Lisa Jones wrote on Nov 20
th, 2021 at 11:51pm:
Dear Lord....it's the same unhinged unemployed malicious Yahoo cyber trolls who live online constantly co trolling and refreshing their multi screens every minute of every day. And they're still at it for over 15 years ( that I know of). What a waste of life I say!
Neither know what it means to hold down a real job and earn a living and pay some taxes. In fact neither knows what a real life is anymore. For both it's a virtual existence using multi ids in order to sustain a 24/7 cyber junkie addiction. Their obsession still runs across how many forums these days? 4? Or is it 5 different forums a day? I must ask their friend about that again....well the person who they think is their friend. The one who actually isn't their friend and is pretending to be their friend. There's clearly no honour among (oxygen) thieves.
Sweet dreams 😎
It never rains, but that it pours, she lamented.
The new park manager.
He started out friendly enough; a smile, a wave from a distance… A g’day, when in earshot; Affable smalltalk when she was at his office.
No wife, it appeared; no steady girlfriend; somewhat submissive.
All-in-all he looked like an excellent target.
But over the last week, came ‘the look’.
She knew it well enough: the furtive glance, the pretense of having not seen her when she’d waved out to him.
Then there was the 'closed' sign at the office door when she’d tried to drop in for a chat and a bit of a look-see.
What happened, she wondered.
The last conversation had ended well enough, she recalled. She’d told him a bit about herself. Her multiple real estate deals, her medical conditions, her academic achievements, her direct relationship to seven European royal houses… Nothing out of the ordinary.
Now, out of the blue, he’d gone cold on her.
Something fishy was going on here, she suspected… And, by god, she was going to get to the bottom of it.
Surveillance was going to be required.
Just the basics to start with… Like the dates and times he left the park, who went to the office and when, how often his toilet flushed in the evening and through the night… Things like that.
But right now there was something more immediate on her mind… Mulching in defecations from the week into her broad bean patch.
Those beans weren’t the size of softballs yet, but they would be, damn it… They would be, by the time she’d finished with them.