SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCXVIII
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
110312.987
LATE
SUPER BOTBAR SATURDAY NIGHT
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BSNF:
“REAL BAD DAY, NOT REAL GOOD GIRL”
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012
'SWORN
VOLUNTARY OATH OF TOTAL TRUTHS OF BLOG'
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
This
was the mother fucking cock sucking worst day I have had in quite a
long while now, other than for Monday with the cable box problem.
This is two straight SATURDAY FUCKING BOTBARS as well, as last
Saturday as some may recall, was when the cable box from COMCAST just
poofed of for no good reason, and appeared to be totally broken until
late on Monday afternoon, when suddenly it just began to work again,
and another NICKHACKATTACK
I'm quite positive, Sheriff Monks,
sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well folks, let me
get right into the clit chewing fart heart of the matter, and really
tell some bullshit and before this blog is over, I will have my
revenge by telling some shit that as the mighty infomercial king,
Kevin Trudeau would put this so well, “THEY DON'T WANT ME TO TELL,
OR YOU TO KNOW ABOUT”, so as my late Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason
would say, “TOUGH BEANS”,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First,
the past two days, being Friday and Saturday, which now has less than
seven minutes in it, as the clocks do not revert back to standard
time until two in the morning when it becomes one in the morning;
have been horrific monster ass fucking days with UTILITY ATTACKS, and
THE NABE ATTACKS, again, yes here we go, straight into the 5th
dimension, in many more ways than one, but is that not the nature of
that beast, folks, TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Muster? Before I get into the
specifics that I'll guarantee will indeed piss of the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE, a lot; let us do the three GAWNUM EQUATIONS, asked
a number of hours earlier in the middle afternoon while the nabes
were hollering in the hallway, and continually slamming in and out
over and over, still not quite as bad as before, and the music is not
as loud as it was, so Debbie Morotto did do something. Eventually, I
will have these low life pricks evicted. For now, let us move this
along with the 3 Q&A Gawnum's.
Before
I do get to these three Q&A items, let me tell you that I played
both UTILITY ENEMY FACTIONS, as well as ENEMY NABE FATIONS of the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE, and won as follows, by losing, and reversing, quite
naturally. Actually, they won, and I would play their picks, my picks
just happen to be opposite of theirs, and would be reversed, if you
want to get technical about shit. First I played my NABES, and their
scores were as follows in two games, minus one and plus three, or
actually a plus two, so following their picks on the black hundred
dollar gaming chip level would have made me 200 bucks richer. Then I
played the UTILITY scum, which I will explain in more detail shortly
as to what happened to me as a result of this dirt bag enemy faction;
but for now, I played just one game, and they beat me as well and
their score was plus one, so by following my enemy factions in three
total games and fifteen total spins, my profit on the black chip
level would have been +$300.00 this after fucking noon, HA-HA-HA-HA!
Now we can move along to my discussions with the GAGA-CAT, my friends
and my fiends.
My
first question was as frikkin follows, L-4, YO:
Why
have I been under the worst computer hack-attack over the past two
days and nights now, like never ever before?
THE
RESPONSE FROM GAGA WAS PCN-990
and
here are the matching items in my book-list for this number, YO!
HARBORFIELDS
DETENTION CENTER---POLITICALLY CORRECT---EIGHTY SIX---THREE OPEN REEL
TAPES---GOD'S GAMES---I WILL ALWAYS LOVE
YOU---GREENLAWN---INTRICATE---I'M DARKER THAN YOU ARE---RS FIFTEEN
HUNDRED US---
These
are the half of the items that are more significant to me and my
current situation and problems in my life, than the other half in my
list book. Now let us move to Q-2.
This
is as follows, Lads, Lassies, Labbers, and Labradors:
Why
have my noisy uncouth nabes been bad again for two solid days after a
short small back off period?
THE
RESPONSE FROM GAGA WAS PCN-541,
and here are the matching items in my book-list for this number, YO!
ROBERT
CHEATLEY---WATER---WILLIAM CLINTON---GRACE MESSENGER---YOUR FRIENDS
ARE IN THE SHOP---
There
are not a lot of matching items to this number that I have yet to
figure out with matching stuff in my life, and this is the entire
list, as printed above. Now for the final Q-3. This is as follows,
M/L/I/L-4, and all and any 'others' out here reading
'THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN' and 'MORIANITY'.
Before
I print the third question that I asked the great cat of wisdom, from
what mortals might call, the 'dream
worlds', let me first
tell what happened, while the noisy nabes were annoying me all day
with in and out banging doors and hallway bullshit.
I was watching the mother fucking WEATHER
CHANNEL
on my COMCAST CABLE
TELEVISION,
and just at the
precise time that they had one of their reporters up in New Jersey,
talking to the cousin of the owner of Avalon Recording Studio where I
did all of the YOUTUBE work between the 30th
of December of 2010, and last July in 2012, and just as it began to
show the scene, my entire screen went blank. Something is fucking
wrong with the plugs that are on my cheap shitty television set that
you need to insert the three way RCA cables, left and right audio and
yellow video, and once in a while for no apparent reason, the system
either cuts off in audio or in video, usually the video. You need to
jiggle the fucking wires and press them in even though they are in
all the way, and the shit then fucking restores itself. Still, this
never happened until one magic fucking cunt day here at this address,
and I have had this TV set in all three places that I have lived,
here, the hood on 26th
Street, and the RV-PARK, where the maintenance man, DANNY, gave me
this piece of shit TV, so I could play video, and he put me onto the
local pawn shop where he said there was a cheap DVD-VCR machine that
had no cable tuner, but with that machine and the broken coaxial plug
television set, I could still run a three way RCA wire to enjoy
rental videos from the local library, which I did. Danny had found
the TV set in an RV after the peeps who had it, left one day without
paying their rent, and the TV would be junked since it had a broken
coaxial cable input. Comcast was able to use the various other inputs
and outputs to make the cable-TV work when I first had them hook me
up to it back in the early autumn of 2010, up in the 26th
Street hood, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ain't life grand, and
to think I am a mother fucking cunt lapping HUNTINGTON. So go roll
over in your fucking grave, Uncle Sam, and 7th
grand-pappy. So anyway, this happened at just the time they were
talking to BonJovi, as I told you and for those unaware of it, he has
Jersey roots, and so do all the Bonjovi's down here running the
Avalon Studio, even my engineer Ryan, not related to the family, has
Jersey roots, guess we all are a bunch of old fucking hicks, huh
Pennsylvania State Police, who used to harass my grandfather when he
would come back from the summer camp that he owned in Long Beach
Island at Brant Beach, New Jersey, back before the great World War
Two days of the thirties. So back to what happened, the WOMO fucked
with my TV picture at the exact time that I wanted to see BonJovi
talking about the storm up in Jersey. This
really mother fucking pissed me off.
Now I was good and
fucking angry, and so I got my trusty deck of playing fucking cards,
and asked the GAGA-CAT, the three questions, and here is question
three now, as now after my explaining the bullshit I went through, it
will make sense to the reader, unlike if I had not explained the
attack.
Why
did the WOMO enemy attack my television while I was watching 'TWC'
and exactly when Bonjovi came on, the picture went blank?
THE
RESPONSE FROM GAGA-CAT WAS PCN-781,
and
here are the matching items in my book-list for 781, YO!
BABYLON---BALLOON---BUZZARD---GOD'S
DOG---CREATOR---PROPHET OF NOTHING---JULY TWELVE NINETEEN
SEVENTY---EXTREMELY VIOLENT---
The
other roulette game system that I have yet to discuss, also made
me a three-unit average profit,
over the past five days, the good three and the real bad two that
followed. It is now eight minutes shy of one Ante' Meridian on a
Sunday fucking morning, November the 4th,
one month away from my cunt eating fifty-eighth birthday. How I look
forward, as all real Morians know so well, to my birthday each year,
and they also know sarcasm when they fucking twat licking hear it as
well, DUHHHHHHHyundai-2006-with or without hanging Hammonton's,
hanging Huntington's, waves, particles, tapewave fractures,
nightmares, washcloths, Jennifer Washburn's, Watson Clues, or high
school Disney Musical garbage shows, right ball-game
Nick??????????????????
Now
we will move onto today's major RAT-TAT-JESSE-FOOTBALL-TRS,
AKA, TODAY'S
REVENGE SECRET,
KEVIN T. I have over 18 and a half years before I leave this life and
wake up out of this nightmare dream that I am in. There is a
parabolic curve of knowledge and wisdom and enlightenment that is
universal and cosmic, “you cannot argue with it”, just as
Detective
Ed Green would say so well,
on the greatest television-law show ever, even topping Perry Mason,
“LAW
& ORDER”.
I was speaking of a Nick who I also used to enjoy the PHILLIES WITH,
not the TIME TRIPPER NICK and his secret routes back into Philly down
on Academy
and Grant, just off of I-95.
How does this tie in with parabolic curves and if I have the
necessary time to figure out what I need to, before this all cycles
around again and I am back on that fucking train n February of 1969,
for another wild ride and trip, huh Misses Marola and your well timed
school play of 1969 Memorial Day?
Now it was totally confirmed that Sir Sat was sent to me by the E
Street Washingtonians in early July of twenty-ten, but that is only
the beginning of lots of real major fucking bullshit. I will tell
only this much right now, as it pertains to the friend of a friend,
who has put the GAWNUM shit onto a software computer program, and I
have a reason that this cannot be further talked about right now, so
trust me, folks, please. He asked me if I had ever Googled up MC's
website with this computer, or downloaded any of her programs such as
the 2008
MIMI or double 'MY' program.
I thought I would crap myself, and told him, an emphatic NO, but that
the computer before this one that I left behind at the FBI Agent's
house at 841
Thirteenth Street, in Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG,
was the one where indeed, I had downloaded the MIMI disc that came
with her 2008 music project, E=MC SQ. He asked me if I ever used the
Google to search anything with her name on it directly, and again
asked me if I had brought down with me, the MIMI disc. I told him
again, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He was examining something with a special
disc that he loaded into the computer, that I had placed in a
shopping bag and taken over to the beach house where he then met me
there, with his
friend Mikey Patterson. He connected up some wild stuff and all my
shit from when Darius Evans was over here and we made the video and
uploaded it to YOUTUBE under a different account,
the one that I will put on, after the blog ends; and is posted, so as
to show you all what is going on. Remember that Darius and his buddy,
are in fact, the rappers known as DEEZY SLIM. You can Google it, or
you can go to the YOUTUBE and type the name in the search bar there.
Now he was over, and we needed some photos of New York City to keep
the great Mariah happy, and do the Apology Song remake, with the
included video, of her absolute favorite building since the age of
five, the great Empire State Building. Now here comes the powerful
part that Sheriff monks does not want any part of. This powerful
computer white hat hacker told me that the only way that the photos
of her two little children would keep popping up when Darius typed in
“Photos of” and that is exactly what he typed in, no more than
that, but then the Google went straight to a continued------MC's
twins. He showed me that there is a way to link back why this
happened but it takes time and work. Once again he forced me to tell
him and this was totally true, that never with this machine, did I
ever Google her name or visit her websites, or chat with her in any
way, or load in any programs she sold. After two long hours, he
proved that NICK indeed hacked into the system back in 2011, or had
one of his teen cronies do it, and that this
is why the 36th
Avenue address was showing when I tried to Google up some directions
to North Florida
just past Orlando, to see some peeps that we need not talk about
right now and that has nothing to do with any of this. What I never
told or blogged, even though I did tell the story of Sat from the
AARP and the HARVEST, right around two years ago now; is as follows:
He drove a school bus and worked with a lady by the name of WHITE, in
Washington, DC, and I told this, but I did not tell you that he had
lived for a while in Manhattan, and that he planned to go back to
Trinidad but first needed to go back to the city to do something, he
would not be more specific, and he broke out into a fit of laughter,
as he rarely did, and I sort of remember just staring at him, and
then he said, “life is one big wide turn, huh”? Only Morians who
have studied the 2009 blogs well, have a clue why this was the most
powerful statement to me, in the world, and further proves that lots
and lots and lots of travelers are all over the place. Reality is a
trillion times more mother fucking exciting and frightening, than all
of this UFO alien outer space flying airship bullshit. David Leigh
Smith of Haddonfield in New Jersey said it all once, when he said to
me, “Mark, it's all happening right here, fuck space”. Oh yes
folks, now there were some real words
of wisdom
for John Lennon to go and 'let it be', BRO. Jesus fucking Christ All
Mighty, YO!!!!
If
this gets worse, this powerful secret is nothing, I am full of them
my pal, Fonty, surfer dude, like WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
OF THIS WHITTLE BWOGGING TWANSMISSION, SIR ELMER WABBIT FWUDD, WHAA.
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