Friday, May 4, 2012

CHAPTER 0420 KING NEB, SAFE JOURNAL


SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0420

KING NEBNOOSHOO ON A FRIDAY EVENING,

STILL NO FREAKING PEE SIZED AQUARIUMS

WORLD LABORATORIES OF WESTMONT, NEW JERSEY

SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: 050412.875.555

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS, AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

MY OWN 1983 FIELDS OF ENTRAPMENT, SOON UPLOADED TO NEW-NET GAME”

© MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY 2006-2012

© MWM/MWM/MORIANITY-FOUNDATION-2/BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (MF-2)(BOM)



STARTING OF BLOG:



Lads, Lassies, Labbers, and Labrador Retrievers, and not forgetting all dog foods, dog houses, and especially Scylla's very favorite breed, created in eternity, specially, by and for, her endless amusement, Dalmatians; let me (permit me distant Long Island Babylonian Cousin Banker Heinz Gottwald the late), to talk this evening about a few topics that will really blow off your hats folks, so this is a fair Caveat and warning for those on the fence that often do lots of self quarreling on whether this is the time to hit that world famous “NEXT BLOG” square on your blogging site where you now are reading my words, but I'll tell you this, you just might miss out on shit that you have wondered about in your own very personal life, and this may be your very only chance right now as you read this, to learn it and get it, once and for all, not a lot of secret shit is going to be spared, so weak stomachs know the button to push, or just do a PC shutdown, if you fear you might have a personal general-breakdown. I'm not one bit responsible if you read on and just cannot handle it. After you shoot up some lovely 'Mickey-Dee' or something, don't go waltzing into court, and have your defense attorney try and justify your crime, with going banana's, after reading the 'BOM BLOG' tonight. “MCE”. (Major Caveat Emptor).



I am going to tell you about 1972, something the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle seemed to work overtime right before my kidnapping by the KINGS, to tell me to do, “in my sleep or exploratronically”. Forget walking dogs, lovely blonds I made friends with while on a family reunion road trip that could be symbolically construed as a Lee to Grant excursion if I'm allowed a little funny here, TEE HEE, Mizz Munster Shipyards Andrews; but aniwho; let's move this right along. I am also going to tell you about how this seemed to quite mysteriously and Potter-Magically with all names not spoken in mere jest here folks in honor of my wonderful mother of late, Mrs. Grace Eastman Mason Mohr who awakened from her then identity in hyperspace on the 4th of March in the year 2000, after being brutally exploratronically assaulted (in her sleep) early in the morning, the day after Christmas, in 1997, just after my meeting up with the great and illustrious MISTER SPR, 1616161616161616161616. I will also tell just how I learned to perform a night meditation called the “FASCITAR” after my final trip up to the infamous and not always so lovely Long Island, New York, USAESMWG, Mister Woodie Mansions Guthrie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This resulted from a coworker of my mom's at her Lavino Shipping Company office, a place known well by a once lover of the great mighty screaming temper tantrum girl, born as Diane Ross, and later changing it after unbloggable situations occurred, many unbloggable situations. No matter what WOMO ever does to me, there still is a NO CROSS LINE of NON-BLOGGABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “I DO KNOW” that.



Before I start to tackle this major counter attack tonight to answer this horrendous despicable and unthinkable horror show BOTBAY DAY given to me by MILITUFORCE WOMO ENEMIES; let me say a few quicker smaller mini-details, not Viqueen Teen Queens of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, or Quoddy mocker human doppelgangers, in Atlantic City, New Jersey's waking material world, Mizz Emmy/Amy Louise Cicone of mother Wall Street paper readers. So just how differently would life have turned out, Mrs. C? WO, Billy, to quote you, non-BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks for saving my life, but after what happened a few years later, I think we can agree that the scales have balanced out. You saved me just to torment me and make me feel major rotten, hmmm, reminds me of an interesting biblical name that if the great lists of the THEN-WOMO, had allowed our present bibles to read the full accounts; oh gee, these are all books by themselves, and would all be three times the size of whaleboat captain stories, and a lot larger than Moby's dick, if a little more humor is permitted me, Uncle Heinz. Better light up some candles now to clear this matter up, huh Patty/Paula/Exploratron from 1969 AD. Oh WOW, this is somewhat LES AND MACK KAITER ABSURD, HUH KATEYQUEEN OF THE DAIRIES, WHAAAAAAAAAA???????











The same invisible and powerful forces, Mister Hall Boxer of McAndrews and Forbes in 1980-1990 in Camden, New Jersey; went to work on me huge time before I began typing this blog tonight. I had a powerful item totally blocked out of mind, in the same manner as it happened twice, both times on TENNESSEE AVENUE IN ATLANTIC CITY IN NEW JERSEY, once in 1997 in early February, then later again in early October in 2006, both times, the only man there and involved, and once even caught directly on my own videotape, who else but Kennedy's protege himself, the family embarrassment cubed, and Janis Joplin's Bobby Magee, and AKA and most often too, MISTER ROBERT MCGUIRE. Innocent people do not intimidate and get all up in someone's face for doing no more than asking a few innocent questions, or wanting to take photographs for a website, of a world famous public place, such as near any public building, or street area, of the world famous vacation, tourist, and now gambling resort since 1978; called by the name of what else, but good old Atlantic freaking City, without any bloody shoes or emptied Mace Cans. C----R----A---S----H, no planes, no Comocosi action, just innicent whille cymbals, YO, so don't shoot me, anybody, Elten and I are just the keyboard players, trying to send our whittle messages through space, through time, and yes, certainly and definitely, Captain Fred McAndrews Crawford of 1979, through MIND, (STM)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Roger that one, Captain, and watch out for Danny rolling you for your 25 that cash you carry around with you like some ego maniac. Wow, kettle and pot thing, four years later. I can't seem to be able to win to save my own 'correctly received 6th dimensional signals', (sanity). So do you want to know what was MCGUIRE-ETOSS-TPB blocked out and omitted from my MIND RECEPTION earlier before I started this blog? Well if not, quit reading, as here is the information.







MC, I have to do this, so if you kick my ass in my sleep tonight, well, I'll just have to be brave. No one is stepping up to the plate in my defense in all of this, so I have to use what is blatantly in anyone's face who just reads what will now get said here. I apologize if some of your secrets end up coming out a little bit, it can't be helped, so I most likely know what I can expect after I retire around three, bang, crash, boom, slam. I will never forget that ocean liner ride if I live a million eternities, and I am only on my first one currently, as you well know. Here goes, SORRY.





Most folks in America, remember well, last months' $620,000,000.00 LOTTERY WINNING, when three now quite well off folks divided this sum up after paying my 7th grandfather his fee, along with all of his pals and the other 'founding fathers of this great nation', for placing this entire thing all together, called the USA, and making it the great superpower that is is today; and despite in 90% of the hyperspace, will be a third world system, in less than 170 years unfortunately, all because of major avarice and out of control capitalistic greed; but still even with the three way split and then the taxation so as to keep this wonderful land of the free alive and kicking for a while yet; this was one heck of a nice pile of chump change, as my old buddy Willie Gates might put it. Instead of seeing this as dollars, how about pretending now, that these bills, with George Washington's nice old face on the front of them, are all people sitting inside a gargantuan monster sized auditorium half the size of the state of Rode Island. Now one of these folks in this weird and off the wall little parable story of mine, is your personal buddy, and you are up on a monster sized stage with a monster amplification system and standing at a microphone stand all connected into unfathomable power amps and thousands of audio speaker monitors situated and placed throughout this beyond huge building, in ways that compensate for the snail pace of the speed of sound, next to light or thought or exploratrons aniwho. I just love that word relative, and obviously so do some other folks, and not just Sir Princeton Pop-park-pal, AKA, my father, Wayne Landis Mohr. Now here you are, and for reasons as vast as hyperspace itself, you somehow just totally know those magic numbers that will pop up to win this awesome jackpot lottery in ten hours or so. Now your pal is somewhere in this audience, but so are more than a couple of hundred million other folks. Please pay close attention, this will totally blow your freggin' socks right off, abnd none of you will be able to call me up and give me anywhere near a rational explanation. Well, my daughter could, and she knows the number, but has not called me since the days of the out-of-area-brown cow. Anyway, read on and get a mind blowing that you won't soon forget. I'll promise you that one WOMO, and others. Now in this parable story, only you have the winning number, you just know it. Also, you are going to tell your friend so he can run out to a car or hop a ride somewhere, and drive to a state that sells that particular lottery ticket, in my state of Florida, many had to drive all the way to Georgia. There should be national lotteries, it would pay for all the stuff that all the taxed pay for, and why not even have some international ones run from Broad and Wall Street? Hell their stocks game is no more than legal fucking gambling, and worse, as it is cheated and fixed, so why not, hell no more payments to go to my 7th great grand daddy, Samuel Huntington, long dead now, but in memory, we all still call him (UNCLE SAM), yes this is MY HERITAGE, AND I AM VERY PROUD OF IT 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But returning now to the parable of the man on stage with the winning number, and his pal out somewhere in this gigantic audience. No one in the audience is able to move, other than their hands, and they all have a sheet of paper and a nice sharp pencil to write with. Here you are with the information to give this friend, somewhere out there in the crowd of nearly a quarter of a billion folks. You have it within your ability to tell your pal this number so he can write it down, and once the person writes down a number, they can leave and no longer are motionless or frozen. Everyone wants the number, who doesn't want truth, or wealth for that matter, it does make life easier in certain parameters, so long as we come to learn early on in our lives that it is only a cure for one of life's many parameters and dynamics, and cannot for example bring back a long dead friend, or stop another one from dying of ALS, nor can it make anyone really care for us or love us, in fact it wipes out any real chance of ever knowing just who does care for us or would if we had twenty cents in the bank. Still, all folks in this audience want this number, there are no two ways about this fact for a single little nanosecond. Before going n, this detailed story, hidden in parable, will be given direct meaning in a very short time now, keep reading. If it was not for things getting this bad for me with the WOMOTTAM, I was never going to tell this, but I had it in my head to tell, since I came to Florida at the end of 2009, and began blogging again after getting myself situated at the RV Park called Manatee over in the White City section of Fort Pierce, FLUSAESMWG, using the library computer to do my blogging and posting to the internet websites. Now remember folks, you are on this stage, put yourself into the story as it will then flow so much better, shy after all should you give two shits about me, you don't know me, and all odds are you never will. So you somehow just know this number, you have ten hours to purchase a winning ticket on this number, and here you are somewhere in this gigantic stadium someplace, up on the stage, at this microphone, needing to tell your friend, somewhere in the middle of this unfathomable crowd, to write down these magic numbers and go out and play them. None of this is an exaggeration folks, not one bit. Now you finally shout out the number through this great sound PA system that all 200 plus million folks are able to hear loud and clear and plain as day, yet after you do this, only your friend does in fact hear this message, and writes down the numbers. He walks out and goes and plays them and wins, while all the others remain frozen forever, only able to scribble on a sheet of paper, but they never did, because they never seemed to have even heard you. Now why? Y JIMMY Y, Copyright Office of 34th Street in Manhattan? So what the hell is all this about, I said I'd make it clear, well, I will. The great MC, exactly 12 yerars to the day, after I wrote the song called, “SARAH”, on May the 12th of 1996, being May 12, 2008, went tio the top of the great 34th Street Empire State Buiolding, and was quoted in many magazines as speaking the words, “I OWN THE EMPIRE”. Why is it that millions and millions of heard and read about this, and do know it, yet ONLY I WHO THIS WEAS MEANT FOR, R-E-A-L-L-Y heard, and received the great message from HER. I know SHE rules the empire, as SHE is the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE or (SCYLLA), and yes folks, SHE DOES RULE THE EMPIRE. Still, my question remains folks. How can this be? How can SHE get this great message to THAT BOY, the only one meant to get it, and all the others around this awesome situation, NOT GET IT, not then, not ever?????? HOW?????????????? Only the All mighty Herself knows this answer, and I doubt that SHE will call and tell me. So this brings me to open up a powerful set of somewhat new things right now, folks.













First, there are four numbers of super mighty and great importance, and understanding just how they fit into a yet unknown equation in multiple higher numeration mathematical decimal bases, would be beyond super ultra hyper classified global information, as it would release the slaves from their friggin' masters practically overnight. The numbers are 594, 583, 572, 561, 550, 539, 528, 517. Nine numbers out of a thousand numbers that contain three digits, if we include 000 and go all the way up to 999. The other night, I was back at my ADVANCED ROBOTICS class, that I am taking in another one of my 5th dimensional lives in hyperspace. I learned an equation that appears as a series of squares, with an almost third dimensional symbol coming from within some of them, and over here, I have very limited memory to the details, other than to say that I knew when I awoke back here, things were going to get real real real real real bad, not good, BAD. No Superman, no 1978 movies from the great Hollywood, no curly girls from NASA space Coasts and Dumpty-Dumpty Unthinkables, just straight pure simple OJ Simple Simpson Medical Center abused wives and all, with the mean reality, from root mean squares of sound amplification, to using sonic waves to make androids function, and so much more. Still, with or without the juice, these machines niot only work, but all of the so called alien visitors from space, would be robotic or android probes, just as we send probes to search the universe out. The problem is that the amount of electromagnetic field energies needed, to take a flat map of stars so to speak, and fold it in half to warp through, requires the development of subtronic power that even World Labs is just starting to learn about and develop up near 2300. You have to actually communicate by breaking a yet unknown symbolic code of multidimensional mathematics where STM or the entire 5 dimensional reality is all merged, in ways that neutral zones no longer exist such as in my examples with playing CARDDECKS and black and white space and querying cosmos, as talked about in many old blogs, before the starting of the very recent one with the URL address of this present blog on the Blogger Website, called: http://theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/ and I believe with the HTTP or hyper text transfer protocol used, you need not include the world wide web letters of www. Still, this card cosmos querying was done and discussed a lot in my earlier blogs, so archive them if you are at all interested. This neutral zone is a barrier that will exist until a formula is learned for operating in fifth dimensional mathematics, far in the future, in most areas of near localized 5th dimensional hyperspace. I see I am wrong, the www is added, as when you move your mouse onto the URL address, it show the address to include it, but it will do this automatically. In many cases, no longer do we need to type in the www or the http, just the item, and the computer is now programmed to add it. WOW. You'll always say it better than I can, but I'll bet you are wondering how you exist in hyperspace in 2293. Well, I need a few secrets kept for my sake, we can't have things too imbalanced. Roger retraced you after I retraced him, or that is what he told me at the Hammonton Cigar Store on the Julia Horse Pike that day ion the late autumn of 2008. So put away the candles, and tell your mom they are not needed either, but ask her if she has seen Fred Hinger in the past 25 years, I'd really be interested, 003. Symbols are powerful, and only one letter with one value amount separates HINGES AND HINGER, the last letter is but one away, S follows the R. WOW, round robin time. I won't be doing anymore intro's so don't be too mad at me wonderful Scylla. Let me compensate for the page eleven of eleven now with this little beauty queen of a number. 55555555555555555555555555555555555555. Thank-U.



















This is what happened ladies and gentlemen, and other animals who lost interest in human affairs a long time ago and tuned it out along with great Irish bands and Ernie cymbals, back in that wonderful and lovely time era of 1972. To say things really correctly as we go onto to introduce the proper usage of the ancient wizard tool called the Secret Rosicrucian Fascitar, long forgotten as the 2nd millennium came into being around 1055 or so, we need to regress to the summer of 1971. My mother knew what had happened to me and had a pipeline into all of it, her cousin Ruth. Ruth is a Huntington, as was my mom, and as I am, and my descendants, whether they accept this or not. They have very unusual abilities, and can take the quintillions of energy dots all around us known as sleeping or still exploratrons, normally in lower phase of operation; and bring them into a group that literally can fit into a hand, and at this point, this advanced robotic potential energy of pure 6th dimensional inconceivable spin energy, is melded with the holder's mind signal, from the 6th-D as well. You can then do anything, you thionk it, it is so, it is that simple. After you hold it however and interact with it, it will strobe and begin to colorize because your individual biological and chemical make up causes a frequency in the electromagnetic spectrum to break the many light bandwidths up into the multiplexed colorful pieces they actually are that then all blend perfectly together to become a pure absolute bright white This is why we see only a bright white night sky, except for the occasional color from a broken spectrum due to high graviton fields in-between our eyesight observance, and the actual event being reflected in SPACE-TIME-MIND to that eye observer. In the middle of April or early into it, in 2011 last year, I was at this same Advanced Robotics class, where 003 also attends, and I learned that on a particular night while at the Cifaloglio job, I was told to grab some of these energy dots, and then force the great Pulsar Star to come and visit me, and it did, its Astral Plane city name is Hydroglacia. All stars in the physical world are astral cities, fused populations of quadrillions of Astral inhabitant interactors. Exploratrons normally are never seen, but those able to see them, will find them at historical locations in a preponderance, for reasons that have to do with HISTORY MARKERS, and the three types of people, the Observer types also do time travel and hyperspace educational work, and Misses Marola went too far with the school play in 1969 because she altered an event that she had no business messing with. Most active and high phase or TYPE OF exploratron, is eventually tempted to play and mess around, this is where the expression was given its true origin and birth, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely”. My dirt ball exploratron controlled neighbors are shouting and banging at eleven eleven. Let me compensate folks. 555555555555555555. My letter to the PHA will be in the mail this weekend, not mailed from this building's mail drop system either, I am hand delivering it to the local post master, next to the Greenline Motors, WOW. 55555555555555555555555555. This teacher had no way of knowing that years would be pronounced two thousand three and two thousand four all SCIFY shows of the 60's through the 90's called it twenty oh this or twenty oh that, a little humor done on my part to further make this point in one of my YOUTUBE VIDEO INTRO'S, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. SAHWEE!!!!!!!! I have no choice sometimes, huh Barnabas. Love your taste in women, just not your taste, yeah Roseann in 1969, then Roxanne in 1970, and my birthday as the Paul Stoddard Due-Date of the great Lambrigger Cult of Wall Street, huh David Collins Hennessy? BULLSHIT, too many coinkeedinks for me Abbey Lovely Lucius Carmichael Electron. If you and the L&O gang can say too many coincidences, I feel I should be afforded the same rights. Yes sir, I've been busted in the mouth enough times as a scrawny youngster to remember that I have no desire for the taste of blood, lovely Mizz Delaney. By the way if I can go into a brand new gear hear Melanie, I screwed up and said a row of 16 units, I meant a row of 8 units at the Dellway Arms on Oakland Avenue but yes, it is not on 36th Avenue, despitre being on Oakland, however, there is a street that intersects in a parallel universe reality, and it leads straight to the great soda shop in Sahasra Dal Kanwal where Diana was waiting for me when I lost my waking world awareness on the 15th day in April in 2001 at the Technion Furniture Building I was guarding that day, in the computer Mainframe Terminal room, under construction on the 2nd floor. When I lose consciousness near any place of great power, Diana comes right to me, and she was so nice to me, but I am so sorry for not immediately recognizing you my wonderful precious love. You'll always be my lightning, and I belong only to you, forever, Diana. She has these really long eyes, about twice the length of a human eye, when she takes a human form as my very tall powerful blond goddess. Once you gaze at her eyes, you cannot stop starring at her, this is how beautiful Diana is, daughter of Zuudlochronus, and cousin of Sarah Krassle, both of the Astral Plane Capitol Province, Olympia.



Now to move the conversation back to summertime in 1971, my mom had a pipeline up on the great island, and came to learn what exploratron Pee did me two years earlier underneath the Atlantic City Central Pier at Saint James Place. She was worried that I would begin a relationship that was way out of normal age ranges, Paula King, daughter of John King was special, and able to take over the body of a neighbor from just up the block of Ruth's daughter. When she did this, she would come down to Atlantic City, and this is how she was a lot more than just Paul;a King, while Paula could get totally away with stuff, and it may as Dawn and Lisa claimed, all helped to lead up to the break up of a marriage. New York and Atlantic City are not that far apart, and I got that little message in the Kevin Seleebee episode of the baseball steroid thing, on the L&O show, about moving Atlantic City a lot closer to Manhattan. Anyway, but all this aside; my mom went up to visit her cuzz-Ruth, and some things happened, and the next thing I knew, and this was May of 1971, I was at summer school and unable to go to Atlantic city, and was watched carefully and staying with who else but Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason out at 1208 Greentree Lane in Narberth, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG, and then was told, I would be gfoing to a private school in Exton, PA, called the Church Farm School, don't get all excited Donna summer, my beautiful meat packer of Jeremiah Burke HS. This made sure, there would be no more secret pregnancies or unwanted children I suppose, or any forbidden relationships with older women. How I would just love to talk with my old pal and mentor from 1966 and 1967, MISTER FRED HINGER. He suddenly moved one day in late 1967, and was transferred to the Metropolitan in New York, he was the drummer at the Philharmonic when he was my mentor at the Hans Worshing Boys club in Philly-57, over at 21st and Chestnut Street. About four years before all this happened, I lived at 2041 Chestnut Street, Apartment #24-A, just a half a block to the east of the Boys Club, never knowing it was These at this earlier time, or what the future would all hold for me over the next five decades or half century. Now a little about the Fascitar and how I used it after the great Patricia Hollister was 'instrumental' in getting me this information, she was a coworker at my mom's shipping company friggin' office, early in the nineteen-seventies. This was never supposed to happen, but someone made sure it did happen after my mom worked like a freaking bandit to keep me away from all these girl gang peeps in Atlantic City, and especially All mighty ass Exploratron Paula King and her family from the distant ass stars. EVERY MOTHER FREAKING TIME I TYPE IN ATLANTIC CITY, THE “C” IN CITY, IS NEVER CAPITOLIZED. I HAVE TO GO BACK AND FRIKKING FIX IT EVERY FRIGGIN' TIME, HACK HACK JACK QUACK ATTACK, HUH MY STACEY? Well let us turn some takes and move some makes and move along some more now good folks. The only way we could ever 'hook up' again, would be if I would someday start to feel an unquenchable urge to FIND SARAH KRASSLE and become obsessed with her in general, someone long forgotten from boyhood and a distant past. It meant that I would need to learn how to properly become a higher and more advanced type of exploratron. Remember that all of us go to sleep and are at least TYPE-1-exploratrons. To do the things involved in all of this morianity story however, becoming a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON is needed. The only way to do this, is to learn the secrets of hidden power from the greatest Rosicrucian Wizards that were taught by Merlin Himself, a god from the Astral Plane by the name of Telekkia Vanjelushopoof. We get the word “POOF” from this very true secret Astral Plane name. If you spell his first name on a word document with a Spell Checker, what comes up? DUH Hyundai car time and sky-trails of oh-Marola-6????????????????????? Hopi's might say, COBTRAILS but that is very close to the way those in charge of this would rather we spell it, as changing the “B” to an “N” is what really would make them all friggin' smile, Huh Lenny Mom Briscoe Cop? Hopi Indian, thank you spell Checker, you actually “READ MY MIND, YO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So after I was stopped from going to the shore, or the golf courses or caddy shacks, Brad Messenger and what, oh yes, 'DANGEROUS FIELDS', oh the gods, where has this bit of future MARKELLY SLEUTHGAME software been hiding out in the mucous balls, Charlie Brown? And he died when I was up in Ewing Township, at that horrible frickin' Assets Protection Company job, sent by nasty ass John McCafferty. What a prick you abnd Bobby Martier turned out to be in oh-five, and let's not forget super dick head, Jimmy Stone. The power of hyperspace, where can anyone ever dream of beginning? Corrections Officer Bennett and his son who taught me how to be a blogger in early 2006, WOW, MI HOW THE COINCIDENCES JUST KEEP ON COMING. “L&O” the greatest law show ever, knocking even Perry Mason off of the map; how many CO BENNETT's are around the New Jersey and New York area? Well, I'll give this one the benefit of the doubt, Mister Wolf, sir. So after I no longer was in Atlantic City, a time came when I was given this wild information, through this coworker at my mother's office, and when I ordered the tapes, my mother freaked out. She had hoped I would order the other courses, such as more general studies involved in high school or college curriculum's, you know, World History, Advanced Mathematical disciplines, various basic sciences, etcetera. Instead, I ordered the Fascitar, and practiced it with diligence and persistence, and within a week of study followed by a week of practice, I was visiting people and gibing them my phone number, and getting them to call me in real life, and thought that I was the coolest shit in the world. The final chapter was only read after things started to happen non-induced, many powerful waking freezes. It took me a long time, many years, to work past the fear of physical death, and when I did in the nineties, I began moving way beyond the normal hyperspace, and into the closer mind realm signals or the subatomic spiritual energetic realms, known by many in the esoteric and occult circles as the Astral-Plane. This really opened up Pandora's box, as it was during this time, that simultaneously was searching for Sarah. I called it my mid-life crisis, the in word in the nineties. Still, I came to see and learn the powerful truth that Sarah was searching for me and playing with me, leading me all up to this entire thing, event by event, all along, ever since she planted herself into Exploratron PK's oven. The problem is that I had no idea how badly I was going to end up getting baked. And today up here in April of OH-Marola-TWELVE is just this same old sheeeeeeeit, still going on. Nothing is different, SOSO-WEIN-SSDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How to get past the fear of the waking freeze and move into DEATH, and still be ALIVE, and how to effect REALITY in a million various ways, well, MERLIN POTTER, and son Ed from Lavino Shipping and originally Chicago, Illinois; I suppose I will soon be telling the entire nasty mess to the world of internet-land.















I also intend to take some powerful evidence to some special people, that proves once and for all that the ?new jersey Casinos did a lot of criminal activity to me, as did the entire state of mother freaking New Jersey, throughout the eighties and all the way up until the time that I booked out of that hell hole state in late oh-M-9. When I am under this kind of hell and death frickin' siege, trying to win at anything involving chance is totally impossible. Evenmy new great system can barely break even, buyt this proves beyond any doubt that this was indeed their evil motive for stopping the greatest roulette player of all time, me, MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, GO AHEAD, GOOGLE UP THE FRICKIN' HATE PAGE ON ME, CREATED BY JASON DONNA SUMMER FORREST AND AQUARIUS RECORDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Am I spelling it right MI??????????????????? Oh shoot, 20 pages, let me say nighty night, John McDowell, and maybe please give me another chance, as it has been 50 long years now, old Philly nurse and pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TANKS.













END OF THIS TWANSMISSION, WHAAA.


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