MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER LVI, KING NEBNOOSHOO MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS

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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 EVUIL 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 ISIS-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 FUYCKING CHRIST ALL MIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!

This is totally REDICULOUS, MACK KAITER of Northeast freaking ass Maryland of 1967, cut me a break Margie Leo!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCC:

OPEN COMMAND ON MY VOICE PRINT PLEASE,

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, YOU WILL HEAR THE A/B TONES ON LONG VOWEL SOUND EEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

GO TO ALL ORDERS AND ALL TECKS, UNDER A MAJOR FUCKING PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, 'A' TO 'B', HERE WE GO MAGGIE NOT MAY, RODNEY-71, YO, AND EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, AND S-T-O-P!

Holy fucking ass Toledo, pillow talking Daddy. If this shit does not FUCKING CUNT BACK THE FUCKING SHIT OFF OF ME, SOMEBODY OUT FUCKING HERE, YO YO YO YO YO, I AM GOING TO TELL EVERYTHING ABOUT THE BATTLESHIP ELDRIDGE AND EINSTEIN AND MY CUNT EATING FATHER, ALL OF IT, NOTHING LEFT OUT, THE WHOLE FUCKING SMACK, NASA ASTRONAUTS, SO THERE, YO HAVE BEEN SOMEWHAT FUCKING POLITELY INFORMED, TOMMY ROE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, IGNORE THIS AT YOUR OWN PERILL, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NOW TWERMINATE THIS TWANSMISSION, MISTER WARNER AND MISTER WARNER, WHAAAAAAAAAA-BIT!!!!!!!

NIGHTY NIGHT EVERYONE, AND I HAVE THE 'AEB', YO.

This cunt lapping 'cunt phlegm rapes' (compensates) for fucking ass eleven eleven on the computer fucking clock, you son of a dam ass bitch rotten unlucky minus seven!!!!!

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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

ABSOLUTE NEWEST UPDATED MORIANITY PART FIVE, ADDITION AT END OF BLOGS:

I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED READING THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 56.

SHARKEY SAYS: I will not be vulgar enough to spit this out, but I'll say, bite me WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, or I will most definitely play Roseann Delaney with all of you, HEE HEE!

ABSOLUTE NEWEST UPDATED MORIANITY PART FIVE, ADDITION AT END OF BLOGS:

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 00056. Tonight 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 NEW VIEWERS.

THIS IS MORIANITY, PART FIVE. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY.

I talk a lot about my copyrighted music, so here it is, folks.

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

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Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
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Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

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Help Search History Titles Start Over

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Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
All on Page Selected On Page Selected all Pages	Enter your email address:

Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

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Help Search History Titles Start Over

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WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO?

WWYWINY, MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

Jupiter, Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU HAVE READ LOTS OF MORIANITY PART 5,

AND I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00056.

YOU ARE READING MORIANITY, PART 5, GOOD FOLKS, CHAPTER NUMBER -------------------------------------------------- 00056. I do not think this blog will be enjoyed, but I needed to get shit off my chest, and it beats throwing a hand grenade, I vent by blogging, so thank you Chris Bennett, YO! WAYWINY, lovely Diana, my baby-blond Lightning Goddess???????????

BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.

MY LOVE FOR YOU IS ENDLESS, LOVELY BABY-BLOND. NOW WE ALL CAN SEE YOU ONE NIGHT IN ARIZONA, THANX.

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I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,

I DEMAND MY FREAKING PROPS.

HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 26 April.

Home | County News | News Videos | Photo Gallery | Directions | Calendar | A - Z | Contact Search Site: Health Social Services Recreation & Leisure Public Safety County Government Planning & Infrastructure Financial Assistance Education & Employment EGG HARBOR CITY'S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING'S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!

***MORIANITY PART FIVE***

A child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube site, that will NOT be gone forever very shortly. Not after that threat I took over at the FORT PIERCE WEST LIBRARY, 9 DAYS AGO, BRO, YO!

http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/

THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART FIVE:

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My blogs

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
• Morianity Foundation
• The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version
• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

About me

Gender	Male
Industry	Non-Profit
Occupation	paranormal researcher
Location	Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction	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.
Interests	I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies	all old movies
Favorite Music	most old music
Favorite Books	The Winds Of War, Gone With The Wind, Time Travelers From Our Future

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.

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.

You may skip through this by scrolling, any time, folks.

December 12, 2006

More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.

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:

Interdimensional Technology (MP3)    Android & Angel (MP3)    12th Planet (MP3)

If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U? M-Pen.

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean.

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**W-Map, courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida TV.**

Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

Advisory Colors Key
	Winter Storm Watch
	Flood Warning
	Non-Precipitation Advisory
	Flood Statement

A beautiful shot of LUNA, also known as the moon, and 'Goddess Diana', by the Romans.

She is real folks, you will see when you're dead!

**END OF THIS TRANNY, OL' GRANNY, M-5, CH. 00053**

“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. No magic Leprechaun linking, sorry.

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

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. Technology, huh???

To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO. If you do not like techno-pop music of the early and middle nineteen-eighties, there are other songs at the same site, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so go there and have a blast.

Without clicking, yesterdays can just be scroll viewed!

Folks, I have no time to tell you the whole thing, it would take a hundred mother fucking years, and when all is said and done and your great grand kids finish reading it, they and you, won't give a hoot pollute blasted dam anyway, who's kidding who? Still, I will say a few quick things, and no force on this Earth is going to fucking stop me from that.

First, a few hours ago, I was cooking a fucking steak and spaghetti meal in my kitchen, when the IF scumbags thought pulling a cute little Leprechaun prank on me would be nice and Roseann Delaney fucking funny, the mother fucking rotten bastards!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A small roach appeared near an opened can of spaghetti sauce. This was simply to get me to reach over to kill this menacing germy little shit, forgetting about the can with a half opened up lid; and 'shazam', Gomer Pyle USMC, and 'goollllleeey', Sargent fucking cunt Carter, Mary Paints McVeigh; if I did not practically take my cunt eating left index finger right off. Go away, Roseann Tressa Backtowork Minicoffin Nightmares! But those that know about the American Appliances Refrigerators back when this entire August 15, 1986 thing all got started, also know that I cut all of my toes off at Mars graphics Printing Shop in 1977, and in two months, they all grew back. I thought all toes grew back, and was told later by some dick head, it was a miracle and I should tell the Vatican. Bullshit on the Vatican, enough fucking cock suckers are watching me like hawks and buzzards, huh Apollo-Lucifer and lovely sister D?

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?

It is 4:40 AM-EDST, 25 April, 2013, on Thursday morning.

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 tales 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)!!!!!!!!!!!!

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 34^th 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----36^th 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 5^th 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

THAT FUCKING COMPENSATES FOR THAT GOD DAM PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN BULL FUCKING SHIT. LET ME NOW TYPE BIG, AND WASTE THE PAGE; SORT OF LIKE IN FUCKING JESSICA'S GREAT FOOTBALL GAMES. I NEED TO RUN OUT THE DAM CLOCK NOW, OR ELSE I WILL BE STARING AT THESE FOUR FUCKING ONE NUMBERS FOREVER, AND THAT TOTALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOOD RIDDANCE, YO, AND AGAIN GOOD FOLKS, WEEEEEEEEEE. 55555555555555555!!!!!!

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.

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

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.

To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO. If you do not like techno-pop music of the early and middle nineteen-eighties, there are other songs at the same site, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so go there and have a blast. WHAAAAAAAA.