KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0350

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0350

DATFILE: 030412.010

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

COPYRIGHT MWM/MWM/MF-2/MOUNTAINPEN

© 2006-2012 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

VOLUNTARY OATH SWORN HERE OF TRUTH

START OF WHATEVER:

Here is the situation, Inspector Henderson Jenny Johnson Louidgee: Eighteen straight days of sky fucking bull shit now, and counting, it stops when it stops at this point, chemtrailing today was quite bad, I've seen worse, but it just will not mother fucking stop or break the shit off, even despite my making good on my early March threat of doing some electronically recording transdimensional phenomena, that always causes major fuck ups every single time, like perfect Swiss time pieces.

Yesterday, or really the day before that, Friday; my across the hall nut case fucking nabes, were total scum bags, WEIN-SOSO? Slam bang bull shit, yelling in the hall, screaming kids, and on and on. Then it annoyed my next door whack job so he started playing his boomer crap for a while. I have all ready began making some moving arrangements. I am not planning to leave the area yet, I am not ready to do this just now folks. I will not be fucking cunt bullied into shit either. This is how I lost every mother fucking thing I owned in this world.

When I exited the fucking recording studio on Thursday evening around just after quarter past seven, a nasty covert type of helicopter was stalking the studio and me from the northwest, right above the studio, and it made an entire round about turn after seeing me walk out. Obviously they ran my credit card as they do on L&O the TV show, and knew I had just paid for the session with plastic, this is not TV shit, Officer Gibbsboro, they certainly can and indeed fucking do this all the time, invading the personal privacy of innocent mother fucking peeps like myself. I must be so god dam important, that whoever they are that are doing this to me, are wasting a lifetime of their time and energy and sully and resources, really folks, our tax dollar as we pay them for this 'service'. GO OCCUPY, I AM BEHIND YOU ALL THE WAY, ALL OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A very long time ago, this great nation was indeed a great nation, and theoretically, it could be again, but don't hold your breath waiting or anticipating folks, you too Lightning, my endless love.

Since this attack is so brutal and won't back off, and for the first time ever despite a major counter hit; then all I can say is folks, that for the first time ever; I appear to now be into some really wild and totally uncharted freaking waters. Never before has a major strike hit the WOMO where they do not back this off, so now it is time to sink or swim, to put up or shut up, or both, or 'whatever' to quote my wonderful buddy in 1975, Bob Andrews, the great vocalist of the Albert Pileggi Band of Westmont, New Jersey, down the street from the painful Hi9gh School of espionage. You know, all those years, old chum, I had you in my personal phone and address book on Oak Street, and never knew that you had become our great congressman. Good for you, you go and you rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But why peeps, does everyone in my past seem to take off for the freaking moon, it is uncanny for crissake, YO? None of you can ever know what it was like being me in May of 1980, moving into 1802 Robin Hill apartments in Voorhees Township in New Jersey, doing my four demo tunes, having that wild early June dream with Goddess Scylla Jehovah, running into her Astral cousin's brother Apollo-Lucifer on Browning road and having him do a Twilight Zone and wreck my Chevy Nova Automobile on my way home from my Camden, NJUSAESMWG job at the RPL Sound Recording Studio, having Gawky and his wife sit next to me on a bus and having him meow the word “DIE” at me and having the 594 lottery number come out that night, that was all previously told about on so many previous blogs. None of you were there, yet you judge me as insane, and draw mother fucking horns on my head electronically, and post me up on that stinking internet page with ass hole dirt bag Jason WFMU Forrest. You all should be totally mother fucking ashamed of your sick twisted selves, YO. You have zip nada zilch zero conscience, let alone any humanity left whatsoever. You will all burn in fucking hot sick horrendous DOGTOWN, AKA, HELL.

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