SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0684

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXXXIV (0684)

BLAH-BLAH-BLEE-BLUE-BLUM

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY THAT WILL BE EDITED

FROM ACTUAL FILES KEPT ON MY OFFICE DOCUMENT

CHAPTER NUMBERS MAY ALTER, BUT NO MORE ACTUAL STARTS AND ENDS WILL BE POSTED AS SUCH, AND SOME BLOGS MAY GO UP AS SINGLES, WHILE OTHERS, MAY GO UP AS MULTIPLES IN A SUPPLEMENTAL VARYING TIMES, SERIES OF BLOGS POSTED ALL AS ONE BLOG.

FROM THIS POINT ONWARD, BEGINNING WITH SJ-CH-

0684, THESE ARE PRIVATE-ONLY JOURNALS, AND I MAY MAKE 'CAPPED EXTRA COPIES', THEN DELETING OUT, OR

SLIGHTLY ALTERING, ENTRIES FOR THE PUBLIC VIEW.

THIS BLOG THAT IS SEPARATE FROM THE OLDER ONE CONTAINING 5-BLOGS, BOTH POSTED AT BLOGGER DOT

COM, HAS NEARLY 7,000 HITS ON IT, FROM AN AUDIENCE THAT I AM ONLY ABLE TO ESTIMATE, IS SOMEWHERE

BETWEEN TEN AND FIFTY PERSONS. SOME MAY BE DAILY VIEWING 'REGULARS', OTHER SMAY BE THE OCCASSIONAL FLIPPER-VIEWER, NOT A REAL LARGE AUDIENCE, BUT

A 'REAL' ONE, NONE THE SAME. I ASKED THE FOLKS

READING THESE BLOGS, TO PLEASE CLICK ON MY MUSIC, AND TOLD THEM THAT MY BLOGS WOULD STOP OR STOP

FOR A WHILE IF THEY DID NOT, BECAUSE IF THEY ARE

SO INTRIGUED WITH MY BLOGS, WHY NOT GO AND VIEW

MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL MUSIC, AS MY MUSIC IS ALL A

PART OF MY LIFE AND WHAT THESE BLOGS ARE ALL

ABOUT. SO WHEN I CHECK IT OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, I WILL SEE IF ANYONE IS WILLING, AS SO FAR, THEY ARE NOT, FOR REASONS TOTALLY UNKNOWN TO ME, AND I

WOULD NOT EVEN HAZARD A GUESS. TEMPORARILY, I WILL BE TELLING EVERYTHING AS THOUGH THIS IS A

TOTALLY PRIVATE DIARY. WHEN AND IF I POST PUBLIC

AGAIN, I WILL TELL HOW CHANGES WILL BE PRINTED IN A PARTICULAR COLOR AND DIFFERENT FONT STYLE, ALWAYS THE SAME, AND ALSO, OMISSIONS WILL SHOW THAT SAME STYLE OF FONT AND SAME COLOR, ONLY INSTEAD OF THE WRITING, ASTERISKS WILL SHOW UP. WHEN I LEARN HOW TO POST A PRIVACY BLOG JUST SO I CAN KEEP THE FILES SAFE ON THE INTERNET IN CASE OF COMPUTER FAILURE, THEFT, FIRE, OR DISASTERS SUCH AS WHAT BEFELL ME WITH THE GREAT TAWF AND KING FAMILY IN THE YEARS 2008-2009; THEN I WILL POST THE COPY THAT IS NOT EDITED.

THIS WILL BE MY LAST REGULAR BLOG UNTIL I CHECK MY COUNTER AT YOUTUBE AND SEE JUST WHAT IS GOING ON. THIS ALLOWS ME TO SEE IF ANYONE IS WILLING TO GO AND LISTEN TO ANY OF MY STUFF. OF COURSE IF THEY WANTED TO JUST BE MEAN AND OR TRICKY, THEY CANCLICK ON IT AND VIEW IT FOR THREE SECONDS AND CLICK THE BACK ARROW OR THE BACKSPACE, AND CHEAT ME AND I WOULD NOT KNOW IT.

It is 11:00 in the morning, and this is the 20^th morning in December of 2012. Yesterday the 19^th, broke an 11-DAY super horrendous BOTBAR STREAK for me, praise the Gods, Goddesses, or whatever Lawtron Force creates both lower and higher entities in the scale, despite time being a total created illusion on their 7^th dimension of Lawtron.

So far, there has been some talking in the halls, not real annoying or loud, but still discourteous, by my nabes, and some loud traffic outside my window. Recently, I have picked up a new enemy jerk off on a motorcycle who tears by the building and intentionally guns is bike illegally, just to annoy and persecute me, it happens right at my point of hearing it the worst, and I am planning to install a video system, a simple web-cam to allow me to keep a continuous surveillance of the street outside, and then take the prints into the police for a close up zoom of the license plate, and demand that I want to file a complaint against this WOMO ENEMY. His registration has to have a real human name, and it won't be WOMO, unless by sheer coincidence, it is James Q. Womo, and I doubt that will be the case. By the way, the nabes did some door banging and loud talking out in the hall, and a little bit of their subwoofer noise earlier today, as now it is ten minutes before seven on this Thursday evening as I type on. Still, they were toned down from their usual real loud annoying and uncouth partying norms. Hellapukeyuk praise the SAR. In ancient Aramaic lingo, SAR means LORD, and ESS means ah. This is why the name of Goddess is equal to the name of Sarah, in Christianity of olden times of biblical antiquity and even into BCE dates.

When I was on Tennessee Avenue in the winter of 1997, I met Robert McGuire for the first time, in my adult life. I know that I encountered him at least once as a youth as well, and this is topic for later blogs. Still, about just less than ten years later in the autumn of 2006, while with Edward Lynch, AKA Ed Himacane, on my blogs; this man did something that was right along the same lines of what he somehow did to me when we met in 1997 when I went down to ask some questions about the great Sarah Krassle. AS I SPEAK, A NASTY LEFT SIDE DEATH ANGEL IS STRIKING ME AT TWO MINUTES PAST SEVEN THIS EVENING, 12/20/12. I have had since just the first day of summer, within a three percent tolerance of this figure, about 985 of these attacks now, pretty much averaged with left verses right sides, with a slight gain on the left side, reported just in case this bears out to have some weird significance, shortly, or far into the future; so it is now being recorded onto the blog legally, and permanently; and this will not be a part that is edited. Let us keep moving on with the topic of worm holes, Tennessee Avenue, the Ancient Astronaut Theory Club, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, New Jersey, and great family overseer and director, MISTER Robert Nonwaterhosedreams McGuire.

He and all of this great family called TAWF, have an original entry point establishment and then later on, a second major point as well, and I believe this is why many interesting things that pertain to mysterious unexplainable miracles as well as things that seem to go on as if time stands still or has no significance around these two geographical areas, in fact are happening and a part of our combined waking world reality as a global society, I speak of Jerusalem in Israel, and a very special area in Ireland, where their was long ago, a family of great 'medical people', their name of course not being Paula King or her SIR NAME as this was but a street name used in the sixties by her, maybe for only my benefit, I have no way of knowing, but I am not speaking of Roseann Delaney and her neck kisses, just the nomenclature. On top of this however, is the UFO phenomenon of the common experience by hundreds and maybe by now even thousands who have reported being abducted and kidnapped, taken to some area, be it an air-ship or not, and examined or messed with in one way or another, “MEDICALLY”. Oh those sandy hour glasses, old soap operas, messages, and early nineties Camden County, New Jersey Prosecutor's. The letters that are right next to each other on a keyboard, both vowels, the “I” and the “O” are so interesting, in what I call the Henry Fonda Ling-Long Syndrome. Interchanging these, on or off of the Speedship Sunram, in or out of any hypnotherapy clinics such as Doctor Mark Wolf's place on Main Street, in Moorestown, New Jersey; can do some interesting things, when my life is included along with 12 other very angry men, and associates of the great actor, at one time in history, and father of a person who is not on my Christmas list, on the nice side aniwho, MISTER HENRY FONDA. This was a very great actor, and a very distinguished and fine gentlemen, and I would have been very proud to have known this man. In the movie that he starred in a while back, called, “12 Angry Men”, a person's last name was being searched for in someone's memory, in a jury room; and the script went, “Barbara Ling or Long”, differed only by that one vowel. This holds true with whether something is previous or precious, whether it be an air ship or maybe even, on the outside chance, an air shop. There are dozens of more things I would add if time permitted, but I do want to make a lot of points here and keep this moving onward. I do need to tell you, that in the days when this great movie was made, no nasty curse words were used, yet I can show you a little time travel or EXPLORATRON ACTIVITY involved in some way, as nothing else explains it, yet nobody on the all mighty YOUTUBE knows about it or posts a small part of it with Hollywood's permission, maybe they refuse to give it, I don't know, but in the show, when the man with the accent who says, “beg pardon” on numerous occasions, on one occasion where another angry juror then interjects about his opinion being made, you can hear the voice of another juror who plays a main role along with mister Fonda, you cannot miss the sound of his voice and you know it is him, and yet you need to listen quite carefully, maybe with computer ear buds, but all of a sudden in an old black and white movie, plain as day, you can hear that man saying, “Oh fuck this shit”, it is unmissable, and without what all of you would insist had to be real tangible physical time travel, it just could not be done, and I dare anyone to go and rent this wonderful court drama movie, and listen real carefully. I love being proved wrong, the problem is that I really to never am. This is not a brag, as I want to be shown that I did not really die on the night of August the 15^th in 1986, and go to eternal hell. I really do want that, and can you blame me anybody? Now moving back to ROBERT MCGUIRE. This dude has access to what I call a TTD in my 2008 and 2009 blogs, quite frequently. This stands for TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICE, as it is literally hard-wired, directly into the vehicles of those who I call and label on my last seven years of my blogs, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE. My mom was nearly killed for going near one of these, at the Turnersville Pathmark Shopping Center, of Washington Township, Turnersville, in New Jersey, back on the second day in August of 1996. The Camden County Prosecutor was informed of this terrorist threat made to me and my mother, as my mom told me that the driver of this van that had been stalking us for many miles and parked close to where we had parked at this shopping center, that he would kill her son, ME, and her as well, if she did not get away from the vehicle. She was only going over to ask the crazy agent dude why he would not stop stalking and follow us through about fifteen towns in Southwest New Jersey that day. This was the day that I was doing everything in my power, and failing, to find a studio where I could book a session to record the song that I had written and sang back on the 12^th day of May in 1996, copyrighted shortly thereafter, called, SARAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This reminds me as it should remind any non lobotomized person, how music and my songs causes TWILIGHT ZONE SIZED troubles for me, just as with the recent YOUTUBE POST UP the other day, called, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”. I am wondering if anyone in my audience of 10-50, my guess here as how can I know anything other than total counter hits; ever put these two MUSICAL PROBLEMS OF MINE, together, as I of course did, since this is of course, MY LIFE, did I say, MY?

Moving on now, THIS FAMILY has powers and abilities that would SUPERMAN as well as the great JENNY JOHNSON SHARK-CHUCKER, I speak of 1970-TAWF. All my blogs from where they began, discuss the being at the home of child molester, Thomas J. Reale, on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New jersey, in 1970, and having a series of recurring dreams about this family, that I was not able to understand until I actually began first meeting them, 29 months after this time in July of 1970, and this was just one home that this, as he used to say and call it, “property-rich” scum bag pervert, owned at the time, and now lives in Somers Point, New Jersey, where Frank Callio lived, the retired Sergeant of the Atlantic City Police Department, only when I spoke to him in the early summer or late spring time in 1997 after first seeing Robert McGuire back on the 7^th of February; he was still actively operating as a Police Officer Sergeant. I believe the lady that this BISEXUAL PERVERT WAS DATING, DURING THIS TIME WHERE I LIVED THERE, AND WAS HAVING THOSE RECURRING SERIES TYPE OF NIGHTMARES, ABOUT A FAMILY WHO CUT ME OPEN AND TOOK OUT MY LUNGS, AND TURNED THEM INTO STRANGE WEIRD WASHCLOTHS, AND REFERRED TO THEMSELVES IN MY MIND THROUGH SOME NON SPOKEN TELEPATHY PROCESS, AS “THAT-FAMILY”, AND A LOT MORE; but yes, this lady was Frank Callio's Aunt Victoria Callio. She used to comment to me over and over when she would see me out on the street, “Oh you have such gorgeous hair”. It is truly amazing that she did not rape me, along with all the others; as she wanted me, and looked at me as a piece of meat for her hungry sick sexual desires. There is a good chance however that she did, because I would have no memory of it as this is one of the mighty powers of the mighty frightening THAT-FAMILY, or TWAF, who tormented me in dreams all my life after this point, and it will never stop, not ever, it is inescapable. I know that now, and have for nearly five years, after putting a lot of this miserable crap together. McGuire beat up Eddie and me on his street in 2006, put sand in my vehicle, and only the website photo was able to catch this deed of darkness and daughters and old songs of the middle seventies, but all; things do speak to me, and well they should, as if I had heeded the ?Haddonwood dance song warning, and wanted to survive and keep my property and belongings in tact, I indeed did need to RUN AWAY, just as the song in 1995 said to. I was again, too late, and again, paid the price, wow, I really am the endless new kid on the town block, and yes, nobody wants to hear it, so I cannot blame just McGinty and multimillionaire Marcus. NOBODY wants to hear it, and they all just let me down, right 1979 Randy Van Warmer. What scares me the total most though, Doctor Doogie Howser of the Grant Glands and chocking neck bites, is that folks are indeed deaf to the shouting cosmos. They act as though they want to have 'psychic power', which is nothing more than the extension of an all ready existing sensory system that we all ave in various degrees and amounts, the sense of FEELING, local walls and messages notwithstanding. I have no memory of McGuire being there, but the website photograph clearly shows him right there on the passenger side of my vehicle, that day in middle-late October of 2006, where Ed was sitting and holding the camera, and it all came out, and is now in the property of the illustrious and wonderful New Jersey corrupt ATLANTIC COUNTY PROSECUTOR, and when I had this site up on the internet, it cost me $45.00 per year, and I did not have any money to keep it there, and Ed's computer was confiscated, they thought of every mother fucking possible angle to screw me and take away my evidence; and then people ask me, why DO I HATE AND DESPISE THESE UGLY ROTTEN TWISTED PEOPLE SO MUCH, AND BOY DO I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They remove your memories, yet they forget to remove the evidence, and why? Because they know that they own the entire world and that nobody will ever help me against these FUCKING UFO ALIEN SCUM BAG WOMO-MILITUFORCE PEEPS, that's freaking WHY. What did you say to me, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR, and by the way, where is Mister A, Mister B, Mister D, Mister E, and Mister G? James Pratt up in 2341 wants to know, as a grown up adult, on his Colony-256 home, one and a half quadrillion miles from the Earth? Where are these other 347 and 201 folks hanging around the dam ether's of cosmos? I have no conscious memory of being raped by Paula King on the first Saturday of 1969, just powerful dreams that never go away, and a blotted out McGuire TTD memory tamper, but the photos work, with or without the Morianity-Foundation website.

Certain things were not dreams however. The chain, the trinitrail, the stolen items at Dellway Arms Apartments, the things Robert McGuire did, the things that happen when I try to ever do anything that has anything to do with my music be it in 1996 or 2012 or ever, the other rapes, the 27 years of persecution, the chocking, the time travel with mighty NIXPLORATRON, first to my high school in 1996, then to the future to where the 2008 World Series had completed and the Phillies had won, all the things that McGuire made me forget including the name of Callio when I left his horrible monster nightmare bar that day in early February of 1997, my education being totally ruined, my social life being totally ruined, everything that I ever tried to do financially, always wiped out time and time again, thousands of things, it just cannot all be some wild mother fucking coincidence.

When I could not do what I wanted to at the library a couple of days ago, there was a strange situation that made it possible for me to accomplish what would never have been possible otherwise. Even though I have totally kept my mouth shut, the WOMO knows all about it, right teary eyed pollution Native American hot nineties kitty cat Malyeska? I may not be the great you know who, and I may not be chasing people up and down places that we do not talk about, but I will tell you what I am being. I am being someone who has done his robotic thing. I have no choice but to go through the motions, I died on August 15^th from a major ear infection, in my sleep, back in 1986, and I am just doing what anyone in Hell is doing, SUFFERING, SUFFERING, SUFFERING, SUFFERING, SUFFERING!!!!!!!That is all I AM DOING. So you all know every little thing about me, huh? Well, then do you know why I never planned on having children? Do you, Mister Fireside Woodside Witness? Do you really? You all think you know so much. Do you know that there are gogalplexes to the power of gogalplexes of parallel universes, and in many of them, tomorrow will be the last day that civilization exists? If what I tried to do had worked and people had not let me down, and cared enough, we could rest in peace. Now, in this reality, the world will go on, and on, and tomorrow will be just another day, and you will go on like I do, suffering, most of you, will live paycheck to paycheck with sickness, so-called friends who stab you in the back and start evil rumors about you, the oil supply will run out, and oil does a lot more than just make electricity run and work, most products need it to exist, and replicators like out of Star Trek will not have time to be invented because we will all be back in the 1600's again when the teenagers of today are my age. This is your wonderful future, half the world dead from plagues when no more modern devices like climate control and food cooling exists, and things will be so horrible that nobody in Washington will dare to tell you. You will all beg the cults that want to kill most of us off through chemtrails, to do just that, and put us out of our hell and miserable suffering.

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The fucking fives compensate or (cunt-phlegm-rape) for my seeing page eleven of eleven on my office 3.1 document system. We do not need any comets, meteors, hurricanes or floods, all we need is the lifestyle we have and expect to keep. We cannot keep this, it is a huge illusion. Before my older daughter is back in HER GREAT CITY, this entire global society will run out of time, because it ran out of resources and ability to make and sustain a power. If we had planned and rationed and done things differently, then we would have lived to where gravigain hypertronic technology will power everything, and replicators use atomic duplication technology, to make everything, and controlled safe robots that make other robots, and keep them repaired; make all of the things that we now must work so hard for to purchase in stores. Now there will be many many more parallel realities, where this all comes true. But the hellish one here, does not have a snowball chance in a fully cranked up oven. Because nobody believed me, you will watch a slow agonizing process of your own lives, turning into total shit. Oh the great stock market will be at all time highs as it is just about now, and as I indeed said that it would, right lovely GINA; but that is merely the indicator light of how well the one percent who own the rest of all of us, are doing, so go ahead and dance up and down like Drew Carey fools on, The Price Is Right, television show; while it keeps soaring up to the stars, and you and me sink down the toilet into a huge pile of endless stenchy liquid shit. You know folks, a little voice tells me, fuck the editing, read it all, hear it all, even the truth about Paula King, believe what you want about me, and enjoy your dam future with me, here in fucking HELL!

END OF SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0684 WITHOUT EDIT.