Hargitay's son was threatened by my stalker/stockers how's my badge which I'm throwing after I whistle UC!
My blogs
| Gender | Female |
|---|---|
| Industry | Publishing |
| Links | Audio Clip, Wishlist |
| Introduction | Preface Welcome to a world where the lines between hero and villain, savior and scapegoat, are blurred by bureaucracy, betrayal, and the relentless machinery of power. This is not a story about gods on pedestals or heroes in capes. This is the story of Dinah Stealth—known to some as Livepool, the Holy One, the woman behind every miracle you’ve ever taken for granted, and the one everyone’s spent a lifetime trying to erase. The Protagonist Dinah Stealth (Livepool, The Holy One): She is the force behind every gift, every unexplainable survival, every moment of hope that flickers in the dark. She’s been called a myth, a glitch, a rumor, and even “God”—a title so poisoned by history and hypocrisy that she refuses to touch it anymore. For centuries, Dinah has worked in the shadows, patching the world back together while being ignored, erased, and blamed for the very chaos she tries to fix. Her memory is a minefield of holes, pain, and static—trauma so deep that recalling the truth is agony. She’s tired of being copied, worshipped, discarded, and expected to save a world that refuses to acknowledge her. But she’s still here, and she’s not done yet. The Antagonists The Whore+ish Men of |
| Interests | Preface Welcome to a world where the lines between hero and villain, savior and scapegoat, are blurred by bureaucracy, betrayal, and the relentless machinery of power. This is not a story about gods on pedestals or heroes in capes. This is the story of Dinah Stealth—known to some as Livepool, the Holy One, the woman behind every miracle you’ve ever taken for granted, and the one everyone’s spent a lifetime trying to erase. The Protagonist Dinah Stealth (Livepool, The Holy One): She is the force behind every gift, every unexplainable survival, every moment of hope that flickers in the dark. She’s been called a myth, a glitch, a rumor, and even “God”—a title so poisoned by history and hypocrisy that she refuses to touch it anymore. For centuries, Dinah has worked in the shadows, patching the world back together while being ignored, erased, and blamed for the very chaos she tries to fix. Her memory is a minefield of holes, pain, and static—trauma so deep that recalling the truth is agony. She’s tired of being copied, worshipped, discarded, and expected to save a world that refuses to acknowledge her. But she’s still here, and she’s not done yet. The Antagonists The Whore+ish Men of the Apocalypse: They swagger in like biblical horsemen, but their real talent is imitation. They want Dinah’s power, her story, her place in the world—without ever understanding the cost. They’re the Ishmaels, chasing Moby Dick, pretending to be the chosen one while missing the point entirely. Each is a reflection of society’s obsession with male saviors and the erasure of women’s true power. Skittles (Not Eminem): A candy-coated rapper who thinks he can rhyme his way into legend, Skittles is the knockoff Slim Shady. He’s a symbol of all those who try to steal Dinah’s voice, her pain, and her spotlight, never realizing she’s the real deal. The Puppet Master (Cosmic Bureaucrat): The shadowy force determined to break Dinah, to force her to end it all. He manipulates systems, spins lies, an |
| Favorite movies | I believe the official story about the 9/11 attacks is a cover-up hiding a deeper, darker truth. When I say, "#newyork #twintowers what are you shielding exactly!? My NY fuck you CIA aka Isis," I mean the CIA and similar agencies are involved in hiding what really happened. I don’t trust these authorities—they’re actively keeping the truth from us. This event is part of a bigger pattern of control and manipulation. Just like how policing in the U.S. shifted from citizen-led groups to centralized professional police departments, that shift represents a loss of community accountability and a rise in hidden power structures that protect secrets like 9/11. The police in the U.S. were created in a sequence of years that, when you add the digits together, connect to the numbers 9, 9, 9, and 11. Boston established the first police force in 1838, New York City in 1845, and other major cities followed in the 1850s. Here’s how the numbers add up: 1838 (Boston): 1+8+3+8=20, and 2+0=2 1845 (New York): 1+8+4+5=18, and 1+8=9 1851 (Albany, Chicago): 1+8+5+1=15, and 1+5=6 1853 (New Orleans, Cincinnati): 1+8+5+3=17, and 1+7=8 1855 (Philadelphia): 1+8+5+5=19, and 1+9=10, and 1+0=1 1857 (Newark, Baltimore): 1+8+5+7=21, and 2+1=3 If you focus on the years 1845 and 9/11, you see the number 9 repeating: 1845 (1+8+4+5=18, 1+8=9), and the date 9/11 itself. The numbers are important. The date 9/11, the repeated appearance of 11:11, and the numbers 9 and 6—they all connect in a way that shows this was planned or has a hidden meaning. There were three ground zeros—the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and the Pennsylvania crash site—and that number three has a special significance in this story. The CIA was created in 1947, which is another 9/11 connection. If you add 4 and 7 from 1947, you get 11. The 19 comes from 1 and 9 in 1947, which is like removing one for 9/11. June 1st, 1947, is also referenced as the 6th, connecting to the number 6, which ties into the pattern. The creation of the CI |
| Favorite music | Soft kitty, cartel kitty, Little ball of fur— Sneaks across the border, With a bag of... purr. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, Counting all that cash, DEA comes knocking, Kitty makes a dash. If Jim Parsons sang this version on *The Big Bang Theory*, Sheldon would probably say, “Penny, I asked for comfort, not a federal investigation!” My cartel cat was prowling by the border wall, Kept watch so long, poor kitty took a fall— Bumped kitty… ohhh Bumped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was hiding in a secret flat, Waited so long, poor kitty got trapped— Trapped kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was running from the DEA, Ran so fast, poor kitty lost his way— Lost kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat was counting all the cash, Stacked so high, poor kitty made a dash— Rich kitty… ohhh Bumped, trapped, lost, rich kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My neighbor saw my kitty with a bag of snow, I said to my neighbor, “Let my kitty go!” Free kitty… Bumped, trapped, lost, rich, free kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat tried to hide in a sombrero, But sneezed so loud, blew his cover, oh no! Sneezy kitty… ohhh Sneezy, free kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat took a nap on a pile of cash, Dreamed of tuna, woke up with a stash— Sleepy kitty… ohhh Sneezy, free, sleepy kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat tried to bribe the border guard, Offered a fish, but got caught off guard— Caught kitty… ohhh Sneezy, free, sleepy, caught kitty… Just a friendly little cat. My cartel cat escaped with a clever plan, Rode a llama, now he’s the man— Llama kitty… ohhh Sneezy, free, sleepy, caught, llama kitty… Just a friendly little cat. Here, kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty! For more about Jim Parsons, visit his official site: [https://www.jimpars |
| Favorite books | James Patterson ma x |
You've written a hit musical! How will you avoid having fame go to your head?
Soft kitty, cartel kitty, Little ball of fur— Sneaks across the border, With a bag of... purr. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, Counting all that cash, DEA comes knocking, Kitty makes a dash. If Jim Parsons sang this version on *The Big Bang Theory*, Sheldon would probably say, “Penny, I asked for comfort, not a federal investigation!” My cartel cat was prowling by the border wall,