Holy Bitch Diary: September 11th, 2023

📖September 11, 2023 🦈Yesterday, the stinky girl finally decided to wash himself for the first time in six months. In short, after he beat me, apparently he realized that with his certificate that he was crazy (no matter if it was real or forges as his passport) after this performance, he really had a great option to get an involuntary hospitalisation in a psychiatric clinic. Both factors in which this is possible in the case of a stinky are public danger (beat me, repeatedly beat the dogs, constantly opened his hands, threw himself at me with books), and the inability to serve himself (does not wash, does not clean, both rooms that he occupies exude the stench of his own urine and the urine of his dog, with the same urine he watered the sofa in the corridor so that apparently me and my dogs would sleep better, and he simulates the loss of speech and memory). In short, what is called he is a guaranteed client of a madhouse. I emphasise, that the stinky is not my father, and is not biologically related to me (in case you missed the previous episodes of my blockbuster). He didn't wash for several reasons, among which the problems with his head are not the most basic. At first, I thought the thing was that the stinky was afraid to leave his fake passport unattended. The stinky has a forged passport, a drawn photo with a drawn fur on his head and without ears, and everything is filled with chiaroscuro. That is, the complete dissimiance from his own face and my father's face can be explained by the fact that the photo has eaed, or the photographer is a jerk. The stinky on his passport photo was simply drawn on his head an overlay of a dead cat, similar to the one from the serial singer Joseph Davydovich Dgjumagaliev, or the hereditary Belarusian prince Gennady Modestovich Mikhas. I remind you that the first managed to be still a deputy of the State Duma of the Russian Federation in his spare time from cooking woman's dumplings, and the second became a man of a great scientific and princely career. Historical words are remembered: - But let me, how did he serve in the cleaning? - I didn't assign him there. Mr. Schvonder gave him a recommendation. Actually, this cat lining painted in a fake passport instead of hair, the same one worn by two serial cannibals who arrived from the territories of the former CIS (Belarus and Kazakhstan) from the point of view of forensics and the norms of criminal law suggests that wigs made of dead cats of all this trio were cut in one muzzle sewing studio. But I still think that the stinky didn't wash because of the passport. Here as in a public bath - he goes to the bathroom with his purse with his passport and other shit. Now he has put the locks on his smelly rooms, to find out what he keeps there is already for those who will do the search and take-out. So most likely the reasons were different - firstly, he could be a real schizophrenic, secondly, he was afraid that he would be closed in the bathroom, which smelled deliciously of mustard gas, or that while he was there he would perform his washing with knives (almost like a dance with sabres - I say, I just have a fucking theater here 24/7, the series brigade, and I'm in the stalls). The stinky stole the bathroom key a couple of weeks ago, and I really strained. There are no trifles with such bastards. Conan Doyle had such a story about Sherlock Holmes, in which a caring stepfather, in order to get her stepdaughter's inheritance, made her ventilation in the room that did not lead anywhere, and hung a lace from a non-existent bell, on which he let his pocket viper to rush. Here, in fact, the case is very close. The method of crime is a little different, but it's all the same. Well, the worst thing the stinker did - thirdly, why didn't he wash - I brought my dad expensive clothes, which the stinky put on his smelly armpits and smelly body, and did not use deodorant in principle. That is, I stained someone else's expensive clothes, which can't be washed with my smother. I once sprayed on him with Caroline Herrera, I was brought to my father, perfumed water, so the stinky tried to hit me for it, and yelled at the whole house, after which he went to wash off the perfume. This bastard announced to me that he will not wash for a year now, to make his stench even more disgusting, and to make my allergy to his stench even stronger. In short, yesterday in this nightmare I had a small pause, which I decided to spend on going to the library for a couple of hours. Because of the rupture of the ovary, I almost didn't go anywhere for 10 days, I worked lying down at the flat. I got dressed and went as soon as possible, but literally 300 meters after leaving the apartment, I was twisted by a terrible pain in the pancreas, liver and stomach. Remembering the Magnitsky case, I go and think - well, everyone, fck, is already poisoning food. But I keep going to the library. In short, another 200 meters later, my craving for knowledge gave up under the onslaught of an unexpected attack of acute pancreatitis, hepatitis, and gastritis, and I went back to the smelly apartment. On my return (20 minutes after leaving), I found an awesome picture in the apartment - Tatiana Vladimirovna Shumilova together with Sergei Mikhailovich Shumilov and a huge puddle on the floor in the corridor, right by the smelly sofa. This couple started shouting that my dog pissed off the puddle, yelled, waved their hands, and quickly closed in their stinky room, after which they called somewhere and the stinker told loudly on the phone how my dog was pissing in the hallway, and that I threw out some blue baul. Fuck, these two schizophrenics will shit any day and any mood, it's a rare talent. Now they're making up a legend trying to shove the theft of my family's documents and photos on me. They're all fucked up. And this is despite the fact that all the photos from the words of Tatiana Vladimirovna Shumilova (and these are two huge suitcases of photos weighing about a centner) she burned at the dacha. Here's an example of another madam without a certificate of mental health: what a good fellow, she confessed herself. But what's more, she managed to leave a dozen photos that she sparked and cut, put out her father's eyes in the photos, cut off my hands, tore off my grandmother's head, and the remaining five pieces depicting dad's female colleagues in the hospital signed obscene. But that's not all! This "mentally healthy" Shumilova Tatiana Vladimirovna was engaged in urine therapy according to Malakhov (I say - these geeks do not have the slightest disgust to the urine, it is apparently like champagne for them), roasted cockroaches on the stove (they had a rare breed on Bakinskaya - on such noble food from mustard gas and her children's gingerbread, which was not taken by any poison except for 11 rubles - boric acid), and she had to see a cockroach crawling in the bathroom not just crush it or flush it into the sewer, it was necessary to do it with boiling water. Details of the life of her daughter who grew pubic hair, hair on her legs and armpits, and for three months did not wash her hair "like Uzbek women," I will leave for later. Daughter, by the way, with a certificate that she's crazy. And all this trio, please note, telling about me that allegedly I went crazy, for inexplicable reasons enjoyed some incredible level of trust in their lies. About like a jerk Uzdenov, who does not use either computers or smartphones, like a very devout one, calls them shaitan machines. His secretary printed him all his e-mails on paper. Then, however, it turned out that it was not about religion, but that they arrested his friend Zakharchenko, so this bald man mowed under a Muslim believer and walked with a button phone for three kopecks. Remember - he is not a Muslim, he is from the At Takfir Val Hijra sect (banned in Russia), is a terrorist organization. All terrorism, including jihad sauce, is the same branch of the 3rd Reich as drug cartels. Don't put your ears under the noodles of these bastards. By the way, there was a legend from Uzdenov that I allegedly had problems with my head. Well, yes, it's a headache, I've had it twice in my life. That's what they wrote in the certificate: headache. Headache is not crime, isn't it? You have no idea how tired I am of these vile nauseating freaks. What an amazing life they have - not to get confused in their own lies and not to go to prison, frying cockroaches, compresses from urine, and an overlay of a dead cat instead of a wig. Romance, blasphemy. Series Brigade. 🦈🖤🎞Follow me: #meggi #meggifromhouseofskjold #ceoboost  #meggifromskjold #daughterofskjold #sisterofgoering #meggigoering #meggigöring #raevskayarepnina #annamariaserafimaraevskayarepnina #мэгги #мэггигёринг #раевскаярепнина #аннамариясерафимараевскаярепнина