Updates

So, I have a new hand truck from George, which I’m happy about. It could use an extra bungee cord but it’s pretty decent and fits my suitcase. It has more concrete-friendly wheels. It will probably be more time consuming while getting on the free buses, but it is definitely worth it and I’m grateful. I can’t always depend on the shopping carts – they aren’t welcome inside the public libraries or bus terminals here and they’re often taken when I leave them outside.

The thing is, he became angry with me for mentioning that he had promised me a completely refurbished suitcase three weeks ago, give or take, and then (after the radio silence where I didn’t even attend church the following Saturday (because I couldn’t pull the suitcase with me!) and hadn’t seen him, I was waiting, waiting, and waiting, and then finally saw him the next Saturday at church (I’d luckily found another shopping cart to throw the suitcase in).

Just to review, George had:

-Written me an email where he first promised to get me a hand truck and all I’d need to do to pay him back was “smile more often”.

-Then wrote another email in which he’d told me that a new big suitcase had come into the Lord’s Gift House. I showed up in church that weekend to get it, he’d told me to hide my current suitcase (the one with the broken wheel) because “he (some other dude) might not give it to me if he saw that I already had a suitcase” (even if it was broken). There was nowhere to “hide” it there, and he suddenly went AWOL (I couldn’t find him.) So I left with no new suitcase.

-When I reached out to follow up with him via email, he’d written me an email in which he proposed constructing me a new bottom for my current suitcase with “concrete friendly” wheels, and would be able to purchase the supplies cheaply from a home supply store, come in, etc. “Help me help you,” he’d written.

He’d told me to come in the following Tuesday, which I did. I sent him a photo of the wheels on the bottom of my suitcase so he’d know what he was dealing with.

-When I showed up for the “Suitcase Refurbishing Consultation” with him, it was quite delightful. He’d proclaimed that he would be purchasing all the supplies from the local home supply store for less than 20 dollars, and would prefer it if I’d come in on a Tuesday, since that wasn’t his normal workday, etc. I complimented him on the skills set to be able to do that, and thanked him profusely for being willing to do this for me.

-As I’ve already reported, I received no follow up communication from George despite all these profuse promises
(both in writing and verbally!) and was essentially waylaid from much of my usual travel due to the handicapped suitcase and no shopping cart at my disposal that week.

-Last week I went to church again. I’d gotten the sense that he’d regretted making the promises to me and wanted out, maybe he was trying to ghost me. I felt at peace about the whole thing, that God would see me through, with or without George’s help. I saw him and told him that if he wasn’t able to do it, not to worry about it. I realize he’d be doing me a favor, I’d said, and I didn’t want to trouble him unnecessarily. Oh no, he’d responded, “My donors were really good to me this week, so there should be no problem, Tuesday or Thursday should work.” I was obviously thrilled because I’ve been really depending on him, even though I gave him an out in case he didn’t want to do the work or spend the coin.

Monday I got an email from him: “Great News For Your Suitcase”, in which he told me that “something great just jumped into my car” for your suitcase. But please come in on Wednesday or Friday because I don’t have enough money to come in to work an extra day (on Tuesday).” Great, we’d responded, see you on Wednesday.

To wrap this saga up: I went in just now – I got a dolly for the suitcase with one bungee cord. He said I’d need another one and apologized for not getting me two, he just didn’t have the money for it.

I tried it out, and the suitcase immediately fell off of it and onto my foot. “OW!” I yelled.

“Hahahah” he chuckled.

“You know, I’m not sure this is going to work for me. What happened to the whole ‘I’m going to refurbish the bottom of this suitcase’ that you said you were going to do? First, you were going to get me this. That was over three weeks ago. Then you promised you would put completely new wheels and put wood on the bottom, completely refurbish it, so I was waiting on this for such a long time.”

He then flipped out and said, “My feelings are so hurt that you are criticizing this free gift I’m giving you. Then just take this and be on your way and I’ll sever the relationship.”

Can you freaking believe that?

I responded, “My feelings are hurt that the suitcase just fell on my foot and hurt me and you laughed at that. You told me that you were going to do one thing, I keep my word when I give it, I don’t make promises I can’t keep, much less try to turn it around and blame me about it. I don’t want to sever our relationship over this, nor should you, if you profess to be a Christian man.”

Aren’t you though? Isn’t that what this church and your “ministry” is ultimately all about?

Then he responded “I’ve been womanized” (whatever that means). Then he tried to make me feel guilty that he’d spent “his last money” on the hand truck. I guess he didn’t remember telling me how generous his donors were to him last week, or he really hates me and is a part of the whole racketeering operation down here.

It’s totally possible. I recently had an extended conversation with someone who basically told me that Silvester has been a homeless pimp for like the last twenty years, running game on every new homeless girl/woman who comes through this circuit, and tried to make me feel stupid for “getting involved” with him. Live and learn.
Point being, Silvester is treated like a god or at least a respected leader at First Baptist (he’s very close with the music ministry leader, Melinda) and also at Our Father Soup Kitchen (where “Miss Katie” refused to even call the cops on him after he’d backhanded the water bottle out of my hand and threatened to “pay someone 50 dollars to put a bullet in my ass.”)

George also referred to the voodoo practicing Judy McCormick as “one of his stars” once, and I was like, uh….yeah ok.
Now that I’ve made Judy and Silvester, among others, as players in the organized crime ring down here, it would probably make sense if George also is a part of it.

I just didn’t want to be right, I guess.

Infookingcredible (Yet Credible)

Since yesterday, I was gang stalked (again!) by three delightful (Jesuit-sympathetic? Probably) individuals, two men and one woman, at the bus stop.

I’m not proud to admit that when these kinds of scenes occur, I do not always keep a “high vibration” and have been known to stoop to the level of the perpetrators, at least insofar as speech and gestures are concerned. On the other hand, my father would probably have been proud of me. Sometimes, you must talk to people in the language that they understand.

My poor mother would have had a heart attack if she’d heard some of the things that I say at times, (and definitely would have had she been privy to some of the things I’ve written!) Anyway. Fortunately the event was short lived, but I can now recognize some of the hallmarks: They’re put together like little plays, little skits, little sketches. I am to be the main actor in the skit (previously unbeknownst to me), and they’re designed to bust my chops, lower my vibration, and basically serve as some kind of an emotional outlet for a whack ass crew that is, apparently, still obsessed by me.

Oh, so the reason for this AM’s blog post: It has come to my attention that the dark forces (CIA? Club of Rome? Rando Jesuit crews?) have done the same thing to my shopping cart (the one I wrote about extensively yesterday) that they did to my cars – specifically, my ’05 Nissan Altima, and my father’s heart – they’ve rigged them to be remote controlled. The front wheels started seizing up on the cart this morning – the same way they do if you’re actively trying to remove it from the store’s premises – you know, how they warn you extensively about this, etc. This was the first time this had actually happened to me with the cart. I was nowhere near the Walmart where it was likely procured.

It also shed additional light on the person who found this specific cart for me (Bramford). In tandem with his Loyola sweatshirt, broken promises, and narcissistic hissy fits of late, it kind of just confirmed what I’d already known to be true.

Whatever the setting, they gather a little theater troupe to trail, troll, and control me. Same playbook, different setting.

Twitter Thread Summary (12/13/22)

My assets will never be yours no matter how many roadblocks you and your whack ass crew try to throw up.#genocide #crimesagainsthumanity #assetseizures

Right before they murdered my mom in January 2018, I was seeing this guy here in FL named Ron Bell. He had a business called “Bell Brothers Electric”. He was always trying to get me to smoke crack. I was no angel back then, but I was soooo not down with that.

In retrospect, I’m pretty sure Mr. Ronnie Bell was a CIA or crime family troll…aside from his obsession with trying to get me to smoke crack with him, I actually liked him a lot. I was like, why does he keep trying to push this onto me?

It reminds me (in retrospect) how Ed Schneider kept inviting me over for these recurring, intimate E (ecstasy) gatherings at his parents’ house in Copiague back in the early 2000s. (Some were memorable, specially the one on the night of 9/11/01).

Over the years, lots of my “friends” repeatedly tried to ply me with/get me addicted to substances (while aware of the microchips in my ears and the racketeering operations): Michelle Wiener, Jon Gutleber, Ed Schneider, Steve DePalo, Marylinda DeWitt, Michal Sczcepanski, Ron Bell

How ya like me now. (Pretty good.) Going on, feeling strong. – Beck “Beercan”

Mr. Eddie Schneider also used to covertly mock me by “Revelation of Method” Nazi tactics: In my presence, he’d use the slang word “Mint!” or tell someone, “You should follow up with that – you could make a MINT!” #Revelations #NazisintheUS

He was also one of the first people around me who used the “CIA cough”. It reached fever pitch at Saint John Paul II Academy, where I worked from August – December 2018 (hired AND fired by Principal Ed Bernot).

Interestingly, I can’t find the main Twitter handle of Saint John Paul II Academy of Boca Raton, Florida – it’s possible that the school preemptively blocked me to avoid me tagging them here on social media.

Anyway, that was when and where I realized that I was fabulously wealthy. Teenagers are terrible at keeping secrets for very long. I would get notes like, “F*** you and your Lexus” and other gang stalking tactics.

Mind you, I drove a beat up Nissan to work. I was like, “How do these students know I drove my mom’s Lexus after she’d died ? How are they privy to so much personal information about me? Turns out, lots of the kids’ parents were CIA/FBI!!! Duh!!

They were complicit! Many were very nice, but many were hostile. Formerly nice staff and students became hostile after I woke up to what my relatives did and started to call them out about it on social media. They constantly fake coughed around me.

That’s when I started to realize how many people were actually involved and how deep the whole thing went.

One of the draws of that school for me, at the time, was that they had something called “Carmelite Hall” in the front of the school, and my mother had belonged to a Catholic group called the Carmelites (which I now realize was just a front for their human sacrificing cult).

Much of the staff had knowingly gamed and planned this, because they were aware that I was really in deep grief at the time and very vulnerable to people who I had, at the time, perceived as good (Catholics! Rosary devotees!). But they were wolves in sheep’s clothing. #ClubofRome

My phone and social media was being seriously trolled at that time too. That’s when I realized that MY STUDENTS PARENTS were trolling ALL of my Internet posts and communications.

One night I made some critical tweet about my aunt. The next day, one of my students said, “Making big moves, huh Miss Castelli?” I was like, what are you talking about? My Twitter was private at the time (or so I’d thought.)

At that time, I still didn’t realize about the microchips (wires) in my ears. I even told my students about my “exceptional hearing, the result of a successful operation when I was three and had tubes put in my ears” (the lie that I’d truly believed until I waking up in 2019.)

In 2019, gangstalkers at Waterford Point broke into my apartment and put Q-Tips next to a bottle of makeup that said “Anti-Aging”. The message was that if I wanted to “age”, I’d better not mention what the real purpose of the “tubes” in my ears was for.

From 2018-2022 (when I was evicted by corrupt BSO and Broward County officials and made homeless), I had no income (I was fired by Ed Bernot and then blacklisted), bad plumbing, deliberately clogged drains, and was being gang stalked and harassed by the HOA and neighbors.

When I finally got a job as a prep cook at Anthony’s Coal Fired in early December ’21, I thought it was the perfect solution – a part time income where I wouldn’t have to be beholden to uncle Eugene’s ongoing harassment that I sign banking documents and cash checks from him.

Unfortunately, most of the staff members of Anthony’s Coal Fired were complicit in these ongoing racketeering operations (in addition to the mask wearing/vaccination/ plandemic insanity) against me, and I retrospectively figured it out.

They were watching my Amex Bluebird account withdrawals like hawks during that time (I had abandoned my Chase account when I realized that Ed Schneider ended up working as a banker for them) and I took out as much money from the yearly tax refund I got as I could.

Then Manny Lopez, my then-boss at Anthony’s Coal Fired, kept trying to call me to come into work, he kept being a jerk to me over stupid issues, it was baffling (at the time). I started cutting my hours and I think they started panicking.

I had asked Manny to drive me to Broward County Courthouse so that he could help me get a restraining order against Michael Sparano, property manager of Waterford Point, when he was being particularly threatening towards me, but (surprise surprise!) he never did.

Duh! Manny Lopez, Tim, Brent (that manager from the other store), and more from upper management were TOTALLY in on it TOGETHER!) #RacketBoys #Antisemitism

I started getting gangstalked and mocked on Facebook’s Pompano Beach neighborhood pages when I would post asking for help to find shelter after the goons had me evicted. Other goons that were involved used Facebook to further target me to get me to bring my stuff to storage, etc.

That’s all for now. This is all true. Know how you know? No one’s denying it.