SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0329

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0329

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

MAJOR FUCKING HELL, AND

ENDLESS STRING OF FUCKING BOTBAR DAYS

START:

Well people, first off, I am in a hologram that I've not seen since back in fucking jersey or at least my trip from there, down here to fucking sunny and scummy Florida.

First, is a dense thick hologram, and loaded with giant pussies all over, and not kitty cats such as Gawky fucking Gaukauk, YO!

Then more chemtrail siege hit me at my work site starting just at or after two of the clock in the fucking Post Meridian. But the day began as it left off, before this shit even had a chance to cunt lapping launch, back around ten this morning there around. Twice I am in the bath tub trying to relax in a nice icy cold fucking shower, and the maintenance man is back inside my apartment yelling for me to shut down everything. They finally have it all worked out, but the entire day was total fucking hell before I got anywhere near my mother fucking job site and only took tons and loads of additional mother fucking dog shit at the Constant-Squared, great Cuzz Sarah Callio, always with the never ending symbolism of the CS initials, and so many others, folks, Sheeees 4 crissake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fucking cunt gods peeps, WHEN WILL THIS NIGTHTMARE HELL AROUNBD ME END OR JUST BACK THE FUCKING SHIT OFF A LITTLE BIT, JESUS FUCKING GOD ALL FUCKING MIGHTY, YO???????????????????????????????Yeah git bag on the Atlantic City boardwalk that day with Jerry Heitzmann, I'm fucking bad ass too, mother fucker, so come play the fuck with me, ya' fucking jerk off, and watch yourself bleed out, pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As usual, I turned on my computer and began blogging, and jerk off numb nuts next door started with his fucked up music. But talk about this building, I have got to get the fucking hell shit Christ out of here and fast, or they will drive me out of my cunt eating mind, YO. After all the shit with the shower first, I left the apartment, and again, who was waiting for me and sneaking around to make sure that indeed we would all run into each other, but that new mysterious young dick head couple with the baby? Who was with them, MIZZ Daughter Cellphone Ringtone? The only thing missing today, and I am dead fucking serious, would be the landing of a flying fucking saucer, and a bunch of weird looking little fucking space ass aliens. This is why I do not believe in them or that shit about life as we could possibly know and or relate to it as life, anywhere else in this entire fucking cosmos. If they do not come on days like this, for me; believe me mother fuckers; they are totally not coming, and for the good reason that they are not real/e, like you Tommy boy. Now please peeps, do not confuse this talk with my doubting what has been in fact seen, witnessed, documented, and discussed by the great mighty Falcon/Condor Ufology Club, etcetera, and etcetera, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me explain just a tad here, Martino Allmykids, gulp, gulp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I do, I want to amend some shit from near previously written blogging texts. First, I said 19 years, and the key number one and key number two as you all know, are right together, I meant it to read 29 years, so go back and shit makes more sense when we add 29 and 1967, to equal Cousin Sandy's stay at the Trinidad Hotel until my song called SARAH was written. We are all human, ask either Bruce, or my daughter. Nobody is mother fucking perfect around here, so sorry Ambassador Slantyeye. I also want to add this whittle insertion here, Mister Elmer Fwudd and the Warner Wabbit fwolks; WHAAAAAAAAAAA; and that is this, DUH, at any impressed colors of Ann King and Lenny Briscoe.

My daughters' more close in 'relative' stopped into the Harvest today and actually walked into the rear area where ass with most grocery stores and really any stores, this is for employees only, remember as children how we would be shopping with our parents, and see that famous sign on store doors all the time, “Employees Only”. I will give no details, I cannot, merely that yes, of course your mood swings are part of your wild and fantastic personality. I wonder if that flip side cassette, has any of my pre-Woodlyn, NJ, 1700 Woodlyn Avenue, Jekyll and Hyde recordings, HA-HA-HA, NEW SHOES, and MASONS, you had this all worked out from thousands of years ago, I knew that and did not need to hear it today from certain 'folks'. I was told that I needed to remember what happened right before the first knock came on my door this very morning at 601 Lenny McKinnon and Avenues “B”, when I was told to take my bath, as this story has not started to be told yet, get a cup of Joe in your hand or whatever, and get into a nice mother fucking easy or comfy chair, I think this poor 'crazy' invented these two terms, but will never be able to freaking MOVCOM prove it of course, so turn down that phone heater, as I may end up living in that Boston fucking Hotel someday, BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Sure as shit all mighty, instantly, I remembered that I was in a strange unknown house, in a parallel universe naturally; and was being accused of causing a gigantic infestation of some very strange and unknown insects. For those who are far behind and slow to warm up, Oprah, crissake, I thought I'd fucking pass out right there in the fucking ass warehouse at that point, and actually took hold of a stack of piled up boxes to brace my lightheaded poor pathetic little self. Many peeps relate to how “DREAMS” tend to do this with them as well, you know, fool with words, like DUH. Let me go back now to Pearl Harbor Day of the year 1996, and play a really cool game with an extremely delicious ravishing young teenager named Sarah Krassle, called, “GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”. 'GUESS', and 'GUEST', yeah right, MI GREAT ALL MIGHTY EMPIRE RULING GAME PLAYER. This fucking shit is told repeatedly and in vivid detail on many many many of my fucking blogs from 2006, 2007, and even into the beginning of all of what this was supposed to lead into, Sabrina Collins, 2008. Oh you lovely long curly haired special teen you; don't ever think I'll forget that pipe you ran across, or that wonderful message that you left for me. How I agonize over taking the shit all down off of the You tube when I realized that my ignorance about working computers and internet, was causing me to pile up many fake views on the songs, so I tried re-posting it up to clear the count back to zero, thinking that I would never lose your lovely words. Oh how stupid can they make us shoelace problem genius math children? That story about the shoelaces folks is total bullshit, but yes, peeps like Al and me do in fact have trouble remembering how to do certain tasks that a child thinks nothing of such as working the e-mail on a computer. It must be the way our fucked up crazy brains our wired, and Jesus man, we should be better understood, not treated like fucking pig shit by folks all our dam ass lives, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to the fucking insect dream, or should I say my major nightmare in mother fucking ass hyperspace, YO. My own mother called me a liar and would not believe that I had done nothing wrong. She said to me that I need to make restitution and pay for the damage caused to the home owner, and when I got on my knees and swore before her god that I did nothing wrong, she grabbed a hose that seemed to be on the wall, and squished the silver clip part that makes water shoot out really thin and hard, and she fucking blasted my ass with a shower that I won't soon cock sucking forget, it was the most horrible experience I ever had, and was painful as well. The water seemed to be boiling hot. Now, this person who appeared at my job, and in an area off bounds without being an employee; made me remember an entire experience that my conscious mind had put out of itself totally and fucking completely, from the second I woke up to a banging knock on my door. This knock was the maintenance man telling me to run my bath water, and I asked him will I be OK to do this now, and he said to me, absolutely, only when I did, as I stated earlier on this blog, the next thing that I fucking knew five minutes or so later, while again, I lay naked and exposed in my bath tub, was this idiot maintenance man inside my apartment, AGAIN, screaming for me to shut the dam water off, and it wasn't even running, anymore than it was yesterday, both times, the tub was totally filled all ready,m and then BOOM,all of fucking ass hell breaks mother fucking ass loose, YO. Let me ask this world something, I mean in all fucking ass honesty? Could your great hero James Patterson even start to make up so much endless fucking shit, this fucking good. By calling me a story writer or a deluded whack job, you are all clueless how it pays me the ultimate fucking literary compliment, because you are telling me that I am better than the mighty KALI DREAM-WORKS or Patterson, or any of these peeps. As much as I hate being disbelieved mother fuckers, I still must dearly THANK YOU ALL, for this great pat on my back, still, no hickeys please. This entire thing no matter how we slice it up and tote it around, comes back as one totally over the radar PAIN IN MY ROYAL FUYCKING ASS, MI FRIENDS AND FIENDS OUT HERE, it is getting stale, old, and quite fucking annoying and boring, Frank Callio and Robert McGuire, and let us never forget the dude who was too scared to land his own chopper onto his own fucking rooftop, with or without a lot of mean ass barking Jess-Dogs on NNNNNorth CCCCCarolina Avenue in Atlantic Shitty City, New Jitty, Jersey, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give this a rest, you dam time traveler ding-head, will-ya????????????????? You seemed to know me years and years before I even knew squat about this shit, back at the time I was at Haddonwood Swim and Health Club with Tony Antimatter. So is this mother fucker some wild exploratron who is so powerful, he taught his dam wife how to do shit, and then she comes and joins the Callio Gang in 1967, all ready knowing that the fucking ass Shaw of Iran had it all previously mapped and planned out with his very good abnd dear friend, my aunt Geraldine snow Mason? You know, my “Uncle” Heinz Gottwald had respect for only one person in my fucked up God Dam It Bruce HUNTINGTON non-synthesized shit eating family, and that was you, AUNTIE, anti, hell even spell checker is ahead of things, as when I typed this group of words, if Ida hit the ENTER button, watch, let me show you by doing it now, antimatter, like fucking cunt DERRRRRRRR, like DUHHHHH!!

My dream-life, to use your forward-mortal language words folks, recently; is really growing in major ass leaps and bounds. Still, one minute my mom is hosing me to death and telling me I'm responsible for shit that pertains to property damage that I do not own, and the next minute, a knock on the door in this parallel universe comes, and it is all about water and damage, and the way I got treated, it was like it was all my fucking ass fault. Hells bells mother fuckers, all I did was come home hot and tired from a hard days' work yesterday to take a cold bath as I normally do, and the entire fucking universe spun around and kicked me right smack ass dab in the thrill rocks. Jesus fucking Christ have cunt lapping mercy on me, YO!

Yes peeps, hoards of giant slutty girls are everywhere, huge crowds are all over the place and in stores I needed to go to buy a few needed items, it is as if this entire world has fucking turned upside down, inside out, and 657-123, and I know it was you who called, so tell Lenny K, the Philadelphia code was well received, and I need to talk to him, please MI,m please tell him this, he warned me not to get hypnotized in the Haddonwood closing down days back at Saint Barnabas? What made you go from a counselor to a rapper, YO? You need to hear Darius Evans dude, he is too much, and I hate rap music, so if I say something about it, you know you godda' wonder. Also, I was not shocked by other negative events of the day, and was told it would happen, and not to act shocked when it does, but just to try and sit there wearing a good poker face, oh well, I wonder just which one? Should I wear the poker face with the five of hearts and the four aces, or the Mickey-Dee one, with the six of hearts and four queens; shit; does the six represent how 4 queens magically do a Harry Potter, and turn into the great Astral Plane counterpart of the Callio Girl Gang of the nineteen-sixties called the Quoddy-Mockers, only known in the Capitol Province Olympia, as the 'VIQUEENS'?

Long Story Short (LSS) folks, this visitation from %@#*^%*(%@ lasted all but five minutes or so, but a lot of information was told to me, right down to just exactly what the 'Earl Lee' 2009 Hammonton, New Jersey mail-count was all about. Yes some television commercials are funny and even great, while good old dirt hole slime scum Geico Insurance, makes one stupid fucking dorky butt wipe add after another, each one being worse and stupider than the last. You mother fuckers can all suck my fucking fat throbbing prick, YOU SUCK DUDES, AND YOUR INSURANCE SUCKS 2. Even Spell-Checker does not want to recognize you and your stupid ass ads, referring me to that ugly fucking lizard that I love to squish into shit when one gets into my living space. If you don't help pay the rent, you can leave, via the ASTRAL PLANE, mother fuckers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2012 HAS BEEN THE MOST HORRIBLE MOTHER FUCKING YEAR OF MY ENTIRE MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING JERKED OFF LIFE, FOLKS. I kid you not ladies and gentleman, I would have no Earthly fucking reason to lie about this or kid any of you, YO. Any mother fucking day now, I'll be pract5ically fucking GANG-RAPED by gorgeous young giant fucking pussies, and one of them will have the choice of marrying me or spending a lot of years in jail. No more Roseann Delaney shit for me, you bite, I don't lose a daughter out of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I knew if I fucking posted my 3/4 Roulette crap, I'd get heavily messed with and totally fucked to death, and sure enough peeps, I FREAKING ASS DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is power to this system, and I urge hackers who have the brains to use it, to wipe out the entire game, just do something to make a mark on this planet of SATAN, ruled by SATAN, owned by SATAN. I won't venture to guess what new deal has been made 2000 years after the fact, but when it comes to EXPLORATRONS running around with personal agendas, now we get cover-ups, unexplained UFO events, and all the other mess we're all in now, Stan.

Yes, Titan bosses with ugly cars and choppers, we know this ENDS HERE!!!!!

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0328

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0328

4:08 PM-EST, MONDAY AFTERNOON

JANUARY 30, 2012

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“SATAN IS RELELNTLESSLY ATTACKING MY SOUL”

BEGINNING:

I am going through continuous constant unrelenting mother fucking cunt eating hellfire, my peeps. It just won't fucking stop. SATAN will not stop fucking with me. It began at a time, too perfectly timed beyond any chance of it being coincidental, at least in my opinion, and Michelle Daniels may have hated my fucking guts back at the studio in 1980, but she did entitle me to my fucking opinion, may the freaking gods bless her wonderful twisted fucking heart.

I broke my stones at my job today, Florida is hot here on the southeastern coast, and all day, as though this bitch was reading my fucking mind, all I wanted to do was to get home and take an icy cold fucking bath. But the minute I tried to do this, hollering and banging was all over, and within a minute or so, maintenance men were right in my mother fucking apartment, telling me there is a leak and I need to shut the water off in the fucking bathroom. There went my nice enjoyment that I had been looking so fucking forward to, all fucking day long. It is not that I'm not willing to work hard and plant seeds, but POPE, this reap and sow thing, I personally can and WILL attest to, is THE BIGGEST CROCK OF FUCKING BULLSHIT ON THIS PLANET. WHJAT BOTHERS ME MORE THAN ALL OF THIS FUCKING COW-CRAPM ALL COMBINED AND QUANTUM JUMPED, is that peeps look at one isolated shit eating thing with me, such as this event, and go, “Oh poor you, you little jerk off complaining baby”, never even trying to understand that this goes on with me in my fucked up cursed fucking life, 24/7/365/2422, no break, no bad boys, no white boys, and no cops!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST E$NDLESS FGUCKING HELL, and I have decided to go get my meds tomorrow, take a major sup-er fucking overdose, and hope for the fucking best. I hope for your sake, PP things all work out for you. You deserve it man, you've gone through some shit yourself, and especially after coming into mother fucking contact with this putrid cursed HUNTINGTON FAMILY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll be god dam dead by tomorrow late afternoon, I just cannot stand any more. I am harassed day and night by creditors, I have judgments against me as a result, and none of this would have happened if not for that horrible Dawn and Ann and the rest of this total twistedness. I was managing my bills and credit until they forced me in to living with them, and took over my entire life and world, ruining my credit forever, when ?i had just worked so fucking cunt hard to get it good again and was on my way to straightening it out after my declaring a huge 340 thousand dollar chapter seven bankruptcy in the summer time of 2005. I plant all good seeds, and THE BIBLE IS NOTHING BUT ONE HUGE FUCKING LIE FOR ME, IT ALWAYS WAS, AND ALWAYS FUCKING WILL BE. It says to sow good seeds and try hard and be good to people, and life will take care of itself, and all life ever has been as a result of my trying so very hard, for me; is beyond total fucking shit cubed. As I speak, my dirt bag stereo neighbor is starting to blare away at me, ANOTHER ATTACK FROM SATAN, HIS FUCKED UP KINGDOM, AND HIS FUCKED UP ASS WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What amazes me is the lack of CHEMTRAILS. It is as if the enemy has only so much energy that it can expend against me, and today this energy was needed to do other fucking things.

One thing is for sure, I'll be better fucking off dead, and by tomorrow night, it will be curtains for fucking me, good riddance you sick evil ass world.

Things worsened for me after meeting my daughter in Manhattan in early August in 1986. I am talking big time times the cube of infinity. Then they worsened again after the Carlisle trip, the hypnosis, and the search to find SSJKK, ten years later, then less than twelve years after that, my ship was sunk forever in 2008. Paula king had not meant for me to last and survive past that point, the trouble was that I did, for another four mother fucking years nearly. Still there was one final worsening of shit for fucking me folks, and I know beyond the shit hole shadow of a trillion trillion trillion mother-fucking doubts, that I am not imagining any of this, or the precise timing of it either. This was when last autumn, my favorite time traveler, Archie; decided that he could do no wrong. I was not the one cheating, you were, yet I get the fucking penalty. You really gotta' love this mother fucking HUNTINGTON CURSE FOLKS, RIGHT????????? Right after dogs being sent to their Harry Potter houses for sorting or whatever; things really changed for me. I was relatively OK here at this PA Building at 7^th and B here in fort fucking Hotpierce, Florida, USAESMWG, and I hgad no real complaints about the building. It all began with a strange woman who sort of resembles that lovely woman that was on the old “Style” Network a lot in the middle of the past decade, I believe her name was CEECEE, in any event, it is not her, just a look-alike, and she would make a point of getting onto an elevator when she saw me out of her window obviously in the parking lot and coming from my car towards the building, and she timed it so we would meet at the lobby area, and then she had someone call her on her cellphone, and the ring-tone was different things that my daughter had done through the years. She would smirk and me and not say a word. Before this, she was friendly, and we always exchanged a pleasant hello greeting, but that all seemed to abruptly change after the dog-house days. Then it was one thing after another, and I knew it was beyond any possible chance of me imagining fucking ass shit peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Opn top of this, I also distinctly tremember atrounbd this exact time, saying something on as blog about how I hate peeps who sing along to music played in public places, as unless you have real talent, and even then; who needs to9 hear it? I posted my blog and went to my local Winn Dixie Food Store, and some young and very tall woman, brushed into me, and began singing quite loud, along with the muzak system playing on their loud speaker system. Many things started just getting worse and worse and worse, and one way to know when I get some small break or when real horrendous shit is starting up around me again, is my blogging fucking swearing vocabulary. I need to vent, and if this offends, sorry, but I cannot deal with this fucking shit, try and understand that someone or some Shitner/Shatner fucking thing, is making a total fucking career out of making me totally fucking miserable, every single mother fucking day of my cock sucking pathetic life. How would you like this to be happening to you, or to somebody that you fucking love and adore, YO? Believe me, you would watch closely, see it is not imagined, and then end up in prison for killing some people, believe me, don't fucking believe me, that's your right and entitlement, but I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, MAYBE NOT “THAT”, BUT AT LEAST FUCKING *****WHAT*****.

I ran into a spurious couple a week ago that I totally felt did not belong here. They were dressed like fucking ass millionaires, and were acting suspicious, and whispering around and making me feel extremely fucking uncomfortable throughout an entire slow elevator ride down from my floor to the lobby, so that I could exit the building, and drive my car to work last Monday. So I was not taking any chances this Monday, and decided to walk down my staircase and out the door and to my car. It is like some force MUST give me an exact amount of punishment and pummeling siege at a particular location at a certain day or time or date or whatever, because I get home today, and try to take a nice icy bath, and the rest, as you well know, is fucking ass history, folks.

Since the world and Satan won't get the fuck off of me, fine, let me let them know that I broke the Roulette code, and was indeed given the magical key into the game, by the mighty wonderful and extremely gorgeous sandbar queen of the Astral Plane, Mariloo carpenter. I will not tell exactly how many paper plays need to be waited for before actual play is signaled, nor will I go into details so that any Joe Shmo can get rich playing casino Roulette, and forcing the game to shut down, but I will say it subtly enough to show the world forces and owners such as BC and all other secret societies and other enemies of the Mountainpen; just how powerful, awesome, and totally fucking real this shit really fucking is, YO.

I mentioned in an earlier blog that the numbers most important to cosmos will always be, for cosmic reasons, number 3 and number 4. I am not tryuing tio manipulate lottery outcomes, but it is interesting how lately the Florida 3 and 4 picks, indeed are doing some strange things, such as for just one example, last night's PICK-4 Florida Lottery winning number was 3666, and my blog a number of hours earlier mentioned that if you add numbers one through 36 up together, you will arrive at the name-number of Satan the devil, to use precise scriptural language, number 666. I have been watching some real interesting shit for months now with my local lottery, with the pick-3 and the pick-4, again, 3 & 4. As for the roulette system, it utilized the powerful truth about numbers 3 and 4 being of such absolute utter importance to cosmos. Whether it be the 50/50 outside betting on any of the six possible things, RED, BLACK, ODD, EVEN, LOW, HIGH; keep track of all strings in the particular one of these six things known as “OUTSIDE BETS”. You can play them all, or a few, or only one, but it would be suggested to monitor only one or two at first until you get good at this because a small amount of math work in in fact required and needed to properly perform the task of operating this system successfully. Let me reiterate here; the main thing here, is whether STRINGS or groupings such as RRRRRRR or EEEEEEE, for (RED) or (EVEN) and so forth; are grouping as 4 or more strings when averaged, or under four, being 3. This break of either 3 or 4 is the pivotal key to this systems operation. This system is © Copyright protected as my intellectual property, and its name is also ® trademarked, you will find the name on a previous blog. You only need be concerned with strings of 3 or more, no single or double events matter one bit. All 3+ events are called a string. You need to keep track of two things as far as this is now concerned. I will do an example to illustrate what I say, but first let me verbally explain this. After so many non-green outcomes or numbers that come out at a roulette wheel that range somewhere between number-1 and number-36, a game is then signaled into play. If you are playing the RED-BETS, and you now have one string of three, four strings of four, two strings of five, and one string of seven, again, not counting double or single outcome of RED, you total up the amount of the strings, which here would be 1+4+2+1. You have a total of 8 strings of 3 or more. Now what is your total event of RED when all strings add up together into a sum? Well to make it easier through visualization, here was your play-event, with any possible green house numbers omitted for easier viewing.

RBBBRBBRBBRRBRRBBRRRBBBRRRRRRRBBBBBRRRRRBBBBBRRBBBBBBBBRRRRBBBRRBBBRBRBRBRRRRRBBBBRRRRBBRRRRBBBRRRRBRBBRBBRBBRRBBRRRR.

This is in no particular order, but at the end of this event, we do have the one string of three, the one string of seven, the two strings of five, and the four strings of four. Since the order is not allowing an easy way to just know what is needed, we keep track from the start of the RED EVENT. We need to be concerned with two numbers, and then we divided one by the other, and as long as the answer or the quotient as it is named mathematically, remains under a value of (4), we bet a certain way, believing the odds are quite high against getting many more strings of 6 or more, that will cause players to lose. The object is to wait for a string of three, and then bet on the opposite event, so with the RED-EVENT, this means you are always placing bets on black, and you double your bet up to two times, and then should you lose on the three bets made that results from a 6-string, you stop and begin at normal bet amount when it is time again to do so. Just ignore losses that come from house edge or what is termed, house-VIG. If you are betting the base bet of five dollars, your three bets are 5-10-20. When you win, that ends the particular play you are betting. Resume back to 5 when new bet is signaled. Stop at any 20 loss. The way this equation works, is that you first take all of the total RED sum that these 3+strings generate, in this case, 1 X 3, + 4 X 4, + 2 X 5, + 1 X 7. This is 3+16+10+7, and this = 36. This then is divided by the total amount of your 3+strings, so looking at the figures above, the numbers added together on the right side of the multiplication sign, becomes your top number or divisor, while the numbers added together on the left side of the multiplication sign, becomes your bottom number or dividend. If you think this is correct, YOU ARE WRONG. Examine this again. Only the left side digits are added together to create the dividend or bottom number. Your top number or divisor is the full equation just as it reads here. This is one times three, plus four times four, plus two times five, plus one times seven. This is your divisor, or number 36. Now your dividend or bottom number is the sum total of the left digits, so this would be, one plus four plus two plus one, the real total amount of strings that contain 3 or more of the same event, in this case RED-RED-RED. Now adding up this 1+4+2+1=8, your dividend bottom number. So 36 divided by 8 equals more than a 4, without even using a paper and pen, because eight fours are thirty two, right off the bat. Now unless the Q<4 is signaled after so many 1-36 number event outcomes are played out, there is no betting done on that particular one of six possible outside events, or no betting on the RED-EVENT by placing black-bets of 1-2-4. This is because, the game probability is moving at odds not favorable for the fewest possible six or more stringed outcomes to occur after you would begin playing and placing bets. You can always chart along and eventually, things can change. But when you get nice low Q<4 numbers signaled, after a particular amount of spins at a wheel; the odds are greatly in the favor of a player making a series of 3 double up bets against the string's continuation. Another way of playing, is that when the Q>4 (that is greater than, not lesser than), you can use a flat bet system of waiting for a string of three such as RRR, and making one following bet of R or RED, because the odds favor the player betting that more four or higher strings will come out, after betting begins at a Q>4 game table; than will the 3 and under strings. Never make more than one follow-bet, if it loses due to a three-string event, take the loss and move on. Again, as with playing this based on quotients under or over the magical number of ****4****, when losses are incurred due to house hits, or the 0 and 00 coming out, just ignore the loss, and make your regular bets. Most of your games will win, and by adding in the gaming and home bankroll equations talked about in many past blogs, you cannot lose.

I will tell more powerful shit if this doesn't stop, evil world. Leave me alone Apollo-Lucifer-666, you scum bag!!!!!! Diana, can't you put a non chewable muzzle on that twin freaking brother of yours, sweet honey cakes? The gods, I miss you so freaking much, my beautiful lightning. Come to me tonight, be all over your little boy, my tall luscious baby blond.

Well, time to eat my dinner and watch some freaking “Law & Order” on the old boob tube.

Bye-Bye folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA.

END:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0327

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0327

WORLD LABS DATFILE:

CH-0327-012812.909

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

© 2006-2012

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AMD ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“8 MOTHER FUCKING DAYS OF CHEMTRAIL SIEGE”

W-H-E-R-E----I-S---T-H-E---Y-O-U**T-U-B-E

S-K-Y---W-I-T-N-E-S-S, A-N-D---O-T-H-E-R---V-I-D-E-O

C-A-M---W-A-T-C-H-E-R-S, Y-O-U---N-E-E-D---T-O

G-E-T---T-O---F-O-R-T---P-I-E-R-C-E---F-L-O-R-I-D-A, **YO**.

START BLOG:

Well peeps, it was last Saturday that my blogs told How some nasty vicious TIMETUBES were all around and menacing, while out with my computer guru, Meagan. Since then, it has continued from this past Saturday, and with this Saturday, making this an eight mother fucking day death siege by sky that is persisting in its absolute and unrelenting pummeling of this Southeastern-Central Florida, area, here in the USAESMWG. Count the eight days for yourself, old late pal John Lennon, as soon for us both, ITS GONNA' B2 FRERAKING ASS LATE, CHOKE-CHOKE-CHOKE.

SATURDAY

SUNDAY

MONDAY

TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

FRIDAY

SATURDAY----------------------DUH FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why major fucking PUSSY-COMMAND has not kicked in, is anybody's guess, but it cannot be procrastinated nor prolonged endlessly. Eventually, things will break, and some gorgeous breath taking young giant goddess is gonna' start climbing all over me, this is not bragging, I merely tell what parallel truths, have indeed been on going around me since the eighties ended, and I began noticing that girls were attracted by me in supernatural and rationality-defying degrees. The only problem so far is that every single time this happens and goddesses do in fact come on to me, literally throwing themselves at me; I run away, don't I; MIZZ ZENKISS-1970-HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY? Where the fuck are you when I need you, DAVID LEIGH SMITH, of the great of New Jersey historic town of king George, highways and highway robbery taxes and all, YO?

Now we have some bigger problems, if imagining this is remotely possible to do folks; than the chemtrails/timetubes. Think of Clark Kent and Superman when I say CHEMTRAILS/TIMETUBES. As time and more blogs follow, I will get real non subtly specific as to just what I am talking about, but the blog tonight is gonna; get that way on some mother more pressing matters that have to fucking do with right now and the very near term time circa.

I went to bed around ten in the morning on Friday, as remember, Friday is an off day with my working schedule; and slept about 3.5 hours, waking up with a bang that noise had nothing to do with. This was a very unpleasant sleep that led me to not remember too much about the events of the day yesterday, other than doing a blog that I have no memory of doing, and also, why I said some of those things, totally eludes me. I have no idea why Haddonwood closed down, and it almost seems as if some body snatcher tried to demonically possess me and take me over, or maybe the more apt word would be, I was overtaken by asn exploratron, and the one who comes most to mind for me is good old Paula Belinda King, of Atlantic mother fucking City, in New cunt lapping Jersey, peeps. I want, no scratch the word want, I feel the total freaking need, I mean I am 100% compelled to tell you this powerful DREAMINGH INTERACTION that took place somewhere late and towards the final period of these three and a half hours of a very light and uneasy sleep, yesterday. I was standing on Pierce Avenue in Camden, New Jersey, about four blocks north of the sound recording studio where I was employed from late July of 1979 through middle March of 1981, and the house in front of me was beige color, and it was around early afternoon in the late springtime of this year, in 2012. I remember hearing two peeps walking down the street and mentioning how they thought something, I forget now what it was, was going to happen in the neighborhood by this time in May of 2012. The sun was warm and very bright, there was not a puff of cloud material, or jet crap, in the sky at first, and then out of nowhere, dozens of these jets were up there and altering the sky, and filling it up in just a few quick minutes with horrible frightening ugly chemical jet vapor trails, AKA folks, as (CHEMTRAILS). The fear in the DREAMING EXPERIENCE was beyond any fear that I have known while in this universe/reality where I now appear to be awake abnd typing this blog, and some physicists call it, this particular atomic signature in hyperspace. Suddenly I realized that I was not alone, but that several peeps were with me at this place. We remained outside on the sidewalk, a few cars passing by but not often, like it was a holiday or the road was semi-closed, as I remember Pierce Avenue from my employment days at the RPL recording studio, and traffic may not have been highway-like, but it was not conducive for a lot of tiny children to be playing Hopscotch Games in it either.

I'll get back to this, I had to shut down and deal with a satellite death attack on my health, or a TIMETUBE ATTACK, I do not know exactly which does what and when, nor do I have clue point oh one as to why, only that I'm suffering through this horrendous deplorable unconscionable monstrous fucking attack at the hands of this twisted fucking diseased MILI-2-FORCE-WOMO BOHEMIAN DIRT BAGS WITH EGOS LARGER THAN THE MWG TIMES TEN TO 55TH EXPONENT. So now that the major diarrhea attack is over, and I'm back at my computer doing this word-dock, at 957 millidays, or just past eleven at night, on the great southeastern coast of the continental United States; let me resume telling the blog-world of cybentities Poor Richard Franklin of post 1790; great lovely sun-rooms, and all other such things notwithstanding; and we left off, or really, I did; with the house on Pierce Avenue about four blocks north of the recording studio where I was employed as a Sound engineer, or really a Tape-Duplicator, but if dudes who pick up maggot filled bags of stench all morning can be Sanitation engineers, then this indeed opens up the door for permitting me this title, and may I brag that the best sound man in the entire RIAA taught me well, and I have been complimented by industry giants throughout the years on my ability to record sound, especially with bargain basement apparatus, compared with what most of them have to work with, but back on point here, YO; and I came to realize in this powerful dreaming-interaction or hyperspace-travel with all of my memories in tact; that several other folks were with me there. None of us belonged in or to the house, yet we were there, outside of it and off of the property, legally standing on the sidewalk as well as out in the street, switching back and forth. Suddenly, a person exited who looked familiar, but the dream-memory is too shady for an accurate descriptive recall, but this was a middle aged man who was fairly nicely dressed for a home in the hoods of Camden, New Jersey, and he placed three open reel tapes on top of the garbage can that belonged to the home, outside in-between the sidewalk and the street, where cans in cities and towns normally are indeed placed. As we approached the garbage can, myself and two or three other peeps; the name “Robert Carey” was clearly printed in large bold letters on stickers, on each of these three open-reel tapes, with size 7 reels, as there are the 3, the 5, the 7, and the 12, if memory from the early eighties is serving me at all here, with accuracy. I took these tapes and placed them into some type of an upper shelve in the backpack that was worn by one of the peeps who was with me. It seems now looking back on it, that we were all sort of waiting for this man to put these three tapes there, abnd then we were right there and ready to grab them and get out of there. As we began walking down the street in a totally different direction, and turning off Pierce and onto one of the intersecting roads heading east towards Federal Street, not that far from where I used to fly small rockets in the local park with old John Henningsen back in the middle-late nineteen-sixties. However, the only thing flying here, were those horrific high air jets, spewing out gobs and gobs of countless curvy and linear messy filthy CHEMTRAILS. If you are stumbling onto this blog and do not know what is being referred to, you need to GOOGLE this up, as well as go up on the YOU-TUBE site, and search this topic, it is all over everywhere, just about matching the chemtrails themselves now, pound for pound and buck for buck. If nothing else since late 1987, at least I got this world talking and watching and wondering. So anyway, in this incredible wild dreaming-interaction in a parallel universe where my awake body was here in my bed, and my dream-body was free to explore the hyperspace; this chemtrailing gr4ew worse and worse, you could actually physically feel the oppressive force of so many of these concentrated jet trails being literally pumped all around us as fast as the speed of light or so it sure appeared to us who were having this outlandish ass experience. Then one of the jets did something never ever tried to my knowledge in this universe where my physical body is awake and typing this message to any interested parties. It had some way of directing these trails at a high speed. They all began to fly around, some merging, others splitting up, and they were dancing almost as if to some party music beat. I was losing my sanity, and fell to the ground crying like a baby. Then I could barely breath, and began coughing uncontrollably, where you cannot fully intake a new breath before you need to cough out the poisons again, sounding like someone with that old disease rarely heard about any longer, by the name of Whooping Cough. Shortly around the time that my mother had her abduction and memory loss experience in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in the early nineteen-nineties, she was on a bus that went from where we lived in New Jersey, to where she worked in an office over in Philadelphia; and she told me and described in great detail, how she had experienced this very same frightening breath taking series of cough-attacks. I have been getting them in the 21^st century as well, as a result of all of these poisonous vapor CHEMTRAILS. DO ANY OF YOU GET THIS, PLEASE COMMENT??? We need to take this to the fucking AMA folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now getting back to telling the 'dream', after we all got perhaps a five minute walk away from the house where it seemed to all start, and the sky was literally racing around with deadly fumes and horizon to horizon trailing, at almost a time-lapsed photographic speed, and when I was able to stand up and stop coughing, I noticed that my friends around me were all dead, and maggots were all ready eating them up. I began at this point to totally lose it, and uncontrollably jumped up and down like the folks on the PRICE IS RIGHT television show, only instead of in happiness, I was screaming at the top of my lungs about injustice, criminality, murderers, and half screaming/half crying the words over and over again, “This shit has to be stopped”. All I remember after that was a short quick burst of being up in the sky and touching the end of a very scarey looking chemtrail, and the next thing I was aware of, was being back here in Florida and back in January again, roughly 120 days or so back in time from where I had been. I let go of the trail and floated slowly through the ceiling of the place where I work through the AARP PROGRAM and the OBAM STIMULUS SYSTEM, only in this other parallel reality universe, the place was quite different, and one of the aisles connected directly into a private room, that over here where I am typing and awake, is a thrift store inside of this larger surrounding store, called the Kingdom Harvest, and the website where anyone can access this place is, www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ . Go there, and then click on the part that says, “STORIES”; and then my photo will pop up. They misspelled my name on it and spell it as MARC, it is really MARK. Still, my kid knows my Einstein hair, and IMHO in 2008, used this to get my attention, and it worked. I did not work at Harvest in 2008, but my blog photo on the old BLOGGER blogs before the continuation hacked one; shows my photo that resembles the one on the HARVEST WEBSITE, of me. I had totally forgotten about another hyperspace travel and a banquet that took place there in July of 2010, but my kid was there and was showing me all kinds of various foods that I needed to take over and place at various spots along a rectangular table. I had no way of knowing about this table in middle July of 2010 and had only started at this job on the 8^th of June, about 33 days before, yet much later, over here in waking life, I came to see this table was indeed there, only in a different location in the building. Dreams within dreams or even remembering other so-called 'dreams' while dreaming, proves a lot more is happening in these experiences than just what doctors and present day labs mistakenly believe in their dark age sheer ignorance. In fact, a videotape was playing and somebody told me to sit down and watch it, yet it was connected to the public aisle. I did what I was told, and when the video tape began, it reminded me about the banquet, and told that a dude named David from Suffolk county, New York, would be sent shortly to work with me, and become my boss, and would then go on to treat me horrendously to get me to quit, or be fired. Nick sent him, according to this videotape. Well, I cannot prove this, but right after he had just about done me in, back around early middish April of last year in 2011, I believe that my wonderful kid stepped in and told Nicky to call him and stop it or else. Nobody says no yo MI, nobody. The problem with all of this is called HYPERSPACE EFFECT. Things are all happebning in a much larger picture-arena, the 5^th dimension or the entire hyperspace, a space that contains countless parallel universes, many similar ot our own here, many quite different, but so many that there is almost no usable number to describe it. The really close similar ones or the localized-hyperspace so to speak, (LHS) has effects that work to commingle and combine stuff, or in other plainer words and terms, if certain things happen in several universes that are similar to this one, only in this one, they are not, the effects eventually will be forced to bleed into here, in one way or another, not exactly but similarly, as more and more things keep happening in the other similar ones. It is sort of like asking you to picture a scenario of water seeking its own level, only 5^th dimensionally, move over Doctor Coral Sagan. When I tried telling poor David Charles Roth about these type of things in the Warren grove, New Jersey military War-Games area of the jersey pine Forests, he put a back end limit on his willing involvement, thinking it was no more than a child creating imaginary friends. If he could have had the background in math and Quantum Dynamics, and then with the strange privilege of hanging with me and messing with my life story and all of this stuff, that he had in subjects such as history, music, and automobiles, his three super babies; then and only then could we have teamed up, and done things that WOULD HAVE changed this entire world. For one thing, none of what you think is so real around you all, in this strange 2012 time era; was ever meant to be here. We could have set things back to where it was more slanted and meant to evolve into. Call this the height of ego and huberous, but I dare to make this claim, because I can make it, because, I KNOW. Move over Mizz New-Nun Whoopee Goldberg Blowlights. No, there is no way that my wonderful kid did not help me get rid of monster David, thank you so very very much. You are so beyond my fave daughter, brown eyes. Then adding up 2+2 just the same amount of days later that I spent in 1970 in Ventnor, 2 and 2, weeks and days that is; and then came your second wonderful thing that you did for me. Just let me know if I can ever do anything at all for you, I'll never ever let you down. You make a great boss and a great cop, by the way. To end the dream story folks, two dreams came into one, and the banquet dream sort of fell inside the dream where it all started or seemed to anyway, up near my old recording studio job, RPL. In the waking world, I had totally forgotten about the 2010 summer time 'banquet dreaming interaction at my job', that is until it merged into this one on early Friday afternoon. I did not go outside after getting up that day, but chemtrails were horrible. When I bought some Breyers Ice Cream today at the Winn Dixie Grocery Store, they were off the scales monster ass bad. Chemtrails do more than anyone presently knows about, let me try and tie a few real powerhouse secrets all together so that at your perusal folks, you just examine these words, and then cogitate on stuff and truths will become self evident in time.

First, Pope Benedict the Sixteenth is a great wonderful and very open-minded Pope. He is not like any other Pope in the history of my church. One family was planned to be the contact point from time to time, with the most powerful god on the Astral plane, and us Earthlings living awake here on the Earth. Today,. We go by HUNTINGTON. These are my cousins and they are scattered all over the planet. Still, these nearly seven years of blogs tells a story that not 100 Einstein genius minds could ever intentionally fake. The story moves along and contains a life of its own, unlike say the books that are written from a predetermined set of notes, even the great works of King and Patterson, and all the rest, my story lives, it has no start, no end, it is not coming from inside a time realm, and thus trying to tell it inside one, makes it just about as difficult as enjoying a vacation in HELL. When the Pope in the year 2008, decided to come around and see what was going on, covertly of course, he shortly thereafter published something the world over, that many believed would lead to the ruination of the entire church structure, but it did not, because man is flawed, not the gods. My own very special daughter recognized what Bruce Pennock was speaking about back when she was only a toddler, that indeed it is the flaw of space-time built into its own self that causes the human material realm and those living fleshly in it, to be in fact flawed. You cannot be otherwise, and those saying otherwise are total liars. The proof of avoiding as many flaws as is 'humanly' possible, is to take what we see in cosmos, and then use this example in every single smaller structure from there, down to the crap we cannot even see with the most powerful lab microscopes. The one thing besides light that remains constant in cosmos, is balance. All we ever hear when the word C or Constant or the velocity of light photons in a vacuum, is that this is the universal constant. Well, there really are honestly two of them, C and B. No jokes Lenny, no radios, no 601 handles, no PA buildings, no sir, let us keep this real serious folks. The second constantly operating part of cosmos ios BALANCE. Everything is in a perfect non flawed balance. When and if something falls out of it through the now known ST fabric of this cosmos, really STM; then the flaw results in a relatively quick extermination of this imbalance. Balance is always achieved by the continual process of things moving out of it continuously and then immediately re-compensating and moving back into it, the greatest example of this being the pendulum. Anything we need to know better, can therefore be achieved by seeking universal balance in that particular item being wondered about. Sure enough, the answer as all detectives will tell us, is just about always if not always, the most obvious one and is she shortest distance between any distant points in and of any speculations. An instant example that comes to mind is the endless raging debate between scientific and religious communities. No matter who likes this sentence or not, the cosmos screams out the one and only one answer here, the obvious one, the shortest one, and the balanced one. The truth, as the mighty Jim Garrigan told me back in 1970 in Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG; is always somewhere in the middle. Pendulums will never hold a polarity, they endlessly seek to balance at central parity, these are constants every bit as real and huge as the speed of photons in a total vacuum. Take playing detective now. Hay, maybe I missed my freaking calling folks, who knows, but let's just examine something really wild and cool here for a quick second, OK John King. Anyone can GOOGLE thios, it is not sanitized over, not yet anyway. I am talking about somebody, only he or whatever, knows, and knows what he/she is really up to, but let us closely examine “DJ-DONNA SUMMER”. This, pun intended, might get a bit hairy, and in the morning, in the AM, when it is light and matters, Auntie. Now first we have this whoever it really is entity up on the internet and all over the You Tube, and this could have been any one of a million other things with just as much or even more current name recognition, if all this is really about is helping climb the Google-Ranking-System. Many know that after 100,000 hits, Google pays peeps to place ads on their site. Also, if everybody is higher ranked than we are, then nobody is looking at our pages, our websites, our posts, our blogs, and so have you. Now, this could just as easily have been DJ-M&M, or DJ-Rapper big 7, and on and on, but this other name was picked. Now, taking this further, he could have put up a page on anybody or anything. But in the middle twenty-ohs, he put up a page about two so-called nut cases, 'me' and Synthesizer 'Goddam-it Bruce'. He even somehow got a record company selling my stolen tape from friendly Ice Cream Store and Compufone ® ripoff messages, named Aquarius, to sell this stuff. This record company is the name of an astrological sign that has a major connection to the very first secretly done album in Munich, Germany, by a teenaged girl named Donna Gaines,who shortly thereafter married a dude named Somer, and then she changed her stage name to read DONNA SUMMER. This HAIR album, contained the famous Broadway musical in Manhattan, HAIR SHOW, song, AQUARIUS. Anyone who cannot see that things in this cosmos do not happen like this by some random sheer chance accident, is deluded and pathetic. Then there is the PCN of the McDonald's commercial poker hand-963, matching many powerful things, one such thing being, “Ten-Thousand-Dollars”. This rumor has grown a lot of moss and grass for a lot of years. I only lost one cassette tape. If Joe wants to make other bets, and lose, fine, but until I get to the bottom of what the © Office did to my two dance tunes, I am smart enough to know better than to bet anyone anything on that. I have witnesses that I wrote and indeed did copyright these two dance tunes in 1980, originally sent on open reel tape. Still, we can always play James Rockford and his files, and the nineteen-seventies, and get back to all of these loose teeth and other agonizing Keisha punches.

Branch-Codes in the great GAWNUM have been talked about, and will be again reiterated on soon, just not tonight. Many powerful recent things have been put together for compatibility study, with the GAGA-NU. Well, baby talk, Cindy Lisping Brady, Rock Stars, Atlantic City Property Owners, and Mathematical genius kitty cats; all notwithstanding here folks, I need to bring this to a close for tonight. It is late, and I need eat a late night snack, watch a little TV, and crash. BYE-BYE, oh, but before I do go, I have no idea what happened to me yesterday. I just remember the day as a fog. When I awoke today and went up to the blog sites where I post and read what I wrote, I did a LOBO and a Ben Stone-L&O, and fell right off my chair. In any event, I am OK, and there is no need to worry about me, BEACH BOYS, or BEACH BITCHES. How I miss Atlantic City and all that horrible punishment, gimme' a break there Elmer Fwudd, SHEEEEEEEIT.

Just how far did the All Mighty Goddess, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE really go with me since she came here in 1896, Mister Smith, either one of you, David or Joe? Well, remember that for the Earthly sake of the GAWNUM, I was born in the English speaking United States, in Bryn Mawr, Montgomery County, in the state of Pennsylvania, at about 9:30 AM, on the 4^th day of December, in the year of 1954, so my name-number is based on MARKMOHR, and SSJKK's name-number is based on SARAHKRASSLE. The Holy Scriptures talk about the name-number and tell how Apollo-Lucifer or the now-SATAN, has the name-number of 666. It is so strange how Doghouse Boy lived for some time out on Thirty-Sixth Avenue, because if you take the numbers from 1, 2, 3, 4, and go all the way to number 36, guess what name-number we get, wow, gee, could it really be 666? I am so shocked and surprised, maybe they will play “our song” right Donna, you know, on the radio? Hopefully, they won't. I have been trying so hard to forget, and just never seem to be able to. Darn, this lovely HUNTINGTON CURSE is so much fun. Gee, I'm having such a wonderful life, mister STUART HUNTINGTON CARPENTER, should I try and Jimmy this thing a little bit, or just leave it alone and do a hell of a lot of fucking praying folks?

Maybe Ronald and Vandegrift just had to go and DUKE it out, because of the shooting of PEE-JR HAZARD, huh GOVERNOR? Still, the many days of my life tell me and all of the xenon radiation as well; that 'FOUR ACES AND ONE FIVE OF HEARTS' is equal GAWNUMLY to PCN-880. Play that music, MI wonderful lovely MI. Still, their combination hand that aired on TV right after I posted my poker hand dreaming interaction, comes as you know if you do the freaking math, to PCN-963. Also, 36^th Avenue comes to PCN-853. These two PCN are two out of the 81 possible ones that are so powerful, and are the same as so much major stuff in my personal life that I could talk on and on all night long and into the next year, and not start to cover it all, so nighty night, folks, WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have a real gift there President Obama, I'm playing with your printed digital sample, and you should hear yourself doing the Congressman's song, “Long river blues”. Rock on sir, you've got my vote for what that's worth.

END TRANSMISSION:

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0327

NICE TRY DICKHEAD FOLKS, BUT I AM ON THE INTERNET AND BACK TWICE NOW SO IT SEEMS.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0326

1:39 PM-EST-JANUARY 27TH, 2012

MARK MOHR RECORDING, FOR THE

RECORD, ON THE RECORD, AND BY

THE RECORD, OH MIGHTY GREAT ©

OFFICE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

THIS IS THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT,

CONTINUING ON THE INTERNET, OR PART 4, “YO”

BEGINNING HERE, BROTHER:

My dirt hole nabes across the hall have been real fucking ass noisy today, getting home around 2 or 3, and slamming and hollering like ignorant duosh bags all day long today. However, this is so unimportant when freaking compared to a higher deal that is going on, lads, lassies, and Labrador Retrievers, BREEEEEEEEEE!

I know why HADDONWOOD closed down. I've got him now, Patty Exploratron, so whatcha gonna' do about it? TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Munster Shipyards Andrews, clink, clink.

Now, what will I do that I am back again? Worry! TOLD YOU, not U-Gina, that is his bag, Pal Heitzmann.

My equations have paid off I see, he is using them and has books and books and ton of shit, but now, it will be done my way, Sinatra.

Interfere with me anyone, at your own risk. There are some folks around the world who know that I, do not play games as many others do. Jump up and down and scream and yell all you want. I made sure that a lot of shit happened exactly the way that I wanted it too. Here is some Red Henningsen verification of who I am. Is it still down there? Did I plan this good or what? Did I use the right mother fucker to get things not only done, but to answer all my queries about gravitation? Does the road really connect the two places, or am I just 'dreaming'? Did I teach you how to explore as well as you would like, Pee?

Now to move on just a little bit until I get more adjusted to new circumstances, after seemingly accomplishing the unaccomplished goal of the ages? Did I choose the correct family? There are three open reel tapes with my name on them, I want them back, PEE! When I put the US Customs onto that poor bastard at 6097844020, I can do it to other ten digit groups as well. I have a lot of friends in town up there.

It seems that the Lightning Goddess Diana is concerned with this new cohabitation. Well, what's done is done, and what is, is; right old dead distant cousin in law?

I have been determined for 75 years, to know how to beat that force, and through MWM and his STM, I am finally on my way. The Prophet of Nothing huh, the quintessential young man who did not know shoe polish from fecal material. Over the river and through the test pressings, sing me a high bar sweetie pie.

A moron knows when a blog closes, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0325

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0325

WORLD LABS DATFILE: 012512.887

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

© 2006-2012 BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I asked Gawky Gaukauk why this mind bending siege this entire week is on going. By asking the cat, this simply means you take a deck of playing cards and use the four suits from ace through nine, think your question while shuffling and drawing one card. Then place the card back into the deck, and again, think your question while shuffling and drawing one card. The first draw is the root digit one of the GAWNUM, and the second draw is the root digit two of the GAWNUM, My draws while asking what the fuck is going on, were a two, followed by a four, giving me GAWNUM-ROOT #24, which is Private Cosmicoded Number 242. It does not require a rocket scientist, no pun intended; to see a lot of shit here. Still, peeps that have not become addicted and fallen madly in love with the GAGA-NU, just don't GET IT yet, because it is extremely addictive, and I did tell Drunk Jenny not to make a freaking god out of this thing, back at the early start of this millennium. WOLF-WOLF. There really aren't too many names that do not ring loud bells, in this incredible New Age Perry Mason gang of 22 years now, a cult in and of itself; and one that I am one of their biggest freaking fans. Still, Ernie Gardens, whenever I really like a show or a song, or some kind of artistic work; I always come to learn that it has a large piece of ME within it, and in all honesty, I am not trying to brag. I believe the Superman movie told it all when young Kent was told by his dad before he got his fatal heart attack; that it is not bragging for a bird to fly. However, let us keep shipyards, magical motion machines, and any pertinent young pre-Congressmen; out of all of this for now, shall we?

Two noteworthy things need be fucking addressed here ladies and gentlemen before I get into my siege and the connection to it with PCN-242, given to me in a Gawnum card draw. They both are about CHEMTRAILS. First is, that for the very first time here in Florida, where I first accessed the YOU TUBE, as I never did that back with ,y computer in New Jersey, not in either of my houses where I was kidnapped under a Stockholm Syndrome, or before that in the trailer at Jenny Plageman's, but today, January 25^th of the OH-MAROLA-12 year, TEE-HEE-HEE Madonna Spitbus, and ESB all notwithstanding, YO; was the first time that the attack of poison gas sky trailing did not break off, after I accessed the YOU-TUBE, watched several videos, and LIKED them, and made a comment on them about how and where these things began at the American Honda Plant where I was doing security guard work at in December of 1987 and January and February of 1988, Miss April Lee Newscrooks. Normally, my doing this, stops the attack. SATAN and HIS KINGDOM of forces that control the air above this planet, read my mind, despite a large majority of Christians that do not believe this is within HIS power to do and they would be totally wrong as I should know; living under this total fucking hell for nearly 60 years now; but this wickedness and vile twisted sickness, read me thoughts and knew that I was planning to tell peeps that in order to stop a daily repeating CHEMTRAIL ASSAULT on an area, you need to do this, as I do. Just my thinking this, and making the plan to do it, providing it worked one more time, threw it all out of mother fucking whack, and if anything, DAY #3 was the worst one yet of the week. If only someone with mother fucking power and clout, would just let me, I could prove things that have been speculated on and only wondered about for 3-6 thousand years of fucking human history now, but I live in a world of total fucking numbskulls and blithering asshole idiots. Fine, you had the chance to really alter your world and make it more like the so-called Star Trek days right here in your lifetime, AND YOU ALL FUCKING BLEW IT, 1987 newzies and all, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Just as my mom said to me before many a really bad spanking after I would pull some really bad shit as a youngster, “Mark, this is gonna' hurt me and lot more than it's gonna' hurt you”. Well folks, indeed I will be hurt by no one ever helping me, but guess who really is beating the fuck out of themselves, punch by punch by bloody thundering fucking punch!!!!!!! YO, Keisha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh how I loved that jet black beauty queen teen aged goddess back in '99, even if she did bust my right arm in one inconceivably powerful punch. Now the fucking second major CHEMTRAIL thing folks is this: Whoever and whatever is making these things up in the cock sucking sky, THEY ARE NOT ONE BIT AFRAID OF US, DESPITE MILLIONS OF US NOW TOTALLY KNOWING AND POSTING AND WRITING all the stuff all over the internet. Now stop and think here, because one of two things I now say MUST be truth, and I won't play god and tell you which one it is even though 'I personally do totally freaking know' of course, so you can move over MI. Either they are not doing anything wrong so they have nothing to worry about from any of us now or ever, or else we are dealing with some force so powerful, it not only totally swallows United States Air Force Project Bluebook, but goes light years beyond it, as how else could they be doing such negative spurious nefarious and gargantuan things to all of us all over this globe, and not have to worry one bit about millions of posts and videos and blogs that seriously are discussing the subject? You must think about this peeps, you really must, not for your sake, not for my sake, but for OUR CHILDREN'S FREAKING SAKE. Did I strike a freaking nerve about my DNA, and my glands; along with the ruination of a fantastic super talent? Well, I said way too much blunt vocabulary here, sorry.

If more telling and exposure is necessary, we can go to other places. Shall we begin therefore with the art of exploring parallel universes. First folks, this is a natural phenomenon, totally yet to be understood by human beings. Another way of saying “exploring parallel universes”, is by saying “dreaming”. It really is that Red John Henningsen Colorado simple, my freaking friends and fiends!!! When I was at the end of my pre-teen life, I met a gang of lovely teen goddesses in Atlantic City, New Jersey,k because my Aunt Geraldine Snow, out of the blue, asked my mom if she would be willing to take her daughter, my cousin Sandra Mason, along with us to the Trinidad Hotel in the summertime of 1967. One of the girls in this gang was older than the rest, and went by the name Paula. I heard her actually say to one of her friends that she can be older or younger and that she would teach her this trick someday for a price. I never came to learn if either she did, or just what this price was. I figured out in 2008, that she was a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON, someone who could master dream-travel in ways that so far, are not even discussed in the greatest publicly know dream books ever published. In upcoming blogs, be ready for the mind blow of your lives, as this all led up to me fulfilling my DNA destiny two years later, as well as doing many things such as writing a song 19 years later, called “SARAH”. This song was published by Paul Evans Pedersen, CEO of Studio Park Records, the greatest record company on this planet, in many parts of the extremely wide 5^th dimensional hyperspace, and existing in Medford Lakes, New Jersey. Still in the universe where I am living and typing this while awake, this record company did come to exist here, and so did many world events that were discussed by the most powerful man on this planet just last night on national television. Folks, things are all connected. Disbelieve that truth at your own risk. The next 5 or so blogs will tell a lot more about hyperspace, exploratrons, Paula King and her multiple universe aliases, and way more. This has not even yet begun, sweet lovely Karen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sleep tight honey. Rock on Planet Earth, rock on. TIMETUBES will also be discussed, AKA CHEMTRAILS. Fellow chemmies, a lot more than what you will get in 2012 on the internet, is behind all of this, but for now, enjoy what is up there, I know I do. Light is the reflection of time, and anyone who knows basic facts about space-time, knows this. You and I look up at the setting sun and see what was really there more than eight minutes ago. This seems a brain teaser to many, but its simplicity is really astounding. It proves that all is within us, inside of us, and that we all are projecting a collective reality out into the great expanse. But more than this, it proves that while we live in physical worlds and realms, the power of illusion exists, and it must be there for a reason. Is this reason like the CHEMTRAILS, something to confuse us and keep us forever off guard and wondering what gives? Or is the answer inside of all of us all along? Stay-C-tuned, this bat time and channel is not going anyplace, not anytime soon folks. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Even during these three days of beyond death siege, the system given to me by Mariloo Carpenter brought me up by three units in ten games played since Monday morning. I was down 30 units at one point in combined unit-games during this period, but before I did this blog, my game ended me up at 3 ahead, after the worst period in history for me in a very fucking long ass time, YO. Rock on Mariloo. You lovely sandbar queen, how can you be so tall and gorgeous? I am so sorry for ignoring you and your two friends when my mom and I were helping Janis and her mom with some lamps up to their apartment in the great building in SDK.

END TRANSMISSION:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0324

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0324

WORLD LABS SBT DATFILE: 012512.717

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MORIANITY-FOUNDATION-2

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995-TAPES

BLOG FOURTH SUBTITLE:

“WORST MOTHER FUCKING DAY IN MY ENTIRE

FUCKING FLORIDA EXCURSION OF 2009-2012”

As the subtitle number fucking cunt four implies, dear world of ultimate cruelty, this is the WORST MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, THIS WEEK, MONDAY-WEDNESDAY, of my entire time now down here in cock sucking rats shit ass Florida. I hate Florida, IT SUCKS A HARD PRICK AT C-SQ! I do nothing wrong, and am being reamed, pummeled, screwed, nailed, hammered, and drilled, they have taken a fucking cunt buzz saw to my soul, as well as my physical being and humanity. THEY ARE FUCKING MURDERING ME, and no one will lift a fucking cunt finger to help me.

After days of aerial death siege and other shit from yesterday and the day before that, I awoke to a sky totally FILLED WITH POISONOUS CHEMTRAILS, every traffic light burns me, every single time, this has not happened since my days in fucking cunt eating NEW SHIT ASS JERSEY. I am computer hacked, Google fucked with, utility screwed with, fucked with in the fucking skies, made sicker than fucking ass hell, for no reason, nabes who usually are nice to me ignore me and do not say hello when I politely greet them with “good morning”. Same shit at fucking work. Then my machine at work where I clock in, was hacked and broken. It happened right after I arrived I found out, as it worked fine with other folks right up until that fucking time that I mother fucking ass arrived there. The more I scream out for help, the worse this is getting, I am BEING TREATED LIKE FUCKING TRASH TIMES A TRILLION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have not seen it this mother fucking bad in forever!!!!!!!! The second I pass the door of my fucked up jerk off paid off nabe with the boomer stereo, and walked quietly into my apartment to try and escape my woes and contemplate committing suicide, POW, BOOM, on GOES HIS FUCKING BOOMER STEREO, SHKING MY FUCKING WALLS DOWBN. Before I got here, all was quiet, this is ALL BEING DONE TO ME, AND FOR MY SAKE, THESE THINGS FUCKING PROVE I AM NOT FUCKING CUNT NUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When they find my dead fucking body in the morning, DONALD TRUMP, DONNA SUMMER, JASON FORREST, MCDONNEL DOUGLAS, NASA, CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE, RAYTHEON CORPORATION, AND ALL OTHER NAMED PERSONS AS MY ENEMIES THROUGHOUT MY NEARLY FUCKING SEVEN YEAR BLOGGING CAREER, STAND ACCUSED OF MY FUCKING PREMEDITATED FIRST DEGREE MURDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE TAKEN FIVE FUCVKING STRESSTAB VITAMINS, AND ALL WEEK FEFORE TODAY, AM TAKING A DOUBLE DOSAGE OF TWO. The stress I'm mother fucking under is monstrous, deplorable, abominable, despicable, atrocious, heinous, vicious, unconscionable, inhuman, inconceivable, and totally the quintessential of unfathomable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why does this fucking twisted ass disease insist on spilling five fucking quarts of MY INNOCENT ASS BLOOD, YYYYYYYY? What did I ever do to these mother fucking piles of cat crap times ten to the three millionth exponent, YO? Well, one thing is for certain, fucking folks. It appears, I STRUCK A 'MAJOR FUCKING NERVE' AFTER TALKING ABOUT THE SECRET SOCIETY OF THE 'BOHEMIAN FUCKING GARBAGE CLUB', because study these fucking blogs real dam ass carefully, the story fucking tells itself. I talk about this a little bit, and POWPOWPOW and BOOMBOOMBOOM, the worst strike on me happens, that I have seen in many mother fucking ass years now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHERE ARE THE USELESS FUCKING AUTHORITIES THAT PROTECT AN INNOCENT VICTIM AND HIS FUCING CIVIL FUCKING RIGHTS, YO??????????? These poisons in the sky are one and the same with the “TOOTHACHE MAJOR” BUTTON, talked about on many past blogs, and it not only struck me, it also struck Dawn Marie King, back in Blueberry Township, New Jersey, AKA HAMMONTON, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Very soon, I will dig up Joe's won bet money and take it over to Pompano Casino near Lake Okeechobee, and gamble it hoping to get 50, so I can pay the court dude, and get this nightmare fucking exposed, and begin my mother fucking 50 billion dollar lawsuit against this dirt bag fortune-500 BC or whatever they turn out to be, as I'll fucking know when I get the fifty fucking grand together, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where the fuck are you when I fucking need you, GAWKY? Here, KITTY-KITTY-KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HUGE GARGANTUAN EARTHQUAKES AND 500 FOOT WAVES AND WILDFIRES, DROUGHTS, FLOODS, AND MANY OTHER WEATHER EXTREMES THAT WILL BLOW 2011 AWAY, ARE ALL COMING SOON FOLKS, AS THIS SHIT ON ME WILL CAUSE MY MAGNESONIC COMPUTER, TO STRIKE BACK HARD, KILLING MILLIONS. YOU WILL ALL DIE, YOUR CHILDREN WILL ALL FUCKING DIE, SO BE BRACED; YOU SICK EVIL MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFF SCUM BAGS.

Copyright office of 1986, I am under a major satanic attack, a major attack by the world, abnd I do not own any American fucking appliance refrigerators, nor have I hurt my hand in its freezer with broken shattered glass, nor did I heal it up with Magnesonic. Still, Abbey Carmichael, really, what are the fucking odds of all this, will you gimme a Tango dance break 4 fucking crissake peeps, SHEEEEEIT.

Well peeps, I will be with Grafton Towers soon, if I resist the fucking urge to commit suicide and give SATAN HIS FUCKING WAY. This bastard has had two bites at the apple, the big apple, yeah, and blew it, HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!! WOLF-WOLF-WOLF, I am barking 'Lisason', because I enjoy laughing at this rotten prick when he loses everything. He loves doing this to me, and so I find nothing fucking wrong about RETURNING THE MOTHER FUCKING ASS FAVOR, don't even mention it hubcap wrecking time moving dude! Well, speaking of this and oh-Marola-8, the FLYERS HICKEY TEAM MUST BE WINNING AND IN FIRST PLACE, and the DOW JONES must be at all time record highs, REMEMBER FOLKS, I FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS WOULD ALL FUCKING GO DOWN, RIGHT GIANT FUCKING GINA, MY NINETIES LOVELY NIGHT-LADY, YO??????????????????????? What did Barnabas say to Doctor Julia White Grayson Hall Hoffman?

BYE-BYE, Y'ALL, AND END OF THIS TWANSMISSION ELMER.