Most guys, when asked their favorite food, would not answer: arugula.
Posted on 02/04/2009 6:02:17 PM PST by Dajjal
Edited on 02/04/2009 6:50:15 PM PST by Admin Moderator. [history]
TRUCE
I have seen some really sick comments posted recently which encouraged the military to disobey orders. That is wrong. I strongly suggest that all active military step back and refrain in any way from taking advice over the Internet on a matter of this importance. Consult with your family attorney or a JAG advocate. This is my final statement on the matter. I pass on having anything to do with military suing over POTUS eligibility. I don’t have the resources to guide such a litigation, nor do I see that any court would ever provide true justice after what I’ve experienced with my case and Cort’s. I have absolutely NO faith in the US legal system. None. Nada. Zilch. Zippo. So I don’t see the point of subjecting our troops to legal harm for a case they will NEVER win in the cult’s courts. The military can deal with any situation in their own court system.
As for Obama and the cult, I have made myself known to you and given you enough to chew on for now. The truth should be starting to sink in. Please don’t show up at my chess matches anymore unless you are entering the tournament.
I will now go on to display power via chess, poker, golf, film, art and music. The power I represent through my art is the boss. There is no other. God is champion of the universe. God is accurate, precise, all knowing, all powerful and prepared to prove that to you with a kiss.
You cannot change it. So Repent.
Take the power you have usurped and do some good with it. Everybody on this planet has a chance to redeem themselves.
I am now going to step away from the POTUS eligibility issue and move on with my life.
TRUE STORY
On Nov. 3, 2008, I went to SCOTUS to file my application for an emergency stay of the national election. I took a Greyhound bus from Baltimore to Washington, D.C. because I was afraid to use Amtrak where I would have had to present ID for a ticket. I took that bus to the Greyhound station in Washington DC and walked from there to Union Station.
I felt that my life was in danger because I knew that if I could get my case filed before 4:30PM, there was a chance, a remote but genuine chance, that if the SCOTUS rules were followed, my case could stop the general election. As you all know, the SCOTUS rules were not followed when a clerk tried to overrule the SCOTUS precedent from McCarthy v. Briscoe.
I had previoulsy felt the evil operate against my case in the NJ Appellate Division where I experienced sabotage I never thought possible. I felt the full force and power of the cult as it tried to stop my case from having proper procedural ground to move on to SCOTUS.
In the days leading up to Nov. 3, 2008… my cell phone and that of a family member were subjected to treachery that only somebody with serious power could have accomplished. Because of the dual attacks upon my sanity, I came to Washington D.C. with fear in my heart, but I was not about to stop. Nothing short of a bullet was going to stop me from filing that application on Nov. 3, 2008.
On the Greyhound bus to DC, I had made a plan to pay for a tourist trolley ticket to take me one stop from Union Station to SCOTUS. I figured I would be safer blending in with tourists rather than being alone.
Before leaving for DC the night before, I died my hair blond, shaved, put on rock and roll clothes and stuffed the copies of my application in a hole through the pockets of my jacket which hid the documents in my back.
I looked nothing like the attorney who had been in the Hughes Justice complex all week in New Jersey.
But I made one mistake.
I had my electronic passport in my sneaker. I walked into Union Station to purchase a $35 trolley ticket and probably set off an RFID tracker.
I waited outside of Union Station for the trolley. At approximately 2:45 PM, just after I had purchased my ticket inside the station, I was sitting next to a white homeless man with a grey beard in his 50’s. He had two shopping carts full of clothes, food, radio etc., apparently his life possessions. We were the only two people sitting on this stone circle just outside the station. Suddenly, the homeless man starts gibbering some kind of weird code. He sounded like this,
“Echo one four two seven, target is in the building, repeat target is in the building…”
Then he paused and I looked up and a big SUV had pulled up right next to us, and two BIG mofos in yellow gold shirts got out of the SUV, opened the back door and started putting on body armor and packing mega heat… all the while they are scouring the area for the “target”.
The homeless man is talking to them through a device in his battered shirtsleeve,
“No point in wasting time, I want to get paid for this, target is in the building… Ok, but I thought you might want to just get the target, repeat — target is in the building, target is in the building. Stop wasting time out here.”
He was mixing in code talk with things I could understand.
Finally, these Blackwater types in yellow who had no badges or official insignia head into Union Station carrying full weapons.
I’m having a heart attack. They looked straight at me at least twice but I looked like such a clown. If they were looking for the brown haired bearded intellectual looking lawyer guy who was in court that week there’s no way they would recognize me with shocking platinum hair in my face, a dayglo blue jacket, flared jeans and trainers.
I am a chameleon.
I also had no visible paperwork with me. It was in the back of my jacket and my back was pressed against the stone circle.
When they entered Union Station, the homeless guy turns towards me and hits a button on his cell device and suddenly he’s on speakerphone. The conversation is between him and some woman wherein he’s trying to get confirmation that his payment has been credited to his account. He gives me a sly look, and with that my trolley comes.
I get on the trolley and open my tourist brochure to cover my face. Then I have to sit there for five excrutiating minutes while various people discuss with the dirver whether they should take the tour tonight or tomorrow. Honestly folks, I thought right then and there, “Your life aint worth shit, Leo. You are a walking dead man.”
When I finally got to the steps of SCOTUS, I was prepared to have my head blown off walking up those steps. I was a ***** mess. Seriously. The paranoia was so intense. I even asked for official protection.
I don’t know if they were just trying to scare me, really meant to take me down, or if it was all a coincidence. I’m sure there’s a video tape of it somehwhere. This is 100% true.
After the case was filed, I was followed for weeks. I had choppers over my home every night for hours. It was the typical black helicopter story in spades. But my whole family witnessed the choppers night after night.
The cult knew my case was strong. And it eventually got on every major news network and brought the one issue they had kept silent to the forefront of the nation — the fact that Obama was a dual citizen at birth.
OK, so now he’s POTUS. Many people voted for him. The messiah vibe is an archetype people are prone to fall for. But Obama is not the Messiah. (And if they try to make him one, the “Obama Has A Twin” song will be a number 1 hit througout the land. Just kidding.)
There’s not going to be a one world religion.
It will never be allowed by the one true God. He doesn’t mind the diversity of truly pious people. He loves us all.
I worship Jesus, but I don’t believe Jesus will condemn those who don’t worship him as long as they are pious good people who follow the number one teaching. Love one another. Love your enemies.
Good luck, Obama. If you’re going to change something, then change the cult. You aint “the One”, but try to be a good President. The standard for being a good President isn’t very high.
Word Up.
Beware of charlatans.
Much love to all. And I mean all.
Leo C. Donofrio, Esq. Currently admitted to practice law in New Jersey and in Federal District Court.
It’s a guess, of course. I don’t know. But have you read the poem he published in the student newspaper at Occidental College? It’s called “Pop,” and given the fact that he was known to spend evenings with his whiskey-drinking mentor, who wrote a book confessing to a variety of sexual perversions, including the habit of molesting small boys, it seems likely that he was abused as a child.
In addition, he had no real father and a highly dysfunctional family, which also tends toward turning boys homosexual—though of course it doesn’t guarantee it.
Here’s the text of the poem, which was actually reprinted by the NY Times last year, perhaps not realizing what it appears to be about:
POP
Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
I’m sure he’s unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
His joke, so I ask why
He’s so unhappy, to which he replies...
But I don’t care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shrink, my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ’cause
I see my face, framed within
Pop’s black-framed glasses
And know he’s laughing too.
He should have applied an extra layer of tin foil in order to foil the Dual Attack.
Well said.
Of all the things to speculate on, you choose this. Hmmm.
But have you read the poem he published in the student newspaper at Occidental College?
No. I don't have time to read 3rd rate poetry.
Ha ha! I guess some people aren’t very curious, are they. With an additional “subtle” smear on your “motives”.
Heck, there are enough hints about 0bama’s sexual orientation that a blind and deaf person would have picked up on it.
Did you see the photo of 0bama and his “well built” (his own words) Pakistani room mate? Sharing one third of the couch together? The room mate who now fund raises for community theater?
“the vast government conspiracy with the homeless”
“filing paperwork with the court”
You’re trying too hard—the exaggeration gives you away. I don’t think Alinsky would have approved. You’ve got to work on this.
“looney tunes paperwork”
You can’t accurately label something “looney tunes” if you do not show some manner of chaos, strangeness or other sign of insanity.
Donofrio’s writing is clear, concise and logical.
This is a very poor effort on your part. Alinsky would ban you from posting if he were still living.
Let’s go over your posting assignment—you are to draw attention away from the notion that Obama would naturally use the most sophisticated level of tactical offense in order to protect his presidency, and the fact that Obama and his army of lawyers have spent a fortune on blocking Donofrio’s efforts.
Just do it, don’t ask questions.
Most guys, when asked their favorite food, would not answer: arugula.
That was his FAVORITE food?! Even people who like arugula (and I don’t think there are many) would never say it’s their favorite! I think he is an obsessive liar, not just a liar when it’s useful. Can’t tell the truth about anything, except by accident. I’ve known people like that, they are downright dangerous to be around, often “charming” and always have dramatic tales about their lives which, oddly enough, are different each time they dramatically recount them.
Judgment call here, folks. But I think we have a winner. And consider the question, "Would any straight guy..."
And also, if the homeless guy was reporting to the “Blackwater types” why didn’t he tell them who the target was? Why did he let them go into the building. This guy sounds like a bit of a loon.
Why would he have his passport in his shoe?
I have no idea why.
And what is your source that Obama has spend a fortune to block Donofrio’s efforts?
And does that fortune include the cost of the armed men in the SUV that Leo claims followed him and does that include the money spend on the black helicopters flying over Leo's house?
The point is not that Leo carries his U.S. Passport in his shoe, but rather that you now need a passport to travel on the Greydog Bus from Philly to D.C.
Then why not keep your opinions to yourself, if you can’t be bothered with the facts?
Ain't it?? In a sad, pitiful, very scary kind of way...
I'm just guessing, but....
When he would arrive at the Supreme Court building, he would probably need good ID to identify himself as he submitted his motion with the clerk.
But en route to the SC, he did not want to be easily identified. Probably carried either no ID in his pockets or maybe even someone else's non-photo ID.
BTW: Again, I do believe Mr. Donofrio has been getting some kind of Obama/DNC/Chicago thug harassment over the past few weeks. Anyone remember the Clintons making Linda Tripp's cat "disappear?"
But, that said, I do not believe that the undercover & SWAT cops at Union Station were looking for Donofrio. I think that was just purely coincidental, and pushed a nervous guy to imagine all kinds of things.
Hence, I don't think it had anything to do with the passport's RFID.
Occam's razor. Like I said before: seven cents.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.