Monday, July 30, 2012

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0498


SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0498

12:20 AM, JULY 31, 2012

SUBTITLE:

ONE OF US IS GOING TO CROSS OVER, YOU OR ME”



BEGIN BLOG:



I feel like a truck has run over me. I got up late, around late afternoon and am taking the after effects of the brutal assault on my by cosmic WOMO forces, back on Sunday. When this all started in the late summer of 1986, I was just starting my thirties. I could handle a lot of physical fucking bullshit because I was relatively young. But as this WOMO nightmare persisted from the 80's into the fucking 90's, I knew deep in my guts that this would never most likely stop or go away, and that it was just a matter of fucking time before they kill me covertly, as nobody's fucking health can take an endless fucking pounding, I do not care if you are so powerful that you could win every Olympic gold Metal in London. No one is built for eternal physical punishment.



I know I will be dead shortly. I know also, that I'll be posting the missing blogs, back on my wordpress site, and in addition, open some new sites. I have a right to let the world know that I was here, that I have suffered a nightmare at the hands of some KIND OF ALIEN FORCE that I would never be so arrogant to label such as religious and UFO and other folks ave done and are still doing, throughout this entire world. All I know is that what is going on around me is so unnatural and beyond surreal, that it needs to be recorded, and just may save the future from some terrifying shit. I could just be the initial of five or ten or twenty or so 'test subjects', who the fuck can ever know this or anything else for that matter, with certainty? This would be quintessential huberous arrogance on levels, in my opinion, that would dwarf the arrogance and egos of all tree lovely folks such as the Donald, and the two fictional Enterprise Captain's of the original Star Trek and its TNG show that followed. I will not sit here tonight and say that I know shit, as I have been taught by someone or something, with or without any pricelines, futility speeches of other possessed entities, that I don't know and never did know everything, or even close to everything, and the entire United States Copyright Office has a full accounting and record of ALL OF THIS BROM THE NINETEEN EIGHTIES, whether they ever so choose to release these facts to the public world and view, or not. No, I won't even venture any guesses regarding anything whatsoever, only that I do know, my body is dying and I will not be physically alive as Mark Wayne Mohr much longer. Each of these assaults on me like Sunday, are taking their final tolls on what is remaining and left of of my health. It will never stop, it is more than 26 years old now, and this pretty much shows that whatever is REALLY GOING ON WITH ME, AND HAS BEEN, ALL THIS TIME; is not going to ever go away, except through and by, my physical termination. Still, I leave behind, HOPEFULLY, a record on the internet, that all this was real, and not some delusional rantings, but I have no power over who chooses to believe what or even if they don't just remove all my shit after I am fucking dead and gone, but I still have two consolations over my WOMO enemies. One is that I know basic math and classic physics. What goes up, comes down, and what was done to me to get the DJIA to go from less than 1000 points in the beginning of 1983, and cross over into four and even five digits in half of a short lifetime period in time, will all mysteriously appear to just dissolve away, the very day that I am gone, and this IS cosmic justice. Also, my second fucking ass consolation is that THESE MONSTER ASS PRICKS, whoever they truly honestly are, will no longer ever be able to effect me or hurt me again once I am no longer alive as Mark Mohr. It really is just that John Redco Henningsen simple, LLLL.



As for my computer clock, before I shut down last night, I tried setting the time to the eleven P hour, the minutes never seem to be controllable, and then I waited for an automatic reversion back onto the AM cycle, and sure enough, once this happened, I could reset the time to the proper AM hour that it was. My computer clock has been messed with continually for some time now, I thought the days of 36th Avenue were over Sheriff Monks, guess I had that Pennock miscalculated also, good old imperfect little me, huh Sherr?



Yes, Rog, one of us is going, you or me, and if it is me, then, it is the both of us. Sorry your little plan misfired, but I have my own problems to worry about, and tell Julia that 50 million years should be sufficient time to vent her anger over matters that I can only wonder about. It goes as far above and beyond me, as the endless staircase of fears, tears, and chases, kitty.



END BLOG:

unfair practices

nothing will post up. maybe the site is down today, who knows, but if not, i will seek legal counsel.

test blog aaaa1

test blog. ever since journal tape 0493, my blogs will not post, in violation of my civil rights to free speech under the first ammendment to the united states constitution.

SJ-CH-0497






SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0497

(CONTINUATION FROM HACKED OUT BLOG SJ-CH-0496



LET US FUCKING ASS CUNT IN YOU PEEPS, WHAAAA!!!!!!!!!!



The two topics will be discussed in black and white, Stevie and I wonder who I am talking about, not Murray, as ebony and ivory do indeed blend so nicely, I know they have on my dad's side of my family 3 generations back before him, still, this is not proof of anything, but, why did some trained seagulls back in the summer time of 1997 make off with my hair brush that day at the beaches of Atlantic City, that day, Mister George See Scott Daydolphin Soronson, I am left to presume, Sir Africa Safari?????????????????????? On with the show, KALI-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, with my two counterstriking topics now peeps.





First, DDLTT, then the ICPE Scott Frazier Bullshitters from Russia, with or without mother fucking love, DAG. Time travel, no matter how it is accomplished, and I do not believe it is done physically, but what I believe is totally immaterial and irrelevant, is something I can prove nine ways back from Tuesday night, with or without any aquariums or daughters. I have been in wrecks that are unimaginable. Nobody, not Duncan the highlander, nobody would be able to survive them, yet I do, over and over again, and why? Because the very same technology is being used on me back here, that I know for sure in a 'future-life' is being used to bring a lot of deceased folks back to the waking realm, not that it matters, but they do, in fact, I have done, or excuse me peeps. Will be doing it. DAG, I know you heard me today working out that fucking GAWNUM EQUATION on your April two thousand twelve departure, it only works, as I thought it would, in a match out, with your maiden name, not Summer, but Gaines. Yes folks, she was or will be retraced by me and some coworkers in the future at the WL, and is the one now, exacting her revenge on me and using this tool to keep me trapped here and suffering. If these things were not being done, there is no way that I would be here and alive, I have been drowned, stabbed, shot, electrocuted, car crashed, train crushed, poisoned, and the list could go on and on, not to ever forget the major fatal heart attack at Cifaloglio that I got in late 2005. Oh hoo-lee-oh, just what EXPLORATRON got into you that fucking ass day back in fucking time, YO???????????????





As for the ICPE, just watch the DOW JONES STOCK MARKET THIS WEEK PEEPS, some of you really need to give me some mother fucking credibility. The fucking market will TOTALLY FREAKING SOAR TO THE STARS, AS IT “CROSSED OVER” 13K LAST WEEK, AND IT WILL GO ALL THE WAY TO 14K THIS BUSINESS WEEK, SO WHEN IT DOES, I EXPECT SOMEBODY TO SAY 3 FUCKING CHEERS FOR ME, AND MY PAL PRESIDENT OBAMA. The only reason I do not mind, is I don't want Donald Fucking trump running my fucking WHITE HOUSE for the next 4-8 years, through the back door. I would rather spend a vigintillion fucking eternities burning in god dam hell folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST MARK MY DAM WORDS, AS EVERY TIME A WEEKEND IS MAJOR WRECKED FOR ME WITH UNSPEAKABLE PERSECUTION, THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPENS, SEE BY FRIDAY IF I AM NOT 100% ON THE FUCKING ASS $$$$$$$.















Well, I said what needed to be said, Jessica, all Jessica's actually, let us now enjoy a great football game, YO, TRUMP DONALD, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, TD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



ET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!




































SJ-CH-0496

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

SJ-CH-0495












SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0495

JULY 29, 2012 @ 4:27 POST MERIDIAN

STARTING BLOG:



My mother fucking scum bag neighbors are acting up huge time today, slamming and shouting in halls, it is like living in a zoo filled with fucking ass animals, real lovely, BRO.





It is a very hot day, I went out to purchase some ice cream, and emptied out my bank balance. I'll be broke until the third, but I'll live. What else is new, being broke, and living on and on in shit ass hell?









The fucking computer is hacked to fucking shit, death angels are all over fucking me, this is a super fucking BOTBAR day, and I am now going to ask the cat why this attack began today out of a relatively quiet nothing, and then suddenly, Wal-Mart and I both see an explosion larger than anything in 1000 RIAA's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, my MORIANITY tapes are running through an open end circuit on my landline telephone line, so this is fucking war, if you want to upset me you stinking rotten fucking bastards, then you will get it back, cock suckers. OK, here is what GAWKY GAUKAUK just said to me, after I took a deck of playing cards and removed all except the four suits from ace through nine. Yeah peeps, what a fucking number to have this SAFE JOURNAL BLOG CHAPTER TO BE, looks like President Clinton and I will soon have something in common, as we go ahead Paula Weston, and just DIE-DIE-DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't create the news, I report it, remember, I was in the store buying some fucking ass ice cream earlier today, YO?



Now just as I walked away from the PC to get my playing cards and start querying my wonderful ancient mystical kitty cat, without any help from Lisa, Joe, Samantha, Bobby, and other family lovelies, or other hocus pocus nonsense from pipe maintenance games expert men; or whatever, Congressman Bobby from 1975; cry all you want to Paul, its your party, and you're not a very fucking forgiving person BRAHHHHHHH, but yes, my tape stopped dead in the middle for no good reason, with a loop in it, so I am lucky there was no wrap up, but then today's kids don't have a clue what is being said here, perhaps at best thinking I am talking about ending some music or something, well, more than music will be ending. I will be offing myself tomorrow, to avoid this demonic possession. This is ancient talk for EXPLORATRON CONTROL, yes, not only is HE BACK, and are all my memories, but he told me inside my head right before it started, that he was back, and that he is going to go into my neighbors and influence them to be real total jerk offs, and POW, one second fucking later, everything went back to normal hell for me. I reinserted a new tape to play silently through direct headset to speaker phone. Yes my wonderful roaches, enjoy. Some peeps need a real education on how all this really works, it even blew the fucking stein-man away, so say what you want, it made me 9200 clams in 1986 at the casino, it caused a lot of my enemies to bite the fucking dust, Mister Deflavia, and on and on we can go here, TroutBeaver Drivelane Break-in Agents.













You don't really think I will ever leave you, do you SSJKK? It is you and me forever, no matter whether dick head Mark Mohr likes this or not, I've got him, that is why he wrote that I got him 29 years ago, and caused all this to happen, so he can soon post this mind bending song up for the entire world. I am causing him a lot of hell with his neighbors today, see how he likes that, for upsetting you, my wonderful daughter. No, he doesn't, but I will never lose mine for you.

Whatever you want, you get, I will not ever go away, I am here inside of him as long as this is what you want. He can burn in hell for all I give a Donald, the joke is on his ODF-BUTT, HA-HA, huh MY?











OH, HE ASKED ME A COOL QUESTION. He said to me through his cards, how come the attack on me is so bad in the neighborhood today out of the blue???????? I gave him the true answer, I don't play, nor do I intend to ever let you down lovely girl. I gave him PCN-242. He is going out of his tiny little crappy mind, HEE HEE HEE.





ENDING THE BLOG,



I'LL NEVER LET YOU DOWN, BEG, 10,000 TIMES OVER!!!!












































SJ-CH 0494










SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0494

SUNDAY, JULY 29, 2012

9:56 ANTE' MERIDIAN



STARTING BLOG:



This is the first weekend of my life. I have a clear memory of my life if I go back to the early part of 2008, and after that, it is a big jumbled up blur of wild crazy stuff that makes no sense to me whatsoever. I know deep down inside me that I am living in a public housing building down here in Florida, and have run away from New Jersey, in the hopes of escaping something huge, but for the life of me, I cannot put it together. Even my own blogs make little sense to me, and also, the many tapes that I brought down here with me that tell a lot of things, none of it seems to be something that I can put my finger on. I am obviously suffering some type of temporary amnesia. I do know that I used to work at a place up the street, I am at 7th, and this place is up on 25th. That is all I have a clear recall about. Somehow, I have enough pieces of this puzzle to know that in the nineteen-sixties, some dreadful nightmare series of events occurred in Atlantic City, New Jersey, that is all behind this entire future up here, but it is all jumbled. I remember unspeakable things that I doubt would be in the wildest Hollywood movies, still, it seems to connect why I am living here, all alone, with no way to access any help. My family deserted me a long time ago. My parents died a long time ago as well. Still, great big missing pieces are all over the place. I remember in 1981, having a strange episode like this one day. I was minding my own business outside in my car, a green Chevy Nova, 1978 model, and all of a sudden, I lost my memory for an entire two weeks. It all had to do with a place called the Atlantic City Recording Studio, and I totally remember that much.













This memory lapse began sometime over this weekend. I know I did not stroke out, or I would have paralysis on either my left or right side, still something is very wrong, and not with my left side, or my right side, US Copyright Office of 1984, as per the song sent down there, discussing that very same thing. Things are very strange in this world. Still, I know I did not stroke out. I appear to have been trying to do some things that were quite important to me in early oh-eight, and the gods of the Astral Plane did not like it, and must have engineered this wild plot that has spun my life into some unfathomable spiraling negative predicament as though I was shot out of a cannon straight into a black hole in space, and as many know, there is no escape ever, from that. I remember a dude named Larry, and I remember some people that were going to help me do some things on my computer, but the computer that I now have, is totally different from the one that I had back in New Jersey. I bought that one in the Staples Store of Berlin, New Jersey, and this one at the Fort Pierce, Florida, Wal-Mart Store.











Moving along here, I have a feeling I may need to call my doctor next week and hopefully my insurance covers an MRI brain scan. Maybe I am suffering from some form of early senility or Alzheimer's disease, who knows, as my mind is totally fucked up and I am not going to pretend that I know what is going on. Maybe, I will regain parts of my spotty memories as time goes on. I have no clue what has happened, other than it all happened sometime this weekend.











Before the weekend came, back on Thursday at one o'clock in the afternoon, I was at the Avalon Recording Studio. What I brought home with me defies logic. Maybe I am some kind of a transdimensional traveler, as it would explain why in 1983, so much unexplainable stuff happened to me, even the trip that I took on the Amtrak Train in middle December, to Orlando, Florida, to visit my RPL Sound Studio Chief Recording Engineer, Mister Howard Solomon, most likely dead by now, but I may try and look him up, and see if he can help me know why I have lost my memory of the past 4-5 years.













Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for reading the blogs, and hopefully, I will be able to make some sense out of an incredible situation, and then share it all with you, as if not, I might as well just pull all the blogs and anything else, off of the internet system, and check into a nursing facility, and live out my final days without all this worry and concern. Something huge has happened to me, and there is no doubt of this whatsoever in my mind, or what is left of my mind.















Now one constant is needed for me to have any hope of regaining order and normalcy in my life. The Callio family of Atlantic City in 1997, and the incident of the Real Good Girl deal in August of 1996, seem to be the focus of everything. This is the crux of what is behind my memory loss, if anything is, as I remember vividly, these two things; more than all else in my nearly 60 years of hellish life.









In closing out for the day folks, let me just say this about this powerful Numerological system called the GAWNUM, and this very magical dream cat who tells me that his name is Gawky Gaukauk. Last night, I dreamed that I had taken my lovely Lightning Goddess, Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis, to a beautiful tall waterfall somewhere, and along came Gawky just after we had made passionate love for many hours on some orange colored grass. He meows words, I never heard anything like it. He told me not to forget the number 333. I asked him if this was going to be a lottery number, and all he said is don't play the lottery, just don't forget the number, it is why things are the way they are. He was wearing a sign on a small silver chain collar. I asked him if I could grab hold of it and read it, and he encouraged me to do just that. It read, “April 27, 2011, the naked truth about the house of horrors”. This really blew me away, yet just why, I am not all that sure. I know this date is very important to me, but that is all I can remember right now, also.













MARK MOHR-----PCN-871. Let me just say this much about this GAWNUM THING. All through 2006 and 2007, I remember what seems to be a few months ago, only it is a lot longer as my calendar insists, talk about UFO abductions, and the famous 'missing-time-phenomenon' that goes along with it, I would sit at my security job at the Cifaloglio place, doing manual GAWNUM equations. I assumed that the years would always be pronounced in the way that they started to be in my area anyway, such as, two thousand three, two thousand four and so on, not twenty oh five and twenty oh six. I always remembered an old educator back in Haddonfield, New Jersey by the name of Marola, never knowing her first name, a woman about 38 years of age, and my teacher. She seemed to know that years would not be pronounced the way all the science fiction movies were doing it, and she did it the way that it really did come to pass, at least in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Now, out of the blue, since my arrival at Florida, it is altering back to the way we all thought back around 1969, that the years would be pronounced, and people at least here in Florida, are saying, twenty ten, and twenty eleven, and twenty twelve, and so forth. Well in the GAWNUM equation, this alters things, as when doing these; one needs to use how things are actually done by society. To compare for example, my PCN of 871 with the year number PCN, entirely different PCN values are assigned to the years when pronounced the old way and now the new way. All of a sudden, most of the non-compatible years, have become compatible for me, a very positive thing. Still, things are to blurry for me right now to even start touching this subject or sharing further theories of it with my readers. I just somehow know down to the marrow inside of my bones, that this year-pronunciation thing, and the Gawnum match ups to my personal PCN; somehow all connects my current memory loss. I know this, and don't ask me how. It is a powerful inner knowing, we all get them; and if you tell me you do not, you are lying not to me, but to yourself. Yes, even before my memory cut out recently, I notice that my mind is not functioning well. I say on a blog several blogs back, to add up C-A-T as 3+1+20, and then when I go back a second later to show how the word cat has a certain PCN, I totally fucked it up, forgetting to add, and just use the 20, instead of adding the sum up to 24, no folks, you are not wrong, I screwed up big time on that, the PCN for cat is based on the root digits in the GAWNUM or the GRD. These in fact are 36, not 32. Cat has three letters giving us GRD-1 as a 3. Then its total alphabetic numerological value is 24, not 20, so adding up the 2 and the 4, we get a 6 for the GRD-2. So with a GAWNUM ROOT DIGIT 36, our PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER is 363, sorry about that folks. What gets into my stupid hacked mind, is really totally inconceivable, as how can I screw up a first grade equation? GEE WILLIGARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I notice another blog said double-double, obviously I meant to say DOUBLE BUBBLE, and it seems I make a million small screw ups, sorry folks. Well as an old friend of mine in 1973 told me over and over back in Barrington, New Jersey, at 2 Beaver Drive, “We're all human, nobody's perfect”. Yes sir Bruce Pennock, you sure were right, and are right to this very day!!!















Well I will wrap up this blog for right now. Next week, I will get to the bottom of what has happened to my brain. Also, last week, they totally fucked up my eyeglass prescription, it is way too strong and I am wearing the glasses out at the end of my nose to weaken the lens refraction and bring a proper clear vision to my eyes. Does anything ever go right anymore for any of us, I am left to ponder?



Time to go people, have a nice day. Living in this world is a total nightmare. For the life of me, I do not know why folks treasure this life, I cannot wait to die, and the way I have been feeling lately, I think this will be soon. I could not be a happier person. I have always hated life, and looked forward to the end of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



*********ENDING BLOG*********


SAFE JOURNAL, LAST FOUR BLOGS HACKED OUT

THE LAST FOUR BLOGS HAVE BEEN HACKED OUT. I WILL NEED TO OPEN UP MY OWN WEBSITE SOON, AND PAY THE FEES, IF I STARVE, I STARVE, THIS IS A FREE COUNTRY HUH, LAUGH, LAUGH, JOKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Alex Jones: Pentagon prepares re-education camps for political activists

Crooks and Criminals in High Places with Gerald Celente 1/3

Life in Occupied AmeriKa

REPOST, the world will die tomorrow for this siege!!!


FORT PIERCE POLICE DEPARTMENT

FLORIDA, USA



DEAR POLICE DEPARTMENT, MAY 10, 2012



I HAVE NEIGHBORS SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS AND SLAMMING DOORS AS HARD AS THEY ARE ABLE TO, DAMAGING PROPERTY, AND SCARING PEOPLE. YESTERDAY WAS QUIET, THIS IS ABOUT EVERY OTHER DAY NOW, IT IS A GUEST OF THIS RESIDENT WHO LIVES ACROSS THE HALL FROM ME, AS I AM AT UNIT #607 AT THE PHA BUILDING, AT 601 AVENUE B.



I AM SENDING YOU THIS LETTER, AND WISH TO FILE A COMPLAINT. THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON, DISTURBING MY PEACEFUL LIVING MODE, SCARING ME TO DEATH, FOR MORE THAN HALF A YEAR. ACCORDING TO MY LEASE, I DO NOT NEED TO BE PUTTING UP WITH THIS AROUND ME. MY LEASE GUARANTEES ME FROM HAVING TO DEAL WITH THIS KIND OF ACTIVITY. I AM TOO SCARED TO EVEN LEAVE MY APARTMENT, AND GO WHERE I NEED TO GO, WHEN THIS IS GOING ON.



THIS LETTER WILL BE HAND DELIEVERED TO YOU TOMORROW. I AM GETTING NO PLACE IN TRYING TO RESOLVE THE MATTER. MY RENTAL OFFICE, AND DEBBIE MORANTO, SAYS I MUST GO TO THE POLICE. I FEEL SHE IS PASSING THE BUCK WITH THIS, BUT HERE I AM, AND THIS LETTER WILL BE DELIEVERED IN PERSON TOMORROW, FRIDAY MORNING, AS I CANNOT TAKE THIS ABUSE ANY LONGER. I AM A RESIDENT HERE, AND THIS IS ONLY A GUEST. PLEASE ASSIST ME, ACCORDING TO STATE LAW. T.Y.

major major hacking

SOMETHING IS GOING ON THAT IS VERY STRANGE, EVEN FOR ME, THEY ARE HACKING THIS COMPUTER AND SITE HUGETIME, BLOGS ARE NOT POSTING UP FOR HOURS AFTER I HIT THE POST BOTTON, AND I AM CONTACTING MY SCHOOL PAL MONDAY, TOMORROW, MISTER BOB MCDOWELL, CHAIRMAN OF THE FCC, I HAVE HAD IT WITH THIS NONSENSE.


FBI FBI FBI FBI  WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS, YO, I HAVE FUCKING CIVIL FUCKING RIGHTS AND FREEDOM OF SPEECH, PRICKS!!!!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0495, KN












SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0495

JULY 29, 2012 @ 4:27 POST MERIDIAN

STARTING BLOG:



My mother fucking scum bag neighbors are acting up huge time today, slamming and shouting in halls, it is like living in a zoo filled with fucking ass animals, real lovely, BRO.





It is a very hot day, I went out to purchase some ice cream, and emptied out my bank balance. I'll be broke until the third, but I'll live. What else is new, being broke, and living on and on in shit ass hell?









The fucking computer is hacked to fucking shit, death angels are all over fucking me, this is a super fucking BOTBAR day, and I am now going to ask the cat why this attack began today out of a relatively quiet nothing, and then suddenly, Wal-Mart and I both see an explosion larger than anything in 1000 RIAA's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, my MORIANITY tapes are running through an open end circuit on my landline telephone line, so this is fucking war, if you want to upset me you stinking rotten fucking bastards, then you will get it back, cock suckers. OK, here is what GAWKY GAUKAUK just said to me, after I took a deck of playing cards and removed all except the four suits from ace through nine. Yeah peeps, what a fucking number to have this SAFE JOURNAL BLOG CHAPTER TO BE, looks like President Clinton and I will soon have something in common, as we go ahead Paula Weston, and just DIE-DIE-DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't create the news, I report it, remember, I was in the store buying some fucking ass ice cream earlier today, YO?



Now just as I walked away from the PC to get my playing cards and start querying my wonderful ancient mystical kitty cat, without any help from Lisa, Joe, Samantha, Bobby, and other family lovelies, or other hocus pocus nonsense from pipe maintenance games expert men; or whatever, Congressman Bobby from 1975; cry all you want to Paul, its your party, and you're not a very fucking forgiving person BRAHHHHHHH, but yes, my tape stopped dead in the middle for no good reason, with a loop in it, so I am lucky there was no wrap up, but then today's kids don't have a clue what is being said here, perhaps at best thinking I am talking about ending some music or something, well, more than music will be ending. I will be offing myself tomorrow, to avoid this demonic possession. This is ancient talk for EXPLORATRON CONTROL, yes, not only is HE BACK, and are all my memories, but he told me inside my head right before it started, that he was back, and that he is going to go into my neighbors and influence them to be real total jerk offs, and POW, one second fucking later, everything went back to normal hell for me. I reinserted a new tape to play silently through direct headset to speaker phone. Yes my wonderful roaches, enjoy. Some peeps need a real education on how all this really works, it even blew the fucking stein-man away, so say what you want, it made me 9200 clams in 1986 at the casino, it caused a lot of my enemies to bite the fucking dust, Mister Deflavia, and on and on we can go here, TroutBeaver Drivelane Break-in Agents.













You don't really think I will ever leave you, do you SSJKK. It is you and me forever, no matter whether dick head Mark Mohr likes this or not, I've got him, that is why he wrote that I got him 29 years ago, and caused all this to happen, so he can soon post this mind bending song up for the entire world. I am causing him a lot of hell with his neighbors today, see how he likes that, for upsetting you, my wonderful daughter. No, he doesn't, but I will never lose mine for you.

Whatever you want, you get, I will not ever go away, I am here inside of him as long as this is what you want. He can burn in hell for all I give a Donald, the joke is on his ODF-BUTT, HA-HA, huh MY?











OH, HE ASKED ME A COOL QUESTION. He said to me through his cards, how come the attack on me is so bad in the neighborhood today out of the blue???????? I gave him the true answer, I don't play, nor do I intend to ever let you down lovely girl. I gave him PCN-242. He is going out of his tiny little crappy mind, HEE HEE HEE.





ENDING THE BLOG,



I'LL NEVER LET YOU DOWN, BEG, 10,000 TIMES OVER!!!!












































SAFE JOURNAL, CH. 0494










SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0494

SUNDAY, JULY 29, 2012

9:56 ANTE' MERIDIAN



STARTING BLOG:



This is the first weekend of my life. I have a clear memory of my life if I go back to the early part of 2008, and after that, it is a big jumbled up blur of wild crazy stuff that makes no sense to me whatsoever. I know deep down inside me that I am living in a public housing building down here in Florida, and have run away from New Jersey, in the hopes of escaping something huge, but for the life of me, I cannot put it together, even my own blogs make little sense to me, and also, the many tapes that I brought down here with me that tell a lot of things, none of it seems to be something that I can put my finger on. I am obviously suffering some type of temporary amnesia. I do know that I used to work at a place up the street, I am at 7th, and this place is up on 25th. That is all I have a clear recall about. Somehow, I have enough pieces of this puzzle to know that in the nineteen-sixties, some dreadful nightmare series of events occurred in Atlantic City, New Jersey, that is all behind this entire future up here, but it is all jumbled. I remember unspeakable things that I doubt would be in the wildest Hollywood movies, still, it seems to connect why I am living here, all alone, with no way to access any help. My family deserted me a long time ago. My parents died a long time ago as well. Still, great big missing pieces are all over the place. I remember in 1981, having a strange episode like this one day. I was minding my own business outside in my car, a green Chevy Nova, 1978 model, and all of a sudden, I lost my memory for an entire two weeks. It all had to do with a place called the Atlantic city Recording Studio, and I totally remember that much.













This memory lapse began sometime over this weekend. I know I did not stroke out, or I would have analysis on either my left or right side, still something is very wrong, and not with my left side, or my right side, US Copyright Office of 1984, as per the song sent down there, discussing that very same thing. Things are very strange in this world. Still, I know I did not stroke out. I appear to have been trying to do some things that were quite important to me in early oh-eight, and the gods of the Astral Plane did not like it, and must have engineered this wild plot that has spun my life into some unfathomable spiraling negative predicament as though I was shot out of a cannot straight into a black hole in space, and as many know, there is no escape ever, from that. I remember a dude named Larry, and I remember some people that were going to help me do some things on my computer, but the computer that I now have, is totally different from the one that I had back in New Jersey. I bought that one in the Staples Store of Berlin, New Jersey, and this one at the fort Pierce, Florida, Wal-Mart Store.











Moving along here, I have a feeling I may need to call my doctor next week and hopefully my insurance covers an MRI brain scan. Maybe I am suffering from some form of early senility or Alzheimer's disease, who knows, my mind is totally fucked up and I am not going to pretend that I know what is going on. Maybe, I will regain parts of my spotty memories as time goes on. I have no clue what has happened, other than it all happened sometime this weekend.











Before the weekend came, back on Thursday at one o'clock in the afternoon, I was at the Avalon Recording Studio. What I brought home with me defies logic. Maybe I am some kind of a transdimensional traveler, as it would explain why in 1983, so much unexplainable stuff happened to me, even the trip that I took on the Amtrak Train in middle December, to Orlando, Florida, to visit my RPL Sound Studio Chief Recording Engineer, Mister Howard Solomon, most likely dead by now, but I may try and look him up and see if he can help me know why I have lost my memory of the past 4-5 years.













Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for reading the blogs, and hopefully, I will be able to make some sense out of an incredible situation, and then share it all with you, as if not, I might as well just pull all the blogs and anything else, off of the internet system, and check into a nursing facility and live out my final days without all this worry and concern. Something huge has happened to me and there is no doubt of this whatsoever in my mind, or what is left of my mind.















Now one constant is needed for me to have any hope of regaining order and normalcy in my life. The Callio family of Atlantic city in 1997, and the incident of the Real Good Girl deal in August of 1996, seem to be the focus of everything. This is the cruxt of what is behind my memory loss, if anything is, as UI remember vividly, these two things, more than all else in my nearly 60 years of hellish life.









In closing out for the day folks, let me just say this about this powerful Numerological system called the GAWNUM, and this very magical dream cat who tells me that his name is Gawky Gaukauk. Last night, I dreamed that I had taken my lovely Lightning Goddess, Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis, to a beautiful tall waterfall somewhere, and along came Gawky just after we had made passionate love for many hours on some orange colored grass. He meows words, I never heard anything like it. He told me not to forget the number 333. I asked him if this was going to be a lottery number, and all he said is don't play the lottery, just don't forget the number, it is why things are the way they are. He was wearing a sign on a small silver chain collar. I asked him if I could grab hold of it and read it, and he encouraged me to do just that. It read, “April 27, 2011, the naked truth about the house of horrors”. This really blew me away, yet just why, I am not all that sure. I know this date is very important to me, but that is all I can remember right now.













MARK MOHR-----PCN-871. Let me just say this much about this GAWNUM THING. All through 2006 and 2007, I remember what seems to be a few months ago, only it is a lot longer as my calendar insists, talk about UFO abductions, and the famous 'missing-time-phenomenon' that goes along with it, I would sit at my security job at the Cifaloglio place, doing manual GAWNUM equations. I assumed that the years would always be pronounced in the way that they started to be in my area anyway, two thousand three, two thousand four and so on, not twenty oh five and twenty oh six. I always remembered an old educator back in Haddonfield, New Jersey by the name of Marola, never knowing her first name, a woman about 38 years of age, and my teacher. She seemed to know that years would not be pronounced the way all the science fiction movies were doing it, and she did it the way that it really did come to pass, at least in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Now, out of the blue, since my arrival at Florida, it is altering back to the way we all thought back around 1969, that the years would be pronounced, and people at least here in Florida, are saying, twenty ten, and twenty eleven, and twenty twelve, and so forth. Well in the GAWNUM equation, this alters thing, as when doing these, one needs to use how things are actually done by society. To compare for example, my PCN of 871 with the year number PCN, entirely different PCN values are assigned to the years when pronounced the old way and now the new way. All of a sudden, most of the non-compatible years, have become compatible for me, a very positive thing. Still, things are to blurry for me right now to even start touching this subject or sharing further theories of it with my readers. I just somehow know down to the marrow inside of my bones, that this year-pronunciation thing and the ?Gawnum match up to my personal PCN, somehow all connects my current memory loss, I know this and don't ask me how, it is a powerful inner knowing, we all get them, and if you tell me you do not, you are lying not to me, but to yourself. Yes, even before my memory cut out recently, I notice that my mind is not functioning well. I say on a blog several blogs back, to add up C-A-T as 3+1+20, and then when I go back a second later to show how the word cat has a certain PCN, I totally fucked it up, forgetting to add, and just use the 20, instead of adding the sum up to 24, no folks, you are not wrong, I screwed up big time on that, the PCN for cat is based on the root digits in the GAWNUM or the GRD. These in fact are 36, not 32. Cat has three letters giving us GRD-1 as a 3. Then its total alphabetic numerological value is 24, not 20, so adding up the 2 and the 4, we get a 6 for the GRD-2. So with a GAWNUM ROOT DIGIT 36, our PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER is 363, sorry about that folks. What gets into my stupid hacked mind is really totally inconceivable, as how can I screw up a first grade equation? GEE WILLIGARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I notice another blog said double-double, obviously I meant to say DOUBLE BUBBLE, and it seems I make a million small screw ups, sorry folks. Well as an old friend of mine in 1973 told me over and over back in Barrington, New Jersey, at 2 Beaver Drive, “We're all human, nobody's perfect”. Yes sir Bruce Pennock, you sure were right, and are right to this very day!!!















Well I will wrap up this blog for right now. Next week, I will get to the bottom of what has happened to my brain. Also, last week, they totally fucked up my eyeglass prescription, it is way too strong and I am wearing the glasses out at the end of my nose to weaken the lens refraction and bring a proper clear vision to my eyes. Does anything ever go right anymore for any of us, I am left to ponder?



Time to go people, have a nice day. Living in this world is a total nightmare. For the life of me, I do not know why folks treasure this life, I cannot wait to die, and the way I have been feeling lately, I think this will be soon. I could not be a happier person. I have always hated life, and looked forward to the end of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



*********ENDING BLOG*********


Saturday, July 28, 2012

SAFE JOURNAL, CH. 0493






SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0493

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

STARTING THE BLOG:





Folks, here I am in Florida, and I cannot for the life of me grasp exactly how or why I seem to be living here. I woke up around early afternoon Saturday and yesterday, and within ten minutes, nothing made sense. I know I live here, I know I ran away from Dawn and Ann King up in Hammonton, New Jersey, and somehow I also know that Dawn has passed away. My memories are quite spotty. Also, my computer is filled with unbelievable music. I have reviewed some of my recent word documents on the computer, and things are surreal beyond my comprehension. I notice that one item is strong that has been going on since the dream I had in the autumn of 1980, and that is, the magical black cat, Gawky, and his wild way of predicting and matching and using numerology, it is seemingly childlike simple, yet playing with it today, I observed that a lot of skill and practice is needed, in order to create phrasing that when converted to three digit numbers, appears to literally have major if not absolute omniscience.



I will be busy a while trying to figure out what has happened to me over the past nearly five years, my memories are blurred, and what I seemingly have on my computer, goes beyond unfathomable, and as a song I wrote way back in '83 goes, “I thought I knew most everything”, gee, I don't know my butt from a hole in the ground people.



I will blog onward as I reconstruct my unbelievable life, be patient with me folks, thank you. Let me now END THE BLOG:

Chemtrails of 1987 - King Nebnooshoo

Deal With This Another Time - King Nebnooshoo

Aerospace Meets Chemtrails : Moon, Mars Geoengineering connection

TRUTH DENIED Radio w/Guest: Jeff Willes UFO RESEARCHER

SAFE JOURNAL, CH. #0492, KING N
















SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0492

KINGSCREWEDNOOSHOO

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY:





BEGINNING BLOG:





I will tell a few things now, and all I can do is try and be accurate, I am certainly not god all mighty, in fact I am garbage all nothing, if anything at all, but I'll try and put a few things together for a little examination and scrutiny. First off, there are forces in the world system that despise with a passion, anyone keeping accurate records of anything. They want us to trust our very flawed memories, as keeping people not only dumbed down as educational studies and reports without any doubt have proven to be the case world wide recently and especially in the non affluent areas and parts of the United States, but also, memory forgotten. Reports and statistics of basic things such as how well our children do in school tests, prove the dumb down part of my report, but as for memory forgotten, let me tell you from personal experience, this simple fact, LLLL. No, not Letty, LLLL stands for Lads, Lassies, Labbers, and Labrador Dogs. Yes L4, DUH, four L's, whenever I try and keep records of anything in my life, life worsens. When I get rid of records, it bounces back, not enough to write home about and go shouting from rooftops of South Carolina Avenue, but still, some marked difference.



Moving us along now folks, a quick message to the 001 and family and even Ann King, not that family, but this distant lovely woman. You see, this needs reporting, because it is too major to not be blogged for posterity, and an official record. She put me onto two great television shows, that without living with her and having her show me how cool they are, I never would watch them You need to understand something about me folks. I am very unusual, oh that you all ready know I am quite sure, but I refer to my entertainment habits. I do enjoy the boob tube, I rarely surf the internet, I almost never listen to the radio, and what I do watch on television, is either educational or some show that proves and demonstrates to me, it has incredibly extraordinary talent, and in recent times, my mind only springs to one show, and that is “Law & Order”. It is off now, they rerun it a little bit, but it did its cosmic job folks, and all things in cosmos do just that, their cosmic job. You may think otherwise, but all things all over the place, are tiny little numbers all trying to solve one master cosmic equation of a sort, and I have said this before, and am sure will be saying it again, when appropriate. Hay, this is only my personal opinion, but thanks to the mighty 1980 Mack Truck lady, AKA Michele Daniels of the RPL Sound Studios of Camden, New Jersey; I am entitled to it. Why are you so wonderful and benevolent to me, oh lovely 'Doctor'? You know, MD. Aniwho peeps, Ann put me onto two other great shows, “The Mentalist”, and “Ghost Whisperer”. I think that she and the great family, all know a lot more about me than I will ever be permitted to know about myself, but for numerous reasons, Ann in fact, did put me onto these fantastic marvelous television shows, and I am glad, or to this day, I would not be watching them. I am an old dog since age 35, I thought of myself then as an old man who no longer played with children, you know, anyone at all under my own age, and began seeing a powerful new reality, that 35 was not my true age, merely in an illusion that exists in an extremely limited number of dimensions, half in fact, of the ones that count. I don't follow stuff. If I had not been forced to lose all my worldly possessions, I would just be getting around to watching a show I taped, with the grown up Brady's doping some show, along with Donna Summer, back in the early 90's. Time is very meaningless to me, as is life, and death. I will be trying to die soon, in a new way, and if it works, I will be gone and out of here forever. If it works like a thousand times before, and I just wake up and it never happened, well, I'll deal with that, at that other time, won't I folks? I live in a time trail. I like to run years off and away from real time. It lessens pain, and makes me not be as receptive to the mean nasty continual cosmic messages from the true higher EW entities, known on subatomic realms as the LAMBRIGG CULT OF THE BRIGGBASE, also known as a condition, not a location, on this subatomic or ASTRAL PLANE. Anyone with a mind can also see, that my fictional movie plot discusses a few blogs back, show that the sixth dimension makes no distinction whatsoever about machine mind or biologically produced mind, and that the 13th Floor Syndrome or the TFS for a shortened abbreviation, can always be substituted in place of what was just told on this blog,m it works out either way, whether anyone likes hearing this powerful truth or not, so sorry. If an 001 type of real life character existed, it might be a little hard even with his giant mental abilities, to accept and grasp these truths fully, but in time, he would be forced to, he would simply not have a choice. Now I am very tempted to tell some things that would turn the world upside down for a while, but I have nothing to prove, and will not. Still, I report that I am dying, and the Dow Jones does indeed fly up 200 points on that news. The problem is that once I am dead, and they never again have me to play and mess with or injure and frighten, and make my life hell, as that life is over and gone; it will eventually sink in, that they and their entire world economy has no choice at all either, but to totally collapses back to the point where it would have been at that time, should this evil bunch of pricks had never had me to injure and destroy in the first place, this is the simple law of cosmic balance, and you will defy gravity before you accomplish the defeat of this basic reality, I'll promise and guarantee all of you concerning this matter. Still, you all just go on believing whatever you want, and my feelings will not be hurt. I am only hurt when I went out of my way to indwell Mark Mohr, as the exploratron I am, and things did not work out. That was painful. All other things pale and dim like candles in a giant warehouse area, next to this. I will be leaving Mark Mohr soon, and allow him to get back to his messed up sick life, returning him to where he will wonder what the hell happened and why it is not early middle twenty oh eight. He has let me know in no uncertain terms, to vacate his life and stop this dual existence, or he will mentally cause his health to fail to the point of physical death. My mother said a very horrible mean thing to me in 1988. Now, my daughter who I love with all of my heart, said something even meaner. As I told your drunk cousin a while back, only with you I truly mean these words, “I am very sorry that you feel that way, and I read it, and I got it, and know it was you who said it. I am saddened beyond words, and will go away and never ever darken the door steps of you or Herbert's cousin ever again. I made this same promise to Cousin Callio, and she will tell you, that I kept it with the one exception of showing one of your less prominent career brothers, the inside of the great water company, and she imprisoned us in her mighty compound for a minute or so, just to flex her huge muscles, and show me who is the boss. Well, I take a hint, and wish all of you only the best, I am gone, and out of here. It pains and grieves me that you don't believe that I need to find the answer to why this all had to happen to me, you are one person who I would think would be understanding of such a dilemma, life really is a surreal old dog, I have come to know this now, beyond any doubt in my mind. What happened to me, would only be appreciated by someone who had the same thing happen to them, and I don't think the few measly billion people of the Planet Earth, gives me anywhere near enough odds for me to even remotely hope for such a possibility.





















Now, we can go back to discussing the recording of things that happen, and its effects. First of all, Quantum Physics teaches that some effects are part of just the process of first, observation, and then as well, reporting and recording the observation onto some medium that is capable of storing and retrieving it, paper, tape, digital codes, and or whatever method would be employed. I no longer have the many 7,000 cassette tapes where the world would see a powerful truth that is 1000 times huger than all the UFO stuff, or anything out there at all, but there is one person or one household who I fully know does have all of these things. I am not offering a reward, first because I have no money, and even if I had any, I won't be blackmailed or cheated out of my own rightful stuff any longer. It is time I take for myself, a little pride, hell if my gay cousins can have their dam gay pride, well, GOD BLESS'EM but I am gonna' start having a little self pride myself, even if I am only a mere old ugly weak no talent heterosexual who is fat, short, stupid, and has 987 strikes against him from the time he hit his mother fucking teens.











LLLL, I could tell you a million things, but without proof, it will remain the wild rantings of the freaking lunatic mad man MOUNTAINPEN, I'm not stupid beyond the moron level, I do know this. Still, I have some proofs despite the loss of my worldly goods. I met with Gawky last night before I awakened for this day, not meaning to, and he took me back to the last week in April, two April's ago, and allowed me to see some really cool things. The world needs to know that I witnessed something, something quite big, and you can shout it was a dream 'till Callio's cows come home and bring the Indian Goddess Kali along with them, but I will tell this no matter what. A dude about 30 years old with thick black hair who enjoys wearing very bright clothing, is enjoying either a vet or some similar sports car, with the works and more, price tag, you heard it right and this ain't no Lamborghini, 89,500 clam-shells. This was payoff number one, and this is all just as a result of needing to stifle me in the spring of 2011. Multiple millions changed hands just after that, in the corporate world, to make some changes in the social networking system, things pertaining to rules, practices, and along these lines, not excluding a vamped up policing system of these new regs. Oh the story of late April of eleven is far from order, so if intermission is needed, go pee or poop and grab a candy bar or a soda or a carrot for those health fans, and then come back ready to hear some more. A group of US and UN forces, disguised and all ready infiltrated into the business affairs of unmentioned folks, brought all kinds of phony documents, along the lines of Trump attempting to ruin poor Obama and using this smear campaign about his not being a citizen, and using me to do it, you heard me folks. They think I am not onto all the dirty tricks played in both Washington, as well as all over Corporate America, and in the New York City UN Building. Well, think again LLLL. After the infiltration, certain ties were made all over different area and throughout different powerful clicks, and it was all done with one single purpose, and for this, the most money so far yet was expended, more than 895 million USD. The grand total now, roughly all things considered, and ball-parked, one point four B-USD. That's some serious cash just to keep me from my own wonderful daughter. So I a left to ponder, why this had to be done, and them, I know that they will indeed remove the body that I am inside of, it is weakening fast, and if I do not go back to Krassleville, I will risk being too weak to leave, and be trapped in a very ill and long lingering unhealthy body. So I am leaving tonight, and when Mark Mohr awakens on Saturday afternoon, he is going to wonder what the living hot shit has happened to the past nearly five years of his life, why all his stuff is gone, and why he is in the middle of doing these, by his standards, stupid projects in recent music, something he never really took seriously, and always was a mere hobbyist, enjoying writing and singing and recording, and not sharing his personal stuff with a soul for the most part. I'll leave him to his astonishment of where things all are in his life now, and I'll leave others to be in an empty void that will not strike them immediately, but when it sinks in, could lead to a life long depression. This is because of many things, both of us are old times at being accused of intentions and deeds not deserved. We are not saying that Bruce Pennock does not tell it straight and true, but we have been accused of things that seem cut and dry, like with poor Eddie Lynch, who merely had his girlfriend over to his trailer one day, and regretted that day for the rest of his life. A lot of good people are misunderstood, prematurely judged, and eventually totally hasted and despised. Mark will get his health back within a year or less and be as good as new, with a very hazy memory of things, despite reading these very words on his word document in times to come, without me in there with him. After all, he has a perfect right to get on with his life, he has had it all taken away from him, and now I am robbing him of what he would otherwise have been doing for 55 months or so give or take. There is the man at the Calvin K place, there is the man who built the small little thing that caused all of the problems for a city that had enough, there is the entire club that all meets at the Briggbase and then makes his poor life a living hell with endless poor taste fun poking and yes, I know the wealthy arrogant highfaluting words like crass and so many more, but don't have any desire to use them, I am all ready nauseous enough.



Well folks, it is 5:55, and also 55555555555555.



So let me crash for the night, and try not to have too many dam nightmares.





Oh well, if I am to have them then I will, what can I say here, Mister Jay Jay Evans, sir?





ENDING BLOG, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!