Trippy posts

You've read what she said now here is what she really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)

I went to Church, ain’t I great? Hopefully doing that may fool any unfortunate stumbling across this blog that I am a decent God-fearing person. It is a pity all my actions in life cannot be that of a Christian but hey ho, you can only have style, substance or neither. Guess which I have?

I must remember to mention children and whiteness in my post. They are symbols of innocence you know, like meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

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Bit of scripture here as it makes me look scholarly and holy. Apparently God loves a repentant sinner. Wonder where I can find one of those to sacrifice to him on a flaming pyre of harassment?

I am suffering from the twin encumbrances of a partially broken toe-nail and weak lifeless hair. I never talk about it you know.

On the last occasion of the last trail against me for harassment, I was unable to attend. This due to being diagnosed morally lacking by a bone doctor. Yes, you read it here, a bone doctor and I hope you are not pulling the same face of incredulous belief that the judge pulled that time as well. This time I may claim I cannot attend due to back acne or an itchy palm. So many body parts, so many excuses. On the other hand I may rely on the old excuse of being knackered, you will notice I am mentioning more and more that I am whacked in my blog. That is called 'laying the groundwork' and my blog is my defence.

Oh oh, clever clever me, no-one will ever see through this ruse. Hee hee hee.

However this will not stop me sockpuppeting as much as possible.

Meanwhile read here, as the adoration blog has pointed out some of my endearing spellerisms (girlish giggle) I have corrected them. But really, spelling is for plebs and English teachers.

I am going to publish Children’s books. That is as soon as I have destroyed my arch-nemesis the wicked witch of the North and her cohort, the webbed man. They have sent flying monkeys after me, this evil band consists of the mob of lawyers, doctors, the met, special branch, special trees, special gardeners, the media, men from Oxo-land, women from Loon Loon land, bloggers, poets, the RCJ, the whole of Cambridge, journalists, gap-year students, all the staff of DKNY, a burren of foxes, Sharon Stone, Clint Eastwood and The Eagles and a whole other cast of thousands on the internet who are all out to get me.

That will be the tale in the first book, a sort of a Harry Potter cum Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz cum Pied Piper cum Buck Rogers cum drunken ravings of the village lush outside the local at Midnight.

Pssssst: Did you know that all commentators are unemployed? I devote HOURS reading the adoration site that has been set up for me so guess how unemployable I am? Girlish grin.

Of course, it is utterly incomprehensible to me that some people work with computers and devote 10 minutes of an otherwise busy day to reading blogs. Apparantly these people devote the rest of their hours to gainful employment, children, a partner, supporting worthy causes, looking out for the welfare of people other than themselves and paying bills. Ordinary common little caterpillars. I shudder at the thought of them.

Newspell: Tipytoed, optimistic, abit


Remember, all you need is love!


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Roll after me

You've read what she said now here is what she really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)


You faithful lot.... So I am suffering from the twin encumbrances of a partially broken toe-nail and weak lifeless hair. I never talk about it you know.

(Ed. You are suffering?? why never mention this to us who adore you before?)

 That doesn't mean I am not able to sock-puppet away like a mad thing. Fear not. It wouldn't have been right not to try to make myself look popular, would it? GIRLISH SMILE



I am, now, off for a real rest from sock-puppeting and leaving remarks on the blog of the ones who adore me.

Just had my first egg from everyone in the house, it is going to take me ages to wash it out of my hair. Bless them, they never tire of hearing me go on about my twin encumbrances of
a partially broken toe-nail and weak lifeless hair.

Newspell: scribbed

Remember, all you need is love!


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Bags of boo hoo

You've read what she said now here is what she really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)

Please note reading rodents that the blogger Manchester United has nothing to do with this site.

They do not know who the site is run by and the people who run the site do not know him/her in any capacity.

Wonder who she will accuse of running the site next?

She has quite a list of people to choose from including (but not limited to) ex-lawyers, doctors, the met, special branch, special trees, special gardeners, the media, men from Oxo-land, women from Loon Loon land, bloggers, poets, the RCJ, the whole of Cambridge, journalists, gap-year students, all the staff of DKNY, a burren of foxes, Sharon Stone, Clint Eastwood, The Eagles, Manchester United and a whole other cast of thousands on the internet who are all out to get her or all out having a life one or the other.

In the meantime we salute her fortitude in hoisting herself up on the petards she needs to walk, struggling down the road to the internet cafe, sharing her insights and comments here, sharing with the undeserving the true meaning of children's tales, following this up with sock-puppet comments and being drunk on cider whilst being in control of a moving blog.

All this despite the twin incumberances of a partially broken toe-nail and weak lifeless hair.

She must have been such an inspiration to Heather Mills as she is to all of us.

Remember, all you need is love!


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We are all ready

Readers will be relieved to know that JLF's partially broken toe-nails and her weak lifeless hair do not stop her from going to the internet cafe and logging on to read here several times a day.

What a brave, energetic, suffering-in-silence heroine she is. She never says a word about it you know. She just writes it.



Those of a horrid cynical nature will of course try to point out that the times of her being online and looking at streamsofuttergoo (We're not worthy) were the same times that her blog received comments. They may claim this infers that the same person wrote those comments as was reading this blog from the IP we know JFL uses.

Others might speculate as to how someone with partially broken toe-nails and weak lifeless hair would have the energy and motivation to blog as these are normally incapacitating illnesses.

Some may even go as far as to doubt she is telling the truth.

Well shame on you!

Just because you have proof you doubting-Thomas' does not mean you have a case. Look at our heroine, she is building an appeal without substance after being convicted of months and months of stalking people. Let that be your guide as to her integrity.

An empty shell of a life

You've read what she said now here is what she really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)

Empty shell in the shade SMILE

My partially broken toe-nails and my weak lifeless hair situation is on-going. It is all the fault of those people I stalked, those I refused to pay for their services, those I bombarded with phone calls and emails and those whose comments boxes I filled up with my own brand of garbage. ALL,THEIR,FAULT.

I could do without seeing the 'goings on' on the web and in the press unfortunately I cannot resist reading them every day, after all they mention MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. SMILE. No-one forces me to read them, in fact some even go private so I can't but they are still leading me into temptation. I may spend ages commenting on them but they are libellous. Even thought they have not cost me a loss in earnings. I never had that to begin with. Never fear fans, I am still so in denial about the original stalker blog being deleted because I made false accusations against people on it. So that is all right then.

There is a whole team on the case for me.


Where the hell are the supportive emails I am entitled to?? Oh never mind, I’ll write them to myself. Might as well throw in the odd dozen or so comments while I am at it.

*****

I’ll mention here the name of another blogger who has not written of me or thought about me in ages. I like doing this. HOW,VERY,DARE,THEY. With a bit of luck, it will provoke a row which I can use for my defence to prove they are all out to get me. Clever, clever little ole me. It is a ruse I have used over and over again in relation to the mob of ex-lawyers, doctors, the met, special branch, special trees, special gardeners, the media, men from Oxo-land, women from Loon Loon land, bloggers, poets, the RCJ, the whole of Cambridge, journalists, gap-year students, all the staff of DKNY, a burren of foxes, Sharon Stone, Clint Eastwood, The Eagles, Manchester United and a whole other cast of thousands on the internet who are all out to get me.

I continually wonder why my legal team (all 10,000 of them) have not had these people shipped to Guantanamooooooo Island. I must dictate to them tomorrow to do this.

I am working in awful circumstances, none of which are my fault. The solicitors insist on going to their country houses every weekend and I am here in this hostel. The sandwich supply has dried up too. Dammit.

Newspell: Thankyou, queueing, alot

Remember, all you need is love!

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God, I've had an idea

Here is what the angel-hellic one really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)

I have a new line on my defence. Some random loon (of the religious kind) has been sending me messages via a tardis-like time travelling sat nav device which can take control of cars. This gave me an idea.

I have a new defense for when I go into court, I am going to say it is not me that got myself into this situation by spending more time stalking and stealing rather than working, it was God who has brought all this about. It is because he loves me and he wants to make me strong.

I, really, believe, that. (Snigger)

It will blow the prosecution away when I mention my new bezzie mate God in court. Who cares if I am telling the truth or not? Just call me Hamlet!


Here is photographic proof of my close working relationship with God

Note to self: In the meantime, I had better keep mentioning my partially broken toe-nails and my weak lifeless hair. I may yet decide that I do not want to turn up in court at all. After all, courts are full of people who work for the (choke) law. Discusting common little caterpillars.

I wonder if my coiffeuse would agree to give me a sick note? The court refused to accept the one from the bone doctor but they might be fooled by this one. After all, everyone knows that a mobile hairdresser can diagnose stress and exhaustion as well as a psychologist can help someone needing psychiatric care.

Remember, all you need is love!

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If life gives your admirers lemons ...

Here is what she really means: (Free translation service provided by All_you_need_is_love)

..... then accuse them of being bitter (Ed. no. 456 - shouldn't that be 'let them make lemonade')

If your stalking means you lose your house and have to live in a hostel in London with people with mental health problems, then look down on them and complain about them.

For instance, Imagine the CHEEK of someone else here who makes false allegations to the authorities about another person. What an an invasive, sabotaging and harassing person. ** (Ed. no. 342 - Terrible person, they should be stopped at ONCE or around May time)

Imagine me having the effect on someone of making them shout 'unclean' and think of creatures who normally live in the sewers. I mean, me???

This person also pretends to talk endless to her solicitors on the phone and claims falsely to be upset and ill. She also claims she is tired of being the stalker. Oooh that is a good line, I might use that. Then again, I might not. Remember, my blog is my defense. Like me, it is full of supposition but completely clueless.



After all, it is the fault of a mob of lawyers, doctors, the met, special branch, special trees, special gardeners, the media, men from Oxo-land, women from Loon Loon land, bloggers, poets, the RCJ, the whole of Cambridge, journalists, gap-year students, all the staff of DKNY, a burren of foxes, Sharon Stone, Clint Eastwood, The Eagles and the CPS, I am here, right?

Note to self: Don't forget to keep mentioning your tiredness, weakness, sadness and stress.

Anyhow, I've lost patience with this woman, I mean sympathy for the mentally ill, pshaw and plulesseeee! Especially someone a condition that usually stems from a severe childhood trauma like sexual abuse or seeing a parent killed. I am the only important person here, my comfort and concern are paramount, not that of some loony. Och, I am off to chop up caterpillars, it is my only joy nowadays.

Remember, all you need is love!

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