The Gazoo story is fairly long and complicated and I’ll have to check if I told some of it already. It’s a linchpin story of how communication was done with the FIBbers. It also starts the tale of how I wound up hanging out in the Howard’s basement which was one of the best times of my life. Some of the story gets told in metaphor because remember this……there is no statute of limitations on idiocy!
It worked like this…we’re all basically giant antennas and we give off and receive various frequencies of vibration. If you can tune in to a certain frequency you can pick up information. There are books written on the Chakras and the Human Energy Field. Every piece of electronic equipment that I have, and probably you too, that communicates is monitored… phones, computers, etc. It’s all digital storage now and there are supercomputers that store all this information. When the government is unhappy with you they go through your files and find out something you’ve done and can harass or arrest you. There are enough laws in this country to lock every up for committing a crime or for no reason at all, they’ll come up with something if you survive the arrest or the incarceration. They go through my mail and packages sometimes, they know every type, brand and variation of Peck-R pills I have ordered from overseas, which is probably illegal as well but would not make for a great headline on arrest, “Psychiatrist arrested for flaccid penis…film at eleven.” Though the headline would probably say, “Local psychiatrist arrested in drug bust. Details are being firmed up right now and should be coming soon!…film at eleven.” This happened to me in part once part of a even longer story. “The Fibbers” along with a man they call, “The Maestro,” drove “The DEAdlegs” (out of respect for the Grateful Dead I adjusted the name) into a crazy frenzy of paranoia painting a picture of me as some drug czar kingpin providing the entire east coast with world class heroin and cocaine. It was kind of ridiculous since I almost never leave my house and I shared with one of the undercover snitches in my office that I recently started drinking Coca Cola again though I dilute it with water about five to one to reduce the adverse effects. I told him “I’m sure they’re putting something else in there along with the caffeine and sugar to make it so stimulating and delicious.” That’s my big foray into the use of coke. I’m sure somewhere in his head he was thinking…”this is the guy they sent me to spy on??? I better find something better…either he goes to jail or I have to!” I was pretty sure the kid was undercover in the beginning but I gave him some tasks to do which he did, I liked him and decided to let him stay. We get lot’s of patients who get arrested and then come in and try and entrap me into doing or saying something to have me arrested or smear my name. The Maestro if he finds something on FB (and remember you can’t spell Fibber without FB) especially if it’s Jewish, he contacts one of the Rabbis and says, “Look what he’s doing…he mentioned Rivkah!!! and see…she’s being told that fire can’t melt steel!!!!” “Look!!! He’s a holocaust denier!!! He’s got all this stuff about WD-40!!!” (Someday they’ll rewrite my stuff with the transliteration on the bottom…just like the Talmud).
Now some of the Fibbers are very nice and a subset are homicidal maniacs who in a moment answer to no-one and take care of business on it’s own terms. Every Fibber HQ has a hit-squad…every one and for a price you can eliminate someone. It’s nice, it’s clean and it’s perfectly legal…or not. You need a certain number of signatures to legally murder someone in this country, something like 17 otherwise in this area the cost is around $100,000 but I’m told it recently went up to $150,000 as some of the marks have been hitting back, not just for themselves but for others.
So it came to pass…sounds like something out of the bible…The Book of Ed… that if the Fibbers called Gazoo I would show up and type into my Facebook page. Until recently I didn’t go the whole 9 yards and show up and say, “Hello Dum Dums” which is what Gazoo would say to Fred and Barney when he showed up on the Flintstones but I did it the other day.
We had our second undercover student show up as I mentioned above. I liked him but he got really sloppy and aggressive. I told him when I first met him that I believed he was undercover, that he got arrested for drugs, and he agreed to go undercover and turn snitch to mitigate his situation. I had to ask him to leave. I had a lot of questions I wanted answered but in most situations like this or others I don’t ask them because I think I’ll get lies, so I put it up to God. I said, “Here me Lord!!!!!” and got said, “What now?!” I wanted to know if this was local law enforcement or the Fibbers at work here. I decided to tell him to leave and see where the chips fall. Once these people get sloppy or aggressive they have to go because they make mistakes. The worst is when they lose control. So he left. I told him not to come back and not to come back in. Which he did. I’ve seen enough of these guys that I know their MO.
I’m going to call his actions at this this conjecture at this point to delineate that some of this was done with HSP-High Sense Perception. I was not in the parking lot, or anywhere else except my office that day. He went into the parking lot and called his people who told him to go back in which he did and I had to tell him to leave again. Normally, the patient snitches after a few days will leave me with a threat or a veiled threat as a good-bye present. They don’t do that much anymore because of legal actions I take. He drove to one of the local law enforcement centers, community policing where he talked with a couple people. I believe he was picked up their and brought to Fibber HQ. He went onto one of the lower floors, nice and airy and roomy and went from office to office talking with people, one or two at a time. He liked talking with the ladies because they were…ladies! but also they were softer kinder and gentler. The area he was in is also known as “Snitch Central”. I’ll repeat that…”Snitch Central”. It is also given a more pejorative name, “Rat Bastard Central.” Nice, huh? I sure it has a more appropriate name like, “The Early Defecation Center,” LOL or “Early Detection Center”. So these poor shmucks get targeted and get arrested for some meaningless crime but are needed to be used to get bigger fishes (yes the plural of fish can be fishes but refers to several species of fish not just one type of fish).
Still in conjecture mode: He was treated relatively nicely there at “Rat Bastard Central” but with the men there was always an undertone of contempt. Firstly they believed he screwed up and whatever went on was his fault. They also questioned whether he told me what was going on. It did happen on one occasion that someone told me they had read the transcripts of our visits and really like my philosophies…at the end he still threatened me like everyone else until recently. The other reason is that snitches are held in a particularly low esteem aka contempt by everyone…everywhere especially when law enforcement is involved. I decided to check who is held in most contempt in prison, pedophiles or snitches (I was going to throw in Jews but I didn’t want to skew the findings). I guessed it was snitches. Here’s what I found:
Urband Dictionary: The lowest of the low. A filthy, sad excuse for a human being. Lower than rapists and pedophiles. A snitch is a person of minimal integrity, trust, ability and … (I can’t find the rest of this but this was good)
https://www.correctionsone.com/treatment/articles/9317283-How-are-snitches-treated-in-prison/ This was a pretty good article. “Now in 2014 they are not called “snitches.” They were calling them SNY’s or PC’s, meaning “sensitive needs” or “protective custody.”
So, “Snitch Central” in some ways was like a movie set. Very little really sensitive work was allowed to be done there and only through closed doors. The free and open areas were left as such to allow the “sensitive needs” people to feel free to speak up. There was also a large comfortable cafeteria where people could sit and eat and chat but they filled it sometimes with shills to make it look for realistic or so the undercover people could practice eavesdropping. When I find I’m being eavesdropped on I like to talk about perineal warts. Here’s where it gets interesting….
We’re still in conjecture mode… It was there at Snitch Central sitting in the cafeteria movie set at a table that this young gun ran into an old snitch patient of mine… “The Cola Kid”. I had thrown the Cola Kid out for the same reason but the Cola Kid was a patient.
Undercover patients are dangerous. One guy came in with his iPad and attempted to get me to laugh at racial jokes using the word “Nigger”. No “N Word” here…we’ll use the word nigger. He came in and did it once by the second time he did it I had figured out what he was doing and yelled at him in the office then I discharged him. What was the big deal? The big deal was that if I had done or said anything racist and he had it on tape it could have been used against me if presented to a state agency as being racist or inappropriate. This probably would not have held up in an investigation or under scrutiny for a number of reasons. The most likely reason is that my line of work allows a great deal of latitude in saying what you want or need to with the a patient. I have absolutely cursed out and berated patients on a regular basis in order to get them to change their destructive behaviors. Most come back and are grateful for what I’ve done for them. People have to listen and hear what you say. I already had mistrust for this patient and didn’t find what he was saying funny at all and I discharged him. The guy down the street was a kibitzer and got caught on tape talking with an attractive patient about toe-sucking and one other thing which I can’t recall. He never did it…just joked about it. It’s doubtful this would have held up as a complaint against him but they used it in part to get him to surrender his license. They didn’t want him for toe-sucking, he was sloppy and some of the pills he was prescribing was winding up on the street. He miserated to me that he wanted to treat his patients and it was difficult to sort through the genuine patients from the druggies. He had a practice that took different insurances and if they didn’t get him for one thing they would have gotten him on another and they were looking at the possibility of Medicaid fraud when he had the good fortune to drop dead of esophageal cancer. Not that you need an erection to suck toes but the man confided in me that he couldn’t get hard anymore and the whole toe thing was absurd.
In my mind if you’re not discussing toe-sucking with at least one of your patients at least once a year you’re not thoroughly covering important aspects of the Medical Review of Systems and consequent disease states that can occur such: as fungal infections of the tongue and feet and of course diseases such as: Toe Jam Football, Toelio, Kneesles, and of course Small Cox.
So The Kid and The Cola Kid shot the shit for a while and decided I was the evil one and the bane of their existences and they cried over their coffee and hot chocolate with marshmallows and went home feeling better about the world and their place in it. At least the Kid went home. The Cola Kid I think got locked up. They may have pulled him out just for this, i’m not sure. Now I believe I mentioned some of this the other night on FB and they had to bring The Kid back in to ask if he had spoken to me about what went on as I knew he was in Fibber HQ, I believe there’s a nice view of things from where their vantage point was. They treated him with a bit more respect this time though I can’t tell you why. I had relayed thanks to Ha’shem for answering my prayers and then some! The Fibbers work with local law, who I hold no animosity towards even when they head to the local park locked and loaded because the Fibbers tell them I’m on my way to conduct illicit business there. The locals are fed lies, truths and half-truths in order to paint a picture of unleashed corruption on my part. I’ll have you know I keep my corruption on a leash at all times and when it makes a mess I pick it up with the National News section of the New York Times and dispose of it in the trash.
What happens when you fail in your mission? If a snitch does not come up with something useful then they may be used again if they are liked and did put in an honestly good effort or if they’re useless they are tossed aside like an old shoe to serve out whatever it is they are being served.
At the end of the day “The Maestro” is a Board Certified Snitch. I can’t imagine how much lower you can go than snitching to someone’s Rabbi. “Look what he did now!!! He ate a piece of gefilte fish on matzoh with chazzer schmaltz on it!!! Look Rabbi Look!!!” “Look Rabbi Look!!!! He’s cheating at Dreidel!!! He switches the dreidel to an Israeli dreidel whenever someone picks the word “there”!!!” “Look Rabbi Look….he’s touching his wife during her cycle…look!!!” “He said something affrontive about Streisand!!!….He didn’t like Yentil….he said Lord and Taylor was originally God and Schneider…He said jello moves when you eat it…..he said because they like their husbands to come into money…he said Oy Moshe the ceiling needs painting…he said…screw the kids out of what?…he said they won’t let anything in unless there’s a string attached…he told us the difference between jelly and jam… he said and why shouldn’t we answer a question with a question… he said the blind man said good morning ladies when he passed the fish market…he told us why they scream twice…he said aren’t we coming back this way…he said I was going to throw in Jews but I didn’t want to skew the findings…look…look…look!!!! He sits back picks his nose, scratches his twat and casts judgment on people who he’s not even worthy of licking the snot from their noses. Worse than the capo at Mauthausen because now he’s discovered and his little fuck friends too! Maybe you’ve figured out how you’re getting screwed and want to do something about it. Maybe you’re asking all the right questions. He knows shit about you…lot’s of shit. Next thing you know…oh well…jail time for bid rigging!! The Maestro always operating in the shadows out of view…but not out of God! Take your children and only the clothes on your back Mrs. Soprano.
It kind of reminds me of when Farid’s attorney had reached the bottom of the barrel, not the money grubber but the original one who knew how to take care of business and I had sent the fibbers photos of Sidney Poitier in a cheap colorful wig but I had cut his head out and placed it into famous movies of his like, Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, and In The Heat of the Night, and he had become run down and disheveled, he aged and it… to be continued