SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0475, KN

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0475

KING NEBNOOSHOO

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295

SBT-DATFILE: 071412.104

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS ANE ME

MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“I'M SO VERY SORRY SID, FOR ALL THE BAD AND WRONG I DID”

© 2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR

SWORN VOLUNTARILY TAKEN OATH OF TOTAL TRUTHS

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

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I'm so very sorry Sid, for all the bad and wrong I did. I wish to make it up to you, I hope there's something I can do.

This was a note that I wrote to my mom's boyfriend in the summer time in 1969, after we all returned from a place called, the Ellisberg Shopping Center, on KINGS HIGHWAY, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG. I had taken a mirror that was about a foot wide and five feet long that is the type that folks hang in home hallways, and that was just purchased at some store at this shopping center, and while my mom and her lover, a Mister Sidney Cohen Crown Namechanger, went to another store for a quick one or two item purchase, they told me to take the mirror to the car and wait in the car for them, and to place it in the rear seat facing down, and handed me the car keys. What got into me would have a definite explanation in the point of view of folks such as Jim Burr and Abigail Collins, but it is total nonsense, not that something did not enter into me, just not some 'devil' from biblical crap. I knew that they would be in the store a while because they both were shoppers and enjoyed looking around, despite only buying a few things. This was shortly after man first landed on the moon on the 20^th day of July, in good old 1969. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, landed, and Mister Collins orbited the Command Module above them. It was on or around the first Monday after the actual landing took place. I have some real clear recall to this, and you will see why as I tell more. I faked out like I was heading for the car, and then ran behind the place, there was a weird alleyway that was in the middle of the shopping center, that in the following year, all became a part of an extremely strange school, that had some type of machines that just could not really be there, because technology did not exist for them to exist, but they did, and we will fit this all in, so pay close attention. I tend to do a lot of things that need apologizing for at a later time, starting with this, at the age of fourteen. When people are age fourteen, it is the second time they are at their numerological power year, known as the '5' year. I know nothing at these times, of such things as this, but I tell you now from what I know now, and it still all applies, and the reason this works this way, can be sort of thought of as a quantum splicer. We will not get into all of this now on this blog or we'd be all night. But later, hopefully, we can always revisit. Still, all of you who are at least twenty-three years old or older, tell me if you can see some kind of a connection in your life at the 5 year numerological cycles of your life, 5-14-23-32-41-50-59-68-77-86-95-104-113. I stop at 113, as these are the thirteen possible ones in today's time, since the biological android (human body) will not see number 14^th power number, you just cannot live that long, to age 122. But the 5^th power cycle of this power age, age 41, speaking for myself, don't even get me going, Mizz Eckert Pharmaceutical Employee of nine 12 July's ago, DO NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was my age, when I began losing my mind, in the seemingly then futile attempt to find the missing girl, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, the great GODDESS SCYLLA of the ASTRAL PLANE, or the subatomic realm. But let me move on, this again folks, is all stuff that can be revisited, and who knows better than anyone else about this, than the great files of James Rockford Toothloose? I pretended to head for where Sidney had parked his 'antique', as Brad Messenger, my friend in those days of youth, referred to Sydney Crown's automobile, because it had to be thirty years old from late in the thirties or at best somewhere early in the nineteen-forties. After I knew my mom and her boyfriend were totally out of sight and well past the small store window near the entrance door, I turned away and went into that weird alley and to the other side, but to this very day. I keep having recurring wild dreaming experiences to use your present day dark age way of seeing this interaction, and yes, to this day, this repeats, it is longer than the wild interaction that lasted for decades, about Egg Harbor's great Harborfields Detention Center, on Route 561. Why would I have dreams from early adulthood, until I first met the King family; about a strange school appearing building, in Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, where I knew not one soul? YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Patrick Know It All Jane? But we can revisit this along with Jimmy Rockford Files later, if I so choose, on another day. For now, yes the dream to this day, still comes, where I am in the rear of this shopping center, with this mirror. I remember taking a set of small metallic stairs, up to a roof of a store, and it was no small feat for a tiny boy who was quite physically weak and very small for his age, as I was. I have many memories in many places in hyperspace, including the one I am seemingly awake and living in eight here and now while blogging away at five past three on a Saturday morning. My memories blur together, but here is what I best recall about what happened without any transdimensional mixing. I began shinning the mirror in tandem with the early afternoon bright July sun, right into the faces of drivers coming and going, in and out, of this shopping center. I caused a real havoc to happen. I never claimed to be a perfect angel. I have done many things that I am not one bit proud of. One car that came into the place unusually fast, went right into a parked truck. After this happened, I ran as fast as I could down off of the roof, and with the mirror facing my body so as not to be seen as a mirror, took it to the car, placed it as I was told to, in the rear seat face down. Within a minute, out came my mom and Sid Crown. When we got half way home, I told my mom what I had done, and Sidney slammed on the breaks of his car and pulled over onto the shoulder. After he yelled at me, he said to my mom, “He's walking home”. This is not the only time he pulled that one, there was another time, but on both of these occasions, my mom insisted that I was not walking home. When we got back to Dell Way Arms Apartments, I wrote that apology note to Sidney, and he was not one bit taken or impressed by it. My mom fell for it like a ton of bricks and hugged me and told me it is OK. Sidney was so disgusted, that he went slamming out the door and left. My mom fixed us a nice dinner, and I had the last laugh on Sid. But apologies are not something I'm a big stranger to. There is my wonderful daughter for the night in the city that was extra friendly, of course, I did not know that this was all planned by powerful exploratrons who to this day tell her it is not true, and most likely have performed acts such as Tennessee Avenue Forgetfulness, Sarah's phone booth name, being assaulted by Robert McGuire while inside my Saturn Griffith Teasing Automobile and not kissing Detective Stabler, and on I could go, but I am convinced that this all went down because UI have had it done to me, by the great beautiful awesome Viqueen, Jewelly White.

I totally know that life is an illusion. I also know that I am in this illusion and parlor game, against my will, and argue vehemently with psychic Kathy from THE GATHERING PLACE, and all her pals from Nicky to Chicky, in 1995, of course they were 15 years old then, but when I wrote GITYA in 1983, my lovely special wonderful and hopefully forgiving daughter, was only 13. Still, does this all fit in some way? You can bet the cornfield and the farm it does, sweet Annie Costner of Prophet of Singularity times. How can I prove this is an illusion to ordinary doubting folks and Missourians in general? Well, I could tell the world that I can leap into the air and end up on Jenny Washburn's roof, and buy a cellphone and duck tape it to me and record the flight, but if I did that, and posted it, the next thing I would be aware of, is that I woke up and it is the same day all over again. I have jumped in front of freight trains, and all kinds of stuff has ended my life, even a massive heart attack was suffered at my Cifaloglio job in my car, when that wild loud machine kicked on one night when I was feeling really bad, and made me jump, and caused my heart to totally explode. The Astral Plane experience was so beautiful, right down the McDonald's and Frank Callio, and the flowers, and Audition and Repetwar lady, as well as the white sports car, the winter turning into spring, going from dark to noon day, and then eventually, waking up without feeling bad any longer, as though someone had repaired my heart. This is called, the Huntington Curse, along with lap lane swimmer Joan, Mickey Showers the lifeguard, Tony Zenun at Haddonwood, diner rotisserie Stephanie Powers powers, and on we could go all day long folks. Spell Checker will not help me spell the rep word in the A&R above, so screw them, I cannot worry about a system that will not help when I type in a hundred possible ways to spell the darn thing. I'm sure both my kids can spell it. DUH.

THANK YOU FOR COMING OVER AGAIN TO VISIT WITH ME MY LOVELY WONDERFUL AWESOME LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA, I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, STROBE ON, AND TAKE ME WHEREVER YOU GO, AND JUST PAY ME NO ATTENTION WHEN I ACT LIKE A TOTAL BUTT WIPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have not grown up a day since I played Mirror-Mirror in 1969. Endless Pinocchio, huh Callio????????????????? Ouch, my nose Patty Jane.

ENDING TRANSMISSION:

NIGHTY-NIGHT, L-4.