SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0581
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
STARTING
BLOG:
THIS
BLOG MAY BE SUBTITLED AS
“DIRTY
POOL, CAN BE RETURN PLAYED, MY FRIENDS”
Early
on Wednesday morning, the third of October, old friend and Federal
Communications Chairman, Robert McDowell of Fort Wayne, Indiana, I
was watching the final episode of a normal Tuesday night Marathon of
SVU-L&O, on my Comcast Cable television, and at 43 minutes past
midnight, I tried to flick off a commercial I don't like, and the
system froze up for no good reason, just like back early last summer
that night with the show, “GHOST WHISPERER”, check out my old
blogs from this time, it is all up there folks. I had to take my TV
remote, and flick it over to DVD from TV, to get rid of the stupid
commercial. This does not just happen randomly, as even persecution
against me, is not, nor has it ever been, a totally random old dog,
my peeps, YO, it is very formulated and controlled, down to nth
degrees that I'll openly admit, go way past me at this point, as far
as trying to analyzing them successfully.
The
WOMO-MILITUFORCE enemy, does not like my doing particular things,
this became apparent transparent to me within five years or so into
this serious persecution that all mother fucking began, here we go
again folks, on AUGUST 15TH
IN 1986, hay, I cannot help this, I need to print this
rotten fucking date over and over, because it is relevant to things I
am saying on blogs, over and over again, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Obviously
someone on my father's side of my family, is connected or was, to
either Jennifer, the show, both, or some kind of combination. After
all that has happened, it is more than just difficult for me to
believe that the show that Ann put me onto along with THE MENTALIST,
is not connected. If it was just for Jay, I could say hmm, but since
I have never bothered to try and check out the extreme details of my
father's lineage that broke off two generations ago into three lines
from females born in the generation just prior to that one, and only
did the male line back to match the home library that my mom had, a
very antiquated three tier glass pull over shelving piece of 19th
century furniture, with many wild books in it, now of course, all
lost to the trash, the Fibbies, or the
All Mighty Biblical Kings.
On
my 21st
birthday, my mom wanted me to read a book that she did not want me to
read until that age as she had old fashioned ideas, basically my
parents were only a few years out of the nineteenth century, both
born in September of the 19th
year of the nineteen hundreds. If here, they would be 93 years old.
Crossed over now, as Mizz Hewitt would put it so well, and I don't
miss them, or anyone else in my totally messed up family. All I ever
wanted in this rotten life is to be left alone, and people love to
fucking bother me, as if I'm some fucking ass rock star, it is so
ridiculous, I am nothing, nobody, can't fucking people just leave me
alone? They sure do when I want help from any of them, and I am
always offering to pay well for services rendered. But when any of
them want something from me, then of course, that is a totally mother
fucking different story entirely. Anyway, in this home-library, and
in this one book, the story was told about my father and his ancestor
who was a very wild slave girl from a long time ago, around the time
where the 18th
and 19th
century came together or there about. I would not be here nor would
my dad have ever lived, if this girl or the dude she forced herself
on one day sexually; had been caught, as later on, after the child
came; a secret romance did bloom between them, and in those days that
speed one of two words, lynching, or hanging. Death resulted the same
way from either, but one was more and one was less, legal and
official. Wow has this fucking world come a long way, yet every time
we think it has, things come about where we all know that even if all
of us were the same right down to our tiniest pimples, just to spice
up life, folks would create and invent ways to hate each other, if
they had to take a knife and scar some of the other folks up, so we
could have the scar people. This is humanity, and like it or not, we
will always be fucking doomed, not to a physical extinction all that
of course that inevitability is literally written into the program of
the universe, as the entire universe on the fourth dimension, has a
length in its time, as if that matters above D-3, but I am speaking
here of the doom of humanity that results in us just being what we
are, basically put, all a bunch of worthless fucking jerk offs, me on
the top of the list, and it must be so, Aunt Barbara, or else why is
the collective of humanity hating me so much and doing all of this to
me?
Now
to build a little foundation on this blog, we talked about the
ancestor of my father who was as black as the ace of spades, a great
big beautiful goddess, to hear the story told in the secret diaries
of the family. This girl had parents from across the Atlantic ocean,
one from Africa and one from Portugal. They had to run away together
because of the way things were in those days, and some stories in the
book tell of them going down to Brazil and their offspring ending up
marrying and fathering offspring slowly north towards Mexico as time
passed on. How true this is, is not fr me to most likely ever know,
and frankly, I don't really care, Congressman Greatvoice, and no my
peeps, that was not a synth-vocode creation, that was a totally
genuine recording. Not all my stuff is taken from things I taped on
the phone and then turned into vocode language in twelve semitone
pitched vibrations. Moving on without the dementia kicking in too
much peeps, WHAAAAAAAA, in my old age; and I admit to nearly sixty,
actually, you could put a million zeros after the number and it would
not come close to my real fucking age, let me keep tying a foundation
together and then move things right along for you.
There
were other brothers, and the second oldest was deeded the North
Caroline Cotton Plantation, it had a name and I knew it, but that was
at age twenty one in my present human personality, and I have had
millions of them in many ice-age-cycles, as well as in and throughout
the entire gargantuan fifth dimensional waking world hyperspace; and
you all have these other YOU'S as well, but since you are not
enlightened, your so-called memory is blocking it out. This is your
UNCONSCIOUS
MIND.
It blocks out all of the real powerful things, the interactions we
are having on the ASTRAL
PLANE,
and even our absolute truest existence at the
VOID INFINITY or zero dimension.
This is a realm, just not one that any possible human conscious
thought can connect with or into, so trying to 'GET IT' will just
serve to waste your time folks. I don't talk a lot about my dad or
his family, and concentrate more on the HUNTINGTON lineage, my mom
and her mom, and her dad, and his dad, if memory is serving. This
never goes more than three females off the line, if I am correct. I
maxed out as a boy, and being number three, if I had been born a
girl, this curse would not be on me, as no female gets this curse,
Goddess is females, and will only allow a male to catch this wicked
disease. Actually, SHE is not female, male, or the new age concept of
'combale'. They do not use the word yet, but will in 40 years or so
in many of the parallel universes of the hyperspace. Goddess is a lot
more energy than we are, and so are HER family, made up of two main
parts, the Krassle's, and the Zudlowcrone's. The Zudlowcrone's live
in Olympia Proper, and the Krassle's live in Sahasra Dal Kanwal. This
is on the Astral Plane, and they don't live, they are in endless
interactions that require no space dimensions or time dimensions. But
let us get back to the human world and my father, and other
whispering ghosts. Blogger Website owned by Google, seems to have
removed all of my 2006 and most of my 2007 blogs, beginning with the
Old Testament of Morianity Bible, unless I just do not know how to
pull it up. If indeed, this is all lost, it was intentional, as the
KINGS removed a lot of my powerful words through the years, on
cassette tape, from this reality, and other forces in the family are
doing their utmost best of removing me as well. They are trying to
make me vanish and disappear like a ghost. Well I refuse to go
quietly folks, and they mother fucking know that well enough. They
also removed my story told on the website,
www.morianity-foundation.com/
as you can see by clicking on it. I hereby claim now that my song
called, “YOU'LL BE
CROSSING OVER”,
© 1983 and 2012, is my next Psalm. I lost track of the numbers, it
is all on past blogs, but you as a MORIANITY society some day, may
later decide to continue their progressing numbers; but I merely am
going to title them now, and this is the title of the next one. You
all ready have the lyrics or words, and the BIBLE originally written
via ETTOS control and Sarah-Stacey Krassle; also is without the
music, so no big deal.
Now
the reason why I took the attack with Comcast early this morning,
which will result in a late payment of my bill, as when they don't
mess with me, I do pay on time, and when they fuck with me, I pay
late, sawn fucking them folks; is the same reason I took the attack
yesterday, Tuesday, in the building here where I reside. First off,
there is a huge thing going on here, and my letter will be hand
delivered to the Property Manager tomorrow, either at this building,
or the one down the road half a mile or so, that is visible right out
my frikkin window up here on the sixth floor facing northward. No one
on Planet Earth would ever believe all the truths, but those that I
can prove are documented in the letter. This apartment is no
different than many apartments in my past, that the ENEMY uses, to
fuck with me from. It did not begin below me at 1802 Robin Hill with
that whore Playboy Bunny friend of Debbie Harry Blondie either, this
goes all the fucking cunt way back to the starting time that I was on
my own after age twenty-one, living in Stratford, New Jersey, across
from the John Kennedy Hospital, where they took my mother after she
died and they brought her frikkin back, on 26 December of 1997 around
half past mother fucking five in the moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning.
Now
there was a major reason for why they fucked with me that night last
summer with the television as was blogged, while I was watching the
show, “GHOST WHISPERER”, and then right afterward, OFF WENT THE
SHOW FROM THE CABLE TELEBVISOON LINEUP, WOW, LOOK HOW FUCKING INSANE
THE MOUNTAINPEN IS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then what
commercial was I trying to shut off just a while ago when they froze
up the entire remote system and interfered with my civil and human
rights with this fucking diseased persecution of theirs? That stupid
copycat DARK SHADOWS crap junk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to
switch my TV-REMOTE from the TV setting over to the DVD until it was
over, then I pulled the plug and reset the system. They will get a
late payment for fucking the hell with me when I do nothing to them
except be a loyal fucking customer and PAY MY BILLS TO
THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
is there a random or a pattern to this persecution, all of it, aerial
, property, utility, noise, people being hostile, and on I could go?
You can fucking cunt bet your sweet ass on it, ANNIE CORNFIELDS
COSTNER IOWA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is NOT
SOME RANDOM FUCKING SHIT FOLKS, YO!!!!!!!!!
Do I have any of the details to what I am saying right now, all
worked out? NO I DON'T good people, I am no further ahead today than,
oh no, here we are again, 08-15-1986. You know L-4, I see this
fucking ass date in my God dam ass sleep, I kid you not good
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then how can I claim
I know it is not random, you may be asking, well if you are, I am a
tellin' folks, WHAAAAAAAAAA. ROULETTE, that is how. Just as my
fucking mother back in the nineties would not stop channeling with
the supernatural via ordinary playing cards, I use them too, the
difference is, she claimed that divination was a biblical sin and
that she was a born-again-Christian, so she was a hypocrite, and she
was a fool, and she died as a result of this, and it way too complex
to get into all of the nitty gritty nasty ass fucking details right
now ion this one single blog. I am not a BAC. I don't buy into any of
that mother fucking stupid nonsense. I used to, and then, I
GREW FUCKING UP.
I
left Santa Claus, and the Kirshty Disney Alley Tooth Fairy, and the
Easter Bunny, and Alf and all of them, behind, where they belong, on
the ASTRAL PLANE. Very old people and little children exist here in
this realm, but they can share a cool duality with both planes, that
most of us don't have the luxury of doing while here and supposedly
awake. But moving back to the apartment, it is sublet out to many
government people who just pretend to be poverty welfare cases, and
then make lots of noise at exact times, just to fuck with me. Sounds
delusional, sick, paranoid, and over sensational, huh folks? Well, I
have ears too, and it does, yet it is real, and unfortunately, I
cannot just dismiss what I know is really mother fucking happening to
me all of my life, for reasons basically none other than I am the
chosen one to be under the HUNTINGTON
CURSE
in this family line at this period in time. It really is just that
simple, right RED SOUPMAN JOHN, from 1969? The 'LINGLONG
HACK'
is back, as notice on the prior blogs, the 'I' and the 'O' were
fucking with me, that one and the
'SMALLS' attack
such as Atlantic
(city),
no matter how much I bang down on my fucking CAPS key on this stupid
fucking cunt keyboard, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do I have some guesses about stuff, in addition to just my roulette,
that tells me that this timed-attack verses random-attack, seems to
point in the TIMED direction, oh sure I do, plenty of them. First,
the roulette. I can do some things that prove things beyond anything
Hawking or Einstein have ever tried to do mathematically. I did not
realize it at first, then spent years trying to fucking disprove what
was happening because it mother fucking pissed me off like crazy. I
could not, it was not disputable. Now for the guesses on top of what
I proved with the math, folks, let me just make this as simple as I
can. The
GHOST WHISPERER show died
when I was in the early stage of trying to get the song done, posted,
and copyrighted, and what son/Psalm am I talking about, well, gee,
could it be, “You'll Be Crossing Over”, by any wild ass chance,
good folks, WHAAAAAAA??????????
As
for why the attack tonight with freezing shit up on me, well, a lot
of stuff has been talked about with the LAMBRIGG
CULT OF THE ASTRAL PLANE,
the show DARK SHADOWS, called them the LEVIATHANS. No one has a clue
how powerful all of this is. It is why that great show, as well as
Haddonwood Swimming Club, just went POOF one day, and did a Merlin
vanishing act, and went off the airwaves. So
did Ghost Whisperer.
Some powerful BRIGGBASE FORCE interfered with my doing this song,
ever since I took on the dam fucking cunt project almost a half year
ago. I won't ever quit. They can delay me, and delay me, but it will
get copyrighted, posted, and known about, in full living details,
because it is why I spent my entire adult life sickly and violated,
to this very day. It is also why Shorty MacInvondi who ghosts as
Donald Trump, is all such a powerful mother fucking part of all of
this hell all these fucking cunt years. I plan to tell a lot more
details about all things blogged today, later on, but now, here is a
little tid bit of stuff from GAWKY
GAUKAUK,
my wonderful magic cat of meowing-DIE's from 1980 and 594 boxes and
bars and fat ladies laps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jane
Slutweeds is striking me very hard these days with her continual and
unrelenting mother fucking ONES
ATTACK,
page eleven of eleven, so let me compensate and cunt phlegm rape,
thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555
plus 555555555555555 times 5555555555555555555 and divided by
555555555, is equal to I DON'T FRIKKIN KNOW, AND I DON;T FRIKKIN
CARE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A moron
retarded child would be able to see with electric eels attacking,
that I am a tortured pathetic soul, being endlessly persecuted. It
has nothing to do with MEDS, I don't take MEDS, just my ATIVAN to
keep me from choking to death from this unknown PRIVECODE
electromagnetic condition of mine, that I know totally cured me from
dying of AIDES in the eighties. 555555555555555555555555555555555555.
When
the harassment is not off the scales bad, notice how my blogs reflect
that I am not as up set, less or no cursing, less of the
'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!', less of the 'YO', the 'BRO', the
'hood talk', Christ I'm a fucking Huntington for gods sake. I don't
do this for effect, they get me genuinely so fucking up set that I
have to let it out, so what should I do, shoot up a mall or a
mickey-D, or just curse on my blog and use lots of extra
punctuations????????????????????????
OK,
down to cases, with some recent GAWKY
GAUKAUK
NUMEROLOGY,
good folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
I
asked GAGA KITTY, why my nabes are five times worse than ever in all
the time since they have been here over the past three weeks and
especially since the very end of September and into October, and was
given the following answer?
…....................PCN-541.............................
The
thing that jumps out at me like a cannon ball out of many things with
this number in my match-list book, is what Sarah Krassle said in 1969
to folks that came driving down 10-SC Avenue on Memorial Day, “Your
friends are in the
shop”.
Many wonder how anyone could remember so perfectly what a teenage
girl said on one particular day and not even to me but to someone
else, but she saw me first, and said it real loud. It was destined
for me to never ever forget these powerful words, laugh all you want
folks. Yes, it major has to do with what is going on around me right
now.
I
then went onto ask GAGA KITTY, What are the biggest secrets in
ATLANTIC CITY, being covered up, that pertain to ME, and was given
the following answer? …....PCN-918.......
Get ready to fucking ejaculate into your underwear good peeps, as
here are some of the items that are in match-list book for this
number:
MY
CHOKING CONDITION-----WASHCLOTH-----LIGHTNING-----JUNE FOUR NINETEEN
EIGHTY THREE-----BE CAREFUL-----IS AN ANGEL-----DISTRICT OF
COLUMBIA-----
Them
ultimate biggie was saved for last good folks. Only MORIANS will
appreciate it. I asked Gawky Gaukauk why I had that powerful Sunday
morning EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION, changed made life both unbearable,
and monstrously hellish; ever since awakening out of it, to use the
forward-mortal and wrong way of seeing things in an illusion, but
yes, what was this powerful “DREAM” Sunday morning all really
about, is what I asked the mighty black cat, GAGA? Here is what GAGA
told me-ow.....PCN-451.....
The main half of the items in my match-list book are as follows that
match this number, if you doubt me, you do the GAWNUM work, just
GOOGLE up how to do it on my blogs.
KING-----WVLT-----VICTORIA
CALLIO-----TAWF-----HARBORFIELDS HIGH SCHOOL, DEF JAM RECORDS-----
The
GAWNUM
is a very surreal and fascinating thing folks. It can keep one active
and never bored. The more skill you get out of trying to phrase
things so that two sentences get a match up or compatibility, or not,
the more you will get your mind blown out like lightning striking a
ten watt light bulb, really, a very perfect example.
I
am tired and need to crash and burn out to sleep folks. There is so
much to tell, I could speak for days and weeks without stopping for
so much as a cup of tea and a nice chat with Patty Jane. Life goes
on, Jack and Diane, and everybody else, so let us move forward. I
will speak a lot more to my new friend, and soon I hope to send you
an e-mail. Don't give up on me, Einstein could not tie his own shoes,
or so goes the stories.
*******END
OF THIS BLOG*******
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