SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCX
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
STARTING
BLOG:
THINGS
JUST MOTHER FUCKING EXPLODED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All appeared to be
quieter and better, all though I knew that this mother
fucking shit was going to strike the cunt eating fan
anytime; because I know how to work what is someday referred to as;
Magnetic Percentage Prediction Calculations or MPPC's. You simply
take the SUPER BAD DAYS or (BOTBARS) and
multiply them by 100, and then divide by the amount of days in the
month, or a rounded off 30 will do, if doing just months, and not
other periods of time amounts. I knew that a horrific weekend was
around the mother fucking corner for me. It happened at fucking cunt
fifteen or so minutes past eight EDST, Post Meridian (PM). I was
watching my friend Charles Stanley, the
Televangelist, and BOOM, the entire system died.
Eventually after calling COMCAST CABLE,
and going through a lot of trouble-shooting steps; I came to learn
that my television cable box was blown up somehow, and I know it was
done through a TESLA-STRIKE from the WOMO,
or one of their major HACK ATTACKS that caused the entire system to
blow up. It is dead as a Marley Doornail, that is belonging to both
Charles Dickens, and Ebeneezer Scrooge.
Unlike
the old days, you have to be mailed a new box or go to the office to
pick up a new box, and it is ten dollars, but the nice lady at the
Comcast who I spoke to when all hell broke loose at quarter past
eight or so, told me that she would credit my account by twenty-five
dollars for my inconvenience, as I will have no television, or
anything; as the way my stuff is hooked up, when the box is blown, I
have nothing, I cannot even watch my VCR or DVD stuff, until their
office opens on Monday. By the way folks, Hurricane fucking Sandy had
nothing to do with the problem, so don't go thinking any of that, as
folks like PP would do, or my late mother. That was all totally ruled
out by Comcast Experts, and careful trouble
shooting.
SOMEBODY
IN THE POWERUL WOMO-MILITUFORCE,
DID NOT WANT ME TO BE ABLE TO WATCH THE BRAND NEW MOTHER FUCKING
EPISODE OF 'LAW AND ORDER', SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SHOW, (SVU) ON TV
TONIGHT, AS THIS CAME ON, OR WILL COME ON, AT 10; ABOUT TEN MINUTES
FROM NOW AS I TYPE THESE VERY WORDS NOW.
This
world needs to fucking grow up a little bit, and start taking
seriously; all the stuff on H-2 or the Science Channel. There really
is some force, the ancients called it SATAN,
or DEMONS and ANGELS, or monsters, giants, and all sorts of fucking
shit. This was the only way that they could describe the very same
stuff that I am now experiencing thousands of years fucking cunt
later, up here by these same cock suckers that
I call the WOMO-MILITUFORCE, and folks, please, YO, do
not 'confuse' this, with our government or our military, all though
they are in fact, in various ways, many without even being
consciously aware of it; interconnected with
them, and these otherworldly forces.
Now
a message for Patty Jane, and other mental giants,
who have all the answers; only their
answers fall completely short of
rationally explaining all of the stuff that happens on a continual
basis, to those like myself, from some invisible to present day by
the majority anyway, FORCE/ENTITY/ or whatever you may choose to name
it. I will go with the same thing I have gone with all along, and
have been saying all along, 'TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS'
either in groupings
called SUPERMIND, or in individual
and non-collective units. Eddie
Himacane Lynch said it all, in 2006-2008, upon several occasions;
“Mark, there are things happening
around you that I simply cannot explain”.
Without knowing Eddie, this simple quote may seem insignificant and
small, but it is far from that, as for him to speak those words,
would be equivalent to Albert Einstein saying, “Gee, what is E=MC
SQUARED”? Eddie disagreed on many things that I said were
harassment's and persecution's against me, including all of the
aerial stuff, just like the All Mighty evil PP, who could rip your
heart out with his music and lyrics, yet cut below the facade; and
there was nothing but 300 pounds of solid thick black soulless ice!
This was blogged, but I will say it all over again, since it was told
around 4-6 years ago in that range, and I do not expect the majority
of even loyal following MORIANS to remember, but before I get into
it, whenever I have a major
DREAMING INTERACTION, as you may
remember me tell this repeatedly folks; things get very bad, very
fucking cunt quickly, for me; just as with tonight, when I had come
out of a powerful afternoon nap, awakened by a nasty ass fire alarm,
as these have gone back on quite a roll again folks; and it was
around half past five this early evening, and in the interaction, let
me tell you what was 'hoppening,
sir Derrijo of DEES EXXON',
and all other L-4-M-L-I! I was back, AGAIN, at
that same ADVANCED ROBOTICS
CLASS, only this time, my kid was
not there, or singing anything. Some positive out of the day, huh?
Now, in her place, were my horrible nabes that I am forced to endure
here at this PH Building. Also all around me were about 60 or so
students, and the room was bright orange, the wall colors, even the
lighting system; appeared to emit a glowing bright orange color, that
eventually as things went on; seemed to lessen in its effect, and
become somewhat more 'normal-average' as to the usual room colors of
the waking world. We were having our ears tested, to see if we all
heard sounds in the exact same way, in all of our varying seating
arrangements. I had come up with a really 'Pat Parsons bright idea',
about using a machine that I had
built and brought in with me, to
better accomplish this test, but the instructor/professor told me, he
did not totally trust my motives; and to sit down, and be quiet;
after I nicely offered to help. After doing so, I observed that in my
left hand, was this very same machine that I had built late in the
seventies, that was better than any sound sampling-vocoding system
of even the very present day, up here in late twenty-twelve.
Suddenly, the instructor/professor, whatever he truly was, said that
he does not totally trust me, that I could have had this little
machine way back so far in 1978. I told him that the reason he did
not, was because the FORCES OF THE
SATURN-POTE were effecting and
influencing his judgment, by way of
ETTOS control. He then grabbed the
machine out of my hand, and he began playing with it; and suddenly,
he demanded that all of the students in this large room, hand over
all of their newspapers; and instantly, I looked around; and
everyone had large opened up to
full size, newspapers, that I
never remembered seeing before in that class. One student refused,
and all the others reluctantly handed their papers up to the front
row, row by row; and then left to right where the
instructor/professor was standing, after walking from the other side
of this room, to this right end of it, while facing my front. It was
ULTIMATE FIGHTER DAVID,
from the Fort
Pierce, Florida Harvest, back in this parallel universe,
and he was sitting next to Jessica
Grant, both of whom were my bosses
in 2010 and 2011, at the Harvest place; and were very unpleasant
young scum bags, in my humble opinion (IMHO). They had been sharing
their paper, and David handed it up to the row in front of him. They
were both sitting to the right of me, and a few rows to my front; at
about the 3rd row out of nine or ten rows total. I then observed that
the room had no ceiling at all, and was exposed to the sky. Jessica
Grant had suddenly punched him in the eye, and said to him, “You
should not have given him our paper. At that point I saw David's eye
get all bruised immediately, and begin to swell up like a rotten
looking apple. Then I looked at the floor in front of me, and
realized that one sheet had fallen out of my newspaper as I went to
hand it up to the row in front of me a moment ago. I then went to
pick it up, when I thought I would get a stroke and a seizure all at
the same time. I saw that this was a
tap-paper. You merely needed to tap
or touch on a story, and you would go right through the cosmanet
system, and then come out at some computer station, where
the story was uploaded from. I saw that
there was a story about an invention of a friend of Jim Burr's from
the middle seventies, that was on display at some large city some
place. It was called the Zvonko
Axelator. It had many features, but
it looked like a very large lap top, or small suitcase; and
it had a tap screen, and it also had
an old fashioned fold up style long antenna, and on the top of it,
was a mini dish of some sort that
received signals from
geosynchronous satellites. I tapped the story, and instantly I was
on some bright city block at around 12 noon, with a bright sun
shinning high, and directly over me; and it was warm but nor hot,
with a breeze blowing. I soon recognized that I had been in this part
of this 'dream within a dream', upon many occasions all throughout my
life; and it was in Chicago,
Illinois. Two men walked right up to
me, and accused me of conspiring
to bring the Antichrist to
Planet Earth, years ahead of schedule, and were showing me very
official metallic and photo-ID
badges. They worked for some agency,
and I could not believe it, as clear as day, the Photo-ID badges
read, above their clear photographs that matched the appearance of
these men perfectly; “WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE”.
They fucking cuffed me, and then they led me to an elevator in a
building, right beyond where I popped onto this street in Chicago.
The next thing I knew, I was on the 97th
floor of the building, and was led forcefully down a very long hall
that led to a T-shaped hallway system, where we turned left, and went
to the very end and into a room on the right of the hallway, to the
very last office suite. I was thrown down
as soon as they took off the hand cuffs, and I found myself on a
wrestling mat, and in this room, were Jesse Ventura; along with
several other young wrestlers, who I did not recognize. The final
thing I remembered, was being told that my distant relative, a Great
Aunt by the name of Alice
Gallagher Huntington, and her
brother and father; were all in with
Robert McGuire Senior, of Atlantic City,
who built the historic Tennessee
Avenue Hotel, in 1902; called the
Pittsburgh. They had a huge
global White Slaver Business, that
to this very day controls the entire White-Slave trade. I told them
all that I knew that this was true, and that I always figured that
this is why, my Aunt Alice was murdered in her sleep by her husband,
who totally lost it, after being told on a hunting trip one day by a
family member, that the feds had figured out this exact mob owned
branch of the trade, and tracked it to the Huntington family through
Arthur Huntington, the husband of my
Great Aunt Alice Gallagher
Huntington.
Then, I was told that I am going
through hell covertly by this agency because I did not allow myself
to be kidnapped into this fold in the late sixties, as was planned
from when I was a small child.
I had been warned by two very influential people, a world famous
comedian, and a beach bum who was my 2nd
father and hero; since my bio father had run off to salvage Spanish
treasure, with his pals, Kip Wagner, and Mel fisher. Then one of the
wrestlers put me in a horrible hold, and I went down again on the
mat, after I had stood up to discuss this matter. He kicked me and
spat on me and told me I am a no good rotten prick who will be
punished and fucked with until I am dead and buried. Then he kicked
me again, and spat on me again. My head was bleeding, and I was very
disoriented. Then he grabbed a coach whistle, and began blowing it
right into my ears over and over, causing agony. The next thing I
remember after that, was jumping practically out of my bed, to
another very loud fire alarm. Then just two and three quarters hours
later, all hell broke loose here in
this parallel universe as a result,
with a completely broken cable system.
I have had cable-TV since about 1986, off and on; and never have I
experienced a total breakdown of the
cable box. THIS
NEVER EVER HAS HAPPENED BEFORE, PEEPS.
I
will also tell you two more powerful mother fucking things, ladies
and gentlemen. First, I could not talk to the Office Manager on
Friday, the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
made me very ill, and I was too sick to leave the apartment, shitting
my guts out with diareah and cramping, and feeling really rotten.
But, the only thing I have heard from my nabes so far since Friday,
was a small normally played bit of music at 3:30 PM, that lasted
maybe 15 minutes give or take; and a few doors, and then today, both
morning and afternoon, and up through now; only one slammed door, and
a few normally closed doors. Now I
will tell you the Carol Burnett Mind
Reading Attack story, for my Morians, as well as for Patrick
Mentalist
Jane,
and the makers of the Pipe Games Experts
Television Show of 2008.
I did blog this as I said earlier, but I doubt the story is
remembered. Let me retell this horrible fucking violation
and trampling of my personal
CIVIL
RIGHTS,
HUMAN RIGHTS,
and CONSTITIONAL RIGHTS,
YO! I had just mother fucking cunt lapping left the K-Mart Store, in
Berlin, New Jersey, United States of America, Planet Earth, System
Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, (NJUSAESMWG), on the Route-30
or WHITE HORSE PIKE AKA the Jewelly
Horse Pike; back around 2003 somewhere, give or take maybe a year;
and was driving home, and talking into my fucking LIFE
JOURNAL,
which was a small tape recorder in the car that was held around the
head rest, of the front passenger side seat, and the handle of the
cassette tape recorder, by a strong rope, preventing damage, when I
needed to slam on breaks, keeping the recorder from slamming down to
the leg area of the seat, and being injured or broken; as was the
case once, before I used the rope system; and I told my journal, that
I could not wait to get home and jerk off,
looking at that lovely shot
that I had of Carol Burnett,
from some old mid seventies TV-show that I had found a few days back,
amongst so many of my
endless videotapes
in my video library. I arrived home within a half hour after making
that statement onto the taped life journal. I went to use the tape in
the VCR, and for no reason, and for the first time ever since I
bought my first VCR in 1988, bang; the tape for no
reason whatsoever, totally fucked up and broke,
and was ruined. Well, just earlier after being awake an hour after
that wild experience today, I said out loud to myself softly but
distinctly, I can re-watch my L&O-SVU at ten tonight, since I
forgot it was on back on Wednesday, and had missed it; and normally,
the Wednesday show is merely
repeated
on the following
Saturday night, on the same NBC networking
system. Well, as with Carol Burnett, no jerk off, and no show. YES
FOLKS, these are some more major mother fucking CONSTANTS
OF THE WOMO
MILITUFORCE
ENEMY.
Say something out loud in any way, and anywhere, AT ALL; and
“KAFUCKINGPOW”, YO; these forces fuck it up.
Now if this was just some
SATAN verses GOD nonsense,
it makes no sense, and Jim
Burr was the first to
say he had to admit,
it
was unexplainable, way back in 1977.
You would think from any
scripture in the bible, that SATAN would encourage
sin, and spilling your seed on
the ground is a biblical sin,
IE jacking
off looking at videos.
So if this Christian shit was really so real, and what was really
going on; then this shit
around me defies the entire fucking story.
Jim used to say it in such a depressing way, “It is so hard to
understand this sometimes. You'd
think SATAN would want you to sin,
and yet HE won't even
LET
YOU SIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No folks, this is not some simple fucking bible bullshit nonsense,
and what
is going fucking on around me,
is not going to ever be understood within 100-1000 years yet, as I
assure you all of fucking cunt that,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Even Jim Burr, could
not explain
my nightmare fucking endless hellish monstrous life.
Also, Ed Himacane Lynch could not. Nobody
fucking ass can! Not Art Bell, not Alex Jones, not Billy Graham, and
they
all have fucking cunt tried folks.
It
is the absolute quintessential reason that two words were really
invented a long time ago, 'MISSION
IMPOSSIBLE',
by the Hollywood crowd,
who always knew about our family, through
Maud Huntington Benjamin,
who was out there, and knew all of the original 'wooders' when it all
got started. My weekend has been ruined, and whoever did this, you
and your
entire family, will all DIE, DIE, DIE,
Roddenberry Trilane Squire-900LY. That's a fucking promise.
5555555555555555555555555555555555
*THIS
BLOG
ENDS*
LIKE
HELL IT DOES, PEOPLE!
Now,
instead of ending, we are up here in the future via Space-Time-Mind,
at half past two in the morning on the 5th
day of November in 2012, the day before the Presidential Elections
will be held. So no, this blog cannot tell those back two weekends
ago, who will be the next President after January of the year
twenty-thirteen rolls around. Still, I do find it a bit interesting
and mildly wild, that this was hacked into my mind, this blog number,
as I was convinced my computer was hacked when in fact it was my own
screwed up mind. I thought I was writing Chapter 0610, but this is
#0610, so when you get to #0610-B, it is one and the same thing as
CHAPTER 0620. My bad, or really, my Space-Time-Mind situation. We all
get them, but do we know what to do with them, to quote the great
cool kid of 1971, sir Frank
Janik
of Haddonfield's Crackpot Jason
Forrest School
on Hopkins Lane, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Oh well L-4, Peggy Lee said
it all a while back, let us just do a Dawn- Marie King here, you
know, “bring out the booze, and have a ball, if that's all, there
is. Wow, cool tune, Peg. Too bad DMK never learned the art of social
drinking, and blew out her liver, or in her case, her
dyer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAA.
People,
you need to find my postings of a tremendously gifted and wise soul,
by the name of DELORES CANNON. If you do not see it up here on my
blogs by clicking back into the October-2012 section on the right
hand margin, just go directly, not to jail or Monopoly, but take the
200 dollars, and go to the YOUTUBE, and type into the search bar, the
name DELORES CANNON. She will tell you mind boggling stuff on many of
her fantastic great videos, you go girl!!!!!!!
NOW
WE CAN END THIS TWANSMISSION, ELMER FWUDD.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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