SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0473
KING
NEBNOOSHOO-PCN-514
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
STARTING
BLOG:
The
PRIVECODE machine started many of the major things that these blogs
discuss and have been since the great OH-6 start of the blogs, beware
Jason, great king of the nineties cassette collectors. I hoked it up
to my landline telephone at 134 Norris Avenue in Atco, New Jersey,
USAESMWG, on February the first, in 1983. This started most
everything, who is kidding who here, Moves Chuck?????????????????????
A dense child can see the entire mess, if they took the normal world
blinders off of their face for about twenty god dam seconds.
I
talked on many older blogs before the new blogs began on the blogger
dot com site earlier this year or late last year, my memory sucks
these days, and this is a good thing, as I don't have a lot of
fucking shit that I really wanna' remember, hello. Discussing time
travel seriously and intelligently, is a lot more politically correct
in the second decade of the 21st, than ever before in
known history in the present IAC. Still, way before it was PC, or the
power of choice, poison cigarette trickery from 506 Thief In Hell,
AKA Robin Hill, back in the spring ass time of 1984; and on and on, I
was not afraid to tell peeps things that were happening to me in the
past from that point, as well as in the present, now the seemingly
distant past, 28-32 years or so back or in around there some place,
YO. When I first escaped my SSKE or (Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapping
Experience), and arrived in Florida on the eleventh day of December
in Oh-Marola-9, who knew so much except for you oh great educator,
but then maybe it was you all along who DID know most everything,
after all, forcing me to do that school play on May 30th
in 1969, altered the major events of this planet, oh wise Swami, but
when I got here, it was only six months later, that the real fun for
the WOMO began, and they had this dog ass shit long planned from long
ago, SOB McCoy Pierce, and lots of mother fucking folks out here are
beginning to see things, well, not so much Franky's way, but more
mine, to be quite blunt, Somerdale Snotsy. This is when I moved from
the RV to the HOOD of 26th and certainly NOT Easy Street,
unless we remove the 'asy', and get real boomer-anal about it all,
YO. Right away, I took a major attack on the South Beach right near
where Mikey lives, only I had just met him a few days ago, back then,
and had no new shoe clue, that he lived right there, hm. For those
that do not believe in the supernatural, let me disillusion your
fucking ass right here, and right now, with major news, Lieutenant
AVB, at the risk of receiving some corporal punishment and a brand
new general breakdown, huh SSA Office, and the other PD of
Harrah-Sarah land. Now that all the stair chases, and non funny
laughs are out of the way, let me get serious and definitely NOT fall
in love with any part of this evil sinful and mind crippled world.
The gods take pity on me. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeit, like that's gonna' ever
frickin' ass happen, YO. The last two times that I went to South
Beach in Fort Pierce, were disastrous, with monster ass assaults and
attacks from an invisible enemy, well, not totally invisible, not
with huge chemtrails that come out of a clear blue sky right fucking
cunt at me, and huge crash level flying weird military choppers right
over me in the ocean, low enough to be able to see the pimples on
faces of the dudes inside the thing. Yes, the last time I went there
in 2011, and the first time in 2012, I got fucking pummeled, and nuke
bombed, as well as major persecuted, violated, robbed, and
victimized, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But that time when I lived up
in the fucking hood, I was clocked with giant aggressive young
females, it was disgusting, to quote my lovely wonderful treadmill
goddess. Oh I remember the sneakers real well, it took three hang
mirror trees to forget that. WOW. Still, back to my whittle story
folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA. Don't be mad, the stairs were worse, come on.
AHA. Aniwho folks, when I returned home and ate dinner, I decided to
retire early and crash out. The second I hit the pillow, nymphs,
whatever these things really are, came all over me and messed with me
a lot more than anything on the Flatliners Movie with Sutherland,
Bacon, and lovely ass Julia. I have been slammed against high wall
air conditioning units back in 1976, and I could go on with a real
big laundry list of shit, don't anybody tell me that SOMETHING beyond
the fucking cunt physical world, IS NOT GOING ON, or I'll vomit down
your stinking esophagus, YO. When someone has been targeted by this
'other world'; the last thing any of us need is to be scoffed at and
fucking disbelieved. Screw you. You want me to get into it 001, fine,
let's play, pal, no cheating, and no hand throws, please DOT (Days of
Thaxton), with or without Gomer 1st Class Pyle Avenue of
Westmont, in 260 years. Keep it going Donna, WOW, this has been a
cycle nightmare for me that is beyond surreal, awesome, and
unfathomable cubed. Nobody anywhere ever got that machine, why? Does
the great phone company giant have that powerful knowledge all socked
away someplace with lots of other Norris Avenue moves, or medical
offices, Judge??????????????? MO, Medical Office, Milituforce
Otammites, and other big mama's, well, however we examine this broken
down equation, I remind all of my readers, that I discussed
repeatedly, how science conventions have their parades every few
years, and just what they use for their great endless confetti. WOW,
yes sir, yes mahm, last year's science journals and books, gee,
really? I never. Well let's not start lying after all this time
blogging, my first I used to say was Joanna, but then, I never
DREAMED I would be telling the most gigantic secrets of all times,
not yet, back in 2006 when I began the Morianity Old Testament, at
the Blogger Dot Com website, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
How
much does American Telephone and Telegraph Corporation know about me,
or said perhaps better, what century did they, or the real owners of
this deal, all plan this great game to begin. If we can believe the
other great Julia who did not flatline in any known movies, I believe
Russ Walker of The Permission Barrier book from late 1994, says fifty
million years, and t this day, I know that it does not matter what
direction this is running from and into. Why am I so important to
these fucking bastards, that ROCKDROID, is the real energy equals
mass times light velocity squared, YO. I do not trust county, state,
federal, and most especially, local authorities, from here to here. I
can show you this distance right on this dam blog folks. It would
appear like this, from | to | there. Dig peeps? Bob Patterson knew
lots of these type of secrets, but the bigger one was about the NJ
State Police, his personal pal, the Harrah Dispatcher, in 1984. We
won't touch 1984 tonight, I could, and I could do a lot worse, like
really start some shit, but I'm not gonna' because I have freaking
integrity, and my word means something to me, go ahead and laugh at
me world, some folks still live with the code of honesty and playing
fairly by the rules, like Hyundai time, 2006 and DUHHHHHHHHHHHH.
There
are six dimensions that need concern, forget what all the 2012
fucking QM Physicists have to tell you, none have them ever lived in
2299, I fucking have. My name there, is Labber Zeejins. This is on
the record in the early 21st century, and a spoken record
from a place that I believe Wall Street set up to test my skills to
make money in the stock market, if that is, they ever would play fair
and not cheat me over and over again, the dam scum. These dimensions
are length, width, and breadth of space, and then time has three
dimensions also, the 4th is its length, the 5th
is its transdimensional width, and the sixth is a mind energy signal
that coexists as a light-switch, only with out the copyrighted 1993
affections that would go with it if I were not playing fair tonight,
and down would go the markets by 1500 points over the next two
trading days, but because I play fair, they will shoot way up, and
write my name 'FOOL' on their bullish charts, and that, RIAA, is with
or without, any hearts thumping away, YO. The greatest connections in
2012 to D-6, remain clueless to the fact that things are endless, and
that is why we exist at HELL. They see it all 100% fucking ass in
reverse. There is no end, and your CONSCIOUS MIND wants endlessness,
resulting from the biggest smoke and mirror magic trick in the
multiverse and beyond, as when in hyperspace, humans fear extinction,
only hear can peeps be free of HELL. That is unless this wild
teenager takes our place and keeps this from our thoughts endlessly,
in HER GREAT CITY, known by a few mortal waking world occult peeps,
as Sahasra Dal Kanwal, in the subatomic regions, they call this, the
Astral Plane, same diff folks.
Now
Terry Egghead from the Jersey Harbors, would hate this blog as much
as my old stolen eyeglasses, but that is tough beans for her, right
Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason? You cannot put the Blogs of
Mountainpen in some type of a rational order, not chronologically, or
in any other way, alphabetically, subject wise, and whatever, doing
it has been tried as some of you know late in 2010 if memory is
serving me, and it just does not work Terry, so BUG OFF, Sarah Callio
Johnson Family CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
we attack things in any kind of an order, and know all of the facts,
we also know that just the telling of a story, changes the reality,
as any knid of possible known way of observing it and or telling it,
makes a tiny bit of additional graviton reality mix into the
equation, changing it. As Jan Stock Broker Nace said it a long time
back in 1980, sound engineers hate customers who change their mixes.
He was a total Trump Ego and most engineers I have found don't really
care all that much what the shit you do after you pay and walk. But
for a while this demigod was all I could relate to, and he said, that
just recording his reel tape onto a cassette machine changes the mix,
he wants to make the tapes or the reels, hands off YO. Well fuck you
Jan, I had very expensive fucking shit in 1980, and yes, your
righteous precious mixes might alter by one decibel here or there on
some frequency, tough beans uncle Bent Knees from 1983. But my pernt
Archie, is this: He was right, there is going to be some alteration
from just removing the analog recorded open reel tape out of his dam
studio and into the open air and my car, and into 1802 robin Hill,
measured in some infinitesimal way, you'll never alter this mix Jan
Ass hole, that is Quantum Dynamics, and it is not gonna' fucking
change just because you're having a bad hair day
baldy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This story mixed in whatever way
you want folks, goes about like this. In 1973 at a computer school
called PCI, changed in my book TPB to the ACI, I met a real ass hole,
named Jim Burr, changed to Jim Pratt, for the book. From 1974 right
through the summer time of 1980, he preached to me about the devil
this, and the devil that, everything in his fucking miserable riotten
life all pertained to the devil. He reminded me of Abigail Collins,
from the hit television show, “Dark Shadows”. Then on the 4th
day of June in 1980, the All Mighty teenager Goddess Scylla came to
me in a powerful EXPLORATRONIC EXPERIENCE, and sang a beautiful song
to me, that I'll remember as clearly right now as I did 32 years and
six weeks ago, not that I remembered details of the song, just the
powerful vivid reality of the experience of being with HER. It
fascinates me however, that if you add six years from 1974 when Jim
went nuts on me with this devil horse shit, until SSJKK appeared to
me, 6 years past. Then in 6 more years, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on,
how much am I supposed to believe here is pure random chance, Mizz
Abigail Carmichael? What, I'm not allowed your low tolerance for
coincidences, baby? SHEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AT&T
knows everything, Chucky, who's kidding who, buddy? Can you believe
fucking Spell-Checker, not including the nickname of Chucky, what
about that one, Louis not Lois, Laines, nicknamed Chicky????????
Will you cut me a break, Marge 1985 Leo? Who's speaking, lovely Carla
Avaleno? Yeah, that was me on the phone,
blondie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, Debbie Harry, SC recognizes
you, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All the way from here to the CRI and
back, and without any tears, in twenty-twenty-three, (Chemtrail
Research Institute). WO Mister Harner, and thank you for the favor
you did me, but you would not have had to do it if I had not swiped
that thing out of Herby's house that night, that no one yet knows
diddly squat about. Still, when I got onto the fact that I would have
to wait 64 trillion years before I could be back in the room in the
sub again, I freaked out mentally, and my new doctor told me that I
must have experienced a traumatic shock shortly before the 4th
of June ion 1983, well, synthroid or no synthroid, or without MY
PHILADELPHIA FATHER, any great endocrinologists, or other medical
miracles, here I am, the prophet of singularity, straight from 1988
and the US Copyright Office, right down here at Fort Pierce and
Florida State, WOW for gods ass sake, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fuck Marge, Terry needs to cut me the real break, so just show me you
mental giant you, just how does one tell my story, MY STORY, even
without any 15th days of 1986 Augusts included in the mix?
Jesus friggin' Christ All Mighty. Things all changed many times,
1986, then again in 1996. As soon as Callio, and King, and McGuire;
got all mixed in as well, right Sarah, your cuzz, where was my mind,
you silly cow bitch?????????????? Oh those Venka Power girl mind
blocks, huh granny Clara,
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! David Roth said
to me once, “What are these pricks down there in Atlantic fucking
City covering up so intensely”? Well, hindsight is 20/10+ in my
opinion, forget 20/20. Christmas trees, it is all so clear now, huh
god dam Johnny????????????????????????
We'll
close up shop for now on this supplemental blog entry, by adding
these few whittle words wabbit, WHAAAAAAAAA. This wild increase in
knowledge and technology is not from some Roswell crashed alien ship.
Anyone not able to see that time travel is going on in various ways,
is blind and dumb, or dead. Take your pick L-4.
DIANA
MY LOVE, thank you for coming around yesterday morning after
midnight, my beautiful endless love. You are and will always be, my
lightning. I'll die for you a trillion times over, and I am no phony
like Mister Judas Pizzeria
Carry-Out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Call me
sometime Chicky, I am not mad at you, just the rest of the dam ass
family, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Imagine, in a
flash, it is the end of May of 1983, and all eternity strikes you,
BOOM, not a flash of one mortal life, but all fucking eternity, that
was a traumatic shock, doctor Miller Bittle of great Philadelphian
families, YO and WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
you did not receive my apology, Paul, I am re-apologizing again, I
was off my medication, and am in the process of some major ass law
suits against major ass peeps that I feel I can prove beyond
reasonable doubt, are trying to kill me by taking away my meds, ever
since 2000 and the death of my MEAL MOM from HELL. How can anyone
doubt the paranormal just because nothing strange happened to you in
your life, who are you, fucking GOD ALL MIGHTY? I think not, as I am
pretty sure of my facts on just who is right now in 2012, and can
only wonder if what happened has ever happened before, but I'll say
this dog gone much Jimmy Stuart elevator 6-M Man: Whether you're in
the cement business or not sir pookah, let me tell you something
fairly big, YO. Add up King Nebnooshoo PCN with my PCN and we get the
approximate time that caused me to place a curse on the CROWN, for
what was done to my granny a while back, so whether the sun turns off
or not, it looks like I cursed two of us, huh Queenie? From 726
through 1385, a transition was ongoing in my family, with the sir
name going from Carpenter to Stuart. WO, Billy, thanks again for the
favor. Sorry I dissed you, but you did piss me off. Hay, you want to
fuck me, fuck me, all recording artists are a bunch of worthless
bastards, you are not the first and you won't be last prick that I;ll
come to know from that demonic trade, YO, so have a real nice life,
along with others folks and washcloth Washburn's, huh Shirley
Grantglands Sherlock, YO????????????????
BYE-BYE
FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
ENDING
BLOG.
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