There Will Be So Much More, I told you, I will grind you into the dirt.
It has only just begun.
Can You Imagine
And they did this on a mass scale, I have hundreds of thousands of photos, representing every countries womenfolk on the Earth.
Little Albo was happy making plenty of moolah.
He must have known, no one is that ignorant of something that has been happening since the arrival of the first fleet.
Dirty little Marky boy, just can’t seem to leave me alone for some quiet time,loser.
What’s the matter, dirty little Australian politicians, don’t you feel comfortable supplying product to the world anymore.
Bye, Bye, Mr. Carnegie, Monsieur Pierre, if you would, s’il vous plait.
You maggot disease ridden verminous devils, rot in hell.
Ghosts of Those Long Gone
They say that a person named J Watkins from South Australia knows something and is responsible for that officers disappearance, I don’t know, the three men who assaulted that lovely lady in Scullin in the back of a white van, live in Wodonga, a middle eastern man, a man named Paul Parmenter, who was in that Scullin cafe one day, and shouted that she was going to be a 350 bum, meth whore, I warned her and filed a report, Ian McKillop, McKinnon, involved, at the top, Mikleborrough, Mickleburgh, who knows, I only go by the evidence. They wanted me to look at more of those filthy photos, thousands of them, from every country on the Earth, I said get fucked, I can’t look at any more, I’m too traumatised, my girlfriend, nailed to the wall up near Horsham, by locals they say, and her brother, who knows. I no longer hear the voices of the children in the bush, they marched past one day and now I no longer hear them.
A Hero, gone but never forgotten.
Was it Cobargo, I don’t know, hot, no water, two NSW police officers assisted me to move my car off the road, out of danger. They asked if I needed anything and I replied that I was out of water, they said they would send some. I was out of petrol and a Good Samaritan came by and donated some, I said I would pay him back, he left me his number, but they stole it from my wallet. Late in the evening a Sargeant from the local station arrived, he looked tired and we had a short chat, he gave me a bottle of water and said it was in short supply. We didn’t say anything to each other, but we both knew, he was going to his death, shot to pieces when he returned to his outpost station, he left and I wished him a good night. I returned to my car and sat staring into the darkness, my heart was heavy, knowing that a brave officer had gone to his death, my condolences, R.I.P, my brief and solemn mate, gone to the grave.
Hay, NSW, Australia.
Just filed a report to crimestoppers NSW, child brothel in Balranald, clients arrive at Sandy Point Camping Ground, shuttle to Balranald in early morning, Father Newton and Mr Barry accused by voices in the dark, meth amphetamine is rife, 12 children missing, Michael and his dirty little mates next to the Hay visitor information centre, four houses to the left, one over the back, centre for The Cabal, etc, help if you can, surrounded by Catholic priests and brothers and dirty little paedophiles, over and out.
Hay, NSW, and the dirty little paedophile ring known as the Cabal therein.
Well I’m in Hay at the moment, surrounded by dirty, filthy, disgusting, rapist paedophiles, I have alerted the authorities, and still dirty little Michael, and I am not sure if that is even his name, is still screaming in the distance fucking up my iPad, for about the thousandth time. There are dirty cops selling Cocaine, there is a dirty little child brothel run by the Catholic Church in Balranald, where the filthy little paedophiles come down to the Sandy Po8nt camping ground in there new, and I mean brand new, mobile homes, caravans, cars, with buckets of money from somewhere, aboriginal people are murdered Willy nilly, children are raped by dozens of disgusting dirtbags and nothing is done. That is the rumour mill that is bandied at me, I don’t go by dirty little gay bar loiterers that scream all through the night at me, but I do have hundreds of thousands of photos of people from all over the world being raped to death of all ages. Everyone receives their thousand dollars a day to keep their mouths shut, and I seem to be the only one who cares about protecting the children, women and country and planet. Bye for now.
Did You Enjoy Torturing Me, Dirty Little Marky Boy?
He found the photos, the worst he had ever seen, photos of Mass Rapes, women tied up like hogs, hogtied they called it on the site. Thousands and thousands of photos of women, teenage girls, all beautiful, raped and tortured to death. Pack rape scenes, a young teenage girl from Balranald, so they said from the darkness, in the night, by unseen faces. He had found one of the photos, a young teenage girl, blonde, lying on a bed, white bars, half circle. There were four men, masks, black stockings over their heads, one had his face exposed, Mr. Carnegie they called him, from Melbourne, and it was The Famous Four, as they called themselves, who had broken in the family home in the night, and pleased themselves first with the young girl, then let the other more violent men in to go at her hard. She had been bound and gagged, screaming in fear and pain, she was taken to a house in the town, hung upside down with her two teenage friends, then they were brought down to The Famous Fours units, shackled to the floor, and raped by 35 AIDS victims, who also had multiple other veneral diseases. All this happened whilst he slept, he did not believe much of it at all, he stuck to the facts, doors slamming in the night, taunts, missing food, money, hacked bank accounts, missing items. He heard them bragging that they would be getting $332 dollars this morning, for their Meth or Ice, that was the other day, he had an advance payment coming in from his pension, $332 dollars to be exact. He had been gassed on the Sunday, and had slept, sitting in his chair from 6 o’clock in the morning, to Midnight that same night, he had slept sitting bolt upright for some 18 hours. He knew he had been attacked, he found all his accounts compromised, could not even access his Gmail, but he beat them, they said he even beat their best hacker, world class, Thomas Landry, or some such name, he had never heard of him or is name, but he beat him and tunnelled through their firewall and found their dirty stash of thousands of women and teenage girls, anally gang raped, tied up, held in cages, in torture boxes, buried up to their necks, and the filthy photos numbered in the hundreds of thousands, I work for God, and my job is to save this planet from destruction.
Die Horopomo Die, Homocidal, Rapist, Paedophile Homosexuals.
The four rats, surrounded him on all sides, daily he would return to Unit 3, always something missing. He would wake up with bruised ankles, feeling drugged, food missing, and all through the night he would hear doors slam from the nearby flats. Voices in the dark, always stopping him from meditating, practicing Tai Chi, working on his computers, his job was to get the evidence, find the proof and let the public decide on the perpetrators fate. He heard the rats next door, to his left, to his right, out the front and back, stopping him from looking at an ordinary old boring, very mild porn site, they would pump Ecstacy gas into his unit, just so that he had to have a wank to some legal, mild porno, And they would laugh at him as they watched from their hidden cameras or Thermal Imaging Devices,always the same, never that exciting, never is, not having a girlfriend. He had vowed 25 years ago to never have a girlfriend or wife again, they had always disappeared in the past, his fiancée moved in next door many years ago, with two homosexuals who were also paedophiles, she was used as a pin cushion, girl for sale, another of his girlfriends, left suddenly, lured away by the offer of a trip to Egypt, with a man who also sold her as a pin cushion. He had many names, but he told no one anything, he had filed multiple reports in two states, showed the police the photo of the girl in a cage, their reply was that they preferred to leave those four to their own devices. He was The Man from U.N.C.L.E, The Man from Uncle, The United Nations Command for Law and Enforcement.
So You Want To Know Where Your Wife, Daughter, Sister, Mother Went Too?
This will take some computer expertise,
On an iPad,
1.Download/From the App Store/OrBot Tor VPN/Developer, The Tor Project, Number 188-Utilities-117.2. MB-Utilities
2.Download/Tor Browser-OrNET Onion+VPN-Deveoper Stronger Apps-282.6 MB-Number-128 Productivity Version 4.0.11.
3.Download DuckDuckGo Browser-Load as principal-first browser to use,
4.Load OrBot-Press/VPN Mode/Press-Chose How To Connect-Click-Built In Bridges_Chose Obfs4_Scroll Down_Click Save/Click Start/Wait till connected,
5.Load OrNet Browser/Then on the Right Side/Press VPN/Then on the Left Side Press the Globe button-Should have DuckDuckGo as your Browser-If not-Go to settings on iPad, find Browser settings-Chose DuckDuckGo as first or Principal Browser,
6.In Settings on your iPad-Load or pick TorBrowserOrNet2 as Device VPN,
7.Go to Safari Browser-Enter Search Term/Pornpics/will take you to Google or other/click on first heading,
8.In the Search bar/Type-Mass Gangbang,Teen Force, Bondage, Teen Bondage, BDSM etc.
9.Afterwards-try to compose yourself-Adios Amigos/Good Hunting/Over and Out.
The HOROPOMO and The Meth Lab
The HOROPOMO, the homocidal, rapist, paedophile, metrosexuals comprised of mostly homosexuals and tasty lesbians, mostly. Though some lesbians did sport moustaches, all the metrosexuals were decidedly insane, particularly the homosexuals,took humongous amounts of drugs, drank copious amounts of alcoholic beverages, lied to everybody, everything and even to the walls, mostly Gyprock walls, known also as plasterboard, just one at a time because a whole room was too onerous a burden to hurl abuse at, at the same time, and if they did, they would wheel around and exhaust themselves trying to keep up the pace that they levelled at four walls at a time. They were known as Gyprock haters, drywall abusers, and the killers of the four walls of Antioch. Such was their intense hatred towards the termite army, seemingly lurking in the walls, that they hurled abuse at them nightly, their cries echoing down the deserted streets, deserted because the local inhabitants dared not venture forth in the darkness for fear of being carried away and eaten in a rather repulsive dish of Stewp, a cross between Soup and Stew, made from water, cooked in a half 44 gallon drum with old vegetables, packets of herbs and spices, opened or not, a liberal sprinkling of body parts and lashings of Methyl Amphetimine or the illicit drug Ice, sleeping during the day, waking in the early evening and venturing about the local neighbourhood to assault anything that was still alive, often mistaking rubbish as old friends who had fallen on hard times. “Old friend”, they would murmur to a pile of rubbish, “You seem like you’re a bit down, I’d like to help you out but I’m skint at the moment”, and would open up their wallet, showing their friend how empty it was indeed and sauntering off into the distance.
It was a rather commonplace day that particular day, around him in a 360 degree arc came the invasive and continuous cries of “Blow it out your fucking arse Henry, we hate your guts, we don’t want him to do anything at all, we brutally murdered, raped, tortured and ate all your girlfriends from your past, we poisoned you, we sterilised you, we robbed you of everything and made millions off of your work”, and a generous round of hearty and generally obnoxious cries of, “Too fucking bad”, it was like a wall of sound that threatened the entire Galaxy and did indeed put a damper on his ability to get anything done at all, even writing a single line required a Herculean attempt accompanied by a tremendous output of energy, massive amounts of patience, and endless entreaties to every God, Spirit, Elder and Insect on the planet to get anything done at all. It took him 45 years to just work out how to keep them out of his house just so he could get a single nights sleep, or even a few hours or even just 2 hours sleep, and all the time, dealing with constant abuse, being the daily victim of rape, so they said, as they taunted him, dealing with the constant theft of his possessions, work, food, girlfriends, all eventually going missing. Such was the case that long ago he decided not to have another girlfriend because they had all been lured away and supposedly forced into prostitution and eventually brutally pack raped, tortured and murdered and their bodies eaten, that was what they said to him as they hurled abusive comments at him 24 hours a day and night.
Some days he had a win against the hordes of the Devil worshipping morons, and this indeed was one of those days. He was going about his business, dodging bullets, blow darts and well trained assassins by the dozen, when he heard the genial cry of, “Can you turn off the water”, he didn’t pay too much attention to it and went about his daily chores. He was washing up and doing some general cleaning of his ultra small but sufficiently sized unit when the more blatant cry of an appeal for him to turn off the tap in the kitchen was levelled at him. He did enquire why he should turn off his own tap, as he was indeed busy cleaning up the kitchen which had recently been invaded while he was out by several thousand thieves, photographers, police, detectives from around the world, several alien races and a herd of angry Buffalo who had recently been anally raped by wild Mincy boys as they grazed and slept. He did refuse to stop washing and cleaning up and the far off cries grew louder, he stopped and looked down, “Oh, you are, aren’t you,” he said to an unknown dweller of a hitherto unknown subterranean labyrinthine chamber, and turned the hot water tap on in the kitchen sink, the cries grew louder, he then poured a generous amount of white vinegar down the sink, waited a while, then emptied a generous amount of bi-carbonate of soda down the sink afterwards, he washed that down the sink with hot water, then scrapped some pigeon droppings off the massive steel T trusses that he had procured to put into place against the front and back door to stop the depredations of the Mincy Boys and waited a few moments. There was the incredibly heartening and heart warming sound of a muffled explosion from down below the floor of his unit, from deep down below where a Meth lab had been constructed and was in use as he went about his day. They had been siphoning water from his tap, and their cries to turn off the water had given their little plot away, and soon he heard the very vocal and abusive screams of, “We hate your guts, Henry”, from singed Mincy boys, burnt cretins, and toasted morons who had been ‘Cooking’ up rather large batches of Meth or Ice, deep down below his unit. As they hastened past, close by on their way to a hospital or some sort of medical help, their hair burnt away, their clothes smouldering and some suffering from second degree burns, he let cry with a cheery “Smokin, Mincy boys”, the resulting addition of a few salient elements, that I just happened to serendipitously acquire during the previous few days and weeks, the super phosphate being the prime catalyst for the IED, (Improvised Explosive Device), did the job nicely, blowing up a rather large laboratory that was manufacturing Methyl Amphetimine or Ice, some 45 feet or 15 metres below the floor of my unit. Some days are diamonds, some days are stone as the song said.
Does Hell Beckon, Losers, You Worship Satana, His House is Hot, Damm Hot.
That’s your master, Minncy Boys, that’s who you worship, brain dead cretins, enjoy your Sunday roast, losers.
Balranald, sleepy town in New South Wales, Australia, 2715. He had arrived battered, exhausted and in need of a rest, he had been robbed, raped, slandered, abused, lied too, lied about and everywhere he went he had been surrounded by the most disgusting and vilest of criminals, those belonging to The Firm, his older brothers corrupt paedophile gang, comprised of rapists, drug dealers, and every low life form of criminal known to humanity. Ever since he was born and before, he had been abused, those around him had suffered the same fate, all his relatives attacked without mercy, all his friends, drugged, robbed, raped, sent insane, all because they thought that he was going to be the Father of the Messiah. He had never been told that he would be, but they were convinced of the fact that he was going to be the Father of The Second coming of Christ. At times he thought, well why not me, later on in life, but not when he was young, they had brainwashed him into thinking he was a paedophile, raped and drugged him for years, and surrounded him with the worst low life, idiot, brain dead cretins that had been known to have existed on The Earth for two thousand years. Not since the days of that despicable Roman Empire, albeit off to a good start, but corrupted by power and control, the Eagle soaring high above, The Standard raised, symbolising the all seeing eye of power and control above all that was surveillance Demus, below that majestic bird.
They raged long into the night, screaming like banshees that had been stabbed in the nether regions, drinking heavily, sucking down huge amounts of Methyl Amphetamine, or Ice as that disgusting poisonous and illicit drug is known, long into the night. A cyber attack on his computer accompanied to cries of, “We don’t want him to do anything, we hate his guts, he dobbed in Marky boy, just because he had his daughter caged in an iron cage, taken on the back of a truck to Broken Hill with a sign saying ‘For Sale’, raped endlessly in Queensland on an isolated back block, seventy-five men at a time travelling to Queensland to rape her stupid, till she was bereft of any intelligence, then made into a toilet, men shitting in her mouth and making her drink their urine, brainwashed to the point that when the Police finally found her, all she could do was point with her finger at her mouth and say, “Feed me master, hungy’ time, me want poo for din dins”, they put a bullet in her head, because that was the best thing to do for the poor wretched young woman. This was done because Marky boy had told her to prostitute herself to his fellow gang banging members, she had refused and fled to Queensland, pursued and hunted down by their depraved criminals, and punished for disobeying Lord God Almighty, Marky boy himself, devil worshipping, Satan glorifying loser himself, who sold drugs, put the hit on people, produced the most disgusting pornography in the world, all for the sake of making a few dollars more. He had seen the photo of that disgusting slag, squatting over the young woman’s mouth, excrement coming out of his backside, with the young woman lying on the ground naked, with her mouth open, waiting to receive her daily bread.
They screamed long into the night, smoked huge amounts of Methyl Amphetimine, every time he left his unit they ran outside, or drove off into the distance somewhere, every day his unit was broken into and something stolen. He could hear them making comments, saying to their drug addled friends, “I just needed a biscuit, I haven’t eaten in three days, I’ve got a million and a half in my bank, hidden of course, but I’m not spending that, that’s for my getaway house up north, I won’t be touching that”. They screamed at everyone in Balranald, “He’s a serial Paedophile, he’s a homosexual, he smokes Meth Amphetimine, he raped my neighbour, I told the Police but he’s way too smart for them”, and the horrendous lies continued. He did not even have any criminal convictions, had never been to jail, was not a homosexual, was not a paedophile and certainly did not take illegal drugs. He had been investigating those demented losers for forty-five years, gathering evidence on their activities, simply because it was the only thing he could to protect himself from their despicable activities. No-one helped, no one came, the Police never talked to him, every sort of Institution was paid off to help The Paedophile Nation wanted to take down The Planet Earth and turn it into a living hell of paedophilia, drugs, rape, torture and murder, and they all willingly obliged, from Prime Ministers to Police, all receiving large sums of money to create their lofty dream of a living hell on Earth.
He had found some three thousand photographs, videos, chatroom transcripts, names, address, and nothing was done, even the covert agencies tasked with the job of protecting the Earth had succumbed to the lure of profit over morality, all fell into the pit, hell beckoned, but they did not heed his words, to turn away from their evil ways and become followers of The Way Of The Lord Almighty, The Universe and Nature.