SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0433
KING
NEBNOOSHOO ON A SUNDAY HELLIDAY AFTERNOON
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS, AND ME
MORIANITY-FOUNDATION
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“GO
AHEAD, ARCHIVE IT; EVERY MOTHER FUCKING MOTHERS
DAY
IS MADE FUCKING HELL FOR ME BY WOMOTAMM ENEMIES”
052012.663.55555555555555555555555555555
COPYRIGHTED
2016-2012 ALL URL PROPERTY OF MYSELF,
MARK
WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY ©
BEGINNING
OF THIS BLOG:
Folks,
this has been just about the worst mother fucking three day death
siege and total hell that enemies have mother fucking perpetrated
against me, this FRIDAY-SATURDAY-SUNDAY, in many many many twat
licking years, this is a heavy piece of fucking siege. Outside noise
is major, with both ground as well as aerial attacks, I have had my
favorite fucking cock sucking jerk off neighbor-guest EXPLORATRON
ENEMY, starting back on Friday, I have had serious COMPUTER HACKING
and major CIVIL RIGHTS AND HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATIONS done against me,
and the list could read on and on and mother fucking cunt on peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!
I
have a little insight into the why of all of this, as naturally, I do
not just sit here and mother fucking take this pummeling abuse and
assault sitting on my numbed up hands doing nothing. Instead, I talk
to the GAGA-CAT, not the rock star, hell I've had more than my share
of personal troubles with rock stars, cats I can handle with relative
ease. I have written some letters that will be mailed to the Governor
of Florida, and the State Attorney General Non-Breakdown Office as
well, tomorrow or Tuesday, when I get over to the post office to
purchase a few dollars worth of postage. In addition, I was finally
able to make things work and post up my last blog, it was like
fighting Sampson and King Kong at the same time, but I am a
persistent and tenacious fucking human being. If I need to, I will
send a third letter off in a week or so, to the Miami Field Office of
the Federal Bureau of Investigation, (FBI), and send along my entire
URL, hopefully they all ready are monitoring my personal situation.
You see folks, I have no secrets from the authorities. Some of them
are perhaps complicit in illegal activities against me for covert
reasons that you are not permitted to know about, but my hands are
totally fucking clean as a whistle in all of this. No I am not some
saintly choir by little perfect ass angel, and I have done things
that are right along with the Bruce Pennock 1973 conversations, but I
am no horrible monster who targets a person for avarice and
capitalistic swine gains, as many of my enemies are, who apply
constant continual persecution at me in the form of ICPE, or
intentionally Created Parallel Event, as explained so many times
before on so many of my blogs. I wonder where my wonderful Donna is
hiding that music box of hers that she calls Frank Mills. I would
gratefully appreciate it if someone would tell me someday, as maybe I
can retrace the two dollars and restore the great Manhattan Skyline.
In any case, what folks do not know, besides just about everything
that really counts in the cosmos; is that a lot more than just an
address was lost. A lot more than Aquarius records is involved also.
Even a lot more than the great moneymaker in Kali, Jason dick-wad
Forrest. Still, this is always a good beginning, to quote the other
lovely Paula, and yes, I confused the two girls, it was the other
girl who seemed to have some memories of existence in Sahasra Dal
Kanwal, huh MI? God, I thought I was fat, Jase. Moving on, let me
begin things with some kitty cat chatter, as Gawky told me some
interesting answers when I posed some questions via the use of what
else, 36 playing cards, don't hit me again,
please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Haven't I gone through enough? One
of my questions posed to Gawky was,
WHAT
IS WOMO'S PROBLEM WITH ME POSTING SONGS TO BLOGS AND YOUTUBE ACCOUNTS
AND TRYING TO GET MY STORY OUT?
THE
ANSWER WAS GIVEN TO ME, PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER-981.
HERE
ARE JUST SOME OF THE MORE RELAVENT MATCHING ITEMS ON MY LIST FOR
MATCHING THE PCN-981:
Thirty-six,
Stole Mark Mohr's song, Greenline, Find Sarah, Chemtrail, Privecode,
Shellfish, Sarah said, Fort Pierce Florida, and Sarah Krassle took
Her chain back in a dream. There is a dozen other match ups, less
important in my opinion, in my list book.
Here
is another question that I asked the great kitty cat.
WHY
THIS HUGE MOTHER'S DAY SIEGE WITH A SUPER COMPUTER HACK ATTACK?
THE
ANSWER WAS GIVEN TO ME, PCN-253.
HERE
ARE JUST SOME OF THE MORE RELAVENT MATCHING ITEMS ON MY LIST FOR
MATCHING THE PCN-253:
Greatest
fish in the bay, Exploratron, Knock on wood, When 'New Shoes' Group
first appeared in New York City, Viqueen Gang, Black shells, Brand
New Key, Edwin Potter, and connection with song 'Gonna' Get Along
Without You'.
My
final query to the cat with the answers bag, went as follows:
WHAT
IS WITH THIS MAJOR FUCKING 3-DAY HELLIDAY HOLIDAY MOTHER DAY DEATH
SIEGE ATTACK WITH A RUINED FUCKING WEEKEND, MAY 18-20?
THE
ANSWER WAS GIVEN TO ME, PCN-682.
HERE
ARE JUST SOME OF THE MORE RELAVENT MATCHING ITEMS ON MY LIST FOR
MATCHING THE PCN-682:
Queens,
Cancer, Project Bluebook, Moving, Twenty, Beaver, and Tall girl
attack on Atlantic City Beach.
If
I had gone swimming as planned today, the enemy would have put a slew
of giant girls all around me as they did quite often at the Atlantic
City, New Jersey beaches. It is supernatural and you can disbelieve
all you want. I tried to show Billy Harner and Rob Hartley that day,
you can access his old music on his website at www.billyharner.com/
while he still can sing outside the barn, Jesus. In his case it was
not chemtrails, it was Whitneyitis, her voice destroyer was crack,
his is weed. Some others have been adversely effected by the
wonderful phenomenon known as CHEMTRAILS. Anyway and back on point, I
was in Atlantic City taking photo shots of something that never
happened, it was eradicated from the world as in the book story told
by the eminent Doctor Bruce Goldberg, called, “Time Travelers From
Our Future”, as only events as big as World War 2 are kind of hard
to play games with, hay read the dudes book, I'm just an echo man, so
before my youngest daughter torpedo's my ship here and plays her
favorite game, 'Kamikaze', misspelled in many of my blogs from the
past year since that major dreaming interaction or meeting of
exploratronic energies, where she is attending a nice college and is
over sixteen and out of the HF Detention Center, in fact, I don't
think she ever went there in that dimension, I'll move this along,
and keep everyone happy. Getting a major ass whooping by my oldest
daughter was enough for me, 'wow'. Moving on to keep us all more
content; KNOCK ON WOOD, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, that is a direct symbol for
needing good luck, and some enemies of mine in the Jersey cunt
lapping cheating casinos, did not like my blog one bit, it told too
much. The problem is folks, it hasn't even fucking started to tell
shit, and THAT, ROCKDROID, you can take straight to the
McCoy-TD-BANK, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TEE HEE HEE
LILLY MUNSTER, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. FUNNY FUNNY FUNNY SHIELA
FRANLINHAIR, the TEE HEE came out with another “B” at the end, I
caught it and corrected it, I am not a racial person, why would I be,
my family starting with me as as mixed up in more ways than thirty,
than juice in a fucking ass blender. My WOMO enemies think this is
all so funny, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY? Because you fed scum bags
won't lift a finger to help an honest good citizen out of his mess
that he in no way created, or is in any way responsible for. This
family took EVERYTHING FUCKING AWAY FRIOM ME, EVERYTHING, as if you
give a fucking shit huh-Hyundai?
Peeps,
I said it before, and as long as this sick twisted slimy ass disease
keeps on persecuting my poor little ass to death, I'll go right
on saying it, the entire nightmare is all about one thing, and one
thing only, John Denver God Burns, and that of course is:
EXPLORATRONS
EXPLORATRONS
EXPLORATRONS
EXPLORATRONS
AND
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT, I WILL SAY IT ONCE AGAIN MY GOOD FOLKS,
EXPLORATRONS!!!!!!!!!!
I
am the only person on Planet Earth who knows I cannot die, where this
all came from, and has all of these type of answers. All of you will
remain, by your own choice, for a long time yet, in total fucking ass
darkness, don't let me try and twist your arm, I've the physical
strength of a small ass child!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, let
me say this before I close out, BRO. A huge event is right around the
corner in 99% of the localized hyperspace or local and close in
groups of this parallel universe, in so much as events occurring in
similar fashions. I won't tell, but very soon, you will say, Christ
All mighty, he said it man. But for now, I want to speak to my pals
and smiley Ron faces from the code 001.
I
cannot honestly look you in the eye and tell you if I would be
willing to make a legitimate deal. I may want to set a trap yes, but
then again, unlike TV characters that get to live quite luxuriously
at least next to me, after they hear, “That's a wrap, cut, print, a
keeper”, and that sort ODF shit and the studio lights dim out for
the day, and no, NOT FUCKING HACKED UP ODF, but fucking OF, you
fucking hacker bastards, unlike all of you, I am dirt poor, getting
old, and as much as I might want to fuck you bastards to hell and the
gods know it is deserved, I think I could be persuaded to sign enough
documentation that would keep me from reneging on anything, in
exchange for a number with quite a few dam zeros after it. But no, we
will go on playing this game forever, won't we, as you have no shame,
no conscience, no heart, no soul, no humanity whatsoever,
none!!!!!!!! If you ever get any, you can let me know as now, thanks
to Ron Prosecutor Wirtz, at least we have this little thing going,
like DERRRRRRR. Sorry I never said I'm sorry for my tracts, DS, I owe
you big time, and will be talking to you over at Ricktown Manor
shortly. You know the room, the one where your mom reamed me out that
leads to those huge side doors, and you had your hands full with
large dishes of meatballs and spaghetti and sauces. We will talk in
my illusion, later on tonight, meet me there.
I
am now going to eat my dinner and watch a video. The entire world can
burn up in hellfire for all I care. If any of you had to suffer the
way WOMO makes me suffer, relentlessly and monstrously and viciously;
you would want to nuke out the planet just as bad as I do right now,
believe that my friends.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC,
my super machine, you hold the world like a kids toy, with your broom
set to clean. SO CLEAN under CG-18, AND FREAKING
S-----T-----O-----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ENDING
OF THIS
BWOG,
WHAAAA.
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