SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER================NON HACKED
BUT
MOST DEFINITELY ROMAN EMPIRE NUMBER DCXIV
AKA
ENGLISH NUMERATION, NUMBER 614, WHAAAAAA.
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“MY
MOTHER SAID I SHOULD NOT BE HERE, MY OWN
FUCKING
MOTHER FOR CRISSAKE, FOLKS, AFTER THE HOSPITAL BROUGHT HER BACK FROM
MORTAL DEATH”
==========(C)MARK
WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012========
WEDNESDAY
MORNING, SBT-DATFILE: 103112.364
WITH
OR WITHOUT HALLOWEEN PRIVELAGES CANCELLED
THIS
IS STILL THE FINAL DAY OF THE FIFTH SIXTH OF 2012 FOLKS, AND THAT'S
THAT, MISTER FRIKKIN ESOLPH, SIR!
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
I even try and begin anything, I want to make three thongs more
perfectly clear than even the ex and the late 37th US
President, Mister Richard Milhouse Marhouse Nixon could do, back in
the frikkin early seventies, ladies and
gents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First and foremost peeps, I have no ill feelings towards anyone
anywhere, that has not hurt me in a very mean way, and that was
completely undeserved on my part. If anyone reading any
of my MORIANITY BLOGS, were having any of the bullshit in
your lives, that has been going frikkin down in my life since I was
old enough not to piss my pants every hour, you too, I'LL
GUARANTEE IT, would be just as angry, and just as colorful
in language, and just as vengeful, despite the All
Mighty SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE claiming this trait
for only HERSELF, and hay, SHE RULES
THE EMPIRE, and has told us all this quite plainly, yet I am the only
one the message was meant for, and so, I am the only one who got it,
now you really must admit folks, STUFF LIKE THIS CANNOT BE MADE UP,
AND ON TOP OF THAT, CALLING IT INCONCEIVABLE OR UNFATHOMABLE, DOES
NOT BEGIN TO DESCRIBE THIS POWERFUL FRIKKIN CRAP, am I right, or
folks, am I right, or put another way still, AM I
RIGHT?????????????????????????????????????????? Pretty darn
clever to have one person meant to GET IT, and he GOT IT,
and none of you will ever GET IT, most likely, unless you really
begin to start recognizing Harry Potter
amongst us, right here in the land of the every day normal
average world and yet simultaneously forever hiding from view by way
of your own personal choice to allow this mask to become the ultimate
globally shared illusion, with quintessential proportions for
crissake. No folks, I have nothing at all against anyone unless they
have damaged me and my life so badly, that no words from a thousand
great James Patterson novels all combined, and more; could ever even
hope to be able to adequately describe, good folks. Why would I? It
would be pointless, senseless, and insane, and no insane person can
speak plainly and clearly, and you know that these blogs do. I am not
all over the map. An insane person would tell a powerful story, yes;
but then they would suddenly break off into totally off the wall and
unconnected ramblings of irrelevant other stuff. Some really
accurate and totally perfect examples can be found by watching on the
weekends, which is all that is left now of this greatest law show
ever created; the television show called, “LAW AND ORDER”. There
are a good four or maybe more episodes, where this is shown, and it
is quite accurately portrayed, as I have been around some peeps who
had better remember to take their frikkin meds, or getting the hell
away from them is a highly suggested idea. So if this little blogging
script, even remotely makes my point, that I am not looking to pick a
frikkin fight with anybody, or the innocent general population of
this great Planet Earth; then wonderful; and if you choose not to
believe me, even after a careful scrutiny of all my blogs in general,
and I am not suggesting you read everything I have written, as there
are indeed, only a few who have, and I know the ones who have,
believe me; I do know this, because I have ways of knowing stuff that
even the powerful peeps like the billionaires do not have access to,
even from all of their Bohemian Groves, and more; but my quick point
here, is that I would not have things any other way, you know, total
free will. Still, I hope that anyone reading me, would use some part
of a small bag of logic, and then you would undoubtedly come to the
only possible conclusion and that is that as I said, I have played a
DEFENSE-ONLY game of LIFE-FOOTBALL
with these WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE enemies of mine since my adult life
started, and if anyone out here knows how to win, or any team who
ever has won, in football, playing
DEFENSE-ONLY, please, pretty pretty please, comment or
e-mail or phone me, and tell me, as I know of none, not
that I am Joe Football, or am the biggest fan of the game
in the world, but shoot folks, I was not born at night, or last
night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that this point is
out of the way, two more things exist, that I feel a real powerful
need to clear up for the record, and as
lovely Lieutenant Anita Van Buren would say it so
well, again, on “Law & ORDER”; “RIGHT HERE, AND RIGHT
NOW”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, out of the three points I need to make, number one was done as
best as I could, bringing me now to number two, YO. If you are not
someone with a larger number shoe-size than IQ number, you will grasp
this, and agree with me. Nobody can read this blog, these blogs,
MORIANITY, or the words of the
MOUNTAINPEN, and not see that
even the mighty brain of Albert Einstein, could not just MAKE UP THIS
STORY, and on tiop of that peeps, if you take any place at random,
and then read that blog and the next ten chapters, you will know that
something huge is going on in my life and all around me, I mean
bigger than around any political person, giant rock or pop star,
wealthy billionaire or multi-millionaire, etcetera, and I don't say
this to brag, as bragging about a nightmare that one is eternally
trapped in, well; THAT WOULD BE INSANITY, and I
AM NOT FRIKKIN INSANE, but the person with that tin
foil hat Jason Forrest from the trees comment on my HATE-SITE, as I
have come to name it since I learned of its existence in early 2009,
certainly has his or her right to their opinion, and I wouldn't have
it any other way, as if you take it away from him or her, than we all
agree to take that freedom away from ourselves collectively and
totally. I may not enjoy reading stuff like that, but let me tell you
something, friends and fiends out here. Everyone from my super
daughter to the Pope, the President, and all of the celebrated
personalities, all get criticized, and many are thought of as pretty
much not all that far away from my category. This is why I do not
read the rags. Now back last summer while standing at a Winn Dixie
Grocery Store check-out line, I could not miss some rag saying that
Bill Clinton was dying and he hoped that he would see his
grandchildren first, or something that was boldly printed on the
headline page, unmissable; and yes, like a total jerk off; I blogged
it, and it was more internet garbage and
stupidity, and then they call me nuts and insane and
screwed up, like WOW folks, I have nothing to worry about, and as I
said, enjoy your opinions of me, good, bad, indifferent,m or as
Congressman Rob Andrews would say as a teenager in 1975, “WHATEVER”,
down in Albert Pileggi's music band practice basement, two blocks or
less from where I had attended the 7th and the 8th
grade, at the Haddon Township High School,
a few years earlier in the late nineteen-sixties, YO. But finishing
out my second of three points here folks, my
blogs just COULD NOT BE FAKED IF I TRIED, not even
Einstein could make this all up and do all of this, I promise you
peeps, not in a million mother frikkin ass
years, YO!!!!!!!! Yes, high to all
of you, I remember every one of you, thank you for thinking of me,
I told you all my endless cycle, and that my true age as a result was
a large number, and you laughed and thought it was funny, well, here
I am, just as I said, speaking of Pileggi's house near the old
school, DUH! Now to be sure the second point is fully explained here,
I will show you just a two blog example, and you be the judge. Forget
the Copper Kettle fudge, as all the shops in Atlantic City are closed
right nbow. I cannot believe the enemy forces would be stupid enough
to name those two hurricanes that are in alphabetical order coming
back to back, as they did, for my 1983 situation with the two peeps
on my telephone, RALPH and SANDY, and let me touch on names for the
peeps that did not graduate high school, speaking of high school so
much today. If your name is MARTIN, and it is a last name or
Sir-Name, as the first name is also known as our CHRISTIAN-NAME, this
MARTIN is a root name. In America, two basically English and or cauk
peeps marrying and having offspring, would maintain the name Martin
until a child down the line eventually married into say the Spanish
or the Italian line, a male child who keeps the name in this country,
and even still, down the line a ways, if they marry a girl from our
neighbors to the south, this name may become Martinez. Still, in all
three cases, the name root is Martin, whether it be MARTIN, MARTINO,
or MARTINEZ. It is the suffix or ending part, that alters, not the
root part, adding an “O”, or an “EZ”, or remaining its root
with nothing added. I only go into all of this because they named the
previous Hurricane, with the Spanish Suffix, but the root name, is
indeed, RALPH, so then after RALPH, came SANDY. When I saw this on
the internet late last year, on a page where they show the names of
the following year's hurricanes from the A-Z, I knew immediately,
that SANDY was going to be another “homes floating in the Barnegat
Bay” storm like in the early sixties, you kiddies under sixty out
here, are clueless to this basic averaged out cycle of twice per
century deal, but I knew we were DUE, and them, I knew the name thing
would just not go by without causing a disaster. I told you all, that
a real bad thing would indeed happen later this year, it is on my
blogs from spring or summer somewhere, for anyone to find. I knew it,
I could have said all of this back then, but why? I am not here
trying to impress anyone or claim to be anything but the prophet of
NOTHING, are you one too, Stabler and Benson?, and the 'other PP',
who is ten trillion times more gorgeous, so no one would ever mix up
my two PP's,
WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now the
final point deals with 1983, the days of Ralph and Sandy when they
were not hurricanes, just as Albert Pileggi in 1975 dealt with the
Andrews's who were not yet famous congressmen, and on I could go.
Being around me, causes folks to shoot to the top, or sink to the
Mike Gutherman bottom, and I have noticed this all my life. Some kind
of force surrounds my being, and if you hang around me, you will
either go all the way up or all the way down, whether James T. burr
chooses to believe any of this, or not, or anyone else for that
frikkin matter, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can only
toucvh on it as telling it all would be a book as large anything
Jimmy P. would write, and time does not permit that right now.
However, earlier this year, I decided to take a 1983 song I'd writte,
called, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, and an old telephone
conversation in 1984 with my daughter as a teenager, and a sampler
and vocoder, and get her to sing a harmony track for me and re-write
the song that was once called, “Girl, I'll Tell You anything”.
She knows at least three reasons why I chose that song to do this
with, and anyone close to her can ask her, and if she says I am
lying, then she is, because SHE
KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still, my third point for my blog of this day is this: I will cut and
paste in just two blogs, during my period where I had all my stuff
taken on the Hutchinson Island beach back on Watergate Day, speaking
of my old pal Tricky Dick Nicks, and what I want you to see, is how
my life is absolutely like nothing else anywhere, even to the point
of defying a powerful biblical scripture, that states that nothing is
uncommon to man, or put simpler, I cannot possibly be going through
this life, as it is too beyond anyone's grasp, anyone, anywhere, on
Planet Earth, and even PP, the non-super gorgeous-PP that is, told me
one day in the late nineties, while we
were operational as STUDIO PARK RECORDS, and I'll
quote the son of a bitch, “Mark, your problems go beyond mankind
and religion”. This is most likely the one thing out of his mouth
to me, ever; that had real validity, and wasn't one of his many
hundreds of promises and predictions of things that never came to
pass. 1983, just as with 1986,
was very very very frikkin powerful as so far as my WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
enemies are concerned, with me and my life. They all knew back in the
beginning of the nineteen-eighties, that all of this was part of
something that goes beyond human reasoning, as many of my WOMO peeps,
are part of the supermind system as you all have heard me discuss
over and over again, good folks; and I refer to, yes, the
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS.
Now L-4, we can CAP in the
two blogs, so you will see this as one long blog, but I will post
this one and then the other two, in reverse order, so it all makes
sense, if I am right, I will be posting this blog last, and start by
posting these two in a reverse dated order, they both were done on
Watergate Day, as I said before, the 17th
day of June of this year. Let us hope this works. If it does, you
will see, suddenly at Walmart, or maybe not suddenly but more
gradually and not at Walmart, what I'm trying to say here today, with
all of this. Before I close this out, I want to say that I went to
sleep early last night, it was not even dark yet. I slept from around
just past four until about a half past eleven last night, then got up
and did the other blog CAP work with the OLD
TESTAMENT MORIANITY-BIBLE FOR MILLENNIUM-3.
I had beautiful interactions with the great Sarah-Stacey Jehovah
Krassle, even though for the majority of the time, she did not take
her giant teen girl form with the long brown hair and her huge brown
eyes, standing in flat feet, at a full 79 inches. Still, I had a
great time with HER, as the ATLANTIC
OCEAN. SHE is so
awesome, and I will love her to death. I always have, and I always
will, I may not understand what she has done, coming here as Sarah
Nurockey and then MC, but you know folks, all that matters is that I
obey this awesome Goddess Scylla, and keep her happy. Anyone who ever
read the entire Old Testament of the non-Morianity-Bible, know that
you don't wanna' fool around with this incredible all powerful empire
ruling teen queen GODDESS. IWALU,
MY-SCYLLA, no matter what!!!!
Saying
End Transmission is not fitting here, as this will be in-between a
three blog all-in-one CAP or cut and paste job.
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0456
KING
CURSEDBYSATAN BABYLONIAN NEW SHOES
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
061612.006, STARTING SATURDAY MORNING
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-FOUNDATION
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“TWO
WASTED LIVES, CURSED BY HUNTINGTON-SATAN”
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR
©
2006-2012 MWM/MWM/MF-2/BOM
SWORN
VOLUNTARY OATH AND LEGAL DYING UTTERANCE.
WE
ALL ARE DYING FROM THE MILLISECOND WE'RE BORN.
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
I
tried very mother fucking hard to get out of this building and move.
Everything that I mother fucking did failed totally and miserably.
You cannot fight the HUNTINGTON CURSE.
My cunt lapping miserable neighbors are making my life hell and all I
can think about now is how I can fucking cunt commit suicide, but
there is no way, not with the mother fucking cock sucking World
Laboratories up in the dirt ball future, scanning back before I do
it, making a digital copy, and popping into a time just past where I
commit the deed, and send a disintegration signal simultaneously to
the dead body that was me before I offed myself. You can see the shit
ass nightmare hell I'm in folks. For the scoffers, fine, you go cunt
lapping back 400 years, and start telling about jet travel across the
globe in hours, going to the fucking moon, internet, other global
communications, the personal computer, the modern medical
breakthroughs, and on and on we could go here, and you all fucking
know I speak the fucking truth, and you know they would call you
either crazy, bewitched, or both, and you would end up tossed into a
tower room or a sanitarium forever. Laugh all you want at me mother
fuckers, THIS IS ALL REAL. I CANNOT DIE, AND ESCAPE THIS, AND IT IS
BEYOND HORRENDOUS; AND I AM STUCK FOR 19 MORE YEARS, IN THIS HELLISH
GAME, THAT LITERALLY IS UNFATHOMABLE, AND INDESCRIBABLE; WITH ANY
NORMAL ENGLISH DICTION AND VOCABULARY.
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Shall
we move this fucking bull-shit nightmare tale of woe times ten to the
exponential value of a thousand, onward???
I
AM NOT ALLOWED TO MOVE, BREATHE, HAVE ANY FREEDOM TO OPERATE AT ALL,
OR DO ANYTHING WHATSOEVER; UNLESS I AGREE TO BEING MAJOR HARASSED,
AND PERSECUTED. As soon as I fucking posted a few things from my
YOU-TUBE CHANNEL, up onto my blog websites earlier, within one minute
of shutting down my mother fucking computer; all of DOGTOWN or you
would say, HELL, broke fucking loose. All of my neighbors began
slamming doors and playing loud music, and this went on for an hour
or so, and then it stopped, all of it, in the spookiest way you could
mother fucking imagine. Then one minute of silence passed. THEN BOOM
and dogfood consumption with car dings, the phone rings. All I can
tell you is just a few things, nothing more than that peeps, so try
and do an Annie Wilson's mother with me, and be somewhat
understanding of my unspeakable fucking eternal plight of ultra
horror and terror, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All my
plans to get out of the building in two months, went up in smoke. You
only need to know this much, along with some weekend plans, just
POOF, but so dependable as always, just like Merlin the Wizard. Oh
well, at least I don't have to infuse the double bubble potential
situation here, in with any lizard, or blizzard since Florida has no
weather that is conducive for bad snow, and all though it is
literally infested with car insurance dirt bag salespersons, posing
as gecko's, from the git bag General Insurance Company, or GEICO, I
rarely run into them by staying indoors a lot, keeping the place
sprayed and clean, and when I do go out, I stay as far away from
shrubbery as possible, as these twisted little stinky runny worms
have an affinity with this over the area of the asphalt jungles. No
folks, this HC will not allow me to ever live any kind of a life, or
do anything at all. A few things amaze me, and smart folks know what
I am not saying for my own good, but that yes, this has been Gottwald
Permitted or GP to go this far without my being literally thrown into
the pit of fires of nuke fusion. There is no way my neighbors are all
speed reading through my post ups, and can all get together and begin
an organized and intelligently launched unified assault against me,
the way that it all went down, late last fucking cunt evening. Yet it
did. This is called, the OPEN REEL 'MY' SYNDROME or for short, the
ORMS, and it's nice and easily pronounced in a shortened
abbreviation, as well, peeps, YO. What is ORMS? Well, besides the
greatest female recording artist on Planet Earth all ready totally
knowing what it is, and me; I am not sure who else really has much of
a clue. In fact, speaking for myself, I may have a clue, but that is
all. Really, how could I magically write song lyrics in STM,
(Space-Time-Mind), that make so much sense, back in 1983, such as
with the tune called, “657-BLUES”, that go, “Nineteen years
have come and gone, and all that's left is our sweet song”? Hay,
maybe I really did think I knew most everything, until SHE showed me
the songs we'd sing. Who can really know, quantum waves, breath
echos, or perhaps seventh dimensional circuitry that lays so
mysteriously and dauntingly, above the sixth dimension of MIND? Go
ahead Einstein, just tell me that one James T. Gloucester Burr, with
or without your star-ships or other fantasies. I have a very special
message for the great and wonderful Leticia Tilley, of
EHCYNJUSAESMWG, “HAY GIRL, I'll tell you
anything”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What does
the freaking United States Copyright Office have to say about that
one, Miss AT&T Blake, YO?????????????? DUH!!!!!
Let
me tell you a little something, since I promised to tell you
anything, broken rudders, and stopping and going at various speeds,
and all. THIS ENTIRE WASHCLOTH FAMILY %*&%$%$**$^$* and
%*(&@%!@$@%#^(+*% and $%^&^#&.
Now
that has been said, let me move this along again good peeps of Planet
butt-wipe Earth, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
have never asked for any of this. All I ever wanted was to live a
normal average life. There are folks out here who think that they
know me real well, AND THEY DON'T KNOW MOTHER FUCKING JACK SQUAT DICK
SLOPPY about me, that will shout out that I enjoy ranting on, and
enjoy living a tempestuous life filled with intrigue and mystery, and
wild crazy unsolved bull-shit. This proves one thing, world. These
folks saying and spewing this all over the internet, do not know a
thing about me, and can all go straight to mother fucking cunt eating
hell at the speed of light cubed, cubed, and
cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eat me Ray Bailey,
Eat me April, Eat me all of you, beat me, fleece me, grease me, BG
me, and McKinnon me, if you all so insist upon doing so relentlessly,
MISTER HOWARD SOLOMON, AND RIAA, AND OTHERS; YO; but I'll say this in
my own dam defense, YO!!!!!!
IN
MACY'S WINDOW NEXT X-MAS EVE, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH MY ASS,
THAT IS FIRST. SECOND, IF IT TAKES ME A QUATORADECILLION FUCKING
CENTURIES, I WILL FIND A WAY TO EXACT MY REVENGE, AND PUT EVERY ONE
OF FUCKING YOU THAT IS BEHIND MY MISERY, IN 1000 TIMES MY PAIN AND
AGONY FOR A TRILLION TIMES LONGER, AND FINALLY, THIRD, GO BACK TO
NUMBER ONE AND JUST KEEP LOOPING THIS CYCLE, WITH OR WITHOUT ANY
DAVID ROTH'S OR WILLIAMSTOWN, NEW JERSEY HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS. Cheer
up Kirsty Ass Hole Alley Toothfairy Robber!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
for the good stuff. The REALLY
good
stuff, folks.
I
hinted at a few things, but the attack tonight and beyond that ruined
a lot of long made plans, AND AS USUAL, or SOSO-WEIN-SSDD, this has
provoked fucking me to take some more serious fucking ass action.
Yes, I stopped my LIFE JOURNAL ON CASSETTE TAPE, IN THE SUMMER TIME
IN 1997, but it became MORIANITY'S NEW TESTAMENT. The old one was
written in late 1995 and into early 1996, containing about 63 or so,
C-90 CASSETTE TAPES. Now the corresponding tape numbers of the Life
Journal, got as high as into the low 13 thousands, and each side, A
and B was a number, so the actual tapes were less than 7,000. When
the blogs are added, if the quanta waves had a reality where this was
read onto tape, it would climb higher, even though the actual Life
Journal cassette tapes were all lost along with everything else, when
the great mighty, 'THAT WASHCLOTH FAMILY OF 1970', did me in, in 2008
and 2009; and looking back, it is so clear and plain to see that this
was all a part of SCYLLA'S PLAN, but this incorporated way more than
I could humanly have ever been privy to, in any real waking world
conscious-mind type of way. Sagan, Einstein, and Hawking, all
combined; would not have been able to see this fucking shit, all
coming, and SCYLLA knew this; as HER great wisdom and omniscience
next to human mind receptive signal off of the D-6, would be like
comparing one drop of water, with an ocean the size of the known
universe, and this times a googleplex. So there is no cut on me for
not seeing this racing down the highway at me at the speed of
exploratronics. Oh well, at least the scientific community is finally
taking some of my shit in my fictional book that is not really
fictional, seriously, I speak of course of the 1994 copyrighted book,
called, “THE PERMISSION BARRIER”. But let me not stray too far
away from the point of the real quantum entanglement situation
involved, and that is part of the ever ongoing process of my 1986
parallel event and my casino gambling, and my applying this
technology to the game called Roulette, and winning consistently, as
a result, until the HUNTINGTON CURSE, WAS TRIPLED AGAINST ME. Not
one, but three of Jesus' Gethsemane Garden Cups, were thrown at me,
along with Paula King's Incollingo Poison Yellow Transdimensional
Cupcakes, following my head on fatal automobile collision, all
described in perfect detail with nothing left out, back in blogs from
the first two years, and before my SKE (Stockholm Kidnapping
Experience), Roger Basketboat. Folks, it really gets no simpler. Both
A and B events attract their opposing counter entity with equal
force. If I had kept on reporting onto cassette tape, my hellish
life, caused by this horrendous Huntington Curse, after the summer
time in the year of 1997, when I terminated my journal, and desisted
from this activity,the Dow Jones that had been closely following the
tape number in point value, simply because the WOMO was providing a
precise amount of harassment and persecution on me, so that the tapes
would keep climbing in value number, and since that event followed
for a solid decade of time, the approximate point value in the blue
chip DJIA stock index, they kept doing this. Now if they totally
broke off the terrifying obliteration of my humanity and physical
life, the DJIA would sink and tank, forever. If I suddenly started up
the journal again on cassette tape, the markets would go through the
roof, endlessly matching the number of my journal cassette tapes. The
New Jersey fucking casinos, as well as Donald dickhead Trump, know
this 100%, and very personally. They would tell you, should you be
ever able to capture any of them, and give a truth serum to them,
such as Sodium Pentothol, not recognized in any spelling by the
sanitized Microsucks Spell-Checker system, and I can see why, huh pal
Alex Jones; but they will admit under heavy truth trance, that I
gambled in their New Jersey casinos in the eighties, and became a
real threat to them in 1986 when I applied the powerful knowledge of
PARALLEL-EVENT to the one game that they have that is very conducive
for using APE (Applied Parallel Event). I swear to all of this under
full penalty of libel and perjury charges. But who out here is a big
ass fool, enough to entertain the belief or notion for two little ass
seconds, that out of many many possible years of time, 1986 was both
when I accomplished a deed of such humongous and unfathomable
proportions in a 2000 year old family Morgan Collins lottery curse,
and BROKE IT; and also ran into a lovely curly haired teenager, and
nicknamed her MI or MY, whatever and however you may wish to spell
it, when my pal David and I took a road trip up north one night into
New York City, so he could go see his music group pals, called, “New
Shoes”??????? Something one of the great IMPERIALS said to me in
Atlantic City, when drunk as hell and I'll admit it, but why come up
to me out of a million peeps in the great world famous Atlantic City,
needs to come out, as Lieutenant Van Buren the great, from the
greatest law television show of all time, “L&O” said upon a
few occasions; 'RIGHT HERE, AND RIGHT NOW'!!!!!!!!!!!! This short
fellow sang one of his songs to me outside the Trump Taj, I knew who
he was, nobody could fake the voice and the face that perfectly, hell
my samplers can do a voice, but a face, wow, so let me tell the world
what he may or may not remember saying to me. He took my arm gently
and moved us to an area where no one was around, and it was late and
dark, other than for the glittering lights and booming sounds and man
made stars such as himself; and he told me that he and his wife had a
big blow out upstairs, and that he knew me, and that if I would take
him to his club in Manhattan, he would rock my world by telling me a
huge secret that the world of the RIAA is covertly buzzing about at
the top. I never took him and just found a way to lose him, and I
drove home, back to my rented house in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, on
route 561, owned by Misses Meeker. In retrospect and hindsight, what
else could he have meant, other than six years or so ago, it was my
daughter who I had met near his club. What, I was born at night, just
not last night, well, that is a lie folks, I was born at 9:30 in the
morning light, not 12 hours later, like my wonderful Princess was, on
the last day of 1948. You offend me Jason, that you would do all of
this, in the name of the great Donna Summer, you turd. Bite it off,
BRO.
In
a final topic folks, this blog is not going as planned, just as my
life is not as well. The minute you plan anything, the quantum foam
is immediately a part of the equation. Playing roulette for many
years, was a far greater educator for me, than a team of think-tank
science peeps in any university ever could have been, in the field of
QM, as lab science and street science differ as day and night do. QM
as a matter of fact, is the one discipline out of all of them, that
recognizes that particular truth infinitely more than any of the
other disciplines of the scientific world all combined could ever
hope to do.
I
cannot believe how SSJK has played this mind bending game with me now
for 50 months or so. In truth, SHE is one very bored and wild young
teen goddess. Being endlessly 16 years old must be one heck of a
surfboard ride, no matter 'how' Diana's friend wants me to lug the
thing around on middle April spring days, such as in 2001, 'HAL'.
Those folks that do study the mind sciences, or the human brain,
whatever; have many ideas of the behaviors of the subconscious. I
know one thing that is not explainable. Tiny as my view amounts are
on my You Tube channel, the highest views, don't contain just the
song, but an opening. It is not the opening for its own sake or what
is contained in it, that is making the views higher, verses the
others. If you average it all out, the three with the openings,
verses the other posts without them, the counts are two or more to
one. If peeps consciously knew what was happening, they'd be viral,
but it still proves a lot of stuff to me about how the powerful
non-normally conscious mind does indeed operate with such magical
efficiency, in parallel realms. Remember, that what the mind doctors
think of as dreams, is just conscious mind, in a parallel setting,
speaking in the atomic sense. This is all that exploratronics is all
about, no more, and certainly, never any less.
Well
Jane Bitchweeds Twistedisease Oneslover, again, I friggin' find
myself looking at four freaking 'ones'. I am on page eleven of
eleven, on my frikkin' word document open office system. So folks, I
will need to freaking compensate, won't I, YO?????????????????
55555555555555555555555
plus 5555555555555 times 5555555555555 divided by 5555555555 is equal
to, who GIVES a RATS
ass??!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION FOLKS, WHAAAAAA.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0457
KING
NEBNOOSCREWED STOLENSHOOTAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“WOMO
ENEMIES OBLITERATED MY FATHERS DAY, WITH
SOME
MAJOR CRIMINAL ACTIVITY, PERPETRATED ON ME”
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE AND TIME FILE, (SBT-DATFILE):
CH-0457-061712.803.555555555555555555555
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR
©
2006-2012 MWM/MWM/MF-2/BOM
VOLUNTARY
OATH OF TRUTH TAKEN BY ME ON THIS DAY
DYING
UTTERANCE AND DECLARATION
I
AM BEING KILLED AND MURDERED, EVEN AS I SPEAK, AND SWEAR TO THE
VALIDITY OF THIS, UNDER FLAG, AND MY ENDLESS ETERNAL GREAT GODDESS,
SARAH KRASSLE
IF
ANYTHING ON THIS BLOG BE A LIE, OR IN ANY WAY NOT THE TRUTH, LET ME
BURN IN NUCLEAR FIRE ENDLESSLY.
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
RED
ALERT---------RED ALERT----------RED ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
enemy destroyed me today, and when else, BUT ON FREAKING FATHERS DAY.
YES LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I REALLY HAVE SOME POWERFUL MOTHER FUCKING
IMAGINATION,
“WOW”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
went up to South Hutchinson Island, to visit Mikey Patterson this
afternoon, and WAS ROBBED ON THE BEACH. Never since the lifeguard
shit back in Atlantic City in 1998 with the Sally Starr incident, has
this happened, but they saved it for today, not just any day Richard
Watergate Nixon, but FATHERS DAY. They just had to ruin my mother
fucking FATHERS DAY, and somehow, I knew that they would, one way or
the other, so it did not matter if I had stayed at home or gone out,
as shit can happen when you are the owners of the world, and they can
make the shit happen, and they do, and to fucking cunt me; and THAT,
sir Star Trek Equation Rockdroid, is dependable clockwork Swiss time
piece precision, in my life, and always will be, so it fucking cunt
seems folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me begin today with telling just what occurred over on fucking South
Beach, while I was swimming in the mother fucking cunt ass ocean, and
how my property and my rights were viciously violated, and wiped off
of the map. I left the beach-house, and wore my shoes, hat, jersey,
pants, and glasses down to the beach. Mikey assured me nothing would
ever be stolen in a million dollar ocean front neighborhood. Only it
was. They stole it all, my fucking towel, my eyeglasses and carrying
case, my socks and shoes, my undershirt and jersey, and a pair of
pants. To replace this, I will have to spend a few bucks, but Mikey
is going to work with me and wants me up at the fucking Harvest with
him in the morning tomorrow, to cry my sad story on Sharon's
shoulders, she hopefully will try and get most of these items
replaced, used, but that's fine; and new glasses, through my Aunt
Geraldine Snow Mason's dad's old club, the Lions, not gate, but let
us not start the laugh attack yet, lovely daughter. Then I am heading
straight over to the fucking FORT PIERCE POLICE STATION to report the
crime. It seems in this great wonderful new fucking age, it is
actually against the law to report it until tomorrow. If I call 911,
I will go to jail or be fined, and the normal hours for the police
are 8-5, and after that, you're on your own; so hay criminals, enjoy
yourselves; this world seemingly belongs to fucking you, oh yeah,
Alex Jones all ready knows this, I mean really mother fuckers, who
are bigger crooks and crims than Builderberger, and the Banking
Global Systems, and on and on; and 'THIS' is why these bastards did
this, so instead of getting a huge normal loss on Wall fucking Street
tomorrow with the world situation in crises, now by wiping out my
fucking life, AGAIN, they will soar with a huge stock rally tomorrow
in Manhattan. JUST TRY BETTING AGAINST ME FOLKS, I FUCKING CUNT DARE
YOU, IF YOU FEEL LIKE LOSING (YOUR) SHIRT, ALONG WITH ME; ON OR OFF
THE FUCKING BEACHES, OF THIS LOUSY ASS SIN CURSED PLANET. MIKE WAS
VERY ADAMANT ABOUT NOT CALLING 911, AND THE LOCAL POLICE ARE ALL
CLOSED LIKE A CANDY STORE. NOW SOMEBODY OUT HERE, BESIDES MY PAL
ALEX, PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS NOT SO FUCKED UP, THAT IT STINKS IN
REVERSE, AT THE FUCKING ASS SPEED OF COCK SUCKING DICK CHEWING LIGHT,
PLEASE. And you butt wipe sheeple want this (new world order), “WOW”,
you know all joking and stair chases aside, I cannot ever do justice
by typing the “WOW”, because only the perfect vocal inflections
are there on my YOU TUBE CHANNEL, search it on the YOU TUBE as KING
NEBNOOSHOO, then click the video called, “DEAL WITH THIS ANOTHER
TIME”, and you can't miss it if you listen real hard, she doesn't
say it real loud, but it gets the point across, as to why I use it as
well. Now we can talk a little about STAIR CHASE TAGS, old blogs, and
will start with stuff about the world renown New Jersey eats place,
called the MEDPORT DINER, back in the fucking spring time in the year
of 1986. A few blogs in the past make an error, and say the year
before or after; but I met David Roth in November of 1985, so after
about half a year or so into our friendship, we decided to chow down
at this place one afternoon, an “WOW”, did WE HAVE an experience.
Here, the real criminals are stealing my life, every little thing I
own, and you can count it on two hands, while I am there with David,
being persecuted and messed with, by the local police, for and I'll
quote what the Desk Sergeant of the day told my mother, later on,
when she telephoned to complain, “Your son and his friend happened
to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time”. Now it is your turn,
MI, OH YEAH, R-I-G-H-T, again, only she can really say this, it is
just type text on a blog page, and yes, I had a lot of stuff once,
and never even knew that I did; but THEY KNEW, and that is why now,
it was all taken away from me, like time to buy a 2006 Hyundai car,
and DUHHHHHHHHHH!
All
I can do is blare my Morianity through the PAPE ROACH QUANTUM FOAM
SYSTEM, AKA the PRQFS, BRAHHHHHHHH GREEN of L&O, and that will go
on until I crash later on, around 2 tomorrow fucking ass morning. My
blogs tell for 6-7 years now, not just on this tiny little half year
new blog after the hack job, with the URL ADDRESS of:
just
exactly how WOMO, and their evil wicked twisted sicko MILI-2-FORCE of
MIND CONTROL and total master-power OVER THE 99ERS, just how this 1%
scourge of sleazy sub scum squat, LOVE TO PICK ON ME ON ALL OF THE
FESTIVE OCCASION DAYS OR ANY KIND OF CELEBRATED DAYS OR HOLIDAYS,
INCLUDING MY OWN FUCKING BIRTHDAY, AS BEING ONE OF THE MOST MONSTROUS
OF THE ATTACKS, SPEAKING HISTORICALLY, OUT OF ALL OF
THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is something that has a QUANTUM
MECHANICAL life all its own, and is way too complex for me to even
think about attempting to tackle today and now on this blog of
SJ-0457. But it will come by the summer time somewhere, so know this
folks. I know that in a round about way, there is no way in hell that
my '' does not reveal that this is totally known about by her, in
that awesome terrific stair chase tag movie. WOW. I know you know all
about this MI. I'd have to be the quintessential village moron
imbecile not to know it, as you sent me enough signals and messages.
I just hate knowing that I added to your heavy burdens, as this was
never my intent. I just went to sleep and minded my own business, but
then, beyond that, things started right here in the waking world, and
I know you won't bother to deny it, as you are the most honest
truthful person in the entire world, and always have been. Hope you
read that great book about the transdimensional museum up in the
Jersey Harbor, down the street from where your 4th cousin
attended the middle school before she got, shall I say 'heavier with
life'. One thing I have observed about you and Letty, you do
something, she follows, or, she does something, and you follow.
Really cool. But I need to return to my Archie Bunker pernt for right
now. David Roth and myself left the diner that afternoon, and we got
into my car, and I decided that I had known him long enough to trust
him with what then, was my hugest secret, never dreaming that a real
monster secret was hanging over head like an angry and swirling major
hurricane. I proceeded to tell him all about the GREAT SARAH KRASSLE,
and many things in Atlantic City, New Jersey; that powerful forces in
authority and total control over humanity, as Kevin Trudeau says so
powerfully on television, on his many infomercials; that THEY DID NOT
WANT HIM, or anyone else for that matter, at any time, TO
KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Again, “WOW”, but let us deal with
all of this right now, and NOT prokrasslenate or procrastinate, or
WHATEVER, Congressman Robert Andrews, my old buddy, and wonderful
singer, from my days in-between 1975 and 1980. When I had told him
basically, the main stuff that when done in a compressed kind of way,
only takes about twenty minutes, KABINGABANGABOOMGA and
OPENPROGRAMULTIVERSES, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, ALL FUCKING ASS HELL
(DOGTOWN) BUSTED LOOSE, AND THEN SOME MORE, AND THEN MORE AFTER THAT,
FOLKS!!! And yes peeps, if you were to examine proven time-date
stamped old blogs, my shit was before their shit on TV, with their
incredibly lame and stupid ass show. One big bang, J?
All
day, huge CHEMTRAILS, MAJOR CHOPPERS, MAJOR PLANES, the MILITUFORCE
ASSAULTED ME, and had my stuff illegally stolen on South Beach. It
was done in tandem, and is in no fucking way imagined; nor is it
fucking cunt coincidental, peeps, YO. Powerful air siege was all over
the Hutchinson Island South Beach. These cock sucking jerk off
fucking computer updates that run whether we want them to or not,
really FUCK ME FUCKING UP. All my spellings that come up to either
correct shit, or to quicken the process by hitting the ENTER key,
seem to have been eradicated on my most recent update. There is no
way that I know how to prevent this updating process from happening
to my PC, and it really is fucking me the shit eating hell up.
There
is something SO FUCKING HUGE GOING ON WITH THIS SARAH KRASSLE FUCKING
SHIT, that it is going to fucking wipe me off the fucking map. I am
not stupid. I know that those involved know all this, and keep a very
safe distance from it. The problem is, and I am being very freaking
subtle here, did it work, or does it just keep making things worse,
by not tackling this thing together, ''? I always thought you to be
so street wise, and this has me doing a little head scratching
myself. Hay, I am reporting news, and echoing back stuff, and am not
the one who is begging the cosmos for police attacks right after
telling David about SSJKK, or Chemtrails doing things, from the stuff
Prince admits to, and has been spoken on my old blogs for many years
now, all the way to messing up great careers and great people. I have
always been searching for what is really behind all of this, ever
since December of 1969, when I personally, met the All Mighty, in a
“DREAM”, and then that dream, went onto instantly effect the
waking or real so called world around me, from the moment that I
'awakened' from the experience. Pretending this is not happening,
well, I just thought you were more street-wise than this. Maybe,
imperfect little me got another one wrong. Or, maybe you are working
quietly on a lot of stuff, and if this be the case, I sure pray to
you great Ruler and Goddess, that you let me in on all of this
someday. That is all I am or ever was, really after, and if you don't
trust my motives about that, then you never knew me, now, in 1986, or
perhaps ever. What a very sad freaking thought for me to ponder.
Yes,
this was a very mother fucking bad day for me, and why not, Tony
Zenun of HADDONWOOD SWIMMING CLUB of 1995? Y-NOT, TONY? You know, STM
is more than just what Quantum Physicists think it is in this present
day of laboratory knowledge. They are starting to get onto why I may
have written all those wild song lyrics back from 1980-1990, but they
are missing a very wild ingredient, and we just need not go there
right now today, on this exact blog. I will take us down
Prescriptionmeds Boulevard, however, just a quick little drive, so
let's go and get it over with. Dave used to laugh and even copied
upon occasion, the way that for no seemingly good reason, I would get
onto my LIFE JOURNAL on cassette tape, starting back in the middle of
1983 after my strange unknown glandular disorder struck me in a flash
without any of Irene Cara's or her dances of the day, or Jenny
Windowsmasher Beil's either; I originally took one milligram tablets
every four hours, until my doctor, Frank Addiego, of Westmont, New
Jersey, nearly 300 years before World Laboratories were built in this
vicinity; but he changed this to 2-Mg pills to be taken one in the
morning and one in the evening. But in the beginning, I would get
onto my journal and say to it, after I would take the medication that
kept me and still does to this very day, from choking to death from
some idiopathic and obviously chemtrail related hellish unrecognized
medical condition, and I would say into my tape recorder, “Popping
6-A Ativan, or Noon, or 6P, or midnight Ativan. But for reasons
totally defying any possible logic in July of 1983, before the Amtrak
Train trip to Orlando Florida later on in December, to visit Howard
the Chief Recording Engineer at one time, at the RPL Sound Recording
Studios, in Camden, New Jersey; when it was time for me to take the
medication at 12-Noon, I would pronounce it in ways that would not be
a great idea for me to blog on a day this bad, and during this huge
of a cosmic siege, with the gods of the Astral Plane, and their
system of power here on Earth, known by a handful of world owners and
controllers, as the LAMBRIGGER CULT, THE AWA, OR JUST THE BRIGGERS,
and my slang term for them is also blogged from time to time by me,
the “SHADOW-MONSTERS”. They are the only ones that know that when
you stare at a building in the late afternoon sun, that is casting a
shadow, that the only thing real is the shadow, and this shadow is
totally WHY, the building is here, because all things are perceived
in reverse, by the human race, a natural condition of the conscious
mind that endlessly does its job by dividing signals of energy by the
square of the velocity of light, letting us all live in this
illusion, and call it waking physical reality, when it all is just a
giant miserable fucking ass illusion. Even the great Huntington Curse
is pure illusion. But the shadow that is casting it, is no illusion,
and needs to be feared like a demon with a pitchfork, ready to shove
it right up your ass so hard that you would scream for a solid
century.
Well,
Fort Pierce Police Department, I'LL CU BRIGHT AND EARLY TOMORROW
MORNING, B4I DRIVE OVER TO THE HARVEST FOOD OUTREACH CENTER, UP AT
25TH AND ORANGE (HFOC).
I
am quite disappointed with you Scylla, you know that all I want is to
find the truth. Anyone out here feeding you other information is a
liar, and I will tell them that gladly, right to their faces any time
at all. Now I'll terminate this lousy blog.
NOW I WILL SAY, END TRANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAAAAAABIT!!!!!!!!!
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