Meet One of the Godfather’s Puppets in Brussels

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Peep ! My name is Colette.  I am 34 years.   I am from Cameroon and I came to Belgium to become an air hostess.  I am trying this, now after I got bore doing “massage”, if you know what I mean.  I am dreaming of earning big bucks with “massage” on airplanes from Dubai, Doha and Manama.  If I can do this during five or ten years, and I will never have to work a day in my life.

I have only one problem.  I don’t know how to write a CV and motivation letter, because I didn’t study much.  I also don’t know how to find the airlines and who to contact at the airlines.

One of my lovers to whom I give the massage and who I think is a very old Belgian man, told me about some Moroccan girl in Antwerp who knows how to coach young immigrants to find a job.   He said that maybe for five or ten worthless Euro , she will “do it”.   He also said that she is a very poor peasant, but that she has some big plans with the airlines that he wants to know more about and he asked me if I could hear her out.

He knows her well without him ever really meeting her.  He listens to her phone conversations and he is used to hacking her websites and e-mails since decades, without her ever noticing it.  He said to me that she will still not notice anything if I make her believe that I love her and that I am her friend. He indicated to me where she usually goes to and to just bump into her and ask her for help.  Like any Moroccan, she goes out of her way to help, because her religion said that she must do that.  So, he sent me there to become his ears and his eyes for him.

He is incredibly rich, but he never pays me for the massage I do to him in any position that he likes.  So I keep doing better and better with him until he pays me.  He promised that he will help me get the job that I want to do, despite that at age 34 the chances for being a stewardess are getting slim and despite that I am not a tall woman.  He has influential contacts everywhere in the world, only he couldn’t help me write the CV and motivation letter.  The poor Moroccan peasant can do that better.

As I heard that she has no address, I invited her to come to Brussels.  I was hoping that she would stay and share the appartment with me.   She has no income, but I was going to show her how to do massage just like me and help me pay the rent and all the charges very quickly, in this way.

Unfortunately she left too soon and unexpectedly, because she felt that I was abusing her.  She sent me a very upsetting email asking for money to go home and threatening to go to the police if I don’t.  I have been putting up with her a full month, letting her sleep in my place  and in the end she wants to sue me with the police.  What an ungrateful tart!

I had a go at her and here is the full story with everything I told her.

And here is her story about me she is telling to everyone.  

She anyhow went to police.  I knew it.  She wrote to the Belgian King and Queen and to the Belgian Secretary of State for Migration, asking him my deportation.   And then she wonders why everyone is calling her bitch.

Now I don’t know what to do, because anything I do will cause trouble for my old and very rich Belgian lover and for me.  To begin with, my husband and some other lovers will find out, and my old and very rich Belgian lover has a boss who will also find out. What must I do, where can I go, all the more that the sucker never paid me a dime ?

Maybe I better go to police and start talking the truth about my old and very rich Belgian lover, and help the Moroccan peasant get on with her life.

He is the Godfather of Falconplein in Antwerp and I guess I am just one of his puppets.

Bye

Colette.

 

 

 

 

 

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