WELCOME TO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE

This man has been stalking me for two months. The first encounter consisted of him coming up on me from behind, signaling me to pull over, there was no one else on the trail, he said, "You know something about homelessness, what's your opinion. Let me give you five dollars." I told him that I thought the homeless people and the synergy of 'support groups' living off of them (like parasites), speak very sadly of humanity..." He cut me off with great urgency, "Really, well, I have a question for you, and if you say no, I'll ride away and you will never see me again. OK, so, for twenty bucks would you lift up your shirt?" I responded, "No, I'm sure you will find lots of takers along the trail, but I'm too old for all of that..." He would not take no for an answer, "You, aren't too old..."

He didn't 'ride away,' I knew I was going to die, which is not a good feeling, and I see him "again" and "again," too often, he follows me relentlessly, he describes the women who take him up on his offer as pathetic, he calls me a hypocrate: Sunday must be his day off because he waylays me coming and going. Most recently he told me that he was investigated for the murder of the five homeless men: Ocampo was arrested for those murders, "But the lead detective is a friend of mine, from church, and as soon as the police realized that the police were done..." Figures, Ocampo was just exactly the sort of person who dirty cops pin their own crimes on; Ocampo loved the homeless, he would never hurt a fly. The lime green stalker creeps me out so much that I can't sleep and my nerves are shot all day, and the next, after he accosts me. It's the look on his face more than what he says, although what he says in itself is creepy: I told him that there was a witness to the third murder; she identified Bandito, and Anaheim PD told her to leave town and that if they ever saw her again she would turn up dead.

BANDITO:

Bandito killed those men because OPD O'Keiffe and Bandito were running rackets in the areas where those men camped; if there is one thing that a dirty cop does not want it's witnesses. Bandito came into my drawing blind, but I wasn't there so he slashed up everything and drew pictures of me being stabbed. Then O'Keiffe arrested me," You are looking the wrong way, if you had looked the other way, you wouldn't be getting arrested:" I had reported them for breaking into cars in the Century movie strip mall parking lot. I had the arrest dismissed, 'Camping,' was unlawful then, but I was not camping, I was drawing; the judge agreed.

This is what I would be drawing if fewer homeless mentally ill drug addicted violent repeat offenders were not under every rock and behind every tree in the Santa Ana River Bike Trail:

The Anaheim detectives tried intimidation on me, but I just ignore cop bullying; I hear it all of the time because I have been a Civil Rights Activist for decades, sometimes the police kill someone who they mistake for me; like for example: One time SAPD Officer Serabia got mad that I reported he had beaten a woman up and kept her as a perk for crack addicts who would perjure themselves in his weak prosecutions. Serabia arranged a hit and run, and he even reported in the Register that I had been killed where I stood with a homeless sign at Grand and Seventeenth. 'Reports of my death were much over exaggerated:' The look on his face when he saw me in a food line was priceless. Maybe he should not have bragged about killing me so much. It's cultural. To get even he had his main homeless ho, Diana, give me two black eyes, which she said she had, in front of an entire batch of homeless people, all of whom were disappointed when I took off my shades and her story turned out not to be true: 

 "Rumors of your black eyes are much exaggerated Ms. Wood!" According to George Dunseth.

No black eyes. My eyes are teal, because I was born in a part of the Tibetan Tundra where everyone has blue/green eyes, and no one lives in a house; everyone lives in a yurt tent on the permafrost: No trees, no homes, no nothing but tents, ice,  Muskox, and snow leopards. Recently the permafrost has started to thaw, and expose achres of big red diamonds. DeBeers is having a snit fit, because they only distribute three red diamonds per year between forty salivating site holders (Harry Winston), now, a parcel full of red diamonds can be gotten with the scoop of your hand. They (psychologists at Stanford) say that the first years of your life (of which I remember none) determine the remainder, indeed, I live in yurt, along the Santa Ana River Bike Trail, where much of the surrounding architecture resembles that of Kathmandu. A yurt is made of a woven frame with felt or hide coverings. It is sturdy and warm enough to withstand the bitter Mongolian winter, but still relatively easy to take down and move. Nomadic Mongolians would dismantle their yurts and load them onto two-wheeled horse-drawn carts when it was time to move with the seasons. Himalayans (Tibetans) move daily. I load mine onto a bike:

The lime green stalker talks about the importance of his standing in the community, his wife and children. His profession; he is an engineer. The creepy thing about it is that he enjoys describing his solidity in the community to me, because to me he is a creepy pervert, and since I am the vessle of that knowledge he relishes killing me: Serial killers set up the scenario that allocates the most power to themselves. It makes them feel effective, to target someone, and develop an intrigue where, 'she knew too much, so I killed her.' It's all about power and control. He talks about his social standing by way of making me the quintessential threat. It's not immediately apparent to the casual observer: You would have to have studied serial killers, which I did under Rustigan, at USF, when the Unibomber was a mystery yet to be solved and Rustigan was the leading authority in the case. Criminology is really boring but some of it makes for very good preparation if you are going to be drawing in the sort of places where creepy people stalk their prey. When a serial killer is talking to his victim his pupils constrict and he does not make a lot of eye contact because he is running a film in his head of what he is going to do to you, he is imagining his plan unfolding. It could be described as 'the point blank stare.'

If he is talking about someone who he already killed he has what the FBI calls, 'the thousand mile stare." A blank look, as if he is remembering. The lime green stalker has both.

Christians cater to criminals because Jesus was crucified next to a criminal, actually two, one on either side. Don't ask me why that makes sense to them.

I told the reverend (center) about the lime green stalker showing up whenever I am on the Trail, between Santa Ana and Orange. Most recently he followed me from my artist's blind to Chapman Ave., where the reverend serves lunch. I told the reverend that I had not been able to get a picture of the man, not yet, he said, "Just worry about your safety first, he gets you where no one else is going to see anything (that's true, I had not mentioned it, but maybe it seems obvious), so far I had tried to evade the interactions, but the lime green stalker is always there, he seems to be circling me. No one actually wants to 'get involved;' the Christians just like to hear themselves sound righteous and the cops would like there to be a corps first, because when there is a body there is bound to follow a conviction. For now the only crime is annoyance. The lime green stalker suggested that we exchange phone numbers: I gave him my blog address:

Mary, the woman who Serabia kept beaten and bloodied in the Santa Ana Civic Center for two years, told hundreds of people what was happening to her, both to the workers in the buildings, and to the Christians who came to serve food, when I saw her I thought she was a black woman, she was completely covered in caked blood, one of her rapists, a man who had been on on Serabia's 'perk recipient' list for years, told me, "No, she is a white school teacher, he got her beat into the bushes and he is never going to let her out. She was beautiful, but he's got everyone thinking she is a madwoman now." Everyone who had been given a green light to rape her thought it was quite a coup, and everyone else thought is was none of their business, except for me, I called the Register and said, "If you don't send an ambulance for her, like right now, I am going to expose the entire thing to the media, and I am going to name you as conspirators."

They sent the ambulance, the Register has an office in the SAPD Police Station, the purpose of which is to keep the cops looking good. I had a paid perjurer on tape describing a scandal that the PD would never recover from: Worse Mary had wondered to the soup lines, half comatose, daily, for two years, with broken bones, and hundreds of 'Christians' had parroted Officer Serabia to this half dead woman, "She wants to live like that, and we shouldn't interfere with her civil rights." Night after night hundreds of people heard the ear piercing screams coming from the bushes, they saw the flicker of crack pipes and did nothing. The worst horror of all is Diana (center) one of a dozen drug addicted prostitutes who enforce Serabia's edicts (in exchange for opportunities to perjuring themselves on his arrests, for which they are given cash and hotel vouchers). Diana and her friends deflected any help that passers by might have offered. Serabia went on to be a homicide detective, I am guessing that he and his working girl posse killed a lot of people who they conveniently claimed to witness being killed by others.

Pictured above is Sterling, one of the Camp Cash Grab 'Protectors,' there are so many that I get them confused, this one, actually, all of them twirl ninja knives, which is a skill, but they have convoluted it to kill intruders, coyotes, and rabbits. Yet Sterling says he grew up in hunting country. Hunters have respect for wildlife; Sterling claims to kill rabbits for his spouse, maybe she makes stew, I have no idea, nor do I know why he kills Coyotes: He says that it's because they attack people. Well, how about this: move somewhere else. I taped an interview with Sterling, he dances around the fact that there are three generators and three meth labs, cranking out speed 24 /7, in Camp Cash Grab, he says that it's to generate electricity; to run televisions (of which there are none). My observation is that there are two Ninth Circuit Plaintiffs in that camp, as long as the case continues they are free from cop interference to make as much meth as they can sell. The main Plaintiff has a bullet in his brain from a home invasion robbery, so, apparently he was not always homeless. His wife is still with him, but not in the same tent. His name is M.J. In Vietnam Emjay is a common name for a girl. I asked twice, indeed, the Plaintiff's name is M.J: Orange County has the largest Vietnamese community in America; one might want to choose a different call name. The County has jurisdiction in the park, not the police, so, I gave the Sheriff's Department this blog address, if they do not deal with the lime green stalker (case number 58236) the Protector would love to. Oddly, the primary purpose of law enforcement is to prevent vigilantism: termed lynching, AKA stealing criminals from custody: LE (law enforcement) will not take an incident report much less take someone into custody; Orange PD says that anything that happens in the Park is the Sheriff's jurisdiction. The end result is vigilantism:

To: nancywoodemail@email.com

RE: County of Orange case number 58236

• From:County of Orange

  Ms.  Wood,
  the actions of the bicyclist, as you have described, do not constitute a violation under CPC 646.9. I understand your concern for the described behavior. If you frequent the bike path area I am sure you see numerous people who regularly ride or run the path.
  My recommendation is avoid the bicyclist and if he does follow, harass  and make threat of harm/violence you need to report this type of activity to your local LE agency. 
•  Reply:
  "...if..." WTF, I reported him because he does all of the above: follows, harasses, threatens, and solicits me. Creepier Still: The lime green stalker stopped me on the trail to ask me who he should call about being assaulted and battered. Maybe he should call his mother. He claims that he was attacked at the Katella horse paddock by a crazed man who tried to kick him and lunged at him, and that when he called OPD they told him to call the Sheriff who told him to call SAPD who told him to call the Sheriff's Department, who told him to call OPD... In my opinion, if one man attacks another they should be able to handle it between themselves. However, if a man stalks and harasses a woman by soliciting her to perform lewd or indecent acts, the police and or the sheriff's deputies have the authority to arrest that man, the problem is that they are lazy and would rather that the crime escalate into something that the District Attorney can get a big fat juicy conviction on, the kind of conviction that guarantees a bigger budget for the sheriffs. Ridiculous isn't it; what they want is for me to kill the guy and that way there would be a high publicity murder trial, and everyone, except for me (and the guy who I kill), will live happily ever after.
  Some of the Christians have reported that their children have been sexually assaulted by the men who they feed at the paddock on Chapman, every Sunday. The police and the sheriffs tell them the same thing that they told me: "...report this type of activity to your local LE agency." Meaning, the same agency who just told them to report it to the sheriffs, the LE who just said, "...it's not our jurisdiction, the County is in charge of the Park." I have taped all of this ridiculousness, including statements from victims and witnesses regarding the sexually assaulted kids; I suspect that when the 'failure to protect' case goes forward the various law enforcement agencies will regret their game plan of passing the buck. They can explain all of that to the media in the eventual high profile case (For Which They Have Only Themselves to Blame).

Camp Cash Grab Federal Court Plaintiff

HOMELESSNESS IS BIG BUSINESS:

 if it didn't pay the rent none of the players would be working so hard at perpetuating it:

This (above) is me, with Christians. I have given up on asking them why they cater crap to mentally ill drug addicted violent repeat offenders; mostly it's so that they can run a racket deemed The Great Intercept, in which religious charities get all kinds of fed money, endowments, and grants, for (but deflected from) whatever might have been intended to get people off of the street: None is more deserving than the man with his hand in the till, just ask him. When Mary died she had ten million dollars in her checking account, all of it given to the homeless, gotten by Mary, who gave it to herself.


Grant approval committees require a photo of the 'good works' that they are distributing money toward. Rule number one among the penumbra of 'support' groups is that no one who is 'homeless' for more than three months can be allowed to reintegrate into society; by then the person has proven their inability to be of worth (the Christians don't say how exactly they have whatever proof of antisocial behavior has been demonstrated irredeemable after three months) sub section (a) states, 'never ever let a homeless person know where you live (the intimation of imminent danger answers the question posed by rule one). The result is that homeless people are permanently ghettoized; barred from access toward assimilation. The most blatant manifestation of this is when do-gooders follow homeless people around, like if they see someone from a food line at Starbucks; the do-gooder asks to speak to the manager about you. Do gooders believe that they are serving Christ and society by forewarning the world that you do not belong. Try it, instead of going to Vietnam with the kids this summer, tell mom and dad that it's their turn to come here; you can spend summer dressed up like a homeless family: The shock of how oppressed the homeless are will make you feel better about having to be stuck under communist rule for so long after the war: Things could have been worse, and they are, here, for the homeless.

Most homeless people are arrested relentlessly under this form of fascism. Not me, because I know how to defend my civil rights, but every day I see someone who does not know the law carted off to jail, at the impetus of a caring Christian. Muslims are just the opposite, they hide you, because Mohammad was forced to hid from the police at every turn. One time, when it looked like he and his family were doomed, they ducked into a cave, the police were hot on their heels, when suddenly and gigantic spider wove his web over the cave door, the police deduced that no one could be inside, and continued their search. Mwha ha hahah ha ha.

 Pit Bulls were not a big problem in Persia during Mohammad's time, peace be with him, the only dogs back then were Tazi hounds, used to hunt leopards, but now:

This (above) is the first camp on the west side of the Bike trail, north of First Street, in Santa Ana. The only reason why I am still alive is because I was on a bike and the pit bull who came after me encountered the exiting man in the purple shirt first: He saved my life, by the fact that the pit bull who came out of the tent got him first, took him to the ground by the ankle and tried to tear his foot off. If you have ever seen a dog attack, you know how unlikely it is that the man will be OK, his screams subsided; the dog's owner pulled the dog off of him, the victim is pictured here trying to run, on one leg, I was paralyzed with fear, the injured man was swearing. The dog and owner vanished into the tent. The attack lasted about a minute; the owner was right there, doing nothing, for a full minute, until the victim started bashing the dogs head in with a bike rim. The dog's owner and the victim knew each other by name. It might be one of the River Trail Wars. My phone didn't work, I called the police from the first pay phone I came to, but the officer said, that since no one had reported being attacked there was nothing they could do.