SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0501, KING NEBBY

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0501

KING NOTHING GARBAGE PROPHET HATED CURSED AND JEERED

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO/

NO BSNF: THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 2012

SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, TWO STRAIGHT FUCKING DAYS, NATCH.

12:50 POST MERIDIAN EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME

HOT AND HUMID IN FORT PIERCE, MISERABLE IN MANY VARIOUS WAYS

© MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012/MWM/MF-2/BOM

STARTING BLOG:

DEAR WORLD, THINGS MOTHER FUCKING SUCK, FOR ME ANYWAY. THIS IS ALL MY CUNT LAPPING FAULT, I KNEW I WAS TOUCHING FORBIDDEN GROUND WITH THAT FUCKING GITYA PROJECT FROM 1983, AND I WAS RIGHT ON THE GOD DAM ASS MONEY.

I was all set today to enjoy a few items from the grocery store, and learned that my food card or EBT card had been made invalid. Nobody told me mother fucking squat. I was looking forward to a nice meal tonight, and some ice cream, not warmed over spaghetti and a can of old fucking soup. I am supposed to be a fucking mind reader, nobody told me fucking ass zip about this change. I was up at the HARVEST where I used to work, after being denied on my food card over at the Publix Store while attempting to buy their brand, cheap but quite tasty, of ice cream earlier this morning. I went through a lot of hell before learning, I am not eating until tomorrow. I would have rationed for this extra day if I had known that what I expected today, would not be fucking ass available. On top of this shit, my scum bag cock sucking million neighbors from across the fucking hall, have all moved back in together, things were better until a week or so ago, and now, POOF, it is horrible, these scum bag fart sniffing dirt holes just slam in and out and in and out 24/7/365.2422, leaving me eventually, to be forced to sign a complaint of nuisance against them with the township police and county sheriff. Oh well, at least I don't need my wonderful daughter's permission to talk to this sheriff, as I got reamed out for bothering her pal, Sir Monks. Before I talk to any of her friends, I have to call her and get special permission to do wo, like WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been a second straight rotten fucking cunt eating day folks, and worse than yesterday when all this fucking bullshit bastard crap all started. I asked the cat why the scummy nabes are so bad again, and the answer came out, PCN-963. I forgot to blog this on yesterday's blogging texts. Ten thousand pardons, everyone, SHEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!

LIGHTNING, WHERE ARE YOU, I REALLY NEED YOU, WHY DO YOU COME CROSSING OVER FLORIDA AT EVERY POSSIBLE PLACE EXCEPT OVER GFODF DAM FORT PIERCE, MY WONDERFUL AWESOME TEEN QUEEN BABY BLOND? YOU ARE MY ONE TRUE LOVE, MY STROBING LIGHT FROM THE HEAVENLY REALMS. Some think of you as the holy Spirit, but I know what is really going on, and the dam hell with the whole rotten world, when I am feeling this down and out and blue. If I could push a button and end the entire universe, POOF, say nite-night folks!!!!!!!!!!

I am losing fucking shit, I am broke, I am hassled and fucked with, I am tortured and tormented, I have had everything taken away from me and a lot more, and then, the world calls ME THE BAD FUCKING GUY! Yes, it really makes me wonder if I have not died and gone to HELL a very very fucking long time ago, just as my pal Jimmy Carter appeared to confirm, on that monstrous day, in a parallel universe in some other Atlantic City.

OH YES, THAT HORRIBLE FUCKING BAD GUY, MARK, WHAT A ROTTEN SON OF A BITCH HE IS, WO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, let us continue with the tale of Grace Eastman Mason Mohr, from the year of 1977. The circa was the following year after the bicentennial. This is all real, it all happened, it involved a love affair gone wrong, but that was still just the Tom Cruise Air Jet Excuse. A lot more than a romance gone to the dogs was going on in cosmos with all of this shit, and some will see why quite clearly as I type my mom's story along. Let us now continue with this, LLLL. Enjoy, if you dare.

I am convinced now that some of us can reach the limit of what we can take and then all that is necessary is an additional sudden shock to catch us off guard and set off the alarm – an alarm that causes one to react irrationally momentarily. If alone, it certainly can cause disastrous effects....and that is just what happened to me.

I believe my happy well-balanced childhood prepared and sustained me in the difficult years that were to lie ahead. I was twenty-six years old when I fell in love and married, fully ready to accept not only the joys but also the trials, tribulations and sorrows through the years.

For the first ten years of married life there were just two of us. People often remarked that we must be the happiest couple living – and we were. We were very much in love....But there was one serious problem. My husband throughout our eighteen years of married life had difficulty in maintaining employment and the problem was made manifold in the last eight years of our marriage because of the additional responsibility of raising our son. Unable to support us at the end, and finally, after everything we owned had to be sold at auction no house to live in or car to drive, food and clothes at a real premium, he walked out and we separated. I am happy that my son, who was eight years old at the time, has grown into a fine young man, has an excellent job and lives in his own apartment.

WE WILL PICK THIS STORY UP FROM HERE, ON THE NEXT BLOG, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER NUMBER 0501.

The continuing story goes in order, from blog to blog, and is on each blog, beginning with SJ-CH 0500, and will be continued on each blog until the story my mother wrote, is fully written and published.

Life for fucking me is not at all like life is for others all around me. This cannot be put into words, but when you are in my shoes, you just totally see it, recognize it, and mother fucking know it without question. There are so many things that I really would god dam like to say, but know it would be very dangerous to do. The dam Pope and his army of shit eating priests, could never hope to talk you out of it in a quintillion dam years, folks, once you've been over there. Don't make a deal over my words now, as there is no place or anything really over anything else; but words tend to add a little pleasant fragrance and even elegance to an otherwise ugly and demented situation.

BING, BANG, SLAM, WHAT A BUNCH OF LOVE FUCKING ROACHES WITH ZERO MANNERS, PIGS RAISED BY TOTAL PIGS, AND THEN SOME, HUH? You know what fucking irks me right about now, is my old friend Amy. Just how did the great lovely blond laugh-spitter from so long ago, or her mom really, know that the virgin Madonna was really named Mariloo? Emy and Amy can double on the Astral Plane, as any three letter word ending in the EEEE sound, has totally interchangeable A and E vowels, as we would perceive this language in our English native tongue. Lou being short for Lewis when male named or Louise when female named; now brings us to the name Emmy Louise, who went onto be known to the world as the material girl as well as 'Madonna'. Laugh that one into a binge folks.

Anyone anywhere, with the knowledge on just how to accomplish this, can begin teaching subatomic particles to recognize them individually, and teach them a communication skill. What happened to me after I began working at the RPL Sound Recording Studio of Camden, New Jersey, USAESMWG in the end of July of 1979, or 33 years ago right to this time these words will be posted; is complicated to the point of calling it a double horizon knowledge barrier or a DHKB for a short abbreviation. No matter how you try and understand it, you are chasing something that spits back into your face, 3 or 5 or 95 questions, for each new answer that you discover. It is not done as a cruel cosmic trick, but is built into the lawtronics of the circuitry so to speak, of everything. Cosmos desires to tell us all, but it knows the entire time, the futility of our being able to ever catch this cat tail. It is not laughing and saying, learn this and I will make you dumber and cause you to need to learn a lot more since you went and learned such and such. The truth is just the opposite. Truth in its quintessential absolute form, wants to be always fully revealed. However, it never can be, because there is too much truth. If learning this full truth requires so much mental storage power of say a combined human as well as robotic brain system, that same truth sadly recognizes as part of its truth core, that there must always be a lesser amount of possible ability of accepting all truth or accurate information. Sim[pl;er put than this, for every one pound of mind that can learn some of the whole absolute deal, there will be at least two pounds of truth desiring to communicate itself to those desiring to be enlightened by it. The Quantum Physics Labs all came to super life for me when I tried to get to the bottom of very seemingly simple things, only they were not, because they had quantum reality connected with them, such as the songs I wrote in the early eighties such as GITYA. Every person on Earth could all get together and make it their business to try and figure out this entire matter, and as they reach their first light year of really seeing and getting it so to speak, also revealed in that light year, is 2-5 more new light years to check out. The more we come to learn and know, the more we become certain that we have endlessly ever more stuff to learn, so we learn that we are dumber and dumber. Learning this, actually is making us smarter and smarter, but still all the same, we get dumber and dumber next to the entire maximum truth at void infinity, all collectively cohabiting. The irony is the greener grass syndrome. I wold trade places in a heartbeat with a normal person that would not understand one word I'm saying here. They on the other hand, in their fear of extinction and search for immortality, if they could somehow just know that what I know would and could bring them their hearts desire in this particular parameter of their conscious mind; they would want to trade places with me without batting an eyelash. Both knowing totally better if this could be the case, only the greener grass illusion always insists on preventing that without fail, so we all want the other side of the greener grass. Figure out humankind and you would own Wall Street in one afternoon. I have always boldly said that. I'm watching the planet I live on, going to hell in a heavy hand-basket. There is nothing that can prevent it. Smart people already see it has begun. I am not speaking of some huge war or terror plot or even a humanity wipe out virus, or any of these twisted and frightening scenarios. To this day, folks remain clueless to how our world was successfully invaded a long time ago. Old blogs dare to scratch some surfaces. In any case, keep on keeping on everybody, after-all, are there really any dirtier or lower business persons, than bankers? Capitalism is li9ke technology. While it works and functions properly within design specifications, things are quite wonderful. When it breaks down, it is the ugliest of all systems imaginable. Still, not all things revolve around money, look at Sir Nick. He did not make a dime out of busting up my hubcaps with a mallet. Still, he did it. Go figure!

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