My Sister Amy...HAPPY BIRTHDAY

This post is a day late. My sister died two years ago. I never knew how sad she was until a month ago. Her eldesr son and his pedophile father came in my house and attempted to wreak havoc in my life. Replacing my water that the negroids had tainted. They discovered my man had planned to have it tested. Then he went forward to taint other things in my house. He sat with me saying he would be working with my man. He don't know my man doesn't do that job. He believed that I'm stupid and all alone and don't have anything or anyone. He treated me like a stranger. He didn't know I knew the things I did. He thought he was coming over to beat me up. To put a few blows in my sack. If not to knock me into oblivion, but to put a stagger in my walk. All he did was make my soul cry. One more love of my life gone. A crushing blow to my heart. My sister may have had questions, but that man who had destroyed her self-esteem had ruined her childs mind. He had done it long before that day he invaded the sanctity of my home and spoiled our love. His father told him that they would drag me back in their favor, my heart breaks for them, because they have lost a good friend, forever. I have lost good friends, too. The pedophile moved an entire half a house for me, by himself. Didn't ask for a dime. My nephew was always my friend someone I could talk to. Blessed me out, when I got close to knowing the sexual exploits of the people of their family. Put me out on the street. I cussed him out, but he never forgave me and his father only helped me to get me to trust him enough to get close to me to ruin my relationship. Monsters. People who have been sexually abused are crafty. They have been brought up to keep secrets and manipulate everybody, so they don't know their parents crimes. This man is 40 still under his father's thumb. His father still believing he's smarter than the law and drags his child into. A child that he didn't tell me that he don't even like. A man that direspects law enforcement so much that he thought they would leave me destitute. I wanted, never needed and he came back thinking I neened potato chips and gas from a man who grooms and rapes childen. I missed a very important appointment, because he was trying to come back in my life with a smile. The devil greatest trick was to convince the word he didn't exist. For 41 years I believed that his moves he made on me were isolated incidents. He was going through the family and victimizing his son's and my nieces and nephews. My sisters death released me from the sexual diviance and burdens. A lot makes sense now. I will miss that lille boy that would eat and fall asleep at the table who loved his Ma so much. Who always wanted to be a man. His father put him up to the mess as a sacrifice. Thinking I couldn't tell who the real Monster is. I kept telling him I'm not 15-years old anymore, but that goes back to thinking he's smarter than everyone. I know he wasn't smarter than my sister, but she loved him. She saw what he was and loved him despite of it all. Women have a tendency to be blind where there "man" is concerned. My man, however, is not a pedophile. So, I leave them to their vices and the negroids, who got my gas shut-off thinkin I would run to him for help. Since they disrupted my peace, no one has been in my home, to steal it again. I thought of my sister yesterday. How she loved birthdays and every special occassion. Then came the food with the special day and how she just couldn't get it under control. Knowing what I know now, it was simply impossible. Past hurts and present pains simply made it impossible. I loved my sister and refused to do anything to add to her pain. I hope wherever she is she is better and that she'll never have to face the things that contributed to the unhappiness. I hope wherever she is she is happy. Happy Birthday, Amy...

I Need Panties

I had six an entire boxes of notes I had taken while in jail. I took them all and threw them in the trash at the old Ridgemont apartments on Perry. We had a small apartment my Mama and me. Those boxes sat at the bottom of the steps stopping the door from closing all the way. I just got tired of it and the ones at the foot of my bed. I thought what ever I need to tell people, God would give me utterance, and he did. My book is 327 pages long. I had so much I had to tell people about Oakland County Jail, I would stay up writing. Steve didn't sleep when I was up. He didnt sleep until I slept "the people" made sure he had 24/7 access to me. I just sat around, unless I was fortunate enough to get a job. Then they put cameras in there, too! I did a lot of writing, because that's how we communicated. I would write all evening or day if the PPD was slow. I would wonder if he was reading what I was putting on my lap top. I was an app on his phone, and he could read my writing as it appeared on the screen. One day I was reading the paper the reporter wrote that he found Wittebort on his phone reading something on his phone. I got geeked and grinned from ear to ear, "That's me! he reading the messages from me!" He could have been checking the weather for all I knew, but I just love him so much I wanted him to be into me.

When I was in jail, they had access to what I wrote at my desk. I didn't know at first. One day, Clause came in the "Bubble" and put his hand on Bowerman's shoulder and asked, "What did she say?" Sitting in my food slot pretending to watch television. I wanted to know what was going on. They couldn't be perfect all the time. Plus, I liked watching them watch me and they were obsessed. They act like I'm a stalker to this day, but at least 10 of them followed me like I was on Facebook. They knew everything that was going on. Deputies who weren't even working that pod, would come to see if there was any action or if I had writtem him anything explosive . When the Sergeant hung the fake "Lockdowns" up, they use to come and read what they said. It was like I was a depraved animal living in a cage or something. Only I wasn't and my survival depended on them having a whorehouse that would survive me. Everyday, it was something or some one new. I kept steady with my commitment to God. I don't speak of him often, I want to curse. I pray all the time that I will stop. I do, but just take off sometimes. I'm thinking its my thorn, and his grace is sufficient.

So, about these panties, they were important to me. Usually, if you weren't in a pod with double cells where you have a bunkie and don't wear underwear, you wash your draws in the shower. One woman got so mad at how much weight she lost in jail, she left her panties in the shower for the Trustees to dispose of. She was just done with not having enough to eat.I would buy smaller panties as I lost, which is why I have a great distaste for Ms. Lydia and Cristina, they are not two of my favorite people. Ms. Lydia picked and chose who she gave new panties to. Me not cooperating with "the game" has never gotten a pair of underwear from Lydia in the 24 year span of me going in and out of jail, and them trying to put me in prison, and the times I went to prison, She never gave me a single pair. When women have periods we should have undergarments to protect our clothing and bedding. We only get tampons which supports the no panties protocol. I didnt like not wearing panties, but I couldn't wear them wet. I had to wash them and hang them up, every other day. Cristina is on my list, because she failed to bring the two pair I bought one day. The soap isn't bleach and they get dingy. You got to get new ones.

Now, a Thick story is Naomi. We called her that, because she was tall with long legs and had dark skin.She came in on a mistaken identity, her cousin had used her name. She also had a couple of warrants. Thick came in that morning and she asked for a fresh pair of uniform pants. She had started her period during the night and had bled through her uniform pants. He told her no and she should have worn her underwear and it wouldn't have been so bad. She countered that no panties would stop blood, and he said it would have helped. That's when the argument started. She got mad and threw the pants at him. He did not take kindly to her action, even if they hit the cell door, he wasn't going for that. He marched her up to "Discipline" in nothing but her uniform top. She had her hair in Shirley Temple curls with a part in the middle. She looked too cute for jail. Thick put her in the cell with no food slot. That room is cold, and every time we ate, they have to open the entire door. She told us all the story. We got her toilet paper, and Jeri went and started something with him because she wanted to be part of the action. He dragged her back to her cell. She went upstairs to take her the toilet paper. She can't do that, we told her not to get caught. She lived downstairs. Naomi ended up in cell six, and it was all meant to put her in MAX. Six is one cell from Bam-Bam. She was a prostitute. She chose the right one to get there. Thick don't play...

Chief Judge Nanci Grant: All in the Game

Let me tell you, as Chief Judge, Nanci Grant was never above being a pimping judge. One day while in a holding cell, Jackie Curry and a couple of inmates were giving me a hard time. When I went to court, I always had a hard time. The women usually would pick a fight with me. I wouldn’t even be doing anything to anyone. Some little skinny White girl sitting between a Black woman’s legs playing in her hair. She would suddenly turn on me with fiery words of negativity. Being who I am, I would let her have it with everything I had. Then all the little White girls started in. It was like three of them. They all acted like the were so big and bad, with another two or three Black women who they thought would “Have their back”. I wasn’t scared of not one of them and would have fought all of them. I was about to pull the one who had stood up on the concrete bench, off her thorn and beat the brakes off her. They all got extremely loud like they had read my mind. One girl started beating on the door. Amanda Hernandez is a prostitute. Mr. Murray must not die in vain.

The Dep came to the door furious. “What’s going on in here?” He demanded. He looked around and one of the girls exploded, “It’s her!” She pointed at me.

I pointed to myself, “Bitch! I didn’t say shit to none of y’all! You started with me!”

“It’s her she always starting stuff.”

“All the girls rang out, “It’s her!”

I was the third time it had happened, and I was used to it. It was Ms. Lydia. It was never the girls from my pod; it was always from general population. Where she reigned as the mother of the teenagers, and low-level criminals. Shoplifters and uttering and publishing and credit card fraud. The women over there were cursed with a lack of things to do. They usually turned on one another or helped the Deps create havoc in the pod. Miss Lydia had given them word for them to make enough noise for the Deputy to come and when he got there blame it all on me. She knew that they would have to move me. They always did. Before I left, however, Jackie let me know her judge was the Chief Judge, Nanci Grant. Jackie spent her days in Bam-Bam. That’s the place in the jail where the lights are on 24/7. It’s so-called “suicide watch”, in reality, it’s a sex dungeon. Deputies come down in the Annex and stick their penises in the food slots and get hand jobs and blow jobs. In the medium pod they have sex with one another. Sometimes Ms. Lydia would watch. The Deaconess.

They say that she stands across the fence and talks about how pitiful we are, popping her lips and shaking her head. She has a great big bubble butt that the Sergeant likes a lot. When they put me in that cell by myself and blew that cold air on me all morning, I was miserable. Just like I am now having to take cold showers, because they scammed me into changing my gas carrier. I got a bill for $659. But they sent bills for $50. Ms. Lydia’s games to get me to prostitute is no match to the men who are hounding me now. They are relentless. Cold showers are no joke.

Starving in Jail

I remember when Trump was voted in as President the Black people wanted us to do. Dick Gregory said in a hostile tone, “Nothing, it’s none of our business!” I didn’t know what that mean old man meant by that. It has been 10 years ant I know now There is a lot that people take for granted and one of them is status, money and the idea that things will continue the way they will. That corruption is what’s going to hold up the bad things in the world, because it will not. I heard some horrific things from both sides of the aisle this evening. First, kids aren’t reading at a fourth-grade level. Not just Black kids but most kids. This means, Welfare and Jail. People have complained their children aren’t getting that education; now what?

I know what you can do. Fire some of those older deputies, making all that money and bring some younger ones in. Since you’ve acquired Pontiac more intelligent African Americans who don’t want to steal and be involved with corruption. I know I have lived in the jail and they don’t feed you. They keep all the real food for their prostitutes. In prison on every Saturday, you get sausage and pancakes and oatmeal and syrup. Aramark serves the same meal at the jail, but we didn’t get it on Saturday. When my niece was there a few years ago, they got chips and sandwiches for two meals a day. They are stealing everything else. She didn’t speak to me and didn’t come to my mother’s funeral. She’s one of them. They love to get her there to prostitute for them. It makes them feel good about not getting me. Food insecurity is something they use to get you in their grips. I went to McClaren and didn’t eat for 24 hours.

Everybody is selling themselves these days. Hospital, party stores, McDonalds, the guys at the donut shop. EVERYWHERE the Oakland County Sherrif’s Department has this entire municipality posing as a whorehouse with our sons and daughter posing as whores. I’m telling whoever is listening and I think they are listening, and that milage was close. I spelled it wrong and they spelled it wrong on WWJ. There is only one “l”, Mike has to do these two years. He won’t make it, unless he’s a good faker!

It's None of Our Business

Good Girlfriend

Well, Mike chosen to take the eyes of the people off Pontiac and put it on a 14-year-old, who is having sex with a 20-year-old man. I don’t know about y’all, but my friends were having sex at 14 years old with 20-year-old men. I wasn’t having sex at 14 years old, but I had sex, with a boy my age, I started having sex at 17, with a boy my age. This isn’t news what Bouchard is using to keep the eyes of Oakland County off his inmates sleeping on the streets. See, you gotta feed inmates and if they aren’t working to make you money, there is no return on investment, no benefit for your expense. I’m sure the FBI has infiltrated their jail. It’s getting hard to run their operation unnoticed. Plus, the have so many “wanna-be- Lesley’s” It’s hard to keep them all in line. I know my nemesis has turned at CNS; she’d use any scheme to be on my level. She doesn’t know there is no such thing. I’ll use all the help I can get.

This girl went home and told her mother where she’d been, what she had done and with whom she had done it with. Seems to me she’s not new to this. She came home when she was done, if you ask me. When I was 14 and I had left my home for an extended period, it would still be a secret. Having sex with a grown man is not for your mother to ever know. Having sex with a 13-year-old isn’t something your mother should know. She’s dead, my mother and Jesus were the only way she would ever know. Now, months later they are looking for other victims. That man is her man and she’s his one and only. She just wanted to spend a few nights with him like real women do, that’s all. Bouchard knows how it goes. He is acting “new”. He’s been in the game long enough to know that girl was the catalyst and not the victim.

So Mike, let’s get down to it. You’ve got a 36% raise from Pontiac. That’s a lot of money. What about our misplaced homeless people that won’t make you any money? Are you going to take our money and leave it on the library steps. Everybody has money for new offices and suites, but none for the homeless? I’m going to let Tu Pac say that story. Bouchard’s distractions aren’t going to stop me from asking touchy questions. What about the women and children and the veterans? The men who have fallen on hard times. I fell victim to homelessness and I’m an MBA. Let’s get on the right track, you too, Dave.

Pontiac...Coruption...Homelesness... The Real Story

There is a problem with the City’s Building and Safety, Court System and Landlords. Many of the landlords pay the people to get out of these programs the tenants are in. I know that I was on an Escrow Program that left me homeless for almost a year. When I found an apartment, it was riddled with bed bugs. Afraid of being homeless again, I’m still here dealing with bed bug infestations every few months. My landlord was a type of freak that came in my house while I was at work and rummaged through my underwear. Spread them out on the floor and threw money in the seats. I went to the city and spoke to Clarence Cohen of the Building and Safety Commisision. He talked me into the Escrow Program to get my money back every month. It really was just a “Money Grab”, because my landlord kicked me out, when Cohen promised me, he couldn’t. Chief Judge Cynthia Walker said I had to let him in, if he wanted to come in. First, he never gave me notice, and I had attempted to get a Personal Protection Order (PPO) against him for coming in my house while I was away. I wasn’t letting him into my house; alone!

On that she evicted me, and I appealed. That was November 17, 2024. The apartment had no heat. Judge Bowman stayed Judge Watkins’ judgement. I had already moved out, because the Winter was already getting horrible. He told the judge he was going to fix the heat and never fix the heat. Locked me out and stole all my stuff. I tried to file an appeal with the 6th Circuit Court. Just like the 50th District Cout. I was living in a hotel and as soon as they discovered I was homeless they started to pressure me to prostitute. Prostitution is big in Auburn Hills. Now, that the Pistons are gone and the Palace is torn down they have all those hotels, and they use them as whorehouses. I don’t give into those kinds of dealings. I moved around until I ran out of money, then I started sleeping in my car. My brother-in-law took me in, but he started walking around the house with no shirt on. I had to get out of there. He found me this place, and I’ve been living with bed bugs, mice and roaches ever since. They are all gone, but the bed bugs. They come back every three months or so.

It’s all due to the Oakland County Sheriff's Department stalking me, because I refuse to prostitute for them. I see a lot of women on Baldwin from the jail; homeless. I see men, too. That one man is like me, He’s clean and is just in a bad spot, due to his circumstances. OCSD won’t let me get a job. I have a Masters’s of Business Administration (MBA), and I can’t get a job nowhere. I might as well be homeless; I can’t make any money beyond my disability to pay my rent. They are trying to make me a prostitute by default. Make it my last resort. Those women and men suffer from a system meant to tear them down and not build them up. I’ve lived it! Law Enforcement, the court system and public corruption is the reason for homelessness in Pontiac… -Lesley