through the recovery of my memories, through The Blues, and through Suicide, because I allowed it to. What if she said no?

Barbara, Not Hillary

I dreamed last night that I was writing in this blog about how I didn’t want Hillary to run for nomination because she was such a clown, and how I’d rather have Barbara Boxer as a Presidential candidate. Then I zoomed into Bravo’s Watch What Happens Live, and Lily Rabe from American Horror Story was a guest on a panel of about 10 people as was Boxer.

Rabe was in character. She was wearing a shit ton of makeup, her hair was in a messy updo, she was twitchy like a bird, and was basically playing batshit crazy. Barbara Boxer sat next to her, and they began talking. As the show progressed and Lily kept answering every question that was asked even the ones that weren’t directed at her, Boxer became visibly disturbed. The Host, Andy Cohen, was loving it. Finally after a commercial break, Barbara sat one chair away from Rabe, and to this action Lily began to complain on air. Then they cut to these weird dance/burlesque/acrobats who were doing the bump in all sorts of dirty ways.

Lily Rabe