My friend Brett and his mother are having troubles. I had to take him some clothes, because he doesn’t have any, and Brett talks too much about, about stuff he shouldn’t he shouldn’t talk about. Like when we spoke about L. Brooks Patterson for the first time, he told me that he was at the theater downtown dancing in the aisle, while the two of them, Patterson and Bouchard, did cocaine and young boys dance in the aisles and they played poker. It seems that he is still playing with bootie holes. His mother claimed she put him in the psyche ward, because he is losing it. He seemed fine to me. There is a bunch of good-looking men in there, and they seem to have good minds, too. I think Brett is a prostitute. He wanted me to know, but I didn’t want me to know. They used to lock me up and thought the aesthetics would make me feel better about prostituting, but I wasn’t comfortable at all. I was just as disgusted in the Forensic Center, as I was in that filthy jail.
St. Joseph Mercy Hospital used to be a Catholic Hospital. They used to have big crosses on the walls, now they have abstract sculptures and waterfalls. My cousin was up there, he’s an OCJ victim. He snuck up on me and I screamed. I found out about him when my nieces ex called me to tell me he had spotted him on the OCJ scanner website and he was released in an hour or so. I said to myself, “he has turned a couple of tricks and got out”. Brett’s mother has turned him in and made a few bucks, if he ain’t in on it, too. He knows that he can get more money from suing them than living in the psych ward for a week. “I am picking up what he’s putting down” And all the family members who were in there visiting. Their loved ones are being taken advantage of, and just because they are men doesn’t mean it’s impossible. If they are being dragged into a mental hospital, because they are good-looking to be pimped out to men or women, that is wrong. Brett is handsome and gay. He’s a good pick. Maybe his mom doesn’t know, and I’m wrong she’s not selling him. But…
Attorney Dana Nessel doesn't seem thrilled! When I got the letter about Dave Coulter, he freaked out on the phone, talking about Coulter being a freak, and not to believe it. I told him that the letter came from the IRS. He said Coulter was butt naked in a hotel room dancing around doing lines (cocaine). I got angry at him and asked him how did he know? I’ve never had cocaine in my life, and no one had ever done cocaine in front of me, but my father and he didn’t care. When I was 17, my boyfriend got up to knock out a guy whose house he was selling in, because he tried to pass me the pipe. My brother’s ex melted crack in my weed. I had no idea. She let me smoke the entire thing. I told Brett those were the three times I had gotten even closer to doing drugs and no one had never done drugs in front of me, why would someone do them in front of him, if he wasn’t doing them, too? He wanted to convince me so bad, he admitted he did lines with “boys” sometimes. Now, he is in the “nut house” with a bunch of male prostitutes. Male, young, handsome prostitutes. And Dave Coulter is sitting on his porch like this:
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