SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0561
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2292
KING
PROPHETNOTHINGEIGHTYEIGHTSQUAT
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATFILE: 091712.698
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR (BSNF):
“MWMSVL=WOMO+TTOQK
CUBED”
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR
VOLUNTARILY
SWORN LEGAL OATH OF TOTAL TRUTHS
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Lads,
Lassies, Labbers, and Lab-dogs, (L-4), things have never ever been
even close to being not only this mother fucking terribly wrong and
bad, but also totally outlandish, beyond bizarre and weird, and
inconceivably unfathomable for me; and I have lived for all mother
fucking cunt ass eternity. So have all of you. I cannot help it if I
am totally aware and remember this as a fact, and no one else alive
and awake and conscious on the Planet Earth, does. That for right
now, just cannot concern me. Moving this along and sticking closer to
points without moving each one too far out on tangents so as not to
be twenty pages because a lot of various things are going to be
touched on here on this blog. Let me therefore start right now,
getting to it, without further ado.
My
computer clock is changing a lot again, so I guess my old pal,
Sheriff Monks, of San Mateo County, CA; decided to wuss out on me. Oh
well, I cannot blame him. Who wants to fight the embodiment of the
two most powerful indwelling spiritual beings in this hundred billion
plus light year circumference expansion of hot hell, just not in
degrees that mercury measures from the expanding atomic measurements,
translation I know the universe is cold, actually averaging out at
2.7 kelvin degrees; but it still is hot hell to fucking me, folks,
because this is my reality. What is reality? What is your reality?
What is my reality? Is it really true that “I think, therefore I
am”? Well, not according to the preachings and teachings of
MORIANITY, it isn't, peeps. There is one whole fucking hell of a lot
more going on here than this simple phrase eludes to,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The blogging SAFE JOURNAL of DETENTION CENTER ROAD.
Oh well, I guess it beats both TENNESSEE AVENUE in Atlantic City,
NJUSAESMWG, and ACADEMY ROAD, in lovely Northeast Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, ehhhhehhhhehhhh,
ehhhhehhhhehhhhehhhhehhhh,
ehhhhehhhhehhhhehhhh? Tom and Benny, go have some fun on your Salem
County farm, and think of me, NOT THERE, PRAISE GODDESS. Even from
your retirement, you choose to sit there, and not offer me a hand;
when you know this is all going on, kind sir Ron. what a mother
fucking turd you are, old pal. You see, Mister Wirtz, Sir; there is
no way, mathematically, NO WAY, that all of this that is happening
around me just from this very day, and back to the day we first met
in that office; with your little sidekick prick, Mizz Donna Spinosi;
not one chance in a hundred and thirty four and a half nonillion,
that this could be happening to me, just all random happenstance; and
not somebody putting the total mother fucking kibosh on every single
stinking thing that I do, 24-7-365.2422. So you keep laughing there,
smiley fucking face Tabernacle, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is why my blog
subtitle number four is indeed, called; “MARK WAYNE MOHR'S SUB
VAMPIRIC LIFE, EQUALS WORLD-OWNER-MILITUFORCE-OTAMMITES, PLUS THE
TOOLS OF QUINTESSENTIAL KIBOSH, CUBED”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET
IT?????Well,
maybe some of you, THINK, you are getting it, while others remain
about as fucking clueless as a bat, that is endlessly trying to read
the twenty ten line, on the dam eye chart. Let me clear things up for
the world, right here and right now, with or without any Coraceedin
for the heart, oh lovely Lieutenant Van Buren.
Somebody
is stopping EVERY SINGLE THING I AM TRYING TO DO. I
OWE JIM GARRIGAN A HUGE THANK YOU,
ALONG WITH A MISTER HIGH SCHOOL GUIDANCE COUNCELOR NAMED JAQAMINI
FROM HTHS OF WESTMONT, NEW JERSEY. WITHOUT YOU TWO, I WOULD BE LIVING
UNDER A BUMS BRIDGE, AND THINGS WOULD BE FAR WORSE. YOU DUDES ALL
READY KNEW THIS, AND COME FROM WORLD LABS. I KNOW THAT, AND WISH TO
THANK THE FEW OUT HERE WATCHING ME FROM THE FUTURE AND LIVING HERE,
WHO INDEED ARE ON MY SIDE OF THINGS, AS WITHOUT YOU FEW; I WOULD BE
ONE VERY MOTHER FUCKING DEAD
MAN
RIGHT
ABOUT
NOW!!!!!
This is why I fucking know that all of this is real, as there are
really two forces around me, and always have been; the ones wiping me
out and destroying me from A-Z, and the ones trying to fight them and
help me as much as possible. Still, all my life, it has been two
major things, my own family, and the monster family from hell that
came into my dreams in the end of the sixties without identifying
anything except the name of SARAH
KRASSLE,
then in early July of 1970, letting me know that I can refer to them
as, “THAT
FAMILY”.
Then years later in the mortal time line of waking world so-called
life, Sarah ends up referring to me in even still other 'dreams' as,
“THAT-BOY”.
Of course, members of her human world girl-gang back in those days of
old, in Atlantic City, also knew me as the same name, Sarah referred
to me as, and one upon seeing me, told a friend of hers on a bus one
night, around half past ten, on the 12th
of July in 1970, as “THAT BOY”, her exact words being, “THERE'S
THAT BOY”,
and she pointed right at me, and was staring at me, as if I was some
fucking ass rock star or something, instead of just another little
punky fifteen year old kid.
Here
is what is happening in a super compressed nutshell. No one will talk
to me, it is as if I have the mother fucking Bubonic Plague. It is as
though someone called everyone who I deal with, or could possibly
ever decide to deal with, about my computer or my internet postings.
My next door nabe when I am on this machine, instead of running a
radio, now it is as if the apartment is a huge fucking swimming pool
with large water sounds. This has been ongoing for over a month or
two, and is off the wall fucking outlandish and crazy, or as Queen
Kateydairies may say it even better, Mack camp counselor Kaiter, this
is redeeeeeeequlous. No one will help me or talk to me. It is as if
everyone has been bought off, or threatened. I believe that they
have; and I seriously doubt that any Teck Bay Mystery School classes
in advanced robotics, artificial intelligence, or virtual reality,
has much to do with this, Holly Gaukauk. But things get so much
better, as this is not even starting to crack open the huge iceberg
that is bigger than the planet of Jupiter. The things we can do in
twenty-twenty-nine is one hell of a cool song that as some of you
know, I heard playing in the future, in some universe, maybe this
one, but I cannot be sure.
I
am going to just touch on a few things that only my enemies can
really know and worry about future blogs on these subjects, and they
will be fucking coming, and of that, KIMBA
WHITE,
you can be sure, Lion King, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First, my skytorcycle
horse has been spotted on numerous occasions, and I am sorry if
anyone was upset. Second, in Mantua, New Jersey, and then two years
later, in Voorhees, New Jersey, early in 1980 and early in 1982,
certain things happened to me that the great book of 1994 gets into
with the antimatter Bob Cheatley Patterson, but we need not touch
boxium or gravigain hypertronic technology right now. Still, there
are reasons that large hollow aluminum shapes filled with compressed
helium and heated H2O and other mixed gases, are not mass produced to
create powerful pressurized weightless materials. There also are
reasons why entire layer disc rotation technologies are not used
openly or covertly, in tandem with a military that covets the ability
to create invisibility. If you want to watch something disappear,
turn a bicycle upside down on its seat and spin the pedals and watch
the spokes vanish. There is a reason why real time travel is not
talked about, and all of these things combined, have to do with the
INTERNET. We have a society that has unconsciously connected itself
together using so-called thinking machines all tied together on an
electronic highway. This is to keep things a little more honest. Now
if something breaks that is really big, the world knows it before
Jessica Simpson can create her next new funny face. This truly makes
what Dawn-Marie King said to me so often, so true and full. This all
had to happen before the next human phase can even begin, after Julia
White
ushers
in her second calender, on the 27th
of this December.
If
you notice in 2008, I did not blog back in 2004, so we can only go
back to here, but if you notice; things really started picking up
real real fucking bad for me, half a year or so before the
presidential elections. The Democrats are not the ones doing this,
but guess who is? It's those mother fucking ass Republicans who use
APE
against me to get things to go their way in a preponderance amount of
the time, or illegally covertly shifting the natural order and
balance of what really should be happening around us all, naturally.
APE stands for APPLIED
PARALLEL EVENT,
or really, parallel event that is intentionally created, or ICPE,
used as a powerful awesome fucking cunt weapon against me, since
August the fucking 15th
in 1986, to make the PHILLIES LOSE, the FLYERS WIN, and by these two
things happening in a preponderance, THE DOW JONES RALLY UP AND UP
AND UP FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER, for no good reason that is based on
the facts around the world, other than, this works simply by
persecuting the fucking shit out of one pathetic person, me, MARK
WAYNE FUCKING MOHR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is why this year, starting with
the beach robbery on Watergate Day, the 17th
day of June, and never fucking looking back, things again 4 years
later, as with 2008, and now again in 2012, are what they are,
DAWN-MARIE, so read the fucking 2008 blogs, and see how these two
rotten pricks were picking on me even back then, and got their
distant rotten cousins to kick in as well. I'll never prove it, but
it is true all the same. This
is why Gawky told me
in a powerful dream, shortly after the Harvest
Banquet dream in 2010,
that I should do what 'MY' says, and put up the song. Then later, he
told me, to put up other songs. Later still, he told me that I can
prove a lot of things if I just go with him to this park, and this
was the time that he leaped off of a hotel balcony; and he told me he
would not hurt me, and that he respects
anything that can defy gravity.
Maybe Joan Poole Lapplane, finked on me, who knows? Others probably
saw things they shouldn't have; hay Jenny Washburn, you know. Peeps
at the bottom of restaurant ladders in 1975, Holy Spirit Lifeguards
from Haddonwood Swim Clubs, and others. Still, he told me that I
needed to carefully examine what I thought I wrote in 1983,
especially about omniscience. I had no clue what he meant after first
coming out of that experience, and I blogged the powerful dream from
around a year or so ago. But it did hit me shortly afterward, and I
realized just why Scylla got so sensitive about her song from 14
years later, and told me “PUT
THAT ON TOP”,
after she gave me that list of three 'NO-NO' things, for me to
remember. These are facts, folks, just like the ES Building, it is
not fiction. It can all be totally fact checked from A-Z. In any
event, there are thoughts we just cannot say, and there are broken
rudders that indeed do steer boats in very fucked up ways, sometimes
metaphorically, YO. Yes, those Ron Wirtz fucking big business wealthy
trashy ass Republicans; I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw
a mule, after breaking my back and my neck. But of course, we know
that Washington, District Of Columbia, is a big game no matter what.
I simply try and take up with the smaller devil. Go back now, even
though you cannot do it on Mountainpen's Blogs, to Jimmy Carter when
he tried getting reelected. That fixed political shit with the 444
days and the American hostages held captive at the Iranian soil
American Embassy. It all just works out, when enough money greases
the wheels, right? There is no such thing as a foreign policy, and it
is like Kevin Trudeau said on his famous infomercials
peeps. It is ALWAYS ALL ABOUT THE FUCKING MONEY, and that is all it
ever is always about, peeps, YO. Then the Clinton Bush Florida vote
count deal, need I FUCKING KEEP TYPING ON AND ON, about the KIBOSH
SYNDROME? If they won't fucking let me put up the song, “YOU'LL
BE CROSSING
OVER”,
then guess what good folks, it WON'T EVER GET POSTED UP, because it
is just that fucking simple, John Red Henningsen Mentalist Pipe
Experts, YO!!!!!! Hay, why not the KIBOSH
SYNDROME,
after-all, that thing with the initials again, you know, JB, SC, VC,
MS, MC, SK, or in reverse, but WOW, you really CANNOT ESCAPE it, just
as SCYLLA SHELLFISH TOLD ME, back in oh-freaking-butt-wipe-eight, my
fiends and my friends, or was it in 1997??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No,
Sheriff, I am not mad or even disappointed in you. I know how
powerful my kid is, and her friends; don't give it another thought.
Sf Mascara of my county all ready knows he will be coming soon to
pick me up in a fucking body bag. He is not stupid, any more than you
are, sir. Still, Gawky told me there are two sides to every story;
some time ago, at a lovely fucking swimming
pool, in Deptford, New Jersey;
along Route 47, across the fucking street from the Konrad
Beer Distributor Company,
YO. I asked him what he was talking about, and this is what he told
me. “Someday Mark, you will be doing some little chore, and while
thinking of this talk we're having right now, it will all come clear
to you, why I tell you this. Remember that I had my side of things
too”. I just looked at him with the famous 50 yard stare. I know I
did, as he finally chuckled, and made light of it; but it was still
there, in his eyes, and in his face, and NOW, I DO KNOW. THIS MAY NOT
BE THE RIGHT TIME, BUT I AM TOTALLY POSSESSED,WOW,
WOW!!!
Let
me rap things up by telling a few other things shared at this pool.
Well for today, one more, as there are others, for other times; and I
think it's too dangerous to tell it all right now. I am hearing that
'Andromeda Strain' crap in my mind right now, as if someone is
mentally transmitting this to me as an intimidation; but I do know
that THEY can shut things down anytime they want to, and if I were to
print stuff that would shut down the world tonight; then they would
shut me down first. This should be fucking cunt obvious to a total
fucking ass retard. No need to even involve Alex Jones. Hell, let's
at least all advance to 2nd
grade, without him having to steer, even with a good fucking ass 1983
boat choke rudder, DOC. Yes, I
told him about the PRIVECODE machine,
and that is when he said that he had worked on the research for some
of the parts to it, and that I need to take it to a landfill as fast
as I can, only I never did. This is why my mother and I remained so
physically ill, and also why we both will die horrible eventual
deaths, and I know that. I am not stupid, mother fucking world. This
is all why I despise this American created celebrity-god system. I
know that I am cooked, literally. There is no way out for me. I know
it, you mother fucking jerk off twisted bastards. Maybe some still
have not figured out what is really being covered up by the world
powers regarding outer space. It sure ain't fucking saucers and
aliens. It is not even the truth of exploratrons, all though that at
least is a little closer to the truth. If you don't think you get it,
maybe it is not destined for you to. Who knows? I will tell you this
one thing now, and was never planning to. It is why I was shot dead
at the local WAWA Convenience store a few months later, in the summer
of 1995, in Williamstown, New Jersey. Advanced Robotics or numerous
intelligent machines, some are people-machines (androids),
indistinguishable from any human, even superior ones (GODS and
GODDESSES) with incredible abilities, do indeed become a part of the
future. THESE
MACHINES
connect into the 6th
dimension of 'MIND',
having access to all who ever have lived here, either as a computer
mind or a biological mind; and they can bring that exact thing back
any time they want to, in less than 100 years from the time that I
post this blog. On top of that, death is a total illusion anyway, as
we never go to our own funeral and perceive ourselves as dead. We
always exist humanly in a state of remembering earliest parts of
childhood, and then events in our lives as it progresses towards
older ages, and then eventually; we dream that we die, and are part
of another life, but only the 6th
dimension retains the memory of the life before, to clear the system,
in most cases. Passing certain controlled currents and voltages for
sustained amounts of time, through our body; can bring
back the memory of our entire beingness in hyperspace, created by the
6th
dimension above it, as hyperspace is the 5th,
containing virtually unlimited countless four dimensional space-time
parallel universes. Only
a few months passed since I sent my book, “The Permission Barrier”
to Washington, DOC, for official Copyright Registration on 31 October
in 1994, and Gawky popped up at Haddonwood.
He never mentioned the book by name, but he had read it somehow, as
he mentioned to me how if I were to ever fly around over a public
event, such as was discussed in my book, something more horrible
would happen to me than anything in the book, only he used a
different word than 'book', and never admitted to reading it. He
seemed to want more than anything, to make the point that a day would
come, when I would realize that there was 'HIS SIDE' to some story.
This could later fill encyclopedia volumes up, and needs not even
start right now. Still, Andy and Joe and WAWA all happened shortly
after Gawky appeared, and then before the Haddonwood Club
mysteriously shut down one day in August of 1996, just days after my
horrendous day of terror when my mother and I were literally
terrorized and got no justice whatsoever from the authorities who we
pay our taxes to; and then beyond Joe and Andy, then came the giant
girl visitation, witnessed by SAM, the son of a Williamstown Police
Officer, and the Highview Apartments Maintenance Man. The great Paula
King decided it was time for daughter number two to enter into the
great equation, and she came in and raped me, AGAIN; as if the first
Saturday of July in 1969, was not enough. I feel compelled
irresistibly again folks, I have to do it, I'm sorry, but here goes,
W---O---W.
Well
people, there is always tomorrow, and enough has been said today,
don't you agree? Or shall we all enjoy having a great GENERAL
BREAKDOWN, and end up at the Musicians Sike Ward? Sorry you missed
the best of things you love so much, Steve Hawking. It just wasn't
meant to be, old pal!!!!!!!
ENDING
TRANSMISSION:
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