On December 8, 2010 @ approximately 7pm:

I just went to bed and R., whose key to the front door I had re-possessed a few days earlier, crawled through the dog door out back and ran up the back steps into this apartment where I was napping yelling: "I love you" and that she wanted to fuck me then and there.

So, then R. blurts out that she stole her mother's car and hit a parked car to come to see me!

I got her the hell out of my apartment, put her in my truck, drove the three blocks from the apartment house to the wrecked car where the police had just arrived to initiate investigation.

I waylaid the point officer on that street five seconds before the officer could initiate investigations with the victim's car by saying to the officer that this is a mental health issue and that the driver of that car (the wrecked car) is in that car (my truck).

My truck idled for an hour on that street with my dog inside it on a 14 degree F night and I did not have a coat on me.

I stood on one leg for a twenty four 1000 count and other tests while R. told the officer who split us on the sidewalk that R. used her key to get into my apartment.

I had told the the TRUTH to the officer that she had come into the apartment through the dog door and up the back steps.

Then, the officer says to me that "somebody is lying."

That officer stepped across the street at that point while another officer stood watching me on the sidewalk where I was shivering and my hands became numb.

Then, I said to the officer watching me on the sidewalk where I was ordered to stand that "there is no lying about it.  I have R.'s best interest utmost in my mind."

Ten minutes after I say that to the watching officer after shivering for an hour on one leg as I was ordered to, the PPD allowed me to drive R. home to her mother.

Not only that, but the PPD gave me the copy of the accident report to take to R.'s mother.

And then, I came back to the apartment along the same route on that street three blocks away from the apartment where I CACA and managed to retrieve my AAA card that I offered AAA to tow R.'s mother's car that R. wrecked.

All while CaCa Brains was shouting at CaCa Debul, CaCa Brains!

text to my ...

I gave up the driveway parking spot, I bought a solar lantern for the hall, I paid for the 1st floor to help clean the back yard, I offered carpet, etc. and all I asked for was nothing in the fire corridor: which is what this is all about here. The police agree with me. They say that if she didn't want anybody above her, she should've rented the top floor. Ask the dispatcher.

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Even my wife said that "the property manager gets the worst bitches!"  

"Jen" at police dispatch knows and she doesn't care.  Jen agrees with me: "if she didn't want anybody above her, she should've have rented the top floor."  Jen said "yes , I agree to that."

I even said to "Jen, the dispatcher" that "I have a 1st amendment right to use the toilet at night, but that it is directly over the 2nd floor bedroom."  

"Jen, the dispatcher" said "Yes, I agree."

And the two officers who came out at 1:44am last week laughed at me and said have a nice night.

I called the police on myself both of the last two times.  Disability Rights knows.

Do you have anything to say to all that before I go nap!?

[No response].

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No, ma'am.  I want to keep the appointment.  I need the harassment to stop.  Sorry about all the emails, but that's the best way to convey the information.  I do NOT want to have to go to the Human Rights Commission.  There are serious issues with people in my life concerning me.  I used to work, I cannot work any more.  I collect SSDI under the BOND program, but I cannot fathom as to why I have been stopped by police 44 times since January 1998.  I have most of it logged on my blogspots and in my books.  There is something askew concerning me in this city leading to when I arrived: my being name called "chicken" by high school students because the landlord purchased chickens for the back yard in 2001.  Most of the info is in those emails which I sent to you.

Thank you,

another day in a colony called "Maine" located < onthePlanetUranus- > 2015-05-30 20:08

LAST WEEK WEDNESDAY:-/

"Do you have any conditions? Are you on any medication?" 

"Are you a doctor?"

"No."

"Then, you are not allowed to ask me that: are you!?"

The point Officer turns to his partner standing on the side walk behind where the point Officer has one foot on the front steps. He, then, turns back towards me sitting in a "Crazy Creek Chair" at the top of the steps on the porch. I reach into my left pocket.

"Here is my license. I don't have any weapons on me."

"I don't need to see your license," he says as I pull out my renewed license from my wallet.

I hand the license to the Officer.

"Do you see an 'M' on that license!? ... No, you do not!!! There is only an 'A' for spectacles. ... Here is my old license. Do you see an 'M' on that license? Yes, you do. DMV knows about it!"

The point Officer hands back the old license as he grinds his boot into my old dog Russel's commemorative, artistic poster that I made out of pictures of "Russell, the dog" for Russell's seventy-five visits to a retirement community when Russell was alive.

I had pulled the poster out from under the door mat in front of my front door after unpinning it from a corner wall in my apartment and sliding it under the door mat in advent of a five minute wait for the Officers to show up (as I was informed), but ended up being twenty minutes since the phone call to ask the dispatcher as to why Officers had been knocking at my door an hour before while I lay in bed trying to nap and the wife watching TV at the time.

Needless to say: the poster was put into the recycling and picked up the next day by garbage men in City of Portland, Maine.

they're gonna catnap my cats ...

I was stopped July 5, 2015 for the forty-fifth time since January 1998 by police in Portland, ME.

While I lay in bed with my wife and dog, there came a knock on the door at precisely 21h11. I checked the clock. 

"Is that a knock!?" 

"Sounds like it." 

"Don't answer it!" 

More knocking! 

"They're not going to go away ..." 

"Alright. You get the door ..." 

My wife steps down the thirteen odd steps to answer the door. The dog is barking and is at the second floor door with her when my wife answers the door. The dog barks. I overhear that it is the police. My wife is saying to the policeman that 'we had just gone to bed.' 

"I'm coming down," I say from the top of the thirteen odd steps. "No weapons," I say to the male officer at the door and the female officer with a flash light behind the male officer as I put my hands in the air and then lower my hands. 

"What was going on?" the male officer asks. 

"Listen. I spoke with 'Jen,' the dispatcher and explained to her that I have a First Amendment Right to walk on my floor boards at night. 'Jen, the dispatcher,' said 'I agree.' I said to 'Jen' that my two cats and dog also have a First Amendment Right to walk on the floor boards. 'Jen' said 'I agree.' I even said to 'Jen' that I have First Amendment to use the faucet in the kitchen at night and to use the toilet at night, but just that the bathroom is directly above the second floor bedrooms. 'Jen' said 'I agree.' I said to 'Jen:' if 'she' didn't want anybody above her, 'she' should've rented the top floor. 'Jen' said 'I agree.'" 

"Are you allowed to have cats?" 

"Yes." 

"Who is your landlord?" 

"CaCa Brains." 

"So, CaCa Brains is your landlord and they let you have pets?" 

"Yes." 

"When did this all happen?" 

"Just like a week or two ago ..." 

"Just try to keep it down ..." 

"I got her a solar lamp for the hallway and bought carpet. I have three sets of headphones and gave up my spot in the driveway. You try herding cats ..." 

"OK. Have a good night ..." 

"Bolt the door," I say to the wife as I ascend the steps. 

What I did not tell the officer is that the second floor occupant has violated the HIPPA law by checking my 'pulse' under guise of being a nurse.

CaCaBrains:

I am going to see the doctor today and after the doctor's appointment, I plan to not be on any medication anymore.  (I won $4520 NET from a lawsuit over deleterious medications in 2014). 

You and dad are no longer on my emergency contact list due to this past summer's false accusations about me from hear say, such as "hubba bubba."  

Also, there is no requirement for me to be on medications, which are deleterious to my health and well being, as I am not a criminal and I have never been arrested in spite of being stopped 47 times in Portland since moving here: all false reports.

You should know that I told you a long time ago that the tenants here interfere with our relationship rendering it very difficult for me to be able to communicate with you or dad.  

Like Bill E., the LCSW, said: "they [my parents] are not a support to you."

I retorted: "they give me money."

Bill E.: "that's not support."

Dad is verbally, psychologically and physically abusive towards me and has always been so towards me, which might be a major indicator as to my having had problems up to and including hanging myself in 2008.  You and dad bear most of the responsibility for my problems in that you two stigmatise me by everything from laughing at my rib contusion to laughing at my plantaciatitis.

You should know that you cannot hold me over a barrel as to fabrications about me that you hear about me from tenants and say to the doctor that I am not supported if I don't take medication.

I implore you to stop breaking the HIPPA law regarding me by discussing medication or sz with anyone when the focus of the conversation is about me: including Bill Ullman or anybody.  

Finally, you have just about ruined my life with your lies about me and stigmatising me stemming as far back as 1993 so that now R. finds it suitable to stigmatise me regarding sz in spite of my having fed her, clothed her, housed her, transported her and obtained a credit card for her to use.

Why people ask if I am getting along with my wife and not the wife getting along with me, I don't know: but, I am under no obligation to provide R. with cigarettes, which is the major contention that I have with her as she feels entitled to my cigarettes.

I have signed the divorce papers so that all that R. has to do is take $120 and the papers to the court house.  (I am not coughing up $120 for that).

My point is that R. took over the entire apartment without a space for me and she insists on moving my things around the apartment, which is why we have been fighting.

I thought that by moving to Bethel: R. would have her apartment; Prop Mngr would be rid of her headache, which is me; dad would be able to rent apartments and you would have me living nearby you for the first since you kicked me out to Lambrook.

As far as "out of my house with nothing but the shirt on your back" and "hubba bubba:" I give up.   

I am not the one spending your money.  I negotiated the TWC bill from 229.22$/month to 44.88$/month, which is what it is now.  I complained about wasting heat on one degree mornings because the tenants were leaving the door open and I suggested a door spring closer, which they installed.

As for the woman this past summer: I never cat called women "hubba bubba" and no ... I am not deserving of "attack."  You, dad, BU, J., Jo., PPD and random people in the community have all harassed me to no end.  

IT IS TIME FOR IT TO STOP!!! 

Suing the American Psychiatric Association:

I am looking for an attorney to help me sue the American Psychiatric Association for the culture of stigma that exists in communities, media and the public's perspective against a diagnosed person when a person is diagnosed with a major mental illness diagnosis out of the DSM IV.

I have extensive personal evidence and records of stigma against me in my community as a mental ill diagnosed person as well as a quick search on the Internet will result in many applicable and evident documentation of stigma, including renowned psychiatrist Dr. E. Fuller Torrey's quote of "schizophrenia is the modern day equivalent of leprosy."

As no person is autonomous in this world and it takes two to tango, I can document verbal and physical stigma against me on the part of police in the community wherein I live, mental health staff at clinics to which I have had appointments, family, so called friends and strangers resulting in a degenerative well being for me: such as excessive suicide ideation and a suicide attempt in 2008 for which I was hospitalised for the eighth time in my life.