WORST COMPUTER HACK NIGHT IN YEARS

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0468

KING NEBNOOSHOO

HUNTINGTON CURSED, SOSOWEINSSDD

SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY

START:

I may owe an apology to the website, and I may not, W. All I know is that for some time now, and the record itself of past blogs reflects the activity, I post up on the blogger site with no problem, then I go to put up the 2^nd blog on W, and all hell breaks loose. Beginning right here and now, until I contact the Miami Field Office of the FBI and get some answers, if I can; I am going to blog on one site only, no others, just at www.blogger.com/ and it is silly to type this, as this will only take someone to where they all ready are, sort of as what Eckists term, 'soul travel'.

I knew that someone somewhere, would not like the last blog, and I had been planning on saying most of this that was said, for some time, but it all came out in one big bang, BOOM, huh Jason Forrest Nineties Guy? In any event, if you go all the way back to where I began blogging, AFTER GOING OFF OF THE MOTHER FUCKING GRID FOR 70 DAYS, quite a powerful number in my life, roads, daughters born, and on I could easily go with this, but will not; stop clapping yo, but yes, it does seem that speaking of 70, others have been quite active in the pursuit of hacking me out, and before I ever blogged a single word at WORDPRESS (W). Still, a little digging around, and it seems, DING, Lizzy endless possibilities Montgomery, I found a whittle connection, wabbit. It does not prove diddly squat conclusively, but still, interesting, and if I feel like expanding and telling more about this at a later time, then I will, not right now tonight folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

I may as well, for now, blog on a site that is in color, is clear, and IS NOT HACKING ME OUT WHENEVER SOMEONE'S INTERESTS SUIT THEM. I cannot come out and say anything, they're too clever for that, but let us examine a little mother fucking reality folks, like it or not, bad mysterious behavior and fowl mouths and all. First, all anyone needs is the biggest, and GOOGLE is it, and GOOGLE IS the YOU-TUBE, and the BLOGGER, so who needs any other shit and especially if they may be giving you grief and a hard time? A mentally challenged dunce can see a few facts, and I don't care how may out here that want to do a GWOPS on me, the facts just ooze out at you like a giant tube of toothpaste with an elephant standing on the bottom end of it. The military fucks things up, they are not perfect, they invented the term SNAFU that means this very same thing. On the other hand, the scriptures go something along the lines of, “Be perfect as God is perfect”. This even precedes Mister Bruce, but forget that. Just count up the coincidences from empire rulings to bad words to a million other things, and then along with all of the coincidences that number over a thousand and yes, I am keeping score, Arlo Trainrides Guthrie, from autumn 1972 in New Orleans all the way to my girl friend Katrina from Century-21. On top of all this, the military admits they have imperfections, the scripures say what tghey say, MC says what she said on top of the building that day, and I don'y know what I am really expected to not believe at this point, when the facts are screaming at me at about two and a half dam million ass decibels, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In any event, I'll say good-bye to Hollywood, Wordpress, and other things for right now. I have destroyed the music, so forget getting a copy of it Colaman, you need to calm your wild step down a bit, yo. I am all through plkaying games with an endless sixteen year old kid.

I will be telling a lot of forbidden things if shit doesn't fucking back the fucking hell off of me. This started five or six days ago, and is getting worse and worse and fucking worse. I will blow this world away with shit I fucking know, this stops right here and right now, OR FUCKING ELSE, YO.

The biggest barrier in the cosmos is the speed of light. There are ways around this, but not by breaking the rules, just as flying is not breaking the rules, and technology is merely a more efficient way of interacting with cosmic forces. In equal manner, the Huntington Curse, also is operating on these same principles. When they are in your own camp, as David Roth said this so well back in the eighties and into the nineties to me, what can you do? You cannot win, not with 'Plotsaluck Boards', chemtrails from American Honda on Gaither road in late 1987, or enemies hiding in the weeds with power, while we sit like ducks waiting for the bang we won't hear, because we are blown up before the sound can reach our ears. Does this all not deserve the great word, right about now folks? “WOW”.

Oh yes, the “Women Of Wonder”, please don't sue me Linda Carter, all you'll get is an old bed and a wormed up computer ready for the fucking landfill. I'm watching you bloody Mary. Am I carrying the surfboard correctly yet honey cakes?

Well ladies and gentlemen, it is time for me to jump off of the 102^nd story now, and crash into my nightmares, “MY” what? Jimmy, not only have I been dead for 26 years now, and Kal bringing me lots of bad 24/7 interactions, songs and all, but on top of that, I am supposed to eat the shit of some unspeakable force that has wanted me dead and destroyed for a nonillion fucking years. Well, the pretty little thing that used to advertise for the DISCOVERY ZONE, could certainly chime in right about now with her famous lines, baby love, and I'll quote this little vision of loveliness right on my whittle bwog, “I DON'T THINK SO”. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

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