SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0528

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0528

KING OF BOTBARS AND HUNTINGTON CURSES

1:26 PM-EDST, 26 AUGUST, 2012, SUNDAY

BEGINNING OF BLOG:

This is another rotten day for the Mountainpen. A major neighborhood attack is back this weekend with noisy neighbors acting up, yelling yesterday, today door slamming from butt wipe directly across from me around the half past eleven time, one slam after another, and then last night night, came a nasty health attack, to quote Dave Roth, a Dark Shitholes Strike, that send him that night in 1989, right behind Roseann Delaney's house in Westmont, after some crud bag WOMOITE struck us with a wild strobing light device, at the Westmont, New Jersey High Speed Line train station on Crystal Lake Avenue, just barfing distance from Billy Harner's Barber Shop, on Haddon Avenue, if he was there at that time, as that is not known to me presently, nor do I really give a mother fucking shit to be quite honest, and if I am entitled to spress myself on the subject here. I am also a disbeliever that hurricanes are real, as all they ever talk about is all this damage, and I have lived in mother fucking media hype Florida nearly three years now, and have never seen fucking squat, folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! Today was supposed to be a big deal around my area, or so said the weather exerts for the past few days, but it is all just a dud out lode of pure crap, not even a gusty breeze or a raindrop, just somewhat overcast skies. I will say that just minutes after I posted up SJ-CH-0527, my previous blog, a lovely bolt of gorgeous colorful lightning, struck right outside less than half a mile away. It was just the one strike as if to tell me that the message was received. I did hear one clap of thunder around the time of the door slamming attack this morning. Storms tend to make irrational people, act crazier than they normally do, crazy as that may seem to sound, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

HELP ME DIANA, I HAVE HORRIBLE ENEMIES WHO WANT ME DESTROYED AND DEAD, POWERFUL EVIL FUCKING FOLKS, JUST AS SCOTT RANSOM SAID TO ME IN MY BUGGED AUTOMOBILE BACK IN LATE 1988, BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT A LIFETIME OF BEING ALL TAPED AND BUGGED UP.

My dad was a treasure hunter, and worked with the largest treasure salvers of his time, Mister Melvin Fisher, and Mister Kip Wagner. I saw actual photographs that were shown to me by my mother years and years ago, taken by the federal government of my dad in a diving outfit down here in Florida, right where I am on this mother fucking treasure coast. There is no way, that the phones were not bugged in my life, since I was ten years old and my mom and I got a working phone at Westmont, after leaving center city Philadelphia, in the autumn of 1964, to start a new life in New Jersey, after a lot of sordid family fucking bull ass shit. They have tapes of it all, and thought it was funny to play some stuff of my own daughter at age two, over my phone in Moorestown, New Jersey in 1988, and the illustrious Copyright Office of the frikin United States, has a copy, on the original project sent down at that time, called, “THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, PART ONE, AND PART TWO”. I knew I heard the voice before 1988 and could not place it from the day that she actually invited me to come through a hole in a fence up on the island in 1972, and the rest is all known about and blogged, non General Broken-down Montgomery of WWll, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quoting lovely Charity Trask or Pansy Faye inside of her back in 1897, “Don't tell me what I know and what I don't know”, to Quentin Collins, or Count Petofi inside of him. All right my dear, you want a real test of memory. Try suffering through all this bullshit, my friends and fiends out here, MLI/L-4, and Whatever Andrews of Oak Street Haddon Heights, New Jersey in 1975, as I KNOW WHAT I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dispute me, disbelieve me, screw me, see if I give a rotten shit. DUH, yes, thank you, I will do this, and I hope this restores your waking world memory, with or without any war cowards or HSM movies, Walter, DERRRR, DUHHHH. I am getting so sick and tired of being endlessly fucking picked on by these horrendous wicked evil bastard bullies that I could shit in my hat and eat it as a fucking cunt lapping rotten raw sandwich, YO. What a monster ass fowl taste to leave in your mouth, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT.

ENDING OF BLOG, YO!!!!!!!!!!!