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MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTERS 1-5, KING NEBNOOSHOO
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SPOILED BRATS BORN WITH SILVER FRIKKIN SPOONS UP YOUR ASSES!
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(YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER), AND WITH NO MEMORY OF THE ROAD TRIP, HUH? WOW!!!!!
MORIANITY-5 THE OPENING, CHAPTERS 1-5
EARLY ON SUNDAY EVENING, 03/10/2013
This entry was posted on December 29, 2012 at 12:26 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site. Edit this entry.
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MORIANITY—–5, CHAPTER 00001
3:12 AM-EST, THURSDAY, 03/07/2013
BEGINNING OF THIS BLOG:
This little tweet blog is to tell a short few things real quick, and get off the computer. I do not have time to waste on a lot of fucking bullshit. Many things are fucking going on all around both me, and my life, that are nobody’s freaking business other than mine. Normally my life is an open book, but for a while, this may alter.
I am not going to talk about the lawyer I met yesterday, nor am I going to discuss my moving plans or whether or not I will re-up on my Public Housing lease come the first of freaking April. Again, this is my own private bees wax.
If time travel is a hoax, then explain the 6-9 rooms with no hallways and windy drafty doors that slam, and Dawn hollering to mommy Ann, ‘Quit slamming the doors’, at Judge Frank Raso’s home, next to the church that our POPE visited while I was being kidnapped there under the medically accepted and recognized term of Stockholm Kidnapping Syndrome, back in autumn 2008. Then take the blogs of the starting of the summer that year, and tell me that the the greatest pop diva of all time, does not have this wild ability to do this. She’s already so pissed off at me, it makes little difference if I throw this up or not, but I refuse to sit here being laughed at while multiple mere hoaxes are scattered all over the internet, and my stuff is real, and stands the test of real Project Bluebook scrutiny.
You know, you all go do whatever makes you happy, and believe what you want. Obviously, Morianity has started a new direction on this date, and that again, is my own private bees wax; so go eat your cereal kids, and pretend it’s Block Party Summer on Nick at Night, and it’s 1994 all over again.
I can look at anyone square on and straight faced, as I have nothing to hide, nor to gain; with some ridiculous hoax. My 58.25 years of life, cannot ever be fully recorded; but the condensed story of my lifetime, is on the seven years of these blogs. In 2009, some of the stuff needs be accessed at http://www.mountainpen.wordpress.com/ as the Blogger hacked me out in half the summer that year, three times my blogs have been fucked with and illegally stopped, recently, and then in rockin’ robin tweety bird 2010, and then in the summer time of 2009, all three times, catapulting their filthy stock market world of greed and dirt bag avarice; all at my mother fucking expense. A child knows that a lot of shit can be learned by visiting my Youtube site that will be gone forever very shortly, your loss folks, not freaking mine.
Http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/
THIS BLOG IS ENDING FOR RIGHT NOW, YO! WHAAAAA!
MORIANITY—–5, CHAPTER 00002
2:23 PM-EST, FRIDAY, 8 MARCH, 2013
QUINTESSENTIAL BIPOLAR REALITY ALL AROUND ME
STARTING ANOTHER TWEETY-BIRD BLOG FOLKS:
For the past (two) (tow) days, I have been under a real weird swinging pendulum, as well as right now as I speak, that mother fucking enemy motorbike dude that has yet to be arrested for disturbing the peace, is blasting his dirt bag pipes at half past tow-two-toe. Yes peeps, I am slow from time to fucking time, and have recently come to realize that the auto mechanic would be quite involved in things such as repairing automobiles, putting gasoline into them, and towing them when necessary as well, as in the word TOW, or spoken the same way as another word, yet has an entirely different meaning, TOE. Peeps have known for a long time that ‘dreams’ are very symbolic, but do not understand what they are saying when making this statement, not in full. So now I will (use) (sue) a little bit of Morianity to better detail and elucidate all this freaking bull crap.
The simple reason for this is because dreams occur in a parallel and similar realm and reality from where we were when our bodies fell asleep and caused us to have this ‘dreaming-experience’ or hyperspace interaction; and thus, in one ‘world’ in similar enough localized hyperspace, a man is a mechanic and may decide to tow your car after putting some gasoline into it at a pump up in New Jersey, and finding that it would not turn back on, where in another ‘world’, that same mechanic may be a horrible bully, and things are different enough to where he puts $18.60 in the tank and fills it up when all you have is five dollars and tell him to put in five dollars, something Floridians and most residents of the United States do not identify with, as they must pump their own gasoline; but where this monster ass guy works, instead of towing it from the pumps into the garage bay, he takes out an ISIS pick, and does a wild number on a fellow customer’s toes and feet tops, as was spoken of in a recent blog regarding a horrific ass ‘monster nightmare’, describing this in forward-mortal language wordage system. We can always get back into more of this, and yes we will, but this is not the true topic of today’s little blog, good people. Yesterday and today, my day swings back and forth between small catastrophe’s and small extra good stuff, bing boom, bing boom, yin, yang, yin, yang; it really is the epitome of a bipolar condition, only not in my mind, but with the events that are surrounding my so-called, ‘real life’!
For the sake of safety, and don’t let me underplay my words here folks, I cannot detail each swinging thing, back and forth; but it is a major Wildwood transdimensional roller fucking coaster ride, even if I’m forced to say so myself, YO. What I’m willing to in fact tell you is as follows. It began around the ending of yesterday, Thursday morning, or somewhere shortly into the afternoon, by minutes at latest; but I was in a powerful dreaming-interaction, and was in the year 2340. Donna Summer, who as some know, I retraced as Labber Zeejins, and let the other copy remain in the year 1979 which grew older and eventually left this life as a result of some type of lung cancer, or so I’ve been told, so this is hearsay information. Everything one Google’s up, is recorded by the world owners forever, and so I try to stay away from this new age junk, as my life is simply not their fucking business. All they’ll do anyway is tease and taunt me whenever any ammunition is ever given to them, such as letting them know the slightest thing about your private life, and thanks to dirt bag NBC-TRUMPFIRE, they all know all about me any-ha, so I’m screwed before I open up the dam door; but yes, Donna was standing on some balcony above me, and was with a few of the King family members, and someone was shouting down at me that she was there, and I yelled up at her, the very same thing that good old lovely goddess Leticia Tilley, used to make me say real loudly to her, every single time back up in Jersey, that I would pick her up at her house in Egg Harbor City, just blocks from the magical dream school of detentions, magical daughters, and first airplane flight by Wilbur and Orville Wright, more than a hundred years ago, in Kitty Hawk, NCUSAESMWG. I found myself gazing up at her, and saying very loudly to her; “Hay girl”. She then said back to me, “Go back to twenty-thirteen where you belong, you bastard sound copier”. Well, I was a sound copier back in 1979-1981 at the RPL Recording Studio, and my actual job title was, TAPE DUPLICATOR. I then yelled up, “I left RPL in March of 1981, gorgeous”. Then she yelled back down to me, “I’m not talking about what you did at your job, you shit head”. Then with that she was gone. Ever since I awoke from this wild ‘dream’, things have been off the scale way up and way down, and if I ever told it all, you would not believe me, and if you did, you’d go fucking crazier than Chemtard Mountainpen is, so why even bother to try, YO? The last straw of this still ongoing bipolar reality condition around me was just an hour or so ago with my resident manager, Debbie Marotto. She first made my day lousy by telling me I failed my inspection, and needed to take care of some stuff, which I will do before the re-inspection this coming fucking Wednesday. But then amongst my papers in envelopes, she found something that saved me close to a bill, and a trip somewhere that I did not feel like going on today, so when all was said and done, I was able to come back upstairs to my unit, do this blog, and then I plan to try and relax, and watch a movie later on; depending on whether the Attorney General, and the State Police are vigilant and watching over me, or will back off the protection, and allow my filthy fucking WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE enemies, to keep striking me with never ending pummeling, and endless fucking ass persecution. This little example is just the latest one folks, out of about 5 things just like this; ever since popping out of that wild shit with Donna. Sorry if my Techno-pop Engineering pisses artists off so much, as I think it is fun; and by the way, your licenses only go back to the date that you are a recording artist, not years before. So I did not feel I did anything wrong, in either case; but do not despair; as very soon, all my shit will be down, and off the fucking system. Be that way, dumb world.
Tweet tweet tweet, let this poor old bastard fragile little rockin’ robin go you know what; don’t want to rip off any old songs, even though a ton of mine have been torn into, finally I’m free, yeah right, you country Clariton Clear bumpkins; like Isis is ever gonna’ really set me free. So why does my freaking star shine so bright all through the coldest darkest night, Gerald Pliner? That’s no fucking plagiarism, YO. It may be a bit bumptious or flippant of me, but then, I’ll worry about the great face punches of Dawn-Marie King, and Mashell Daniels, later on, when I deal with both it; and Egg Harbor City; Terry Scatterbrain Glasseshater. Color me what Ashley Tinsdale? WOW, if time travel is bullshit, so are the nuclear disasters of Chernobyl, and Three Mile Island. YO!
I will now end this whittle bwog, sir Elmer freaking Fwudd. WHAAA.
MORIANITY-5——CHAPTER 00003
TEN MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT, 8 MARCH, 2013
THIS BLOG STARTS HERE FOLKS:
WELL, IF MY MEMORY SERVES ME AND IT USUALLY DOES, I TOLD YOU GINA, AND EVERYONE ELSE, THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULDFLY THESE TWO WEEKS, AND IT HAS THIS WEEK, EVEN MORE THAN THE LAST WEEK; WITH THE DOW JONES UP EVERY SINGLE DAY, BIG TIME, TO NEARLY A FULL FOURTEEN AND A HALF THOUSAND POINTS, SO GO AHEAD PEEPS, AND JUST TELL ME THAT I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT, WITH BOTH THIS, AS WELL AS ALL THE OTHER BULLSHIT ON THESE SEVEN PLUS YEARS OF MY MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS!!!!!!!! JUST GO AHEAD.
SLAM SLAM BANG, THESE FUCKING DIRT BAG NABES ARE REALLY AT IT, EVER SINCE TEN THIRTY OR SO; AND IT IS NEARLY MIDNIGHT NOW, MIZZ DEBBIE MAROTTO. OH AND AS USUAL PEEPS, I AM THE BAD GUY, I DID NOT PASS MY INSPECTION. SOMEONE TRIED TO GET ME EVICTED WITH MANY LIES, AND I KNOW WHO IT IS. IT IS THESE MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFFS FROM ACROSS THE MOTHER FUCKING HALLWAY, YO, THAT WERE FORCED TO GET RID OF THAT HORRIBLE SUBWOOFER NOISE EVERY DAY, AND FLATTENED MY TIRE, AND OTHER SHIT THAT WE WON’T GET ALL INTO RIGHT NOW, ON THIS BLOG!!!!! THIS DAY IS super super fucking botbar, that much I will say, all though most of the days in this mother fucking MARCH MONTH have been, so there really is no huge fucking shock value involved here, people, YO!!!
What I will discuss on the rest of this blog is really kind of simple, at least for someone suffering through what I’m fucking suffering through since August of 1986, and really, endlessly and forever, but still, this is when whatever was on me, literally fucking quadrupled, YO!!!!!!! It honestly is not complicated, not the main structure of my woes and problems. Now as for getting to the very total bottom of the most minute fucking cunt details and elucidations, that friends and foes and fiends is an entirely different tune. You know the old Julliard Musical School of Manhattan joke, or “you should”, Count Quentin Petofi of 1969, as long times are involved with all of this, huh Sir Barnabas, and I don’t mean the psych place where I literally made one of the counselors lose it with my life story, and that was back in the fucking Haddonwood fucking days which was a fraction of the totality of what shit all is now today. Aniwho folks, the old joke goes, What do prankster musicians always have a large supply of? Anyone who does not know the answer is SHARPS AND ‘FLATS’, well, go off to your ‘crib’ and make a bunch of stupid noises on your techno-drum ‘pad’. Drunken Russell T. beware, huh Regis old pal? Your lady friend is on TV, YO! Oh yes ladies and gentlemen, this has been about the worst cunt lapping month, since I can remember since August of fucking dirt bag nineteen-eighty-six, YO YO YO!!!
But yes peeps, I’ll draw you a simple and quick little basic illustration, on what is going on; and you really should try and relate; all you young video gamers out here; some know the big secret, that really, for all intents and purposes, this entire reality we are existing in is just somebody’s UPLINE created VR-VG and no matter how you toss all of the complicated philosophical, scientific, religious, and what have you, other concepts and varying ideas around; this tells the best and most present-time-relatable tale of who we all are, and why we all exist here. We are all someone’s globs and drones and droids, and whatever words you want to assign to the same thing and truth; and this is one hell of a wild game, since we really are on the other side, and while here; we have a fully erased memory of other dream parts or lifetimes throughout the fifth dimension, as well as our truer ‘Astral existence’. Oh and people, I do not blame the great Isiscylla Sarah-Stacey Krassle, AKA ‘Jehovah’ and a million plus more other names; as this is simply as her name implies, and her distant cousin humanly seemed to know, and desire to make it such a famous saying; you all know what this is that I’m referring to, ‘it is what it is’, so just take out the it-what-it, and there is HER WONDERFUL BLESSED NAME, YO YO YO YO YO YO, right Regis and Rip, and other friends of Atlantic City’s famous boardwalk radio station, with the dogs on the roof; THE MIGHTY BIBLICAL KINGS ON EARTH, IN SECRET STEALTH, the great one and only, right Paula, not WFMU, but WAYV, so wave on, lovely Atlantic Ocean. I know you are angry with me, but ‘IWALU’ my TEEN-QUEEN GODDESS!!!!!!!!! Go ahead, cross me over, bridges, railroad tracks, dimensions; as the entire United fucking States Copyright Office, knows that their files of my musical work; contain all of the REAL AND TOTAL PROJECT BLUEBOOK SECRETS, don’t they old pals, Agents Condor and Falcon, from 1988, channel 11 WPIX TELEVISION, from that great documentary show, aired that year, titled; “UFO, the Cover Up”? Go ahead and doubt these truths people, but the great fucking Library of Congress HAS THESE TRUTHS ALL FUCKING LOCKED AWAY BEHIND LENNY MCKINNON’S MAGICAL ’601 RADIO GATES’; AND WE ALL KNOW IT, MY BROTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ‘Blacks in the Military’, give me a break, Marge Leo of late 1985, no, not you lovely Goddess Keisha in 1999, WOW! CRUNCH, huh Walt Disney Trump Teasers? I will say one thing for the lucky peeps with more limited memory tracks, I ENVY YOU. To me it is a huge tape, all the way back to when I was born in the hospital, and saw there was snow coming down out of the fucking window of my mom’s fucking room, YO, except for short gap outs from the McGuire Clan, the All Mighty Isiscylla and her peeps, huh pal of my roomy-o; yeah Holmes, as Billy Harner would say so well, a while back; “Don’t force me to put you in pain”. You’re all a bunch of fucking losers, all of you, the entire EW and all of you. Anyone who wishes a totally innocent fucking person endless harm, that NEVER EVER did anything bad to them; is lower than whaleshit times ten to the ninth power, and then some. But you’re all a little more interested in the story that can be made simple, so long as we never include intimate details on anything pertaining to it, so here goes:
First, we need to distract from a nightmare that’s worse than anyone of you can ever imagine, because you live in reverse to truth, and think existence is precious, when in fact, it is the most horrendous thing imaginable when you understand it in its fullness. Long Story Short (LSS) folks, we need to DISTRACT from a nightmare that you cannot even conceive of its true and total horror, not in a million years with a million Einstein brains. So we come into hyperspace, yes we do lose our Astral Energy from absorbing lots of interactions there, but we could come here knowing this truth, and we instead, choose to be a lot less intelligent. If we were greater in intellect, then we would have a burden to take with us that would make life so miserable, it would not matter what you have or how happy you think you could be if you had the entire world in the palm of your fucking hand. We used to come into the hyperspace, with this greater intellect, eons ago. We were able to make individual universes where we not only lived and interacted in and through, but not limited to bodies. We could take one or lose one, at will, and be anywhere in the multiverse at the velocitronic speed of instantaneous thought. But this became quite intolerable, even though we indeed had, or better said, we WERE, Type-3-Civilizations, or carrying them on our back, so to speak; may describe this truth even more accurately. We learned it was better to tone down our possible maximum intellect while here in hyperspace, so as to maintain the non memory of the completeness and wholeness of all of reality, especially the part about ‘WE EXIST, nothing else is true or real’, and only the handful of enlightened entities that know the awful punch these words strike with; can understand fully what’s being fucking said on this blog. But bringing all of this down to a much more simplistic level and language, it goes like freaking this folks:
This is a game. Part of us is here, and part of us is not here. The part that is not here, is in a realm of true power, that controls all of everything, there, and here. All the combined humans, and all of their wealth and resources; are as a 9 square inch puddle of mud, with billions of crawling worms and maggots. This is how the larger part of our own selves, perceives their own lower self blobs and droids, inside their own created video-game of a sort. But they play this game with pretty much the very same motives that we humans play our own, thanks to dudes like Mister Gates, Mister Jobs, Mister Dell, and so on. If they had not been born, others would have, you can be sure of that, as this was all figured out in the UPLINE VIDEOGAME, and it just ended up being these folks; and could have just as easily been a few other peeps.
As for me, I fit into shit quite differently, and the proof of that is as plain as the nose on any of your faces, folks. Why else do I have all of this mother fucking information? Also, why is all of this happening to me, and why can I do impossible things? Yes, anyone who doubts this last sentence, is a quintessential fool, as this has been proven over and over and over, with or without lovely SSJKK in the ‘equation’. The game is simple. First, once here, the droids or blobs or globs or little down-line Pack-man entities, “US”, begin living lives. Those that are in control only think that they are. There really are others pulling their strings, and the more powerful and important anyone appears to be in human life, the MORE UNDER CONTROL of their higher selves playing this huge game, they are. The little people have a much smaller amount of puppeteers pulling our strings, since we cannot effect this big game anywhere as much, as those who make our laws, create our entertainment, govern and rule our every move, and appear to own and control a bunch of atoms held together by an electromagnetic force that nobody to this very day understands 3% of what is really going on. Now peeps, this is what Morianity-5 is going to be getting into, and THEY’LL have to kill me in order to stop me! But this blog, DOES END!
MORIANITY-5, CHAPTER 00004
1:15 PM, EST, SATURDAY, 9 MARCH, 2013
© MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS URLS 2006-2013
Well Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, here is the updated present time situation for you, and all others in the ‘L-4′ and other nameless and unknown entities; who are following MORIANITY in ways not yet understood by the scientific and technological standards, of this chest pounding King Kong and other KINGS dark ages and darker Sarah’s, period in the history of freaking humanity.
Doors slammed and boomed until close to 3 AM, and began after 11 again this morning, from across the dirt bag hallway-hellway. These lowlife bottom feeders are about as uncouth and evil as it gets, and I totally know in my ‘soul’ or deepest beingness, that my own family has offered them amnesty from eviction or even from our local sheriff and his powers to enforce the laws of our county, and this is not implying anyone is inside anyone’s pocket, but merely that things can be done on high levels by those that are the reason why something called PROJECT BLUEBOOK was created in the nineteen-forties, by these powerful covert stealthy black ops butt wipes, and that they have powerful connections all throughout those who control, rule, own, and legislate all of our lives. My sheriff is a great guy, and I was saddened last week when one of his own was shot fatally in the line of duty, protecting all of us from scum bag thugs like the dude who callously shot this poor deputy. These are the people who need not to go to jail or to a death chamber, but to a torture hotel. Then they would all last as long as each of them would be able to, maybe a week, maybe months; but it would be a horrible death for all of them; and only this, as barbaric as it may appear to sound; is the kind of thing that thugs like that dude would understand. Elect me president or governor, and by the goddess, I hereby do solemnly swear, I’ll get shit like this passed, one way or the other; and then watch these rapper thugs, and their gangs; begin to cower into the shadows and disappear; leaving us law abiding citizens with safe clean streets once again. But I’m not running for anything, in fact, I’m running away from everything, especially a star family of unfathomable power and magnitude of abilities. I may be paranoid, but here is the ‘short-list’ of some of the fucking bullshit going on around here, by these thugs that live all around me since I lost my good nabe in the early summer time of 2011, and these shit eating slime buckets managed as always, to infiltrate the apartment directly across the hall from me. Endless horrendous noise is a given, and need not be so much as further addressed here. They remove management notes that are put on my outer door. They damage my automobile, and commit illegal vandalism. Property damage is something, that under oath; my great daughter, would be forced to tell any court in this land, how even she was victimized by peeps using this totally wicked evil tactic on her as a little tike up on long Island; so when this same thing has been in my life as well, since you got it peeps, August 15, 1986 again; this is not difficult to add one and one up here, and see the big fat ugly TOE, TOW, TWO. But before you half billion fans of my kid start crying too many crocodile tears for her, remember that nothing happens without a reason. Look at what this clan has done to me now since my parents forced me to go up to visit my Babylonian cousins in New York, in the sixties and up through my very last time there, around Christmas time in late 1972. Re-read the re-posted 2008 blog. See how just a day or so before the first day of summer, some organized plot caused me to be flash-mobbed in Atlantic City, where else, by a huge gang of giant young girls, all around six and a half feet tall and in super athletic shape. They blocked me from going to the ocean, standing in a perfectly planned line formation, between where my towel was, and the ocean was. Then came the great glarry eyed dude, a windy future house where I was to come and live in shortly thereafter; and do I think any of this is just some weird powerful bizarre coincidence? What do you think that I think, good folks? Add in my trip back to my high school in 1996, back to 1968, my trip up to Boston and 31 days into the future, and all of this is on 2008 blogs, some in the summer, and some in the early parts of the autumn; but it is all there to be archived, at blogger dot com, good people. And you wonder why I am scared to death of my all powerful daughter. She used my old song from 1983, ‘Girl, I’ll Tell You anything’, to let me know that I’ll never escape her, and even Tony Bonjovi agrees that this was done to send me a message, and speaking of this, then along came a lot more than just clueless me, but the great website with the message on it matching my recently sent to the © Office music project, containing a karaoke singing overdub job of the new lyrics of the great Scylla song done originally in 1980 if humanly measuring this, called, ‘Love is for Carpenters’. This many coincidences are something that I can assure you as a loyal ‘L&O’ TV fan, would never ever be tolerated by any of the staff in the DA’s office of Manhattan. Then without going into dozens of other totally unexplainable things that only a goddess from a star family could do, H-2, and others; I don’t see anyone in this family, my kid included, trying to deny it, trying to let me know there are other explanations for it all, and so forth. Take all of this, and I’d gladly have a great argument for a court room; only this is not my plan. That is my plan for the F-500, not for TAWF. THAT-FAMILY of the 1970 washcloth nightmares, is a totally different situation. We will leave that right there for today.
I called to check up on Mikey, and he is not 100% obviously, and is still recuperating, and on the mend; after his first week back working. Even a sedentary job is stressful after a hernia surgery. There is the driving there and back, and other little things that can wear one out after being in a hospital with more than a sore throat and strange technicians around, right Russ Walker of the Starburn Outreach Development Corporation, and mighty American Express, and Mister Goldstein Puthatontopnotrouble? Oh can I hear those piano notes Mister Rod Serling. They play loudly for me, just about every god dam day of my sick pathetic mother fucking messed with life. Loving father god? Where are you right now, Marge Leo? I need you to fucking make like it’s November in 1985 again, and say your famous quotation to me, YO, “Cut me a break”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A major fucking death angel attack is striking me, world; at 1:52 PM, on my right side, and is abating now, Peter Landfill Post Assets 120. Your old neighborhood, huh Howard Solomon, Chief Recording Engineer of the RPL Sound Studio Labs, of Camden, New Jersey. Mashell Daniels and Diane Barton lived just down the block on Pierce Avenue, only I doubt they had three magical open reel tapes. Still, I now am being struck with a super left side death angel hit at 2 minutes after the other one. This deserves a real mother fucking W—-O—-W, folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Overall, these death android attacks are literally a dozen times worse these past five years, then they were say back before the time that I came to be Stockholm Kidnapped into the King family living first at Judge Raso’s home on Middle Road near the non Cranberryville Walmart, via more powerful wild outlandish transdimensional punishment for not trusting my wonderful daughter implicitly enough, and then later when they all moved to the FBI owned home at Thirteenth Street on the southern end of town. I will surely give Isiscylla her props and then some, folks; even though none of you blob me with a tweet, that I sure know my way around a stock market. Hay, keep it all cozy and private, deep down I admit, there is something real cool about this great mystery, and believe me L-4, I WILL get to the bottom of it even if it takes me a thousand emmereffing dick stroking years. I am an extremely tenacious individual, and the ax I have to grind is the size of the Soviet Union, so be lucky if you are reading this, and are not on my total shit list. Your day of reckoning will come, and this is not a threat, because it will all be done within the framework of the legal system of my country. So, ‘where’s my country dude’, did you say, Mister Moore? How about, ‘Where’s your Occupy Group, D-U-D-E’?
As the adorable little girl music genius says so perfectly, on the Criminal Intent, L&O-TV-show; “THE END”. WOLF-WOLF!
MORIANITY-5, CHAPTER 00005
5:28 PM-EDST, SUNDAY, 10 MARCH, 2013
STARTING BLOG, ON ANOTHER FUCKING SUNDAY SUPER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE ATTACK, SIR SHF. K. MASCARA
All day today, there is one fire alarm after another being INTENTIONALLY SET OFF, it is not a PHA test, as the fire trucks come here each and every time, so some resident is doing this on purpose. Never ever, unless it is a test, that is run on that day, in my two years here now; have there been FOUR FIRE ALARMS IN ONE DAY, AND WITHIN ABOUT 4 OR FIVE HOURS OF TIME PERIOD.
The scum across the hall are shouting, and are in and out with their loud booming ass doors as well, but I can almost understand it when this many mother fucking fire alarms are going off today. It just now stopped, this FOURTH FUCKING ONE, and the fire truck is outside of the building, for the fourth time now. It is 22 minutes past fucking four this late afternoon. This is about the worst and noisiest Sunday ever, but notice peeps; EVERY FUCKING SUNDAY FOR A MONTH OR TWO NOW, SINCE THIS SUPER DOW JONES BULL RALLY THAT IS TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL, all began, THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE has struck me with severe deadly fucking pummeling and death siege, so that they can get these huge ICPE-APE results on the following BUSINESS FUCKING WEEK, ON THEIR DIRT BAG TOTALLY FUCKING CHEATED STOCK MARKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now folks, I will quickly tell you two things. First of all, my new lawyer pal, that will be fresh out of college in the first week this May, and who is going to help me to sue these WOMO ENEMIES FOR ONE TRILLION DOLLARS, after proving a lifelong fucking pattern, of unspeakable and unthinkable persecution that is worse than what was done to all of the Jews combined who suffered under Hitler; and this is truth so help me ALL MIGHTY GODDESS ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE; and he told me that WOMO will probably do this very exact thing to me this very weekend, and he has a buddy over in our local Fort Pierce Fire Company, so as a collaboration, this will ALL FIT SUPER DYNAMITE PERFECTLY, RIGHT INTO MY MOTHER FUCKING HANDS, ladies and freaking gentlemen, YO YO YO YO. So go chew on this little tid bit of indigestion juice, you twat lapping fucking bastard enemies from hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bounce that all around, YO YO Nothing Prophets, of fucking McDonald Dancing 1988′ers, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
The second thing now, is ‘thisssssssssss’, Miss Erica ‘AMC’ Snakes of 1983, WOW! The second thing is that when I shortly blog some major previous three week GAWNUM EQUATIONS from good old pussy cat GAGA, well, let me just say that maybe you should brace for a real roller coaster ride on Wall Street, when I do, and also, here are the already provable facts about the folks trying to get me thrown into the street. They have admitted on tape, to a private investigator, who they think is their friend, well until they all read this fucking blog; about taking the air out of my rear automobile tire, as well as put dozens of cock roaches into my apartment, and one of their friends is indeed, or was at that time, with the PHA, and has been recently fired for misconduct, and Sheriff Mascara sir, I need a lot of help from these HORRIBLE FUCKING THUGS SIR, and also, I cannot in good conscience tell whether this man lost his position with the PH Authority for coming in here and letting dozens of roach babies loose in my apartment about ten months or so ago, or if it was totally an unrelated something else; but thank the goddess that he is no longer working for the ‘PHA’. Still, they are trying to get me on the street and homeless, Sheriff, and I am the one who does nothing wrong and is in here every day and night being good and quiet as a mother fucking church-mouse, YO. This is the lifelong fucking hell that I AM forced to endure, Roseann Neckbites, and yes, maybe if you all were raped by an older married woman and had a crazy vamp after you at age 14 and a half at the same time, or were they one and the same person, as I know this star family can do miracles beyond what Christ did when here, and just who do you think Christ was, and why do you think the Pope really stepped down, and should I go on, Sheriff Mascara, and others out here in the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, YO? As the lovely ‘L&O-CI’ musical genius, and young lovely girl, would say right about now; ‘The End’!
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
VIDEO LINKS TO BLOG 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/o6KctnOYCVo
http://youtu.be/bDkXugVdYAE
http://youtu.be/aYk6y32z63Y
http://youtu.be/TOaSGmQjkq0
http://youtu.be/eCRDN2ZwVNQ
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/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/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
555555555555555555555555555555555—WHAAAAA.
NO YELLOW SHEET OF PAPER, OR HEART FAILURE!
« MORIANITY-2 OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, JWC2, DAY 00007, BLOG-C
« Classical Jew’s Harp Music (MP3s) | Main | “If You Do Not Like, Buy a Record By the Caetano and Do Not Bother Us, Fuck You.” December 12, 2006, More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3), MORE OF THESE HATS ARE AROUND THE AREA OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA. READ SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS AROUND THE 500-600 CHAPTER NUMBER RANGE, AND THEN CLICK ON AN OLD REMADE SONG FROM 1983, WOW MISTER MACY, IS THIS THE FIRST TRUMP, THE LAST TRUMP, OR THE MARK OF THE BEAST, AS INDEED, 1+2+3+4 ALL THE WAY UP TO +36 WILL INDEED EQUAL 666, GEE REALLY, COPYIGHT OFFICE OF 1988? HAY, IT IS ALL DOWN THERE FOR THE RECORD. YOU CAN CLICK HERE FOR MORE, ONLY BELEIVE THIS FOLKS, THE MOUNTAINPEN NEVER TITLED ANYTHING, “THE MEANING OF LIFE”, SOMEONE MUST HAVE ADDED ALL OF THIS TO THEIR DEGRADED COPY TAPES, FROM WHAT WAS STOLEN WHEN THEY BOOSTED MY CAR STEREO AT NORTHEAST PHILL’S FRIENDLY RESTAURANT ON THE ROOSEVELT BOULEVARD IN THE FRIKKIN NINETIES. ALL I EVER DID WAS SAY, AND I’LL QUOTE, FROM 1983, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, SO CLICK HERE:
Listed below are links to weblogs that reference More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3):
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What About Me, pisses you all off so much, DJBT and pals?
SPOILED BRATS BORN WITH SILVER FRIKKIN SPOONS UP YOUR ASSES!
« 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.
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.
(YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER), AND WITH NO MEMORY OF THE ROAD TRIP, HUH? WOW!!!!!
MORIANITY-5 THE OPENING, CHAPTERS 1-5
EARLY ON SUNDAY EVENING, 03/10/2013
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Like this: HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE THIS, IT’S NOT A LOT OF HOAX OR FAKE BULLSHIT, IT IS ALL VERY REAL, NO FICTION, YO?
Be the first to like this.MORIANITY—–5, CHAPTER 00001
3:12 AM-EST, THURSDAY, 03/07/2013
BEGINNING OF THIS BLOG:
This little tweet blog is to tell a short few things real quick, and get off the computer. I do not have time to waste on a lot of fucking bullshit. Many things are fucking going on all around both me, and my life, that are nobody’s freaking business other than mine. Normally my life is an open book, but for a while, this may alter.
I am not going to talk about the lawyer I met yesterday, nor am I going to discuss my moving plans or whether or not I will re-up on my Public Housing lease come the first of freaking April. Again, this is my own private bees wax.
If time travel is a hoax, then explain the 6-9 rooms with no hallways and windy drafty doors that slam, and Dawn hollering to mommy Ann, ‘Quit slamming the doors’, at Judge Frank Raso’s home, next to the church that our POPE visited while I was being kidnapped there under the medically accepted and recognized term of Stockholm Kidnapping Syndrome, back in autumn 2008. Then take the blogs of the starting of the summer that year, and tell me that the the greatest pop diva of all time, does not have this wild ability to do this. She’s already so pissed off at me, it makes little difference if I throw this up or not, but I refuse to sit here being laughed at while multiple mere hoaxes are scattered all over the internet, and my stuff is real, and stands the test of real Project Bluebook scrutiny.
You know, you all go do whatever makes you happy, and believe what you want. Obviously, Morianity has started a new direction on this date, and that again, is my own private bees wax; so go eat your cereal kids, and pretend it’s Block Party Summer on Nick at Night, and it’s 1994 all over again.
I can look at anyone square on and straight faced, as I have nothing to hide, nor to gain; with some ridiculous hoax. My 58.25 years of life, cannot ever be fully recorded; but the condensed story of my lifetime, is on the seven years of these blogs. In 2009, some of the stuff needs be accessed at http://www.mountainpen.wordpress.com/ as the Blogger hacked me out in half the summer that year, three times my blogs have been fucked with and illegally stopped, recently, and then in rockin’ robin tweety bird 2010, and then in the summer time of 2009, all three times, catapulting their filthy stock market world of greed and dirt bag avarice; all at my mother fucking expense. A child knows that a lot of shit can be learned by visiting my Youtube site that will be gone forever very shortly, your loss folks, not freaking mine.
Http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/
THIS BLOG IS ENDING FOR RIGHT NOW, YO! WHAAAAA!
MORIANITY—–5, CHAPTER 00002
2:23 PM-EST, FRIDAY, 8 MARCH, 2013
QUINTESSENTIAL BIPOLAR REALITY ALL AROUND ME
STARTING ANOTHER TWEETY-BIRD BLOG FOLKS:
For the past (two) (tow) days, I have been under a real weird swinging pendulum, as well as right now as I speak, that mother fucking enemy motorbike dude that has yet to be arrested for disturbing the peace, is blasting his dirt bag pipes at half past tow-two-toe. Yes peeps, I am slow from time to fucking time, and have recently come to realize that the auto mechanic would be quite involved in things such as repairing automobiles, putting gasoline into them, and towing them when necessary as well, as in the word TOW, or spoken the same way as another word, yet has an entirely different meaning, TOE. Peeps have known for a long time that ‘dreams’ are very symbolic, but do not understand what they are saying when making this statement, not in full. So now I will (use) (sue) a little bit of Morianity to better detail and elucidate all this freaking bull crap.
The simple reason for this is because dreams occur in a parallel and similar realm and reality from where we were when our bodies fell asleep and caused us to have this ‘dreaming-experience’ or hyperspace interaction; and thus, in one ‘world’ in similar enough localized hyperspace, a man is a mechanic and may decide to tow your car after putting some gasoline into it at a pump up in New Jersey, and finding that it would not turn back on, where in another ‘world’, that same mechanic may be a horrible bully, and things are different enough to where he puts $18.60 in the tank and fills it up when all you have is five dollars and tell him to put in five dollars, something Floridians and most residents of the United States do not identify with, as they must pump their own gasoline; but where this monster ass guy works, instead of towing it from the pumps into the garage bay, he takes out an ISIS pick, and does a wild number on a fellow customer’s toes and feet tops, as was spoken of in a recent blog regarding a horrific ass ‘monster nightmare’, describing this in forward-mortal language wordage system. We can always get back into more of this, and yes we will, but this is not the true topic of today’s little blog, good people. Yesterday and today, my day swings back and forth between small catastrophe’s and small extra good stuff, bing boom, bing boom, yin, yang, yin, yang; it really is the epitome of a bipolar condition, only not in my mind, but with the events that are surrounding my so-called, ‘real life’!
For the sake of safety, and don’t let me underplay my words here folks, I cannot detail each swinging thing, back and forth; but it is a major Wildwood transdimensional roller fucking coaster ride, even if I’m forced to say so myself, YO. What I’m willing to in fact tell you is as follows. It began around the ending of yesterday, Thursday morning, or somewhere shortly into the afternoon, by minutes at latest; but I was in a powerful dreaming-interaction, and was in the year 2340. Donna Summer, who as some know, I retraced as Labber Zeejins, and let the other copy remain in the year 1979 which grew older and eventually left this life as a result of some type of lung cancer, or so I’ve been told, so this is hearsay information. Everything one Google’s up, is recorded by the world owners forever, and so I try to stay away from this new age junk, as my life is simply not their fucking business. All they’ll do anyway is tease and taunt me whenever any ammunition is ever given to them, such as letting them know the slightest thing about your private life, and thanks to dirt bag NBC-TRUMPFIRE, they all know all about me any-ha, so I’m screwed before I open up the dam door; but yes, Donna was standing on some balcony above me, and was with a few of the King family members, and someone was shouting down at me that she was there, and I yelled up at her, the very same thing that good old lovely goddess Leticia Tilley, used to make me say real loudly to her, every single time back up in Jersey, that I would pick her up at her house in Egg Harbor City, just blocks from the magical dream school of detentions, magical daughters, and first airplane flight by Wilbur and Orville Wright, more than a hundred years ago, in Kitty Hawk, NCUSAESMWG. I found myself gazing up at her, and saying very loudly to her; “Hay girl”. She then said back to me, “Go back to twenty-thirteen where you belong, you bastard sound copier”. Well, I was a sound copier back in 1979-1981 at the RPL Recording Studio, and my actual job title was, TAPE DUPLICATOR. I then yelled up, “I left RPL in March of 1981, gorgeous”. Then she yelled back down to me, “I’m not talking about what you did at your job, you shit head”. Then with that she was gone. Ever since I awoke from this wild ‘dream’, things have been off the scale way up and way down, and if I ever told it all, you would not believe me, and if you did, you’d go fucking crazier than Chemtard Mountainpen is, so why even bother to try, YO? The last straw of this still ongoing bipolar reality condition around me was just an hour or so ago with my resident manager, Debbie Marotto. She first made my day lousy by telling me I failed my inspection, and needed to take care of some stuff, which I will do before the re-inspection this coming fucking Wednesday. But then amongst my papers in envelopes, she found something that saved me close to a bill, and a trip somewhere that I did not feel like going on today, so when all was said and done, I was able to come back upstairs to my unit, do this blog, and then I plan to try and relax, and watch a movie later on; depending on whether the Attorney General, and the State Police are vigilant and watching over me, or will back off the protection, and allow my filthy fucking WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE enemies, to keep striking me with never ending pummeling, and endless fucking ass persecution. This little example is just the latest one folks, out of about 5 things just like this; ever since popping out of that wild shit with Donna. Sorry if my Techno-pop Engineering pisses artists off so much, as I think it is fun; and by the way, your licenses only go back to the date that you are a recording artist, not years before. So I did not feel I did anything wrong, in either case; but do not despair; as very soon, all my shit will be down, and off the fucking system. Be that way, dumb world.
Tweet tweet tweet, let this poor old bastard fragile little rockin’ robin go you know what; don’t want to rip off any old songs, even though a ton of mine have been torn into, finally I’m free, yeah right, you country Clariton Clear bumpkins; like Isis is ever gonna’ really set me free. So why does my freaking star shine so bright all through the coldest darkest night, Gerald Pliner? That’s no fucking plagiarism, YO. It may be a bit bumptious or flippant of me, but then, I’ll worry about the great face punches of Dawn-Marie King, and Mashell Daniels, later on, when I deal with both it; and Egg Harbor City; Terry Scatterbrain Glasseshater. Color me what Ashley Tinsdale? WOW, if time travel is bullshit, so are the nuclear disasters of Chernobyl, and Three Mile Island. YO!
I will now end this whittle bwog, sir Elmer freaking Fwudd. WHAAA.
MORIANITY-5——CHAPTER 00003
TEN MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT, 8 MARCH, 2013
THIS BLOG STARTS HERE FOLKS:
WELL, IF MY MEMORY SERVES ME AND IT USUALLY DOES, I TOLD YOU GINA, AND EVERYONE ELSE, THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULDFLY THESE TWO WEEKS, AND IT HAS THIS WEEK, EVEN MORE THAN THE LAST WEEK; WITH THE DOW JONES UP EVERY SINGLE DAY, BIG TIME, TO NEARLY A FULL FOURTEEN AND A HALF THOUSAND POINTS, SO GO AHEAD PEEPS, AND JUST TELL ME THAT I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT, WITH BOTH THIS, AS WELL AS ALL THE OTHER BULLSHIT ON THESE SEVEN PLUS YEARS OF MY MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS!!!!!!!! JUST GO AHEAD.
SLAM SLAM BANG, THESE FUCKING DIRT BAG NABES ARE REALLY AT IT, EVER SINCE TEN THIRTY OR SO; AND IT IS NEARLY MIDNIGHT NOW, MIZZ DEBBIE MAROTTO. OH AND AS USUAL PEEPS, I AM THE BAD GUY, I DID NOT PASS MY INSPECTION. SOMEONE TRIED TO GET ME EVICTED WITH MANY LIES, AND I KNOW WHO IT IS. IT IS THESE MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFFS FROM ACROSS THE MOTHER FUCKING HALLWAY, YO, THAT WERE FORCED TO GET RID OF THAT HORRIBLE SUBWOOFER NOISE EVERY DAY, AND FLATTENED MY TIRE, AND OTHER SHIT THAT WE WON’T GET ALL INTO RIGHT NOW, ON THIS BLOG!!!!! THIS DAY IS super super fucking botbar, that much I will say, all though most of the days in this mother fucking MARCH MONTH have been, so there really is no huge fucking shock value involved here, people, YO!!!
What I will discuss on the rest of this blog is really kind of simple, at least for someone suffering through what I’m fucking suffering through since August of 1986, and really, endlessly and forever, but still, this is when whatever was on me, literally fucking quadrupled, YO!!!!!!! It honestly is not complicated, not the main structure of my woes and problems. Now as for getting to the very total bottom of the most minute fucking cunt details and elucidations, that friends and foes and fiends is an entirely different tune. You know the old Julliard Musical School of Manhattan joke, or “you should”, Count Quentin Petofi of 1969, as long times are involved with all of this, huh Sir Barnabas, and I don’t mean the psych place where I literally made one of the counselors lose it with my life story, and that was back in the fucking Haddonwood fucking days which was a fraction of the totality of what shit all is now today. Aniwho folks, the old joke goes, What do prankster musicians always have a large supply of? Anyone who does not know the answer is SHARPS AND ‘FLATS’, well, go off to your ‘crib’ and make a bunch of stupid noises on your techno-drum ‘pad’. Drunken Russell T. beware, huh Regis old pal? Your lady friend is on TV, YO! Oh yes ladies and gentlemen, this has been about the worst cunt lapping month, since I can remember since August of fucking dirt bag nineteen-eighty-six, YO YO YO!!!
But yes peeps, I’ll draw you a simple and quick little basic illustration, on what is going on; and you really should try and relate; all you young video gamers out here; some know the big secret, that really, for all intents and purposes, this entire reality we are existing in is just somebody’s UPLINE created VR-VG and no matter how you toss all of the complicated philosophical, scientific, religious, and what have you, other concepts and varying ideas around; this tells the best and most present-time-relatable tale of who we all are, and why we all exist here. We are all someone’s globs and drones and droids, and whatever words you want to assign to the same thing and truth; and this is one hell of a wild game, since we really are on the other side, and while here; we have a fully erased memory of other dream parts or lifetimes throughout the fifth dimension, as well as our truer ‘Astral existence’. Oh and people, I do not blame the great Isiscylla Sarah-Stacey Krassle, AKA ‘Jehovah’ and a million plus more other names; as this is simply as her name implies, and her distant cousin humanly seemed to know, and desire to make it such a famous saying; you all know what this is that I’m referring to, ‘it is what it is’, so just take out the it-what-it, and there is HER WONDERFUL BLESSED NAME, YO YO YO YO YO YO, right Regis and Rip, and other friends of Atlantic City’s famous boardwalk radio station, with the dogs on the roof; THE MIGHTY BIBLICAL KINGS ON EARTH, IN SECRET STEALTH, the great one and only, right Paula, not WFMU, but WAYV, so wave on, lovely Atlantic Ocean. I know you are angry with me, but ‘IWALU’ my TEEN-QUEEN GODDESS!!!!!!!!! Go ahead, cross me over, bridges, railroad tracks, dimensions; as the entire United fucking States Copyright Office, knows that their files of my musical work; contain all of the REAL AND TOTAL PROJECT BLUEBOOK SECRETS, don’t they old pals, Agents Condor and Falcon, from 1988, channel 11 WPIX TELEVISION, from that great documentary show, aired that year, titled; “UFO, the Cover Up”? Go ahead and doubt these truths people, but the great fucking Library of Congress HAS THESE TRUTHS ALL FUCKING LOCKED AWAY BEHIND LENNY MCKINNON’S MAGICAL ’601 RADIO GATES’; AND WE ALL KNOW IT, MY BROTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ‘Blacks in the Military’, give me a break, Marge Leo of late 1985, no, not you lovely Goddess Keisha in 1999, WOW! CRUNCH, huh Walt Disney Trump Teasers? I will say one thing for the lucky peeps with more limited memory tracks, I ENVY YOU. To me it is a huge tape, all the way back to when I was born in the hospital, and saw there was snow coming down out of the fucking window of my mom’s fucking room, YO, except for short gap outs from the McGuire Clan, the All Mighty Isiscylla and her peeps, huh pal of my roomy-o; yeah Holmes, as Billy Harner would say so well, a while back; “Don’t force me to put you in pain”. You’re all a bunch of fucking losers, all of you, the entire EW and all of you. Anyone who wishes a totally innocent fucking person endless harm, that NEVER EVER did anything bad to them; is lower than whaleshit times ten to the ninth power, and then some. But you’re all a little more interested in the story that can be made simple, so long as we never include intimate details on anything pertaining to it, so here goes:
First, we need to distract from a nightmare that’s worse than anyone of you can ever imagine, because you live in reverse to truth, and think existence is precious, when in fact, it is the most horrendous thing imaginable when you understand it in its fullness. Long Story Short (LSS) folks, we need to DISTRACT from a nightmare that you cannot even conceive of its true and total horror, not in a million years with a million Einstein brains. So we come into hyperspace, yes we do lose our Astral Energy from absorbing lots of interactions there, but we could come here knowing this truth, and we instead, choose to be a lot less intelligent. If we were greater in intellect, then we would have a burden to take with us that would make life so miserable, it would not matter what you have or how happy you think you could be if you had the entire world in the palm of your fucking hand. We used to come into the hyperspace, with this greater intellect, eons ago. We were able to make individual universes where we not only lived and interacted in and through, but not limited to bodies. We could take one or lose one, at will, and be anywhere in the multiverse at the velocitronic speed of instantaneous thought. But this became quite intolerable, even though we indeed had, or better said, we WERE, Type-3-Civilizations, or carrying them on our back, so to speak; may describe this truth even more accurately. We learned it was better to tone down our possible maximum intellect while here in hyperspace, so as to maintain the non memory of the completeness and wholeness of all of reality, especially the part about ‘WE EXIST, nothing else is true or real’, and only the handful of enlightened entities that know the awful punch these words strike with; can understand fully what’s being fucking said on this blog. But bringing all of this down to a much more simplistic level and language, it goes like freaking this folks:
This is a game. Part of us is here, and part of us is not here. The part that is not here, is in a realm of true power, that controls all of everything, there, and here. All the combined humans, and all of their wealth and resources; are as a 9 square inch puddle of mud, with billions of crawling worms and maggots. This is how the larger part of our own selves, perceives their own lower self blobs and droids, inside their own created video-game of a sort. But they play this game with pretty much the very same motives that we humans play our own, thanks to dudes like Mister Gates, Mister Jobs, Mister Dell, and so on. If they had not been born, others would have, you can be sure of that, as this was all figured out in the UPLINE VIDEOGAME, and it just ended up being these folks; and could have just as easily been a few other peeps.
As for me, I fit into shit quite differently, and the proof of that is as plain as the nose on any of your faces, folks. Why else do I have all of this mother fucking information? Also, why is all of this happening to me, and why can I do impossible things? Yes, anyone who doubts this last sentence, is a quintessential fool, as this has been proven over and over and over, with or without lovely SSJKK in the ‘equation’. The game is simple. First, once here, the droids or blobs or globs or little down-line Pack-man entities, “US”, begin living lives. Those that are in control only think that they are. There really are others pulling their strings, and the more powerful and important anyone appears to be in human life, the MORE UNDER CONTROL of their higher selves playing this huge game, they are. The little people have a much smaller amount of puppeteers pulling our strings, since we cannot effect this big game anywhere as much, as those who make our laws, create our entertainment, govern and rule our every move, and appear to own and control a bunch of atoms held together by an electromagnetic force that nobody to this very day understands 3% of what is really going on. Now peeps, this is what Morianity-5 is going to be getting into, and THEY’LL have to kill me in order to stop me! But this blog, DOES END!
MORIANITY-5, CHAPTER 00004
1:15 PM, EST, SATURDAY, 9 MARCH, 2013
© MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS URLS 2006-2013
Well Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, here is the updated present time situation for you, and all others in the ‘L-4′ and other nameless and unknown entities; who are following MORIANITY in ways not yet understood by the scientific and technological standards, of this chest pounding King Kong and other KINGS dark ages and darker Sarah’s, period in the history of freaking humanity.
Doors slammed and boomed until close to 3 AM, and began after 11 again this morning, from across the dirt bag hallway-hellway. These lowlife bottom feeders are about as uncouth and evil as it gets, and I totally know in my ‘soul’ or deepest beingness, that my own family has offered them amnesty from eviction or even from our local sheriff and his powers to enforce the laws of our county, and this is not implying anyone is inside anyone’s pocket, but merely that things can be done on high levels by those that are the reason why something called PROJECT BLUEBOOK was created in the nineteen-forties, by these powerful covert stealthy black ops butt wipes, and that they have powerful connections all throughout those who control, rule, own, and legislate all of our lives. My sheriff is a great guy, and I was saddened last week when one of his own was shot fatally in the line of duty, protecting all of us from scum bag thugs like the dude who callously shot this poor deputy. These are the people who need not to go to jail or to a death chamber, but to a torture hotel. Then they would all last as long as each of them would be able to, maybe a week, maybe months; but it would be a horrible death for all of them; and only this, as barbaric as it may appear to sound; is the kind of thing that thugs like that dude would understand. Elect me president or governor, and by the goddess, I hereby do solemnly swear, I’ll get shit like this passed, one way or the other; and then watch these rapper thugs, and their gangs; begin to cower into the shadows and disappear; leaving us law abiding citizens with safe clean streets once again. But I’m not running for anything, in fact, I’m running away from everything, especially a star family of unfathomable power and magnitude of abilities. I may be paranoid, but here is the ‘short-list’ of some of the fucking bullshit going on around here, by these thugs that live all around me since I lost my good nabe in the early summer time of 2011, and these shit eating slime buckets managed as always, to infiltrate the apartment directly across the hall from me. Endless horrendous noise is a given, and need not be so much as further addressed here. They remove management notes that are put on my outer door. They damage my automobile, and commit illegal vandalism. Property damage is something, that under oath; my great daughter, would be forced to tell any court in this land, how even she was victimized by peeps using this totally wicked evil tactic on her as a little tike up on long Island; so when this same thing has been in my life as well, since you got it peeps, August 15, 1986 again; this is not difficult to add one and one up here, and see the big fat ugly TOE, TOW, TWO. But before you half billion fans of my kid start crying too many crocodile tears for her, remember that nothing happens without a reason. Look at what this clan has done to me now since my parents forced me to go up to visit my Babylonian cousins in New York, in the sixties and up through my very last time there, around Christmas time in late 1972. Re-read the re-posted 2008 blog. See how just a day or so before the first day of summer, some organized plot caused me to be flash-mobbed in Atlantic City, where else, by a huge gang of giant young girls, all around six and a half feet tall and in super athletic shape. They blocked me from going to the ocean, standing in a perfectly planned line formation, between where my towel was, and the ocean was. Then came the great glarry eyed dude, a windy future house where I was to come and live in shortly thereafter; and do I think any of this is just some weird powerful bizarre coincidence? What do you think that I think, good folks? Add in my trip back to my high school in 1996, back to 1968, my trip up to Boston and 31 days into the future, and all of this is on 2008 blogs, some in the summer, and some in the early parts of the autumn; but it is all there to be archived, at blogger dot com, good people. And you wonder why I am scared to death of my all powerful daughter. She used my old song from 1983, ‘Girl, I’ll Tell You anything’, to let me know that I’ll never escape her, and even Tony Bonjovi agrees that this was done to send me a message, and speaking of this, then along came a lot more than just clueless me, but the great website with the message on it matching my recently sent to the © Office music project, containing a karaoke singing overdub job of the new lyrics of the great Scylla song done originally in 1980 if humanly measuring this, called, ‘Love is for Carpenters’. This many coincidences are something that I can assure you as a loyal ‘L&O’ TV fan, would never ever be tolerated by any of the staff in the DA’s office of Manhattan. Then without going into dozens of other totally unexplainable things that only a goddess from a star family could do, H-2, and others; I don’t see anyone in this family, my kid included, trying to deny it, trying to let me know there are other explanations for it all, and so forth. Take all of this, and I’d gladly have a great argument for a court room; only this is not my plan. That is my plan for the F-500, not for TAWF. THAT-FAMILY of the 1970 washcloth nightmares, is a totally different situation. We will leave that right there for today.
I called to check up on Mikey, and he is not 100% obviously, and is still recuperating, and on the mend; after his first week back working. Even a sedentary job is stressful after a hernia surgery. There is the driving there and back, and other little things that can wear one out after being in a hospital with more than a sore throat and strange technicians around, right Russ Walker of the Starburn Outreach Development Corporation, and mighty American Express, and Mister Goldstein Puthatontopnotrouble? Oh can I hear those piano notes Mister Rod Serling. They play loudly for me, just about every god dam day of my sick pathetic mother fucking messed with life. Loving father god? Where are you right now, Marge Leo? I need you to fucking make like it’s November in 1985 again, and say your famous quotation to me, YO, “Cut me a break”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A major fucking death angel attack is striking me, world; at 1:52 PM, on my right side, and is abating now, Peter Landfill Post Assets 120. Your old neighborhood, huh Howard Solomon, Chief Recording Engineer of the RPL Sound Studio Labs, of Camden, New Jersey. Mashell Daniels and Diane Barton lived just down the block on Pierce Avenue, only I doubt they had three magical open reel tapes. Still, I now am being struck with a super left side death angel hit at 2 minutes after the other one. This deserves a real mother fucking W—-O—-W, folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Overall, these death android attacks are literally a dozen times worse these past five years, then they were say back before the time that I came to be Stockholm Kidnapped into the King family living first at Judge Raso’s home on Middle Road near the non Cranberryville Walmart, via more powerful wild outlandish transdimensional punishment for not trusting my wonderful daughter implicitly enough, and then later when they all moved to the FBI owned home at Thirteenth Street on the southern end of town. I will surely give Isiscylla her props and then some, folks; even though none of you blob me with a tweet, that I sure know my way around a stock market. Hay, keep it all cozy and private, deep down I admit, there is something real cool about this great mystery, and believe me L-4, I WILL get to the bottom of it even if it takes me a thousand emmereffing dick stroking years. I am an extremely tenacious individual, and the ax I have to grind is the size of the Soviet Union, so be lucky if you are reading this, and are not on my total shit list. Your day of reckoning will come, and this is not a threat, because it will all be done within the framework of the legal system of my country. So, ‘where’s my country dude’, did you say, Mister Moore? How about, ‘Where’s your Occupy Group, D-U-D-E’?
As the adorable little girl music genius says so perfectly, on the Criminal Intent, L&O-TV-show; “THE END”. WOLF-WOLF!
MORIANITY-5, CHAPTER 00005
5:28 PM-EDST, SUNDAY, 10 MARCH, 2013
STARTING BLOG, ON ANOTHER FUCKING SUNDAY SUPER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE ATTACK, SIR SHF. K. MASCARA
All day today, there is one fire alarm after another being INTENTIONALLY SET OFF, it is not a PHA test, as the fire trucks come here each and every time, so some resident is doing this on purpose. Never ever, unless it is a test, that is run on that day, in my two years here now; have there been FOUR FIRE ALARMS IN ONE DAY, AND WITHIN ABOUT 4 OR FIVE HOURS OF TIME PERIOD.
The scum across the hall are shouting, and are in and out with their loud booming ass doors as well, but I can almost understand it when this many mother fucking fire alarms are going off today. It just now stopped, this FOURTH FUCKING ONE, and the fire truck is outside of the building, for the fourth time now. It is 22 minutes past fucking four this late afternoon. This is about the worst and noisiest Sunday ever, but notice peeps; EVERY FUCKING SUNDAY FOR A MONTH OR TWO NOW, SINCE THIS SUPER DOW JONES BULL RALLY THAT IS TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL, all began, THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE has struck me with severe deadly fucking pummeling and death siege, so that they can get these huge ICPE-APE results on the following BUSINESS FUCKING WEEK, ON THEIR DIRT BAG TOTALLY FUCKING CHEATED STOCK MARKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now folks, I will quickly tell you two things. First of all, my new lawyer pal, that will be fresh out of college in the first week this May, and who is going to help me to sue these WOMO ENEMIES FOR ONE TRILLION DOLLARS, after proving a lifelong fucking pattern, of unspeakable and unthinkable persecution that is worse than what was done to all of the Jews combined who suffered under Hitler; and this is truth so help me ALL MIGHTY GODDESS ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE; and he told me that WOMO will probably do this very exact thing to me this very weekend, and he has a buddy over in our local Fort Pierce Fire Company, so as a collaboration, this will ALL FIT SUPER DYNAMITE PERFECTLY, RIGHT INTO MY MOTHER FUCKING HANDS, ladies and freaking gentlemen, YO YO YO YO. So go chew on this little tid bit of indigestion juice, you twat lapping fucking bastard enemies from hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bounce that all around, YO YO Nothing Prophets, of fucking McDonald Dancing 1988′ers, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
The second thing now, is ‘thisssssssssss’, Miss Erica ‘AMC’ Snakes of 1983, WOW! The second thing is that when I shortly blog some major previous three week GAWNUM EQUATIONS from good old pussy cat GAGA, well, let me just say that maybe you should brace for a real roller coaster ride on Wall Street, when I do, and also, here are the already provable facts about the folks trying to get me thrown into the street. They have admitted on tape, to a private investigator, who they think is their friend, well until they all read this fucking blog; about taking the air out of my rear automobile tire, as well as put dozens of cock roaches into my apartment, and one of their friends is indeed, or was at that time, with the PHA, and has been recently fired for misconduct, and Sheriff Mascara sir, I need a lot of help from these HORRIBLE FUCKING THUGS SIR, and also, I cannot in good conscience tell whether this man lost his position with the PH Authority for coming in here and letting dozens of roach babies loose in my apartment about ten months or so ago, or if it was totally an unrelated something else; but thank the goddess that he is no longer working for the ‘PHA’. Still, they are trying to get me on the street and homeless, Sheriff, and I am the one who does nothing wrong and is in here every day and night being good and quiet as a mother fucking church-mouse, YO. This is the lifelong fucking hell that I AM forced to endure, Roseann Neckbites, and yes, maybe if you all were raped by an older married woman and had a crazy vamp after you at age 14 and a half at the same time, or were they one and the same person, as I know this star family can do miracles beyond what Christ did when here, and just who do you think Christ was, and why do you think the Pope really stepped down, and should I go on, Sheriff Mascara, and others out here in the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, YO? As the lovely ‘L&O-CI’ musical genius, and young lovely girl, would say right about now; ‘The End’!
VIDEO LINKS FOR BLOGS, FROM YOUTUBE POSTINGS:
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Mountainpen’s Blog
Just another WordPress.com weblog« MORIANITY-2 OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, JWC2, DAY 00007, BLOG-C
MEET CRACKPOT MOUNTAINPEN NEBNOOSHOO, OH YEAH, RIGHT
« Classical Jew’s Harp Music (MP3s) | Main | “If You Do Not Like, Buy a Record By the Caetano and Do Not Bother Us, Fuck You.” December 12, 2006, More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3), MORE OF THESE HATS ARE AROUND THE AREA OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA. READ SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS AROUND THE 500-600 CHAPTER NUMBER RANGE, AND THEN CLICK ON AN OLD REMADE SONG FROM 1983, WOW MISTER MACY, IS THIS THE FIRST TRUMP, THE LAST TRUMP, OR THE MARK OF THE BEAST, AS INDEED, 1+2+3+4 ALL THE WAY UP TO +36 WILL INDEED EQUAL 666, GEE REALLY, COPYIGHT OFFICE OF 1988? HAY, IT IS ALL DOWN THERE FOR THE RECORD. YOU CAN CLICK HERE FOR MORE, ONLY BELEIVE THIS FOLKS, THE MOUNTAINPEN NEVER TITLED ANYTHING, “THE MEANING OF LIFE”, SOMEONE MUST HAVE ADDED ALL OF THIS TO THEIR DEGRADED COPY TAPES, FROM WHAT WAS STOLEN WHEN THEY BOOSTED MY CAR STEREO AT NORTHEAST PHILL’S FRIENDLY RESTAURANT ON THE ROOSEVELT BOULEVARD IN THE FRIKKIN NINETIES. ALL I EVER DID WAS SAY, AND I’LL QUOTE, FROM 1983, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, SO CLICK HERE:
http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU
At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations.
Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a CD called “The Meaning of Life.” The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title. He’s really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane. Completely, violently insane.
Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David. His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in. Covertly, of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil. (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU’s own Jason Forrest isn’t clear.)
Here then, are three selections from Mark’s version of reality:
Interdimensional Technology (MP3) Android & Angel (MP3) 12th Planet (MP3)
If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.
Posted by Listener Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio Mysteries, MP3s, New Jersey, Religion | Permalink
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At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations.Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a CD called “The Meaning of Life.” The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title. He’s really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane. Completely, violently insane.
Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David. His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in. Covertly, of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil. (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU’s own Jason Forrest isn’t clear.)
Here then, are three selections from Mark’s version of reality:
Interdimensional Technology (MP3) Android & Angel (MP3) 12th Planet (MP3)If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.
Posted by Listener Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio Mysteries, MP3s, New Jersey, Religion | Permalink
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Mountainpen's Blog
I don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.
It was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging, groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy faaaaavoooriiiite”.
When it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher, psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word ‘things’.
Is there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of it?
It’s been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song I’ve ever heard except for this one.
On that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s ‘Sandwiches of You’
I’ve listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and it wasn’t any of those.
Thanks, for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr at earthlink dot net