Sunday, September 30, 2012

Love is for Carpenters - King Nebnooshoo


Hyper Massive Chemtrail activity over Alps, Feb 2012


Chemtrails 2012 HD TimeLapse Zeitraffer


Chemtrails of 1987 - King Nebnooshoo


Raw: Typhoon Picks Up, Flips Car


SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0578














SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0578

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294

SBT-DATFILE: 093012.657-BLUES

COINCIDENCE? DON'T THINK SO PEEPS.

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NYUMBER FOUR, (BSNF):

OTHER STUFF CONTINUES FROM 1983 AND 1984 TAPES”

© MARK WAYNE HATED PATHETIC MOHR 2006-2012

THIS IS A VOLUNTARILY SWORN OATH OF ABSOLUTE

TRUTHS WITHOUT OMISSIONS OR ADDITIONS TO THAT TRUTH, AS BEST AS IT IS KNOWN TO ME ON THIS DATE AS REFLECTEDE ABOVE, SO HELP ME FLAG OF THE USA, AND UNDER MY GREAT GODDESS SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE.



BEGINNING TRANSMISSION, YO:



I have powerful stuff to talk about. Also, I am under a heavy aerial assault today with one of the WOMO-MILITUFORCE famously used tools of their great carpentry kit of pure evil from the Astral Plane, the mighty PAWM-PIE-ETTOS. The day is super BOTBAR, and a lot of heavy amounts of young goddess type of girls, are all over the place. I was out getting my prescriptions at the Walgreen's Pharmacy, and spending my final three and a half dollars until the 3rd and what would have been my mother's 93rd birthday, good old frikkin September the third. My Dad was one week later on September the tenth, and my mother used to love to say how she robbed the cradle. I am not touching this one ladies and gentlemen. Somebody contacts, in my opinion, all poster's of anything chemtrail-related, and sends them about four and half billion websites to check out, showing all of us the error of our ways. He even mentions how Joanie Mitchel sings a famous song of hers, about them, from 1967. They are all through the HAIR movie4 done in 1979, the remake of the original hit New york Broadway theatrical original performance in 1968, HAIR. I also had Donna summer's wild version of this, done as a teenager, long before she ever did anything else,, now it belongs to the FBI via the basement of Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas. No SPELL CHECKER, if Ms Mitchel wants to spell her name Joanie, that is entirely her business, but hopefully she'll have enough good common sense back in time to stay away from some real lovely folks that her friends like Dusty, Carlie, and poor paranoid, yeah right, Janis, did not all stay away from, down in wonderful sweet and totally mobbed-up ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now Carlie falls victim to the errorr'd ways of the Micro-Sucks spell-checker computer system also, WEEEEEEEEE, new Bank Trucks, and fuck you too again, as if I want to fucking say ERROR'D, then that is what I'll say, you don't own me or my life, you silly ass fucking computer program, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, watch out for FIRE MCGUIRE. He loves to also destroy people's personal property, and tries to kill pets, wreck automobiles, and even though my credibility is total zero, my kid does pull a lot of weight, only she does not believe the great PRINCE, not me, on the jet issue, or what happened a long time ago. Unfortunately, I cannot randomly select what I choose to uncover, discover, and come to learn as fact. I disagreed with my mom on this, and never thought that I would disagree with her granddaughter, oh well Mayor Levy, who can know the future? Yeah right, to that one as well, huh your back-pain honor? No one talks about the OJ TRIAL, CNN VIDEO, that day, where some MILITUFORCE CRAFT, WARPED out of our orbit, as it is all there, and it really happened. Yes, I had the tape. Now guess who has this tape. Either the KING's, or the FIBBIES.











Do I know why the CHEMTRAIL ATTACK IS SO BAD TODAY? You can bet your ass that I do, Annie Costner, bodyguard of the Iowa cornfields. I HAD AN EXTREMELY INCREDIBLE EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION right before awakening at half past ten this morning, another one, what is this half past ten shit all about, I am left to begin pondering on quite philosophically, and perhaps even criminally? This also rings lots of head bells, as things tend to repeat in numbers, and in events; and on and on I could go on this very wild topic. Ten-thirty was choke time, on the evening of June 4th in 1983, where that all began along with Sabrina Collins from the REAL DARK SHADOWS SHOW, back when talent was real, and not all synthesized and copied, and who am I to talk in this great pot and kettle situation, many I'm quite sure are asking right about frikkin now? There also was another half past ten, also at night, on a Saturday, more than twenty-six years ago. I was with the loveliest girl I ever met, and ended up never knowing what forces had brought us together intentionally, and nearly had a fate of my own waiting for me, called Rikers Island Jail. For non, New Yorkers, there are many other things on this island, it is not just a jail, just in case anyone is remotely interested. There is something for me, about ten thirty, usually at night, but it can be morning as well, so it seems. In any event, I will tell the wild exploratronic interaction or as you might call it, wild vivid DREAM, to you on this blog, but before we do get into it, I want to discuss a few things that will lead up just ever so nicely, into all of it. The person leaving me a lifetime of information to check out regarding the CHEMTRAIL subject, needs me to say a few things here. I did successfully reply to your message, yours was the only one that worked. When I tried PP, I got all kinds of screens as he is a member of the AOL-INTERNET, and hard as I tried, I could not get back to him, SAR knows I tried. I tried replying to my new friend ADS, and also failed, in fact his entire comment on the WORDPRESS to me, vanished, poof, and that was that, fortunately for me, I copied down to frikkin e-mail address that he has, so I will at least be able to communicate once someone ever helps me. Things for me are not like Mister Knowso can ever imagine, because he is not me, just as I am not him. He does not think that I know the history of chemtrails. Most folks until this very year, do not think these things existed before the nineties, and I of course know that this is a lot of crap. Not only were both contrails abnd chemtrails around before the nineties and before my problem with them began in either the end of november or the start of December, in the year of 1987, but in fact, they do show up on many Hollywood movies, HAIR from 1979 being one of them, and in the song done by JM in the middle late nineteen-sixties, she is indeed driving through the Western deserts of the United States, and sees her share of the very same grid pattern thickening cloud dissipating stuff, that is shown on the remake of the Broadway Play HAIR, and before JM sang her song of bedazzlement while doing some desert driving, there is history far beyond this. I have in my possession, both a contrail and a chemtrail, during the CIVIL WAR, Miss KNOWSO JESSICA GRANT, a descendant of our great General and later to follow US President, YO. This is because the same things that have caused the 'REAL GOOD GIRL' (MY) INTRO situation, and the trip from September 30th in 2008, up to October 31st in that same year, only a 31 day time travel, but time travel nonetheless folks, and the 6-9 rooms in a home I never saw ever, and had no reason to ever see it, owned by Judge Frank Raso of Hammonton, New Jersey; being shown to me by the greatest female recording artist on this planet, Mariah Carey; and the list goes on with literally hundreds of personal real actual time travel stunts that somehow are all involved in my life; are not something that the mighty KNOWSO Patrick Jane of the MENTALIST television show, or anyone else sharing the view that there totally is no way that anything beyond the natural order physical-plane can exist; is a total fool. What throws off the belief or disbelief, and also causes age old disputes and down right nasty arguments, is something called TRANSDIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. This is not understood except for, and by, a handful of top physicists. It explains why I can go back in time ten minutes and shoot myself dead, and it has nothing to do with all the other rationalizations made so far even by the greatest minds of the scientific community. Time travel no matter how it is done, even the so-called trips to the future in fast space ships, is not what people think at all. You would have to see the reality in pictures, words will never do it justice. If you take the video of a car moving down a street at this lasts from one o'clock until one minute past, and you slow it down, and watch it, this car becomes many cars and many time-realities, and all that is happening in or out of so-called normal or extra-normal travel throughout that minute, is energy of mind, transferring from instants to instants in a very very miniscule kind of a time fraction. As this MIND-ENERGY is moving by way of its very nature of its own existence as a sent signal from the sixth dimension, down into all of the 5th dimensional lower hyperspace parallel universes, a lot of things are happening that 21st century science is only starting to wrap their frikkin heads around at the top think tank and physics lab level. In the early 22 hundreds, the accepted reality of SPACE-TIME-MIND becomes understood, and this alters life on planet Earth beyond a million times that of the wheel or fire or even prostitution, if I can be allowed a little lightening of the load here with some attempted humor, good peeps. We can get back to all of this and more, at later times. For now, the chemtrail topic is indeed complex, and it has nothing to do with any one thing, and anyone who believes that something so big as this, can really be such a mono-topic, is kidding themselves. Without these chemtrails, it is difficult to use STM as efficiently, so they are placed all over everywhere, and until the nineties came in, folks were literally in their own zones a lot more, but they were all over the place, just less in the eighties, and less still before the eighties, but they WERE THERE, and I do know the history of them, and need not be reminded of this by any so-called all-knowing folks. This is all very personal for me, and I don't expect to be believed on face value when I make that claim, as why should a nobody be? I get it, I am not a frikkin moron. Now I want to talk to my new pal ADS as the next paragraph starts, and this will then work to automatically dovetail into the powerful DREAM from early this morning before my awakening to start this BOTBAR last day of the month, and many of my followers, know about MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE and using it against me by the evil vicious WOMO since 1986, just as they also use ICPE/PARALELL EVENT, ALL BRINGING ME TO ENDLESSLY SUFFER WITH THIS EVIL TRILOGY OF THE PHILLIES, FLYERS, DOW JONES DEAL!!!!!!!!



















Since I am no good with computers, I lost your comment, and you can re-ask me and I will answer, but for now; I hope you read, and are trying using, the great mystical powerful FASCITAR TOOL, that I explained to you, and the rest of Morianity, and not for the first time, on a near recent blogging text. The Fascitar can take you into a connection with the sixth dimension, placing your energetic awareness onto the ASTRAL-PLANE, where you can create an interaction, and by merely thinking anything, it is just all around you, as you are merged instantly into what you are thinking, and the illusion of a space and a time dimension are created right along with you as you do this. This is the total opposite of waking world life, where first we appear to totally need space and time, in order to then make an interaction, or even have a body that powers a brain that is able to generate 'THOUGHT'. This is why the PHYSICAL and the ASTRAL are planes that will never be able to be merged. They are as far away from each other as anything can theoretically ever be, but not in time, and not in distance, but in TRUTH. I do not say that because of this, that truth is a dimension, however it almost is. The zero dimensional void infinity IS TRUTH, and that is a LACK OF ALL DIMENSION. How can anything really be real? How can things be created when there is just void, nothing? They CANNOT BE. However, we can, and do, learn to successfully DREAM OUT AND AWAY FROM THAT VOID LACK OF DIMENSIONAL TRUTH, and onto the lower ASTRAL PLANE, where from there, we further DREAM DOWN into physical material waking worlds, or the fifth dimensional hyperspace, that contains virtually endless and countless '4-D' parallel-universes, such as the one right here where I am typing this message, and you are reading it. Well, we believe we are, when in TRUTH, we are always simply EXISTING at the void, or ZERO-D, and dreaming out and away from that, and into all of this, nothing of this is real, but it is one hell of an illusion, or a DREAM.











Here is what I was interacting with in my thoughts that were more real seeming than any day or night in so-called waking life, that I can remember. I found myself on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, and for a brief moment, the same dream or whatever, that I was interacting in back on the morning of the 7th of December of 1996, where the great Mary Tyler Moore was wearing her famous green dress and standing on a non existing balcony at the Trinidad Hotel, facing the street, as no balcony ever faced the street, only the pool and then the street or just the pool, but here in this experience there were rooms facing the King Parking Lot and McGuire's Hotel and Erin Bar, and balconies, and I had not yet met McGuire or talked with Misses Estelle Bassler, that all came in February and March of the following year of 1997, the year my mom fell savagely victim to almost a voo-doo curse type of outlandish medical condition. We can get into that, a lot more at other future times and blogs. The scene quickly turned to where I was up on the boardwalk at the Frailenger Salt Water Taffy Store where in waking life I spent many many times inside of throughout my younger life. Suddenly, the GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE was just standing there and we begabn talking as though the two of us had normal routine conversations there, every single day. I remember thinking of my life and not realizing I was 'dreaming', and thinking to myself while we were talking, “Why does this feel so normal and every-day usual to me, just thinking nothing of talking to, and being with, the most beautiful giant teenager in the multiverse, like it's nothing? Then we walked down to HER lovely shop, she told me to run up and down the street calling her name, and so I did this. Suddenly she and I were eleven years old and it was the summer of 1966. I was wondering why my left wrist hurt me and was all bandaged up. I then remembered that it was about six weeks earlier, when Bruce Walter, in Westmont, New Jersey, had chased me inside of my apartment at 125-A Haddon Hills, with a hellish tasting concoction that he had made in my mom's kitchen, and was going to force me to drink because I would not stop cursing so badly. Sarah then walked with me to her upstairs area above the great shop, that Misses Bassler kept insisting was not where I know it was back in time, when I would speak to her often from my Somerdale home throughout most of 1997, after learning she no longer lived after 1974 at 30 South Plaza Plaza Place in South Atlantic City, New Jersey, but instead had moved down to northern Florida, to Ormund Beach, a place I would come to visit a dozen years in the future on my drive down from Cifaloglio to Fort Pierce in December of 2009. The minute I saw the area, I remembered it from countless recurring and repeating very vivid dreams, but this is just an added foot note, and we need now to go back to the point that is discussing this wild vivid dream of just this very morning. I swear this all happened in this powe3rful dream, so if anyone does not want to hear some powerful truth, maybe now is a good time to move over and read the blogs of Martha P. Hallaway, and her Rare French Gold and Silver coins collection, or perhaps you might try the blogs of Donnie D. Dillinger, and his Life as a Florida Keys Painter; but if you remain here, you will hear some stuff, and what you hear may shock you a little. Hay, maybe you'll just yawn and say, there goes Mountainpen, as usual, honey, pass me another biscuit, and another cup of tea, and definitely one for my pal, Patrick Jane, the disbeliever. But before I march things right along here, I owe some peeps an apology for my stupidity, and I will admit that when I am wrong and all; spaced out over something, that indeed, I was, and will gladly say how very sorry I am for being a dick head. Please accept my frikkin apology. I came to learn just this very day, and hour, that nobody hacked into my YOUTUBE ACCOUNT. This is just a random tool button that pops up on videos here and there, so people can make them better by improving lighting or color and what have you, as most things on the YT are photographs and moving images, where this would all pertain to. I am sorry for going off and getting pissed over nothing. What a dork I am, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I took a two hour break to eat dinner and watch the local and world news. It seems that Texas had a little rumble all its own yesterday, a small quake. If you don't want too many nasty aftershocks, please back off this persecution, thank you, dick head twat chewers. Now back to my pal and my continuing message to ADS. It is now 835 millidays, today, the 30th and final day of September. The first quarter of 2012 is just a tad bit more than four hours away. As I said, I will try and tell my pal, if he is listening, on the BLOGGER site, as I don't regularly post on any other site now, as this one brings the most accurate recreation of my word document to the viewer. If this blog is appearing on any non blogger dot come website, and yoyu are not reading it clearly or print words crush together, then revisit me where each post is put up in order, by clicking the following web address:

http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/ and you will be able to see things more clearly, maybe not my message, but at least the printed words that make it up. Now, I will try answering what question I think you asked me, in fact, I think you already read my other message, and it may have inadvertantly caused me to remember an Astral Plane exerience as remember good friend, they are not existing in a time continuum there, and we are here, so when you think that you are remembering any altered styate of conscious thoughts and events, it has no time order referenced to you at the moment that you are remembering it. When you wake up and say, wow, what a dream, you did not just have a dream nor are you just now remembering this. All things exist in void, later being dreamed down into the Astrality of existence, a starry and lighter realm. Then later, we dream down further into all of these human dreams of caporial tangible material life that we call real or physical, totally in error, as reversing the truth just about always will equal or become a large majority of it. We see the Earth or any world we would be on as a flat surface. We see the sun going around us by rising in the east and setting in the west. It seems that it is quite normal that most things whether it be intentional or accidental, are all tricking our senses through some kind of reversal mechanism. If you could reverse the so-called smart money moves, all of them, on the market, and be wealthy enough to ride out the temporary swings against your positions, you would always win and make the biggest money. Everyone in a majority, guesses wrong. Reversing the majority concept is always going to contain more of the truth and accuracy of something. Now I believe you wanted to know if a shared dreaming experience in the hyperspace or down here in these parallel universes of waking world physicality, would effect or be able to effect the Astral. The answer is always NO. All things are first real and true in the void. Then in the Phase-2, they are always most real and ahead of anything dreamed down from there on lower planes or realms such as waking world 5th dimensional hyperspace. All that can happen in a reverse direction, is exactly what I think just happened, only I have yet to tell it,, my powerful full EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION OF THIS MORNING, with SSJKK, the All Mighty Goddess. I believe that because you and I have made contact on this computer, my friend ADS, this has happened. Still, until I totally know you and we talk on e-mail, which will be coming to pass if indeed one of two possible things is the reality of this situation; as since I cannot undo the accidental erasure of your comment while attempting to reply to it, only the date would help me in making up my mind or ruling one thing out, as if it is back this spring, and only because of coinciding initials to something, it would make one huge thing a possibility and in the quanta waves, only finding out that you are not the person I think this could be or have been actually, then we will eliminate one thing, and as the Quantum Physicists say so well, the half alive and half dead cat will be caught and no longer in the state of quantum flux. Either way, reality is reality. If you are still with me, alive, and reading this, and were thinking about the message that I just printed a couple days ago for you, then either way would explain what I used to call, the RPLDD, that we need not really fully examine right now. We will speak at more lengths about all this on future blogs, and I want to see if you have an active e-mail account. A lot of peeps tend to vanish out of existence when they communicate with me, one way or the other. The main thing is not to fear these Shadows from hell, as their food and sustenance IS OUR FEAR. If we starve these monsters, they weaken and even go away in time. If we feed them with our fear and give them glory, even as biblically spoken in scripture teachings and principles, especially in the religion and faith called, Christianity, then THEY TAKE HOLD and then THEY GAIN VICTORY OVER US, and only then, my friend. Now, since this still pertains to ADS, let me tell the rest of this powerful “DREAM” that woke me at 10:30 this morning with quite a bouncing bang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told how SHE told me to run up and down the street calling HER name, and how we ended up in the upstairs area above the Tennessee Avenue shop. She wanted me to open up the middle dresser drawer of a three drawer dresser, and I did, the very same one I had for many years and kept my own clothes in as a youth and even as an adult, and did not lose this piece of furniture until early-middle 1994, when I moved into the Highview Apartments, in Williamstown, New Jersey on April the first in 1994. When I opened this up, a large motorcycle chain was not inside this drawer, as I had totally expected it to be. Then SSJKK turned to me, as the eleven year old SARAH, who I knew from the middle sixties, and told me that SHE wanted the chain to be there, that I had it up in the future, and SHE went onto remind me of my two organizational mentor big brothers that I had had, Fredrick Hinger from the Philharmonic, and later, John Henningsen from the Campbell's Soup Company. She told me that John, the second BIG BROTHER would be giving me this chain, and that I needed to keep my strongbox unlocked on an exact date, when December of 1969 rolls around. I have no memory of any of this is so-called real or waking (life). I only remember the chain being in this strongbox, and then always locking it, as it also contained something that was not for my mother's eyes, or any other nosy person who just might be poking around while I was not home at the Dellway Arms Apartments, and was off at school. All I remember in waking life is the powerful DREAM where SARAH took the chain away on a beach, and then placed it into her middle dresser drawer above HER shop in that upstairs area, SHE seems to have some kind of affinity with 'UPPER ROOMS”, and then remember, MISTER KNOWSO know-it-all, that the very next day, was the day that I got onto the school bus to go to school, and suddenly, there was a gigantic three criss crossed perfectly angled CHEMTRAIL, that spread out all over the skies above Camden County, New Jersey, that early winter and early morning December day back in 1969, this was not some ride through the desert, nor was this some, DREAM, as others refer to things in reverse. Still, and trying to stick to the point here, in the experience that I seemingly had this morning, by my reference to waking world time illusion, here is what frikkin played out, my pal, or well, until the cat is out of quantum flux, this is a non touchable subject, who knows? I suddenly remember a lot of haze and trying to focus my eyes that worked just fine until this haze came suddenly busting out of nowhere and onto this 'dream-scene'. I found myself taking the chain in 1969, and bringing it to SSJKK, now back in HER true form as the six foot seven inch goddess from SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, HER great city, that in some ways mirror images Atlantic City, as though Atlantic city is some shrunken down incredibly miniaturized version of the 'real' thing. SSJKK smiled at me and placed it into her middle drawer, and told me that SHE will sing my favorite song to me now, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”. I fell dead asleep in my own 'dream' right in HER arms. The next thing I knew, I was putting on the best clothes that I had, a nice suit that was given to me through the AARP Program and the man Trevor Watkins who was my overseer there, and who had some kind of connections with the local area Salvation Army Store. I put on these really nice clothes, and drove in my car to an area like I never saw in my life. It was half inside and half outside, of something, it was, and it wasn't all at the same time, even for me, like wow, this was totally off the wall frikkin' weird. Then, I sat down on some bleachers, about midway up on them, at the left end of them when they are facing me head on. There were no other bleachers, yet they were on the left side of something, of what I just cannot pull up. Suddenly a limo drove up, and Mariah Carey the great recording artist got out with a man, some white dude about thirty to forty, with average build and height, medium length hair for the styles of men today, brownish hair that was slightly balding, and was dressed immaculately, as was MC. She was wearing the huge motorcycle chain around her neck in a triple loop, and she sounded more like a house pet than a person when she walked over towards me, as a result. We taqlked, and it was as though we had met here and talked on many ocassions. I remember thinking, why is this so normal to be with the greatest singer on the planet, as though this happened all the time? Then she asked me if I wanted to hear “the song”. I said of course I did, not knowing what was going on. Then she sang it to me, with her beyond beautiful voice. It was not a tune I recognized from anywhere in this world at any time, not even remotely. When this was done, she took off the chain and asked me if I wanted to wear it for a while. I was scared and told her that SHE is the All mighty Goddess, and that I had no business to ever wear HER great chain. She laughed softly and told me that this chain is a lot more than I have3 come to yet figure out. Then she touched it, and instantly it became a smaller more normal sized chain made of beautiful topaz and diamonds, huge rocks an inch thick that had weird shapes, and were all connected by this solid silver but now, quite thin chain. I noticed a medallion on it at the bottom, and on it read I AM 231. Then the next thing I knew, I was awake back here in this very room, and it was about 10:30 AM, give or take a minute or two. I have not had this powerful an interaction with the All mighty Goddess, in I do not remember how long, 2008 sometime or there about. This was the time they all began and just kept coming up through the Shop rite purple highlights in the hair dream that is on my blogs. Anyway, for now this is enough about this powerful 'DREAM'.











In closing for the night, my nabes are noisy, lots of doors, lots of activity, but nothing real super bad or loud, as though they know the limits and know that they are being watched.









Very interesting things are happening all around both me, and those around me, and all over the area, but I am just keeping my mouth shut for right now. Mexico may be just a short time away, and then again, I may not go there for five thousand frikkin years. That's on me, ZEEEEE.









ENDING TRANSMISSION, YO:

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Deal With This Another Time - King Nebnooshoo


SAFE JOURNAL REPOST WITH ADDITIONS


REPOST FROM THE FUTURE

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0196

5 PM, TUESDAY, JULY 19, 2011

ALL SUBTITLES APPLY

START OF BLOG:



I'm under a major fucking aerial death siege, dissipation chemtrail spatter, loud planes, low flying helicopters, all over, major attack at work, and all over in general.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



END OF BLOG:













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



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













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



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



WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.





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





















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
















Magnitude 6.2 - GULF OF CALIFORNIA

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2012 September 25 23:45:26 UTC




Earthquake Details

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














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

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0577










SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0577

TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

THEM AND ME, FOREVER 180 DEGREES APART”

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295

SBT-DATFILE: 092912.564

© MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012

SWORN VOLUNTARILY OATH TAKEN OF TOTAL TRUTH


BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:



It is Saturday afternoon in Fort Pierce, for me. It is not Drake Towers in Philadelphia, Sheriff Mascara kind sir. It is not San Mateo, California, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir, either. Still, this is starting out as another bad day, with the famous ASTRAL PLANE TOOL KNOWN AS “PAWM-PIE-ETTOS” from my WOMO-MILITUFORCE EXPLORATRON BRIGGBASE CULT ENEMIES, here in this waking world. At exactly one-eleven this afternoon, the door slammer across the hall woke me out of a sound sleep with a powerful slam, not at 1:10 or 1:12 or 1:04 or 1:16, no, but at precisely one eleven. 'THAT', kind android Star Trek ROCK, is not the equation; it is not a coincidence either. The last few days there are only two or three real loud slams, it is not an all day and night affair, still, it is as though they got revenge by doing it at an exact time so as my not being able to miss the event, and seeing the horrible time displayed on a clock. Well it did not work, as my mom always kept clocks five minutes fast, an absurd habit to keep her from being late, but I have seemed to have adopted this habit myself, now in my old age. Tell that to the beach goddess, as I said, enough continual persecution, and one day OTAMM will be eternally sorry, not for me, but FOR THEM. 555555555555555555555555555555 will compensate for that nasty attack on me. Next door is also messing with me, but it is not too bad, it is all within a more tolerable range. I thought things were bad when I was working, and now I have figured totally out, why WOMO ENEMIES hate me working and making a little bit of extra pin money. I would be able to go out when things get real bad around here, and break up the annoyances to a small degree. Without any money for gasoline to run the car, that is not only impossible, but literally makes it feel like I am in prison. I sit here day after day for six fucking months, thinking to myself, “Who did I kill, who did I assault, who did I rob, who did I rape, what did I do, so why am I in mother fucking dick licking jail? Then I think back further in time, and remember other times and similar situations, where at other previous times, I was in the very same sinking boat that I am now in. Then I would eventually find a little weekend job somewhere guarding some place, and pow, the enemies would make me suffer by pounding me with endless aerial assault, and a lot more shit done to me on the ground. When I occasionally was able to prove some ground attack was real, the police normally insisted on covering it up every time. How I can relate to the mother fucking poor UFO-answer seeking people. However, on one big point, I vehemently DISAGREE WITH THEM, kind Sheriff's, and L-4, and all others reading me. You see, they in their blissful ignorance are actually seeking to have an abnormal life by discovering aliens or whatever. I make no judgments here other than to draw you all a word picture, that will endlessly separate ME from any of THEM, those who are looking to find trouble, whereas ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED WAS TO BE ABLE TO LIVE A NORMAL AVERAGE LIFE IN THIS WORLD AS MARK WAYNE MOHR, whether anyone of you chooses to believe me or mother fucking not, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All my of my dam life, I try to stay out of trouble, and I try not to place myself into situations where this stuff would happen to me as a result. Whereas in contrast, those others who post videos on YOUTUBE, many I have shared with you my MORIANS, looking to expose the government or make trouble with the so-called airships that may not belong to the normal waking world airspace system, exposing secret groups or societies, and on and on, it is as though they are searching more for trouble or just perhaps some wild and weird exciting personal life. I don't say this to anger them, just to tell the truth, which does anger people unfortunately, and always has, leading to the crucifixion of one great religious leader who the world basis its entire calendar on today yet for the most part scoffs at as they do me, and why not, we are physically related, it is all in the family, Archie Bunker. I did not play down the boss I had over at the Harvest Job through the AARP PROGRAM, old red, AKA Jessica Grant, who got rid of me in the middle of last March and altered my life in ways that are beyond unspeakable and deplorable, forcing me to live in prison, as much as I may have hated that hard physical job, being a weak person and thus, mostly a security guard all of my life. I am A Huntington, a blue-blood, most of us are weak. Most ten year year old children can and always could, beat me in an arm wrestle. That is just the way it is. Dawn-Marie, mighty Highness King queen. In my younger days I could go workout and do wonders with gaining strength in short term bursts, but then I would totally wear out and give out, and within three years or so, little girls were pinning me in arm wrestles all over again. This is the way I am built as a blue-blood Huntington. I am what I am, oh great lovely and late, Dawn Marie King, and as you said so often back when you had me kidnapped under Stockholm syndrome in 2008-2009, “It is what it is”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! See folks, I am not making these things up. I am merely telling what has happened, who has said what, who has done what, and the resulting factor of me now exiled in a hellish doom, far from anything I am used to and always knew all my life, stuck in a roach invested place with roach putrid nabes, and a life filled with people who hate my guts and don't give a fucking shit about me other than to watch me or make me suffer. There was a boy dying of fucking cancer, on television, in the early springtime of 1983. How I will always remember him. He said when he meets God, he is going to punch him right in the nose. I feel the same way, only I know better. I don;t want to end up sucking weeds at the bottom of Huntington Bay for all eternity, listening to bull frogs and enemy dudes with strange number signs on their bodies. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, 2008 all over again, give me a break please, Elmer Fudd sir, thank you kindly. That huge star that went super nova recently, hmm, I'll bet that was that poor cancer kid making that horrendous mistake of punching god in the nose back in 1983, quite a show from Earth and physical reality space-time, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.



Ann King sits up there in luxury after doing all of this to me, watching and enjoying my 40 inch 5000 dollar television that I bought at American Appliances on the black Horse Pike in Mount Ephraim, New Jersey in late 1994. That big old clunker was one hell of a beauty queen television, and see, it still works just fine, and after moving to Somerdale, and then to Guthrie Short's mansion over in blue Anchor, then Hammonton at the Trailer Park, then to other three Hammonton homes where Ann and Dawn moved to, twice with me, and the final time, without me. Dawn only lasted a year after I left in middle December of 2009, and passed away Praise the Lord on January first in 2011. This is what people who wipe out my life will all eventually get, whether they believe it or not. They will pay the ultimate price for destroying my innocent life. They will get PAYBACK. So will all the peeps here today down in fort Pierce, as no one is immune. The Earthquake struck as I said it would, and the mother fucking crooked biased Mark Mohr hating media totally avoided telling the story, and this was not a tiny little quake, good folks. I said there was a quake coming, and it came. You can only access the information by going to GOOGLE and requesting 'latest earthquake activity'. Speaking of quakes, or Quakers, or even towns in Pennsylvania, the mighty Robert McGuire, did in fact tell me back in 1997 just as the other McGuire jets were roaring over and above us that day outside of his Irin Bar on the bottom floor of his Pittsburgh Hotel on Tennessee Avenue; that the local family had roots in Pennsylvania and that his father built the hotel in 1902. Well Prosecutor ADA Wirtz Senior, Carlisle is in Pennsylvania, and I was treated like a dog there when I traveled there with David Roth in June Hubcap time era of 1996, Kathy Gatherer, and so is the first mobile home that I lived in at ages six and seven, up high on a hill in the middle of a cornfield, and yes, the lightning dream was very real, Annie Costner, so go do some bodyguard work on a corpse for all I care, Kev. Still, I had lots of friends at the Richland School, Jacky Patteroff, Sky Cunesman, Jefferey Rosenhower, Tommy Coddonodo, Ann Reese, and Bobby Witherspoon, just to name a few, right Congressman?????????????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEE, where is mother fucking cunt lapping Rod Serling, when a man really needs him right there at his side, YO?????????? What other secrets does McGuire know besides this latest dig for Hoffa being a total waste of time, or even bigger secrets of this powerful powerful powerful awesome family from the stars, here to serve and be cursed, and even commingle, am I wrong car seller Moroni? Are you still the 10%-ME of the Mars Graphics Printing shop, old pal? Oh well, suck it up buddy, that wife of yours was hotter than the sun. If I ever tell the full story of the psychics, both in 1976 and again in 1996, the world will understand why it is better to believe that there is no unnatural order and so-called, 'spirit world'. People can only be so afraid, and then a human heart will literally destroy itself. Enough fear will cause a heart no matter how healthy, to explode, and the person will die instantly of cardiac arrest and massive heart attack. Send some flowers Frank Callio, you know where, only you and McGuire know exactly where, well maybe Trinidad Sat Sam knows too, but we can save those school bus rides for other traveling Julia White true stories that go beyond the permission barrier. I am thinking of doing just such a sequel folks, “Beyond the Permission Barrier”. If I ever do, and with all names and places altered, the world will still self destruct. You can think of it as the Gloomy-Sunday of the book world, only America does not ban things unless they are advocating government overthrow or detailed instructions for becoming a successful terrorist. Why anyone would want to hurt innocent people, eludes me. I know, I am hurt and damaged beyond repair, and I also know that I am innocent. Some don't think I am, and to them I sadly say, “GO SCREW YOURSELVES”. BYE-BYE folks.



















ENDING TRANSMISSION: