it's "the scholar from the holler" -> <- theft of a quarter-million dollars
"johnny loved practical jokes...play one on him and you could guarantee payback. we connected well on this level."
-- loney hutchins on johnny cash, via facebook.
i make webpages about exploitation of brain-injuries, and i have two other websites. brent olean dot com is about a health-care provider in cranberry township who manipulated a damaged brain for insurance-money, and alex a baldwin dot com is about a girl and her family (and a district-attorney) who tried to have a victim thrown in jail for having a g-rated inflatable man on his roof.
a blog-umentary, an expose a documentary, a legacy

my own YELP about a business/healthcare-provider  
a 22 year-old who suffered a TBI at 16 is, mentally and emotionally, a child

think you know loney f hutchins, joan hutchins, john birdwell, andrew bruce battles?
read on to know how bruce, joan, loney, john engage in the abuse of mentally-ill people
hello, mister man. you didn't think i'd show-up with my army or pop-up the skeletons in YOUR closet, now, did you?
revenge revenge
well, i'm here to remind you of the mess you've set in my injured brain (i have nightmares of "involuntary confinement")
a petition by jd terreri (writing as mike and becky hobbs-parker for anonymity)

  what happened in sumner county -> <- will not stay in sumner county  
www.jaggedlittledyl.com / www.anti-gay.com
loneyhutchins.com / loneyfredhutchins.com / lonnie hutchins.com
loneyhutchinsgallatin.com / loneyhutchinsnashville.com
don't poke the bear, junior
loneyhutchins.foundation / loneyhutchins.co / loney.hutchinsandfamily.com
21stcenturylivingservices.com / sumnercounty.us / gallatin-tn.us
i may seem to go off-topic at times, i apologize, but search-engines love a keyword-festival.

21st century living services will HARASS and ABUSE the disabled, and BULLY victims of "traumatic brain-injury"
all of tennessee (and every american) should be ashamed that this quack "health care" facility is still running
california dreamin' - check the "my dreams" page for recurring nightmares i've had about being held against my will
move out of gallatin, loney, you'd fit right in with the demonic negroes in ferguson who love to burn things

(the crime is not only a matter of the bars they put over the outside of my window)

a shameless history: i am an addict. i have an addiction because i have a score to settle. i have a score's settling to schedule. i ain't too proud to snitch, and i shall warn you to never sign yourself into "21st century living services" (gallatin, tennessee) if you are a competent individual, because the two criminals/churchgoing demon-families who are behind the place (loney hutchins and his vagina-vag named joan hutchins, as well as john and joanna birdwell) are boastful and full of spiteful pride, and they will do their best to keep you in their adult day-care center with threats of lawsuits and...well, they took my car after i manipulated myself out of the contract they made me sign, i guess that's theft, and who knows what they will steal from anyone else.

who knows what they'd steal from anyone else <- newspaper article
the INFORMER can't tattle with yelp.com, because of a 5000-character limit, so take the tour.

my name is not albert, i have moved away from gallatin. before gallatin, i lived ten miles from la fayette college.
i'm a cowboy with a tbi. i have a traumatic brain-injury and a cleft personality.
i'm beautiful. bonita. muy bonita, pretty on the outside - i never deserved what loney hutchins did to me. benita.

this cyber-art gallery/studio, this bonita website, will also feature my experiences at THE WORST BRAIN-INJURY REHAB-HOME IN GALLATIN, TENNESSEE, AND THE WORST GROUP-HOME IN EXISTENCE. it will also feature plenty of allegations against the owner who i am in the midst of preparing to sue for a boatload of offenses. the least of the lawsuit's complaints will include loney's carting all of his clients to church every sunday. the pastor preached that homosexuality is for losers, not because of the masculivoid aspect of "men" who watch other men with gaping-mouthed antici (say it) pation, but because of the bible's rejection of homosexuality. the church did not use the edited and gay-friendly "placebo version" of the bible. the fact remains, I WAS NEVER ASKED IF I WANTED TO GO TO ANY CHURCH, but still this is minor compared to the boatload of grievances i have against him, his company and even the local mayor/government/police department who did not take my desperate holler and cries for help seriously. i was, in effect, being kidnapped by the home's dictatorial refusal to let me out of the faux-rehab program that was nothing but adult day-care and adult kindergarten full of blatant RETARDS. titanic retards...titans of retardoness.

since 1998, after my suicide-attempt (just suicide, because murder/suicide didn't even occur to me) which eventually manipulated me out of the "rehab home" (i call it a "retard home" or just "retard farms" - you should have seen the other clients), i have referred to the owner as "the bastard of nashville," and i will send you to the page of the website i started in 1999 that exposes him for the fraud that he is. my main domain name may be anti-gay.com, but it's not only the homosexual lifestyle that did a lot of damage to my life - the rehab home also damaged it by assuming the role of a dictator over my life for a year. i will hate all homosexuals and i will hate this rehab-home on leigh lane forever.

oh my josh, i hit a girl there! ha. some little asian or something, her name may have started with an A or a vowel...arc, maybe, or ann? no...hmn...all i remember about her was a pair of "mountain eyes," as i called them. she was a worker who was getting on my nerves and probably bossing me around. i don't remember much of it, except her fat husband said that she ought to sue me. that was the first of the MANY threats of lawsuits that i had received from loney hutchins and his establishment.

the bastard of nashville
i began my website of mockery/theater of the absurd in 1999, to mock and expose loney hutchins and also to flaunt my art and theatrical artistry:
my strong-yet-inhibited talents as a center-stage singer, songwriter, screenwriter, actor (second freshman inducted into the thespian troup at delaware valley regional high school), director, satirewriter, t-shirt designer, feminist-basher, gay-basher, negro-basher, etc.

my attempts were (more or less) an exit/in kind of thing, because loney, john, and the rest of the family of criminals [it was a family - loney and joan, also daughter joanna dale birdwell and her husband (loney hutchins' son-in-law), john alexander birdwell] would find a way to manipulate me back in once i got out.

i remember i had made at least 3 escape-attempts. the first was on the very first day i was there - i was in my room and bored out of my mind, i had absolutely nothing to do. no bowling-ball, no video-game machine - had no atari, had no nintendo, had no wii hab no sega. well, i had no cd or mp3 player, not even a guitar to play country music on - i was a fan of recording artists like dolly parton and johnny cash (i loved "one piece at a time," his song glorified crime and car-theft like my website glorifies crime and killing gay people - speaking of which, loney hutchins may have given me such a hard time because he knew i am gay - maybe loney hutchins is anti-gay).

anyway, i also loved rock music. matchbox 20, jordan knight, mr. jones and mr. springsteen and most of the bands and singers on mr. kacey kasem's top 20 countdowns (or billboard magazine's countdowns) - but the only music i heard was not given by a band but by some kind of songbird or whippoorwill that was perched on some kind of laurel-tree or timber-tree outside my window. i liked bob dylan, too...NOT!

well, i cut the window-screen and didn't pass a lake norcross a river or a water-gap when i walked to a church to get a cab to the adult bookstore near the cumberland river and the tennessee hills of music city (nashville).

the second was planned when i was at home in new jersey, during the snow of the christmas season. i guess i had my mom's "christmas cranberry pie" before i signed onto AOL to find help in the m4m room. i asked mr. ed baldwin to be a carter - to tote me or drive me down the hill and to the airport from volunteer state community college (loney had me going there for individualized study every day). anyway, when i got back, everything went as planned - ed was there and i left. i didn't take a jplane back home to the township-farms (or to florida state university to visit my beach-friends craig and rickey and kyle...or any girls named rose or beverly, marie, allison, louise or rebecca)...but stayed in nashville. just down the hollar/ holler from gallatin, but eventually i was taken back to the bastard named loney.
speaking of volunteer state community college and my "individualized study,' i put this in my 1999 screenplay because it DID HAPPEN - one day at the college, i called someone i met from the "philly gay live network" who lived in new jersey. i asked him if he could drive to tennessee and rescue me from loney hutchins. it wasn't long until loney told me not to call mark in new jersey anymore. hmn, i guess loney told the college to keep a watch on me, and i guess my privacy was invaded by the school's administrators. how did loney know who i called unless the school invaded my privacy and told him? here's loney's quote from my screenplay which was similar to loney's exact words:

And don't be calling your faggot-friend Mark anymore, unless you want him to get in a few legal hassles initiated by yours truly!

the third was around april (not may or june). i was going out with someone from aol, and i said i wanted to stay at our "ho jo" hotel room to sleep instead of going to the gay-bar (i was partially in a briley state of tiredness - in a state of brile y a w n!). i can still hear his words: "are you gonna be here when i get back," and i don't think i was lying when i said i'd be asleep. (no, it wasn't a come-on to suggest that i'd be sleeping stark naked). ahem...well, he went to a gay-bar to "buckdance" the night away, and i went to sleep - i woke after midnight to find him still gone. so i picked up the phone and i got a cab from the hotel/lodge to the airport. not the nashville airport, i was too paranoid to stay in nashville, i got the cab to the "hillbilly heaven" known as louisville. i doubt if nashville's briley parkway was involved, but i know i rode some highway on-board a greyhound during that escape to philly - maybe i did the "planes, trains and automobiles" thing. ha.

(actually, now that i think about it, i took greyhound from the airport. it was a long road/avenue, the cruise to philly from louisville - through kentucky and ohio, probably passing pittsburgh and harrisburg and breezewood on the pennsylvania turnpike - but i didn't want to take a plane because either i didn't want to show ID, or because i didn't want proof of an airline-ticket on my bank-card. i didn't want loney to be able to trace me.)

i called my dad in philadelphia, my dad told me to call loney, and loney manipulated (bullied) me back to nashville probably with threats of an "incompetency hearing". (actually, i just checked the screenplay/movie i was writing while in the care of doctor quintas at the psych-ward of the "tennessee christian medical center" - loney told me there'd be a "missing persons" report filed, but he also told me that i was "pushing this incompetency thing to the limits".)

actually, dr. quintas put me on a plane to meet my dad in jersey so that i'd be driven to austin riggs (austen riggs?) in massachusetts (stockbridge). i took a flight back to nashville on the layover in raleigh, i think it was. maybe charlotte. anyway, there was to be no austin riggs for me. i went to texas a few times after i got an apartment in nashville (bellevue).
they got rid of porn and "the world's largest adult bookstore," but there's still "Humphreys Street Coffee Co".
dates and accusations:

the state of the tennessee union, town of gallatin, was abusive towards me and my rights as an american.

in 1997-1998, loney fred hutchins and his company, 21st century living services, as well as an employee named john alexander birdwell, were guilty of kidnapping me and holding me hostage at loney's dysfunctional brain-injury rehab establishment. it is true that i signed myself into loney's establishment while on a drive starting in north appalachia and ending in south appalachia; this was after leaving a rehabilitation place in bucks county (pennsylvania) named wood (newton or langhorne was the town, the two are practically adjacent neighbors). i signed myself in, but loney knew how miserable he was making me by not letting me go. in fact, he and an employee named mario went and put bars over my window so that i couldn't make any escape-attempts. i was not mandated to be there, i signed myself in, but he did not let me out.

though loney was the manipulative one who intimidated me with threats of lawsuits and threats of being sent to a mental institution i'd "never get out of" (his words), employees at the time witnessed my screams of misery and i believe that they are just as guilty. these people should also be investigated, and these people should not be around children or young adults because these people were condoning witnesses to the abuse i was put though when i was a new adult. i will stress again that no transformation had taken place and i was still, mentally and emotionally, a child.

1) loney's wife (phyllis joan blasdel hutchins, a fat old bimbo/bombino who gave birth to another fatty named joanna - both mama hutchins and daughter hutchins could easily be named "jabba the hut-chins")
2) john birdwell (a fatty who looked like he could be a football/athletics coach for any high school in gallatin, hendersonville, portland or anywhere else)
3) joanna birdwell (married to john, but the daughter of loney. she seemed to be so junior in her demeanor that i'd have guessed that she'd probably someday be involved with some kind of pink retard-bus or service-league for susan g. komen and other members of what i know as "the pipsqueak gender")
4) andrew bruce battles (i wish his name was ben dover - wow, his hairy chest deserved an award, but this manly hero/hunk actually snatched the phone away while i was talking to insurance to have them stop paying)
5) dr. potts (a psychologist/counselor in gallatin - he was into bullying me, as well, because he said things like "i'll recommend to the courts that you receive a conservator" when i questioned why i couldn't just leave the retard-home.)
6) the gallatin police department (who responded to my calls for help, but ignored me)
7) mario, the handyman who put the "nightmare on elm street" bars over my window
8) house-watchers: kelly (blond-haired girl), julie (i think a brown-haired girl), ramsey (a negro porch-monkey)

these predators are guilty of EXTORTION - aiding and abetting loney hutchins on his kidnapping of a brain-injured young man and keeping him against his will (just for money from his insurance-company).

though i called the gallatin police department to save me from the horror and the clutches of evildoer loney hutchins and his "rehab for retards" company known as 21st century living services, though the police department listened to my captor rather than to me, though i have plenty of grounds to sue both the gallatin police as well as loney hutchins, i want to report loney hutchins to police as i've done to the tenessee bureau of investigation (the tbi is investigating him for other shady reasons).

to the tennessee bureau of investigation:

i was just reading online about how you are investigating loney hutchins and his company, 21st century living services, and i thought i'd contribute my two cents regarding the abuse of power that loney hutchins uses his good reputation to lie about.

loney fred hutchins (i will refer to him as "the bastard") and his wife (joan hutchins) took advantage of me and my insurance in 1997, and i will copy and paste paragraphs regarding him which i wrote in 1999 and posted onto my website, www.jaggedlittledyl.com:
the pills

loney made me take pills against my will. i remember telling joan, in one of the cognitive-therapy sessions she gave to me against my will, that the pills made my fingers almost unable to grab a pencil and made writing a chore. she was as unimpressed as shania twain was in 1998/1999. i guess the pills i'm talking about were risperdal or zyprexa pills, but i'm not sure. i am pretty sure that they tried a few different pills. i told everyone that i didn't want pills, that they were affecting my motor-skills, i even told dr. potts. it didn't matter, i was their plaything...i guess it was julie who was following orders and always making sure that i took them. oh, julie was also making sure that i practiced trumpet - something i thought i'd enjoy, but did not. i was not in marching band anymore, and i hated practicing trumpet. loney wouldn't let me quit trumpet. he did not ask me to "strip," but he was "adamant" that i - and i quote -"follow through with something". i guess my penchant for quitting rehab-programs played a part in his obama-like dictatorship.
the story:

out of desperation and lack of purpose, i signed myself into a quote-unquote "head-injury rehabilitation" program that was nothing more than an adult day-care center. i was sold on the idea that i'd be provided with a free place to live (free hotel/apartment) and free food someone would cook for me (free restaurant), courtesy of the insurance company, but i didn't realize the damage an extreme lack of freedom would do to me - after all, i AM ferris bueller. did i mention that i got there and he was all prepared with a contract to keep me there for six months, he wouldn't accept me into his program unless i signed a contract to be there for six months. talk about quackery.

now, i'm a head-injured adult, but can you imagine old men and women sitting around a table playing "simon says" and "bingo"? and the bastard had me included in this garbage. "i'm a caregiver," he claimed, but he knew the misery i was being put through in his "rehab program," he knew he was ill-prepared to give me a program that would actually help me with the things i needed help with. a number of times he showed me his true colors. things he said and did told me that he was angry that i was so uncooperative and that he was angrier at the way i felt about his blessed retarded "family". he showed that he was vengeful and controlling, that his spite was keeping him from letting me go. the superior way he acted and the looks he gave me all shouted the fighting-word, "touche".

you can read about my excursion with the "retard home," as i call it, in my screenplay/future film. 16 til i die. but here's an overview: the owner was into intimidating, manipulating and controlling me. his employees were babysitters for a load of legally imcompetent adults. his patients, the incompetent adults and me, were not living as much as they were just "being maintained".

** "being maintained" was actually a small threat to my independence spoken by dr. potts (perhaps loney, as well) to let me know what'll happen if i refused "help" or was deemed "past help" ***

a day at the "retard home" was as follows: i got up and showered and dressed, ate breakfast with the retards, at 9:00 or so i went to "the workshop" at the town-square (what is simply known as "the square"), and i "piddled" (wasted my time) there. the retards had "class," similar to "kindergarten," and i was to go down in the basement and study. all day long, studying for two classes/lessons i started at volunteer state community college (two classes i cared nothing about, but the counseling teacher's milk- spouting MOMmary glands were of the grade A+). ahem, so i paced. all day long downstairs. i was grasping for anything i could find to give me a reason to live, that's why i enrolled in the classes, i was certainly not a scholar, i had no winning intellect (or wintellect) in anything, but i was desperate for a sense of meaning in my life. i took up trumpet, i hired a math tutor, i even remember talking with joan hutchins about taking acting classes at watkins (or was it vanderbilt university) during one of our speech-therapy or cognitive-therapy sessions. i was so desperate for something to do, i was not living at that "program". i even volunteered at an spca...just for something to do to get me out of the "workshop". nobody was providing me with anything productive to do, anything i cared about. then again, i didn't belong there, it was my mistake for signing in...but the greedy bastard should have told me of that mistake and have let me go. soon, he even had me washing the floor of the workshop every morning. just like a slave. i'll report "massa" loney hutchins to better business sooner or later.


the screenplay i wrote in 1998-1999 can tell you what happened when january came around. my hopes of leaving the retard-home were "all shot to shit," in the words of danny torrence - i had lived miserably through the last month of summer, through halloween and candy-consumption (and probably a bad case of the trots), through thanksgiving turkey and christmas ham. fyi: "ronnie" is loney hutchins. "loney" is pronounced as "lonnie," he told me that his mother couldn't spell.

Sure you can, I trust you a lot! (TO ANDY) Now,
we have the issue of your contract running out to

What do you mean?

I can't send you home, your behavior has been tel-
ling me that you're not ready.

I won't go home, I'll go back on the road.

I certainly can't let you do that. Now, other op-
tions for you besides here wouldn't be pretty.

You're gonna send me to a mental institution?

I've been threatening you with that, yeah, a men-
tal institution may be the only place that would
take you, taking your track record of quitting re-
hab programs into consideration. You think being
here is bad, you'll never get out of there!

and here's one more snippet from the screenplay (dr. stetts is dr. potts of gallatin)

How come you can't get me out of here? How come I
can't just be set free, I could just buy a car and

We've been through this, Andy, I don't think
you're a competent individual. With your life or
with your money, I'll recommend to the courts that
you receive a guardian or a conservator to handle
your affairs.

see how they bullied me? well, i signed into his program for another five months. like a fool, i believed him when he said that all my escape-attempts were grounds for my being deemed incompetent. like a fool, i bought into his manipulation and signed another contract. so the next five months of my life were going to be miserable. and they were miserable. day in and day out, associating exclusively with incompetent old men and old women. well, one day i had enough.

it was morning, i showered and couldn't find my razor to shave. so i asked "fat boy" for my razor. "i had to take your razors away so you won't hurt yourself," he said as he went to retrieve them. now, i don't know if his words planted the idea in my head or if the idea was already there, but as he was watching me as i shaved, the phone rang and he left to answer it. slice, slice, slice, slice, slice...i did a hell of a lot of damage to my wrist. a hell of a lot. i was bleeding all over. i don't think i was intending to be sent to a piece of land with a lot of graves involved; i simply knew that something drastic had to be done, and i knew from personal experience that suicide-attempts are taken very seriously. ed baldwin didn't call me "eminem" and "mister manipulator" for nothing. i guess i should thank god, jehovah, that i didn't do any real damage to myself.

well, i was bleeding and the bastard was called - he came over and took me to the hospital to get sewn up. i guess he thought i'd just be sewn up and returned to his "care," but that was not the case. the doc sent me to a mental institution, i was done with the bastard, but i still had a little more manipulation to do to become a free man - the condensed version is that he agreed to let me out of the contract when he hadn't been getting paid for the month spent in the psyche-ward of the "tennessee christian medical center". read my screenplay if you wanna know it all.

(the screenplay for the motion-picture, 16 til i die, is on my jaggedlittledyl.com website)


here are a few things i remembered (and posted on my website) in 1999, about things that the bastard said to me in 1997-1998:

"i didn't threaten you, i'm well-respected in this town, nobody's gonna take your word over mine"
loney likes to pat himself on the head to the tennessean, as well:
'I think I have a reputation in this town that precedes me, and so does 21st Century'

"if you hit me again, i'll break your nose and we'll just say you had a little accident"
"i'm taking phone-privilidges away so you can't tell your rehab nurse to stop funding my program"
(he took away my internet-access for months, too - hey, gallatin respects loney hutchins, he's never wrong)
"if you break anything, anything, in this house, i'll sue you"
"we all have grounds to sue you for assault, though we weren't hurt, you struck in the eyes of law"
"i'm taking your picture so the police can have you on file"
"i put bars over your windows, you will not escape my service" (the bars were like the ones nancy's mom put over the windows of the house in "a nightmare on elm street" - maybe the company's handyman, mario, put them on)
"i told my staff not to let you out of their sight for a moment"
"you feel like a prisoner because you are a prisoner, for now at least"
"your dad will report back to me, what you did on your trip home"
"i never said you have my permission to rent a car on your trip home, but i'll allow it"

how could i forget loney hutchins on an ego-trip:
"i've got you by the balls, son, play by my rules or step in front of a judge"

he wouldn't give me up, he was intent on having his way with my life. playing games with my life, gambling with my life to strike it rich through the casino of my insurance company. to the injured: be wary and wave his rehabilitation-company goodbye. he is two-faced - a caregiver and just as much of a jealous superiority-complex as gay "men" are jealous liars who are green with envy of men whose heads are on straight enough not to see other men through the eyes of a curious outsider. loney hutchins was as spiteful towards me as gays and satan are spiteful towards life and towards the reality of gender. and (judging by stuff i've seen online) he is a supporter of obama. go figure.

(insert nanny fine's nasal laugh)


because of the suicidal maniac his said "rehab program" turned me into, he agreed to release me. i now look back at the situation and kick myself for having been intimidated by him, for not getting balls and standing up for myself and just exersizing my right to leave. well, after saying that he was releasing me because he couldn't live with himself if i ended up really hurting myself, he said that i still had months on my contract and that he wouldn't be getting the money that was rightfully his. he is a greedy motherfucker, he did not earn that money, he did not earn the money my insurance company paid to him. he was running a babysitters' club, something i did not need or ask for.

well, the greedy bastard said that instead of my paying cash, i could always just hand my jimmy over to him. so i did, my jimmy was worth at least 1165 dollars, but probably was worth at least 4 times that. loney is manipulative/jealous/lying complex wrapped in the self-proclamation of a "caregiver". he seems to be aware of this "split" or "cleft" personality, because he releases the music he makes on a label known as "cleft music". this is the story of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde.


hey, mister hutchins, what have you done?
hey, mister hutchins, google knows you some
hey, mister hutchins, you no superman
hey, mister hutchins, few know what you are
hey, mister hutchins, what's up?

it's a site made to cause you stress
it's a site made for my life's mending
it's a site made to harm your rep

hey, mister hutchins, what have you done?
hey, mister hutchins, google knows you some
i've been away for so long (so long)
i'd run away, you'd hold on (so wrong)
i'll get you known for your wrongs

it's a site made to cause you stress
it's a site made for my life's mending
it's a site made to harm your rep

pick it up, change your quack-rehab

there was nothing fair with your terms
there was no escape on your terms
and there's cutting for slit wrists, sure
but there's nothing you'll give in for
and if i'm cut to death, it's your fault
rot in hell

come on, it's a site made of my spite, freddy
it's a site made to harm your rep
it's a site made to cause you stress
it's a site made to harm your rep
what i flaunt, it's a site made of my spite, freddy

hey, mister hutchins, what have you done?
hey, mister hutchins, google knows you some
hey, mister hutchins, what's up?
hey, mister hutchins, what's up?
hey, mister hutchins, what's up?
it's a site made to harm your rep
it's a site made of my spite, freddy
it's a site made to harm your rep

hey, loney hutchins, prove that you didn't
hey, loney hutchins, why'd i slice my wrist?
who had you sold your soul to?
who had you sold your soul to?
hey, loney hutchins, what's up?

it's a site made to harm your rep
it's a site made of my spite, freddy
it's a site made to harm your rep

pick it up, change your quack-rehab
the bastard of nashville
...if only i had aids...
loney knew about my gallivanting from motel-room to motel-room (just like madonna/evita: "another suitcase, another hall"), i even told him about the scare i got in alabama (or was it kansas city, missouri?) when i fucked some masculivoid who told me to "wash" when he left and i saw that my penis was bloody. anyway, loney took me to get tested for aids, and he later told me that if i had aids then he wouldn't have accepted me into his program of quackery. i think he took me to get checked somewhere local...i remember going to some university-hospital in atlanta (definitely not uga/athens...definitely, definitely not) with him, but that may have been for a specialist regarding my corneal-transplant. i don't know.
444 is the angels' number, bruce, loney, john...444 is a sign that they want you to pay attention to something.
i'm a cowgirl, a diva -> <- and a shameless hussy
before anyone clicks into my jagged little website, i'll say to mr. hutchins (in the words of jeannie bueller),
you did this, and there are witnesses to (and records of) it everywhere