PROJECT SUPERMAN
A "VICTIM" OF THE ILLUMINATI’S
SUPER-RACE PROJECTS &
MONTAUK EXPERIMENTS SPEAKS OUT
[Introduction:
Memories are a strange thing, there are tangible
memories that can be proven factually, there are suppressed memories
which are clouded recollections of actual events, memories that are a
mixture of real and unreal events, memories based on imagination and
possibly most frightening of all, memories that have been
intentionally "programmed" within the mind of a person,
which might consist of anything between actual real life experiences
to entirely "designer" memories that may have been inserted
to "cover up" experiences that are far more stranger than
fiction. Just where in the spectrum the experiences of Andy Pero may
fit, I do not know exactly, although many of the places and people he
describes DO exist as evidenced by the links that I’ve added... so at
least a good number of his memories are apparently accurate... but the
question is, are his reported experiences with the alien time/space
projects as carried out in the Montauk bases also based on fact, and
if so to what degree? Others have made similar claims about montauk
{although these fantastic experiences do not appear until the last few
sections of Andy’s story} as can be seen by doing a SEARCH of the
Internet for other writings on the Montauk Project. So here then --
for those very few readers who will view this page -- is Andy Pero’s
story... - Alan]
This is my story, and this is my life. This is the time line in which
events occurred as well as I can recall. As I slowly regain my memory
this is my life as I can remember it. This is however just a rough
outline and many of the parallel timelines which coexist during my
life have been left out of this document. As time goes by more and
more of the pieces will fall into place.
Here is my time line
My father graduates from the US Navel Academy class of ’63 (Michael A. Pero Jr.).
Aug 1966-Nov 1968- My family is stationed at the CB’s Construction
Battalion Center in Hueneme, California.
Nov 1968- My family moves to Fallon Nevada. My father is the LT.
Commander at the Fallon Navel Air Station in Fallon Nevada.
Nov 25th 1969- I was born, in Fallon, Nevada. I am Michael Andrew Pero
III.
July 12th 1971- My father resigns his commission as the LT. Commander
at the Fallon Navel Air Station and leaves the Navy. We move to New
Jersey, and he begins work in the private sector.
June 1974- July 1976- My father begins a new job overseas, and we move
to Munich, Germany. {note: capital of bavaria, as in,
"bavarian" illuminati - branton}. I am 5 years old. I
attended to two different schools at this time, the German
kindergarten in the morning, and then the English kindergarten
afternoon (kindergarten and then 1st grade). This is where the first
discrepancies begin between my memory and my parents.
I remember living in Germany. I remember our apartment, and how our
cat "twinkee" would not listen to anyone who called her in
German. But if anyone, no matter who it was called her in English she
would come running. I remember my best friend was a little girl with
long straight brown hair and brown eyes. I ate dinner over her house
and I remember after dinner she took two beers out of her parents
refrigerator and we drank them in her driveway. I was all worried we
were going to get in trouble, but she said she drank beer all the
time. I took about three sips and felt like I was going to throw up. I
wanted to dump mine out but she didn’t want to waste the beer, so she
drank mine too. I remember my sister trying to teach me how to dance
and she flung me around the apartment so fast I was thrown into the
corner of the wall and cut my head open and had to go and get
stitches. I remember all of this.
But most importantly I remember the German kindergarten. I remember
the teacher and how she looked. She was very nice to me and had long
wavy brown and gray hair, and looked like she swallowed a tire around
her waist as she was heavy set. I remember being introduced to my
first "gummy bear" and how I thought they were the
"coolest thing ever". Being an American and being the
physically biggest kid in the class I was a sort of the class
celebrity, and the center of attention. I remember the mini pool they
had outside, it was only about a foot deep, but we would strip down to
our underwear and when it was warm outside go in for a swim. I
remember all of these things, but when it comes to the
"American" school I supposedly went to in the afternoon. I
DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING! I have no memory of another class room, I
have no memories of another building, I have no memories of any
friends, people, or teachers, no memory of even going to another
school. WHAT I DO REMEMBER IS AN AIR BASE. I remember as I was walking
up to it for the first time it was a huge place with a big chain link
fence around it.
There were airplanes and miles and miles of cement. And I don’t
remember the man who was walking with me but I DO remember asking him
"why are you taking me here?" and he answered "Because
of your father!" "But my father was in the Navy, why are you
taking me to an air base?" I asked again. And the man answers
"Son, all branches of the military work very closely
together." "But he is no longer in the Navy?" I
answered. And he said "We are doing this as a ’special’ favor for
your father." "Why" I asked. "BECAUSE WE TAKE CARE
OF OUR OWN!" he says as his tone has changed, and then he said
"you sure do ask a lot of questions you little shit." I
remember this hurt my feelings because I wasn't trying to be a little
shit, I just wanted to know why there were taking me to this strange
place. I don’t remember being inside of the air base, all I remember
is the inside of a doctor’s room. An examining room. They made me
strip down to my underwear and sit on this shinny metal table. I
remember the table being very cold, so cold that I asked if I could
move or get off it and a big booming voice shouts out "DO NOT
MOVE AND DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU ARE SPOKEN TO." So I sat there
with goose bumps on my legs. I hear movement behind me and I hear
"is this the kid" and a man comes over and starts examining
me with his hands, with a stethoscope, and hits my knee with a rubber
hammer. That’s all I remember. I was 5 years old.
I never really thought about it much, but as I began writing all this
down, I casually asked my mother for the name of the air base in
Germany where I went to school in the afternoon.
She said "you never went to any military air base for school in
Germany." "Really" I said. "Then where did I go to
school in Germany?" I asked her. "Some school of the
"Americus" at the university or something." She said.
"FOR KINDERGARTEN!!" I said. "Mom that doesn’t make any
sense, I went to a military base for English school because Dad was in
the Navy, right???" "Don’t be ridicules, I’m your mother and
I know where and when you went to school!" she says. "OK;
Then what was the name of the school in Germany mom!" I ask. And
she thinks and thinks and she can’t remember the name. We then proceed
to have a huge argument about this. She finally walks away and says
she doesn’t want to talk about it any more.
I had always just assumed that I went to the German kindergarten in
the morning and then the air base in the afternoon, because of the
connection through my father and that is why I was there. If I never
had asked my mother for the name of the air base, I never would have
thought twice about any of this. I never really thought about it much,
but now that I do think about it. I clearly remember the German
kindergarten, and clearly I remember the air base and the examining
room. I don’t remember ever going to any other school or having any
other friends from that school or even being there. I do remember the
conversation with the man as to why they were taking me there, and I
do remember the examining room. It is like a 5 second clip of a 10
minute movie. Just a couple of seconds and then it stops, and yet you
somehow know there is much more.
When I asked my father if he knew where I went to school in Germany.
He replied "sure" the McGraw Kaserne Army Troop Air Base.
When I asked him about the examinations. He replied "we were told
by a doctor that you had a "heart murmur or heart noise", it
was nothing serious but they wanted to examine me several times
anyway." The thing is later on after I graduated college I went
into see a cardiologist. I had been having chest pains for years from
the massive steroid injections they had given me my freshmen year in
college, I had developed arthritis in the cartilage between my ribs
from my rib cage expanding so fast from the steroids.
When I asked about my "heart noise" the cardiologist showed
me my print out and showed me that my heart beat was absolutely
perfect, and there is absolutely no sign of ANY "heart
noise" what so ever!
Aug 1976- We move back to New Jersey, I begin 1st grade, again, in the
local school system. My mother held me back believing that I would do
better in my schooling if I was one of the "older" kids in
the class rather than one of the "youngest" (I guess my
birthday was right on the border and it could have gone either way).
Sept 1979- My parents have been belligerent toward each other for some
time now, and decide to get a divorce (at this point they separate). I
am now 9 years old and am entering the 4th grade. As children, the
school system tests all children’s IQ levels, I remember being told
that I was an "absolute genius". I don’t know what my IQ was
but this was met with utter disbelief and I was mocked and ridiculed
by the parents and teachers because I was the "Big dumb
Jock". As I was by far the biggest kid in the class, and the best
athlete. However I had a severe stuttering problem. I was considered
to be the class idiot, because I never spoke, and I never did well in
school. {note: ironically, my own father was in the Navy, I was also
held back a grade, and did not do well in school... except in arts,
but in mathematics and similar subjects I failed miserably - branton}
So the fact that I was this "genius" must have been wrong,
and the parents of one of the most affluent areas in New Jersey would
not accept that this big stuttering idiot could possibly be smarter
then their sons and daughters so it was dismissed. I had had the
stuttering problem for as long as I can remember and all throughout my
childhood I literally could not speak a complete sentence, many time I
could not even speak a word. The thing is I cannot remember when or
why I started stuttering, but I do remember being able to speak German
fluently without any problem at all and having no speech problems
German or English at all. I stuttered severely from about the time we
got back from Germany up until the age of 25.
March 1981- My mother enrolls me in the "Silva Mind Control"
course, and this is where I first remember meeting "the men in
uniform." The Silva Mind Control method is sort of a self
hypnosis course where you learn to dive down into the different levels
of your mind. You learn things like how to heal your body with your
mind, relaxation techniques, ways to focus your concentration, and
melt spoons with your mind (things like that). You may have heard of
it? Anyway, while in the course we learned to go to our
"level" (a relaxed state of mind which is the bases of the
Silva method). I was extremely good at all of the things we were doing
for some reason right from the start. Children who are 11 years old
are very cruel to each other. And what happened was the whole class as
a group would close their eyes and practice "going to your
level" but as I came out of my "level" I would open my
eyes and find that the WHOLE class was turned around in their chairs
and they had been watching me for 15 to 20 minutes. They had been
watching my rapid eye movements, my body and my technique. As I came
out of it, they all began laughing at me. The instructor however, was
praising me like I was the next god’s gift to mankind. Telling me that
I was the greatest student he has ever seen etc. etc..
During one of the breaks (about six weeks into the eight week course)
the instructor asks me to go outside to meet some of his
"friends". I go outside with him (and let me tell you, when
you are 10 years old and you are in a class room for two hours at a
time on your Saturdays and Sundays for eight straight weeks you
ABSOLUTELY live for your 15 minute breaks) so needless to say I was
not very interested in wasting my "break time" talking to
whoever these people were. We go out the double doors and there are
two men waiting to talk to me.
THEY BOTH WERE WEARING MILITARY UNIFORMS, one was wearing army green,
and the other was in blue (possible air force but I can’t be sure).
The instructor states to the men "this is the kid" and they
make some small talk. To be honest I really didn’t pay much attention
to them (I was looking at the other kids on the play ground and
wondering why the hell I’m over here and not over there). But here’s
the main point; The man in green bends down on one knee and says to me
"I hear you have some very special abilities" and I said
"I do"? In a very confused response. He stands back up and
speaks to the instructor some more, then kneels back down and says
"It was very nice meeting you, YOU KNOW YOUR GOING TO WORK FOR ME
SOME DAY!" As an 11 year old you don’t quite grasp what is really
going on and I remember laughing and telling him that I didn’t quite
understand, but it was nice meeting him, and I ran off to the play
ground. But when I looked back, the three adults were still standing
there looking at me, talking about me, and sizing me up.
I just seemed to have an uncanny ability to do what ever the teacher
instructed the class to do. Everything he instructed us to
"envision" in our minds I could do better that anyone else
in the class. Bending spoons with your mind, going to your
"level", anything. I am now 11 years old and about to enter
the 6th grade.
Sept 1981- I enter the 6th grade. I had been playing organized sports
for a few years already (T-Ball, parent slow pitch etc..), but now was
the time for the first REAL challenge "the 8th grade school
soccer team." When the school soccer tryouts came I tried out for
the 8th grade soccer team as a 6th grader. The coach was against that
because he didn’t think I could play with the older boys, but he let
me tryout anyway. Well, I made the team, but I was so good I turned
out to be the best kid on the team, and we were the best team in the
county. I just had an uncanny ability to do what ever the coach asked
me to do. For example, the first day of tryouts the coach kicks the
ball to me and jokingly says "I want you to take this ball, go
down the field and score a goal" The thing is, I PICTURED IN MY
MIND MYSELF GOING DOWN THE FIELD AND SCORING THE GOAL. THEN I TOOK
THE BALL DRIBBLED THROUGH 4 GUYS AND I DID IT! I didn’t think about
doing it, I just did it.
It was like it was mind over matter. It is funny because honestly I
could do things that were so unbelievable on the soccer field. You
have to see it to believe it. Here is how; I honestly didn’t know any
better. I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that,
just take the ball down the field by yourself and score EVERY TIME!
But in my mind, I could do it, so I did it in real life EVERY TIME.
When the opposing teams coaches asked how old I was, when I told them
they didn’t believe me, after the games were over they would thank me
for not running up the score and humiliating "their boys".
That’s how good I was and I do have video tapes of the games to prove
it!
I not only made the team but started at left wing, and I was
exceptional. Later in the year I also made the 8th grade school
Basketball team and the Baseball team. I didn’t start as a 6th grader
in Basketball or Baseball but I did play. Just making the teams as a
6th grader was almost an incomprehensible feat, we were by far the
dominate school in the county in almost everything (always the team to
beat). I was very good for my age at Baseball and Basketball, but for
what ever reason I was untouchable when I was on the soccer field.
It’s funny, how can someone do things, they are not supposed to be
able to do? Whether it is a feat of physical strength or skill, or it
is a feat of great intellect or will, such as an actor or a
professional athlete beating the odds against them and "making
it", when all others said that it couldn’t be done.
Anything that we do as human beings, whether it be a sporting event,
starting a business, going to college or simply deciding to venture
out on your own away from home for the first time. ANY TASK YOU CHOOSE
TO UNDER TAKE, OR ANY FIGHT YOU CHOOSE TO FIGHT. 90% OF WHAT IT TAKES
TO ATTAIN YOUR GOAL, NO MATTER WHAT THAT GOAL MAY BE, IS ALL MENTAL.
AND FROM THAT FEAR IS THE KEY TO IT ALL! IF YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR FEAR
YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR MIND, AND IF YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR MIND YOU CAN
CONTROL YOUR LIFE. If you can understand that everything we do as
human beings is 90% mental, and 10% physical, you understand the
secret to life. And you will do well, at what ever you choose to do!
For myself, somehow using the Silva Mind Control methods, I had the
ability to picture myself performing extraordinary feats on the
playing field, and then somehow accomplishing them in reality with
ease, just like it was second nature. Don’t think, just do.
June 1982- My parents, when they were still together, had invested in
several houses in the area, and rented them out as supplemental
income. In June of 1982, my mother, my self and my sister move into
the house we used to rent out in Ramsey, and put the house we just
left on the market for sale (basically my father moved into one house
we owned in Waldwick, we moved into the other house in Ramsey, and my
parents sold the "big" house in Ho-Ho-Kus we all used to
live in and split the money in the divorce). Our "new" house
in Ramsey was located only about 10 minutes from the old house in
Ho-Ho-Kus but it was in a different school district. I am 12 years old
and going into 7th grade. Also starting in a new school.
July 11th 1983- My mother had been dating a man who’s name was
Walter
Johnson. They had been seeing each other for the past 2 years or so
and were engaged to be married. My parent’s had finalized their
divorce earlier that year, he had been separated from his wife for
about 4 years. On July 11th 1983, Mr. Johnson went over to his soon to
be x-wife’s house to sign and finalize their divorce papers. Unknown
to Mr. Johnson, his soon to be x-wife (Sally Johnson) had stolen a
.357 magnum pistol from her brother.
What happened next was the following, as Mr. Johnson was hunched over
at his desk in the basement of his old house signing the divorce
papers. Sally Johnson came up behind him and said "If I cannot
have you no one else will" and shot him in the back of his head.
He died instantly, and when the police finally found him two days
later his head had been completely blown off his body. EVERY WORD OF
THIS UNFORTUNATELY IS ALL TRUE. His name again was Walter Johnson. He
was the Director for Senior Executive Personnel for the EXXON Oil
Corp. New York office. He was killed on July 11th 1983 in Ridgewood,
New Jersey. He was my mother’s fiancée.
My mother, for the next several years was beyond any rational means of
description in terms of hysteria, and grieving. Her German friend
Astrid was a great help in her time of need. What this did to me
however was the following. As a 12 year boy, coming home from school
and seeing and hearing your mother crying EVERYDAY, AND ALL DAY and
then ALL NIGHT, AND EVERY NIGHT is very hard on a 12 year old boy. She
was beyond the word devastated. So, obviously at the time, I’m not too
anxious to go home after school. For a while I got into some trouble
(hanging out with the wrong crowd that sort of thing). Then I
discovered my new passion, working out and WEIGHTLIFTING! It became an
obsession. In the 7th grade I began working out everyday. I would ride
my bike up to the high school every day and workout for hours, and I
mean 2 to 3 hours EVERYDAY (anything to avoid going home)!
Dec 1983- From the start I was an exceptionally strong kid. Again,
somehow I just had the ability to picture doing something in my mind
(see my self doing it) and then do it in real life. Using the Silva
mind control I would lay in bed and mentally go through the next day’s
workout. For example, I would go to my "level" and
concentrate. I would picture myself bench pressing 195 for 10 reps,
then 205 for 8, 215 for 6 etc.. I bench pressed 305 pounds in the 8th
grade. This was more than anyone in the high school could do. Needless
to say I was HATED by all the high school upper classmen football
players before I even got into high school. I am 14 years old and in
the 8th grade. I also set the grade school high jump record
(5’-10") and tied the 60, 100, and 200 yard dash records.
Aug-1984- 1987- My first three years in high school were NOT typical.
I played football in the fall. Specifically did not play Basketball in
the winter so I could workout everyday. Threw the shot put and the
discuss in the spring (track and field) and then would workout like a
mad man in the summer to get ready for football in the fall again. I
excelled in all the sports in which I participated in.
As a Freshman, I was one of the best running back in the county. We
were division champions, and the head varsity football coach (Coach
Hyman) asked me to practice with the Varsity squad for the
Thanksgiving day game. The quarterback and captain of the football
team (Peter Bebei) when he got word of this cornered me in the hall
with about six other football players and he told me that if I showed
up to practice for his final game that he and all the other guys were
going to beat the shit out of me in the parking lot. He did not want
me "stealing his thunder" for his final game. I didn’t go
out for the Thanksgiving game and this really annoyed Coach Hyman
since he believed that I had turned him down. Track season comes in
the spring and I go out for the track team. I go out for shot put and
the discuss as well as the 100 yard dash and the high jump. Coach
Hyman coaches the "weight" throwers and won’t allow me to
throw with the varsity even though I am the third best thrower on the
team. I confront him about this and finally he lets me throw. In the
100 the fastest kid (I forget his name) tells me after the first day
of track practice that if I beat him again that he is going to kick my
ass. So I don’t try my best. Why does every one hate me? I keep asking
myself. I earn a varsity letter in track anyway.
In the fall Sophomore year Coach Hyman is having real problems with
his marriage and being an utter ASS Hole to everyone (teachers,
students, and athletes ). One of my talents, if you will, is that I
can judge a person’s character within minutes of meeting them. By
their body language, gestures, personality etc. I can size up the
person’s worst fear, what they are feeling, what they want all in a
matter of moments. It’s like reading a person’s soul as easily as you
are reading these words. I just seem to have a "knack" for
it. Anyway, I walk into Coach Hyman’s office during one of the breaks
and say to him "don’t worry Coach, everything will work out with
you and your wife." Trying to be helpful. He freaks out and
starts yelling "get out of here you F*CKING piece of shit and
don’t come back because YOU WILL NEVER PLAY HERE AS LONG AS I AM THE
COACH." The next day he brings me into the deans office and tells
me to "quit" because I will never play at Ramsey High
school. I never quit but for the next two years everyday at practice
he would scream at me to "get off his field" and I wouldn’t.
Not for any great love for him or the game by any means. It was simply
stay and get yelled at or go home to my hysterically crying mother. So
I stayed and took his abuse but he felt so violated that I knew what
was going on in his life he didn’t want me any where near him, and of
course I was right next to him for everything because I wouldn’t quit.
This made him extremely hostile towards me.
This continued all through high school. The thing is, every now and
then, whether it was going into the locker room at half time or after
the game getting back on the bus, or at the track meets I REMEMBER
seeing the same two military men (Mr. Green and Mr. Blue). I would
play in 10 football games per year and throw in approximately 20
twenty track meets a year. Thinking back I only saw these men 2 or 3
times a year. To be honest I only remember seeing these men twice at
football games during my four years in high school. Both times I was
walking off the field after the game and I started looking for my
parents and I looked into the crowd, and they were, just standing
there in the middle of a sea of moving people looking right at me. And
I said the same thing "that’s odd, what the Hell are those two
guys doing here." And again I would just dismiss it. I would
mainly see them at the track meets. Let me explain, in High school
track there are two types of meets. The track team schedule consisted
of 10-12 "Bi or Tri" meets, when our school competes against
another school, or two other schools, in which case it is a tri meet.
These are small meets and I NEVER saw these men during one of them.
The other types of meets are the county meets, relay meets, and state
meets. These meets consist of 20 to 30 TEAMS being there. As such
these are huge events. I would say between 5,000 and 10,000 people
would be there (I mean some of these things were HUGE events). Anyway,
how did I pick out these two men among 10,000 people. The way these
meets work is everyone sort of goes to their own area. The pole
volters go to the pole volt area, the high jumpers go to the high jump
pit, and each area has it’s own crowd which then forms around each
area (all the coaches of those athletes, the parents etc. etc.). So,
the shot put circle usually is over and off to the side somewhere,
basically clear of everything else. As we began to throw, all the
competing athletes, the coaches, and the parents would all sort of
gather in the same area to watch the event.
At least once a year at one of these big meets my eye would just catch
the odd site of these two men in uniform at these meets. I honestly
convinced myself that at least one of them had to have a son that was
competing or something. It wasn’t unusual to see men in uniforms at
the track meets because other kids were going to go to school at the
military academies and as the meets transpired I occasionally saw
other men in uniforms walking around and talking to people. For
example the shot putter from Lodi was going to go to West Point, and I
saw another man in a green uniform over talking to him. What made this
all so weird was the two men I’m talking about were looking at me and
I didn’t know why. I didn’t put it all together until years later.
May-1987-
Track season junior year, at one of the major relay meets, it was
announced the prior week that there was going to be a "clean and
jerk weightlifting contest" sponsored by some guy I had never
heard of. I of course was all excited, and trained that week on my
technique.
As it turns out all it was, was a guy with some rubber mats and a
Olympic barbell set in the middle of a grass field. I took second
place with a lift of 265 lbs power cleaned to the chest and then
pressed over my head. The kid who won was a senior and did 275. It was
just sort of a "friendly" contest. I am 17 years old and in
11th grade.
July-1987- It’s summer time and I am training for football. I get a
call from a coach I had never spoke to before, coach Himmel? Humle?
Burle? I can’t remember his exact name or his phone number but I do
remember that he is from somewhere in Colorado. Anyway, he is the
United States Power lifting team coach and he wants me to drop
everything that I am doing and move to Colorado on a whims notice, to
go train for the clean and jerk. I asked him in confusion why he was
calling me, I finished second in the contest? He then says to me I
finished second but the guy I lost to was a year older but more
importantly he was also 50 pounds heavier. So pound for pound I was
much stronger and as it turns out that in my age group and for my
weight (17 years old and between 201 and 229 lbs.) I was ranked fifth
in the country, in this one particular lift. This may seem like a
dream come true for me, but let me tell you. Just like with anything
you do, even if you really enjoy it, there can be things you really
hate about it as well. The power clean and the clean and jerk were my
absolute least favorite exercises. To be blunt, I loved working out
but I despised those particular two exercises especially. This along
with the fact that I could not just "get up and leave my
mother." She was doing much better, but by no stretch of the
imagination could her mental condition be considered to be
"stable." I am 17 years old and about to enter the 12th
grade and I do not go to Colorado to train for the U.S. power lifting
team.
Aug-1987- Football camp senior year, I test in the bench press 390
lbs, in the squat 505 lbs, and in the power clean 280 lbs. We finish
the season 6-3 and are division champs. I begin working out again and
I start to think about college.
Dec 1987-May 1988- My workouts continue very well. However I develop a
"new idea". Now when I go through my workout mentally at
night I have added a new "twist". When I am down on my
"level" in my mind I have added a huge chair in the room in
which I am standing. Using my Silva mind control I sit in the chair.
On the left hand side of the chair are some "air hoses" like
you would find in a auto garage. I imagine, that on both of my arms
there are these "air hoses" coming out of my arms. Like an
I-V hose coming out of your arm. This is my "pump up chair".
In my mind I connect the hoses coming out of my arms to the hoses on
the side of the chair. I push a button located on the right arm of the
chair with my right index finger and the chair activates. Like an air
station I can feel the vibrations as I sit in the chair. As I sit
there I see my entire body start to swell. Like blowing up a balloon.
I mentally tell my muscles to grow and swell like balloons, AND THEY
DO! I do this for about six weeks.
This works so well that many of the parents and teachers think that I
am now doing steroids. I am not, but the situation snow balls into
some kind of "witch hunt" and they make me take a steroid
test. What happened was as I am working out one day Father Jack (the
local priest who is always hanging around the kids and the football
team) comes into the weight room as I am working out. He says to me
"Andy, there is a lot of talk about your steroid usage, and if
you admit it to me right now every thing will be all right."
"Father Jack" I said "I don't use steroids." He
says "I’m going to ask you one more time to admit to using
steroids." I look him right in the eye and I say "Look
Father, I DON’T use steroids." And he got very angry and says to
me and I will never forget this "Don't ever speak to me again
you f*cking liar, they are going to hang you by you balls and I am
going to be there to watch!"
A few days later Jeff Brown (one of the kids on the team) comes in to
the weight room and tells me that Father Jack wants to see me at the
grammar school as soon as I am done. When I finish my workout I go up
to the school and Father Jack is waiting for me impatiently. He grabs
my arm and I get brought in front of some kind of panel in the
basement of the grade school located down the street. There are four
members of the panel and the rest of the room is filled with teachers
and parents. Dr. Purrizzo who is the chief orthopedic surgeon at
valley hospital in Bergen county New Jersey. Bergen county is the
third most affluent area in the country, and the towns of Saddle River
and Ramsey are in the top towns in the country in terms of wealth. Dr.
Purrizzo is a heavy heavy hitter in the area if you know what I mean.
When President Nixon, who resided in Saddle River before he died, hurt
his knee playing tennis Dr. Purrizzo was the surgeon who performed the
operation, and for a while was on the Presidential list of referral
surgeons. I am standing in front of the panel and he starts pressing
me to "admit" that I am doing steroids. And I keep answering
that "I DIDN’T DO IT!". He keeps pressing me saying that
among the panel they hold seven PhDs and he thinks they know what
they are talking about so "make it easy on yourself and just
admit it". And I keep telling them that "I DON’T GIVE A SHIT
WHAT YOU SAY AND I DON’T CARE WHO YOUR ARE AND WHAT YOUR CREDENTIALS
ARE, I DIDN’T DO IT!" He tells me to take off my shirt to the
show the acne on my back, but there is no acne. This sort of thing
goes on for a while and he finally tells me to "take off your
shorts or admit to doing steroids". What could I do, so I took
off my shorts and I volunteered to give a urine sample. I had to piss
in a cup in front of the panel as well as everyone else wearing only
my sneakers. He is very pissed at me and does not give me my shorts
back for quite a while. This whole time one of the other members of
the board is Dr. Purrizzo's friend. He is a Psychologist and between
the two of them they now start saying that they are going lock me up
in for being mentally insane if I don't admit to taking steroids. And
again I say "LOOK, I DIDN’T DO IT!". This goes on and on. I
had gone through a whole defense proving that I didn’t do it and no
matter what I said and no matter what proof I presented I was going to
be hanged whether I did it or not. Finally I say "Tell me how you
know that I take steroids, what’s your proof, do you have a camera in
my house or something, how do you know?" Finally after much
persuasion from the crowd and from myself reluctantly, he begins to
explain that he has a degree in genetics, and that he has been
studying my genetic code for years. He then goes on to explain how his
son’s genetic pattern is superior to mine in terms of dominate DNA
markers. He had been doing a private "thesis" study showing
how through superior genetic breeding and steroid usage he could
create a superior human being. He had a test subject and a control
subject.
His son was the test subject and I was the control subject. He had
been injecting his own son with steroids for years and since his son’s
DNA pattern was superior to mine, his son, in theory, should have been
more physically developed then me. And since he wasn’t, Dr. Purrizzo’s
only explanation was that I must have been taking steroids as well,
and he must prove that I was or else his life’s work would have been
wasted.
This was all a great theory, however the fatal flaw where he had made
his mistake was that he had assumed that I was of Italian background
because my last name is "Pero". So he was comparing my
DNA
patterns against the same ones he had used for his son who is Italian.
He never bothered to ask if I was Italian, I am NOT. My background is
Hungarian, Romanian, and Czech. This makes all the difference in the
world, and I manage to get out of there unscathed.
When the test comes back, it is negative, and I tell all those
involved that they can go "stick it where the sun doesn’t
shine." The whole episode is quite funny as I turned their
"witch hunt" into a circus, especially my defensive
strategy. For the rest of the school year all the people who were at
the trial all gave me the dirtiest looks imaginable. All because I had
the utter nerve to stand up for my self and say "I didn't do
it!" This was Ramsey New Jersey, and the feeling in the air was
that they didn’t care if I was falsely accused they would not stand
for a child talking to them in that manner.
It was all videotaped, and at one time there were several copies
floating around. Anyway, as a result of this, I stop using this
technique for the present time. But that was far from the end of Dr. Purrizzo. I am 18 years old and in the second half of my senior year
of high school. This experience was very scary for the reason that I
saw the "adult" world for what it really was. As a child you
grow up believing that all adults are "all knowing" and are
on top of things. But as I stood there and Dr. Purrizzo is telling me
that if I didn't admit to taking steroids that he was going to have me
committed to a mental institution and have a lobotomy performed on me.
As I looked around ALL the other adults just stood around like scared
sheep. Not one of them said a word in my defense. This was the
strangest feeling, seeing the adult world as a child for what it
really was for the first time. I realized then that adults are exactly
the same as the children, only they are bigger. There is one bully
that runs the show, and everyone else just stands around scared to say
anything. Just as they do as children.
Now and for the past several months college football recruiters have
been in contact with me both by mail and personal visits as the
selection process narrows. I should have been already
"signed" by a major University. But since Hyman made me
disappear from the college scouts for two years by not playing me. I
had fallen out of the "Blue chip athlete loop" and I am now
scrambling to find a school. I am talking to two or three smaller
division two and division three schools as well as Penn State. Penn
State had been where I wanted to go all along but Hyman was trying to
cover for what he had been doing to me by lying to the Penn State
coaching staff, sending them the wrong films, telling them different
statistics things like that, because he didn’t want to have to explain
why I didn’t play at all as a sophomore and hardly as a Junior.
Finally he gets exposed, and Penn State offers me a scholarship for my
first year and then a "full ride" after that. I was going to
get free room and board, all I had to pay for was books and classes
(an out of state student was going to be about $3000).
It is the track season, at the county track meet (the championship
meet). I win the discus and set the county and state record with a
throw of 167 feet and 11 inches. I finish second in the shot put with
a throw of 57 feet and 3 inches. AT THIS MEET I VIVIDLY REMEMBER
SEEING THE TWO MEN IN MILITARY UNIFORMS WATCHING ME. They were right
there, for both events and watched me set the record.
Ever since I had gotten my drivers license I used to like to unwind a
little before going home. So I would ride around the area and play
music in my car. A few days after the trial while riding around a
bronco type vehicle is flashing their headlights at me from behind, so
I pull over. This happened on West Saddle River Road, and I pulled
into a small parking lot right next to the red building where my step
mother used to sell real-estate. It is Mrs. Purizzo driving the
bronco, she is an incredibly beautiful woman (late thirties with a lot
of plastic surgery). She was at the trial and during it lets just say
that I had made her blush when I was standing in only my sneakers.
There is another woman with her. A woman I had never seen before. She
had long black hair and dark eyes she was even more beautiful that
Mrs. Purizzo. They tell me to get in the back of the bronco (when you
are 18 years old and two of the most beautiful women you have ever
seen tell you to get in the back of their car it is difficult to
resist) so I play along and I do. Mrs. Purrizzo hands me a small
plastic shot glass (like something you would see in a hospital) it has
some kind of clear liquid in it and she tells me that it’s water and I
must be thirsty and that I should drink it. I’m thinking to my self
"she has got to be kidding if she thinks I’m going to fall for
that." I take the glass and pretend to drink it behind the high
back head rest of the drivers seat but in reality place it still full
on the floor mat behind the drivers seat. The women then start to
giggle and make small talk by telling me how handsome I am, and how
big and strong I am. I know exactly what’s going on and I play along.
I return the complements by telling them that they are the most
beautiful women that I have ever seen, and when I look in their eyes I
become lost floating on a sea of dreams. I made both of them blush
with that one. Then they ask me if I am ready to go with them.
"Go where" I ask. "To the hotel room of course"
Mrs. Purrizzo answers. "You can go to the hotel room if you want
to but I am going home" I say. She asks me "are you sure you
don’t want to come with us?" she asks. "Positive" I
answer and I start to get out of the bronco. "Oh yea" I say
"Here is your water back" and I hand them the small plastic
shot glass. They look at each other and cannot hold back their smile
and look away and to the floor. I get out and say "see you
later". I get in my car and drive home.
The next evening at about the same time, but in the exact same spot,
and in the exact same car the two women pull me over again. And again
I pull onto the same small parking lot on West Saddle River Road. I
get out but this time I go only to the window. Mrs. Purrizzo has the
drivers window rolled down and says to me "Andy, can you kill
this for me" and hands me a coke can with just a little bit left
of something left in the bottom. Again I am thinking to my self
"who the f*ck does she think she is kidding with this." I
say "SURE" and I take the can of coke from her and walk over
to the dumpster and toss it in. I walk back to the car and I can tell
from the look in her face that she is pissed off. I say "anything
else" and I turn my back to her and walk away. I get in my car
and drive away.
The next night the same thing happens, in the same spot at the same
time. I pull over and get out of my car angry. As I walk over to her
bronco I say "Look this stupid game has gone on long
enough". She interrupts me and says "Andy, PLEASE just get
in because we have to talk." I say "NO", and she begs
"Andy, PLEASE!" As she almost has tears in her eyes. Like an
idiot I reluctantly get in. This time they have a bottle of Vodka with
three small plastic shot glasses. The woman with the black hair pours
the three small glasses full and hands me one. I had had enough and I
say In a rude tone "DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT I AM SO STUPID TO
BELIEVE THAT THAT’S REALLY VODKA IN THAT GLASS!" She says to me
"were sorry for fooling with you and want to make peace, will you
have a drink with us?" I knew from the get go that what ever she
was giving me had to be drugged with something, but at the same time I
felt somehow that there was going to be no getting out of this. I was
not afraid of Dr. Purrizzo because I really never did steroids and I
had nothing to hide, I just wanted it all to be over. So I thought
about what to do and finally I said to her ""MRS. PURRIZZO I
WILL DRINK THAT GLASS OF WHAT EVER IT IS ON ONE CONDITION AND ONE
CONDITION ONLY! IF YOU SWEAR, IF YOU PROMISE THAT YOU WILL NOT LET
THEM HURT ME. DO YOU SWEAR YOU WON’T LET THEM HURT ME!" And of
course she swears that she won’t let them hurt me, and of course like
an idiot I drink the glass of "Vodka". I am out with in
seconds.
When I wake up I am in a hotel room. I am sitting in a chair and it is
very difficult to keep my eyes open, but I can make out several dark
figures in various spots around the room. I couldn’t keep my eyes open
but I could hear. They had given me sodium pentathol and were now
going to get the "truth" out of me. I can barley see him but
I know it’s Dr. Purrizzo. He starts asking me questions. "Andy
what kind of steroids do you take?" "I don’t use
steroids" I answer. I can hear him cursing as he asks me again,
"Andy, you wouldn’t lie to me would you, I’m going to ask you
again, What kind of steroids do you take." And again I answer
"I already told you I DON’T USE STEROIDS!" and I hear him
ranting and raving. His friend the psychologist then comes over and
asks to take a try. The line of questioning changes from direct to
indirect questions. He asks "Andy, tell me, where do you buy your
steroids?" I answer "I have never bought steroids." He
asks "How long have you been taking the steroids?" and again
I answer "I’ve never taken steroids". Dr. Purrizzo is now
furious and he is ranting I’ll get it out of him and he stabs me in my
right thigh with a syringe and injects me with more sodium pentathol.
I think I lost consciousness for a while and then the questioning
begins again. "Where do you buy your steroids?" and again I
answer "I don’t use steroids." This goes on and on for a
while finally the psychologist comes over and asks me "Andy, if
you don’t use steroids how do you explain your abnormal
physique?" Simple, I answer "I CHEAT!" What do you mean
by "you cheat" he asks. "I USE THE POWER OF MY MIND TO
BUILD MY MUSCLES; IT WORKS PRETTY GOOD.. DOESN'T IT?" and I
remember a big smile coming over my face as I felt proud of what I
could do. And they all come over to me and I then proceed to explain
the Silva Mind Control method that I use. How I go to my level. The
psychologist asks me to do it now, and I find myself explaining my
trip down into my mind. When I get to my "level" I give them
a tour of "my room". They are all talking in astonishment.
"WAIT" I say "HERE IS THE BEST PART" and I explain
to them the "pump up chair" I use to grow my muscles, the
underground stadium where "I can do anything" on this
"magic" field.
I hear the psychologist yelling at Dr. Purrizzo "And you want to
give this kid a lobotomy, I COULD MAKE A F*CKING CAREER OUT OF THIS
KID!!!" He said something like I was the greatest
psychophsiologic example, and that I had the greatest Autogenic
abilities he has ever seen (or something like that). He also used a
term something like psychoneuroimmunology if that makes any sense.
Anyway, he then tells me to open my hand and starts to place objects
in them. He tells me that I am holding a banana and he wants me to
crush it. I squeeze the "banana" and I feel it
"squish" like a banana. I hear everyone start murmuring in
disbelief. I have no idea what they placed in my hand but I do know it
sure as hell wasn’t a banana. Soon after this I start to feel sick. I
fall off my chair. I am sweating profusely, and I start convulsing as
I begin to throw up. As I am laying on my left side on the floor
throwing up on my self. The psychologist comes over to me and looks
into my eyes, he drops me and starts yelling at Dr. Purrizzo "HOW
MUCH DID YOU GIVE HIM!... HOW MUCH DID YOU GIVE HIM! HIS PUPILS ARE
DILATED AND HE NEEDS TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!!!. NOW HOW MUCH
DID YOU GIVE HIM?" Dr. Purizzo answers "two thousand".
The psychologist answers "YOU GAVE HIM TWO THOUSAND, HAVE YOU
LOST YOUR MIND?" Dr. Purrizzo answers "and then another two
thousand when he wouldn’t answer". The psychologist answers
"FOUR THOUSAND! HAVE YOU GONE TOTALLY INSANE?. THIS KID HAS TO GO
TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!" Four thousand what I don’t know
(milligrams, milliliters, Cc’s) I don’t know, all I remember is the
numbers. I keep throwing up and I hear then arguing. The psychologist
is yelling at Dr. Purrizzo "you said you had a plan, what’s your
plan". Dr. Purrizzo answers "I was sure we would get it out
of him that he was lying, and then we would be excused from taking him
because he was a lier." "THAT’S IT!!!? THAT WAS YOUR PLAN,
TO KIDNAP A KID AND THEN NO ONE WOULD PRESS CHARGES BECAUSE HE WAS
LYING TO YOU ABOUT TAKING STEROIDS? YOU HAVE GONE ABSOLUTELY
INSANE!" Dr. Purrizzo then says "We will take him to my
office and give him an Emergency lobotomy so he will never tell
anyone!" Mrs. Purrizzo then steps up and says "IF YOU HURT
THAT CHILD I WILL TELL!" Dr. Purrizzo then turns to her as he is
laughing and says "WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TELL?" "THE
POLICE" SHE SAYS "I WILL TELL THE POLICE!" He starts
calling her a little bitch and how he is disgusted that she would turn
against her own husband for this kid. "I will not allow you to
hurt that child" she says. He says "WELL DID YOU REALLY
THINK I WAS JUST GOING TO LET HIM GO, AFTER WHAT HE DID TO ME AT THE
TRIAL." "I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO HURT THAT CHILD" she
repeats. Then there is some discussion as to what to do. Finally the
psychologist comes over to me as I am covered with vomit and barley
able to remain conscious. He starts swinging this little metal ball on
the end of a string in front of my face. I try to watch it as he tells
me to and then everything goes black. I wake up, and I am on the front
steps of my house and my car is parked on the street front of the
house (I know I didn’t drive it home because I always pull into the
driveway). I have a lot of trouble getting up, it feels like I am
drunk or something and I go right to bed. The next morning, I have
trouble getting up in the morning and I can’t quite make it out but I
had the weirdest dream about being in a hotel room, and Dr. Purrizzo
was there. I remembered most of the events but it was very foggy.
The weekend goes by and then after my workout on Tuesday as I am
driving around in the same spot there is the bronco again. This time I
remember what happened and I am pissed off. I get out and I slam the
door and I start yelling at Mrs. Purrizzo. As I am yelling at her and
walking towards the car, she rolls down the window and starts to say
something, then the next thing I know is I am back in the hotel room
again. I was in some sort of hypnotic trance or something. I couldnít
move, and the psychologist then instructs me to start squeezing things
again.
He has this little gauge and when I squeeze the hand grip I break it.
After he ran all of his tests, then it was Dr. Purrizzoís turn. He
makes me act like a monkey and try and lick myself. I remember jumping
around the room stretching like a monkey and feeling very stupid as
they laughed at me. Then he makes me act like a chicken and does many
other things to humiliate me. This goes on for hours.
Finally, the women who are in the room tell the men to get out because
they now want to have "their" fun with me. The women with
the black hair now comes over to me. She says a few words to me. I
don’t know what they were but all of a sudden I felt a feeling like I
had never felt before, I felt like an animal, territorial, like a
primal beast, I got up and started walking around the hotel room
pacing back and forth. My muscles are all pumped up, my arms all
muscled and out to the side and my chest is fully expanded as I strut
around the room. I am looking to defend my lair against any male who
may come near. If I see another male I will kill him. As I look over
to one of the beds the woman in the black hair is naked and on her
hands and knees. She has her back arched and is waving her butt around
like she is some bitch in heat. I see her and get an instant erection.
I walk over to her, rip off my shorts and start, excuse the term,
f*cking the shit out of her. I pick her up like she is a five year old
and just started wailing into her. I felt like a primal animal. I
f*cked her like I was some sort of a beast from the stone age. And she
was loving every minute of it. I wasn’t reaching climax, I was just
nailing the shit out of this woman. It wasn’t pleasure I was feeling
it was more of a territorial act if that makes any sense. After a
while I pulled out and literally tossed her aside when I saw Mrs.
Purrizzo sitting naked in a chair in the corner masturbating as she
watched me nail her friend. I grab her by the hair and throw her on
the bed and repeat the same procedure with Mrs. Purrizzo. This went on
for hours as the women had me "f*ck them" in different
positions, in their Vaginia as well as their anus. Carrying out every
sick fantasy they had, I would do what ever they told me to do to
them. I an f*cking the woman with the black hair in a chair in the
corner. So hard that she has passed out, I didn’t care I just kept
right on going until I heard voices coming from behind me, male
voices. I hear "WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU GIRLS DOING" and then
I hear Mrs. Purrizzo say "well what did you think we were going
to do with him". "I don’t know? I thought you were going to
make him act like a chicken or something" I hear him say. I pull
out of the woman with the black hair and toss her onto the floor. I
turn and see Dr. Purrizzo and a few other men by the door. Without
thinking I reach down and grab the chair by the leg with my left hand,
I stand up and grab the other leg with my other hand and rip the chair
apart like breaking a wishbone. It was like the chair was made out of
toothpicks or something because it took no effort at all, I just
ripped it apart. I now had a chair leg in my left hand and I toss the
rest of the chair off to the side. I start walking toward the men with
my "club" my "weapon". Mrs. Purrizzo becomes
frantic and starts yelling "HE WILL KILL YOU! GET OUT NOW!. HE
WILL KILL YOU" to Dr. Purrizzo and she runs toward me to give the
men time to get out, I push her aside and the men are scurrying out
the door. They left in such a hurry they didn’t close the door. I
wasn’t running toward them, just walking very fast, when they left I
didn’t go after them I just wanted them out of "my lair". I
slam the door closed, lock and chain it, toss my club aside and grab
Mrs. Purrizzo and toss her onto the bed. I remember feeling anger as
she was "disobedient" and I nailed her as hard as I could
until she had passed out. Then the woman with the black hair comes
over again and this goes on and on. I don’t know how it ended but the
next thing I know is I am laying on my front steps again, and again my
car is parked on the street and not in my driveway.
Over the next few weeks I would find myself stopping at the same spot
about once a week. I don’t know why, but some times I would just pull
the car over. The next thing I know is I’m back in the hotel room.
This time there are four women (Mr. Purrizzo, the woman with the black
hair, and two others I had never seen before). I remember feeling like
"an animal" again. As I was pounding one of the women
against the head board I hear voices behind me. This time there are at
least ten people watching. I see two of the women I had already had
sex with on their knees giving a blowjob to one of the men (I think it
was the husband of the women I was screwing at the time). These sick
people are now getting off watching me screw their wives. And again I
throw the women I am screwing aside and go after the men. And again
the women run interference so the men can get out the door. I wake up
and I am trying to get into my house.
Another time everything is black and all I remember is hearing
"G*D DAMN IT! HE’S GONE SOFT AGAIN!". I struggle to open my
eyes and I am laying on my back, there is a woman on top of me. She
was a bit heavier then the other two and not quite as good looking. I
push her off of me as I try and get up. As I am coming around
immediately the woman with the black hair comes over to me and tells
me to look her in her eyes, to focus and to look at her. I remember
looking at her and then after that all is black again. This time I
wake up in the back seat of my car which is parked on the street in
front of my house.
Another time the woman with the black hair and Mrs. Purrizzo decide to
take me to the woman with the black hair’s house. They must have been
drugging me as well as having me in a hypnotic trance because they
were trying to get me out of the car and I could not move. I was as
limp as a rag doll and these two women who weighed no more then 115
pounds each are trying to get me, a 230 pound kid, out of the bronco
and into the house. I remember them having a very hard time and being
dragged across the ground up the front steps and into the house. I
remember this because someone had called the Police and they show up
at the house about five minutes later. The two women are frantically
trying to figure out what to do. They sit me on the steps going to the
up stairs. The woman with the black hair tells me that Mrs. Purrizzo
is my mother and you just had your tonsils out and your are still
groggy from the anesthetic. She opens the door for the Police and
tells him the story how Mrs. Purrizzo cannot go home yet because her
house is being painted, and her son is still groggy from being under
anesthetic. The cop asks me if I am all right, and I tell him that I’m
fine and I confirm the women’s story. The cop leaves and they close
the door. They start telling me how I was "such a good boy".
I remember them telling me how they are going to do treat me
"extra special" for being such a good boy. They were trying
to get me up the stairs and they were complaining because I wasn’t
helping them enough. I kept telling them "I’m trying! what have
you done to me?" "Nothing Andy!" they said. I remember
them throwing me on the bed and then I felt them trying to get my
cloths off, after that everything is black. To this day I remember
which house they brought me to, and where it is.
May 1988-June 1988- The recruiting "scuffle" has basically
past and I have my college selections narrowed down to two or three
schools. My heart is set on going to Penn State. In the mail
mysteriously comes a letter from West point stating I was scheduled to
have my physical taken to continue my application process for
acceptance into West point. I never had discussed attending West point
with anyone. At first I thought it was my father playing some kind of
sick of joke. I spoke to him and he knew nothing about it. The
physical date comes and goes. About a week later another letter comes
stating that I have been "rescheduled" for another physical
appointment at West point. This date comes and goes. A few days later
I get a phone call, the person asks why I had not gone for the
physical. I tell him that had no interest in attending any military
academy much less West point since my father was an Annapolis
graduate. About a week later another letter arrives, this one states
that my presence is now requested at the US Navel Academy to have my
physical taken for admittance into the US Navel Academy. This date
also comes and goes. That was the last incident involving the
academies however since my academic record and my SAT scores were not
even close to academy standards the whole incident is very suspicions.
Dr. Purrizzo comes to my house, rings the bell and tells me he wants
to speak with me out on the street. He proceeds to tell me that he has
"made a great mistake". After rechecking my DNA pattern
against the correct hereditary background it turns out that I am the
one with the superior DNA code. In fact, he says we used your code to
determine dominance of some unknown markers. He knows of my situation
with Penn State and tries to give me $4,600. The money was for college
for me. I tell him I don’t want his money (I also knew that if I had
accepted that money as "payment" for damages done that I
could not sue him latter, I think that this was his plan and that’s
why he had gotten so mad when I would not accept it). After my final
episode with Mrs. Purrizzo and the woman with the black hair they have
a wad of cash for me. "Andy take it!. You’ve more that earned
it" she says. I tell her I don’t want her dirty money and I hope
she chokes on it.
A few days after that Dr. Purrizzo shows up again at my house, tells
me to walk with him to the street again. He tells me that "he has
been discussing it with this psychologist friend and that my mind
functions in such a way in the subconscious THAT HE CAN MAKE ME THE
MOST POWERFUL MAN IN THE WORLD". He then tell me to get into his
car and he wants to take me to his office to do this for me. I say
"REALLY?. OK.. I’ll go, but only if my mother comes with me...
Can my mother come with me?" He says that this is just between
"us men". I tell him to go f*ck himself and start walking
towards my house. He starts talking "Your a very smart kid! you
had a 50/50 chance! we were going to get drunk and then decide whether
to make you the most powerful man in the world or give you a
lobotomy." I stop and turn to him and say "do you really
thing I’m going to believe you when you tell me that YOU are going to
make ME the most powerful man in the world? you might do this but ONLY
if you could control me, if you could not control me then you would
have to destroy me! Do you think I am that stupid? Now get the fuck
out of here before I call the cops!." He then says "as I
said you are one smart kid". He gets in his car and drives away.
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