'Of course, she's Byrd's,' she responded, continuing the conversation as though I were not there, 'Plus, I heard Houston say something about her being a Presidential Model, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.' 'It means she's clean,' Hillary said matter-of-factly as she stood up. I was not capable of giving thought to such things back then, but I am aware in retrospect that all Presidential Model slaves I knew seemed to have an immunity to social diseases. It was a well known fact in the circles I was sexually passed around in that government level mind-controlled sex slaves were «clean» to the degree that none of my abusers took precautions such as wearing condoms.
Hall's wife patted the bed and instructed me to display the mutilation. Hillary exclaimed, 'God!' and immediately began performing oral sex on me. Apparently aroused by the carving in my vagina[47], Hillary stood up and quickly peeled out of her matronly nylon panties and pantyhose. Uninhibited despite a long day in the hot sun, she gasped, 'Eat me, oh, god, eat me now'. I had no choice but to comply with her orders, and Bill Hall's wife made no move to join me in my distasteful task. Hillary had resumed examining my hideous mutilation and performing oral sex on me when Bill Clinton walked in. Hillary lifted her head to ask, 'How'd it go?'
Clinton appeared totally unaffected by what he walked into, tossed his jacket on a chair and said, 'It's official. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed.'
I put my clothes on as ordered, and Hall's wife drove me back down to the mansion where Houston was waiting for me. The meeting apparently had been a success. I heard discussions throughout the remaining years between Houston, his agent Reggie MacLaughlin, and Loretta Lynn's handler, Ken Riley pertaining to Hall's successful branch of the CIA cocaine operation emanating from Arkansas, No discussions were as poignant and revealing as those between Alex Houston and CIA operative country music entertainer Boxcar Willie.
Boxcar Willie burst onto the country music scene after an ad campaign of high tech hypnotically persuasive produced television commercials that strategically made him an overnight, sensation and «star». The country music industry's Freedom Train needed a conductor to lead the industry and fans to Branson, Missouri, and Boxcar Willie was placed in the driver's seat. Like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, Boxcar Willie succeeded in his role of trance- ferring the industry in close proximity to the Lampe CIA cocaine operations.
Boxcar Willie was one of the primary ground level contacts that Bill Hall made after Clinton convinced him to cash in on the cocaine benefits of the country music industry transfer. Houston and Boxcar Willie discussed Hall's lucrative dealings throughout the years in my presence while traveling the country together, billed on the same shows, including performances at the Swiss Villa Amphitheatre, I had much contact with Boxcar Willie personally since my government sponsored cocaine runs often coincided and intermeshed with his. But I never knew Boxcar Willie as well as my daughter, Kelly, knew him. Kelly has named Boxcar Willie as one of her primary sexual abusers in three different mental institutions, and has voiced frustration at the lack of justice. 'Why am I the one locked up while my abusers remain free?' she constantly pleads. I assure her I am doing all I can to blow the whistle on Boxcar Willie for hex, and expose his role in transferring the country music industry to close proximity of the Lampe, Missouri CIA cocaine operation as outlined by Bill Clinton.
CHAPTER 15
NO MORE BEATING AROUND THE BUSH
It was a sunny, fall day in 1983 when U.S. Congressman Guy VanderJagt met with my CIA operative mind- control handler, Alex Houston, my then 3 1/2 year old daughter, Kelly, and me on the steps of the U.S. Senate in Washington, D.C. Kelly appeared familiar with Vanderjagt, although I had never previously remembered seeing her in his company. Even so, I could not think to realize he was, in fact, sexually abusing her just as he had me when I was a child. VanderJagt knelt on one knee in front of her to talk with her, assuring her that 'today was a special day' because she would 'see Uncle George (Bush) while mommy sees Uncle Ronnie (Reagan)'. He stood up and took her by the hand, saying in Alice In Wonderland cryptic language, 'Let's go on an Adventure together' and led her quietly and robotically away.
I met up with Kelly again that afternoon at the White House, both of us literally 'on our toes' and standing at attention in Reagan's office. In retrospect, I wonder at the measures of control inflicted on my 3 1/2-year old child to cause her to perform so robotically and behave 'so well' as she silently stood with the plastic smile and unblinking eyes, in the presence of President Reagan, Vice President Bush, and (later Defense Secretary) Dick Cheney. Reagan appeared to gaze at Kelly, with her long blonde hair cascading down the back of her blue pinafore dress, completing her Alice In Wonderland Appearance. Reagan seemed to pose no direct threat to her sexually as he said, 'She is adorable, a model child',
Reagan then gestured towards Bush and said, 'This is my Vice President George Bush. People don't usually know what the role of the Vice President is because he's always behind the scenes making sure everything that the President wants done happens the way it's supposed to.' He looked at me and said matter-of-factly, 'I catch the public's attention (he made a gesture in the air that was eye catching) while the Vice President carries out orders.'
Bush's close friend, Dick Cheney, said, 'And gives them'.
'Right,' Reagan said. 'An order from him is like an order from me.'
Bush was wearing canvas boat shoes and a cardigan sweater as he knelt on one knee in front of Kelly in order to talk to her on her level. Bush used the children's television program Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood to scramble/confuse young victims' (like Kelly's) memory of contact with him and his sexual abuse. His physical resemblance to TV's Fred Rogers was deliberately exaggerated by his choice of clothes and mannerisms, and is further compounded by his developed vocal impersonation. Using his best Mr. Rogers voice he said, 'Come here, Little One. I want to ask you something. Do you watch Mr, Rogers' Neighborhood?'
'Yes, Sir,' Kelly responded.
Bush told Kelly, 'Well, I'm kind of like Mr. Rogers when he makes his puppets move and talk — like your daddy (Houston, ventriloquist) does with Elemer (his dummy). Only I'm like Mr. Rogers because I have lots of puppets-only mine are people. I even have a King (Fahd) just like Mr. Rogers[48] . I pull the strings (he pantomimed marionette hand movements) and I talk through them. They say my words and we create all kinds of exciting Adventures. Right now I'm building a new Neighborhood (the New World Order). The stage is set, and I have hold of everyone's strings. I need you to help me — together we can pull your mother's strings. She's in my Neighborhood. That means you're in my Neighborhood, too.'
It seems obvious to me now that Bush was referring to those actively engaged in implementing the New World Order through chaos and mass mind control (aka media conditioning) as 'The Neighborhood'. Of course I was unable to consider disputing Bush's statement, and Kelly was certainly not of a mind to see beyond Bush's twist on her favorite television program. Kelly's big blue eyes grew even wider as she responded, 'I am?'
Bush stood up and took her hand, 'C'mon. Let me show you my Neighborhood,' He led her out the door.
Kelly became violently physically ill after her induction into George Bush's 'Neighborhood.' and from every sexual encounter she had with him thereafter. She ran 104-6 degree temperatures, vomited and endured immobilizing headaches for an average of three days (as is consistent with high voltage trauma). These were the only tell-tale evidences aside from the scarring burns left on her skin. Houston forbade me to call a doctor, and Kelly forbade me to comfort her, pitifully complaining that her head 'hurt too bad to even move'. And she did not move for hours on end. Kelly often complained of severe kidney pain, and her rectum usually bled for a day or two after Bush sexually abused her. My own mind-control victimization rendered me unable to help or protect her. Seeing my child in such horrible condition drove my own wedge of insanity in deeper, perpetuating my total inability to affect her needs until our rescue by Mark Phillips in 1988.
Kelly's bleeding rectum was but one of many physical indicators of George Bosh's pedophile perversions, I have overheard him speak blatantly of his sexual abuse of her on many occasions. He used this and threats to her
