Wally Smith Killed His Mom

CJ Smith

Wally Smith, now called CJ the last I heard, on YouTube, killed his Mom. He then covered it up by inheriting her paid off house in the now expensive inner city area of Sunnyside in Calgary, followed by sticking it up his nose, after he had sold the scene of the crime.

This was followed by covering up the ‘murder by medical neglect’ with a shame guilt conversion to Christianity where he decided to save me while I was vulnerable, he thought, living in the hospital recovering from a stroke.

He got my phone number from another malicious narcissist Tom Tschritter who also neglected the important people in his life. Tom was my original tech support that I rarely used as he wasn’t very good at it and covered it up by putting me down saying it was my fault.

Wally came to visit me once during my 6 month stay in hospital and since I asked him to bring me a burger and listen to my story, he never came back. 20 bucks for the food and the same for parking. None of which was about him. It was good narcissist repellent.

I met him originally during high school at Busters pool hall across the street from the Western Canada High. I was 14, the 4th child abandoned by my narcissist/borderline/emotionally abusive single Mom. I was living on welfare in a room and board where they didn’t feed me much and never on Sunday. He took me home one day where I approached his single Mom to room and board me. I still didn’t get regular meals but there were guitars to play and dope to smoke and a singer in the house band, Beth, before she died at 18 of brain cancer, to take my virginity.

Lillian Smith was batshit but she had a regular job for the government, typing. So she was able to pay for her house and raise her kid. Her husband ‘Smith’ as he was referred to, was long gone.

Lil had the gift of second sight, believed in homeopathy and was a member of the inventors club (she was ‘working on time’ she said) where she would bring home male members to fuck. As a painter she worked on 2 paintings her entire life. Her other accomplishments was as a master hoarder, filling the entire basement with boxed magazines, among which we smoked, seduced girls and played guitar.

Fast forward 20 years, I was long gone, out of touch, and Lil needed an operation, something needed to be removed, or she would die. She didn’t trust the doctor and her son stood to gain by her death so the short story is she died at home. Wally and his cohort Doug, smelling a score, moved in a hospital bed to the living room and obliged her by watching her die.

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Jerald W. Blackstock First Person Reflections
Jerald W. Blackstock First Person Reflections

Written by Jerald W. Blackstock First Person Reflections

Fine Artist Still and Time Based Fine Art and Social Satire by any means possible. Buy me a Coffee 😁 https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/JeraldBlackstock

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