SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0503
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
START
OF BLOG:
I
have survived past the horrible beginning of dependable nightmare
opener August. Hell a puke yuk, and praise the whored. Yes, LLLL, I
am a very pissed off man. Life has dealt me some shockingly severe
horrendous monstrous freaking blows, and I have every right to be
perturbed and dam right pissed off. I will only say a few things on
this blog. First, it will be a tweet, for me anyway, and will not be
including the next updated part of the story written by my mom back
in 1977, so look for the continuation of that on my next blog, SJ-CH
#0504.
The
asshole nabes are a pain in my royal ass, but they were somewhat more
under control and more human back on Friday, after totally ruining my
nerves since last fucking cunt weekend, YO. Not one soul on this
planet gives a fucking shit if I live or die, and you know what LLLL,
I don't give a fucking shit right back, so there,
non-adult-playground-rage of 2008 and 2009, WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!
There
is a very simple powerful weird secrets in the world of mathematics.
First, and whether you recognize all that I now say or not, it is all
basically mathematics in verbal form in one way or another. About 9
to 9.8 out of 10 folks who know about me, think they can judge me
based on their human experiences, and they are full of smelly lizard
crap, with or without the dirt bag General Insurance Company,
sometimes called this, other times called, GE-NERAL I-NSURACE
CO-MPANY. Many have outright told me everything I stand for is hocus
pocus nonsense, and with ugly evil motives. Jimminy Crickets Dorothy
Twister, let me show you how full of total shit, this pack of fire
lies are; even though only the United States Library of the Congress,
has the evidence that backs this all up, and will doubtfully be
willing to share that with any common folks who could truly benefit
from this, proving reading Mountainpen is by no means, a waste of
anybody's time. Still, it is there and on file, and I know it and
they know it. Early into the eighties, stuff happened to me, not that
stuff did not happen to me seemingly from the day that my klutz
mother, dropped me in the street and fell hard, something I will not
soon forget, all though nearly 60 years of human fucking time has
indeed passed since that event in Philadelphia. Still, in late 1979,
things began to happen that may very well in various ways have
happened in part, to any of you out here reading my words, I can't
know that one way or the other, and won't speak for another. Still,
life consists of more than events. It is a combination and
interaction between stuff happening around us all, and then, the way
that we deal with and personally decide to react back as each and
every little thing comes into our lives, or at least as this appears
to be the case in waking world conscious mind illusion.
Details
right now don't matter. The full story of what I would really like to
tell right now, would take weeks of sitting here non stop typing, and
that is not feasible, and you would not read it all wither, let's be
real/e here, fagot molester Tommy. And by the way folks, what a
person's sexual orientation is, is totally their business, except for
child molesters. Here I have been called horrible things for shit,
yet when it was me back in time getting the dog shit rammed up my
fucking ass at light speed squared, that seems to just be totally OK
with the world and the society. Fuck me, I don't fucking count for
shit, and we all know why, and Dave Roth shouted it loud and clear,
and the Copyright Office has it, and knows exactly WHAT'S GETTING
FUCKING SAID RIGHT NOW!!! This will all tie in, so I mention the ©
office a bit on this blog, and they know that I went back into time
to 1983 and did what I could to make things all work out, and yes, I
failed quite horrifically. Still, the problem is a bit clearer today
than it has been in many many many mother fucking years, folks. I
know a lot more now, and have great respect for the mighty branches
of the Washcloth Washburn Watsonclues family of my past, present, and
future, who's kidding who? Biker Sarah, drink some water, imprison me
in light houses and utility companies, do what you want to me you
crippled up bitch, but I know some things about all of you down there
in that rotten crooked sick twisted city, that you sure as shit
Trudeau don't want me to know about, that I'll promise you, and the
WOMO, so WO, MO! You guys are fucking geniuses, so watch out for
these twisted bastards, old pal Regis Philbin, you don';t have to
believe my powerful story of exploratronics and my dealings with
these monster ass fire star people, but I would stay away from them
if I were you, and no Paula, I am not threatening anyone, just trying
to help my old pal before you get your evil sick clutches into the
poor nice fella. I have the tape I brought it down to florida with
me, and was taping the radio at Cifaloglio that day and that weekend,
and yes, am still am a hanging Huntington, without McGuire coming
around with his dam matchbook and lighter. We buried the Queen of
Dish detergent, you're next you oversized piss puddle firebug
property destroyer. You ever mess with my daughter you sick mother
fucker, and I'll tear you limb from limb and your mom won't know who
the shit you are. But getting back to math and off of firebug
nutcases, you all planned the entire mess. I was happy with my little
minimum wage weekend job, my disability benefits, and living in that
fucking little crumby trailer over at Jenny's fucking Mullica, New
Jersey park. But no, you dick heads, you and Trump wouldn't leave
fucking shit alone, and had to wreck everything, and cause me to lose
everything, and be down here alone and miserable and suffering and in
the worst mother fucking hell in the fucking cunt lapping multiverse
you sick twisted sons of prick ass bitches. Yes GAGA, that 333 told
me a lot when I drilled the hot living piss out of it mathematically,
YO. What a lot of peeps don't know or need to know for that matter,
is that many secrets are kept that go far beyond silly shit like
flying alien saucers or ghosts, so let me cross over now to make my
point and sign off and be done with this dam ass blog for the dam ass
night, BRO. With a tiny little coded information, humankind becomes
the gods. With a little bit of decoded information, the cycle reverts
back and the gods become humankind. This does not happen over eon
time spans, but in quick continual bursts of unknown energy so gimme'
a break with that beating heart TNT, Mariena Krassle and your
wonderful BOB, AKA my good friend and associate in the fight against
air pollution, and a real PRINCE to boot, BOOK OF BEACH, where we get
the abbreviation of BOB, like 2006 Hyundai cars and, DUHHHH!!! There
are several powerful secret math equations that prove how anything
can be done with hardly a whisper of effort. On top of that, I went
back into time, and gave proof that my entire story on these blogs,
as well as in the LOC of Washington, DC; is totally inescapable, like
1997 daughters perhaps, who can ever know all there is to know when
we face the real barrier of any permission, that I have labeled the
'DHKB' or DOUBLE HORIZON KNOWLEDGE BARRIER. The very words, I no
longer have the tape, and the Callio branch of this great awesome
clan made sure of all that with a little help from their Beetle and
non Beetle friends such as the ex-mayor and doppelganger Frank Trump
Exploratron, but that were asked of me by them, the LOC, in late 1984
or the very start of 1985, before things were all planned to start
turning into a monstrous pile of pig shit times the vigintillion
power of a billion, but the doubters who now all say I am a liar and
full of sickness and horseshit, once asked me and I quote them, “How
do I do what I do, and what equipment do I use.” This was a number
of years before the “What makes you think, Mister Mohr” days, oh
how the memory lingers and glitters in my messed up little mind of
the DAG COPIES!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEEEEEIT. To honest openly and
honestly, I only do what Mister Krassle has told me to do all along.
I also have a copy of a really cool book that most of you have also,
and all would claim to perhaps, if asked publicly. I refer to Holy
Christian Scripture, for those in that billion strong religion. It
seems a lot of family members just do what he says, OR ELSE, you
know, the wrath of him will abide on us, and so on and so forth, and
you know folks, don't be in some big ass hurry to ever doubt those
words, but WOW, Paula WAYV, talk about a real threat, straight from
very high heavenly places. Maybe we will never be able to control our
wonderful daughter, so let us work on just keeping her happy,
remember who rules around here, as cute as you are, Pedigree wiggly
but dog, you are, and never will be, SCYLLA, you will never look like
HER, or SING like her, forget it, wiggly nose-102. So the first time
planes hit the skyline, it was the ES Building. I wonder sometimes
how many more plane to building collisions are inevitable? We nearly
had a mid air collie just this week, it is all over the news. Reagan
didn't fool, he fired all the dam controllers for not going off
strike, how I will remember those days well, from 1802 Robin Hill,
but if it was up here in June 2012 on the 17th day, it
would be more like, THIEF-IN-HELL. I despise fucking criminals. Put
me on any jury, and I will be the lone hold out every time, I SAY
HANG THEM ALL HIGH. IF THEY'RE HERE IN COURT, THEY'RE FUCKING GUILTY.
I have been the victim of enough dirty filthy fucking criminals, and
I am sick of being hurt, stolen from, pushed around, and bullied by
this element of low life scum from all walks of life. Ponzi schemes
prove that crooks can be up at 130th in Harlem, as well as
down at Broad and Wall, we all know this, yes, I hate rotten
criminals, and am not afraid to shout it out, SC JOHNSON FAMILY
CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanx for stealing my entire life
you bastards, even my dam daughters as how low can anyone get. It
makes the best subwoofer sound like a fucking high end tweeter horn,
YO. Well BRAHH it is time to go and good luck and goddess speed to
all the nice and good folks of the planet. I have nothing but good
wishes for those who have not hurt me over and over, and nothing but
fury and contempt for the despicable and detestable folks who hurt
me, and l;augh, and think it's like chasing our kids around and up
the stairs to weither beat or rape them. I remember, I saw it go down
for real, not in some god dam movie, Lion
King!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I lived in that
house of horrors and I saw the original one as well. Doubt me, ask
the dam Copyright Office, and ask to hear all the so called AFS.
They'll know what these initials stand freaking for, believe me LLLL.
Sorry
about the NON-TWEET, get me going, and wow do I go but then the LOC
knows that one too, as they have all of my 1988 and 1989 original
Epitome of Harassment cassettes all just sitting there collecting
lots of dust.
**ENDING BLOG**
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