I always notice how gh15 reiterates over and over again the fact that the gov is his ally and that they hunt down whomever deals narcotics etc etc....all well and fine.
However : with gov being the sole drug dealer there is and " the war on drugs" being the war on competition
...I decided to let u guys in on some little secrets your leaders do not want you to know about
NATURALLY....GH15 WILL DUCK THIS THREAD AGAIN .
THE FOLLOWING ARE HARD FACTS NO PUNCHES SPARRED.
"
In 1983, Houston took me to Lampe for routine trauma and programming while he was scheduled to "entertain" at the amphitheatre. Also scheduled to perform were Bill Clinton’s and George Bush’s friends Lee Greenwood and CIA operative, slave runner, and country music singer Tommy Overstreet Greenwood and Overstreet were active in both the Lampe, Missouri and Lake/Mount Shasta, California CIA compounds. Clinton was flown in from Berryville, Arkansas by helicopter for the shows as well as for a business meeting.
Before Clinton arrived, Greenwood and Houston were in the backstage dressing rooms snorting fine after fine of cocaine, Houston, always eager to make an extra penny to pinch, attempted to prostitute me to Greenwood,
"She’s the real performer," Houston said. "She performs all kinds of sex acts upon command. For a small price, she’s yours."
Greenwood laughed, and referring to my Huntsville, Alabama NASA programming said, "I’ve spent more time in Huntsville than she has, and I know full well who and what she is-a ’space cadet’ programmed for sex. She’s a modified version of Marilyn Monroe." Tommy Overstreet had waited in and heard what Greenwood said. "How much time have you spent in Shasta?"
"Shasta?" Greenwood looked arrogantly at Overstreet and smiled knowingly as he said, "You don’t ’spend time’ in Shasta, you maintain the concept if you can. I haven’t lost any time there, either, if that’s your next question. I go there quite a bit. Enough really to override Houston’s suggestion with ease and take what I want, when I want, and how I want it."
Greenwood began expertly accessing my sex programming and told the others in the room, "You all can come and go as you please, but I’ve been made an offer that I am going to use." He ordered me to undress and bend over the desk where he roughly sodomized me as he said, "You’re going to think it’s daddy all over again".
When Greenwood was through with me, I was ordered out into the amphitheatre concert area. During intermission, I met up with Swiss Villa manager Hal Meadows, Tommy Overstreet, and Governor Clinton in the hall. Clinton was wearing a cap that read "Diesel Trainer" which I was told to equate literally as "these-will-train-her". Puzzled, I looked at his cap and asked, "Are you a conductor?"
Clinton smiled and said, "Of electricity". Overstreet laughed as he continued,
"Actually it means I check cabooses. How’s yours?" I squirmed. Apparently Greenwood had bragged about sodomizing me. They laughed even harder as Clinton said, "Still running, I’m sure".
Houston stepped out of the dressing room to greet Clinton, "Hi, bud."
Houston extended his hand. "I hear you made Governor."
"I hear you deliver a hell of a one liner," Clinton replied, cryptically referring to cocaine and NOT Houston’s so-called comedy routine. "I’m always aspiring to achieve new heights."
"Well, come on in," Houston invited. "I have enough (cocaine) to put us all into orbit." I walked into the dressing room with them as Houston was saying to Clinton, "I suppose there are no limits for you since you’re across the (stale) line."
"What line?" Clinton feigned surprise and ignorance. He looked at Hal Meadows as he continued, "You mean I’ve left that state of mine? In the state of mind I’m in, there are no boundaries anyway." He walked over to the table and snorted a line of cocaine. "I come here to get away from it all. This kind of business is pleasure."
"So where’s that young wife of yours?" Houston asked, referring to Hillary.
"She’s with friends." Clinton sniffed the coke further up his nose. "She’s minding her own business. I’m just here to unwind, see the show, maybe do a little hunting (referring to A Most Dangerous Game). I’ve got a bird (helicopter) ready to fly me back when I’m through. Hey, speaking of ’Byrd’ (he gestured my way) I hear she’s moved up to the big house (White House)." Referring to his friend and mentor Senator Byrd he asked, "So what’s his position now?"
"The same." Houston answered. "Probably like this..." Houston pantomimed a lewd sodomy pose while everyone laughed. "He still runs the show."
Clinton kept his eyes fixed on Houston’s "caboose" and said, "Why don’t you show her (referring to me) me way out and show me that again?"
If I could have thought at that moment, I would have realized Bill Clinton was/is bisexual. My personal sexual experience with Clinton was limited, but I had witnessed him engaged in homosexual activity during an orgy at Swiss Villa.
Immediately following the Swiss Villa incident, Houston was scheduled as usual to perform at the county fair in Benyville, Arkansas. There, Houston and I had been visiting with long time Clinton Mend and supporter, H.B. Gibson, when we parted company to attend a private meeting at the mansion of Clinton’s bisexual friend and supporter Bill Hall. Hall had reportedly made his fortune in the pre-fabricated log home business, and the Clintons were slaying in a guest villa patterned after those at Swiss Villa.
Hillary had taken toddler Chelsea to the villa while Clinton and his aide/bodyguard attended the meeting. Tommy Overstreet was also in attendance as this directly coincided with the recent Lampe meeting. We all sat in Hall’s sunken living room on two couches facing each other with a black mirror coffee table between us. Hall had cut numerous lines of cocaine on the table, and everyone present—including Bill Clinton—was inhaling it through $50 bills rolled into straws.
The conversation ranged from CIA, drugs, and politics to the Swiss Villa Amphitheatre and country music. At that time, a major effort was underway to move Nashville, Tennessee’s country music industry to the Lampe area (it has since literally moved to nearby Branson), in closer proximity to the CIA cocaine operations that leached the industry.
Tommy Overstreet was attempting to convince Hall, who was obviously no stranger to the drug (cocaine) business, to join the high level CIA cocaine operation that was funding covert activity. They discussed the possibility of Hall transporting cocaine from Berryville, Arkansas to Nashville, Tennessee to be in on the ground level of what would soon be one of the largest and most prolific CIA cocaine operations—the Branson, Missouri country music industry.
By enlisting now, the contacts and customers that Hall would procure could "politically and financially bolster him for life". Additionally, Overstreet discussed the viability of using Hall’s own company trucks to transport the drug throughout Atlanta, Georgia; Louisville, Kentucky; and Jacksonville, Florida as well as Nashville, Tennessee and Lampe, Missouri. These key CIA cocaine routes coincided with Hall’s established truck routes, according to the insiders present at the meeting.
Hall was being offered the "opportunity of a lifetime" as his role would also include laundering money through his business to fund the black budget covert operations. Hall appeared nervous and skeptical, and Clinton and Overstreet attempted to maintain a "light" atmosphere by joking that Hall could change the name of his trucking line to "CLINTON COKE LINES".
Hall was not convinced and began to raise questions as to the longevity of the operation and how he was going to protect himself. Although Hall was very adept at the cocaine business, he voiced concern that he found it easier to trust those who were not with the CIA operations l han he did U.S. government protected participants.
Clinton reassured him that it was "Reagan’s operation," but Hall was concerned that some faction of the government would "shut it down like a sting operation" without warning and leave him literally holding the bag, Houston laughed and explained that "no one was going to cut it (the drug business) off." He assured them it was far too lucrative and that there would "always be a market" for drugs-a market controlled by those criminals implementing their New World Order.
Clinton added to what Houston "said, talking in local colloquialisms.
"Bottom line is, we’ve got control of the (drug) industry, therefore we’ve got control of them (suppliers and buyers). You control the guy underneath ya’ and Uncle (Sam) has ya’ covered. What have ya’ got to lose? No risk. No one’s gonna hang ya’ out to dry. And whatever spills off the truck as it passes through (he laughed and snorted another line of coke) you get to clean up."
Hall smiled at his friend, which was apparently interpreted as consent. Clinton motioned for his aide to get his ledger. Overstreet began pulling out his paperwork, and Hall neatly cleared the table of the remaining coke lines.
Clinton gestured to me and told Houston, "Get her out of here".
Houston didn’t move and laughed. "She’s a Presidential Model. She’s kept secrets bigger than yours."
Clinton responded, "I don’t care. Get her the fuck out of here"
Hall’s wife led me away and locked me in a back bedroom. After an indeterminate period of time, I heard her telephone Hillary at the guest villa. She then drove me up the mountain through the dark to meet with Hillary. Although I had previously met Hillary we had very little to say to each other - particularity since I was still dazed and tranced from the tortures I had endured at the CIA Near Death Trauma Center in Lampe.
Hillary knew I was a mind-controlled slave, and, like Bill Clinton, just took it in stride as a "normal" part of life in politics. Hillary was fully clothed and stretched out on the bed sleeping when Hall’s wife and I arrived.
"Hillary, I brought you something you’ll really enjoy. Kind of an unexpected surprise. Bill ordered her out of the meeting and I look her to my bedroom and made an interesting discovery. She is literally a two-faced (referring to my vaginal mutilation carving) bitch," "Hmm?"
Hillary opened her eyes and sleepily roused herself "Show me."
Hall’s wife ordered me to take my clothes off while Hillary watched.
"Is she clean?" Hillary asked, meaning disease free.
"Of course, she’s Byrd’s," she responded, continuing the conversation as though I were not there, "Plus, I heard Houston say something about her being a Presidential Model, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean."
"It means she’s clean," Hillary said matter-of-factly as she stood up.
I was not capable of giving thought to such things back then, but I am aware in retrospect that all Presidential Model slaves I knew seemed to have an immunity to social diseases. It was a well known fact in the circles I was sexually passed around in that government level mind-controlled sex slaves were "clean" to the degree that none of my abusers took precautions such as wearing condoms.
Hall’s wife patted the bed and instructed me to display the mutilation. Hillary exclaimed, "God!" and immediately began performing oral sex on me.
Apparently aroused by the carving in my vagina,2 Hillary stood up and quickly peeled out of her matronly nylon panties and pantyhose. Uninhibited despite a long day in the hot sun, she gasped, "Eat me, oh, god, eat me now". I had no choice but to comply with her orders, and Bill Hall’s wife made no move to join me in my distasteful task.
Hillary had resumed examining my hideous mutilation and performing oral sex on me when Bill Clinton walked in. Hillary lifted her head to ask, "How’d it go?" Clinton appeared totally unaffected by what he walked into, tossed his jacket on a chair and said, "It’s official. I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed."
WAKE THE FCUK UP 
