Living Pncers

Presbyterian Homes, in its commitment to good works, stressed out Marie Varenas, to threaten me indirectly through her about taking me to court to put me away, and I don't see how this is in any form a merciful Christianity. I myself am nearly beyond the point of caring, the ugly words of a dying woman almost out of her mind in her own right. She agrees with me about the attendants, that they are to be feared, but today it was "Who the hell are you? You don't have any rights." I held off, as she is near the end of her life, as I'm near the end of having access to a platform, without believing I'll get lucky. I am not angry with a father's sister in severe decline, but rather the corporate office adding to her stress, and I plowed through their Spring Mills numbers until I found the right one, at 4:50 pm Tuesday, 610-834-1001, and intend to get further combative with them tomorrow. I made hints with Liberty on the Rocks, knowing better but hinting anyway, that I'd have to go underground if I'm to survive at all, but I'm not particularly intimate with their rotational culture, whether their new to the conversation, or regulars, and I'm certainly not in a position to earn money in computer sciences, though I suppose I do okay with the limited level of literacy I have. 
Walking out of section 202, to turn an idiom, will impact my disability insurance, barring I find a temporary mailing address. I told Trudy Richardson to shut her damn mouth, always talking over me, with that innate minority minstrel sensibility bred into the descendants of sharecroppers. "Why do I have to do it?" She'd rather I give my notice, since their notice of eviction will be a lengthier process. You obviously don't read her, nor observe the reasons for my antagonism toward a google-eyed jackass with her gapped front teeth. If I could, I'd critically injure her, though literally hordes could be tapped to replace her. Perhaps her question was "Why make me do it?" But we hung up on each other, me with my torch for competency and justice, and her-- well, this is how Presby makes their money, ruthless, battering, what has my obstinacy achieved? Padre: don't get bent out of shape, but it is a bit late for that, as I'm fighting my way to the sewer, evidently. I, with all this intelligence, all this promise, not knowing if O'Brien lost a local election. Something. His website is inactive.