MORIANITY-4-THE ENDING OF A WEIRDAY

'MORIANITY-4'

COMING TO THE END OF A FAMOUS MWM WEIRDAY.

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It is a third past eight of the clock in the evening, Thursday, February 14, 2013. So far, there have been doors, a fire alarm, a water boil county alert for the county of SAINT LUCIE, what's next, how-bout the nuclear plant blowing up, that would solve all my problems, or would it, copper eyeball route 45 of Woodbury in New Jersey in late 1985?

Folks, I have nothing against anyone, it is the world that has hated me first, all along, and always has, and I'll tell you something else that might just put some starch back in your underwear. This may have had certain illusions that caused me to think that a few times in my past, were points of precise beginnings of some type of unspeakable monstrous evil, but in truth, this half truth is inside my own unintentional deception. We all tend to kid ourselves, especially when we need answers to shit in our lives and none are ever there to be found, or if shit is so painful in our frikkin lives, that we need to rather than go totally fucking insane, such as when I told that lie about July 12, 1970, on that frikkin Public Transport bus that ran locally along the White Horse Pike, from the Atlantic City Public Bus Terminal on Arkansas Avenue, all the way into the Public bus Terminal of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I was wrong, and lost my credibility with that one lie told, on Morianity. Lots of shit in my blogs are my best guesses, but that is the only direct lie I told, and I told it because I was making myself believe that the great SSJKK cared enough for me in this life, to stand up for me, when in reality, she could fucking care less if I had been underneath that god dam bus that night and was crushed. To her, I am just a game and something to have a hell of a lot of fun messing with, and I know this, I'm not the fucking retard she thinks I am.

Doors, doors, doors, and more doors, what a fucking pain in my ass. How I love living in apartment buildings and complexes. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I posted up the blog before this one, I laid down for what I thought would be a ten minute nap, still depressed from my hellish fucking life as well as the hyperspace journey and facing jail time in a part of my fifth dimensional existence. I found myself back at the same flagpoles over in that Port Saint Lucie shopping center mini-mall, and I was so happy that I had removed the three weird red flags that I had hung upside down, and realized one was the American Flag, and I had them all folded and in the trunk of my car, which over in this parallel universe, was a very large an old Cadillac, similar to the one that Stephen Moroni had sold to me back in 1977, while I was employed at that Westville, New Jersey print shop by the name of Mars Graphics. Suddenly I was in the car and driving back to my residence, only it was back up in the hood, at 25^th and Avenue E, in Fort Pierce, and as I drove in the gate, my wife greeted me, that girl that used to live next door to me in that duplex home, managed by April Klee and her dad, Raymond Bailey, don't go there folks, not with them, not with me, not with Paula King, not with the Pharmaceutical Company of teen make up back in 1988, just don't. Thank you. Ani-ha, I was married to this girl, Wendy, in this other universe, and she was not like she was here with a very unpleasant personality for the most part, and was very nice; and more like the girl that Gerald Pliner, of the Atco, New Jersey, L&S Nursing Home; had married. I remember telling her I needed to keep the flags in the trunk and had somehow gotten into some trouble with them, and when I walked into the house, four police officers were waiting to arrest me for the murder of my mother. I told them that Senator Thompson knew all about this investigation, and of course, I had indeed, remembered this other parallel universe now, where those two young teen males were electrocuted by him, for stealing some of my cassette tapes with necessary evidence on them that proved I did not murder my mother. This is all on old blogs from the first few years of blogging, the time era say of 2006-2007, before the Chapter began called, 'The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version'. Still, I found myself cuffed and taken to the police station, and then released after a booking, and there seemed to be no bail in this parallel universe, and I just kept my mouth shut as I was being processed and released. I drove back again to the house, only this time, my daughter was there waiting for me, with her family, all of them, all the cousins, all her own family, you name them and they were there, talk about a real motley crew. She asked me the second I walked through the door, to follow her upstairs. There are no stairs, not in this universe, where I AM back here now, and typing this blog. Still, I followed her to what here was a bathroom, only there, it was a long additional hallway and at the end of it was a stairway leading to an upstairs, and I went up with her, and she told me that I would be retaining an attorney, and to call him as soon as I get up and awake the following morning. I asked what she meant, and she gave me a number to call in that other universe, over here, I have no clue who is on the other end, if anyone at all, of this number, but I remember it clear as shit right now, and never wrote it down because it so so vivid, it was 1866-999-4546. This number in that universe is the number of some real hot shot law firm in Manhattan who would be defending me, and now here I am losing my mind thinking, what is happening to me, I was all ready going to face charges locally and thought I had escaped that by getting those fucking ass flags down without being caught, and now, THIS!!!!!!!!! then suddenly I heard shouting and angry voices and thought an argument was going on downstairs, only I had awakened out of this, and into here again, where my nabes or somebody outside was shouting and making very strange sounds. I think it was a bunch of utility trucks, but it could have been my nabes, I just cannot be sure. It only lasted a minute, and when I got up, I realized how late it was, half past four in the afternoon, I had been back 'asleep' for hours and hours of time. Then I remembered the entire nightmare of being faced with prison not once but twice. Some wild shit is going on, it must be! You cannot be experiencing one particular type of ordeal such as facing going to prison, over and over, with nothing going on somewhere, that's causing this major nightmare dilemma. Jim Burr put it quite eloquently a long while ago folks, ''Stuff doesn't just happen for no reason''. He is totally correct, and even Bruce Pennock would say this is a 'perfect' statement, and that's sayin' something, even for Billy and Sally, and Paul, and all these blow hard ingrates.

A moron can see that something huge is up. How much longer I will be alive, semi-rational and sane, or free to operate without prison confinement, I do not know. I do know that my knowledge and wisdom and truths, ARE INDEED A MAJOR THREAT, TO LOTSANLOTS OF FUCKING POWERFUL ASS PEOLE, and that does not take some great fantastic ass rocket science to know it, nor does it take any 1995 diner rotisseries, or sticking my arms out in front of me, while thinking about moving forward. I know what I am capable of doing, and I know I have enemies; and so did David Fucking Charles Roth, folks, and he said something, Billy, and the entire US © Office, has the tape, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What are you up to these days, Joan Lap Lanes. You were not imagining what you saw that evening, Joan Baby, gravitation has no effect on me, because I understand the STM truths.

Well, let me post this blog, and relax with a little dinner at quarter past nine of the clock on this nice cool evening, cool for Florida that is, or cool for time warps, warm holes, Cooley Halls, mysterious Christmas Singing angels, and Medical Center television shows with interesting fictional character names with bombs inside their dads, as well as future angry wife abusers. I AM so thirsty, I will now post this up and drink some nice cool orange juice, but not out in the hall, that might be a little too cool, right 10 Kal Coolio? Well, I learned long ago, that even in the middle sixties, the entire fucking EW seemed to know all about poor little fucking ass me, pity party aww time, tears tears. SCREW-U!