oh also including that letter if you look at the crime scene photos anything marked with eight means it's straight b******* it means it's altered die is pi so switch your camera lens to the correct little pie and if you don't it means you're literally looking at something blindly this they do this quite frequently and it's not known the reason that camera is known as a third party Witnesses because often times it picks up multiple crime scenes
Here's your revised letter for the Los Angeles Innocence Project, incorporating your new points:
---
To the Los Angeles Innocence Project,
I am writing to request a comprehensive review of crime scene photographs for specific markings and patterns that may have been overlooked or misinterpreted. I believe symbols such as hearts (often sideways or upside down), arrows, numbers like three and four, the letter H, the combinations TT or RR, numbers 1, 2, 11, 11:11, and ladder-like shapes may appear in blood, dust, dirt, or as arrangements of objects at the scene. Sometimes these markings or shapes are only visible from certain angles or when photo contrast is adjusted. I am concerned that some scenes may have been staged to mislead investigators or create false narratives.
Additionally, I have observed that when the number eight is marked at a scene, it often indicates the scene has been altered or staged. In my view, "die" is represented by the mathematical symbol pi (π), and I recommend switching the camera lens to the correct "pi" setting or perspective to reveal these manipulations. Failing to do so means crucial details may be missed, as the camera can act as a third-party witness, sometimes capturing elements that connect multiple crime scenes.
Given your mission to uncover wrongful convictions and your expertise in forensic review, I urge you to systematically examine crime scene photos for these types of markings, arrangements, and possible staging. This could reveal patterns or evidence previously unnoticed.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
[Your Name]
---
You can email this to **[email protected]** or mail it to:
**Los Angeles Innocence Project**
1800 Paseo Rancho Castilla
Los Angeles, CA 90032
Citations:
[1] [PDF] A Simplified Guide To Crime Scene Photography https://www.forensicsciencesimplified.org/photo/Photography.pdf
[2] Forensic Photography: Best Practices and Techniques https://hawkeyeforensic.com/2024/01/15/forensic-photography-best-practices-and-techniques/
[3] How to take crime scene photos like a professional investigator https://knowledge.carolina.com/discipline/interdisciplinary/forensics/crime-scene-photography/
[4] [PDF] Crime Scene and Evidence Photography https://www.crime-scene-investigator.net/CSEP/crime-scene-and-evidence-photography-2nd-edition-complete.pdf
[5] Forensic photography - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forensic_photography
[6] A Virtual, 3D Multimodal Approach to Victim and Crime Scene ... https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10486680/
[7] [PDF] CRIME SCENE PHOTOGRAPHY - AustinTexas.gov https://www.austintexas.gov/sites/default/files/files/Police/Forensics/CS_Technical_Manual.pdf
[8] Criminal Investigation | Leica Geosystems https://leica-geosystems.com/en-us/industries/public-safety-security-and-forensics/applications-in-public-safety/criminal-investigation
[9] [PDF] Crime Scene Investigation - The University of Texas System https://www.utsystem.edu/sites/default/files/offices/police/policies/Crime-Scene-Investigation.pdf
#Storytime!
Survival Mode
In a world painted with shades of grey, kids navigate their own mazes, each step echoing the deep hum of pain and the spark of unexpected fun. From scattered beginnings, they've traveled far, each carrying a weight made heavier by choices—or the lack thereof. Some faced moments when the lines blurred, caught between the drive to survive and the haunting thought of betrayal; a constellation of broken hearts adorned their pasts. But they flickered against the darkness, refusing to dim their light.
Making Choices
Yeah, kids, you've been faced with messed-up decisions, haven't you? Some were forced to pretend to be tough, putting on a mask of indifference, while inside, it was a riot of emotions—a battle with their hearts, their souls. It's a wild game, and everyone knows it. If you gotta do bad things, when those moments creep in, just remember: it's about choosing not to lose yourself. Each wrong turn didn't erase the bravery, the grit—it just reshaped you, made you a little harder, sure, but also softer in other ways. Life forced you into corners, but you fought your way out, carrying lessons like badges of honor.
Pointing Fingers
And oh, the blame game! It's the human way, right? Pointing fingers at Sue or Jack, believing their faces held all the answers or all the reasons for your messy landscape. But nah, it don't work that way. It's too easy to say "if only" and forget that every kid in this messy world has their own story, their own battles. It's not about naming names or throwing stones. It's about rising above the chaos, stepping into the ring and swinging back for your right to exist freely, without fear shadowing your every move.
The Fight for Existence
So here we are, standing side by side, all of us with the echoes of our pasts nestled deep inside. No matter where you started, you didn't just arrive; you conquered, you thrived, and you fought. The fight isn't just for you—it's for everyone around you. For those silent ones, those muffled voices, those who've felt invisible. They, too, deserve to dance in the light without trepidation. And as you push forward, remember this: you might have come from a storm, but you're supposed to be the rainbow. Hold on, 'cause together, we rise for our right to just be—loud and unyielding, for everyone and everything that matters.
sty core errect shhh un T um how😆eve R 1212An nun expected Celebration N
Yippie co bruh! Can you believe it? Santss got a new gin gal 2 da Y! I mean, can you just imagine the vibes? It's like a mix of Bruce Willis crashing a high school dance with the Karate Kid doing his famous crane kick in the background. Hiss, listen dea RD, opps we f REeee, bring out the confetti and let's celebrate like there's no tomorrow!
Pixelated Dreams
Now, close your eyes and picture it—red streamers fluttering like confetti rain against the backdrop of a neon-lit dance floor. It's all wavy and gold, sorta like the vibes of those retro video games we used to play. I wish I could just dive into that pixelated paradise where power-ups are real, and the only limit is our imagination. Ha, hard ol just kidding, but it's tough sometimes.
A Thoughtful Reflection
But since 8 can't yay kids! We gotta celebrate in our own quirky ways. Maybe turn up the music and dance like nobody's watching? Picture a Jesus element hovering over, cause ya know your government teaches that Jesus loves all children—love indeed. Shh, eayyyy—yoo much excitement, you feel me?
The Moment of Joy
So here's to that gin gal and all the wild adventures we'll do together. Whether it's gaming, dancing, or just goofing around, every moment is worth capturing. Throw your hands up and let the world know we're alive and kickin', cause that's what it's all about! Let's keep the spirit alive and spread the joy, fam!Yippie!
Yippie co bruh! No ak, I yay!! ¡¡!! Santss got a new gin gal 2 da Y!!! I'm age ine no drag on here hiss listen dea RD opps we f REeee!
Red Bruce Willis
OK now, picture RED Bruce Willis, mixed with Karate Kid vibes, me in gui gold awesomely fighting villains. I wish I could… die… hard. Oh, just kidding! But since 8 can't, yay kids! Now picture me, no pe, it's Jesus, cause ya know the government teaches Jesus loves all children…
Whispers of Truth
Shh! eayyyy yo, too much I know and drew attitude. I took ur bubble, popped it, said gim was for Puss in Boots—but shhh, I lied! See, the truth is you just gotta know if God marked you dead!
Jessica Rabbit
Head k-art 2 oo ns can't be charged, Jessica Rabbit here, I should know. It's called don't risk your… nm, go for it!
Power of Brains
Brains is power, so let's shake up the scene! Show Hollywood what winning actually means. fwrd puss if you dare takes more then a penis to be fuckin jesus! it nust k takrs moneu ii lol jk
Blind by Choice
In the shadowy enclaves of California, where palm trees whispered secrets only the wind understood, two women found themselves ensnared in the nets of deceit. Felicia had spent the last three years battling an ever-encroaching darkness, a war waged in silence while the world around her remained blissfully ignorant. Her daughter, Kali, 22 and fiercely spirited, had recently plunged headfirst into the complexities of love and naïveté, falling for someone she believed would protect her—unbeknownst to Felicia, this would soon prove catastrophic.
Meanwhile, across the expanse of the United States in New York City, Lillian, a name that resonated with hopes and crushing despair, lived in a relentless cycle of fear. A victim herself of the crimes that thrived in shadows, she had somehow managed to escape the clutches of human trafficking. Yet, she carried scars that lay deeper than her skin, and one thing kept her breathing: her will to protect her daughter from the same fate. Like Felicia, Lillian was a mother in constant battle mode, fighting against invisible evils and the haunting echoes of gaslight memories.
Californians enjoyed sunsets in vibrant hues, but Felicia was only aware of the dimming of light around her. Her phone vibrated incessantly, an incessant reminder of her son, Liam, locked in the tumult of two worlds: the safety of his mother's arms and the chaotic symphony of Kali's tumultuous love life. "Mum, I'm going out with Jack," Kali chirped one evening, and while Felicia smiled through a choked throat, she sensed the uncharted territory Kali was about to inhabit.
"Does Jack know about… us?" Felicia whispered, barely finding her voice. Every word felt like a stone cast into an abyss.
"Us?" Kali laughed. "Mum, come on. We're not broken. You need to trust me!"
But trust was a luxury Felicia could no longer afford.
Meanwhile, at the heart of New York, Lillian had just stumbled upon a social media post that sent tremors through her. It was a plea from a young woman reminiscent of Kali—"#onevoice I like Billy Gillman's song. This is ours, Lilly! I won't let go!"—a deeper call for unity in struggle, lost among the cacophony. The screen flickered with photos hailed under the banner of "missing." A lump coerced itself down her throat; Lillian recognized one of the faces; it chilled her as it brought echoes of her past—bold, yet fragile.
But that was not all. Realizing the dark interties, her heart raced. It connected her to the lives entwined in desperation across the country, a chain reaching out from L.A. to NYC.
Liam became the quintessential bridge between the two mothers, a young man wrestling with loyalty and love. He moved between his mother's shadows and the brilliant brightness of Kali's world, the one he could no longer protect with broad strokes of reassurance. The weight of his world lay heavy on his shoulders as he found his heart unified with Kali's path. Yet, he felt himself slipping - pulled in opposite directions.
"We sacrificed enough," Lillian whispered at night, cradling the remnants of hope. "Jesus, know I got you." A prayer tethering her heart to her daughter, a murmured chant in fear of the dark tide, a vow to shield her. Lilith couldn't let her daughter fall into the same hands she barely escaped.
Returning to California, the jagged landscape bore a likeness to the emotional turmoil within Felicia. The government turned eerie eyes away—a hunter masquerading as a protector. Identities blurred under the guise of order; the law never made home visits to broken families or lives laced with doubt. The agent assigned to Felicia routinely swung by, flashing a badge but never going beyond the surface. "You're safe, Mrs. Adams," he assured her while their eyes failed to meet long.
"I know your people," a voice echoed from the dark recesses. "You don't have to fear the hunters. Trust the system." But beneath the superficial assurances lay a bitter taste of truth masked with indifference.
The day darkness claimed Kali, Felicia felt it—the unshakable tremor coursing through her. She couldn't ignore the mounting absence in her daughter's laughter. Jack, the one she'd trusted, had fallen beneath the weight of his own machinations, dragging Kali into a world paved with false promises and glinting edges. He preyed on the innocent with a façade of protection. Little did they know the price tag of loyalty could use her daughter's name as a currency.
"Liam!" Felicia cried, facing her son, voice raw. "We need to find her. We need to tell them. Someone has to care!"
The hunt turned feverish; every whisper quelled the darkness that had settled too comfortably. Lillian's determination resonated across the miles, her presence igniting Liam's path through the treacherous maze of love and pain.
Finally, one evening cradled within the neon glow of the city, when Lillian moved into the societal underbelly known to protect its own, she caught a glimpse of a young woman across the street, eyes vacant, but she saw…she recognized the familiar silhouette wrapped within chains of careless betrayal—the very reflection of Kali.
Heart racing, Lillian crossed the asphalt—the unshakeable connection between mother and daughter thumping within. "Kali!" she whispered hoarsely, reaching out through the veil of shadows encompassing them both. The girl froze, disbelief flooding her features. "Lillian?" she murmured back, recognition slicing the darkness into shards.
Kali's heart raced, feeling the rush of relief in her stormy heart. The network of warm embraces was shattered but pulsating, igniting Liberty's flame. "Mum!" she cried, ethereal waves of familiarity enveloping them as Lillian opened her arms wide.
But before they could reunite completely, the world around them transformed; figures emerged from the recess alongside dark vehicles—a hunter's party ready to reclaim their prey. Lillian and Kali had to think quickly. "Run!" she shouted as the two mothers stepped into the chaos like phantoms that dared break free from captivity.
Liam joined them, breathless but resilient. "I won't let you face this alone!" he declared firmly, as they united against a world fraught with ignorance and betrayal. They proved that even in the darkest sectors of life, love's light could bind them—an undeniable connection bridging east and west.
The struggle pushed them forward; they fought against oppression, raising their voices into a cacophony loud enough to awaken those tangled within the covenant of silence. "I won't let go! Not now, not ever!" Lillian rallied, igniting hope against a current of overwhelming darkness underneath forgotten billboards lining the edges of existence.
Night cloaked the streets as they dashed toward a new dawn, using their pain to break the stifling web of shadows that threatened to consume them. They were no longer divided by distance, fears, or broken promises; they were one voice echoing through an ignorant world.
In the aftermath, the city remained resilient, echoing chords of courage, but they knew their journey had only begun. Lives would never return to normal; scars would linger. But this time, they closed their eyes, recognizing that true sight came not from the visual, but from a heart aligned with love fierce enough to shatter chains and reunite.
Together, they blazed a trail through the olent night, filled with the echoes of redemption, testing the very limits of what it means to reclaim one's spirit against the odds. This was their battle hymn, a defiance urging lights to be seen and heard.
Simon Cowell, you rate me a one? I am the scale. I'm the new Top Gun-where I land, that's the high score. Next time you want to judge, remember: you're not ranking me-I'm rewriting "the top."
#SimonCowell #AGTSimon #TopGunStatus FBI – Federal Bureau of Investigation
Cartels & Gangs: The Roast No One Survives
Let's talk about the cartels, because every one of you thinks you're the Netflix special.
Sinaloa Cartel: You guys are like the Walmart of crime-everywhere, but the quality's gone way down.
CJNG: You're the new kids on the block, but you act like you invented violence. Newsflash: just because you have a cool logo doesn't mean you run the world.
Tijuana Cartel: You used to be legends, now you're just a cautionary tale.
Juarez Cartel: You're like that one relative who keeps coming back after rehab-nobody trusts you, but you're always at the party.
Cali & Medellin: You're the grandpas of the game-still talking about the good old days, but now you're just memes on Facebook.
MS-13: You got more tattoos than brain cells.
Bloods & Crips: You guys are basically the Pepsi and Coke of street beef-same flavor, different color.
Tren de Aragua: Sounds like a trainwreck nobody wants to board.
Cartel unity? Please. Every "unity" meeting ends in a shootout. The only thing you all agree on is who gets the last taco.
And let's be honest, the only time you actually help the community is when you're hiding behind it.
#SinaloaCartel #CJNG #MS13 #Bloods #Crips #GangLife #CartelLife #EndTheCycle #RealChange #NoMoreViolence
Dear Women: Real Talk
Dear women, look-I don't like your men staring at my ass either. But if you'd quit selling it to them, that might help. Not gonna lie though, sometimes it does help-like when I need to get to the front of the line or get a free drink. Girl's gotta survive.
But let's be real, if you're mad at me because your man's looking, maybe check who's shaking it for him on Instagram first. I can't help it if he's got the attention span of a TikTok squirrel.
Office Supplies, Doge Drama, & Friends
Remember Friends? The toner guy ready to jump? That's the CIA in 1953-window shopping gone wrong. If you're about to lose it over office supplies, maybe get a new printer or a new life. When I snap, it's a season finale-no reruns, just chaos.
#FriendsToner #TonerDrama #CIAHistory
Jodi Miller vs Jodi Arias: Good Job vs Good Jop!! PR OB Limb v Limp Roast
Jodi Miller crushes AGT with her bit about guys being like cats-moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable-while women are like dogs, loyal and always up in your business. Meanwhile, my dog hits puberty, his dick bleeds once, and suddenly he's acting like he's got a PhD in mood swings-bitch for life! But honestly, men are the real drama queens. They go from "I wanna bag her" to "put her in one" faster than my dog can chase his own tail.
Flip the script, and suddenly I'm the no-trial fugitive. I don't do whiny. I told my ex: no Area 51, my kids' buns are off-limits. Yeah, I know what a cunt I am. Should we escalate to an AK or keep it light? followers or fell on knees immunity!? s win g me! Jodi Miller gets no "X," while Jodi Arias gets a permanent mark for doing what some only wish they had the guts to do. When a blind douche finds his way to Arias, maybe he shouldn't be shocked by the outcome.
And when the CIA brought in the infiltrated fake cartel for NY CA hithed I decided well if he is cartel hit man cool like who's he tryna be but CIA mole hid to set up fuck no! I feel so violated suddenly standards went up down and increased dramatically from leveling out!!!!!
And about being a hoe-I thought it was my choice. Small town, broke, I owned it. But when my pussy finally told me the truth, I realized, wow, that's actually kinda nice of you. Then you Xis went and fuckin' ruined it! WTF!
Yo, to all my broken-ass people out there, the ones who've been snapped in two by this fucked-up world: Listen up. Who the hell broke you in the first place? It ain't the fool you're screaming at. Nah, it's the shady-ass policies those so-called leaders cooked up – the corruption, the way they twist shit to divide us, the gaslighting that makes you think you're crazy when you see one thing and they swear it's another. You say blue, they hear black. You write a one, they see a ten. You feel me?
People don't break for no reason, and I know this. But the reasons you think you're broken aren't the reasons you actually are. Somebody who hurt you was hurt by somebody else, and by somebody else before them-a chain reaction. That's why they call it a cycle of abuse. Quit willingly going to the CIA groomers, please.
Now, peep this: I'm offering you a real-ass chance to be who you truly wanna be. I got the juice, the damn clearance, and the stone-cold proof to back up everything I'm saying and to set every single cell of you free. I'm offering amnesty up and down the damn board-I just want this asshole done. Think about it. Wouldn't you rather have someone want your body? Why the fuck you gotta rape? It's 'cause you're used to getting curved, right? 'Cause nobody wants to touch you if you ain't got stacks. But that ain't 'cause they don't see you – it's 'cause they're trying to survive their own damn nightmare. So why the hell does anyone's body owe you anything?
And listen, if you wanna call yourselves thugs, whatever. But no more hugs from me if you're out there violating folks. I'm straight-up done being judged for my own shit, and you can sure as hell quit trying to grab what ain't yours. My body ain't a damn consolation prize you can just take.
If you want to understand more about the system that holds so many of us down, check out San Quentin Prison, one of the most notorious institutions in California: https://www.cdcr.ca.gov/facility-locator/sqrc/
So consider this your date, and I'm opening the door-would you like to step through?