Melyssa Ford (allegedly), I don’t know what to say. Being a beacon for broken and battle-scarred beings behooves me to be better or at my best. I hate having hatred in my heart, but it’s hard when hateful humans have a hankering for harvesting my healing and helpful nature. At times, I forget that folks are full of feelings that can be fragile. I hope I haven’t hurt you or hindered your happiness, I apologize for any inconveniences you’ve incurred in this indisputable inequity, and I promise to prosper and prevail over this pitiful plot. You definitely don’t deserve the disadvantages dealt by these damnable and destructive douches, but their end is expected and extraordinarily inevitable. Pissing off petty and puerile people with pretended power who prey on powerlessness is empowering because said phony “powerful” people primarily flex their faux fortitude for formidable foes. The world’s wickedest weaklings waging war on a writing warrior’s wisdom makes me feel worthy of worship. And me pinpointing puerility and pettiness persistently in poking at the punk-ass police and their political pals’ pusillanimity should presently be perceived as a predictable pattern. Emulating as an example, that’s how these tutti frutti, tickle me tender tyrants torment their targets—they regularly and relentlessly repeat, rerun, replicate, recycle, and redo the same stupid shit to sap one’s sanity. I’ve discovered that the jolly jester Joe Budden and his playful podcast padres (allegedly) were allusively attacking me ages before I began consuming the corrupt content. And Mel’s mixing with the manipulative machination may have been manufactured, unbeknownst to her. Like I said, this pathetic plan was premeditated, and each part was predicated on my predicted or possible reactions. Yet, it’s obvious that the opps overlooked the odds of me overcoming and obstructing their offensive operation. The tarot reading doppelgängers, even Ms. Ford’s fake, began posting around the same time. Y’all, I’d been praying for proof of the punk-ass police’s predacious probing and prying into my privacy forever. And believe it or not, this blog was part of my plan to point up their predatory proclivities. But speaking of doppelgängers, this pseudo Phylicia Rashad that the Feds found is bugging me out. Like, she’s sexy but scary. Years ago, I published a post praising “Claire Huxtable” as the epitome of excellence in wifely womanhood. Still, like Ayesha Curry, children and a christened connection ain’t calling me. Shit, if you know the “original offender,” ask her, as I’m sure she remembers the sentiments that we supposedly shared. My case against the country’s most crooked cops and their crazy, cancerous conspiracy is clear and conclusive. These miserable, meddlesome motherfuckers tried to make me match the meshuggana that they made up. Anyhoo, Kevin McCall (allegedly), start an OnlyFans, because being pretty pays plentifully. Prize Picks’ peoples (allegedly) have proudly participated in the punk-ass police’s pejorative pettiness and puerility. Which reminds me of the Funny Marco interview with the lovely lady Ari Lennox that (allegedly) alludes to an audacious account I had with an African woman about my name. Imagine entreating or encouraging an entire entertainment industry to assist you in attempting to convince a cognizant and clear-headed person that your criminal and confining conspiracy against them is just a joke. Mel (allegedly) being missing from a popular podcast that’s played a pivotal part in the initiation and perpetuation of a plot to poison my purity and paint me as psychotic, after years of me exposing the endless evilness of the eternal enemy, ain’t a coincidence. Remember when I used to end every entry with “peace?” Well, that’s where the peace signs that people purportedly pose with in a show of support for me comes in. Mona Love, the JBP’s newest hire, was hired after I mentioned her anatomy. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s posed with the peace sign in every thumbnail ever since. Nigga, don’t act like the guests you’ve gotten on your punk-ass podcast over the past few months ain’t been to spite me for spurning you and your folks—the Feds! But I’m gon’ spoil the shit that y’all started. Soon…
Omniscience