4:23
PM-EDST, 29 APRIL, 2013, MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON
I
AM UNDER A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE TODAY, LADIES AND
FREAKING GENTLEMEN, AND I AM FOUND DEAD IN HERE SOON, I WAS MURDERED
BY ALL OF THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES WHO ARE AND HAVE BEEN ALL
ALONG, LISTED ON MY BLOGS, IN ONE CAPACITY OR ANOTHER, AND IN VARYING
DEGREES OF CULPABILITY BY EACH OF THEM, DETERMINED ONLY BY A
SUCCESSFUL THOROUGH INVESTIGATION BY ALL NECESSARY AUTHORITIES. THIS
IS AN OFFICIAL LEGAL DYING UTTERANCE AND DECLARATION, MADE BY ME,
MARK WAYNE MOHR, MATCHING MY RECORD LATER LISTED, AT THE UNITED
STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE, AG OF FLORIDA, P.B., IF NECESSARY, FOR MY
OWNED COPYRIGHTS SINCE BACK INTO BOYHOOD, EVEN THOUGH THOSE LISTED
ONLY GO BACK TO 1978 WHEN I WAS FULLY GROWNM, IT IS ENOUGH TO BEGIN
THIS MAJOR QILD INVESTIGATION WHEN MY DEAD BODY IS DISCOVERED IN THIS
PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY APARTMENT, SHOULD THIS INDEED OCCUR. This
legal document is now considered to be legally true and binding, to
the best of my knowledge, all things ever told on this MORIANITY and
all of my Mountainpen blogs, and is also officially now legally
signed, the second it posts up legally, to both the sites of
WORDPRESS, and BLOGGER.
OK
ladies and gentlemen and kind viewers, here is the situation of what
is going down around me personally today from the second I was
awakened with a loud door slam just around the noon hour somewhere,
on the legal date as shown and listed above at the heading of this
blog. I want to thank my audience for putting up with me, seeing me
at my best, and my worst, and all the gray areas in-between.
First
off, I called Mikey as he was supposed to call me, and did not, and
he told me things are bad and he will get back to me later on. They
are bad, but there is a little more happening here, actually, it is
another Avalon BonJovi deal going down, and as always, I am totally
unable to prove it, ans well as absolutely powerless to stop and
prevent any of it. So what else is new, same old same old,
(WEIN-SOSO)? I know that he is just going to disappear down to Miami
forever, and I will never hear from him again, as something is going
on and he is not telling me straight, and I've been mother fucking
lied to enough all of my life, to recognize a fucking cunt lapping
con job when I'm getting one, YO!
Now
I will be where OTAMM MILI-2-FORCE always eventually mother fucking
gets me, sooner or later, it is every mother fucking cock sucking
time, all my life without fail or exception, TOTALLY ISOLATED, where
I can be picked apart by BRIGGBASE WOMOTAMM vultures and human sub
bottom feeding vampires. Someday, this pile of pure fucking trash ass
slimy scum, will indeed burn in a fiery fell forever, in unfathomable
fucking cunt agony, for this nightmare hell that they've enjoyed
putting me through, just to keep the stock puke sucking market
endlessly going up, and their dirt bag precious fucked up economy
going strong. Sacrifice one for the good of the many, huh Spock and
Kirk and Humpback mother fucking 1986 whales. Well this fucking great
fish says, BULLSHIT, and fucking kiss my ass. It's not fair, and any
god or goddess that permits this inconceivable evil to fucking cunt
prevail, is no entity I have any desire to love or worship, drop
dead, all mighty god, whoever you really are. That is what SHARKEY
MARKEY has to say on this blog today, YO! Oh yeah, watch me swim, and
hear me tell it.
Oh
yes people, as good old Jason Forrest Summer,
SAYS IT ON HIS WFMU RADIO WEB-SITE SO
WELL, AND I WILL QUOTE HIM HERE EXACTLY, YO, ; “FUCK
YOU”.
The
day began slowly getting bad with one little thing compounding onto
another one, and before a real long time, things were in the mother
fucking soup, and boiling away white hot, and light fucking speed
squared. Here is the hell.
I
got up and quickly cleaned up and dressed, called Mikey, and as I
said, I think he is planning on vanishing away without telling me, so
you know what, FUCK HIS DAM ASS, my mom taught me shit as a kid that
I'll remember to the mother fucking cunt lapping die that I
physically die as the person I currently am experiencing human life
through, and that is that if someone, anyone, your own family,
friends, a woman, if they don';t want you, the fucking hell with
them, MOVE THE FUCKING SHIT ON, or as Billy Harner and Rob Hartley
would tell me a lot back in Jersey, “Turn the fucking page, Mark”,
then they'd puff some more on their weed down in the cellar. Have any
good stories to share with me over tea and crumpets, other Patterson?
In a few things, nobody topped my fucking mother, she really knew her
onions, all the way to Hollywood's fake squeeze tears and phony miss
kisses, Jeese Louise surfer Fonty, is this all about as totally
fucking surreal sir as it gets, or should we secretly meet later at
Genlows transdimensional house, and both of us can break into
intertime and hang ten together, only it might end up hanging 10
million, along with Dick Wolf and Comcast Cable included in the mix.
Yeah, the mix, don't get me fucking started here peeps. If I had the
shit I had before this star family of fucking magic bullets took it
all from me commissioner ?Warren Washdock, I would be able to do a
harmony track, hero style, PUN, PUN, PUN! WAYWINY LILLY FUCKING
MUNSTER?
Well,
yes, let old Blogger mountainpen, share his horrible fucking day of
assault with his viewing audience. I want you all to know that I
really do appreciate your reading my blog, and someday, if I decide
to CAP the entire universe to another place and delete it, as I
already did in a parallel universe at least on one occasion; I will
be sure the system knows who among the crowd, will be in the list to
be 'saved', yeah, ain't technology great. Makes you wonder, saving,
deleting, capping, techno-pop creations, really, it is niot what can
we do, it is a lot easier to see things now as, what CAN'T we do,
with all of this incredible stuff. Then PP comes along with her tower
that has a pad next to it with a bubble that swings over, and can
turn anything inside of it into zeros and ones, put it through the
internet and send it to any terminal that also has a station like the
sending one. I saw this in a parallel universe, and for crissake, my
daughter was only 8 years fucking old when she invented it over at
the Harborfields Detention Center. I told all this, I blogged it all
years and years ago when morianity was new. Then just early this
year, we hear about the 3-D laser-printer and how it can actually
create items now, such as those plastic guns. If I was dreaming all
of this, I am sorry, but I am just about positive that I saw this
talked about right here in this universe, not in some other one while
dreaming as an exploratron. I will never ever forget hitting the
buttons and watching the solar system turn blue and still, then
pasting it far off into another galaxy on the opposite side of the
universe. That was so real, I do not know whether or not that
happened, or the laser gun printer thing happened, or what happened,
over here where I am now typing this blog. I know if it did happen,
not the capping of the solar system, but the laser-printer thing, we
never ever heard another thing about it on th news or from any other
media source that I am aware of any-ha. Well, that all being cock
sucking told and said, let me tell you what the WOMO MILI-2-FORCE did
to me today, and this day WOULD BE SUPER BOTBAR, if not for getting
my fucking cunt eating ninety dollar refund check back from my
wonderful uncle Sam Huntington, (the IRS) for those ignorant of the
history of my wonderful and wild Huntington family, that managed for
the most part to do a CALLIO, and stay out of the limelight and more
deeper in the darker shadowy realms of secrecy, other than for
becoming a four term Connecticut Governor, as my 7th
grand-pappy did indeed die in office there back in 1790 or somewhere
there about, if not then it was 1796, it was just shy of the start of
the eighteenth century.
DOORS-DOORS-DOORS,
how I despise living in this fucking cunt eating total shit hole, YO.
Well, I had a talk with Resident Manager, Debbie Marotto when I took
out my trash and left to go on a few small errands, gassing up the
car, purchasing a few movies at the Good Will Store on VHS tape, and
a few grocery items at Publix, then pick up my medication at the
Walgreen Pharmacy, check my bank balance at TD, and stop in for a few
item needed from the old dollar Deals Store, where not everything is
a dollar there any longer, oh well, that's progress, YO. Debbie will
put me in a place where I can hear a pin drop, I am thinking of
taking her up on her offer. I will not be up as high and will not get
to see my lovely lightning this nicely, but then, what has she done
for me recently where I could really care less? I mean I understand
what she said at the Eden Gate fence that day to me nearly 130
centuries ago, I understand why the high Priestess Wicca folks call
this being what they do, “Triple-Goddess”, as this is what my
daughter in human form is now, and has been since she went away and
left me as Sarah on Tennessee Avenue in the summer time of 1969, and
on and on I could go, but nobody needs to hear it all, and I don't
need to make any unsuccessful crossovers on the Chappaquiddick
Bridge, or be fired upon with any magic ass bullets, Mister Warren.
Still, she said that she would spare the world since I loved her so
much and was asking her to, that day so long ago on the other side of
that fence, then she teased me by pretending to like my brother's
filthy gifts more than she liked mine, and began flirting with him,
and I was just so dam jealous that I was not ABLE to stand it any
longer one day, so I raised myself and a rock, and that was it for my
brother's head, it';s all in that wonderful book, ISISCYLLA, and
IWALU no matter what you do to me, and how much you freaking love to
endlessly tease me down through the endless
ages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, future great football players and
past great committee men on Crapitol hill, as my ex business partner
PP, said so well, “SHIT HAPPENS”, and taking that in conjunction
with what the late Dawn-Marie king said to me shortly thereafter; 'IT
IS WHAT IT IS', well; I suppose I need to go back into time, and
scream out to the entire cosmos from 1969, “OK fine then, so I
guess THAT'S THE WAY IT GOES, ZIGGY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
is nothing that can be done about my fucking evil neighbors, Debbie
said, other than for me to move and get a note from my doctor, as I
am sure he would supply me with, it is just so fucking cunt unfair
that I have to be the one to move and be inconvenienced and pay
money, and sweat my balls fucking off, and w3hen ?i did nothing wrong
to deserve any of this filthy fucking dog shit. LIFE TOTALLY MOTHER
FUCKING BLOWS & SUCKS YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, I had my
talk with her and then went to my car and saw a major barrage of
nasty ass chemtrails all over the fucking skies of fort Pierce,
especially to the west of the town's air-space, over I-95 and even
further west of that towards Lake
OKAY-2-CHOKE-ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did anybody say June 4,
1983, Orwell, or Doogie H? Jesus fucking Christ in HELL!
THE
MILITUFORCE was out in droves, not only chemtrailing the entire
western area from me, but loud aerial assaults were also buzzing all
around, abnd when I came back home to park and get my shit into a
shopping cart so I could get it up an elevator and then into my
fucking prick chewing apartment, that harassing huge military evil
demonic vessel that oove4s to ORBIT around in endless noisy circles,
was also right there to greet me, AGAIN, as it was there a short
while back over at the same shopping area that I had just left today
after buying some grocery items and a few VHS tape movies. But after
I had the initial items and before I tracked back towards home and
stopped at Dollar Deals and the Walgreen's for my script-meds refill,
a real huge slob on a fucking dirt bag motor cycle piece of garbage,
cut me off and I already knew he was going to illegally get to the
left of me and turn right and ahead of me, while waiting to pull out
of the mini-mall with Publix and the other numerous stores all there
at the Virginia Avenue intersection. I could tell, I have learned to
read shit, and then when all this air shit is also persecuting, that
was my convincer, and I knew before it happened that indeed, this was
what would go down, and sure enough, it did, and if I had not been
careful and aware, he could have caused me a real disaster today,
FORT PIERCE POLICE FREAKING DEPARTMENT, and Attorney General Pam
Bondi. If it was just the air, or just the biker, then you could
rationally say, well maybe I am a bit overly paranoid, but folks, cut
me a fucking cunt lapping little break here, OKI, it was all of this
shit that all kept happening, so don';t anyone go fucking telling me
that I have some wild ass fucking sick imagination and that I need
psychotherapy or counseling and psych medications, and all that
hocus pocus nonsense fucking jazz, YO! Gear shift, no grind,
shift-shift, page eleven of fucking cunt lapping eleven just nailed
me so I'll need to cunt-phlegm-rape, or (COMPENSATE) TO PUT THIS A
BIT TOMMY ROE POLITER, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here we go, new kids!
555555555555555555,
PLUS 5555555555, TIMES 555555, IS EQUAL TO WHO FUCKING ASS GIVES
THIRTEEN SHITS OR A WASHDOCK FOR THAT MATTER??????????????????????
555555555555555555555555555555555
LET
ME RUN OUT THIS GOD DAM CLOCK ON THIS GOD DAM PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN,
WITH JANE WHORE FONDA!!!!!!!
A
stinking rotten freaking 20 years is 5 minutes to me, ya' rotten
lousy dirty blee blah blum and a lot more, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
sir, there was one nice big puss plus out of this day of otherwise
total ass shit, and that was coming in with my shit in a cart,
checking my mail slot, and getting my income tax refund check,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Screw you enemy OTAMM, (Organized Trash Against
Mark mohr). Despite all this hell and fucking dog shit, YO, I
managed to make 3 units on my systems-roulette before I began to
blog, and yesterday on a really fucking SUPER-ASS-BOTBAR-DAY, I
managed to get a nice quick four and a half units, TEE HEE HEE,
LILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will be asking GAGA KITTY CAT,
why this pummeling siege was done to me today, but I already do know
one answer no matter what else the cat may or may not reveal to me,
YO YO YO YO!!! I know that when I AM DOWN AND OUT, like in both times
with MIKEY and calling him, yesterday and again today; THEY PICK ON
ME WHEN I AM TH ENMOST FRAGILE. This is a typical dirt bag military
strategy, and is why I am not shy about hating th mother fucking
military, I do not see dirty fighting scum bags, as my personal
heroes, no matter how lovely voice Scylla sings the song. True blue
heroes don't have to fight dirty, and the US military does fight
dirty, sanctioning, waiting for weakness, blockades, bombing little
nations like Vietnam back into the stone age, to quote a L&O
episode, hay, I cannot have a lot of respect or admiration for shit
like that, and so no fucking wonder so many people all around this
globe hates America!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, I love
fucking America, but this is not America anymore, and I know for sure
that it has not been, at least since the world turned upside fucking
cunt down for me back on the fifteenth day in August of 1986, and
I'll go on saying it over and over and over, so yes, new kids in
town, here we go, drum beats and all, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I
still think there is hope in the future, and for the world and even
for America, but as of the date on this blog, well, inward snort,
exhaled grossed out throat sound, and puey, I mean, hay, you want it
straight and up front down and dirty, or does anyone out here want me
to flower shit all up and start lying to my nice viewers, WOW, witch
will it be? AHA-AHA-AHA nothing, so move out of the way Mike McNulty,
YO!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC,
you know what to do, so go do it,
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE////////////////EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, AND
STOP
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is Brenda
Moore when we all don't need her?
Hopefully many miles away, with all of the bartenders, the
lifeguards, the Crooked Mayors; and lotsanlots of other
quintessential horseshit, huh Doctor
Unhappy Garrigan of 1970????????????????????????? BYE-BYE,
and don't die on me, 2008 Copyright
Office lady, I am only interested in hyperspace music, but
they gave me the message all right, even way fucking back then,
sweetie, I swear you could see it in the eyes of the news anchor
peeps reporting the dam ass news, cut me one, but please no stinkers,
Margie Leo!
**CHAPTER
LIX (00060) M-5, SUPER BOTBAR!**
BEAUTIFUL
LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW
PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.
I
NEED YOUR HELP GODDESS DIANA, I AM UNDER A DEATH SIEGE WITH THE ENEMY
NABES IN THIS BUILDING, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME,
DZA.
55555555555555555555555555
I
HOPE YOU
ENJOYED READING THIS
CHAPTER
NUMBER 60.
WOW,
IT IS DOUBTFUL THAT YOU DID, WITH ALL OF
MY DAM ROTTEN PROFANITY. SO SORRY. OH
WELL, MAYBE TOMORROW WILL BE BETTER,
GARY-7 AND OTHERS. THEN AGAIN, MAYBE YOU
WON'T STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TAKEN ME TO THE
WEEDS! IN FACT, I THINK I WOULD PLACE
BOOK AND BETS ON
THIS ONE!
**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC
TRACK
ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT
THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:
Only
the opening title words are real.
Jupiter,
Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN, YOU NOW ARE READING
MORIANITY PART 5,
AND
I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS CHAPTER
NUMBER 00060. WHAAAA.
55555555
HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 29 April.
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WHASUP
VIQUEEN MARILOO?
WHASUP
STOCK BROKER GORDO?
WWYWINY MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?
December 12, 2006
More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)
This is merely a harmony track. I am
trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING
OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at
the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on,
my wonderful great Morians.
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:
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.
As
Bob Chabot said in 1981,
is there any excuse 4U?
Signed,
da' Mountainpen.
Let
us go back to twelve days ago, to a week from last Tuesday. I went,
on advice from the normal library that I go to, to a sister branch on
the west side of North Fort Pierce, Florida, just a few blocks from
where I used to live before coming to reside here at this PHA
Building. Again, I was there with the intent of trying to get my
song, “You'll Be Crossing Over” to be uploaded to my Youtube
account, at http://youtube/paulaking2011/
and was not treated very well there, and it was as though they
already had it all planned out to be that way with me when I came in.
They could not be sure when I was coming, but I did phone ahead to
talk to that same dirt bag, Rick, who screwed me at the other library
down on Melody Lane when he was going to help me with my blogs back
when I was having all that trouble with the Tweeting rockin' robins
in the summer time in 2010, causing the stock market to soar as a
result, from around 8400 points up to just under ten thousand points
within only a few months, via the parallel-event between hurting me
and the Dow Jones always going up as a result. Again, as with that
other bad time in my life in August of 2010, after this time, the
DJIA has soared up for two solid weeks after having its first down
week in ages after this ridiculous absurd ludicrous based on nothing
rally, began growing so powerfully this year in 2013. If this in all
honesty is really all up in my sick imagination for 27 years, then I
really do have one hell of a fantastic imagination, so much so, that
there is no way that peeps who indeed know I exist, and I think my
copyright record speaks for itself that this is quite real and true
and not imagined, then these lovely folks would have long ago made me
an offer to write for one of their studios and make them a marvelous
mint of cash, with my WILD IMAGINATION. I think we all up here on
this blog, KNOW EXACTLY WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON, with this, with all
of my life's woes, with parallel event and the stock market and my
persecution done intentionally, with my family, with my daughter,
with Hyper-Space and other matching initials; and most
especially, with music.
I
find it very difficult to believe, that any 'for-real' peeps up here;
do not see and believe, that this entire story is all real and true
and honest, and pitiful; and the best words to be added here, would
be demonically monstrous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
will not insult my audience, of which I know is between ten and forty
nice folks. You all know this is all the truth, after-all, just what
would I possibly have to gain with a story this totally outlandish
and inconceivably absurd, be it a work of either fiction or lack of
mental health. I am not saying that I am the most healthy person
alive, physically, mentally, emotionally, and on I could go, but I
sure try hard, and I am the product of one hell of an unfathomable
amount of covert and totally illegal abuse, from a very powerful
group of absolutely horrendous wicked rotten people, who most
assuredly, to use old lingo terms, will endlessly burn in a horrible
hell someday, for doing all this unspeakable detestable and
despicable stuff to me, an innocent pathetic harmless victim of their
criminal mischief that rivals even what Hitler ever did a long time
ago in Germany. This is just honest truthful words, and if they bite
or hurt, then whoever may be reading them and in pain, is in for 'a
ticket south', to quote my old pal, banged up blue nungen car and all
from the middle eighties, Ugie Horowitz AKA and under Hollywood stage
name, Michael Landon.
Well
people, let me keep this moving right along. None of us are dumb, and
I have been told by somebody that I am just looking for my 15 minutes
like everybody else. This is a filthy dirty rotten lie, good folks. I
am looking for a lot more than 15 minutes. I am looking to start up a
great foundation that would aid many people just like me with
terrible problems, people being persecuted by all sorts of evil mean
pursuers of them, ex lovers, family, revenge seekers, even
financially distressed individuals, even those in trouble with
Internal Revenue, any kind of persecution. Now this foundation would
always operate within the boundaries of the legal system, and would
even try to assist those in trouble, contributing one dollar for
every dollar they pay, things like that. This is my dream, and has
been since 2006 when I started all of this on-line junk, at the
suggestion of the two peeps in my life then who though that it may
solve some of my horrible problems, Christopher Bennett, and Edward
Himacane Lynch. But there have been a couple of very mean and jealous
folks, who have accused me of using, or trying to use, my situation
since 1980-1989, whatever that situation really
is in reality in this universe,
with my mystery-caller-goddess of all and or any BABYLON locations,
and in or out of any regular time STM illusions, in all of this. This
was always about as far from my mind as anyone can imagine, and when
I began my blogging and Morianity early in 2006, I did not even have
a clue about half the stuff that I have now come to learn as the next
few years ticked along. I do not use people, I try and find a
mutually acceptable cooperation that is anything but one sided, and
for any reason if this is not agreed to, then I am off to the next
project, and so on.
This
applied to CHEMTRAILS,
and anyone with a brain, and with ears; understands. Then it was
revealed to me, just like the Disney thing; a short while after the
CT
video was posted
up, that if something is done; it sort of proves that all of this
goes beyond the realm of miracles and pope canonizations and any of
it. I speak of comparing two tunes and then using a little techno-pop
machinery of the eighties in conjunction with some tapes that for
reasons none other than pure providence, happened to make it down
with me to Florida, the night that I packed a very few things, and
ran away from where I was being SS Kidnapped, by distant cousins, and
this is not me talking, this is a close cousin to a top recording
artist, the great BonJovi for gods sake. He is the one who saw all
this, brought it to my attention, and then, for wild reasons, after a
long time operating a sound studio in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, one
day shortly after this mess was all going down live, poof, THE
END, no more
Avalon BonJovi studio to go to and do my projects. Oh, and this is
all just by pure random coincidences. Well, Jack McCoy, Abbey
Carmichael and the entire Law & Order gang would not believe
that, and guess what my friends out here, NEITHER DO I, GOOD
FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll tell you another thing I don't
believe. It is almost as if ISIS is taunting me, but I cannot be
sure, I have to do an FBI here and keep this idea-concept on the
'back-burner' for right now due to insufficient intelligence data,
after-all, I have been cut off from all contact, everyone has totally
abandoned me and hates me, and for nothing that I have legitimately
done to any of them. To say it biblically, this entire thing is just
about as SATANIC AND DEMONIC
AS IT GETS, good peeps. But what do I mean by taunting. Well, if I
had watched and taped that silly show that MC suddenly just out of
nowhere decided to do, I would have had a million words to play with.
I am only interested in what I have of her from the days when she was
playing lab-teck, this is not a game, and just because she wants to
be sixteen forever, I DON'T. None of this was a game, and it was all
done to try and break out of whatever it is that has been going on
all around me since 1980 give or take, and it was her all along, and
a moron can see it. If I were just trying to make a thousand unknown
tunes of great known artists, I would be taping every dam show on
television for voice retrievals. I live my own life, and it is very
private and personal to me. This isn't some stupid game, it is real,
it is agonizing, and I just want OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE, and can any
of you out here really blame me for gods sake? Out of a few recent
things said to me by peeps that I absolutely cannot mention any
names; only one had some powerful merit, and again, proves the
powerful truths about being so close in the forest, as not to see the
trees, an old and very wise-person's expression, at least IMHO, L-4.
They said if dream-music is transdimensional, then how can you say
the tune of “You'll Be Crossing Over” is not from a parallel
universe, when the harmony is done when a teenaged girl is asleep in
a dream, playing lab-technician, in '84? WOW, this person blew me
away, and shows that I have some real thinking peeps out here, and I
will protect their privacy and not divulge any more about them, but
will further elaborate on what this person has suggested. You
are RIGHT, FELLA!!!!!!
I
will no longer click on the song, and will not be posting the full
tune up. I will not be responsible for the possible apocalyptic
results all over the world, should too many people hit the post or it
even mini viral'd as this could indeed be a catastrophic deal. It has
to do with electronic circuitry and the inherent forces behind what
separates all universes from each other in a frequency vibration. You
do not need to know more than that, good peeps. So please, whoever
has made my life so horrible since a year ago when this tune started
all of this, I won't ever post the final mixed CD, and I'll even be
taking down all my Youtube stuff, so please, leave me alone and cut
me a break,, I don't mean any harm to any of you, BEAM ME FUCKING UP
SCOTTIE, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My coming to learn
that this stuff causes major disturbances in a STM electromagnetic
field of cosmic proportions, began around 1974. The convincer knock
out punch was 1980 and my demo tunes and Mount Saint Helen's
erupting. Then I still played around with this for about six more
years, and the rest is history, perhaps it';s even why they persecute
me and have since 1986, the timeline fits, and many believe that the
planet is indeed being watched over and even protected by something,
someone, who knows, the gods, ISIS, whatever. But my question
remains, then why do all of this to me, ISIS? Oh well, enough for
tonight,m I just wanted to get this door opened up and have us begin
to lightly explore the foyer area beyond it. We have now sufficiently
done so, or at least, IMHO we have, and Rockford says it all, with or
without his great files, “We can always get back to this”!
READ
ON, SHAKESPEARE MACBETH. Hyperspace
effects my ass, Walter; I am not the fucking moron you all think that
I am, ya' rotten no good EW
pricks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TEE-HEE.
I
HOPE THAT YOU ARE ENJOYING
THE READING OF THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00060.
Today however, most
will not be 2 happy with my rotten behavior, sorry
about that Chief of 86.
NUMEROUS
ITEMS ARE
CAPPED IN, FOR THOSE WHO MAY BE
INTERESTED, AS WELL AS
FOR ANY NEW VIEWERS.
THIS
IS MORIANITY,
PART FIVE. PLEASE
HAVE A VERY
NICE DAY.
CHAPTER
00060, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Now
the rest of the topic for this blog is about the invention of these
early eighties personal computers, AKA PC's. First, this jerk fucking
off nabe across the cunt eating hallway from me IS PART OF THIS
BUILDING CONSPIRACY WITH THE COMPUTER DELL GUY, and is why I was
unable to secure any help from him, other than to get a mind blowing
course one night from him about the real WOMO (World-Owners) and that
would be none other than MICROSOFT CORPORATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All
others follow in close seconds or thirds, obediently wagging their
tails behind them; and keeping their heads down, and their yes sir
yelps endlessly strong, loud, and coming. Continue please, you are
reading the section in Morianity for Millennium 3, Chapter #5.
Let
us talk about these PC's, and how this all fits and connects with me,
while bearing in mind the entire time, the little lesson in weaving
and looms and our great great grandma's sowing habits, brought into
the real next generation. First off, without even touching anything
around this little quick next few sentences, let me just say the shit
I feel compelled to say, and get it the fuck out of the way and over
with, YO!
If
I could wake up by some Irish Leprechaun Magic, (ILM) can be used
after this point as a short abbreviation for this three word phrase;
and be a total computer geek black hat cracker hacker, or on that
level without doing anything illegal or immoral, with what I need in
my personal life situation, don't be shy along with me world, as you
know I would use this to my advantage, keeping it as legal and moral
as is humanly possible, but when the road gets real tough here and
there, with all the chips down underneath the surface of the gaming
table, and the skies are all gray and bleak and black and dark; well,
let us not get silly here, or try and fool ourselves. I would use
this and I would make the MILITUFORCE
really PAY for what has been done to me,
and would still quite naturally, be being done to me at any so-called
point of future STM. So the quintessential DUH is of course THEY are
not going to make it real ass super easy for me to reach that
computer savvy stage and point. It really again, as the great Toronto
Bank of WOW says on their really cool TV ad spots, “It isn't rocket
science”, and I'll gladly throw in here, “We do not need your
services, Subaru Vonbrahn. I have tried to spell this dude's name 10
ways back from Sunday, and as usual, MSC is no help at all! Any
celebrated last name spelled as it is sounded out, should be
recognized with groups of words with one being the correct spelling.
Yes, gear shift, no grind, these scum over there have been in and out
all night, 1,2,3,4,5 in the morning, even now at nearly fucking half
past, and Friday, I am telling Debbie that I will write a letter to
whoever runs this building, as this is fucking bullshit, not
'cigarette butt bullcarp'. Yes it is amazing how very inexpensive
items can serve as a spy stethoscope, placed on my door, and listened
to through my headphones on my bed any time I wish. I am a very
paranoid person, it is only a matter of time before I will know a lot
more. The entire put together item cost me under 15 bucks, and is a
great investment, as I need to know what goes on with ENEMIES. If
folks would not harass and persecute me, I would never think of doing
things like fucking this. I had to take a break, and go on, what
David Roth used to call, late in the nineteen-eighties; a 'Crampana
Shit Attack', only his main one that I'll always clearly remember, he
also called the Dark Shitholes Attack, as he actually had the balls
after being hit with a WOMO death beam at the Westmont, New Jersey
High Speed-Line Train Station; to use the back yard woods, behind
Roseann Delaney's home, in Haddonfield, New Jersey; to keep from
browning out in his Bermuda shorts; TEE HEE HEE, Lilly M. Things like
this do not happen with consistency and regularity to normal average
healthy grown men, such as myself and David. So what else can the
explanation be? I am surely not making up this story. Would I be
proud to say I am always getting horrible fucking shit attacks, and
not always properly making it to a facility, over the past 27 fucking
cunt years? Give me a break, Margie Leo, 4 freaking crissake. Let us
return now to the original topic of the personal computer and me, and
our twining interaction. If I could do all the things I'd like to be
able to do with them, my enemies would be in very serious trouble,
until they came over covertly and stealthfully, and did a Marie Fahey
on me, in the name of domestic enemy terror, and the Patriot Act; or
some other total nonsense mother fucking garbage that if you added
three dollars to, would get you a dozen shinny quarters; and that's
all it would get you, YO!!!!!! If this was a fair world, I could sue
the fucking FBI for breaking intentionally, all of my legally paid
for and totally owned, electronic equipment, back early in this
century, while I lived at the Mullica Mobile Manor, just east of
fucking cock sucking Hammonton, Blu-Berryville, in New Green-Garden
State Jersey, let me get off this blog beach for now, GOV, and return
to the topic of PC's and me!!!!!!!!!!!! No, they don't show this
dirty part of the FISA shit, on the great L&O TV show, but in
real-life, they break your stuff, after all; what the fuck can you do
about it, complain; and almost get locked up, by the fucking
worthless Mullica Township Cops, back that day? Whaju say Dawn and
Dad, SHEEEEEEEEEIT!
Now
these fucking miserable jerk off nabes of mine, come into their unit
after visiting with this asshole on my floor with the computer, who
knocked on my door that day on 12/18/2012, when I had Dennis Chase
over here from the local Publix, posting my 'YBCO' harmony track
tune, to my Youtube account, at http://youtube/paulaking2011/
BRO!
I
know they all are friends, and constantly visit with each other, and
conspire to fuck with me, both with my not getting any computer help,
remember the story the resident manager of my building told me about
Tom being bored with nothing to do, only he tells me that he's too
fucking busy to aid me with my PC? Oh yeah, right, sure, shore, most
definitely makes total sense, and it does, and I am not being fucking
facetious, as it makes complete 100% sense. It is a plot to keep me
fucked, fucked, fucked, and FUCKED!!!!!!!! Those that won't see my
story is all real and true, SIMPLY DO NOT WANT IT TO BE TRUE. AFTER
ALL, IT MIGHT JUST TOUCH THEM, OR SOMEBODY WHO THEY LOVE, IF IT IS
TRUE; and that is not within their mother
fucking comfy cozy zones, but is totally within the zone of
the GWPOS, or Giant Williamstown Police Officer Syndrome, that I have
told over and over about an incident that happened in the middle
fucking nineties. WHAAAAAAA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MMCN!
Folks,
I went on a real roll for two fire alarms every day, along with the
nabes back on a roll, simultaneously, and one time was definitely set
off by them, as they were talking to the FD and saying, as I told all
ready on a prior blog, This is bull crap, it is just smoldering
cigarette butts. I merely spelled all of the words correctly on this
dam blog, BRAH!
The
first two thirds of the year of 2008, in its own way was bigger than
the same time period in 1986, 22 years earlier. Studying my blogs or
archiving them at the website at BLOGGER, using this address:
http://drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
or http://theansweristheqyuestion.blogspot.com/
will
reveal powerful beyond wild and unfathomable shit. You can see how
the entire MENTALIST show was created from this blog, you can see
Jason Forrest's comment, accidentally posted in haste I suppose, on
my blog by him, saying how this blog, meaning MY BLOG, is where he
made a lot of money in Cali, to quote him exactly, and so much more.
The real power is two things this time, unlike in 1986. first, all of
the 1986 records are conveniently lost now, thanks to a wonderful
star family, and second, this is more of a recent group of events.
All of my original life journal on cassette tape is gone forever,
unlike my blogs posted at BLOGGER, as well as other websites for
bloggers, during these incredible times of cosmic proportions. Also,
unlike the first time, I know so much more than I did back then, more
things, more players in the cosmic colorful weaving system, and more
aware living witnesses to force in court if ever taken that far, that
will either tell some powerful truths under fucking ass oath, or
commit perjury to keep many gargantuan secrets. Just yesterday, as it
is now 5:55 AM-EDST, a very beautiful two minute period each and
every 24 hour cycle or 'day', on this April 25, 2013; I was playing
around with the WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE. For no reason about two
months or so ago, give or take a month, one day, I went to paste in
my blogs typed from my word office 3.1 system, and unlike before,
both Wordpress and Blogger sites, no longer pasted it in, as it
appeared on the office document, on my PC. However, the BLOGGER
software, compensates somehow, and places the format back into the
way I had it on my own PC Office System Program, or 3.1 Open Office.
I keep hoping for WORDPRESS to install the similar software, but I
have come to see their game. I think if I am willing to pony up a
nominal 25 dollar fee each year, not bad at all; they will give me a
real domain, so I plan to do this; as long as I can post up my songs,
my blogs, my photographs, and stuff the way I do at the Blogger site,
and have it all work; links, all of it. If this was $25 per month, I
could not afford it, but 2 dollars and change, per month is
reasonable enough for me to say yes, and agree to this 'dot me'
thing. Hay, like the fucking lady at 1101 Robin Hill Apartments, when
I was next door to her, in late 1983, and into 1984; at 1102
Apartment number; said to me through the door that afternoon early in
1984, “It's ME”, and later on, I had a powerful dream where she
forced me onto the roof of the building, and gave me excruciating
pain by some magical power, that blows me away every time to this
day, that I so much as remember that 'dream' for even a tiny little
fucking second. In the dream she again reiterated only slightly
varying her words spoken through my door in waking life or in this
universe; I AM A 'ME', and this wild shit was all written down in my
'so-called' fictional 1994 book, copyrighted in WASH-DOC-600-13,
called, “The Permission Barrier”. In waking life she said
something equally awesome and outlandish to me through my dam door.
She said I need to know something, and that if I do not open the
door, and let her come in and tell me; I will regret it for the rest
of my life. Is anyone reading this, seeing this word yet, 'WOW'?
A
very beautiful full moon is shinning out there above me, 99% full and
still waxing, becoming full at around noon today. I LOVE YOU
BEAUTIFUL LUNA, MY SPECIAL BABY BLOND, AND MY WONDERFUL AND AWSOME
LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA ARTEEMIS, AND
I'LL NEVER EVER LET YOU GO, NOT FOREVER AND FOREVER AND FOREVER, MY
ENDLESS LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 657 and 123, but does that
equal 1984 or 1983, or even the mighty all seeing Mister fiction book
author Orwell???????????????? Where does 'megawater' fit into this,
and for that matter the great 'SUNRAM'? This is what all came
flooding back to me, in early 1996, under intense psycho-therapy
hypnotism; at the Wolf Clinic, on Main Street, in Moorestown, NJ,
right next to REMOMAX. Wow, Mike Sotas. Bad news, you're no
competition with Super-Girl Keisha. So bring those fire engines
roaring, OTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE, WEEEEEEEEEEE.
Still with all of this said, the entire interaction of all of the
twine all over the world, creates the IF (Interaction Force), and
within that force, is the very gun powder that is needed to work the
magic of what I have spoken rarely about over nearly seven and a half
years of my blogging now, “REALITY-THREE”. We will get real deep
into Reality-3, very very soon.
Diana,
I saw your wonderful moon on the Jupiter Cam, all orange and lovely
and creamy-dreamy, my endless love. I am your little boy forever and
ever, baby-blond; and will be with you very soon, lovely one. IWALU,
BB (baby-blond)!!!!!!!!!!!!
That
was what it was before the WORST MOTHER FUCKING DAY OF 2013 CAME IN,
FRIDAY, it is now Saturday Morning at 25 minutes past mother fucking
midnight, electrical number three cubed, (27) April, 2013. Yesterday
was a major super fucking BOTBAR
DAY. Folks, I have a hell of a monster fucking
story to impart to you all today, and if you're not in the mood for a
really major talk with the Mountainpen here, move it over to the
''NEXT-BLOG'', I strongly urge you, but staying here will result in
some pillow talking from DAD, and many other things. They were
warned, and they did not care or they called my fucking bluff, or
'whatever', Congressman, but that old saying of Dawn-Marie King is
quite fitting here good peeps, “It is what it is”, and again, it
appears to be quite magically buried or cosmically perhaps, as this
contains the built in Goddess of Babylon, both and either one of
them, now or back then; my lovely wonderful and beautiful, who else;
ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK
people, here is what happened, and no one will believe it, and I am
typing it for my own record, not so that anyone anywhere will see it
and believe it. Shit all fucking mighty, if I were you and you were
me; I know I wouldn't believe it, so maybe that tells you to hit that
NB button now. This will get deeper than
your wildest fucking fantasies, sweet adorable Alice Vera Mel, not
greedy Fisher MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is nine minutes shy of one, and I will be calling 911 if this all
day long party, across the hall, does not stop. IT HAS BEEN DOORS,
DOORS, DOORS, SLAMMING ALL MOTHER FUCKING DAY LONG. I do not have to
take this after one in the mother fucking cunt lapping dick chewing
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!! Actually, it was
pretty quiet until 3 in the afternoon, then one by one, these evil
vile uncouth monster slobs, begin filing in; and by quarter past four
late yesterday afternoon, it was slam slam
bang, and still is, at one in the cunt eating morning. I
have a powerful feeling, the FUCKING CUNT POLICE WILL BE HERE, BEFORE
THE SUN RISES. I WILL NOT BE ABUSED THIS WAY, AND JUST SIT FUCKING
HERE AND EAT THIS FUCKING SHIT, FROM THESE FUCKING TWISTED DISEASED
MONSTERS, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They know the other
neighbor is away, my pal Stanley, or they would not make this much
cock licking fucking noise all day and night; but if only I
AM HERE, 1988 or no fucking 1988; PROPHET OF FUCKING
CUNT MCDONALD'S NOTHING; THEN I'LL GET ROYALLY AND TOTALLY FUCKING
ASS
SCREWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But if this day was just THIS HORRIBLE MONSTER OVER ACROSS THE
FUCKING HELL-HALL, WITH HIS DIRT BAG EVIL SCUM BAG PEEPS; I could
take it, but unfuckingfortunately for me; this is only a part of my
fucking hell on this beyond MONSTER ASS FUCKING DAY FROM HELL CUBED
CUBED CUBED AND CUBED, AND BEYOND ANY NORMAL ASS FUCKING CUNT LAPPING
B—O—T—B—A—R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Far
beyond seeing constant fucking CLOCK-ONES, and other constant
ONES-ATTACKS from Miss Dirtbag
Jane Sleazeweedsdisease BITCH, from 20 years ago, in fucking cunt
eating '93; I have dropped shit, injured myself, been attacked in all
possible ways including one of the worst health death ray beam
assaults ever, where I was on the toilet for hours; and I was one
fucked up shit head duck. I will tell you all something right now
before even getting really into the heart and the meat of yesterday's
beyond SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR
DAY: That fucking
rotten 1983 song has caused me a mountain top and an ocean basin of
trouble, that none of you out here have a clue about; as I know since
no one wants to go and listen to it, and I know because the count
never changes on my YT account, when I deduct my views and my link up
posts. Well, I will not say none, but maybe, and I mean MAYBE, it has
been hit 6-10 times, and I said and will reiterate again,
MAYBE!!!!!!!!!!!! As I speak, my twelfth
fucking MORTY MORTINO DEATH ANDROID attack is striking me on my
mother fucking cunt eating right side, the eleventh one was when I
was shortly into starting this blog, and I have no time to waste on
that dirt bag prick, reporting every visitation from this shit ass
buttwipe clown, YO YO YO YO!!! Here is the real fucking shit, and it
happened when I crashed out for the night around just past 2 AM on
Friday fucking ass morning, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
WAS TAKEN BACK TO PROVINCE ''WEIRD''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was
done totally against my will, as it was in late June of fucking pussy
huffing two thousand and dick eating eight. For those that may not
have a clue, this is a condition-interaction of the Astral-Plane, so
far away from the normal interactions of Province-Olympia, that no
words would be usable here, it would be the distance of about a
quintillion orbits around the hypersphere universe of ours while
we're awake on this so-called, “Physical-Plane”. Diana was with
me, and the LAMBRIGG CULT forced an unconditional surrender of myself
and my air-ship, the Ricktown-1,
and we went through a gigantic pipe like one of those municipal water
pipes, only about 50 miles in diameter, otherwise, appearing just
like one of them here in the fucking ass waking world, YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Diana was allowed to remain with me
for a while, then she was mysteriously made to vanish away, and they
tortured me beyond anything imaginable. The agony was like 1000 years
of someone stabbing your body all over, and you cannot bleed out and
die, or you do, and then you just instantly experience some bizarre
tissue and blood regeneration. This then happens over and over, and
the agony gets worse as the interaction of seeming-time passes in the
ongoing torment and torture. Now I know that this is real, what I am
now going to tell you, and nothing similar to this has happened to
fucking cunt me, since Christmas time, in the fucking year of 2007,
at my place of employment, the Cifaloglio Garage, near Folsom, New
Jersey, USAESMWG!!!
I
died of a fucking stroke
in 'my sleep' last night, it happened, and I totally fucking know
that this happened. The agony on the Astral-Plane
was somehow able to connect into my body here in waking ordinary
consciousness, to a sufficient level, so as to fucking
kill me,
and it was a stroke, and it was
fucking horrible.
Now
comes the wilder part, my good folks. I woke up and somehow crawled
to the hallway, and yelled for help, and was taken to the hospital;
where I was pronounced
fucking DEAD there.
Then I was asleep again; and this cycle went on and on for what
seemed as long as the fucking torture that caused it to happen in the
first fucking place. When I finally came out of this experience, I
jumped out of bed, tripped and fell, yelled, and ran for a light, any
fucking light, and I will not be able to sleep without a bright light
on for a very fucking cunt lapping long while, just like after my
fatal heart attack and other horrible shit from my early blogging
days of super SIEGE AND PUMMELING ATTACK FROM THIS LAMBRIGGER CULT OF
HELL ITSELF, NOTICE PLEASE, THAT I DID NOT SAY FROM
HELL.
I said OF HELL, and fuck you MICROSOFT, NOT ODF, screw your dam hack,
I am not in the mother fucking ass mood for that shit right about
now, YO!
You
do not need to know everything, but I will tell you all one thing,
DOROTHY GLINDASISTERTRAIL: NO I
DO NOT SURRENDER;
NOT AFTER THIS SIEGE AND DEATH-HELL ASSAULT, YOU MOTHER FUCKING
PIECES OF DIRTY ASS ROTTEN FUCKING MONKEY
CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, the real joke is that
you don't, and cannot ever, know half of what is going on, and if I
told, even though I am a certified fucking fruitcake; it would be
Chappaquiddick Bridge for me, and then McGuire would light up my
remains and I'd fucking glow for a day and a fucking ass half,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One thing this OZ-man can tell you, is that
Bluebook Warren and the rest of the WASH-DOCK gang from 13-600-ville,
are all clueless to a lot of shit that is right under their nose.
They all think they're all that up there in the capitol,
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, Dawn and DAD willya gimme a fucking bweak
there Mister cunt eating Elmer Fwudddddd?????????????? TANKS,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We are NOT playing with TIME TRAVELERS, just
travelers, and folks, you are saying to yourself right about now, no
doubt, what the fuck do you mean, and my response is that if you
need to say that after all this fucking ass Morianity; I cannot aid
you in just more mere fucking lingo made up of mere combinations of
alphabet letters. It won't work. This is what the gods know about
that
tongue shit,
they're not fucking talking about some real cool make out sessions,
YO!!!!!!!!!!! I have been fatally car crashed, struck dead by Diana,
poisoned with non-Mace-cans, shot, stabbed, crushed by a freight
train, chocked and strangled, and not crashed in a car to my death
once, but on several occasions; and something WON'T
FUCKING LET ME DIE,
yet if you came over and shot me; to your frame of reference, I would
be dead and forever gone, and so 'THAT', is the real fucking PROVINCE
WEIRD ROCKDROID EQUATION,
sir Rotten Berry, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No
aha-aha-aha tonight, Mike fucking cunt McNulty, old 1971 pal; just
not in the fucking ass mood. So sorry Mister 1941 Ambassador of
fucking cunt lapping JAPAN, huh lovely daughter PEE
K-------omicassi????????????????? My
life dwarfs the fucking SECOND WORLD WAR,
10 million times; or should I just keep my cuzz happy and say five
meeeyun? Cut
me 1, Marge Leo!
5555555555555555555555555555
For
more, just scroll, no need to fucking click on the margin, good
people, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
10:47
PM-EDST, 25 APRIL, 2013, THURSDAY NIGHT:
I
TOLD YOU GINA, THEY PICK THE FUCK ON ME, OVER AND
OVER, AND EVEN THOUGH THE DOW BEGAN TO
GO DOWN FOR A WHILE, THIS RECENT 10-15 DAYS OF SHIT ON ME, EVERY DAY,
WITH POUNDING, AND PUMMELING, AND PERSECUTION BY FILTHY FUCKING EVIL
NEIGHBORS; AND LOTS OF OTHER FUCKING SHIT; AND THE
DOW JONES GOES UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, DAY AFTER DAY, AFTER
DAY, AFTER DAY. A FUCKING TWISTED MORON LITTLE SNOTTY CHILD,
CAN SEE MY
WORDS ARE ALL FUCKING TRUE. WHERE IS THE WONDERFUL
ATTORNEY GENERAL WHEN I NEED HER, OH GREAT
PRESIDENT-O???????????? THIS IS WHY PEEPS
REACH THAT MAGIC BOILING POINT, I NEVER WILL, BUT THIS IS
WHY THESE INCIDENTS WILL NOT STOP
HAPPENING, AS IT JUST GETS ENDLESSLY MOTHER FUCKING WHITE WASHED, AND
COVERED UP, BY POWERFUL 'PENTAGON FUCKING ALIENS', OR 'WHATEVER' BODY
SNATCHING EXPLORATRONIC SHIT IS REALLY
GOING FUCKING ON, AND DON'T LET CLARINET
PLAYER, PLAYER BILL, BULLSHIT US. HE
KNOWS THE ENTIRE FUCKING MESS, AND HAS TO SHUT UP ON PAIN
OF DEATH; HIS AND THE ENTIRE FAM. FOLKS, QUIT BEING SO FUCKING naïve
AND STUPID, AND 'MICROSOFT I-N-SIS-TS ON SPELLING' naïve IN SMALLS,
I AM NOT DOING THIS, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I DID THE OTHER CUTE ASS LITTLE
THING AFTERWARD, WHAAAAAA, MMCN!
I
am one angry mother fucker about a lifetime of mother fucking endless
cock sucking MAJOR PERSECUTION, good
freaking folks out here, and all my loyal MORIANS, YO YO!! So quit
bouncing me around Mister McDonald and Mister Vandegrift, kind sirs,
and stop with the super echo already on the fucking car ads. You're
not a Donna Summer 1979 fucking disco,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeese fucking cunt Louise, and
W---O---W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAA!
EVERY
MOTHER FUCKING COCK EATING DAY, these noisy dirt bag neighbors ARE
DRIVING ME NUTS AT THE FUCKING SPEED OF LIGHT CUBED, PUBLIC HOUSING
ASS AUTHORITY, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ALL MIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!
This
is totally REDICULOUS, MACK KAITER of Northeast freaking ass Maryland
of 1967. Cut me a break, Margie Leo!
What
some may wish to be made aware of who read Morianity, is
thisssssssssss, Miss Erica Lucci snakes of 1983,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! If you were the only one alive on
this Earth, pretend you are lost and leaving endless bread crumbs
behind you, only instead of breadcrumbs, it is an endless ball of
thin colorful twine. Now as time passes, and you move all around, in
and out of buildings and homes and down streets and into all kinds of
places, this past record will follow behind you. Now bringing the
cold reality back, we are not alone, and so our fellow creatures also
do this very same thing, and also are leaving this endless twine
string behind them no matter where they go, and when, forever and
always. Now instead of 20 or so basic prime and second colors,
pretend we have sight capable of focusing at solar surface
brilliance, so billions of separate coloring shades would now be
possible. Each one would have their own unique color. Now imagine the
interaction of all of us, not us, but this twine after a week, after
a month, a year, 5, 10, and so on. Now take shit one more step still
good folks. Remove the US, just see this endless intertwining weaving
cosmic interaction. Now, you are ready to be told, that this is what
produces a force called the IF, and NOT the fucking other way around,
ladies and gentlemen, and whoever else is out here, so say it, YO;
WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So where are my trucks, TD?
Every
day this week and last week, my nabes love to shout and bang doors,
and are around a lot more recently than they were for a while. It
takes me time, but I get used to these butt wipes, not that it ever
will be a day at the beach, and not that my days at the beach are
anything too far removed from rotten and hellish, here with the
robbery last year, and back in fucking Atlantic City, with everything
from giant girl gang attacks to just you name it and was more like
what wasn't fucking around with me, in that totally fucking
miserable, and rotten place?
My
health and bowels were stuck while sleeping. I will shit my guts out
soon, and then take some Metamucil meds to compensate for the
MILITUFORCE overnight attack. These scum
blew up my airship while I was what all of you call, DREAMING. I
wanted to blow them up and then come onto the mortal world, clocked
in and invisible; and strike enemy targets here, as I do quite often.
When upon occasion my cloak of invisibility dicks out, you have all
seen me from time to time, along with others of us from the Astral
Plane. Diana told me she wants me to say something on my blogs, so I
will, before this is all typed up, as I never disobey my wonderful
beautiful GODDESS. The dirt bag enemies have me running around in
circles like a blind and decapitated mother fucking chicken, these
recent fucking days. As a result, I did not say all I wanted to on my
previous blog, M5, CH. 00053. So 54 will now do the talking for me.
It is a nice 79 degrees right now in good old fucking cock sucking
Port Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG. (United States of America-Planet
Earth, System of Sol, Milky Way Galaxy). It has been only low
eighties each day, so there's one rotten ass fucking plus out of
things at least, Warner Brothers, WHAAAAAAA!
Well
no, that's not all folks, and how we all loved their great cartoons
as kids, but it seems that many have decided in the new generation
X-Y-Z or in this range, that growing up, and even growing normally in
time with grace, is some kind of new age sin, with this very demented
and delusional mindset, owned and patented by the Hollywood MIND
CONTROLLERS, of forever young or else Briggbase Cultists, and the
Mortal World (MW) has their own name for this waking world cult. I
loved my time, and most like me who refuse to use a cell phone, or
join this Third Millennium, simply fade away, and don't. Well, I AM
ALREADY in a condition-interaction where HELL swallows up any
possibility of RELEASE or DEATH, so LSS, the quintessential rock and
hard place, places me just south of the rock, and natch, just north
of the hard place. This is one hell of a proverbial mother fucking
squeeze, folks. But let us move along now with yesterday after I left
the apartment to do a little bit of freaking shopping. I mistakenly
said things reversed, so sorry, Mister Ambassador Bombpearl of 1941.
Let me finish up the old topic with the fact that this illegal scum
ball is back living here across from me, and with that snubby ugly
woman, and her totally evil nasty, and raised by total pigs dude; who
cares zero for disturbing his closest fucking neighbor, ME,
Amanda!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was punished for
trying to get help from the Dell guy, not the Dell “gut”, typo
sorry, the keys are together on the keyboard, you know, the 'Y' and
the 'T', then the West side Fort Pierce Library back eight days ago,
and it is every and any time that I ever try and do anything,
especially music related. It is not TD or rocket science or the
President of the Wow-Truck Refusals Club, just as the TV ad spot
says, good common ass sense, YO. Music for some of the lucky folks,
makes enormous amounts of money, and the chosen to be cursed
HUNTINGTON, say it again gorgeous little Amanda, is not permitted to
ever have ANYTHING AT ALL, to keep perpetuating this 'family game',
as it goes back more than ten fucking thousand years, and before
that; only the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE;
really knows in full detail. The three times that I was about to
break out of this lack
of money curse, I was nearly killed twice physically,
1977 at the Mars Graphics Print Shop in Westville, New Jersey,
USAESMWG, and in 1983, making money playing roulette in Atlantic
City, at the casinos. First my heart, then my throat. Then separated
again by increments of three in years, single blocks or double, as in
1977, 1983, and 1986, and as you can see here, there is a strange
three year run, beginning in 1977; but yes, we cannot ever forget or
ignore the DANGER-THIRD LAKE, AKA HB in
my speculation, but not remembering that road trip up there with my
Great Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald, and her two grandchildren,
Christopher and Scotty Meyers, on the day of the dog-walking, and
other things, huh Re-max Reality; but speaking of all of this, we
also cannot forget or ignore, good old wonderful
lovely sarcastic 1986, AHA AHA AHA AHA MMCN!!!!! This is when
I could make all the money I wanted to at the casinos, and again, was
punished and stopped; and just how was this done? did anyone ever
really wonder why these shadows came to dwell in the bright daylight?
I will tell you, but first folks, here is yesterday, now written
today, on the diary of Beaver Cleaver-2, AKA Morianity-Part-5, with
no stray cats, no school, and to keep lovely Diana Brewster happy,
“No nothing”. Does this meet with your all mighty highness
approval, oh great owner of the world, Oprah Lose Bond?
I
went to the 'Good Will' and then to the 'Publix' stores, not the
other way around. Why would I, as the ice cream would melt if I did
not get that last, like DUH and color me anything you want, and don't
be my buddy, ANN. See if I care, or even get arrested over it,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It was upon coming out of the Publix Grocery Store
at the mini-mall at Virginia and Route 1, that that same aircraft
that has dogged me since this all began in 1986, the very exact same
one, was up there while I was putting my grocery bags into my
vehicle. It used to circle and orbit, literally orbit my Blue Anchor
home on summer months, all mother fucking day long. It is way up in
the sky and it makes the loudest mother fucking cunt lapping noise
you could possibly ever fucking imagine. They let you know, “Boy
are we fucking watching you, ya little fucking jit bag prick”,
there really is no mistake in their signal, right ADS? When I got
home, the apartment was quieter, the main noise at least over the
past ten days or so now is from 9 in the morning through 6 in the
evening. Then it gets better from 6P through 9A. Oh well, let the
quieter quitter bay-fish, move this right along here and do some
clutch work, or else; grind grind grind, without any 1994 beaches, or
joining outlandish bizarre swimming clubs on 27 June, or other
paranormal paraphernalia such as AEB's, right Mister Prosecutor, Ron
Wirtz, my old pal????????????????????????????? Ron, kind sir, to this
day, I wonder why I do not smash that thing down hard and get it all
over with for all of us. Well, no favors for this human race. That
would be way too good for them after all they've fucking ass done to
me, no favors, baby-love, NONE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
yesterday was another thing that never got mentioned. It was my PCNLD
or (Private Cosmicoded Number Lottery Day). This is twice that the
Florida 3-Pick Lottery, matched my PCN of '871', and I thought for
sure by now that CUZZ DON's number would pop in, also Frank Callio's,
also MC's, after-all, there are only 81 PCN's folks, and nearly four
million peeps in America have each one of them, simple math folks, 81
times four-mill is equal to the rough guess US Census counted
population in the 2010 count, WHAAAA! Well without any weed sucking,
or changing places, or role reversals, or audience competing; let me
move this along and quit with the dam tangents already, yikes, YO!
Now do you see why my kid scares me to death, Pam? I know what she is
capable of, and I am just trying now to appease her wrath until my 18
and out. I see this human life of mine as none other than a total
fucking prison sentence, and make no bones about it, nor do I act shy
about printing it up publicly, Mister Graham, 'TEE HEE HEE', oh
Lilly. Where Are You When I Need You, ED, not you, Mister Himacane
Lynch?
Oh
yes, WAYWINY, and then in past tents, it would become, where were you
when I needed you, right Sam Walton, another December 7, 1941 day for
me, President Roosevelt. These initials change into WWYWINY, and need
and needed both start with the 'N' word, no, not that ugly other 'N'
word. You have no idea what fight I would have put up for custody of
you, MI, if I had known, but two moms conspiring against it, forget
it. Where was all your role reversal stuff when it might have done
the most good, I could ask you, oh great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, my
endless wonderful Goddess?
Well,
it is now in the eighties officially, at 2:09, according to the
channel-12 app on my computer. At least it is nothing like the past
couple of years where by the end of April it was either high eighties
or into the nineties by 12-3 in the afternoon, every dam day. Folks
forget stuff, I do not know how they live so controlled and so
totally ETOSS-HACKED. When I get the occasional hit by these pricks,
I remember those times and can count them on both my hands and that
is it, and it always something that pertains to my great swimmer
daughter. I still was scared she was going to drown, but learned some
really powerful lessons in the process, me that is, not her. She is
all mighty, and needs not learn anything, other than my brain is a
worthless pile of junk circuits, confusing the address of the
Philadelphia Zoo, with where the great Manhattan ES Building is. It
is on 34th Street, but not Poplar. What's happening to my
nutty mind, Mayor Nutter, and little girl on the TV ad, WHAAAAA? No
one knows how real it is to be ETTOS attacked by this powerful
family. The day McGuire leaves us all in peace, I will be out surf
and turfing, if I have to borrow the money from the dam mob. That's a
promise, lovely Re-max Mo, and WOMO as well, Karen Simons. Thanks,
traitor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. No, I won't brand you, for
old times sake. Laugh time, McNulty!
The
last really bad 4 days went as follows on my systems-roulette by the
way, good folks. Yesterday I made 7 units. The three other recent bad
days were plus 4, plus 1, and plus 5 and a half, TEE HEE HEE, MZ.
MUNSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to hate your old pal too much,
Congressman Andrews, and remember the good times YO, in 1975, even
the time you refused to give me a lift home that evening after 9 P,
down at Pileggi's basement, or 'whatever'. You had the coolest
stereo, and the coolest girl, Angel. Was she perfect or more like my
daughter?
Hay
Gawky Gaukauk, here kitty, why has the fucking dick licking
persecution over the past ten days or so gotten so bad again with my
across the fucking hallway nabes, YO YO YO??????????????????????????
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW,
SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-682.
TALL
GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH----PROJECT
BLUEBOOK----CANCER----QUEENS----MOVING----THE MORNING
LIGHT----BEAVER----PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING
MACHINE----TWENTY------------------------------
HAY
GAWKY GAUKAUK, HERE KITTY, ALL THREE TIMES IN MY LIFE, IN 1977, 1983,
AND 1986, WHEN I TRIED TO MAKE A LITTLE MORE MONEY THAN IN OTHER
TIMES EVER IN MY LIFE, AND SUCCEEDED, I WAS ASSAULTED TWICE
PHYSICALLY TO THE NEAR POINT OF DEATH, AND THE FINAL TIME, THE DEATH
OF MY ENTIRE LIFE RESULTED AND HAS BEEN THE CASE EVER FUCKING SINCE
THAT TIME IN 1986?
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW,
SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-853.
1954----36th
avenue----stingray-------------
LIKE
FUCKING W----O----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Holy Hannah-88, can I please be forgiven for my last fucking lifetime
folks? Thank fucking you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is
Herbert Huntington, Ancestry dot com, crissake YO, please do not
darken my shadowy dark doorstep ever again; and no more hunting
trips for your dam son and his pal McGee's pop.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!! Double-triple
fucking WOW, YO.
As
always, we could dance all night, and I could talk all day, but no
new fucking songs pweeeeeeeze. The current one has me in enough hot
water to put the water-heater peeps permanently out of fucking ass
business, YO County Jail caller. Yes MC, I did re-listen, before your
5th
cuzz 3 times removed, stole the CD, and all your stuff from my
bedroom. I know the horrible stuff you were letting me see, and
thanks for not offing me. I make you the very same promise now, I
made to Sarah Callio, your 4th-7TR. I will as of this blog, leave you
entirely out of this. I always loved that wild show with the two
continuum's, and how the dude killed himself. That was talent, girl.
Well, I'll keep my promise to you. Also, in return, you keep the
chain, and no more dreams; not ever, do we have a deal oh great Sarah
Krassle??????????????? Only we know what's getting said here, the old
shark knows what you tried to tell me. I always loved those kind of
sci-fi shows, only this time it's my real life, and that really
sucks.
You
enjoy your great VR-GAME, it belongs to you, and I had no
right to ever try and expose its truths, or yours; just don't make me
swim down to the weeds forever, please, my great GODDESS QUEEN, thank
you. Ask your CUZZ SARAH if I kept my promise, other than for
the one quick time, when I just wanted to show the great
artist Billy Harner, her water company.
555555555555555555555555555
Ok
good people, a little bit more before I close out. Sorry about the
profanity the past few days, today I am not in such a super ugly
mood, and because I was not totally viciously persecuted as badly,
like DUH, Hyundai-2006!!!
I
was able to make a nice four unit profit on that horrendous freaking
BOTBAR of Friday the twenty-sixth day of April, on my
systems-roulette. Also food people, TEE-HEE-HEE Lilly Munster; I did
speak to my wonderful awesome special kitty cat, GAGA,
MEOW, interesting how this accepted term of cat-speech is
meow, as in ME, OWL, you know, HAY, I AM BEING HURT, but then,
American Appliances does sell great stuff, and that refrigerator in
1986 that caused me t nearly cut off my hand back at 1931 Marlton
Pike (Route-70), in Cherry Hill, New Jersey; is a lot more part of a
lot of music than some may ever get to realize, as I cannot tell, or
I'll get the crap knocked out of me in my sleep by gorgeous wonderful
Isiscylla. I did not know you knew about my toes, only my fall in the
street, and that GAGA, was really an OWL or an OUCH, depending on how
the deal goes, WHAAAAAA!
The
two queries to my cat on that horrific freaking BOTBAR DAY, were as
freaking follows, ladies and gentlemen, and any other entities out
here, AHA-AHA-AHA-MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!
HAY
GAGA, AFTER A SHORT RECENT TURN-DOWN IN THE STOCK MARKET FOR ABOUT
TWO WEEKS, WHY IS IT SUDDENLY SHARPLY TURNING BACK UP AGAIN, YO?
MEOW-MEOW-MARKEY-SHARKEY—PCN-462—TRANSLATION:
FRED
WINDSTEIN----TAPE----WAVE----ALL RANDOMS HAVE
PATTERNS-------------------------------------------------
HAY
GAGA, WHAT WAS BEHIND THIS INCREDIBLE WORSE THAN EVER SIEGE AND
ATTACK SHORTLY AFTER 4 PM TODAY, BY MY DIRT BAG BOTTOM FEEDER PIG
NABES ACROSS THE HALLWAY FROM ME, YO?
MEOW-MEOW-MARKEY-SHARKEY—PCN-927—TRANSLATION:
CHRISTMAS----PAULA
KING----LIFEGUARD----DAVID ROTH----DREW CAREY----CORAL
REEF----MANHATTAN-----
END
TRANSMISSION FOR NOW, FOLKS........
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