SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0525
HALF
PAST SIX THIS THURSDAY EVENING
23
AUGUST, 2012
START:
Enemies
gave me a very mean and cruel BOTBAR
day, since first light this morning. They have no heart, conscience,
humanity, soul, or human feelings for another human being. Instead,
they make Adolf Hitler, in comparison, appear as a saint, a
philanthropist, and the next prize winner for being most like Gandhi,
Sister Theresa, and founder and Chief-Ex- Officer, of the biggest
charities on the planet.
From
daylight time on, it was one extremely loud noise after another,
rappers outside with their gods awful sounds from hell itself,
neighbor door slammer pigs, raised by pigs, and a poison was used to
again, mess up my heart rhythm causing nasty arrhythmia's, until I
got up, and took an extra blood pressure pill, and two Bufferin, to
thin the blood, and let the heart pass it more easily through the
body, working less hard.
Nightmares
were real bad while I slept from about eleven until shortly past
four. In one of them, I weighed 300 pounds and could not get any of
my clothes on, and could barely even move around. I could not for the
life of me figure out how I got so morbidly obese, not that I am not
there all ready, but it was even worse. I may go back to playing the
Morianity to the roaches and beyond, as well as into the unconscious
collective of humanity, but for now; I wil revert back to some
revenge counterstriking, with the telling on these blogs, of some
real heavy major secrets. Before I do, I have reviewed carefully what
needs to be done. MY ENTIRE
YOUTUBE GARBAGE,
will all be coming down soon. I am all through thinking I can send
messages through my music, as I am old, and my music is not liked by
the modern world, with their animal lust for nothing but hollering
ugly words, and inconceivably heavy beats; all with basically no
melody at all, and this to me is NOT MUSIC,
and I refuse to try and write to their new age sick twisted style, so
keep it folks, enjoy it; and as my uncle Stuart Huntington Mason said
to me in 1983, while visiting my Atco, New Jersey home, one
afternoon; and we got to talking about some silly thing; “Leave me
out of it”. I am getting totally rid of my TV and Cable service, I
never listen to radio broadcasting, and my only posts onto internet
websites will be the LIFE JOURNAL
on my blogs, so I can keep telling about the injustices perpetrated
against me by these monster people all over the world all my life,
for reasons that as Jim Burr said in 1974, and up through about 1990;
have to do with powerful family situations and secrets, and you know
what people; I really don't give a fuck. I'm tired of this shit, and
folks it is old, it is annoying; and I have a life that I wish to get
on with, so if you are so bound and determined to stop me from doing
so, then know this; you will most certainly have to murder me
physically. I am packing up everything in the apartment, and will
just vanish one morning soon, and nobody needs to know my business;
but I am putting this horrible life here in Florida, forever behind,
and am heading for South American destinations, never to look back or
participate in anything connected with capitalism, or America, or
music, or my past that comprises any of this junk here, over many
decades of time now.
I
asked the cat a lot of questions earlier B4I began this blog, and you
only need be concerned with one of these numerous GAWNUM QUERIES. I
asked why this horrific siege was done to me on this devil number day
of 23, as 12 times annually, I face its wrath and disaster producing
results? My answer from Kitty cat Gawky Gaukauk was PCN-972; an
answer that I tend to receive during some real bad times over the
past couple of years here in Florida. Here are some of the MATCH-LIST
ITEMS for PCN-972, in my book L-4, and for any and all others up
here, reading these blogs:
LAKEHOUSE
GIANT
GIRL
MORIANITY
FIRE
DREAM
JANE
FONDA
ZERANNISS
Now
to me, these answers make total and perfect sense, and I do not have
the time right now on this blog to go into why, so as to assist you
in your own understanding, maybe at a later time I'll try and do a
Johnny Nash, and clear things up for you, just not right now, and not
today will the story be continuing, written in 1977 by my mother
regarding her very unhappy experience with her love affair at her
office with her horrendous boss, who hailed along with his family,
from Chicago, Illinois, also known as (AKA) the WINDY CITY. Certain
things will remain, and as promised by 'Scott Ransom' types of
people, totally endlessly, 'inescapable'.
Right
now I will tell a powerful little thing, and then log off and enjoy
my chicken and rice and spinach dinner with my television show, “The
Mentalist”. The little thing I will tell on this blog, and this
will just scratch major stuff that will indeed be continuing on
following blog works by this author, has to do with the watching of
entertaining television shows, such as, my favorite and greatest law
show of all time, even surpassing Perry Mason of the fifties, and
that being, the one and only, not Cheerios, but, “Law & Order”.
Yes folks, it was there to do its job, and yes folks, it did its job.
We all know what's being said here, or else and PC or not my friends
and fiends, you're riding on the perpetual yellow short bus. No
offense, but if you cannot piece Morianity together, even if you
don't believe in it, yes, the term of you and short-bus would have to
go hand in hand. There is simply no other way around it, I am truly
sorry. Yes, they even took away the single airing of the 3AM show
back a few days ago. I was all set to watch it, and POWWOW and Native
Cher Bono Americans, off it went, and it did not come back on, sort
of like our electrical system after World War lll strikes, it will go
off, but it won't be coming back on, another great old Hotel Kali4nya
deal from 1969 and other highly secretive years of the Planet Earth,
with or without my favorite Philadelphia football team, Miss luscious
gorgeous Simpson. For those who may not know it, the final one was
not on a Friday, but I believe it was back last Monday, and then off
it went just like “DARK SHADOWS”, without so much as an up front
hint or clue, not a ghost's whisper, lovely Jenny Love Hewitt Sarah
Fiveparty. On top of that, the last episode was all about a music
rock and roller, and you'll love this, called 'C SQUARE'. Maybe this
gave the top female artist in the world, fifteen years later; the
bright idea, to do her E=MC SQ project. I learned a lot from that, as
there were many in-between the lines things to be gleaned from that
project, if you are looking, that is.
I
made an error, so what else is new. I told you the blog at
www.blogger.com/ telling about
the road trip with wonderful Chockerman Lakehouse, that I took after
falling asleep, up to Boston, was blogged in October. It was blogged
on the 30th and final day in September in 2008; now there
were two blogs posted up on that day, an early morning one just past
midnight, and then one later on in the day, and it would be on the
later one. This is where I see, 31 days before it ever happened, the
great 2008 parade on Broad Street in Philadelphia, on Halloween Day,
after the Phillies Baseball Club had just won the World Series the
previous night, after not doing this for 28 years, with or without
KALI and her nightmare and tear causing hell, that she has put me
through, as per my late 20th century copyrighted song
called, what else Diana Ross, but “Mirror-Mirror”. Do you want to
know why I won't tell secrets such as give precise detailed, simple
to follow instructions on how to alter reality using the principle of
manipulating transdimensional hyperspace? Simple, so simple it bites
your prick right off, and spits it out into a meat grinder. Only the
top controller wealthy world-owners (WO) would make use of it, and
they probably all ready know of this; and do just that. The other
folks would read it, and scoff and laugh, and move onto the next
blog, and get some more laughs, with Sister Nancy-Ann and her
adventures at the Vatican. I don't know which blog you should be
getting the most jollies out of in all truth, so I won't judge you. I
merely tell you that I will only tell things that I know that the
smaller folks might just be able to make some use out of. I don't
live for the wealthy mind controllers, who run all our shows, knowing
we are all too stupid to even be remotely aware of the situation. I
want you to know that something will soon post up that is out of time
sequence by close to four years. You really do need to read it,
especially one paragraph of it. You'll know which one when you get
there, and then remember, just what I am up against, and why since
the age of 20, I think of hardly anything, other than how to take my
life, and be done with it all; and that folks, was nearly 40 dam
years ago.
I
think you are up here Ann King. I remembered something you told me, I
never forget anything, it is part of the curse I carry around honey.
You said that you kill people that you don't like with kindness, and
this is what you did to me right after I dared to bother the Sheriff
of San Mateo County in Kali4nya. Both you and my nosy kid and her
friends, all called me within the space of minutes after I made the
initial call to tell him of the wild hacking from the 36th
Avenue address. What Ann, don't little nobody people like me have any
rights? Don't we Detective Stabler and Benson, or are you all
nobody's too, getting raped under piers on holidays, and thinking its
funny and laughing at my pathetic life endlessly? HA-HA-HA Icabod
Crane. Maybe the last laugh I was planning struck a laser mirror and
bounced. I can find no other explanation for that incident, oh great
US Copyright Office. How do you live with yourself, Ann King? I
thought I was your friend. How much did the family grease your PAWM
PIE ETTOS, I'm left to wonder and presume, Mizz Livingston Safari?
I
will wrap up by saying that despite some really bad times recently,
my roulette is kicking some powerful monster ass. I will move to the
area of the Pompono Casino for a year or two, make a mint, and then
get out of this country once and for all, before they totally bury me
six miles deep. You're another real asshole Paul. I miss you and your
lies, and your wonderful mood swings, and bad company; as I would
miss a mouthful of abscessed teeth being slowly drilled by a dull
one, with no novy. Good riddance to every one of you. Soon, I'll be
forever OUDDDDDDAHERE, Mister Callas,
and if they ever want to find me, then try
HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is where I'll be, Tiny Tim,
tiptoeing through the fagot ass tulips; and certainly not with you.
I'll have a heirum of teen babes, and all the money I'll need from
the casinos over at Humphrey Bolgartville. No, not the soon to be
clocked Key Largo, I mean MC, no, no daughters to worry about either,
that is all forever behind me now. Once I close a book on things, an
atomic blast cannot be powerful enough to rip it back open. Just ask
anyone who ever knew me, and how stubborn I can be. Let me end this
now, good night good folks, and stay well. Keep the faith in
something, either in Morianity, or whatever turns your lights into
brilliant pretty colors. I was never here to tell you how you should
think, only that perhaps, you should think; as it does separate you
from all other life creatures on this earth you know, as only mankind
really thinks. Don't let the animal freaks lie to you and tell you
otherwise. Where are you when I need you Mister Hefner? Spell checker
won't help me spell the word for a large group of lovely girls, at
your service, sexually. I did the best I could. See you in happy land
L-4, or in my case, misery cubed, as I will unrelentingly be under
the great and powerful non-OZ-Huntington Curse of 2000 years.
END,
END, END, END, YES, I WISH IT WAS THE END, DUH!!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment