SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCXIII
WORLD
LABORATORIES ® OF 2293
SBT-DATFILE:
103012.074
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
BSNF:
“A DAY AS BAD AS 26 YEARS AGO, TO THE DAY”
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR MMVI-MMXII
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN/MORIANITY ®
'SWORN
VOLUNTARILY TAKEN OATH BY MOUNTAINPEN
UNDER
FULL PENALTIES OF SLANDER, LIBEL, PERJURY, AND DEFAMATION OF ANYONE'S
CHARACTER '
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Ladies
and gentlemen, yesterday the 29th day of mother fucking
October, just as was 26 years before that down at Donald
jit bag Trump Castle Casino Hotel of Atlantic city, New
Jersey; WAS THE CUNT EATING DICK SLOBBERING WORST
CRUD CHEWING DAY OF
MY ENTIRE LIFE,
YO GOOD
FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You
honestly will not believe it as I walk you through the day. I may
have forgotten some detail here or there and if so and if I later
remember, it will be blogged on a future blog, and you can connect up
the dots, but I am pretty dam sure that I'll remember the majority of
my day yesterday, and this will be the wildest mother fucking story
on the internet, including anything that 'Lookout-Sandy', from 1967
or 2012, all put together; and mixed with shit from the year of 1983
as well, may the gods fucking beware; could even hope to show or
tell. Now if you are not in the mood to get your mind totally
Von-Marcucci 1970 Thaxton BLOWN, then “get the hell
off this beach blog, GOVERNOR C” of Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!! You might
try switching over to Mandy Quiggley and her painted doll collection
from Europe, or try Elaina J. Flanagan, and her Irish veggies recipes
blogs, but stay here, and
you WILL get a Richard Marcucci, non hallway
secret, experience, I promise you, WOMO, and others,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I
left the apartment with my cable-TV broken box, in a
bag along with the Comcast remote control and the six foot coaxial
short white connection cable, and headed for the Comcast Office of
Fort Pierce, that has been near the Fort Pierce, Florida Walmart ever
since I came to live down here in this sunny paradise hell in the
middle of December in the year of 2009, 'escaping' the lovely THAT
FAMILY of the 1970 recurring nightmare dreams at child molester
Thomas J. Reale's Cornwall Avenue home, in Ventnor, New Jersey, just
south of rotten old Atlantic City. I drove all around and eventually
went into a small bank branch nearby the place that was all dark and
closed up, to ask what the fucking hell was up with COMCAST, and was
told, what cave have I been hiding in, they are no longer in that
mother fucking ass office!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE DUH, I
cannot afford a lot of expensive ass fucking
gasoline to be driving all around the goddess's creation,
and so no, I did not know that they were no longer in that fucking
cunt office, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The day was just beginning, and
was all ready MAJOR FUCKING BOTBAR, or
Bottom-Of-The-Barrel-Already-Rated,
“BOTBAR” for a short abbreviation; made up in the year of
fucking cunt 1986, or early in 1987; and peeps, I do not have that
clear of a recollection, nor is this one tiny bit mother fucking cunt
lapping relevant to the topic at hand right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now as you know from previous and
precious 'next-key' blogs, I have needed two front
tires on my vehicle for many months, and was on the verge of a real
major dangerous catastrophe and potential bad car accident. Both of
them had the strings showing real well, and were more than giving me
borrowed miles. So a little voice inside of my experience and wisdom,
told me that I would be driving today, and was already having shit
going real bad and wrong, so my next stop was to a place where
hopefully I could get two used tires put on my car, replacing these
two beyond bad ones now on the car. Mikey up on the island had told
me to go to this place when I could scrape up some cash. I had hoped
to use the tire that was given to me by that guy I told about, back
at the RV-Park in 2010, and have that exchanged for my size tire, and
purchase one and have two put on. When I arrived at the place, I
opened my trunk up, and low and mother fucking behold, I started to
take the tire out of the car to lay it on the side, and all though
not visible, it had no air and was flat as fucking ass shit. It was
obviously no cunt eating good, and I trashed it later today. The idea
of buying only one tire was quickly replaced with needing two, and
installed, even with my pal and and his pal and a real good deal, I
was out the 60 dollars I had put away for paying my auto
registration, which needs to be paid on or before my birthday, the
4th of fucking December. Now, when my December 3
disability money comes in, I will need to drive over and pay, leaving
me with very little spendable cash after the other monthly bills are
taken into fucking cunt lapping account. Still, I needed tires, and
having the one that I thought could be used, no good and flat, was
the second real good punch in the groin for the dam day, peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, my pal's pal takes no
cards or checks, so I had to drive to my TD Bank and get the 60-cash,
then drive back, and get the tires put on. Now I still needed to get
my problem with the COMCAST TV CABLE BOX
taken care of, YO. I drove home and tried to reach the peeps and the
system was down on the 800 number, and I tried for hours. Eventually,
I went to the local Police Department and told them about the weekend
and the box breaking and the Comcast beibng gone from the only
location I knew of, and not being able to reach them, and the officer
at the desk knew the Port Saint Lucie area real well, maybe he lives
there, who knows, but he gave me exact driving directions to go the
operating office in this town to the south, the same area where I did
all of my YOUTUBE projects, and postings, at the Bonjovi owned Avalon
Recording Studio, just off of Bayshore Drive. This office for Comcast
is merely a couple of miles further down on Bayshore Drive to the
south, and then you pull into a good sized mini-mall. Well, the
mini-mall was a synch to drive to, a long ass fucking drive, but easy
to find, and then came two more major fucking cunt eating
total super fuck ups,
YO!!!!!!!!
Finding the fucking actual
Comcast Office was unfathomable. It was lityerally buried and hidden
as though some mother fuckin gcunt eating TIME TRAVELER, just to make
this day extra horrible for me, went back in time, and established
this event of making this place unfathomably hidden and difficult to
spot unless one knows the mall and how this place is so well hidden,
crissake, it would have been a perfect spot for a battlefield zone,
next to a lot of dug war trenches. It was literally as though this
day was known about by the EXPLORATRONS, and they did all this, and
if anyone local is reading this and wants to see this for themselves,
then great, don't take my fucking word for shit, go to the
intersection of Port Saint Lucie Boulevard and Bayshore Drive, in
PSL, FL, USAESMWG, and this large mini-mall is unmistakable, but go
the fuck in there, and try to find the fucking elusive butterfly
Comcast Office of the Nielsen Travelers
Club of the T-3-E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
obviously found the place eventually, after driving all around the
mall, and cursing and swearing in my car, like a drunken mother
fucking, clit huffing sailor, on shore leave; and walked in, and
there was a line of about seven thousand mother fucking folks ahead
of me. The only thing in the entire day that worked out for me, even
though in the bigger picture it was a still all part of a super and
inconceivable bomb-out situation; was that I picked a number and
stood in a line about three minutes, knowing I would be there about
an hour, standing and waiting; and I had the fucking balls and
assertiveness to holler out to someone working behind the counter,
will I be able to exchange my broken box here, that I really need to
know before I waste a lot of time standing in this line, and she
asked me where I lived, and I told her, I
lived in Fort Pierce,
and she said, I am glad you spoke up, as you
need to go the Vero Beach Office,
which by the way, is just as far from where I live, only in the
mother fucking twat licking opposite direction. That town is to the
north, and Port Saint Lucie is to the south of my residence. Both
are a good half hours drive,
and by the way, driving up there, I experienced the worse fucking
traffic jam, in all of my days in Florida, nearly three full years
now, and no folks, I DON'T believe any of this hellish nightmare
fucking cunt bullshit is just some wild ass coincidence or string of
random bad fucking luck, sorry, I
am not that fucking naïve.
But it gets a lot better folks, or really, WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!
Just read on, YO, and remember, I COULD NOT FUCKING MAKE
THIS STUFF UP IN A MILLION YEARS,
NOR COULD YOU,
NOR COULD THE MIGHTY JAMES PATTERSON,
TALL CITY BUILDINGS AND CRYING BEHIND SHADES AND ALL!!! While driving
towards the place, and stuck in a traffic jam, before the next two
calamities of not being able to find the office hidden in that stupid
fucking mall, and then learning that they don't service residents of
Fort Pierce; something else happened. I was in that traffic jam, and
suddenly, and for no reason fucking cunt whatsoever, my watchband
broke, just like that horrible other time that I told and blogged
about while I was working that day in late 2010 or early 2011
somewhere at the HARVEST FOOD OUTREACH place, and suddenly, my
watchband just broke and my watch dropped off of my cunt eating
wrist!!!!!!!!!!!! Go ahead good peeps, tell me you have a day even
remotely this totally and absolutely
FUCKED UP,
and peeps, I have only begun this nightmare tale of misery, horror,
and woe, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It gets a lot worse, and a lot
fucking weirder still, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
I still had a busted COMCAST CABLE BOX,
along with a watch that I can no longer clit lapping wear, I was worn
out from lots of heavy driving in a traffic jam, and I had no idea
where exactly the Vero Beach Office for
Comcast Cable is, and neither did the lady who said that
this is where I needed to drive to, and I knew I could not bother the
police again, and I knew that the fucking telephone system was not
working at Comcast, not at the 800 number anyway. Still, I drove home
and tried again, and again, still, it was down, and I could not get
through, and then I received from the gods only know where, a real
good PAT PARSONS bright idea, of calling on the non-800 number that
appears on my god dam fucking cable bill. I got into the system, and
had to wait a good half hour. Never was I on that long of a hold at
Comcast. Now this lady told me, after I eventually reached someone
human, that they are running some kind of special offer, that was
generating a higher than normal calling volume. I was irate at this
point and admit to it. But she put up with me. Naturally, unlike
Dawn-Marie King, I never curse or totally lose it, as she would do. I
was on the porch of the FBI-owned Hammonton, New Jersey home at 841
Thirteenth Street one day in the autumn of 2009, and she was beyond
unbelievable. I heard it, as she was on a
speaker phone, and Ann King and Dawn, and I, were all
out on the porch while this took place. No, I was irate, but still
was manageable, and not totally insane, as was the case that day with
the illustrious and mysterious
TAWF folks, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND TD BANK TRUCKS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jesus
mother fucking god all mighty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If any of
you dare to tell me that you live a life like mine, I
WILL SPIT IN YOUR DAM EYE AT LIGHT SPEED SQUARED,
and that is a promise, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let us move this
along.
So
now there I was, finally talking to a nice lady that we call call
Nancy Belladonna so as not to use her real name. Before I go on, one
plus out of the day yesterday was that is was nice and fucking cool,
as if this had happened back when it was fucking 97 degrees and 80%
humidity making it feel around a buck ten,
I WOULD BE FUCKING DEAD NOW.
So
moving on with this nightmare day yesterday, I told Nancy about the
entire day, she did not need to hear about the tire installation, but
all of the rest of it that did in fact pertain to the COMCAST
SITUATION,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told her that I talked with another lady from
COMCAST, right after the box blew up at a quarter past eight on
Saturday night, and did not want to have the new one delivered, as I
live in a Public Housing Building, and if I am not home, and they
leave it as they do, at the door, all odds are it might just
grow a pair of freaking ass legs,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But Nancy assured me that without a
signature, I would not be liable, still, I plan to be at home for the
rest of the week, and they
should have it here on either Thursday or Friday.
You
think you have heard it all folks, SHEEEEEEEEEEEIT, don't be totally
fucking cunt absurd, YO. As I typed this last sentence, and even
though I am disconnected from the modem and the internet world
entirely, I had to retype the words, and was interfered with by
something that refuses to go off the fucking system, even when I go
into my ALL PROGRAMS, click into where I place the shit in the
RECYCLE BIN, and then, TRASH or empty the thing clear, and still this
fucking cunt 'PARETO-LOGIC' crap, pops up and fucks up my OFFICE 3.1
system while I am trying to fucking blog and tell my powerhouse
fucking nightmare story, YO!!!!! You see peeps, it is still going on
right now, and I have not even told the end of today's tale, this is
what I referred to in the late eighties and all throughout the mother
fucking nineties in my car when I kept my LIFE JOURNAL on cassette
tape, and used a recorder in the vehicle, calling it my
personal journal outside situation recording system.
Now peeps, back to the
talk with Nancy at the Comcast Cable. I
told her I would be home, also she will have the exact day of the
delivery sent to me by e-mail, and I can click onto e-mail messages
and open them, I just have trouble sending stuff, it rarely works, it
is not me being a fucking dummy and I know it, it is endless and
fucking cunt relentless HACKING by those who have SANCTIONED my
retiree life since high school, YO, and I know this is true, sir ALEX
JONES, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I told Nancy that I need to plug the box back in or I cannot make my
DVD-CD-VCR playing machine operate, and she said, fine. When the new
box arrives, I merely change them up, an easy task that a child can
do, and send the old stuff back in a package that comes along with my
delivery, at no cost at all for the re-mailing or the new box, and a
crdit for six days down time of television, and my bill is about 70
for the TV, not including the internet or phone, so a fifth of the
month or six days down time is $14.00. Then for the inconvenience and
hassle of this nightmare, she is doubling it and adding a dollar,
rounding off a credit on my bill to $25.00. But here is the real
super beyond fathomable kicker, folks, YO!!!!!! When I plugged it all
in this time, unlike all the times that I tried all weekend long off
and on; actually, it was plugged in, but I would unplug it and try
restarting, just to see if it would work, and nothing. But this time,
I hit the ON or power button on the Comcast REMOTE CONTROL, and the
green light on the box went on and has been on ever since, and this
was around just shy of five last evening, shortly after speaking to
Nancy on the telephone, from COMCAST. I was able to watch all the
news about
Hurricane Cousin Sandy Lookout-Rapes-1967,
and I had a pretty good fucking cunt evening, after the absolute
worst disastrous day of my life in 26 COCK SUCKING YEARS, RIGHT TO
THE DAY OF THE TRUMP CASTLE CASINO CRUSH in 1986, that ended my life
forever as a professional gambler in the dam New Jersey casinos.
There is another thing to report as well, folks. I woke up with a
shit attack, having to clean my pajamas in the bathtub, from another
famous TESLA-DEATH-RAY OTAMMIC WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ATTACK,
and all day off and on, I have been shitting my guts out and unable
to fucking eat.
I will say a lot more later on. 4 now, I end this BWOG!
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