Sunday, February 19, 2012

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0339

SAFE JOURNAL,CHAPTER 0339

1:58 PM-EST, SATURDAY SIEGE, SOSO-WEIN

19 FEBRUARY, 2012

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION,

FOLLOWING CASSETTE VERSIONS 1,2, AND 3 FROM

1988 AND 1989, ALL © MORIANITY AND MOUNTAINPEN

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

© 2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR

ALL WORDS ON MY BLOGS ARE SWORN TRUTHS,

ON THIS TAKEN BY ME, VOLUNTARY OATH OF HONOR.

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

YOU'LL BE SORRY BEFORE ALL IS SAID

AND DONE OTAMM-SCUM”



BEGIN ILLUSION:



Yes, every time I go out now, all year long for the most part now it seems folks, it is Chemtrail City, Florida, here in and around the lovely Fort Pierce, cooking in a clouded sun mix here in paradise at about 85 degrees Fahrenheit.



MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, YO. WIPE AND AND DESTROY THESE VICIOUS FUCKING SCUM BAG TERRORISTS, AND STOP!!!!!!!!



Still, it really began shy of Christmas, blowing away my long awaited plan to record the same nice Christmas music that played in the ten year up in fucking Vero beach, Florida, and was all changed around, and I got screwed out of it all this year, just when I finally had a nice cassette deck all hooked up to the radio. Reception, even up on the sixth floor totally blows, one of many capitalist pig tricks of late 20th century and into this one, jamming out the good old FM stations and clogging the area with cell shit and military shit, making those old fashion types like me, get crappier and crappier fucking reception, unless we are willing to part with even more of the 'no money anyway', that is allowed us poor fucking peeps, who are being kept down without relent and totally mother fucking endlessly impoverished, via controlled secret methods, and done by major players in WOMO, and powerful government conspirator forces that most definitely have lists of who is totally NOT IN ANY WAY EVER ALLOWED TO MAKE IT OR EVEN SURVIVE JUST ABOUT, and then they covertly go on to quietly make us all vanish and disappear; through their murderous body count of black-ops covert terrors, and these same folks call 'US' the terrorists for just screaming out a little bit for help, and my real true point here today is that my enemies are back in full mother fucking swing, where they persecute the living fucking ass 'shyit' out of me all the time, BUT-374, especially on the fucking HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY TIMES, being all the three day holiday fucking weekends such as this Presidents ?day, and all of the others as well, it is really back on a death kill fucking hyper time ass vengeful roll, peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



I learned as a boy of about age ten, that animals can be telepathically communicated with,m if they desire to waste their time on mundane things such as going along for a short while with such things as playing our silly games in the world of 'human affairs'. You must mimmick their sound that they mjake, and whilke doing it, think to them, don't speak out loud. Then when they speak back, hear them in your mind by wanting to, and with the ferver and desire to make it happen, such as just as any man not dead or Viagra dependent yet knows fully well, if a beautiful naked girl jumps all over him, loving him madly, you do not have to really TRY and be having a great time, you are simply doing it. I learned somewhere between 46 and 48 years ago while living in a garden apartment complex and having neighbor friends my age with pet dogs and birds and cats and gerbils and so forth, that indeed this was real and more than just possible, but nobody else had a clue, and I was smart enough to keep it that way, Sarah Partyfive Ghostalker Jennifer. We had a cat named Bojo, a big lovely jet black cat. One day I meowed at Bojo and looked at him and said to him with my mind while I was meowing, that I was going to come over and kick him. He meowed back at me and I heard in my mind, “That's what you think you blow hard”, abnd instantly he chased me, and I ran into my apartment, this happened, it was real, it UIS-REAL. All the fucking shit in my crazy outlandish mother fucking life, from secret daughters to talking lottery cats, to moving in five dimensions and getting buried in a large beach hole by a dead lady the other night after she and some friends robbed me and started to drive away in a big beach-doon buggy. GA is outside my building, curled up at the rear doors leading out to the parking lot, opposite Avenue B. I was out getting screwed at fucking K-Mart, they sold me some insurance on headphones and would not honor it because I did not save the box. The man at the electronics department where I purchased them around my birthday somewhere late last year, told me I only needed my credit card that was used to make the purchase, this was not the case, as he did not tell me this is for 30 days, and after this time, I will need both a receipt, as well as a box in perfect condition. They do not really plan on honoring those extended warranty insurance deals, I should know after Radio shack back in Hammonton, New Jersey, screwed me out of my proper and right money on more than one occasion until I quit buying headphones there all together as a result, and went to a high end electronic store like Circuit mother fucking ass City. Chemtrails are climbing all over me and have the sky so filled up that the entire day has turned into one ugly giant mess of sky pollution with a mix of various ugly gray and dark gray color, ugly as mother fucking sin itself, squared. When I returned back at my PHA Building, GAGA was there all curled up, and I pet him and talked to him normally because other folks were there sitting on benches, but then I got bolder and meowed at him on his frequency, wow, and with the chemtrails, and high ends suffering on voices as a result, that was quite a feat, but moving on here and not harping on these heels that I'd love to shove my shoe up their ass; I inwardly asked Gawky Whitepaws, why on Friday night did the cards give me PC-number-231, when I asked what this weekend would be mostly about with me? My mind instantly heard him tell me that he is Gawky Gaukauk and has been sent to watch over me down here in Florida. The ASPCA took him away, and he escaped and came back here, he told me. I know for a fact that there was indeed a large stray cat round up, don't get too excited there you crooks over at Arista records from 1981, YO. After this initial 'catversation' between Ga and me, and I asked him why my daughter would do anything mean to me, I heard him meow but my brain also heard loud and clear, “What, she is the only one with PCN-231?, you silly butt wipe you”. I asked him who else had these numbers and was behind my demise and death siege this weekend and for so long now this horrible year and starting since last autumn really, and he meowed the answer and I was able to clearly mentally hear a voice say, “How about your wonderful pals, Donald Trump, and Frank Callio, for starters, ya' dummy”?



I just could not wait to come up to my fucking ass apartment and share this powerful shit with the world, YO so there, GET THAT EVERYBODY???????????????????



Lowlife Bobby Brown stole my song in 1989, and changed the style of it and made it sound the way I used to tell David Roth through a bugged telephone, the way I actually sang this tune at my job at the Mars Graphic Services Company, of Westville, New Jersey, back while employed there in the print bindery in 1977. I see you are the same lowlife today after all these years, you mother fucking loser crack head jack off, you. First, you make a crackhead out of your poor wife, it was not the chemtrails that fucked that voice up in later years, it was your rotten crack pal. Then you go to the Newark funeral last night and cause trouble with an all ready barieved family, you are one sick piece of twisted shit monster, and I am too white unfortunately to be able to call you other names. My third granny being darker than the ace of spades won't cut it when I look the way that I do. Still, every 6 generations according to biologists, huh Maury. Well, enough said about ass holes and pricks for one fucking blog, YO. Fuck the world. Spell Checker on this cheap system is no help with spelling the word for saddened, sorry, I know it is fucking misspelled, YO. Shame the fuck on you BB, you big ugly worthless druggie turd!



My phone will be off-hook until I get up to go to work on Tuesday morning. I'll hear from you sometime after this PP, as I have a lot to tell you, but in the mood I am in right now, you would not even want to talk to me, I am a real mother fucker right now, and more than insects really do seem to run in my incredible wild total family, huh TWC and Jenny Love H? I hate all my distant cousins, even my first ones, they;re all a bunch of stuck up rich fucking bums, screw them. I stay to my fucking self, screw the fucking world. I hate everybody and everything, I am persecuted and harassed day and night for something I never even have done, or if I have done it Laura Mary Petry Moore, stop whining and telling me that I know what it is, that annoyed the living fucki8 out of me on the DVD TV SHOW back in the middle sixties, as much as I could pop wood looking at lovely Mary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



If peeps do not like my blogs when I need to vent and am in a bad mood, I do not understand why they keep reading them, it is like thiose morons who keep watching some shit on TV and complaining. Once I see a show is ridiculous and an offense to my intelligence, OFF IT FUCKING GOES, POOGF, do this with my blogs folks, I promise you it's painless and quick, and I';; also promise that to stop my words, you'll have to fucking KILL ME!!!!!!!!!



SO YOU WANNA' PLAY CHEMTRAIL, with me, do you, WOMOTAMM? Fine; but you all ready have an idea I'm quite positive; what's coming as the next month rears its head. Please remember it is your fault that this all will go down after I post it up, not mine. You forced my hand with all this nightmare shit you're fucking ass doing to innocent poor fucking me, you sick twisted diseased jerk off dirt bags. Despite all this hell, Mariloo Carpenter and her wonderful 34-RS is kicking dynamite fucking ass, YO. I always knew there was powerful magic in the numbers of 3 and 4. 3+4=7. 3X4=12. 12 and 7 are two incredible powerful biblical freaking numbers. No Scylla, I did not forget how to care, and I do know that Love Is For Carpenters, and I am the one that taught the great Foreigners and other 'aliens' many 'hidden' things, as 1980 does precede 1985, or am I in error here Bruce Allen Pennock. If so, let my wonderful kid know, she might need a laugh later on. Please do not be too mad at me for the post that is coming soon, they really did leave me no BC choice, huh Roseann Delaney???????????????? I did not forget how to care, BEG, I just totally forgot. Ask your pal Lenny, wow Trump Troup how can Dick and his crew know all these things about me without the two of you getting together and comparing notes, wow, am I really so dam iomportant, do the 1982 experts still agree, Icabod? Shyit folks, this is totally fucking Mack Kaiter absurd, or is it just Lester ass ridiculous there cuzz? So where really is the rest of the news, MISTER PAUL HARVEY? Want it, really, sure you do, in a pigs prick you do, you couldn't handle my truths if you were standing in a phone booth with five naked goddesses giving you heaven on Earth simultaneously.



The gods, don't lie to yourselves, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can peeps handle the Pope Himself coming to the church next to the house where I was SK in late in oh-M-8? How can you handle 100 varying stories of pants not going down to my shoes that I could tell while sworn under an oath in a court of law, without fear? Hay I know RL wouldn't give you that BJ in the construction trailer that day, but the cover up on the beach jetty in SHNJUSAESMWG, had major 5th dimensional hyperspace effects, as all things do in various ways and degrees. Patterson and his pal Elv, yeah, what secrets aren't being kept by the great SP of New Jersey, YO? The gods, do I dare even type on a few more things, or should I take my moms good advice and keep my eyes and ears open, my nose clean, and my big stupid ass fucking mouth SHUT for crissake, YO?



World, you will see the wildest weather to strike this globe in 1000 years, once I post this up, so I really hope that 'they' know what they're doing, YO.



END ILLUSION, DUDES AND DUDDESSES.

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