COMPILATION BLOGGING ON 02/01/2013

LATEST BLOGGING COMPILATION WORK, 02/01/2013

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER-VII

FEBRUARY 1, 2013, @ 2:31 AM-EST

MARK WAYNE MOHR, RAR-FTROTRBTR

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA-USA-ESMWG

© 2006-2013-ALL OF MY URL BLOGS

ACTUAL REGISTRATION ON ALL INTERNET

ACTIVITY, FEES WILL BE PAID IN MAY OF 2013.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

We will get into a few things today, as well as tell what happened yesterday. I am laying low for both financial as well as overall badness around me, reasons. Actually, one effects another, as most reasonable people would both see and agree with me about, at least, IMHO!

First off folks, and that is such a joke, but I don't really give a hoot-pollute anymore who is up here, but yes, ''IF-entities'' would be somewhat more accurately describing the situation; but in any case, and as stated previously; all of 'MORIANITY' is winding down, and will most likely be officially over, with a back cover on it; believe it or not; and before it is time to copyright all of my ''musical, and non musical'' internet activity, and by officially paying the online registration fee. It is totally legal for an already existing copyright owner, and anyone I suppose, to pay this when they are able to, and still affix the label of the copyright symbol along with name of claimant ownership, in this case, me; not you Amanda cutie pie, ME, but yes, then the years that make things up, and then eventually pay the fee to the Library of Congress. At least this was copyright law back in 1975, and I do not think that part of it has altered. The old paper way to copyright is now $65.00, in 1975, is was only $6.00, and this is the only really big change or reality-shift, and this alteration is very normal and three dimensional, as times change, and we do live in an infinitely inflating economic social and financial structure, called American and really now in the third millennium, global financial ops. Paperless online registration, unless it is upped between now and early in May, is thirty bucks cheaper, PTL, Pat Robertson, but then, it is a lot easier to say PTL when you're filthy rich, and who's kidding who? I'm an insider who worked in the fucking trade, so don't try and con me, world! For no good reason, the last two sentences just fucking 'poofed off', and that is why I AM swearing. Keep it up, smart ass, and a huge earthquake will strike the United States within 36 hours. As I speak, dirt balls in the hallway are talking, not real loud, but I have a lot to tell about these mother fuckers over there, all getting kickbacks very covertly and stealthfully, by operatives of Microsoft, but you won't be able to connect it up in any conventional way,l as the process is wiped very well. This means that when someone tries a track back to learn the truths, huge sanitized systems will block the real truth from ever becoming exposed.

All I can say fro right this minute, is that all of my concepts were totally accurate, merely rearranged slightly with the wrong characters accused and the right characters, left as always, in the blackened shadows, to operate in their monstrous horrendous evil agendas, to control the entire human race, and those that founded that corporation, were all around as a type of Napoleon Hill ''Mastermind Team'', long before any Personal Computers existed in the early eighties, or the internet of the nineties, or the great other inescapable initials for me, ''MS'' ever became an operational legal entity, on the Planet Earth. This is all an integral part of what I have been calling by so many various names all throughout my entire blogs of 7+ years, as well as long before that on my personal life journal that was kept on cassette tape, and some of the titles and names used, you all know of, such as; WOMO, the MILITUFORCE, OTAMM, the EW, and most recently, in its Astral Plane equivalents; titles have included such names as the Lambrigger Cult, and the very most current one, the INTERACTION FORCE or the (IF). Some butt wipe pounded on the door and shouted for a while yesterday afternoon, across the hall, and I do not believe anyone answered the door, yet a while later, all sorts of bullshit suddenly was heard by me, in that mother fucking apartment over there. I really was hoping that I would be rid of these dam cock sucking jerk offs, but here we go in a new month, and they remain. The only way I'll rid my cunt lapping self of these twisted scum bags, is to press charges if I can ever catch them doing anything illegal. All was so nice and fucking graveyard quiet for quite a while, until I asked the day guard about the night guard, who used to work at Dell, and the next noon, these bastards persecuted me. There is a Microsoft Grapevine in this building, and I know this for the simple fucking reason that I know that there is a Microsoft Grapevine everywhere; in league with 24-7-365.2422 World-Wide-Google-Earth, Satellite Surveillance Systems; and I could go on and on with this. Anyone who THEY want to follow forever, is not going to fucking ever be able to escape. They are so clever, that these pricks can even get other folks to appear guilty, pun pun pun, and carry there dirty laundry bags, while again; they endlessly remain in the obscure shadowy realm of fucking Stealthville. Things that I came to learn from this person, are FAR FAR FAR BEYOND BEING WHAT I DARE TO EVER BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that, coming from Mountainpen?

Yes peeps, YO; there is an ''EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND'', and no, they go by their own rules, and ideas, and names, and titles; but I call it this, as I am not a member of their very far beyond Bohemian Club in the cosmic realms of outlandish times a quintillion, and so what they actually do in precise detail, or call themselves, if anything; is not going to be ever directly known by me, other than as a traced outline that surrounds all of the never ending horrific bullshit that they do to me, womb to fucking tomb. I have merely somehow and quite fucking miraculously so, if I may be so bold to declare; survived an incredible and unspeakable fucking hell, and if a human survives enough hell, biblical language even backs me up here folks, hell will swallow up death, as opposed the more normal reality of death eventually swallowing up hell. Remember that bible verses are quite powerful, but naturally, since written so long ago, the lingo is not going to be all that modern and hip, having more thee and thous words as opposed to YO or BRO words, but on top of that, if a prophet saw a helicopter in the future, he will describe it as a large giant insect with big eyes, and wings that sound like many chariots. You must be able to realize all this shit is true, and see how to read that wonderful fucking book, while decoding it into millennium three wordage, simultaneously, YO. This is one way of describing my concept, but there is another single word to do that very thing, as well, good people. That word is ''MORIANITY'', AKA MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3.

Yes, both times that I was in the Security area in this building's lobby on the ground floor, the next day was some sort of bullshit attack with these very weird twisted strange asshole fucking nabes that I have directly across from me. There was some shouting today, and some activity that was annoying for a while, and it all began around a quarter past two yesterday afternoon, Thursday. It's now 3:17 AM on the East Coast of the United States, down here in Florida, on February the first, in 2013. It is now Friday morning, in all places in Continental America. As I said, I cannot tell anyone any real details about a lot of things, not and be able to save myself from Sarah's Broom, Ralph and Sandy, and all other Privecode and Microsoft related monster HELL. These wicked bastards can wipe me out in a flash, any fucking time they want, and make it all look perfectly innocent, just as they can make others appear totally guilty. I will never underfuckingestimate these pricks from ''HELL'' ever again, not in 2013, and not 30 years before that in Atco.

Beginning next week, things will happen, event by event by event. Notice that I absolutely told you all, and I demand my mother fucking props on this, that we would soon have the stock market back at all time record highs, and I even promised you all before it began happening more than a year ago, on these very blogs, that the housing markets would begin to soar overnight as well. You only need to know that shit is connected with me and my life that is so powerful, it allows me to totally know many things, as things have parallel-events, all things do, roulette, stocks, people, all things, all events, it is like the PRIVECODE, just not the great machine, huh pillow talking pops? All things have PCN'S, and all things have parallel events. Those not willing to see that as reality, are ignorant, and have never ever gone through anything close to what I've had to fucking endure and experience for many decades. Number 27, Route 27, big LIE'S, other big linelanes, houses of memory loss and nudity, and a lot more about why my Aunt Ruth Huntington; was all forced to happen in a precise Microsoft Mastermind Team controlled operation; is way to big and way too unsafe to discuss any further in elaborated details. Still, out of all of the search engines of Planet Earth, I talked a long time ago on my blogs about the Pathmark Shopping Center in Turnersville, New Jersey in Washington Township of Gloucester County, and HISTORY MARKERS, and how friends help those like me establish them, while MMTMSC and those in the inner-circle, do all they can to destroy them. This is not a new topic, but what is new, is the Firefox, and as I speak, some wild force entered my brain and made me nearly pass out, so I am indeed being monitored right now by intergalactic powerful forces, this is beyond mother fucking wild, folks, you should have this experience once or twice, then you'd believe me, mother fuckers. Yes, what powerful transdimensional forces sprang into Lauderdale John Mason late 1983 wallet losing action, that suddenly made the Firefox and the Babylon Search, all one and the same thing, on the internet? You have to admit it, if anyone out here is a real human being and not with the fucking NSA/CIA/FBI or whatever; reporting back to the BLUEBOOK of the non-automobile industry; hay come on, what the fuck is going down dudes and duddesses? Do you know, or you as totally wigged out and nuts over all of this as I am, Mister Marcucci and Misses Marola? And why did it matter so much that I HEAR THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE SAY ON 10-SC AVENUE IN 1969, that she is darker than her friend, and that other friends of folks in a car, were in the shop, a shop that the mighty Estelle Andersen Bassler insisted was on the opposite side of the street, and all of the many other wild 1997 events that connect up into all this mother fucking hocus pocus Frisbee twilight zone crap?

Now, let us begin with this blog, and work back, and make a new compilation of a number of prior blogs before this one, and I want even the mighty BLACK FILE AGENCIES to realize the magic of time running in reverse mode, at least in my life, and see shit for themselves, and get fucking lost Morty Mortino, or I'll fucking slug your guts out, you worthless bastard, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAA.

I NOW END THIS TRANSMISSION, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER-Vl

1:40 AM-EST @ FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

(COPYRIGHT) MARK WAYNE MOHR URL'S, 2006-2013

Well, ladies and gentlemen, no matter whatever happens to me from this day and hour forward, it is a beautiful thing to obtain fantastic proof, that I am not insane, despite those with contrary and counter opinions of that statement, found on that hate-site of me, that was created by Sir Jason Forrest, of WFMU RADIO; back somewhere in OH-M-6.

Also, I owe a lot of members in Ann and Dawn's distant family, a super major apology, upon learning that they were all used as mere pawns, in this fantastic nightmare; that is owned and completely operated and controlled, by none other than the INTERACTION-FORCE, AKA, the major enemies of mine, or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE.

I cannot share or blog the stuff I want to. There are two very good reasons why, really more, but two very very good ones. One reason is that not anyone who wants to help me in any way, or be of human service to me at my darkest hours; is reading these blogs, despite a nice size readership; and reason number two, is that it is totally 'UNBLOGGABLE'. I will say that I owe a lot of folks big time apologies, as for about 4-5 years or so, I thought that they had done me a lot of wrong, and even though distant relatives did not exactly do me any wonderful favors in some ways folks, in other ways, and as told in recent prior blogging texts; they have done me enormous good, while all along; not trying to do so in one little bit; but they did anyway; and I speak of Dawn King forever changing my desire, to ever date, or marry, or have a family; or even associate with anyone any longer. All the shit did not frikkin sink in until recently, but slowly and surely, I came to realize, and see, even when not at the great Walmart Retail Store anywhere in the world, yes sir, yes mahm; I have one thing in common with the great Greta Garbo, and talent is not amongst the list. But I could have all the talent in the universe, and it would not matter one teeny tiny bit. I also need to apologize to Google, sort of, and shift the stuff over to the real anti-gods of hell, and that would be, 'MICROSOFT'. Dave Roth was so totally correct all along, good folks. Shooting in the darkness, and out of season, may bag a few 'nothing-prophets' from 1988, and cause a lot of temporary cheery moods, and restaurant employee dancing; but it strikes too many innocent targets; and hurting the innocent, is wrong, and unconscionable; always. There is no doubt about it, Lenny McKinnon. I'll never be able to adequately say how sorry I am, since the early eighties; for a lot of flying bullets that missed many guilty folks, and struck down innocent blood. Also, I wish 'MC' only the best, in all of her endeavors, and realize that she was just brought into the entire huge three empty rooms, with the corners that have broken up floors; and glarry dangerous limo drivers, or whatever. I only hope that she can forgive me someday, for just following so many facts, that led me into a lot of misguided conclusions. I want so badly to admit to huge findings, but I just cannot risk people being further injured, or worse; as a direct effecting result. I want to show major things in mathematics, as well as give direct information on so many things; but it would be so hazardous to my health, and everybody else's, who ever would read these words; that it just is not worth it. Now today was my day of BOTBAR, yes indeed; but it also was something so much frikkin greater than just merely that; lads and lassies. It was my day of 'ULTIMATE REVELATION', backed up 100%, and even able to stand up in court, only I would never live to make it to the frikkin courthouse. I totally know this, and that needs to suffice, with this being said on this blog.

I do not dare thank the few peeps in the 'EW', who all this time went out of their way, to indeed show me the right way, and the wrong way; and even how to grow up, and face my fears; and get things straightened out once and for all. It will save me a lot of aggravation, a nervous breakdown, and most likely quite a bit of cash money as well, over the long run. Many strategies are all changed now. Smart folks just may be able to understand the tip edge of some things being said on this blog; but my advice to you, is to keep your frikkin mouth shut. You have the faith that comes from 'knowing', as do I. Let us leave things right there, good folks. So much makes perfect total sense now, that used to have a million holes all throughout it, like my mom's accusatory theories of 1988, and Moorestown, New Jersey. Yes, I am talking around a lot of things, but that's the way it goes, Sigmund Malyeska.

L-4, and others, I must now wish you a fond farewell for the time being, and just tell you that a few hours ago, I won three units, and quit ahead, and fast; in my paper-roulette. I may decide to teach the world the system, free of charge; as the math behind it is so major, that it may just disprove a lot of things now currently accepted, in the community of so called know it all's, in the academic sciences, and mathematical disciplines.

So nighty-night good peeps, and I may be slowly bringing all of MORIANITY to a close. I know that it is a total waste of time, and that the WO and the MO, have total control of what is made public to the masses, and what is forever kept quiet. Doubters of that fact, need only to speak to the many buffs of the 'UFO' phenomenon; not that aliens and saucers, have one dam thing to do with any of this. I make no claims beyond the fact, that this day was both BOTBAR, as well as the day of my awakening and total revelation. So wonder, and wonder, and ponder; but I cannot be more specific, at least for right now, L-4, so sorry!

*END TRANNY, LOVELY SWEET OL' GRANNY, YO*.

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER V

1:06 PM-EST, SUPER BOTBAR FUCKING ATTACK DAY

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY CUNT LAPPING FUCKING 30, 2013

MY NABES FROM HELL ARE SCREAMING AND SLAMMING, AND I AM E-MAILING DEBBIE MOROTTO WHEN THIS BLOG HAS BEEN POSTED UP.

L-4 folks, other entities, and whoever and whatever, Congressman RA sir, and old pal from 1975 and the Albert Pileggi Band, of Westmont, New Jersey, on Pyle Avenue; THE WOMO MILI-2-FORCE has struck me hard, at exactly 12 noon, right on the cock sucking fucking button, YO YO YO!!!

On top of these horrible cunt lapping nabes across the fucking cunt hellway, the WOMO has pushed that magic button of theirs, that my blogs discuss from time to time, called the ''TOOTHACHE MAJOR BUTTON''. Whenever they wish to cause me severe excruciating mother fucking agony, POW, out of nowhere; major pain in my teeth is suddenly just there, yet it goes away eventually with the same suddenness and totality of its original onset, normally anywhere from three days to three weeks. It began getting bad yesterday, but not enough to cause me to BOTBAR, and also, I had no problem with my sicko psycho nabes until noon today, when this entire fucking shit just EXPLODED out of nowhere. Obviously the DOW JONES has crossed over, with or without great talented daughters, the 14K point mark, and this is when my enemies go all out to destroy me beyond anything that I could ever even hope to describe to you people reading this, on some stupid fucking cunt ass blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let us examine these BOTBAR or wicked horrible bad days that strike me out of nowhere, and don't even try and look back, or cut me the smallest cunt eating break. Before I do explain this somewhat, HA HA HA, you missed me Miss Dirtweeds Notfondau!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is nineteen past one now. Screw you, and screw 1993!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ever since god dam fucking 2013, and I AM looking at my calendar now as I speak to you all electronically through this keyboard right now folks, WEDNESDAYS are the day of MAJOR NABE ATTACK. The only Wednesday that it missed, was a week ago, back on the devil number, believe it or not, the twenty-third. But the second day of the month and the year, January 2, was indeed a horrible Wednesday, and a horrendous wicked SUPER BOTBAR. So also was the following Wednesday, on January ninth, and again the one following that, on January 16. Then I'll admit there was a skip the following Wednesday, last Wednesday; on January 23. But on the following Wednesday, TODAY, mighty Jesus, KAFUCKINGCUNTPOW-ADAM-WEST-BATMAN-SIR, and this makes 4 out of 5 January Wednesday's, SUPER BAD DAYS OF WOMO MILI-2-FORCE ''IF'' ATTACK NOW, and on no other day of the week this year, was this the case. For cunt eating ass example, let's walk through the other six days so far. Total January 2013 Botbars or (TJTB) are listed now as follows, taken right off of my wall calendar where I carefully record all of them, for the other remaining six days. TJTB for THURSDAY are goose fucking eggs, a big fat ass zero, zilch, nada, zip; also stated as NONE. TJTB for FRIDAY is 1 and yes a lonely number as the old song goes, and one that I can live quite perfectly and enjoyably with. TJTB for SATURDAY is yet another lonely number, so far just one, and the last Saturday as well as Friday, have already passed forever by, this year; for the month of nasty rotten ass January. TJTB for SUNDAY is still another lonely and gorgeous number, again, with a 1. But hold onto your socks with MONDAY, as the amount of TJTB is NONE. The only other day that gave me trouble was TUESDAY, but only half the trouble that WEDNESDAY gave me, as there were a total of 2 TJTB days. Still, the big attack with these nabes seems to be the two days where RESIDENT FUCKING MANAGER, DEBBIE MOROTTO, IS NOT HERE IN THE BUILDING TO ENFORCE THE RULES AND REGS. Why else would the match up of the BOTBAR DAYS, be those same two days, yes folks, TUESDAYS and WEDNESDAYS?

When I came over to blog here, I put on my headphones and began playing my HU-CHANT, made by the great ECKANKAR religion; and something just fucked up for no good reason. The tape does not stick, nor is it jammed; yet it stops a lot, and will need to be re-dubbed onto a new blank tape at high speed; as this normally defeats the problem. But for now, I am fucked. This is now so far, the TOOTH fucking shit, the diseased sick bastard crude uncouth NABES fucking shit, and now this electronic or really, unknown 'UTILITY' related hack or attack. So now we have, count them Lex and others, three events so far, and the day is just starting. These fucking pricks over there woke me up with a huge door slam like nothing I ever heard, and since then it is slam slam slam slam slam, and lots of hollering and shouting. They began this on the exact fucking cunt dot of twelve noon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Today is considered to be a total-ground attack, so far, but that can change on a fucking cunt dime, and go from ground assault up into the air, without warning, but for right now, all three assaults on me by my IF or ''INTERACTION-FORCE'', labeled many names, as my enemies; but as of now, during all of this ground war hell, the skies are both quiet, and devoid of lines and grids and poisons. Many days back in Jersey, it would switch back and forth during super BOTBAR attack days, as if these crumbs literally were trucked around, and went from being USAF Bluebook Pilots, to these pricks on the ground. I know it seems fantastic, and I did say, and as all unknown things or magic tricks operate, by slight of hand and clever quick moves coupled with simultaneous diversions; I said ''it looks like'' or gave this impression. Somehow, I think I would bet a billion Trump lawsuits against beauty queens, that this is NOT what actually is being done; but it most definitely produces this illusion, and I'll give you all another wild parlor trick, every bit as unexplainable as tropical island fruit juice late nineties real good television commercials, or 'MY' 1986 song introductions, done absolutely with no knowledge of it on any conscious level; and that would be, my recent experience of nine days ago, over at the fucking Avalon Recording Studio, in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, with my engineer, Ryan. Now to get any part of this in any fucking shit swallowing meaningful way, lads and lassies; you really do need to expand your normal thinking processes just a little bit. This man was a pretty heavy chain smoker since high school, and was so happy that he had recently quit smoking last year in the springtime somewhere; and he was very happy on his electronic cigarettes. I believe he used the BLUES, for those smokers who know the various brands. Now he went away in November last year, and he did not get back until the first week in January. He was working at a sister studio on the West Coast of Florida, and then went up north to be with his Jersey family for the holidays. All seems perfectly normal so far, I'll give you that one, but it does get a whole lot better and wilder, so sit down, as I really don't want you standing and reading on. The shock may cause injury to your head while you faint and fall down, so please, sit. Thank you. I had done a partial musical project with him back last spring and into summer time, and am still saving up to pay for it so I can both take the CD as well as have him electronically register all of my stuff done there, with the United States Copyright Office. This makes the registration fee lower, to register online; and he knows how to go up on their website, and send the music data to them, and fill out the forms. He also will be taking down all of my 'YOUTUBE' accounts in full, when I see him next; but let us stay on point for right now, shall we folks? My 'FBK' is already gone.

We discussed how I was not all that totally satisfied with the way he synthesized my kid's harmony vocals, taking that old telephone conversation where she tells me, ''You'll be crossing over'', and pitching it to the exact notes of the harmony vocals on all four verses of the song. I reminded him of how I used to play around with keyboards from local music stores, as early as 1980, and by using numerous mixed input and output signal mixing, equalization effects, sound samplers, and the notes on the keyboards; I could make words turn into perfectly pitched music singing, that did not sound so electronically produced. He said he would look into all of this, and I even gave him detailed information of various machines that I had all assembled together, and over the phone, he suddenly told me, back before he left last autumn for a long time away; that he knows just how to do what I want and that it would sound much better. He told me that word for word. Now remember, he is someone who takes honesty and integrity to the nth degree, never lies, never misleads, tells it straight, etcetera. He also told me that he will never smoke those nasty 'real' cigarettes again. It made his clothes stinky, his girlfriend did not like it; and he went on quite colorfully, and vociferously, about the matter; and absolutely told me he was forever done with the old smokes, and loved his new electronic BLUES smokes. Now I stress, here is a dude who I've known and would vouch for his character as honest to the point of almost sacrificing his life to a stranger if it came to that; and yet, two major things suddenly SHIFTED out of normal reality, back on 2012 King Day, when I went over for my scheduled noon session with him. He knows I don't want something that is anything less than great, as after-all; we are talking about taking the greatest singing voice on this planet, and using a talking only younger version of it from early in 1984, for the digital sampling; and hence, I wanted something that sounded far better than what we already had done before when we made this harmony track, that is up on the paulaking2011 channel of the youtube right now, and is viewable by clicking on the video showing the railroad tracks that are all bent and twisted out of shape, sort of like my entire life. But my point is that I got there, and he played what he was now going to change it too, and it was worse than listening to fingernails on chalkboards. It is not like Ryan at all, not one little bit, to even suggest to me; that I would want to copyright such a horrible and mickey mouse version of my wonderful great daughter's voice. How could I have done so much better 33 years ago? It makes no sense at all. Still, the point ties in with the cigarette smoking, that he was back all over again to doing. Now I know that quitting is very hard, as I have known my share of really fucking hard core smokers, with my own father being among this crowd. But he told me straight faced last spring, that he was done with this, and was totally happy with his new smokes, the BLUE ELECTRONIC CIGARETTE. I am now totally convinced, that was not the RYAN that told me that he would be able to make me a much more lifelike, and better quality harmony vocal of my daughter; from that sampled intro, where she in 1984, was giving me some driving instructions. Instead, I get there, and he is smoking real cigarettes again, and then totally blew my mind with that awful sounding new version, that I politely told him he could file under 'TRASH BETTER LEFT FORGOTTEN'. If either one of these transdimensional differences or reality shifts of seemingly major consequence, had happened solely and independently of the other one also happening, the rotten new voice creation, and the going back to smoking; I could believe it is all normal circumstances. But given my personal life and all of the continuous switching of reality on a dime, just like the way stuff today at noon, just banged into my life, and reality, out of nowhere; as if I had been taken by an alien UFO SHIP, from a dream, straight into this so-called same apartment where I appeared to awaken up in, only it is not the same; and just as in the bedroom in Richard Karpf's Cherry Hill, New Jersey home, at 1931 East Route 70, or Marlton Pike, same road; when I came out of whatever I really came out of, on the morning of fucking cunt lapping August fifteen, in 1986; things forever 'shifted' for me, into this death nightmare, never ever being able to return to the life that I had known before that with at least a small semblance of order and reality, that made some small sense even to me, and relative to my screwed up Huntington cursed life!!!!!!!! I was not going to discuss this powerful last session date at the Avalon Studio, but now that the flood gates have been opened, ciggs or no ciggs, beauty queens or no beauty queens, Mister Dick Wolf; let me tell you in addition; that I had a nice talk with Tony Bonjovi, and he admitted to me, that he had figured out right away, that this song was so much like that intro done by MC in 1997; and the one with that powerful message to me, 'put on top or not'; and he told me that he is quite sorry that things turned out so bad with everything; and he hopes the lawsuit does not get too ugly. That is when I came to learn that there is, or was, an industry buzz; that I was trying to make trouble. That was the last thing on my mind! I was proud, and I also was flattered; and it was not that much of a copy; merely a short musical idea perhaps, that nobody really owns; any more than anyone owns tales such as locals hearing things in the winds, yet the great 'MENTALIST' television show, did edit that part out of that 2012 episode, with the treasure; that was on a few nights back, on Monday night, if I am not mistaken about it. I thought it was way cool, that the greatest female artist of all time, did this; and I told Mister Bonjovi that, word for word; and hopefully, he will get that circulated around that rotten industry, where I am hated so much by so many; for no good reason whatsoever. However, one thing is about as plain and easy to see as a lightning bolt that just missed your head. That god dam mother fucking 1983 remake song, ''YBCO'' has caused more grief than it is worth. I just want it copyrighted, to keep the yellow sheet lady happy, as she obviously 'knew the end from the beginning', and needed to 'keep her dam Ed Green job' too much, for her to tell me anything too directly, when she called me up that late spring day, in 2008; at the Mullica trailer that I was living at, before the great King Kidnapping occurred.

Folks, when shit is made to be real fucking bad for me, with neighborhood shit, computer hacking shit or utilities or neighborhood attacks, or a heavy sky attack; it causes me a disastrous fucking loss in ability to work gaming systems, and the entire evil fucking gaming industry knows this super well guarded all time secret; and they do use it against a few peeps, who normally just die, and are found dead in some obscure and stenchy old hotel room near Vegas or AC, and no one is ever the wiser. Morianity will hopefully allow a lot of real honest lawsuits against these suit punk corporate cheater owners, who have indeed wiped out my life, and that will never stop persecuting me, knowing fully well, that doing so, causes me an endless lack of GOOD COSMIC AGREEMENT INTERACTIONS, or (LUCK). Wipe out a person's entire life, and their luck goes down right along with it. Someday, I will fucking find a cunt lapping way to prove all of this in a controlled environment laboratory setting. Until then, I sit here, an eternally fucked duck; with the ugly laughing jals of the USAF high ranking covert officials, and their endless COVER-UP of the BLUE-BOOK truths; and there ain't dick licking asshole squat, that I can seemingly do about it. That is because freedom is a pure illusion. Anyone who says that this is a free country, is not properly educated. It is a republic. It stands for one nation of non democracy, and also, the overkill power of the super wealthy, to endlessly rule, own, and totally control all of our lives; picking and choosing literally, who lives and who dies, in medical related decisions; and cleverly, and with great fucking stealth; who is permitted to live in poverty forever, or forced to really, and who is permitted to occasionally make the system look good, and 'appear to be free', and climb out of it, 'miraculously'. This is truth, folks. I am not insisting you like truth. Most peeps throughout the fucking ages, despise truth; and kill those who dare to speak it too often and or too fucking loudly. Look into your history books, and remember that this is merely a very sanitized Victoria Winters Dark Shadows Family Bible, version; as she learned so well, back in 1795, on that fantastic daytime soap show, that ran from 1966 into 1971. WOW. SHEEEEEIT! 55555555.

'E/T', PUNS, NO PUNS; YOU PICK THE DEAL FOLKS, FREEEE!

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER lV

10:15 PM-EST, JANUARY 29, 2013, TUESDAY NIGHT

IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA; MARK WAYNE MOHR, RECORDING AND REPORTING, FOR THE RECORD, ON THE RECORD, AND BY THE RECORD; SO HELP ME SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE; GODDESS ALL MIGHTY.

Never ending things continue to happen to this computer, and will always happen, as the ''IF'', quite obviously views it, as an instrument being used, to attempt to overthrow and injure its very survival, as once something is exposed, to quote the mighty 'Barnabas Collins of Dark Shadows', it can much more easily be destroyed. BUT FIRST, it needs to be exposed, then it can be, possibly destroyed, and then only possibly. But still, there is no possibility whatsoever, of accomplishing that lotable goal of destroying wickedness, and evil, and power-mongers, and greed loving Reaganomics fans; without bringing the entire issue to the surface, and to the attention of the public 99; so my question still remains, to a totally controlled news media; just where is Michael Moore's great 2011 group, ''OCCUPY''???????????????? Oh well, with or without it, or them; I will fight on, and there is a major lot to tell.

First off folks, I lost eight units over the weekend, but won back eleven units, on Monday, yesterday, at my roulette. We are plugging and trudging along, averaging plus one unit for each of the three days of play, being Saturday, Sunday, and Monday; and I have not played today, and may not; as I am busy with other major bull-crap, and am on some limited time; and have a lot I need to tell right now on this blog, and will only be able to get to a little percentage chunk of the entire mess, but I'll open a lot of doors up, and then later on, we can all walk into some new rooms and areas. Then folks, believe me when I tell you; that minds are gonna' get frikkin blown!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My father, according to numerous psychic readers, knew the Callio folks, back when my mom and him, and myself, all resided on Richmond Avenue and Atlantic Avenues, in South Atlantic City, at the Bruce Manor Motel, owned by Fred Laurenz and his wife, and no I do not know exactly how they spelled their name, as I was eight years frikkin old at the time, and neither does Microsoft Spell Checker, (MSC). Folks like Patty-Jane, on a great television show called, ''The Mentalist'', don't believe that 'any' psychics are tuned into Astral Realities, and all are phony fake con artists, and he is 99.99% right. The problem is that I personally and totally know that he is also 0.01% not right. This fall between the cracks of reality, and not ODF you hack jack quack Lattisaw garbage; but yes, this fall between the cracks, in my personal miserable hell or waking life as MWM, is all built around this one powerful truth; and the mighty 'Fred Tandy Windstein', somehow seemed to know about this, back in 1997; and so did his coworker and pal, 'Mirrors-Craig', from the Berlin, New Jersey, White Horse Pike, Radio Shack Store. Without making a million pages out of a huge evil nightmare, that is all major BLUEBOOK interconnected, and keeping things as abridged and compressed as is humanly possible, peeps; let me just say a few little things. My dad knew the parents of the late Frank Callio and the brother of late Victoria, his aunt; who was in love with me, when I was age fifteen. Then 27 years later, Victoria treated me like total crap over the telephone, for no good reason. When peeps act horrendous, when you do nothing to cause it; they have something to hide, and the more wild the situation, and the more that they need to keep well hidden in the darkened shadows, well; common sense tells us, that the crap being hidden, is in a ratio and proportion, with or without Sorian question number eighteen, of New Jersey Security Officers; to how mean and horrible and wild, you get treated, for doing no more than politely asking a quick question that could be answered in a single sentence, including a polite response of, ''well, I don't really think that this is any of your business''. All of that would be within normal behavior. I totally disagree with you, Mike Kelly, of Philadelphia, oh great and mighty nineties Anesthesiologist of the 'U of P' Hospital, and author of a once existing newsletter, that brought the chemtrail phenomenon into first exposure, called, ''Secrets From The Next Dimension''. You and Victoria Callio are totally entitled to your opinion, as is Michelle Daniels of RPL Sound Studios in 1980, and also, as am I. Spell Checker does not seem to recognize the way that I believe Mizz Daniels spelled her name, 'Mashell'; and puts a red line under it. Then when you check, there is no correction for it; so yes State Farm, you really cannot trust much of what you see here, on this lovely ass interfret.

My father was in the United States Merchant Marines, during a time, when the great Albert Einstein, did the unthinkable, at a naval shipyard, in Philadelphia, just down the road from where my parents were destined to meet, where my mom was working at the same time, as a secretary, for the then 'Lavino Shipping Company', now bought by the great British firm, INCHCAPE SHIPPING, at least as of the times when this century was just getting started. My father's genetics were altered in a way that causes one to be more sensitive to fifth dimensional life. This was a result of this experiment conducted in total secrecy, by the War Department, later to become the Department of Defense, and part of the USAF and the great Bluebook Project. Both the father of Robert McGuire, and builder of the great Tennessee Avenue Pittsburgh Hotel and Erin Bar in 1903, as well as Victoria Callio's brother, the parents of Frank and Sarah Callio, were all in on a few things, that pertained to the great secret experiment; and is even why today, they all own a secret machine, or several of them, that can indeed open up reality into the fifth dimension. I learned the hard way that this can be done synthetically, through the electromagnetic recording of sound waves, and using the right kind of sound, as opposed to what they all have and use; which is more along the lines of things way too classified for me to feel at all safe rambling on about on a blog. Still, my catching onto the entire mess, was all done in January of 1974, 39 years ago right to the very calendar days of present times. The entire story if ever told at a beginning point, and done in ways that average stories are indeed written in books, would be several encyclopedia's long, I promise you all. There are things happening, all around this world, that make anything now that you could possibly view anywhere on the entire internet, seem like a child's fable, or kids messing around in a sandbox with toy dump trucks. If I lie, I die, right Daddy? Still folks, my dad did do some pillow talking, over a two week stay at the same apartment, in Oaklyn, New Jersey; where the great Russell Thaxton came over, at age fifteen, drunk as a whale; after he had just been molested sexually, by one of his special education teachers, of the more acceptable ER days of middle December in 1969. I can never tell it all, but my father had nightmares from the time he was aboard the Eldridge, right up until the day he died. Only some Morians by now, know that really, he did not have nightmares, but that the fifth dimension and the great 'IF', was 'doing its own thing', as gorgeous Valerie Bert said in that Gong Show song of hers back around the time era of 1979, and that is if my memories are serving me within the limitations of normal channels, within the STM. But 'weight watching', or worlds doing their thing, or not; reality is what it is; just as the illustrious and eminent Dawn King used to put that so well, back in the late twenty ohs. This is just an opened door, to a windy house, with many breezes blowing, and many glaring eyes staring; and we can get back to this later on, my pal Maverick Rockford, and other Morians. So before anyone gets loosened teeth, or files; let's move on!

I could not help noticing, old friend, 001, that you edited out that line that was on the show at earlier times, with the conversation in the bar, on the episode from close to a year back somewhere, with the gold and the crabs. I don't own that you know, the gold, the crabs, or that age old story line. That has been around forever, and you don't need to edit it out for my sake; but are you doing it so that my stuff remains further and further inside of the great realm of endless obscurity? Yes, that must be it. Still, do I know that is the motive, am I psychic, sir? Well, to quote you, 'let's' not be absurd, huh Herby? Sure, there are thousands if not a million peeps out there in the world some place, using the psychic game as a con to steal our money. Paula Uwich of Glendora, New Jersey is one of those, but you do not get the whole story, Patty. She really did have a major expansion of the feel sensory system. But yes, she also knew how to dig up stuff with a real network that psychics use, and not Dion's network, but a 'pre-Google' intranet type of interconnected source material for sharing, and this is why she knew a lot about me in 1996 and 1997, and took 9200 dollars from me, but she did have a real expansion of the sense of feel, and there is no sixth sense, but some few out here, really do have a powerful extra amount, of extra sensory feeling. We all have some sense of feel, some have normal, some have less of it, some have more, some have really major expanded amounts; and 'PU' was amongst that group. But all she wanted to do was to triple the size of her home, on the Black Horse Pike; using peeps like me, in torment, that needed real help; and not separation from our money. So you keep right on preaching the word of anti-psychics 001, as after what trash like her did to me, at my most vulnerable time in my entire miserable frikkin life; there is not enough bad stuff you could say about her, and her profession; for the most part. Hay, as with the episode following the edit-job, for reasons only you in Hollywood know; 'take' the wrong person, and you may indeed need to throw a fire drink at somebody, and run for your life. I admit that if I ever were to run into Paula Uwich, I would pick up that little 55 inch pip squeak by her miserable ugly old throat, and throw her half way across the pike. Better still, I'd take her after that, out to the middle of nowhere, and let DEEDEE feast on that miserable carcass. Anything I can do to be of service, lovely DEEDEE. How I love my huge ravens, and hawks, and buzzards; and they all know me. Once the nature force makes contact with a human, in this biosphere; the creatures below the human kingdom, all know you; and you need only use a basic telepathic conversation with them, as they are on a five year old human level for the most part. We need not ramble on with any more of this, for right now, ladies and gentlemen; as there is always later, for that.

Good people, I could tell so much, that you would go insane. For right now, I will just keep insisting, that there is literally a million pages of text, behind every single topic that I open up; either on this one particular blog, or any of them. Earlier this evening, someone or something hacked into my PC, and froze it up without my even being online. It was some Microsucks update system in fifteen parts, and it froze at 11 of 15 update, and would not release. My machine was totally off, and not even on the sleeper mode, where the dim orange light is on, instead of the brighter blue light. Suddenly, poof, it pops on, and froze up for 90 minutes. I had to kill the power and restore the system, and eventually the updates finished, and did their Bertrinelli thing. GONG, Sally Starr. Oh well, Letty, Midge, MY; mimicking is not only a great flattery, but it is something that certain families just seem to do, within their vast long extending members; and maybe whether they are consciously aware of it, or not. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, and End Tranny, Sweet Granny!

MORIANITY-3

CHAPTER-lll

10:18 PM-EST

JANUARY 28, MONDAY EVENING, 2013

Ladies and gentlemen, and any other entities, following Morianity; just so you know, the entire weekend, was totally SUPER BOTBAR.

Monday has been quiet for the most part, so far.

There is a lot to tell you, and it will not be done on this blog, but hopefully; on Chapter lV of MORIANITY-PART-3.

For Non Romans, and Non Entertainment Briggbase Folks, dreaming into conscious humanity, and those who never learned in school about the great Roman Numbers; lV is the number 4. Spellchecker, or 'MSC', did not like the lV, to wit I reply; I do not need your permission to use these Roman Numerations, thank you very much. The joke about so many things is that we all wait for twenty-one long years, to make the same stupid mistakes, and do the same dumb things; that we once needed permission to do.

Oh well, this is not the time or the place, right Andy Gaines, if you're still out there, or have joined my pal Timmy, maybe, but in any case; let us not get too festive, and drunk with pre-vinegar-STM; or even think about doing anything wrong, up at Twenty-fifth and Orange, here in Fort Pierce; as seemingly, a lot of wrong things do in fact, go down, up there; and why not, TT-ROY? Hay, if we cannot laugh and joke a little, through all of this horrendous nightmare, then the only thing left to do, is to break down, admirably and generally; and cry like little pathetic freaking babies. Am I right, or am I right?

I installed an AT&T Internet system, and have had a lot of trouble with my internet ever since. I will be going downstairs after midnight, shortly; to discuss things with the guard down there, that gets on duty for his midnight shift; and who used to be employed with the great Dell Computers. May the Archangel Michael of Oakland Avenue, defend me with grace, Doctor McCoy of 1986, and other Deloris Humps.

I will tell you all, that I lost eight mother frikkin units playing my roulette system, over the weekend, and only made 42 units before that in the seven day period before the loss; a near system crash. If it loses a quarter, or 25%, of what I make; in any prior seven days or seven games, whichever is a smaller number; it is considered to be a 'system crash' for that week. That would be like our now 14,000 point Dow Jones Industrial Averages, being down a quarter in one week, to thirty-five hundred points less, or down around ten-four somewhere. Get the drift, Wendy Northwinds? I could not win over the weekend no matter how hard I tried. When I am attacked by the MILI-2-FORCE ENEMY, just as GAGA told me a few days ago, I CANNOT WIN, AT GAMING, AND LUCK situations; even hypothetical roulette on paper, and it works the very same way in 'real life' whatever that 'really-is'. I learned this as the year of 1986 drew to a frikkin close!

There are many things to discuss, and some are so major, that it is blowing my tiny little pathetic mind. Please try not to hate me so much, All Mighty Jehovah Goddess, as IWALU, even if you do kill me someday. It's your creation, and you rule; and I have nothing to say about it; and I need to obey you, and get back on track; where I was, before the huge derailment, of Glaring-oh-eight!

So no details will be told on this chapter, other than simply, I have placed my PC back to an earlier restored time point, and we will see if this helps in any way, with my problems; as if it does not, then this wireless crap has to go, as that is how come this is all happening then, all though, this powerful thing recently done, has seemingly caused the hugest SPACE-TIME-MIND effect in the known hyperspace, dwarfing 'MY'-INTROS on old tunes, or a hundred other things from following me back to high school, all the way to the countless miracles done on Tennessee Avenue, of good old Atlantic City, New Jersey. I really should not say a lot more, right Aunt Ruth, and Uncle Heinz; even though it all started when I tried to download FIREFOX to see if changing internet browsers, would make things better; and the entire world seemed to blow apart as a result, Highness Ramases.

Where are you when I need you, Sir Elton, and Sir Joel?

The 'W' word now, at Font-three trillion.

BYE-BYE, and END TRAN!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER ll

Yesterday was a super mother fucking BOTBAR for me, and today is following with a nasty BOTBUR, not a good sign, when a fucking weekend is wiped out, or when real bad Saturday's and Sunday's are created for me by the enemy WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE.

The attack this weekend has totally fucking centered around the UTILITES. Every day, there are many fire alarms again, so far none today, but it is only four in the after fucking noon. New people moved in here obviously, who are unfamiliar with our shitty easy to set off smoke and fire detection system. If folks would maintain and properly clean their stove top burners, their ovens, and be sure that the kitchen fan above the cooking device remains on during all cooking operations, and would monitor their activities, not laying down where they may fall asleep, and so forth; this would be reduced to a very rare activity. But then I could create a lot of perfect-world scenarios. Bruce Pennock from his days as a boy in his late teens, would put things quite well right about now, it is not a perfect world nor can it ever be, for a very simple reason. We are far from perfect, and as he would have gone onto say in the early and middle seventies, 'we're all human'.

Today, I went to turn on my Comcast TV, and I am not sure what is going on and who is playing games, but it worked just fine when I first activated it around 3, shortly after awakening from my late morning slumbers. Then suddenly after only seconds, it changed to all channels producing a screen saying 'This channel should be available shortly', and all giving the same reference code; and that is all that would appear on the television screen. When I called, they told me an outage is happening in my area. Well, that too is a normal event, as Bruce also would agree, I am sure, as if none of us are perfect; then our technology certainly isn't either, as we imperfect humans created it. Still, why is there an outage when it seemed to work just fine when I first activated the system? That is what I am finding difficult to totally buy into, and in lieu of the fact, that the computer attack was super mother fucking MAJOR, all day yesterday, an entire weekend, seemingly, of MAJOR ENEMY UTILITY ATTACK, and this kind of stuff is what I am forced to fucking suffer through and live with, every single time their evil fucking stock market is up at, or around, all time record cunt lapping highs; ever since this all began for me, in 1986, when 90%+ of the cock sucking time, their evil manipulated and cheated 'ICPE-APE' markets, were indeed, on never ending mother fucking ALL TIME DAILY HIGHS, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year; until the very end of the century, and into this one; when their evil wicked momentum finally slowed down, after nearly a decade and a half or so, of absurd bullish non ending stock market rallying, and gaining. Then the news press crooks who are the puppets of the billionaires naturally, for those too ignorant to put 2 and 2 together and get a 4; would tell us all on the world news, year after year, totally different and opposing stories as to why markets were up so high, or when they would rarely correct downward, for very short periods; also, the reasons for that. But follow this carefully as I was doing as sort of a 'markets forced fan', and it was blatantly obvious to even the biggest fucking retards, that this was a lie, and total fiction. One year, oil going up, meant the markets going down; and many other so-called absolutes and constants. But when the market would go up and up and up forever, no matter what other stuff was going on; they would be forced to come out and change their fucking tune completely; and this would go right over peoples' heads, who were supposedly so smart, and financially wise. It did not get past me however, and I saw right through all this demonic billionaire greed, and filth, and theft.

This all started in the summer of 1986 with me, and never looked back. When I first told the truth about deeper shit that I had begun remembering, after my last days in Jersey, and my early days here in Florida, folks seemed genuinely interested. You could type in KING NEBNOOSHOO, and get all sorts of information about my story, sanitized of course, but at least it was there and smart folks knew that where there was smoke, and no puns meant or should they in fact be; there was fire, and maybe even Dawn and McGuire; but for now, that's all neither 'hair' nor there; right lovely Donna Adrian Gaines? Now, the owners of the internet, and the ANTICHRIST ITSELF, the All Mighty GOOGLE, have literally shut me down. They refuse to allow me to post my videos on the YOUTUBE to different accounts; since I have three channels, KING NEBNOOSHOO, PHILLY 57 HOCKEY STICKS, and PAULAKING2011. The only place where this song, that has meant nothing but gargantuan trouble for me for about a solid mother fucking year now, called; “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, is at, is PAULAKING2011. When I try and post it to any other accounts by going to them, clicking the 'UPLOAD' button, and attempting to add this song to these other channels; it always posts to the one and only one, paulaking2011. Finally, early this morning, the video was totally rejected by the YT for being a duplicate, and it should be rejected for being a duplicate, as this ass hole GOOGLE YOUTUBE keeps insisting on putting it on only one of my three fucking cunt channels, and you can see it is up there about five times, with the railroad track cover scene, at that channel, paulaking2011. But early this coming week, I am going down to speak with the building security guard, who has the graveyard shift; and who Debbie Morotto, the Resident Manager, has informed me; that he used to work for the DELL COMPUTER people; and he should be willing to try and help me for a few bucks, after my February 3, 2013 disability money comes in, and if he cannot do anything, then he will be my witness, and will be subpenaed into court, when I file charges against the ALL MIGHTY ANTICHRIST GOOGLE, FOR SANCTIONING MY RIGHT TO GET MY STORY OUT TO THE WORLD; MY TRUE AND POWERFUL REAL LIFE STORY, and not some Patterson fiction. I will go to court, and I will have the local media all around; because I can produce real powerful shit that will not be able to be ignored, and once shit starts in this country, then try stopping it folks. My entire life has been destroyed by these offshoots of Robert McGuire and Sarah Callio, going all the way to crossed over bridges, and telephone taped daughters from long ago. Oh yes, will we be crossing over all bridges successfully, or end up drowned, on a famous bridge in Massachusetts? You all know that I am telling you a powerful bunch of truths, and admitted from the start, that I am doing my best to put a billion little puzzle pieces all together. You try doing better if you're all so Rubik Cube emmereffing Einsteinian out here.

If you can do better, and you see past the horizons that I've managed to reach, from my best mountain top views, and fittingly so; well, why not help a dude out, and contact me; and tell me your greater version of fucking wisdom? First of all, there are two truths that appear to conflict, when really, if carefully observed and scrutinized correctly; they actually compliment each other. I speak of how I claim that enemies intentionally effecting my life negatively through continuous covert and stealthy attacks, 24-7-365.2422 for 25-50 years now, indeed brings down the force of personal luck, and life in general gets darker and hellish, as this process forever appears to unrelentingly fucking continue. Yet, on my worst, as well as my best days; I would be first man at the gate, to come out and admit to anyone who wants to know; that there are constants, that no amount of shit done to me by the PROJECT BLUEBOOK MILITUFORCE (IF) bastards, would change one tiny microscopic bit. If I were to jump off of a tall building, or strike a person on the head with a huge plank or rock; the same reality would become the net result. If I did a mathematical calculation properly and correctly, 2+2 would always be 4, 50 times 30 would always be 1500, and the square or the square root of any number, would also remain exactly the same as well, and on and on I could go. There would still be one and only one number for PI, and it still would never come out to a totally exact diameter to circumference ratio to the closed curve (circle), and a square will never be a circle, nor will these shapes in geometry ever be a trapezoid or a triangle, and so forth. These are not changeable realities. On my best or worst day as far as my enemies attacking me are concerned, if I throw a brick through a store window, in front of a police person; I am going to be arrested, and jailed; and also, if I were to miraculously be handed the winning jackpot lottery ticket; it would win, and the state would have to pay out to me, the 800,000,000 dollars, minus the taxes. This my fiends and friends is a part of the new roulette system that I am not going to get into, at least not with my life being this totally fucked up, and dangerous for me; as it has been now, all fucking century, and millennium long. Some things will remain constants, but then there are all those other things that DO NOT REMAIN CONSTANT, but rather; will indeed alter, as the OTAMMIC WEATHER alters. I have tracked this in my life since the middle eighties, and I really do feel and believe folks, that this is a long enough period where I can state with reasonable degrees of accuracy; that this is real, this works, and this monstrous shit is indeed being carried out by my ''IF'' ENEMIES, and has been the case, ever since this began for me in the early eighties, and worsened as these filthy rotten eighties progressed along into the nineties. For a quick example that is pertinent 100%+ to me right now this weekend, the markets ended up last week at record highs, up every single business day, up many hundreds of points on the week, and up thousands of points in this month and year of 20-lousy-13. This is not a good thing, not for me, not for 99% of any of you reading this, and is only a good thing for the world owners who want nothing other than to totally control and own all of us, all of our lands and possessions, the whole mother fucking ball of 27 foot wax. Yes, that wonderful fucking electrical number of 3 cubed. I told the blogs how in when else, but middle 1984 somewhere, while living in a rented home owned by another Patterson family of Cinnaminson, New Jersey, at 1406 Highland Avenue; I had a powerful, what else is fucking new for me folks; ''DREAMING INTERACTION'', or nocturnal experience, where I was at the then existing Atlantic City, GOLDEN NUGGET HOTEL AND CASINO, and a storm came up, and LIGHTNING came right down onto the roulette table where I was sitting at and playing, and went right through the number RED-ODD-27. Then her adorable voice that only the copyright Office has, really humanly SSJKK at two years of age via the original internet telephone system of the Ingrid Very Old Club; and she spoke the unforgettable Nat 'King' Cole words to me, that went, I am number 27, little boy, that is my number, I AM the electron, or what you call electricity and lightning. It is a slight paraphrase, as the precise words are dam close to this, but are forgotten now, and the tapes I had once where I reported for my TAPED LIFE JOURNAL, are of course, all now cleverly removed from me, by the KING family, very distant cousins of my wonderful kid, but still, cousins. They did not want me having records of these things, any more than YOUTUBE wants me to have the few things left that I did manage to get down here with me to fucking Florida, lovely full moons and all, both now, and a couple months from now, or should I say in an adorable voice too cute to humanly imagine, copyright Office, ''I KNOW''?????????? I am unable to resist the temptation any longer, so sorry folks, and Mister Japanese Ambassador, W----O----W!

Isn't there anything you can do to help me, Fred Hinger, Derrijo of Cherry Hill, Mirrors Craig; and others out here and they all know who they are? Why do you leave me here to suffer endless fucking cunt torment and everlasting burning cock licking hell, 'why; why Jimmy why', secret Bohemian diner meetings and all, just tell me frikkin why? 'ENDTRAN'!

MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00036, BLOG-B

JANUARY 26, 2013, 9:05 PM-EST

DEAR JOURNAL, THE NAME OF THIS BLOG IS NOT RESORTS INTERNATIONAL HOTEL AND CASINO INTERCOME PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEMS OF 1983, AND THEIR POTENTIAL MISUSE; BUT MORE ALONG THE LINES OF:

THE SANITIZING OF TRUTH—MAIN TITLE

THE DOUBLE HORIZON KNOWLEDGE BARRIER—SUBTITLE

MORIANITY-3 COMING TO AN INTERNET NEAR YOU—ALL TITLES

Now folks, this will be short and sweet, and that's a dam promise. I've learned that I am much better off speaking to the readers' subconscious, whoever the readers may be, and that is a very large barrel of cosmic possibilities, Mizz Elizabeth Montgomery Twitchynose.

I got the crap knocked out of me by SSJKK in my sleep, and I am not allowed to tell more than the reason why SHE did this. It seems that I forgot something that she told me to do, and she gave me way too much credit for my powers of potentially being a charter member in the very exclusive club, cosmically secretly known as the ES, or the 'EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND'.

LSS, I got beat to a pulp for not remembering to do some things, first, rereading my own older blogs from late oh-7 and early oh-8, and see exactly where the course was heading with these blogs, before a powerful derailment occurred, and that is no pun, GOOGLE YOUTUBE, as SHE is awake as well as asleep, and I was with the real SSJKK, and not HER living entity here, and that is what really counts. She does do a O.W. Network with the land, and She does indeed, RULE THE EMPIRE, evil or not, and I must OBEY my TQ, as my shellfish days are over, OR ELSE; to quote the All Mighty.

'OH SHIT', the 'SECRET' is out 'GOOGLE', that little old me, 'CAN FLY', and all the way from 1984, over to the great Camden City Andrews Shipyards, and then right back again, to all the queries of 'What's Wrong' with the universe, since this very era; and then soon to follow, along came the most mysterious person in my life, to quote ADA-RON WIRTZ SENIOR, of the CCPO, in New Jersey, and that would be; high degreed Mason, Sir DAVID CHARLES ROTH, no less. Only much greater powers than him exist, as the great Petee Pote, and all Popes, from Somerdale Police Chiefs, to sovereign nations like Vatican City, and its RULER; all know so well. So many ask me still, will there really be a great mile high roller coaster built in Wildwood, New Jersey, in the middle twenties; completed in the late spring time, of twenty-thirty-one? Absolutely, in many many universes in the hyperspace. Will it be where you and I are living? Who can know the answer to things like this, unless we first learn how to conquer a little enemy of wisdom thing, called the DHKB or 'DOUBLE HORIZON KNOWLEDGE BARRIER'. It is just like the title of it implies, ladies and gentlemen. Every time we begin to learn more truths and more things, we also learn that there is so much more we need to learn, that we endlessly know a lesser percentage of potential wisdom and things. It really is no 'secret' or (PCN-671) and many smart folks figured this little truth out a long time ago. I did not invent the old saying that the more you know, the more you know you don't know. Still, I have been given marching orders to begin MORIANITY-3, and in this, will simply be chapter numbers, no titles or subtitles, all given in Roman Numerations, and the course that the original Morianity was on, before my 70-day 2008 sabbatical happened; will indeed be resumed, returned back to, and if the gods will it; perhaps even someday, successfully completed. And thank you for the wisdom sir, diner doors and drug store 12 July days, ANWG-660!

MORIANITY-3-----------------------CHAPTER I.

Shorty, this will be a shorty. I created you, and I can remove you, any time I want to. I can remake the same tape that I made in the fall of 1979 or early part of 1980, from my home at 112 East Fifth Avenue, in Mantua, New Jersey, USA-ES-MWG. Then, I can reverse the tape and keep making new analogue recordings of the reverse tape sound, until you vanish just as suddenly and mysteriously, as you 'pooped' up in everybody's life in 1984, DJBT.

Maybe you'll die with a big grin on your face, maybe not, as that's entirely your own business, kind sir. I have no power to stop your out of control DOW JONES, or your horrible effects on my family. But I will eliminate you from the surface of this planet, if you keep messing with me, you evil arrogant prick.

Now for the record folks, I am not putting the double blue lines under any of the blogs on my blogger dot com blogging. I do not know who is doing it, or why; and this is why from now on, I am not doing anything except for capitol lettering, and punctuations. No color, no underlining, and as Diana would put it so perfectly in 1983, over the telephone, to me; ''NO NOTHING''.

Before I log off, I asked the GAGA CAT a short while back, just what number out of the 81 PCN'S, most adequately addresses the strange glarry eyed dude that wanted to hear what was spoken to me in that 2008 interaction, and has haunted me in 'dreams' forever so it seems, and I got a very wild response, from the random card draw; PCN-615. I have but three items that are in my canons for this number, and they're as follows: 'DEEDEE','PRISON', and 'ELEVEN HUNDRED STATE STREET'. What are you up to Paula Uwich, you witch, and say hi to the value sisters of caller-ID-land.

E/T-----------------------------------------------------------------

MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00036, BLOG-A

All evening, my ass hole nabes were in and out, but at least the doors were not slamming real loud.

I know exactly why all the things that happen around me, happen. Nobody is fucking fooling me for one cunt lapping minute, and that means nobody; not the super wealthy dirt bags involved, not any of their pizza employees, and or other dirty deed doers, that own fire brooms, and plenty of land as well as all other things, just as 'OCCUPY' used to say, before they all gave up and disbanded, and we now, AND JUST AS I SAID WOULD HAPPEN, are right back with the EVIL EMPIRE in total fucking control, and at ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS ON THE STOCK MARKET, meaning doom for all of us 99ERS.

This day would be a pretty nasty BOTBAR if not for a couple of pluses that went my way. One is the discovery a short while ago, only a few hours, late last night; that I had totally miscalculated something that is just too complex to get into, pertaining to my roulette system; and that is only for openers. All I'll fucking tell y'all, is that the system has not crashed. No, it did not make a ton of money; but it is still struggling along, despite ALL TIME MARKET ''RECORD HIGHS'', and many PROMISES TO A SPECIAL NIGHT LADY, NAMED 'GIANT GINA'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU, sweetie.

I had major 'DREAMS' again, and knew it from the second that I 'awoke', to use 'forward-mortal' lingo here. But I could not pull anything up, and my consciousness was totally blocking it out; as that, to be quite frank and honest, good peeps; is its job. The less you remember about your life in hyperspace, the better your conscious mind is doing its job. Still, you need not remember consciously, to awaken real happy, or real angry, or real sad; and all of the many other emotions, ranging from sheer overall terror, to total unexplainable bliss. This comes from not remembering details, yet as I told you all, and yes GINA; we need not always be discussing the fucking stock market, honey cakes; but all of the universes indeed do connect up, from any present awake point we all are at continuously. After all, if you were treated monstrously at your job in a 'dream' and awoke, and then the boss started to give you hell there; you would be much more likely to react negatively to it, than if the 'DREAM' had not happened, so think about all of the stuff, that MORIANITY has preached to you now, for over seven years; and don't be so dam mother fucking quick to dismiss it as space cadet, tin foil hat, nuttiness.

No, the roulette never crashed, but Ida gone on thinking it had, and never started playing again, on this super ass system that WILL NOT be shared, for obvious reasons; until and unless my life ever somehow drastically improves; a tremendously unlikely event, folks, like DUH! So what did happen folks? Well, it has to do with two powerful, and very name recognized persons; one from the 'dream-land' experience, and the other, while later awake, and watching some TV. I am not willing to say more at this point in Watergate Time, with or without bright lights, scowling faces, big egos, scandals of the seventies, or senators.

As soon as I began remembering the DREAM however, this past evening, as this is now five past one on Saturday morning, the NABE SHIT started up with precision fucking time piece clockwork. Thank you so much for being so very nice and understanding, David Leigh Smith, in October of 1970, as you really did me a giant favor; or else to this very day, I would think I am just totally crazy; and that is exactly what the ''IF'' bastards, and or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, wants me to do; and I'm not in the habit of doing favors for enemies, any more than are two great peeps from 1897, in the world of very darkened shadows, that do not dwell a lot by day, not on Park Avenue, in Westmont, near the Delaney residence anyway. Wo girl; all these hockey sticks are really putting the bite on me, so let me fly the hell out of here with this little news tip, Donald.

I know a whole hell of a lot more, than any of you cock sucking WORLD OWNERS HAVE A CLUE THAT I KNOW; and I know shit about each and every one of you; so take that to fucking bed with you tonight, you crumbs!

As Luke 'Skywalker' might say now, 'E.T.' Get with it MSC!

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MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00035, BLOG-A

My days of internet and blogging will also be over, shortly after I get my YOUTUBE garbage down. It is a total waste of time, when I am being sanctioned by the ANTICHRIST, and the PROJECT BLUEBOOK PEOPLE. I refuse to waste my time, when I can just drive to Mexico, and get the fucking hell out of this crappy misery, once and for all; and refuse to play this monstrous mother fucking game, with these sick and twisted despicable people out here. You poor pathetic losers. Keep on believing I'm just a crackpot, and that this concept of your antichrist is an actual single personality, such as you see in those religious films on the religious channels on TV, when really; it is G---O---O---G---L---E.

Ever since 1997, when Fred Winstein helped me to some degree, to buy a computer, where he worked over at Radio Shack; and helped me set it up, along with his pal, another employee from his store, named Mirrors Craig; the man with two faces, and we need not touch this piece of hell right now; but way back then; he could not understand why nothing ever works for me on a computer, such as for one example, when I attempted to download 'Firefox' last night as my default browser, and it does not work today at all, even though the little ball icon is up on the screen as it was last night.

This no more started happening around me in 2007, 1997, 1987, 1977, or even 1967, shortly after meeting Sarah Krassle, 'humanly', as SARAH; for the first time in late June of 1965, on Tennessee Avenue, of Atlantic City. No, this has been going on with the Huntington fucking family, for over 2000 years, right around the time that the Popes knew that only certain things could dare to be put into the religious record, while other Bluebook Truths, needed to not only remain out of it forever, along with roof pushes, strong frog changes, and drowned girlfriends; and lots more Bluebook nightmares, I am quite sure; but still, I thought it fitting to see what just might happen, should I try and add fire brooms, and fire foxes, into the mix; and especially in lieu of nosy Mister Donald, sticking it where it doesn't fucking belong. Go ahead you sick old bitch, buy the Times, buy TIME ITSELF if you think it can erase a life of devil worship, but your end is right around the corner, as is WFMU, and WAYV; and for that matter, all of the entire sick twisted evil demonic shit all over this mother fucking planet. It is very soon about to be burned up and endlessly destroyed. It may not fall into your conscious mind illusion for thousands, millions, maybe billions of years, but I have seen this world, all charred to ash, with a glowing humongous red star that once was our loving son, scorching the entire inner solar system, and this is your fate, all of you, and you will rot and burn in endless fiery hell; you sick dirty rotten mother fucking jerk offs.

So you just go on hurting me and hating me all you want, and you too Mister Potter's employee, and you too, Charles Delaware Tate. See you all in hell, to quote my grandmother, to her own daughter, after her daughter murdered her, and she lay on the bathroom floor, bleeding out, back in either late 1964, or the end of 1963, somewhere, on Ranstead Street, in the slums of Philadelphia. My very mentally disturbed aunt was forcing her mom to tell where she had hidden her pills, and my granny wouldn't fork them over, as she knew that more pills would make her worse. Either way, daughter killed mother. My family is loaded with tragedies like this one, as with the one in Braintree, Massachusetts, back around early in February of 1948, when my cousin, Arthur Huntington, son of Herbert; murdered his wife, and mother in law, in their sleep, in the house; and then went into the basement and strung himself up with a fucking cunt lapping nasty noose. 'AGHGHGHAHCKCK', well, if he did it right and snapped his neck, he did not have to choke and suffer, any more than did his wife and her mother, my Aunt Alice, and Great Aunt Rebecca; or 'whatever' her name was, Congressman.

When you come from a wonderful family like mine, and then come to learn that in each generation, someone not given an option or choice in the matter whatsoever, is forced to do a cosmic 'Dark Shadows Morgan Collins', and become the CURSED HUNTINGTON, well; now you know why I wonder if another OJ trial is not around the corner. This is why I plan to get all my YOUTUBE stuff down, as I should not have tape recorded my daughter as a teenager in the first place, over the telephone, and also, I should not have posted those projects up, without asking her for permission first. So to prevent another huge family 'incident' to put it delicately, I am pulling everything off, and not allowing ANTICHRIST GOOGLE, to influence my mind, through their powers of ETTOS or the PAWM-PIE; to ever again use any of their social media bull shit junk. You missed me today Janeyslut.

How would you put that now, Mike McNulty, old pal; working at the CFS Printing Plant of 1971, 'AHA-AHA-AHA'????????

I am left to understand one fact better than any other, well, really two of them. First, my curse is unbreakable, and is worse than anybody's present maxed out concept of eternal hell. Second, it is all just a game, being played by a wild teenage girl, by the name of Sarah Krassle, the great All Mighty 363, and not always, such a real good girl, but I suppose, she tries; so I'll give her that much, huh Bobby McGuire. Have you ruined anyone else's property, or lit anything up????????????????????????????????????????

END TRANSMISSION, E.T., END TRANNY GRANNY, ETC, ETC.

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MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00034, BLOG-A

10:40 AM-EST, at Fort Pierce, Florida, Mark Wayne Mohr, recording and reporting, for the record, on the record; and by the record.

There is a lot to tell, and just as when I was not online for just over two weeks, that seemed more like closer to two months. I may again, only post several blogs together for a while, so as to leave the humongous compilation up there on my two sites, front and center for a while. Speaking of this, when I tried to post them up, both of my sites made it extremely difficult for me to do. Many changes were made in those short sixteen days or so that I was offline, and even my AT&T installer, told me that it is weird, and that he never witnessed anything like what happened to me. He hooked me up, and many pages that were supposed to still be there, were no longer available, and is all part of my 'control pages', as I have come to call them. This is what keeps me a nobody in this world, and never recognized for things that I have done, not ever; and not by anyone, because it is totally fixed; and these secret covert fucking cunt sanctions that are imposed on me, are as real as any heavy hefty Krassle Motorcycle chain, that could ever be used to bind anything.

First I'll give the updated report, since my last post up; and since blog JWC2, DAY 00033, BLOG-A, ended the last updates, on what is ongoing around me. Things have gotten strange, and persecution is looming around me like the impending cosmic doom of a rapidly approaching meteorite.

But first things first at seven minutes shy of eleven this Thursday morning, YO. At just a few minutes before the last hour, and right about one hour ago, after already being newly awake for the day, a loud squeal came over my off hook telephone AT&T landline, and all 'Cifaloglio Garage' or copied New York condo karate kicks shortly thereafter, notwithstanding!!!!!!!! I had very recently awakened out of a horrible 'dreaming interaction' experience, and it will most definitely be shared, as this is going lately, on a severe, and very fucking nasty-ass roll; peeps. Before going on with this, as I may not have been all that clear about many things on my long compilation blog, since there was way too much to cram into one post as I did, but felt that I had no choice; so I wish to now clear up, that my roulette systems all crashed and burned, both during those horrific BOTBAR ATTACKS, that followed a nice string of short BACK-OFF DAYS. The negative effects on me, appears to be empowered more by a huge 'CONTRAST', than most other things; and whether the OTAMMIC MILI-2-FORCE or the 'IF' realizes this or not, or for that matter, even cares; but this indeed, is what does me the most mother fucking cunt lapping severe damage, every single cock sucking time!!!!!! But I need to get back to the details of what this nice fellow and AT&T installer, told me early yesterday afternoon, while hooking me back into the frikkin internet. Before I do, yes, I altered some personal plans, and the details of it are nobody's business, unless I should decide to make this public information; as obviously somebody offered me a deal, that I could reasonably work into my extremely limited financial budget; and so I am back now, having a phone, an internet; and some low tier cable television; and I am with two different services, and will be most likely, throughout most, if not the remainder of this year of 2013. I am actually saving quite a bit, and have lost nothing, and how does one say no to a great deal, especially when they normally are on the receiving end of the shittiest possible deals anywhere, all their god dam frikkin life? Now that will be it for the details of how I am back again online, much sooner than anticipated, good folks, YO.

Yes, things were pretty much ascertained, that I am indeed being stopped from getting anyone to view my works on the crooked YOUTUBE, and as I said, all the views up there, are my own attempts to hook up hyperlink connections, into my two blogs, at Wordpress, and Blogger. Also, Wordpress was fairly hard to post yesterday, but Blogger was nearly impossible, and refused to post my document entirely, from my open office pages, and only finally would it post this up eventually, on a cut and paste job, directly from the copy posted up at the Wordpress site. I hope, my old school chum from Fort Wayne, Indiana, Bob McDowell, and now Chairman and Overseer of the Federal Communications Commission; is seeing, and witnessing, all of the shit that's happening to me, now; and for all my seven plus mother fucking years of internet blogging; as there aint no cunt eating way, that any of this endless persecution; is just some coincidence; and we all know it, or else; we should all take some advice that I gave to my kid in 1986, and get back, not to Rod Stuart, and Maggie May; but older fans of the late sixties, and the early seventies music; get the fucking picture here, I'm quite sure, YO. Maybe we might learn something as well, this time around. And then, maybe not.

You missed me Jane Dirtweeds Sleazedisease, HEE-HEE. It is thirteen minutes past fucking eleven this morning!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, when an AT&T employee in the installation game, who is experienced, and not a real young person; tells me that something is up, and weird, and wrong, and going on somewhere, with me, with all of this; it more than confirms to my mind at least, Uncle Heinz Gottwald Late Sir, of Babylon, New York, up in your big ass mansion, on Peninsula Drive; that none of this is some psychotic delusion, or paranoid persecution features, on my part; and that mental illness and disease, has nothing whatsoever to do with any of this hell that I have been suffering through, since 'WOMO' started chocking me to death, on June fourth, in 1983; and from there, things kept progressing along worse and worse; and by middle of August in 1986, my residence was literally switched from Planet Earth, to Outer Darkness Center-Land-Underworld, or AKA ''HELL''. The reason that my shit is still fucking up on the YOUTUBE, is COURT EVIDENCE, and things that my 'IF-ENEMIES' in human bodies, do not need to know about for my sake, will be kept every bit as fucking HUSH-HUSH and stealthy-covert, as they like to play the game with fucking ass me. Hay BRO, there is a 50 yard line here, as well as in that wonderful game of fucking ass football; and nothing happens in the rules of that game, on the one side of it, that does not apply to the other side of it. So I refuse to let my life, be turned any longer, into a mother fucking less of a fair ass arena, than any fan of football, would expect, let alone tolerate; in a football fucking game. Now to discuss the major fucking 'nightmare' that woke me up this morning, right before the telephone squeal sound, that was as unpleasant as hell. Well, both attacks sucked, but the nightmare was truly like my lovely blond Amy, from long ago; in a league all her own, blond to blond; right Copyright Examiners? What is with yellow paper and hair?

I was up at the Harvest place at the Corner of 25^th and Orange, caddy corner to the no longer used branch of the Walgreen's Pharmacy, as I only deal with the branch now on route One, where I do not feel cheated, and intimidated, and fucking cunt 'MESSED WITH', so 'who is it', Gawky L&O?

Again, this is, what you all would label as; 'my dream'. I see things extremely fifth dimensionally, and need to make sure to clarify myself, and write stuff in a more normal, and down to Earth fashion; or folks will hear things that could get me locked up; as in all five dimensions, all sorts of wild stuff is going on in my life, and yours as well folks, but you refuse to entertain anything but a cave-person, and dinosaur attitude, towards the subject of nocturnal activities. As an old pal's dad said to me quite often back in 1966, Charles Ponti, from Westmont, New Jersey; ''Mark, you cannot expect others to acclimate themselves to you, so you will need to acclimate to them''. Well, I won't of course, hence my life as it stands at age 58 years and six and a half frikkin weeks; but that's my concern. Still, for the purposes of improved clarity, and having my blogs understood better; I cannot just go all out speaking, of my entire fifth dimensional life, in its fullness; as if it is one real and total reality; from the reference point and view, of any one waking world universe and reality. When I forget that from time to time, get old Mark Hamill to smack me on the head, and may I spend a few hours or days with that lovely punk rocker, YO? Wow she rocks my fucked up world, BRO. So back now to the really bad ass nightmare, that notice again, my loyal MORIANS, going all the way back on these blogs to October fifth in 2008 after waking up from being up in Suffolk County in Long Island, and then telling Diana one little thing, and then BANG, that horrible MILITUFORCE CHOPPER ASSAULT, out of nowhere, as if 'they' were just waiting to activate an 'on' switch, in some higher locale of reality. Read it, it is all there. So there I am at the Harvest place, and their web address is as follows: http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and I was working there again, and had entirely different bosses. Things were even more hellish than they were in this universe, back between June the eighth of twenty-ten, and the eleventh of March of twenty-twelve, when 'Jessica Deal With This Later Grant', fired me. Aniwho, lads and lassies, I came out of the experience, told Diana on the telephone that I just popped out of a nightmare, sound familiar 10-05-08?, and then came the loud fucking civil rights violating squeal sound over the telephone. Fortunately, my ear was not right at the receiver at the time. There will come a day when I represent myself, if they ever damage me, and I do not regenerate again. Fair is fair; love, war, and moms of James Stuart, or Frank Capra. Hay, I love AT&T, but as Whitney might say if she still was around, this does not 'crack' me up in the smallest bit.

Now the details of this nightmare, centered around the end of it, all though the entire time, I was working there and things were totally deplorable, and people were too; even more so than they were here, during my peak time of hell up there in the frikkin past, in this universe, (the waking world) you would all say. As this all drew near the end of this shitty experience, I was up at the front area there and things were totally arranged differently. I had been expected to move some food bins into an area, and had no idea that I was supposed to do this, actually this other doppelganger me didn't, but through his eyes, and my being a recessive entity within him, as a TYPE-1-EXPN; I totally knew what he knew, at least about the job, and what was required of me in order to properly perform my work related duties and tasks. Out of the blue, and after the offices were all dark and empty, the big boss lady who is not anyone from this parallel reality over here, came up to me, and really reamed me out, for not doing this particular thing. I told her that I would be happy to take care of it, but she just kept balling me out, like there was no tomorrow about it, and that shouting at an employee was about to be outlawed in 24 hours. She was relentless, and totally evil, and mean. Suddenly I also noticed that her husband was standing next to her, but quietly, not saying a word. He was bigger, and heavier, and older, than I usually see him in dream-land; but it was him, and yes sir, the glarry eyed man again; from the library, and from Judge Raso's magical windy door slamming house of 2008. Does this require a WOW yet, good Morian folks? The plus out of this day, would be that at least he did not make me call him ''Vasco'', or start belting out in his baritone voice, my song from 1999, ''Atlantic Queen'', WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! The emotion of the total meanness of his wife however, still remains trapped in my emotional well being, hours later while 'awake' back here in this reality while I am typing this story into a blog, for my viewers to soon read. The more you do live fifth dimensionally, my good people; the more your dream-life will heighten in its emotion, and have many other effects back in your waking world tuned in universe consciously, not just with memory and feeling, but with actual connections in realities, universe to universe, and we have only brushed open this topic with 'Sarah's 1983 fire-broom', and when I really get into it, most likely and you watch and you all remember my words; the USAF Bluebook folks, WILL certainly shut me down, one way or the other, and of course, covertly, making it look so totally innocent.

For right now, I am going to relax with a snack, and four hours of my favorite television show, none other than the one and only, non George Burns, ''Law & Order'', YO!!!

Folks, it is seconds shy of seven this evening right now. I enjoyed 'L&O', and a nice meal. Things were mostly quiet around here today, and I'm doing a McDonald's about it. If I had my fucking ass way, I would live in a mausoleum a mile underneath ground, and never again hear a single sound, for all fucking cunt lapping eternity. Screw the planet. I hate everybody, and I hate everything. If Michelle Daniels gives me the special green-light-permission, without any lines or barriers, to have my opinion; then that's frikkin good enough for dick licking poor ugly old me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''YUK''!!!!!!!!

I'll tell you why I like being very solitary and sedate, even if it only makes Melanie Safka, and her magical brand new key happy; back in the early seventies. First, I truly do not think the way that others do. How can I once I observe the worlds around me, with two additional dimensions, than other folks do? Did you ever wonder not so much where the shadows dwell by day, or any other things that maybe you wish you knew or the thoughts you cannot say, back in 1983; with or without, any music and songs, and Copyright Offices, and mafia insurance, and so much more; but did you ever ever wonder peeps, just why we basically, as a race of humans; require an average of nine and one half hours, out of the 24 hour day; for sleeping? Well, that is a fascinating argument that is not ever going to be 'court proof' to anything, but it is mathematically quite fascinating, and here's Y: This period of time is roughly two fifths of the day, and the two fifths of the dimensional experience that we all move into, while 'being asleep'; equals out here with this, just as perfectly as the light travels around the world about one seventh of a second, and we are all conscious to instantaneous pieces of time of about, yes you guessed it; one seventh of a frikkin second. Lets get this over with, Tommy Reale, W—O—W!!!!!!!!

But there is a second reason folks, why I would enjoy a life of super solitude where literally I never would have to encounter another human fucking being ever again, and I'll bet donuts to coffee fucking ass beans, that not one of you reading my blogs, has the answer, until you read on and get it from me now. I'll bet you three billion fucking USD right here and right now, with low or high blood pressure, Lenny McKinnon's 1981 girlfriend, or my hero up in future newer times, Miss lovely Anita Van Buren of 'L&O'. Here goes, in regular time, © Examiners, and with a lot of heat on your feet, if you're secretly out there MJ, and we all know my blogs, and what they said on 'Wordpress', 'Blogger', 'UM', and 'MIND'; back in the late summer time of OH-M-9, and it takes no Lynn Noon Noonan Exotic dancer fiance' of Robert Cheatley, and her lightning laughing, from 1985; to see all this; if you'd all just fucking take the blinders off your dam ass eyes. 'DAWN KING is the answer', and also, even though she took away my entire life; she did me the world's most humongous fucking favor folks. I no longer wish to date, or be married, or have anything to do with anyone, ever again; not after her, and that evil family from HELL!!! E.T. No puns.

PERFECT TIME FOR A POST SCRIPT, ON PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, HUH JANE?

WELL, ONE WAY TO GET THROUGH THIS PAGE, IS TO OBVIOULSY MAKE THE FONT SIZE LARGER, LIKE A REAL 2006 'DUH' FROM A GREAT AUTOMOBILE COMPANY.

THE REASON MY YOUTUBE ACCOUNT IS STILL UP, IS TOO COMPLEX TO GET INTO; BUT IT WILL ALL BE DOWN SHORTLY, FOREVER; AND GOOD RIDDANCE TO THE ENTIRE INTERNET, AND THE ENTIRE SATANIC WORLD. I HAVE NO DESIRE TO PARTICIPATE IN YOUR EVIL WICKED WORLD.

Now for all my friends out here in the black file agencies:

You know dudes and duddesses, your logic is so far up your butts, it makes me exceedingly sad.

Instead of working with me, to combat this ES-IF thing, you chose while I was a child, to make my entire life hell, and to destroy an innocent person, that never did a thing to you. I only created 'Magnesonic' AFTER already knowing that something was wickedly wiping me out. It was not until after the DOOGIE HOWSER CLUB decided to choke me to death with one of Moses' Death Android Sky Poison Assaults that I fought back, and built that mother fucking machine. You are all a bunch of mother fucking worthless evil whack jobs. Now look at the mess this all is in. Do you really think this time line was meant to be like this? Go ahead, look at the stinking evil shit all over the internet, and the world. Look at the rotten bastards from fucking hell, and their entertainment industry. Do you think that any of this would ever have gone this far, if you did not try and choke me to death in 1983? This is not where the splice was meant to be left off, and you all know it; you fucking worthless bastard liars.

WELL PEOPLE, YOU ALL LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT THEIR EVIL STOCK MARKET WOULD GO PAST 14,000, AND UP TO 50,000. WELL START WATCHING IT, AS HERE WE MOTHER FUCKING GO, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GINA!

MORINAITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00033, BLOG-A

January 23, 2013, 12:16 PM-EST at Fort Pierce, Florida

Well, at this time, according to the news, the Dow Jones Stock Market is up about 80 points, and nearly at the 13, 800 level, just about to cross the ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, meaning that the evil rich people have never ever had things so good or their way in everything so much. Did I not TELL YOU ALL FOLKS, THAT THIS WOULD ALL GO DOWN THIS WAY, AND DID I NOT TELL YOU ALSO, LOVELY GIANT GINA?

It is now an early mother fucking Wednesday afternoon. My entire life is over. Everything that I ever tried to do has been completely ruined and wrecked. I live around people who sit around every second, with nothing else to do, but to figure out ways to persecute me, and make me totally mother fucking miserable, 24-7-365.2422. On top of all of that, my life, and its general magnetic condition, or agreement with cosmos, in all general things, (LUCK); is about as down, and low; as ''Ice Tea's'' Fun Group for fagots.

Let me stop this blog for now, and get dressed. My AT&T installer is here, to bring my internet back to me. I knew I could not exist without it, and am only left to seriously ponder on what this culture will do, somewhere between the next 30-50 years; when all of the world's oil reserves run out. We will not return to the life of the 16 hundreds by the way, because in those times, those people never knew 'technology'. They knew how to live off of the land, just like you, me, and a dog named Flee if you want to rhyme this old sixties tune. This entire new age world of folks will not just be plunged into outer darkness, but it really will feel like the ninth circle of fucking hell when it happens, because the masses will not know how to function with no power grids, hence no electricity, and no gadgets run off of this great item working for them any longer, and even more horrible; most products made today, could not be made with no oil coming our way; as they are nearly all what you might think of as partly, if not totally; 'oil-byproducts'. So laugh now, you wealthy WORLD OWNERS, and your silver spoon up your ass offspring, from the Kardashian scum bags all the way to any celebrity or wealthy person, whose name you may have ever heard. Their time in the sunshine, is all waning down, like a disappearing moon, night after night, and then it is all gone. For what has been done to me all of my fucking life, you all will pay a very steep and hefty price, so be warned, and be careful; and yes, old friend Regis; tell 'Paula' to watch her rotten back too; and that I am not one bit scared of her, and her friends. I may be no perfect little choir boy, but I never went around destroying the lives of innocent peeps, as did Callio and McGuire, and the list could just keep right on going, like that 'anti-gift' that keeps on taking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am now hooked back up to the internet, and the installer has left. It is ten minutes before two this afternoon. The Dow Jones is up nearly a hundred points, as it is just about every single day this year in 2013; and my entire year as a result, along with the garbage Philly Flyers Hickey/Hockey team back again playing and kicking ass, just as I said would all go down folks; has left my life in ruins, and shambles, at the speed of mother fucking light squared.

So let me end this blog, and try shooting up the entire blog, which may be too large, and if so; then it will be done in piecemeal. Maybe that is best anyway, and even if I can get the entire blog up in one fell swoop, I will still be making individual re-posts of much of this major fucking material, as my entire life has been totally destroyed by the ''IF'', and this evil has been able to accomplish this, and get totally mother fucking scott free away with their dastardly deeds!!!

Anyone who can believe in a loving father god of the bible, is the biggest dam fool in the galaxy and beyond, OR, they just never have bothered to read MORIANITY 1 and MORIANITY 2 from cover to cover. Now that would be some reading, even for Patterson and Tolstoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION:

MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00032, BLOG-B

It is only minutes after I ended the other blog. It also is mother fucking eleven-eleven, in the mother fucking morning, and this is not going to be a good cunt eating day, after a major clock attack from Jane Shit Head Bitch Weeds Fonda; along with the nabes, and noise, even though it is not real loud, and also; along with a major fucking cock sucking sky attack, and especially a fucking ass slew of nasty ass

CHEMTRAILS.

You can add to this list, the computer, even totally off line, is playing games with me, and hacking me. It is not internet, or the machine itself; nor is it any person or group. It is the power of a teasing energetic entity and its surrounding controlled reality, to contact and then go onto take control over some (REALITY-CHUNK), as was all fully explained on enough previously blogged texts, so as to make sense enough to readers, to at least, agreeing or not with me on the issue of its reality; follow along, and not be in the dark about what my words are discussing, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I left the Avalon Recording Studio yesterday, around the middle afternoon somewhere; I stopped at two stores near my residence, on the drive back home. I bought a few sixty cent VHS movies at Good-Will, and a three dollar pack of chocolate mini-cupcakes with colored dots on the frosted icing, and some liverwurst. As soon as I left the grocery store, to go to the Good Will, just down the way, in the same shopping mini-mall, at Virginia Avenue, and Route 1; a loud and low private Cessna type aircraft, flew right directly over me; and instantly, I began to get shit cramps; and when I got home, I needed to take a nasty shit, all though I had all ready done so, before leaving in the late morning. So I have been under some nasty siege now starting around the era of just past three yesterday afternoon, and it is still nasty and fucking ongoing, and I cannot fucking wait to post all of this shit up onto the internet, and get some real heavy and major fucking ass revenge. As you know, they got their dirt bag way, and the evil Hockey Season is back once again, just as what happened in 1995, that totally led me into complete fucking cunt devastation, and obliteration; as a paralleling ass result, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, I am hearing that musical modulation, that hockey fans know so well; only I am hearing, not GoogleX4, followed by 'G' is the antichrist, but instead; “FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, AND SO FORTH. I have always sung that along with the organ, ever since the late fucking cunt lapping nineteen eighties, when this twisted disease all got started, between this hickey team and myself, huh STM © Office?????????????????????? OUCH, take it easy with me, Mizz lovely Delaney, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe for you, it's endless 1969. Time moved on for the rest of us, there, sweetie pie. Well read on folks, and see how this machine is electronically, in direct contact with my MIND; to make me hellishly fucking miserable, and totally BOTBAR!

I WILL BE TALKING TO DEBBIE IN A FEW MINUTES, AS SHE SHOULD BE HERE ON MONDAYS. THE SUBWOOFER ATTACK IS HORRIBLE AT 11:44 AM. No sooner did I hook up my roachphone system, which is headphones-directly-attached to a phone receiver, this began; and there is no way that ''THEY'' can hear any of this. Wish me luck, as I am throwing on a pair of pants now, and complaining. This has been bad all morning, and now they are cranking it way up after being told that they must remove this box. This never misses one fucking cunt lapping single beat, ladies and gentlemen. MILK strikes me every single cunt lapping year. I like the dude, and he was great; but something about him with me, is just like, Christmas, my own fucking birthday, and music, and so many constantly never ending other items; that just serve to crucify me, on a regular fucking ass annual basis, year after year, and decade after decade; and with the 'KING SHIT', ever since my long walk, in Blackwood, New Jersey, in the deep snow; back in 1978, over to a closed bank, on Doctor Martin Luther King Day, when out of nowhere, and with no proper informing of the public; it just began; as I was not the only one waiting out in the cold, and the deep snow, over on the fucking Black Horse Pike, in Blackwood, New Jersey; for the Bank of New Jersey, to open; and of course, it never fucking cock sucking did on that day. Well the same thing just happened. I went down to try and see Debbie, and she is here on Mondays and Fridays with regularity, and of course, dumb retard me, is thinking this is MONDAY, forgetting all about the three day King Holiday, that just past. All I knew, was this was the start of the work week, so it must be Monday; and Debbie Morotto is here in her office on Monday; and when the guard lady at the desk smirked and said to me that she is here on Monday, I finally caught on, after looking like a total mother fucking retarded cunt ass lapping rotten stupid shit swallowing fool. I obviously do not need to tell you that this mother fucking day is now BEYOND SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, and that both the month and the year 'MPB', is now at six for twenty-two (6:22), or 6 times 100, divided by the days in January as well as the days of 2013 so far, 22, same thing exists on the first of all the twelve months each year quite naturally folks; so this is now where I fucking cunt stand peeps, YO, at 27% Magnetic Percentage for Botbar or (MPB-27%) for short, BRAHHH!!!!!!! Yes folks, there's no need to wish me any luck. However, I will e-mail Debbie that the box is back, when my AT&T service arrives tomorrow afternoon. I have no intention of waiting for fucking cunt lapping FRIDAY TO ROLL THE SHIT AROUND! She'll have the e-mail by end of tomorrow's fucking business, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! OK, with nine days left in this 2013's first month of JANUARY, I am holding at MPB-27%. Every one of the next nine days would need to pass by, without becoming a BOTBAR to bring January-2013 a 27% BOTBAR, which is bad enough. How the fuck would any of you 'normals' out there, enjoy living at a rate of just over one out of every four cunt eating days, being super horrible bad, or BOTBAR?????????

Just think about it seriously before you switch over to the 'NEXT-BLOG' button, and laugh me off, YO, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew that those major fucking dreaming interactions, would as they always seem to do, cause a nasty fucking BOTBAR DAY FOR ME AGAIN, so new kids and old kids, YO; here we go, and yes, 'again', whether you want to hear this fucking shit or not, SIRS, Marcus, and McGinty, WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

Now I'll ask my 'GAGA CAT', just why this horrible shit has fucking cunt struck me today, after getting through my first five full NON-BOTBAR DAY STREAK in several months of time now????????????????? The answer GAWKY just gave me folks is PCN-541. Here are the canons for selection that I deem most fitting from my total complete and whole (holy) match-book for the 81 GAWNUM NUMERATIONS:

GRACE MESSENGER---WATER---WILLIAM CLINTON---YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN THE SHOP---ROBERT CHEATLEY.

But there is way more to talk about now, at three fucking ass minutes shy of eleven of the clock on this Tuesday evening, January 22, in 2013, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET THIS, and PUT IT ON TOP, Mister American Express Twilight Zone Goldsmith Troublemakers, old cavemen and computers!!!!!

I had a very long talk with Gawky Gaukauk today, running a lot of question-equations by him, ''MEOW'', and they say life's not fucking stimulating, and exciting, for the poor 99er peeps; like little old me, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I do tell about this major discussion, let me lay the foundation. I had a major dreaming interaction last night, and no people, very rarely do I intentionally actually do ''DREAMING'', and just like you, most of the time, my nocturnal activities are merely done to rest my body, just as you all do; and only on the rarest occasions, do I perform intentional activities, that may qualify me for a hopeful someday acceptance application, into the most secret and exclusive club in this entire galaxy, and even far beyond it; the 'EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND', as only perhaps once or twice a year, do I intentionally go to sleep, with intent to become a full TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. Even though however, I was just, ''in a dream or (having) a dream'', and not in any way was I dominant over my doppelganger so-called ME-CHARACHTER, but was the normal recessive character just sort of watching, and observing the on-goings; through this transdimensional other me, which is why so many dreams are described by so many folks, as sort of like 'watching a movie'; and they would not be entirely wrong in their simple concept of this more complex truth. I remember this extra vividly, and the very extra clear and vivid type of dreams that normally wake us with a bang, and remain fully remembered for quite a while in our consciousness; are thought of in future times, as TYPE-2-EXPLORATRONIC ACTIVITY. Only the awareness that you can go from a recessive to a dominant switch over of your own self, and then doing it for short durations, is considered total type-3. Now in my interactions earlier this morning before arising from bed, here is what happened. A man who is very evil, and who I have seen before in 'dreams', not often, but he is there, at post offices, at houses I am in and once with my daughter back on June 21 of 2008, and a few other times in the twentieth century as well, and was at the library here in Fort Pierce, as an older man, but it was him, as there is no mistaking those glarry wild eyes, and whoever he is, both my daughter and myself, become very defensive around this man, at least in these other parallel realities, that in 2013 and back before this year, are just called, and mislabeled; ''dreams''. When this prick appeared to me on the first day of summer in 2008, Dawn King was shortly released from a rehab clinic up in Seacaucus, New Jersey, almost a year ahead of a mandated legal schedule for her to avoid spending a five year stretch in a woman's state prison, and the judge in Atlantic County who sentenced her, was involved in this case of legal public record; and is a man who I am very proud to know, as he is also a recovering AA member, and this would be the Honorable Judge Mike Conner. Down here in Fort Pierce, back in 2010; right after this man appeared at the library, and became physically aggressive with me; my blogs would not work for about 40 days or so; and I called that time in my blogs, my TWEETY-BIRD, and my ROCKIN' ROBIN TWEETS BLOGS. It is all up there, in the late summer time of 2010, at this address link: http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ and you can click on this, and search this era in time; and see proof of how these POWERFUL TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, such as this ''man'' or entity, without upsetting the Project Bluebook folks too fucking cunt much here, YO; can indeed effect alternate realities, from the one where they are dream-controlling in, such as his getting physically aggressive with me in what you call a major vivid dream, and then right after that, at the very spot where this happened, HERE, my blogs were totally interfered with, and stopped; or {(SANCTIONED)} if you will, for about seven weeks; and causing their evil DOW JONES STOCK MARKET TO SOAR, as I'm sure it did today, probably hundreds of points, after screwing up my life, and persecuting me so mother fucking relentlessly. I will go on to continue laying my foundation now, by telling you that this man was in last night's interaction, along with me, and my mother; and these three characters are all that I can consciously remember in 'waking world' right here and now, so really, two characters besides my own doppelganger there, that I was watching this all through. My mother insisted that my name was Mark Wayne, so that had to be my name over in that other parallel universe reality. But this man is aware of me in numerous parallel universes, telling me that he must therefore be a real TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON or for short a (T3E). He was a horrible criminal there, and was telling my mother some really upsetting and monstrous despicable shit. Both of us were leary and frightened of this fucking jerk off, and with good reason. He is a very freaking dangerous 'T3E', and means normal 'T1E' folks like all of us, NO GOOD AT ALL, and this is what the PROJECT BLUEBOOK UNITED STATES AIR FORCE, totally knows of, and is keeping quiet. This is not just about a few silly hundred little gray things, or a few hundred little space ship toys. My life and what I know, spans way beyond this entire fucking cosmos, and if any and all of my viewers want to insist on being endless Missourians and GWIPOSIANS, then fine. You are all entitled to your 'Michele Daniels RPL-1980' Recording Studio Opinions, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This strange entity was upsetting my mom and I, and telling us why the floor in one of the large three rooms that for some reason that I do not know now because this 'me here' is not that me there, but a parallel universe me; was all broken up in one corner area, OH SHIT, it just came back to me, as I typed this folks. He said that it had to do with being taught a lesson by the great LAMBRIGG CULT of Paul Stoddard King ll, if I can throw a little bit of stair chase humor in here; to overcome some real agony, and LFLD; and that since I was trying to teach forbidden things in alternate realities, about hyperspace, and how to manipulate it, before being officially initiated into the 'SUPERMIND SYSTEM'; these corner areas of floor in these three large empty rooms in this large house that my mom and I seemed to totally own free and clear over in that alternate reality; would be there as a reminder that I was using the picture-puzzle example of being able to change small reality-chunks of 'STM', without altering the larger-picture in the ''truth/reality'', such as the corner of these rooms being broken up, while the rest of the floor remained in perfect shape. Then he grabbed my fucking right index finger, and he took a weird razor blade type of an instrument, and cut my finger at the inside and middle, right on the outer third tip of it; only it did not bleed, and after he did this; he said, ''Jesus said the power is in the blood, but I tell you, that the power to keep your blood, is in the finger blade''. I now remember that word for word, but only after I began typing about this strange dude (T3E), or as my old pal Congressman Andrews, said as a teenager so often, and so perfectly; or, ''whatever''. While I was showering two hours ago or so, I cut that exact spot on that exact right index finger, only it never bled, as the cut was not quite deep enough to get the great 1969 Roseann Delaney all wet and excited. Then he told us, how he is the reason that so much criminal stuff happens to me; and that it is a lesson to teach me things that I still have refused to accept and or learn. My mother began to shout at him to go away, but he gave her a powerful shove at that point, and she fell to the ground; and her face began to bleed from hitting the side of one cheek hard, against a coarse surface. I went to give him one of my non-elevator-Cifaloglio 'AT&T karate' Chucky Norris 134 moves; but just as I did, he pointed that same finger, only his finger, his right index finger; and it was like being in a fucking old 'Bewitched' show, when one of the witches would freeze one of the mortals, right in the middle of some action. All that is missing here at this point, was a mess, thinking about those two comedians from yesteryear; and being shouted at, by an old German distant cousin, the husband of my mother's First Cousin, Ruth Huntington; the Long Island Banker, named Heinz Gottwald, residing at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York! Aniwho, he threw me into the air, and right on my ass; just by waving his arm and finger up a little bit; and he left me to come slamming down onto a bunch of pottery; smashing it all to bits. My mother began to scream and cry, and yell for help; and the man began to walk away from our house, but as he walked away, he threw a large red ball right at me, and I was quick, and I caught it with my hand. It was rubber, and about five inches in diameter; and after I caught it in one hand, it began to separate in half. Inside of it, was a note, folded into fours. I opened this ball up, and unfolded this note on yellow lined legal paper. This note told me the following information. I remember these words exactly, and I MEAN EXACTLY, YO! There is a GAWNUM compatibility with the PCN'S of these two sentences. ''I cannot win as well at roulette'', and '' When my enemies attack me''. This is the part that was with me vividly, when I jumped out of bed to a lot of neighbor noise, early this morning; while they were really fucking going at it. I wrote this down, and planned to just blog that small amount of information, but WOW, did more shit get remembered over the hours of this fucking day. Yes this very fucking ass SUPER BOTBAR TIMES ONE DAY, FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, Jane Shithead Fonda, you fucking got me again, with your lousy rotten stinking ONES, as this is PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN. So let me fucking now try and 'cunt-phlegm-rape' or (COMPENSATE), for this fucking rotten shit you did in '93.

55555555555555555555555555, PLUS 555555555, TIMES 555555555555, AND DIVIDED BY 55555555555555555, IS EQUAL TO WHO COULD FUCKING CARE LESS????? I JUST NEED TO STARE AT THESE MOTHER FUCKING ASS FIVES, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So after I was awake, and wrote down the two sentences given to me in this note from this ALIEN or T-3-E; I wanted to see for myself, so I got the PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER FOR THE QUESTION PART OF THIS INFORMATION, AND IT IS THE SAME AS MY OWN PCN, NUMBER 871, which came out late last autumn in the Florida State three digit lottery by the way, so I will bet my kid's will be coming up soon as well. THEN I GOT THE ANSWER PART OF THIS PCN, AND IT WAS 374, ''BUT'', that is only half of THAT equation, right, oh great sir ROCKDROID KIRK HOTELPRICES? Then I added up the two PCN'S, for the compatibility calculation; and sure enough, 374+871 is equal to 1245, and this indeed, is a compatible answer, for that question. Thus, ''I CANNOT WIN AS WELL AT ROULETTE'', ''WHEN MY ENEMIES ATTACK ME'' just as the GAWNUM EQUATION SAYS!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, that still ain't all she wrote, whoever she really is, and whatever really got written. Before the very obese, and horizontally challenged, PC lady, sits down, to sing to us all; there was another thing that happened in this wild DREAMING INTERACTION. On the wall of the largest empty room of these three total empty rooms in this house, where I lived with my mother, in this parallel universe, where my name was Mark Wayne, and not Mark Mohr; and I was about thirty years old, and my mother was again only in her middle-late sixties, as she was around age thirty five or so when she bore me, in this universe, and also so it seems, in that one as well; but there was indeed, a very bizarre item, hanging on the wall of this one empty room. It looked like a very rosy red large picture portrait frame and it contained a picture of a large lake, and only a large lake; but written on top of this water, in bright green and bold letters; was a message that went as follows, and I remember it vividly. “Sarah Krassle and Mark Mohr” “The PCNT proves that they make beautiful music together”. Well, I know what a 'PCNT' stands for, and you may or you may not. But it stands for a ''PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER TOTAL'', such as when you add up two or three of these numbers, to do a compatibility test. Well, I thought I'd shit in my pajamas early this afternoon, after coming back into my apartment, from trying to see Debbie, and forgetting what day it was because, and again, of that dam KING HOLIDAY, as ever since 1978, this has been a super THORN IN MY SIDE, and I mean no god dam frikkin disrespect to this fantastic great dude and champion hero of CIVIL RIGHTS!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, I added up the 871, and the 363, which is the PCN of 'SARAH KRASSLE'; and what is this total, as all musicians can relate to this counting sequence, but like frikkin DUH, it is 1-2-3-4!!!!!!!!!!! So take 1, or take 1 million; Library of Congress, Office of Copyrights, YO!!!!! If I had to WOW this, in an apropos font size; what would it be, a thousand, a trillion; you decide, and then tell me someday, somebody, OK????????????????????????? 55555555555555555555555555555555555

No, not a fifty five decillion size font, as that would be too big, but I sure like looking at the number of fifty-five point fifty-five decillion, YO. W-----O----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I HAVE NOT BEGUN TO DISCUSS THE SORE SUBJECTS OF THE AGENT CONDOR/AGENT FALCON UFO COVER UP CLUB OF WPIX CHANNEL ELEVEN NEW YORK CITY TELEVISION.

Just wait for blogs that get posted up after this one huge monster blog goes up, after I AM all hooked up later today, as it is now 16 minutes past twelve midnight, on January the twenty-third, on an early Wednesday MOUUUUUURNING, here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG, and here in this reality, and universe, of atomic agreeing dimensional pulse.

MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00031, BLOG-A

January 21, 2013, just before 8:00 this Monday evening, YO.

Now we will do what I said would be done a few blogs ago, tell some 'Q&A' information from GAWKY GAUKAUK'S great numerology system, that is beyond the fathoming mind.

But first, I went to the Port Saint Lucie, Florida recording studio, called, Avalon, today' and things happened that cannot be told, but I will tell you that STM is, ''alive, and well, and living here'', to quote the great man of religious faith, ''on Planet Earth''! On the drive home, I stopped at two places to purchase items that only cost a couple of dollars, and now am down to my last two dollars, that must last me for the next twelve days, al though in eleven days, my meager sixteen dollar EBT food benefit will be in.

I never told the Walgreen Story, but parts of it from the past, are all on numerous and previous blogs. It seemed to begin shortly into the Christmas Season of 2011, just over a year ago. I told about the strange little girl with the karaoke machine in the store, and singing, what is this, a fucking bar or a drug store?????????????????????????????? Well, in any case, that was my first clue that trouble was ahead, and that I was in no cunt lapping way, imagining anything, right Mister David Leigh Zenkiss Smith, of 1970-Haddonfield-Einstein-Blackboards, New Jersey?????????????? WOW!!!

So it began with this weird miniature karaoke being sued by this little brat, in the pharmacy up there at the corner of Twenty-fifth and Orange Avenues, right after I was taking my ex-computer guru, Meagan, back to her house up on Twenty-Third Street, and we passed a young dude in a small park type of area, with my exact keyboard amplifier, and then a very short while later, at the pharmacy, this smaller version of the very same make of my unit, and the unit I saw being used on the street by that dude, from my car that day; along with the illogical usage of this device inside of a pharmacy, by that bratty girl, who was singing, and seemed to begin after I arrived; as the machine was there when I walked into the store, yet it was not used until I walked on past it a ways, and towards the area of the pharmaceutical prescriptions counter. She was staring at me as I exited the store as well, and I just ignored her. Men my age cannot look at children, especially females; or else we are all considered to all be perverts; in this new age and new world total disorder. Talk about pendulums swinging too far, and forgetting to accept gravitational pull-back reality, or 1983 songs that I wrote from my rented home in Atco, New Jersey, am I correct, old pal, Mister Magic sixth dimensional Mailman, Adam? Then after this music crap, I began being short changed by exactly one of my medicines every single time; month after month; receiving only 59, and not 60 of my very necessary medication pills, called 'generic ativan' or 'lorazapem' tablets. Then back last autumn of 2012, I finally spoke up about this; maybe it was the late summer. I had already been robbed at the mother fucking Hutchinson Island beach, and lost everything, from my carry bag, my eye-glasses and case, my clothes and underwear, you name it' right out beyond Mike Patterson's Beach-House rear yard, on the beach, and just as in Hyperspace twin locales, where only months earlier, I was up in North New Jersey, and had all of my stuff stolen there, by Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston, and all their friends, and again; this was what you mortals call, a ''DREAM'', and is all part of the larger fifth dimension of reality; and all connects up together, RPLDD all notwithstanding. Now after I used their own little device that counts and sorts or whatever, as I called up ahead of time and asked if I am able to check the amount as I am always one pill short, the manager said, that is fine; and the pharmacist was told that I would being it, and I did do it, when I came in that time, and sure enough, because they knew I was going to count the pills, there were the total of 60. But right after that, it went right back to 59, 59, and 59, shorting me by one pill every month. So I complained again, and that is when that identity thing happened, where out of the blue late last year sometime, I was told that someone was using my identity, and they did not want to get the police involved, raising a huge red flag for me, and this too is all blogged, and is back in MORIANITY-1, and on my SAFE JOURNALS. This was their way, in my definite opinion IMDO, and not IMHO, 'netters'; that I was being intimidated, as I was even told that until the situation could be straightened out, that I may not be able to fill my prescriptions; and day followed day; until I told them, that I would bring in the police; if they did not get to the bottom of it; as when it's time for me to refill my necessary meds, this is a serious matter, and they indeed need to be refilled, and I cannot be concerning myself with all of this fucking hassle. After-all, none of this was something that I had done, and was in no way any of my 'own Oprah' fault!!!!!!!!! So I laid low-land, and allowed one more refill to be filled, and yes, with only a count of 59-pills, and then I went early this year, to the other branch here in fucking Fort Pierce, of the Walgreen Pharmacy; the same distance away, only not on Orange Avenue up in the hood, but along route 1, right opposite of my Cheryl Crow TD Bank. DID I SAY, WOW? Where is my beautiful 'WOW' truck, TD, I really miss it; so please bring it back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It makes me feel closer to the All Mighty SSJKK, when I am in my darkest days and hours, of this cursed, hellish, nightmare existence, that other folks might mistakenly call, 'my life'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So now, I deal with the same pharmacy, ''WALGREENS''; but at a branch, where, unlike up in the ghetto-hood across from the HARVEST where I used to work through the AARP Program out of E Street, in Washington, DC-13-600; AHA-AHA-AHA Mister McNulty, YO; now it is across the highway or Route-1, from my TD Bank, and that was the day that I told you that I was not going to be more specific at that time about my errand, but that I went someplace, and hundreds of beautiful crows came all around me and followed me, and then when I went to the store a few hundred yards down Route One from there, after that, to my south; the Winn Dixie, for a few grocery items; the MUZAK system activated within seconds of my arrival into the store, and the recording artist, Cheryl Crow came on and sang that stupid mid nineties hit of hers, about 'wanting to just have her stupid ass fun'. What garbage, all the way from Fort Pierce Route One, to Hollywood Boulevard, sweetie; and Michelle Daniels told me, that I AM entitled to my opinion, back in 1980, so I am assuming, new weird odor or no new world disorder, that I still am, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA Mike McN!!!!!So now both the meds for keeping my blood pressure lower, as well as what I have been forced to take 4mg of every day, ever since July somewhere, back in 1983, when the great Doctor Frank Addiego, prescribed this for me, to stop the horrible never ending Angelique Dark Shadows Roseann Delaney chocking condition that on me out of the fucking blue one night at exactly 10:30 PM, on the night of June 4, 1983, at the Atco house, rented from a Mister Gerald Pliner, owner of the L&S Nursing home on Jackson Road in Berlin, right lovely luscious Jay-low Diner Door Swinger, WOW, don't ever swing on me. You'd crush my fragile little body into a million pieces of glass, you lovely goddess. Now this is the story of how I bided my time, and strategically, and Paula-carefully-WAYV-FM, got not only far away from her Atlantic city people of horror and terror, but away from that intimidating Walgreen Branch, that I gfeel, if the agents and FEDS reading these blogs would adequately do their jobs; would start investigating them, as if they did this to me, they may be shorting other meds customers, and if they short 50 people and get away with half of it, that is 25 times 12 months, times the street value of pills like mine that are probably around fifty bucks each. You do the math, every year, some employee there splits with the manager, if my theory is correct, somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 times 12 times 50 dollars; and that's a nice hefty little pile of fucking chump change, YO!!! Peeps that are no good thieves and robbers, have hurt me and taken from me, and robbed me, all of my god dam mother fucking ass life, and I am getting sick and tired of it. Why should I have to fucking feel sick one day a month, so these two would-be, should-be, rat scum jail bird bastards, can split roughly fifteen grand???????????????????????? Do the mother fucking math, AGENTS READING THIS BLOG, and I will gladly sign an affidavit that they were shorting me up there, and then intimidated me after I tried to get them to stop it, just call me or visit me, FBI, I LOVE PUTTING EVIL ROTTEN THIEVES IN PRISON, and have DONE SO, in the past, ask the fucking ass CAMDEN COUNTY, NEW JERSEY PROSECUTOR if I am telling it straight or not, with Marc Marini and John Crowley. I hate fucking evil criminals, and I hate thieves worse than I hate those who assault and even murder, because I've been the victim all of my life of so much thievery and out and out stealing, from direct tangible property, to intellectual property, bringing me to a really heartbreaking topic that will close out this blog for the day, folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOUR ''ODF'' HACK, you rat bastards. I caught it, and repaired it, HA-HA-HA-HA, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!

Now, for the GAWNUM Q&A, that many have been awaiting, and hopefully, quite anxiously. So here we go, in or out of copyrighted early eighties, 'regular time'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After we get this GAWNUM querying out of the way, I'll end with a little disappointing heartbreak. I grow more and more heartbroken the way my lovely incarnated Sarah Krassle distrusts my motives, and thinks I could care less about money. This hurts me more than anything she ever could say about me, or do to me, right down to her going as far as to cause the next great OJ TRIAL. But first, the GAWNUM:

QUESTION NUMBER ONE:

WHY DID THE HUGE BACKOFF OF SIEGE AND BOTBARS, BEGIN ON JANUARY THREE, AND LAST FOUR DAYS, IN 2013; AFTER THE MONSTER ASS ATTACK OF THE SECOND DAY IN JANUARY; AS THOUGH A FEW TINY HOURS, LITERALLY SWITCHED ME INTO AN

ENTIRELY NEW DIMENSIONAL REALITY?

ANSWER NUMBER ONE, PCN-220.

QUESTION NUMBER TWO:

WHY DID DENNIS CHASE MORGAN FROM PUBLIX WHO I MET AT THE LOCAL LIBRARY ON 18 DECEMBER OF 2013, SUDDENLY TURN AGAINST ME WHEN I DID NOTHING AT ALL TO DESERVE THIS BIZARRE BEHAVIOR ON HIS PART?

ANSWER NUMBER TWO, PCN-176.

QUESTION NUMBER THREE:

WHY DID MY ACROSS THE HALL SCUM BAG HORRIBLE ROTTEN NOISY NEIGHBORS, PERSECUTE AND HARASS ME WITH MAJOR NOISE LEVELS AND BULLSHIT, FROM LATE INTO JANUARY FIFTEENTH ALL THE WAY INTO LATE INTO JANUARY SIXTEENTH?

ANSWER NUMBER THREE, PCN-781.

QUESTION NUMBER FOUR:

WHY AM I EXPERIENCING THIS HORRENDOUS BOTBAR TIMES TWO DAY, ON THIS NINTH OF JANUARY OF 2013?

ANSWER NUMBER FOUR, PCN-682.

QUESTION NUMBER FIVE:

WHY AM I GOING THROIUGH SO MUCH SUPER NASTY DEATH SIEGE HERE ON JANUARY EIGHTEENTH OF 2013, SKY SIEGE AND CHEMTRAILS and OTHER BAD OTAMMIC ASSAULTS?

ANSWER NUMBER FIVE, PCN-220.

QUESTION NUMBER SIX:

WHY DID 'GOOGLE', TAKE AWAY MY ABILITY TO POST MY YOUTUBE PROJECTS, DIRECTLY ONTO BLOGGER DOT COM BLOGS, FORCING ME TO USE ONLY A YOUTUBE LINK NUMBER THAT NOBODY WOULD USE OR CLICK ONTO?

ANSWER NUMBER SIX, PCN-413.

OK good folks, now here are the major and main items, from my match-book lists (canon) if you will, selected by me as most important, for each of these six (PCN'S) or PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBERS, listed above, that came out on random card draws, as explained in many prior and not Richard Blogs, for querying the GAWNUM, along with full instructions such as compatibility checks, branchcodes, and other things as well, pertaining to developing skills for operating the GAWNUM WISDOM.

Only five things will be typed here, as PCN-220 was shown to be my answer on two occasions. We will therefore begin with that number, and then do the canon lists of the other four of them.

PCN-220*******************************************

BOOK OF BEACH---JED CLAMPETT---DONNA SUMMER---TEENAGED GIRLS FLIRTING WITH ME IN MY FIFTIES---LIVE FOREVER---ASTRAL PLANE---SANDRA MASON---MARIAH CAREY COMING TO ME IN DREAMS---HIP HOP MUSIC---MOUNTAINPEN---GODDESS JEHOVAH'S DREAM---

PCN-413********************************************

SONG---ZERO---APOLLO LUCIFER---HELL---GIRL---BURN---ROBERT MCGUIRE---ATLANTIC OCEAN---MEDICAL OFFICE---SWIM---SCYLLA GODDESS---I HAVE LOST BOTH MY DAUGHTERS FOREVER---

PCN-682*********************************************

TALL GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH---PROJECT BLUEBOOK---CANCER---QUEENS---THE MORNING LIGHT---BEAVER---MOVING---TWENTY---PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING MACHINE---

PCN-781**********************************************

CREATOR---BABYLON---MICHAEL PATTERSON---JULY TWELVE NINETEEN SEVENTY---BUZZARD---BALLOON---GODS DOG---PROPHET OF NOTHING---EXTREMELY VIOLENT---

PCN-176***********************************************

P---TWO THOUSAND THIRTEEN---THAT FAMILY---NO FEELINGS---FLIRTATION---SHE LIKES ME---PAULA UWICH---JIMMY LEEDS---CREEPING UP---SUSAN BOYLE---HUNTINGTON---OHIO AVENUE---DISCO MUSIC---ROBERT LEVY---ROGER CAREY---GEORGE BUSH---FORT PIERCE---ICE MACHINE---EXPLORATRON TRAVELER---

Now people, I forgot the seventh question that I had asked about a week or so ago, and received the answer to, so I'll do it as one thing here, the question, the PCN answer, and the match-book items or selections from my list (canons) that I decide to make public for view, as they are the most powerful pertinent things to my own personal life and all of its interactions.

WHO OR WHAT, WAS MOSTLY RESPONCIBLE, FOR MY MOTHER BEING STRUCK DOWN, ON DECEMBER 26, 1997; WITH A HORRIFIC ILLNESS, THAT WENT UNDIAGNOSABLE, AND LEFT HER LINGERING IN EXCRUCIATING MENTAL AND PHYSICAL AGONY, AS A RESULT; UNTIL THE DAY OF HER DEMISE, ON MARCH THE FOURTH, IN THE YEAR OF 2000?

PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER-363 WAS THE ANSWER GIVEN TO ME BY THE GREAT CAT, GAWKY GAUKAUK!!!!!!!!

ITEMS MATCHING THIS NUMBER and SELECTED HERE, ARE:

SARAH KRASSLE---REAL GOOD GIRL---AUGUST FIFTEEN NINETEEN EIGHTY SIX---TABLE FIFTEEN---'STAR TREK' SHOW---BOY---SIN---JULIA ROBERTS---NATIONAL PARK---TOY---CAT---SAD---BOHEMIAN CLUB---VIQUEENS GANG---TOP---TRANSMISSION---NEW---

Now for the frikkin upset of upsets. Some rumors circulate around that are off base and about as true as a magicians hat or a flying rabbit inside of it. It really pisses me off to see that people do not take a good hard look at the fact that the internet is a totally reliable source, and really what is; for getting at the truth. After-all, I know it has my family about as fucked up and incomplete, and totally god dam sanitized as a hospital closet full of bleach and sterile cleaning solutions, all mixed in with sike wards and special education classes. There are some folks that have recently brought to my attention, a terrible and totally false rumor about me, my YBCO song from last year that originated from my old 1983 GITYA, song, and today at the Avalon studio, another source totally confirmed for me, that many peeps in power, think that this is some attempt by me, to take some kind of action for this entire messy business, in a court of law, the very furtherest thing from my mind. I cried all the way home in my car from the recording studio. I am not the least bit interested in anything like this, and if I ever find out who started this horrendous monstrous rumor, they will be harshly dealt with, and wish they were back on a rack during the times of the Inquisition, next to what I'll do to them. Nobody is going to turn the great SSJKK against me, and get away with it. I want nothing at all from her, only for her to be happy, and if she so chooses to keep me away from her during this lifetime that we are both in, then that is her frikkin business. I do not want anything from her, other than for her to show me that she is happy, and has overcome as best as she can, some of the past. I am proud and honored at what she did in 1997, and I only wish her the best on her new project as well. Heaven only help whoever is trying to spread this newest crap, because I will gladly go to prison for life for cutting out your mother fucking heartless heart. Only a totally heartless mother fucker could start something like this about me, after all I've

suffered through, and her as well for that matter, so if you act totally heartlessly, then I'll make sure that you will be as heartless on the inside, as you are on the frikkin outside, so watch your fucking ass back, whoever is behind this little Pizzeria rumor, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mow I know why GOOGLE has interfered so dam much with this song getting looked at, as well as anyone being able to get to my account at all up there, ever since last summer time when all this shit with ''YBCO'' all began, so FUCK YOU EVIL WORLD!

MORIANITY-2

JWC2, DAY 00032, BLOG-A

Half past ten on this Tuesday morning. The nabe is a bit noisier than its been over the MILK HOLIDAYS. Doors, voices, music, doors, the entire thing has been going on since just shy of fucking nine this morning, BUT, BIG AS BUTT, and ''FUCK THIS SHIT'' or ''MY'' intro's, and etcetera, folks; it is subdued and not real loud, merely a lot of activity around the place, let me now check for aerial harassment. As expected, the fucking cunt lapping CHEMTRAILS are also on a roll these days, the last dew days they were there, but today they are quite major around my area and this PH Building here in Fort Pierce, Florida, and I plan to be spending the day playing MORIANITY TAPES through the PEDERSEN ROACHPHONE SYSTEM for major retaliation, and counter striking measures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The big joke will be on the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, (IF), when I get reconnected back onto the internet tomorrow by 3:30 or so in the afternoon, and I post this monster, several hundred page compilation mother fucking blog, up to both my sites, the WORDPRESS, as well as BLOGGER. Someone will be real sorry then, about all of this fucking mindless stupid ass death siege on me; you cock sucking rat ass bastards of folly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yesterday managed to hold a NON-BOTBAR, by the skin of its teeth; after something that I was led to believe would happen, again, disappointed me; as well as the incident about the rumor of my plan to sue my daughter, which is totally absurd, and katiedeeeeeequlous as anything ever can be, with or without any kings, queens, techno-pop music, other impersonators, or other early eighties songs written by Mark Wayne Mohr. Today will not take as much shit, as my mood is all ready lower, to botbar me. All ready, at mother fucking 10:41 AM-EST, I am just about as low as BOTBUR. If this does not climb out of these doldrums later today, then when the day closes out, I will be breaking a nice little NON-BOTBAR streak and have to close out the twenty-second fucking day in January, as another of so many ratings of '2-2-1-1', as my old LIFE CHARTS would numerically reflect. As long as the SSD income holds, the first digit that is a job rating is not a one, and as long as the clunker car is operational, which for several days late last year when it was not further lowered my (PM) 'Personal Magnetics' by producing a second digit car rating number of ONE, But BOTBAR days as long as the car is operational, and I have an income of at least 8 bucks monthly, adjusted from my set standards and cost of living changes from when I began these LIFE-CHART-RATING-SYSTEMS, back in the summer time of 1982; and since my monthly monies come to 979 without abny of my once held part time jobs, since Jessica Grant fired me last early middle March, just around the time my studio job ended back in 1981; this is all that I have to work with, and it ain't much, and it ain't pretty. So when I am 60+% MPB as I was in December of 2012, or 2-2-1-1-, some of those days were actually as low as 2-1-1-1, during the week that my breaks were locked up and I had no drivable vehicle. I used these complex life math formulas for many years, from 1981 when I created them, straight through summer time of 1997 at the Somerdale death house, when one fucking day, I could not take it anymore, as every single fucking day there was BOTBAR while I was at the height of my NIGHTMARE FUCKING SEARCH FOR THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE, back in those days of hell and fucking total terror, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Last night or really this morning, I was having major vivid unpleasant dreaming interactions. It was similar to where I was at the Egg Harbor, New Jersey school during an outdoor roll call, and my teacher again was Misses Marola, and she called out the name Mark Martin, and my mother who was standing nearby with some friends of hers, yelled over to me, “She's calling your name, tell her that you're there”. Well, my name would have been Mark Martin, but let's not rehash now, why my father joined up at age sixteen, illegally, with the United States Merchant Marines, as it pertained totally to this incredible embarrassment. Still, last night, she was calling me Mark Wayne. As you know, I am Mark Mohr, and Wayne is indeed my middle name, and that is all that it is. I use the Wayne for a middle initial, unless I use my full three names legally, when buying houses or cars, or copyrighting music, in fact, I think now as I type on, that I only use all three names fully, at the Copyright Office, as so many of my distant MOHR cousins and non-cousins, have exploded into existence out of nowhere. When I was growing up, the Mohr clan was very rare, maybe as many a thousand in the entire country. Now there are many thousands of MOHR'S, all over the place, and many in the entertainment industry, and many hold copyright registrations. I am luck that I foresaw that eventuality as a youth and young adult, and always used all three names, all though, I think on their registration forms, they require the full three names, and that is as I realize now, a good thing. Also, after a name is pulled in a search, then a title of the work is searched for. Even though titles cannot be copyrighted, it is doubtful that anyone has a matching title for even just a first and a last name, but I am pretty sure, they want all three names used on the forms now that I think back. The last time that I copyrighted anything was when I sent off my 2007 project on Halloween day in 2007, the thirty-first day in October, mailed from the Mullica Township, New Jersey Post Office, on route 30, or the White Horse Pike, late in the afternoon. Now in the unpleasant dreaming interactions from earlier this morning, my mother was talking to either a police person or someone else in some authority, about some crime committed against me, and was calling me the name of Mark Wayne. I was obviously visiting a non-localized parallel universe and was a normal TYPE-1-EXPN that was merely the abcessant personality inside of the dominant personality of Mark Wayne, over in that parallel world, where Mark Wayne was my name, just as in the Egg Harbor interaction, back in late 2008, while living with the Washcloth Family in Hammonton; I was Mark Martin. Only I was young, and still school age then; whereas earlier today, in that interaction; I was fully grown, and not school age; and somewhere in adult life, but younger; where my mother was alive, and way before the days where she got struck down hard, with that mysterious illness, on the day after 1997 Christmas. Let me begin a new blog for the new date now, and I will tell the stories as they unfold, as I am expecting a roof collapse very soon, so BYE.

MORIANITY-2

JWC2, DAY 00030, BLOG-B

January 20, 2013, Sunday evening at 8:20-PM-EST.

Things are going on peeps, that if I ever told the details to it all, and you ever believed me, and you were a non agent audience of at least a few thousand strong, the entire world would fucking collapse overnight, but take heart, as this does not in any way reflect my motives as evil. If the world as it is right now collapsed, and reformed, I will guarantee one thing here and now folks, and that is, for about nine point nine out of ten folks alive, things would begin to drastically improve, at least for a short while, until evil power structures, would inevitable reform and reshape all over again. You see, it is not important enough, by the standards of the World-Owners, the (WO), for them to succeed, but even more important, is that everybody else, FAILS. I did not invent or make this up in any way, and if you wish to prove me right, just get a copy of the Superman Three Movie, with the great African-American comedian of all times, Mister Conscious Mind Blocked Presently, but when I think of it, I'll add it in later on the blog. This is intentional PAWN-PIE-ETTOS, the great LAMBRIGG CULT tool and weaponry of choice, but it is a lot more than it sounds on the surface, as a traveler-technology is what is being used, to cause a transmission as well as an omission of my thoughts, or yours, at any time that they so desire to have this happen to us. And no, not Eddie Murphy, from TRADING PLACES, the other dude they are blocking out of my consciousness right now for reasons that only THEY know and fully understand and appreciate. He calls, Superman, his pal, 'SOUP' in the movie, shortly before the lightning computer kicks in towards the end of the movie from when else but 1983, when many things were in very ''special stages of ops and planning, by very special folks''When you get that tip of the mind memory that you just cannot bring to surface total awareness, be it remembered dreaming interactions or incidents such as this comedian from the Superman movie, it is because, THEY are playing around with the 'reality-chunks' around us, to cause this, and it is not an actual transmitted interruption of MIND-SIGNAL from the sixth dimension into our fifth dimensional hyperspace lives and realities throughout virtually limitless infinite parallel time alterations, and by altering things just a little nit around us, this blocks that connection to us, or in some case, causes false memories, or false as what is a real part of our own memory system in our own universe where our own mind and life exists in as waking world reality. For the few who believe this a little bit, and understand all this a little bit, your next thoughts will obviously be, and police love to ask this question to victims all the time, well shy are THEY doing this to you, as if any of us can know this and properly respond to such a stupid ass fucking query on their asshole part. Still, ''that's just reality, son Dennis''. I must do it now, it fits way too well not to do it folks, so here goes, and again, new and old town kids of early 1978, YO, W-----O-----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally typing on and on about what these TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS are doing, causes them to stop the travel shit, and release the normal connectiveness, and yes, it just happened, RICHARD PRYOR, thank you for confirming, and whether or not you choose to believe this is real or 'textnopopped', the All Mighty knows ity's real, and that I'm not lying or faking, as I was about to type that normally, they release the fuck-up-fields, so to speak, when you do not try to consciously remember what they are blocking, but continue to expose what is happening around you, and I was about to write that I wonder why it is taking so long, when BANG, they released me from it, and so I typed in the name, this is more real and exciting than 5000 fucking best Hollywood thrillers, and only I understand and fully appreciate the totality of why I make that statement and claim, good folks, YO!!! Yes, the 'W' word in FONT two million, so picture it glowing, and glistening, and glittering; along with the great fifteen year continuum, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, right SSJKK? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Now, more about the sub-particle-Trinidad (Trinity).

We will discuss only one part of this amazing whirling maze called the realm of the smaller than atoms, (subatomic), like another Hyundai, DUH from OH-M-6, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What you need to know if you want to ever climb out of a type-zero civilization (what we presently are in 2013), and begin the climb up to type one through three, is the knowledge that the electron is highly intelligent, and just fakes out to be random, to play her endless game of confusion to those not yet wise enough, Roy Carl Weiler Senior and secret museums, to climb out of the caves, and down from the frikkin chest banging trees.

First off, without understanding that single truth, I would have no mother fucking way of knowing the truths around me, such as why all my music was created, and all fully copyrighted, when I was never meant to have a professional career in the field of music, and then taking and projecting that forward, without paying anything, literally and jokingly; how this music all fits together into the picture-puzzle of my own fifth dimensional life in hyperspace, as well as beyond that in a much truer reality, called, the ASTRAL-PLANE, or the spirit-world, depending on a personal preference of words used to describe a totally twin and equal reality, or lack there of really, to some degree, WHAAAAAAAAA, keep it light and laughable, and remember who taught who, right Robert Heitzmann Huckleberry Finn? Now the first thing that 2013 needs to understand, but won't until you change the second digit from a zero to a one or make the 'binary change; if I can add some more STC humor, hurry up and get beat up; but yes, moving on; and dealing with lots of horse shit and horse play later on down the great Academy Road somewhere, of more MIND ALTERATIONS from the 'travelers of Roddenberry rip offs'; but yes Mister DATA, it is a huge compliment, to be mimicked; and I do need to learn, and to remember that, so thank yo; oh great 'DROID' of the NON-Q-GIRL-GODDESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The world of the very small, perceives things in bigger worlds, in its own ratio and proportion to sizes, and this fact I just typed, is worth millions if not billions if not trillions of United States Dollars in cash or GOLD, it is priceless wisdom that I am giving to the world, and if it survives, will indeed be passed down to the future, and allow this part of the hyperspace, to indeed begin to advance out of darkness and out of a type-zero-civilization, YO. Now for those that ask how I can speak about type 1-2-3 civies on one blog, and type words seriously, on another blog about the 'antichrist', it is no different than my humorous ghetto talk, BRO, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am just playing around, YO, lighten up like Sarah's desires in the future that cannot all be realized, and learn to laugh, peeps, it has saved me from hellish extinction into a bottomless bit of beyond grief and agony. Just remember who taught my great daughter, at least, looking it things, as I used to call it, “in forward-mortal” view, and now would merely say, SPACE-TIME-MIND, as in higher truth, we are dealing with All Mighty Scylla-Jehovah-Goddess, and that cannot ever be altered, that condition is simply what IS REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, if you have made a copy off of your computer, whoever is reading this, of that post up from technical musical coolness, or TMC for short, and not standing for any movie channels on television; onto some device, you know that you can switch gear consciousness without a cosmic clutch, and hear the words in your mind, of four Google's, and then during the music track after this, add in ''Google is the antichrist'', you will know that this is all just my STM going wild, sort of like the girls on Spring Break in Cancun, May-He-Co, only we remain totally frikkin G-RATED, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now let us return to the topic of direct communication with the subatomic particle known as the electron, or the Holy Ghost, if you wish to change into a yesteryear and biblically adapted wordage. I am going to catch super holy hell when I post up this monster huge frikkin blog on Wednesday, but that is for me to worry about folks. You just read and learn or laugh, sawn you folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here we go, in or out of copyrighted regular SPACE-'TIME'-MIND, US © OFFICE!

Now that we have gone deaf from some wild weird off the wall fusion type drum beats from the late eighties, YO; let us get back on track, as WOW, I have made it back, and the electron will indeed confirm this with a bright FLASH, dancing in the skies with lovely Jenny Biel and her pals Pete Bellote, and Georgio Moroder. Wow, get with it, Spell Checker, I thought I was out of the culture and back in the musical stone age with Glenn Miller and Count Basie.

Now these small particles observe the larger than atom realm as way to gigantic to perceive past a horizon. This is why we also, cannot see past the visible universe, and have a million unenlightened explanation such as light velocity, and other items in the science world that supposedly cause this phenomenon. Atoms merely copy the larger truth/reality that surrounds us, and there is an infinite dimensional reality, or virtually infinite, that is all created by the sixth dimension of the MENTAL-REALM, with or without any cement businesses, or great actors and screen play writers, such as Frank Capra, and James Stuart, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to the orbiting electrons, AKA the 'HOLY SPIRITS' when not properly understood by a high Type-1 or better civilization. Holy comes from a truer meaning of ENTIRE or without anything less than the fullness of something, or the word of ''WHOLE''. The orbiting electron are the whole picture of why our reality is made up of the elements that it is made up of, and all of us and all of our lives and all aspects of them, are all just a tiny little truth that lays within this larger reality. There has been some effort after 1983, when I discovered the electron to be intelligent and sentient, on the part of the blind ignorant scientific community, to try and communicate directly. They used all sorts of things and fell under the spiritual MAYA or 'illusion' that I was wrong, and that these particles are random energies that are not sentient, but that is all because of ignorance. These particles only see our picture-puzzle realm as chunks, where we see that around and out beyond us, is a STM created cosmos from within ourselves. Smaller particle energies only see smaller bites of the apple. To compensate, you need to teach the electron a code, that is in entire sentences, not single letters that correspond to a numeric conversion and then expect a randomizer to learn our humanity code and talk to us. It cannot see that, any more than we can see with our naked eyes, a germ, or a microbe. But enough of them interacting upon our bodies, and we get effected, or ''ILL''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The same truth needs to be applied to direct particle communications. When this came to me, for reasons that only can be perceived by those really understanding complex channels of STM, so there is no need for me to try getting into these details with you for right now; this is when I made up SENTENCE-CODES in 1983, and started communicating with this All Mighty Entity, DIRECTLY. Probably, the STM reality, is my genetics back to the younger brother of the great Master Messiah Jesus, but who can know for certain? Still, since my contact, LIGHTNING has become anything but random with me, and so have all of the Earth nature forces. The odds of all that has happened to me in this interaction, with the Earth energies, such as its biosphere oceans, and electromagnetic field; are equal to winning the Powerball Lottery every week for life and forever. It is just not possible, NOT TO ALL BE TRUE, and so I pound little keys for 7 mother fucking years, screaming out to a blind world filled with assholes, and nobody will listen. This is real joy! Now for those who scoff and say, then why don't you, Mark Wayne Mohr Buttwipe, do some big things with all this knowledge, you are proving only that you are not grasping and getting any of this powerful message. The forces of my personal ''IF'', my INTERACTION-FORCE, or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, has been set up to stop me, and I do fight this, shit in case you've not been noticing, and I do this on a 24-7-365.2422 continued basis. If my blogging career that now spans 7+ years, is not proof of that sentence and claim, I honestly do not know what ever could be, good people, YO!

If I cannot make anyone see what is going on, after all this blogging, and all that has happened out beyond the ''inner-me'' just in these past seven years, well, I will just have to admit defeat on that front, and totally and finally just quit and frikkin give the shit up, as what else can anyone really expect me to do. Who else out here has blogged stuff like me, posted stuff like me onto the Youtube, and on and on and on I could go, asking these questions to any and all of you, on your end of the net? If you were me, what the fucking shit would you do, go ahead, tell me, I won't bite, I just bark a hell of a lot, Roseann Delaney; and even she is safe to be around from 8A-4P, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OUCH! But in all honesty folks, I used to have all kinds of stuff back in the eighties, and it was all slowly and very fucking ass methodically taken away from me, in ways that no police person or prosecutor ADA or anyone else for that matter, can ever help me to prove in a real waking world court of law, so my ''IF'' has totally won the battle, as of 9:40 PM-EST on this twentieth day of fucking ass January, here in twenty thirteen! I had all this stuff. I had a 40,000 dollar home entertainment system, tens of thousands of tapes, both audio and video, special equipment all set up that directly was in communication with All Mighty Jehovah, this all happened, this all was very real. This all IS REAL, OR ISRAEL if you want to entertain this goddess of endless games and age sixteen-ness. Still, I'll love Her and do love HER, for and IN all ETERNITY AND INFINITY, and that does not change, not yesterday, today, or tomorrow. However, SHE is a major huge tease, and my mother recognized this back in the eighties, and just for that and maybe a few other little things as well, this cost her her life. Life never ends, but I am speaking in powerful truths that are way beyond any of you here in 2013. Now, I have nothing. I am down here in mother fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, with absolutely nothing. I have no equipment, no money, ''no nothing'', more STM, oh great BEG?????????????????????????????? Folks, it is now tomorrow, referenced to yesterday when I was typing this blog, and we need to close this out before another page Jane Sleazedisease of Jane Sleazedisease strikes on the following word document page, so my next blog will be started and this one closed out. Bye-Bye, peeps.