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's 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 I 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 then 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, as 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 that I 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 all my 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 I 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 being 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, and 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 literally buried and hidden,
as though some mother fucking cunt
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, and that I
really need to know, before I waste a lot of time standing in this
line. She then 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
worst 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, can be 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 just broke, and 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555
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. Now, I was irate, but still
was manageable, and not totally insane, as was the case that day with
the illustrious and mysterious
TAWF folks, so again, YO,
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.
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So
now there I was, finally talking to a nice lady that we'll call Nancy
Belladonna, so as not to use her real name. Before I go on, one plus
out of the day yesterday was that it was nice and fucking cool. 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 I 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, but 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 into 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, and 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, as 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 entire 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
credit 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.
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I
will say a lot more later on.
For right now, I will end this BWOG, Elmer
Fwuddddddddddddddddddddddddddd!
YES
PEEPS, I NOW END TRANSMISSION, no wabbits, YO!
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