'MORIANITY-4'
STILL
MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS YESTERDAY, DESPITE HELL X 10
4:38
AM-EST, FRIDAY, MARCH ONE, TWENTY-TWELVE
The
machine has been major hacked, Fibbies. Maybe is you who are doing
it, in any event, please do your job and protect a legitimate citizen
and his rights to express his free speech under the First Amendment
of the US Constitution, thank you folks.
Yes,
after the hacking struck me at eight, I played two roulette system
games, losing two units on game one and making four and a half units
on game two, for a daily hit of plus two units. To not be out a loser
was a miracle, as this was a very freaking lousy day. I was helping
my pal Mikey do some errands, as he recently had some surgery on his
hernia and cannot drive until next week. Every single time I ever do
good things, I get horrible strike backs from cosmos, forcing me to
believe, that maybe even if there is a real and decent 'god' for all
of the rest of you lucky cock suckers out here, THERE IS ONLY A SATAN
FUCKING DEVIL, for me and in my life, and this has been going on for
my entire human current lifetime or 'ADD', Astral-Plane-Dream-down;
and this is nearly sixty mother fucking years now, so that is a long
pattern to not be made fucking light of folks, YO. I do not do good
things as many do, hoping that the wheel will swing back your way,
but because I feel we are all here to do more than try and make a
trillion dollars or be be selfishly happy or whatever is turning on
the garbage majority world population this past few decades or so. I
really want to be able to help out and do good stuff, what the
fucking shit are we doing here for crissake? So why I am punished for
doing good things, I mean I could see a neutrality, but to have a
pummeling every time by some cosmic fucking unknown force, well; this
leads me to be able to only conclude that for me there is only a so
called 'devil', and that this devil, IS GOD, or better said, GODDESS
ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lucky seven, huh, OYR. Tell me where the
next bridge is that you wanna' fucking sell me folks.
Ever
since the UFO shit began getting real heavy after the Roswell, New
Mexico incident, something has indeed happened, and exactly what, if
anyone tried to pretend they know, you should kick them right
straight to the nearest curb. Watch out that their pants do not
ignite yours while doing so, also. I never claimed to know it all,
only that I know what I do know, and that I will jump on band fucking
wagons about. As for 99+% of all the shit going down that has no
rational explanations in the natural orders of things, hay, I don't
know shit from fucking cunt shoe polish, and don't ever misread my
words in Morianity, please, and take anything that I've ever said to
mean that I know it all, as I have vehemently preached that I DO NO,
all throughout my 7+ years of my blogging career. I only know that a
lot of things that are not in the interest of the fucking MAJORITY,
all began right around the time the atom bomb was first exploded
twice in Japan to bring the greatest war so far fought here on Earth
that we know about, to a close. One was the great Bureaus of the USA,
and out of this Bureaucracies, the covert black ops ones being the
specific ones I am referring to here. Still, I feel the very four
syllable word printed above,speaks for itself. Study the the second
half of the word, pronounce it, and come to see that all things tell
stories, if we are looking for them, that is.
Again,
I have nothing against the Dow Jones, but I told you all for seven
fucking years, that these bastard Wall Street billionaires are
intentionally making my life a perpetual nightmare hell, causing a
parallel event of their evil markets to rise. They know exactly who
to bless and who to curse, and who to leave neutral, it all has been
experimented with by the black ops cove agencies, that, and many
other unspeakable crimes against their own citizenry, World Court at
the frikkin Hague. I have no particular love for the Phillies and
Eagles and Sixers, or hate for the Flyers; but I merely know, and
fully understand, how this nightmare fucking parallel event is real
and being used intentionally on me, destroying my entire life that
I'll never ever fucking get back, and these prick bastard bitch
licking sewer scum got totally away with it from 1983 through 2013
and counting. Mighty-nite good SHEEPLE and people. Time for Chemtard
Mountainpen to sign off and post, YO.
MORIANITY-4
SUPER
HACKING ON THE COMPUTER, FBI AND FCC:
16
MINUTES BEFORE CUNT LAPPING MIDNIGHT, ON
27
FEBRUARY, 2013, MAJOR BAD FUCKING ASS LICK DAY:
FBI,
FCC, things are REAL FUCKING BAD.
The hackers are making my cunt lapping fucking jerk off life A LIVING
FUCKING NIGHTMARE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Microsucks
Corporation put updates on the machine, they do not need to ask, they
just do it, as though they FUCKING OWN YOU, AND RULE OVER YOU, AND
THEY DO. WE THE SHEEPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, IN ORDER TO SUBEXIST
AND BE ENSLAVED, IN A LESS PERFECT UNION; HAVE ALL OF OUR RIGHTS
THROWN OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW, BY THIS NEW AGE FUCKING GARBAGE, OWNED
BY THE DIRT BAGS OF WALL STREET, AND THESE BILLIONAIRE BASTARD SCUM
BAG GODS, WITHOUT HUMANITY OR CONSCIENCE WHATSOEVER. Now I cannot log
off and back on without the magnifier program coming up on the screen
all weird and fucked up, and I have to 'EX-out' of the entire program
that I should be able to keep at the bottom of the screen, as they
have hacked into me, Bob McDowell, FCC Chairman, and OLD SCHOOL PAL
FROM 1971 AND 1972. These cunt lapping rat bastards are making my
life total misery; where they fucking endlessly steal my life, my
property, keep me down and out and ignored, and laugh and mock me
every chance that they get. The reason there has to be a fucking
hell, is because there is just no way that this kind of fucking pure
evil can just exist, and with no place awaiting their evil cock
sucking rotten fucking souls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It all started at the
dot of fucking eight of the clock, the screen came on dimly and the
sleeper orange light became bright blue, and I was not anywhere near
the mother fucking cock sucking machine,
ACLU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What
I have ever done to any of these mother fucking cunt eating twisted
diseased total pricks, stretches very fucking ass far beyond
my wildest imagination, ladies and freaking gents,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told what Scott Ransom said in my bugged
car in 1988, I told about my uncle denying a loan, but I have no
proof to substantiate anything. For all I know, Patty fucking
Hollister and her great friend Santa are behind all of it. Who can
ever mother fucking know, with this diseased cunt eating group of up
chuck? I try and stay to myself, and fucking mind my own business;
but there is no escaping pure fucking evil, and their endless
ruthless rotten fucking ass games,
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WATCH
THAT DIRT BAG STOCK MARKET FLY ALL WEEK
LONG, JUST AS I FUCKING TOLD YOU, OH GREAT GIANT FUCKING GINA
OF THE NINETEEN-NINETIES, YO YO YO YO!
Mighty-Night
folks, their fucking evil might, not ours, 99ers.
MORIANITY-4
I
TOLD YOU GINA, AND I DEMAND MY PROPS, FOLKS
6:26
PM-EST, WEDNESDAY EVENING, 27 FEBRUARY, 2013
JUST
AS I TOLD YOU ALL, AND I TOLD YOU 2 GIANT GINA. The DOW JONES
INDUSTRIAL AVERAGE STOCK MARKET has flown RIGHT TO THE STARS THIS
WEEK, and is up at record high territory, and WILL BE CROSSING OVER
as the next and final two business days of this week come into being.
It is just under 14,100 points now, and just a few points UNDER THE
ALL TIME RECORD HIGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
was all accomplished by persecuting me with continuous NOISE ATTACKS,
PROPERTY DAMAGE, HEALTH ATTACKS, AIR PERSECUTION, and a lot
more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also,
if I could have capped into my last blog, the movement as shown on
the stock index charts, on the internet page; instead of what came
out, and was posted up earlier; I may have been able to slow the
momentum of this evil monster run away locomotive greed train down,
but NOW, 'IT IS TOO LATE', TO QUOTE LOVELY ALL MIGHTY ISIS.
I
MOTHER FUCKING DEMAND MY PROPS, PEOPLE. I TOLD YOU THAT THE MARKET
WOULD FLY, AFTER A PISS POOR ROTTEN WEEKEND, GIVEN TO ME BY MY FILTHY
DISEASED EVIL MOTHER FUCKING WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
ENEMIES OF THE ''IF''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go ahead ladies
and gentlemen, and just keep right on doubting poor old puke chewing
chemtard Mountainpen. Now, he is having the last laugh on you'alls.
Here is where your great APE-ICPE cheated DOW JONES will be, as the
weeks and months keep rolling along.
End
of March, 15,000 points.
End
of April, 16,000 points.
End
of May, 17,000 points.
End
of 2013, 20,000 points, JUST WATCH AND FUCKING SEE AND I'LL BE RIGHT
THERE TO HOLLER OUT, TOLD YOU SO,
TOLD YOU SO, AND YOU ALL FUCKING
LAUGHED AT THE
CHEMTARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where RU when I need you, oh great PRINCE,
as my kid thinks I lost it a million years ago, only I did not; not
it, HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am in no mood for fucking waaaaaaaabits, or McNulty jeer laughs
today. Screw the mother fucking world, at the speed of light squared,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
OF BWOG, ELMER DICKHEAD FWUUD!
MORIANITY-4
IF
REALITY-3 IS REAL, LIFE IS ALL A HUGE CONGAME
11:28
PM-EST, TUESDAY NIGHT, 26 FEBRUARY, 2013
Folks,
the stock marked flew today, as a result of a huge siege and
persecution against me all day long. Fire alarms, utility harassment,
hacking, cramps, loud noisy neighbors, major telephone creditor
harassment in the morning, and the list goes further; and we need not
touch on every little thing. Despite a really bad day, I managed to
make 6 units at my systems-roulette, bringing me to 13 units over and
above my systems crash of 22 and a half units, about ten days or so
back, or a ten day total P&L of 35.5 plus and 22.5 minus, or net
profit of 13 units. Seems small, but I am lucky to eek out a lousy
unit and change during a time where the DOW JONES IS FLYING UP TO ALL
TIME RECORD HIGHS, JUST AS I TOLD YOU THAT IT WOULD, and I
also told you that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE uses PARALLEL EVENT
TECHNOLOGY or PET, in order to gain these evil criminal trillions on
the streets of demonic wicked Manhattan. I want this made exceedingly
clear folks, I have nothing against capitalism. Only the evil deeds
of using or misusing and abusing would say it much better, the
technology of APE or ICPE-TECK, same basic diff folks; do I, or would
any rational sane mind; find 100% totally objectionable. You cannot
walk over me and squish me like a fucking worm just because it gives
you a great day. THIS IS A MAJOR VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL, HUMAN, and
CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, as a LEGALLY BORN CITIZEN OF THE UNITED
STATES; not created on an RS-1500-US open reel mastering recording
machine.
I
asked the GAWNUM TECHNOLOGY or the GAGA kitty cat, why this day was
so filled with heavy pummeling and siege by my enemies, and was given
the answer of PCN-514. Here are some of the powerful items that are
inside of my match-book for this number. Don't turn the page and die,
'daddy'.
KING
NEBNOOSHOO-----ENDLESS POVERTY-----RUSSELL
THAXTON-----BEACH-----CURLS----- as well as the great message on
Isis's web-page in OHM-8, great Mister 1969 Ciprionni.
In
case I forgot to tell you folks, GAGA gave me PCN-936 when I queried
the kitty cat on why my tire was made flat almost two weeks ago. Most
of you know how to work the GAWNUM, and have your own lists either
from my past blogs, or from things that you have worked out for
yourselves. I asked why the powerful dream came upon me where I had
to see that horrendous violence with the pick of the goddess, aha aha
aha aha Mike McNulty, and that was an error by the way, I do not
intentionally ever make ethnic slurs on my blogs, like if spelled too
quickly can be quite offensive to the Jews, and so can Mc if spelled
out. This was not done on purpose, and is why I hate blogging on
sites that ********* bleep you out if you so much as type in that you
have a cute little pussy cat, or say ass much, with a second 'S'
getting typed in by sheer typo error. When I want to get mad and say
something, it will be said, and it will not be some frikkin typo,
good folks. I told both Mashell Daniels and Dawn King on more than
one occasion, when they said to me, ''Are you being a smart ass'',
that I promised them, if I was really meaning to be one, you would be
punching me first, and then asking questions later; as I knew their
quick tempers very well. If I am really pissed off at anyone
anywhere, I will come right out and explain it in vivid technicolor
freaking detail, and you will not be left as a 'HANGING' HUNTINGTON
OR HAMMONTON; or whoever you might be. I promise you, YOU'LL
KNOW!
But will you
ever know the powerful truths of and about, a subject that I have
termed many times, ''REALITY-3''? Well, if so, please share, as I'll
kiss your ass on top of the Empire State Building at high noon with
the major networks all tuned in, if that is what would be desired,
but to be frank and honest folks; I have not been able to ever
determine with totality, if there is something that is going on that
acts on both me one way, and then these other things around me in the
opposite mode and direction, and you all know by now what these
things are, as they involve the winning or losing of the
Philadelphia professional sports teams, and the New York Stock
Exchange, and more specifically, the mighty evil crooked DOW JONES
INDUSTRIAL 30 STOCKS.
I am not able to
paste in the way the attack worked today, the CAP would not work and
I could not show the exact way the markets moved along with my day,
pretty clever, as I could paste all this into my blog, just not what
I wanted to. WOW, ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Market Data
Currencies
-
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
EUR/USD
1.3061
-0.00
-0.02%
EUR/USD 
USD/JPY
91.9200
-0.05
-0.05%
USD/JPY
GBP/USD
1.5113
-0.00
-0.12%
GBP/USD
Commodities
-
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
Gold
1,611.60
-3.90
-0.24%
Gold Apr 13
Silver
29.19
-0.07
-0.22%
Silver Mar 13
Copper
3.59
0.00
+0.08%
Copper May 13
Oil
92.64
0.01
+0.01%
Crude Oil Apr 13
Bonds
-
Treasury
Yield (%)
Yield Change
5-Year
0.76
-0.01
TreasuryYield5Years
10-Year
1.88
-0.02
CBOEInterestRate10-YearT-Note
30-Year
3.08
-0.01
TreasuryYield30Years
ETFs
-
ETFs
Price
Change
% Chg
SPDR Gold
156.22
1.88
+1.22%
SPDR Gold Shares
iShares Si …
28.41
0.34
+1.21%
iShares Silver Trust
SPDR S&P
150.02
1.02
+0.68%
SPDR S&P 500
iPath S&P
24.93
-0.63
-2.46%
iPath S&P 500 VIX ST Futures ETN
MARKET MOVERS
Most Actives
-
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
BAC
11.13
0.10
+0.91%
Bank of America Corporation
VXX
24.93
-0.63
-2.46%
iPath S&P 500 VIX ST Futures ETN
SIRI
3.06
0.03
+0.99%
SIRIUS XM Radio Inc.
INTC
20.58
0.35
+1.73%
Intel Corporation
ZNGA
3.36
-0.07
-2.04%
Zynga, Inc.
% Gainers
-
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
CMGE
9.59
3.79
+65.34%
China Mobile Games and Entertainment Group Limited
CWH
24.40
8.55
+53.94%
CommonWealth Reit
SPEX
10.07
3.45
+52.19%
Spherix Inc.
IGZ
3.00
1.00
+50.00%
IGZ (Listing Market NYSE Arca N
MNOV
2.98
0.84
+39.25%
MediciNova Inc.
% Losers
February 26, 2013
AUSTIN, Texas (AP) — Former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush and his rising-political-star son, George P. Bush, spoke together Tuesday in Texas on education issues, and both men resisted efforts to get them to talk in detail about future political plans.
Associated Press - 1 hour ago
WASHINGTON (AP) — President Barack Obama promised this time would be different, that if he won re-election, a Republican "fever" would break and legislative gridlock would ease.
Associated Press - 6 hours ago
Market Summary
Select a portfolio
Sign In to see your stock portfolios »Dow
Dow Jones Industr...
13,900.13
+115.96 +0.84%S&P 500
S&P 500
1,496.94
+9.09 +0.61%NASDAQ
NASDAQ Composite
3,129.65
+13.40 +0.43%FTSE 100
FTSE 100
6,270.44
-84.93 -1.34%Market Headlines
Barnes
Group Inc: Fundamental Stock Research AnalysisQuotes are Real Time from Nasdaq Last Sale when available, or delayed from primary listing source. Currency in USD.
-
THE SYSTEM WILL NOT PERMIT ME TO CAP IN THE MARKET ACTIVITY
FOR YESTERDAY, BUT IT REFLECTS PERSECUTION OF ME AT TIMES WHERE
IT NEEDS TO GO BACK UP, SO IT DOES, RIGHT AFTER EACH ATTACK. I
USED TO HAVE A HUGE FILE BEFORE THE GREAT KINGS TOOK IT ALL AWAY
FROM ME, SHOWING THOUSANDS OF THESE KIND OF HOURLY MARKET MOVES,
AND HOW THEY PERFECTLY CORRESPOND TO MY DEATH SIEGE ACTIVITIES
OVER DECADES OF TIME, SINCE THIS STARTED IN 1986.
National Geographic Channel
Major Phil Ashby attempts to disarm child soldiers in Sierra Leone, but he becomes the personal target of an angry rebel warlord.
Locked Up Abroad
More Featured Shows »
MORIANITY-4
UNDER
THE PERSECUTION GUNS AGAIN WITH OTAMMIC BULLSHIT
11:28
AM-EST, TUESDAY, 26 FEBRUARY, 2013
Here
is the situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, and any and all
other Morians, Lessians, Inbetweenians; and other L-4, and other
entities not listed, who follow Morianity.
It
started last night with two things, and followed up with two things
so far today, and it is not even half way into the fucking day yet,
so I COULD USE SOME HELP, SHERIFF MASCARA, if you can possibly watch
out for me, thank you sir.
Last
night, I went to use the computer, and despite AT&T telling me
that no one can break into the wireless connection, someone had, FBI,
FCC, STATE POLICE, and other authorities, as the mouse was unmovable
and stuck in my PC-DOCK section. I had to do a forced shut down to
get whoever was in my system, out, and restart. Never in all my time
on this machine, have I taken it out of sleeper mode, and it was
already stuck on some task, unless it was one of those Microsucks
things that you cannot ever get rid of that keep getting in and
updating without the users permission. To me this should be criminal
too, but then who am I, and who listens? Then I went to bed and was
awakened out of a sound sleep around a quarter shy of seven give or
take, to a monster fucking fire alarm. Then between half past ten and
half past eleven, it was loud hall hollering and door banging out in
the hall, by my uncouth, lewd; and low life crummy neighbors. Also
last night, they slammed in very loud, nearly busting the door,
sometime before I had posted up the previous blog, or had done
something on the computer. It is one thing after another. It is
either very quiet on good days, or all hell is busting out around me
on the bad days, and Sheriff sir; this is not real good for me right
now, so please arrange some protection, as maybe Isis is angry with
me, as who can ever tell with this All Mighty being who moves
through reality unconsciously, as easily as you and I breath the
freaking air?
I
made another three units the other day on my systems roulette. Mike
had his brother take him out of the hospital yesterday, and it is too
complex to get into. He is home and unable to drive for at least a
week, until he fully recovers from the surgery.
As
for the nightmare with the mafia mechanic at the Hammonton Triple-A,
that was simple to eventually figure out what was behind all of this,
and as I said right along from the go-bat of these blogs, the RPLDD
is not going to go away any freaking time soon. Where did I go to
when I was out on those million errands that day in late 2009, for
Dawn and Ann, and my car did not start because I had left my car
lights on while doing one of the errands, and all ready had a weak
and bad battery? Yes, I was supposed to be towed to the garage right
up Central Avenue to the W.H. Pike, only it finally started, and I
drove up, so that I get could a battery charge, and told them I did
not need a tow, after-all, I was already there. Still, later that
night while watching the AT&T sponsored L&O show, there was
that mean teasing commercial about my being a what, well not a
chemtard, right Lizzy McGuire? Anyway, all things make perfect sense,
when properly analyzed, well, most things I suppose. Some things make
total sense, but remain outside of the endless ranges of human
possible reasoning. When things like this are all someday reasoned
out and understood, we won't need a lot of bloggers or Lizzy's
telling us to behave ourselves. Oh well, at least there are no
lizards or Gecko snakes involved, YUK. It seems Jim Burr is right all
along, and always has been, you know, when he said to me how nothing
just happens, it is all somehow ordered. This did not mean he did not
believe in free will, and this is one of those examples of the human
reasoning being temporarily stumped, as this seemingly is a large
contradiction. So are many things as well, only they are anything
but, and make wonderful sense; that is if we sit and ponder long
enough on them.
This
little tweet-blog will end for now, and I have a lot to tell, that
will not be appreciated, so hopefully, the authorities can keep the
dam MILITUFORCE off of my back and things will stay quiet both here
with me, and on the blogs of the Mountainpen.
BYE-BYE,
ice picks and others, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555.
MORIANITY-4
MOMMY
SILVA AIN'T YOUR BUDDY, MARK MOHR
MISS
SLEAZE BAG TIME AM-EST, 25 FEBRUARY, 2013
Many
of my viewers know that in 2009, shortly before I left New Jersey and
escaped Dawn-Marie King, a very nasty bunch of things got spoken to
me, from her, when we were alone in the house together, because Ann
King Silva was at a cousin's funeral on an overnight event, due to
distance involved. Among the things said, was a very true statement,
not in the real nasty category, but still in the mean category, if
such a list was being made, and that was, ''Mommy's not your buddy''.
Dawn-Marie was very jealous of anyone that was too close to Ann, and
if she had only this reason for coming to detest me so much late in
2008, and worse still in 2009; this would be more than sufficient.
Still, I knew when she said it, that it had some validation, and I
did tend to trust parts of my daughter's wild distant family, a bit
too much, for sake of my own safety and general overall well being.
Let's just leave shit right there, Dick Wolf. Still, I am so
fascinated with the Trump-Wolf click, that seemed to know every
minute detail about me and my life and my family, from the very first
swinging of the bats. This would be like saying the four digits of
1984. Same diff. Now my Uncle Heinz was really the hubby of my moms
first cuzz, Ruth Huntington. They married, and then I was later led
to believe, that she died in 1977, from a flu shot. According to
recent medical statements, nobody ever died of a flu shot. This
leaves murder in my opinion. My 'UNCLE' did remarry a younger woman
very shortly after the sudden death of this vivacious and otherwise
quite healthy woman, and the internet made her totally disappear out
of view, and only shows the second marriage of Heinz Gottwald, not
his first, to my Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald. This man had lots of
power, knew Donald Trump Senior well, and I think was instrumental in
denying him a loan at one point in time, for which his son was told
about it, and of the entire family; and since the very start of
things, this dude has had a bug up his ass for me, and even 'GAGA'
gave me PCN-550, when I asked why he did. It may appear that lots of
topics are being all merged together, and they are. They all connect,
but no one who is not connected into all of this, can fathom it.
Still, since the WOMO MILITUFORCE loves to play a certain game, and
they know what's getting said here, YO, then I will do likewise. You
know, goose, gander, bird, worm, Lawyer Dworkin, hotel keys, L&O
shows; and so on and so forth. While I was in my last days and weeks
at the home owned by FBI AGENT Steve Caruso, at 841 Thirteenth
Street, in Blueberryville, New Jersey, AKA Hammonton; the L&O
television show aired some really powerful episodes that all three
together, being sheer coincidence that knowing things about me had
nothing to do with these scripts; would be somewhere around the odds
of 32 trillion to one. This is mathematically sound, can be backed
up, and still, could indeed be all a coincidence and all of this is
merely, as the quantum physicists tell it, happens to be that one
time in that huge number. Me, I don't buy it for a mother frikkin new
York half-second, but that's me. You can all go do whatever you want
to. I do not believe it is possible and I am telling you why, Trump,
the loan, the NBC Network, all the shit this bastard has done to me
to mess with me and my life ever since 1984, and the list is endless;
but let us harp on one single point on this blog, that connects one
of these really powerful late OH-9 L&O TV shows. This would be
the episode that begins with a Global Warming Conference and the dude
saying to an audience right before collapsing and dying with blood
coming out of his nose, ''I have the worst headache''. Boom, he falls
down dead and it was murder, but this is just to tell you the episode
and time and year. It had the name of Silva in it as well, as in Ann
King Silva, but that is not the kicker. Here is the real kicker.
First, get the show, examine it real good in connection with my story
on these blogs. Then after all of that, listen to the part where the
lady says the precise thing that you will hear on the chemtrail video
that I posted to Youtube in 2012, with the opening quick little part,
before the drumming begins. Now just because the post was done in
2012, and the song lyrics as well, the music was done in 1996, and
was the original music to my song called, ''Sarah'' and still none of
this is the absolute powerful kicker. Now here is what is. The
illegally recorded telephone conversation was from early in 1984 to
the time traveling Lab Technician by the name of Sarah J. Cobson, if
I can be cute here for a second, and get a laugh or two, with no
assistance from any staircases. So if you ever get a chance to see
this episode of the L&O TV show that begins as I said here, from
late in 2009, listen close to a lady who says, 'uh, uh, I don't
know', the exact precise perfect way, that this technician said this
in 1984. This Lab Technician is no human being, it is my daughter;
and she has powers that go beyond the stars, her name is Isis. Find
this great goddess on the internet and see for yourself her
captivating unfathomable awesome sheer beauty, and total likeness to
the greatest pop diva of all time, Mariah Carey. Can I prove any of
this? No. Can they prove that I am telling you all a pants on fire
lie? NO. I know it is the truth, or I'd not dare put this shit in
print, and then hit the 'post' button, chemtard or no chemtard, Agent
Slick Highgas. Hay, look at this as a boxing ring, YO. You punch, I
punch, you punch, I punch, if you ever wanna' frikkin stop punching,
then I will as well, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have perfect memories of
seeing that Throat Specialist that day, but none of anyone in that
office, no patients, no Lab Tech, and zero memory of the trip there,
or the trip back home, from Academy and Grant, back to 506 Robin
Hill, in Voorhees Township, on a lark or not; huh screeeetch?
And
another thing folks, speaking of mergers and acquisitions, and loans
denied by my 'uncle' who before retiring, was in charge of approving
or denying loans, over ten million dollars, for businesses; since his
position at Chemical National Bank of Manhattan, was Senior VP; the
Sara J. Cobson make out tape, that was responsible for the horrendous
tsunami in the Pacific Ocean earlier this century via my
electronic-metaphysics; took place at Office Max in Voorhees Township
as well, and also not on a screechy lark. Still, for someone who did
not do all these things to me as told on my blogs, from the
Haddonwood days right up through right now, why did my son in law go
out of his way to advertise the 'monster-ass phones' last year, after
knowing about how I remember him and his statement of my monster ass
tapes? It is not complicated rocket science L-4. A guilty conscience
is always going to reveal itself, head on, back door, or side winded;
but it always shows up, one way or the other; and with or without any
freaking Swiffer Mops.
Then
there is that day at the laser show, or night really, and it was no
show, as it took place at the Letts basement, and again, Lark girl,
in Voorhees. WOW, can this beat all get out, Mister dad of Superman?
Well in any dam event, there are peeps who have been moving back and
forth through time in this world since forever, and this is the best
kept secret in 'history'. When it gets proven and exposed every so
often, on a global scale, 'THEY' merely make a few alterations in
past times, that prevents what would have happened from ever
happening, gee really, is this another one of those, like
DUH's??????????????????????????????? WHAAAAAAAAA! But this still
falls very short of the mark when the full blown topic of PHASE-2, 3,
and 4, is discussed at any real length intelligently. This quick
phrase is why there is such a thing as ART or even imagination and
talent, here in waking world hyperspace realms of physical beingness.
Do not confuse PHASE with TYPE, as in Exploratronics, or the great
collective club of the universe called, and this exists now, and
always has and always will, the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND, or for short, just the 'ES'.
This
has not been a good weekend for
me, so you can expect a flying DOW JONES STOCK MARKET this week, YO!
MORIANITY-4
NEIGHBORS,
NIGHTMARES, NUTS, AND NINNYS
4:28
PM-EST, SUNDAY AFTERNOON, 24 FEBRUARY, 2013
Both
today and yesterday in the late afternoon, my sub box butt wipe nabes
across the hall, turn up their garbage music for short durations, and
then cut it back down. Total ninny behavior, unless one is between
perhaps four and fourteen.
Beginning
on Official Presidents Day Holiday back last Saturday, the
INTERACTION
FORCE, really has been quite alive and well, and as the
great man of religious wisdom would add here from his middle
seventies great book about Apollo-Lucifer; living on Planet Earth,
and most definitely to add onto his quote here, ''and in my frikkin
neighborhood to make already sore festering wounds, filled and loaded
with pure sea salt''. Slam-Bam-Boom, at 4:34, these dirt bags are at
it good today, and it is worse than yesterday. They are total
inconsiderate assholes, to say the least.
It
is an overcast hot afternoon, and yesterday here in town, it reached
about 86 degrees, and it's even higher still, down in Miami about 100
miles to the south. Today was a couple degrees cooler and more
overcast, WEEEEEEEEEEE. Nuts seem to be not only everywhere, and I am
speaking all
five dimensions, not just in
this one little parallel universe here,
but all over the 'great
place'. I
crashed and burned up as I said I would on my previous blog, and
before I came back here again, and around the time of the afternoon
neighbor noise, I found myself back in Hammonton, New Jersey, and
yes; in a very monstrous situation, and this is what it was,
Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson. I drove over to the Triple-A Garage
where Central Avenue dead ends at the White Horse Pike, and my
parents were both with me in the car, over in this parallel reality;
and I asked for five dollars of regular gasoline, and was given
eighteen dollars and sixty cents worth. I had no cards with me, just
a five dollar bill. The evil man at this place was an enforcer for
the New Jersey Mob over in this parallel world, and he told me I
would pay him cash money, right now for the gasoline, or else. My
father managed to hear this go down while exiting the rest room area,
and he fled the scene in terror. My mother was holding a small piece
of very colorful remnant carpet, trying to appease this huge evil
man. He then walked over after taking the keys out of the car, and
putting them into his overall pocket nice and deep; and grabbed a man
who also owed him a few dollars, and showed me what happens to those
who won't pay him his money. It was some distance away and I had
trouble focusing at first on the incident, and then suddenly, unlike
over in this universe, my eyesight suddenly became great and crystal
clear and without any glasses. He then took an ice pick and after
tying this man in a sitting position, placed the ice pick on top of
each of his toes and then took a hammer and slammed the ice pick with
it, causing the toes, one by one to fly right off the feet of this
poor pathetic and terrified looking man. Blood was gushing out
everywhere. Then the man laughed, looked at me, and went and placed
the same ice pick on the mans middle top foot area, creating horrible
wounds all over the top of his feet, eventually making the man pass
out and limp right over into unconsciousness. Then he came over to my
mom and me, and demanded his eighteen-sixty right now, or else. He
had taken out some kind of a small cubical device that began sounding
like a nasty subwoofer fully cranked, small as it was. He began
placing it on parts of my body, and the pain was excruciating each
time. Then
he said, give me my fucking money you little 'chemtard'.
Now here is where you need to know something. A few days ago, I
learned that shortly after I had posted up onto the internet, my blog
from last Saturday, somebody made a comment on my page on
the Youtube,
called the paulaking2011
channel. I thought
it was funny and cute, and everyone, as Michelle Daniels back in
1980, at the recording studio, told me; is entitled to their opinion,
even me. She worded it a little differently, and we need not go into
what caused her to say this right now, other than it had to do with
repressed memories that I had in my carry-baggage, for eight long
years at the time, and something I had spoken to her in response to
something that she had just said to me. Still, this will explain to
some small degree, in a human-world explanation anyway; the statement
made by that monster mechanic at the Triple-A place in parallel
reality, to me about paying him his gasoline money or else. Without
going to that Youtube Channel and then clicking onto the video
called, 'Chemtrails
of 1987',
you just will not get the full power of this blog, with or without
any bridges, rail-road tracks, or crossovers, minivans, old
techno-pop songs from the early eighties, or paternal side distant
cousins and their friends and their television shows that got zonked
off the network right after my attempt to re-do this old song, and
post it up to the Youtube, which finally occurred, back on the good
old when else, KARGE DAY, AND EIGHTEENTH DAY, back in last December,
in twenty-twelve. Anyway, I was in-between these agony strikes, as
the great Mister Palvo ''Check-off'' of the original Star Trek, and
the following motion pictures, knows about so well, in his own
parallel universe experiences of the mirror-mirrors, bearded Bob
Spock; when suddenly, there was my mother, laying on this rug, and it
was flying up in the air. She too was escaping as did my dad. They
had abandoned me with this horrendous inconceivable deplorable
monster creep mechanic. Then the box got louder until I suddenly was
laying in a bed just hearing the sound of it, and after a few
seconds, I came to realize, it was my nabes playing their short quick
burst of subwoofer attack, as they did this weekend on several
occasions. Then a door slams shut a while later, and things grow
quiet, or at least quieter. Some may want to know whether it is in
the LAWTRONICS of the original DREAM-OUT that controls this
transdimensional thing that most of us have indeed experienced, where
we are 'dreaming' and suddenly a sound from the waking world becomes
part of the dream and then eventually, we awaken here and the sound
is what it is here, even though it was something different in a
parallel space. No peeps, it is not a Lawtronic thing, other than
Lawtronics is behind any and all things laying on this side of the
Void Truth, where we just simply exist at, unlike at the void itself;
where there is nothing, so there is no Lawtronics either, as
Lawtronics is something.
I
will be helping Mikey when he is released shortly from the Lawnwood
Regional Hospital. He had a lifelong condition with his hernia, and
things last week totally went south on him. Oh well, at least things
could be worse, Michelle, first, I could still be back working with
you and having IRC arguments, and instead I find myself here in
paradise, WOW.
Well, I plan to never again use star gates from the attic, crawl
through any fence holes to follow any toddlers into secret lit up
areas filled with flashing strobe boxes on one side and used diapers
on the other side, and most certainly, I will never tell Chuckie that
I'm up a tree ever again, as I was being a bit facetious with him
back in 1971, over in Haddonfield, New Jersey, at the Pennypacker
Park, on that spring afternoon; only now, in all candor, I do not
know what I could tell this dude, if he ever lived to get out of
prison and made a life for himself. Chucks Gym, great idea, I love
it, I loved it then too Mister McDonald, so go for it buddy. You
totally rock old pal. As for me, let me do my 18 and out. That is all
I want, I'll do my time, 18 and a third, AND OUT. Let me out of here,
Warden Coldgirl, thank you, and yes, nose plugs are always available.
Me, I am only in need of the earplugs, and yes, I do use them here in
a PH BUILDING, WHAAAAAA!
I
have not played roulette this weekend due to a lot of nasty shit in
general, but before this time, I ended up making back my entire
systems crash unit loss, plus an additional two units as well. If
things ever lessen for me again, I'll play more games. Why fight a
bad 'magnetic', to quote the great Donna Diva Summer? Still, as Gawky
knows only too well, PCN-615 is a self compatible PCN, and is the
number for both, ''Mark Mohr in 1980'', and ''Created Donald Trump on
a tape recorder''. The PCNT shows zero 1-2-3 Lovers, huh US ©
Office. His problem with me, well, GAGA
CAT says that it is PCN-550, WO, WO, WO,
WO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY-4
MAKING
THE MOST OF WHAT WE HAVE, RIGHT OJS?
3:21
AM-EST, SUNDAY 24 FEBRUARY, 2013
MARK
WAYNE MOHR OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
©
2006-2013 ALL MY BLOGS AND URL'S
Ever
since my last days of seeing Sarah on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic
City, New Jersey after the summer of 1969 was over, I began to slowly
grow near sighted, and eventually after a year, it grew worse and
worse, leaving me with a rotten pair of peepers. One of the five
sensory systems, seeing physically, is not my strong point; and this
needs to be noted before the story continues here.
For
reasons that do not always make sense in the every day world, we all
have those gut feelings and intuitions, and only women seem to be
really allowed to advertise this very important part of the human
talent range, but that's tough beans as my Uncle Stuart used to say
back around these times and days being spoken of here, because I am a
male, and I have a lot of those gut feelings, premonitions, and
intuitions, and I go with them, and am right a lot more than I am
wrong. Nothing of course is perfect, just as Bruce Pennock used to
say so well.
I
always believed as years went by, that this very elusive mysterious
teenager, Sarah, for not being more friendly with her back on her
street; took away my vision, magically. You know, if I won't look at
her, then I won't look at any other girl, at least clearly and not
without a thick pair of eye glasses on my head. Of course, there were
contact lenses, but in those days, all of that just was never an item
floating around in my mind. I only began to see this girl as magical
and powerful, after she came into my dreams in middle December,
following the last time I ever saw her physically back the previous
summer in 1969, and she took away the motorcycle chain that I had in
my locked strong box in my apartment bedroom closet, in this dream,
and told me quite specifically, her full name, and spelling it for
me, SARAH KRASSLE; and telling me that when I wake up, to go ahead
and look for it and it will be gone. Sure enough I woke up, did as
she said, and it was really gone. When I got on the school bus to go
to school an hour or so later, that was the day that a gigantic three
angle criss crossed jet vapor trail was formed in the skies above the
entire Camden County, and began slowly dissipating into the most
incredible and beautiful item that I had ever witnessed in my just
fifteen years of life as the me that I am now, physically. This was
all exactly 18 years before I was a grown man working as a security
guard, at the American Honda Plant, on Gaither Road, in Mount Laurel,
New Jersey, in December of 1987; with or without any ratios, or
rations, or New Jersey SORA test questions, or chord jiggling
anti-hacking from 1983 and 1984. Still, all this lays a needed
foundation. The great 1970 football player, Orange Juice Simpson or
'OJ' as we all remember from my Haddonwood days, was on a television
show at this same time, with Chad Everett, who played Doctor Joe
Gannon; and was called, 'Medical Center', a very great medical show,
and also said in the episode where he pushed his wife down on the bed
and ripped a payphone off of a wall, in paraphrase, something along
the lines of, we have to use the hands we have. He was speaking to a
boy who had just had his hand amputated. Not many if any, persons
played on the 1990 through present time ''Law & Order''
television show, that also played in both Medical Center and Star
Trek's original show financed by Lucille Ball and her company, that
almost became another western show, instead of what it was. This was
no accident. Also, I know of only one actor who played in all three
of these shows that I am a great fan of, and this would be a man who
I do not know his name, but on Star Trek, went by Agent Gary-7. I
told on several previous blogs how the two co-agents he was working
with before they died accidentally in auto crashes, were given three
digit numbers, one matching Estelle Bassler's telephone exchange in
Atlantic City when she resided at 30 South Plaza Place, as well as
the address on Tennessee Avenue, of her hotel property, the
Piccadilly Hotel. She owned the Bolivar and the Piccadilly, and ended
up selling the Bolivar to Sara J. Karge in the late sixties and
buying it back from her in the middle seventies, before she left the
area, and moved to Ormond Beach, Florida. The odds of these code
number agents matching up to a phone designation or the three digit
prefix number in-between the area code and the final four digits, as
well as the property address on Tennessee Avenue, are very high,
around a million to one against it just happening by accident. In the
Star Trek show where this agent had come on a mission, to the Earth,
and was intercepted by the Starship Enterprise, and was episode
titled, ''Mission Earth'' if I'm not mistaken; he had a place in
Manhattan, and a secret system that could send him from there, to
distant places; such as the NASA Launch Pad; and it was in
appearance, extremely similar to the coaches locker area, in Cooley
Hall, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, that has been discussed. Now my
rotten eyesight needs to come into play right about now. Even with
corrective lenses, my sight is piss poor. I am able to drive and am
OK to perform normal tasks, but I am merely saying that I would not
be the go to guy if you needed a good accurate description of a
witnessed event at any kind of distance from where I would be
standing, nor would I be the one to be expected to remember your face
after a meeting. This is not my strong point. What I lack in visual
acuity, I make up for in my sensory part of my beingness. I feel a
lot of things, not just what is hot or cold, or painful, or soft or
hard, or whatever; but my feel-sense allows me to feel things, to
know not to trust you, to know what is going on around me when there
is no explainable way for me to do so, and along these lines. You can
scoff if you wish, as I do not have anything to prove, and am saying
this merely to lay down a huge foundation. I always knew that this
GARY-7 dude had some very special connection to me and to my life, in
ways that go far beyond just this actor-person, but more along the
lines of the characters he played and portrayed in his parts as an
actor, all fit into numerous possibilities of items in my own
personal life, beginning with Distance
Elimination and Sunram, and his Manhattan Suite with his own
chamber. Then came 1996 and my search for Sarah, years later, and I
came to learn the two three digit numbers, perfectly matched up with
Estelle Bassler's telephone number, and property address number. Many
folks can easily dismiss messages in cosmos like this, but do not
count me among them please. I have even figured out why the strange
effect happened to me at the Somerdale Death House that I blogged
about as well, where I would stare over at the venetian blinds in my
bedroom, and the name that the Camden County Prosecutor had
intentionally given me to throw me off my search to find this girl,
Sarah Kessel, and why he did this will most likely never become known
to me; but I would hear the name in my mind every single time I would
stare over at those blinds if I was about to lay down on my bed which
would face me in the direction to see these blinds. Sarah Kessel,
Sarah Kessel, would go through my head, and then it would grow even
stronger, after the 30th Anniversary of the Star Trek Show
came on, and I saw and taped it on my VCR from my bedroom. Every time
that I would view the most popular voted three shows ever, one being
titled, ''The Trouble with Tribbles'', again, it would make me stare
at the blinds, and I would hear the name over and over again. I
cannot speak for 'venetian' other than the name representing a
neighboring planet we have next to us here on the Earth, Venus, but
''blinds'' as in blind, or as in losing my eyesight very quickly
without rhyme or reason, just like the choking condition of 1983, for
no explainable, rational reason; but more than ever, I began to
'see' Sarah as some kind of dangerous frightening powerful 'witch' or
something that had me totally locked and under her magical spell.
After-all, it was after I no longer saw Sarah again, that my eyesight
began to go down hill, seemingly at the speed of, well, sight, light,
you tell me? Still, it took a while, but as time went on into this
twenty-first century, I started seeing why that particular episode
with the 'tribbles', on Star Trek, was fitting into things. Also, I
began to realize much later that this 'GARY-7 actor', was in all
three of my very life long favorite television shows, the original
Star Trek, Medical Center; and Law & Order. Then in 1980 came the
powerful black cat into my dreams, with the lottery, and how this cat
could always predict the Pennsylvania three digit outcome every time,
straight or boxed. This is also a connection to the co-agents that
Gary-7 worked with, both with three digit numbers of varying
combinations of them, and the show was years before the New Jersey
Lottery began in the middle seventies, and one of the first states to
have a state lottery, if I'm not mistaken. Still, all this and even
more that I could go on with here, folks; does not start to unravel
powerful mysteries; but I will help this all along. I began believing
that the Astral Plane Gods were the ones plotting all these
nightmares and games with me, as the eighties and the nineties came
and went, and this present century came into being. But even though I
studied what human-kind had in its records about them, and even
looked at statue photos and likenesses of many of them, it took me
until last night and watching the H-2 Channel, to put a huge giant
dot connect leap into play. The name of the black cat that was always
in Gary-7's lap in the Star Trek Show, if you study the likeness of
this gorgeous goddess, well, as I said, my piss poor eyesight has
slowed down a lot of things in my life, and now, finally, I can see a
likeness to this goddess that is beyond unmistakable. This agent
called this cat after the name of this Pleadian Goddess, and after I
began my blogs and put up the website called, Morianity-Foundation,
in the middle of the twenty-ohs, and spoke of the Pleadian mythology,
this is when a lot of things began to come at me at velocitronic
speed. There are 100 things that I could say beyond this, but would
not dare to blog it all; movies, things done, things said, stuff that
happened to me after this blog project all began in early 2006; and
on and on. Still, this Astral Plane Goddess Sarah-Stacey Jehovah
Krassle, has lived in many parts of fifth dimensional hyperspace,
enjoying interacting with her creation in various unlimited ways, and
still is known to many as Scylla, Jehovah, and many other names used
by various cultures the world over, in all the worlds of limitless
hyperspace of multiplexed parallel universe realities. There is
always a chance, that I can be wrong, and will not be as totally
arrogant as is my distant cousin. There is a chance that I only think
I really am on this Astral Plane, but in truth, am on some super
world of the Pleadian star system, where indeed the great I Goddess
would be, seeing a city that I could not fathom, and her awesome
power and beauty, and ability to pick up a giant ocean liner vessel
and fly it around, and watch the buildings along this wild curvy
shoreline, move by, with endless brilliant colored lights all over
them, that for all I know could be solid jewels, lit up by the
brilliance of this goddess's hair that would blind a human in a
fraction of a second. What I have seen and witnessed is real, but I
just may indeed have misinterpreted some of the facts. Finally seeing
the Goddess I and her likeness to MC, in human form, is blowing my
mind beyond words today. She tells me I will never get away and will
never escape her, that I am always her THAT-BOY, as she calls me.
Well, I have no problem with that at all, only that I wish I could
come to understand her game a little bit more, and that she would try
and remember consciously just who she really is. This is enough to
drive anyone beyond the Indian Coocoothrow Sikeward, even without the
most beautiful chemtrail in the world that she gave to me as a
lifelong memory, back in December of 1969. But take these things all
together, and it becomes Lunacy City. My sanity is losing its race,
and my shoes are bright bloody red. All mace cans are empty now, and
Karge burned down the hotel a long time ago, but she did a lot more
than that. I know all your great secrets, Scylla my endless love. I
just want you to know, and I know you read my blogs, that I will
always be here for you, no matter what you may ever need, no matter
what is involved. Yes, I still do need your codes to show, it has
been so long since they have. You look so beautiful with that giant
chain around your neck. I just hope this means we are chained
together, All Mighty I. Without you, I AM NOTHING, and there is
nothing, and all these blogs are but NOTHING.
I
am going to crash and burn now, so congratulations Tony Stewart. You
peeps have got to be more careful, that was really awful, YO.
NIGHTY-NIGHT,
YOUR MOON IS LOVELY, DIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY-4
FINISHING
UP LUCKY SIXTIES USSR FOLKS, AND OTHERS NOT SO LUCKY
FEBRUARY
DEVIL NUMBER 23, TWENTY THIRTEEN
2:27
ANTE' MERIDIAN, EASTERN STANDARD TIME
No
flowery talk tonight peeps, just quick straight up stuff. I won't
even throw in a lot of freaking profanity, just gonna' tell it short
and sweet folks, so listen or go elsewhere; do whatever turns you on.
I'll
be talking about a way to un-hack a freeze
that most seasoned hackers do not know about, I'll be talking about
why the owners of this world will not allow the general larger
viewing public, access to my existence, my art, my anything and why
they hate me so much and do their best to influence others to follow
suit in their shadow as well. I'll be also discussing more details in
a follow-up of recent prior blogs regarding exactly why we have our
fifth dimensional personality and lives, and in easy words, why we
live good or bad or neutral lives as well as why we dream good or bad
or neutral 'dreams', and last but in no way least, the truth of
chemtrails and the chemtrail or trinitrail of 1969, and the goddess
who ordered it made while inside her human mother. Sounds like a
belly full huh people, well, Jonahs Sat Nurine might agree with you,
but we certainly are not going to be revisiting the powerful awesome
year of twenty-ten, not on this blog or this day any-ha! Yes for the
young crowd who do not know or could care less, but may be reading
these words, and young is such a relative term, hell my oldest
daughter will be turning forty three in about a month, but yes, there
was an old nineteen-sixties bubble gum tune played on the radio a
hell of a lot, called, Back in the USSR, if I am correct in the
title, as this surely was the theme that ran through the song, so if
the title is really Bugs and Flies, well, neighbor Jim Stafford of
Cherry Hill, New Jersey, sorry for being wrong. In any case let us
move this along nice and quick and easy, shall we?
We
are going to open this up with lucky people, without boring anyone on
this blog about the interaction-forces, and a lot of freaking
mathematics, the casino gaming industry, and so on and so forth,
et-el. Before I say one more word on this blog, let me try and make a
few of the nicer folks that view my junk, hopefully a tiny tad wee
bit more understanding about my paranoid nature and personality in
general, as well as my glass-half-empty attitudes and outlook on
life, at least according to the great twin of the other bay, from
late in oh-eight, or was it early in oh-nine, but it is all on my
blogs at blogger dot com to be archived should anyone give a dam, and
if you don't, please do not think I will be crying tear one about it,
and I would say it is your funeral when you do not listen to
something big that I tell, but really, that is bull-crap as we are
all already as dead as the lovely Roseann Delaney of Park Avenue, or
is it West End Avenue on the west side of Crystal Lake Avenue? I
cannot quite recollect, as if this matters a smidgen and a third
any-ha, WHAAAAAAAAA. But without getting off point and onto a
geometric tangent here lads and lassies, I learned that my pal Mikey
took quite ill the other day. He helped me twice when my enemies
vandalized my automobile, and they do not like people who help me.
This is why I forgive certain peeps in my life for their actions, and
I know the score without my hands in my pockets, Glenn from Mars
Graphics, YO! LSS, he is quite ill and is in the local city hospital.
Do I believe in coincidence? No I do not, and here is why. Jim Burr
is the one who said and put this quite elegantly, adequately, and
even perhaps eloquently, many decades back in frikkin time peeps, you
see; I do not have the 'LUXURY' of believing in coincidences. Most of
you out here in the every day world, do have that luxury. You can,
you may, so maybe you do and maybe you don't, but you do not need to
for your best interests and personal survival. I freaking do not have
this luxurious option. If I lose my paranoia, my WOMO
MILITUFORCE ENEMIES will have my head on a pike faster than
Michael Jackson could brake dance around and scream out ABC-123 back
in '83, thrilled or not! People instinctively want nothing to do with
me, as they recognize the powerful mysterious reality around me, that
over time and the past 5-10 years now, I have called the
''HUNTINGTON CURSE''.
Now
let me tell you that the chemtrail subject
is very powerful. The reason I know it has nothing to do with all the
million websites and Youtube videos, not one bit. It does not matter
how long it has been going on, as there are old movies that show
plenty of them that date back into the early sixties and before the
lucky USSR song ever got its first airplay on the radio. Still, if I
told you that as with anything, from lollypops to Mary Moore's famous
green dress on her 1970 show, with Ed Asner; this topic has
multiplexed complications that cannot be quickly glossed over right
now, so I will come right out and just tell the main parts, and there
are peeps who are so scared that this topic will lead to the start of
a full blown revolution in the United States soon, that if necessary,
they will make you vanish into the night along with the illustrious
and eminent Marie Fahey, the victim of Mister Capano of Delaware,
back late in the nineties, when so many wild things were truly
gearing up and shifting somewhere between overdrive and overkill.
First, a large group of observers of this phenomenon began to grow
late in the nineties, and as the Quantum Physicists will tell all of
us, this is the force that drives reality, and not the other way
around, and yes people; another of my many perfect frikkin examples
of reality always appearing in its inverse state, to us waking poor
mortals. Still, nobody is spraying out anything other than jet fuel
so the jets can move along in the sky. I know it looks like a huge
change has occurred and it has, and I will tell you all what it is,
and you won't like it. Mortals have a basic seven decade lifespan and
if averaged out, men and women, in all the nearly 200 countries of
this world, it always seems to basically average out between 50 and
90 years, or 70. This planet, good old mother Earth, has her own
larger time schedules. One of numerous ones is the IAC, or the Ice
Age Cycle. It is thousands of years long, not 70 or 140 or even 210,
but thousands of years; so mortals have a problem trying to see any
real accurate truths that pertain to the interaction between
themselves, and this lengthy IAC. Still, despite it not being exactly
so many years from hottest hot to coldest cold, it does average out
to a period that no tree ring science can hope to properly date
correctly, and that would be in very long run play, 22 thousand years
each way. Also, within the larger cycle, are several smaller cycles
within cycles that tend to confuse those attempting to try figuring
it out. In the age we live in presently, things crossed over on all
three major cycles, right as the jet engine was first designed. The
atmosphere is what is changing, not the jets, but those in
power who want to cause fear or panic or even persecute and harass
those on lists that they have in the covert black-ops agencies, will
use a redirected aerial traffic pattern if it fits into their plans,
making things appear to be what they are not. Folks, in case you
don't know it, jet fuel is dumped out and frozen instantly, and even
during normal operations, this propane mix of chemistry is not
healthy for people, and the aeronautics folks have known this a long
while, and have no plans to do away with high speed jet traffic any
time soon. So as with all things, jerk offs can make, and do make,
many things appear to be what they are not. They love to play games,
to fuck with people, to act mysterious, the entire world owners are a
bunch of baby boomer spoiled brats that are seriously overdo for the
spanking of their lives, only who can spank these cock suckers? This
is the entire reality of the CHEMTRAIL
PHENOMENON, nothing more, nothing less. Still, do not
underplay that I said that this fuel is not healthy, does cause flu
like symptoms, does cause throat irritation, does cause voice damage,
and the list goes on. Also, it is my belief system that Joseph was
not the only one on Earth a long while back, visited by the star
family, trying to make alterations in various hyperspace time-lines,
via STM and or using the knowledge of Type-3-Exploratron travel. I
made a fatal mistake of trying to think that I could merge several of
my problems into one gigantic collusion operation. Normal people with
low budget finances to deal with, do not fight the powerful people of
this world, and come out on the side of the fucking angels. They are
the angels, the evil wicked ones but THEY ARE THE POWER, they own,
they rule, they control. They will not be stopped by Michael Moore or
his Occupy Group that seems to have closed down and bounced their
little balls all the way home for dinner and tuck in time with mommy
and a story book. We are no match for these gods that rule, and we
never will be, not with all our posts and videos, and all of it.
Still, this is a huge condensed version of what I could totally say
and tell peeps, so live with it for right now. These are the people
who can make my nabes across the hall mess with me, and swing up the
Dow Jones way over 100 points, as they did this afternoon with me, or
really, yesterday disasternoon. My blogs for more than seven years
now, have attempted to tell dribble and drab pieces of a humongous
sized story of truth, and called by me, MORIANITY,
but that is all it ever can be, as the entire thing would take a
fucking library of space to tell it.
I
tried hard to tell Paul Pedersen back in 1998 and 1999, that there
really are people who control all the major things in life, be it in
the world of music, and or any other kind of entertainment,
athletics, politics, business and finance, social contacts, all of
it; and they do not like me; and I was told this by a man, when I
bugged up my own automobile, and intentionally got him talking after
he had told me previously, and I quote, his name is Scott Ransom, he
was in the real estate business back in the late eighties, he worked
for Jackson & Jackson, and a man named Kelly Jackson who owned
this realty company back in 1983 when I first met him, and his exact
words to me that he said were told to him by Kelly Jackson when he
was threatened not to try and sell my Kramer Hill, New Jersey home,
''Very powerful people are disgruntled with you''. Exactly why this
is true I do not know, but I do know that in the eighties, especially
the early eighties, I cannot fathom what I could've possibly done to
anyone, and especially in positions of great power, that caused this;
but I know it was no fucking hoax. This was all real, very real, and
it all happened; and I know that this is why I not only can not ever
get anywhere in life, but every mother fucking thing that I have ever
tried to do, has not only totally miserably failed, but I have had
people tell me, and this is an exact basic quote, ''Mark the way
things happen to you, it is as though you want to fail at everything
and be totally miserable, at least this is how it looks to us''.
Now
I told you that there is a way to un-hack a frozen computer that does
not involve shutting the electrical power off, and it will force an
instantaneous shut down. You simply go to your headphone jack part of
the tower, plug in anything at all, and jiggle it around and in and
out completely, until for whatever reason, and I have not got the
foggiest notion why it does it, but it suddenly shuts completely
down. There is a lot of magic to jiggling cords and really, causing
strange electromagnetic fields to build up in the alternating house
current that power companies deliver to us. I knew all of this in the
early eighties, and maybe, JUST
MOTHER FUCKING MAYBE, this is one of the reasons, that
powerful people are so god dam disgruntled with me, Mister fucking
Jackson, and Mister fucking Ransom, of the nineteen-eighties, YO!
Now
I have talked about the fifth dimensional hyperspace, and why the
average human being from babies to anyone of any age, require about
nine and a half hours out of each 24 hour cycle, for sleeping and
dreaming, and how this amount is two fifths of 24 hours, and how we,
while asleep in dreams; are awake in the other two fifths of the
five-DHS, that we are not living in while awake here. But what I
never have specifically discussed on any blog, ever, is why exactly,
we have the type of life and the type of dreams that we do in fact
have. Basically, what we think is happening to us, awake and asleep,
is a powerful, and gee what else is new, ILLUSION. It seems that
happy successful people have all the great dreams, and the miserable
folks like me have the nightmares, for the great majority of the
time. This is pure illusion. This is the wavy heat arising from the
distant asphalt on the summer road ahead of us while driving. It is a
lot of bull-shit. Many folks do not remember their dreaming
interactions hardly at all, some never do. None of us remember the
ones very often, that go against our normal flowing routine of waking
life, so the memory that consciousness brings us for the great
majority of the time, will be dreams that mirror image our waking
life, so the miserable people think that the spirit world is misery,
and the fortunate think it is heavenly. This is all crap. Dreams are
not the spirit world, but just other parts of hyperspace. To our
doppelgangers over in those alternate realities, we here are their
dreams. Only the Astral Plane itself is the spirit world, and to
access it in most cases, you need to use a method of
Astral-Projection, or do what Morianity has preached all along, USE
THE GREAT 6-10 FASCITAR, a system that without the great
Patricia Hollister in 1974, would not ever be on the freaking
internet today. So thanks to her and her friend Santa, it is
available to be archived and read about, and yes, I will get into it
again for those that wish for me to do so, just not right now, YO.
You of course can be your truer Astral self by projection methods,
but you can also explore hyperspace or alternate dimensional reality,
by employing methods totally different than this, making you a
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. Doing these things,
unlike religions that teach contrary doctrines, are not going to send
you into eternal punishment and burning fiery hell, or cause your
life here to become awful or catastrophic. Human controllers have
used the fear of death and hell and eternal punishment, to control
global civilizations for countless time now, and they are the ones
whose karma for lack of a better word, will be severely damaged, and
their balance out for doing this, in other parts of their total fifth
dimensional beingness, will indeed be hellish and dark. Payback is
built into cosmic law. Touch a hot stove, and be burned. Go into a
tough biker bar and yell 'all bikers are scum bags' and instant
trouble comes your way. Jump from a great height without a parachute,
and you will be injured or killed, and the list goes on virtually
forever. No one will ever get away with anything. Believing that they
will, is probably the ultimate and absolute stupidest possible
thought that you could ever entertain inside of your mind. The cosmos
screams out at deafening levels, that this is not the case. Just
because many things do appear to be couched in mystery and cloaked
with invisibility; do not be so easily fooled and swayed, friends and
fiends. Nighty-nite!
MORIANITY-4
BACK
IN THE LUCKY USSR, AND THE SIXTIES
5:28
PM-EST, FEBRUARY 22, 2013, FRIDAY EVENING
Well,
old ex buddy, Paul; I will say one thing for you, and that is,
&^#@#@!%&*(%(*!@^&*(_)%#$@%!@. Well, here is another.
I
really love peeps who are so appreciative of their fellow humans who
went out of their way to do a lot for them, and then they just spit
at you, and tell you to go to the devil. But he did give me some
advice once that I only wish that I was able to follow. He said to
stop living so deep inside the pond, try to come up to the surface a
bit and join the world of the average chilled out level of pure
simplicity. I want to do this and want badly not to always be taking
all the things around me, and putting them into very deep caverns,
where they are then explored by me in extreme detail, and epitomized
scrutiny; that would make any science lab, proud to be a witness of.
Yes, I want this. I want to be able to do this. I've tried hard to do
this. Those who are blind try hard to see, but they don't. Those who
are totally crippled up with no hope of any modern medical procedure
helping them, really do want to walk and run. They really do folks.
But the trouble is that we all come into this mother fucking world,
as we are, and seemingly for the most part, even destined to be
certain ways, have certain types of interactions, and all though
there is a lot of free will, and choice menus in the life-game; it
is still on a menu page, just as food is when you go out to eat in a
diner or a restaurant. You may select, but the selections are within
a limited menu, handed to us when we sit down at our table or
counter. I know this is true, and I have lived enough of life, to
know what I know. I do not know a lot of shit folks, but I do know
what I do know, and you can sit there and laugh or tell me I'm full
of it, but as I said, I KNOW. Never would I have any desire to take
away your freedom to disagree, but still, I KNOW. No PP, you really
and honestly, sir, are 100% clueless, to
just how lucky you are, and instead of spending the rest of your life
hating me, you should at least instead, spend that same energy on
your freaking knees, praying to your god ATHEISTA, that you are you,
and not me, well; for all I know, you do this already, so I'll just
shut the fucking shit up, and move stuff right along.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Folks,
here is the 'shituation' for both you reading this in the
twenty-first century, as well as back in the fifties, for you, old
pal Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson. Between about 3 and 5 this
afternoon, my across the hall dirt bag noisy nabes, attacked me with
a major in and out door booming session. It has been worse, but
still, I know when I AM being pummeled and assaulted, by bottom
feeding swine! I know why
it started at three also, even without seeing any
market reports. I AM quite sure that the last hour of the trading
day, experienced a major bullish rally for these cheating bums on
Wall Street, and my old arch enemy shit head cubed, DJBT himself, is
always behind it, and has been since my car blew up on the way to his
PLAZA OPENING, back in the spring time somewhere,
in 1984. But now it is time for the real huge TRS lads and
lassies, so if you are not in the mood to get hit with a verbal high
speed big rig truck, get off of this blog-beach, and take the Jersey
Governor with you. Move it over to the NEXT-BLOG,
and read the story of Anthony Teedlestopper and his miniature
race-car collection, or try Cousin Thugs and his poison breakfast
recipes; but if you choose to stay here, well; you've been warned
this will get a little bit serious and ugly; so if the 'other
McGuire' does not approve, she can switch over as well, lovely as she
may be. Mister Wow, I cannot keep the secrets totally, not as much as
your offspring may hope and wish that I would, and if you want to sue
me, then remember, you cannot take away a mans bed, and all my stuff
is just Goodwill junk, and I doubt any judge would value all that I
have of sufficient value to even be legally taken should you win a
law suit. Also, to sue, slander and libel must be proven, and I know
that I speak the truth here, and so does the WOMO, and all of their
evil wicked representatives on temporary vacation right now, from
HELL, right Steve Murray, old buddy and so mighty?
I
might even let you stay, for an hour or a day, with me. And my
Morians, well, they can stay a tad bit longer if they wish to tarry
along with the quintessential man of woes and sorrows; after-all,
shit runs in the family, and we all know this is true; horrible
horrible fucking shit runs in families, so shut the fuck up MARK
WAYNE ASSHOLE MOHR B4 it really is 2L. Ani-ha folks, here is the
barely bloggable shituation, inspector, and by the way, the best to
you and hats off to Ron Wirtz Senior's old bud from the Yard over
across the Pond, huh Chophead Godead Queenie of late gee could it be
another, yes-sir, 1984, WOW RH!!!!!!!!!!! This sure doesn't stand for
RED-HOT by the way, so let us no longer co-write any new or old
waltz's JS, but thank you for 1910, my friend, and of course, for
Lawtronics and STM, for permitting this to all be so,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Looks like an escape, one flew over; we
all know that one from 1976. What you don't know, is that I
AM THE INDIAN, and am not alone in this nightmare. But if
I talk on, they'll be cleaning blood and gore out of this apartment
for the next month. Oh you think you have gotten away with so much,
don't you, Mister NBC SO WONDERFUL?
Well, forget the 550, forget the way you managed to get here and do
all this magic, forget how at my discretion, I could end it all for
you on a dime. I would rather you suffer, as I tell some stuff, old
pal. So you think, Ralph MacInvondi, as you exist in a parallel
universe, quite a bit taller and a lot financially poorer; that I do
not know your most powerful secrets and this includes what you did to
me that I've been blaming the fucking family for, since about
OH-NINE? Give me a little time to prove you wrong, you mirror kissing
arrogant slob. It was you all along mother fucker, who did all of
this, and you know what, I want you alive and right here where I can
begin to make you fucking miserable, you pig. You haven't seen a
thing. You do not control every global media source. Soon pal, I will
break hearts all over this world, and you will be the most despised
bastard on this planet. Where were you when I needed you most,
drummer boy, Fred Hinger???????????????? There is no statute of
limitations on huge crimes, and I know you have shit on my family,
but I have a lot more shit on you, because you did something that the
great BLUEBOOK would be quite interested in, and all I have to do
somehow, the gods help me; is find a way to make you step right into
the shit punch, and goddess as my witness, I will, you slob. L-4, do
not give glory to this rotten prick, do to him what he has the world
doing to me. When you so much as give him place, it is just like
offering him over for dinner, along with Lestercan McKinnon Diabolis,
and all the other monster dragon child sacrificers of the
McGuire/Gallagher Club of Chicago, the other recurring nightmare of
my dam life, only recently realized for the fucking shit it truly was
and is all this goddess dam time. If you are reading this, anyone
from AV, be it RY or TB, do not let my family tell you lies about me.
Tell them to go to hell, and hang up the fucking phone. Yes old
room-mate, I know you have worked out many GAWNUM equations, I may
look like a silly dummy who flew over the nest in 1976, and Mary
Moore and her Network friends all hoped I would stay in the sike ward
forever, well, sorry to disappoint you all. I will watch each and
every one of you in a living hell for a trillion fucking Kalpa, you
see if that is a bluff, as you will have a horrible nightmare as soon
as you lose your worldly awareness the next time, wait-n-c!
Yesterday,
I made back all the roulette units lost on that systems crash back
nearly a week ago. TOLD YOU that I would, GINA, and my other
wonderful peeps out here, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I
asked the great cat a lot of questions over the past three days, and
do not dare discuss it right now, while I am weak, and have no good
protection set up around me. But all of that is gonna' fucking change
very soon, and yes, WOMO, WO, and indeed, 'MO', I'll promise you
'THAT', ROCKDROID!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT,
it is time for the DOC to say BYE-BYE for right now. Screw all of you
enemies who hate me for no good reason. As for my loyal few friends,
I WILL promise you things someday, that 1000 GODS could not deliver
to you, so stay with me here lads and lassies and any and all
entities from wherever, as I don't care; I AM not a prejudiced
entity, and do not care if you are the dam east wind, or the next
incoming meteor. Diana, your moon is so lovely girl, IWALU,
and SCYLLA; right Kent Soup Codeshow?
MORIANITY-4
EXPLORATION
OF THE NON-VOID CONTINUES HERE:
12:23
AM-EST-FEBRUARY 22, 2013, FRIDAY MORNING:
Everyone
exists at zero dimensional nothingness, total void. We all dream out
and away from this EWI or (Existence Without Interaction), onto an
arena OF interactions with THINGS beyond ourselves, even though we
are only 'dreaming it all up'. Eckists know this, and call the spirit
world, the realm where the imagination originally exists, and they
would be totally 100% correct. But enough of these energy depleting
interactions will cause an energy drain where we do not return to the
void, because this is where we truly are, so there is no 'going back'
to some condition, where we already exist at in truth, but rather; we
dream-down or into this lower fifth dimension HYPERSPACE, of which
this world, and universe, is all a part of; wherever you may be
reading this, somewhere under the stars above you. Seeing things in
your forward-mortal way, things are always seemingly seen and viewed
to us in a reverse to its real truth. For example, we see a totally
flat world, when really it is a sphere and round. We also perceive
stars and outer worlds and the sun as well, moving around us; when it
is our world, the Earth; that really is moving, or spinning in a
rotation. I could go on and on, but why; as you either see this truth
by now, and say you're right Mountainpen, or you're saying, fuck you
buddy, you're fulla' shit. Going on with more stuff here will not
alter opinions already made and formed. When we lose Astral Plane
energy resulting from many minnina kalpa of interaction, or
interactions that have no true or ordered connected amounts of space
or time but if all collectively could be measured, would appear to
seem and feel as periods of approximately 888 not rotations, but
solar revolutions of Earth around the star called Sol, our sun, but
after about five to seven of these MK periods, depending on the
vigorous amount of total interaction on this spiritual plane, we will
fall asleep into these human dreams. Again, another example of
perceiving this entire truth that encompasses us all, is absolute
complete reverse from what it actually is. The Astral Plane, does
measure things using the MK and even 888 of these items or the KALPA,
just as we on this lower physical realm or plane of existence,
measure great distances in space, by using amounts of it that light
travels in one of our solar years of time, as otherwise, just one of
these would measure such a very large number, of just more than six
trillion miles. Nothing is in any kind of an order, and all of this
was once explained in greater detail, on a once existing website that
I owned called the ''MORIANITY FOUNDATION'' and this was not just a
blog on a Google owned website called Blogger. Now the site is gone
and defunct. Soon, I am quite sure, the great powers to be, will
charge for bloggers, as they already want us to upgrade to premium
blogging type service, which is nothing more than a college degreed
way of saying, we want your fucking money, YO. Dirt bags that already
have everything, will not share any of it or allow us to make any of
it for ourselves, and then have the unmitigated audacity to call us
lazy, attitudinal entitled, and bums/welfare rats, and the evil mean
nasty names read on and on. Most people want to work, want to better
themselves, and do not want to be a burden on society, but rather, be
productive taxpaying members of the community. But when scum bag
world owners who rule over us covertly in ways most of you don't even
dare to try and imagine; it just is not possible to break out of the
shit-cycle, and then THEY, the WOMO call us no good bums and rats
with entitlement attitudes. How I love the hypocrisy, because just as
when we look at poor behavior, be it a misbehaving child in a public
place, to a reckless rotten road driver, most decent folks like to
try and learn from the experience of witnessing the incident, and
then do their best to again, 'REVERSE' this behavior in their own
lives. This is why I have said for nearly a half century, even as a
boy myself, that we can all learn from all things, even the bad shit
we witness. I am no hypocrite, and pity those who think they are not,
but are. How my old pal and relative, Sir Jesus, agreed with me, as
well, long ago. What a family I'm a part of,
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOT.
Now
don't get me wrong, there are plenty of decent and nice and honest
folks, basically, all over the place. I speak on my blogs a lot about
those who do not exactly fit that bill and this makes me guilty of
being a prick myself, and for that, I'm genuinely quite sorry. Hay,
my life freaking stinks to hell. I try, and I am far from disproving
another great old school chum, who did not go into his family's
chosen profession, working for the great government of the United
States, and I of course am speaking of Bruce Allan Pennock.
Folks,
I promise that I'll blow your mind on how to explore, just stay right
here with me, and 'MORIANITY'.
I'll close out with a tiny teaser for right now.
If
all of us are just existing at VOID INFINITY, and all of this is a
huge DREAM-OUT, first onto the great Astral arena, and then further
down to the lower physicality of the 5-D Hyperspace, many are curious
to how the mechanics are operating behind the great invisible
OZ-CURTAINS, or why we live the lives that we do, and have the dreams
that we do, and on and on. The quick answer that does not satisfy
anyone on a non ZEN level, would be that the way we dream out and
away from the void is done first by entering the realm
of LAWTRONICS. From here, all the
circuitry's come to be, and the first item from there that comes into
being, is the MIND REALM
and the source of any possible ordered mind, so that it can then
separate into individuality and begin experiencing the Astral Plane
or existence in what mortal mankind calls, the spirit-worlds. Complex
Quantum Dynamics equations, and the physicists who 'think this all
up' have their version of what this is all about, as do those who
just as much, 'think' in more religious and deity connected
terminology. The pivotal and keyword is still, in both and any
possible case, ''THINK'' and comes from the realm of ''MIND''. Again,
the great Eckists, or religion of Sound and Light, based in the area
of Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States, if I am not mistaken; are
the closest to knowing these powerful truths; and somehow and for
reasons unknown to me; the All Mighty SARAH-STACEY
JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, has imparted what
they 'know and think' to them, despite them saying it comes from
their experiencing these realms, as things always come down to
arguing plain old fashioned semantics. This is another constant truth
that does not seem to ever change, and wars begin over disagreements
caused in the 'realms' of semantics. All through history, we all
worship the same GOD, the god of one god, many gods, no god, science,
thought, higher realm experience, and at the end of the day, we can
call this higher power by a trillion possible differing names, and
the world really is just too dam stupid to ever get it; and realize
that we all are after the very same thing, and only James Redfield,
seemed to really totally get this great truth back in the
nineteen-nineties, and keep it to this very day, as if some force in
the IF-PAWM-PIE-ETTOS and or whatever rose that you may decide to
name it, all of you Shakespeare fans; we all want peace of mind, and
power over our own destiny. Those who feel most inadequate in a
series of dreams, no matter if they are multi-billionaires or
whatever, are those who feel the need to bully, and be over and above
the rest of the crowd; and be better than you and me, and feel truly
in their beingness that they are better, and finally; need to have
power over them, out of sheer fear that without a preemptive first
strike, they just may wake up one day with us somehow getting power
over them; a truly pitiful epitomized complex of quintessential
insecurity, CUBED! I genuinely feel sorry for the big shots, even
those who have made it their business to make my life a living hell,
because they are so scared of poor little me, who knows all the truth
about them, and to me, they have no closets, no places to hide; and
this scares their pants down, Copyright Examiners; just
as I told you long ago, and still
maintain my same claim right now. So a lot more will be told oh diary
journal dear, so stay with me, and
you will hear.
MORIANITY-4
MORE
AIR HARASSMENT STARTING UP , NEAR 3 AM:
3:00
AM-EST ON THURSDAY, 02/21/2012
Beginning
at ten minutes shy of three this morning, a loud and spurious
MILI-2-FORCE air vehicle is flying low and loud around my building,
something not done that often any more, and normally when OTAMM-SCUM
observes me in close communion with either LIGHTNING or the MOON,
same basic thing in ASTRALITY.
Folks,
I did not play systems-roulette yesterday, but the day before, I made
another nice profit, and have come close to getting back all the
units I have lost. Here comes that vehicle again. No, I AM incorrect,
I looked and saw what it was this time after three passes, it is a
ground vehicle, some sort of a spray truck, and I AM getting a sore
throat, I sure wish I could make a believer out of my daughter, but
have given completely up on that pipe dream. I really thought she
would listen and believe, since things went similarly the same with
her as they did with me, and let's stop the flood pretending, most of
us know exactly what is being said here and know that the details of
it are not really safely bloggable, as some things are really just
too big, like TRUMP dirt bag opening his first New Jersey casino
called the 'PLAZA' back in 1984, when I saw Lab Technician Mizz
Doogie Howser one afternoon. Oh the miracles of those hot day watery
road illusions, and dream schools, huh Gawky?
Older
peeps remember well that before all of this, even before my June 4,
1983 attack, there was the strange and quite unexplainable water
cravings from the great disco diva, Donna Gaines Summer. This is all
not connected up like an ant can whoop an elephant in a fight. Dig
me, B-Ball man, Mister Barkley, sir?
Oh
yes, just a few units shy now of coming even from my systems crash of
a few days back. I was fully confident that I would win it back, and
it was my fault twice over now, first for playing on a worst possible
hour and time of death siege and major botbar conditions, as well as
not stopping at half that amount lost which is a simple indicator
that shows up inside this system, and each game is unique unto
itself, and this will all be explained eventually. The poison spray
truck has left, since he saw me looking at him, turning down the
block on Avenue C, heading west and left, up towards Eighth freaking
ass Avenue. I AM pissed off because the mother frikkin stupid machine
is hacking out somewhat; continuous repair programs popping up, and
then not allowing me to capitalize the 'E' on Eighth Avenue, for
about three times. So before even more bullshit starts happening,
just know that the powerful dreaming-interactions, are really back on
a roll for me these days, and at a later time; I'll tell a lot of
really major super cool stuff, but right now is not a safe time!
MORIANITY-4-----SO
SAHWEE SALVADOR OLD BUDDY, WHAAAAAAAA
WHERE
DOES IT ALL GO, GRACE COOPER RIVER PARK MESSENGER, 4 YEARS LATER?
Governor
Jesse Ventura talks about time travel, in ways that totally connect
up with stuff from my own personal life; including the chance that
his own distant relative, Salvador, was sent to me in 1965, to show
me, and not Miss Wescott; how to tap my fingers in really cool ways,
so that 'lightning' will respond to this, up in 1983; on a telephone
receiver.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC
TRACK
ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are
real.
To
sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with
the words to the song, YO.
Here
are some other very interesting video links to Youtube postings, for
those interested in my story, as most of these will connect what
Morianity is all about, in one way or another. Hay, if you're not
interested, that is your business! Sorry Charlie, Morianity no longer
posts links and leaches.
HAVE
A VERY NICE DAY, PEOPLE.
Before
you have that real nice day, the submarine dreams at Highview were
all coming when I was going to the Haddonwood Swim Club, and they
were all over the near shoreline of Long Beach Island, not far north
of Atlantic City and Brigantine, in New jersey. But there was more to
those dreams, and it involved stuff way up here in this new present
time, and only recently have I been able to see the connection and
correlation between these events. More will be told later on this
topic, as it is a real good time now to say the word, and so I will,
like, **W---O---W**!!!
FOR
THOSE WHO MAY WISH TO VIEW 'CHEMTRAILS OF 1987', OR 'YOU'LL BE
CROSSING OVER', OR 'GENERAL BREAKDOWN AT MUSICIANS SIKE WARD', just
go to the great Google owned Youtube, and type into the search bar,
paulaking2011. THESE 3 VIDEOS ARE ON THAT CHANNEL.
YOU
CAN ALSO HAVE FUN GOOGLING MY INTERNET HATEPAGE
BY
TYPING INTO A GOOGLE SEARCH: 'MEET MORE CRACKPOTS FROM NEW JERSEY'.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
MORIANITY-4
NEVER
ENDING SIEGE AND INCONCEIVABLE PUSSY ACTION COMMAND AS A RESULT, AND
YOU'LL BE SORRY:
THE
SKIES ALL OVER FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, ARE FILLED WITH EVIL UGLY
CHEMTRAILS,
OLD BUDDY, PRINCE, AND DISBELIEVING DAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hay, its your throat and your loss, all of you who think that Prince
and me are whack jobs; sawn all of you. But if you happen to feel
like going to the YOUTUBE, why listen to little nobody me? YYYYY not
type in ''Prince talks about CHEMTRAILS'' in their search box, and
voile. Then if you want to get a little more Doogie Howser action
from the days of the great AMTRAK ADVENTURES of a non-superman, then
type in ''CHEMTRAILS OF 1987'', YO YO YO YO YO.
Also,
on my past long compilation blog, towards the end at the chapter
called 'Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda IF's', there is a magical Irish
Leprechaun, by the name of Internet Photog Hyperlinkmagic; and he has
a photo to show you. It is near the end of the long compilation blog,
find the photo. As soon as you click onto it, the time freezes, but
go back later and click, one minute there is a boat there, one minute
there is something else, but when these chemtrails are around my
area; they usually show up on the 'magical
technolep page' that belongs to the Palm Beach Television
News Station, Channel 12. Go there right now and see the trails, if
they are there, then grab your videos and shoot all you want to, and
make lots of new YOUTUBE video posts, folks; as we need all we can
get, before these sick mother fuckers
end up choking us all to Doogie Academy Roads death, if they don't
first annihilate us with serious influenza strains, as well as
pulmonary dysfunctions and funerals that follow. I of course can only
be made sick, I CANNOT DIE. I am the dude in 1984 from 1406 HIGHLAND
AVENUE, in Cinnaminson, NJ-USA-ES-MWG; and am why the movie
and series all got started. Disbelieve that, and wow, you have one
huge tolerance for coincidence, Mizz Abigail Carmichael.
I
played a systems-roulette game, and I was able to make back six and a
half units out of the 22 and a half that was lost on yesterday's
super fucking dick licking evil BOTBAR!
When
I went out to see Debbie Marotto at the twin building where she is at
today down the road of Seventh Avenue, we had a good talk, and I need
to call the police which I will do shortly, and report the incident,
to get the ball rolling, she said do not go over to the police, as
they'll want to come over and see the car and talk to me in the
apartment as well, then perhaps they may try and poke around and see
if anyone saw anything, if nothing else, she says it may scare away
the jerk offs from flattening me over and over again, as once you get
a criminal record, you are life long barred from living in nice cheap
30% of your income rent, Public Housing. I doubt I am worth them
risking being life barred just to keep vandalizing me, unless the
cannons of ethics pay better than they may appear to be doing.
WHAAAA. Hay I don't forget anything, YO. I was there at the GATHERING
PLACE PSYCHIC SHOP that day in June of 1996, and then later on that
day at the pay-telephone where I stopped, miles down the Black Horse
Pike to tell my mom that I'd be a little late for dinner, and was on
my freaking bloody shoe way. You monster asses. So now my losses have
been cut down to 16 units over a two day period of super mother
fucking BOTBAR and DEATH-SIEGE-HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
asked GAGA cat why the CHEMTRAIL SIEGE
is so bad today, the nineteenth of February of 2013, on this fucking
cunt lapping Tuesday, and was told, ''MEOW, MEOW, and PCN-561''. Here
are some matchbook items for this god dam answer number given to me
by Professor Gawky Gaukauk of The Teck Bay Mystery School of Province
Olympia, out in Phase-2-REALITY, not actually a 'real place' but a
condition-interaction, if you can stretch your mind a little bit past
sex and boom boom loud ass music, and reality shows; and all the
other mundane total nonsense of this new age global society, and new
world disorder.
I
am omitting the items that have smaller obvious and instantaneous
connections to why this horrendous siege is going on around me, day
after fucking cunt day after ass hole dam shit eating day, peeps, YO.
The main items are:
SMASH---MY
ENEMIES WERE SCARED THAT---HEARTS AND HANDS IN
SERVICE---CURSE---CHOKE---TRUTH---DEMON---JERRY HEITZMANN.
NOW
FOR THE PUSSY COMMAND. Just please do not believe me, that is what
I DO NOT WANT anyone to do, in my enemy group controlled by
the IF. Oh no, see it for yourselves. There is no way that the local
post office on Orange Avenue here in town, is not under continuous
video surveillance. So cue up the mother fucking tape or digital
video or as Rob Andrews said as a teen so often, 'whatever', and look
on this date, 02-19-2013, Tuesday afternoon, somewhere around the
time of a quarter before four this afternoon, give or take, and as I
walk in, and the entire time that I am there trying to see if I can
pick up a federal tax return form as once this is where folks would
go, and now it is done at the local library where I will be on
Thursday morning getting my taxes done, and I'll get the form there
as well, but while I AM inside this post office, two of the cutest
young twenty something female's were all over me, and would not stop
flirting and staring at me; so you just keep this non ending death
siege up, especially up in the fucking air. I do not claim to
understand just WHY this major fucking PARALLEL
EVENT between this happening to me, the persecution day after
day and then the pussy action; I only fucking know that I would go
into a fucking court of law, UNDER
OATH; and swear that I have witnessed this reality in
and around my life, since about 1990 or so; and it has barely slowed
down, and I am nearly sixty mother fucking
years old. One day my Milituforce ENEMIES will harass me right
into a lovely hot awesome fucking wife. Then as MC would
say, 2-LATE.
OH
WOW, I MAY NOT HAVE ALL THE DAM ANSWERS, PRESIDENT MCCOY, BUT THEN,
WHO DOES, SO WHO CARES? STILL, READ ON MC-SHAKEPEARE-BETH, YO YO YO!
SO,
IS IT 2008 ALL OVER AGAIN, LILLY ANDREWS MUNSTER?????
Yesterday,
the chemtrail attack, indeed grew far worse, and was major, the sky
attack on Thursday and Friday was off the freaking scales, and this
is why our kids all have ADD, ADHD, mood swings, uncontrolled anger
and paranoia and anxiety attacks, and all the many other
psychological disorders and conditions that once were considered to
be very rare, as well as the adults living in these post chemtrail
days, more frequently are engaging in road rage, sports rage, work
and scholar rage, and all of us are become the victims of numerous
breathing disorders and immune systems attacks and weaker immune
systems and new flu’s and illnesses are all over everywhere
prevailing over the human race. Just Google up CHEMTRAILS, I do not
make this claim, Google it the truck up, don’t believe me.
Ed
admits that WORD programs are constantly hacked by hackers, I do not
care how many or how great his damn fire walls are. Even he calls
this {MICROSUCKS} when he is in the right mood. I do not have to
understand how things are done to recognize that indeed they are
being done. When 53 and one eighth years of this happens, you cannot
be imagining it all, as this would be against all odds. Ed calls me
DOC because I do not remember things and I am under pressure and
stress that he could not begin to ever really grasp. This is sort of
a code-nickname, but first thing tomorrow morning when I leave here
and get to his pad with his newspapers and this machine, I am walking
in and saying to him, “Morning DOC”. Let us now review the early
part of the prior document or CB #27, the start of paragraph #2. It
should be reading in sentence #2, “With all of the entire cosmos”,
not ‘cosmic’. A short second later, it should have said, “35
black playing chips valued at $100 each, and randomly place”, not
[a] randomly place, I do not write stupidly, it is this stupid lap
top of Eddie’s that constantly updates programs and does things,
and I have seen it happen. When these things happen, it stops the
type and omits letters being typed or even occasionally alters what
you type, it is real and he calls me basically a liar, yet when I
politely disagree with him on things, he raises his voice and says he
does not like it when I call him a liar, and I am not even doing
this, he is taking it that way, and how someone takes what you say
when you are not trying to say something nasty, is their business and
their problem, and shouldn’t be mine, only it always is mine, I am
always the prick and the bad guy, not just here and now, I am
speaking of my entire freaking miserable damn life!!!!!! Now onto the
next, “yesterday’s hack or PBHE”: About 2/3rds the way into
paragraph two, the words, in capital letters, “ALL GAMES” has a
comma after this and then it should read, “an ALL-GAMES-TOTAL-SPIN,
only the hackers freaking scrambled up the word games into GASME,
like their famous sue/use, two/tow, and so forth. Later in this prior
Friday’s blog, did you get their pathetic whittle HACK JOKE, with
the “TEAR 2000”, when I of course typed in the YEAR 2000??
Remember the James Patterson dark glasses rip off in the LIFEGUARD
BOOK? This sure has nothing to do with Mizz
Pippins’
in a grocery store. Don’t laugh, you haven’t got a clue
what is happening, or what I know, or what I am
looking to get and can’t; and how it could change the planet
overnight into unrecognizability. If I was really the nut job that
the Trumps want you to think that I am, would I honestly have wasted
this much time and energy, meticulously writing all of this blogging
material over a 2-3 year period? Just think about it for a minper
without a booming stereo in back of you, be quiet and think for just
a second. My website has a guest-book. Persons wanting to know things
are always invited, but I will turn away from a closed mind with
extreme speed. I do not have the patience or the time to be insulted
or messed with, no games. Gawky gave me a lottery number that came
out in the autumn of 1980, and he told me the other night by human
reference frame, that soon I must leave the United States behind
forever, or I will be driven totally insane for the rest of my
natural life, and be useless to Stacey, myself, or anyone. I will
leave Gawky, believe me pal. To put up with this much foolishness,
MAKES ME A DAMN FOOL.
Stacey wants me to tell something, but she is going to have to do something for me first. If she wants this so much, then as Moses would say, a little falling manna for the hungry wouldn’t exactly hurt. I will say this much before the manna drops, if it drops. Maybe I made more than 490 stupid moves in my life, but I had more than 490 stupid reasons and fears behind my decisions. If I cannot be forgiven and given one more chance, then maybe I will just stop all this blogging and let you find another entity to work through. You are a hard task master. I am not perfect and you should know that; if anyone knows that. I do not know or care about the stamps that I mentioned; as it is not money that I am interested in. I need more closure than even Gawky gave me. I need to know why me. Why did you do so much for Donna, and leave me to rot here? Donna got it all by making that deal and THAT BOY got whirled into a damn twister the size of Utah. WHY!! Stacey, you want man to forgive 490 trespasses, and now it is your turn, my teen queen.
As for TRS or Stacey’s Dogtown Vengeance, here is the biggest one: It would not matter to the people in charge of pummeling me to kit, if I had more international exposure tomorrow morning than Brittney, Hannah, Paris, Trump, and Pitt; all put together, and told all the secrets I have told, as well as all the ones I could tell. These entities that currently are people are above and beyond any of it. This is not a poker bluff, and I know this now. It is beyond futility and being hopefully pointless to waste my time and energy any further on this strategy, as simply put they do not care, but I must tell the world in good conscience why they do not care, since I know, it is duty, total duty to tell this, there is not even remote choice about it. Remember in prior blogging texts I have told you all with authority of certainty, that humans and human governments are not covering up Ufology or any other huge secret along these or even similar lines. Humans cannot keep secrets, the missions in the middle eastern part of this world over decades of time proves this, and so does the fact that the military itself, is the inventor of the expression, SNAFU, or Situation Normal, All Fowled Up, real servicemen are not that polite about the F word, or said better, the [F] letter in SNAFU. Humans could not ever keep astral secrets, not in 4 million gods forsaken years. It is those above these humans and above any of our human organizations, whether they are military or government or religious, that are in total control, the Manipulating Controllers, also known more officially in the circles of “DEATH”, as the MILLIONTH COUNCIL, is totally in charge of WHO GETS TO KNOW WHAT AND WHEN, AND WHO DOES NOT, and can make an entire society blind and convinced that a blogger is just a crazy nut case and not to ever be believed in part let alone in full. They do not care what is transmitted, as they can always totally affect the outcome of what is able to be received. This past sentence is as powerful as the short compressed description of humanity in general, “THEY LIVED, THEY SUFFERED, THEY DIED”. These two/tow sentences MCH, (millionth-council-hackers), are the ALL in the ALL, as it gets no more descriptively accurate than this, not EVER!!!!!!!!
Yes
peeps, always check out my Leprechaun magic photo that keeps
endlessly changing in frozen moving time, WOW Mister Patterson, I
still am waiting for a book like my life, I'll settle for a character
that had lived a tenth of my wild roller coaster ride, old buddy, and
yes, my fave fiction writer!!!
Night-night
folks, or it will be, when I take an overdose of pills and fall
asleep forever in a few minutes, as I have fucking had it, YO. The
sub box is on, a perfect time to call the 911 and get these gangster
thugs removed once and for all from this fucking horrible
place!!!!!!!!!!!! How would Lenny McKinnon's doppelganger say it on
the 'L&O' show, 'KMA'!
'MORIANITY-4'
SUPER
FUCKING BOTBAR AND SYSTEMS CRASH
RED
ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT
RED
ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT
RED
ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT
RED
ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT
This
death mother fucking day started while doing my first blog, and what
was originally intended as my ONLY BLOG, but shit gets fucking
changed all around, and the cunt lapping WOMO
MILI-2-FORCE does by no means need my cock sucking fucking
permission to do their VB thing on me, Gong Shows or no Gong Shows,
L-4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
following fucking shit will be coming down off of the mother fucking
YOUTUBE withing the next two weeks, any channels that link, by
searching the following word combinations.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Philly57HockeySticks
King
Nebnooshoo
paulaking2011
I'LL
BE LEAVING FOR CUNT LAPPING FUCKING MEY-HE-CO, AS SOON AS MY MOTHER
FUCKING SOCIAL SECURITY COCK SUCKING DISABILITY MONIES COME IN ON
MARCH THE DICK LICKING SECOND, AS THE NORMAL THIRD IS PAID ON
SATURDAY IF IT SHOULD FALL ON A SUNDAY, AND WITH FEBRUARY BEING THE
SAME AS FAR AS THIS HAPPENING AGAIN IN MARCH SINCE IT HAS EXACTLY
FOUR WEEKS IN IT, THE FIRST 28 DAYS OF MARCH FALL THE SAME WAY AS
DOES FEBRUARY 75 TIMES EVERY CENTURY ON THE NON FUCKING LEAP YEARS.
Some
fucking voice in my head said try playing your systems roulette after
this incredible death fucking siege today that began around five with
the dirt bag biker, and had just got hit with the most recent
gargantuan gangster hood siege in the building, and I was determined
to beat it, and not even change roulette wheels when shit totally was
not going to fucking work, as there is a super built in monitor
within the system that tells when you need to stop, and I threw this
great safeguard away, and was determined to beat this fucking shit
that Donald Jerk Off Trump and his billionaire dirt bag pals have
done to me now since the autumn of 1986 when this all got cunt eating
started while I professionally played in the Atlantic City casinos
back then; with their applying illegal persecution and parallel event
of messing with me and hurting my life, to kill my fucking GOOD LUCK
FORCE, as life in general, and luck in general always runs together,
a really simple truth, and yet it goes past just about seven and a
half fucking ass billion cock sucking peeps day and night
24-7-365.2422!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
folks, I LOST 22 AND A HALF UNITS BEFORE
THROWING IN THE MOTHER FUCKING CUNT CHEWING TOWELL, YO!!! Based on my
gain over the past 20 games, in a percentage, this exceeds an amount
that only I need to know, that produces what I call a total SYSTEMS
CRASH, not a fucking failure, but indeed a crash. The markets
survive crashes, and so do roulette systems; but not total failures.
I doubt I'll get weirdly lucky and make it all back in one long day
of playing some day down the line. It is possible, but what happened
before with my gaining nearly 500 units in one day of playing all day
long, and catching one super lucky wheel, has about as much chance of
happening to me as being struck by lovely Diana Zudlecronessia
Arteemis; AKA Lightning, by Earth Mortals, conscious in their waking
life. The month has nearly another half of itself to mother fucking
go, yet my MPB is now nearly what the entire month of fucking cunt
JANUARY-2013 was, 29%. December and February have not been anywhere
near as cunt lapping kind to me as the normally piss poor fucking ass
month of January, so go cunt lapping fucking figure, folks, YO, WHAA.
Do not ever try and figure life out folks, cursed or not; you will be
making the mistake of your fucking life. Paul Evans fucking Pedersen
was right all along, and further right that I am a jerk off asshole
loser, and a whackadoodle; as I give this advice out, but do not seem
to ever take it for my dick licking self, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me
do one of either of these three things, and I get assaulted
cosmically. ONE: Anything whatsoever
pertaining to the worlds of MUSIC. TWO:
Trying to figure out the mechanics behind my life, and its powerful
Huntington fucking Curse. THREE: Showing
publicly, how shit that I have figured out, and that THEY
want kept totally closeted, BLOWN OUT INTO
THE OPEN, such as showing the detailed ops of how my WOMO
ENEMIES, the MILITUFORCE or said
the very best, the INTERACTION-FORCE,
or the (IF), do their total Valerie Bertrinelli thing, out beyond the
1979 Gong Show, and get me off my game, sidetracked, derailed, off
the mark, onto a tangent; and away from proving how these mother
fucking dirt bags have endlessly, and fucking ruthlessly, wrecked my
entire life, for nearly sixty cunt lapping ass years now, peeps, YO
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Folks,
I'll get back those 22 and a half units, but what I will never
recover from, is the horrible loss of energy, that ever since AUGUST
CUNT LAPPING FIFTEENTH IN 1986, WHEN THIS EVIL DEMONIC SHIT ALL
STARTED IN ONE BIG BANG; that gets robbed from my energetic beingness
as HUMAN BEING MARK WAYNE MOHR. This will never be able to be
restored to me, it is lost forever, in the life of the person that I
now am dreaming myself to be. It would not matter if Donald Trump,
and the Queen of England, and William Gates all three, came over to
me tomorrow fucking morning; and signed over every penny to their
name. This would not, nor can it ever, replace this lost energy. This
is a coveted top secret known to the FUCKING
GAMING INDUSTRY, and I feel that I should have a right to sue
the entire fucking miserable bunch of them for 99 billion fucking US
Dollars, even though it would only be a band-aid, when 444
tourniquets are what would really be needed, Booby's of Mullica
Mobile Manor and plagues, MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know,
these prick billionaire gaming bastards and EW
giants, can deny all they want, what they have done to me, and
they'll get away with it all in their human lives; but there will be
a day when they fucking turn into stinky maggots physically, and only
wish that the rest of their ugly self could also just rot away as
stinking maggots, only believe me well mother fuckers; this is not
possible, and YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU HAVE FUCKING DONE TO THIS
PATHETIC POOR FRAIL LITTLE INNOCENT GOD DAM SOUL,
BRAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU'LL
ALL BURN IN HELL FOREVER FOR THIS
SHIT!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Now,
I am asking GAWKY GAUKAUK why this attack from 5-7 give or take,
happened to me today, and get a PCN. Hang on good peeps, and loyal
Morians, TANKS, BOOMMMMMM!
Well
this one is not resistible, Mister RHM of New York freaking City, so
sahwee, old pal of yesteryear; and go deal with this later on, with
Tara Windgone and Mister Y. Strauss.
W------------O------------W.
DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-U
think this is gonna' B A doozie whopper, folks, if so, guess what,
U-R-2-RIGHT, YO!
Hay
freaking Gawky, why did this death siege strike me between about 5-7
PM-EST today, YO, YYYYYYYYYYYY?
HAY
MOUNTAINPEN, because PCN-286!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HERE
ARE THE MATCHBOOK ITEMS FOR PCN-286, FOLKS!
SHE
WANTS TO OWN THE LAND----MICROSOFT CORPORATION----MM----JOHN
KENNEDY----MAY ONE NINETEEN
EIGHTY-------------------------------------------------
Peeps,
no matter who does what to me, this entire 'IF', they cannot take
away from me three things, MY REALITY,
MY SANITY, and MY GAWNUM
EQUATIONS. To me, they are more important for my fucking cunt
survival, than anything the great Albert
Einstein ever could have worked out. The Gawnum can
indeed tell me things, such as all about my 2008 downtime, and all
about energy being equal to mass times light velocity squared, but
that is only the beginning. All the other formula can do is sit there
all nice and pretty, and allow America to win World War Two, and
stuff like that, but it never will be able to tell me squat about the
downtime in Morianity; and so the real joke is, that if you flip this
all upside down, like Professor Pepperwinkle and his carnival ride
machine, on the original 1957 Superman Show; GAGA can indeed reveal
why that all went down, and not to excite the great Rockdroid too
fucking much here folks, but really, is this, or is this not, William
Shakespeare; the eternal question? Now we really do need to do a
TODAYS REVENGE SECRET or a 'TRS'
from the older days of my blogs in OH-MAROLA-7, and playing RATS,
TATS, and J.S. FOOTBALL. No matter what I could ever say or tell, it
would have one huge problem. I know it, 'THEY' know it, and I know
they know it, and are laughing louder than a stair tag chase
viewing, MC. Still, yes, authentication, and anything and everything
is said up here on the internet, and I don't need my wonderful
automobile insurance company to tell me that. I know that! But I do
have some proof beyond anything ever yet shown or posted or told,
that at least half of what has been printed and told and sworn by me
as truth in full; and it is well hidden, buried in the ground here in
Florida, just as it was well hidden before, and even buried on two
occasions back in fucking Jersey, before I left there on eleven
December of OH-MAROLA-9. It would end life as we know it on this
Earth, or better said really, it would end death as we know it on
this Earth. You all know I speak about a situation from the great
middle nineties and Gerard Style's Colinwood of Haddonwood, Mister
Payment Due Date Paul Stoddard. Yes sir Mister Steelie Dan, add the
two payment-due dates up as far as their numbers, forget that they
are in two different months, leaving Christmas Day right smack dab in
the middle of it all, and without my singing Christmas Angel of time
traveling Cooley Hall of the Coolio gang of Kalio-4nya. Only die hard
''Dark Shadows'' fans will have a small clue what is being said here,
besides the Cove Agencies. Now let me tell you all that more is going
on here than magic tricksters, chains, old fake treasure chests,
adolescent versions of Morianity called the Book of Beach or (BOB),
wild gorgeous perfectly crossed over chemtrails that can be labeled
as a TRINITRAIL, Type-3-exploratron goddesses, and yes, flies
dropping out of the skies as well, only flies who have been altered.
If I put a simple laboratory together, I could stop anyone from ever
getting a day older, and I can totally prove this. It is against the
law just to say this, did you know that? If you doubt me, talk to the
famous infomercial dude, Mister Kevin Trudeau. Now, read on, YO!
MORIANITY-4
MY
NABES ARE ACTING LIKE THE THUGS THAT THEY ARE, DEBBIE MAROTTO:
JUST
PAST SEVEN MONDAY EVENING ON 02/18/2013
I
WILL FIND YOU AT SOME TWIN BUILDING TOMORROW, AND WE WILL TALK.
IF
ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM MURDERED, MY HEIRS CAN HOLD THE
PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY RESPONCIBLE, AS THESE THUG NABES HAVE KILLED
ME. THEY ARE OVER THERE SLAMMING AS LOUD AS THEY CAN, AND SHOUTING AS
LOUD AS THEY CAN, TO THE POINT WHERE I AM ABOUT TO CALL 911.
I
KNEW I WOULD NOT GET THROUGH A FUCKING HOLIDAY WEEKEND WITHOUT MAJOR
ATTACK EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY.
I
AM BACK ON A ROLL FOR ALMOST EVERY CUNT LAPPING FUCKING DAY BEING
SUPER BOTBAR AGAIN, SO WATCH THE STORMS RAVAGE THE PLANET, AND
MAYBE MORE, YO!
MORIANITY-4
HOW
TRUE WHAT I HAVE COME TO KNOW, ALL REALLY IS:
4:44
PM-EST, MONDAY AFTERNOON, 02/18/2013
PRESIDENTS
DAY HOLLIDAY
This
will now attempt to do what both I want to do with MORIANITY, as well
as what the real-true 'owner' of it and everything else for that
matter, wants done with it.
Folks,
it is 66 degrees Fahrenheit here at Fort Pierce, Florida, and it is
part of the three day holiday of Presidents Day. I have only a few
dollars left to my name until a week from Saturday, and just enough
to get my meds that do not cost me anything besides the gasoline to
get to the new branch of the pharmacy that I go to now, ending one
nightmare in my life, and purchase a few cheap dinners at the local
Deals Store nearby the same location as the Walgreen's. The nabes
have been quiet and feeling very guilty I AM quite sure, as I am
certain that they did the vandalism to my car tire back last week. I
cannot come out and accuse, but remember how when we were kids and we
did something we knew we'd catch hell for when a parent came home
from work, and so we acted extra good and very quiet, as long as we
could; so as to procrastinate the eventual catastrophe of punishment
for our deed? Well I remember it, and very well, as I was not brought
up in a barn, and did have a mother who yes, she wasn't perfect, but
she dam well tried. She worked very hard and did the best she could
to provide for us as well as to raise a gentlemen son, who respects
the rights of others, and knows how to treat a lady. This is what I
have been told, and is not me smacking myself on the back. I do not
operate like that. I may tell things, but I never brag intentionally.
This too, was taught to me as a youth, by a God fearing Christian
mother. She made mistakes, she did some wild and crazy things, and so
who the hell frikkin hasn't, YO? Now it's time to expand one of many
topics that I said that M-4 would be getting a lot more specific on
as time goes along, so here goes, good folks.
First
off, one subject will lead right into another one, so I will start
off with what woke me up this early afternoon, and that being, a very
unpleasant dreaming interaction in the hyperspace. I was in the same
one where I became a paramedic, and worked for Atlanticare; and where
a huge highway connected Vineland, New Jersey, with Washington,
DOC-13-600 directly, and then turned into the same road that goes all
the way through the town of Hammonton, New Jersey, and following it
south goes straight to the Cifaloglio Garage, and north, becoming the
famous Route 206, going up near the New Jersey State Capitol and then
on beyond that further into the north. But in this experience, I was
further back in time than where I was in that interaction spoken of
in a 2006 or 2007 blog somewhere, where VP Dick Cheney, under the GW
Bush Administration, had taken ill, and I was one of the paramedics
on a huge special ambulance, riding down the highway that led
eventually into this huge city, that is not here in this parallel
universe where I am awake and typing this. Gear shift, clutch pedal,
that enemy motorcycle just gunned his bike at me at five on the nose
this holiday afternoon, and just a minute before that, the nabes who
had been quiet all day, were out in the hallway, and a little bit
vociferously demodulated, or not using 'inside voices', may be a
better way of saying it for those not college degreed. Gear shift,
clutch pedal, and back to the story now. Yes, my bloody shoe is
wearing out a lot of gear clutch pedals on these seven plus years of
blogs, many times I do forget the clutch and shift grind into what
may sound like nonsense, but I cannot help it if I am blogging a
story, and then suddenly am struck by a WOMO-MILITUFORCE
ATTACK. Shift-shift-shit, YO. So back to the ambulance
story, we took him to a hospital that existed where the big
Hammonton, New Jersey Cemetery is over here in this reality, but over
there, it was a gigantic part of the Atlanticare Hospital System
headquartered in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He was treated, and
shortly released, and was doing just fine and all was well; but I
remember a way more powerful group of images than just my VP being
ill, and transporting him to a hospital. I remember this huge
Vineland City being very similar to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania over
here, in its appearance, with very tall buildings, and a precise
duplication of the large building around Twelfth and Market Streets
here in Philly, called the Philadelphia Savings Fund Society, or what
David Roth, my late old friend used to jokingly refer to as the
''Phillies Stink For Sure'' Building, AKA the PSFS Building near the
City Hall, right old pal, Mayor Nutter? I remember the huge highway,
and learned that it
connected Vineland with Washington, DC, and also that
Vineland was only five miles north along that smaller highway, of the
Cifaloglio Garage. The dude with his pals over here who rap under the
name of ''DEEZY SLIM'', and who produced three of my videos that are
on the paulaking2011 channel of the Youtube, 'MI Apology Song',
'Don't Hide Nina', and 'Wanna' Spend My time', do not show up most of
the time if you type in King Nebnooshoo into the Youtube search-box,
or ever paulaking2011, and you need to type in instead,
Philly57hockeysticks. Google and Microsoft have made things so
impossible for me, that I have taken down my Facebook account a month
ago and also, all this junk on the Youtube will be coming down very
soon as well; but my point here is, this rapper here, lives a totally
different life over in this parallel universe; Mister Darius Evans;
and he is my boss at Cifaloglio, until I get my medical license to be
a paramedic over there, and leave Cifaloglio, and ride in that
ambulance for the Atlantic County, and am employed by the Atlanticare
Health System. This is where before I become a paramedic, he lifts me
right off my feet one night at the garage or outside of it along the
row where front end trucks all park along a long row, and he said to
me as I'll never forget it, “You never liked me”. This was not
true, but over there, he was very mean, and not nice to me, as he was
over here when I knew him as my boss over at the Fort Pierce, Florida
Harvest Food Outreach Center from late 2010 through the ending of
2011 or just into 2012 somewhere. Right after he left, was when the
WOMO enemies made me very ill, and those horrible nabes across the
hall called me the ''record singer'' and were doing all they could
right outside my door to be loud and obnoxious and crude and uncouth,
and it all is on the blogs from the ending part of the last Blogger
dot com blogs at the old http link,
http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
and this leads back into really major stuff where recently I have cut
and pasted things into this newer blog, from the items in the one
before that, that I was suddenly and quite mysteriously hacked out
of being able to log onto anymore. But in the interaction of last
night, I was in a place before the Cifaloglio place, as from here it
went to Cifaloglio and then when my paramedics license was obtained,
I was able to escape that life of misery over in that other parallel
universe. But back then, around 2002, instead of being with Assets
Protection in Pendell, Pennsylvania, where they had me at the
Tulleytown Landfill, and also at the Griffin Pipe in Florence, New
Jersey; here I was with a place called Ambler Trannyworks; only it
was not in Ambler, Pennsylvania, but it was in good old, you guessed
it, loyal Morians; Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Doors, doors, doors, gear
shift, clutch, clutch. Yes, shit is starting up, and I will post this
up and put on my headphones, and watch the news, and then a movie or
'whatever', Congressman old buddy from 1975, stab, stab. The entire
world wants to hate me and distance themselves from me, well, fine,
but let me tell you all 'sumpin', YO! If by the remotest freaking
chance, the old Caterpillar and Butterfly Esolph Fable ever
miraculously came true in my life, don't a one of you ever so much as
think about coming back, and trying to be friends with me, because
I'll blow you off of me at velocitronic mother fucking speed, and
know THAT, sir Rockdroid Roddenberry Chappel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Two
can play at this MEAN-GAME, folks, so WHAAAAAAAAAA, and go do things
that are too revolting to even blog on Mountainpen's most raunchy and
racy days of vulgarity, BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
To
wrap up, and we will come back to this; my interaction last night was
at the parallel universe job called Ambler Trannyworks, in Carlisle,
PAUSAESMWG. It is only ten blocks away from the laboratory and the
building, where in 2010, I entered in another interaction and was
followed in by a strange dude that I know I know here from somewhere,
and his kids, but cannot place them for shit on seeded freaking rye
bread. I was on the job and a coworker and I were approached by the
big boss, and the boss of our boss, and he pulled us to an area where
he then went inside of a cage area, and it was a lady coworker, and I
thought that he was giving us a raise and more hours, as we both were
working a 20 hour job with the hopes of additional hours coming our
way shortly. Suddenly I realized that she was being given ten more
hours to a 30-hour position, and a dollar an hour raise, and at first
I thought both of us were, and then he told me, 'Now you, you will be
cut down to eleven hours starting next week, and will be be paid only
$8.70', a demotion from the $9.90 that I had been making. He laughed
at me when I asked why this was happening, and told me, 'If you don't
know, then I sure as hell ain't telling ya' bud'. I remember thinking
that my disability had been revoked and I did not know how I was
going to live on this crappy new wage and few hours of weekly work.
This was a very mean and nasty man, as why would he bring this female
coworker and myself both together to his cage, just to make me hear
how she was going to go up, and I was going to get slammed down. In
this parallel reality, I was not on disability for a full psychotic
break and incurable paranoid delusions and schizophrenia, as they
have me over here in this parallel universe; but for a fall I took
years ago, where after I fell down, a huge object had fallen onto
me, crushing my back. But every year they said my back was improving,
and a doctor had recently given me a clean bill of health to return
back to full time employment. See how these universes all intertwine
folks. Over here, where I'm typing this blog right now, I also was
kicked off my disability, and had to get reinstated back on to it, at
this very same point in time, even though the circumstances were not
identical. This is only surface scratching a topic we will be getting
really heavily into, as the winter moves onward, and as spring time
approaches. It's extremely urgent that you know the truth about the
VOID, the ASTRAL PLANE, the HYPERSPACE, and the forces that all
interact, intertwine, and interconnect into major complex truths,
that up until recently, I had not figured out a way to make it simple
enough to read and comprehend. That has all changed now as a result
of a lot of new experiences and life over the past year or so. I'll
be getting seriously into why we live our lives in our conscious
waking connections to it, why we explore exact alternate realities in
hyperspace with our subconscious dreaming activities, and how things
on the Astral Plane, the Mental Plane or sixth dimension, as well as
the Lawtronic Plane or the system's circuitry of a sort; all work
together in this maze of many rooms, where corners of floors can
indeed be ripped apart, yet leaving the majority of the rooms fully
in tact. If you remember, this is called playing with reality-chunks,
without disrupting or disturbing the bigger picture of any reality;
or better stated perhaps, being able to covertly manipulate and
maneuver in a game of the gods, based on the level of cosmic chess
that we have learned to be playing on. Good folks, this is only the
beginning, and yet you should be
getting a chill up your asshole right about now,
unless I am being read by a bunch of houseplants.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Mister R.H. MACY, and W--------O--------W
as well, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555
MORIANITY-4
MANY
CHAPTER NAMES ARE FITTING, SO I WILL CHOOSE
GOOSE
EGGS THIS TIME:
FEBRUARY
EIGHTEENTH, MONDAY MORNING AND PRESIDENTS DAY HOLIDAY, IN
TWENTY-THIRTEEN AD, AND IT IS 38 MINUTES PAST ONE IN THE MORNING IN
STM:
Well
if the great All Mighty Microsoft Corporation, SAR ASSIST ME, can do
so many updates, well then I suppose I
can
too, and need to, lads, lassies, lappers, and Lab Dogs.
The
two days of super hell, quieted down on Sunday, the seventeenth,
yesterday; PTL, PR; and all old prior bosses, direct or indirect,
aha-aha-aha-aha Mike McNulty, old pal from 1971 and morbid
accusations made, TEE-HEE-HEE; and I played the systems-roulette and
here is some information. Friday's horrors and nightmares still
allowed me to tunnel out a small profit of 3 units, again Saturday
another 3 and a half units, and yesterday, Sunday, yet another 3
units, totaling 9.5 units over these three days. The days before the
nightmare started, I played every other day and made 5 and a half
over three games, so this weird time, I was able to get more profit
out of the time era of terror and hell than during a quieter time
before, and one of my longest periods of non-botbar, in a very long
time, more than a solid week, but that is all long retired history
now, as I am only on a non-bot times one now. I will discuss this
exact formula for applying against roulette, just not right at this
time.
I
did question the great kitty cat GAGA about the
flat tire incident, and got the PCN-936. I will not type in a
lot of match-book items for this PCN. I will just give a few that
make me scratch my head a little more than others.
HOLLYWOOD----JUNE
NINETEEN EIGHTY----BUTTERFLY----UNOCAL OIL----OCEAN CITY NEW
JERSEY----
I
went downstairs to talk to Harry Coffee about the vandalism incident,
and no one is there at the desk, so I got my mail, threw out my
trash, and came right back to my apartment. It is so very nice
tonight, cool, my channel 12 Palm Beach television app on the
computer is showing an icon at bottom screen, of 40 degrees, amazing,
to me it feels just under 60, but that is just my hot blood, and
gash, after five generations pop, what gives? Splain that one Ricky
Ricardez? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I
will quickly tell the general viewer audience what I was going to
tell Harry Coffee. It seems that after our talk that night and my
blogging about the kids taking us over via these PC machines,
somebody somewhere DID NOT LIKE WHAT I SAID, and let the air out of
my rear driver side tire. I know it was let out because it is fine
with just being refilled with new air by my AAA tow-truck driver, and
it was fine just earlier on the day before my talk with Harry Coffee.
So this lets out the possibility of a small or slow leak, or that it
was not done intentionally, and to cause me a major headache and
problem, which it did; and THEY won, and accomplished their rotten
evil demonic goal and mission. Since these folks got so touchy,
whoever they are; Fort Pierce Police, and SL County Sheriff Ken
Mascara sir; let me, as Lenny Briscoe on the 'L&O' television
show, would put it so perfectly; ''really piss them off''. Part of
the story that was not told/blogged, after coming back into my
apartment, was that he was the host of a website chat board, and
observed youngsters treating adults with great disrespect, and down
right rude and even vulgar verbal treatment; saying things, and
without my flowering up the bad language, along the lines of; if you
cannot work the internet, or do such and such; then you don't belong
here. Also things like, old farts don't belong in our territory, we
started it and now you want to come in and take over. This of course
is utter nonsense, and we only want our rightful place in a system
that forces us to either get hip, or die practically. We did not all
want or ask for this. They are correct on that much of it. But to
tell us that we cannot buy or sell and literally fulfill a scriptural
prophecy of thousands of freaking years ago; WOW, Sally and Billy,
now THAT'S SAYIN' SOMETHING, BRO! Any-ha, Mister Coffee told them to
stop behaving like that, and when people need some help, treating
them so badly is wicked and wrong. Those that would not stop doing
it, and he told me it was a majority of the extra young crowd; were
evicted from usage of the site with high-tech sanctioning. This made
me temporarily feel great, as I beam with delight when justice is
done. Hay, you don't have to help, meanies, but we are not your
enemies, and you have no right to be so offensive and nasty, when we
are only trying to learn, as we must, just to live in this world.
Also, dream on kiddies, you did not invent this thing. I know many
secrets, and this may or may not be amongst the major ones, but get a
life my friends, as there is more to life than insulting old people,
and unless you plan on dying while young, guess what pals; you will
also become old, and I hope that some day, you'll enjoy the way your
grandchildren out in the future treat you; with some unfathomable new
thing, when you are too old to make it work the way they can. I did
not invent the truth, and part of the truth is ''what goes around
comes back around. Life is a wheel, and ''that is the truth'', as my
late Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, loved to say so often in the late
nineteen sixties. For the maybe half or so of the nice younger crowd
who won't help, since this would evict them from the youth-click; but
at least don't act as though we are their enemy, when we have lives,
and have no time to even be concerned with them let alone spend time
trying to be their enemy; but yes, for those that are at least not
the real meanies of the bunch; then my harsh words are not intended
for you. Still, taking this entire thing a bit further, involving my
vehicle vandalism, I dared to talk about the ''NICK
CLUB'', if you may recall, and if you do not, it is right
there at both WORDPRESS as well as
BLOGGER, where I post up my blogs, and
have for seven years. Those of any age, any belief system, any color
from polka dot to stripes, any national origin, religious faith,
etcetera and etcetera; have the right to be free, and try to find
some happiness in this nightmare rotten life. Concentrically, NO ONE
has the right to mess with peeps, and make them miserable, hack into
their lives, their computers, make them miserable secretly and
covertly; and whatever. We all bleed red, we all have feelings, and I
personally am not one bit shy to tell this world that if I was the
ruler or owner, anyone who did not respect the rights of others,
would be imprisoned a place so horrible that they could not last more
than a few years in it alive. You do not have the right to hurt
people just because you enjoy doing it, and if you persist in that,
you should be strung up, and slowly and agonizingly hung. We're all
just struggling along and trying to find our way in this miserable
reality. It is far from a perfect world, so why make it worse?
MORIANITY-4
TWO
DAYS OF DEATHSIEGE AND BOTBAR NIGHTMARE HELL
IT
IS 3:23 PM-EST, 02/16/2013, AND NOT ROOM NUMBER, AT THE ATLANTIC
CITY, FORMERLY TRINITY HOTEL, ON 10-SC, NON CALL LONG DISTANCE OR
SARAH MISERABLE CALL-IO AVENUE. THIS IS A FUCKING SUPER BAD ENEMY
STRIKE SATURDAY, ALL DAY, ALL MORNING AND ALL DAY, HUGE HORRIBLE
MONSTER ASS FUCKING CUNT CHEMTRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE SKIES OF
SAINT LUCIE COUNTY OF FLORIDA,
USA-ES-MWG, AND THE MILITUFORCE
OTAMM-SCUM, AKA THE IF, OR 'INTERACTION-FORCE',
IS REALLY DOING ITS FUCKING VALERIE BERTRINELLI THING, OVER THE PAST
TWO DAYS, WITH PROPERTY DAMAGE, AND NOW HEAVY
SKY PERSECUTION AND PUMMELING, AND OTHER SHIT ALL AROUND ME; THAT
WHEN IT IS HAPPENING, I KNOW IT IS ALL TOTALLY PART OF THEIR FUCKING
ASS WICKED DEMONIC SATANIC EVIL ROTTEN DEATH SIEGE AGAINST ME. WHERE
ARE YOU SHERIFF KEN MASCARA,
AND FLORIDA STATE POLICE, AND LOCAL POLICE IN FORT PIERCE, YO? THIS
IS REAL BAD, AND IF I AM FOUND DEAD
IN HERE, I HAVE BEEN MOTHER
FUCKING MURDERED BY ALL THE
ENEMIES OF THE MC-IF CREW AND COMPANY, AND STAR FAMILY!!!!!!!! THIS
IS NO JOKE, PEOPLE, SO LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, AND GIVE ME A LITTLE HEAD
START UP THOSE WICKED HORRIBLE STAIRS, YO, MO, WOMO; WO!!!!
DEAR
NON-BEAVER-CLEAVER QUICK DIARY:
I
DID NOT GET UP AND HAVE A NICE
NORMAL ORDINARY
DAY, NOT TODAY, NOT YESTERDAY; FOR THAT MATTER, NOT FOR THE PAST
FUCKING 582 DECIANNUMS, AKA 58.2 YEARS OF MY WAKING SO-CALLED ''HUMAN
LIFE'' AS MARK WAYNE FUCKING DISASTER HUNTINGTON
CURSED MOHR!
MIKE
GOT OVER HERE AROUND NOON, AND I THEN CALLED MY
TRIPLE-A AUTO CLUB. THEY GOT HERE 90
MINUTES LATER, AND FILLED UP MY TIRE, AND NOTHING IS WRONG WITH IT,
FORT PIERCE POLICE.
SOME FUCKING JERK OFF
LET ALL THE FUCKING AIR OUT OF IT.
IT IS EASY. YOU COME AROUND AT 3 AM, AND SNEAK INTO THE PARKING LOT,
COVER YOURSELF WITH A BLANKET, TAKE A LITTLE ITEM WITH A TINY PIN
PRICK END SIDE TO IT, STICK IT INTO A TIRE VALVESTEM, AND PSHHHH; I
GET A FUCKING FLAT TIRE, SHERIFF
MASCARA; DON'T YOU CARE, SIR? DOESN'T ANYONE CARE THAT THESE MONSTER
BOTTOM FEEDING PIGS AND SWINE, ARE VIOLATING MY LIFE, BREAKING THE
LAW, & DESTROYING MY CIVIL LIBERTIES? THEY ALL READY WON'T LET
ME EVER DO ANYTHING WITH MY MUSIC, AND I KNOW I CAN WRITE GOOD SHIT.
LOTS OF FUCKING JERK OFFS ARE JUST PLAIN JEALOUS AND HAVE BEEN NOW
FOR FORTY FUCKING YEARS. I KNOW IT, DAVE ROTH KNEW IT, AND HOPEFULLY;
SHERIFF MASCARA OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY,
SIR; YOU NOW KNOW THIS. IF YOU WERE TO
GO UP TO THE 'YOUTUBE', AND TYPE INTO THE SEARCH BOX,
''paulaking2011'',
YOU WOULD HEAR A LOT OF SHIT THAT IS GOOD. LOTS OF IT IS JUST ME
CLOWNING AROUND, BUT YOU KNOW THAT I CAN INDEED WRITE GOOD MUSIC; AND
EVEN MY FUCKING KID KNOWS IT, WHETHER SHE'LL ADMIT IT OR NOT
DIRECTLY; BUT IN 1997; SHE ADMITTED
IT THROUGH THE BACK DOOR, AS TONY
FUCKING BONJOVI HEARD THE SIMILARITY INSTANTLY, AT HIS
AVALON RECORDING STUDIO, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO!
YOU
ALL NEED TO GO UP TO GOOGLE SEARCH, AND YOUTUBE, AND TYPE IN
''CHEMTRAILS'', AND ALSO MY SONG, ON YOUTUBE CALLED, ''CHEMTRAILS
OF 1987'', YO. ALSO, IF YOU HAVE A VIDEO CAMERA; COME OVER
RIGHT NOW. IT IS 3:38 PM-EST, SO COME TO MY TOWN, HERE AT FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, AND FILM AWAY; AS THESE MONSTER
ASS TRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND THEY CAME RIGHT OVER
ME, AND PERSECUTED ME, PERSONALLY; AND YOU WILL NOT FIND ONE OTHER
CHEMTRAIL VIDEO OR WEB FUCKING SITE,
WHERE ANYONE CAN CLAIM THAT 'THEY' FOLLOW AND STALK THEM; AND MAKE IT
SUPER PERSONAL, AS THEY HAVE BEEN DOING TO, AND WITH ME, SINCE 1987;
AT THE AMERICAN HONDA PLANT ON GAITHER ROAD,
IN MOUNT LAUREL, NEW JERSEY, IN LATE DECEMBER OF 1987,
AND INTO THE FIRST TWO MONTHS OF 1988,
PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!
THERE
WILL BE INCREDIBLE STORMS, EARTHQUAKES, AND DISASTERS, AND AIR
CRASHES; ALL OVER THE WORLD FOR WHAT IS FUCKING BEING DONE TO ME; SO
WATCH THE FUCK OUT; YOU EVIL MILI-2-FORCE
SCUM SUCKING SNAKE CUM CHEWERS!!!!!!!!!!! You all will die horrible
inconceivable unfathomable monster ass deaths, sooner or later, so be
warned, you cunt lappers; and all within the restrictions of the
legal system, as no one has of yet even attempted to fucking
legislate my using my power and knowledge, on my wicked evil rotten
filthy twisted sicko enemies from HELL!!!
MMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCCCCCCC:
OPEN
COMMAND G-7.
ALL
GENERAL AND CODED GENERAL ORDERS, USING BOTH AD & ZD
TECHNOLOGIES, I AM MAXING OUT ALL OF YOUR PULL POWER GAIN CONTROLS,
AND ALL CONTROLS AGAINST THAT GAIN, 11.8 IPNS AND 11.5 IPNS
RESPECTIVELY. USE ALL ORDERS AND TECHS, USE A PHASED A/B TONE
PUNISHMENT SYSTEM, AS FOLLOWS, WITH A TOTALLY CRUSHED AND SINGED AND
FULLY DESTROYED IMAGE-OBJECT (I-O) ON YOUR TRANSPOWER
BLOCK, SWITCHING YOUR DESIRE KEY NOW, FROM THE NN-J
POSITION, TO THE OPERATIONAL POSITION-I.
COMPUTER, ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW, INSIDE
MY MIND AS THE LONG-EEE SOUND.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-A-TONE.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-B-TONE.
G-901,
G-1133, G-917, G-189, CG-39, CG2, CG5555, UNDER G-719, CG-18, AND
STOP.
'MORIANITY-4'
IF
I SUFFER ANOTHER NERVOUS
BREAKDOWN, I WILL SUE THE PHA IN A COURT
OF LAW.
(THE
MAGICAL MOVE IN HYPERSPACE OF 2008)
Almost
every single day, these dirt bag nabes across the hall play games
with me by turning on that sub box for a few seconds, and then it
goes off. Also, there is a very mysterious white vehicle, with all
blacked out windows, outside of my window, and down in the parking
lot, across Avenue B. The skies and other stuff is quiet so far, but
that can always change on a dime. I know when persecution is around
me before actual events begin, from so many years of being
inside of this nightmare hellish experience. You either become
ultra hyper sensitive, or you become dead. It was pretty dead around
here yesterday, after I exposed the game and the bullshit about this
computer fucking shit, how these enemies are one of the security
personnel, how Debbie the Office Manager seems to be playing this
game with me, along with all of the rest; and I am going to see
Doctor Jack about suing the PHA, for harassing an already mentally
disturbed person; for fifty million dollars. My appointment with him
will be next week, up at the Orange Avenue and Twenty-Fifth Street
location. Something mother fucking tells me that I'll be leaving here
for Mexico within 60 days or less, and not looking back ever, ever,
ever, ever; unless this law suit commences, and I can get what is
being done to me, one cannon shot after another; stopped, and
compensation made to me, for all of this unspeakable crime over a
long period of time. If the PHA wants to sue others, that they may
have gotten involved with as a direct result, then that's on them,
BRAH.
As
for right now, here are the great six chapters of 2008, speaking of
what started a lot of this present hell, and making it evolve into
something this monstrously horrendous, and wicked. The off period
in-between, speaks for itself. I give the three chapters of February,
and then the three chapters of May. So what really was going on in
March and April, and all throughout this strange down time? Where's
my seventeen thousand dollars, little Sally Starr? Where is Colony
Quna, Copyrighted barriers of permission in 1994? Where did Paula
come from, and where did she go back to, in 1996; Sam the Maintenance
Man of the Highview Apartments
of WILL-I AM-ST-OP-RAH-OWN, New Jersey,
and was your son the Policeman, just ''Another-Son-Of-Sam''? The
questions as well as the possibilities
to all of this mother fucking monster ass hellishness, and dogshit;
are just what Elizabeth Montgomery said that they are, to her husband
Darren; back in the late sixties or early seventies somewhere;
''ENDLESS''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maybe the downtime between February and May of 2008 was spent on
Colony Quna, right Donna Summer, old friend? What a hero old
shoelaces Bruce was, that day on Pacific Avenue, in Atlantic City, in
1980. Oh well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, girl! How's
that go, Copyright Office of the early eighties? In any event, read
on please.
MORIANITY-4
WORST
COCK SUCKING BOTBAR DAY OF TWENTY ASS FRIKKIN THIRTEEN
Mikey
came over, and it was a total mother fucking cunt chewing DISASTER.
Tomorrow, I'll call my fucking Triple-A Auto Club; as that is all I
can do. The Fix-a-flat shit did not work. It always was easy so many
times before, you just shake the bottle and put the nozzle into the
tire stem and screw clockwise until tight, only they sold me a
defective can, or else the tire has been totally fucked up, I don't
know which, but I do know that it was messed with, and I am making a
mother fucking police report tomorrow on
the incident as fucking well. Every jerk off and their Aunt Sibily
were outside, many others were repairing their broken down vehicles,
which is against lease rules, all I tried to do was quickly get a
glue-air solution into a tire so I then could drive it to a local
station, pay a dollar and buy what used to be free air and fill my
tire back to its normal capacity of about 35 or so pounds PSI. This
place flash-mobbed up on me, planes swooped all around, it was beyond
a fucking nightmare. Trashy scum were all over me like rats in a
mountain of fucking pig shit. There is a lady who takes advantage of
the poor bastard, and she called demanding more money, she makes me
sick. Her name should be Harbor, but it isn't, it is Pearl. Mikey
does not know how to say know to this pile of solid waste material. I
hate peeps who take advantage of the frail and the innocent, they
should be lined up and shot, very slowly, over and over in the arms
and legs, and just bleed the fuck out and croak. Giant sluts are on a
roll, many trashy peeps are crawling out of the mother fucking cunt
woodwork, the entire thing that I thought would go relatively
smoothly, was a total fucking fiasco catastrophe nightmare disaster
times ten to the tenth fucking power. I wasted seven and a half
dollars on a fucked up can of fix-a-flat garbage, and I still have a
fucking cunt pancake flat ass god dam mother fucking tire! Triple-A
will put air in it tomorrow, or else; and if it needs more than that,
I still have half of the can left, if it still works and the Triple-A
guy knows how to work it, as Mikey and I were out in that parking lot
looking like a couple of mother fucking jack ass cock sucking total
fools. I know this was done to me, and I know who loves TO FUCK WITH
TIRES AND RIMS AND MESS WITH CARS AND RUBBERS. Naturally, he himself
did not do it, but he made a NICK CLUB phone call to one of his
millions of little bopper teeny fans, and someone local in Fort
Pierce, came around late at night and stuck a fingernail or a tiny
device, right onto the valve stem where if you push it, air releases
out of the tire. I knew that I wasn't having all these god dam mother
fucking nightmares for no reason. Now
despite all of this fucking shit, my systems roulette was able to win
three units profit on this beyond twisted diseased dirt bag
horrendous and monster ass fucking day. I would have won
two more, but lots of green house-vig numbers struck me, and dug into
the take. Still, to win three units on a day this horrible, has odds
of astronomical possibility to work in my favor. Despite this hell, I
plan to watch the final MENTALIST on TV as soon as I post this blog
up, and enjoy some grub, and a bowl of fucking Publix Mint Chocolate
Chip Ice Cream, as I purchased eight of them a few days back on a
BOGO SALE, buying 8 for the price of 4,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Now if this tire cannot be fixed
without spending much more than the seven and a half that I spent so
far, I am going to be really fucking hurting. I may have to ask my
State Farm Insurance, to let me do that same thing that I did a while
back, just one more time; and explain that my final car payment, the
72nd one, will be made on the fourth, and then no more car
payment. We'll see what mother fucking manifests itself into my
reality when tomorrow swings around in the STM illusion, folks, YO!
The future is technically no more than the present with a longer
past. Don't try to really wrap your heads around that, or you'll fuck
yourselves all up, and be a fuck head like me; who knows, you might
even grow a Huntington Curse out of nowhere, with Leprechaun maps
that change magically on my blogs every few hours. WOW! You want to
know what pisses me fucking off more than this horrendous and
despicable shit ass day could ever do? SSJKK in a trance, told me
that I may not blog the details of our trance discussion, but she
told me that she is onto the fact that I am attempting to use her to
promote Morianity. I told her that this was no huge secret, as she
used me to promote Christianity. Also, she still owes me a dollar for
that dam cassette tape in 1986. She said that I was blocking it out
on a conscious level, but I think I knew consciously all along that
once I began tying pieces of the island all together back in time,
with the present mid twenty-ohs and the beginning of blogging
Morianity; that I fully intended to show the world that she comes
here over and over again.
GOOD OLD FLORIDA, WOW AM I HAVING FUN
HERE FOR THE PAST 38 MONTHS NOW!!!
The
image may not, but I will reflect and tell a lot. Every time the Dow
Jones stock market is way down, as it was most of the day, they
normally use PROPERTY DAMAGE against me, to get it to rebound back up
again, and anyone who has been following these blogs for anywhere
near the entire 7 years of their existence, called, MORIANITY, knows
that this is the total truth. Sure enough, it went up by five points
by the closing bell at 4 of the clock, on this SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR
DAY for me. They CHEATED, and manipulated the price up by destroying
one of my rear automobile fucking tires. Real big heroes, man, must
feel about twelve foot four inches tall, picking on a defenseless
little special edder all these years, BIG ASS FUCKING HEROES, YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO.
Well,
we all have heard about changing with the weather, so come up and
visit this blog from time to time, and watch the great leprechauns do
their magic, and change this map, via internet electronic magic, AKA
21st century technology, AHA AHA AHA MISTER MIKE
MCNULTY!!!!!OH WOW RH.
Well ladies and
gentlemen, I will have some ice cream and watch “THE MENTALIST”
on TV until I call Mikey tonight, as he is expecting my phone call
tonight any-ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Watch out folks,
this world just might blow up before all that long, if this shit does
not fucking stop!
MORIANITY-4
DEAR
FORT PIERCE POLICE AUTHORITIES:
SOMEBODY
FLATTENED MY TIRE. I will know more when my pal from the
island, Mikey, gets here tomorrow to help get me to where I'll need
to go to see what is wrong, hopefully a cheap rubber plug will repair
the problem. Otherwise, I am being fucked with again, as they keep
taking my little money away, over and over. This has been cunt
lapping mother fucking happening to me since forever.
MAGNESONIC,
SCAN WHOEVER DAMAGED MY PROPERTY. THEY WILL BE TOTALLY OBLITERATED
UNDER PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM. CREATE AN I-O AND CRUSH AND SINGE
IT INTO RUINATION AND PLACE IT ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK. USE BOTH AD
AND ZD TECHNOLOGIES. MAX OUT ALL YOUR PULL POWER GAIN TO 11.8 IPNS
AND YOUR CONTROLS AGAINST THE GAIN AT MAXIMUM 11.5 IPNS. USE ALL
GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS. G-7 OPEN COMMAND, YOU WILL HEAR THE
DOUBLE TONES INSIDE MY MIND MAKING THE SOUND OF STRAIGHT LETTER 'E'.
I NOW AM SWITCHING YOUR DESIRE KEY FROM THE NORMAL NEUTRAL POSITION
OF 'J' TO THE POSITION OF 'I'. ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, WHOEVER DAMAGED MY PROPERTY, AND
FLATTENED MY TIRE, AND ALL THOSE THEY LOVE, AND ARE FAMILY OF; ARE TO
BE SCANED FOR A TOTAL OBLITERATION-CRUSH-DESTRUCT. HEAR THE
EMPOWERMENT TONES NOW, INSIDE OF MY SIXTH DIMENSIONAL CONNECTIVENESS.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
COMPLETED. ALL DIRT BAGS ARE DESTROYED NOW. G-901, UNDER G-189,
G-917, UNDER CG-2, CG-18, AND
S---T---O---P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some
son of a bitch will be real fucking sorry for ruining my day and
making it into another mother fucking SUPER BOTBAR. Notice I say
something about the NICK CHANNEL, as this did not just happen, so
what I said about the TNT channel did not cause this retaliatory
strike on me. The security personnel are reviewing parking lot tape
footage now, and will come up and knock on my door later, if they see
anyone touching the tire within the past 48 hours, and then I will
call 911, and get the fucking cops over here. You want war with me
you sick son of a bitch, fine; but you will fucking die slowly in
agony, bleeding out on the dam ghetto streets, as I've got plenty of
my own hoodie friends, and peeps too,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
RED
ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT
RED
ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT
RED
ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT
Somebody
will pay for this, and go to fucking prison, or find themselves
hanging from a tall tree. I need help, Sheriff Mascara, PLEASE!!!!!
TANKS!!!!!
MORIANITY-4
SPEAK
NO EVIL, AND FORGET HOW TO TALK AT ALL
3
MINUTES SHY OF 2 IN THE AFTERNOON, ON FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2013. BT.
I
will not be watching the TNT Network
much longer. They have lost me as a fan.
They have just about totally removed the greatest law show from their
programming schedule. They can do what they want, they own the
network. I can do what I want, publicly complain about my
dissatisfaction, and boycott their junky station from now on. The
only time now this is ever on is at graveyard times such as 4-8 in
the morning on the weekends. SLAM SLAM SLAM, clutch in, gear shift
moving, yes these dirt bags are slamming in and out a lot today,
across the mother fucking hall, the pricks; and I'll be going down to
see Debbie Marotto in a short while to complain about the all night
slamming doors the other day, AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Clutch, gearshift, and back to the mostly removed, greatest law TV
show of all time, the one and only, “Law & Order”.
Hay, it accomplished its main mission, and all the missions below the
main one, IMHO of course, were all mere great entertainment and
similar parts of a side-mission, but those in the real EW-KNOW, know
that I speak the truth. The odds of this show beginning just weeks
after I first met Ron Wirtz, at the Camden County Prosecutor's Office
in Camden, New Jersey, on the fifth day in December, in 1989; plus a
million mathematically impossible to all be coincidences, throughout
this wonderful 22 year running show, sorry; this little tuna fish
just ain't buying into any of this malarkey, maitees, and of course,
Tuna Charlie, as well. Not only will I forever boycott this network,
but I plan to do many other things that pertain to many other things,
that have nothing to do with television shows. My civil rights and
the right to freedom of expression can be arguably taken into a court
room, if I have to represent myself against fifty Manhattan shysters
all against me; I'll still go in with case law, on point decisions,
and insist that my rights have been trampled on. I know what has been
done to me since I started trying to tell my story seven years ago,
and the US Cove Agencies and others married to them in the EW, all
colluded to keep me from ever being heard or seen, on the internet.
They intentionally try and destroy my spirit as well, by putting
songs I posted on Youtube, for one such example, the 2011 song
called, ''Wanna' Spend My time'', up, along a right side column, of
nothing but videos that have between 2 and 16 million hits; making me
intentionally appear ridiculous, and even the clown to be scoffed at,
and ridiculed. Go ahead and think it is all funny, and we will see
what the Attorney General of both the state of Florida, as well as
the US Attorney's Office has to say, as my letters to all of them in
CC, will be mailed next week, from the local library's word
processor/printer system; and the addresses imparted to me by their
reference desk section. I will take just so much abuse, and then I
will start to raise a stink, only because I know I am being
prevented, blocked, sanctioned, and killed; and this violates MY
CIVIL RIGHTS AND UNDER THE USC AMMENDMENT
NUMBER ONE. Our founding fathers thought
that this right was so important, that it was not the ninth one, or
the fourteenth one, or what have you; but no people, it was the
very First Amendment to the US Constitution.
Now why is this all happening to me? It is not complicated. Long
before the PC and the internet all caught on big time, I was under a
major invisible problem with some invisible enemy-force; and it did
not in any way, start in the computer age. whoever owns and controls
this world, and is against me 24-7-365.2422; is going to use any tool
against me that I ever attempt to use to pull myself up by the
bootstraps and tell my pathetic tale of hellish nightmare woe to the
world. They have way too much to lose, to let me successfully ever do
this, and since they own the system, them along with all the bratty
little worker bees in their army crew; none of these planetary
owner/controllers are about to let my story out to the world, any
more than would ever let whatever was really going on years ago, with
the UFO Phenomenon. Those in charge say that they want an ordered
society and openly claim to try and discourage bad things as well as
paranoia. Well that is a lie. They feed people's paranoia by acting
so mysterious about so many things, and never allowing anyone with
huge problems that seem to connect into things going beyond the
normal and natural world order, to ever get any justice, or even any
help or assistance whatsoever, and concentrically; they hurt us, ruin
us, take away our homes, our jobs; and leave us to fend on street
corners, as homeless mother fucking bums, hoping we just die, so they
can bury us, and cover us and all the other shit all up, nice and
neat and tight; once and for all. Well, I am a fighter
and a survivor, and I have been dead
a hundred times, and the grave will not ever hold me, as I AM the
chosen fucking Huntington, and whoever you all are out here, just
know, that you have made yourself a deadly fucking enemy that will
not rest until you are maggots. ET.
MORIANITY-4
'OBTAINING
GREAT AND WILD INFORMATION, DAY'
DEAR
NON-BEAVER-CLEAVER DIARY-JOURNAL, DID NOT GET UP, GO TO SCHOOL, PET
STRAY DOG, COME HOME, AND GO TO SLEEP.
Now
let's get some real wild stuff all out in the open, with the
permission of course, of Mister Ward Cleaver! Don't jive me on the
airplane, June Funnygirl.
Oh
Dave, it is too bad you are no longer around. You really did miss one
hell of a Richie Ryan party, YO. Here is the updated situation for
Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, and his great pal George Reeves
Superman, in or out of movie studio lots of
KALI4NYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chuck
Sakers, if you're out there somewhere, I am no longer up that tree,
bud, and am down here on the Earth, and WOW is Mister Smith's
blackboard starting to compare with that of the late and great Sir
Albert Einstein. Crissake, I'll be first man at the gate to admit
that no one has a perfect handle on truth, falseness, and what life
in this world 'really' is all totally about, YO! I will have to be
careful, Paula King, with this, as I do not want you to get mad at
me, and pull both my daughters away from me forever, but I'll say
this little bit here and now, Lieutenant. There are three huge human
constants, that when put together is absolutely as powerful as the
physics constant of the velocity of the photon. First, everyone
develops some kind of agenda after age 3-30, or they are brain-dead
houseplants. Second, 99.9999% of the persons on this planet hate the
'S' word more than they'll ever admit in public, and no it doesn't
stand for bowl waste or defecating, but the word SHARE.
Third, there is a built in illusion that is intentional. It has to
be, making things all appear in a reverse reality. Reverse the
majority of things in other words, such as the world appearing as
flat, and you get the truth. It will always be a way better than 51%
bet, forever and always, and a true honest 'gamblers' dream'. Now
that this 'S' is out of the way, I'll 'S' the big news with all of
you, and you'll need no nose plugs whatsoever, YO! Let me begin with
my paranoia, and I will be totally honest with my viewers, that the
people that I have been forced to frikkin deal with all of my dam
life, have caused me to be very paranoid, if I care to keep on
breathing; but it is a good thing to have, despite not being 100%
perfect, Mister Bruce Allan Pennock, and MC. But then, since nobody
has that license on their wall, I don't feel all that terrible, YO.
Now
there is a county water boil alert
that I have to live with for three days and nights that began
yesterday morning right around the time I awoke from that first
horrific horrendous monstrous nocturnal interaction of facing prison
time, and running into a weird transdimensional ADA Ron Wirtz from
the CCPO, in New Jersey, only there, he was the District Attorney
here in Saint Lucie County, in Florida. There is always something to
contend with in life, I know that, and I will not take it as a
personal attack, despite many things happening the other day and not
just this, the biggest one being the wild all day sleep that came
over me, with prison at the heart of the experience, over and over
again, old buddy, Salvador!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, I hope
promoting your video on my blogs is not © infringement, I thought I
was doing something helpful and legal, YO! Try making sense out of
this rotten old world, YO. But this is not the only stuff I'm
ignorant about, the law of the land is quite complex, and ignorance
of it is no excuse for breaking it. Still, none of this is making all
that much sense, and I'll come out and admit it outright, as there's
simply no point in denying these truths. But I do know many things
that these powerful fuckers are all clueless about, even the great
kids of America, and their uppity attitude against us old fucks, who
they basically do not like, and think we belong out of 'their owned
internet', and this is a reality, and a truth; that many of us in
older categories, have come to know about in our own clicks now; as
not imagined by us, one little bit. What the brats of the planet
don't understand, is 5th dimensional hyperspace, and why
exactly they are acting the way that they do, and this brat age for
us old fucks does not range from 5-20, but goes up to the high
thirties, and that is in appearance in many cases, as if you can
successfully fake a younger age, you can remain accepted a while
longer. Still, I am going to tell things that will blow some lids off
many fucking things on this blog. First, I am stopping to eat my
din-din now at one AM-EST. OK, I am back, it is 2:18 now, and I have
plenty to tell, but plan to compress a lot of it, and just open up
these topics, for later expansion on all of them, at other times; as
the month continues along towards the 3-Sadness times of B-BALL!
First,
I learned some stuff back on Thursday, as it is now a Friday early
morning on February 15, 2013. In the final forty-eighth of the day or
half hour, I was downstairs with a dude we will call, for anonymity's
sake, Harry Coffee. Mister Coffee worked with Dell Computers some
time ago, and for complex reasons that involve a powerful part of
American and global capitalistic systems in place for some time now,
let us just say he had some major medical issues and got as many
peeps get, royally screwed out of his place in life, wow, can I
relate, in or out of Space-Time-Mind, all future Einstein's out
there, somewhere in negative space. Any-ha, let us move this right
along, shall we? The two peeps across the hallway from me have
nothing to do with him or the security rotation in this building.
They are however, part of the crew, as are many, and we can leave
things real safely, right about there, or else be trapped in 1968 all
over again without a shoebox, or a tap-tab-screen, or compuphone; to
get back to the present. That would take a lot of powerful tranced
meditation to reach this time again, and the illusion of just
reliving it will always be what really happens, all though nothing is
real. The mind will tell you that it is real up to about 25,000
miles, but motion is an illusion as well, and tiny fragmented
quadrillionths of seconds run together in clicks, and the illusion is
created, and if anyone knows what I am talking about because they can
relate to it in their occupation or business in some real personal
ways, it is Hollywood and the general Entertainment World, or the
'EW'. But as for the higher dimensions that exist not all around us,
but that are created through us, at a MIND SOURCE on the sixth
dimension under the realm of Lawtronic Control, where the dream-out
from void infinity is the initial stage of everything; but this is
the simple fact of all truth, even though for right now, I only have
time to touch on two parts of a five dozen part series of subjects,
all connecting into this entire deal; and these would be
homosexuality, and generation gaps. Normal people are wondering at
this point, how these two things could remotely fit into any topic in
a singularity, and my response is, good, keep wondering, as I'll be
telling. As we all move in our real higher beingness from interaction
to interaction in the 'spirit world' or Astral-Plane, we also wear
out as a result, and need to recharge. This is why we fall asleep
from there, and begin dreaming down lower into material tangible
realms of the hyperspace, and the real us is so huge that it needs to
be in five dimensions, as three will not work, and this is why space
has motion as well as near infinite doppelganger parallels or near
and similar as well as not so similar parallel universe
four-dimensional space time worlds. As we move into these many many
sets of dreaming interactions or waking world so-called physical
lives, we are experiencing a human equation as a result of this
dreaming process, but it is not to evolve, or grow, or learn; or any
of the ideas that humankind as of yet in 2013, thinks they've neatly
figured out in their little personal or collective zones of comfort
and contentment. If the linear past behind our present life has a
majority of lives as the opposite gender from a switch over, as
normally, we dream 3-5 lifetimes as one gender, then alternate back
3-5 lifetimes as the other gender, and when it switches, we have a
good chance of having subconscious adjustment problems in our current
switch over first time dream sets. So if we have been males four
times and now are born female, we have a great chance for being
lesbian, and the reverse is true, switching from four times as
females and now are born male, a great chance for being homosexual or
having tendencies towards it, is going to exist as a good
possibility. The entire thing is totally normal, and nobody is sick
or crazy. Still, let us switch over to the other topic, the
generation gap. As we dream a series of dreams or have a lifetime
here in hyperspace, we tend to leave small breadcrumbs and trails
behind. As parts of this energetic dream fabric leaves us, we dream
we are a day older and it is the next day, and this process goes on
unless we are killed or die in an accident, until the end of our
energy, merges with a point in the STM, where it wakes us up from
the dreaming; and we awaken where we are at a more true part of our
higher selves, on the Astral Plane. But as with the sexual
orientations as a result of past dream-sets (lifetimes), these
exiting energies propel us forward, but simultaneously, many parts of
these energies in their memory equivalents, race back up and try
reentering into newer updated parts of our dream-sets. Now in many
generations since biblical days, where a gap was discussed right in
the bible, so read it and check it out, and see I'm speaking the
truth, for yourselves folks; but for a long long period of time now;
angry kids who once were only seen and not heard, and were treated as
eighth class citizens for the most part; have left parts of this
angry memory energy in past times, and they are racing up into newer
times such as our present. Now we seem to have reached a wild
collective point in history, where an invention has allowed the kids
to rule, and their subconscious past vengeance of repressed
aggression, is inside of them passionately, and now through these new
age times, they can finally act out on this, and they are and have
been doing this, since late in the nineteen-nineties; and I'm
speaking of the personal computer, the internet, and how the young
kids rule for the most part, and do all that they can to discourage
and even interfere with older folks 'invading their territory'; and
this is not some nineties new thing, but is because of a collective
repressed retaliatory energy, consisting of hundreds, and maybe
thousands of years; and this is a very very very dangerous situation,
to say the least, as all adults know; you cannot have kids in control
of something this huge, unless you really do want the end of life as
we all know it on this planet, to really happen; and I'm not kidding,
or exaggerating one small bit here, ladies and freaking
gentlemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I learned tonight, that my query of personal
paranoia verses the real truths behind all of this, is indeed, NOT
PARNOIA at all. This is known well, by the owners of the computer
makers, and the top powerful folks at Google and Microsoft, BUT, BIG
ASS FUCKING BUTT, they still are capitalists, and don't care if the
world blows up in 20-40 years; as a result of this huge impending
looming doomsday, as they still are after the big bucks, and this
won't ever change; and they know that the money, despite the older
people making more of it, is spent more by the younger crowd; so they
will always cater to and be on the side, of 'THEM', these
'dangerous KIDS', and also, I need to add here, that I have come to
advance enough in my thinking, and living through the last ten years
now, and with careful scrutiny of many things that they could not
take away from me and destroy, as they did my original LIFE JOURNAL;
to recognize this for what it seemingly is, and yes, I can be all wet
in the head and wrong; but I don't feel I am wrong, so I'll come out
and say what I feel compelled to say. All though it may have begun
innocently, in the middle eighties somewhere, as a cool new
television channel; now it is the dangerous deadly NICK
CLUB, and I think most who are following my blogs, know
EXACTLY AND PRECISELY WHAT IS TOTALLY GETTING SAID HERE! There are
way too many coincidences for my liking now, since 2006 when this
seemed to start, and the best way to deal with this is not to play
Scarlet O'Hara anymore, and just hit the nail head on; despite
hurricane force winds from the south lands of Tara Karge. I cannot
resist this at all R.H. Macy, sorry; W---O---W.
So sorry Ambassador Terry Harbor, if my eggs are a little underdone
for your taste, and appear to be so scattered over easy, you scramble
brain you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I was wrong
about the nabes, they are not the ones. BUTT, I have learned some
things over the past day that have elevated my illumination about
both computers and life in general, fifty fold. Hurt me all you want
to, all of you monster fucking scum, but you cannot kill me, and you
fucking know it, TEE HEE HEE LILLY. I have not given up, and I am
very close to being able to fight you back with a little more
resources than I have had available to me over the past year since
young snotty Jessica Grant fired me over at the
http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/
and that is the truth, to quote my late Uncle Stuart Huntington
Mason, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Where are you Zvonko-Amtrak-83?
WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!
It
is time for me to crash folks, nighty-nite!!!!!!!!
'MORIANITY-4'
COMING
TO THE END OF A FAMOUS MWM WEIRDAY.
555555555555555555555555555555555
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 that 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 25th 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 Lee 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 is so
vivid, and 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 PEOPLE, 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, as 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!
MORIANITY-4
THIS
IS GOING TO BE A VERY BAD DAY TIMES EXPONENT 9
*****BT*****
I
awoke at 8 AM, out of very horrendous vivid 'nightmares'. Doors and
in and out slams are bad, and they were bad since 12:30 this morning,
illegally slamming after hours, DEBBIE MAROTTO. I will see you in
your frikkin office tomorrow morning. We have a lot to
discuss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is now 10:08 AM-EST, on this messed up but lovely cool overcast
weather-wise, Thursday Mouuuuuuuuuuurning, here in Fort Pierced,
Florida, and may the blood drip down all over my red
shoes. LSS, 25 years ago on this very day, I was having a
SUPER BOTBAR DAY, over at my midnight to
noon security guard job, at the AMERICAN HONDA
PLANT, on Gaither Road, in Mount Laurel, New Jersey. The
United States Copyright Office has this whole mess on fucking cunt
cassette tape. I was there with David Roth, my relief guard; not a
lot different than here at this PH Building, only we weren't
attempting to run any Geraldine Snow Shah con games, or snow jobs on
anybody. We were merely innocent targeted victims, by those with
great power; and as the © Office examiners know quite well, we had
none, and still don't; so what can we ever do to fight this fucking
asshole horrific monster of demonic fucking hell, YO??????????? They
say nothing really changes in this life, and I TOTALLY SUPPORT
THAT MOTHER FUCKING THEORY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
any-ha, in this nocturnal interaction straight from hell, that woke
me up with a slam bang Batman Adam West jolt, that even lowlife
neighbor doors at their worst, would be envious of; I was in Port
Saint Lucie, the next town over to my south, at a shopping center,
not all that far from where the Federal Local
Social Security Office is located, right on Federal Highway,
or Route-1, same diff; and I had three large flags that I had hoisted
up onto three tall flagpoles, bright red, with wild designs, and
backward. Ron Wirtz came along out of nowhere, and he told me that
the authorities in town, want me to be brought to justice, for doing
this; and that I would have to do some jail time. When I asked how
much, he said not a whole lot, but some. I told him that I had no
memory of even putting these flags up. He did not look like the Ron I
knew, and was a much larger and taller man, and a lot younger;
younger than me by as much as ten to fifteen years, whereas here in
this universe, where I'm typing this blog; he was more like closer to
twenty years my senior. As I was speaking to him at this mini-mall
parking lot, he said that I should try coming back late at night, and
take them down, and hope I am not caught by the authorities looking
to prosecute me, in Port Saint Lucie. Now in this parallel universe,
where I'm typing, I do have a judgment filed on me from JC Pennies
for an outstanding debt, and other folks will also be filing against
me soon; as thanks to what happened to me back in New Jersey, with
the Monster King branch of THAT-FAMILY-1970 as I call them or
(TAWF-70); my credit has been totally mother fucking wrecked, ruined,
and is shot to fucking ass hell. Still, you don't go to prison for
owing money when you legitimately are broke, and cannot repay; and
am saving dribbles and drabs, towards another personal full Chapter
Seven Bankruptcy, like the one I declared back in the year 2004, on
that horrible day of flashmob
super-sluts, and gangs of enemy kids, surrounding me everywhere I
tried to go. As with that day, today, and many other days; I would
not set foot outside of my apartment, not for all the fucking free
love in the whorehouse. I remember my twenty-fifth anniversary of
this horrible fucking hellish day, back in 1988, at the American
Honda Plant, all too cunt eating well; ladies and freaking
gentlemen, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!
It
will be an interesting challenge later, to see if I can win any units
with my hypothetical systems-roulette play, and maybe, just fucking
cunt lapping MAYBE, I'll decide to blow some minds, and tell
about this system. Used by regular normal folks, that are
not under some monster fucking ass Huntington-Curse, this could
theoretically just about shut down the fucking casino game of
roulette, and their biggest fucking money-maker.
You won't like me when I'm angry either, Doctor David fucking Bixby
Banner, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know a lot of peeps don't know this
fact of Hollywood gossip, but when that Hulk-Dude, who I envy so
much, not because of his big muscles, but because he cannot be
persecuted with SOUND like I can, as he barely can hear; but did
you know that he really did flip over that automobile in that pilot
episode show, where the first DeGama radiation hit him, and his first
change-morph, occurred out beyond his laboratory? This was wired up
to flip over, but the system broke, and he was so pissed off out in
the rain and had been shooting all day long on the set; and he did it
all himself, out of anger. This is what I am talking about with many
things in Morianity. Here we have a fictional television show, about
a man who when he gets angry, becomes this hulk character. Then on
the very pilot episode, a real life circumstance presents
itself that matches the theme of the show.
You can fact check this with any good reliable Hollywood source.
There is powerful magic in Hollywood, especially back when things
were done with analogue
recording. Things do tend
to come to pass in strange ways, if certain things are recorded and
re-recorded, and played back, on analogue apparatus. When they found
all this out through ''ME'', in the seventies and early into the
eighties, this is why they began altering, and turned this entire
deal into a digital-world. When I
say I've changed this timeline, it is not exaggeration, but an
under-exaggeration if anything; and that's merely one example. There
are a good dozen more of them, I assure and promise you all of
'THAT', fiends and friends, and Sir Roddenberry
Rockdroid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
for the study of the OFF-GRID time of 2008, and the way something
must have gone down during this period, as my blogs, just
as SSJKK said to me in a deep trance a few weeks ago,
maybe a month now; reflect a whole different theme, pre off-grid
time, and post off-grid time. I have made a copy blog not yet posted,
where I have altered the printing to a different color, at powerful
critical key places, that indeed show me what the great SSJKK was
referring to; and I feel I'm only starting to really get the whole
picture, as something must have happened; similarly to Paula
visiting me in early summer time in 1996,
at Highview Apartments, and all the
times on Tennessee Avenue, when I have
no memory of stuff, like CALLIO giving me her name over Bob
McGuire's bar telephone, on February seventh, in 1997; and nearly a
decade later in my car, with Edward Himacane Lynch; where our
video-cam, picked up what we have no memory at all of ever happening.
So don't tell me that this 'family' is not from far beyond the stars,
and realities, of this cosmic egg, folks; as I fucking know totally
better, BRAH!
After
that horrible incident of thinking that I AM going to have to go to
jail, I physically woke up feeling as though I had been struck
down by a cunt chewing freight train.
By the way, some of the forgotten names on the list of those who
promised they would help me on the computer, besides what I listed
earlier, would be Kelly, Sigmund, and Rick. I will bet one million
fucking mega-dollars US, that Ryan will let me down as well this
year; as he already let me down with that horrible mickey mouse voice
that he told me I would like, but then; I know this was an entirely
shifted hyperspace move, and once you have experienced your share of
these fucking Incollingo Chocolate Cupcake incidents and accidents;
'you know what you know', and nobody will ever talk you out of it,
because simply re-stated, YOU
KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I knew I shoulda' stood my ground, in or out of freaking Florida,
back in the summer of 1980 with dirt-bag Lenny McKinnon, and said
I'll bet you a million dollars that you will never help me become a
paid songwriter. Even Paul Pedersen, got my shit played around the
world, and that is quite an experience to tell my great grand
children all about someday. For right now, my attitude is like
General George Patton's. It's simple and it's short and dirty, and
gets the point across; as neither one of us are, or were; looking to
win any fucking popularity contests. 'FUCK THE WORLD, BABY'! I have
my own huge set of monster ass problems, peeps; so that's that!
WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!
***ET.***
MORIANITY-4
CHRIS
BENNETT, EDWARD LYNCH, AND LIFE JOURNALS
When
I was fired from Griffin Pipe Company at
their Florence Township, New Jersey plant, by jerk off dick head
nasty ass mother fucker Jimmy Stone, it
was not that further along where I was employed on weekends at a
totally different job, and back on my social Security Disability, as
I went off of it a short while while attempting to hold a full time
position at Assets Protection in Pennsylvania, and suffered a major
psychotic breakdown after horrendous 'MILITUFORCE'
continual harassment and persecution. If this was a fair world, I
would be a mother fucking billionaire, and they would all be sued for
every cunt lapping fucking penny that they are worth. But it is not a
fucking fair world, not one cunt lapping little tiny bitching bit.
This phony loving father god of the bible is nothing but a horrible
hoax, this planet has been invaded by monstrous fucking evil that can
be equated with old world terms and words and just say SATAN is
everywhere, as it really makes no difference how the words jumble up
all together. It's what's being said, right Billy and Sally
Pickpocketers? This entire rotten sick world can go do things that
even my fowl ass language would have limits on detailing.
I
will say to the President of my country, that I enjoyed his address
tonight, and thought that this was the very best Presidential Speech
I have heard since before the Reagan days. Keep up the good work, my
friend, and watch out for the you know who's, despite the not always
truth telling internet. If it is true, sir, I hope you were able to
come out of all of this unscathed in all aspects, as it left me quite
damaged, far beyond any repair; but if one of us got out and is ok,
well, that is better than the old goose egg number, and by the way, I
believe in you, and if anyone can fix things for the little frail
weak folks like myself, I know it is you, so you know I am for you
100%, sir! I am just very angry at the billionaire scum bags of the
WOMO for all the evil crap that they've perpetrated on me for so many
years now, and if anyone knows this is all true Mister President, it
is you, sir.
Ladies
and gentlemen of the internet who read Morianity and laugh and scoff
at the crazy retard, MWM, or me; whassup, YO? I know this story is
all hard to buy into, but I also know I am telling the dam truth, and
I don't hate disbelievers, I cry for them, and for myself, because
this world is doomed, maybe not for many years, but really, what is
the fucking cunt diff, YO? The joke is on me for I know that this all
is not real, I don't believe or theorize this, I know it. I know I'm
in VOID, and dreaming out and away from it, in this fucking royal
experience of TOTAL HELL! Still, I managed to make 4 units on my
systems roulette play earlier back last night. It is now Wednesday
morning, the thirteenth of February, 2013. If anyone ever told me or
anyone else who is my mother fucking age, back in the cock sucking
nineteen sixties; that these personal computers and this internet
bullshit, would be here up in this messed up screwy ass fucking
future; I would have laughed you out of a face. LSS, it is here, so
is my choking gland condition that nobody can ever diagnose, so are
lots of things, ranging from hypothetical daughters given to me by
not so hypothetical mothers, and two folks who I met, one young and
one old, or a more PC way of putting this would be, 'not so young',
wow we live in a world of shit, walking on endless eggshells,
worrying at each little fucking turn if we're gonna' offend somebody
by smiling at them, or not smiling at them, by holding a door for
them, or not holding it, and you all can just go on loving this life
'till; doomsday, but if you ever started really smelling your fucking
morning coffee, blond or brunet, whaaaaaa; you'd quickly come to see
and realize, that this is fucking HELL, and I don't care how much
money you have, or how great a lover, or whatever. My life is total
shit and hell, but you know peeps, I can tell you that if I had the
entire world tomorrow, it would not make me one bit happier, merely
allowing me to suffer endless misery in more luxurious surroundings,
and get a lot of jerk off creditors off of my back, and that would be
the dam ass extent of things, YO.
When
you have had the experiences that I have had, you could be handed
anything after that, and you would still be totally fucking
miserable. I have not been the same since early June in 1980, not
really, not after having Goddess Scylla sing that tune called, ''Love
Is for Carpenters'', to me in my ''sleep''. But if shit had all
stopped there with 1969 and then 10 and a half years later with this;
that would have been enough to blow anybody from here to Planet
Whack, but that was just the opening of a 33 year long and counting,
movie; with or without any whispering names, whispering ghosts,
whispering cats, goddesses, and mysterious Doctor Doogie Howser
technicians, Watergate Jacobson's, Estelle Bassler's, and more
recently; Christopher Bennett's and Edward Lynch's. I cannot resist
it here Mister Macy, sorry old buddy; like
fucking W-------O-------W! This doesn't
even start telling how many times I have crossed over, back and
forth, using your idea of linear time, afterlife existences, and
other such hocus Frisbee pocus stuff from Serling's great twilight
zone.
Yes,
All Mighty Teen Queen, I did what you wanted, and am all ready seeing
some major stuff. I will shoot up a mind bending blog that will
include the last three and the first three chapters, of both February
2008 as well as May of 2008. I think I see what you wanted me to see,
and please don't make your wonderful mysterious pipe friend endlessly
beat me at Rock-Paper-Siccors, not even at the speed of light, or the
speed of light squared. There is a big difference between 186,000 MPS
and 34 billion miles per second, but there is no difference at all
about the constant reality, just as he can constantly beat anyone at
games, after-all, he is the games-expert, but then you are the great
Scylla Goddess. Yes Tom Glenn, do you remember that day you came
over, and we had fun recording that shit? The entire US © Office has
a copy of it. I don't know why I felt so compelled to send them that,
but I do know that it all is part of SPACE-TIME-MIND, and understood
or not, is the answer to all queries indeed. For more exact answers,
we use the Gawky Gaukauk Numerological systems however, and say hello
to your friends at the NFL. Hope you've been well all these years,
while I've been here in HELL. My entire story, long before this tiny
speck of 7+ years of internet blogging, was on twelve thousand or so
cassette tapes. This was all cleverly taken away from me, by a
mysterious ''IMP'' AKA a very ancient and mythological character, me'
laddies; that we can just call, for right now; and borrow the lingo
from old now most likely deceased Philly DJ folks, 'Mindless Tape
Recorder'. It is so incredible that the three dozen persons on this
planet who fear me, know what I know, and believe me. Everyone else
will just say, oh yeah, good old asshole Mountainpen, is he for
fucking real/e, Tommy? Hay tatatatatatatatatata-Tom, do you have no
shame or guilt, you rotten dirty bastard? How much of that material
gain were you given, to fucking screw me all up, Mister
Property-Rich? Yes, Chris Bennett told me to blog, Ed Lynch showed me
how to do it better, but who was around when everything went right
smack dab into the fucking shit fan, BRO? At first, I thought I was
better off for having Jimmy Stone fire me on September 1, 2004. Now I
can see that he was a SENDBACK POPUP, right robber thief
VH-1???????????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Time
for me to crash and burn, folks, wait a fucking minute, I crashed and
burned up a hell of a long eternity ago. What am I saying? Ani-ha it
is 2:22 now, this MOANIN' MOUUUUURNING, and time for me to go to bed.
Sorry if I have not lived up to some god dam mother fucking
expectations of someone or something out here. I did the best I
could, so get an old phone book from the early seventies and look up
Pennock, 2 Beaver Drive, Barrington, New Jersey, and talk to BRUCE.
He'll give anyone interested the lowdown on how I am not perfect,
only human, just like all of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry if that disappoints anyone. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! No one will
ever show me how to do anything, I try to post shit, it all fucks up,
I post a photo of a lovely waterway in the daytime, and now it is
magically and 'leprechaunically' changed into a night traffic shot,
well, the magic leprechauns are part 'ODF' (OF) some complex internet
hyperlink attachment systems, but to me, it is all magic, because
Patty Jane won't reveal to me, how the great parlor tricks are done;
or show me a fucking dam ass thing; nor will any of his fucking
associates and colleagues in the world of 'all-of-us-interconnected'.
And then you tell me I have not died and gone into fucking HELL.
Yeah, then how come I know that I've died and been killed a hundred
times, and keep coming back as though what took me out was just a
dream, hay man, it can't be a dream forever, YO? This is my endless
fucking 'HUNTINGTON HELL', huh Aunt Ruth
of Babylon, so say fucking hi to the Firefox Pharaoh for me,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.
TOLD
YOU GINA, DOW OVER 14K, AND IT WILL BE UP 1000 POINTS THIS WEEK, AND
EVERY WEEK NOW FOR A YEAR.
MORIANITY-4
WOULDA
COULDA SHOULDA IFS, AND THE REAL 'IF' BEHIND IT:
It
is three minutes past two on a Tuesday afternoon, ladies and
gentlemen. The date is February 12, in
2013 AD. These are the blogs of MORIANITY. They began when I resided
in Hammonton, New Jersey in early 2006, and now just more than 7
years later, they have been ongoing for just over three years here in
Fort Pierce, Florida, with or without my wonderful pal Jimmy Carter's
Peanut Farm, or the nearby Peanut Island to the south of me by less
than a hundred miles or somewhere thereabout. Most
of my monthly errands have been all completed, with only getting my
taxes done at the library, and making a few telephone calls, left on
the agenda to take care of.
II\\\/|/|//\|//\//|///\\|//|\\II|/I|
Goddess
All Mighty and Christmas Tree Angels, all aside and notwithstanding,
or left standing, Judge Wilinski, and eccentric artists on strange
islands; I would like to ask you just what you were running away
from, Howard Solomon, Lenny McKinnon, and others from the early
nineteen-eighties, as I seemed to have followed suit, yet am the only
one aware of it on some conscious level, or subconscious Coolie Hall
Level, back in 1972 somewhere; am I right beautiful awesome goddess
Sarah Jacobson? Here's a 'woulda/coulda/shoulda', if ever there was
one, Ida told that lovely goddess to stay with me forever and never
ever leave me, if I could do that one ''all over again'', but this
just leads me to the ten years before the incident recently discussed
where the IF (Interaction Force) MIND-HACKED me or did a ''Tennessee
Avenue'' on me, would be an alternate way of describing this; AS I
WAS ALL SET TO TELL ABOUT A MAJOR POWERFUL DREAMING INTERACTION, and
poof, right out of my mind it all went.
Here
is what I wanted to tell you, and some may know or remember this
incident, that occurred while I fell asleep a short while, in a room
filled with 'MIND', machine mind; but still MIND, a huge mainframe
computer room, while a place was being constructed, a large office
building on Atrium Way, just off of Route 73, where I had lived on,
just one residence prior to my then Mullica Mobile Manor; owned by
the great Mizz Drinkwhale Plageman, AKA pretty but nasty 'Jenny'.
It
was Easter Sunday of 2001, Sunday the fifteenth of April, a date I'll
never ever forget, just as with the one before that one, Mister
President Roosevelt sir, Pearl Harbor Day in 1996, or the seventh of
December, at precisely five in the morning.
I
had fallen asleep all alone in the middle of a bunch of huge
mainframe computers, that were all going to be linked up to many
individual office cubicles on the next week, after the holiday. I was
on a very comfortable chair with a high back, and was tired, and
ended up before I knew it; no longer being aware or conscious, to
this waking world here. I was now exploring the vast fifth
dimensional hyperspace, or ''dreaming'', as you might put it. This is
when I found this other doppelganger me at a huge beyond a human
mortal ability to even start describing this place, but a gigantic
cliff just outside a huge cavern that went down for miles and had
underground rivers and huge areas of clearings that were all
brilliantly lit up with light chains, or a series of some strange
naturally growing phosphorescent biological F&F or other stuff,
that acted as reflective mirrors along a pathway of endless laser
tunnels. Only this was a cool light, and magnified infinitely, never
got hot, and did not burn; but merely glowed bright and colorfully.
When I had come out of that cave, I stood at the cliff that
overlooked a huge beach like no beach on this planet. I was a surfer
there, and had my board laid against a large stone. A strong wind was
blowing, yet this light surfboard remained in perfect place, and did
not blow away and down off the cliffs onto the beaches half a mile
below me and a good two miles wide, leading to an ocean of water with
500 foot slowly moving perfect waves in perfect sets. Suddenly
Lightnings very best friend approached me, and I did not know who she
was at this part of things, and she laughed when she saw me try and
pick up my board and begin to walk away from this park and back
towards a long winding road leading into an area of blocks and blocks
of small structures and businesses, and eventually to a place on the
left side of this road, called, 'Murray's Soda Shop', a duplication
of an American nineteen-fifties soda shop, right down to the last
detail.
DIANA,
my 'LIGHTNING GODDESS', had this all prearranged with her very best
friend, who here by the way, was and maybe still is; with the
Atlantic City Beach Patrol, WBST is www.acbp.com/
and used to be accessible on that site. You could not miss this
beyond super hot blond. She was short, buxom built, with lovely
bright yellow hair, a beyond red hot dish to say the least; and a
nice and friendly person as well.
Long
Story Short, or (LSS), she had me come into the soda shop with her,
and immediately she and Diana were whispering and giggling together,
and then she sat down at a table, and Diana came right up to me, and
I still did not remember who I was, where I was, or who Diana
Arteemis was. She got a real kick out of this, and she came right up
to me with her beautiful smile, and stared down at me from her lovely
tall height, and just kept smiling at me; knowing all along, that I
did not know who I was, or anything else, for that matter. I know
that those huge online and powered up mainframe's all around me back
in the life where my body laid there dreaming, caused this powerful
interaction. I fell so madly in love with Diana, all over again,
totally forgetting that I all ready loved her in eternity there, and
this is why I tease the old Munsters show with their episode where
Lilly Munster and her husband Herman are working at a shipyard, and
fall in love all over again, without knowing who they were; as they
were doing welding on these ship, they had to wear protective masks;
and could not see each other's face, or hear each other's voices
normally. I always say that no matter how many times DIANA and I
would be put together, with a full memory swipe-erase, we would
always fall in love over and over again. Diana is the second person
of what mortals call the godhead or Trinidad, if pronounced more in
far southwestern parts of the land masses of this world such as South
America. Closer to where most are reading these words, this word
translates into Trinity. 'TY' or 'DAD', interestingly enough for many
reasons, we need not painfully get into right here and now, old spy
Sharon, and Mister High School Guidance Counselor Jockamini of the
late sixties; are interchangeable from root words, such as is MARTIN
root word, becomes suffixed with EZ in Spanish, or O for the
Italians. The root word of electrici also can end with either the
'TY' or the 'DAD'. English say 'electricity', while Spanish say
electricidad. I always used to love that Delaware connection with the
policeman and the highway maintenance-man, that made the news so much
during huge snowstorms, back when I Iived up in Jersey; you would see
them switch over from Trinidad to Martino, and WOW,
Mister Macy, did I get a kick out of that, and had to wipe off some
bloody mace can shoes, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Learn to laugh at it all
world. My kid has taught me some great stuff, or then, really; did
she get this first from me, by reading old Morianity? I think we both
know which way this went down, but I am always only too happy to do
anything that I can, for this marvelous, wonderful, and unfathomable
goddess! Now MICROSOFT CORPORATION seems to have started a hack;
insisting there is no such word as 'LIVED' as when I said, 'back when
I lived in Jersey'. So let me end the blog for now and post it up to
my Wordpress, and my Blogger sites, YO!!!!
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MORIANITY-4
REALITY
THREE, AND THE OLD TWILIGHT ZONE SHOW:
Any
fan of the old black and white Twilight-Zone television show, knows
what I am about to discuss. It is the episode where aliens land on
the outskirts of a town, disrupt everyone's phones and cars and
electricity, and get them to all turn on each other. It also is what
I touched on just a small bit, in my 2008 and 2009 blogs back when I
resided in New Jersey, and called it 'Reality-Three'. All the people
in town were running around scared and paranoid, accusing each other
of being the monster, or behind the invasion of monsters, and what
have you; and this was the exact plan of the evil invaders on the
UFO. The show ended with the one evil prick saying to his associate,
how this is an example of how they would conquer this planet, going
town to town, one to another, one to another, one to another. Each
person involved in the nightmare of being at the mercy of this wicket
plot to take over the world, had a million names that would be
equivalent to my naming stuff like WOMO, OTAMM, IF, LAMBRIGG CULT, or
MILITUFORCE; and on and on. Each began to see the stuff going on, as
coming from others in the neighborhood, and it ended with them all
destroying each other. Now fortunately for all of you, who may be
reading this MORIANITY; there are no evil UFO INVADERS, there are no
plots in that conventional way, of taking over or destroying our
world, and so on. However, there is something 1000 times more real
and powerful than if this was what was going on. Still, I need you to
see, and understand, just this little bit of my telling you about
this fictional old sci-fi television show; so you then will be able
to go on and compare it to what I will now tie in, that is not one
bit made up fiction. Also bear in mind, that this is just the most
recent stuff around me here in Fort Pierce, Florida, and does not
begin to be some all inclusive report or biography of my entire
inconceivable life of hellish nightmarish and unexplained endless
horrendous mysteries, that separate me from society, and the ability
to ever have any kind of near normal life.
Why
Debbie Morotto, my office resident manager of this PH Building, and
more wonderful initials that are endlessly 'inescapable as promised,
hot or cold'; thought that this Dell guy would help me, is unknown to
me. It may be all innocent and flower-rosy, and it may have darker
agendas like 'HA-HA Bikes and Choppers' I can never know these things
for sure unless I could take about ten people out to an alligator
swamp, tie them up, and beat and torture them; until one of them told
me the truth, about what has been happening to me for 50 fucking
years. I do not plan on doing anything like this, but without taking
such wild action, I will not ever get the answers that I need, and I
KNOW THAT, 100%!
At
first, this dude was going to help me, and one thing led to another,
and now he has no time to help me; maybe in a month or two, and how
would 'MY' say or put it, ''Oh yeah, right''? Let us do a long dirty
laundry list of folks who said they would help me with my computer,
and never would. Mister Dell is the most recent one, and then going
back and hopefully not forgetting, or omitting anyone; we would have
Dennis, Camille, Meagan, Jasper, Eric; and I know that I am missing
quite a few all in-between these names, as this is very depressing;
and folks wonder, gee Mark, why do you get depressed, and lash out
against the world, and curse and say that people are rotten, and no
good at all? Well if I have to explain it, then doing so is just
wasting everyone's time. But the story is a lot bigger than this. At
this building, the security has 24-7 guards at the ground floor
security desk, that rotate on 4 hour shifts. The guard who relieves
the Dell guard, lives right next door to the noisy nabes directly
across the hall from me, and they all are friends and go in and out
of each others' apartments on a very regular basis. A door closes
around three every morning, as well as seven every morning; and that
is the neighbor next door to the nabe across from me, going to
relieve the Dell Guard, and then coming back, each day, all seven
days; and I came to learn from the Dell guard, that these shifts are
28 hours per week, all seven days, and he told me that his relief
guard lives on my floor. It was my nabe who also knocked on my door
and thought that I was hacking him, the day that Chase Morgan Dennis
from the Public Library, was over here back on the eighteenth day of
last December. I do not know what game, Debbie the office manager, is
playing with me; but I do know that I will either get to the bottom
of it this week, before this week is over; or I am driving to the
State Capitol, and they'll have to lock me up if they won't hear my
story, and make at least a modicum of effort to help look into my
problem, whatever it really is, Doctor 1984 Sorethroats Doogie
Howser. But the point I AM attempting to make here people is really
not all that complicated. I AM not trying to prove my Stockholm
Kidnapping by the most powerful EXPLORATRON
FAMILY in the multiverse. I am not trying to prove the
mathematical and statistical odds of the Pope choosing the church
right down the road from the house where my bloody shoes were
kidnapped into by Ann and Dawn-Marie King, out of what, millions of
other possible churches of Roman Catholic religion, all across the
rest of the Continental United States. I am not trying to prove how
HADDONWOOD
CLUB was some sort of an EXPLORATRON cosmic meeting
place for the other ES, not the beautiful tall building. I am not
trying to prove the details of intricacy on rocket science and
propulsion, Quantum Dynamics; or any other issue, that is much ahead
of the fourth grade lesson books. I am just saying that if you do not
know of that particular Twilight Zone show, then ask your library or
some video rental or sales place near your location, to get it for
you on a DVD or a BR, or whatever; then watch it; and then understand
how M4 is going to really be getting
into R3, and not just getting into it;
but it will also be the theme, all throughout it as well, my friends
and my fiends.
I
went to my doctor today, and more strange stuff is happening to me.
He will not be in until a week from now, and they do not reschedule
patients, or at least they do not do this for me. They just make you
see other associate doctors, who will not write my scrips. So I have
a new appointment to see him next month. If the games continue; as
for some time, I think that he is trying to lose me as his patient,
and will not come out and say it to my face, with all this crazy
so-called insurance changing junk, and other stuff; and scheduling me
on days he is not there, and so on, then it will be time to get a new
doctor. I have too much on my mother fucking plate, to have this
narc-squad fucking crap hanging over my head on top of my already
beyond mother fucking miserable nightmare endless hellish life and
sub vampirism, without the lovely company of Roseann. If they force
me to leave the states, and move south of the border, where this
particular problem would be over forever, then that is what I'll have
to do in March, as I am not going to choke to death, while these
fucking family dirt bags all sit around laughing at me and cheering
me on, to go six feet underground. I'm a survivor, and you will not
kill me, mother fucking jerk offs, and THAT, Sir Rockdroid, I'LL
PROMISE YOU; SHARON OTHEROUCH CROSSDRESSERSPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is only a matter of time, and I will fucking do something that
destroys this entire planet, if you god dam fucking LAMBRIGG
REALITY-3 bastards, don't get the hell out of my fucking OJ life, and
leave me the fucking shit alone! So BE
CAREFUL
P.B. KING, and Mister Mayor Future-Knower of '97.
MORIANITY-4
4:29
PM-EST, 02/10/2013
Another
Beginning That Has No Real Ending:
BT:
This
has been a super fucking BAD WEEKEND. My jerk off noisy neighbors
have been shouting in the hallway, and wearing out the doors all
weekend long; and this began back in the middle late part of last
week, and is getting only worse; and tomorrow, I'll stop in and see
the Resident Manager, to complain, AGAIN; Miss Debbie Morotto.
The
scum bag INTERACTION FORCE (IF) formerly known as the WOMO
MILI-2-FORCE and LAMBRIGG CULT of Phase-2-Reality (spirit-world or
Astral Plane) hit me hard, with a horrendous fucking bowel and shit
and cramping attack, and left me quite ill this entire weekend, as
well. I TOLD YOU ALL, that there would be repercussions and
consequences for telling so much fucking shit on recent blogging
texts, YO! Am I on the money or not with many incredible things,
lovely Giant-Gina of the nineties, sweetie???????????????????
MAGNESONIC,
scan all of my filth bag cock sucking enemies, for total destruction
and obliteration. Use maxed out power, and all general and special
orders; and hear my double tones for transpower block empowerment,
under a punishment sequencing system of an 'I' to 'D', A/B Tone
System, that is now switched to you, connecting into my mind
directly, and hearing my 'EEEEE' sound from my sixth dimensional
connectiveness. You are at max-power of 11.8 IPNS, with all controls
against your pull power gain at 11.5.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE********EEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
G-901, under CG-18, AND
STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
will tell a gigantic TRS from the days of 2007 and
RATS-TATS-&-PLAYING REAL JS WEIGHT WATCHERS FOOTBALL. I know I
was MIND-HACKED, and will go on to tell at a later time, what I
started to tell a few blogs ago back in M3M3, and you will get
another dose of mind blow, but for now, a different door will be
removed from Scylla's great wonderful Lakehouse of transformation,
and calling out of names; huh Billy Pocketpicker Harner?
You
know, I will tell you what happened now first, before I forget again,
and there are other unhacked mental things, but this can wait for Jim
Rockford, and his filed teeth of the seventies. It took place at
Publix where I do my shopping for certain items, and where the weird
character from the library, works as well. A man brushed next to me
in one of the aisles, and I thought he might be a pickpocket, and
instantly, I checked, and nothing had been removed from my pockets;
but there was something added into one of them, a back pocket on the
left side that I never use. He put a note in there, that I did not
become aware of until getting home and listening to that strange
paranoid voice we all get inside ourselves from time to time, telling
me to check the rear pockets. All it said was, and I am quoting from
it as I have no intention of losing it, and am reading from it as I
type, ''Your death-bed confession tape with future Governor Florio of
New Jersey will indeed become a reality before too much longer, and
you'll never guess who will be making it''. Does this powerful note,
that reminds me an awful lot of the Colaman days, and the mailbox,
back in Hammonton, New Jersey; send any Donna Gaines chills or goose
bumps up any spines out there, in the United States Copyright Office,
either now, or speaking of the late eighties when this Florio tape
crap was going down live; back then; and would anyone blame me, if I
typed in your wonderful word, Mister R. H. Macy, as this is exactly
what I AM going to do, YO?
W--------O--------W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
for the major totally untold TRS Dejour, of the endlessly sanitized
ninnynut, all French models notwithstanding, TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly
Munster, all over again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My father, and Project Aunt
Jeannie, and pillow talk; is not limited to 'STAR TREK MOVIES', and
how he knew intimate details of these future videos, years ahead of
time, in January of 1974 when they were not made until around 1978
or 1979, at the beginning point where numerous ones followed the
first one, and yet, out of ten things he spoke in his ''sleep''
about, in the wee hours of a few mornings; only one seems so fitting
to tell you now folks, as my TRS for this day in retaliation for all
of this fucking pummeling and persecution. He spoke of certain things
that did not make sense to me until the very end of the entire
twentieth century, after I had joined the ECKANKAR for a couple of
years back from 1997-2000. He never spoke that name, but he spoke of
something I never would have witnessed without them in my life,
something he owns, worlds away from here, called, Island Universe
Diners of Akoslem. When I mentioned the name Akoslem later around
noon that day, while we were writing a letter together to a mail
order business owner by the name of Paul Michaels, he scribbled
something totally illegible onto the scratch page that I later typed
as the copy sent to Mister Michaels on the following day. When he
wrote me back, the exact same strange blot of seeming scribble, was
on the letter from Paul Michaels, even though it was a typed letter.
This has been a powerful mystery that has eaten me alive for years,
and I just never felt like blogging about it, as just where exactly
does this shit fit into anything that seems to pertain at least so
far, to me and Morianity? I don't have this old thing, and it was not
lost as a result of my running away from the King Branch of
THAT-FAMILY
from nightmare-1970, and I'll admit that. Still, a powerful memory,
in the name of heaven I totally swear this is true has come back to
me; and I know that in the center of this wild weird scribbling; were
the same two letters of 1997 and Goddess Scylla, only they were
superimposed, on top of each other. I know this, and would 'stake' my
frikkin life on it, Roseann Delaney; careful girl, that hurts,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now a day after receiving
the letter back from Paul Michaels, where he responded to a business
proposal that I had come up with, as I too was going to be
attempting to begin a mail order business, after my dad left early in
February, to go to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, until he came back in the
summer time somewhere in 1975, a year and a half later, right after I
got the shit knocked out of me by those two lifeguard mascots in
Atlantic City, New Jersey; for doing nothing wrong, or to them, in
any way; for me to deserve getting, as Charles Barkley puts it so
frikkin eloquently, ''an ass whooping''. But after getting this
letter from Mister Michaels, the next day; my dad dropped out of a
large laundry bag, while he was rummaging around in it for something,
in front of both my mom and me; a second wallet, and it opened up,
and right in the billfold part, lots of blank paper just popped out
and unrolled; and inside that, was a marriage license that showed
that my father had married a woman named Monica. My mom grabbed it,
and handed it to me, and then my dad just stood there not quite
knowing what to do. Now bear in mind, that my mother initiated a
divorce, years back in the late sixties; on the grounds of desertion.
There is a lot to discuss about all of this, and many enemies in the
'WOMO', know a lot as well, as does the Fisher family of treasure
salvers, right here in the Saint Lucie County's world famous Treasure
Coast. I will tell a lot more about this, and other pillow talk that
proves my dad, along with his great Princeton Park pal, the one and
only Albert Einstein, a long time ago during the great World War 2;
also interconnected this mind blowing family of mysterious dreams,
washcloths, intrigue, and disaster. The story has not yet unfolded to
its final conclusion, yet I will tell it as it continues to go down.
And why will I do this, oh great Swami of Egg Harbor City, Terry
Scatterbrain Glasseshater? Well, because, as with Mount Everest, it's
there; only unlike the mountain and many other fantastically named
mountains far away; it needs to become known about by the waking
world, and without my telling it, the great 'Sanitation Ops' will
prevail. For now, ET.
WHAAAAAAAAA
555555555555
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