Saturday, December 8, 2012

FCC, FBI, HACKING AGAIN, SJ, CH. 0664, YO












SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXIV

KING NEBNOOSHOO THE OLD SNEAK-0664

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296

SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: 120812.922

© 2006-2012 BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (URL)

© MARK WAYNE MOHR-MORIANITY-FOUNDATION



BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:











Gee people, could I be right again with my trillions of predictions? DUH! By the way, when I said decillion, I meant to say nonillion, several blogs back, when I posted up that very large number. Yes Bruce Allen Pennock, I still can hear that Mini Ripperton way you would say back in the early seventies that we are all human, and that nobody is perfect, old buddy, old pal, forget about any cement businesses or building and loan outfits, hyperspace traveler Jimmy!!!!!!!!!!!!













I SAID THAT PUSSY COMMAND WOULD COME IT THIS FUCKING DEATH SIEGE DIUD NOT BACK THE SHIT OFF, FOLKS, AND IT DID, YOU, JUST TODAY WHILE OUT VISITING MY PAL ON HUTCHINSON ISLAND SOUTH, MIKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I left his house at just minutes past five this frikkin evening, YO, I went to put seven smacks into my automobile at the only station that is still open on the island, down the way from the Subway Restaurant, and when I went in, a lovely doll around twenty give or take a couple of years, was all over me, even staring and me and smiling when she walked out of the place. Other female flirtation incidents were also part of my excursion outside today, but this was the largest one. I could have smiled at her and she would have given it up, YO. I think I am doing pretty mother fucking good for age fifty-eight. Oh 'Captains', oh much shit keeps talking the same tune, YO?















L-4, there is a lot to tell, and not all will be told, not by a fucking cock licking long shot, not right now, friends and fiends. I will cut to the chase and tell what I feel needs to be told right know on this very blog, in this endless and fucking unrelenting war with the OTAMMIC WOMO MILI-2-FORCE. All day, doors are fucking slamming and banging, the fucking music was cranked up at twenty past eight and then went down to a tolerable level. This was another MAJOR SUPER MOTHER FUCKING CUNT EATING SUPER BOTBAR MONSTER DAY for me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, it is not as though any of this fucking twisted diseased horse swallowing shit is new, it isn't. That's the fucking problem folks, it is old, and as I told fucking Ingrid in early 1984 over the internet telephone of the few in the know peeps that know what this is all fucking ass about; it is “VERY VERY VERY OLD”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's a quote, and not a fucking ass exaggeration, YO dude. I have not had to my best recollection aniwho, any 'dreaming-interactions' that involve THE LOTTERY, since that day in early autumn somewhere of 1980, back in Voorhees, New Jersey, Mister Crowley Towtrucks Glendale Bank CROOKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Last night, as you all wonk from the blog a couple back from this one, I did, and big time. But I had a wild experience earlier in the fucking night as well, and I will tell you all something about it right now. Some of my readers know about the Speedship Sunram that I designed around the time of the total eclipse of the sun in the East New Jersey area, in middle March somewhere back in 1970, during the big drop of snow. Oh Babe, Misses Henderson, what can I say to these hurricanes a couple of years later, you dog, WOLF? Aniwho, powerful fucking sghit is all involved with this wild solar powered jet hydroplane speed-ship, that I sat down and designed for no apparent reason whatsoever. It was the very first thing that popped into my deeper unconsciousness during the hypntgherapy at Doctor Mark Wolf's Clinic on Main street in Moorestown, in early 1996, right after my coyunselor at the Saint Barnabas shit hole in Cherry hill, New Jersey, suffered a mental collapse and nervous breakdown after I told him about SARAH KRASSLE, and the 1986 powerful 'nightmare' that seemed to last for five full months, and I know that the Star Trek people used this story line on their episode with the Rusican planet and Picard being struck on the bridge of his starship by their probe and under its control for 25 minutes, only to him, it was a mother fucking ass lifetime. I am so glad when I can offer so many folks, so many bright ideas, Mizz Parsons of Pinkerton Security company, even after all these years have now mother fucking passed, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There were many other powerful things that all connected into this wild experience, as I said, telling just a little bit of it to Counselor Kieth, over at Saint Barnabas Health clinic in late 1995 somewhere, and he went fucking ass nuts, for all I know he drove to the Tulleytown, Pennsylvania landfill, fell asleep one night on top and met Bloody Mary, as this will do it every time, and no candles, or sore throats, or bitten up necks are necessary, to do the job, Parson Brown, WHAAAA and super fucking W---O---W. No mahm, yes mahm, and merry Christmas, and screw the LAMBRIGG CULT, YO!!!

SUNRAM was named for the eclipse, and the appearance of the moon and sun 'ramming' into each other at this time. But SUNRAM is all tied into the locked box that contained a powerful and beyond outlandish motor-cycle chain, and book, written by me at age fourteen, called, THE BOOK OF BEACH, an adolescent version of MORIANITY and the story of my experiences, limited then so I thought and believed, to ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, was this laugh on me about a trillion mother fucking ass times peeps. It was right around the time that I designed this solar-powered hydroplaning water vessel, and snow storm, and total eclipse, that another incident also had occurred. I had a powerful interaction with THE SUN. He told me that everybody thought he was going to last a very long time, but that he was shortly going to die. I laughed at him in the “DREAM” and told him he will be around about another five billion years, this is what I was taught in school, it was a ten billion year cycle yellow type average star, our closest one, and that it was about mid way into its nuclear burn cycle as it converts hydrogen into helium, as all stars do. He kept insisting that the scientists had it all wrong and that he was not going to be around much longer. If you study and examine my blogs in 2006-2008, I totally know that I have blogged and told you all about this dream in vivid detail before. Right now, the sun is at its peak for intensity in an eleven year cycle, as every 5.5 years it is at its lowest intensity, and then goes to its highest in another 5.5 years. If we back up the years, this year in 2012, this means the cycles going back through time where the sun is most active with solar storms and many other electromagnetic and nuclear events, would be as follows as we simply keep subtracting twelve years into the late part of these other earlier years. 2001, 1990, 1979, 1968, 1957, 1946, and 1935. Historians know well, a powerful pattern of human behavior seems to honestly parallel these times of greater solar intensity. Just going back a few, we get 9-11, the death of Sarah J. Karge at the age of 94 years, the rise of the great disco queen Donna Summer into her most glorious year, the final year that my mom and I vacationed together at the Atlantic City TRINIDAD HOTEL on TENNESSEE AVENUE, and the first televised black and white old SUPERMAN show from the writers and owners “Action Comics”, as in comic stores, the Callio's, and Karge's hotel original owner's adopted 'son', Chester Perkowski. Many would laugh who reside in Missouri, and say that anyone can do stuff like this with cycles and words and patterns and rhythms, etcetera, and my answer to them is I know that they can, they just are too stupid to go and do it. I pushed a button quickly by pure accident, folks, and look what magically appeared on the blog, from my last blog, if this is not beyond awesome, my

question is then, tell me what is, YO?



























Have you ever ever wondered where the chemtrails really go?

Do they merely just go whizzing by and make the four winds blow?

Do the fish out in the ocean even care that they are there?



The way that things have all become might end up in a glare.

We think we know, we feel we know, we stop and go so fast and slow, but out at sea or here with me, one thing I know, it isn't nineteen-eighty-three.



WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!



Yes the good old tell you anything song, sure rubbed a lot of fucking feathers and gills, the wrong way, huh my fellow citizens of this wonderful ass Earth Planet? Like DUH. Oh Mrs. Marola, you are relentless when you want your way, or really, need your way might explain stuff a little better. Please don't make my endless hell even worse, YO. Thank you.





W---O---W.









HOW ABOUT MY SONG, CHEMTRAILS OF 1987, REALLY, DOES ANYONE HAVE ALL THE DAM ANSWERS FOR ALL OF THIS, PRESIDENT KORSOKOLF MCCOY? Let me take a breath and try and clear my throat now, Shirley and Stephanie, and Mizz Taylor, and Mizz Howard, and even you too, wonderful Melanie, fuck your roller skates, the other Melanie from the office, and yes, your other left, Bobby, boy do I know about con jobs and mother fucking rip offs, AAU, and old pal, Lightning Prefontaine of Coos Bay, Oregon. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!











END TRANSMISSION FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.







Well, this is not the end of anything, but somehow this accidental click, did all of this. Maybe the sun, or boat rider Jimmy Dean up at my cousin's place in Babylon, New York back in 1975, is trying to send me a powerful bizarre message here. I swear that I did not do this folks, and I have a lit more to tell you after I eat dinner and relax with the eleven fucking of the clock news, I like to keep current and view the news at least three times a week, WHAAAAAA.



Nighty-night for now, and I will tell huge shit later on, so brown eyed Cow CAL-LIO, I bid you a fond ado and farewell for right ass now, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





END TRANSMISSION:


REPOST FROM THE FUTURE
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0196
5 PM, TUESDAY, JULY 19, 2011
ALL SUBTITLES APPLY
START OF BLOG:
555555555555555555555555555555555555555
I'm under a major fucking aerial death siege, dissipation chemtrail spatter, loud planes, low flying helicopters, all over, major attack at work, and all over in general.

Normally, I speak to my pal named Eric, on Wednesdays, over at the HFOC. However since tomorrow I'll do my civic duty at the court; I was able to see him today. Many things were talked about. Life really is a funny old dog, & I agree with my other pal from the TV, Jack McCoy; as just as I make a little headway on one thing, other things go awry, at least my more negative viewpoint that seems to kick in a lot, tends to see things this way, and you out here folks, do not need to know the details. The reason for my siege today is obvious, and this much I can, AND WILL SAY, peeps, YO!

The interaction was off the scale major last night, with peeps more powerful than most of the great Astral Plane gods. I AM GONNA' TELL IT, as THEY don't want it told, as this gives me a big-one-up on THEM, by thus telling it, you remember me Jesse, my lovely tattle tail ball player of the MOUNTAINPEN MORE DISTANT ARCHIVED BLOGS, YO!!!!!!!! B4I do tell it, let me just say this first, pweeeeeeeeeze folks, YO. Parlor tricks are the best explanation, despite Albert Einstein and all of the other scientific hocus pocus of actual TT, for my wild and otherwise totally unexplainable freaking hellish nightmare life, or subvamperism if a better term may be permitted here UNCLE SNOOTS GOTTWALD, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For the few dumber folks that make Lonnie Jackson's light appear to shine with megawatt brilliance in comparison, on the greatest law show in our world's history, IMHO, “Law & Order”; who did not realize that all I did a few days ago was a simple archive cut and paste to my word program, and then re-cut and re-paste, back onto my blogging sites of www.blogger.com/ and www.wordpress.com/, this is all that happened. For whatever reason, I yelled out in a questionable way, nearly 25 years ago to the day now, the word “MY” or “MI” was not one bit different. All illusionists like Pat Jane and myself, can use many tricks, however, I am not doing the main trick, and this is what I CANNOT MAKE MOST PEEPS AROUND ME AND THINK THEY KNOW ME SO DAMN WELL, HONESTLY BELIEVE, AS THEY TOTALLY THINK I AM EITHER DELUSIONAL, OR PULLING A SUPER ASS FAST ONE; and these two things are simply not the case here. My motives have been guessed wrong by peeps since I was a very small child, and completed an entire years worth of math homework in one night, at the Quakertown, Pennsylvania Richland Avenue Grammar School, back in '61, or '62, or whenever. I have no need to feel important. I all ready know that I am just a pile of worthless mucous and dogshit all mixed together. I have no desire to be or do anything, other than to leave this physical life and nightmare dream; and never ever again be forced to return back into it, but unfortunately folks, this is not a small order, it is a very tall one. I am no different than all of you, we all simply exist, and right now, I am aware and conscious to one particular set or sequence of dreaming interactions in one particular and exact reality in the 5th dimensional hyperspace of waves and particles; that are receiving not only the entire interaction, but other things not yet mentioned by this blogger, all from a 'locale' known by me as the 6th dimension. I want to escape my nightmare, and this is not a possible reality. I am glad that I have a limited contact point now with my wonderful and very special daughter, but this changes nothing about wanting to get out of here forever, and stay out. Now that this is all out of the way, and you all know I'm suffering a wicked demonic death siege from WOMO today; let's freaking move on with the powerful “dreaming of last night”.

If nightmares in reverse dreams, could be individually 'tagged' and named, no pun Michelle and 'kin'; this could be filed and categorized quite well, under the heading of “LOOP-TRUTHS”. Why, why, why, do I say this, Jimmy Copyrights, from the wonderful marvelous astounding '84 year, we all may presume, or all those named Stanley??????????????? Well, it was a dreaming where ultimate loops and full-circles presented themselves, and cleared up some super mysteries for me about my rotten diseased pathetic twisted screwed up life, that's why, DJ-DS and other robbers, burglars, and stories for me to tell the prosecutors when asked about tomorrow at the Vuodier. It is misspelled, and spell checker is naturally its usual no-help self; but you know what I'm saying folks. I cannot wait to tell just how much crime I have been a victim of tomorrow, and all under oath YO!!!!!!!!!! So eat some Friendly Ice Cream, and enjoy it Donna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes this was a powerful DREAM. I have never ever had this powerful a dream about GAWKY GAUKAUK before, not ever. Not even at Selena's Rooming House on Stenton Avenue, in Rip Off Town East, Copyright Examiners. So you would never hurt me as the bird, ha, most cats love to hurt birds. Well, there was a more powerful Esolph's Fairy-fable situation, going on here; than the mere Caterpillars, Butterflies, and Kitty-Cats. I hated the living guts out of the bastards who locked me out of the large van vehicle and made me face Gawky all by myself, that is until the lesson was learned, and I jumped up and flew all over, and when I landed, there was Gawky, telling me in a non-cat form of course, that he would never hurt anything that could fly, as he is fascinated by me. People and their brains out their ass, it flabbergasts me to no end, all their computer skills, their electronic wisdom, and scientific knowledge; and still they are as dumb as a smelly old freaking ox. They buy their blue-ray machines, and their DVD-CD systems, or whatever other devices, and it brings back in a few dimensions; the reality of sounds and sights of life, and living things; and do not put together that in less than three centuries, it will be able to bring back all of the dimensions, and be a lot more than movies and music; and can be placed in a field that simulates distance, so as to scan for whatever is being sought to recreate, and alagazam Houdini and Reel-Good-Tapes, I AM THE BLUE RAY, gimme' a break Christianity, will ya'?

Why are you so fascinated with me {Tony}? Well, the old antimatter argument presents itself to any open minded individual. {Y-NOT}!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “Doowonddah others”, as Gawky did so to me; huh Uncle Jesus???????????? Gimme' a break, you're family's driving me fucking nuts, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tell me how deluded and full of antimatter containment fields I really am, old pal Mister Hawking?

Stop worrying about why I can do certain things, and focus on why you are so hellbent on ruining my entire life, PAULA BELINDA KING, my beautiful endless love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HELP ME RHONDA-ANN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END OF BLOG:






This is a little addition, made by me up in the future. Mark, go back in time in your mind, and tell Jessica Grant that as Jesus knew the rooster would sound before Peter Denied knowing him and turned on him as so many turn on me, I already know that that will be my last week in early middle March of next year, or 2012. She will hear me say this to some one as she walks by, and then she will terminate my employment, just to fulfill the prophecy, made by the PROPHET OF NOTHING FROM 1988. Still, this is not what happened four years ago for me up here, as far as the great Philadelphia Phillies winning the World Series Championship Game on Halloween Day in 2008. This was not done like these tricks are done. This was done by the great travelers of the cosmos, my wonderful daughter and her wonderful husband, hay, maybe they are very wonderful people indeed, then again, who knows? Wo, I just report the news folks, I never try and make any of it, folks.

My point is that when the United States Copyright Office, listens back to what was sent to their office by me, mailed from the Cherry Hill, New Jersey area, on the 15th of August in 1986, titled, “Real Good Girl”, I have no idea why the word of “MY” is heard at the beginning, before the song begins. What I do know is that I did what Lieutenant Van Buren told Detective Fontanna to do on the great “L&O” television show, I “followed the facts”. I did what ADA Jack McCoy told the Police Commissioner that he was going to do, in that same show, “I let my investigation take me where it took me”, and so here I now am, up here on this 29th day of September of 2012, at twenty minutes shy of eleven Post Meridian on a late Saturday not so all right night, Sir Elton.






Well folks, I got through the day, and that is the goal of every single one of them, just to make it through. Every son of a bitch alcoholic who joined AA, knows precisely what I am talking about here, and do not think that drug or alcohol or even sex or gambling or whatever the normal vice might be, is all there is here, Miss Peggy Lee. There are a few other scattered folks, with other woes, such as all of the 'homeless', and the 'crazies', and all of those 'legitimately persecuted', by invisible cosmic life forces, that no one can ever see, or hear, or touch, or smell, or taste; but the gods know that they are both there, and that this is totally real.

Let me tell you DEAR SELF, back there a ways in time, another thing that you most likely already have figured out. Eric is not your friend, nobody is, even Ann is a no good rotten whore who, as she said she does to any and all of her 'enemies', killed you with kindness. WEEEEEEE, this must be death, oh great Ann King. Enjoy my $5000.00 Mitsubishi American Appliance forty inch television set, sweetie. Your daughter Dawny was so right about you honey-cakes, “You were not my buddy”. Thanx Dawn-Marie, and may your whole dam family rot in the fires of hell, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.


BYE-BYE, EARTHQUAKE RUMBLING SOUNDS OF 1983!!!!!!!!!!










Now we will just try something that may or may not work, good folks. Let me see if I can CAP the report I talked about on SAFE JOURNAL # 0577, about the quake in KALI.





Magnitude 6.2 - GULF OF CALIFORNIA

This web-page is being phased out and is no longer maintained. Please use the new Real-time Earthquake Map instead and update your bookmark. See Quick Tips & User Guide.

2012 September 25 23:45:26 UTC




Earthquake Details

  • This event has been reviewed by a seismologist.
Magnitude
 6.2
Date-Time
Location
 24.835°N, 110.152°W
Depth
 10.1 km (6.3 miles)
Region
 GULF OF CALIFORNIA
Distances
 76 km (47 miles) NNE of La Paz, Mexico
153 km (95 miles) SW of Ahome, Mexico
154 km (95 miles) E of Ciudad Constitucion, Mexico
157 km (97 miles) SW of Los Mochis, Mexico
Location Uncertainty
 horizontal +/- 13.7 km (8.5 miles); depth +/- 1.9 km (1.2 miles)
Parameters
 NST=441, Nph=441, Dmin=470.9 km, Rmss=1.12 sec, Gp= 68°,
M-type=regional moment magnitude (Mw), Version=A
Source
  • Magnitude: USGS NEIC (WDCS-D)
    Location: USGS NEIC (WDCS-D)
Event ID
 usc000cw0l
Did you feel it? Report shaking and damage at your location. You can also view a map displaying accumulated data from your report and others.



Share this page:

I AM LOVING IT, MCDONALD'S. WATCH OUT FOR BOBBY VANDEGRIFT HOWEVER, HE CAN GET ROUGH.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.










Posted by at
Labels: , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)