SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0577

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0577

TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“THEM AND ME, FOREVER 180 DEGREES APART”

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295

SBT-DATFILE: 092912.564

© MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012

SWORN VOLUNTARILY OATH TAKEN OF TOTAL TRUTH

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

It is Saturday afternoon in Fort Pierce, for me. It is not Drake Towers in Philadelphia, Sheriff Mascara kind sir. It is not San Mateo, California, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir, either. Still, this is starting out as another bad day, with the famous ASTRAL PLANE TOOL KNOWN AS “PAWM-PIE-ETTOS” from my WOMO-MILITUFORCE EXPLORATRON BRIGGBASE CULT ENEMIES, here in this waking world. At exactly one-eleven this afternoon, the door slammer across the hall woke me out of a sound sleep with a powerful slam, not at 1:10 or 1:12 or 1:04 or 1:16, no, but at precisely one eleven. 'THAT', kind android Star Trek ROCK, is not the equation; it is not a coincidence either. The last few days there are only two or three real loud slams, it is not an all day and night affair, still, it is as though they got revenge by doing it at an exact time so as my not being able to miss the event, and seeing the horrible time displayed on a clock. Well it did not work, as my mom always kept clocks five minutes fast, an absurd habit to keep her from being late, but I have seemed to have adopted this habit myself, now in my old age. Tell that to the beach goddess, as I said, enough continual persecution, and one day OTAMM will be eternally sorry, not for me, but FOR THEM. 555555555555555555555555555555 will compensate for that nasty attack on me. Next door is also messing with me, but it is not too bad, it is all within a more tolerable range. I thought things were bad when I was working, and now I have figured totally out, why WOMO ENEMIES hate me working and making a little bit of extra pin money. I would be able to go out when things get real bad around here, and break up the annoyances to a small degree. Without any money for gasoline to run the car, that is not only impossible, but literally makes it feel like I am in prison. I sit here day after day for six fucking months, thinking to myself, “Who did I kill, who did I assault, who did I rob, who did I rape, what did I do, so why am I in mother fucking dick licking jail? Then I think back further in time, and remember other times and similar situations, where at other previous times, I was in the very same sinking boat that I am now in. Then I would eventually find a little weekend job somewhere guarding some place, and pow, the enemies would make me suffer by pounding me with endless aerial assault, and a lot more shit done to me on the ground. When I occasionally was able to prove some ground attack was real, the police normally insisted on covering it up every time. How I can relate to the mother fucking poor UFO-answer seeking people. However, on one big point, I vehemently DISAGREE WITH THEM, kind Sheriff's, and L-4, and all others reading me. You see, they in their blissful ignorance are actually seeking to have an abnormal life by discovering aliens or whatever. I make no judgments here other than to draw you all a word picture, that will endlessly separate ME from any of THEM, those who are looking to find trouble, whereas ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED WAS TO BE ABLE TO LIVE A NORMAL AVERAGE LIFE IN THIS WORLD AS MARK WAYNE MOHR, whether anyone of you chooses to believe me or mother fucking not, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All my of my dam life, I try to stay out of trouble, and I try not to place myself into situations where this stuff would happen to me as a result. Whereas in contrast, those others who post videos on YOUTUBE, many I have shared with you my MORIANS, looking to expose the government or make trouble with the so-called airships that may not belong to the normal waking world airspace system, exposing secret groups or societies, and on and on, it is as though they are searching more for trouble or just perhaps some wild and weird exciting personal life. I don't say this to anger them, just to tell the truth, which does anger people unfortunately, and always has, leading to the crucifixion of one great religious leader who the world basis its entire calendar on today yet for the most part scoffs at as they do me, and why not, we are physically related, it is all in the family, Archie Bunker. I did not play down the boss I had over at the Harvest Job through the AARP PROGRAM, old red, AKA Jessica Grant, who got rid of me in the middle of last March and altered my life in ways that are beyond unspeakable and deplorable, forcing me to live in prison, as much as I may have hated that hard physical job, being a weak person and thus, mostly a security guard all of my life. I am A Huntington, a blue-blood, most of us are weak. Most ten year year old children can and always could, beat me in an arm wrestle. That is just the way it is. Dawn-Marie, mighty Highness King queen. In my younger days I could go workout and do wonders with gaining strength in short term bursts, but then I would totally wear out and give out, and within three years or so, little girls were pinning me in arm wrestles all over again. This is the way I am built as a blue-blood Huntington. I am what I am, oh great lovely and late, Dawn Marie King, and as you said so often back when you had me kidnapped under Stockholm syndrome in 2008-2009, “It is what it is”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! See folks, I am not making these things up. I am merely telling what has happened, who has said what, who has done what, and the resulting factor of me now exiled in a hellish doom, far from anything I am used to and always knew all my life, stuck in a roach invested place with roach putrid nabes, and a life filled with people who hate my guts and don't give a fucking shit about me other than to watch me or make me suffer. There was a boy dying of fucking cancer, on television, in the early springtime of 1983. How I will always remember him. He said when he meets God, he is going to punch him right in the nose. I feel the same way, only I know better. I don;t want to end up sucking weeds at the bottom of Huntington Bay for all eternity, listening to bull frogs and enemy dudes with strange number signs on their bodies. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, 2008 all over again, give me a break please, Elmer Fudd sir, thank you kindly. That huge star that went super nova recently, hmm, I'll bet that was that poor cancer kid making that horrendous mistake of punching god in the nose back in 1983, quite a show from Earth and physical reality space-time, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Ann King sits up there in luxury after doing all of this to me, watching and enjoying my 40 inch 5000 dollar television that I bought at American Appliances on the black Horse Pike in Mount Ephraim, New Jersey in late 1994. That big old clunker was one hell of a beauty queen television, and see, it still works just fine, and after moving to Somerdale, and then to Guthrie Short's mansion over in blue Anchor, then Hammonton at the Trailer Park, then to other three Hammonton homes where Ann and Dawn moved to, twice with me, and the final time, without me. Dawn only lasted a year after I left in middle December of 2009, and passed away Praise the Lord on January first in 2011. This is what people who wipe out my life will all eventually get, whether they believe it or not. They will pay the ultimate price for destroying my innocent life. They will get PAYBACK. So will all the peeps here today down in fort Pierce, as no one is immune. The Earthquake struck as I said it would, and the mother fucking crooked biased Mark Mohr hating media totally avoided telling the story, and this was not a tiny little quake, good folks. I said there was a quake coming, and it came. You can only access the information by going to GOOGLE and requesting 'latest earthquake activity'. Speaking of quakes, or Quakers, or even towns in Pennsylvania, the mighty Robert McGuire, did in fact tell me back in 1997 just as the other McGuire jets were roaring over and above us that day outside of his Irin Bar on the bottom floor of his Pittsburgh Hotel on Tennessee Avenue; that the local family had roots in Pennsylvania and that his father built the hotel in 1902. Well Prosecutor ADA Wirtz Senior, Carlisle is in Pennsylvania, and I was treated like a dog there when I traveled there with David Roth in June Hubcap time era of 1996, Kathy Gatherer, and so is the first mobile home that I lived in at ages six and seven, up high on a hill in the middle of a cornfield, and yes, the lightning dream was very real, Annie Costner, so go do some bodyguard work on a corpse for all I care, Kev. Still, I had lots of friends at the Richland School, Jacky Patteroff, Sky Cunesman, Jefferey Rosenhower, Tommy Coddonodo, Ann Reese, and Bobby Witherspoon, just to name a few, right Congressman?????????????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEE, where is mother fucking cunt lapping Rod Serling, when a man really needs him right there at his side, YO?????????? What other secrets does McGuire know besides this latest dig for Hoffa being a total waste of time, or even bigger secrets of this powerful powerful powerful awesome family from the stars, here to serve and be cursed, and even commingle, am I wrong car seller Moroni? Are you still the 10%-ME of the Mars Graphics Printing shop, old pal? Oh well, suck it up buddy, that wife of yours was hotter than the sun. If I ever tell the full story of the psychics, both in 1976 and again in 1996, the world will understand why it is better to believe that there is no unnatural order and so-called, 'spirit world'. People can only be so afraid, and then a human heart will literally destroy itself. Enough fear will cause a heart no matter how healthy, to explode, and the person will die instantly of cardiac arrest and massive heart attack. Send some flowers Frank Callio, you know where, only you and McGuire know exactly where, well maybe Trinidad Sat Sam knows too, but we can save those school bus rides for other traveling Julia White true stories that go beyond the permission barrier. I am thinking of doing just such a sequel folks, “Beyond the Permission Barrier”. If I ever do, and with all names and places altered, the world will still self destruct. You can think of it as the Gloomy-Sunday of the book world, only America does not ban things unless they are advocating government overthrow or detailed instructions for becoming a successful terrorist. Why anyone would want to hurt innocent people, eludes me. I know, I am hurt and damaged beyond repair, and I also know that I am innocent. Some don't think I am, and to them I sadly say, “GO SCREW YOURSELVES”. BYE-BYE folks.

ENDING TRANSMISSION: