The Cabal Fall Down

Folks, I want to preface this blog by asking that you do your own research. I am seeing so many vloggers, bloggers and Twatters-some that I have followed for years-put out faulty and even dangerous information as of late. It angers me beyond the point of reason-many of these so called Patriots are raking it in-and they’ll do anything to get you to notice them; including clickbait, which I find absolutely deplorable.

Speaking of Deplorables-Trump has ended the mainstream media. Rachel Madcow crying, on live television, was worth the wait. The very same asshats who screamed ORANGE MAN BAD are the ones who have something to hide-and trust me, it ain’t good.

It is my staunch opinion that these are the end of days under the festering, murderous regime of literal vampires who stalk their prey right out in the open, as if they are untouchable. Believe me when I say their days are numbered. Tom Hanks, Ellen DeGeneres, Madonna, Courtney Cox and even Julia Louise Dreyfus-you can see them on Twitter, disheveled and withdrawing from Adrenochrome. Harrowing I know, but let’s look at this from a sane perspective.

I am not trying to frighten you, that is the last thing I want to do. Fear is a liar, and it will get you nowhere fast. The best thing you can do right now is have faith that we are in a biblical time in which God is wiping evil off of the face of the earth. You are safe in your homes. God is using this to turn his children to Christ. The Plan ( has been in place for years. Trust Donald J. Trump, trust the military. They will not let us down, this I know for sure.

So what can you do? I am getting my house in order, literally. Cleaning and organizing gives you a sense of control-desperately needed in times such as these. Check in on your elderly neighbors and family, reassure them with the knowledge you have gained-ask of their needs, and play nice with others. I have seen some ugly things over the past week, and although I put myself in the middle of more than an argument or two? I am now focusing on loving the crud out of people who appear to be unlovable. The general population (especially the normies) are frightened. Fear is often hidden by anger-you know how you felt when you first woke up-lost at sea. Find a way to love and comfort those around you.

Americans are overworked, overscheduled and exhausted. Here are a few ideas to help you keep hope alive.

  • Play outdoors. Not only will this give you a much needed break from stress, the oxygen the trees and fauna give off are rejuvenating.
  • Break the rules-eat that donut, take an extra piece of pie-go for the shot of tequila. Not every day but some days. A little self indulgence is liberating.
  • Journal-you’re living in the most amazing time in the history of the world-next to Jesus’ overcoming the grave. Beautiful things are happening all around us-perhaps a gratitude journal? It helps us to see just how well God has provided for us.
  • Reignite your sense of humor-playful people have more resilience.
  • Do nothing. We are not meant for unrelenting stressors. The very act of doing nothing is important.
  • Activate your vagus nerve-the key to calming down. The vagus is the longest of the 12 nerve fibers emanating from the brain. A cheap way to do this is by cold-water face immersion. This reduces your heart rate and blood pressure.
  • Take a hike! Pay attention to God’s creation wherever you are-refigure your relationship to everything around you.
  • Learn a new skill. Always wanted to learn a new language? Paint? Each time we acquire a new skill we strengthen our brains.
  • Get more sleep! According to a new Gallup pole, 40% of Americans report getting less than the recommended 7 hours per night. You may just see a dramatic difference in your physical abilities in three to four years.
  • Emotionally connect with family and friends. Mood follows action. Call an old comrade, send a cheery note to your great Aunt Jane-you get the drift.
  • Get your hands dirty. Exposure to biodiverse soil is good for your microbiome-scientists correlate this with improved mood and sleep.
  • Ask your physician about CBD oil for anxiety. Be wary if a product claims to cure anything-you may be eligible for a prescription for medical marijuana if you have one of several medical conditions. I was diagnosed with CPTSD-there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to wax profane on its ability to help me cope.
  • Focus on one thing, one day at a time. Multitasking is a myth-it simply doesn’t work.
  • Want to relax? Learn how to knit. There are many websites devoted to teaching skills we never had the time to learn before.
  • Try Tai Chi-again, a marvelous way to center yourself.
  • Plan a dream vacation. You may not be able to book it, but the dream of better days ahead is a panacea to the soul.

And last but never least-pray. Read the Psalms, the New Testament, any scripture you find brings you solace.

Read Psalm 91-not only my favorite, but a Psalm for miracles-

For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

The Hurdy Gurdy Man

A little birdy told me that this song was written about MK Ultra. Thanks LP.

I have had it. Literally as done as done could be. Triggered by the information coming at me from every angle-but now is not the time to look away. Now is the time to fight evil, with every ounce of my being I deplore these vipers. I want justice and if my discernment is worth a hill of beans? I know it will be delivered by an extremely angry God.

I have nothing left to give, not even to my beloved fur babies. I have reached my quota of ignorant, selfish and deceitful people. Chances are? If you come at me with mocking, hatred or even stupidity?

I will END you.

The truth is reaching critical levels. The repugnant MSM is causing hysteria, the kind that you’d expect at the end of tribulation-not to be confused with the panic one sees in empty toilet paper and hand sanitizer aisles. That’s right-we have no bread on our shelves and they are charging $24 for a regular bag of cat food. The walking Zombies of the Apocalypse of me-me-me are out and about, wearing masks, thinking only of themselves. Wait until they learn the truth.

Awhile back, while on the 8kun channel, I saw a post by Q intimating that 99% of the world would be hospitalized if they knew the truth: only now do I believe it. These people are sick, and they want a way out of taking any responsibility nor ridicule for their crimes against humanity.Who am I kidding, right? I believe that anger is fear unleashed, and while God has taken the spirit of fear away, my anxiety is through the roof. Do you know what it’s like to be this angry, this wounded? I pray not.

You see, my heart bleeds daily-for the underdog, the abused, the bullied. For some time I thought it a sin to be angry or even miffed; I allowed people to perceive my kindness as weakness and I pushed it down, you know-love your enemies.

Spiritual warfare calls for intensity, and pushing down rage is akin to pushing down grief-it will come back up and kill you in the process. Nope, not this girl. I can finally take comfort in the notion that my enemies will be given the full wrath of God. I can no longer afford the pity-or the idiot compassion.

I wrote the following blog last evening, but the “powers that be” shut down my computer, and I didn’t have the strength to fight back.

Now, all bets are off. Just three years ago my life lay in ruins. No family. No friends. I had just relapsed, over the gaslighting dished out by the most evil woman I know. Yet miraculously, I had Jesus and it is because of my beloved Lord and Savior that I survived that period in time. What doesn’t kill you does indeed make you stronger-mess with me and you’ll get burned and badly at that. Fair warning.

The upcoming days will be revealing, revolting and yes, retribution is at hand. To those of you who wish to do harm or delight in the terror and chaos they knowingly create? I have news: the end won’t be for everyone.

Jesus is Coming, Jesus is COMING!”, I found myself screaming at the stranger beside me at the gas pumps at Walmart. He nodded his head, smiled and ran like Pistorius towards the market. I jumped in my jeep.

WHAT. THE. FUCK. JUST. HAPPENED?, read the thought cloud above me.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I cared what he thought. As a matter of fact, for a moment I resented him for not throwing caution to the wind and raising his hands to the heavens. But that’s just me.

Earlier in the morning I had called Lynn, my closest friend, to tell her the exact same thing. As soon as she picked up the phone I yelled my delight: I am full to the brim, overflowing with joy. I feel it, I know it. He’s coming. He’s so close, I’m so happy…..

You get the drift.

I want to be comforting, but I want to be honest. You deserve nothing but the truth after the decades of lies, lawlessness and brainwashing at the hands of the people you trusted. They were playing a game, all the while amassing vast wealth and, tragically, the blood of our children.

Waking up was the most painful experience of my life and I did it alone, but I did it with Jesus. It became so harrowing at one point that I asked for mercy, as if I even broached the subject with anyone? I was silenced, rejected or treated as if I was mentally ill.

It was the fucking pits.

Tomorrow’s blog will be what I wanted today’s to be-one of hope and comfort.

Dark to a light so bright it’ll knock your mother loving socks off.

I’m Not No Limberger

This blog is dedicated to the woman who keeps me grounded, keeps me going and keeps me safely tucked inside her heart. I love you sweet Lynn-may God bless and keep you…

Momma also told me there’s be days like this, but did I listen?

George hates my guts, he really does. What began as a nice comradery has turned ugly, and quick. The owner of the Brickerville House, the cozy little tavern with food to die for, has not taken kindly to my commiserating with his wait staff. Today for instance, I am quite sure he wanted to throat punch me-for hugging a waitress no less. As I moved in for the weekly embrace Miss Shannon delivers, I can see his beady little eyes watching every move I made.

“Take a picture, dude!,” I did not yell, but hey-I wanted to.

As we paid our bill, I went to say goodbye.

“I just got in major trouble for hugging you. The fucking Coronavirus crap. I guess we aren’t supposed to be physical, you know.” She went on to say she didn’t care, but the look on her face begged to differ.

That would be because the man detests me-not a reflection on you, my dear.

“Why does he hate you so much?”

Ah, well, that would be because his waitstaff loves me, and he thinks I slow you down-get in the way.

We collapsed into giggles, just as Mr. Personality hit the bar. I ran as if my hair were afire. I could give a crap, you know me, but the last thing on my mind was getting her fired, to be sure.

On to my grocery store “experience.” My husband was in the store aside of Dutchway, where we do most of our shopping. I used to do food display at this store, as a result I have many friends that are like a family to me. I was discussing the “virus” with Judy, who works in the meat department.

I just love him so much, I mean, thank GOD for President Trump.”

The circle of ladies grew larger, we all agreed, yep, Donald J. Trump is going to save this country, as God ordained him to do so. Knowing my husband was waiting, I left the group and headed towards the corned beef-a rarity around these parts-and St. Patty’s day is coming up…suddenly, my bionic ears took over.

“Better watch what I say around her, she probably has a gun in her pocket.”

As the minions grabbing the last of the toilet paper passed by in a blur, I turned and said:

What did you just say?

She proceeded to yell at warp volume:


I admit it-I thought about spraying her with the mace I did have in my pocket.. I shook, from the bottom of my feet to the red curls that fell across my forehead. I wanted to hit her in her freakishly large cranium that held very little inside.

I took a step forward, then another. I stared into her eyes. And in a moment of intense rage and disgust?

I took her freaking toilet paper right out of her cart.

She didn’t beg to differ.

Sugar Mountain

You can’t be twenty on Sugar Mountain, though you know that you’re leaving there too soon.

I apologize for not getting to my audience sooner, but the fates combined to leave me with no electronics. Long story, and let’s just get down to it, shall we?

I want to preface anything I say with a caveat-if you don’t believe me, have trust issues or think I have time to bullshit you?

This blog isn’t for you.


The Wuhan virus was patented by the Deep State to create an Armageddon: while they fled for underground tunnels and Antartica-caviar and only the best champagne will do, thank you very much-[THEY] were going to kill as many of us as possible.

The Trump administration, the nation’s military generals, and especially God Himself thwarted that plan. What you are watching in real time is the systematic destruction of the deep state cabal. Our beloved, duly elected president needs time to arrest thousands upon thousands of very, very evil people. He wants us safe. Donald J. Trump cannot shout out his plans because the enemies of our state would be more informed than he wants them to be. I am telling you to trust the plan, take a break, and look to God for answers and self reflection. You will have plenty, plenty of time on your hands in which to do so.

In 2017, the Holy Spirit saw fit to convict me of one thing and one thing only: that #QAnon was real. Over the past years, I felt God moving mountains for me: He gave me everything I needed to prepare for the job I excel at-and that is encouraging, loving and comforting people.

What you are watching on television is Public Enemy Numero Uno: the mainstream media conglomerate run by the likes of George Soros and major network talking heads who will not only be indicted? [THEY] will face charges of treason, punishable by death. It is they who caused this panic, as they are in bed with satan. It proves a point, one that we have been trying to tell you for years: don’t believe a word you hear.

I lost my shit over the years, on the people I loved the most. Uncontrollable fits of rage and frustration, combined with an exhausted and withered psyche, led me to turn to Jesus in a way I never had before. Through the miracle of faith I was guided by discernment the likes of which I have never experienced before. The great Comforter was way ahead of me, to be sure.

There will be executions.

There will be blood shed.

There will be mass arrests.

This storm is biblical, my dear beloveds. If there was every a good time to pray, it’s now. We are SAFE. The patriots are in control. I will be blogging all weekend, as there will be an upcoming 10 days of darkness in which our entire internet system will be rebooted.

Buh bye Zuckerberg.

See ya later @Jack.

Don Lemon? It’s been real.

What can you do? Ensure you have plenty of food, water and, er, toilet paper. Cooperate with your president. Have your prescriptions filled for three months if possible, stock up on whatever it is that you simply cannot be without-for me, Nicorette gum and pet food.

Comfort your friends and neighbors. Remain CALM, and please-look up. He’s holding you. He’s loving you. GOD is in control.

You Talking to Me?

Nothing like having your smile ripped right off of your lips.

There is nothing in this life that irritates me more than labels. People simply cannot be defined by one trait, be it color of skin or disability-we are multi faceted, and extremely complicated creatures.

And then there’s husbands.

I put them in a category by themselves, as often is the case that I find myself absolutely flabbergasted that I have not, indeed, murdered my life partner and then, as an afterthought? Cut him into pieces.

Sure, it’s funny NOW.

Before you think me full blown mental, please listen to my side of the story. My husband is, shall we say, extremely sensitive. 24/7. This used to drive me to the point of calling my shrink, hysterical because I thought I had done something to displease him. And, back then, I was in recovery from my demons, but also extremely codependent on Dwain.

I let alot slide, trust me. And I only now realize how very blessed I am that he didn’t leave my drunken Irish ass. HOWEVER, there are power struggles each and every day-and it can and does get fugly.

When I’m sick, I don’t get depressed like some-I become hair triggered temper itself, and even my pets walk on eggshells during “my time of the month.” My mother was a screamer, and as embarrassing as it is to admit? Due to extreme duress under which most would be institutionalized -I tend to rant and rave. I am prone to punching the living shit out of inanimate objects, or, say, threaten my cats-in a nice way, of course.

It does take quite a bit to blow my fuse (God has changed my heart as well as my impatience) but every so often the conditions present themselves to be nothing less than a perfect storm. That’s when all bets are off.

True story.

Getting back to the subject of labeling others. I have been emotionally manipulated by the people I love most for a lifetime. My mother excelled in this department, and to this day it rattles my cage-no, sends me into orbit, when my husband practices this malignant behavior. I am much wiser for the years, however it hurts me to the core when he belittles me by categorizing the reasons for treating me like crap. There. I said it.

“Oh, well, you’re stoned so…….”

“Obviously, you’re in a mood, so I’ll just….”

“Never mind.” As if I would break out the machete had he uttered word one.

I admit there was a time when I would beg him to love me, or at least treat me with some modicum of respect. Our faith has transformed our weaknesses, mostly, into strengths and given us compassion for those that struggle with disharmony on a day to day basis. We get it. We do.

Back to what happens after Dwain says something incredibly stupid: I almost always laugh, at first. I laugh because I can’t believe he’s being serious, and because I know it will be my last laugh for days, in some cases -weeks. Case in point: it is 3:30 in the afternoon. He enters the living room and sees that I am content to be writing, even have a smile on my face.

“I want to pack all that shit up, and I’m not waiting until the end of the day to do it.”

He has leverage because my computer took a crap two weeks ago, immediately after my blog about Ms. Belenoff. I do not like being indebted to anyone, especially my husband. Does he really need to pack his computer now? My guess is no, and here we go again.

And here’s the rub-I have a zero tolerance for bullshit of any kind. I absolutely refuse to let things of this nature slide, no one gets away with belittling or manipulating this girl, sorry. This drives him to frustration, at which point I grab my things and isolate myself for the duration.

I know, I know-the bible tells us not to go to bed angry. These words are in my VOWS people. In the 28 years of my marriage I have yet to practice this rule. Stubborn yes, a doormat? Nope.

A few weeks ago our pastor brought this subject up. He preached a lovely sermon about the subject, and the importance of forgiveness.

I can’t tell you I’ll never go to bed angry again, but my God forgave me-He made me as white as snow.

Thing is, same goes for my thug of a husband.

Always, always forgive. Even if it’s a major pain in the anal cavity, forgive.

Baby Blues

Seems no matter how fast I run, can’t get away from me~

On our way to dinner last evening, this tune hit the secret places of my heart and soul. Immediately taken back to high school, and the concert my main man took me to at Mann Music Center. His name was Matt and he was as dreamy as they come. I fell in love with him during a crew practice-I was a coxswain for Upper Merion’s Varsity four and eight-and had my mother not intervened? I would be living in Montana with this man, grandchildren at my feet and blissfully unawares.

Matt was the man all the girls on the team drooled over. He with the bedroom eyes and humble presence. As in every other relationship I’ve had with men, I was the one who pursued. It didn’t take long before the girls hated me, but I was lost in a big ball of love coma.

The music lulled me back to a time when life was sweeter, safer and certainly simpler. Although I love my husband and my life more than I have a right to-I miss the innocence.

Oh, how I miss the innocence.

I want my family to know something, and I am speaking to every one of you. I did not pick this scenario, far from it. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of, pray for and love you. I have moved past our differences and forgiven, as I hope you have forgiven me. Family is everything, and I have done everything humanly possible to keep you all in my life.

Everything, of course, besides tell you that the past is the past, and will not be held against you-ever. I’d want nothing more than to have a loving, nourishing relationship with you-but perhaps you wouldn’t return the sentiment-as I am an entirely different person, with an entirely different set of priorities. I speak my mind, not to hurt anyone-but because my voice counts, in my opinion.

It is with God, this I know. And that is where it shall remain.


Soon, the truth will not be denied the American people.

Very soon, those who have shut me down, deemed me deplorable or downright mental will know that I haven’t uttered one lie in the past three years. Everything I have written is the God’s honest truth and nothing but.

I take no pleasure in being the first to awaken. I woke up completely and utterly alone-or should I say without a human companion. My husband and I fought for the better part of these years-he simply would not believe a word I said.

A few months ago, I told him it was time for me to move on as I no longer took interest in a marriage in which my husband thought me a liar-too far gone and too far fetched to take seriously, no, not for a moment.

One day he asked me what will it take, what do you want me to do?

Later, we sat together, holding hands, while I educated him with facts and the proof behind the facts. I prayed the entire time, yet I couldn’t muster the courage to look at the expression on his face. But the Spirit nudged, and I looked up-and watched as his tears freely flowed.

And when he said the three words I had yearned for, I forgave him instantly.

“I believe you.”

Pick Up Your Cross

Ah, Wednesday morning and I sit in the chair by the fireplace and try to once again get my bearings. This is Polly, a woman I have followed since the day I woke up, and saw my sister and many of my friends for what they were: slimy snakes in need of a bitch slap. Thing is? I don’t like violence, in any form.

The fact is that the likelihood of you exposing the serpents who hide in the darkness is akin to cutting off your nose despite your face-it will only lead to darker days ahead.

It is finished. Kaput. Over. I have walked away from the mess called my family and I can tell you I have not a tear left to cry. I hold my head high as I speak my peace-please, Craig, don’t contact us again.

In my naivete I thought I was helping my brother to come to the truth. I prayed, good grief there are people praying for my family all over the world. God put His foot down-do not throw your pearls before swine, my beloved.

There are times that we are asked to sacrifice what we deem most important in this life. We were never promised an easy road, but we are promised salvation.

I am numb to any vibrational pull at this moment. I find peace in the notion that soon this will all be over; soon we will find ourselves in a new dimension of time and space-I like to think of it as Heaven, yes, Heaven on this earth.

So take the arrows that fly by night and return them tenfold. Speak your truth until you are blue in the face. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re crazy, certifiably so-they are running scared, and they want you to pay the price for their stupidity, their darkness.

Save yourself. Pray for your enemies and rest assured that you will enter the Kingdom of Heaven as the meek shall inherit the earth.