SAFE JOURNAL, KING NEB, CH. #0466

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0466

KING NEBNOOPERSECUTEDFOREVERSHOO

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2293

SBT-DATFILE: 070212.639.555555555555

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

© MARK WAYNE MOHR

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I'm under some fairly heavy death siege today on this second mother fucking cunt ass day in July in twenty-twelve. It is on all fronts, neighbors, loud following stalking private air assault, chemtrails, fire alarms, noises on my telephone, and a huge one several days back that I forgot to fucking ass report on the record and blog.

OBVIOUSLY THEIR DOW JONES FIXED CROOKED MARKETS MUST BE TOTLLY EAGLE SOARING, AND FLYING UP INTO THE VERY UNFRIENDLY SKIES, FROM THE MOUNTAINPEN'S PERSEPECTIVE, WHICH IS WHAT THE “ICPE” IS ALL ABOUT.

I'll be asking Gawky Gaukauk just why this horrible fucking BOTBAR DAY has struck me, later, but first, will post this information for the world, that if anything happens to me on this evil second day of July, 2012, I WAS MURDERED BY MY FILTHY FUCKING WOMO ENEMIES.

I DECIDED NOT TO SEND ROGER C. THE SONG. MY LIFE COMES FIRST, AND THIS IS OBVIOUSLY YYYYYYYYYYYYY THIS ALL IS HAPPEBNING TODAY, OUT OF THE FUCKING BLIE, KABOOM, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What amazes me however, is that I had a very restful and peaceful sleep, short, but sweet and peaceful. Still, a major thing happened. I woke up around seven thirty and the main light was on above my bed. I know I did not get up and turn it on, so something extremely paranormal, supernatural, and quite esoteric, is indeed fucking the hell with me today, Lads, Lassies, Labbers, abnd Labradors.

In closing, I'll tell you that the music, as always, is behind it all, it always has been and will be, and Richard Karpf and Kirsty Cheerios, and all of the turds in the EW, know this perfectly well.

I'LL MOST DEFINITELY B BAHK, GOVERNOR WASHCLOTH FAMILY, AND WOW, SO DARN EXTENDED, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Atlantic City is where you need to go Mister Steve Hawking, they are covering up the biggest dam secret in this multiverse on Tennessee Avenue, one that changed the life forever, of a Mister Chester Perkowski. Letters from 1998 don't lie, and obviously, nor do songs from 1997, I'll never escape the wild Goddess Scylla, still, who the hell wants too, inconceivably rotten as she has been to me for a long long ass time, frogs, mysteries, wolves, secrets, and juvy records of many kinds, all notwithfreakingstanding, oh population of Planet Earth, MEOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO AND YOU KNOW WHEN TO DO IT, WITH OR QWITHOUT THE FEDS, OR HOCKEY PLAYERS OR GIRLS NAMED BRENDA MOORE FROM THE EARLY NUSANCE CALLING NINETIES, MISSES MEEKER, YO, move over Tuberculous sisters, and Glendora real-psychics of real red Henningsen chain men and gangs, girl gangs from QM, or the other QM, not left out of this monster ass fire-mall equation, road trips, and sports predictors as well, WOW, only you can say it MC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll never do it justice with a typed blog. Oh well, so color me mine over at Lute Saky's place, the lying bastard phony cop of 1990. The show started at a precise time, yeah right, and ended regular scheduling, on my 29 year ann choke day, yeah right.

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