Friday, June 21, 2013

MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 00109, SILLWEE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT






12:10 AM-EDST, SATURDAY, 22 JUNE, 2013



BEGINNING TRANSMISSION FROM FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES, EARTH, SOL, MW GALAXY





MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 00109, DUH-ISNEY HYUNDAI



For two fucking straight nasty ass days, I have been messed with by my miserable WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









For the past three or four days now, the illegal jerk off is back, the one who slams the doors a lot and goes in and out of many of the apartments all around me. The problem for me is that there are no fucking peep holes to try and look through in this building. Resident manager DM tells me to be nosy and see who and what is happening, but I don't need more fucking flat tires, and other persecutions from these low life mother fucking bottom feeding swine lappers. If I open one door, there is a second door right there. It is the weirdest fucking set up in the world, trumped only maybe, by the Flower Wing of the Ricktown Manor in Province Olympia's great Ricktown, in PHASE-2-REALITY or the (Astral-Plane). I have been renting the structure that lays beyond this long corridor of unimaginable length, to the original family from hell, and again, as bible verses love to teach so often, and I will quote them exactly, “As above, so below”. Only a handful of folks who read the information that was printed up on the now defunct “Morianity-Foundation” website, have a tiny clue what is going on, and has been since around the time of the greedy fisherman song, or said perhaps better, since I redid some lyrics on a tune I wrote in the late springtime somewhere back in fucking ass 1983, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NA!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, those unforgettable Mountainpen SAGA'S, say it Daddy and Dawny, “SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, MAKE MY FUCKING DAY, EMPTY CHAIR CLINT. WOW!!!















Lots of fire alarms, lots of door banging, and today and yesterday were progressively worse, with today, or really now yesterday, being the worst in a while. I totally know it is intentional harassment, and have told a lot of peeps in authority about it, and soon, the local conspiracy of future famous ball players and their friends, will know I've counter-struck with my tape off in the United States mail to the Copyright Office, in Wash-Doc-600-13. The name of my music project is, “MI YOUTUBE NIGHTMARE MUSIC STORY”. How is 'Angel' doing, my good old pal from Oak Street, in HHNJUSAESMWG????????? Well, as PP said, he is not living on Oak Street any more. Gee really, I'm not living in New Jersey any more, like DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I'll say one thing for all of the residents of the great White House, it is comprised of a lot of extremely interesting characters, and not just those who made it, but all of the wannabees. Watch out mom, Clarence's hot lips might be sneaking up from behind you, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT!









Folks, this has been two horrible mother fucking days for me. I had a friend, his name was Len, he acted cool, I was his fool. He knew his tool, I crapped a stool, and flushed his face away. Bomb dee click clang and other percussion's of 1983, no, I told you it was Jimmy Hoffa, but don't listen to me, even though I told the world just exactly where to find his lovely ass skeleton. Sawn all of you doubters and high ranking members of the Missourians Club. Before the huge tidal wave strikes, just as Shorty and I were talking about back in those days, and I mean the one that rearranges the east coast of America, let me fully tell you folks, it does not have to happen here the way it happened while I was a very localized area in hyper-space, AKA 5-5, by GAGA, and I don't mean the tidal wave. How those cunt sucking bastards in Atlantic City could keep a straight face while they pulled all their shit with me between Lee Frailenger 1967 and Ann King 2009, is beyond unfathomable and monstrous, but they did, and they go on laughing about fucking shit right to this day, Mike McNulty, sir, so AHA AHA AHA 231-Icabod Crane. No one believes even when shit is thrown in their face. 'E.T.'

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