************MORIANITY
PART FIVE************
I
HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS CHAPTER
NUMBER 00053.
Sharkey
says, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
12:57
PM, 23 APRIL, 2013, TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Let
me begin where things left off yesterday on the twenty-second. Looks
like the 2010 'dream' with the 20 and the 2 deal makes a little
sense, one of biblical Daniel's messages perhaps on how the digits in
the number end, given on the previous blog about how many PAU's
separate the two registrations as was described and explained about,
just see the last blog, or better still, I will reiterate quickly, if
you wish to skip, then skip and scroll, YO, WHAAAAAAAA! You won't
hurt Sharkey Delaney's feelings, crossed over or not. Whaju say on
Atrium Way, Bank of Toronto (TD) W-O-W? Doors here are going all
morning, like last morning, same old shit here, good wonderful folks
reading these turds.
Public Catalog |
|
Search
Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
|
|
Search
Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.
|
OR
BETTER STILL, DON'T, WHAAAAAAA.
So
back to the errands and now that you have read below, only now it is
above, (STM) you know, all that science bullnoncarp of typos, we can
continue on with the blog here. Well, hopefully these are all nice
fishermen we see out there at Jupiter Jetty, not real greedy ones,
still, the lyrics of “YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER” are as follows if you ever care to
click and sing along with the harmony track, until I get this dam
thing done sometime this frikkin millennium. Yes folks, the crazy
cursing dude holding his ears, somebody must have finked on me over
at the recording studio around 1980, who knows, maybe Diane Barton,
Gerry Patterson, Mashell Daniels, Donald Cialoni, Mike Walters, who
can ever know, maybe Jason Forrest happened to coincidentally get
THAT ONE RIGHT, huh daughter, even though Bruce Pennock taught me
well, and I guess after that, I taught it to you, but you still are
my perfect angel, or really, my Goddess SSJKK. Still, how can I have
mixed up the PIMC, mentally seeing
lovely mom in my mind again I suppose, under the Central Pier, and
then reversing the middle initials, did I say the MIDDLE
INITIALS?
Like frikkin WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Talk about Space Time Mind (STM) at work; this is a
precise
example, folks!
YEAH,
SOME 'DREAM'
PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A TIME TRIP 31 DAYS INTO THE FUTURE, AND
HALLOWEEN DAY 2 BOOT!
COPYRIGHT
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983 ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE
THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF
“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.
I
WAS PUNISHED FOR POSTING CHAPTER 50, GOOD FOLKS, BIG ASS TIME. I HAD
AN ELECTRICAL POWER OUTAGE THIS MORNING FOR AN HOUR THAT FUCKED UP MY
“LAW AND ORDER” TELEVISION SHOW, AND SCREWED UP MY CLOCKS AND
WOKE ME FROM SLEEP, AND DOORS ARE SLAMMING BY THIS ILLEGAL DIRT BAG
WHO I WAS TOLD IS NOT LEGALLY PERMITTED ON THESE PREMISES, ONLY WE
ALL KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY FOLKS WHO THUMB THEIR MOTHER FUCKING
NOSE AT RULES AND LAWS, AND FLATTEN PEOPLE'S TIRES, DO ALL MANNER OF
PROPERTY DAMAGE, AND MAKE A HOBBY IF NOT A FULL TIME OCCUPATION OUT
OF WICKEDLY
FUCKING DESTROYING OTHER PEOPLE'S ENTIRE LIVES,
YEAR AFTER YEAR. THE POWER BEHIND THIS EVIL, LAYS IN ONLY ONE PLACE
ON THIS ENTIRE MOTHER FUCKING GLOBE, AND THAT IS ATLANTIC CITY, NEW
JERSEY, HACKED OR NOT, ETTOS OR NON ETTOS HIT, DE GAMA MCGUIRE, YOU
PILE OF BIOLOGICAL PURE WASTE AND SCUM.
First,
the entire province whose name was wild but that I can bring no part
of that back into waking world reality with me no matter how hard I
try, but then what’s in a name so we’ll just 4 blog’s-sake call
this place, Province-W, or shortened 2 “PW”, and the W is 4
“weird”. PW is a place I do not wish 2 ever revisit, unless
Mariah
herself or SSJKK-PIMC, the MI standing 4 PRESENT-INCARNATION,
was right there with me 2 protect me as opposed 2 causing this
misery. First the entire province of PW acts almost as VI, it all
interacts in its own combined oneness when invaders from neighboring
provinces R concerned anyway. PW instantly turned into a gargantuan
sized BRIGGBASE, and was countless times greater and mightier and
huger than the Briggbase that exists in the Province Olympia or the
OP. Instantly, Diana and I began 2 try and run or fly all over but no
matter where we went, giant US Military-type aircraft began following
and stalking us at very low and deafening levels, and then as well,
so did loud beyond descriptiveness military wall shaking helicopters.
THE
ONLY PROBLEM IS THAT IN 2008, THERE WAS 'NO ME YET', THAT PUT
TOGETHER THE OPENING ON THE MASTER OPEN REEL TAPE ON THE 1986 SONG
CALLED, “REAL GOOD GIRL”. THIS WAS NOT TO FOLLOW FOR A SOLID YEAR
AT THE CIFALOGLIO GARAGE, IN MY CAR WORKING SECURITY DUTY. WHAT IS
NOT ON BLOGGER, IS ON WORDPRESS, REMEMBER I HAD A BLOG-HACK FOR ONE
SOLID MONTH AT BLOGGER IN 2009, I BELIEVE IT WAS IN JULY, BUT WAS ONE
OF THE TWO FULL SUMMER MONTHS. I HAD PLAYED A CASSETTE TAPE IN MY CAR
PLAYER, BY ACCIDENT, FORGETTING TO EJECT IT WHILE TAKING CARE OF
BUSINESS, AND IT WENT ONTO AN AUTO-REVERSE SIDE, WHERE A DIFFERENT
VERSION THAT I RARELY LISTENED TO, WAS, THAT HAD ME ON A KARAOKE
MACHINE SINGING OVER MY ONW TRACK OF PREVIOUSLY RECORDED FROM 1986,
'REAL GOOD GIRL'. THIS IS HOW ALL THAT 'MI' STUFF ALL GOT STARTED,
ONLY THIS WEAS A FULL YEAR BACK IN TIME, ALISAN
GRACE OF LAW & ORDER, YOU KNOW, THE 2000 EPISODE THAT TALKED
ABOUT WHAT WOULD HAPPEN A YEAR IN THE FUTURE,
THE EPISODE WITH THE LOVE YOURSELF CULT AND THE BOMB EXPLOSION IN THE
CHOPPER, I THINK IT WAS EPISODE NUMBER WHAT ELSE, MIZZ KARGE, 18, IN
2000. But if you wanna' really get into stuff, how did they possibly
know about Mayor Levy, the Jersey mayor and the hero medals, several
years ahead of time, if this entire clan and bunch of LAMBRIGGER
CULTISTS OF THE ASTRAOL-PLANE, are not able to manipulate the STM,
and through none other than this entire group being part of the
EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND???????????????
Well,
enough said for now about the BEEGEE's ripoff and my copyrights, and
the L&O TRAVELERS, and things that have no possible rational
explanation, other than for exactly what they appear to be on the
surface, Doctor Bruce Goldberg, REAL HONEST FUCKING TIME TRAVEL, YO
YO YO YO, OH BAD-BOY-BOO. Ya' still in jail, buddy, say hi to Dave
and Warren. Maybe Dave would not be in his situation right now if he
had listened to Deezy Slim, and not hatred me and tried to hurt me
back in early fucking eleven, YO!
Now
my poor mother was murdered in a horrible way, ladies and gentlemen,
in her sleep, turned into a Frankenstein zombie, and this is all
true, and remains to this mother freaking day, the best covered up
secret in the Camden county coroner's Office, in New puke swallowing
Jersey. I am angry because my dirt ball illegal nabe slamming scumbag
bottom feeder is here today slamming slamming slamming, and I cannot
do a thing about it other than hope I have the balls some day to call
911 every time it happens at 2 and 3 in the morning, as enough after
hours complaints, and something will explode around here, don't get
all up set, Tom ridge, I am speaking totally figuratively,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am working with some people that quite naturally I'm not willing to
further tell about, in proving this, and in fact, of having two
bodies exhumed out of the Earth, both in the state of good old
PENNSYLVANIA. My mother, and David roth are the two persons of whom I
frikkin speak, they both were savagely murdered by the ILLUMINATI,
the BRIGGBASE RESIDENTS of the spirit world, here in a collective
human organized club of waking fleshly lives. I know this sounds
nuts, and don't be all surfuckingprised when my body is found turned
up piecemeal in a dumpster in the hood of West Miami someplace. This
is not funny, and I know more than any of you fucking diseased
twisted EW peeps dare to believe that I know, but you're scared, or
else you wouldn't have cut off my BonJovi place, and also would not
be interfering with such a vengeance, with my YBCO tune, it proves to
fucking much, and we all fucking know it, huh Ann Notmybuddy King.
Tell your daughter to rise and then drop and give me 20 SB,
WHAAAAAAAAAABIT!!!!!!!!
PLEASE
DON'T LET THESE ARROGANT PIGS LIKE TRUMP AND MY FAMILY ALL WIN AND
GET AWAY WITH MY MURDER ALSO, LOVELY FLORIDA ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI,
P-----L-----E-----A-----S-----E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lots
of folks do not take my hellish nightmare tale of woe seriously no
matter how much evidence I ever post up here to the world, all just a
big ass fat joke. Well, when I am all dead and murdered, this is when
the hugest trial since forever will be going on, making Watergate and
fucking OJS look like a greenie pukie in comparison, next to this.
THAT,
gorgeous
Re-max-Mo, is a total PROMISE, SWEETIE!!!!!!!!!!!
**END
OF THIS TRANNY, OL' GRANNY, M-5, CH. 00053**
No comments:
Post a Comment