MORIANITY PART 5

CHAPTER XVI

11:22 AM-EDST, THURSDAY, 21 MARCH, 2013

THIS IS SHAPING UP TO BE A REAL SUPER BOTBAR DAY!

I was awakened at quarter past eleven to horrible loud music that seemed to contain no source. My resident manager told me to be nosy and go out into the hallway and check out stuff when it is happening, if she is to be expected to be able to say anything to anyone. She is being lied to by the across the hall slobs, as she told me they are hardly ever home. There are some rare times like that, but most of the time they are always around, just continuously in and out, they just bum around like the family I lived with up north along with Eddie as well, all nothing but welfare rats, using the system and refusing to work. The only reason I get a decent monthly disability check is because I worked hard all my life until I could no longer take the years of persecution from my Otamm scum bag Womo-Mili-2-Force enemies. Anyway, after doing a full check, the music stopped as mysteriously as it started, and I could not tell whop was generating this monstrous noise. Anything to violate my civil rights, and upset me, and of course, BRING THAT ROTTEN DISEASED DOW JONES STOCK MARKET forever UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP!!!!!!!! Nothing new is going on, and this is all as old as the fucking mountain tops, climbed or not, and with or without non-whites in the military, and no, UI don't forget anything, but I do know see the entire shit from my youth through this present day, as it truly and really is; ONE HUGE HORRENDOUS NIGHTMARE STORY, ALL CONNECTED TOTALLY UP TOGETHER ALL ALONG. Seeing it this way, brings a super clarity to it all, for the first time ever, that could just not exist by seeing it all so separately. This revelation is only something that happened this very week, and I believe there are catalysts to cause such sudden new thought processes, in my case, I think I know what it was, and a part of it was being stopped and sanctioned AGAIN, as always,m with my attempts to pursue my amateur music hobby. I do not wish to ever do this professionally, yet even with that, my filthy twisted fucking monster ass worthless jerk off enemies, will not allow it, and stop me always and forever, at every mother fucking turn. Microsucks is giving me a lot of hacks, and it happens covertly through their fucking evil non voluntary updates process. One hack they use on me is when you try and click off a font or color change or click out from a highlighting or whatever, the area you are at on the word document moves paragraphs away, and you then need to find where you were and re-click onto it go over it despite it already being highlighted, and then it goes away. You think you are going to save and it saves with the highlighting you do not want saved on it. This is the only way to get rid of it.

Also, besides hacking, neighborhood persecution, on top of all of this is also, the sky and aerial persecution WITH A LOT OF CHEMTRAILS TO MY EAST AND MY NORTH. Let us see if they show up south where my camera leprechaun's will be picking it up in real time, so let me click a CAP to this blog from another document I have that contains the JI-CAM. Here is some CAPPING WORK, as well as the JI-CAM.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Chapter 2 (HELP ME JOHN JUDY)

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION MY INTERACTION WITH THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL HERE IN FLORIDA Chapter #2, World Labs-SBT-DATFILE: 050810.555.5555555555555555555555 Beginning Transmission:
I am here at the library, having the most incredible mother fucking major computer HACK ATTACK, ever, in my entire 4+ year fucking blogging career. This is the 3rd time I have had 2 start over again, with a brand new blog on a different machine. This day is SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR. All days R super fucking BOTBAR here in FLORIDA, I knew I should have made my strategic fucking exit on the 2nd of May, and not remained here 4 this month, a very bad move there, BRO-GREEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “BAD-MOVE-BRO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me tell U all what happened. Obviously when I last posted up 2 the internet blogging sites, yesterday, one of these sites did not do a proper job of preventing hacking-worms 2B sent directly into my floppy disc that caused this mother fucking trouble. There is no stopping THEM, NEVER. The fucking diseased and desperately vile and wicked power monger kings known as the {MILLIONTH-COUNCIL} that is!!!!!!!! Even Pope Benedict XVI tried 2 combat these monsters from the SHADOW-CULT. He and the entire Vatican tried 2C what was behind THAT-FAMILY. A child can C this all happened, not only because of the local church that HE visited right behind the MARHOUSE at 65 Middle Road in Guatamayanville (Hammonton, New Jersey), back in the year of 4-BJWSC, (Before “mini-great” Jewelly White’s SECOND CALENDAR, but also because of the recent troubles that McGuire cunningly and very cleverly, got the poor guy into; and this is a secret that damn may get me eliminated TODAY, 4 telling the internet world about. HE, HIS Eminence, was taking this family seriously, and was DEALT WTH, by an even higher power than what and who HE thinks he is working 4, that being the powerful deadly dangerous evil MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, actually the one third of them that control an Astral Plane area-interaction, known by few living breathing mortals such as myself, as the BRIGGBASE, and the residents thereon, the LAMBRIGGER CULT OF THE ASTRAL PLANE, or the (SPIRIT WORLD). I will try and reconstruct now, the short other intro’s from blogs that got totally FUCKING WIPED OUT, as THEY knew what I jurist said, was all indeed, gonna get said, and posted up onto the fucking internet, TODAY!!!!!!!! There is no freedom in this evil world, or in this evil empire. They proved their evil empire is indeed evil many years ago, right in our public school system. All real and true ‘believers’ in things beyond what 5 tiny senses perceive know this fact. We no longer salute our flag with the once great words of, “one nation (UNDER GOD), indivisible, and so forth. Take THAT out, take school recognition of the all mighty Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle out, and what has happened 2 society in instantaneous paralleling event?, but school violence, drug abuse in school increasing 100 fold, and on and on we could fucking go lads and lassies.

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294

SBT-DATFILE: 093012.657-BLUES

COINCIDENCE? DON’T THINK SO PEEPS.

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR, (BSNF):

“OTHER STUFF CONTINUES FROM 1983 AND 1984 TAPES”

THIS IS A VOLUNTARILY SWORN OATH OF ABSOLUTE

TRUTHS, WITHOUT OMISSIONS OR ADDITIONS TO THAT TRUTH; AS BEST AS IT IS KNOWN TO ME ON THIS DATE AS REFLECTED ABOVE, SO HELP ME FLAG OF THE USA, AND UNDER MY GREAT GODDESS SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION, YO:

I have powerful stuff to talk about. Also, I am under a heavy aerial assault today with one of the WOMO-MILITUFORCE famously used tools of their great carpentry kit of pure evil from the Astral Plane, the mighty PAWM-PIE-ETTOS. The day is super BOTBAR, and a lot of heavy amounts of young goddess type of girls, are all over the place. I was out getting my prescriptions at the Walgreen’s Pharmacy, and spending my final three and a half dollars, until the 3^rd, and what would have been my mother’s 93^rd birthday, good old frikkin September the third. My Dad was one week later on September the tenth, and my mother used to love to say how she robbed the cradle. I am not touching this one ladies and gentlemen. Somebody contacts, in my opinion, all poster’s of anything chemtrail-related, and sends them about four and half billion websites to check out, showing all of us the error of our ways. He even mentions how Joanie Mitchel sings a famous song of hers, about them, from 1967. They are all through the HAIR movie, done in 1979, on the remake of the original hit New York Broadway theatrical original performance in 1968, ‘HAIR’. I also had Donna Summer’s wild version of this, done as a teenager, long before she ever did anything else. Now it belongs to the FBI, via the basement of Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas. No SPELL CHECKER, if Ms Mitchel wants to spell her name ‘Joanie’, that is entirely her business, but hopefully she’ll have enough good common sense back in time, to stay away from some real lovely folks that her friends like Dusty, Carlie, and poor paranoid, yeah right, Janis; did not all stay away from; down in wonderful sweet, and totally mobbed-up ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now Carlie falls victim to the error’d ways of the Micro-Sucks spell-checker computer system also, WEEEEEEEEE, new Bank Trucks, and fuck you too again, as if I want to fucking say ERROR’D, then that is what I’ll say. You don’t own me or my life, you silly ass fucking computer program, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, watch out for FIRE MCGUIRE. He loves to also destroy people’s personal property, and tries to kill pets, wreck automobiles, and even though my credibility is total zero; my kid does pull a lot of weight, only she does not believe the GREAT PRINCE, nor me, on the jet issue; or even what happened a long time ago. Unfortunately, I cannot randomly select what I choose to uncover, discover; and come to learn as fact. I disagreed with my mom on this, and never thought that I would disagree with her granddaughter. Oh well Mayor Levy, who can know the future? Yeah right, to that one as well, huh your back-pain honor? No one talks about the OJ TRIAL, and CNN VIDEO, that day, where some MILITUFORCE CRAFT, WARPED out of our orbit; as it is all there, and it really happened. Yes, I had the tape. Now guess who has this tape. Either the KING’s, or the FIBBIES.

Do I know why the CHEMTRAIL ATTACK IS SO BAD TODAY? You can bet your ass that I do, Annie Costner, bodyguard of the Iowa cornfields. I HAD AN EXTREMELY INCREDIBLE EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION right before awakening at half past ten this morning, another one, what is this half past ten shit all about, I am left to begin pondering on quite philosophically, and perhaps even criminally? This also rings lots of head bells, as things tend to repeat in numbers, and in events; and on and on I could go on this very wild topic. Ten-thirty was choke time, on the evening of June 4^th in 1983, where that all began, along with Sabrina Collins, from the ‘REAL DARK SHADOWS SHOW’, back when talent was real, and not all synthesized and copied; and who am I to talk in this great pot and kettle situation, as many I’m quite sure are asking right about frikkin now? There also was another half past ten, also at night, on a Saturday, more than twenty-six years ago. I was with the loveliest girl I ever met, and ended up never knowing what forces had brought us together intentionally; and nearly had a fate of my own waiting for me, called Rikers Island Jail. For non, New Yorkers, there are many other things on this island, it is not just a jail, just in case anyone is remotely interested. There is something for me, about ten thirty, usually at night, but it can be morning as well, so it seems. In any event, I will tell the wild exploratronic interaction or as you might call it, wild vivid DREAM, to you on this blog, but before we do get into it, I want to discuss a few things that will lead up just ever so nicely, into all of it. The person leaving me a lifetime of information to check out regarding the CHEMTRAIL subject, needs me to say a few things here. For once, I did successfully reply to your message. Yours was the only one that worked. When I tried PP, I got all kinds of screens as he is a member of the AOL-INTERNET, and hard as I tried, I could not get back to him, SAR knows I tried. I tried replying to my new friend ADS, and also failed, in fact his entire comment on the WORDPRESS to me, vanished, poof, and that was that, fortunately for me, I copied down the frikkin e-mail address that he has, so I will at least be able to communicate, once someone ever helps me. Things for me are not like Mister Knowso can ever imagine, because he is not me, just as I am not him. He does not think that I know the history of chemtrails. Most folks until this very year, do not think these things existed before the nineties, and I of course know that this is a lot of crap. Not only were both contrails and chemtrails around before the nineties, and before my problem with them began, in either the end of November, or the start of December, in the year of 1987; but in fact; they do show up on many Hollywood movies, HAIR from 1979 being one of them, and in the song done by JM in the middle late nineteen-sixties, she is indeed driving through the Western deserts of the United States, and sees her share of the very same grid pattern thickening cloud dissipating stuff, that is shown on the remake of the Broadway Play HAIR, and before JM sang her song of bedazzlement while doing some desert driving, there is history far beyond this. I have in my possession, both a contrail and a chemtrail, during the CIVIL WAR, Miss KNOWSO JESSICA GRANT, a descendant of our great General and later to follow US President, YO. This is because the same things that have caused the ‘REAL GOOD GIRL’ (MY) INTRO situation, and the trip from September 30^th in 2008, up to October 31^st in that same year, only a 31 day time travel, but time travel nonetheless folks, and the 6-9 rooms in a home I never saw ever, and had no reason to ever see it, owned by Judge Frank Raso of Hammonton, New Jersey; being shown to me by the greatest female recording artist on this planet, Mariah Carey; and the list goes on with literally hundreds of personal real actual time travel stunts, that somehow are all involved in my life; are not something that the mighty KNOWSO Patrick Jane of the MENTALIST television show, or anyone else sharing the view that there totally is no way that anything beyond the natural order physical-plane can exist; is a total fool. What throws off the belief or disbelief, and also causes age old disputes and down right nasty arguments, is something called TRANSDIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. This is not understood except for, and by, a handful of top physicists. It explains why I can go back in time ten minutes and shoot myself dead, and it has nothing to do with all the so many other rationalizations made so far, even by the greatest minds of the scientific community. Time travel, no matter how it is done, even the so-called trips to the future in fast space ships; is not what people think at all. You would have to see the reality in pictures. Words will never do it justice. If you take the video of a car moving down a street, and this lasts from one o’clock, until one minute past, and you slow it down, and watch it; this car becomes many cars, and many time-realities; and all that is happening in or out of so-called normal or extra-normal travel throughout that minute, is an energy of mind, transferring from instants to instants, in a very very miniscule kind of a time fraction. As this MIND-ENERGY is moving by way of its very nature of its own existence as a sent signal from the sixth dimension, down into all of the 5^th dimensional lower hyperspace parallel universes, a lot of things are happening, that 21^st century science is only starting to wrap their frikkin heads around at the top think tank and physics lab level. In the early 22 hundreds, the accepted reality of ‘SPACE-TIME-MIND’ becomes understood, and this alters life on ‘Planet Earth’ beyond a million times that of the wheel, or fire, or even prostitution; if I can be allowed a little lightening of the load here, with some attempted humor, good peeps. We can get back to all of this and more, at later times. For now, the chemtrail topic is indeed complex, and it has nothing to do with any one thing, and anyone who believes that something so big as this, can really be such a mono-topic, is kidding themselves. Without these chemtrails, it is difficult to use ‘STM’ as efficiently, so they are placed all over everywhere, and until the nineties came in, folks were literally in their own zones a lot more, but they were all over the place, just less in the eighties, and less still before the eighties, but they WERE THERE; and I do know the history of them, and need not be reminded of this by any so-called all-knowing folks. This is all very personal for me, and I don’t expect to be believed on face value when I make that claim, as why should a nobody be? I get it, I am not a frikkin moron. Now I want to talk to my new pal ADS, as the next paragraph starts; and this will then work to automatically dovetail into the powerful ‘DREAM’ from early this morning before my awakening to start this BOTBAR last day of the month, and many of my followers, know about MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE and using it against me by the evil vicious WOMO since 1986, just as they also use ICPE/PARALELL EVENT, ALL BRINGING ME TO ENDLESSLY SUFFER WITH THIS EVIL TRILOGY OF THE PHILLIES, FLYERS, DOW JONES DEAL!!!!!!!!

Since I am no good with computers, I lost your comment, and you can re-ask me and I will answer, but for now; I hope you read, and are trying using, the great mystical powerful FASCITAR TOOL, that I explained to you, and the rest of Morianity, and not for the first time, on a near recent blogging text. The Fascitar can take you into a connection with the sixth dimension, placing your energetic awareness onto the ASTRAL-PLANE, where you can simply create an interaction, and by merely thinking anything, it is just all around you, as you are merged instantly into what you are thinking, and the illusion of a space and a time dimension are created right along with you as you do this. This is the total opposite of waking world life, where first we appear to totally need space and time, in order to then make an interaction, or even have a body that powers a brain, that is able to generate ‘THOUGHT’. This is why the PHYSICAL and the ASTRAL are planes that will never be able to be merged. They are as far away from each other as anything can theoretically ever be, but not in time, and not in distance, but in TRUTH. I do not say that because of this, that truth is a dimension, however it almost is. The zero dimensional void infinity IS TRUTH, and that truth is a LACK OF ALL DIMENSION. How can anything really be real? How can things be created when there is just void, nothing? They CANNOT BE. However, we can, and do, learn to successfully DREAM OUT AND AWAY FROM THAT VOID LACK OF DIMENSIONAL TRUTH, and onto the lower ASTRAL PLANE, where from there, we further DREAM DOWN into physical material waking worlds, or the fifth dimensional hyperspace, that contains virtually endless and countless ’4-D’ parallel-universes, such as the one right here, where I am typing this message, and you are reading it. Well, we believe we are, when in TRUTH, we are always simply EXISTING at the void, or ZERO-D, and dreaming out and away from that, and into all of this,as nothing of this is real, but it is one hell of an illusion, or a DREAM.

Here is what I was interacting with in my thoughts, that were seemingly more real than any day or night in so-called waking life, that I can remember. To begin, I found myself on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic City; and for a brief moment, the same dream or whatever, that I was interacting in back on the morning of the 7^th of December of 1996; where the great Mary Tyler Moore was wearing her famous green dress and standing on a non existing balcony at the Trinidad Hotel, facing the street, as no balcony ever faced the street, only the pool and then the street or just the pool, but here in this experience, there were rooms facing the King Parking Lot and McGuire’s Hotel and Erin Bar, and balconies; and I had not yet met McGuire, nor had I even spoken with Misses Estelle Bassler. That all came some time in February and March of the following year of 1997, the year my mom fell savagely victim to almost a voo-doo curse type of unknown outlandish medical condition. We can get into that a lot more, at other future times, and blogs. The scene quickly turned to where I was up on the boardwalk at the Frailenger Salt Water Taffy Store, where in waking life, I spent many many times inside of, throughout my younger life. Suddenly, the GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE was just standing there, and we began talking as though the two of us had normal routine conversations there, every single day. I even remember thinking of my life, and not realizing I was ‘dreaming’, and thinking to myself, while we were talking; “Why does this feel so normal and every-day usual to me, just thinking nothing of talking to, and being with, the most beautiful giant teenager in the multiverse, like it’s nothing? Then we walked down to HER lovely shop where she told me to run up and down the street calling her name, and so I did this. Suddenly she and I were eleven years old, and it was the summer of 1966. I was wondering why my left wrist hurt me, and was all bandaged up. I then remembered that it was about six weeks earlier, when Bruce Walter, in Westmont, New Jersey, had chased me inside of my apartment, at 125-A, Haddon Hills; with a hellish tasting concoction; that he had made in my mom’s kitchen, and was going to force me to drink, because I would not stop cursing so badly. Sarah then walked with me to her upstairs area above the great shop, that Misses Bassler kept insisting was not where I know it was back in time, when I would speak to her often from my Somerdale home throughout most of 1997, after learning she no longer lived after 1974, at 30 South Plaza Place, in South Atlantic City, New Jersey; but instead had moved down to Northern Florida, to Ormond Beach; a place I would come to visit a dozen years in the future, on my drive down from Cifaloglio to Fort Pierce, in December of 2009. The minute I saw the area, I remembered it from countless recurring and repeating very vivid dreams, but this is just an added foot note, and we need now to go back to the point that is discussing this wild vivid dream of just this very morning. I swear this all happened in this powerful dream, so if anyone does not want to hear some powerful truth, maybe now is a good time to move over and read the blogs of Martha P. Hallaway, and Her Rare French Gold and Silver Coins Collection, or perhaps you might try the blogs of Donnie D. Dillinger, and his Life as a Florida Keys Painter; but if you remain here, you will hear some stuff, and what you hear may shock you a little. Hay, maybe you’ll just yawn and say, there goes Mountainpen, as usual, honey; pass me another biscuit, and another cup of tea; and definitely one for my pal, Patrick Jane, the disbeliever. But before I march things right along here, I owe some peeps an apology for my stupidity, and I will admit that when I am wrong and I get all spaced out over something, that indeed, I was; and will gladly say how very sorry I am, for being a dick head. Please accept my frikkin apology. I came to learn just this very day, and hour, that nobody hacked into my YOUTUBE ACCOUNT. This is just a random tool button that pops up on videos here and there, so people can make them better by improving the lighting or color, and what have you; as most things on the ‘YT’ are photographs, and moving images; where this would all pertain to. I am sorry for going off and getting pissed over nothing. What a dork I am, DUH!!!!!!! Just now, I’m back from a two hour break. I ate dinner, and saw the local and world news. It seems that Texas had a little rumble all its own yesterday, a small quake. If you don’t want too many nasty aftershocks, please back off this persecution, thank you, dick head twat chewers. Now back to my pal, and my continuing message to ADS. It is now 835 millidays, today, the 30^th and final day of September. The fourth quarter of 2012 is just a tad bit more than four hours away. As I said, I will try and tell my pal, if he is listening, on the BLOGGER site, as I don’t regularly post on any other site now, as this one brings the most accurate re-creation of my word document to the viewer. If this blog is appearing on any non blogger-dot-com website, and you are not reading it clearly, or the printed text appears to be crushed together, then revisit me where each post is put up in clear and ordered sequence, by clicking this following web-address:

http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/ and you will be able to see things much better, maybe not my message, but at least the printed words that make it up. Now, I will try answering what question I think you asked me, in fact, I think you already read my other message, and it may have inadvertently caused me to remember an Astral Plane experience, as remember good friend, they are not existing in a time continuum there, and we are here; so when you think that you are remembering any altered state of conscious thoughts and events, it has no time order referenced to you at the moment that you are remembering it. When you wake up and say, wow, what a dream, you did not just have a dream, nor are you just now remembering this. All things exist in void, later being dreamed down into the Astrality of existence, a starry and lighter realm. Then later, we dream down further into all of these ‘human dreams of caporial tangible material life’ that we call real or physical, totally in error, as reversing the truth just about always will equal or become a large majority of it. We see the Earth or any world we would be on as a flat surface. We see the sun going around us by rising in the east and setting in the west. It seems that it is quite normal that most things whether it be intentional or accidental, are all tricking our senses through some kind of reversal mechanism. If you could reverse the so-called smart money moves, all of them, on the stock market; and be wealthy enough to ride out the temporary swings against your positions; you would always win, and make the biggest money. Everyone in a majority, guesses wrong. Reversing the majority concept is always going to contain more of the truth and accuracy of any item that’s possible. Now, I believe that you wanted to know if a shared dreaming experience in the hyperspace, or down here in these parallel universes of waking world physicality; would effect, or be able to effect the Astral. The answer is always NO. All things are first real and true in the void. Then in the Phase-2, they are always most real and ahead of anything dreamed down from there onto 3rd lower planes or realms, such as waking world 5^th dimensional hyperspace. All that can happen in a reverse direction, is exactly what I think just happened, only I have yet to tell it; that is, my powerful full EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION OF THIS MORNING, with SSJKK, the All Mighty Goddess. I believe that because you and I have made contact on this computer, my friend ADS, this has happened. Still, until I totally know you, and we talk on e-mail, which will be coming to pass if indeed one of two possible things is the reality of this situation; as since I cannot undo the accidental erasure of your comment while attempting to reply to it, only the date would help me in making up my mind or ruling one thing out, as if it is back this spring, and only because of coinciding initials to something, it would make one huge thing a possibility and in the quanta waves, only finding out that you are not the person I think this could be or have been actually, then we will eliminate one thing, and as the Quantum Physicists say so well, the half alive and half dead cat will be caught, and no longer in the state of quantum flux. Either way, reality is reality. If you are still with me, alive, and reading this, and were thinking about the message that I just printed a couple days ago for you, then either way would explain what I used to call, the RPLDD, that we need not really fully examine right now. We will speak at more lengths about all this on future blogs, and I want to see if you have an active e-mail account. A lot of peeps tend to simply vanish out of existence, when they communicate with me; one way or the other. The main thing is not to fear these Shadows from hell, as their food and sustenance IS OUR FEAR. If we starve these monsters, they weaken, and even go away in time. If we feed them with our fear and give them glory, even as biblically spoken in scripture teachings and principles, especially in the religion and faith called, Christianity; then THEY TAKE HOLD and then THEY GAIN VICTORY OVER US, and only then, my friend. Now, since this still pertains to ADS, let me tell the rest of this powerful “DREAM” that woke me at 10:30 this morning with quite a bouncing bang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told how SHE told me to run up and down the street calling HER name, and how we ended up in the upstairs area above the Tennessee Avenue shop. SHE wanted me to open up the middle dresser drawer of a three drawer dresser, and I did, the very same one I had for many years and kept my own clothes in as a youth and even as an adult, and did not lose this piece of furniture until early-middle 1994, when I moved into the Highview Apartments, in Williamstown, New Jersey on April the first in 1994. When I opened this up, a large motorcycle chain was not inside this drawer, as I had totally expected it to be. Then SSJKK turned to me, as the eleven year old SARAH, who I knew from the middle sixties, and told me that SHE wanted the chain to be there, that I had it up in the future, and SHE went onto remind me of my two organizational ‘mentor big brothers’ that I had had, Fredrick Hinger from the Philharmonic, and later, John Henningsen from the Campbell’s Soup Company. She told me that John, the second BIG BROTHER, would be giving me this chain, and that I needed to keep my strongbox unlocked on an exact date, when December of 1969 rolls around. I have no memory of any of this in my so-called real or waking (life). I only remember the chain being in this strongbox, and then always locking it, as it also contained something that was not for my mother’s eyes, or any other nosy person who just might be poking around while I was not home at the Dellway Arms Apartments, and was off at school. All I remember in waking life is the powerful DREAM where SARAH took the chain away on a beach, and then placed it into her middle dresser drawer, above HER shop, in that upstairs area. SHE seems to have some kind of affinity with “UPPER ROOMS”, and then remember, MISTER KNOWSO know-it-all, that the very next day, was the day that I got onto the school bus to go to school, and suddenly, there was a gigantic three criss crossed perfectly angled CHEMTRAIL, that spread out all over the skies above Camden County, New Jersey, that early winter and early December day morning, back in 1969. This was not some ride through the desert, nor was this some, DREAM, as others refer to things in reverse. Still, and trying to stick to the point here, in the experience that I seemingly had this morning, by my reference to waking world time illusion, here is what frikkin played out, my pal, or well, until the cat is out of quantum flux, this is a non touchable subject, who knows? I suddenly remember a lot of haze, and trying to focus my eyes, that worked just fine until this haze just came suddenly bursting out of nowhere; and onto this ‘dream-scene’. I found myself taking the chain in 1969, and bringing it to SSJKK, now back in HER true form as the six foot seven inch goddess from SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, HER great city, that in some ways mirror images Atlantic City, as though Atlantic City is some shrunken down incredibly miniaturized version of the ‘real’ thing. SSJKK smiled at me and placed it into her middle drawer, and told me that SHE will sing my favorite song to me now, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”. I fell dead asleep in my own ‘dream’ right in HER arms. The next thing I knew, I was putting on the best clothes that I had, a nice suit that was given to me through the AARP Program and the man Trevor Watkins, who was my overseer there, and who had some kind of connections with the local area Salvation Army Store. I put on these really nice clothes, and drove in my car to an area like I never saw in my life. It was half inside and half outside, of something. It was, and it wasn’t, all at the same time. Even for me, like wow, this was totally off the wall frikkin’ weird. Then, I sat down on some bleachers, about midway up on them, at the left end of them, when they are facing me head on. There were no other bleachers, yet they were on the left side of something, of what I just cannot pull up. Suddenly a limo drove up, and Mariah Carey, the great recording artist; got out with a man, some white dude about thirty to forty, with average build and height, medium length hair for the styles of men today, brownish color, that was slightly balding; and was dressed immaculately, as was MC. She was wearing the huge motorcycle chain around her neck in a triple loop, and she sounded more like a house pet than a person when she walked over towards me, as a result. We talked, and it was as though we had met here and talked on many occasions. I remember thinking, why is this so normal to be with the greatest singer on the planet, as though this happened all the time? Then she asked me if I wanted to hear “the song”. I said of course I did, not knowing what was going on. Then she sang it to me, with her beyond beautiful voice. It was not a tune I recognized from anywhere in this world at any time, not even remotely. When this was done, she took off the chain and asked me if I wanted to wear it for a while. I was scared, and told her that SHE is the All Mighty Goddess, and that I had no business to ever wear HER great chain. She laughed softly, and told me that this chain is a lot more than I have come to yet figure out. Then she touched it, and instantly it became a smaller more normal sized chain made of beautiful topaz and diamonds, huge rocks an inch thick that had weird shapes, and were all connected by this solid silver but now, quite thin chain. I noticed a medallion on it at the bottom, and on it read ‘I AM 231′. Then the next thing I knew, I was awake back here in this very room, and it was about 10:30 AM, give or take a minute or two. I have not had this powerful an interaction with the All Mighty Goddess, in I do not remember how long, 2008 sometime or there about. This was the time they all began, and just kept coming, up through the Shop Rite purple highlights in the hair dream that is on my blogs. Anyway, for now this is enough about this powerful ‘DREAM’.

In closing for the night, my nabes are noisy, lots of doors, lots of activity, but nothing real super bad or loud, as though they know the limits, and know that they are being watched.

Very interesting things are happening all around both me, and those around me, and all over the area; but I am just keeping my mouth shut for right now. Mexico may be just a short time away, and then again, I may not go there for five thousand frikkin years. That’s on me, ZEEEEE.

ENDING TRANSMISSION, YO:

My machine is in 24 pieces, none of which R in my residence, and only I know exactly how 2 put it together and make it properly operate. Over the weekend last week, all my colored Christmas lights, that I use year round, as colored light is an automatic mood elevator, suddenly brightened to 3 times their norms, and grew deep pink in hue, and after 5 seconds, returned to normal as if nothing ever happened. Then the phone rings and I pick it up. A voice says to me, “if pink is not pretty enough, how about purple”. Then, click, and soon after, just a dial tone. Ever since, I am getting loud static on my line, and strange sounds of other types as well. When I try to call to retrieve a message from the Verizon answer call system, if the siege is bad as it has lately really been bad, I always hear a loud ‘CLINK’ sound right B4 the opening message welcoming me to their service. When I am not under the super siege, I do not, and as I have repeatedly said, we opened the door into their world through radio frequency, and the invasion began, basically around the end of the 19 forties, same as the rash of UFO sightings, none of which by any means is a coincidence.

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

Well people, it seems they are smart enough to just put the chemtrail poisons around me and not in ways that the winds will show any evidence of it from my Leprechaun ever-present spy-cam of my own. 'Perdy ferkin' clever, YO, right my loyals out here, YO?

DAUGHTER CODE-U-TUBE, with or without the chases.

July 17, 2011

“THE CAT LOVES HIS DAUGHTER”

DID THIS WITHOUT HELP FROM NICK: WOW.

Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?

THE CAT LOVES HIS DAUGHTER, SUBTITLED FROM:

mountainpenagain posted on Feb 18, 2009 | views: 37 | Tags: thanksgiving siege right on target

REPOSTED STILL AGAIN ON 09/10/2012, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY AWESOME SARAH-STACEY, SIXTEEN YEARS OLD FOREVER. WOW.

TO MY LOVELY DAUGHTER TECHNICIAN: AKA "DOC"

“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”

(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.

Long story short, the mail was always delivered here at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.

Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Callas, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! www.blogger.com/http/drunkenhive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?

GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.

E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.

Comments

anonymous said on Apr 02, 2009....

You shrunk a bit there dalmatian, but I saw you still speak the human lingo, wow, you are telling the truth, God is 16 or at least she watches the show.

Comment on "Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?"

This is YYYYYYYYYYYYY this poor dog should not live in this eternal doghouse, it is quite simple really. Let me explain things to you ladies and gentlemen.

BECAUSE IT IS UNFAIR

BECAUSE I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE IT

BECAUSE I AM INNOCENT

BECAUSE I AM IN AGONY AND TIRED OF BEING ENDLESSLY PERSECUTED BY ALL MIGHTY SCYLLA GODDESS.

BECAUSE I AM DAMMED IF I DO AND DAMMED IF I DON'T.

GET IT YET, GOOD FOLKS???????

Yes these enemies and this family, will keep me endlessly trapped in this nightmare fucking hellish doghouse, and why not, I appear to be Yancy, Isiscylla's eternal dog.

YES I AM HERE, IT IS ME, MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN.

MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN, © BLOGS 2006-2013

This will not be a blog about mysteriously brightening Christmas lights, or any of a meeeyun other parlor tricks generated by the Astral Plane Gods, Mister Phase-4 'arriver'. What it will discuss is as follows, L-4, and all good folks, or bad ones, depending on everyone and anyone's point of view I would suppose. These last seven years plus of my blogs, has been filled with miracles, wonder, magic, and all the rest of the collection of words that all make up the large font sized word of 'WOW'. Still, if I ever told a quarter of the real-wows, the physical life as I know it as me tonight, would be over by 2-4 in the morning somewhere, and I know that, totally. So I can never cross the line, not all the way, and won't, but I'll come close here and there. I began telling you a little bit about strobing light saucer helicopters and pulsar stars, as well as the fact that everyone of us, even ''super memories me''; has been targeted by the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND, or the ES, and not once or twice, not 100 or 300 or 5000 times, but more along the lines of this many times weekly. So you don't believe me or maybe you are half believing me, well, here this folks, no bullhorns, no megaphones, no nothing, DR. I CAN PROVE THIS TO YOU, BUT I DON'T FUDGING DARE! I could actually give you a few things to do in your own lives, and within 100 hours, unless my entire audience is THEM, and I like to think I have some real's in there mixed up somewhere, as long as they are not Tom's, or Wardens, right U-WITCH Glendora Mansions Paula? Before I get a tiny bit into things, not to far into it, yet a continued version from what I started half a dozen or so blogs ago about the human frail waking memory system, and the ES. Ling Long Henry Fonda has his own audio/video miracles in every bit a league of their own as much as the Real Good Girl MY recording back in 1986, but I need to remind folks, I rarely would have any occasion to be discussing thongs, so when you read in a blog, that I have the word thong, you can know it is another Ling-Long hockey stick wonder year sign, from the realm of typographical one letter away errors; and 'so sorry', Mister Ambassador of freaking Japan, YO.

There is a lot of hacking on the computer today, also over the past several days, and also, my attack on my television and video stuff is back; where the freaking ass remote control units do not wish to respond to commands, and are being jammed out, sir, and old pal from the early seventies, and now FCC Chairman, Bob McDowell. I no longer sit around making Timeless Satellite Calendars, but we sure did enjoy taping on the phone, did we not, and weeee, look at all the powerful shit that went onto happen, and I admit, this was years before I ever even met the great promoter, Lenny McKinnon.

Folks, can we stop the ES from their taking us and doing all the things that they do? Sure there is, you can jump off of the mother fucking Empire State Building. If that is not what you want to do, then forget it. I've been trying to fight the fucking gods for a trillion mother humping years now ladies and gentlemen, and as I said, forget it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know what I know, and I know most of the world thinks I have gone totally and completely mad, yet as I said; I could do something huge, and you would believe me; and then life as I know it would become fifty times worse for me, so no thanks, fella'. One huge sacrificer should be enough in this family, or so you might think. Jesus God. Speaking of not being profane about using the great name here, I want to thank my lovely Diana for flashing a beautiful bolt of her lightning at me earlier this evening around six or so in the evening. As always, you are beyond hot and beautiful, DZA. I would say, IWALU, but there is a huge Blueberry/Cranberry hyperspace problem, and a powerful entity out here knows it and is smarter than me a billion times over, by keeping it to herself. Still, I have a list of more than 700 pages on loose leaf notebook lined paper, of things that prove that the mathematical chance that all of these written down things, all happening the exact way that they have since my 70-day twilight zone off grid period of pure Potter Magic, would be in the range, and yes, you may not understand this number, but it is about one chance out of one times ten to the power of 233. Einstein does not understand this number either, so don't feel bad. No one understands it, anyone can say or write 1X10 exponent 233. You could put a dozen more zeros after it if you like, either way, the mind can never truly understand a reality of that numeration. This proves that I make none of these blogs up, and that this entire story all happened, from 1965 through right now in freaking 2013. Now whether or not the Steel Pier of Atlantic City was really a place of a secret murder, or the Huntington Bay for that matter; you know what; who cares? I sure know that I don't give a hoot pollute. But someone does. Someone cares so much in fact, that they went to lengths not humanly imaginable, just to get my voice recorded on tape, for that non tearing Native American anti-pollution commercial; and then broadcast my voice coast to coast, when I was only a youth; but at a precise time and age. All of this is why a great thing recently happened over at Vatican City, but you will never know this, or prove this. Only I can know that it is all the truth, and so, Mister Malyeska, that's the way it goes, with or without any of Atlantic City and its 10-SC avenue 'dangerous fields' of the Rodney Messenger Angel Club. See, it never stops, and it never will. I could blog for a million years, and the story will always come out true, in or out of 1984; and it will never seem to be able to grow a real honest back cover, either, WOW again, T.D. Macy from Canada, oh bonanza, or what a bonanza, right Cart??????????????? Or should that be Karpf-411? In any event, I really am so very happy for all of you Astral Plane Gods, all those nice pales of fish so fresh and new. This is me waving bye-bye, Sarah-Stacey Krassle, oh no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO Shorty MacInvondi, Crissake YO! Oh well, at least it snot Macintosh, or for that matter, the Oprah Brewster projects of majestic top secret hues, wheeeeeee! 657 and 123, codes we shared so secretly, and they add up to 780. There are folks out here who know the power of that wonderful #, my brother. But even a subtraction does not offer us anything to sneeze on, as 534 is every bit as wild, and only those who are meant to know why, do indeed know just why. Still, I pity the world. I am very very sorry everybody, for asking my teen queen to spare us, and keep her dollhouse open a while longer; back in that gorgeous garden. Hay Ed, I may have made you famous, YO, WHAAA!

What a long trip this has been there 601 trucker tripper, gee, and that is with or without the light shining on me, or for that matter, big guy, the most dependable audio bladder ever known to medical science back in Mashell Daniels 1980, and yes mahm, that is my entitled opinion; and we were coworkers, and no; you were way to pretty to be my mother, and you really told that Cooper Hospital male nurse a thing or nine that night, WOW; you go girl, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MORIANITY-PART 5, CHAPTER 12

2:22 AM-EDST, MONDAY MORNING, MARCH 18, 2013

MOUNTAINPEN, AKA MARK WAYNE MOHR

© BLOG URLS OF MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2013

If you can believe in all the shit that happens to me as merely a powerful stack of pure happenstance, over the only logical conclusion that something is and has been fucking messing with me since the day I have been born, then this proves how all minds indeed operate differently.

If you can honestly believe that after a solid ass year of trying to get money together so as to be able to resume music projects at the only sound studio in my county, and after finally accomplishing it and paying off my car so that two payments later as savings instead of going to the finance company, I could start operating again, remembering how things all changed after that fucking girl fired me at my part time job a year ago, Miss Jessica Throatavenues, from the Harvest FOC of FP, F; and just at this perfectly timed day almost, I get that phone call that the place is no longer operating past next week. If they were the kind of peeps that Jan Nace was, back in 1977-1980, up in Jersey, at the Maxfield Studio; that would have been the end of my fucking ass greedy fisherman song, as they would just wipe it out. Anyone who knows or knew, the All mighty Jane Nace; would not argue with me. He had the personality of a lizard, and the pity of Ebeneezer Scrooge in his life before the awakening through Charles Dickens.

Now folks, this is just the very very very very very fucking most recent coincidence, especially regarding me trying to do ANYTHING that pertains to fucking MUSIC. I told the blogs years ago, how my friend David seemed to also be under this very same 'music curse', along with me, and how in just his most recent episode with this invisible monster; he went to get into his car, to drive over to a Philly music store, and he turned the key, and the car blew up; not like in the 'Casino' Movie, but you all know what I mean. It was a Cadillac car in good condition, and all was fine, and he was so happy, and all excited about purchasing a cool set of fucking drums, and bang; that was fucking it for the drums. People who have their entire lives go this way without any break off, or exception; are then punished even fucking further, by a very nasty mean intolerant society that refuses to entertain the smallest possible notion that something is going on, BEHIND THE FUCKING SECRET OZ CURTAINS, my friends and foes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is fucking ass bad enough that peeps like us had to endlessly suffer, and at least he woke up out of this world hell illusion in early March of OHM-2, but here I AM, dogfood and fucking all, and DOGHOUSES 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then not a fucking soul believes the story, nor has the tiniest fucking tear to shed for you; oh no, you're just a whining, complaining, bellyaching, annoying, fucking pain in the dead head asshole little fool, that's all, and nothing else; so go shut the fuck up, and cry into your pillow, YO. This is the fucking shit that I call, for obvious reasons; the powerful horrendous mother fucking HUNTINGTON CURSE, YO!!!!!!!!

Hello to you too, Jupiter freaking Lighthouse. Hay Sarah, R-U gonna' lock me up inside that one too, and then what are you gonna do with Billy-H., as he is not in my area, PTL-PR!

Morianity Foundation, re-posted from 2007

This foundation is the invention of a man who has been the victim of terrible harassment for many years, from powerful high profile people that ruined his life. It is his sincere desire to someday have a place where people such as myself, can come to, to assist them from any and all persecutions from anyone or group; all within the laws of the United States, and the world.

EVERY

GOOD

BOY

DOES, FACE THE CURSE, IF CHOSEN!

To more clearly get the picture here, you may need to be reading this at the blogger dot com website, use the link if you are somewhere else, folks.

Http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

I know that there are a lot more mysterious things going on in my mother fucking absurd life than this music bullshit thing, but it still bugs the living fuck out of me. It is things like this that will never release me from my upbringing no matter how enlightened I get, that both SATAN and JESUS CHRIST and his magic blood to cover sins, is all real, and totally fucking true. I have tried to shake that shit all my life, and I cannot, no matter how mother fucking hard I shake. Saints and sinners 4 crissake, what is going fucking on, YO???????????????????????????????? Hay, even the dam ex-Pope was curious, and the story has been told. Do you really think I'd lie about something this fucking huge and holy????????????????????????????? Cut me a break, Margie fucking Leo, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know I told about an ancestor of mine who was always called, and this was a very long time ago in the early middle eighteen hundreds, ''the dude''. He dressed like Rockefeller, and no he was not that rich. He left his wife, Sarah Huntington Eastman, at a young age, and disappeared out to San Francisco, and not all that far from Google Street. He never got old, he just kept staying 30 forever. He was 95, and still had thick black hair, and still ran down the street like a twenty year old. One day he tried to off himself, and was smashed to bits by a street car, right after they were invented. He lived through it and was in the hospital and finally, woke up out of his HUNTINGTON CURSE. Yes, Mister Macy and TD Bank, I agree with you, W---O---W! And as I mother fucking speak, the death android, Morty Mortino just fucked me real fucking good at 3:03 AM, buzzing on my fucking right side, and when I went to swing at the bastard, my hand struck my keyboard at its corner, and hurt my fucking index finger knuckle. It just now stopped hurting, I heel very quickly, FUCK YOU, ya' bastard ass bitch! This is starting out as a real fucking bad ass day, YO YO YO YO YO. But am I hated because they know I did it better, and can pick it right to the letter, United States 1988 Copyright Office Examiners? Maybe this will bounce off deaf ears. But back to my cursed ancestor 'The Dude', whose name I have forgotten presently. There are secret cults in Frisco, whose descendants knew him, and have formed a cult, with him as their deity; or so I was told recently by a very trustworthy source. Yeah, you picked one hell of a god to worship, a cursed fucking ass Huntington. Still, he did own a large beach at one point, just as his father owned nearly all of Suffolk County in New York. whoopdeedo, big deal, like anyone including me could really give a fucking shit, huh distant cousin. Tell your old pal Stevie Lose he is nothing but a crybaby hoax-man, him and his going fucking blind. The bastard is 30 fucking years older now and still sees 5 times better than I do, you're all a bunch of asshole insecure publicity seekers, prove me wrong, and I'll give you five meeeyun dollars, cuzz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What, one minute you like hate my president, now you suddenly like him, Jeese-Louise; I don't know about leaving your worries behind there pal, but man, make up your friggin' mind, YO! WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!

MORIANITY PART 5

CHAPTER XIV, no bells or whistles, YO.

3:56 AM-EDST, MARCH 20, 2013, WEDNESDAY MORNING

As told before, memory and time manipulation are like the coins in your pockets. There will never be one that does not have two sides, yet still being one coin. Two faces of the same thing is not always something that any of us think much about, and I am no exception whatsoever. If I was, I would not have isolated a lot of events in my own life in this current one, in the 4-5 dimensional mind of existence; said non college style, as me, or Mark Wayne Mohr. I would not have been the hugest asshole fool in the universe for so long, seeing the events from 1980 for example, as not all part of this one coin. I would not have said over and over on seven plus years of blogs now that there are so many things to tell, this is a lie I have now realized I've been telling myself. I can say let me share a trillion parts to my story, but a single story it is ladies and gentlemen. This is not, nor ever was or will be, a bunch of books. I am not the great Patterson author, or any other for that matter, with various books written to share with you. This is all one thing, one true piece of reality, the name all along implies this is so, never calling it anything other than Morianity, no matter what chapter or part or other title is given. So for example, electrician Joe from the licorice plant in 1980 was told about a powerful entity from Atlantic City, and then the stranger not by Paula Twitchell's river, suddenly just ''pops up'' on Browning Road in Lawnside, New Jersey, be they townships or lawns, green, extra green, or brown in the drought; but again, all things are but small little cosmic numbers; but who amongst us is ever going to be smart enough to be able to solve the greatest cosmic equation ever attempted, when the universe as a collective, has only so far reached the point of where things all are? So am I running, or trying to, ahead of this flow, and could this be why things for me have been so ultra fucked up for 30-60 years? Who can ever know, or do enough breath echos, epitome tapes in the late eighties, or car commercials of recent times. Then there is fourteen years later past the year of 1980 and 1802 Robin Hill Apartments of Voorhees, with or without crying Paula King's, or other strange unidentified royalty. Take the book I wrote in 1994 called, “The Permission Barrier”, as just one example. Of course, only the copyright examiners would know what I am talking about, or the powerful WO peeps who can go get any of my stuff and listen to it, at the LOC in Wash-Doc. My mind is as much trapped in illusions as anyone else's whether or not I realize it or wish to fucking admit this truth to my own dam self, Mister Buffetkeys. Of course, in a linear timeline illusion that waking conscious mind insists on creating for the creation of our normal everyday physical lives, these events tell a story, seem to make sense in a time order, and have more built in intrigue and mystery than any and all fictional books ever written, all combined. But it is normal while alive and awake, no matter how enlightened; to start looking at all of the things told on these 7+ years of blogs now of Mountainpen, without allowing it all to jump out as a oneness, as when one forces that issue; that is when the heart races, the palms sweat, and the mind is correctly translating the truths. This could be a 500 page blog without one single cut and paste, just from this little introduction and opening, but I choose for now, to merely say only these words, Mister Maverick Rockford, as later, we can always get back to this, with or without some loose teeth. We need not view photos of Robin Hill, or see my ugly old puss, or for that matter, view the Leprechauns of Jupiter Inlet, Florida. We don't need a lot of underscoring and highlighting, or capitalizing or larger font words, or even altering hues, on the twenty-fifth of December, or on any other day where mood elevation is required. This is a time to tell a short powerful truth, and really do it, as David Roth put it so well around 1997, give or take; in a madonnashell. Again, the farm in or outside of Haddonfield, New Jersey, always is right there; but along with all of the rest of it too. You cannot see it separately and expect the truth not to come out. Still, the reason I saw a lot of things as broken separate things is the same reason that human beings could not dare see Jesus with their eyes, and not somehow see him a bit differently. This is so powerful. Jesus did not look one bit different. But people don't rise from the dead. So when things like this happen, we have to somehow believe around it and not directly 100% on it, as doing so would wipe out our sanity. I mean really folks, what possible reason would Orwell have for writing all that wild stuff, and then place it in the year of magic? Then going back again to eighty, what possible in a trillion eons reason, would I have out of nowhere, for falling asleep and dreaming the incredible 'Love is for Carpenters' song, as well as the awesome girl singing it to me? Then finally, because the entire deal goes beyond what normally is allowed via the cosmic Lawtronic circuitry or AKA the seventh-dimension, I had to see it a bit separate and a little differently, than it really was all along; just as the folks saw Jesus physically as appearing somewhat different, when in fact good people, he did not look at all differently. In a way, this is just a huge exaggeration of an equal truth that some may remember me discussing a while back when I was fifteen years old, and I called it the 'Venka Strong-Girl Syndrome'. In any event, at least she only opened a Mary Mick Paint jar in an art class, and did not throw a shark through a NYC condo window. Still, those pesky little TPB Numbers that are always endlessly attempting to fit so perfectly together, remain trapped inside the interaction of everything that includes all of us with no exception. If you let yourself dwell enough on it, a lot of stuff about STM will come much clearer in your mind, with or without Petee Pote, Sheri-Lee Pote, tap tiles, changing newspaper print, counting coins in a father's pocket, television imitators complimenting my great data; and on and on we could go, from here to crying Native Americans in canoes. Hay, at least nobody shot the dam guy thinking he was cheating on a spouse, when he was innocent. So go name your summer camp whatever you like, granddaddy, YO. It all fits as smoothly as a woman's expensive glove, from the swing bat. Not one thing was out of place. You couldn't knock a block out of this building, even if you had 1,000 Osama Bin Laden's to help you to do it; or letters to Samsonite Luggage, or NYC Architecture firms for name ideas. Then how can we forget hyperspace daughter Pee with her great E-Bay inventions? Now the 3-D laser printers are starting to happen. All that is left really, is for Professor Jackson to come onto the soon-scene, and go BOO. DUH, right Annie? MORIANITY PART 5,

CHAPTER XV

THURSDAY, 21 MARCH, 2013, 12:41 AM-EDST

Here is what the evil SATAN has done to me today, if you wish to keep the Catholic Church happy with their exact nomenclature.

I did not get up, watch ''Leave it to Beaver'' on television, go to work, pet a stray cat, and come home. Nor did I keep the Beaver's famous diary of boredom, that frightened his parents half to death. Only real fans of the show have a clue what I'm talking the fuck about, any-ha. Rather, what did occur was as follows: I awoke late around half past one yesterday afternoon, Wednesday afternoon. All was fairly quiet until a horrible mother fucking door slam at about 8:40 PM just out of nowhere. This has been a contrast, as even though these ass-wipes do go in and out, a number of times twice a day, at late morning, and mid afternoon; and then sometimes evening and late night times as well; but this week has been a bit quieter. When this one particular jit bag is over in there, he is the real fucking door slammer. This monster prick scum bastard knows that he is doing it on purpose, and has hated me ever since the fucking cunt day that he arrived in this building, for reasons only known by this sick shithead, or his master, Satan-2005 Nikolai, from Left Behind World at War, Afro-American Presidents, and the weird effects of electronic-metaphysics; but all that extra hyperbole is neither hair nor Donna Adrian Gaines there. But this is not where things really started, because 40 minutes earlier at the stroke of fucking eight, the computer pops on all by itself with another mother fucking invasion from the Microsoft dirt bag Corporation, that loves to insist on doing updates to the machine, that most of the time, end up fucking your shit all to hell, and screwing crap all fucking cunt lapping up. This is not the first time, as it seems to happen every other Wednesday, at eight of the clock in the

Post Meridian, as I never forget fucking shit; my good folks.

So after the 8:00 and the 8:40 bullshit, my next two attacks were the clock on the computer being set back by an hour again, and I had to reset it, and then just now, a few lines back, I typed in the word 'of' and retyped it, after looking up and seeing the fucking word 'ODF' come out instead, via Microsucks hacking. Yes, that great Trinidad Broadcasting Network, TBN, Fort Pierce, Florida's Comcast Cable Channel number 10, (Trinity) if you happen to be not residing in the great southwest-world, right lovely Connie Ruby-Rosa? Now here is a fox worth burning in hell for, and all guys know it! Yes, they had a great movie that I may have mentioned once before someplace, within my last seven plus years of blogging. Its name, “Left Behind, World at War”, from 2005. I find a lot of things that most good people just so readily and willingly accept in human life; 2B just too bizarre to be randomly coincidental. They are all happening for a precise fucking ass reason, and I know it, and if you wish to believe me or not believe me, well; viva America, or what the hell's left fucking of it, and freedom, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, my 70-DAY OFF-GRID time in 2008, is a story that has no way of being told, since my memories have been messed with, and all I have is the same access to the same blogs that any of you do also; and all of my cassette taped journal of my life, was all destroyed; and this obviously was all long planned quite fucking meticulously, by the great SATAN, and all that this word can ever really truly stand for, depending on who any of you are, and what your actual personal religious or atheistic beliefs or non-beliefs may be. Still, we're now gonna' fucking discuss the middle February through middle May of OHM-8 'right here and right now', if I have the unwritten permission from lovely Anita Van-Buren from the 'Law and Order' television show. I think I fell madly for her when I saw her once from Mullica Township on a show from somewhere between 90-92, and she was not a police person, but a lovely lady from good old Harlem. Wow World Labs, do the coinkeedinks ever ever stop, or does it just keep going faster and slower, and flowing along like a Robert Andrews river from good old Mashell opinionated nineteen-hundred and eighty????????? A, what can I can say here Tony Lightboss? If you really wanna' keep the ES out of your head, and don't like the Empire State Building idea, and forget it any-ha, as there are huge fences up there so you cannot jump; but you need to understand my old discussions called the ''Danza-Discovery'', and we need not discuss any of this right now on this exact whittle bwog, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. AO, OA, and the rest of good old NYC, but moving this right along folks; lotsanlots of shit happened at the Highview Apartments, including the conception of my wonderful awesome PEE. Now the 3-D laser printers have finally come out, and the E-BAY peeps are just about to cash in on some wild new shit, that was all told about back in the early blogging days from 2006-2008 up in fucking Jersey. The gods help me Archie Bunker, right dude? Oh and I fucked up, it was Sarah Eastman who married into the family a long time back, marrying old Dude Huntington, as told on that previous blog. You cannot marry into it, and then catch our curse. It does not work like the fucking flu virus and then too much making out crap, sorry, my error. I do not even remember his dam name, another blocked gap out, and all of them seem to be ''family-related'' and honestly folks, no pun intended there, WHAAAAAAAAA!

Yes, that magic 'leppy' time circa of good old mid month 2 through mid month 5 of oh-eight. Well, at least the Jupiter Inlet has high technological explanations for how we can keep snapping a different time shot of their beach water bridge camera down there, but as for the magic and parlor tricks involved with all the shit, not only in these 75 days or so give or take; but really; ever since my going into trance, and rehearing the way SSJK sang her song to me from 1980 called, “Love is for Carpenters”, from work somewhere late in 2006; and redoing it myself, on a cheap little karaoke machine. But still, it was this period where my blogs totally ceased, that my life altered, and anyone reading my blogs, from January through June, or the entire first half of the year of 2008 of these blogs; knows this is not something you will find anywhere else on the internet; not when a family from behind the universe itself is all involved, and were all along. But like the Holy words separate the Old and the New Testaments, this magical period, where I was off-grid; distinctly shows a time both before and after, my ever becoming personally privy to these folks of WASHCLOTH NIGHTMARES; at least since they began in that form at Tom Reale's home, on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, back in 1970. Oh sure, shit like this is all over the fucking net. Why not tell me some more gigantic fish tales? A family continued to appear to me in some type of outlandish consecutive serial repeating dreams while I was staying at that child molester's home that summer, back in '70.

Good Morians, and all of L-4 and even 'beyond', let me tell you a little quick thing here before signing off and crashing into bed. Just as they say on the Law and Order, the promoters of the show themselves, and since so much of it seems to revolve around me and my life, right down to its beginning shortly after my first meeting at the Camden County, New Jersey, Prosecutor's Office, on December 5, 1989; and I'll quote them, “You just can't make stuff like this up”. As usual, these folks are far beyond 100% correct and on the dam money. Take that to the bank, and please, fave bank, please; let me have my wonderful WOW-TRUCK back. I really miss it, and I really miss my wonderful Stacey. Living here in mortal life is pure hell, beyond anyone's concept, once they remember while awake; HER, and HER great city.

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.

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU 100% machine created, tkpop.

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.

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!

HAVE A VERY NICE DAY, PEOPLE.

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

VIDEO LINKS FOR BLOGS, FROM YOUTUBE POSTINGS:

http://youtu.be/b7SDlGBxgLs

http://youtu.be/yhbXDDSPkos

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQPoNT0RQDs&feature=share&list=PL3FD8D98A43AA899D

http://youtu.be/RDDfkKEa2ls

http://youtu.be/6MUYsIjTKvk

http://youtu.be/4ct5_5kzh_0

http://youtu.be/IxDD4pfIa3I

http://youtu.be/q-r4DGx04gI

http://youtu.be/lOTc91lHbbQ

HERE ARE A WHOLE LOT MORE OF THESE GREAT WONDERFUL

VIDEO LINKS TO BLOGS, FROM YOUTUBE:

http://youtu.be/qrDM9NbgJHM

http://youtu.be/S8Bm6ydU6Fw

http://youtu.be/PBEO0PgA1mY

http://youtu.be/0sQhiHwdMXc

http://youtu.be/e_SG3Hg2Q8c

http://youtu.be/Vfc0lEnxEWs

http://youtu.be/w-AW5l6XqaQ

http://youtu.be/o0gBoV0ygJc

http://youtu.be/O9wXZ06Pqfg

http://youtu.be/7uMUQWuq9XI

http://youtu.be/iFR0w6wcXeQ

http://youtu.be/D0T1Vi4mDJY

http://youtu.be/Vyn73ARRKls

http://youtu.be/fOthspc9cIE

http://youtu.be/tW4nyzXPDbE

http://youtu.be/HZ_W3EAfp6I

http://youtu.be/30KfPtHec4s

http://youtu.be/G-R8LGy-OVs

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

http://youtu.be/MBzx_3eOyZA

http://youtu.be/xabAcgvW0Zg

http://youtu.be/tL_Ea-LWwAc

http://youtu.be/jsTaF5gWDpM

http://youtu.be/yNfd9mxqyMk

http://youtu.be/payut3pRR_Q

http://youtu.be/8pibXy_prlE

http://youtu.be/7t9FRelqEf8

http://youtu.be/uIi4V5nuUEs

http://youtu.be/8BBjUMC_CDY

http://youtu.be/6UE613nRFik

http://youtu.be/b54AgGjr3YY

http://youtu.be/YG-X-njPkwg

http://youtu.be/RlKxI8HcdWI

http://youtu.be/lXdxbPSnemQ

http://youtu.be/3VPz7TYNM-A

http://youtu.be/JRegd02Qiew

http://youtu.be/1QztwBzcVaw

http://youtu.be/MwqdK1V1kOk

http://youtu.be/a5mYFJ4irxM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbXMQOulkpA&feature=share&list=UU6bGMnAB0bt7za034r8syAg

http://youtu.be/GiSauu_aJRw

http://youtu.be/GAXzicwhcHI

http://youtu.be/bfke97PmDa4

http://youtu.be/TOaSGmQjkq0

http://youtu.be/sGQS343GIsg

http://youtu.be/Xh0DTfXWXrQ

http://youtu.be/1sMnB45JJG8

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/tx65EeLk4Ro

http://youtu.be/lOTc91lHbbQ

http://youtu.be/NxpO-qu51pE

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/XIB564U1RV4

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

http://youtu.be/PQ1B29G7ujg

http://youtu.be/nqQwrHoRuAE

http://youtu.be/jf0khstYDLA

http://youtu.be/syvQkviPdDE

http://youtu.be/pPdOK9w2P00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNqUnDzL5q8&feature=share&list=SP4FBBE16E3FAACDBA

http://youtu.be/RbF5tBCBRr0

http://youtu.be/TKvDcoE8AGc

http://youtu.be/SzH7HJLEJmc

http://youtu.be/VVJldn_MmMY

http://youtu.be/O90lSMmTjjo

http://youtu.be/5cecky3pvxc

http://youtu.be/4RXPJmqkxmI

http://youtu.be/8zYM-unUeNY

http://youtu.be/-3_SYhito-k

http://youtu.be/WbM3AnGupyc

http://youtu.be/ioktO7d-jvs

http://youtu.be/_V-LkoGhEfQ

http://youtu.be/o6KctnOYCVo

http://youtu.be/bDkXugVdYAE

http://youtu.be/aYk6y32z63Y

http://youtu.be/TOaSGmQjkq0

http://youtu.be/eCRDN2ZwVNQ

http://youtu.be/UhtKFHVwaOQ

http://youtu.be/F-8G9PbMZaI

http://youtu.be/zVC1qDZm4bA

http://youtu.be/ljRKhZ81aqY

http://youtu.be/8VIQgQVumB4

http://youtu.be/xRSjzY0s0SM

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/AtGykw-GQEE

http://youtu.be/hH0A4zj-pYQ

http://youtu.be/plQ4wrZvGlI

http://youtu.be/Jx52Z9DrFeY

http://youtu.be/eGguwYPC32I

http://youtu.be/e7D3_eGaO5k

http://youtu.be/JgALlSPlZC8

http://youtu.be/dMKCldqkoHw

http://youtu.be/cGmLRSWuUwY

http://youtu.be/ZPP54S_0WS0

http://youtu.be/OUZktdjy2w0

http://youtu.be/qF1dRiqrR1Y

http://youtu.be/Ik6tx63lVEI

http://youtu.be/PBEO0PgA1mY

http://youtu.be/SQnduidUkfw

http://youtu.be/7FyEZD-FwKw

http://youtu.be/Ik8gEKzhsao

http://youtu.be/i28Fh6nTGyQ

http://youtu.be/hdMKVXsYeos

http://youtu.be/xducBSS0zwE

http://youtu.be/_2fkjQoUt-o

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/PQ1B29G7ujg

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

http://youtu.be/XIB564U1RV4

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/dMKCldqkoHw

http://youtu.be/V01iOLbL72k

PLEASE DON'T SAY THAT I NEVER GAVE YOU ANYTHING FOR CHRISTMAS, AS I DID A LOT OF WORK FINDING THESE LINKS; AND ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS ONE LITTLE CLICK, AS LONG AS YOU ARE READING THIS BLOG, AT EITHER THE BLOGGER OR WORDPRESS, WITH AN ACTIVE INTERNET. I ASSURE YOU, THERE IS NO REASON FOR ALARM. UNDER PENALTY OF PERJURY, I SWEAR UNDER WEIGHT OF FULL PROSECUTION, THAT THERE IS NO VIRUS, OR ANY KIND OF TROUBLE, CONNECTED WITH CLICKING ONTO ANY OF THESE LINKS; AND I ALSO ASSURE ALL OF YOU, THAT THIS WILL NOT CAUSE ANY DESTRUCTIVE STORMS, OR ANY DISTURBANCES OF ANY KIND; AND IF ANY DO COME, IT IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL, AND IT IS NOT INTENTIONALLY RESULTING, FROM ANYONE CLICKING THESE SITE LINKS.

IF MY DAUGHTER WANTS SNOW, SHE CAN ASK CALLIO. Well people, let me close this down for now. But if they keep harassing me folks, and Governor S. Muscles, before you can terminate me or rip off my tapes from the side of the road, I'll be bahk.

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Thursday, March 21, 2013

MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 16, I NEED HELP FBI AND STATE POLICE

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Chapter 2 (HELP ME JOHN JUDY)

Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?

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MOUNTAINPEN, AKA MARK WAYNE MOHR

Morianity Foundation, re-posted from 2007

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