SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0456
KING
CURSEDBYSATAN BABYLONIAN NEW SHOES
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
061612.006, STARTING SATURDAY MORNING
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-FOUNDATION
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“TWO
WASTED LIVES, CURSED BY HUNTINGTON-SATAN”
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR
©
2006-2012 MWM/MWM/MF-2/BOM
SWORN
VOLUNTARY OATH AND LEGAL DYING UTTERANCE.
WE
ALL ARE DYING FROM THE MILLISECOND WE'RE BORN.
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
I
tried very mother fucking hard to get out of this building and move.
Everything that I mother fucking did failed totally and miserably.
You cannot fight the HUNTINGTON CURSE. My cunt lapping miserable
neighbors are making my life hell and all I can think about now is
how I can fucking cunt commit suicide, but there is no way, not with
the mother fucking cock sucking world Laboratories up in the dirt
ball future, scanning back before I do it, making a digital copy, and
popping into a time just past where I commit the deed, and send a
disintegration signal simultaneously to the dead body that was me
before I offed myself. You can see the shit ass nightmare hell I'm in
folks. For the scoffers, fine, you go cunt lapping back 400 years,
and start telling about jet travel across the globe in hours, going
to the fucking moon, internet, other global communications, the
personal computer, the modern medical breakthroughs, and on and on we
could go here, and you all fucking know I speak the fucking truth,
and you know they would call you either crazy, bewitched, or both,
and you would end up tossed into a tower room or a sanitarium
forever. Laugh all you want at me mother fuckers, THIS IS ALL REAL. I
CANNOT DIE, AND ESCAPE THIS, AND IT IS BEYOND HORRENDOUS; AND I AM
STUCK FOR 19 MORE YEARS, IN THIS HELLISH GAME, THAT LITERALLY IS
UNFATHOMABLE, AND INDESCRIBABLE; WITH ANY NORMAL ENGLISH DICTION AND
VOCABULARY.
Shall
we move this fucking bull-shit nightmare tale of woe times ten to the
exponential value of a thousand, onward???
I
AM NOT ALLOWED TO MOVE, BREATHE, HAVE ANY FREEDOM TO OPERATE AT ALL
OR DO ANYTHING WHATSOEVER, UNLESS I AGREE TO BEINGMAJOR HARASSED AND
PERSECUTED. As soon as I fucking posted a few things from my YOU-TUBE
CHANNEL up onto my blog websites earlier, within one minute of
shutting down my mother fucking computer, all of DOGTOWN, or you
would say, HELL, broke fucking loose. All of my neighbors began
slamming doors and playing loud music, and this went on for an hour
or so, and then it stopped, all of it, in the spookiest way you could
mother fucking imagine., One minute of silence passed. THEN BOOM and
dogfood consumption with car dings, the phone rings. All I can tell
you is just a few things, nothing more than that peeps, so try and do
an Annie Wilson's mother with me, and be somewhat understanding of my
unspeakable fucking eternal plight of ultra horror and terror,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All my plans to get out of
the building in two months, went up in smoke. You only need to know
this much, along with some weekend plans, just POOF, but so
dependable as always, just like Merlin the Wizard. Oh well, at least
I don't have to infuse the double bubble potential situation here, in
with any lizard, or blizzard since Florida has no weather that is
conducive for bad snow, and all though it is literally infested with
car insurance dirt bag salespersons, posing as gecko's, from the git
bag General Insurance company, or GEICO, I rarely run into them by
staying indoors a lot, keeping the place sprayed and clean, and when
I do go out, I stay as far away from shrubbery as possible, as these
twisted little stinky runny worms have an affinity with this over the
area of the asphalt jungles. No folks, this HC will not allow me to
ever live any kind of a life, or do anything at all. A few things
amaze me, and smart folks know what I am not saying for my own good,
but that yes, this has been Gottwald Permitted or GP to go this far
without my being literally thrown into the pit of fire and nuke
fusion. There is no way my neighbors are all speed reading through my
post ups, and can all get together and begin an organized and
intelligently launched unified assalt against me, the way that all
went down late last fucking cunt evening. Yet it did. This is called,
the OPEN REEL MY SYNDROME or for short, the ORMS, and it's nice and
easily pronounced in s a shortened abbreviation, as well, peeps, YO.
What is ORMS. Well, besides the greatest female recording artist on
Planet Earth all ready totally knowing what it is, and me, I am not
sure who else really has much of a clue. In fact, speaking for
myself, I may have a clue, but that is all. Really, how could I
magically write song lyrics in STM, (Space-Time-Mind), that make so
much sense, back in 1983, such as with the tune called, “657-BLUES”,
that go, “Nineteen years have come and gone, and all that's left is
our sweet song”? Hay, maybe I really did think I knew most
everything, until SHE showed me the songs we'd sing. Who can really
know, quantum waves, breath echos, or perhaps seventh dimensional
circuitry that lays so mysteriously and dauntingly, above the sixth
dimension of MIND? Go ahead Einstein, just tell me that one James T.
Gloucester Burr, with or without your star-ships or other fantasies.
I have a very special message for the great and wonderful Leticia
Tilley of EHCNJUSAESMWG, “HAY GIRL, I'll tell you
anything”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What does
the freaking United States copyright Office have to say about that
one, Miss AT&T Blake, YO?????????????? DUH!!!!!
Let
me tell you a little something, since I promised to tell you
anything, broken rudders, and stopping and going at various speeds,
and all. THIS ENTIRE WASHCLOTH FAMILY %*&%$%$**$^$* and
%*(&@%!@$@%#^(+*% and $%^&^#&.
Now
that has been said, let me move this along again good peeps of Planet
butt-wipe Earth, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
have never asked for any of this. All I ever wanted was to live a
normal average life. There are folks out here who think that they
know me real well, AND DON'T KNOW MOTHER FUCKING JACK SQUAT DICK
SLOPPY about me, that will shout out that I enjoy ranting on, and
enjoy living a tempestuous life filled with intrigue and mystery, and
wild crazy unsolved bull-shit. This proves one thing, world. These
folks saying and spewing this all over the internet, do not know a
thing about me, and can all go straight to mother fucking cunt eating
hell at the speed of light cubed, cubed, and
cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eat me Ray Bailey,
Eat me April, Eat me all of you, beat me, fleece me, grease me, BG
me, and McKinnon me, if you all so insist upon doing so relentlessly,
MISTER HOWARD SOLOMON AND RIAA AND OTHERS; YO; but I'll say this in
my own dam defense, YO!!!!!!
IN
MACY'S WINDOW NEXT X-MAS EVE, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH MY ASS,
THAT IS FIRST. SECOND, IF IT TAKES ME A QUATORADECILLION FUCKING
CENTURIES, I WILL FIND A WAY TO EXACT MY REVENGE, AND PUT EVERY ONE
OF FUCKING YOU THAT IS BEHIND MY MISERY, IN 1000 TIMES MY PAIN AND
AGONY FOR A TRILLION TIMES LONGER, AND FINALLY, THIRD, GO BACK TO
NUMBER ONE AND JUST KEEP LOOPING THIS CYCLE, WITH OR WITHOUT ANY
DAVID ROTH'S OR WILLIAMSTOWN, NEW JERSEY HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS. Cheer
up Kirsty Ass Hole Alley toothfairy Robber!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
for the good stuff. The REALLY
good
stuff, folks.
I
hinted at a few things, but the attack tonight and beyond that ruined
a lot of long made plans, AND AS USUAL, or SOSO-WEIN-SSDD, this has
provoked fucking me to take some more serious fucking ass action.
Yes, I stopped my LIFE JOURNAL ON CASSETTE TAPE IN THE SUMMER TIME IN
1997, but it became MORIANITY'S NEW TESTAMENT. The old one was
written in late 1995 and into early 1996, containing about 63 or so,
C-90 CASSETTE TAPES. Now the corresponding tape numbers of the Life
Journal, got as high as into the low 13 thousands, and each side, A
and B was a number, so the actual tapes were less than 7,000. When
the blogs are added, if the quanta waves had a reality where this was
read onto tape, it would climb higher, even though the actual Life
Journal cassette tapes were all lost along with everything else, when
the great mighty, 'THAT WASHCLOTH FAMILY OF 1970', did me in, in 2008
and 2009; and looking back, it is so clear and plain to see that this
was all a part of SCYLLA'S PLAN, but this incorporated way more than
I could humanly have ever been privy to, in any real waking world
conscious-mind type of way. Sagan, Einstein, and Hawking, all
combined; would not have been able to see this fucking shit, all
coming, and SCYLLA knew this; HER great wisdom and omniscience next
to human mind receptive signal off of the D-6, would be like
comparing one drop of water, with an ocean the size of the known
universe, and this times a googleplex. So there is no cut on me for
not seeing this racing down the highway at me at the speed of
exploratronics. Oh well, at least the scientific community is finally
taking some of my shit in my fictional book that is not really
fictional, seriously, I speak of course of the 1994 copyrighted book,
called, “THE PERMISSION BARRIER”. But let me not stray too far
away from the point of the real quantum entanglement situation
involved, and that is part of the ever ongoing process of my 1986
parallel event and my casino gambling, and my applying this
technology to the game called Roulette, and winning consistently, as
a result, until the HUNTINGTON CURSE, WAS TRIPLED AGAINST ME. Not
one, but three of Jesus' Gethsemane Garden Cups, were thrown at me,
along with Paula King's Incollingo Poison Yellow Transdimensional
cupcakes, following my head on fatal automobile collision, all
described in perfect detail with nothing left out, back in blogs from
the first two years, and before my SKE (Stockholm Kidnapping
Experience), Roger Basketboat. Folks, it really gets no simpler. Both
A and B events attract their opposing counter entity with equal
force. If I had kept on reporting onto cassette tape, my hellish
life, caused by this horrendous Huntington Curse, after the summer
time in the year of 1997, when I terminated my journal, and desisted
from this activity,the Dow Jones that had been closely following the
tape number in point value, simply because the WOMO was providing a
precise amount of harassment and persecution on me, so that the tapes
would keep climbing in value number, and since that event followed
for a solid decade of time, the approximate point value in the blue
chip DJIA stock index, they kept doing this. Now if they totally
broke off the terrifying obliteration of my humanity and physical
life, the DJIA would sink and tank, forever. If I suddenly started up
the journal again on cassette tape, the markets would go through the
roof, endlessly matching the number of my journal cassette tapes. The
New Jersey fucking casinos, as well as Donald dickhead Trump, know
this 100%, and very personally. They would tell you, should you be
ever able to capture any of them, and give a truth serum to them,
such as Sodium Pentothol, not recognized in any spelling by the
sanitized Microsucks Spell-Checker system, and I can see why, huh pal
Alex Jones; but they will admit under heavy truth trance, that I
gambled in their New Jersey casinos in the eighties, and became a
real threat to them in 1986 when I applied the powerful knowledge of
PARALLEL-EVENT to the one game that they have that is very conducive
for using APE (Applied Parallel Event). I swear to all of this under
full penalty of libel and perjury charges. But who out here is a big
ass fool, enough to entertain the belief or notion for two little ass
seconds, that out of many many possible years of time, 1986 was both
when I accomplished a dead of such humongous and unfathomable
proportions in a 2000 year old family Morgan Collins lottery curse,
and BROKE IT; and also ran into a lovely curly haired teenager, and
nicknamed her MI or MY, whatever and however you may wish to spell
it, when my pal David and I took a road trip up north one night into
New york City, so he could go see his music group pals, called, “New
Shoes”??????? Something one of the great IMPERIALS said to me in
Atlantic City, when drunk as hell and I'll admit it, but why come up
to me out of a million peeps in the great world famous Atlantic City,
needs to come out, as Lieutenant Van Buren the great, from the
greatest law television show of all time, “L&O” said upon a
few occasions; 'RIGHT HERE, AND RIGHT NOW'!!!!!!!!!!!! This short
fellow sang one of his songs to me outside the Trump Taj, I knew who
he was, nobody could fake the voice and the face that perfectly, hell
my samplers can do a voice, but a face, wow, so let me tell the world
what he may or may not remember saying to me. He took my arm gently
and moved us to an area where no one was around, and it was late and
dark, other than for the glittering lights and booming sounds and man
made stars such as himself; and he told me that he and his wife had a
big blow out upstairs, and that he knew me, and that if I would take
him to his club in Manhattan, he would rock my world by telling me a
huge secret that the world of the RIAA is covertly buzzing about at
the top. I never took him and just found a way to lose him, and I
drove home, back to my rented house in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, on
route 561, owned by Misses Meeker. In retrospect and hindsight, what
else could he have meant, other than six years or so ago, it was my
daughter who I had met near his club. What, I was born at night, just
not last night, well, that is a lie folks, I was born at 9:30 in the
morning light, not 12 hours later, like my wonderful Princess was, on
the last day of 1948. You offend me Jason, that you would do all of
this, in the name of the great Donna Summer, you turd. Bite it off,
BRO.
In
a final topic folks, this blog is not going as planned, just as my
life is not as well. The minute you plan anything, the quantum foam
is immediately a part of the equation. Playing roulette for many
years, was a far greater educator for me, than a team of think-tank
science peeps in any university ever could have been, in the field of
QM, as lab science and street science differ as day and night. QM as
a matter of fact, is the one discipline out of all of them, that
recognizes that particular truth infinitely more than any of the
other disciplines of the scientific world all combined could ever
hope to do.
I
cannot believe how SSJK has played this mind bending game with me now
for 50 months or so. In truth, SHE is one very bored and wild young
teen goddess. Being endlessly 16 years old must be one heck of a
surfboard ride, no matter how Diana's friend wants me to lug the
thing around on middle April spring days, such as in 2001, HAL. Those
folks that do study the mind science, the human brain, whatever; have
many ideas of the behaviors of the subconscious. I know one thing
that is not explainable. Tiny as my view amounts are on my You Tube
channel, the highest views, don't contain just the song, but an
opening. It is not the opening for its own sake or what is contained
in it, that is making the views higher, verses the others. If you
average it all out, the three with the opening, verses the other
posts without them, the counts are two or more to one. If peeps
consciously knew what was happening, they'd be viral, but it still
proves a lot of stuff to me about how the powerful non-normally
conscious mind does indeed operate with such magical efficiency, in
parallel realms. Remember, that what the mind doctors think of as
dreams, is just conscious mind, in a parallel setting, speaking in
the atomic sense. This is all exploratronics is all about, no more,
and certainly never any less.
Well
Jane Bitchweeds Twistedisease Oneslover, again, I friggin' find
myself looking at four freaking 'ones'. I am on page eleven of
eleven, on my frikkin' word document open office system. So folks, I
will need to freaking compensate, won't I, YO?????????????????
55555555555555555555555
plus 5555555555555 times 5555555555555 divided by 5555555555 is equal
to, who GIVES a RATS
ass!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION FOLKS, WHAAAAAA.
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