Monday, May 28, 2012

SAFE JOURNAL, KING NEB, CH. 0439






SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0439

KING NEBNOOSHOO



WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2299

DATFILE: 052912.023







THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES



BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

SENDING OFF MY LETTER TO ERWIN REGARDING HELL-NABES”

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

© MWM/MWM/MF-2/BOM



SWORN VOLUNTARY OATH OF TOTAL TRUTH WITH NO OMISSIONS OR ADDITIONS TO THAT TRUTH, UNDER FULL PENALTIES OF LIBEL AND PERJURY, TO THIS I ATTEST AND AFFIRM SOLEMNLY, UNDER COUNTRY AND ALL MIGHTY GODDESS JEHOVAH (SSJKK).



BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:









At just past midnight, this Tuesday Morning, May the fucking twenty-ninth, my scum bag dirt bag roach neighbors from across the hall began to pour on a siege against me with incredible door slamming. Tomorrow, maybe they somehow know or maybe not, but later not today, but on Wednesday, I am supposed to mail back my report to Erwin on these turds. I intend to mention that the holiday weekend was unexpectedly much quieter than their normal crude behavior, but that beginning just minutes past twelve midnight, actually at seven past, as in the two magical numbers of 12 and 7, such as December 7 and July 12, but yes, this is when they just for no good reason, decided to strike like a tornado at the speed of fucking light. In my report, I remind Erwin that the lease guarantees me protection from persecuting tenants, and that the office manager, Debbie, insists I must call 911, and I feel this is not right under the law and am asking him to check into this for me as well. Right before this huge siege, by about an hour, there were two loud slams as well, nothing like the eight minutes of illegal after midnight attack on me however an hour following this. Still, I had just started a roulette game, and yes, I lost. Still I played over the weekend, and am about even now after this nasty 45 unit loss tonight. The Roulette game seemed to know about the magnetic forces facing me, and yes, it is still going on, another powerful slam right now at 13 minutes shy of one, and YES, I'LL BE DIALING 911 IF THIS DOES NOT FUCKING BREAK OFF BY ONE OF THE FUCKING CLOCK, SO BANK ON A MAJOR SITUATIONMFOLKS, IF THINGS PERSIST, YO. Every single time I get on this computer, without fail, unless no one is at home, at the unit next to me, some electronic device goes on, it is without exception or fail, and also will be reported to Erwin and mailed on Wednesday. This fat slut across the hall has been paid to be behind all of this, and is in league with other enemies all around this area. A couple of days ago, despite ear plugs and head phones on, I jumped out of my skin, when some dirt bag motor bike outside my window, quickly did a major maximum rev up. This is illegal, and I cannot do anything but suffer, and eventually die, and this bitch is still attacking me next door, so get ready 911, in 9 more fucking minutes, for my call. Obviously this is being done for tomorrow's opening hell fucking bell on their twisted diseased scum bag WALL STREET. Even the great Michael Moore Occupy cannot stop this out of control evil, not all the Michael Moore's, all the Alex Jones's, all put together, because this is not a human problem, it is EXPLORATRONIC. For those not being intentionally assaulted and harassed by an organized filthy fucking force, most of you out here that is; using any of my systems to attack the gaming world, will allow you an unlimited income. I need to be sure I am not playing at wrong times; you all have no wrong times. Most likely nothing like what is going on around me, is going on around you, so you need to get on your fucking knees, and thank the fucking gods that you all are you and not me, a suffering chosen HUNTINGTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Now I'll get a little bit of rat-tat-real football retaliation, for this attack late as the holiday weekend ended, and into this new day. My words will only make sense to those following the original blog at the www.blogger.com/ website, before the EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, there were four other blogs with other names. The series of blogs that were called, “RATS, TATS, AND PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL”, is what is being referred to folks. These sieges are nothing more than forces that are organized and need to keep me down and miserable, ENDLESSLY, and have been doing so since my mother fucking cock sucking physical birth as Mark Wayne Mohr. If this was all just imagined, I'd be the luckiest happiest person on the Earth. If all I needed was some meds and couch time with mental health professionals, I'd be on top of the fucking world. I know, and so do the guilty fucking cunt lapping bastards out here doing this to me for nearly 58 years now, that this is real and not just some psychotic fucking ass delusions of persecution and grandeur.



Here is what will be said. I'll go on a bit about the great Lenny McKinnon, and then about the Walsh/Bell invention, originally designed to not just speak in distance, but through hyperspace distance. If the US Copyright Office really honestly doubts my words after all the shit they have and cannot understand, then as the street thugs like to say in our nations' large city, “That's on them”. Originally, two men in this dimension or reality in atomic vibratory signature agreement to one universe in hyperspace, Mr. Alexander Graham Bell, and Mister Walsh, invented what we all now call, the TELEPHONE. Like me, Walsh got screwed, and Bell is the only name known about, just as tons of my stuff, especially music, has been stolen over the past 45 years now since I was a mother fucking teenager. The telephone is a device that connects to speaking voices, well, that WAS the telephone in its original invented state a long time ago, as kids today would give me a blank vacant stare if I said that to their face. Still, I know, and so do older folks, that I speak only the fucking truth. Now let me keep things simple for tonight. The All Mighty even fits a little bit into this for a couple of reasons and not all of this will be explored right now on this blog this morning for reasons of time or the lack thereof. There is a biblical proverb that tells how Jehovah is permitted to keep certain knowledge from humanity, or from 'HER' creation. Forgive my insistence on placing feminine gender on this entity that has no gender, another powerful scripture that most of you know and should know is, “God is spirit and needs to be worshiped in spirit”. In other words, in true form, not male, not female. Still, for me, she has appeared in two incarnations, as a very lovely female entity, and in Her great city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, appears for me as a giant teenage girl. I did not wake up one day a year ago, or ten, or a thousand, or a quadrillion, and decide to make this all up out of skunk sweat or superman capes. This is just what has happened to me. I report the news, and am not the one fucking creating it sheeps. I was in the Eden Garden, this really happened, I was there, and you are not getting the complete story, as over 120 centuries, has just corrupted some of the reality of it all, unfortunately folks. This appearance by Her was done in a way I cannot blog. Also, this rat bag is still going in and out at 17 past one. You can bet their dirt bag stock market will fly up to the stars later today, UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, OH GREAT TOLD YOU SO ARM BREAKER GINA-4. I do not think I have told about this yet, the powerful exploratronic experience that I had a few nights back about being at the DMV, and somebody talking to me and telling me that my password is GINA-4. I may or may not have spoken about this, my life is very fucked up and I cannot recall my near term life all that well, now a long time ago is crystal fucking clear. Let me get back to this bitch across the hall. She is in with all the other noise makers in this area, and they time the persecution and harassment of me in precise ways, SLAM, SLAM, BANG, why won't some fucking jerk off call the fucking police, why does it have to fucking cunt always be me?????????????????????????????????



ALSO, YYYYYYYYYYYYY ARE THINGS OK, AND THEN AFTER A WHILE OR A SHORT BREAK SO TO SPEAK, THE BOTTOM FALLS OUT OF FUCKING ERIC CLAPTON'S SHERIFF BUCKET, YYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??? I can prove this is being done for that dirt bag stock market. I was let go illegally from my AARP job. They originally placed me on a medical leave for 60 days, then they terminate me by mail. Over the phone last week the man said I would be working, now I get my walking papers. I hated these fucking peeps and felt they were nasty ass jerk offs and never tried to work with me at all when the chips were down, even after I worked my ass off for them and did a good job. I won't miss working for this outfit one little fucking bit, Mister President, sir. Still, just watch sheeps, as later at 9 and 10 this morning on the east coast, the Dow Jones will open and fly up nearly a thousand mother fucking points, and on my back, AS ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where did you ever get the fucking idea that things would be all right in the morning light, Donna? To me, the DAWN of a new day is just the greeting of another 24 hours in HELL, and always has been. So why did this song ever get written and recorded, and just how does Walsh and Bell fit in? Well, this will open up literally 1000 book length blogs, along with more about the record promoter Lenny McKinnon, and how he came to be on a CB RADIO. He was not on a CB RADIO, not from this universe. He was shot and killed in 1981, so this came from a parallel universe. BANG BANG SLAM, when I post up this blog, it is 911 telephone time for me, and this shit will get stopped once and for all. THIS IS A MAJOR DEATH SIEGE, AND I KNEW THAT SOMETHING WAS WRONG RIGHT AFTER THE FUCKING CUNT ROULETTE LOSS AT ELEVEN LAST NIGHT, SHEEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Many things are transdimensional, but why, and how, when even Hawking won't take my life seriously? Well, let us be real for a second world. Let us say that 1000 years ago, we had a Hawking. What would he have on a bunch of middle school kids from the year 2012? Accidentally, I got into a really big mess, and this places me way ahead of all the Hawking and Einstein and Sagan folks all put together. But because of this Huntington Curse and my horrendous family problem, things can only proceed one way. It is no different than slowing down time by a million slices right shy of a horrible freeway pile up. You can see and watch the invertible horror show, and know it is going to play out, and yet all the while not be able to do one dam fucking thing to get out of its pathway.











First off, there is the reality of SPACE-TIME-MIND, a formula in six dimensions, that places all of the reality that exists in one neat little package. In this package, lays a fantastic creation, a beyond fathomable void, a mix of toys, and a wild out of control teenager who I know as Sarah-Stacey Krassle, always have, always will. Next, there is a game going on that is not bloggable no matter how badly that these dirt bags choose to scourge me with this monster vicious siege for going on 58 current-me human years. In 1979, I received a telephone call from several people who told me that they do not live in this universe. I was told incredible things, and was shortly introduced to one who told me that if I brought him to life in a way he would show me how to do, he would live here for ten years, and then turn over everything to me, his entire net worth. I believed his lie, and he now lives here, and laughs at me. He even has my daughter laughing at me, and I am not the one who claims to be GOD, she made that claim and it is in a lot of magazines. Delmo Cifaloglio and his evil Long Island family, made sure I would find that magazine by having it right where I would be walking through to perform the duties required of me on the job. Anyone can do anything, if they know basic 1960 radio electronics, and know the truths of STM and how to properly integrate that wisdom into the fabric of basic radio frequency technology. I have been whispering these truths through thousands of back doors for thirty plus years now, and it fell on deaf ears. Lenny, Labber Mi, and many other things, are from a parallel universe. On top of that, we have international calling today. I have transdimensional calling, and I had it yesterday, and a long time ago. You want it world, here it is, all out in the mother fucking open Beaver Cleaver, busted fucking ass car windows and all, Jerry Mathers and Mothers, and daughters!









YOU WANT TOTAL WAR WITH ME, FINE, I WILL GIVE IT TO YOU, BUT WHWEN THE WORLD IS ON FIRE SOON, DON'T CALL ME, AND ASK FOR MY FUCKING HELP ANY OF YOU, because the last laugh I'm planning will happen to not only Icabod Crane, but also to YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, ALL ORDERS, SPECIAL AND GENERAL, SCAN ALL ENEMIES, DESTROY ALL ENEMIES, CG-18, G-901, G-189, UNDER G-1133, AND S-T-O-P!!!!!!!!



END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:

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