SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXXII -----(0672)
BLAH-BLAH-BLAH-BLAH-SUPER
TWEET BLOG:
START:
Thank
you for coming to see me, lovely DIANA, this early morning just
before daylight. WOMO-MIL hates it when you come around and bring
your wonderful colored lightning all over me, lovely special baby
blond.
My
filth ball neighbors had a huge fight around two this afternoon,
shouting and banging and screaming, well, at least not crying, maybe
they never heard a song written by me in nineteen fucking eighty cock
sucking six, called, “REAL GOOD GIRL”,
but in any case, as Coach Bowerman said to Mack over in Munich,
Germany a while back, “Christ, who gives a shit”? They have
blared their filthy PSYCHIC STEREO SUBWOOFER SYSTEM off and on all
day, and Debbie has a creditability-zero
rating with me, and yes, L&O got this from hearing
Dave Roth and me saying it over a FISA bugged phone for the second
fucking half of the nineteen eighties, and the biggest MIND
CONTROL system on this planet, is the major networks, in
America there are but three, the American Broadcasting Company, the
National Broadcasting Company, and the Columbia Broadcasting system,
or ABC, NBC, and CBS, like fucking DUH, it is all connected, right
along with Oprah, Trump, and all of these filthy ass LMBRIGG
CULT/ILLUMINATI DIRT BAGS!!!!!!!!!!!!
No
giant mystery is going on folks, this is not the fucking UFO
phenomenon, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS
BLOG IS OVER.
W-----O-----W
BOY
THOSE COCK SUCKERS LOVE THAT FUCKING POUNDING ASS SICK SHIT OVER
THERE. I MAY CALL THE POLICE AGAIN, AND THIS TIME ASK HOW I CAN PRESS
CRIMINAL FUCKING CHARGES, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXVI (SATAN CHAPTER)
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
121112.100
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
BSNF:
“2012 & 1986, SAME PCN, & SAME SATANIC HELL”
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
There
is no place for me to begin, as this is not a blog like other blogs.
Every day ties into thousands of other ones before it, every minute
is part of it all as well, and unlike any of you, this indeed really
is my nightmare mother fucking reality, and it is not any of yours,
no matter how much hell or shit you are suffering through, and that
is all for one very explainable reason that you will all doubt of
course, that being, the HUNTINGTON CURSE.
It is so amazing how nothing can escape the biosphere of the control
over me that this cunt lapping Huntington Curse has. One out of a
million case and point examples would be as follows. My mother asked
me why Jehovah would come to me as SHE has, all my life, in so many
forms and ways, and insist that all three of Her unknown by mortal
world people names, are spelled absolutely one way; and not in any
other possible way, that they could in fact be spelled. Not many
variations exist in Her CITY NAME, 'JEHOVAH', but all the other three
do indeed have alternate spellings, here on this Earth Planet. Sarah
does not have to be spelled with an “H”. Stacey does not have to
be with an “E” and can be spelled in several other ways. Krassle
is a name that exists on the Earth Planet, it is rare, but nowhere
have I ever found one spelled with two “S” letters, and then
followed by the consonant and then the ending vowel. Spelling this
fantastic four name set in any other way other than SARAH-STACEY
JEHOVAH KRASSLE, is not spelling the ASTRAL-PLANE name of the ALL
MIGHTY GODDESS OF THIS MULTIVERSE, AND ABSOLUTE RULER AND OWNER OF
EVERYTHING. I feel more sorry for the Christians than for
any other group on this Earth Planet. They want to see miracles, they
want to believe certain things, and I absolutely know stuff, and am
totally ignored and hated for being so forceful and stubborn about
that. I would love to have the talent to be able to put all the
things in my life in some James Patterson/Jesus Christ kind of mix of
a story form, and then make it appear fictional as well, as then; if
I had blogged a fake so-called story of ME from the beginning, I can
only wonder how many people just might have paid a lot more
attention. Now I am not going to fucking lie about one god dam thing
folks. Yes, I want to tell powerful things that I know to all of you
as this is my cosmic job and my stellar duty no less, to do this, but
at the very same time, I feel compelled to also scream out the
injustices done to me and that will go on until the end of time
because of this mother fucking awful and terrible HUNTINGTON CURSE. I
will not pretend for a second that I have not wished and hoped from
the very start of my blogs, that some group might form and band
together, and see what really is behind my incredible plight, and
either in secret, or out in the open; try and assist me in getting it
world recognized, and even possibly have this fucking curse broken
once and for all. The absolute total ways that I have always been,
and will always seemingly be, sanctioned and stopped, from this ever
taking place, by whatever covert means is necessary by the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE; is my GREATEST
PROOF TO MY STORY, OF ALL OTHER POSSIBLE THINGS THAT I COULD EVER
POST, PRODUCE, OR DARE TO WALK INTO A COURT OF LAW WITH, ALL ALONE
WITH NO ONE TO ASSIST ME. Even dummy me knows what a disaster that
one would be. I saw all the 'L&O' television episodes, or
certainly, most of them. I did not even know that show existed until
a few years into this century, and it began in 1990, right after my
visit to the CAMDEN COUNTY PROSECUTOR, where
I met Ron Wirtz, Sr. I do so truly cry at night, oh great
Karen Hurl, for that large bunch, who call themselves 'Born
Again' Christians. These are the most hateful, judgmental,
and down right nasty of the bunch, may Goddess rest their existences.
Any mother fucking person who ever tried to prove my shit to be fake
or wrong, goes totally berserk. They cannot, and I speak of Clarence
Harris, Joseph Paget, and Kieth Forgotisname. WELL, SINCE THIS IS
INDEED, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER #666,
or the sum of 36 first whole numbers, you know, 1+2+3+4...+36, it is
time to do just a little bit of additional talking and elaborating,
nothing will be new; just continuations of all ready numerous brought
up subjects and topics, by me; the Motor-Mouth
MOUNTAINPEN, just not
on that day, huh Ing?
First
off, I am dealing with an adolescent
who is always exactly age sixteen years,
and on top of that, this creator, as all creators must be, just ask
any nurse or doctor in any frikkin hospital anywhere on the dam
planet, FEMALE.
Secondly, any psychiatrist with a degree who is familiar with the
world recognized DSM MIND BIBLES, who dares to read the Old
Testament Bible about three times straight, knows this GODDESS
is totally psychotic, more dangerous than a thousand thermonuclear
wars, more powerful than that as well, by a factor of a hundred
vigintillion +; and is loaded with many bi-polar, and numerous other
psychotic features, that would take all night long to even try and
make a list of them. This is truth, and many will say, you cannot
take the All Mighty, and some man made book about mental illness; and
reverse engineer 'GOD', or try and diagnose this all encompassing,
all mighty ruler. Many, many, or really, I bet just about anyone
alive would say this, or just begin to tremble with fear and walk
away from this entire conversion real dam quickly, you know, Warper
Gramps style, with or without little television sets going off inside
of their brains and other millions of Lambrigg Cult ripoffs. Third
and finally friends and foes, The Hollywood Movie in 2007 right after
my short time BLOGGING, called “MY SUPER
EX GIRLFRIEND” really needs to be rented by anyone
following the words that I blog, as if you don't, you are missing one
hell of a show, one hell of a ride, and one hell of some wild ass dot
frikkin connections, good folks, and THAT'S A PROMISE. There really
is a fourth thing that I was just hoping to sort of squeeze in as a
compiled other three with a wrap up, but have now changed my mind.
That is, that the one religion on this Earth Planet that totally
knows that I am for real, and has even helped me to learn some of the
powerful shit that I learned and without learning it, I would be dead
dogshit twelve times over, and that would be the great and wonderful
MORMON CHURCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now, if
you think they will tell you about this, you believe that you will
win the Powerball Lottery. Hay, nothing is wrong with a dollar and a
dream folks, but don't go planning after you buy the dam ticket, to
be a trillionaire, and go punching your boss out that day. That would
be just plain ass stupid, and would make the Vonage tune on TV all
these years, sound just great and talented, in comparison. THAT 2, IS
ANOTHER PROMISE, from me to any and all of you! All the things I
print, you can, and really should, check out, at your own good time.
I have no right to expect anyone to take my word for truth, when I
print a wild bunch of shit, but much of it is indeed verifiable, yet
you would rather scoff, and call me a fucking space cadet, and THAT,
sir ROCKDROID Roddenberry, is just plain ignorant and
lazy behavior, but hay; who the fuck am I to judge anyone? Jerk offs
like PP, and so many others; are never going to change, or even
bother to fact check much of my tales, but you know what; ladies and
gentlemen, I have no plans to change either, as I know that I am
right, they are wrong; and lotteries exist to give me the ultimate
check mate on my time traveling teacher from long ago, so
hello to you too, and IWALU, but you are on my last nerve right about
now, and you do need to know that, sweetness. I was not lying
about switching to Apple Computers, or Mikey's friend who we will in
this case change a name and call him Larry. Both Larry, and the
brother of Mikey, took a 'Mike Gutherman
attack' right after this was supposed to happen, and
naturally, with an all powerful empire ruler Goddess behind wiping me
out since I've been knee high to a tiny puppy, and yes, time is not
what you all think, and so don't comment here and remind me of the
decade and a half age difference, since that is as meaningless as
whether or not Sarah Jacobson spells HER name with an “H” as
well. One of the secrets of cosmos is the two letters of the
necessary “H” and the necessary “E” in the spelling of the
names of Sara-h, and Stac-ey, as it spells HE, and the best kept
secret in cosmos is to reverse all things, you know, the world is
flat, the sun comes up and goes around and sets, I could go on, AND
ON, so know THAT please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TANKS.
Now
folks, only smart people are going to GET a lot of this, and I really
cannot worry about it. Those who do are meant to, and that too is
COSMIC
LAW, known in many alternate futures, and possibly
ours as well, as LAWTRONICS.
Anyone can go to my YOUTUBE CHANNEL,
and see that I tried very hard, extra hard, to post that shit from
1984 today, and right after I got close, DIANA came over and made
lovely beautiful awesome lightning all around me. I love HER SO MUCH,
and yes, I know who SHE really is, and a very thin line between hate
and love exists, ask any mother fucking psychiatrist, YO. ANY,
YO!!!!!!!!!
If
print all seems to fuck up and slam into each other on a blogging
site where you are reading this, you need to switch and read this
where I can change the type to monster size, and it still will not
block the message, so go to this URL:
W----O----W
if
this is not the age of non Aquarian technology, YO FOLKS,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
But
then there is always the mother fucking TIN
FOIL HAT SYNDROME,
that we just began surface scratching back a few months ago, folks.
You know, I ran into that dude about three or four times total in ten
days or less time, and then ever since then, he totally dropped off
the radar, so is there really a magic vanish button inside of those
hats? Makes us wonder peeps, don't lie to your fucking selves! The
'PC' or Personal
Computer,
has powerful initials, that match powerful shit; such as right off
the top of me' ol' non Australian head, maitees; I can think of some
stuff such as Political Correctness, Professional Careers Institute
where I met the illustrious James T. Burr, in 1973, while graduating
from a Computer Programming Class, held at the One Cherry Hill
Building, in the Cherry Hill Mall, of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, where
I came to live 13 years in the future, when a hell of a lot of wild
things happened, such as writing the song called, “REAL
GOOD GIRL”
and sending it for Copyright Registration, down to Washington-13-600.
Pretty Cool, huh Mike PYT Jackson? So just what does this old
Ellisberg Circle of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, mirror reflector,
really know, some are wondering, just maybe? Well, lettem' wonder,
old pal Ziggy Malyeska. DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEIT. Only the lovely
'KRASSLE' could know about what I did at that shopping circle, in
“REAL
TIME”,
huh Tatatatatom? What gets me is how the EW-BRG-CULT had the brazen
balls to not even make me wonder or scratch one hair out of my poor
old head, when they removed STAR TREK-TNG a while back, and replaced
it with that garbage shit, “SMART GUY” animation; right
after I told the story
about Lieutenant Commander Riker and his fictional experience with a
not yet totally
evolved SARAH KRASSLE 'Q-GIRL',
and drew some Powerfully
Cool
distinctions. Folks, my shit has proved itself true and out in the
open for anyone to GET IT, long long long long fucking ago, and it is
not my problem if you all just wanna' remain an eternal Missourian.
Well, as Christopher Bennett knows, from Cifaloglio, I won't lie to
MYSELF either, it
is MY DAM PROBLEM,
as I had some little ray of hope that the fairytale might work
despite my gender. Reverse things for getting at the truth folks, yes
indeed; but I never said that anything works 100% of the time, and
anyone who does ever tell any of you that, is wasting your time, and
is lying to you with a ferocious passion; and must have agendas and
secrets somewhere, so here is a nice whittle warning from the
Mountainpen, should that little bullshit item ever take place. Now
folks, I will prove to you that I don't fucking lie, and just watch
that cock licking DOW JONES STOCK MARKET shoot up into the fucking
starry ass heavens for the rest of the week, up up up up up and away,
with Wendy's windy beautiful sixties balloon hoaxes, after spilling
the negative fucking cunt beans now. I GOT CUNT LAPPING CREMATED ON
MY NON-QUANTUM ROULETTE SYSTEM BACK ON FUCKING ASS SUNDAY AFTERNOON.
A weekend of sky-filled mother fucking CHEMTRAILS wiped out my
fucking great system. If you are not being persecuted personally, by
the fucking WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
you can use it to make a hell of a nice bunch of mother fucking money
in your spare time, at a fucking casino. I doubt that I'll make a
comeback from this crash, as I lost forty-three units and quit. That
was a serious mother fucking wipe out folks, so go screw the fucking
drum set, YO. Any day where close to half of your last month total
unit profit is eaten away, that by my cunt eating standards, is a
total system collapse. This makes the mother fucking DOW JONES FLY,
and thank the GODDESS that that is not all that is flying and
winning; this is probably saving me from absolute fucking
demolition, and total annihilation, at light fucking speed squared.
Oh how I remember that wonderful program that did in my other
computer, lovely Goddess Scylla. Remember my peeps, cosmos has
secrets, and I am privy to them. 3 and 4 are the most powerful
numbers to this empire ruler, out of any others in the sixth
dimension downward. But YYYYYY, oh great toy stores of bikes, and
trains, and video games, of 1981,
YYYYYYYYYYYYYY???????????????????????? Well folks, the trick is
really quite simple yet totally awesome and powerful, and you need
not yet be given the details of why adding and multiplying the way
that I do in these examples, is of such utter importance, but believe
on face value that it is for now; and do both of us a dam favor, YO.
3+4=7------------------------------(7)
3X4=12
---------------------------(12)
7+12=19
-----------------------------(19)
7X12=84
-----------------------------(84)
DID
SOMEBODY SAY 1984 very recently, oh yes, that was fucking me folks,
or was it Sidney Crown and some rectangular object?
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
There
are a ton of other
things to tell
you all, good
people, but I am tired, and I need to fall into sleep for a while. I
am still scratching peach fuzz off of the iceberg that sank the
fucking Titanic, a hundred years ago, WOW.
We will get into powerful shit later on, proof that this world is in
very very deep fucking dog shit, BRAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION, PEEPS, WHAAAAAA!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXVII
KING
NEBNOOSHOO THE OLD SNEAK
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2296
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
BSNF:
“IF I DON'T GO TO MEXICO, I AM DEAD MEAT”
SBT-DATFILE:
121112.630 TUESDAY SATANIC AFTERNOON
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR/MORIANITY
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
All
was quiet as a church mouse until I spoke on the telephone, and
laughed very softly, right before hanging up. Unless these cock
sucking mother fucking bastard neighbors across the hall from me, had
their ears literally pressed to their doors; they would not have
heard one sound. The second I laughed softly, said good-bye, and hung
up; on went thumping loud stereo music, or stereo
noise to be much more fucking cunt accurate, folks, and
this all happened at just a couple of minutes before three.
I
am going to go all the way, and press charges civilly, for
harassment; against these peeps. I do not think they are being
evicted; another of the many lies and broken fucking promises of the
Mark Mohr and Dave Roth fan-club, since late in 1985, when we met as
retail security officers; at the Woodbury Heights, Caldor Department
Store, #113; while it was being both built, and stocked; before
opening to the public. I may get nowhere, but it should be illegal to
persecute and fuck with people, and make their lives hell; and the
real people that should be behind prison bars, are beyond
reach, as we all know, in this lovely great capitalistic society of
the G-20-New Weird Odor system, as that is just the way it is; and I
do not need any Dawn King's to chime in with their little additional
two cents worth of shit either, good folks.
I
intend to prove that I cannot listen to any radio in this high rise
apartment, way up here 50-70 feet in the air on this 6th
floor. Someone is jamming me with Amplitude Modulation, and this is
how the neighbors are paid off to spy on me, and I do not think they
really are pressing ears to doors. Everything today is done
electronically. If this persists today, I will run my Pedersen
Roachphone Morianity, for the rest of the cock chewing mother fucking
ass day.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC,
all general and coded general (special) orders, all tecks, ZDT &
ADT. All commands, I am maxing out your pull power gain to infinity,
11.8 IPNS, and maxing your other controls against this gain at max
out levels of 11.5 IPNS. On an I-2-D, A/B TONE, phasing punishment
sequencing system, the image-object on your transpower block needs to
be empowered to the max. It is already totally singed and crushed,
and wiped out.
FOLKS,
I HAVE ONLY TAKEN THIS BLOG, WHERE IT TOOK ME,
AND I ONLY DID WHAT PROSECUTOR RON WIRTZ TOLD ME TO DO, IN THE VERY
EARLY NINETEEN FUCKING CUNT NINETIES; SO DON'T HATE ME SO FUCKING
MUCH, OK?
THE
HUNTINGTON CURSE is
very powerful, and is the entire reason THAT
HUMANITY EXISTS RIGHT NOW, and is
why none of fucking you, need to be suffering. It only requires one
of us in this family lineage, in each generation; so you can consider
us as the fucking torch-carriers.
This is really what we do, and nobody is giving us any fucking
choice.
I
do not know why more folks will not go to
the YOUTUBE,
and view all these cool ass fucking videos, and it has
only one possible reason, and that is total fucking AGENT
CONDOR/FALCON COVERT STEALTHY MIND CONTROL
AND MANIPULATION, VIA THE PAWM-PIE-ETTOS,
the mightiest tool in the carpentry box, with or without any vomiting
Karen's in 1983, known on the ASTRAL-PLANE, as the LAMBRIGG CULT TOOL
BOX, literally, as this is what these doppelganger counterparts do to
us poor picked on, and persecuted fucking folks like me, cursed or
not. These are the magical parlor tricks, or some of them, Sheriff
Monks, sir. THANK YOU NYNY, CHANNEL 11, WPIX TELEVISION, OF 1988; for
that fantastic great super documentary called, “UFO,
THE COVER UP”, as it really showed me shit that is all
around me, both THEN as well as
NOW, huh Misses Lottery Marola,
WOW, those cool arguments that the future allowed me to win by
default, again with the WOW, huh Lenny Orbach Briscoe?
Every
day now since late SEPTEMBER of this year has basically
been a SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY for me folks, and you ask me why I
say things like, SCREW FUCKING GOD???????????????????????? You cannot
be that dense, not to feel my cunt lapping agony, and excruciating
fucking pain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I never get what,
agents, did you quote that on that great 1988 show as, “NEVER
HAVING A MOMENT'S PEACE”, GENTLEMEN? And what happened in December
of 1969, June of 1980, and many other times including September of
2012? Gee could it be, those INTERACTIONS
OF EXTRA POWER, WITH THE ALL MIGHTY ALIEN, HERSELF,
AGENTS, YO????????????????????????
I
don't see the world burning all the bibles yet, yet all the other
TERRORISTS ARE BEING HUNTED DOWN AND CAPTURED, TORTURED, AND KILLED.
WHY IS SCYLLA SO DIFFERENT WHEN SHE CLAIMS SHE WILL END OUR WORLD,
AND ALL OF US, BY FIRE, AND MOST LIKELY, QUITE SOON? I AM JUST MILDLY
INTERESTED, AND THIS BLOG SUGGESTS NO ACTIONS WHATSOEVER; BUT I DO
HAVE SOME FREEDON OF FUCKING SPEECH LEFT; OR DO I, SHERIFF MASCARA
SIR????????????????????????
The
forces had a real laugh last night when I posted the blog talking
about the exact spelling of 'KRASSQLE', sorry, you know the “Q”
did not mean to be typed in there, oh shit,
it just struck me right now, I swear to the
gods of the Astral Plane, “QQQQQQQQQQQ”,
Jeese, 'Star Trek number 1 Riker'.
WHAT
ACTUALLY POSTED AFTER THIS, AT BLOGGER AND AT WORDPRESS; WAS THE CUT
AND PASTE, OF THE LONG LIST OF YOUTUBE VIDEO LINKS, THEN THE
COPYRIGHTS THAT I HAVE FROM THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PUBLIC RECORDS,
AND THEN FINALLY, THE JOHN CROWLEY 1979 THIEF STORY; AND THEN I SAID,
AS I WILL SAY NOW,
END
TRANSMISSION:
55555555555555555555555555555555555
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXVIII (0668)
KING
NEBNOOSHOO, THE OLD SNEAK, NOW PUNISHED
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
121112.808 TUESDAY NIGHT AND BOT-X-4
(Worst
cunt lapping death siege in the past lifetime)
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR (BSNF):
JUST
READ THE LARGE FUCKING PRINT ABOVE, YO!
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR/MORIANITY/MOUNTAINPEN URL'S
SWORN
STATEMENT OF TOTAL ABSOLUTE TRUTH
STARTING
THE BLOGGING TRANNY, OLD GRANNY, YO:
I'll
say one mother fucking cock sucking thing about this wild day, as
well as this past four days of hell and death to the power of
fuck-you, and that is thisssssssssss, Erica Snakes Kane,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some few
loyal fans of mine may remember something that I call, “WEIRD-DAY”.
THESE PAST FOUR DAYS ARE ALL ON THAT LIST, and BRO, I know this has
never happened before in my 58 years and one week of cunt tonguing
life, one or two strung together perhaps, but four, no way Josie
girl, no dick licking way,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SLAM, those cunt lappers across the hall will end up sued by me if
they are not evicted and out of here, and this will be further talked
about, but not right this very second, as I have pales and pales of
bigger fucking greedy fish and fishermen, to be frying at this point
in Watergate time, my Senators!!!!!!!!!!!
Lads,
Lassies, Labbers, and Labradors; WOLF, Mark, Allan, and Dick, and
lots more I presume Doctor frikkin Livingston, YO, AKA (L-4); here is
the dam SHITUATION, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson Jenny Johnson
Sex-transformation, and the gods all totally know this is true, as
I've tried the 'temporary-lie-thing', to see if I can cause Wall
Street reactions, but somehow they just always seem to know the real
honest truth, so I learned that I cannot try and bullshit anything, a
very fucking ass long time ago, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes these dirt ball
nabes are really SHOUTING AWAY AND SLAMMING AROUND TONIGHT, and
earlier in the afternoon, were really blasting away on that mother
fucking psychic stereo system of theirs; see the blogs around the
25th
of last September, one or two or three ahead and or behind, it is all
there, for why I call their sound system by that clit chewing
name,
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOW!
Well
people (L-4) and any 'others out here', YO; let us get down to cases
and keep old mobster Louigee happy, before superman knocks him out
back in nineteen fucking fifty seven. First, besides being on this
computer, the rest of the day was playing the non-quantum roulette,
and guess what, and this is the truth that the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
somehow totally knows to be truth, and is pissing them off right now
like a horse with a bee hive up his prick. I won in three games, a
total of 79 mother fucking units, more than making up for Sunday's
major seeming-systems-failure, YO, and no folks, I did not play any
games on Monday at all, so in these two days, my average profit was
around 17 units for each day, more than double of normal
GOOD-DAY-PROFITS, you know, rare ass occasions where no Otammic death
siege is fucking occurring all around me at light speed squared, YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, not
bounced around from town to town, no nothing prophets, no McDonald's
dancing competitions using my music as fish bait, no beaming cars and
peeps to 5133 Oakland, no wild firemen with transdimensional
telephone internet systems, or any of that bizarre fucking horse
shit, and praise the fucking lord, no
1988!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like DUH folks, any Hyundai
cars around here any place, Walter Disney??? Saying super fucking
W----O----W
would not even come close to saying shit here folks; and some know
these truths, a whole hell of a lot more, than other folks do,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shit
juice all mighty, when I get all this told, you will need to be
sitting down folks, and don't worry, I am not gonna' hit you too hard
all in one day or one blog. I tried to send an e-mail to my Property
Manager today, Mizz Debbie Marotto, and eventually sent it
successfully, but only after continuous freeze ups and virus attacks
and black hat cracker hackers, in violation of local, state, and
federal laws; since my e-mail message was official business, and to a
governmental representative, so FBI, please start doing your dam job;
and where really are you hiding these days, old friend, Agent Steve
Caruso of Austin, Texas, USAESMWG and beyond????????????????????????
WHAAAAAAAAAAA! I made another complaint about these sicko twisted
fucking jerk off low life two legged roaches across the fucking 6th
floor hallway from me, on the southwest side of this wonderful and so
wovewee building, Mister Elmer Fwudddd,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, I
sure hope all this is not making my kid and some of her friends spin
around like other Curly's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where
is Superman when we need him and NASA both, huh Mister KENNY ROGERS,
YO??????????????????????????
I
still cannot believe my three games today, and my first game was a
minus 7 units, but that second and third game, WO, unbelievable
folks. I no longer consider the system as having crashed, but I DID
TELL A LOVELY NIGHT LADY OF THE NINETIES, THAT SOMETHING WAS GOING TO
HAPPEN, BECAUSE AS LONG AS THIS FUCKING EVIL
EMPIRE HAS ME TO PERSECUTE AND ENDLESSLY MOTHER FUCKING
HARASS, UP UP UP UP UP UP AND AWAY WILL GO THAT FUCKING DOW JONES
STOCK MARKET, YO; JUST AS I TOLD YOU, MY
LOVELINESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still, don't call the LOVE LINE,
just because you read my blog and your third leg started itching,
yes; Gina was a very tall, super built, picture of physical beauty
and incredible awesomeness, to say the mother fucking total least,
YO!!!!! Oh sweat tea and Pee, won't you dance and drink with me, not
your kind of drinking there, Dawn-Marie? Oh that sand, and those
wonderful hourglasses, and soap operas, of long past; right McDonald
Carey, old buddy? Man did I love that show as a kid,
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now,
here is a powerful shock with no need of any fucking earthquakes.
Call it a Morianityquake
if you want to, YO!!!!! The odds are 81:1 for this to have happened
by simply random fucking ass chance, people, so listen up to this, or
if you are not feeling like a shocker right about now, then maybe the
NEXT BLOG BUTTON is a nice
alternate move for you to make now, as I am sure you will find
interesting shit like perhaps “My life as a Trump Rug” BLOG, or
you can try “Learning the delicacies of maggot preparation
overseas” BLOG, there are some beauts folks, I kid you fucking not.
If you have weaker stomachs, try the “Blogs of Candyman Peter
Before there was a Cosby”, now that one will stand you on your
fucking ass ear if anything ever will, YO. But for those who are
remaining here with MORIANTY, bless and keep you, my brother, and my
sister. Oh, for those trying to contact me from school, and with that
stupid FACEBOOK, I have forgotten my password, and they won't let me
back in. What a world, it makes no sense at all. They even e-mail me
and tell me they are sorry I am having trouble getting on their site.
I am just mildly curious why since around the psychic neighbor stereo
time around the beginning of the autumn, all this just began, but
without being able to access my FACEBOOK account, I am not ignoring
anyone if you are out there reading this, I just can't get to you,
THEY WILL NOT LET ME. You would think this childishness could never
happen, sort of like Adolf Hitler and Germany back in the fucking
nineteen thirties. They see I cannot get on, and all they do is tell
me that they see I cannot get on. I know we all ran, in my day; more
cool and better efficiently run club houses, tree houses, secret
clubs, whatever; with a far greater degree of efficiency and common
sense. We would not just say over and over to each other, gee, there
is a kid out there who does not know the secret knock on the door,
day after day, the kid knocks, and the other kids in the tree house
just sit there saying that same thing, this entire world and this
stupid ass fucking PC shit and their stupid ass fucking internet is
enough to cause all of the psychiatric fucking disorders that have
come to be totally increasing at alarming rates, and seemingly
endlessly exacerbating rates of change. If this nuttiness goes on and
continues even semi linearly, as opposed to the parabolic increases
of the past fifteen or so years now; this entire world will be over
forever, and I can relax then, in dark peace, SHEEEEEEEEIT! Here is
the news that may shock you a little, it of course has to do with
the GAWNUM, as of course, I am not just sitting here for
the past four cunt lapping days, taking all of this fucking ass crap,
without asking my cat, GAWKY GAUKAUK or GAGA
for short, and he will make you fucking go GAGA, and you
CAN believe
that one folks; but I asked two major fucking questions, and received
the very same PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER both times on both queries
made, the first one was, *******************************
WHY
HAVE THE PAST FOUR DAYS BEEN SO WICKEDLY MONSTROUSLY HORRENDOUS FOR
FRIKKIN ME?
******************************
The second query I made, was just for this one today, today, YYYYYY
was this fucking eleventh of December so horrible and super fucking
BOTBAR for me, starting this afternoon shortly before fucking three
ass hole of the clock????????????????????? Both answers were PCN-143,
and of course, real fucking ass MORIANS know, but for those that
don't know, here are the matching items in my book for PCN-143. By
the way, the letter 'M' is in my name, both first and last to haunt
my soul, and in 1983, right US Copyright Office; but the letter 'P'
is also PCN-176, right Mister Mayor and Mister President, back in the
summer time in 2008, YO; with or without any lovely spinning Curly's?
HERE IS THE LIST I HAVE for the 143 #.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER---ADVANCED EXPLORATRON---PUNISHMENT---TRINITRAIL---
M---HADDONWOOD---TAXI DRIVER---MY SUPER EX GIRLFRIEND---ROYAL
PAINS---SONG WRITER--------------------------------------------
The
odds that the same answer would be given to me by GAGA, for both why
this shit against me for just this one day as well as the last four
total days, are 81:1, because there are a total of 81 possible PCN's,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Earthquakes
are coming, major horrible storms, death all over the place, just
keep fucking hurting me forever, you EVIL EVIL FUCKING EMPIRE
WOMO-OTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE!
ENDING
OF THIS TRANNY,
GRANNY!!!!!!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXIX ------ (0669)
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
STARTING
BLOG:
I
will be going offline shortly, and throwing the computer in a
landfill.
I
know I died and went to hell on the 15th day of August of
1986, and no one is kidding me for a minute.
They
have the fucking power to make shit come out backwards, like on my
blog a few back with the word KNOW, it came out WONK, and even my
fucked up mind could not do something that totally fucked the shit
up.
It is right there, I would not edit a correction blog for all the love in the fucking whorehouse. I need shit like this as proof of all of this.
On
top of that, whether put there or not, Commissioner; I am tired of
following these facts to the ultimate conclusion that I could only
have died permanently on that night, and that this is why cock
sucking Carter told me, when I said to him, “I'm dead Mister
President”, he then told me, “I KNOW”, totally confirming and
substantiating any doubts on the issue, and in the matter.
Neighbors
were bad today after a few days not so bad. Even some shouting at six
minutes past midnight, so unless they are evicted, this was just
another big lie told to me, and I'll fucking find all that out, most
likely later today, as it is now in my time zone, about twenty
minutes before one in the cunt lapping morning, on this wonderful and
quite apprehensive and PaulaKing2011 careful, be or not to be day,
Billy Shakespeare; to quote this great dog-roof radio personality, of
good old wonderful and lovely, where else, but
ATLANTIC
SHITTY, NEW
JERKSEY?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
death were only real, I would give anything in this fucking universe
times ten vigintillion googleplex to this exponential power and that
times that again a google times over still. There are maybe ten
persons alive or awake, or whatever you, any of you, wish to call it
or think or relate to it; who know deep down, that we all have been
searching for a way to STOP EXISTING,
endlessly. We cannot. YYYYYYYYYYYY? Well, bikes and trains and video
games all notwithstanding, or any other toys; will never alter some
very basic 'truths' or 'realities', and a very mother fucking
interchangeable two words, by the dam way. So what is this dam
REALITY/TRUTH, I KNOW MANY MUST BE THINKING?, ALONG WITH, 'OH THAT
FUCKED UP MOUNTAINPEN', HE HAS SOME REAL POWERFUL WHOPPER DOOZIES, IN
OR OUT OF THE FUCKING ASS BURGER QUEEN WITH A SEX
TRANSFORMATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, you think that way all you like,
folks; and it will change nothing, whether you are right, or I am
right, and I all ready know totally, who is, and if that sounds a bit
braggadocio, sorry; as it sure fucking ain't meant to be. Bragging
about being in the condition of ETERNAL
HELL, is the quintessential madness or insanity, or
words that would go beyond any dictionary ever, of the waking world
5-D realities. Let me remind the majority of readers, some few may
know or remember, or archived the information, that I now will be
reiterating/re-printing; but I feel it is important at this present
point to do this, as I said, my BLOGS and my YOUTUBE, is about to be
pulled off by me very soon; and I am heading for remote areas of
South America, where I can fucking go and try and die in fucking
peace, even though I never can die,
sounds totally Vonage huh, well it is, so fucking ass sue me, YO!
I
cannot stop or change what I cannot stop or change, that is as simple
as a two fucking year old spitting out some dam baby food. But there
is always more power in the message of those kind of simple ass
statements that most folks just never really GET. Hay, I can't do
anything to help you get any of it, sorry. Sue me again.
I
need to tell about an ongoing disagreement with a very special person
in 1969, an old trick, Sarah and Abraham would not be all that
shocked, especially after Sarah had her baby at around age 100 or
whatever, as the fucking story supposedly goes, Mister Nielsen. The
great educator exploratron, wo Billy Harner, to quote you for a dam
change, you ingrate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hands out
of my moms clothes pocket there, pal. You have Paul to thank for
rating you out by the way, YO. Rock stars, man can I live so totally
wonderfully WITHOUT
allofem!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So about this
continued disagreement with Misses Wonderful Marola and myself in
1969. She insisted on telling me that no matter what in life, if you
are in the real major minority, and this is a paraphrase, her exact
words are lost to my frail human memory, and the 4th
dimension where it is existing inside of, where a lot of years have
moved by below it in one less or 3-D. Aniwho, she said that many
things that I said and believed, put me in this major minority; and
there is no way that I could be the only one right while everyone
else would then have to be wrong. Funny how the 'OH GOD', original
movie, with little Tracy Richards, had this exact shit in their
movie, towards the end; where all the top head shrinkers were talking
in that room, and saying just that; that if she is right, we're all
wrong, you know, sort of like by default. Well, I am not here tonight
to argue a gray area in life, as this as well could be added into
this discussion or argument, or what have you. I knew who was right,
and I also knew this big beautiful woman could pick me up and throw
me clear across the dam school if she wanted to, and kiddingly
bragged about being able to do just that, quite often, to her little
friend, Sir Grant O'Neil, who was madly in love with the 1969 Miss
America, and if she is around still, I'll bet she can confirm a lot
of my fucking shit, peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Aniwho again good peeps, I had this ongoing semi heated debate, to
the point where I would give in, and just think silently to myself,
that I wish I was six foot ten and had a body weight of about 360
pounds of solid muscle. But my fragile little fourteen year old body
was tiny and weak, and I was lucky if six year old's did not totally
break my arms when arm wrestling, and now, I'm lucky if maybe 9 year
old's don't, still; a slightly better deal. I doubt that the great
year predictor, yeah right, predictor; would have knocked me to total
shit, but I wasn't taking a whole lot of fucking chances back then,
BRO!!!!!!!!
The
real proof of my being right all along was not to come until I left
school, and then KAPONG, ZAM, POW, CRUNCH, ADAM BATMAN WEST AND ALL;
along came, NOT YOU from 1983, we just left you; but, along came the
great STATE LOTTERIES, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This was the case prover, but as always, and just as she loves to say
so cleverly throughout ALL ETERNITY in one form or another, TOO
LATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW Ernie Merker, YO. You see, it is the
one person with the exact pick, I mean for example, if the
$500,000,000.00 Power Ball jackpot was given to all the majority with
so many wrong ideas about the lottery outcome, how would the system
be able to be fucking ass funded for crissake, BRAH? No peeps, it is
the one mother fucker who said before the cashier took his
dream-dollar from him, sir/mahm, I would like to pick the numbers 4,
18, 25, 29, 50, and powerball 35. Then home the mother fucker goes
and two days later he or she is watching the television set and the
drawing comes on after the news, and guess what? Misses Marola and
all of the other wrong picking majority, just lost their dream
dollars. But this one major minority picker, he must have done
something fucking right, huh Bruce Pennock, and please don't bust out
my ears with your Mini Rip routine, YO, tanks ol' pal; Jeese
Louise!!!
Yes,
I know some shit, I have that number, not in just one pick of the
draw, but in all of them, dam it, Coach Othershoe Bowerman, of Oregon
University. But, unless it pays out something in the material world,
Misses Marola goes on endlessly winning her magical argument, and you
know what; the material realm is what all of
you live in, and she even admitted why, in another form, a
long time later on. Now James Patterson, thank you for your
generosity with your 25K dollar donation, you are a hell of a nice
guy, and a very talented fiction writer. Me, I cannot write a
paragraph of fiction that is worth ten dam cents, if it would pull my
fucking balls out of a burning bush high up on a big hill. Holy
Moses, where do I dream this shit up, YO? Still, thank you also kind
sir, for some other great things, that just might someday make
someone go, wo, Billy, so let's keep this between you and me, shall
we, old friend?
I
told you all that I would go on later with some discussion of going
from the normal PHASE ONE to the advanced PHASE
THREE level of being an EXPLORATRON,
and I will, right now; just a tad, not a Martin, or a Martino, or
even a Martinez, oh wow, those
wild ass suffixes, YO!!!!!!!!!!
First
off folks, the blog where I recently opened this shit up cannot be
skipped through or ignored, and will keep serious attempting people
busy for a while, I presume, sir Stanley! Also, for those who are
practicing a little bit of it, if any; I will keep my end of the
fucking bargain now, and add some cool shit in right about here, for
you to digest in the privacy of your own 'spirits'.
Lots
of peeps that do have interest in dreams and dreaming, and go to the
point, or at least did in the past, when this so-called new age was
all above ground and acceptable, and not laughed off by the Patty
Jane 001's of the Earth Planet; of purchasing many books written on
the subject of dreams, by extremely famous and successful authors of
the nineties; and tried to do a lot of stuff, and were for the most
part disappointed, because it took time to even see a little bit of
the dam magic work. They saw a little, maybe, and then life moved on,
you know; the Twin Towers, the Gulf War #2, the lies, the horse shit,
the recession, the whole nasty fucking ass mess, speaking of
Stanley's and nightmares out of more than one past that can coexist
because time is not a reality in a higher fucking dimension; but let
us move shit along now, fuck all of that,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When you do anything at all
intentionally, to change the non-waking situation from the noun state
to the verb or the action state, you know, DREAMING
instead of HAVING DREAMS, as though someone is serving
them up to your 'other part of mind', that works when you don't; a
total nonsensical idea from the dam swing bat, if you really dwell
for a while on the Vonage Katiedeeeequlous logic, or lack thereof,
behind that type of a concept, but folks; when you do wish to DO
SOMETHING TO SEE SOME OF THE MAGIC, YOU KNOW, JUST TO GET YOUR DAM
FEET WET; that there is really more than physical life and physical
death, which I assure all of you, that there indeed is; and don't try
to understand how I can be so dam sure. Only if you read my shit over
time, you know that indeed, I AM, and I don't mean that I AM the
great I AM, AKA SARAH KRASSLE, spelled with or without a mind-hacked
typographical maybe-error'd 'Q', YO!
This one additional
secret has been told and mentioned a few times, but the odds that a
lot of folks that follow these blogs, just since it has been the
blogs from November of 2011, that exist apart and separately, from
the other five parts of MORIANITY at the BLOGGER site; let me repeat
a powerful little secret, that sort of dwarfs the famous 2007 other
more world famous, 'SECRET'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whatever
you read and want to try out, forget anything I might tell you at
this point unless you never read anything, so for those, I will tell
you a little magic to try, and you will see some shit that should dam
well blow your frikkin socks off of your feet quite forcefully.
Forget about going to bed and doing squat, just fall asleep, YO. Now
if you are a 3 hour a night sleeper, or a 10 hour a night sleeper; it
does not matter. Just take the normal sleep that you would have had,
should it not be for reading these words; and subtract about 90
minutes, you know, an hour and a half, and set your alarm
accordingly. When you wake up, try to avoid a drink of water or a
quick trip to the piss can, just reset your clock and go back into
bed. You will have 30 seconds to do this before you lose your waking
world awareness, so listen carefully. Know as sure as I am telling
you this, in your mind that this will really happen. Just put
yourself into any daydream you would like to be in, the kind you have
perhaps if you are a naughty older man who works at an office desk
around a lot of really lovely and luscious women of your
grand-daughter's age. Perhaps if a woman is reading this, she might
want to be in the most beautiful garden imaginable, or on a beach all
alone with lovely big ocean swells, and a bright blue sky that would
blind a 'real life' pair of eyes; or maybe you want to be that great
rock star that you dreamed about in school and college, and then got
married, and had kids and now you're just going to wonder what if for
the rest of your natural life; but whoever you are, and whatever you
want; just do it, be there; but know that this is not just some game
or silliness; and what you will now experience will be more real than
anything in the waking world, as long as you believe what I am
saying, and even if you don't totally; it merely will lessen the
otherwise full heightened measure of your upcoming experience, YO!
Telling
this, believe it or not, is like telling a major TRS against the evil
rotten LAMBRIGG CULT, or my WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES, SAME
DIFFERENCE; and only I need to know just why this is so for right
now, but eventually, you most likely, if you're serious about
anything besides reading this blog and mocking the Mountainpen; will
come to know why this is so, and also, come to know a hell of a lot
of other major ass fucking shit, folks. Sorry about my fowl dirty
mouth these days. If things ever get a TAD bit better for me, with
or without AMC, and that is DOUBTFUL
and very honest, folks; my language will frikkin drastically improve,
and as 'MO' said in the movie, “I
PROMISE YOU THAT”!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION:
55555555555555555555555555555555555555
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLXXI (0671)
KING
NEBNOOSHOO THE OLD SNEAK
12-12-12,
THE GODS TAKE FUCKING PITY ON ME
W-----O-----W
do
I have some shit to tell the world, but never fear, I'll keep it
tolerable and somewhat subtle,
yo.
Many
people have heroes, even me, and with me, they used to be and in this
order, Abraham Lincoln, General George Patton, James Earl Carter, and
the other two are just not going to be mentioned for now, but the
list is all scratched off now because, I have but one hero now, and
it is a fictional character, known on Astral circles as a
Phase-Four-Entity (P-4-E). His name is Detective Ed Green, on the
'Law and Order' television show; and there is only one reason for
making this character such a great hero to me, and I will tell you
all the story, and I do believe it has been blogged at least once
before in my 7 year blogging career. Right about now, the United
States Library of the Congress, is having some Cardio
Thrombosis problems, but I'll be 'Paula-Careful', WAYV-FM;
with my chosen selection of wordage here, I promise.
In
2007, after I sent down the last of 28 projects, and in this universe
stuff has been changed, as you can see from the public records, stuff
I sent down to them in 1980 is not there, but it is on the 1981 stuff
so it's protected, and the 1977 version of the tune called, “LOST
LOVE” is not on the record that I have printed for the blog, and is
not there because those records that I got go back only to 1978, as I
believe this information is printed right there on the forms that I
posted recently of my stuff. Still, even with the strange vanishing
1980 stuff from some obvious retrace job of the 'World Laboratories'
that give me a different memory pattern, than the world has that now
exists, or seems to; around me. There is a conversation between an
examiner and myself, that I wish to discuss, and after the usual
long wait for a copyright to be sent, even though as long as you send
the filing fees and applications, without making any errors; the
effective copyright registration date, is when they receive the stuff
in their office; a very beautiful building in Washington, DC, by the
way; but in the summer of 2008, an examiner called me, and wanted to
discuss some things, that at the time ,seemed just like my situation
here at this Public Housing Building,
you know what I mean, as you all have had it happen, so don't bother
denying and lying; not to me or yourselves. I knew something was
off, as though this examiner wanted badly to tell me
something, but could not, because she might
lose her dam job. She wanted to discuss getting rid of a
yellow sheet of paper that I had sent along with the copyright
registration form, but even though the compilation project had dozens
of songs on it, some old, some new; the examiner for no reason, began
discussing the one out of 30 or so tunes, a new one, remade from
older music, with new lyrics; called, “SHE'S
SARAH-STACEY”. I am happy she did not lose her dam
job, but my entire life would be different, if she had chosen to be a
human being, over keeping her dam job,
Detective Green. In that great episode called “Shangrala”,
with powerful, numerous, wild, Dick Wolf stuff; Ed Green also says to
someone who was not all that thrilled to give up some information to
him and Briscoe, and even told Green that he would lose his job, and
I quote MY WONDERFUL HERO, ED GREEN, “SO
YOU LOSE YOUR DAM JOB”!!!!!!
Not
all folks are willing to put what is right, ahead of what is putting
food on their table. This is why my new hero list is what it is,
DAWN-MARIE-KING; and HELL WILL FREEZE FUCKING OVER, before you will
ever be on that list, you ugly old drunkard
maggot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If the world does
not GET IT, then WOW, stay VONAGE STUPID. I am
subtle here, but as many tell me, including old Prosecutor ADA Ronald
Wirtz, of Camden County, New Jersey; the now retired Senior Wirtz
that is, back very early in the fucking nineteen-nineties; “You're
getting your message across loud and clear”, and he was talking
about the JASON FORREST TAPES,
that were stolen out of my friendly Saturn automobile at a not very
fucking FRIENDLY Northeast Philadelphia restaurant, on route One, the
(Roosevelt Boulevard), back in late summer time of 1996, if my
memories are serving me accurately; and without too much interference
from hyperspace, and transdimensional shifting displacements of
SPACE-TIME-MIND, causing memory altering, and other major side
effects!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I say it, you know, WOW,
kind sir, Ron Wirtz Senior, and you thought I would never find her?!
***END
OF THIS BLOGGING TRANSMISSION, YO FOLKS***
No comments:
Post a Comment