***MORIANITY
PART FIVE***
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.
THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART FIVE:
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My blogs
About me
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Male
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Industry
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Occupation
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Location
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Hammonton,
New Jersey, United States
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Introduction
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Not
boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can
honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or
have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through
hyperspace, with awareness.
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Interests
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Favorite
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You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. Also, a little philosophy
for you is as follows:
At
the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure
of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.
THIS
IS NOW CHAPTER NUMBER XXI:
If
you have read this opening, feel free to skip this part.
FOLKS,
AS I SAID TO THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE IN THE LATE EIGHTIES ON MY EPITOME
OF HARASSMENT TAPES, GOOD MORNING, GOOD AFTERNOON, GOOD EVENING,
WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE. How can I possibly know when you are
reading what I am writing? I AM not the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY
JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, and never will be, sort of like my old pal
David Charles Roth's only show in town. How he would always remind
me, seemingly on a daily basis, that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is not the
only show in town, nor will they ever be. I believe the tapes are
somewhere available in the great Library of Congress, Copyright
Office, in Washington, District of Columbia, a place may I add with a
very liberated attitude where the age of sexual consent should be
placed, and what is good for the lawmakers, is good for everyone
else, and if that is not true, just exactly how have I misspelled
America? XIII is the number by the way, such a tender age and how the
perverts must wonder why this is not common knowledge and all move
into our great capitol city, right Roy? I still cannot believe that
you told me this, or that nobody seems to know it, know matter how I
spread around what you said to me, old
pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
will be the master sheet for PART 5 of MORIANITY.
Ladies
and gentlemen, it is now thirty-eight minutes past eleven at night on
this emmereffing twenty-third day in March, 2013, Saturday, not so
all right Elton John night, YO! The computer hacking has been off the
scale recently. So has the emmereffing other stuff, from neighborhood
garbage, to right on down the frigging line, Yo folks. Have you
watched any news recently? Everybody is shooting everybody, the
entire world is going crazier than a loony bird on top of a fruit
tree singing coocoocoocoocoo!!!!!!!!!!!!! My pernt here Archie Bunker
queens is thisssssssssss, Mizz Erica Snakes AMC Kane, YO. If my world
is always holding, let's just say for an example that I will quite
randomly throw out here like a game opener baseball throw by a
president or a celeb or whatever, the ratio between my wild and crazy
Huntington Cursed life and the rest of the world is 15:1. IE, if the
world is nuts as hell, and nuts as hell equals N, than my Huntington
Curse is equal to N15, or totally made into an algebraic equation or
expression, without needing to actually solve some big ass
polynomial, the simple HC=N15 will most definitely suffice. We all
know that HC would be Huntington Curse,
I hope, or I'm dealing with morons at the speed of light cubed. The
goddesses forbid, BRAH! So my simple Bunker-pernt then is that if the
factor of 'N' is ever increasing, this would not only explain why my
life is getting beyond the measuring tools of cosmos, but goes onto
prover that in fact, there really may indeed be some type of a weird
cosmic ratio in the HC, that exists, and hence whether it really is
10:1 or 100:1, or some in-between ratio amount, as the world itself
continues to bounce off the walls more and more and more; then think
how much nastier the shit around me is going to get, perhaps
geometrically, or even perhaps frigging quantitatively, YO? Hay
folks, this is just another passing thought that any of us can have
while wiping our butts, or shampooing our hair, especially in a place
where I dare not sing in the bathroom, let alone ever make one single
solitary emmereffing sound, yet my Thug-Nick-Nabes around here can do
no wrong, and appear to have blanket freaking immunity to slowly
torture me to freaking death, BRO! Yes, my TNN's for short, in future
blogging works, perhaps, god folks, or bad ones, as how can I know,
only you all know what you all are, WHAAAAAAAAA???? Perhaps the world
has surmised from here to Wash-Doc that I do not care about buying a
Chevy, calling a lawyer, or getting extremely young sexual partners,
still, WOW,
did my kid's peeps get a charge out of those early eighties
copyrighted tapes of mine,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now let me get onto a
wild whittle topic here, WHAAAAAAAAA, and stay with me, Stay-C, I
will not waste your cherry wine time, I promise you and Re-max that
right here and now, lovely-Lu.
We
have opened the floodgates just a tad little bit earlier on with how
we are not running like a tape but as a spotty helter skelter here
and there puss bag of memory, and how the Exploratronic Supermind, as
a result; is able to control a lot of us entirely, and does in fact
do so, and for the simple two reasons of because they can, and for
the sake of amusement/distraction, from awareness to endlessness.
This is old stuff, now for some new stuff, people. Before I get into
it, Microsucks Corporation messed up my computer with updates both
Wednesday and again on Friday, it slowed it down, it messed it up, it
screwed up my blog sites, and they get totally away with doing their
evil, and I have no power whatsoever to fight these cruddy turds.
They are part of the World
Owner Milituforce Otammite system, or the WOMO,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dennis Snyder back home would put
it perfectly clear, Bruce Nixon, and say, and I quote him now,
“That's reality son”. Well, son, sun, or moon, he is right and
fudge these rat bastards. Speaking of the moon, she is beautiful, a
waxing gibbous nearly full, all lovely and shining so bright all
through this non coldest darkest 1983 night, Clariton country bumpkin
rip offs clear. Now I will be writing to some Federal Trade
Commission people, and some other addresses I have obtained through
my local library. If they have the right to do this and a person
cannot buy a PC and use it and everything is licensed through them,
and we are but their slaves, and this is all legal, then I need to
throw this crap in the dam landfill, and move to South America,
PRON-FREAKING-TOW (TOE), TOO, GLINA
GOODWITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I cannot fight
them, and since they will not let me join them, and this was all
tried with many attempts through the years ever since this
emmereffing nightmare all began for me back in emmereffing 1986 on
August the fifteenth; then it is time to pack up and ride off into
the sunsets of HELLFIRE!!!!!!!!!!! My rotten daughter can laugh and
get a thrill out of my diseased twisted life, along with the rest of
the twisted ill WOMO, and I'll just be gone forever and out of your
way, so find some other poor Lenny Briscoe bastard to kick around,
right David freaking Mace-cans Roth of 1999????????? So let me end
this by getting into the opening part of the topic I wish to discuss,
after telling you that I am not sure if this new Microsucks hacking
is why the wordpress site no longer works normally for me, or
whrtther or not these two items that are happening sinmultaneously
are connected or not, how can I ever emmereffing know, folks? I can
barely turn these machines on and off, and nobody wants to ever help
me, and if you think you need to go to Hogwarts to see frigging
magic, you are totally wrong, you need to come to freaking MORIANITY,
the other stuff is just fiction. This is all frekkin' totally real,
and is the quintessential nightmare of poor old MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR. If the new garbage hack at the
Wordpress site does not go away, I will merely after this blog, be
posting there that I have posted another blog, and I'll make another
master sheet just saying this and printing the link so anyone
following me there can do a simple click on. Please look after me a
little bit, lovely AG Pam B. Anything you might be able to do for me
would most definitely be appreciated. Now for the topic of tonight.
I
have always had strange abilities to do certain things mentally.
People just laugh at me and mock me, as this is part of the dam HC.
Other folks who can do a quarter of what I have accomplished, are
splattered all over the media but folks, that is cool and fine and
dandy, as I do not want popularity, but I do not wish to be only
mocked and intentionally kept down and invisible either. I should
have the right to live an average in-between middle of the road life,
only what I should be able to do, and what is actually my real truth,
are two entirely different emmereffing things,
L-4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, this is off on a tangent, so
let me get back on pernt here Mister queens Bunker, sir. One of
numerous things that I AM able to do with my mind, is separate my
life personality intentionally, at will, and worm hole time blocks as
though ten or even fifty years is just not there, Harry Potter POOF,
gone, eliminated. Now the argument is always there that my search for
Sarah back in 1995, led to this, but whether it did or not, I
couldn't OJ care less, Doctor Gannon, MC, Chad Everett. I am able to
place blocks of time in my life into suspended animation, and move
around them outside of normal time, and this is why I thought nothing
of taping television shows onto a VCR back in the nineties, and watch
them 5-10 years later, as though nothing inside of that passed time,
ever had happened, it was merely continuing from one era and worm
holed into the later era. I was still going to watch the second half
of that game I told you all about, after Diana Ross landed and
dropped from that helicopter, and it would have been a second ago to
me, if I did this right now tonight, but even my abilities do not
include all ready knowing that my wonderful family would end up
robbing me of all my material possessions, including all of my tapes,
so there never can be an ending to several things that I totally
planned to view, Marcia Doorbreaker Brady. Because I am only HUMAN,
Sir Bruce Allen Pennock, I cannot predict with total accuracy, what
every evil son of a witch is going to end up doing to me, 5-10-20-35
years down the line. Hence, I no longer act as though any of my own
legally owned personal property is mine, but rather, I use the Dwayne
Dyer Theory or the DDT, not to be freaking ever confused with the
ZDT, but as he puts it so dam well folks, YO; we do not own anything,
we are renting, all of us, if anyone owns it at all, it is the
children, we are holding for them, and that is why we have them.
Well, Mister Woodside of 1974, and 2007, I have no children. Or do I?
This is all what is so far beyond the feeble ability for even the
greatest fiction writers such as Potter and Patterson, and you name
them, they can never make stuff up like my dam life, as my dam life
is not made up, it is all real and happening, and it is no
emmereffing psychotic freaking delusion. Yes, in 2007, my blogs said
what I believed to be the total truth, I HAVE NO CHILDREN. I also had
my own stuff, my photos, my tapes, and lots more. Then suddenly, AT
WALMART, I see that a lot a crap has all changed, right out of a
billion buttwipe Hogwarts. No human could imagine or make all; of
this up, no 50 Einstein's, no 50 authors like Patterson or the author
of Potter. Now back to my ability to worm hole my consciousness, and
how this is all part of a future knowledge known as STM,
(Space-time-Mind). Page eleven of emmereffing eleven just freaking
struck me, so I will now need to friggin compensate with my fives,
Miss Dirthole Disease Jane Notfondau.
55555555555555555555555555555555555, plus 55555555555555555555, times
555555555555, divided by 555555555555555555555555555, is equal to I
DON'T GIVE A FOOKING HOOT-POLLUTE. I just need to look at these
freaking butt-wiping fives, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HA-HA-HA-HA-WHO, Icabod freaking Halloween Crane of 1982? WOW, I have
sure entertained the United States Copyright Office over the years,
huh Roy old buddy, Museums and all, but what is coming their way in
two weeks time will blow away the world, as this will take the entire
other stuff, and tie it all together in a nice neat perfect snot
knot, Mister Gordo and Mister Gordian, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!! There
is an endless amount of emmereffing puke to tell, this is me merely
opening the doors, and when I remove them from the hinges, maybe more
lovely pink-purple lightning will come all around me as it did last
night, hells bells, daddy; I was ready for the
great mystical Lakehouse to appear in my room as a
miniature, and then just walk into it and swim up to the surface of
the lake behind the Haddonwood Nuclear Swim Club of Deptford, New
Jersey,huh Kathy Gatherer Cannon
Microsoft??????????????????????????????? May I oce again, please,
Mister Stacey-Macy? Thank YOU.
W------O------W
Well folks, it is time to say good night to Carol Burnett, and yes,
sweetie, I AM indeed pulling on my ear, lovely lady. BYE-BYE, cold
cruel evil wicked suinful demonic mother fucking world,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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