KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0361

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0361

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

START OF BLOG FROM HELL:

It is 12 minutes shy of 12 noon on Monday. I am too mother fucking cunt chewing ill to go to work, shitting my guts out every hour, cleaning one pair of pajamas after another in the bathtub, and this all started yesterday, Sunday in the afternoon when I got back from the fucking island and my friend Mike Patterson's beach house.

I HAVE AN EMERGENCY APPOINTMENT scheduled with my local doctor, Jay this afternoon where they will write me a powerful anti-diarrhea script that I will then fill at the local 25^th Avenue Wallgreens Pharmacy, and also write me a work excuse note for today and tomorrow, I really need the time to rest and recuperate from this vicious attack that I strongly fucking feel and believe was caused against me intentionally, and was a combination of mother fucking off the scales major super cunt stress as well as early Sunday morning pre-dawn sky poison attack via what else but good old non-1987 CHEMTRAILS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will call my engineer at the Avalon Recording Studio and remind him that I paid for the project and all though I realize it was not his fault, to please re-post onto the YOU-TUBE website, my two GONE-MISSING-GALLAGHER-MCGUIRE songs from good old Lois Foca 1980, goddesses, YOU CAN'T LIVE WITH THEM, YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM, talk about the quintessential and ultimate rock and hard place scenario, YO.

As usual by ass hole nabes across the hall never ever shut the fuck up, boom bing bang in and out in and out over and over and over, like what the fuck are you idiots doing that you can't make a checklist and then just go fucking do it, butt wipes? No annoy poor Mountainpen instead, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ryan at Avalon, should you be reading any of my words or blogs, none of this was your fault. Please try and re-post, and then maybe help me get to the bottom of why THEY are removing this perfectly legitimate music from my channel up there. I had everyone's permission to do what I did, everybody was paid their fees a long long long time ago, and on and on. All these items were copyright protected by me, and they are all totally 100% owned by me. The only tune arrangement that was changed from how it originally was written, was the Billy Harner version of Sarah. I wrote Sarah on May 12^th in 1996 from my apartment in Williamstown in New Jersey, using a small Radio Shack keyboard, and sang over this created music track at the studio where I had worked 16 years before this in 1980, in Camden, New Jersey's world famous RPL Sound Studios and Labs, at 1558 Pierce Avenue and 1100 State Street. On this arrangement of the song as well as a rewritten partial tune that is yup on my channel now, this was co-written and is co-copyrighted with the Chief Executive Officer and my friend, PPPPPPPP, of SPR. I have left a couple of messages with both him as well as Ryan at Avalon Studio, that my two songs have indded been removed from my YOU-TUBE CHANNEL, and was done on March 4^th, just a few days after the posting of all of my 8 videos there on March the fucking first. My edit page that only YOU-TUBE and myself should be able to get into show the two dates of activity, mine on 3/1/12, and theirs quite obviously on 3/4/12. Unless they have some super powerful wonderful reason for doing this, I plan to initiate a lawsuit against the GOOGLE CORPORATION, owners of the YOU-TUBE site, for WRONGFUL PRACTICE and especially DEFAMATION OF MY character, as what they did, if they indeed did it and who else could have done it, casts a deep dark shadow on my reputation that hints of impropriety or illegality on my part, and this peeps is simply not so. So the tunes go back up or the lawsuit WILL BE FILED, that MO is a promise, you and too WOMO-OTAMM!!!!!!!

Wow, without a whole lot of aerial persecution and pummeling against me in two or three days, look at all of this mother fucking major ass NKRB attack procedures that my enemies have used against me. It really does honestly seem to be that if I say something, POW, BOOM, BANG, and /C?ANNON-FIRE, the exact thing is just about always brought to bare against me. Let me so much as just fucking speak it, and there it is, all done, like right out of the fucking Christian fucking bible. But why then is reap and sow practice, for me anyway, a lifetime of fucking lies and deception? This only works bad and against me folks, never for me or for the mother fucking ass good, so just why do the biblical principles operate around me and my life with this perfect dependable fervor in one direction, but never ever in the positive direction, especially when all my life I always try and do my best to sow only good seeds as it says to do in this mother fucking bible? It make no sense at all, and trying to understand it can drive a mother fucking person nuts as a can of tree extractions.

So far, I have yet to hear anything from PPPPPPP or RI. I will check on the YOU-TUBE and see later this fucking ass afternoon, if my human and civil rights are still in the stages of violation. This is going to make me a hell of a lawsuit, I have great witnesses that this was all posted up totally legitimately, the Copyright Office in Washington, PPPPPPP, his classmate Donna, the Congressman, and finally, the great musical arranger who arranged these tunes, NFL's musical heart throb, Mister Tom Glenn. Somebody has BITTEN OFF WAY MORE THAN EVEN MIZZ DELANEY IS GOING TO BE ABLE TO CHEW, EMEREFFERS, THAT IS A TOTAL PROMISE, THIS HAS EVEN EFFECTED MY PHYSICAL HEALTH AND MY ABILITY TO WORK AND EARN A LIVING by sending my freaking stress levels up into a heart attack and stroke fucking range. Should I die from this PPPPPPPPPPP, I give you my estate, all things including your partners' law suit against GOOGLE, so for the sake of the fucking gods take it and use it and sue for a few billion USD. The jury awards in New Jersey are very generous when a large corporation injures the reputation of an innocent person and then leads as so far in what they acted on, to the death of that said freaking person, in this case your old partner, and none other than freaking ME. The only thing I won't leave you in my final will and testament all notarized and legal, is the treasure map or really the sea charts showing precise locations of seven sunken 16^th century Portuguese Treasure Galleons. These go to my oldest daughter and her heirs because she has enough money to pursue salvaging them and working with Florida to allow her to keep a percentage of the approximately 25+ billion USD in gold alone down there under the sediment far below the waters off my shores here. This is her heritage and these have been willed to her, PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. Maybe I can make up for not even know I had such a lovely kid for the first 38 years of her freaking life. I was never told. Still, I am in no mood to talk about family or treasure salvage or any other thing right now other than the topic at hand, YO.

I do say this much here and now before signing off. The song opens up with, “What are we going to do about all of these horrible chemtrails?”. Well maybe nothing. Maybe now I won't have to, as many things seem to just be happening that will lead to all of this nightmare story just popping up on the global media overnight, they cannot suppress what has been done to me since I have been in my freaking teens PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP, not forever, they may think they can, but I know that sooner or later, this shit will come out of this well sealed bag, and then the entire world will be on its next quantum leap forward into the real future, rather than all this time, staying in the fucking REAL/E FUTURE, Diana says it so well her, “I don't need this, no ho, no nothing”, and she is right, I DON'T. She was just mad that day in her human form because she forgot that only as LIGHTNING was she able to work Colaman's cool machine, and communicate with me directly back in the spring time of the year 1983 when all this was destined to get its start between me and the ************GODS**************** from the sky, ancient astronauts and NASA and its real agenda's all not mother fucking withstanding, peeps and bros!!!!!!!!!!!! So the question now becomes, was this all there ever was, with the Ernie Song of 1983 and its great beat, and don't play dumb with me RIAA, but really, is it? Where is mother fucking wonderful Mizz Peggy Lee when I need her to kick in right about here, YO??????????????? Well I am signing off of the magical 3333 life chart of midlife crisis, wow, please my long haired LORDESS, and love of my life. Hay who is kidding who, I knew I loved you more that I dared to admit to myself thousands of years ago when I loved on this wonderful green/brown blue-skied Earth, as King David. I loved you so much Sarah-Stacey Jehovah that I wrote 150 songs for you that to this day are being read in their lyrical form. I plan, my brown eyed love, to eventually write music around all of these, my SSJKK; and you know I'll always love you more than my life times the cube of ten to the power of a trillion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That does not really begin to tell my LORDESS how badly I love and want and need HER, forever and ever. Please don't make me remain here on the Earth too much longer, PLEASE. I need to come home my love, I want to be in that wonderful place by the bay, my BEG. Yes, I BEG too, wolf-wolf, my Scylla. You told me I'll never get away, and I do not have any desire to ever do so, my endless love. In my 'dreams' I am holding my giant teenager in my arms and you are telling me in your awesome voice just how much you love me. You belong to me Jehovah and I belong to you. Maybe the midlife-crisis started out real bad, but it all led me to you, and the middle number on my life chart was the sets of 3. Still, the third part of you is always 33, but only you and I know what you told me in that powerful dream back in 1984 while I lived in Cinnaminson on Highland Avenue. You said your great magic number was 3 to the power of three, or the number of 27. Wow, can this really all be my insane mind, along with some unrequested assistance from WFMU and fatso Jason, giving me that ugly face and those horrendous horns, electronically of course, on that monstrous web-page of his. SSJKK will burn you in the fires of DOGTOWN for many many Mininna Kalpa.

Well folks allow me now to relax and then later trudge over to my Doctor, Jay Schorr, next to the Fort Pierce Hospital, down here in Southeast Central sunny Botbarida Florida, USAESMWG. BWYE-BWYE Elmer Whhhheeeet Thin Fwudddd!

555-555-555-555-555-555-555-555-555-555. This will compensate for this cosmic fucking attack on me for the past years and decades with no relief or let up upon me whatsofuckingever. Jane Sleaze-Weeds Disease has been getting me real good, like Keisha's monster punch in 1999 that busted my right arm and could be heard throughout an entire large garden apartment complex. How I will remember forever the next day when my girlfriend Helen Zebriski saw the huge fist sized mega bruise that is still there today from where the bone fracture healed after it leaked all over inside, from this just 14 year old jet black goddess's punch, she said to me and I will quote her, “Oh she got you GOOD”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes Jane Crappa is getting me just as good with her rotten Atlanta Braves clock attacks of the ONES, BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Death angels for the past year are three times worse than in recent years, also. Just for the record I state all of this. Still, I did, they copy me, it never ends. Maybe gods fucking dam it, it just never ever will end, right young Mark Minor non-existor, oh lucky-lucky-you, wetahded or not, YO. Let me go my bros!!!!!!

END BLOG FROM HELL, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT.

PS, then my kid and her friends wanna' know why the barking? Well, Dogtown will make anyone bark sadly. It is far far far worse than having Shawnee Smith just one inch forever away from you, staring into her young teenaged beauty back in 1985, and not being able to even get a lovely kiss from this wild young beautiful goddess. Yes imagine ten thousand years of this torture, now try multiplying that by fifty-billion or so, and we get 'DOGTOWN', erp, erp, erp, and LOIS FOCA intro's all not freaking withstanding folks, YO.