#ihate bringing him up around her

[nemo-is-real]

how do i tell my mom trump's "personal" views stop being personal when he tries to like. put them into the law

[starberrybliss]

For You

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Lexie Scott) Word Count: 1,205 words Summary: MC and Ethan talk about what will possibly happen to his future at the hospital and the trial. Warnings: slight swearing Author’s Note: So I got this idea from the latest chapter of Open Heart, and I just had to write it even if it sucks, lol.

___________________

The night after Lexie got the news of Ethan’s suspension and the upcoming trial, Lexie paced back and forth in her room, her mind racing with worried thoughts, about Ethan. She looked at her phone, she tried calling and texting him but her calls just went to voicemail, and her texts left unread. She wanted to give him space, but the worry was just eating at her, if she wanted to talk to Ethan she would just have to talk to him in person. Calling one last time, with no answer, Lexie put on her shoes, grabbed her purse and keys, and left the apartment. The cab ride to his apartment felt excruciating, she fiddled her fingers wondering why he wasn’t answering his phone, a million different reasons why raced through her mind. She was so lost in thought she didn’t even notice the cab stopping in front of Ethan’s apartment. Stepping out of the cab she made her way to the door, pushing the buzzer once she waited for a response. As suspected nothing. She pushed it again. “Ethan? It’s Lexie, I know you’re home, and I’m not leaving till you let me up.” After another minute of silence, the buzz of the door opening disturbed. Pushing through Lexie walked through the door and up to Ethan’s apartment. Making her way towards his door she didn’t even have time to knock when the door swung open. Ethan looked tired, he was still in his day clothes, probably due to all the board meetings for the trial, Lexie thought. Ethan turned around walking back into the threshold hold of his apartment leaving the door open for Lexie. Closing the door, she followed him into the kitchen. “Well its good to see that you’re at least alive.” Lexie spoke sarcastically. Ethan scoffs and goes to pour a glass of scotch, “the silent treatment?really?” Stepping up to the counter next to him. “You could’ve texted me back at least,” she sighs, “I was worried— I *am* worried about you.” Ethan looked down in his drink, swirling it around before speaking, “Ihate texting you know that.” “You could’ve called then.” Lexie fiddled with her shirt “I did what I had to do.” He threw back his drink swallowing it in one gulp. “It helped save someone’s life and that’s all that matters. You don’t need to ask, what I know you want to ask.” “That’s not all that matters,” Lexie said stepping closer to him. “What about *you*? Your career, your future!” She looked up into his eyes, anger and worry overwhelming her. Lexies voice was close to shouting but she didn’t care, the only thing she cared about was the man in front of her, this stupid stubborn man. Maybe it was selfish, but she didn’t care about the patient or anyone right now, only the man that she had fallen in love with. Ethan *freaking* Ramsey. She hadn’t even realized she was in love with him till recent events forced these feelings out from deep inside. Ethan looked right back into her eyes, annoyance laced his own, with the slight surprise lingering in them. “I don’t care what happens to me, whatever happens to me doesn’t matter,” He shook his head, “A patient will have a chance to live now.” Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to cry, not right now in front of him. “*I* care what happens.” She sniffed, “*I* care about you, and I don’t want you to be hurt or to go through this, especially all alone.” Ethan looked away, unable to look at Lexie, the scared and desperate look and sound in her voice broke him, but he had to push her away, he couldn’t let her be at risk for his doing, he wouldn’t drag her down with him. “You shouldn’t worry about me.” “Don’t push me away Ethan,” tears spilled down her cheeks, Lexie wiped them away frantically the next words out of her mouth spill out before she can stop them, “I will not let you, the man I love go through this alone.” Tears continued to streak down her face, she looked up into his eyes, searching for something. Anything, that would have him lower his walls. Ethan looked at her with shocked wide eyes. “What? What did you just say?” He stood frozen looking right in her eyes. Lexies own eyes grew big, she just realized what had slipped from her mouth, she started to panic, terrified she might have scared Ethan away, that he would push her away even more then he was. “I-I said wont let you go through this alone.” She took a small step back, being that close to him, made her knees weak. She hoped this would cover it. Of course though, he couldn’t be fooled. Ethan took a step forward bringing his hand up to her face but hesitating to touch. “No, before that.” His voice was barely a whisper. Lexie looked down at her shoes, her cheeks hot from embarrassment. Ethan placed both hands on her face forcing her to look up at him. Wiping away the lingering tears in the corner of her eyes with her thumbs he spoke softly once more, “did you mean it?” Lexie let out a shaky breath before nodding. “Of course I meant it, I’m in love with you Ethan, I always have been.” Ethan let out a shaky breathe, leaning forward he placed his forehead on hers. “Lexie..” his voice trembled, the heat of his breath against her mouth made her shiver, but she didn’t dare to make a move. “Lexie,” he said her name again, desperate and full of longing. He pulled away looking in her now red, puffy eyes. She still looked beautiful even when she was crying. “You’re making this hard for me,” sighing he stroked her face, she leaned into his touch. “I won’t drag you down with me, I love you too much for you to be a risk.” Lexies eyes grew wide, “Y-you love me too?” Ethan let out a little sigh, “remember during your intern year and you helped me test out the FMRI scanner?” He gently brought her in his arms whispering in her hair. “You asked me who I loved most in the world, at the time I didn’t realize it, but its you. You’re who I love the most.” He brushes his lips against hers. “You are the only person who matters, which is why I won’t let you stand by me and risk you coming down with me.” Lexie pulled away from him, gently bringing her hand to his face a stroking the rough stubble on his cheek. “Ethan I love you so much, and I’m sorry, but you won’t be getting rid of me, I already told you, I go where you go.” She smiled, “body and in life. So sorry you’re stuck with me.” Ethan looked at her with adoration, knowing that she was going to stay by him no matter what, annoyed and warmed him. Chuckling, he brought his lips to hers, warmth over-taking them both, knowing that as long as they had each other, they would be ok.

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst​

I am the anon that sent those asks about this fanfic and said I would tag you so.

[breadbod]

Uuujggkdkfgksh

I'm so hurt

By my sister. We're mixed black and light latina. Okay so she is talking to this girl at a birthday party for our friend(mostly mine) they hit it off. Me being absolutely socially awkward lose my one chance to talk to and not be weird around this girl. So they go off to her room. Later bc I didn't know where she was. I went looking for her(knowing full well that I was being an annoying younger sibling) they're talking she acknowledges me in an annoyed way (understandabley so) I leave her alone... For a while this repeats maybe two times. Later when we were down stairs i figured out they were talking about hair. Kind of a thing with us so I try to get involved. My sister turns to me and says. "Black womans hair. Yours is too lose" and hustles away.

And it hurt. And I guess she's right. She's talked about me having "The perfect hair".

Obviously I don't.

But it hurt. Really bad. Ihate it ihate thinking this I cant identify with anything even other mixed girls I feel like Icant even belong there

I'm not black enough I don't know much about my roots or history or language. I suck I could be learning spanish but instead I do sudoku and puzzle games amd ignore the world and my loneliness and my not belonging and my suckiness my awfulness to my friends. I don't feel like a friend anymore. I'm not dependable I dont keep up with them. I'm selfish. I just can't bring myself to care anymore. It so hard and awkward to talk to my friends I feel like idotnknow them anymore and they probably feel the same. I'm failing myself and my family. With my education care of myself and friends and I know I don't do enough for my boys.(birds)

Zuzu is okay I know posted something about him a while back he is completely fine.

[alliesweetsong]

Catching Up

“There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship.” 

-Thomas Aquinas

“Thank you for you buisness as always Miss Sweetsong, see you tomorrow, same time?”  the shopkeep asks as she hands Allie a cup of Coffee. Accepting the cup the void elf nods and exchanges the requied coin for the drink. “Of course Miss Rayvenson” the Rendorei replies warmly. Opening the door back out to the street the bell on the handle sounds as Allie walks down the street. 

@serelia-evensong @eilitheduskbringer @rann-daybinder @householt  @thesistersdastorio @alexkestavin @mender-emilia @thepaletroll for mentions

Allie had much to smile about right now, which didn’t happen very often, she had purpose again being hired as ‘Enforcer’ of Dead Sun Harbor.  She stil couldnt believe it, spending most of the night at the harbor, learning the rules, learning the people. It all had felt like a dream. Until she woke with a hangover from the whiskey she had consumed. Deciding to go for a run Allie changes into something comfortable and starts sweating the hangover away, or so she thought. Stopping about mid way through her route the elf doubles over out of breath and starts towards the shop near her house.

Rounding the corner, the Rendorei starts for Serelia’s flat, it had been a few days since they last spoke, closer to a week in fact. She was excited as she walks up to the door of her friends apartment.

Knock Knock Knock

Three heavy hand falls on the wooden door would announce her arrival to Serelia inside. It takes a few long moments before the door is answered.  A padding of bare feet on wood, and the little door opens. Serelia stands in the door way wearing a long men’s tunic that hangs past her thighs, a few buttons undone at the top.  She looks tired, sleepy gaze, hair mussed as it falls around her shoulders.  “Hey Allie.”  She offers sleepily.  Behind her the room is basically empty, a few scattered boxes here and there with things sticking out of it but her flat seems mostly cleaned out.  Sere yawns, “haven’t seen you in a few days, how are you?”

Allie smiles warmly and nods "I am well Se'lia, I thought I would stop by, kind of missed you" she says before holding out the coffee. "How have you been?"

Sere happily accepts it, taking a sip and making an appreciative sound, eyes closing for a moment.  She glances at the sky behind Allie.  “I overslept.  Tired I suppose.  Rann and I have been working on a move.”  She gestures vaguely at the mostly empty place behind her.  “I’d invite you in but there’s not really anywhere to sit.”  The woman steps out into the street, closing the door behind her and leans against it, seemingly not bothered by her state of dress.  “How’re you?  You look happy today.”

Allie Smiles at that, and starts talking of the events in her life the past week, about Dead Sun Harbor and her new position within it. It was easy for her to get carried away, but she wasn’t here for herself, she missed her friend. Waving off her own news she flashes a warm smile at Serelia, “You and Rann seem to be getting serious now, moving in to your own place now?" she asks with a wink.

Allie’s friend nods in approval of the work that the young Rendorei found herself doing “Ihat sounds like rewarding work, I hope it works out for you.” She says before reminiscing fondly of both of their previous employer House Holt.  I’m in much the same spot, I love the Holts and their house, I just want to protect things that are more important to me.” Serelia says before quickly changing subjects

“Ah, not really our own place.  You know Haniya?  She’s a mender, yes, of course you’ve met her.  She’s insisted that he and I take her empty second floor.  Wants to be sure we’re somewhere secure and cared for, what with neither of us working at the moment.  She’s a very kind woman.”

Allie nods at that "I think I will get along just fine with this group, you should see the harbor, its hot and humid, but shadows is it nice." she says nodding in agreement "The Holts were nice people, and I really hope they are well, I have been thinking about reaching out to Miss Emilia, I miss her. I just feel as though I can help people better away from them, Leaving hurt, you know me and my uh, fondness for getting attached. myself and Alex had some nasty words for each other the last we spoke...i dont think we can ever be friends again sadly. But I will give it time, who knows." she says before smiling and pushing hair out of her face. before smiling  "Oh yes, I remember mis Haniya, that is nice of her! Can I still come visit? I can help you move if you would like." she says before slowly reaching into her pouch producing a smaller pouch "here, its not much eighty or so gold if I remember right, but that should help you and Rann for a while."

Serelia frowns, crossing arms under bust as she leans against her front door, "Allie, ever is a long time.  I can't think of a single conversation I've had in my life that is the deciding factor on me never speaking to someone again."  That's not exactly true, but the Void is a whole thing.  "Give it time, but not too much.  Mend fences early, or they fall further apart."  She says before waving off the offered pouch.  "I'm fine for funds, I've enough saved and I spend very little of it.  Hani is overworried, but the space is nice, it'll be good for us and the little one eventually, being so close to a mender."

Allie puts the pouch away and nods to her advice "Yea, I think i will try talking to him tomorrow at the children....." The Void pauses and blinks clearly registering what was said "Wait....little one, Se'lia...are you pregnant?" she asks as  the grind on face turns to a wide smile and her jaw drops

A hand moves down from her defensive crossed arms, to instead rest on her stomach, still toned and smooth under the tunic.  "Maybe."  Serelia says, offering a small fond smile. "It's too early to say for certain, but there have been signs. Haniya believes everything that is showing is enough reason to be cautious and treat it as though it's happening."  Sere opens her mouth gving another soft laugh and her other hand runs back through her violet hair, smoothing out the tangles her waves tend to get into.  "Few days ago I would've said I hope she's wrong.  Starting to feel like maybe I'd be disappointed if she was though. Thinking maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world to give family a shot."

Allie covers her mouth for a moment shocked before moving to her friend offering out her arms for a hug "Oh Se'lia, i'm so happy for you two, if you need any help please tell me." she says warmly. The void Rendorei's tone and even posture would be vastly different then just a few weeks ago. If Serelia was paying attention she would be able to discern that Allie was in fact even wearing perfume, which gave off a nice scent of of spring. "I think you will like the whole family thing, I know our last conversation about it wasn’t the best. But I think if you opened up your heart to it, you will enjoy it."

Serelia wraps arms around Allie, giving her a tight squeeze for a moment, enjoying the embrace before releasing her again, stepping back against the door.  "It's frightening.  I feel bad for Rann, he's young, and we've only been together a month or so.  I tried to give him the option to just let me handle this on my own, he shouldn't have to be obligated to it.  But he seems stubborn enough to insist he's sticking at my side through it.  I'm grateful to have him, I genuinely do love him, I just wish it wasn't such a big ask.  That's part of what family is, I suppose.  I'll be sure to let you know when I'm certain but, it seems like this is happening."

Allie nods tightly squeezing back in a fond manner before letting go, if allowed her left hand would find itself on Serelias stomach "Se'lia this is wonderful, you have a good man. I wish i wouldve talked to Rann more, I hope he doesn’t think I don't like him. He's someone to cherish Se'lia, im glad he is staying." She says before lightly messaging her friends stomach if allowed. "You two are perfect for each other, look how far you have come with him in a month, even Gareth...hes too stubborn to let me go through this life alone." she says shaking her head with a small grin. 

Sere nods, that fond smile still on her features."I do. He's incredible, I'm very fortunate he gave me a chance.  I'm not the easiest to love, but he makes me happy and it seems like I make him too."  Serelia stifles another yawn.  "Thank you for the coffee.  I'm going to go sleep some more though, I'm so tired lately, thank you for stopping by and checking in though.  I'm proud of you on the new job, I hope it works well for you."

Allie smiles and nods offering another warm hug "Thank you Se'lia, and I am proud of you too. perhaps we can go to dinner in a few days, my treat? Bring Rann too." she says before letting go "Sleep well dear."

Sere returns the hug, giving Allie a small squeeze.  "I'll see if he's up for it.  I doubt we're doing anything until we're settled in the new place, but I'm sure we can make it happen soon.  Have a good day Allie."  A tired smile, and Serelia lets herself back into her little flat.

As the door closes Allie doesnt a silent cheer dance, life was continuing to look better and better. But as a great friend once said, mend fences early and often, you never know when it will be gone for good.

(Thank you Serelia for the wonderful RP this morning I truly enjoyed myself and I cannot wait to see where things go!)

[herkingmentality-shesunbreakable]

NEW WORLD ORDERS There was "no time to lose" in bringing me back around to a functioning level. I knew I had work to do. Although I was to be "used up" by my 30th birthday, I do not believe it was Bush and Cheney's intention to expedite the process so quickly. Apparently it was their incompetence due to over- indulgence of drugs and subsequent abuse of Kelly in my presence that destroyed parts of my maternal-based programming. Regardless of their "excuse," Houston drove us to San Francisco, California where Temple of Set (Satan) founder U.S. Army Lt. Col. Aquino made some emergency "repairs". I was not taken to a hospital or a mental institution, but to a brain/mind research and development lab on the U.S. Army Reservation at Presidio. There are many facilities such as this one across the country at various CIA, military, and NASA compounds where hyper-advanced government knowledge is put to the test, developed and modified. Those I met who had expertly learned the scientific mechanics of the brain in conjunction with the ins and outs of the mind used their gained secret knowledge to manipulate and/or control others. The only thing Mark Phillips, Byrd, and Aquino had in common was the belief that "secret knowledge equals power". 1 Byrd explained to me that New World Order "powers were strengthened" by allowing the mental health community only partial and/or deliberate misinformation through their organization lobby, The American Psychiatric Association (APA), concerning treatment modalities for severe dissociative disorders being created through mind control! Per- petrators believed that withholding knowledge and the proliferation of deliberate misinformation allowed them control over their secrets, and subsequently over humanity. They may be correct if no one can or will react to the information presented in this book. Intended or not, I overheard a conversation pertaining to death and the mind between Aquino and a lab assistant as I lay on a cold, metal table in a deep hypnotic state, Aquino was saying that 1 had come close to death numerous limes which "increased my ability to enter other (mind) dimensions en route to death". I had listened to Aquino talk at length about such concepts before, as though he were trying to convince himself of some interdimensional time travel theory. "Whether in principle or in theory, the results are the same," he claimed. "The concept of time is abstract in itself." Hypnotic talk of past- present-future set my mind in a spin that, when combined with Alice In Wonderland/NASA mirror world concepts, created an illusion of timeless dimensions. I now know that the only "dimensions' I experienced were elaborate memory compartmentalizations of real, earthly events by real, earthly criminals, and certainly not by aliens, Satan, or demons. After moving me from the table to an elaborate box, Aquino then shifted my mind to another area of my brain, claiming to have taken me into another dimension by way of "death's door". This was accomplished while I was subjected to sensory deprivation combined with hypnotic and harmonic re- programming. The seemingly coffin-like structure was transformed in my mind to a crematorium, where 1 endured the sense of increasing heat while "I slowly burned" through hypnotic suggestion. Aquino then "pulled me through death's door" and into another dimension, "void of time". Parts of my programming were "recreated for the recreation of world leaders," i.e., U.S. President Reagan, Mexican President de la Madrid, and Saudi Arabian King Fahd. In my next recollection of awareness, Houston, Kelly, and I were in Hollywood, where Houston claimed the motor home "broke down" — an over used attempted memory scramble. He sent me down the street to telephone Michael Dante, who lived nearby in Beverly Hills. Dante was expecting Kelly and me to join him in his Beverly Hills mansion for several days as bad been previously arranged by our handler, Alex Houston. Kelly and I waited at the phone booth as instructed until Dante arrived to pick us up in his midnight blue Ferrari. As soon as I sat down, Dante said, "I got something for you, Baby, Give me your arm." Heroin was a common "vice" he shared with Bush, and he shot me up with the drug right in front of Kelly. Later that evening at his house, Dante told me that he refused to "handle damaged goods," and that he would not be my next handler as previously planned. Not only was I "not fit to live with" him, but I was not "fit to live" at all. I am not certain what he meant to accomplish by these threats, but I know in retrospect that this was not his decision to make. Besides, 1 never perceived existence with him and his professed "love" as a "future" anyway- Instead, he said he would go along with the original plan long enough to acquire Kelly". The next day, hours before I was to meet with de la Madrid, L.A, Dodgers baseball team manager Tommy LaSorda, George Bush, Jr., and star pitcher of Jr.'s Texas Rangers, Nolan Ryan (who was also a banker) were at Dante's house working out the details of money laundering and bank transactions for the imminent opening of the Juarez border cocaine, heroin, and white slavery route. The common bond of covert criminal activity overrode any professional baseball conflicts between them. All three were in town to be in attendance at various gatherings and parties of Reagan's, who would be arriving in a matter of days. And all three appeared to have an understanding of my function as Reagan's "Presidential Model" mind-control sex slave. Dante was gathering the necessary clothes and props for the evening rendezvous with de la Madrid. LaSorda, Nolan Ryan, and Jr. were standing in the entrance way of Dante's house attempting to activate my "Baseball Mind Computer" programmed personality fragment that had inadvertently been shattered by Bush and Cheney's traumas at Shasta. Dante told them, "She knows more about baseball than you and Tommy (LaSorda) put together. Go ahead and ask her something. Anything." Much to LaSorda's amusement, Nolan Ryan asked, "How many times does Fernando Valenzuela (Dodger pitcher) touch his hat if he's going to throw a srewgy (screw ball)?" I could not respond, although I had once known more statistical data than would ever be in print, Jr. hollered, "Hey, Dante". What's with your baseball computer here, huh? Are we supposed to say a magic word?" "I don't know," Dante responded. "Could be drugs. Her sex is working fine, though. Give it a whirl." Jr. declined, saying, "No thanks. The Baseball Computer sucks enough. Listen, we'll see you later." Jr. had never shown any interest in me sexually. Like his father, he had only shown sexual interest in Kelly, who had been away with him most of the day. As he turned to leave, he stroked me under the chin and cryptically said, "Have a Ball tonight". LaSorda, who had not been on his Ultra Slim Fast-sponsored diet yet, said, "Speaking of balls, mine could use a little attention here." He unzipped his pants. Dante told me, "We gotta get dressed. Three minutes." Three minutes was a trigger for me to perform a specific, oral sex act. I knelt on the floor and pushed up LaSorda's enormous belly, resting it on my head as I groped for his penis as ordered. Dante's two Great Danes came in as Jr. and Nolan Ryan left I had been forced to participate in a bestiality film with these sex-trained dogs earlier that day, and I had to fight them off as I sexually gratified LaSorda before getting ready for "the Ball". ! Mark Phillips explained to me that, by revealing their "secrets" their power would diminish. "Good always prevails through positive application, whereas the bad guys are hindered and slowed in their criminal endeavors through having to cover-up their negative actions with lies to support lies. This inevitably allows the truth to emerge," Mark said. CHAPTER 27 HOTEL CALIFORNIA Dante threw me a short, red, slinky dress with rhinestone straps and a pair of "glass slippers" to wear to "Cinderella's Ball", The shoes, like Oz ruby, slippers and Philip Habib's "magic lightening boll" shoes, were to trance-form me into the personality fragment ihat had been pre-programmed for the event, Dante escorted me to the party/"Ball" where I was to meet with Mexican President de la Madrid. Dante had been bragging about his "second home in Malibu" ever since I first met him, and the place was opulence personified. I do not know who actually owned "his" second home in Malibu, California, but Reagan's influence was evident in the decor. From the front, the white stucco house gave the illusion of being two-story. The view overlooked a secluded Pacific bay, and revealed three levels built into a cliff. Through the smoked glass wall panels that spanned the back, the three stories, lavishly carpeted in red, white, and blue provided a patriotic view. All levels had a beige- white interior decorated in gold and crystal. An enormous chandelier hung from the "cathedral ceiling, illuminating all three levels at once from the greatroom which overlooked the bay. I was told that Uncle Ronnie (Reagan) would be arriving the next day. It was my "patriotic duty" to attend de la Madrid's welcome party and "wear down any resistance he may have" in order that Reagan's business meeting with him would "go smoothly". This was not the first time I heard this excuse for being politically prostituted, nor would it be the last. In reality, I was to do the initial dirty work, delivering messages, and encourage de la Madrid lo use drugs and party with abandon. The diplomatic relations between the U.S. and Mexico were already strong, but this phase of the operation requited total commitment from de la Madrid. Dante and I waited at the top of the staircase as de la Madrid, accompanied by two bodyguards, climbed to the red level of the house. I greeted de la Madrid, "Welcome to the U.S. and (seductively) welcome to the Hotel California." His deep-throated laugh indicated he had been cued to the ramifications of my cryptic statement. "Hotel California," taken from a popular song by the Eagles, stated "you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave." To de la Madrid this confirmed the permanency of his involvement in the criminal, covert operations in which he was conspiring. Blackmail was openly initiated to ensure that each criminal participant understood that if one fell, they all fell. Maintaining "dirt" on each other through this Mafia- style method was seemingly the only way these criminals implementing the New World Order kept each other "honest." De la Madrid and I went into a nearby bedroom, followed by Dante and the bodyguards. Dante then activated the programmed message instilled at the Shasta resort from Bush to de la Madrid. I recited, "If you please, Sir, I have a message to deliver to you from the Vice President of the United States. Welcome to our Neighborhood. As you know, Salinas and 1 have worked out the details towards implementing our plan to open the Juarez border tomorrow. In preparation and celebration of this accomplishment, this little party tonight will bring you face to face with a trusted few who are integral parts of this endeavor, and give you the latitude to see firsthand the friendship and honor among the (government-involved Mafioso) family members, I regret that I could not be here in person to greet you, but Ron (Reagan) can show you the ins and outs of the organization better than I. The transaction numbers have been recorded, and are available to you for cross reference purposes and to uphold the integrity of the players involved on your end of the Juarez border. Your commitment today ensures you of a higher economic standard of living for your people, increased relations with the U.S., an influx of American industry, and a position of high esteem in the New World Order, With your 'Seal of Approval' we can dissolve the Juarez border and make way for a future of prosperity for Mexico. For now, relax and enjoy your stay." One of de la Madrid's guards was snuffling through some papers from a briefcase, and he told Dante he would like the bank transaction numbers. Dante switched me to "You Are What You Read" Passbook programming, and I delivered the numbers intended for the border guards to de la Madrid as ordered. A computer of sorts was used to calculate and confirm the numbers. Aware that the meeting was being filmed by one of Dante's high tech "hidden" cameras, de la Madrid held up a paper-wrapped ball of Mexican heroin. Speaking directly at the camera, he cleverly said, "A token of appreciation, Mr. Bush, Something for your private stock. The finest heroin available. Enjoy." Dante strode across the room and said, "I'll take that and see to it that he gets it myself." "I'm sure you will," de la Madrid laughed. He then put all but one paper back in the briefcase. I was instructed to present the elaborately embossed Mexican Presidential Seal (of Approval) to pre-appointed Juarez border guards as proof of de la Madrid's commitment, then deliver it directly to Bush for his file on the future NAFTA agreement. Prepared to present a modified Hands-On Mind-Control Demonstration to de la Madrid, Dante said, "You've heard from a Carrier Pigeon (messenger). You've seen her in a mode to accept program. And now I will demonstrate some of her sexual modes." "That will not be necessary," de la Madrid told him. "I have been given a handful of keys that I would like to use on my own, including the one to destroy all memory. Not that it matters when we are monitored (he gestured toward the camera), but nevertheless I was instructed to do it." Dante did not seem to know this was not the first time I was sexually prostituted to the Mexican President. "She rides a horse well," Dante said, referring to both the rare practice of heroin to supposedly block my memory of this event, and a Reagan-inspired sex act. Dante stuck a needle in my arm. "May I recommend a ride for you?" "I am on one now that I would like to maintain," de la Madrid answered, referring to cocaine use and his running nose. Dante laid out several generous lines of the white drug on a black mirror. He stroked me under my chin triggering Reagan's sex Kitten personality, picked up Bush's heroin, and ushered the two guards out the door. De la Madrid, fully aware of my pornography exposure, said, "You like cameras? Let's give them something to watch." He snorted two more lines of coke, undressed, and further activated my sex programming with the verbal and physical keys and triggers Reagan had previously provided him. At one point he enthusiastically commented that "if I have my way, the Free Trade Agreement will include a few top of the tine (he snorted another line of coke for emphasis) "models" (vaginally) carved and trained like you." De la Madrid had long been obsessively fascinated with my vaginal mutilation carving. He was perversely excited at the prospect of the Juarez border joint venture drug deal including protected "free trade" of mind-controlled slaves. He reiterated his desire the next day during a meeting with Reagan.