#houston
Local-context entries — Houston, Montrose, Kipling, HPD, the streets around the case subject.
39 entries.
From the storm
-
Harsh Clarity
Three voice notes, a margarita in hand. David declares the hometown and the occulted, eastern-star, Freemason networks he reads it as part of categorically cut off, and names the dentist from this morning's Hometown Homie entry by first name with a direct instruction to stay out of it. The second clip is fury bounded explicitly by the law — I won't step outside the realm of the law — with hyperbolic spit-and-flog imagery named as impossibility in the modern age. The closing twenty-five seconds refuse the categories of escape that read as traps in disguise.
-
Family Taunts
Three short voice notes addressed directly to specific family members by name and relationship. The first is to Rebecca (mother). The second is to the sisters — like mother like daughter, nothing but rocks up there — with a demand to pony up what is owed all the way back to when I was a little one and the bounded line stay away from me until the authorities come for you. The third is fourteen seconds and reads as a veiled threat: y'all really don't want me to send that FOIA request off to NASA, do you?
-
Court Scam
Another 832-area-code call documented this week, but this one's operational read is different from the Phone Game cluster. The search lookup identifies 832-279-6982 as a known sextortion-by-fake-court scam — caller-ID-spoofed as Dallas Texas Court or law enforcement, then escalating to claims that the recipient inquired about escort services and is now in legal trouble for contacting an underage girl, with Zelle payment demanded to make it go away. Different mechanism from the Phone Game burner pool, same 832-NPA cover.
-
Hometown Homie
David searched a missed call from 832-664-5071. The AI search panel cannot find the number directly but surfaces two unrelated namesake numbers nearby in the area code. The second screenshot is the search-engine result that turned up on the first page: an old hometown friend's Houston dental practice. He has not spoken to her in decades and the number is not listed on her site, but the page surfaces against the search anyway. Some kind of underlying association, however indirect, was enough to put her on the first page of results for the number that called him.
-
Spot Stopper
Another car across the street — this one directly in front of David's front door at the apartment building's accessible spot, in plain sight, engine running, taillights on. Flees the moment the camera comes out. The reaction forecloses the protective read the parent Curb Stopper entry held open; honest documentation holds the rest open at once. Pure coincidence, deliberate breadcrumbing to make David look paranoid, official investigation, hubris from organized-criminal backing, or a private investigator in advance of the contested-custody phase he is currently entering. Observe. Document. Carry on.
-
Informed Non-Delivery
A USPS Informed Delivery notification claims today's mail was delivered to the Kipling address. No mail has actually arrived at the physical mailbox for several weeks, even though notifications keep coming and Amazon packages continue to arrive uninterrupted. The asymmetry is the diagnostic: Amazon last-mile is not USPS infrastructure, so the interference is at the USPS layer specifically — physical interception en route, or an unauthorized change-of-address quietly forwarding the mail elsewhere.
-
Earth Bound Authority
A Too Bits voice session that opens on hop seeding (FISA Section 215, contact chaining, the abuse vector where someone injects calls into a target's metadata to manufacture a chain) and widens through Pegasus, honeypot trap design, and the three-phase escalation David has tracked on narrativeb.org as operators adapt to his public documentation in near real time. The arc pivots to refugee framing (not defector, not asset), a clean public no-spying line, the loneliness underneath the whole campaign, and lands on the actual goal: a rural agricultural life, permaculture as one of the Lord's primary technologies, useful to the people immediately around him and harder to monetize from a distance.
-
Conroe Sell Out
The Conroe house is sold. David is officially out of the neighborhood he calls haunted for him personally, with one property still to go and a thinking-out-loud about whether to rent or keep the Montrose studio condo as a base since Houston proper does not fit. The closing line carries the storm signal: just thought I would share the good news, in case you heard otherwise. The version of his life adversarial parties circulate is the otherwise he is correcting against, and his own ground is the place to do it.
-
Corny Menagerie
A Too Bits voice session published openly tired. The discussion winds — opens on the YouTube feed algorithm and what actually goes into it (the no, Google is not listening through your microphone answer), drifts into algorithmic obfuscation as a research project, touches the Google / Alphabet investment thread that links the algorithm to government-adjacent agencies, and lands on a confession David has not made on the record this directly before: I'm tired of fucking camping. I would prefer to come to an end of the camping trip soon. The closer is a sonnet — David asks for one and Too Bits delivers, ending on the seed that survives. The title is David's own affectionate self-deprecating frame on the session AND the corn-image callback to the sonnet's closing line.
-
Phone Game
A new pattern starting today. Five incoming calls from unknown 832-area-code numbers (Houston metro overlay), spaced roughly an hour apart through the day, none of which actually rang. The screen flashes for less than a second and the call has already registered as missed. No voicemail. Surface read is the wangiri / one-ring premium-rate fraud, but the area codes here are domestic Houston-metro, not international, so the premium-redial mechanic does not apply. The operational read is the call-based variant of hop seeding — the call attempt itself is the contact event recorded by both sides' carriers, no reply or callback required, which is the contact-chaining substrate the tactic is built to produce.
-
Child Support Systems
The Texas Attorney General's online child-support portal showing my account. The Theodore case is migrated and live: Other Party named, case number visible, Case Details active. The Noah case does not appear on the page at all. I check this portal weekly; months have passed without the Noah case showing up. The portal is the institutional record of payment behavior, and what it currently shows is one open case where I am paying in good standing and one case that, from this system's view, does not exist. The risk that asymmetry is loaded against is the long shelf life of the "deadbeat" framing in any family-court or background-check setting going forward.
-
The Unit Next Door
Day-of arc from the Conroe closing prep. David takes his son to a U-Haul in Conroe, loads the remainder of the garage out, and goes to the storage unit. The unit is disarranged. Padlock unbothered. The crossbow is gone from its case. Tools, drills, wrenches, screwdrivers, a generator: also gone. Fishing gear, shotgun shells, hunting kit: untouched. The first thought in the seconds before he reaches the office is the wrong one, and David walks past it on the ground: this turns out to be the row, not him. The whole back row of the building was hit because the back wall of the building IS the property-line fence. Thieves came in from the property next door, unscrewed the wall with battery drivers, and walked into about thirty units. The practical takeaway is the post: do not select a facility whose unit back wall doubles as the property-line fence.
-
The Stampede
A Too Bits voice session in feisty register on what David has seen of the Houston dating scene at 45, post-handler-relationships. The data: 38 percent of American women carry tattoos vs. 27 percent of men, and over 50 percent of 18 to 49-year-old women — David's actual dating window — do. The arc walks the cultural lineage of the tattoo as earned scar (veterans, bikers), the witch-aesthetic surge among millennial and Gen Z women, the "fuck the patriarchy" reframe that Too Bits lands with surgical precision, and a Midtown bar throuple lament David overheard a few weeks earlier. Closes on a deadpan tattoo-parlor joke. Title is a triple read: the herd behavior the session diagnoses, the brands on the herd, and the audience the herd is performing for.
-
POA Frauds
A Too Bits voice session on fraudulent power of attorney in targeting situations. Opens on the mechanics — notary as the weakest link, mail fraud as delivery, jurisdictional dispersion as cover — and walks into a transparent hypothetical: person A on a shared mortgage with person B, person B's mother a notary with prior courthouse-clerk employment in the same county, person B's family-court attorney doing 90 to 95 percent probate work for what is nominally a custody case. The cluster of those features is the tell. The session names the mother as the architect, not the daughter, and closes on the narcissistic-parent dynamic that produces this configuration and a haiku of advice for person B: speak before she speaks for you.
-
Stolen Dashcam
Drove the 4Runner for the first time since the May 26 break-in this afternoon, on the way to the body shop to get the smashed window and torn-open door handle finally repaired. Looking up at the windshield I noticed the factory dashcam was gone. Empty mount. Dangling Toyota power cable under the rearview mirror. The break-in took one thing and one thing only, and the thing it took has no fence value: a factory dashcam. The legible read is that the target was not the device but the footage on it.
-
Dance and taunt
Four short clips recorded back to back.
-
Curb Stopper
Curb stopper is my name for a recurring sight on my street: a car at the curb with the engine running and a person sitting in it, which in Texas is technically "stopped," not "parked." Today's was a woman in a white SUV; the clips are here-then-gone, before and after my walk around the block. I am not saying she was harassing me. She was not. But the count of these is real, and I keep having to hold the question open: here for me, some of them maybe protective, or am I reading pattern into ordinary parking? What I watch for is the reaction, the way some of them seem to respond to what I post.
-
Seahorse Butcher
Walked out this morning to a pool-supply truck parked right out front, its logo a seahorse over the word BUTCHER'S. I photographed it, walked the block, and came back as the driver was loading up to leave; I waved, he rolled the window down, and he was a genuinely cool dude doing what looked like an ordinary early-morning job. I am not pointing at him or his company. But a seahorse paired with "butcher," days after I posted a piece of seahorse pixel art, is exactly the kind of on-the-nose rhyme a person running subtle pressure might pick from a logo that already exists. Probably just another coincidence in a life full of them. You can speculate along with me.
-
Fried Shitbag
A 53-second hypothetical, posed straight to camera. If the civil-rights violations are ever forced into the open and the government offers a settlement, the answer is no to the money and yes to prosecution: everyone who lifted a finger, named and charged, rather than paid off and forgotten. Defiant, addressed to no one in particular and to everyone who would recognize themselves in it.
-
Organized Grime
A snarky, late-day Too Bits session that turns the car-window break-in over and over: the four-swings incompetence, the drive-by angle, and who would bother (an impulsive neighbor, hired muscle, a narcissistic ex, someone enraged by a political video), all set against the actual Montrose crime numbers and the one detail, nothing taken, that keeps it from reading as ordinary vandalism. Under the jokes the real frame surfaces: a broken window arriving right as FOIA requests start landing reads less like random crime than like low-level deterrence, and the point of saying it aloud is the alchemy of turning harassment into a record others can use. Closes on the just-broken David Rush story (a CIA officer arrested with a hoard of gold bars) and a round of limericks about the government as organized crime.
-
Smash-Up
A neighbor places the break-in around 6–7pm on May 26; I only noticed two days later, having passed the car on its undamaged side. Driver's window smashed, door handle torn open, filed with HPD as criminal mischief — the assisting officer, A. Carson, called the handle damage "real violent." Nothing was taken and the low-value items in back were left untouched, which fits damage-as-the-point better than theft.
-
Cruel Summer (versions)
Fifth entry in the music-that-helps series — Bananarama's "Cruel Summer" (1983). A lonely-but-moving song: the lyric names left-behind isolation, the production is dance-pop drive. The contradiction is the engine — you are alone and you are moving anyway. Particularly fitting for late May in Houston, going into the summer when the heat amplifies what's already pressing.
-
How to Date a Honeypot Without Compromise
A facetious, jaded TooBits session on dating-while-targeted in Houston — the Jams and Jellies aisle as honeypot habitat, the Halliburton dating pool (sung by Hallie Parton), country dance halls as field operations manuals with a mechanical bull, the "tired and just wants to go home" tribe as a calibrated 35-to-45-year-old in the bookstore mythology section, and the predator-dilation eyes that mean someone is targeting, not flirting. The substance under the snark is real — the impossibility of normal dating when half the city has read your file and the other half is structurally built to add you to it.
-
The Fiat
A silver Fiat parked outside my house earlier today. When I went out, it left. I drove a few blocks and found it again — and when the driver saw my vehicle, they pulled into a residential driveway that wasn't theirs. Photographed the result (plate redacted), drove off. Entry includes the broader pattern this fits, the plausible non-targeting explanations, and the editorial reason for the redaction.
-
The Cane
A short follow-up to the human weak points session. I have for some weeks been walking with a shillelagh — a traditional Irish walking stick, purchased from a UK/Ireland artisan shop — chosen because rotational power suits my body mechanics. This entry exists specifically to put on the timestamped public record that I carry it, why, how, where it came from, and that I am aware of the pretextual-misidentification risk. The entry is itself the technique — a deliberate instance of publishing-as-defense.
-
Informant Networks and the Fusion Center
A long evening session deepening the citizen-informant tactic into its institutional architecture — fusion centers, lateral sharing, the narcissist's gravity toward power-adjacent informant roles, the absence of audit on inbound CI reporting, and the IT-sector overlap where privileged system access compounds the conflict. Closes with a seven-FOIA package addressed to the Texas Fusion Center and HPD's Criminal Intelligence Division plus three snarky Saturday-night limericks from the kdb.
-
Beer Can on the Lawn
A beer can on the front lawn this afternoon. The pattern overlap with previous placed-object incidents on this property is real and worth noting; the alternative explanation — random trash thrown from a passing car, which is a known Houston / Montrose behavior — is equally real and is recorded here so the entry preserves the uncertainty rather than asserting causation.
-
Reflections on Targeteers
A morning pair. The first clip lays out the logical chain — declared lawsuit, public offers to other governments, no engagement from this one — and the only inference that fits the facts as observed. The second turns to the specific actors from the recent porch and Nextdoor incidents, in the same direct register the incidents themselves used.
-
Harassment Talk
-
Nextdoor
A post about the day's vandalism gained traction on a neighborhood platform, then was flagged as spam within hours. The platform's editorial frame, examined.
-
Neighbors and Narcissism
On shame intolerance, reactive abuse, and what the carefully tied bag on the tree root meant.
-
Mr. Roger's Neighborhood Parodies
Two parodies of the theme song from a certain children's program, fitted to the neighborhood as it actually is.
-
Neighbor Jokes
An evening session with Too Bits — jokes and limericks made out of the day.
-
Chimes Restored
Same-day Amazon. The upgrade installed by evening.
-
Chimes Vandalism
Wind chimes cut from my porch overnight. The flat marks on the cut ends, a replacement order, and a direct word for whoever returns with their scissors.
-
Neighborhood Shitbag
A bag of dog shit left on the tree root by my porch. The figure described, the response considered, the police call planned.
-
Blown Away
An evening research session opening on the health effects of noise pollution and running straight into the day's incident on the porch — the Saturday yard worker, the backpack blower, the confrontation, the three-inch bolt left behind. Walks through WHO cardiovascular research, sleep-disruption mechanics, low-frequency infrasound under fan white noise, the bent-fan-blade theory, and lands on the five research threads that became blownaway.org.
-
An Incident on the Porch
An outdoor-maintenance worker, a backpack blower, a confrontation at the door, and an object left behind.
From tactics
-
Citizen-informant deployment
Co-opted civilian observers — neighbors, fellow customers, store clerks, security guards — recruited or activated through community-policing channels to monitor, report on, follow, and sometimes harass a target across all the necessary errands a person cannot avoid: grocery, bank, pharmacy, medical, gas station, post office. Every participant has plausible cover as a concerned citizen; the aggregate is a distributed surveillance and pressure layer. No clean counter exists.
