SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0381
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BEGINNING BLOG:
Wow does this world fucking hate my guts. Or does it? The Silicons have struck me a long time ago, and made everybody despise me. I do a lot of really bad things however, and feel compelled to tell the world about it. I spent my entire life being courteous and nice to people, helping them when I can, and when I cannot, I always say, I'm sorry. I gave a man a thousand dollars for his son to be married, we all know the father must bare the financial burdens of wedding a son. Why I am not so totally sure, something to do with tradition I guess. In any event, I never received any genuine thank you, I was never repaid for the loan, but hay, that is the way it goes. Yes, I am a horrible guy, I do mean things like helping lots of very ungrateful folks, such as say, Dawn-Marie King. I was literally her slave, and she treated me illegally bad and took all I had and threw me to the wolves. Oh I am one hell of a meanie. She threatened to set me on fire, and said she was going to punch me all the time, screamed at me until my ears rang, and all I did was try and please her, monster rotten person that I am. Her lovely mother is torturing me now., Hay, I deserve this because I am such a horrible terrible person. I have given a dozen people large sums of money and was told that real great things would happen, and my life would be wonderful. Well I deserve this because I am such an ugly nasty mean rotten dude. Then there is the great Billy Harner. People wonder why I do not like rock stars, well, do you have years and years and years folks? All any of them ever want to do is treat me like the Bubonic Plague of Europe. I posted a song by Billy, and then gave him a nice short review by making a comment on my own You-Tube site, telling people to go up and hear more great stuff by him, and gave the address, www.billyharner.com/ and he had it removed, and also, stopped anyone from posting his site onto my comment block on the SARAH SONG, making sure to distance himself from me. I will now post this up, and try and remove his garbage from my You-Tube channel. Not only will I do this, but I will do something else after calming down from this experience, and carefully reviewing in my mind just what might be happening. I feel that the entire ENTERTAINMENT WORLD has ripped me off, hates me out of jealousy, and wants me dead covertly of course, and I have absolutely no freaking intentions whatsoever, of handing them any happiness at all. They have wiped out my life, and they will be sorry, because, this newest thing I am experiencing with them regarding MI, common sense tells me they will not hurt there own people. This was a clever stunt to silence me on a huge secret, so now we will tell this powerful mother fucking secret, right now to the open public world. I just went up and tried, but I do not know how to delete a posted video, there is no instruction that makers any sense to poor Bancroft Special Education ignorant fucking little me, SORRY. Hay Billy, you turd, it will be off next week, I will go to the studio and have it TAKEN OFF, so know prob-bob, you just go right on hating me you pot smoking pig. When people are all gonna be this fucking mean to me, then before my fathers' secret, here is one for you rock star Billy. Thank you for taking hundreds of dollars out of my mother's coat pockets that day on Halloween of 2000. Guess you're a real big hero. I know you have some really great fans in the silicon world, as my neighbor next door has not blasted his shit this badly since Donna Summer's birthday, and I might have to fucking cunt call the police. I am getting real sick abnd tired of this. His hooker knocked on my door an hour or so ago, and asked for him, I told her he is next door, she said oh over in number 605, so why did he tell her to come to unit 607 in the first place? They will be acting up all night, I have to get to Mexico next week or these fucking jerk offs will all kill me in this evil country of silicon mind control. Lake fucking cunt Chapala, here I mother fucking cunt come, folks. If by chance UR reading this blog RI, please take off the SARAH song from that demonic fucking Google you Tube site, thank you, in fact, if you get this, call me, we need to talk before I come in, and REMOVE THE ENTIRE ACCOUNT, CLOSE IT DOWN, this is not working one bit, Chris Bennett was a fucking liar, Ed Lynch was a fucking liar, and I better not ever run into either one of these dick eating turd chewers, and I'll tell you all fucking ass that much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, Billy I know that you and Hartley stole a lot of money out of my poor dead mother's coat pocket that Halloween Day over at Guthrie Short's Mansion. This is why your guilty conscience slipped me a few bucks here and there, in all honesty, probably almost returning the full amount over time. Rock stars. Can you live without them folks? I know I sure can. Yippie-IO-KI-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Death angels are super fucking bad every single day, but I never fucking die of course. So also are relentless mother fucking Jane miss bitch clock attacks.
No this blogging fucking shit Chris and Ed, is not the answer you cock suckers told me a lie, but then WEIN? (What Else Is New)? Same Old Same Old (SOSO). Well, maybe it is time for me to do a huge terroristic thing and stop all; this fucking ass pussyfooting around with this mickey mouse ass garbage. If this attack does not break off soon, my father's pillow talk will be told and posted, and then I think it is time to just let it all stay up on GOOGLE and what happens happens. The blogs will stop and be over, and the shit on the music site will all come down, which removes it off the blogs as well. I knew that fucking conversation would make things worse, this girl has never ever forgiven me, and I have not done anything, mommy never told me she was pregnant, I did not know you were here for 38 years, I'm sorry. Just a small part of the pillow talk now will get said, then we will close down for the evening, I will take a drive over to a place where I can get away from things for a while, and this is nobody's fucking business.
My dad was in Baton Rouge, Louisiana in 1973, and came up at the end of the year or the starting of 1974, shortly after my days had ended at the computer school in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, around October of 1973, graduating me in Computer Programming with a B-+ grade, on Basic, Report Program Generator, Formula Translation, and Assembler Computer Languages, on the IBM SYSTEM 360 computer Mainframe. One night out of three that I will never forget, he had got up to take a fucking piss and returned to the cot bed set up for him in my room, the Mentalist Bedroom, THEY know what's getting fucking said here; and this was not the time my dad talked about Star Trek, and the future movies with the space platforms, on this as earlier blogs from 2007 told about, he was wide awake. What he did say makes all the shit that the US government military system does when someone is poking around into secret stuff, and they become aware of it and begin flying around and intimidating the people, just as is now shown openly on numerous television documentaries and movies and shows of all types, what the real secrets are, and the exact reasons for the intimidation operations being performed has more to do with things right here on Planet Earth than any other so-called crap in or pertaining to deeper outer space bullshit, also quite unfortunately disappointing for the buffs of Ufology and alien life and hopeful future contact. None of this is reality, or said better, a reality that could count in any really significant way. All ready with just this, THEY know that I KNOW. It will amaze me if shit does not start to back off a little around or by midnight or so, but hay, if not, well, we go into full death attack mode or FDAM, or 'FIDDAM' for a nice abbreviation pronunciation. Like the CON crap in the government, this FIDDAM has levels, mine are only 3, I do not really know, nor does Hollywood/weird, just how their system works, movies all notwithstanding. In case you are wondering, I am all ready at FIDDAM ONE RIGHT NOW, and really believe I will be at either FIDDAM TWO very soon, and ready then to go all the way, or things will back off a little mother fucking bit. I spend half my time normally at either Full-Death-Attack (FIDDAM) one, or off of it but close as wind piss. The only times I am this near to F-3, once this year, three times last year, twice in ten, and back at Dawn and Ann and Chicky's place, rarely during those 16 months of time from middle 8 through late 9. Enemies had me all ready, no need to do other shit that got me to go into near FIDDAM-MODE. Now moving on a little, my dad on the one night I began telling a small bit about, told me that a black woman and a black man who sponsor a large enterprise will be telling me things in the same manner as a girl from my boyhood had done. It was not until it happened, that I fucking connected the dots that he was referring to DREAM CONTACT, or O/T.
David Roth told me that I was opening up a hornets nest, back in 1999 and 2000, when I was talking to McGuire and Callio of Atlantic City, New Jersey. Only tonight up here on the final day of the first fucking quarter of 2012, do I for the first time now, really GET THAT, and I'll admit it, Wi9lson Jessup of Edison-Nixon, New Jersey on 27 Crescent Road, my pal. If you are alive, we need to talk before the planet is blown up very soon, VERY VERY VERY S-O-O-N!!!!!!!! Hopefully you will remember Mark Minor. He seemed to know some Beachboys songs a year or two before they ever came out. Hmmmm. We do need to talk. Sorry guys, you are not in the Spellchecker list, wow, unbelievable, or is it, is it really, next to all this fucking ass bullshit???????
RI, TAKE HARNER'S GARBAGE DOWN OFF YOU-TUBE.
ENDING BLOG:
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