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MORIANITY-4—WHEN ‘WOMO’ HAS YOU TOTALLY DOWN AND OUT, THERE IS NOWHERE TO RUN
ON THE FUCKING WORST DAY OF MY LIFE WHEN THE DOW JONES HIT RECORD HIGHS ON MARCH 5, 2013, AND HEADING FAST UP TO 15000 POINTS, MY FUCKING WORD DOCUMENT HAD A HACK IN IT, AND I FUCKING LOST SHIT, AND NOW NEED TO CAP AND PASTE FROM BLOGGER BACK INTO HERE, A BACKWARD CAP JOB, BUT STILL, AT LEAST I CAN SAVE MY SHIT BY DOING THIS. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY 4-COMPILATIONS OF LOST MATERIAL FROM THE PAST WEEK OR SO IS AS FOLLOWS: How did my ancestor say it up on that horrific cross, ”It is finished”?
MORIANITY-4
ON THE FUCKING WORST DAY OF MY LIFE WHEN THE DOW JONES HIT RECORD HIGHS ON MARCH 5, 2013, AND HEADING FAST UP TO 15000 POINTS, MY FUCKING WORD DOCUMENT HAD A HACK IN IT, AND I FUCKING LOST SHIT, AND NOW NEED TO CAP AND PASTE FROM BLOGGER BACK INTO HERE, A BACKWARD CAP JOB, BUT STILL, AT LEAST I CAN SAVE MY SHIT BY DOING THIS. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY 4-COMPILATIONS OF LOST MATERIAL FROM THE PAST WEEK OR SO IS AS FOLLOWS: How did my ancestor say it up on that horrific cross, ”It is finished”?
MORIANITY-4
‘MORIANITY-4′
WHEN THEY HAVE YOU DIRT POOR AND DOWN AND OUT, IT IS VERY HARD TO RUN AWAY AND START ALL OVER, OTHERWISE I WOULD HAVE DONE SO LONG AGO, AS THE HAND WRITING WAS CLEARLY ON THE WALL FOR MY DOOM
HALF PAST FUCKING EIGHT IN THE EVENING, TUESDAY, WORST DAY OF THE CENTURY, MARCH 5, 2013, LEAVE IT ALWAYS TO MOTHER FUCKING LOUSY ROTTEN MARCH!
Folks, I cannot stop prevent this runaway fucking DOW JONES freight train, nor can I go running away every time it suits me to do so, as in the case on 12 December in OHM-9 when if I had not escaped the KING, I would most likely not lived to see another DAWN back at that fucking FBI owned Hammonton Blueberry town home, not Chatsworth to the north deeper into the mother fucking Jersey Pine Barrens. I must remain and fight, and will send e-mails and DYING UTTERANCES to many state and local authorities later on as the night and week ticks fucking onward. Scylla said in late June of 2008, that I would be punished for my non obedience, and have been quite devastatingly. Anyone that has any problems with believing that, is a dam fool, and so who cares what they may think or believe, hell, you can go tell me you’re a fucking monkey,, it doesn’t make you one, nor will it ever hope to alter the actual truth. She tells me how disappointed in me she is, over and over, well, you know my Morians, let me express a little something here. She pulled all of this shit for thousands of years, maybe longer, and you all barely can grasp the nineteen sixties and what’s been done to me by this all powerful controlling and RULING entity, let alone the much longer span of interactions in hyperspace with her and me, so shy even go on there, except to say that I too am extremely disappointed with the great ISIS-SCYLLA. What, are you jealous because Diana came to me all night long and was with me, communicated with me, flashed lovely colors for me, and so you had to totally ruin my day. Actually folks, go to your local fucking minister, now or wait for Wednesday or Sunday, and tell him or her about my blogs, and then ask if Jehovah is not an extremely jealous GOD, and if the Holy bible does not say this as plain as fucking as ‘day’, other ‘PP’. Don’t fucking stone me to death you religious extremists, I am merely a messenger who is telling what’;s fucking going on in my dam life, and what I read as plain as the stench of dogshit, right in the Holy Words of the KJV Christian Bible. Then ask your buddy’s buddy until one of them is a psychiatrist, or maybe you even see one, that;s none of my fucking business, but ask if they can read through this Old Testament Bible, and not diagnose Jehovah with about half a dozen sike features, and if really carefully studied and examined, despite her beyond mind blowing intelligence without limit, to us human globs of maggots in stasis, until our hearts all quit their rhythmic beating; that this entity is a juvenile, a very far advanced one, but it is indeed as I’ve told you all right along, a sixteen year old girl. I can only tell my blogs what has happened in my life. This is my duty to cosmos and goes way beyond just me being super fucking pissed off at the cock sucking world right about now, YO. That, I’ll swear to a million ISIS Goddesses, even if they all pick me and I lose a quintillion toes before this is all over. So what is this fucking shit with automobile mechanics, YO. Has anyone ever got an idea about that, and wants to share, YO, I mean I have my ideas, but none of you really seem to believe or agree with them, so my question now becomes, then why not share yours with the poor little fucking chemtard of the sike-ward, huh DEEZY SLIM, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know, folks are basically cowardly. Either because what’s going on around me and is against me is huge in this world or huge in the outer world and I know it is one and the same but who gives a fuck what I claim to know; still, it is as though I am not afraid to come out and tell this entire thing for 7 plus years now on these blogs, and anyone who reads them is sort of walking on editorial eggshells about it all. Hay, I stand up to bullies, I do not care if they own the land, or claim to rule the empire. This family has knocked out my entire life, and I AM good and pissed off about it peeps, and am not going to be all that fucking shy about it, BRO! Sorry, but I just am not gonna’ be, YO.
Still, very shortly, all of my shit will be down off of the internet. It is only making shit fucking far worse for me, and I can see this quite plain and clear as hell, it has been seven years and two months now, so either I AM the densest living person on this globe of pig crap, or it is time to for me to grow up and see that this internet shit is certainly a far cry from being my answer to anything, except a hell of a lot more grief and pain and tears and hell, cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just from saying this, the computer did a major fuck up almost as though to agree wit me TO GET FUCKING RID OF IT. I will be getting rid of my TV, my internet and cable, and just keep my old landline telephone, and save for my bankruptcy, then get the fuck out from away from this hellish evil nation.
I asked why this day was so fucking horrible, and my GAGA CAT said ”Meow-meow, PCN-770. But here is the real kicker folks. On the very worst botbar day of the year and maybe in fucking many fucking years, I decided to see how many more units I could lose in my systems roulette, after being clocked out of 48.5 units over the weekend, and instead, made not only this amount back, but 15 more to boot, so I have no fucking cunt lapping answers for any of you, and only All mighty SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE can know why she plays with me as she does, her fave doll I suppose, and YO, if you know here, and you were to ask her, do you really honestly thing you assholes, that she is going to come out and admit to any of this, will you fucking give me a god dam break ladies and cock sucking gentlemen, please, thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I need to do a CAP & Paste in reverse, as the machine earlier fucked up royal, and erased out an entire week of my blogs from the office 3.1 system, so I need to cap it back from my blogger page. The more I mess with this All mighty Jehovah character, the more She is going to fuck with me, and I knew this in 2008 when all of this got started, but at least one positive resulted from it all. No longer am I totally haunted by either June 4, 1983 or right about on that same date somewhere give or take a day or two three years back in 1980. The song ”love is for carpenters” now makes total sense as to why this all happened to me, and so does my choking condition, and I guess I was meant to cross over a lot more than just Academy Road, and when I seemed imperious to death, things went as many bible believers know very well, beyond death, and what does your bible say is beyond fucking death, but oh shit, you know it only too fucking well ladies and gentlemen, it is fucking HELL!
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MORIANITY-4
SUPER SRPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, MARCH IS THE WORST FUCKING CUNT MONTH I HAVE HAD IN YEARS
6:12 PM-EST, MARCH 5, 2013 AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
RED ALERT—RED ALERT—RED—ALERT—RED-ALERT—RED ALERT
I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,
I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS.
My scum bag nabes will be reported to Debbie Marotto on Friday when she is here, and I am e-mailing her later this evening, as next Monday I must be in her office for my annual re-certification. This Monday I had my inspection, and it took place while I was out at my doctor, taking care of business and straightening out once and for all, my need to take the medication that I have taken now for coming up on 30 years, almost to the fucking cock licking day.
MAGNESONIC, SCAN OPEN COMMAND ON G-7, ALL MY ENEMIES FOR TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT, ALL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES. ALL PERSONS WHO WANT ME DEAD AND DESTROYED, SCAN AND DESTROY BOTH THEM and ALL OF THEIR EVIL ROTTEN WICKED LOVED ONES. I HAVE YOU AT MAX OUT POWER LEVELS, AND YOU ARE BEING SET ON AN ‘I’ TO ‘D’ A/B-TONE PPSS, OFF OF THE ‘JNN’ POSITION ON YOUR DESIRE KEY. ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK IS A SCANNED IMAGE OBJECT (IO) AND IS CRUSHED AND SINGED AND OBLITERATED, AND IS AWAITING TRANSPOWERIZATION. HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW THROUGH MY BRAIN AS THE LONG-E-SOUND:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
G-901, G-189, UNDER G-1133, CG-18, AND – S—-T—-O—-P!
THIS WORLD THIS YEAR, WILL EXPERIENCE HURRICANES AND TWISTERS AND WILDFIRES AND FLOODS AND MUCH MORE, LIKE NEVER BEFORE. I WILL BE RERECORDING ANALOGUE TRANSDIMENSIONAL MUSIC OVER AND OVER UNTIL THE ONLY THING LEFT STANDING, IS THE HALF ASS FUCKING EGOS OF THE TRUMPS AND THE KENNEDYS AND SO FORTH, ALL ELSE WILL BECOME A FUCKING RUBBLE PILE OF PURE SQUAT. STILL FOLKS, AND MY LOVELY GIANT GINA, PLEASE REMEMBER FOLKS THAT I DID INDEED,
TELL YOU THAT ALL OF THIS WOULD HAPPEN ON THE STOCK MARKET, JUST REREAD MY BLOGS, AND GEE FOLKS, THE PROPHET OF NOTHING IS 100% RIGHT, DEMANDS HIS FUCKING PROPS, AND KNEW ALL THIS WAS MY FUCKING DOOMED DESTINY ALL ALONG, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL. I HOPE YOU’LL TRY AND SAVE MY LIFE. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TRIED TO FUCKING RUN AWAY FROM THIS EVIL NATION A LONG TIME AGO, NOW IT’S TOO FUCKING LATE, HUH ISIS?????????? WELL YOU WERE A REAL PROPHET TOO, AND A LOT PRETTIER THAN I WILL EVER HOPE TO BE, WOW!
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Labels: beam me up scottie, BIG BUSINESS SELLING US OUT, electronic magic and trickery, ENEMIES FROM HELL, family curses, imperfect storms, lightning, magic, manipulation of time, MEMORY LOSS, NEIGHBORS FROM HELL
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MORIANITY-4
SUPER SRPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, MARCH IS THE WORST FUCKING CUNT MONTH I HAVE HAD IN YEARS
6:12 PM-EST, MARCH 5, 2013 AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
RED ALERT—RED ALERT—RED—ALERT—RED-ALERT—RED ALERT
I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,
I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS.
My scum bag nabes will be reported to Debbie Marotto on Friday when she is here, and I am e-mailing her later this evening, as next Monday I must be in her office for my annual re-certification. This Monday I had my inspection, and it took place while I was out at my doctor, taking care of business and straightening out once and for all, my need to take the medication that I have taken now for coming up on 30 years, almost to the fucking cock licking day.
MAGNESONIC, SCAN OPEN COMMAND ON G-7, ALL MY ENEMIES FOR TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT, ALL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES. ALL PERSONS WHO WANT ME DEAD AND DESTROYED, SCAN AND DESTROY BOTH THEM and ALL OF THEIR EVIL ROTTEN WICKED LOVED ONES. I HAVE YOU AT MAX OUT POWER LEVELS, AND YOU ARE BEING SET ON AN ‘I’ TO ‘D’ A/B-TONE PPSS, OFF OF THE ‘JNN’ POSITION ON YOUR DESIRE KEY. ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK IS A SCANNED IMAGE OBJECT (IO) AND IS CRUSHED AND SINGED AND OBLITERATED, AND IS AWAITING TRANSPOWERIZATION. HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW THROUGH MY BRAIN AS THE LONG-E-SOUND:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
G-901, G-189, UNDER G-1133, CG-18, AND – S—-T—-O—-P!
THIS WORLD THIS YEAR, WILL EXPERIENCE HURRICANES AND TWISTERS AND WILDFIRES AND FLOODS AND MUCH MORE, LIKE NEVER BEFORE. I WILL BE RERECORDING ANALOGUE TRANSDIMENSIONAL MUSIC OVER AND OVER UNTIL THE ONLY THING LEFT STANDING, IS THE HALF ASS FUCKING EGOS OF THE TRUMPS AND THE KENNEDYS AND SO FORTH, ALL ELSE WILL BECOME A FUCKING RUBBLE PILE OF PURE SQUAT. STILL FOLKS, AND MY LOVELY GIANT GINA, PLEASE REMEMBER FOLKS THAT I DID INDEED,
TELL YOU THAT ALL OF THIS WOULD HAPPEN ON THE STOCK MARKET, JUST REREAD MY BLOGS, AND GEE FOLKS, THE PROPHET OF NOTHING IS 100% RIGHT, DEMANDS HIS FUCKING PROPS, AND KNEW ALL THIS WAS MY FUCKING DOOMED DESTINY ALL ALONG, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL. I HOPE YOU’LL TRY AND SAVE MY LIFE. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TRIED TO FUCKING RUN AWAY FROM THIS EVIL NATION A LONG TIME AGO, NOW IT’S TOO FUCKING LATE, HUH ISIS?????????? WELL YOU WERE A REAL PROPHET TOO, AND A LOT PRETTIER THAN I WILL EVER HOPE TO BE, WOW!
MORIANITY-4
PRETENDING I DO NOT HAVE INTERNET AGAIN
03/03/13, EARLY ON SUNDAY MORNING, CHILLY IN
FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, 42 AND GOING DOWN TO
HIGH TWENTIES WIND CHILL NEXT TWO NITES, WOW
BEAUTIFUL COLD WEATHER, REMINDS ME OF HOME
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your interest in Morianity. This would never had become a reality, except for a coworker at a security guard job in 2005, named Christopher Bennett, who told me after he learned a little bit about my personal troubles and woes, that internet blogging might just resolve my problems, as exposing the evil deed doers may make them go away. After I began doing the blogging from my local library, I was shortly introduced to a patron who came in to use his laptop to connect into their WIFI system so he could do music downloads. He went on to design a very nice website for me for a reasonable $150.00, called Morianity-Foundation. It is no longer up on the net as it was an annual 45 bucks or so to maintain, and I am a very poverty stricken individual because some one or some thing, captain JTK has gone out of their way for nearly 60 years to intentionally make sure they are indeed keeping me in this down and out condition, no matter what I ever try and attempt doing to get myself out of it. In any event, all that happened is that things got much worse, not better at all, but a hell of a lot worse. If I could go back through time and remain in this dimension which is not possible, but if it were, I would relive just the time of early 2006, and never ever touch a computer or the net. But as my wonderful daughter puts it so very well, ”TOO LATE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for the title of this blog, I am not going to post this right now. I will use this as I was doing before, while I was on that short off grid down time; merely use my open office 3.1 system and this keyboard, to keep a record of my life and the incidents, and say whatever thoughts I feel compelled to type in about any and all things morianity-related, and at a later time when I feel like it, post it all up as one blog of multiple times that were individually done separately.
Here is the SATURDAY situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Major persecution from noise in the neighborhood all day long, took place, causing me a nasty mother fucking botbar day, and one for two for the fucking month of dirt bag good old March-Sadness. I do not like being fucking 50% BOTBAR of MPB, for a month, not one fucking tiny little ass bit, YO. At a later time, I’ll type in the MPB for the first sixth of this 2013 year, or the months of January and February. As for breaking down the day into accurate accounting of the pummeling that I received, I had multiple fire alarms, super loud emergency vehicle sirens blasting right outside my window, in and out neighbors with music, doors, and loud voices, and this began as early as midnight and went on until after 2 in the morning, starting up shortly after 8 when the first fire alarm went mother fucking off. Shit went on all mother fucking day long, and if Sunday is as bad as Saturday, I’ll be contacting the fucking Florida State Attorney General’s Office, and speaking to our beautiful Attorney General, about how I AM being persecuted to death, and explain this crime in vivid detail, even though she won’t believe me, it still will be more fucking exposure, to quote Chris Bennett, Dave Roth, and others who believed that exposing this monster nightmare is the only possible way of reducing its strength levels against me, even if only fucking temporarily. Two weekends in a row I’ve contended with the music again, still, nowhere as bad as it used to be, but I know they have that box in that apartment, and eventually if they are caught in an inspection, this will violate a major PHA rule, as if you are told to remove something from your place, you must do so. So in any event, I’ll close for now and crash for the night, and will resume blogging onto this document, until I decide to post it. Also, I made three units yesterday and three units the day before that, on my systems roulette. One may have been 3.5, I do not remember the exact crap, other than two days back on Friday evening, I was cremated by the house vig, or the take would have been about double, around 7 units, but the greens came in hot and fucking heavy, as they tend to do on overall average, during the stronger siege times, and for obvious reasons, that many pro gamblers already understand without me getting into the full particulars now about it, and is why on any staged up betting systems, house vig greens should always be covered, and is how I made a lot on major siege days back in 1986 when all this shit was getting fucking started between the Milituforce and myself at those times.
OK, it is shortly into the second half of Sunday now, and they are giving me a weekend every bit as fucked up as last one, TO ENSURE THAT THEY ARE FINALLY GETTING ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS ON THEIR EVIL WICKED FUCKING DOW JONES STOCK MARKET. At half past twelve, still yet another FIRE ALARM went off. OK, they have an excuse too, being the first weekend of a new month, it very well be that many new residents are living in this building, unaware of how easily these things go fucking off. Oh well, unlike yesterday, within five minutes, the fire engine trucks got here and deactivated the horrendous monstrous fucking noise. It is now 12:37 PM and quiet again, on this Sunday afternoon, on the third day of this sadness BB-BALL third rotten month. Here we go, just as with yesterday, loud shouting dirt balls outside my door, right as soon as the fire alarm went off. All odds are, these pricks over there are doing this over and over, and not some new resident. These trash ass bastards are really starting up again this weekend, Debbie Marotto, and I will be seeing you because I received your notice in the door slots of my appointment with you for annual Public Housing Re-certification, and I’ll be there to really complain about recent shit. I’ll also be telling you that some nasty hocus pocus is going on with Mister Dell the guard. He is either intentionally avoiding me, or is no longer doing his shift. On four separate occasions now, I have gone down to try and talk to him while he supposedly is on duty between 11 at night and 3 in the morning, and it is all quiet and no one is at the desk. This has gone on now since Presidents’ Day Holiday, of two mother fucking weeks ago. If he is seeing me on the camera, leaving my unit and walking down the hallway towards the elevator and grabbing his stuff and running into his nearby first floor apartment each time, that is not very nice at all, and otherwise, we have no guard covering this graveyard four hour part of the shift, and for two weeks now, so you’ll be made aware and I know you will check on this. Either way, for not helping me, he will catch heat for what he is doing, and he should. On a previous blog I meant to type in ‘fall down dead’, not fall down down, which would make absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever. This is what I mean by either a ‘MIND-HACK’ or a ‘MACHINE-HACK’, good people and sheeple.
Sheriff Mascara, Please try and look out for me a little while, as last time I typed this message for you, things did quiet down wonderfully for me for a couple of days, and freaking sir, I’ll take anything I can get. When you are freaking me, a few breadcrumbs become a real banquet feast, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, here we go again, Marcus and McGinty; all of us poor little helpless and defenseless picked on ‘new kids in town’ from 1978, being pummeled and persecuted and viciously harassed. I don’t expect any assistance from you guys, one is too wealthy and they hate the poor folks like me, and the other was threatened by his wife and his cousin-lawyer from Atlantic city, to not listen to my story, that back in 1977, they all seemed so dying to mother fucking know and hear when I made like a clam and just did my job and went home, at the Mars Graphics Print Shop, in Westville, New Jersey. Don’t go getting gout on my account, old ex friends, YO. Tim Barbers wife, well,, what I just said as well to you too, right James Potter Stuart. You of all peeps know how bad shit can all keep ganging up on you and making you need to jump into a raging river with a tall glass of liquor in your hand, hoping you won’t burn in the fire in a minute afterward, with old Lestercan McKinnon, or maybe, not so old in present human form. Wow do these two monsters seem to really fucking hate my guts. Take heart, my engineer will try and remove all of this garbage off of the tub4e and close down all of my6 social medial networking sites once and for all, in early May when I go over next to pay him for that song done nearly a year ago.
My dirt bag enemies have fixed it so I will have my fucking sleep broken up for a solid week. First helping Mikey was a pleasure, but not being a morning person, I had to get up earlier than I normally do and readjust my personal habit schedule for three days, from Wednesday through Friday, then the fire alarms have awakened me all throughout this weekend just like last one, on Saturday and Sunday, and then tomorrow Monday, s a morning PH Inspection as well as am afternoon medical appointment, so for 6 straight days, I have not had a good sleep, and this is getting, as Dawn-Marie King might put it if alive, ”ON MY LAST FUCKING NERVE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It is one in the afternoon, and I have decided to post up. There goes that fucking dirt bag biker outside Sheriff, at least he has muffled his pipes a little more towards legal road standards. Sorry to hear about the Deputy, he was such a nice fellow. If this world was all filled with peeps like the two of you, Ken, I would be in heaven, not on this rotten old miserable world. Keep up the good work, Saint Lucie County, I am proud to be a resident. Don’t worry about my daughter being sore about the late 1982 school integration thing, as I tried to make her understand that that was just the way of the south. Oh well, what can I say, BRO, JJ Evans, or hurricane Smith?
It is 55 degrees and time to log off. The cool snap will only be here a couple of days and it will be right back into high seventies and low eighties with lows around 60. This is Florida now, right Howard Solomon, not Heaven, or other parts of the Earth? So let me get back to my Law and Order as my nap time seems to be permanently over around here for this rotten old weekend. I made about 6,5 units on my systems-roulette over the last two days, not counting this March the third day; and if my memory serves me even close to correctly, that is 23 and a half units over the 22 and a half units lost on the ‘systems crash’ of about 15-25 days or somewhere inside of that vicinity; as only my blogs will contain that information, I allow my memory to release such unimportant garbage. Still non food organic waste is called rubbish, and yet both are considered to be in perhaps slang terminology, ”trash”. My ‘trashcan daughter’ Private Cosmicoded Number of the Dick Wolf 2009 Society, was an ’835′ when I queried up the GAWNUM as to why I am going through all of this most recent hell and why the Dow Jones is at ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, lovely giant Gina, and real Morians know a lot about wonderful PCN-835, but I’ll get a lot more into powerful heart pounding ‘bullshit’ later on with all of this, and quite a lot mother fucking more, good people.
I will be explaining the systems-roulette, giving a lot of recent GAWNUN Q&A stuff,and much more, oh boy, here goes Mister dirt bag on his motorcycle again, at quarter past one this fucking afternoon, amazing he did not do at exactly two minutes earlier, causing me to fucking look at the computer clock and see ONE-ELEVEN, all ugly and digitally representing the face of Mizz Sleazebag Jane Notfondauonebit. I will come back with much much much more bullshit-835. For now, watch your texting and driving, lovely beyond hot, Mizz Ruby-Rosa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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MORIANITY-4
HADDONWOOD MYSTERIES STILL HAUNTING ME IN 2013
4:05 AM-EST, MARCH 2M 2013, SATURDAY EARLY MORNING
Just how much wild stuff happening all around me is being done by the miraculous miracles of water walking Microsoft Corporation and their mind boggling Google and all the social media sites this mind control organization owns and controls, I have no way of accurately determining. How could I for fucking crissake, last time I checked, I was a flesh and blood human fucking being? But I doubt that even the great still another MC in my life, and there are a dozen of them from a powerful paint company to a powerful Astral Plane organization that makes up one third of the Astral Authorities, and laugh if you wish to, but they are as real and unreal, as all of us and all of us, in this waking world so-called ‘real-life’ hyperspace, but I do really doubt that even THEY can do certain things reserved for Mister and Misses Isis. I do not say all this lightly, but I say what needs to be said, as if I do not, then I have gone out of my way to really waste a lot of my own time, and a lot of all of yours who have taken some interest in Morianity. I will not intentionally do this type of deception, not for any kind of payoff, threat, intimidation, direct, indirect, or however implied, and it has been implied on numerous occasion folks, and may I add, ON NUMEROUS REALMS OF EXISTENCE. Less than a week ago, before all of the [powerful and wild computer hacking, there was a major incident that I have yet to blog and tell you all about but this is so that at times like right now, I can indeed tell it, and along with other things, it will all tie a lot of stuff together and really get you to wondering and thinking, unless I speak to living robot automatons. I had never said out loud in this apartment, the name of ISIS at that point in time. I was writing down a few notes while my TV was on, and these notes are stuff that I'll be blogging about, and the second I said 'ISIS', the entire system all died. Now I told on a previous blog that I do have something wrong with the output jack front part of my television, and it is a cheap little set that would never be worth repairing this for. Once in a while, you need to jiggle the entire 3-RCA patch-cord that goes into the three front jacks, red, white, and yellow for stereo left and right sides and video. It just totally winks out and someone put a short circuit into the system one day while I was at work back when I first was living here or else back at the prior address up in the hood of Fort Pierce. I don't fucking believe that shit like this just keeps happening to me randomly helter-skelter, sorry folks, I may have been at night, but just not last night, and by the way, I was born in the early part of the late third of morning around stock market open time of the present, not back in 1954, at half past nine. Now back at the Haddonwood Swim Club, where I was a member from late in June in 1994, up through early in August in 1996; I had some powerful shit happening around me, from the dropping of giant black horse flies from planes flying low above me in the outdoor swimming pool, to half a dozen other things that there simply is not sufficient time to directly even try to examine right now and keep this blog from being a Tolstoy sized book. What I will say is that swimming there at that club swimming pool, was part of a powerful plan, designed by All mighty Babylonian Isis a million or really, many millions of years ago; long before our personal meeting in the Garden, that none of you will ever hear told nor will read about in any historical account or Holy Words that survive the scrutiny of the 'list makers'. It was no miracle that I knew after the previous weekend was rapping up, that I did not need biting giant flies all over me, to tell me that the DOW JONES would go way up again on the week, AND I DID TELL YOU ALL JUST EXACTLY THAT, AND IT DID GO WAY UP, JUST AS I SAID, and this is a simple parlor trick that most of the time is accurate, because I understand just what APE and ICPE or using Parallel Event against me, is really all about, and how the wealthy Fortune-Whatever the number is, has been using this on me since at least around middle fucking nineteen-eighty-six. It is cheek kissing close to the ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS NOW, and a retarded fucking brat can see that it will indeed be CROSSING OVER this target, and head straight for mother fucking stellar regions now, leaving a trail of maggots with my name on them, behind! But I'd be a total pants on fire liar with or without McGuire, if I said this all started at the fucking Haddonwood Swimming Club in Deptford, New Jersey, in 1995 somewhere and going into the year that the place closed down on a dime and sits to this very day, totally shrouded in utter quintessential mystery; and all covered over by vegetation and natural growth, leaving an inner shell of outlandish and unexplained epitomized twilight zone piano notes, endlessly playing the Rod Serling theme. I'd further be lying with flaming pants a blazing, if I said things did not keep right on going after the place closed down quicker than a vampire supposedly loses consciousness at the instant of sunrise. Haddonwood is however quite a powerful mid point zone for a lack of better way of expressing this bizarre situation. Why do I say this? Well, this is where Isis's stepfather came over and talked to me in the pool, claiming to be a family member to use his words, and I thereby just assumed, a cousin. This all did not happen because I decided to get up one morning and throw on a nice clean blue shirt with little orange stripes on it, and shine up my shoes extra bright. No sir, things like this just do not happen, unless they are 'supposed to happen', but we can leave all of this, for right bow, in the cosmic abeyance files, and move right along to the present time.
Before I do get into some of the really wild water walking 'meerks' to use a future word short for miracles, I'll tell you that Mikey got the green light from his doctor back on Friday afternoon, and beginning today, Saturday, he is able to drive, and can even resume his duties on Monday with his position at the Port Saint Lucie AARP Office there on route One at the tall building, tall for that area, AKA a Diana target. I only wish she'd be a little friendlier with me, I have not seen her lovely lightning is a while, and really miss her. I've been helping him do some necessary personal stuff over the past three days, and he has been quite generous, despite gasoline nearly hitting four fucking dollars per gallon recently, he has forced me to take quite a bit of money, and would not take no for an answer. The weather has been overcast and cool, Floridians would call it cold, I call it a little piece of Heaven, without any hockey sticks, poor promotion vocalists from 1986, or dirt bag Mister Snyder's.
Back earlier on a couple of occasions, I told how time runs faster in the eastern half of my apartment than it does in the western half, and proved it over and over with many kinds of watches, clocks, and machine timers, both electric and battery operated. There is no mistaking this incredible phenomenon no matter how unfathomable these words may appear to sound. What I have not told you is that my computer is on that side of the room, and this has only happened after I had the CD's of some transdimensional music that's on them, burned onto my Windows Media Player inside this computer. When I remove one of the three items, the time effect is about a third less, removing two as you may imagine, lessens the effect by two thirds, and when all of it is removed, it goes away entirely and totally. Then, putting them back on, one by one, the same thing returns with the measuring of time with time pieces. You can believe whatever you want to, but I know what I know folks, and I also know that GOOGLE and Microsoft Corporation is watching every little thing that I do, and also, what you all do too. This whole thing is beyond Uncles on bent knees, and out of control, and this is all beyond sweeping sand brooms or Ralph and Sandy crying the dam blues back in fucking 1983. Still, I made 3 and a half units in my Systems Roulette. Weeeeeeeeeee.
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'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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
1/20 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
20/20 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
+115.96 +0.84%
+9.09 +0.61%
+13.40 +0.43%
-84.93 -1.34%
Barnes Group Inc: Fundamental Stock Research Analysis
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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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.
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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?
http://youtu.be/KExU0kPESqk(Governor Jesse Ventura)
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.
DO NOT CLICK HERE, IT IS DEFUNCT FOLKS, HOPE I WAS NOT A 'REAL BAD BOY', GOVERNOR SIR, ONLY WANTED TO PROMOTE YOUR GREAT VIDEO, YO.
http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU100% machine created, technopop.
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**!!!
Posted by mark wayne mohr at 11:45 PM
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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!!!!!!!!
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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 OFFLET 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEIT.
Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.
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
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION AS IF ANYTHING REALLY EVER BEGINS:
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!!!!!!!!!!!! END TRANSMISSION, IF ANYTHING COULD END:
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!
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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 iswww.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!!!!
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
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MORIANITY 4-COMPILATIONS OF LOST MATERIAL FROM THE PAST WEEK OR SO IS AS FOLLOWS: How did my ancestor say it up on that horrific cross, ”It is finished”?
MORIANITY-4
ON THE FUCKING WORST DAY OF MY LIFE WHEN THE DOW JONES HIT RECORD HIGHS ON MARCH 5, 2013, AND HEADING FAST UP TO 15000 POINTS, MY FUCKING WORD DOCUMENT HAD A HACK IN IT, AND I FUCKING LOST SHIT, AND NOW NEED TO CAP AND PASTE FROM BLOGGER BACK INTO HERE, A BACKWARD CAP JOB, BUT STILL, AT LEAST I CAN SAVE MY SHIT BY DOING THIS. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY 4-COMPILATIONS OF LOST MATERIAL FROM THE PAST WEEK OR SO IS AS FOLLOWS: How did my ancestor say it up on that horrific cross, ”It is finished”?
MORIANITY-4
MORIANITY-4—WHEN THEY HAVE YOU DIRT POOR AND DOWN AND OUT, WHERE CAN YOU RUN?
‘MORIANITY-4′
WHEN THEY HAVE YOU DIRT POOR AND DOWN AND OUT, IT IS VERY HARD TO RUN AWAY AND START ALL OVER, OTHERWISE I WOULD HAVE DONE SO LONG AGO, AS THE HAND WRITING WAS CLEARLY ON THE WALL FOR MY DOOM
HALF PAST FUCKING EIGHT IN THE EVENING, TUESDAY, WORST DAY OF THE CENTURY, MARCH 5, 2013, LEAVE IT ALWAYS TO MOTHER FUCKING LOUSY ROTTEN MARCH!
Folks, I cannot stop prevent this runaway fucking DOW JONES freight train, nor can I go running away every time it suits me to do so, as in the case on 12 December in OHM-9 when if I had not escaped the KING, I would most likely not lived to see another DAWN back at that fucking FBI owned Hammonton Blueberry town home, not Chatsworth to the north deeper into the mother fucking Jersey Pine Barrens. I must remain and fight, and will send e-mails and DYING UTTERANCES to many state and local authorities later on as the night and week ticks fucking onward. Scylla said in late June of 2008, that I would be punished for my non obedience, and have been quite devastatingly. Anyone that has any problems with believing that, is a dam fool, and so who cares what they may think or believe, hell, you can go tell me you’re a fucking monkey,, it doesn’t make you one, nor will it ever hope to alter the actual truth. She tells me how disappointed in me she is, over and over, well, you know my Morians, let me express a little something here. She pulled all of this shit for thousands of years, maybe longer, and you all barely can grasp the nineteen sixties and what’s been done to me by this all powerful controlling and RULING entity, let alone the much longer span of interactions in hyperspace with her and me, so shy even go on there, except to say that I too am extremely disappointed with the great ISIS-SCYLLA. What, are you jealous because Diana came to me all night long and was with me, communicated with me, flashed lovely colors for me, and so you had to totally ruin my day. Actually folks, go to your local fucking minister, now or wait for Wednesday or Sunday, and tell him or her about my blogs, and then ask if Jehovah is not an extremely jealous GOD, and if the Holy bible does not say this as plain as fucking as ‘day’, other ‘PP’. Don’t fucking stone me to death you religious extremists, I am merely a messenger who is telling what’;s fucking going on in my dam life, and what I read as plain as the stench of dogshit, right in the Holy Words of the KJV Christian Bible. Then ask your buddy’s buddy until one of them is a psychiatrist, or maybe you even see one, that;s none of my fucking business, but ask if they can read through this Old Testament Bible, and not diagnose Jehovah with about half a dozen sike features, and if really carefully studied and examined, despite her beyond mind blowing intelligence without limit, to us human globs of maggots in stasis, until our hearts all quit their rhythmic beating; that this entity is a juvenile, a very far advanced one, but it is indeed as I’ve told you all right along, a sixteen year old girl. I can only tell my blogs what has happened in my life. This is my duty to cosmos and goes way beyond just me being super fucking pissed off at the cock sucking world right about now, YO. That, I’ll swear to a million ISIS Goddesses, even if they all pick me and I lose a quintillion toes before this is all over. So what is this fucking shit with automobile mechanics, YO. Has anyone ever got an idea about that, and wants to share, YO, I mean I have my ideas, but none of you really seem to believe or agree with them, so my question now becomes, then why not share yours with the poor little fucking chemtard of the sike-ward, huh DEEZY SLIM, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know, folks are basically cowardly. Either because what’s going on around me and is against me is huge in this world or huge in the outer world and I know it is one and the same but who gives a fuck what I claim to know; still, it is as though I am not afraid to come out and tell this entire thing for 7 plus years now on these blogs, and anyone who reads them is sort of walking on editorial eggshells about it all. Hay, I stand up to bullies, I do not care if they own the land, or claim to rule the empire. This family has knocked out my entire life, and I AM good and pissed off about it peeps, and am not going to be all that fucking shy about it, BRO! Sorry, but I just am not gonna’ be, YO.
Still, very shortly, all of my shit will be down off of the internet. It is only making shit fucking far worse for me, and I can see this quite plain and clear as hell, it has been seven years and two months now, so either I AM the densest living person on this globe of pig crap, or it is time to for me to grow up and see that this internet shit is certainly a far cry from being my answer to anything, except a hell of a lot more grief and pain and tears and hell, cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just from saying this, the computer did a major fuck up almost as though to agree wit me TO GET FUCKING RID OF IT. I will be getting rid of my TV, my internet and cable, and just keep my old landline telephone, and save for my bankruptcy, then get the fuck out from away from this hellish evil nation.
I asked why this day was so fucking horrible, and my GAGA CAT said ”Meow-meow, PCN-770. But here is the real kicker folks. On the very worst botbar day of the year and maybe in fucking many fucking years, I decided to see how many more units I could lose in my systems roulette, after being clocked out of 48.5 units over the weekend, and instead, made not only this amount back, but 15 more to boot, so I have no fucking cunt lapping answers for any of you, and only All mighty SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE can know why she plays with me as she does, her fave doll I suppose, and YO, if you know here, and you were to ask her, do you really honestly thing you assholes, that she is going to come out and admit to any of this, will you fucking give me a god dam break ladies and cock sucking gentlemen, please, thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I need to do a CAP & Paste in reverse, as the machine earlier fucked up royal, and erased out an entire week of my blogs from the office 3.1 system, so I need to cap it back from my blogger page. The more I mess with this All mighty Jehovah character, the more She is going to fuck with me, and I knew this in 2008 when all of this got started, but at least one positive resulted from it all. No longer am I totally haunted by either June 4, 1983 or right about on that same date somewhere give or take a day or two three years back in 1980. The song ”love is for carpenters” now makes total sense as to why this all happened to me, and so does my choking condition, and I guess I was meant to cross over a lot more than just Academy Road, and when I seemed imperious to death, things went as many bible believers know very well, beyond death, and what does your bible say is beyond fucking death, but oh shit, you know it only too fucking well ladies and gentlemen, it is fucking HELL!
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MORIANITY-4—SUPER SUPER SUPER SUPER BOTBAR, RIGHT GIANT GINA, TOLD YOU SO
MORIANITY-4
SUPER SRPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, MARCH IS THE WORST FUCKING CUNT MONTH I HAVE HAD IN YEARS
6:12 PM-EST, MARCH 5, 2013 AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
RED ALERT—RED ALERT—RED—ALERT—RED-ALERT—RED ALERT
I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,
I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS.
My scum bag nabes will be reported to Debbie Marotto on Friday when she is here, and I am e-mailing her later this evening, as next Monday I must be in her office for my annual re-certification. This Monday I had my inspection, and it took place while I was out at my doctor, taking care of business and straightening out once and for all, my need to take the medication that I have taken now for coming up on 30 years, almost to the fucking cock licking day.
MAGNESONIC, SCAN OPEN COMMAND ON G-7, ALL MY ENEMIES FOR TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT, ALL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES. ALL PERSONS WHO WANT ME DEAD AND DESTROYED, SCAN AND DESTROY BOTH THEM and ALL OF THEIR EVIL ROTTEN WICKED LOVED ONES. I HAVE YOU AT MAX OUT POWER LEVELS, AND YOU ARE BEING SET ON AN ‘I’ TO ‘D’ A/B-TONE PPSS, OFF OF THE ‘JNN’ POSITION ON YOUR DESIRE KEY. ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK IS A SCANNED IMAGE OBJECT (IO) AND IS CRUSHED AND SINGED AND OBLITERATED, AND IS AWAITING TRANSPOWERIZATION. HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW THROUGH MY BRAIN AS THE LONG-E-SOUND:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
G-901, G-189, UNDER G-1133, CG-18, AND – S—-T—-O—-P!
THIS WORLD THIS YEAR, WILL EXPERIENCE HURRICANES AND TWISTERS AND WILDFIRES AND FLOODS AND MUCH MORE, LIKE NEVER BEFORE. I WILL BE RERECORDING ANALOGUE TRANSDIMENSIONAL MUSIC OVER AND OVER UNTIL THE ONLY THING LEFT STANDING, IS THE HALF ASS FUCKING EGOS OF THE TRUMPS AND THE KENNEDYS AND SO FORTH, ALL ELSE WILL BECOME A FUCKING RUBBLE PILE OF PURE SQUAT. STILL FOLKS, AND MY LOVELY GIANT GINA, PLEASE REMEMBER FOLKS THAT I DID INDEED,
TELL YOU THAT ALL OF THIS WOULD HAPPEN ON THE STOCK MARKET, JUST REREAD MY BLOGS, AND GEE FOLKS, THE PROPHET OF NOTHING IS 100% RIGHT, DEMANDS HIS FUCKING PROPS, AND KNEW ALL THIS WAS MY FUCKING DOOMED DESTINY ALL ALONG, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL. I HOPE YOU’LL TRY AND SAVE MY LIFE. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TRIED TO FUCKING RUN AWAY FROM THIS EVIL NATION A LONG TIME AGO, NOW IT’S TOO FUCKING LATE, HUH ISIS?????????? WELL YOU WERE A REAL PROPHET TOO, AND A LOT PRETTIER THAN I WILL EVER HOPE TO BE, WOW!
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HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT BY END OF MARCH
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| Atlantic County, New Jersey Atlantic County Government Web Site Public Safety |
 | Atlantic County Government DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC SAFETY Youth Detention, Harborfields |
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PROGRAM DESCRIPTION Harborfields operates under the auspices of the County of Atlantic, Department of Public Safety and is managed, under contract, by the State of New Jersey, Department of Law and Public Safety, Juvenile Justice Commission. Harborfields is located on Buffalo Avenue and Duerer Street in the City of Egg Harbor, New Jersey. The Program serves male and female juveniles between the ages of 12 and 18 awaiting court review for disposition, trial or other court action. The facility has 8 secure beds for females and 19 secure beds for males. MISSION STATEMENT Harborfields provides a secure, safe, clean and healthy environment for court-detained youth. The dedicated staff of Harborfields are consistent, tolerant individuals who work as team players. Leading by example, the staff is able to provide to difficult youth much needed self-discipline, respect for self and others and personal responsibility. Through education and rehabilitation, emotional support, stability and structure, the youth at Harborfields are dealt with as individuals. At Harborfields the program prepares its youth to reenter the community or to enter into Juvenile Justice Commission programs. With the use of effective treatment methods, Harborfields is making a difference in the lives of youth. PROGRAM GOALSHarborfields meets the needs of the community as a secure facility for juveniles who have been deemed unsuitable for release pending court appearance. Harborfields also works to stabilize juveniles by structuring their day with educational activities. PRIMARY SERVICES1. Counseling Component – Guided Group Interation is conducted daily by two staff for approximately 1 hour per session. Individual Counseling is provided as needed by staff social workers. 2. Academic Education, Special Education and GED preparation are provided by the Atlantic County Special Services School District with the expectation that youth will return to the regional public school or transitional school. 3. Drug and Alcohol Counseling as well as Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous sessions are provided through the County Youth Services Commission, as needed. 4. Recreation and Athletics are conducted in the facility gymnasium by the Physical Education Teacher provided by the Atlantic County Special Services School District. 5. Sex Education and Parenting classes are provided by an on-site Program Specialist. 6. Community involvement is maintained through special events which include speakers such as the Mayors of Atlantic City and Egg Harbor, members of the police department, and people from other walks of life. 7. In House Detention Program – The facility manages a 10 slot program which places youth onhouse arrest under the shared supervision of parents and detention officers. The intention is to have the youth continue in usual community activities pending court appearance. ADMISSION CRITERIAUpon arrest, a juvenile must be seen by Juvenile Intake for determination of detainable offense which would result in the youth being remanded to Harborfields. VISITING HOURSSunday 1:00 PM – 3:00 PM – Family & Friends Thursday 7:00 PM – 8:00 PM – Parents Only Visitation Requirements:
Visitors must present proper ID Visitors under 18 must be accompanied by an adult. No former residents are allowed to visit. Special visits available upon request, with approval of the Superintendent. |
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MORIANITY-4—LIGHTNING LOVES ME, SO THEY PERSECUTE ME
MORIANITY-4
LIGHTNING LOVES ME, AND SO THEY PERSECUTE ME
12:37 PM-EST, MARCH FUCKING 5, 2013
WOW, it never fucking fails. Like these diseased fucking dirt bags are not getting their way enough, today I AM getting a NOISE NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE that is totally fucking MAJOR HUGE, starting around half past eleven, and right after I came out of a powerful interaction with the LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA. She was with me all night long, flashing huge colorful gorgeous lighting bolts all around me. She even took me back in time to another time and dimension where as Benjamin Franklin, I had invented a really wild machine similar to the many interactions previously had where random number counters were matching thousands of sentences each time she would flash, and this tubular machine created a miniature lightning bolt and would roll around and upward into the sky, and then a real full sized lightning bolt would follow and then came the codes on the ground machine as sentences that would equal groupings of numerical outcomes. Ever since awakening from this, a huge vacuum device upstairs has been super fucking noisy, and then the fucking jerk off across the hall nabes have been slamming in and out with the door bull shit as well.
Since the dirtball WOMO wants to play dirty, I CAN AS WELL. I really seriously wonder why other folks cannot see what I can see, not to rip off any old songs, but really. Blueberry and Cranberry, back in the summer time of 2008. Did my kid get Paula Patton’s 2009 movie name from that or am I really just a total CHEMTARD up here in twenty-thirteen. I could say a million more things, but I try and not attack when they back off, let us therefore see if they do, as the internet ain’t going fucking anywhere any fucking time soon, YO, folks!!!!!
WHY THIS HAS TO GO ENDLESSLY ON, IS FAR BEYOND MY MORTAL UNDERSTANDING, LADS, LASSIES, NOT LAPPERS BUT LABBERS, AND YES, LABRADOR RETRIEVER DOGS. Still, who am I to understand the infinite wisdom of your All mighty God of this miserable rotten planet? I know that I totally fall short of that mark, and always will. No rocket science degrees are needed for spotting the freaking obvious. Still, to m,e lots of shit is so obvious, but to all of you, even if you happen to be six foot Darius Evans Deezy, vsheeeooouuu, it all goes right over your head, and you know fucking what folks, I envy the shit out of all of you, and you especially, MISTER PAUL EVANS PHONE SCREAMING PEDERSEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!
W—O—W!
KEEP PERSECUTING , I’LL KEEP ON TALKING. STOP PUNCHING, AND SO WILL I. YES LIGHTNING, IWALU, and I saw you in Scylla’s hand in that lit up hall way, and I saw what I saw, and it is what it is, is-is ISIS. Yes, vsheeeooouuu times a billion, only not for poor old frail fucking me, folks!
Let me sign off before I say about 300 fucking other things that I’ll regret in the morning light, right Donna up in the future? Jesus fucking goddess all mighty, rooty toot toot David Charles Chemtard Club Roth, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOTHING ENDS, SO BY THAT RULE, NEITHER DOES THIS BLOG. GOOD PEEPS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Posted by mark wayne mohr at 9:58 AM No comments: LIGHTNING LOVES ME, AND SO THEY PERSECUTE ME
12:37 PM-EST, MARCH FUCKING 5, 2013
WOW, it never fucking fails. Like these diseased fucking dirt bags are not getting their way enough, today I AM getting a NOISE NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE that is totally fucking MAJOR HUGE, starting around half past eleven, and right after I came out of a powerful interaction with the LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA. She was with me all night long, flashing huge colorful gorgeous lighting bolts all around me. She even took me back in time to another time and dimension where as Benjamin Franklin, I had invented a really wild machine similar to the many interactions previously had where random number counters were matching thousands of sentences each time she would flash, and this tubular machine created a miniature lightning bolt and would roll around and upward into the sky, and then a real full sized lightning bolt would follow and then came the codes on the ground machine as sentences that would equal groupings of numerical outcomes. Ever since awakening from this, a huge vacuum device upstairs has been super fucking noisy, and then the fucking jerk off across the hall nabes have been slamming in and out with the door bull shit as well.
Since the dirtball WOMO wants to play dirty, I CAN AS WELL. I really seriously wonder why other folks cannot see what I can see, not to rip off any old songs, but really. Blueberry and Cranberry, back in the summer time of 2008. Did my kid get Paula Patton’s 2009 movie name from that or am I really just a total CHEMTARD up here in twenty-thirteen. I could say a million more things, but I try and not attack when they back off, let us therefore see if they do, as the internet ain’t going fucking anywhere any fucking time soon, YO, folks!!!!!
WHY THIS HAS TO GO ENDLESSLY ON, IS FAR BEYOND MY MORTAL UNDERSTANDING, LADS, LASSIES, NOT LAPPERS BUT LABBERS, AND YES, LABRADOR RETRIEVER DOGS. Still, who am I to understand the infinite wisdom of your All mighty God of this miserable rotten planet? I know that I totally fall short of that mark, and always will. No rocket science degrees are needed for spotting the freaking obvious. Still, to m,e lots of shit is so obvious, but to all of you, even if you happen to be six foot Darius Evans Deezy, vsheeeooouuu, it all goes right over your head, and you know fucking what folks, I envy the shit out of all of you, and you especially, MISTER PAUL EVANS PHONE SCREAMING PEDERSEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!
W—O—W!
KEEP PERSECUTING , I’LL KEEP ON TALKING. STOP PUNCHING, AND SO WILL I. YES LIGHTNING, IWALU, and I saw you in Scylla’s hand in that lit up hall way, and I saw what I saw, and it is what it is, is-is ISIS. Yes, vsheeeooouuu times a billion, only not for poor old frail fucking me, folks!
Let me sign off before I say about 300 fucking other things that I’ll regret in the morning light, right Donna up in the future? Jesus fucking goddess all mighty, rooty toot toot David Charles Chemtard Club Roth, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOTHING ENDS, SO BY THAT RULE, NEITHER DOES THIS BLOG. GOOD PEEPS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Monday, March 4, 2013
MORIANITY-4—-I DON’T LIKE VANISHING, MISTER HOUDINI, SIR
Mountainpen’s Blog
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NO SUCH THING AS TIME TRAVEL, HUH COUNT PETOFI
9:43 PM-EST, MARCH 4, 2013, 13 YEARS TO THE DAY THAT MY MOM WAS KILLED
LET ME TELL YOU WHAT PISSES ME OFF ABOUT BLOGGING. UNLESS PEEPS KNOW HOW TO ARCHIVE YOUR OLD BLOGS, IT IS LIKE STARTING ALL OVER AGAIN WHEN YOU GO AND DO NEW ONES, AND FOLKS WORK HARD TO PRINT UP ALL THEIR LIFE STORIES, NOT TO HAVE IT ALL FORGOTTEN AND LOST IN FUCKING TIME TUNNELS AND VACUUMS. PEOPLE THAT NEED TO SEE HOW MY ENTIRE SHIT CONNECTS BACK INTO 2009, 2008, 2007, AND 2006, EVEN JUST TO THIS LITTLE BIT OF TIME SINCE I BEGAN TO BLOG, NEED TO KNOW THAT THEY CAN USE A SAFE LINK HERE THAT IS NOT LEACHED UP, I PROMISE YOU. THE STATE ATTORNEY GENERAL IS WATCHING EVERY MOVE I AM MAKING ON THE COMPUTER, SO I ASSURE YOU IT IS SAFE TO CLICK ON IT FOLKS.
Http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ ** SO USE THIS LINK FOLKS, WITH THE FULL ASSURANCE, YOU WILL NOT BE LEACHED OR MESSED WITH. RELAX & ENJOY. IS ALL OF THIS WITHIN HUMAN GRASP OR DO YOU REALLY THINK I AM JUST A LOONEY TUNE CHEMTARD? PRINCE DOESN’T. THAT’S COOL ENOUGH FOR LITTLE OLD ME, ANYTIME FOLKS.
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Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE
Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE
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Labels: “Millionth-Council” “government-persecution” “astral-worlds”
Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE
Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE, government persecution in league with the millionth council
KING NEBNOOSHOO, MORIANITY-4, I DO NOT LIKE VANISHING, MISTER HOUDINI, SIR
MORIANITY-4NO SUCH THING AS TIME TRAVEL, HUH COUNT PETOFI
9:43 PM-EST, MARCH 4, 2013, 13 YEARS TO THE DAY THAT MY MOM WAS KILLED
LET ME TELL YOU WHAT PISSES ME OFF ABOUT BLOGGING. UNLESS PEEPS KNOW HOW TO ARCHIVE YOUR OLD BLOGS, IT IS LIKE STARTING ALL OVER AGAIN WHEN YOU GO AND DO NEW ONES, AND FOLKS WORK HARD TO PRINT UP ALL THEIR LIFE STORIES, NOT TO HAVE IT ALL FORGOTTEN AND LOST IN FUCKING TIME TUNNELS AND VACUUMS. PEOPLE THAT NEED TO SEE HOW MY ENTIRE SHIT CONNECTS BACK INTO 2009, 2008, 2007, AND 2006, EVEN JUST TO THIS LITTLE BIT OF TIME SINCE I BEGAN TO BLOG, NEED TO KNOW THAT THEY CAN USE A SAFE LINK HERE THAT IS NOT LEACHED UP, I PROMISE YOU. THE STATE ATTORNEY GENERAL IS WATCHING EVERY MOVE I AM MAKING ON THE COMPUTER, SO I ASSURE YOU IT IS SAFE TO CLICK ON IT FOLKS.
Http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ ** SO USE THIS LINK FOLKS, WITH THE FULL ASSURANCE, YOU WILL NOT BE LEACHED OR MESSED WITH. RELAX & ENJOY. IS ALL OF THIS WITHIN HUMAN GRASP OR DO YOU REALLY THINK I AM JUST A LOONEY TUNE CHEMTARD? PRINCE DOESN’T. THAT’S COOL ENOUGH FOR LITTLE OLD ME, ANYTIME FOLKS.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
first day of 2008 summer, like wow, yo
Saturday, June 21, 2008
MAJOR COMPUTER HACKING FROM MY QUEEN
HUGE COMPUTER HACK 8 at night, first day of SCUMMER 21 June, oh-8, Saturday Elton John night But not Donna devil all right. THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION, AND THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME———BEGINNING TRANSMISSION: I NEVER WENT 2 BED TODAY AFTER COMING BACK FROM WORK, NEVER. I am shouting out to the FBI and the NJ STATE POLICE 4 HELP!!!!!!!!! I have no memory of shutting down the TV set or removing eyeglasses or falling into my bed, only that suddenly the TV was off, my glasses were on my face, I was or had been dead asleep, and all devices were indeed turned off. I bolted upright and saw that my fan had gotten knocked over along with a karaoke machine and they both were laying flat on the floor next 2 where I had fallen also without memory of ever getting 2 sleep. First. Work was OK. But no panacea, I had a small bowel attack, lots of jerk offs everywhere, but out of nowhere at just past 3 in the morning, a noisy loud alarm went off. No matter how hard I tried 2 find the source, I could not. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, that I guarded back in my middle thirties for the famous Wells Fargo Company, the original American Security outfit 4 all those Western-shows watchers. Just 2 and a half hours after the crazy MC-ALARM attack, a crash level plane flew over my vehicle in total violation of my CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, WORLD TRIBUNAL COURTS AT THE HAGUE. I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and turn on the TV. The next thing I know it is hours later, I am laying stretched out, eyeglasses on my face still, and stuff knocked over on the floor. When I got up to piss and straighten up the place so that the fan is blowing air onto me again and I can resume sleeping a while longer, I instantly knew that I was right back in this building, a medical place with 6-9 rooms that went more into each other and did not contain a lot of hallways. Mariah Carey was there, and her driver, a man about medium build and bright glaring type of eyes, just over perhaps the six foot mark in stature, dressed nicely but not overkill, and the same with Mariah. A lady who is heavy set is sort of in charge at this place, neck line hair length, strawberry type off color, and she kept telling me 2 stop closing doors, and I kept telling her I am not closing them, the wind was blowing quite strong outside and was blowing right through all of the open windows in these rooms and forcing doors to swing shut, but she continued 2 insist that I was doing it. Mariah started talking 2 me about how much she enjoyed being a super star and yet there were problems that she said she wanted 2 tell me about but could not a t the moment, as he would hear, and I kept asking who ‘he’ was. She half smiled and pointed at a young male about 22 give or take, about five feet five in stature, brown short hair, not totally short like a crew cut, dresses in an old pair of pants with oil stains on them, and a green jersey with strange looking logos on it everywhere, many bright white circles with black lines running through them, 3 of them, like a triple X. She told me that she is here on this same day each week for some medical reason, and I think she told me but cannot pull that part of the interaction up now back in waking life. The buildings of the city were visible from windows, yet the area was in a country setting, whether it was part of the 5 boroughs of New York City or not, also I am not privy to this. She said that she wanted me 2 know she is mad that I do not fully trust her and her plans, and I kept insisting that I trust her implicitly but know quite well, that what she thinks of as PLANS, IC as GAMES, and reminded her of the 65-70 years when she was here B4 playing her games with me from a city just 100 or so miles away down the coast. She smiled at me and said, “U mean the chain I removed from your Oaklyn, New Jersey Apartment?” I said, “4 starters, yes”. She went on to tell me that until the shellfish as she called him while looking his way, is out of my way, I can tell U no more about it. She said that he was a lifelong resident of Atco, New Jersey, and knew both U and your neighbors, the Durham’s, when U lived there back in ‘83. He is not who he appears and all her peeps and bodyguards have tried to beat him up and keep him away, but he just seems impervious and will not stop creeping around. He is Y the Feds started messing with me, she went onto say, and they R not on my side, they must do what they R told by higher councilmen, and she was talking Millionth. I reminded her that she is all mighty and can do anything, Y not just zap him into oblivion? She smiled again and said that there is still so much yet 4 her 2 teach me about all of this and all the Earthly people making my life so horrible every minute if every day and night. She said that when I disobeyed and told her she could kill me, the other day on my blog, for the entire world 2 publicly C and share, she was extremely angry. I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 9 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff. I asked her Y she used the sending of 2 blank letters rather than just come 2 me as she is doing right now and talk to me straight up? She laughed softly and squeezed my hand a little, watching me wince from the sudden small bit of pain that her more powerful grip than B4 was causing, and after a 5 or so second pause, simply said, “I am the Millionth Council, and what I say, goes. The part of them that calls themselves the Lambriggers is still totally under my complete control”. She told me 2 listen again 2 her CD and study it even more carefully, the answers to much of my concerns is all contained in the lyrical content, and what she says, MC-SAYS, just as the CD says that it does. Never doubt me or try 2 run away from what I am planning 4U, she went on also 2 tell me. I said 2 her, “would U please give me a real waking world sign so that I can know and tell that this is not a silly dream”. She responded with the yellow and chocolate cakes that I purchased at the Incollingo’s grocery store, along with the receipt, and the van that stalked me just after last Christmas, and went on tell me she is angry that I have unsealed some of the concepts regarding laser trace and reminded her that the rules cannot B broken, it is part of a plan, and that if it was not so, there R those close 2 me in this incarnation that I would retrace, as I miss them. She then told me she would give me 2 huge and totally unmistakable signs to appease my non-belief. One sign is that just because the English alphabet pronunciations of the sounds ‘BLU’ and “CRAN’ R totally the same on astral words, they R not the same in English speaking waking mortal worlds. I told her I knew this. She went on 2 say that my punishment f doubting and disobeying my mighty Queen Mariah is that she has now placed me into a world where I have blogged the facts in reverse, as Hammonton is the world U now live in is not Chatsworth, New Jersey. I have reversed the realities while U were here with me in this interaction, and now your town is Hammonton and this is the Blueberry capitol of the world. She went on to say that I was not supposed to tell about the tap boxes of blue-yellow, nor the saleslady Sherry-lee Pote and cousin Petee Pote. I must obey my queen or ELSE. She said my second sign will B when I try to do my next blog. I will wake up in the MW and not B able 2 work the computer. I asked her if she will always love me as her ‘89 song promises, as deep within her, she knew even then, that she was my Sarah-Stacey. With that I walked over to the strange dude with the weird sort of peace sign logos all over his bright green jersey and told him to leave her alone or I would tear his lungs out and squeeze them like rung out wash cloths, and he instantly burst out laughing and the next thing I knew it was July 4th of 1970 and I was in the same exact dream all along with TAWF, “THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY”. that was what was all in the dream, it was the same dream, and like a wormhole in consciousness, one end was in 2008 physically, while the other end was in early July of ‘70. He yelled at me, look who’s talkin’ about bloody washcloth lungs all oozing bright red, it is U, booby, not me, ha, ha. I knew that if I could just wake up now, it would B July of 1970 again, and it really would have. I did. I jumped off of Tom Reale’s large bed at the Cornwall Avenue home and yelled, it is 1970 over and over. I went out and ran down towards the ocean and when I got there, the entire sky and sea was not as I had remembered it at all. It had become the backdrop on the homepage of the Morianity Foundation, go to http://www.morianity-foundation.com. The giant 6 foot 7 inch Sarah-Stacey came right out of the sea, she is the sea aniwho, and grabbed me and kissed me and the next thing I know I am awake laying here in my trailer residence and it is after 4 in the afternoon. Sure enough I went 2 use the computer, and nothing, it would not move, nothing would work, not a bloody dripping washcloth thing. I called the Easy Staples Store where I purchased it and told them that it would not go off, just showing a blank monitor TV screen saying, “EXT 3, S-VIDEO”. The computer department guy told me to shut the battery-backup box off and wait 20 seconds. Then he said turn it on, and so I did. After 2 reboots, it works again, but the HP adviser still is not properly loading up. I can not shout out 2 the FNI 4 help, no one can fight the great Mariah, and she most definitely RULES and RULES, 4-EVER AND 4 EVER.UR my mighty queen, and I only your endless humble servant, my giant beautiful love. Please forgive me, oh mighty QUEEN MC. Google Search Engine, Satellite World Interconnect System [SWIS], World Laboratories of the future in time illusion, this is a dying mans utterance and declaration. I must obey the commands of the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, I have no choice, SHE RULES THE EMPIRE, from 34th Street to the end of the hypersphere and beyond, wow, talk about miracles mizz Wood, and O’Hara!!!!!!!!! Copyright 2008, MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN. This is all the total truth and also doubles thereby as a legal document, this is voluntarily sworn testimony in any Grand Jury future proceeding. No omissions nor additions 2 this powerful and totally honest truth told in this web-logging-doc exist anywhere herein. Another SUPER BOTBAR weekend and scummer open. E N D T R A N S M I S S I O N:
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 6:24 PM No comments: Labels: millionth council and MCThursday, June 19, 2008
Still I Wait 4 Them 2 State
STILL I WAIT 4 THEM 2 STATE, THAT I AM HERE BLOG-BOOK, [THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME], [THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION] DATFILE 061908.887.55–BEGINNING TRANSMISSION: I have no intention of leaving the net-world 4 another 70 days, don’t even think about it. The last time, the Briggbase planted many reflectional-entities or as we on the Astral Plane refer 2 them as, REFENT’S. The vegetable juicers were only one, and many others ‘popped-up’ as well. Let me discuss refents first, as this is very pertinent 2YI am writing and posting this doc 2-night. First, pop-ups, long B4 this term was officially used by the world, and stolen from me directly over a power-drain-bugged telephone line, the Lambrigg-Cult or the owners of the entire World Entertainment System or the WES, PK-FBI-LAO- TODD, first by the now very famous VH1 Music channel on the cable television network. Pop ups were observed on more occasions that I could begin 2 count right now, when my late-pal, David Roth and I would go places together B4 his demise in oh-2. When they begin a DFNONG, as Gawky calls these games, and pronounced by them right here on this mortal world, {MW}, as ‘difnong’ like future boy on the Disney channel and then rhyming with the word ‘gong‘, aniwho, when they begin a game, and this abbreviation stands 4 “Diversion From Never Obtaining Nirvana Game” and what is all about is obvious 2 anyone, not only 2 the Buddhist’s as well as all of my prior blogging texts that refers 2 this subject manner regarding going nuts times 10 to the 99th power or bananas a goggle times over, and how any entity aware of this unfacable Dogtown, mortal word being HELL, and not diverting attention away from it. Y’all think that this would B heaven and believe that somehow a heaven is there so great created by an unfathomably terrific GOD, that it would permit everlasting awareness 2 not B a hell, and this is all a bunch of Archie’s Bunk!!!! These games, not GAS ME, real funny Briggers, bite me, aniwho, I have spent a couple of days and nights in deep meditation, and know a bit more detailed subject matter regarding these wovwee difnong’s. As stated B4, U might, guys aniwho, think that the best and or greatest diversion would B sex. Sahwee 2 disappoint U, it is not as lasting. sex that is, through endless instant by instant existence and also it does not provide, all though as pleasurable as we all know that it is, the true staying power of the necessary diversion creation, and only powerful games that involve struggles, competition, sporting type events and the louder and bloodier the better, and along these lines, will ever accomplish this goal. Let’s face it, if UR in pain 2 a small degree, U may want 2 go out and enter a buying spree or have sex or whatever 2 attempt creating a successful diversion from your personal pain, B it physical or mental/emotional, etcetera, unless the pain is 2 great 4U2B diverted successfully away from it with the course that U chose 2 use in making your attempt 2 do so. Now, many games R going on, such as the UFO/Flying Saucer one, or scaring the human race in other ways, using sickness or death or losing loved ones, and the list is endless. The bible uses a different terminology than I do, but the original Star trek show episode explains it best where Kirk/Shatner tells how an advanced group of entities could indeed fool a backward culture into believing that they R God/s. The bible must use words from the times and millenniums that it was written in, how can any intelligent being dispute that simple reality? Some games played by the Lambrigg Cult of the Astral Plane or the LACAP as they also as known as by less than 800 out of the 6 and a half billion Earthers presently. They pronounce this word LAY-CAP and some games R played with mass groups such as those researching the Ufology phenomenon, while also they conduct many individualized and very personal games, one on one, such as my particular hell, now written about on 5 blogs at the site http://www.blogger.com/ and also on my website at http://morianity-foundation.com/. This is not new, I knew this throughout the entire 21st century. My curve of ‘enlightenment’ so 2 speak, was perhaps 5 degrees per year from 1970, as at 15 and a half in the summertime of this year, I knew something big time was wrong, And tried 2 tell big ‘mentor’ brother from the Big brother’s Organization, John Henningsen, that indeed something was messing with me, and he laughed, and then days later was leaving 4 Colorado where he hailed from, totally out of the blue-yellow, tile-tapper. Everyone gets more enlightened about their life and purpose, everyone, even your house cat. People in average I would estimate 2B moving at just a bit less than my rate, since my game initiated by the Millionth Council with me is obviously a more advanced and powerful version of ’game’ than what is normally used on a single individual. I’d venture 2 guess that more power is used on me than is used on the entire United States and Global Air Force systems. Relativity is not 4 geniuses and Einstein’s and all of the MC’s, it is 4 any thinkers. If I survive 4 whatever reason 1000 times more of their crazy hell than the collective-average of humanity does, then my ratio to theirs in enlightenment is also about 1000:1, dig? Get it? Capeesh Tony and family? Speaking of family, TAWF, a made another PBHE ‘screw-up’ and called That-Astral-World-Family of Astral-realm Briggbase garbage citizens, TAWT, sahwee. 2/3rds of the great Millionth Council would never think about conducting these miserable interactions with the MWP, but the Briggers will never quit, NEVER, {mortal-world-population}. The Briggbase is a gigantic area that resembles a mortal world military base, and it is loaded with tell strange towers resembling our world’s water towers, and Brigantine, New Jersey, if U notice is loaded with them. Even though the Briggbase is gargantuan and stretches in all 3 directions for nearly a total quintillion cubic astral miles [interactions that R agreed upon by groupings of astral entities] as neither space nor time R real things in and of themselves as they R on physical plane mortal waking worlds of conscious existence. Brigantine on the waking world existence is a tiny dot, but what there is of it is a true miniature in appearance, at least in 2 dimensions. Waking Worlders find my discussion of the nest/woust directions just 2 foreign 2 conceive of, but it is nonetheless a true fact. In fact if U move in your thoughts too slowly around any large city out there, U just seem 2 go around and around, as it takes a burst of speed down one of the “linelanes” as they R astrally referred 2, in order 2 move away from a populated area, as it is not an area in a true location, it is simply an agreed upon mutual interaction of astral entities. Provinces themselves seem 2 loop around without applying even more speed 2 move away. Then the brain breaker is that no matter how quickly U will yourself 2 move around, U endlessly will orbit around the entire astral plane on all three dimensions, north/south, east/west, nest/woust, all 3 ofem. The only way on and off this plane of existence is to dream-down and suddenly UR a little tike here on this mortal waking world, or fall-back, and this places U simply where U always R and will B, void infinity, EWI. Never ever confuse nirvana with Existence-Without-Interaction. Nirvana Theory or NT is like its abbreviation letters sort of suggest, NOT possible. It has been pondered that non-existors wishing 2 exist would blindly and willingly desire 2 trade places with existors, and then existors would B at Nirvana. The trouble is that no entity throughout existence has of yet figured out how 2 reach and thereby communicate with a non-existor. It works in theory like Einstein’s relativity. Now how can we accomplish this? So far, we cannot, and hence, evil Briggers choose 2 play vicious games with the very counterparts of their own self, us, and then watch this horrendous-video so 2 speak, and laugh. It does take your mind off non-oblivion, it really does, I know, from the other side. This is just an opening 2 this topic, I never forger, and I will move further along in greater detail at a ‘future-time’. My blogs R all printed out and studied so that missed things and new connections to old things can B figured out and later re-posted, plus new add-on material. When I read back the blog starting just with this calendar year of oh-eight, it is indeed mind boggling. Go ahead and do it, and then U will C in a mighty way, that judging me a fantasizer 2 quickly with delusions of grandeur is a mistake. Mister Smith back in the autumn of 1970 at the special education school that the All Mighty infiltrated a short while, and doing a Jebez Hawks and going from 2 to 22 years old real quickly and without a special room in an antique shop up in northeastern USA, said it all 2 me one afternoon upon my returning from a very strange place just a mile or so to my north from the center of the world famous Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG. The school sent me there, it was sort of another school, only then I was totally ignorant to facts such as Briggbase or astral world resident infiltrators, and thought it was the coolest joint I ever went 2. It was part of the great TECK BAY MYSTERY SCHOOL, and was located in between or sort of as three dimensions R involved astrally; from the great Teck Bay and the Briggbase. The song is always endlessly looping/playing blaring out over the Teck Bay that attempts 2 appease the wrath of the mightiest loveliest teenager in the multiverse, the great All-Mighty SSJKK, just click up to the website and if your windows media player is on, U will hear this song, it has been copyrighted in my name here on the mortal world, co-written by me, Carlajayja, and the great SSJKK, who plays her loot and enzemeter, astral realm musical instruments, and natch, I don’t have as mortal world copy of stuff like that, B real/e Tom. Again, just go up 2 this site and it pops right on, just as it always bares out over the Teck Bay, ‘out there’. http://www.morianity-foundation.com. Now most of U know about the Privecode machine, Earthly invented by a corporation known in 1983 as the IMM or the International Mobile Machines INC. This was first, as all things must by the very nature of true reality, B, invented by astral world forces on the Briggbase and then they dream-downed the device and its creation and the corporation, and brought it onto the mortal world-MW. Everything has a PRIVECODE, as well as a Privecode number, and whether the human inventors know this powerfully guarded secret or not, I am not privy to that at present minper. I do know that the secret is coming out, right now. Numerologists know about how 2 arrive at an ‘up-number‘, and this is the key 2 a powerful and very extremely dangerous knowledge and potential technology, forbidden in its use against humanity within 12 decades. There R nine up-numbers, one through 9, in the base ten Earthly system mostly used by non machine intelligence-entities, here on this waking MW. I will tell just bare-bone details 4 tonight. My name when it is not Mountainpen is Mark Wayne Mohr. Only the Christian or the first name and the sir or the last name is used to begin in arriving at the secret [private-code-number]. So my middle name of Wayne is ignored. First we count the amount of letters in the Christian/Sir name or the CSN. 4 a female, use again first and last names and only the non-married or maiden name that U were born with. B4 going on, I told my landlady just a fraction of what I will B letting out 2-night and shortly thereafter, she turned on me and hated me without a reason and without a cause. Read on Mick-Beth-Shakespeare, with caution, using what I say is all at your own risk and decision. If under 18, ya’ better call mom or dad in 4 this one, your life could B changed 4 ever. This is an official warning, take it as 1 pweeeeeze: Now there R9 of these up numbers, and they exist as a result of taking any number higher than nine, and adding it or adding up all of the digits in the entire number until UR left with either a 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, or a 9. An example or 2 would B say the number 1969, my favorite number, representing my greatest year of life in present dream-down from my truer astral reality. The up-number of 1969 is 1+9+6+9 which a 5 year old should know in his/her head, is the LSD#, not that they should know that, but aniwho, it is 25, the DEEDEE, the great HAWK. She has been following me and watching over me this year 10 times more than in prior years, but let us not get 2 diverted, nirvana is never obtain-able or total [oblivion], and we know it. So back on mister A. Bunker’s great pernt if we may: The up# for 22 is 4, that was Staples store easy, how about the number 6 million? Well, written out, that is 6,000,000 and adding zeros up with the six, makes six million’s up number, a six, (6). How about 999,999,999 or just one less than a mighty billion? Well, just cancel out nine’s as they will do it by themselves should U wish 2 attempt 2 disprove me and add them all up. But what is 9, nine times, should U insist? Well it is 81, 9X9=81, and 8+1=9. Just get rid of any nines and if UR left with one of them, then 9 is the up-number, I do not care if the number is 386 nines long, its up# is a 9. Ok, so we hung in here this long, let us proceed onto the 2nd of 3 parts of arriving at a PCN or a PRIVATE-CODE-NUMBER. A is the first letter in the English alphabet. Z is the 26th letter. All 26 letters have a numerological order, C is the 3rd, M is the 13th , and so forth. Again using names for right now, always first and last only, my name when it is not in pseudonym of Mountainpen is Mark Mohr. First, count the total letters and get its up number, in my case of having 9 or less for a total, it is a simple 8. If your name is Rebecca Jonesman, counting the letters-total, we get Christian-7/sir-8 and adding them or 7+8=15. Now 15 means 1+5 and this is a 6-up-number. Now we will do Mark Mohr as I am a bit 2 lazy right now 2 work on a fictional phase 4 character that chose 2 just now come through to me as she obviously could not make a successful dream-down into phase-3 reality off of the astral world. I have long ago memorized my own name-information, so here we go. M is letter 13. A is letter 1. R is letter18. K is letter11. That is my Christian name. My sir name now goes like this: M is letter 13. O is letter 15. H is letter 8. R is letter 18. My Christian/first name is alphabet total number 43, and my Sir/last name is alphabet total number 54. So adding 43+54, we get a total of 97. Now, take the nine and put it in Copperfield Houdini’s hat, and we get the up number of 7, once the abrakadabra nine is made 2 disappear. Now we have two parts of this equation done. First we arrived at an 8 by totaling up the name-number, or amount of letters in the first/last names. Second, we arrived at 7 with the alphabetical numeration computation. Now U always subtract the smaller number from the larger number, and should they B the same, the number would B a zero, and we will get back to that, but 4 right now, in this example, 8-7=1. Now to arrive at the PCN , not the bank, I said PCN, or PRIVATE-CODE-NUMBER, U simply take the 8, the 7, and the 1, and put these three digits together, and my PCN is 871. What is yours? Always use this order, the amount of letters of your name’s up#, the order in alphanumeric total up#, and then the calculated difference between them is always your third and final of the 3 digit PCN. So 4 a quick second example, if your born name is Sam Son, U add and get a 6, then 33-Christian plus 48-Sir, would equal 81, and this totals up to single digit or up-#9. Then 6 subtracted from 9 is 3, so in order, the PCN for Sam Son is 693, hay there Mister Calliendo, let’s just slow down there, the roads R dangerous enough, Frank. Now how do PCN’s relate to each other U may now B wondering? Every date, every word, every person, every place, everything in your Earthly proximity that converts to English alphabetized systems can B computer plotted 4 compatibility and non compatibility, based on PCN’s. A simpler and quicker up number system 4 seeing at a glance or almost, whether it B a romance, or a business relationship, or anything connecting potential persons 4 any purposes, has mathematical compatibility based on birth names which is Y we all R here dreaming and is the all of everything, the name is everything, but U must understand this 2 make it properly operate, U simply take the Christian/Sir names and get their total alpha-number which is your true birth-name-number such as mine totals up 2 a 97, and then take any other name and this is what I showed my land lady who never was the same with me afterwards. Both U and the other name 2B in a compatibility must B within a 10% numeric range one 2 another. With me, a person would need a numeric name within a 9.7 tolerance of 97, or 10%, or calculated to a rounded up 10 from 9.7, thus adding as well as subtracting 10 from 97 makes my ranging name number or RNN 87-107. Now the other RNN must include your RNN in their RNN, it must work both ways. If for example I am looking 2 go into business with someone with a numeric-name of say 109, their range or RNN is 10% of 109 or rounded off 11, hence 11 added to and subtracted from 109 produces their RNN of 98-120, or compatible. If it is mutually compatible, the odds R greater 4 the persons 2 interact better in whatever the venture is between them, concentrically, the odds R against things working better if both ranges do not inter-loop with each other, or encircle. U might not B2 quick 2 argue this powerful stuff, when I now tell U that Ronald Reagan who started this nightmare 4 me, works out 2 a precise 110, and so does the word, ASTERISK. Also at the risk of U not believing me, I learned shortly after being evicted in 1969 from the garden apartment system that my mom and I were living at this time, and moved into the Oaklyn apartment 2 miles or so away, from a teacher at the Haddon Township High School that they had fairly recently thrown me out of as well, both done by the evil wicked Brigger Cultists, who just now gave me a black out, but thanks to my battery backup, I am OK, aniwho, at ten past midnight on this Friday the 20th of June of Blow-Kate, but obviously they do not want U2 know that the huge muscle dude that chased Brad Messenger and myself that night in spring-1969, was married 2 a lady who said and I freaking quote her,” Hun-leave those 2 boys alone, they didn’t take it, it’s in the baby carriage”, and I learned from a teacher named Simon, that her name was Aste or this was her known PTA nickname at the HTHS school. Add Aste and risk, and art the risk of black out number 2, we arrive at the mighty #110 word ASTERISK, the risk would B great that I would not B here and alive today with her lunatic hubby practically annihilating Brad and me until she told him 2 lay the truck off of us. Yes, the Briggers to this very current minper R looking out 4 your hubby there astral communicator slut Nancy, leave my trucking electricity alone witch-bitch, or a huge twister, volcano, hurricane, and earthquake will strike later today, U have my trucking word on it ya turd. Yeah, asterisk, Trinidad-trinity-three intersecting lines arcing at 120 degrees, and the railroad red roulette man, and our 40th president, mister Ronald Reagan, oh sure, I am a crazy madman sitting here making all of this wild crap up in the middle of the night when I could b enjoying whipping off 2 a good naughty videotape,, think about it 4 a minper rapies and germ blows. 110 is the number of Ronald Reagan and asterisk, the huge beautiful chem trail in the skies, the mighty asterisk chem trail of December, 1969. Mayor Levy came 2C me in Ricktown Manor last night and was laughing so hard, totally busting up, telling me I am making way 2 much out of all of this. He says my queen loves me a lot, and sent Diana Arteemis around me twice over the past few days, if she did not care, she would not have done this. I told him he is right. He slapped my on the back and said not to sweat the bull so much, and then told me in his human form he is in far worse shape than I am, and Sarah Callio had nothing 2 do with it, and recently was beaten up by a very strong girl in a bar parking lot 4 mouthing off at her in the bar. He said he knows that I have a good friend in Ann and that he is aware that her daughter is living there on the grounds where he is in Seacaucus, NJUSAESMWG. I went on 2 tell him his roulette system crashed a month or so back and he roared and told me I was doing it wrong. There R3 levels I can bet on, the beginner, intermediate, or the advanced. This translate in betting amounts at the casino to either 5/25/100/300, or 10/50/200/600, or 15/75/300/900. Just move up and down the black/red, even/odd, and low/high game parameters, playing OLOBOLOB or ODD-LOW-ODD-BLACK-ODD-LOW-ODD-BLACK, etcetera, but wait for two losses 2 show up in the notes and then make the 4 bets until winning or losing the four, and splitting the greens on the higher 2 bets. Do not keep track of one OLOBOLOB pattern, but watch all over the board and usually there is a 2-loss pattern showing up, and I can sit down and play, and keep separate money-chip-piles in front of me at the roulette table instead of in different pockets and standing up squeezing in between players. Just on the Beginner level tonight I played a short while and made 400 bucks, and yesterday I played a few games when I awoke from this interaction, and made another 625 clams. Y the ex-mayor is doing me this favor, I do not know, especially after Rick and Jim and McGuire and all their buddies wrecked Sally Starr’s reputation after she called the Mayor’s office in Atlantic City in the summer of 1998, 2 complain that his lifeguard mascot went into my pants pocket on the beach and robbed me. Diana, I love U so godsdamn much my endless love, your lightning was so very beautiful, bright purple, my very favorite color, and many other lovely exquisite colors and beautiful fractal designs. I will take U2 a beautiful waterfall in either your great forests directly out beyond Olympia Proper, or in one of so many huge forests within the virtually unlimited borders of Ricktown. Thank U so much 4 loving me and living with me in the great Ricktown Manor. Now it is so clear, YI was so glued to that silly serial TV show as a boy, how much things make total sense when U get enlightened. Such as knowing the truth of how symbolism is so powerful and real and how all things are indeed energetically connected from within the quantum foams. A quick additional example would B the numbers that total up alphanumerically from the words JULY and TWELVE. U arrive at a 68 for JULY and an 87 for TWELVE. Add them and U get the #155. Now from July 12, 1970, add the months, go ahead, just add 155 months or 12 years and 11 months, and it is JUNE of 1983, when the LAMBRIGG CULT CHOKED ME TO MY DEATH, so let us discuss death and LAZAR RETRACE. U can Carry me 2 hell 2 night if U want, but I am telling. Zooming in on any living person, dead now but alive in a past world, can B done with powerful satellites, and distance delay fielding technologies not that far off in the future, B4 Star Trek time 2B honest about it. After the image is transfixed, it is literally turned into light, not broken down into particles as the Star-Trekker’s hope mankind may someday B able 2 do, the military has almost reach the 2nd of 4 phases of the technology that enables us 2 accomplish this feat. Then the image is reverse transfixed or RTF’ed and the person retraced remembers perfectly all of their entire life and memories right up 2 the point of the re-trace. The Christian scriptures indeed do mention this, but not in so many words, man made up the word rapture, it is not totally biblical, the retrace technology was known about back in King David’s time,. 4 now I simply choose 2 say no more. I could tell U so much about Deptford, New Jersey and the mighty Haddonwood, but now it has become obvious that the All Mighty chose my going there 4 a powerful reason that is known only 2 her, it is her business, not mine. She can do anything. I have seen her pick up an ocean liner and fly it over the great river at the great city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, her great city of white and purple along with millions of shades and colors far beyond mortal man’s deepest wildest imagination. I knew the Mayor of Deptford, New Jersey and worked with this boiler man in Camden, NJ, back in the early 1980’s. There R powerful reasons Y this property has lied there barren and dormant since just a year past Judah Zachary’s 1995 Dark shadows, it is beyond paranormal and esoteric, it is beyond thought, only my great queen SSJKK knows all about this, and humanly, I hope she forgives my outburst the other night, as I am so very sorry. I promise not to talk about laser trace anymore my great liner-flier. I was not flirting with any of your friends and Viqueens on the dock, I love only U, and always will. GOOGLE AND SWIS AND WORLD LABS, COPYRIGHT 2008 MICHAEL MOUNTAINPEN. This is all voluntarily sworn truth and this is a legal document, sworn under pains and penalties of full perjury charges. END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 10:05 PM No comments: Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLETuesday, June 17, 2008
Good-bye Detective Allens
Detective Allens was a fine old sole. For a time he was my ace in the hole. Now we bid him a fair adue as I leave 4 Chillie or Eastern Peru. BYE BYE 2 ALL OF U.
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 8:12 PM No comments: Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLESURREAL EQUALS MOUNTAINPEN
Surreal equals Mountainpen Still Watergate day/at night, half past 9 The Epitome of Millionth Council Harassment, and Persecution, the Internet Version, not the 1988/9 Audio-taped copyright office versions. START: The reason I know the surreal situation that I am in is 2-fold, first I am in it, and secondly, no one wishes 2 listen nor to believe my horrible plight. Even when the proof is staring everyone right in the face, the Phillies have lost a million straight games now or so 2 me it seems, the Dow Jones is up every day without exception, racing to the very stars of the sky. Everyone everywhere is living a normal life, by my comparison standards and relative ness anyway, and I have become the bum on the street in his stinky box 2B passed over and ignored and occasionally spat upon and cursed. Yet I have told the world a true story. No one wants 2 try and challenge its veracity in any legitimate manner and what it boils totally down to is that the Millionth Council has used its ultimate weapon against me, ETTOS, 2 accomplish their powerful lofty demonic diseased twisted sick goal. Again this stands 4 Electromagnetic Thought Transmission and Omission System. Not the old and feeble only, and U all know it, any age, have U ever walked into a room and totally had plucked away from U the very reason that U entered this room 2 start with, just 2 return 2 where U were and boom, it was knocked right back at U, mockingly? U know damn right well, or most of U , had this happen and on more than one freaking occasion. They control everyone’s thoughts and it was OK until we willingly accepted their invasion into our mortal worlds when we opened the door as a world society, of ELECTRONICS. Not one electrical engineer under truth serum can testify that they or any human knows exactly what all this is nor exactly how this works, NOT A ONE OFEM. On the other hand, I know exactly what is happening, and this makes me extremely dangerous, if that is, I was ever 2B permitted 2 have any large legitimate following and audience. How long can this ALEE-RUN GO ON???????? What if I told U weeks and months, and yes YEARS? Would U laugh, go ahead then laugh the truck at me, because the Dow Jones Inpusstrial Average will B 20,000 points B4 the end of the year, and 30,000 points B4 the end of this decade. I am telling U that I am there, screaming out, TOLD U, TOLD U!!!!!!!!! This is the epitome of surreal, and so is waking up in a different world than the one that U left, and books like Coral Castaneda’s great and fantastic dream books R very real and very freaking deadly and dangerous. I am very sorry, but I am going 2 have 2 say some things that people R not gonna like one whittle iota, B4 this whittle bwog terminates mister Fwudd. I have a cassette tape of a man named Scott Ransom, a licensed New Jersey Realtor, who admitted 2 me as he never would have thought that I had a hidden recorder in the car underneath the seat, and he told me that, “very powerful people R disgruntled with U, Mountainpen”. But I have more detailed confessions, but what if they R not people yet born, and what if it violates laws in the system that built all of this puke? Do U think they’ll honestly give me one chance in hot holy hell of using it in any legal proceeding? I will not lie tonight about a thing, I never lie, but I try 2 soften blows and not B as totally testy and verbally abusive as I have been known 2 get. First, I am disappointed in my queen, twice U have really hurt me, first in the 70’s and then in the now. I am not going 2 school, and U can kill me tonight 4 all I care. I refuse 2 obey. I am running far away and I am never coming back, just try and stop me. Phillies were wiped out because the MC hit the cable system tonight, hard. Now 4 my revenge. A little more info out 2 the world. Beat me up tonight if U want 2, that is your choice, but I am telling a bit of the sealed ups. The sixth dimension is way 2 huge 2 ever really discuss with intelligentsia, even a hall filled with top think tank scientists. A machine exists somewhere in D-6 that just made Joe T. Blow cough. A machine exists somewhere in D-6 that just made me itch my asshole. A machine exists somewhere in D-6 that decided once 2 put me through this hell starting on the mourning sadness of August 15th in 1986, in Raspberry TPB Valley, NJUSAESMWG. When U break down the 4 ‘stuffs’ that is all of human-type biology, it is made up of perfect tiny machines, all interacting together as cosmic numbers that R endlessly attempting 2 solve the machine in the D-6’s equation. In the 60’s, I never did. But the majority of kids experimented with acid or 25 or LSD, Doctor Hoffman’s accidental invention, and not the lady from Curtis and Rohr and Costello’s Dark Shadows. I do not need LSD to go on trips, I never did, that is YI was such a square and never messed with drugs. If I can all ready fly, Y then would I ever throw money away on a plane? It honestly is as simple Mister Henningsen from Colorado, as this, it just doesn’t go below this kin Edgartown level, kind sir. My unconscious mind on astral realms is creating a horror movie that is starring Michael Wayne Mountainpen. This show runs from early December of 1954 through the middle of June in 2031. At this point, the show is curtains. There R2 people on this planet that can erase the machinery of this in a puff without breaking a sweat, both have the hard K sound as does Krassle, and yet one has its interchanging letter. One owns a powerful group known Earthly by 6 billion souls as a religious order, while the other is only dimly aware that she is so great that she could wink and the world would go shooting out of the solar system should that b her desire. I know this, and I know what I know, and here is what all the Akoslem Bankers and Jack McCoy’s can do with their dander and whether I get it up or not, “$&*#@*Y^$&$&#&&)*@%#!@bleep bleep bloop beep ding!!!!!!!! The war on Earth is for an energy that any human can feel with every emotion they have in their being. U all know this, the 3 ways we all can basically feel at every instant of illusory forward-moving-time. U can believe all that U want, all of U, that we R fighting 4 the best business deals and lowest interest rights, 4 our cars and homes and lands and possessions, 4 our men and our women and our families, and I am telling U that all of this is proven 2B nothing more than waves and particles and the energy of the struggle is the reason 4 its existence, and it is 2 endlessly divert and distract any part of our minds from ever consciously dwelling on the reality that we simply exist and thereby no oblivion/NIRVAVA is ever attainable and reachable!!!!!! This is Y games came to the Romans from THEIR GODS, and we still have them and more than ever, while the BRIGGBASE owners of our entertainment world rapidly is spinning us all out of control and forever into their sick and lost twisted domain of HELL. END.
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 7:25 PM No comments: Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE, government persecution in leagueastral projection dreams paranormal aliens millionth councilRelating
’ RELATING’ BLOG-BOOK-TEOHIV/TIMCAM WATERGATE DAY, JUNE 17TH 2008 ADEG CALENDARS BEGINNING TRANSMISSION: It is half past three in the afternoon, on this Tuesday. Planes and chem trails R off the scales bad again this week, they R all over and everywhere, all around me, and again I am facing continuing brutal siege and attack, and getting pummeled and stalked and hammered endlessly the Lambrigg Cult of the great Millionth Council. The Camden County Prosecutor back in the days that the word internet and information-highway were practically as new as a baby’s bottom, and inventor-Gore, Supposedly, was our Vice President, and times were getting strange but had not arrived there totally as yet, helped me play a game with MCBC, he got into chat rooms or places on this new amusement and without ever giving me specific details, always keeping things just aloof enough with me so that I never was really able to fully read Ron Wirtz totally or partially nor ever truthfully ascertain what he allegedly was doing to try and help me with my ‘problem’, but he did inform me that ‘they’ were answering back and playing sort of a game with us and he thought and I quote Mr. RW of the great CCPO right around the times that the mid west area was experiencing the great flooding of 1993, as then, and still today, U can bet your bottom dollar that the cause of it is the great MAGNESONIC, he said to me on a few occasions, “they R playing along and communicating with me, mostly making smiley faces at me. I know little of internet policies and regs but anyone can go colon key followed by the caps raised nine or zero to make the original smiley and sadey. Word documents on computers change it to the face, but it always meant the face aniwho. Also, U can do more through private chat to e-mail and on and on, I know few details, I do not have this machine to sit around wasting my time on silly ventures. All I know is that “he said” he was in contact with ‘them’, and that he was able to learn that indeed they were messing with me and had a code name 4 me at the time on the net, and this name was the Greek writer/philosopher, Sophocles. When I later tried to check with recently make friends at the Berlin Radio, not shop, SHACK, another of my many PBHE’s. Again this stands 4 Prior Blogging Hacks/Errors, but the computer people that sold me my first computer in 1997, checked and said it was baloney, and that this cowboy, a lot like his predecessor Aspell, I swear that between these 2 dudes at Camden County Prosecutor’s Office and Mark Furhman out in OJLA directly in-between all what led up 2 my first purchase of a PC and my attempt to make something happen 2 get me out of my nightmare, I am left with more than planted bloody gloves in my lawn, but find instead, a total mistrust of my elected and appointed officials, from the police right down to the President. I bring legitimate proof of a major attack to the Voorhees Police Station and they make me a deal that if I voluntarily go to the Cherry Hill/Raspberry Valley Crises Center for an evaluation, this will pump up my credibility and then they will do something with the evidence I brought them involving the cassette tape with the horrific cursing and bomb threat that I told U all about on a recent blog document. So far today they woke me up shitting myself, and again with a huge civil rights noise violation, someone right outside my residence blasting filthy demonic loud thumping music straight from Satan-Donna herself. Yesterday Ann and I went to the shore, she made a 20 dollar contribution to Paris Hilton’s daddy, and then we hit the beach for 2 hours, B4 the storm started 2 blow up. All week and last week as well, sky attack is brutal, the Muzak and giant girl attack also is brutal, and always seem 2 go together. I could go on. What I want to do now if anyone is ever out there, and if there is not, explain 2 things 2 me, BEARDED BOB??????? Explain the great New York City newspaper’s huge printing of the letters EWI, right after my blogging discussions of EWI, the abbreviated letters 4 EXISTENCE WITHOUT INTERACTION, or the great VOID INFINITY. Also, sir, explain Jason Cali. No there R readers coming up here, and I would B a fool 2 totally listen 2U, sir!!!!! But a book that I recently finished, makes me come 2C Mr. Johnny Nash, very clearly now, SIR, that I can remove even more obstacles that R in my way in my mission 2 tell the people of the world what is going on in my life and what I have experienced and know 2B totally real and non-imaginary, by RELATING more 2 them and their much more ‘ordinary’ lives. Pweeeeeze don’t tell whittle pathetic me that none of U have ever had wild and very vivid dreams, or that U have never gotten out of bed and everything went wrong all day long to the point that even thought U may never dare voice the opinion 4 fear of public ridicule and ostracize, that U know deep down that something more than this is just happening must B going through your head when it starts 2 get overly absurd and ridiculous. U know that without some outer external other than the norm force acting upon U personally and your day as it moves along the STC, that no possible explanation could B there. The last time I went to the beach or the first time this season, about a week ago, with my friend Ann Silva, I am walking from my beach chair towards the edge of the water, purposely waiting 4 a total lull in the population around me so that just such an occurrence that now I am about 2 describe would not B able 2 happen to harass and oppress me, only it still happened. Not a soul was around, not one single solitary Lawtron-Counterpart, (soul). It took at the most, as we had our umbrella/chairs together at maximum, say 40 feet from where the water was. Out of literally nowhere, a gang of females between 18 and 30 and I mean a gang of giant queens, all being way over 6 feet tall, were all right in my way as I was attempting to get into the sea and away from this annoying harassment. Have U ever gone totally out of YOUR way to avoid your boss or anybody, and I mean in a big way, and U walk into a 7-11 store that U never have gone into B4, and glaring at U at the checkout area, who is there but ‘bossy’ waiting 2 yell over at U, thought U called out sick today, prevaricator? My blogs tell too much me-me-me-me, and do not attempt 2 relate to all of UUUUUUUUUUU, and it took a while 4 the light to pop on, actually this book was half of the enlightenment, and the other half was none other than NJJCK’s daughter in her present STC form, and she knows what I am referring 2, I am sitting here last night tired and desiring 2 blog when I looked over at her 2 recent projects that I purchased at the Cranberryville, Wall Mart store, and the one on top just hit my eye, and my mind, and I said to myself, yeah, she is telling U2 relate more to the average person, stop the me-me–me-me only stuff, as life is more than mathematical equations. Again my thanks great Queen, and U rule 4 ever and ever. From now on, unless totally impossible to do as will B in some instances obviously, I’ll B darn sure 2 tie a comparison together so that ordinary people not suffering in an endless tormented hell on Earth, will B able 2 hopefully anyway, better relate. Did any of U chem-trail researchers know that my story is there of how I seemingly started this chem trail phenomenon with one call to the Mount Laurel Police station ion the late autumn of 1987, and that back in middle December in 1969, the first huge one was visible all over Camden County, and was made somewhere between Collingswood, Oaklyn, Haddonfield, Audubon, Westmont, towns, and spread throughout Camden County. It was the most awesome gorgeous thing that U could ever have witnesses, and as group needs 2 form B4 we all R dead, that remembers this and witnessed it, in and from this area. DOW JONES FOREVER SHOOTING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP!!!!!!! PHILLIES FOREVER LOSING AND LOSING AND LOSING AND LOSING!!! Told U all that this would happen based on the ever-expanding harassing hell and vitriolic persecution that the MILLIONTH COUNCIL is forever forcing me 2 endure. Did U know that others by the tens of thousands right here in America, R now as scared and angry about these viscous chem trails as I am, visit 10 great sites, start with http://www.chemtrailcentral.com and there R lots of great sites, such as this other one, http://www.chembusters.com and some of these doctors R recognized health care professionals that just in this recent last 10 years R totally saying and agreeing with stuff I have been saying since late in the 1980’s. I talked about how leaves and autumn foliage is getting later as is arriving at full size leaf in the springtime by more than one day a year since the mid nineteen sixties. Now, U hear this by recognized science community doctorate graduates, along with Global warming and trapped carbon dioxide emissions. http://www.morianity-foundation.com is not gonna B there after the oh-eight summer, it is only a $150 job, it was all I could afford 2 pay a man 2 do 4 me, but it tells truths that not only U all need to hear and FEAR, but also, recognize B4 it is 2 late, that if prevented, dooms can B averted. I never went 4 that saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, with me personally it always has been closer to a megaton of cure, what has been your spin, tell me? I want 2 help myself and everyone else right along with me, but most people R living just better than me by enough so that they refuse 2 even try to take blinders off and ear plugs out and C and hear 4 the first time that maybe, just freaking maybe, Morianity has a major message. But 4 those interested in things not so nice, these websites R not there 2 promote the rights of a pedophile or anything like that. Some have accused me of this 4 just daring 2B honest. What happens in a dream is not prosecutable in this world, not even in this vastly approaching Nazi-Germany-America. Kids under 40 and especially under 30 have no clue of living in basically a free country really is, they never have, where us old smells have and we know better. Sol when I tell U about Krassleville on a website, I am not advocating filthy behavior. My mom said it so well over and over, this is Earth, not Heaven, and we behave one way here and one way there, in the heavenly’s or the Astral Plane. Until UC that time is an illusion on this realm, and relate it back to this mortal life and judge from there, U just do not C truth. When I say that Washington, DC has a 13 year age of consent, I am stating a fact that politicians obviously want their environment to permit their filthy promiscuous behavior on the Earth Worlds, this is not tolerated by good wholesome people and I was demonstrating the simple point that double standards exist and YI do not ever vote. It would B a totally wasted effort 2 vote by my way of observing this entire larger view. Every vote counts, and I choose 2 vote for none of them, I am indeed a voter. I love this fucking country, WHAT IT ONCE WAS, WHAT IT ONCE STOOD 4 AND REPRESENTED, F R E E D O M. Today, since decades of total controlled-manipulation by the EVIL THIRD of the MC, the Lambrigg-Cult, since the invasion that started in the 1800’s with the birth of ELECTRONICS, and boy did the fucking Native Americans know all of this, and we would not listen for a pound of jewels, and ever since, it now is a one way trip straight to DOGTOWN. Mortal world is HELL. Unconscious collective of the human race, I politely demand, NOT REQUEST, that U all raise your awareness towards conscious level waking omniscience by 10 degrees as this instantly and ELECTRONICALLY posts up through this system. Harold Camping of Family Stations Incorporated is correct 100% on one thing he claims, as I TOTALLY RELATE, and have, ALL THE DAYS OF MY HAMBERGER LIVES, 2 what he claims about his very recent new revelation. No the mighty holy words of SSJKK have not nor will, WVER ALTER, they R fixed on a Lawtronic level, and she changes NOT. But over the past few decades, the parabolic curve of change is major. Societies change and so do people attempting to reach spiritual enlightenment. It is moving faster and faster, as they out of control like a roller coaster with broken breaks on a planet with 5 times that of Earth’s gravity, or 5G. But UR not, SIR, the only one on mortal land EARTH, capable of moving towards this, nor do U have any true memories as do I of my existence there with her. Maybe in 2012 or 2913, U just might listen to MORIANITY, and relate, I have also been wrong, but this time I am not. U want blanket-Krassle-truth, fine. I will give it 2U and all of U. If UR following the word she had written, the holy bible of the Christian faith, the best all though not 100%+ accurate but close enough is the KJV. If U do not violate one thing ever, U can move into a spiritual experience with this mighty being that is totally awesome and unfathomable. The Lawtronics R simple, nothing can B in violation of any of her great mighty truths, SHE RULES. If I am in a night dream or a day dream, U know there, fellow relaters, the teacher shouted your name and after the 4th time loudly U jump out of your seat, as U simply were not there, but off soul-traveling as the mighty ECKNKAR sound and light religion teaches. Whether I was in pajamas with eyes closed or not, matters none, what only matters ever is, was any of it in biblical violation. If U ever think SSJKK is telling U to do anything against any of the 10 commandments that make up basically any law that mankind could ever impose on a governing society, UR hearing her WRONG, this is LAWTRONICS, this is FACT. This is total absolute inviolate TRUTH. Now I was moved 2 stop blogging last winter and break off with Pervo-Eddie-H. Then 70 days or whatever Congy, I suddenly was just out-of-the-blue-led 2 resume the blogging and buy the computer. If anything I was more in debt, not less after the passage of these 70 or so days after I had quit. The lousy 300 smacks from not the burning, but the other Bush, barely paid for a third of the expense, do not get me wrong, I appreciate it, but I think without the amount being at least 5-10 times more than 300 Jaylo-Jane-Press-1-smacks per person when the dollar is just about at paper-worth aniwho, basically did the economic stimulus and growth a heavy long run disfavor, this is just my opinion. Hay, relate, comment, I am interested, but 4 me, it paid 4 one third of my needed computer and all the software, printers, and parts, that all go along with it and yet R by no means included in the price, at least not at Staples Store, no it was not easy, and I AM BROKE AS PISS. 4 me this stimulus package was a joke, but thank U mister President 4 at least making the effort. Yes great queen, U rule, and always have and always will, U rule this empire, not the MILLIONTH COUNCIL, MC. Like the great Dr. Camping the genius engineer from Cali, look me up after eleven comes and GOES, and we can relate. Donna asked me YI wrote 1992 min my lyrics, with me, it was 4 different reasons, at the time my thing was not spiritual, I just wanted 2 get powerful and rich like any other quarter century old man with life ahead of him, now that has all gone the way of a fast spinning globe. The day B4 the Sky-tower ride, or Scylla’s Tower, in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, I walked under Schiff’s Central Pier and was heading south. It was 9 in the morning, perhaps earlier, and as I walked, I know that I had sufficiently ducked my head down low enough so as 2 avoid hitting the cement beam, or so I thought. The next thing I knew, as the Boxing industry describes it so eloquently, I was shaking off some heavy cob webs, and I was not wearing a watch, but a clock was digitally displayed on the side of the pier at the time, and I went 2 look at it and instantly knew that a good 20 minutes and perhaps more had gotten away from me. I went 4 a quick swim B4 the guards were totally on duty, and then went back to Cornwall Avenue to swim some more, south of there in Ventnor, when I was staying at the molester’s place in 1970. That evening I hopped on the Jitney-bus and went north back up into Atlantic City, and this is where I got on the amusement ride called the Sky-Tower. I will never know whether my Highview Apartment interaction up in 1996 fits into this as the catalyst that caused the time illusion motion, or whether the newspaper actually was folded up many times and indeed hidden in a small box inside of the car somewhere. I only know that the United States Military went nuts on me after I purchased it, and every single time that I took this warrantied vehicle back 2 the dealership to have mileage routine maintenance work performed on it, hay, just what were they worried so much that some duosh bag mechanic might find? I will tell U the real real real mechanic story some day, and how it fits together twice with the All Mighty. B4 anyone doubts Morianity, U would B strongly advised to take into account that it is 4 your benefit as well as mine that U open up your mind, and I will then return the favor, and as I continue along with my story, will try much harder 2 relate parts of it 2 things that will B more relatable 2 all of U in your own lives and interactions and dealings with this mortal world life that UR able 2 remember, called the here and now by some. Copyright Michael W. Mountainpen, and once I print out all of the URL system, next week or this one, it is all going for copyright registration. It is time 4 Washington, DC to know a little more truth about the world that they all R forever and endlessly stuck and trapped in, without memory to any of it except 4 the very basic here-and-now of it. Copyrighted 2008, the invert year of other quite major copyrighted material from the great room in the Franklin sun, 1802 Robin Hill, of Whore Squeeze Township Blue Nerdsey, USAESMWG. GOOGLE AND SWIS AND WORLD LABS OF 2300, this is all sworn voluntarily, it is a legal document and a dying mans utterance and declaration. All murderers of me and my mom and friend DCR, all R listed in these 5 blogs somewhere, they all R instrumental in varying degrees, of causing premeditated miseries leading to tortuous horrible deaths of me and mom and David Roth. Under pains and penalties of perjury, I sear this is truth, absolute total truth, no omissions nor deletions to this truth R found therein on this official document.
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 2:51 PM No comments: Labels: “Millionth-Council” “government-persecution” “astral-worlds”Monday, June 16, 2008
short blog #10
SHORT BLOG 10 TEOHIV/TIMCAM BLOG-BOOK TIME IS ONT REAL SO WHO CARES NOTHING REALLY BEGINS OR ENDS, LIKE MY INFINITE HELL: Well giant Gina, am I right when I am right or snot, big lovely queen? Told U the ALEE would score with a FULL EVIL SPORTSPIRE ALL WEEKEND, the weekly score, ALEE-450. Maybe some one in the fucking Federal Bureau of Investigation, in-between workouts in the gym over in Philly, might take me seriously when this goes fucking on and on week after week or until I am dead, witch-ever comes 1st. Gina told me how powerful she was, and when she broke my arm, arm-wrestling, back in 97, she gave me that cute little look and voice saying, “told-ya. Well, Gina my giant cutie pie, I TOLD U. They insured their cheated loss of my Phillies today with that major computer quack-hack, Stacey=L, jack-hack-attack!!!!!! Lenny the gunman, FBI, that I told U about, was all B4 gangster rap. If this does not stop, I will have 2 do something that will force the authorities 2 look into my situation, as if they prosecute me, I get 2 mount a fucking DEFENSE, this is not going 2 go on much fucking longer, bwewieve me bwaby-wuv. Copyright Michael W. Mountainpen, whose first amendment rights under the US constitution were severely violated today, 4 the 5,985rd time or so, but who the fuck is counting, Petofi??????????
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 12:48 AM No comments: Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLESunday, June 15, 2008
hacking and prison
if u r listening blogger dot com, someone is violating my fucking rights unless u r having a problem with the site, how am i supposed 2 know. I cannot view any of my blogs, it will not let me, and someone is fucking illegally with my drunkenhive hyperlink also, this is a violation of my right to free speech guaranteed me under the damn constitution of thew united fucking states of America.
Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 7:28 AM No comments: Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE, government persecution in league with the millionth council
I DO NOT LIKE VANISHING, NOT WHEN I KNOW WHO AND WHAT IS AND HAS BEEN HEHIND THIS BULLSHIT ALL THIS TIME, OR SHOULD I SAY, ETERNITY? ONLY I KNOW!
MANY WONDER, IS THE ANSWER REALLY THE QUESTION, WELL, READ A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ME, BUT NOT ON SOME SILLY LITTLE BIO QUICKIE.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
MORIANITY-4—SUPER SUPER SUPER SUPER BOTBAR, RIGHT GIANT GINA, TOLD YOU SO
MORIANITY-4
SUPER SRPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, MARCH IS THE WORST FUCKING CUNT MONTH I HAVE HAD IN YEARS
6:12 PM-EST, MARCH 5, 2013 AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
RED ALERT—RED ALERT—RED—ALERT—RED-ALERT—RED ALERT
I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,
I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS.
My scum bag nabes will be reported to Debbie Marotto on Friday when she is here, and I am e-mailing her later this evening, as next Monday I must be in her office for my annual re-certification. This Monday I had my inspection, and it took place while I was out at my doctor, taking care of business and straightening out once and for all, my need to take the medication that I have taken now for coming up on 30 years, almost to the fucking cock licking day.
MAGNESONIC, SCAN OPEN COMMAND ON G-7, ALL MY ENEMIES FOR TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT, ALL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES. ALL PERSONS WHO WANT ME DEAD AND DESTROYED, SCAN AND DESTROY BOTH THEM and ALL OF THEIR EVIL ROTTEN WICKED LOVED ONES. I HAVE YOU AT MAX OUT POWER LEVELS, AND YOU ARE BEING SET ON AN ‘I’ TO ‘D’ A/B-TONE PPSS, OFF OF THE ‘JNN’ POSITION ON YOUR DESIRE KEY. ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK IS A SCANNED IMAGE OBJECT (IO) AND IS CRUSHED AND SINGED AND OBLITERATED, AND IS AWAITING TRANSPOWERIZATION. HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW THROUGH MY BRAIN AS THE LONG-E-SOUND:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
G-901, G-189, UNDER G-1133, CG-18, AND – S—-T—-O—-P!
THIS WORLD THIS YEAR, WILL EXPERIENCE HURRICANES AND TWISTERS AND WILDFIRES AND FLOODS AND MUCH MORE, LIKE NEVER BEFORE. I WILL BE RERECORDING ANALOGUE TRANSDIMENSIONAL MUSIC OVER AND OVER UNTIL THE ONLY THING LEFT STANDING, IS THE HALF ASS FUCKING EGOS OF THE TRUMPS AND THE KENNEDYS AND SO FORTH, ALL ELSE WILL BECOME A FUCKING RUBBLE PILE OF PURE SQUAT. STILL FOLKS, AND MY LOVELY GIANT GINA, PLEASE REMEMBER FOLKS THAT I DID INDEED,
TELL YOU THAT ALL OF THIS WOULD HAPPEN ON THE STOCK MARKET, JUST REREAD MY BLOGS, AND GEE FOLKS, THE PROPHET OF NOTHING IS 100% RIGHT, DEMANDS HIS FUCKING PROPS, AND KNEW ALL THIS WAS MY FUCKING DOOMED DESTINY ALL ALONG, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL. I HOPE YOU’LL TRY AND SAVE MY LIFE. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TRIED TO FUCKING RUN AWAY FROM THIS EVIL NATION A LONG TIME AGO, NOW IT’S TOO FUCKING LATE, HUH ISIS?????????? WELL YOU WERE A REAL PROPHET TOO, AND A LOT PRETTIER THAN I WILL EVER HOPE TO BE, WOW!
MORIANITY-4
SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR TIMES TWO AND MPB 67% FOR FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MARCH, A DEATH BLOW FOR ME
Well folks, I AM A FUCKING DEAD MAN. A MAJOR FUCKING SYSTEMS-CRASH, AND A LOSS OF 28 AND A HALF MOTHER FUCKING UNITS TOOK PLACE, AND ALL BECAUSE THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE DESTEROYED MY WEEKEND AND DESTROYED MY FUCKING LUCK-FORCE; exactly as that crooked bastard gaming and entertainment giant DONALD TRUMP, knows works, had his peeps stop me at his hotel that summer day in 1986, to ask me shit about PARALLEL EVENT, and he has been wiping me out continuously ever since, so that I never can take any of his gaming chips away from him. You would think he would do what other casinos do, just mother fucking bar you from entering, but no, not poor me, not Huntington mother fucking cursed little woe with me, no he has to fucking get all of his buddies in the government and the military service, to PERSECUTE AND ENDLESSLY PUMMEL AND HARASS ME UNTIL THE FUCKING DIE THAT EITHER I DIE, OR THAT BAG OF MAGGOTS DOES. Now I am 4 and a half units behind where I was during the past SYSTEMS CRASH, and I tried playing all afternoon long, on many wheels, and just keep getting fucking cunt lapping hammered to death!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This evil man is 1000 times more sinister than the rest of the ENTIRE MCGUIRE CLAN FROM HELL.
The mother fucking cock sucking jerk off knows I have no legal way of proving the dilemma that he and his pals have placed me in since August 15 of 1986, nothing I have will stand up in court, other than for a deathbed confession that came to me at a Publix Grocery Store a short while back, that I feel is more hoax than real, and refuse to get my fucking hopes up, as every single time I ever do, they are fucking dashed into pure fucking dogshit. Fucking cunt lapping Microsucks Hell-wrecker Spellchecker blows, I had to try lots of combinations before I finally spelled the word ‘dilemma’ correctly, it was of no help at all. What the fucking shit else is god dam new. Well folks, I knew when I had the fucking ISIS revelation, I WAS A SCREWED MOTHER FUCKER. After-all, look at how my life changed in middle 2008 when I began to remember my relatives up on that mother fucking island, and things went down hill real fucking fast from there, and if anyone out here thinks that I’m enjoying one sick twisted screwed up part of this shit with her and her teenaged games, you’re all as wrong as anti-rain, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEE.
(WATCH THE DOW JONES FLY UP 1600 POINTS THIS WEEK).
How about when Darius Evans was over here in late November somewhere, he and his pals rap under the rapper name of ”DEEZY SLIM”, and have a great and really cool Youtube page, and we went to type in at the MICROSOFT GOOGLE WORLD OWNER/CONTROLLER INTERCONNECTED NETWORKING COMPUTER SYSTEM, AT THE SEARCH BOX, JUST THE WORDS ”PHOTOS”, and instantly what popped up without my ever ever ever Googling anything about any of this, but ”Mariah Carey’s Twins”. Then a few days back, I typed in Godd, getting that far, and the entire box filled in all by itself, adding in ESS ISIS, making GODDESS ISIS. THEY know everybody’s entire life, I have even heard that they read every piece of our electronic mail so that they can target their advertising towards things we do and talk about online. Is this going too far? Well peeps,m I really am not a very good judge, and you will all need to make these wise or unwise choices all for yourselves someday, most likely a day when it will all be way too late, Ernie Isis Merker, but that said and aside, YO, I cannot speak, as I AM way too fucking prejudice on the subject of freedom. I will not USE A CELL PHONE, I WILL NOT JOIN THIS SOCIAL MEDIA EXPLOSION OF F,T,Y, ETCETERA, and will have all my fucking lousy junk off the system when I can pay to have my pal Ryan over at Bon Jovi’s place, the Avalon Studio of PSL, Florida, and pay for my CD of the fisherman song done almost a year ago now, called, ”You’ll Be Crossing Over”. I just mailed in my final 72nd automobile payment, this leaves me with 2,900 dollars annually now, to save for a Chapter-7-Bankruptcy; and go get my final project from the Avalon Studio. There will be no more music ever done by me. My art is private, and is my own fucking cunt business. Aniha to the standards of this new age messy world and 21st century, it stinks and sucks anyway, or as Red John might put it in the case of my kid, a cheap techno-pop imitation, that was not appreciated by her; so it will all be coming down. The old days when these kind of things were interesting, is gone and over; and I must now move into these new times, lest I mother fucking perish from the face of the Earth. I will say that my overnight sent letter to the State AG Office, did the trick with my blogger account, FOR NOW. IHATE YOU SATAN.
WATCH THAT DOW JONES FLY AND FLY AND FLY, MY GINA!!!
SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR TIMES TWO AND MPB 67% FOR FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MARCH, A DEATH BLOW FOR ME
Well folks, I AM A FUCKING DEAD MAN. A MAJOR FUCKING SYSTEMS-CRASH, AND A LOSS OF 28 AND A HALF MOTHER FUCKING UNITS TOOK PLACE, AND ALL BECAUSE THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE DESTEROYED MY WEEKEND AND DESTROYED MY FUCKING LUCK-FORCE; exactly as that crooked bastard gaming and entertainment giant DONALD TRUMP, knows works, had his peeps stop me at his hotel that summer day in 1986, to ask me shit about PARALLEL EVENT, and he has been wiping me out continuously ever since, so that I never can take any of his gaming chips away from him. You would think he would do what other casinos do, just mother fucking bar you from entering, but no, not poor me, not Huntington mother fucking cursed little woe with me, no he has to fucking get all of his buddies in the government and the military service, to PERSECUTE AND ENDLESSLY PUMMEL AND HARASS ME UNTIL THE FUCKING DIE THAT EITHER I DIE, OR THAT BAG OF MAGGOTS DOES. Now I am 4 and a half units behind where I was during the past SYSTEMS CRASH, and I tried playing all afternoon long, on many wheels, and just keep getting fucking cunt lapping hammered to death!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This evil man is 1000 times more sinister than the rest of the ENTIRE MCGUIRE CLAN FROM HELL.
The mother fucking cock sucking jerk off knows I have no legal way of proving the dilemma that he and his pals have placed me in since August 15 of 1986, nothing I have will stand up in court, other than for a deathbed confession that came to me at a Publix Grocery Store a short while back, that I feel is more hoax than real, and refuse to get my fucking hopes up, as every single time I ever do, they are fucking dashed into pure fucking dogshit. Fucking cunt lapping Microsucks Hell-wrecker Spellchecker blows, I had to try lots of combinations before I finally spelled the word ‘dilemma’ correctly, it was of no help at all. What the fucking shit else is god dam new. Well folks, I knew when I had the fucking ISIS revelation, I WAS A SCREWED MOTHER FUCKER. After-all, look at how my life changed in middle 2008 when I began to remember my relatives up on that mother fucking island, and things went down hill real fucking fast from there, and if anyone out here thinks that I’m enjoying one sick twisted screwed up part of this shit with her and her teenaged games, you’re all as wrong as anti-rain, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEE.
(WATCH THE DOW JONES FLY UP 1600 POINTS THIS WEEK).
How about when Darius Evans was over here in late November somewhere, he and his pals rap under the rapper name of ”DEEZY SLIM”, and have a great and really cool Youtube page, and we went to type in at the MICROSOFT GOOGLE WORLD OWNER/CONTROLLER INTERCONNECTED NETWORKING COMPUTER SYSTEM, AT THE SEARCH BOX, JUST THE WORDS ”PHOTOS”, and instantly what popped up without my ever ever ever Googling anything about any of this, but ”Mariah Carey’s Twins”. Then a few days back, I typed in Godd, getting that far, and the entire box filled in all by itself, adding in ESS ISIS, making GODDESS ISIS. THEY know everybody’s entire life, I have even heard that they read every piece of our electronic mail so that they can target their advertising towards things we do and talk about online. Is this going too far? Well peeps,m I really am not a very good judge, and you will all need to make these wise or unwise choices all for yourselves someday, most likely a day when it will all be way too late, Ernie Isis Merker, but that said and aside, YO, I cannot speak, as I AM way too fucking prejudice on the subject of freedom. I will not USE A CELL PHONE, I WILL NOT JOIN THIS SOCIAL MEDIA EXPLOSION OF F,T,Y, ETCETERA, and will have all my fucking lousy junk off the system when I can pay to have my pal Ryan over at Bon Jovi’s place, the Avalon Studio of PSL, Florida, and pay for my CD of the fisherman song done almost a year ago now, called, ”You’ll Be Crossing Over”. I just mailed in my final 72nd automobile payment, this leaves me with 2,900 dollars annually now, to save for a Chapter-7-Bankruptcy; and go get my final project from the Avalon Studio. There will be no more music ever done by me. My art is private, and is my own fucking cunt business. Aniha to the standards of this new age messy world and 21st century, it stinks and sucks anyway, or as Red John might put it in the case of my kid, a cheap techno-pop imitation, that was not appreciated by her; so it will all be coming down. The old days when these kind of things were interesting, is gone and over; and I must now move into these new times, lest I mother fucking perish from the face of the Earth. I will say that my overnight sent letter to the State AG Office, did the trick with my blogger account, FOR NOW. IHATE YOU SATAN.
WATCH THAT DOW JONES FLY AND FLY AND FLY, MY GINA!!!
Sunday, March 3, 2013
MORIANITY-4—PRETENDING I DO NOT HAVE INTERNET AGAIN
MORIANITY-4
PRETENDING I DO NOT HAVE INTERNET AGAIN
03/03/13, EARLY ON SUNDAY MORNING, CHILLY IN
FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, 42 AND GOING DOWN TO
HIGH TWENTIES WIND CHILL NEXT TWO NITES, WOW
BEAUTIFUL COLD WEATHER, REMINDS ME OF HOME
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your interest in Morianity. This would never had become a reality, except for a coworker at a security guard job in 2005, named Christopher Bennett, who told me after he learned a little bit about my personal troubles and woes, that internet blogging might just resolve my problems, as exposing the evil deed doers may make them go away. After I began doing the blogging from my local library, I was shortly introduced to a patron who came in to use his laptop to connect into their WIFI system so he could do music downloads. He went on to design a very nice website for me for a reasonable $150.00, called Morianity-Foundation. It is no longer up on the net as it was an annual 45 bucks or so to maintain, and I am a very poverty stricken individual because some one or some thing, captain JTK has gone out of their way for nearly 60 years to intentionally make sure they are indeed keeping me in this down and out condition, no matter what I ever try and attempt doing to get myself out of it. In any event, all that happened is that things got much worse, not better at all, but a hell of a lot worse. If I could go back through time and remain in this dimension which is not possible, but if it were, I would relive just the time of early 2006, and never ever touch a computer or the net. But as my wonderful daughter puts it so very well, ”TOO LATE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for the title of this blog, I am not going to post this right now. I will use this as I was doing before, while I was on that short off grid down time; merely use my open office 3.1 system and this keyboard, to keep a record of my life and the incidents, and say whatever thoughts I feel compelled to type in about any and all things morianity-related, and at a later time when I feel like it, post it all up as one blog of multiple times that were individually done separately.
Here is the SATURDAY situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Major persecution from noise in the neighborhood all day long, took place, causing me a nasty mother fucking botbar day, and one for two for the fucking month of dirt bag good old March-Sadness. I do not like being fucking 50% BOTBAR of MPB, for a month, not one fucking tiny little ass bit, YO. At a later time, I’ll type in the MPB for the first sixth of this 2013 year, or the months of January and February. As for breaking down the day into accurate accounting of the pummeling that I received, I had multiple fire alarms, super loud emergency vehicle sirens blasting right outside my window, in and out neighbors with music, doors, and loud voices, and this began as early as midnight and went on until after 2 in the morning, starting up shortly after 8 when the first fire alarm went mother fucking off. Shit went on all mother fucking day long, and if Sunday is as bad as Saturday, I’ll be contacting the fucking Florida State Attorney General’s Office, and speaking to our beautiful Attorney General, about how I AM being persecuted to death, and explain this crime in vivid detail, even though she won’t believe me, it still will be more fucking exposure, to quote Chris Bennett, Dave Roth, and others who believed that exposing this monster nightmare is the only possible way of reducing its strength levels against me, even if only fucking temporarily. Two weekends in a row I’ve contended with the music again, still, nowhere as bad as it used to be, but I know they have that box in that apartment, and eventually if they are caught in an inspection, this will violate a major PHA rule, as if you are told to remove something from your place, you must do so. So in any event, I’ll close for now and crash for the night, and will resume blogging onto this document, until I decide to post it. Also, I made three units yesterday and three units the day before that, on my systems roulette. One may have been 3.5, I do not remember the exact crap, other than two days back on Friday evening, I was cremated by the house vig, or the take would have been about double, around 7 units, but the greens came in hot and fucking heavy, as they tend to do on overall average, during the stronger siege times, and for obvious reasons, that many pro gamblers already understand without me getting into the full particulars now about it, and is why on any staged up betting systems, house vig greens should always be covered, and is how I made a lot on major siege days back in 1986 when all this shit was getting fucking started between the Milituforce and myself at those times.
OK, it is shortly into the second half of Sunday now, and they are giving me a weekend every bit as fucked up as last one, TO ENSURE THAT THEY ARE FINALLY GETTING ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS ON THEIR EVIL WICKED FUCKING DOW JONES STOCK MARKET. At half past twelve, still yet another FIRE ALARM went off. OK, they have an excuse too, being the first weekend of a new month, it very well be that many new residents are living in this building, unaware of how easily these things go fucking off. Oh well, unlike yesterday, within five minutes, the fire engine trucks got here and deactivated the horrendous monstrous fucking noise. It is now 12:37 PM and quiet again, on this Sunday afternoon, on the third day of this sadness BB-BALL third rotten month. Here we go, just as with yesterday, loud shouting dirt balls outside my door, right as soon as the fire alarm went off. All odds are, these pricks over there are doing this over and over, and not some new resident. These trash ass bastards are really starting up again this weekend, Debbie Marotto, and I will be seeing you because I received your notice in the door slots of my appointment with you for annual Public Housing Re-certification, and I’ll be there to really complain about recent shit. I’ll also be telling you that some nasty hocus pocus is going on with Mister Dell the guard. He is either intentionally avoiding me, or is no longer doing his shift. On four separate occasions now, I have gone down to try and talk to him while he supposedly is on duty between 11 at night and 3 in the morning, and it is all quiet and no one is at the desk. This has gone on now since Presidents’ Day Holiday, of two mother fucking weeks ago. If he is seeing me on the camera, leaving my unit and walking down the hallway towards the elevator and grabbing his stuff and running into his nearby first floor apartment each time, that is not very nice at all, and otherwise, we have no guard covering this graveyard four hour part of the shift, and for two weeks now, so you’ll be made aware and I know you will check on this. Either way, for not helping me, he will catch heat for what he is doing, and he should. On a previous blog I meant to type in ‘fall down dead’, not fall down down, which would make absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever. This is what I mean by either a ‘MIND-HACK’ or a ‘MACHINE-HACK’, good people and sheeple.
Sheriff Mascara, Please try and look out for me a little while, as last time I typed this message for you, things did quiet down wonderfully for me for a couple of days, and freaking sir, I’ll take anything I can get. When you are freaking me, a few breadcrumbs become a real banquet feast, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, here we go again, Marcus and McGinty; all of us poor little helpless and defenseless picked on ‘new kids in town’ from 1978, being pummeled and persecuted and viciously harassed. I don’t expect any assistance from you guys, one is too wealthy and they hate the poor folks like me, and the other was threatened by his wife and his cousin-lawyer from Atlantic city, to not listen to my story, that back in 1977, they all seemed so dying to mother fucking know and hear when I made like a clam and just did my job and went home, at the Mars Graphics Print Shop, in Westville, New Jersey. Don’t go getting gout on my account, old ex friends, YO. Tim Barbers wife, well,, what I just said as well to you too, right James Potter Stuart. You of all peeps know how bad shit can all keep ganging up on you and making you need to jump into a raging river with a tall glass of liquor in your hand, hoping you won’t burn in the fire in a minute afterward, with old Lestercan McKinnon, or maybe, not so old in present human form. Wow do these two monsters seem to really fucking hate my guts. Take heart, my engineer will try and remove all of this garbage off of the tub4e and close down all of my6 social medial networking sites once and for all, in early May when I go over next to pay him for that song done nearly a year ago.
My dirt bag enemies have fixed it so I will have my fucking sleep broken up for a solid week. First helping Mikey was a pleasure, but not being a morning person, I had to get up earlier than I normally do and readjust my personal habit schedule for three days, from Wednesday through Friday, then the fire alarms have awakened me all throughout this weekend just like last one, on Saturday and Sunday, and then tomorrow Monday, s a morning PH Inspection as well as am afternoon medical appointment, so for 6 straight days, I have not had a good sleep, and this is getting, as Dawn-Marie King might put it if alive, ”ON MY LAST FUCKING NERVE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It is one in the afternoon, and I have decided to post up. There goes that fucking dirt bag biker outside Sheriff, at least he has muffled his pipes a little more towards legal road standards. Sorry to hear about the Deputy, he was such a nice fellow. If this world was all filled with peeps like the two of you, Ken, I would be in heaven, not on this rotten old miserable world. Keep up the good work, Saint Lucie County, I am proud to be a resident. Don’t worry about my daughter being sore about the late 1982 school integration thing, as I tried to make her understand that that was just the way of the south. Oh well, what can I say, BRO, JJ Evans, or hurricane Smith?
It is 55 degrees and time to log off. The cool snap will only be here a couple of days and it will be right back into high seventies and low eighties with lows around 60. This is Florida now, right Howard Solomon, not Heaven, or other parts of the Earth? So let me get back to my Law and Order as my nap time seems to be permanently over around here for this rotten old weekend. I made about 6,5 units on my systems-roulette over the last two days, not counting this March the third day; and if my memory serves me even close to correctly, that is 23 and a half units over the 22 and a half units lost on the ‘systems crash’ of about 15-25 days or somewhere inside of that vicinity; as only my blogs will contain that information, I allow my memory to release such unimportant garbage. Still non food organic waste is called rubbish, and yet both are considered to be in perhaps slang terminology, ”trash”. My ‘trashcan daughter’ Private Cosmicoded Number of the Dick Wolf 2009 Society, was an ’835′ when I queried up the GAWNUM as to why I am going through all of this most recent hell and why the Dow Jones is at ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, lovely giant Gina, and real Morians know a lot about wonderful PCN-835, but I’ll get a lot more into powerful heart pounding ‘bullshit’ later on with all of this, and quite a lot mother fucking more, good people.
I will be explaining the systems-roulette, giving a lot of recent GAWNUN Q&A stuff,and much more, oh boy, here goes Mister dirt bag on his motorcycle again, at quarter past one this fucking afternoon, amazing he did not do at exactly two minutes earlier, causing me to fucking look at the computer clock and see ONE-ELEVEN, all ugly and digitally representing the face of Mizz Sleazebag Jane Notfondauonebit. I will come back with much much much more bullshit-835. For now, watch your texting and driving, lovely beyond hot, Mizz Ruby-Rosa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555
Saturday, March 2, 2013
MORIANITY-4-HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE IT, YO?
Mountainpen’s Blog
Just another WordPress.com weblog
« MORIANITY-4—KING NEBNOOSHOO—HADDONWOOD MYSTERIES STILL HAUNTING ME
ENDLESS HELL FOR POOR OLD ME
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA:
1/20 NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Another BP executive was expected on the witness stand Thursday to face more questions from attorneys for the U.S. government, which is trying to prove the oil company is mostly to blame for a deadly explosion on the Deepwater Horizon rig that led to a massive oil spill.
Associated Press – 1 hour ago
1/20 NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Another BP executive was expected on the witness stand Thursday to face more questions from attorneys for the U.S. government, which is trying to prove the oil company is mostly to blame for a deadly explosion on the Deepwater Horizon rig that led to a massive oil spill.
Associated Press – 1 hour ago
2/20 PHOENIX (AP) — Jodi Arias is set to resume testimony Thursday in the death penalty case against her as a prosecutor methodically chips away at her numerous stories.
Associated Press – 1 hour ago
3/20 LAS VEGAS (AP) — The Tropicana hoped to step back into the big leagues when it opened its poker room in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip, touting it as the coolest in town.
Associated Press – 1 hour ago
4/20 SANTA CRUZ, Calif. (AP) — The man accused of killing two detectives in California fought losing battles to control his rage as well as a peeping Tom obsession, destructive urges that led to his failure in the Army and set him on a path to the deadly conflict, his father says.
20/20 DENVER (Reuters) – The parents of a 6-year-old transgender girl in Colorado filed a complaint with the state’s civil rights agency on Wednesday challenging a decision by local education officials to deny their child access to the girls’ restrooms in her school. The first-grader, Coy Mathis, was b…
Sonic Worker in Houston Denied Comp Claim After Robber Broke His Leg
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YES FOLKS, MY DETAILED FORCAST IS AS FOLLOWS:
I DO NOT SEE THINGS GETTING ANY TINY BIT FUCKING BETTER FOR POOR LITTLE OLD ME, HIGHVIEW OR NO HIGHVIEW, CHERRY HILL OR NO CHERRY HILL, DO YOU AGREE WITH ME COPYRIGHT EXAMINERS OF 1986 IN WASHINGTON, DC-13-600, AT THE GREAT ALL MIGHTY LIBRARY OF THE GRERAT AND WONDERFUL CONGRESS, YO????????
Ladies and gentlemen, my health has been struck hard with huge attacks by fucking twisted WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, my nabes are a royal pain in my fucking ass, life in general is beyond fucking piss poor, and BLOGGER has fucked with my blogging now a third time, and caused the uptick in the DOW JONES, and making illegal trillions of dollars doing it, as their Microsucks system IS ON THE FUCKING DOW JONES, do they really think I am a total fucking retard, Mizz Duff?
I would love to sit here and talk lovely flowery talk honey cakes, but this evil twisted filth around me has no mercy on me, and they do FAR MORE THAN INJURE ME WITH MERE FUCKING WORDS, YO, THEIR MIGHTY SLAMS KILL, WORDS DO NOT BUST BONES LIKE YOUR POWER PUNCHES DO, LOVELY KEISHA OF 1999, BABY, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jesus fucking Christ all mighty folks, won’t this EVER MOTHER FUCKING STOP, DO I HAVE TO CAUSE A METERO TO WIPE OUT HUMANITY?
For those who may not think I can do this, a little demonstration that has nothing to do with the sky or Chicken Little and his pals, awaits you, then you’ll fucking see, lads and lassies, so laugh on at poor old diseased little fucking turd me, YO, laugh on, but the last laugh that is being planned, is known and has been known for about 31 years now, at the United States Copyright Office, right fucking asshole Icabod Crane, so happy fucking Halloween permission barriers to you too, Mister Potter Stuart!!!!!!!!!!!!
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PROPHET OF NOTHING NEBNOOSHOO OF MORIANITY-4-ENDLESS FUCKING HELL 4 ME
MORIANITY-4ENDLESS HELL FOR POOR OLD ME
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA:
1/20 NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Another BP executive was expected on the witness stand Thursday to face more questions from attorneys for the U.S. government, which is trying to prove the oil company is mostly to blame for a deadly explosion on the Deepwater Horizon rig that led to a massive oil spill.Associated Press – 1 hour ago
1/20 NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Another BP executive was expected on the witness stand Thursday to face more questions from attorneys for the U.S. government, which is trying to prove the oil company is mostly to blame for a deadly explosion on the Deepwater Horizon rig that led to a massive oil spill.
Associated Press – 1 hour ago
2/20 PHOENIX (AP) — Jodi Arias is set to resume testimony Thursday in the death penalty case against her as a prosecutor methodically chips away at her numerous stories.Associated Press – 1 hour ago
3/20 LAS VEGAS (AP) — The Tropicana hoped to step back into the big leagues when it opened its poker room in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip, touting it as the coolest in town.Associated Press – 1 hour ago
4/20 SANTA CRUZ, Calif. (AP) — The man accused of killing two detectives in California fought losing battles to control his rage as well as a peeping Tom obsession, destructive urges that led to his failure in the Army and set him on a path to the deadly conflict, his father says. 20/20 DENVER (Reuters) – The parents of a 6-year-old transgender girl in Colorado filed a complaint with the state’s civil rights agency on Wednesday challenging a decision by local education officials to deny their child access to the girls’ restrooms in her school. The first-grader, Coy Mathis, was b…Dow
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Sonic Worker in Houston Denied Comp Claim After Robber Broke His LegQuotes are Real Time from Nasdaq Last Sale when available, or delayed from primary listing source. Currency in USD.
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Fairly rotten if you ask me, the Mountainpen, still, read my personal forecast and judge 4 yourself.Richardson, TX
37°F3°C°F | °C H 59°L 34°Fair H 15°L 1°Fair Detailed Forecast of MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN:I DO NOT SEE THINGS GETTING ANY TINY BIT FUCKING BETTER FOR POOR LITTLE OLD ME, HIGHVIEW OR NO HIGHVIEW, CHERRY HILL OR NO CHERRY HILL, DO YOU AGREE WITH ME COPYRIGHT EXAMINERS OF 1986 IN WASHINGTON, DC-13-600, AT THE GREAT ALL MIGHTY LIBRARY OF THE GRERAT AND WONDERFUL CONGRESS, YO????????
Ladies and gentlemen, my health has been struck hard with huge attacks by fucking twisted WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, my nabes are a royal pain in my fucking ass, life in general is beyond fucking piss poor, and BLOGGER has fucked with my blogging now a third time, and caused the uptick in the DOW JONES, and making illegal trillions of dollars doing it, as their Microsucks system IS ON THE FUCKING DOW JONES, do they really think I am a total fucking retard, Mizz Duff?
I would love to sit here and talk lovely flowery talk honey cakes, but this evil twisted filth around me has no mercy on me, and they do FAR MORE THAN INJURE ME WITH MERE FUCKING WORDS, YO, THEIR MIGHTY SLAMS KILL, WORDS DO NOT BUST BONES LIKE YOUR POWER PUNCHES DO, LOVELY KEISHA OF 1999, BABY, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jesus fucking Christ all mighty folks, won’t this EVER MOTHER FUCKING STOP, DO I HAVE TO CAUSE A METERO TO WIPE OUT HUMANITY?
For those who may not think I can do this, a little demonstration that has nothing to do with the sky or Chicken Little and his pals, awaits you, then you’ll fucking see, lads and lassies, so laugh on at poor old diseased little fucking turd me, YO, laugh on, but the last laugh that is being planned, is known and has been known for about 31 years now, at the United States Copyright Office, right fucking asshole Icabod Crane, so happy fucking Halloween permission barriers to you too, Mister Potter Stuart!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, March 2, 2013
MORIANITY-4—HADDONWOOD MYSTERIES STILL HAUNTING ME IN 2013
MORIANITY-4
HADDONWOOD MYSTERIES STILL HAUNTING ME IN 2013
4:05 AM-EST, MARCH 2M 2013, SATURDAY EARLY MORNING
Just how much wild stuff happening all around me is being done by the miraculous miracles of water walking Microsoft Corporation and their mind boggling Google and all the social media sites this mind control organization owns and controls, I have no way of accurately determining. How could I for fucking crissake, last time I checked, I was a flesh and blood human fucking being? But I doubt that even the great still another MC in my life, and there are a dozen of them from a powerful paint company to a powerful Astral Plane organization that makes up one third of the Astral Authorities, and laugh if you wish to, but they are as real and unreal, as all of us and all of us, in this waking world so-called ‘real-life’ hyperspace, but I do really doubt that even THEY can do certain things reserved for Mister and Misses Isis. I do not say all this lightly, but I say what needs to be said, as if I do not, then I have gone out of my way to really waste a lot of my own time, and a lot of all of yours who have taken some interest in Morianity. I will not intentionally do this type of deception, not for any kind of payoff, threat, intimidation, direct, indirect, or however implied, and it has been implied on numerous occasion folks, and may I add, ON NUMEROUS REALMS OF EXISTENCE. Less than a week ago, before all of the [powerful and wild computer hacking, there was a major incident that I have yet to blog and tell you all about but this is so that at times like right now, I can indeed tell it, and along with other things, it will all tie a lot of stuff together and really get you to wondering and thinking, unless I speak to living robot automatons. I had never said out loud in this apartment, the name of ISIS at that point in time. I was writing down a few notes while my TV was on, and these notes are stuff that I'll be blogging about, and the second I said 'ISIS', the entire system all died. Now I told on a previous blog that I do have something wrong with the output jack front part of my television, and it is a cheap little set that would never be worth repairing this for. Once in a while, you need to jiggle the entire 3-RCA patch-cord that goes into the three front jacks, red, white, and yellow for stereo left and right sides and video. It just totally winks out and someone put a short circuit into the system one day while I was at work back when I first was living here or else back at the prior address up in the hood of Fort Pierce. I don't fucking believe that shit like this just keeps happening to me randomly helter-skelter, sorry folks, I may have been at night, but just not last night, and by the way, I was born in the early part of the late third of morning around stock market open time of the present, not back in 1954, at half past nine. Now back at the Haddonwood Swim Club, where I was a member from late in June in 1994, up through early in August in 1996; I had some powerful shit happening around me, from the dropping of giant black horse flies from planes flying low above me in the outdoor swimming pool, to half a dozen other things that there simply is not sufficient time to directly even try to examine right now and keep this blog from being a Tolstoy sized book. What I will say is that swimming there at that club swimming pool, was part of a powerful plan, designed by All mighty Babylonian Isis a million or really, many millions of years ago; long before our personal meeting in the Garden, that none of you will ever hear told nor will read about in any historical account or Holy Words that survive the scrutiny of the 'list makers'. It was no miracle that I knew after the previous weekend was rapping up, that I did not need biting giant flies all over me, to tell me that the DOW JONES would go way up again on the week, AND I DID TELL YOU ALL JUST EXACTLY THAT, AND IT DID GO WAY UP, JUST AS I SAID, and this is a simple parlor trick that most of the time is accurate, because I understand just what APE and ICPE or using Parallel Event against me, is really all about, and how the wealthy Fortune-Whatever the number is, has been using this on me since at least around middle fucking nineteen-eighty-six. It is cheek kissing close to the ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS NOW, and a retarded fucking brat can see that it will indeed be CROSSING OVER this target, and head straight for mother fucking stellar regions now, leaving a trail of maggots with my name on them, behind! But I'd be a total pants on fire liar with or without McGuire, if I said this all started at the fucking Haddonwood Swimming Club in Deptford, New Jersey, in 1995 somewhere and going into the year that the place closed down on a dime and sits to this very day, totally shrouded in utter quintessential mystery; and all covered over by vegetation and natural growth, leaving an inner shell of outlandish and unexplained epitomized twilight zone piano notes, endlessly playing the Rod Serling theme. I'd further be lying with flaming pants a blazing, if I said things did not keep right on going after the place closed down quicker than a vampire supposedly loses consciousness at the instant of sunrise. Haddonwood is however quite a powerful mid point zone for a lack of better way of expressing this bizarre situation. Why do I say this? Well, this is where Isis's stepfather came over and talked to me in the pool, claiming to be a family member to use his words, and I thereby just assumed, a cousin. This all did not happen because I decided to get up one morning and throw on a nice clean blue shirt with little orange stripes on it, and shine up my shoes extra bright. No sir, things like this just do not happen, unless they are 'supposed to happen', but we can leave all of this, for right bow, in the cosmic abeyance files, and move right along to the present time.
Before I do get into some of the really wild water walking 'meerks' to use a future word short for miracles, I'll tell you that Mikey got the green light from his doctor back on Friday afternoon, and beginning today, Saturday, he is able to drive, and can even resume his duties on Monday with his position at the Port Saint Lucie AARP Office there on route One at the tall building, tall for that area, AKA a Diana target. I only wish she'd be a little friendlier with me, I have not seen her lovely lightning is a while, and really miss her. I've been helping him do some necessary personal stuff over the past three days, and he has been quite generous, despite gasoline nearly hitting four fucking dollars per gallon recently, he has forced me to take quite a bit of money, and would not take no for an answer. The weather has been overcast and cool, Floridians would call it cold, I call it a little piece of Heaven, without any hockey sticks, poor promotion vocalists from 1986, or dirt bag Mister Snyder's.
Back earlier on a couple of occasions, I told how time runs faster in the eastern half of my apartment than it does in the western half, and proved it over and over with many kinds of watches, clocks, and machine timers, both electric and battery operated. There is no mistaking this incredible phenomenon no matter how unfathomable these words may appear to sound. What I have not told you is that my computer is on that side of the room, and this has only happened after I had the CD's of some transdimensional music that's on them, burned onto my Windows Media Player inside this computer. When I remove one of the three items, the time effect is about a third less, removing two as you may imagine, lessens the effect by two thirds, and when all of it is removed, it goes away entirely and totally. Then, putting them back on, one by one, the same thing returns with the measuring of time with time pieces. You can believe whatever you want to, but I know what I know folks, and I also know that GOOGLE and Microsoft Corporation is watching every little thing that I do, and also, what you all do too. This whole thing is beyond Uncles on bent knees, and out of control, and this is all beyond sweeping sand brooms or Ralph and Sandy crying the dam blues back in fucking 1983. Still, I made 3 and a half units in my Systems Roulette. Weeeeeeeeeee.
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Thursday, February 28, 2013
MORIANITY-4-THE ENDLESS GAMES GO ON, HUH ISIS?
Mountainpen’s Blog
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« MORIANITY-4-STILL MADE FOUR UNITS AFTER A SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY
SUPER BOTBAR DAY AND STILL MADE 4 UNITS ON SYSTEMS FUCKING ROULETTE, TEE HEE HEE HEE LILLY:
9:47 PM-EST, THURSDAY, 28 FEBRUARY, 2013
This was a very horrible fucking day. Lots of jet trails got worse as the say day went on, recently the concentration of this propane and other mixed chemicals has been concentrated all around me, causing irregular heart rhythms and shit attacks, depression and other mood alterations, and just as Prince and I know about, many other things as well. My scum bag nabes are noisy in the halls at times, but it has been worse. Things are just overall as bad as they can get, and have been now since I lost my mother fucking cunt eating job up the street a year ago. Then I get back from taking Mikey on some errands, and try and post a short blog up to www.blogger.com/ and they hacked me and will not let me post up[ anything. My last blog from early this morning is up there and that is it, no test blogs work, nothing, so later on next week I will have to call the ACLU unless Google or Blogger will tell me what is going on. All I can think of is that I was not supposed to post the channel twelve street-cam photo on my blog without written permission. I do not do anything for money and do not see how this really violates anyone’s rights, but the law is the fucking law. If I cannot do it, then fine, I won’t do it, fuck U’s. Stop stealing my fucking life and shit then, you bastards, you’re all guilty a million times over and you fucking ass know it, ya’ bums!
Well, we will see what happens as time goes on, and life, right Cousin Donald, and Jack and Diane as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is time for the new kid in town to sign off and post now, WHAAAA, so I don’t wanna’ hear any of it, Steve Marcus and Steve frikkin McGinty, so thanx for helping me with ‘my problems’ back in 1996 there, old pal.
Mighty nite for all the wicked evil demonic demons of capitalism out here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We will talk about REALITY-3 in greater detail when things get resolved at Blogger, folks.
Forget hello and goodbye, and Lois Foca from 1980 and the Great All Mighty Isis Jehovah Krassle of the Astral-Plane, let me tell a few powerful things, and wherever it posts up, fine, and whenever it post up, fine also.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is now a little later on, in this great wild cool fucking illusion in STM (Space-Time-Mind), you would see it as me typing this where my computer clock now reads 12:49 AM-EST, on this first day in March in twenty-thirteen. On a recent blog, I really fucked up the date, so sorry Mister Ambassador of Japan. I meant it was 28 February in the year of 2013, not twenty-twelve, super sixth dimensional mind hack from the ETTOS-PAWM-PIE system.
WOW, Mister R. H. Macy, sir, and family, do I have something to tell all of you wonderful darling lovers of the fabulous marvelous non judge owned rooming-houses, DJBT, the great All Mighty Mirror Kissing King. Reality-3 is a bigger deal that I AM ever able to really get too much into, but I’ll try nonetheless folks, YO.
Let’s keep it all super fudging simple, lads and lassies. The concept of a parallel event, you know, I am up so the Dow is down, or I am down so the Dow is up, or I am down so the Flyers in Philly 57 hickey sticks WINS a game, and so forth, has two things, ME on one side of it, and then the second thing, the parallel event of blessing or cursing me by WOMO MILI-2-FORCES. If however the real truth is deeper, and this cannot be known by some simple ideas and thinking and cogitating and meditating, and so forth, but it a third force is acting on both ME, as well as these other things that seem to run in this parallel event with me, one way or the other way, endlessly; then no one is intentionally doing anything to me, but as you are driving down Mirage Boulevard, how do you ever know for sure that that puddle of water up ahead on a hot summer day while driving along a road of asphalt, is really there or not, UNTIL YOU DRIVE UP TO IT, seriously folks, would you be willing to ”bet your fucking immortal soul” on it ever, one way or the other? This is the simplest way of explaining what I personally mean when I discuss on my blogs here in MORIANITY, the topic of what I have named and called for a many years, ”REALITY-THREE”. But trying to ascertain whether or not it is real or if it is just a huge California Car Window Holler Club, intentionally and despicably doing all of this to me for nearly 27 mother fucking years, as the great android ”ROCK” said to Captain James Tiberius Kirk, on the original Star Trek television show in the sixties, “THAT is the equation”. He said this as he was holding Captain kirk, and nearly crushed the fucking life out of him when he spoke the word, ‘THAT’, so I emphasized it, and have been doing this for nearly my entire time blogging and mentioning this old sixties frikkin great sci-fy TV show, BRO!
Folks, TIME TRAVEL IS REAL AND HAS BEEN GOING ON FOREVER. Nothing is really real, but real in the sense that we think while we are sniffing the stench of dogshit or being cut with a nasty knife and it hurts like hell, as real as this really cool 5-D interactive cosmic VR program can be, and the reason this program is so cool, is that we enter these ‘dreameractions’ here in waking life, and with a fully cut off memory switch to the other side where we crossed over from. Well, I better be a good boy, or Sarah might knock out some teeth and have a hyperspace party, right Mizz Marilyn McCoo?????????????? My error when I misspelled her name in the past as McCoy, I meant to type in McCoo.
HAVE A REAL NICE DAY AND LIFE, FOLKS, WHILE I SIT HERE CRYING AND DYING UNDER THE GREAT H.C. 24-7.
KING NEBBLUESCREWED, MORIANITY-4, WORST YEAR OF MY EFFING ASS LIFE!!!!
MORIANITY-4:SUPER BOTBAR DAY AND STILL MADE 4 UNITS ON SYSTEMS FUCKING ROULETTE, TEE HEE HEE HEE LILLY:
9:47 PM-EST, THURSDAY, 28 FEBRUARY, 2013
This was a very horrible fucking day. Lots of jet trails got worse as the say day went on, recently the concentration of this propane and other mixed chemicals has been concentrated all around me, causing irregular heart rhythms and shit attacks, depression and other mood alterations, and just as Prince and I know about, many other things as well. My scum bag nabes are noisy in the halls at times, but it has been worse. Things are just overall as bad as they can get, and have been now since I lost my mother fucking cunt eating job up the street a year ago. Then I get back from taking Mikey on some errands, and try and post a short blog up to www.blogger.com/ and they hacked me and will not let me post up[ anything. My last blog from early this morning is up there and that is it, no test blogs work, nothing, so later on next week I will have to call the ACLU unless Google or Blogger will tell me what is going on. All I can think of is that I was not supposed to post the channel twelve street-cam photo on my blog without written permission. I do not do anything for money and do not see how this really violates anyone’s rights, but the law is the fucking law. If I cannot do it, then fine, I won’t do it, fuck U’s. Stop stealing my fucking life and shit then, you bastards, you’re all guilty a million times over and you fucking ass know it, ya’ bums!
Well, we will see what happens as time goes on, and life, right Cousin Donald, and Jack and Diane as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is time for the new kid in town to sign off and post now, WHAAAA, so I don’t wanna’ hear any of it, Steve Marcus and Steve frikkin McGinty, so thanx for helping me with ‘my problems’ back in 1996 there, old pal.
Mighty nite for all the wicked evil demonic demons of capitalism out here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We will talk about REALITY-3 in greater detail when things get resolved at Blogger, folks.
Forget hello and goodbye, and Lois Foca from 1980 and the Great All Mighty Isis Jehovah Krassle of the Astral-Plane, let me tell a few powerful things, and wherever it posts up, fine, and whenever it post up, fine also.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is now a little later on, in this great wild cool fucking illusion in STM (Space-Time-Mind), you would see it as me typing this where my computer clock now reads 12:49 AM-EST, on this first day in March in twenty-thirteen. On a recent blog, I really fucked up the date, so sorry Mister Ambassador of Japan. I meant it was 28 February in the year of 2013, not twenty-twelve, super sixth dimensional mind hack from the ETTOS-PAWM-PIE system.
WOW, Mister R. H. Macy, sir, and family, do I have something to tell all of you wonderful darling lovers of the fabulous marvelous non judge owned rooming-houses, DJBT, the great All Mighty Mirror Kissing King. Reality-3 is a bigger deal that I AM ever able to really get too much into, but I’ll try nonetheless folks, YO.
Let’s keep it all super fudging simple, lads and lassies. The concept of a parallel event, you know, I am up so the Dow is down, or I am down so the Dow is up, or I am down so the Flyers in Philly 57 hickey sticks WINS a game, and so forth, has two things, ME on one side of it, and then the second thing, the parallel event of blessing or cursing me by WOMO MILI-2-FORCES. If however the real truth is deeper, and this cannot be known by some simple ideas and thinking and cogitating and meditating, and so forth, but it a third force is acting on both ME, as well as these other things that seem to run in this parallel event with me, one way or the other way, endlessly; then no one is intentionally doing anything to me, but as you are driving down Mirage Boulevard, how do you ever know for sure that that puddle of water up ahead on a hot summer day while driving along a road of asphalt, is really there or not, UNTIL YOU DRIVE UP TO IT, seriously folks, would you be willing to ”bet your fucking immortal soul” on it ever, one way or the other? This is the simplest way of explaining what I personally mean when I discuss on my blogs here in MORIANITY, the topic of what I have named and called for a many years, ”REALITY-THREE”. But trying to ascertain whether or not it is real or if it is just a huge California Car Window Holler Club, intentionally and despicably doing all of this to me for nearly 27 mother fucking years, as the great android ”ROCK” said to Captain James Tiberius Kirk, on the original Star Trek television show in the sixties, “THAT is the equation”. He said this as he was holding Captain kirk, and nearly crushed the fucking life out of him when he spoke the word, ‘THAT’, so I emphasized it, and have been doing this for nearly my entire time blogging and mentioning this old sixties frikkin great sci-fy TV show, BRO!
Folks, TIME TRAVEL IS REAL AND HAS BEEN GOING ON FOREVER. Nothing is really real, but real in the sense that we think while we are sniffing the stench of dogshit or being cut with a nasty knife and it hurts like hell, as real as this really cool 5-D interactive cosmic VR program can be, and the reason this program is so cool, is that we enter these ‘dreameractions’ here in waking life, and with a fully cut off memory switch to the other side where we crossed over from. Well, I better be a good boy, or Sarah might knock out some teeth and have a hyperspace party, right Mizz Marilyn McCoo?????????????? My error when I misspelled her name in the past as McCoy, I meant to type in McCoo.
HAVE A REAL NICE DAY AND LIFE, FOLKS, WHILE I SIT HERE CRYING AND DYING UNDER THE GREAT H.C. 24-7.
SOMEBODY IS STOPPING ME FROM POSTING
Mountainpen’s Blog
Just another WordPress.com weblog
« MORIANITY-4-STILL MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS DESPITE MAJOR HELL
MORIANITY-4
MANY CHEMTRAILS ARE IN THE SKY TODAY, THIS FINAL 28TH DAY OF FEBRUARY. SORRY ABOUT THE TIME FUCK UP, I TRAVE L A LOT IN TIME, AND GOT STUFF MIXED UP TEMPORARILY. LOTS OF SKY ACTION IS AROUND FORT PIERCE ALL DAY TODAY, AND YOU CAN SEE THE CHANNEL 12 MAP HERE SHOWING SOME JET VAPOR DISINTEGRATION AND SPREAD OUT, DUE TO ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES OVER THE PAST HALF CENTURY. JET FUELS WILL GET WORSE AND WORSE, IN AN EVER WARMING GLOBAL BIOSPHERE, AND IT IS NOT CAUSED BY MNAN AND HIS ARROGANT CARBON EMISSIONS, BUT IS ALL PART OF A NATURAL ICE AGE CYCLE OF ABOUT 44,000 TOTAL YEARS COMPLETE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. WE HAVE ENTERED A PHASE RECENTLY AROUND THE SAME TIME THE JET AGE CAME IN, WHERE MANY CHANGES HAVE STARTED TO WARM UP THE SKIES AND MAKE JET TRAILS SEEM TOTALLY WEIRD. STILL, THIS FUEL ALL OVER IS UNHEALTHY AND WILL NOT BE ADDRESSED ANY TIME SOON, AS WE ALL NEED OUR WORLD OF QUICK JET TRAVEL. LET THE COST TO OUR HEALTH BE DAMMED.
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MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE
MORIANITY-4
MANY CHEMTRAILS ARE IN THE SKY TODAY, THIS FINAL 28TH DAY OF FEBRUARY. SORRY ABOUT THE TIME FUCK UP, I TRAVE L A LOT IN TIME, AND GOT STUFF MIXED UP TEMPORARILY. LOTS OF SKY ACTION IS AROUND FORT PIERCE ALL DAY TODAY, AND YOU CAN SEE THE CHANNEL 12 MAP HERE SHOWING SOME JET VAPOR DISINTEGRATION AND SPREAD OUT, DUE TO ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES OVER THE PAST HALF CENTURY. JET FUELS WILL GET WORSE AND WORSE, IN AN EVER WARMING GLOBAL BIOSPHERE, AND IT IS NOT CAUSED BY MNAN AND HIS ARROGANT CARBON EMISSIONS, BUT IS ALL PART OF A NATURAL ICE AGE CYCLE OF ABOUT 44,000 TOTAL YEARS COMPLETE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. WE HAVE ENTERED A PHASE RECENTLY AROUND THE SAME TIME THE JET AGE CAME IN, WHERE MANY CHANGES HAVE STARTED TO WARM UP THE SKIES AND MAKE JET TRAILS SEEM TOTALLY WEIRD. STILL, THIS FUEL ALL OVER IS UNHEALTHY AND WILL NOT BE ADDRESSED ANY TIME SOON, AS WE ALL NEED OUR WORLD OF QUICK JET TRAVEL. LET THE COST TO OUR HEALTH BE DAMMED.
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I do not like this at all, someone is violating my rights to freedom of protected speech, I have not threatened anyone or said anything illegal or told anyone to overthrow a government or go out abnd kill people, why won't fucking Blogger publish my posts?Like Loading...
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« MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE
Where are you when I need you, old school pal, McDowell???????????????????????????????????????
MORIANITY-4-BLOGGER STOPPING ME FROM BLOGGING TODAY, DO NOT KNOW Y.
MORIANITY-4 —– WHY WON’T BLOGGER LET ME BLOG?
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FORGET THE MARKET HEADLINES, WHY IS THE MARKET CLOSED TODAY, IT IS NOT A HOLIDAY, OR A WEEKEND DAY, AND YYYY WON’T BLOGGER DOT COM LET ME POST ANYTHING UP TODAY, WORLD AUTHORITIES? THIS IS REAL BAD FOLKS, AND I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS FUCKING GOING ON, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Where are you when I need you, old school pal, McDowell???????????????????????????????????????
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FCC, I THINK BLOGGER HAS THROWN ME OFF THEIR SITE
test blog test blog adgklrjfghhj test blog gjdfhrutyjfj TEST BLOG SKSKSKSKSSK FJFJFJGHRUGJBN VJDHJVJ TEST BLOG
IF THIS POSTS, FOR SOME REASON, THEY WILL NOT ALLOW WHAT I JUST POSTED UP AT WORDPRESS, SO GO TO THERE AND SEE WHY THE CENSORSHIP IS GOING ON, DO ANY LAWYERS WISH TO EXPLAIN WHY I AM BEING CENSORED, YO?
Posted by mark wayne mohr at 1:52 PM No comments: IF THIS POSTS, FOR SOME REASON, THEY WILL NOT ALLOW WHAT I JUST POSTED UP AT WORDPRESS, SO GO TO THERE AND SEE WHY THE CENSORSHIP IS GOING ON, DO ANY LAWYERS WISH TO EXPLAIN WHY I AM BEING CENSORED, YO?
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MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE
« MORIANITY-4-STILL MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS DESPITE MAJOR HELL
MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE
MORIANITY-4 MANY CHEMTRAILS ARE IN THE SKY TODAY, THIS FINAL 28TH DAY OF FEBRUARY. SORRY ABOUT THE TIME FUCK UP, I TRAVE L A LOT IN TIME, AND GOT STUFF MIXED UP TEMPORARILY. LOTS OF SKY ACTION IS AROUND FORT PIERCE ALL DAY TODAY, AND YOU CAN SEE THE CHANNEL 12 MAP HERE SHOWING SOME JET VAPOR DISINTEGRATION AND SPREAD OUT, DUE TO ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES OVER THE PAST HALF CENTURY. JET FUELS WILL GET WORSE AND WORSE, IN AN EVER WARMING GLOBAL BIOSPHERE, AND IT IS NOT CAUSED BY MNAN AND HIS ARROGANT CARBON EMISSIONS, BUT IS ALL PART OF A NATURAL ICE AGE CYCLE OF ABOUT 44,000 TOTAL YEARS COMPLETE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. WE HAVE ENTERED A PHASE RECENTLY AROUND THE SAME TIME THE JET AGE CAME IN, WHERE MANY CHANGES HAVE STARTED TO WARM UP THE SKIES AND MAKE JET TRAILS SEEM TOTALLY WEIRD. STILL, THIS FUEL ALL OVER IS UNHEALTHY AND WILL NOT BE ADDRESSED ANY TIME SOON, AS WE ALL NEED OUR WORLD OF QUICK JET TRAVEL. LET THE COST TO OUR HEALTH BE DAMMED.MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE
MORIANITY-4-THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEMTRAILS AND THE ICE AGE CYCLE:
CHANNEL 12 TOOK AWAY THEIR LIBNK TO THEIR PHOTO, I WONDER WHO TOLD THEM TO DO THIS, MY KID OR HER PAL THE DON WAN BLOW JOB KING HIMSELF?
MANY CHEMTRAILS ARE IN THE SKY TODAY, THIS FINAL 28TH DAY OF FEBRUARY. SORRY ABOUT THE TIME FUCK UP, I TRAVE L A LOT IN TIME, AND GOT STUFF MIXED UP TEMPORARILY.
LOTS OF SKY ACTION IS AROUND FORT PIERCE ALL DAY TODAY, AND YOU CAN SEE THE CHANNEL 12 MAP HERE SHOWING SOME JET VAPOR DISINTEGRATION AND SPREAD OUT, DUE TO ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES OVER THE PAST HALF CENTURY. JET FUELS WILL GET WORSE AND WORSE, IN AN EVER WARMING GLOBAL BIOSPHERE, AND IT IS NOT CAUSED BY MNAN AND HIS ARROGANT CARBON EMISSIONS, BUT IS ALL PART OF A NATURAL ICE AGE CYCLE OF ABOUT 44,000 TOTAL YEARS COMPLETE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. WE HAVE ENTERED A PHASE RECENTLY AROUND THE SAME TIME THE JET AGE CAME IN, WHERE MANY CHANGES HAVE STARTED TO WARM UP THE SKIES AND MAKE JET TRAILS SEEM TOTALLY WEIRD. STILL, THIS FUEL ALL OVER IS UNHEALTHY AND WILL NOT BE ADDRESSED ANY TIME SOON, AS WE ALL NEED OUR WORLD OF QUICK JET TRAVEL. LET THE COST TO OUR HEALTH BE DAMMED.
Posted by mark wayne mohr at 1:36 PM No comments: CHANNEL 12 TOOK AWAY THEIR LIBNK TO THEIR PHOTO, I WONDER WHO TOLD THEM TO DO THIS, MY KID OR HER PAL THE DON WAN BLOW JOB KING HIMSELF?
MANY CHEMTRAILS ARE IN THE SKY TODAY, THIS FINAL 28TH DAY OF FEBRUARY. SORRY ABOUT THE TIME FUCK UP, I TRAVE L A LOT IN TIME, AND GOT STUFF MIXED UP TEMPORARILY.
LOTS OF SKY ACTION IS AROUND FORT PIERCE ALL DAY TODAY, AND YOU CAN SEE THE CHANNEL 12 MAP HERE SHOWING SOME JET VAPOR DISINTEGRATION AND SPREAD OUT, DUE TO ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES OVER THE PAST HALF CENTURY. JET FUELS WILL GET WORSE AND WORSE, IN AN EVER WARMING GLOBAL BIOSPHERE, AND IT IS NOT CAUSED BY MNAN AND HIS ARROGANT CARBON EMISSIONS, BUT IS ALL PART OF A NATURAL ICE AGE CYCLE OF ABOUT 44,000 TOTAL YEARS COMPLETE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. WE HAVE ENTERED A PHASE RECENTLY AROUND THE SAME TIME THE JET AGE CAME IN, WHERE MANY CHANGES HAVE STARTED TO WARM UP THE SKIES AND MAKE JET TRAILS SEEM TOTALLY WEIRD. STILL, THIS FUEL ALL OVER IS UNHEALTHY AND WILL NOT BE ADDRESSED ANY TIME SOON, AS WE ALL NEED OUR WORLD OF QUICK JET TRAVEL. LET THE COST TO OUR HEALTH BE DAMMED.
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MORIANITY-4-STILL MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS DESPITE SUPER HELL
'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
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
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
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
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
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
% 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
% Losers
Name Price Change % Chg FSGI 1.9741 -0.64 -24.37% First Security Group, Inc. RADA 1.46 -0.39 -21.08% RADA Electronic Industries Ltd. VRTB 1.08 -0.26 -19.40% Vestin Realty Mortgage II, Inc. VSI 51.44 -11.78 -18.63% Vitamin Shoppe, Inc. ENMD 2.83 -0.64 -18.44% EntreMed Inc.
February 26, 2013
1/20 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
20/20 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
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Quotes 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.
- YES FELLOW SIKE WARD MUSICIANS, THE PROPHET OF NOTHING WAS RIGHT AND HE WANTS HIS FREAKING PROPS, YO, DOW NEARLY AT 14, 300 POINTS FIRST WEEK IN MARCH, I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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THIS WILL COMPENSATE FOR PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, AND SEEING LOTS OF CLOCK ATTACKS RECENTLY AS WELL, JANE SLEAZE LOUISE. ANY-HA FOLKS, THIS BLOG WILL GO UP NOW, AND I AM OFF TO FRIKKIN BED.
MIGHTY-NITE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
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!
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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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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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.
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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?
http://youtu.be/KExU0kPESqk(Governor Jesse Ventura)
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.
DO NOT CLICK HERE, IT IS DEFUNCT FOLKS, HOPE I WAS NOT A 'REAL BAD BOY', GOVERNOR SIR, ONLY WANTED TO PROMOTE YOUR GREAT VIDEO, YO.
http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU100% machine created, technopop.
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**!!!
Posted by mark wayne mohr at 11:45 PM
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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.
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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!!!!!!!!
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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 OFFLET 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEIT.
Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.
| Advisory Colors Key | |
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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
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION AS IF ANYTHING REALLY EVER BEGINS:
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!!!!!!!!!!!! END TRANSMISSION, IF ANYTHING COULD END:
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!
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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 iswww.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
5555555555555
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