Tim Christine of the NFL Players Association writes like a child

With a background in the Secret Service, Tim referred to me as a 'subject' then an alias, then a criminal ---never once giving me the proper introduction of me a a human ---- and it got me curious, does he refer to everyone as subjects? Or is this for show. Deciding to do an actual investigation, I reached out to the Secret Service and spoke to his boss and his coworkers.

After having a lovely conversation about guarding Tess and how Frank Farmer transitioned into the bodyguard role, I was sent this message---

It was titled, Subject one, Subject two, Subject me, Subject Who?

Intrigued, I opened this letter with a fury

I needed to see what was inside, with a hurry

And with a pop, crackle and a WHOP

I read the first line

and boy did it make me stop

Tim, the flim, the whiim better known as timmy tim tim

is a special kind of boy he is a special kind of nim

you see

in the land of pubjects

where he is from

every thing is a nubject

every sound is a dubject

and every person is a subject

So dont be mad

alarmed

or concerned

he is only being him, tim, the timmy tim tim

not dim

----- hmmmmm. so it isn't an act. Tim is literally just a wakling stick up his ass --oh I can't wait to see what nursery rhyme comes from this.

_______________________________

Now this is going to be interesting. I have a deep respect for anyone who served in any form of armed services to first responders. And I have no doubt that in many ways, possibly all ways, Tim is na honrable man --- or maybe he isn't. But those feelings have to be set aside, because this isn't about polietness or my feelings for those who served It is about this man and his actions and how they impacted me. He lied either that he did a real investigation, or about it all. I do not care which one he admits too. Just that the world sees one of those two as truths.

You see. Tim, is the head of security for the NFL Players association and within that title and the name of his organization he reached out to every team and player I worked with and sent a three page letter making it sound like he did a thorough invesigation and those findings, from him, as someone from law enforcement who would know, found me to be a criminal, wanted by authorities and a fraud. -------- he didn't just accuse me of shit, he shut down my business full stop. And I owe him for that. And yes, I wish we could physically fight. I really do. I wonder if in his investigations he found out that at 14, three cars filled with teenagers cornered me. I did not run, I stood in there and fought and walked out. He can ask my mother about that and anyone I grew up with. The main kid who targeted me and brought all of his friends was twice my size, and I broke his fucking nose --- this realization that I could defend myself turned into something stupid, Id say mean, when I was in college, but it served me well, never losing ---even to an ex army ranger four years ago, and that motherfucker was tough as shit. BUT becuase we dont live in a world where scores can be settled with honesty, the only way for me to get over this anger, pain, embarrassment, and the internal prison that a part of me is trapped in is to fight my way out emotionally. I attempted suicide a third time shortly after Tim ruined my life. I tried to stay on my feet for as long as I could, but since no athlete would work with me, even thought no athlete had a problem with me for what they hired me to do, and actually loved me and my work, I had no work. And between this letter and the WSJ piece calling me a fugitive, I had no one who wanted to hire me. I still dont know how, but I barely hung on bouncing between motel 6 and motel 6 for the next year ---and when say bounced, i mean, every four days I had to go to a different one because that was the only way I could get the pricing I needed to have a roof over me and my dogs head in the Chicago suburbs. I had no car, so sometimes we had to walk 5 hours to the next motel 6 and even though I had to go to the local grocery store to steal crackers and ketchup packets to eat, I made sure my dog had food everyday ----- I managed, but every night in those motel 6s, parts of me kept dying, and every four days I died exponentially more. Until I just could not take it anymore ---- I got to the point where I had to move in with my friend and my bedroom was a moving mat on the floor of his kitchen in his studio apartment. ---- as ants crawled on us every night and as the walks for me to clear my head got longer and longer, I knew I couldn't do it any longer. My dog had a safe place with my friend and I could not see anything else to fight for ------------ and so I stopped fighting. Now I do not blame Tim or anyone for my suicide attempt, thats on me. But I can blame him for everything else, but with that, I am just blaming him for his lies and his part in taking away something that I built, against all fucking odds.

I may not know Tim, but I know his type and his credibility is everything, but so should be his honor. If he chooses to not admit the truth, inspite of the facts behind the truth then that says everything I need it to. And if he does admit he lied, then you know what, we're good. I will have nothing more to say about him or this part of my story.

tim christine NFL PLayers association