My father proved I died.
After not seeing my father for six years or more, I paid him a visit just after my reading at the Berkeley Psychic Institute. Vic called up his newest best friend, and told her his fake son was in town. She got in her car and sped to the scene. Bursting in the door, she found me in the kitchen, pulled up a chair, leaned over and said;
“You’re family is the greatest soap opera – ever! Tell me your story. I’m dying to hear your version.”
Now before you hear the proof there is a heaven, and perhaps, God, let introduce some of the cast. Above is a photo of a desk. Above the desk is the photo of Svetlana Perlowin, whom the King of Pot allegedly married in the Fed lockup. Svetlana is a famous Russian spy who slept with an FBI agent, and got secretes out of…
View original post 935 more words
Leave a comment