SAFE JOURNAL, KING NEB, CH. 0446

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0446

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

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I AM UNDER A HEAVY DEATH SIEGE BY THE WOMO MILITUFORCE SCUM BAG ENEMIES OF MINE. YESTERDAY, THE CHEMTRAILING AROUND MY FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA AREA WERE MONSTROUS AND HORRENDOUS. TODAY STARTING BEFORE FIVE THIS MORNING, CAME LOUD SHOUTING IN THE HALLS, AND THEN IS BEING FOLLOWED BY ALL DAY DOOR SLAMMING. THESE MOTHER FUCKIING JERK OFFS ARE THE MOST SICK, UNCOUTH, TWISTED COCK SUCKERS, THAT I HAVE EVER FORCED TO BE NEIGHBORS WITH, AND THESE DISEASED FILTH BAGS HAVE INFESTRED ME WITH THEIR ROACHES AS WELL, AND THE BUILDING MANAGEMENT AND MAINTENANCE WON'T DO SQUAT. MY LETTER TO THE PROPER AUTHORITIES ARE ALL INH THE UNITED STATES MAIL SYSTEM.

I will do a little RAT-TAT-REAL FOOTBALL COUNTERSTRIKING NOW FOR THIS TWO DAY SIEGE THAT IS PROGRESSING HOUR BY HOUR.

YOU WANT A WAR WITH ME CUNT APPERS, THEN FINE, EVEN IF IT TAKES US BEYOND OTHERWISE NORMALLY EXISTING BLOG LIMITS.

Just because I let myself get blown out of my paper roulette with the last huge siege, does not mean that I had to. If I only worked my systems on the one fourth of the days and times annually, say 90 days out of the year, I could retire in three years with millions, and live on the mother fucking Riviera. On top of that, the way my system for creating CARDDECKS for predictability ratings, has not only changed around somewhat, quite painstakingly, as it took a very long time to bring the many games I played in Jersey on paper down here with me, and rework the math on them based on this, as well as play many new ones, but I have slightly altered some fundamental components in the way these decks are tested at times such as these, and making this a shortened story that would otherwise take all day to begin telling, I can now take advantage of what I used to blog about around 2007 quite a lot, before the days of the great GAMES EXPERT, and Maintenance Man who appeared with his partner in an exploratronic visit at another residence that was quite famous for being heavily exploratronic for me while I was in my adolescent years, in Oaklyn, New Jersey. This being folks, white matter space and black matter space, card responses to my queries. These queries are basically asking if I should bet, using a separate carddeck to provide the random numbers in a simulated game of Casino roulette; one of the six 'outside bets' for an odd number amount of times, normally either 3,5,7, or 9 times, and the green house advantage numbers of the zero and the double zero, for purposes of this testing, were moot as those cards were removed from the deck entirely after receiving my test answer of YES or NO, when for example I would say, should I pay “BLACK” to win on my next 7 spins? Now as with stock options, this system had a very similar operation. You would lose in real life if you could not get a carddeck to become predictable over long run times, and by that I refer to being out of a neutral range, the 40-60 percent in most cases. This percentage is based on accuracy. There are three stages that are called neutral break outs or NBO's. The 60-70 or 40-30 is BOS-1 or BREAK-OUT-STAGE 1. The 70-80 or 30-20 is BOS-2. The over 80% or under 20% is BOS 3. As in stock options, you merely want the percentage to be in higher and lower ranges and not hovering around the neutral and worthless range. BOS 1 is where I normally am lucky to get or keep for a while, any CARDDECK. BOS 1 can offer a small advantage, but I would never want to use it in high stakes roulette games. I at least need a deck in the range of BOS 2 in order for me to want to trust using it in actual non-paper casino games. Naturally, hoping for a deck to live a while in a BOS 3, is like hoping to hit a lottery jackpot, it theoretically CAN happen, but WILL IT EVER? These tests proved to me back earlier in this 21^st century, that hyperspace is real, containing virtually unlimited parallel universes, and that if we only lived in one, the cosmos has an intense desire to reward seekers of quests, with wisdom and answers. These answers would be 100% precise if we lived in one single reality. But while you or I would be asking questions of a deck of otherwise normal playing cards, so are countless other doubles of ourselves also doing this very same thing, in countless localized parallel universe realities. This therefore takes what would be perfect answers every time, and it shuffles them up into randoms, in any one individual reality where these questions are asked and answered. The cosmos uses the cards to properly address the seeker in the very optimized and maximum best that it can, but it is always fighting this transdimensional hyperspace effect, or just 'HSE' for short. As for the other reality backed up by powerful mathematical equations over the past half century, give or take a few years; one half exactly of these universes where are asking the same questions of the same deck of playing cards, are in matter universes or (white space), while the other half are in antimatter universes or (black space). Now in truth, this color coding is relative, as wherever we exist, to us time runs forward, and would be thought of to us as a matter universe or WHITE DIRECTION. The opposite, to us, no matter who and where, would be thought of by our reference and perception, as BLACK DIRECTION. Now the out of neutral range percentage anwers on these cards of 60-100 is merely called white space response, while the 0-40 is called black space response. With the white-space answers, you would always list them as they come out, as incorrect, yet you would actually reverse them in actual play, so if you had a carddeck of 37.48%, you are receiving responses from this deck to your queries, in black-space response, and at a rate of 12.52%. 50-12.52 equals 37.48. Concentrically, if the deck was providing responses at the level of 62.52%, you are now receiving responses from this deck to your queries, in white-space response, also at a rate of 12.52%. Again 50+a2.52 equals 62,52%. This would be slightly into the range, either way of BOS-1, one would be in white matter and the other in black matter space. Now the white-matter space answers need not be reversed. If your query to the cards was, should I bed EVEN on my next 5 spins to win? The cards at the 62.52% range would be answered AS IS. If they tell you NO, you would bet ODD instead. However, if the cards were at the 37.48% range, and they told you NO, you would reverse all black matter answers, so NO would be reversed into YES, so you indeed would bet EVEN on 5 spins of non-green outcomes, at your next chosen roulette gaming wheel. You always need to play and ask about an odd amount of spins, normally either 3,5,7, or 9, and that way, it has the 50/50 chance to be correct either way, and always ask the question TO WIN, don't further confuse the issue of this prediction process. Your goal is to get a deck of playing cards to become 'RANGED', or out of the neutral zone as far as possible. The more out or RANGED, the more valuable your CARDDECK is. If you had an 80+ or a 20- deck, you would be able to do a lot of powerful stuff, until the deck began to eventually suffer the fate of all transdimensional reality, and start neutralizing itself and re-approaching the 50% parity level. Now this basic lesson in SO-NON-ART, or in Accuracy Rating Testing of “SAME-ODDS” card prediction tests, is needed to tell you about how I once did not know all this, and in 1985, had a 'sort of deck', it was more like a series of wild machines, but on it were running these similar SO-NON-ART tests, and I had a condition of a major running RANGE, and it was in the negative, so I just ignored it, never realizing that this was response from antimatter doppelganger testing and the hyperspace effects involved in the event, and that all I needed to do was ask anything that contained 50/50 odds chances, then reverse the answers given, NO into YES, and YES into NO, and I would have had this world by the fucking balls, but I did not yet understand the principles behind all of this as fully as I do now. Now at this very moment, I have a deck out of more than half of a thousand that are being used to record these prediction events; that is just about to go into the BOS-3 level in black matter space or BMS, as opposed to straight non reversal answering WMS. By merely asking a 50/50 question, getting and reversing the YES/NO response answer, and using that information, I am on my way, and without any Tuesday afternoon aquarium trips, or daughters coming along with me.

FOLKS, THIS IS ALL THANKS TO THIS WILD NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE, AND MY BEING ABLE TO REWORK A LOT OF OLD WAYS OF PERFORMING THESE TESTS. SOMETIMES MY WOMOTAMM JUST TAKES THINGS TOO FAR, AND STEPS ON THEIR OWN UGLY TOES!!!!!

But there is always a lot more to any story folks, and I will tell some of it right now. There are half a dozen to a dozen folks alive today, who know totally well, that the owner and controller of this entire multiverse and beyond, is a teenaged girl, or might as well be, and as Dawn-Marie King said a lot, “Is running this show” whether anyone may or may not like this truth. I am involved in all of this only because I was born into a particular family, and whoever would have popped out of my mother, would have gone through this amazing experience, no one had any choice, and the vast majority of peeps do in fact differ greatly with that last part of the sentence, and they have that right to do so, but they would be about as wrong as Hitler's ovens. There a few secrets that are so huge, if I tell, I will be picked up either in my residence or outside, and I'll be taken away, and lost forever. That is how big this all is. So since all my past blogs have told so much and here I still am, you then are left to only imagine and scratch your head until bloody, just what I could possibly know about, and what I could be referring to here on this blog. One has to do with music, the language of the soul, and we are soul, we do not have this supposed 'thing' tucked invisibly aware inside of us somewhere. This spark of our existence is that soul, and the truest language ever spoken to soul, is music. Basically, a combining group of agreeing combinations that alter in a timed repetitive sequence that if done in the smallest way inaccurately, would defeat the purpose of speaking to our true beingness. A stranger told me this one day in 1969, at my school, out in a type of recess yard, and he also told me that if I hummed the tune, whoever heard it would hear it in their sleep all through the following night, and the next day would feel compelled to approach the one singing this tune, and when this is done, they are totally under your spell, for lack of a better word. This is the same person who told me that I had to hypnotize a fellow student by the name of John Zane, from Pennsville, New Jersey, and I did, and it worked, and I nearly got expelled, but other huger things were all part of this. For one, this man I have now come to remember, was the man in the exploratronic experience at the end of 2007 or just past New Years Day in 2008 somewhere, who I have been labeling and calling, the GAMES EXPERT ever since, and directly following that, came the television show out of the blue, called, “THE MENTALIST”, with Patty Jane, as the one doubling as the GAMES EXPERT. If you archive the old blogs from this time era on blogger dot com, and then ever are able to buy the first five or so episodes on their first running year of 2008, you will see a lot of stuff jump out at you, and you need not be a super sleuth. If you don't see the unmissable connections, then you just are not meant to GET IT, and detective work is not for you, hay, build bridges, be a fireman, whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, I fully believe that less than a year ago, out of the blue, TRAVELERS on my side of this fight, accomplished a major feat for my survival and attempt to successfully gather documented evidence that may hopefully, not all go the way of the Lieutenant Sakavich syndrome from Voorhees, New Jersey. This item I am referring to, is the Comcast Cable labeling, of most if not just about all shows on all of their channels. If you press the INFO button, the year it was made and the title of what is being viewed pops up, along with an EPISODE NUMBER. This comes in very handy for me, and I have a list of hundreds of things yet to be discussed on my blogs, with matching TV-CODE-INFO, I will shorten this to TVCI for future reference on future blogs that will be discussing this topic. One thing right now, or two really, was yesterday, 001, I enjoyed the Marathon, and it ran sequentially from its opening, the first five episodes from 3-8 PM yesterday, on TNT-CCC-43-Fort Pierce, FL. Now let me throw this in, as it connects the wipe out of my life in 1986, and the roulette playing by me in Atlantic City at that time, and many other more hidden and covert things, but we will talk a while and start dragging out some of the closet skeletons. The show that begins a new series tomorrow, Wednesday, “Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman”, was on back last Sunday night into Monday morning somewhere, and it was a 2011 documentary he was hosting, EPISODE #7, and was speaking a lot about quantum reality, and tests done in the laboratory regarding just this. Get it folks. It tells what I have been saying since long before I blogged about 001 and other GAMES EXPERTS, TOO LATE DAUGHTERS, and so much more that was all destined to alter my all ready miserable existence into a far worse hell in this is even remotely fathomable peeps. When the subatomic particles would pass through the slits, they would perform some rather strange things, that is, when they knew they were being watched. But take away the observation system, and they knew it every time, and would do other things. This was repeated over and over beyond any chance of being some fluke, and I all ready knew this was all true for two reasons, personal experiences playing roulette in Atlantic City for many years, as well as reading the QM books and studying the formulas involved, myself. But fuck the books and the formulas, let me talk about the times in Atlantic City at the many casinos there, and my Quantum Roulette.

It would take too long to explain the math formulas, and tell the many miniscule and intricate details, but I came to see as clear and plain as noon day, that there were times where I may have indeed lost on a bet that I placed on the “RED” area of the gaming layout, but knew and would have bet the farm and the cornfield and the baseball players, and Annie's dreamy ass; that if I could go back one minute in time, and instead bet “BLACK”, that it also WOULD HAVE LOST, and it would not have mattered what I had bet on, it was the two events of my losing the bet, and thus the ball coming out on the opposite slot of where I had placed my chip, that was in cosmic play. One day, after I had been experiencing a lot of exploratrons who had entered my universe and said and did some really wild and outlandish stuff near me, around me, and even directly to me, at casinos from time to time; I was approached by a strange short African-American male, who told me that he was Little Anthony of the famous Imperials, and even sang to me and I know his voice and it was him, and he said a lot of things to me in a conversation out on the streets just outside of the Trump Taj in Atlantic City, of which only some of it has as of yet been blogged. It was 1993, and only because I think I am being set up all over again, am I not going to expand further on some wild stuff that went down before I was able to get away from him, and yes, he was loaded like a dish tank. I will tell a few things for future sleuths that may enjoy working my wild case in secret; but I must not tell about all the travelers that I know are involved. I will say, that maybe the Donald knows this and maybe he does not, but you have three travelers in your mastermind team, old buddy, you had four, and whether it was you or it was Maggie that made certain bad things happen right after I first met the Camden County Prosecutor; now you have three, and you will have one after two retire soon, so if this assists you, great, but I think you all ready not only know all this, but are part of it, after-all, pal, you used me to bring you here, and you even had your pal use the machine that did just that, in the booming sounds movie that crushes all castles, even the ones Patty Jane can make so beautifully on the freaking beach. Somebody told me something last night that was way too powerful to ever be blogged, crossing way too many blog limit barriers for my safely avoiding Buzz Island and Jason Forrest 'other tapes'. Just to prove this is true and those reading are carefully looking to see if this is a fake; yet are sweating blood bullets that I don't come right out with any of this as the markets would tumble ten thousand points in the next few months if I did, but I know that unlike King Horn, and not Lina, this is a matter of being wronged a lot greater than I was in 2008/2009 with the total destruction of my life. Also, it seems to prove that history repeats itself, as with my tapes being endlessly placed in the hands of the waking world Lambrigger Society. Have I said enough without saying too much, WOMO? Well, besides all this, a year or two or so later, along comes Friendly Restaurant, the theft of my automobile contents, major damage, illegal break-ins, and police corruption and coverups, along with complicit garbage Friendly, on route One in northeast Philly-57, just shy of the exit for Street road and the racetrack, huh Giant Girl Society? 'WOW'!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeese Louise, SF. Hang 10.

We were but ten, or hang ten, or 10 Essee Avenue, or 'whatever' Congressman old pal from 1975; I am not stupid Mister Sixteen-Letter, and I knew that all odds were that he moved from Oak Street where he lived as a boy, in HHNJUSAESMWG.

WHAT A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT.

This entire world blows, but no matter how it all ends up playing out, in or out of any Advanced Robotics classes; I know what I know, and only that, no more, and no less, nor did I ever claim anything to the freaking contrary. Anyone spreading these rumors about me since Richland Avenue grammar School in 1961, is one great big pile of stinky ass

PIG PUKE, TO THE POWER OF 9.

LET ME EXPLAIN A FEW THINGS THAT ATRE GOING ON AROUND ME AND WHY I MADE THIS RATHER VULGAR STATEMENT ON THIS BLOG, WITH FULL INTENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Somebody started a rumor in town, that I deliver pizza. I have never ever, despite having a hell of a lot of crazy weird jobs in my nearly 58 years of life as the current me on this Earth, delivered pizza. The closest that I came to this, was while living with my daughter's very distant cousins back in New Jersey, Dawn-Marie King's husband, did and still does or so I have been told, works in a local pizzeria. When I was there in 2008 and 2009, for the most part, Chicky or Lois Laines when not using his road-trip 'knickname', come on, a little STC laugh if you will folks; what my kid's the only one who gets to laugh at frekkin' life? Aniwho, he worked on ROUTE 30 or the Julia white horse Pike and route 206, at a mini-mall, at Mario's Pizzeria. The gods, don't bring back those mother fucking days straight out of hells gates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Humpty Dumpty Nasaman will now sign off, you all know my twenty, so ten/four, and no, I will not be plugging my field laser re-penetration vibration hyperbeam into the CB system at the MAF Plant in Camden anymore, so let my friend Lenny McKinnon stay nice and dead. If I knew that Howard pulled what he pulled back then, I would have thrown a totally different pair of dice, and told Malcolm Rosenberg, the Entertainment Attorney, not to PULL the record 'LOST LOVE' off of radio rotation, BANG BANG, huh Ed Green, SHEEEEIT.

Well, nobody can ever say that my lovely wild daughter has not taught me a hell of a lot of secrets, as she sure seems to know more about my life than I ever did, “WOW”.

Here we fucking go again, Jane Diseaseweeds Fonda sleaze. 5555555555555555555555555555555555. This compensates for the damn page eleven of eleven, and again; my seeing four rotten fucking ass ONES on the screen. 55555555555555555.

END TRANSMISSION

SO WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, FOLKS: