I haven't been in a bar or a tavern since 1991 when I first suspected that Illuminati agents were gunning for me in those kinds of places. They knew I wanted to write books that exposed a lot of the crap they were pulling behind closed doors.
This is a picture of one Illuminati operative who was recently working undercover as a bouncer at a roadhouse in Potter County, PA, where I stupidly stopped for a beer and a burger last summer. When I recognized him I quickly snapped his picture with a cell phone camera and then I turned and ran like hell, falling down in the gravel parking lot and skinning my knee and everything.
I thought I heard him laugh when I tore out of there in my Ford Ranger, which I just sold last week for more money to buy burgers with. Without the beer, of course.
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