Sunday morning in northeast Seattle

It’s Sunday morning and I can hear the voice of the mobber with the tribal tattoos: “Move on!” He doesn’t own the south mobbing house but seems to be one of the main minders and harassers there these days; his red SUV is in the driveway more frequently than that of the owner and has been there since yesterday now. This guy is one of those I was thinking of when I sent a letter last week to Seattle Police Department and said that they need to look into who these people are and what they’re doing here.

The tribal tattoos mobber has a female compatriot who shows up in a mini cooper that last night began to slide down their driveway in fits and starts. Considering the fact that she’s part of the ring of real estate mobbers who are working with the nasty neighborhood watch and their development cronies to turn over the house I legally rent by harassing me out of it and showing my landlords that they cannot keep a tenant in this neighborhood, I was tempted to ignore the sliding vehicle. But instead, to protect the cyclists and walkers who would walk behind the carelessly parked vehicle on their way down to the Burke-Gilman bike trail, I had a roommate inform the owner.

The balding owner of the south mobbing house was also there yesterday, hiding behind his designer sunglasses, his presence marked by the quick movements of his large SUV into and out of the garage. So far as I can tell, his franchise family girlfriend is almost never here anymore, though I continue to hear her voice in the mobbing and have occasionally heard him telling the nasty neighborhood watch woman that he’s on his way to meet his franchise family girlfriend somewhere. She hasn’t shown much of a physical presence since I started writing about how she said in court that they couldn’t have children if I continued to live next door. Perhaps she’s off playing queen bee in another mobbing for some criminal real estate speculators elsewhere or maybe she moved to another “tenant relocation” gig that isn’t in the middle of blowing up in the faces of those attempting the crime.

And the nasty neighborhood watch lady? It’s a beautiful Sunday and she’s out there working the neighborhood, trying to entice passersby into joining her neighborhood email list though in doing so she makes those who do not know her well enough to know better, party to more than two years of felonies on the part of the criminal real estate speculators she brought into the neighborhood along with the rest of the dysfunctional neighborhood watch and their shady developer friends.

It’s also possible that nasty neighborhood watch woman is attempting to make it unpleasant enough for me so that I might leave before the Sunday showing of yet another real estate listing up the street, though it could be that she and her bullying friends have a daily commitment to put in their time, making harassment a habitual public spectacle, before their minders show up for their shifts in the houses north and south of me and they can depart for their Sunday drives and Seahawks games. Sounds elaborate, I know, but if I’m right and this “property mobbing” thing is a racket that has yet to be exposed and prosecuted, they have a lot on the line.

This morning, as soon as I opened my front door to let the cat lounge on the deck, the nasty neighborhood watch lady emerged and began dragging trash cans to and fro along her parking strip, and almost rhythmically enabling and disabling the locks on the vehicles in her parking strip, the clicks accompanied by the bell tones of keyless entry. She also enjoys fanning her fingers over her wind chimes, setting off her car alarms, and throwing blocks of wood around on her deck. No wonder that, even though this public display does not occur in the presence of the two professionals who purchased the house to her north, one of them recently walked up to me and commented on this woman’s passive-aggressiveness.

Now I hear a woman’s voice from next door saying “Move on” while unbeknownst to those in the studios of KUOW in Seattle, a track of harassment has been added to their broadcast, at least to a broadcast that seems to be relayed by an apparent micro-radio station, probably enabled by CB radio and a linear antenna or maybe by software-defined radio, next door to me. This occurs whenever I power up the radio or television and tune in to a station or channel. The familiar female voice droning in the background of the NPR broadcast is usually a woman from the north mobbing house.

“Bot!” comes the voice of the nobly professioned home owner to my north, the one who recently seems to have broken the fence intended to maintain the property line between our two houses by hammering planks along his side of it. And now there is the voice of a man droning on about all the reasons why they want me to leave my house.

Big picture: This is how they try to weary you, and me, out of our legal homes and into submitting to an organized crime that is legally a racket. Small picture: They seem unhappy with my taking a new roommate upstairs, one who will be showing up with his things in next couple of hours. It’s kind of hard to continuously harass someone inside their homes when others are within earshot. Even with directional speakers, it becomes tricky to follow one person in a small house with others moving about within proximity. This kind of thing gets the mobbers’ panties into a wad.


The near daily street theater of the nasty neighborhood watch and her gang of property mobbers would likely be considered “civil,” but this feature of real estate mobbing hides its true criminal nature and—at least in my own case where I have been actively monitored and harassed in my home and stalked outside of it—a host of felonies that were supposed to scare me out of my home two years back and in no time flat. Based on what I have seen here in northeast Seattle, and on some interesting Internet references eerily similar to what I’ve experienced, I’m sure “property mobbing” is a racket—one disguised as crazy neighbor harassment, gang-stalkers or even rowdy groups of bullying twenty-somethings, a racket known to nasty neighborhood watches whose assaults are not limited to the rights of those they should protect, and a racket well used by real estate developers and speculators of ill repute as a sneaky method of property “acquisition.”

These days, the crooks around me avoid meeting my eyes, probably a common strategy when you’re criminally harassing someone from next door or across the street and they are slowly exposing you as they write the Washington State Attorney’s Office, the Seattle City Prosecutor, Mayor Ed Murray and Seattle Police Department.

Neighborhood watch organizations like mine, here in northeast Seattle where sociopathy has become crime, are why home owners should not join neighborhood organizations of uncertain legitimacy and unknown activities. You never know what you’re being exposed to, legally and otherwise, or what is being hidden from you when the neighborhood is run by self-selected people of ill will and malicious intent.




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