Saturday, October 20, 2012

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0602














SAFE JUORNAL, CHAPTER DCII

KING OF PROPHET OF NOTHING HELL-1988 © OFFICE

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUBER FOUR (BSNF):

SATURDAY AND WEEKEND HELL STIKE, AS NORMAL”

<<\\WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295//>>

SBT-DATFILE: 102012.693 (X-XX-XII.DCXCIII)

AND OBVIOUSLY, RAPIDLY APPROACHING THE BIG DELTA



STARTING OF THE BLOG:



Let me tell what happened. Every time I do anything at all with certain things, my nabes who obviously have been contacted and quietly via monetary remuneration, and being compensated for their cooperation, to persecute the hell out of me, at precise times, are doing their job quite well. Back in the spring of last year this began while I lived at the 26th Street house up in the hood of Fort Fierce, when I tried getting to the bottom of it, as I did in 1983 with AT&T and Miss Blake and later Mister Rambo in 1984, all I got was major huge grief, and of course the world famous UFO-BRICK WALL TREATMENT, and many can relate, so don't even think about denying and lying. The world has many various views on the powers, both human, and from the worlds beyond human, regarding what is happening to all of us and has been since quite a while now, and more and more folks do indeed know for certain, that this is not some shared false illusion, but a dangerously real nightmare and truth that is all encompassing and is not going to just pack up soon, and go away.





L-4 and all others up here, I want to share what happened to me two springs back, when one day I went to use my computer, this same one I am using now, purchased at the fort Pierce Walmart Store in December of 2010, along with a coworker by the name of Clay coins. We were going to use it as a partnership and were planning to sign up with the TD, and do day trading on Wall Street. Naturally, as with any and all things that I've ever attempted to undertake since leaving mother fucking high school, I was stopped in my tracks instantly, just as when I tried running that little mail order business back in 1974 and the WOMO was just waiting for me as though they had been waiting to just TURN ON from the gods only know where and begin this horrendous fucking shit for me that has never even looked back to so much as grin, ever since.





One day in the spring of 2011, I suddenly appeared to be switched over to across the nation, a place on 36th Avenue in San Mateo, Cali4nya. What happened was I tried to Google a path from my house here on 26th Street in Fort Pierce, Florida, to some local place, and ended up realizing that I was at some A-position in their system, at this location. A little leg and detective work allowed me to take a neighboring area out there, and track back to ask GOOGLE MAP how to get from there back to where 'I am supposing living'. This is how things got real wild, and eventually, Ultimate Fighter David became a powerful enemy and he was over me at my job at the Harvest place, there website address is as follows, http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and he made my life hell. He was pals with Deezy Slim, and they were the two coolest peeps at the place, all big rapper types are that get real street cred. But Darius was my friend too, and this limited what old David from Smithtown, New York could do to me and get away with it, all though I was getting calls from the local county jail from a BOO who I certainly don't know, and other wild calls about ending up in a bin, and I know who the dudes were, Ultimate fighter David and his pal who later went to the Vero Beach store, as Harvest now has numerous county stores as you'll see by accessing their website. They were not picking on me for no reason, I know Nick was behind it. I may appear to be a moron, but I know how to add up one plus mother fucking one. So I decided eventually after Comcast Cable, intentionally destroyed my evidence that this Google maps thing had proven, and could not be duplicated, right out of the fucking spy movies only we're talking about my fucking god dam real life here folks, YO; copying 1983 and 1984 when I could not get anywhere way back then even when my kid was 13 and 14; proving SHE HAS TO BE ALL MIGHTY SCYLLA, still, nothing is total proof of anything, things merely keep pointing towards or away from this fact, and the enemies are great tactical deceivers, using the great tool against me known as CONFUSION, as discussed on blog number DCI, and was obviously not much appreciated, by the WOMO-MILITUFORCE, YO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







So I called the SHERIFF'S OFFICE one day and talked with somebody close to Sheriff Greg Monks, and, and ten minutes later a call from some Spanish speaking folks came in with a number 650-***-**** and I will not go into more detail. Then fifteen minutes after this, and after not hearing from anyone in this wild family since I ran away from my kid's discount cousins or her 600's in Roman numeration for a little lightening up laugh here, YUK-YUK and TEE-HEE; the phone rings, and the caller-ID box said, DAWN KING, and I almost got a real honest heart attack. I later braved up and called back, and Ann King answered, and told me that her daughter Dawn-Marie had passed away a couple months back on New Years Day. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Still, this dam family from 1970, or as I called them from the 1970 dreams that I kept getting while staying at CHILD MOLESTER'S HOME ON CORNWALL AVENUE IN VENTNOR, New Jersey, “THAT FAMILY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The odds that Ann would call right after this other west coast branch of THAT FAMILY called, and right after my talk with the assistant to SHERIFF GREG MUNKS, both of these branches called, would be millions or more to one against being some wild random set of coincidences, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, my pants have all burned up, DAVID, All-Knower of all the Suffolk County, New York peeps, while managing to not know any of the mother fucking snooty GOTTWALD or HUNTINGTON branches of me and my roots, YO. WOW, I am so impressed with all of this hellish harassment, Aunt Geraldine Shah Snow Mason of 1967, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Yes at 11:30 on the dot, Pacific Time, my across the hall nabes, seem to always start blasting me out, with their loud thumping miserable music. Another BOTBAR DAY, but then, as Lenny Briscoe might say so well on “Law & Order”, “Still, what else is new”? What is it about 2:30 my time, I wonder? This is always or at least 90% of the time,that this begins, and seems to be timed to the minute, almost as though these persecuting mother fuckers have their stereo system on a timer switch, I know you can purchase these devices for ten bucks at a Walmart store, I should know, I used to have five or more of them, before THAT FAMILY, took everything I had away from me, and are still LAUGHING AT ME. WOW, no wonder my kid can laugh at those horrible stair chases, if she can laugh at so much of this stuff, now things are seen in a new light. You see, the real CANNON is not some hubby, but a list of scriptures that ancient POPES of the VATICAN decided to keep, and others to KEEP OUT, of what now is the commonly used bibles. Some including the life of Jesus before he was twelve and before any public mention or records are there, but THEY KNOW ABOUT THE WEED SUCKING BAYS AND THE ROOF PUSHES. What really are the odds that Benedict the XVI would come to a church just yards down the road from the home I was kidnapped in by Dawn King in late 2008, and then he wrote those powerful things about space aliens, come on folks, just how dense are some of you, YO????????????????????????



















PLEASE, WON'T YOU JUST TRY AND HELP ME SHERIFF MONKS, SIR, P-L-E-A-S-E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



WOW, WOW, WOW, WOW, YO, they are killing me sir, why would I make this all up and end up in all sorts of shit????????

THIS BLOG ENDS HERE,    YO!
 




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