MORIANITY
PART 5
*****CHAPTER
00113*****
Folks,
it is ten shy of eight at night, on June 25, 2013, Tuesday.
I
fell under a mother fucking death assault today with major mother
fucking CHEMTRAILING all over. Even Mikey mentioned it, and said
before I got over to his place earlier today. That huge lines were
spreading out all over directly above him and his house. When others
do the talking for me, that is when I know I am not a fucking not,
Mizz Crazycursingdudeswriter of WFMU internet radio bullshit!!!!!
I
did my best after bringing Mikey over to my place, late this
afternoon, to try and get an application for a job at the Winn
Dixie Grocery Store in Northwest Fort Pierce, filled out
properly, and sent to them online, as that is the only way most
employers are accepting applications. We failed. I know more than he
does about working computers, but we still could not do it. If
someone out here does not fuckin g cunt see how unfair and unjust
this all is, then you all are worthless mother fucking cunt eating
scum bags. IT EVEN PROCLAIMS IN THE FUCKING
CUNT HOLY BIBLE, that people that the society is against in
the fucking cunt lapping END TIMES, will be prevented from operating.
The actual wordage of not being allowed to buy and sell, is a quote,
but it is from thousands of fucking ass years in the past, and I feel
totally confident that I am able to alter this a tiny bit to fit
perfectly into the internet and computers, being the source that
prevents anyone or most, in the older crowd on this century, to be
able to do very much if anything, any MOTHER FUCKING LONGER, YO YO YO
YO!!!
Well,
LOTS OF YOUNG GORGEOUS FUCKING PUSSY
IS STARING THE FUCK AT ME, AFTER WEEKS OF ON AGAIN OFF AGAIN
MAJOR
MILI-2-FORCE ACTION!!!!
I
could have had my way with eight lovely teen goddesses and
twenty-somethings, so keep up this mother fucking persecution in the
skies, ASS HOLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOMO
enemies, woke me up with
a HORRIBLE
SORE FUCKING THROAT this
morning, and I was sucking on Halls
Medicated drops and chewing
Bufferin Tablets for hours, until it finally went away.
Well, Lightning
is way to fucking worried about me, to come around any more; or so it
seems. This fucking year is totally fucking cunt lapping dead, as
far as getting any lightning around my area in Fort fucked up Pierce,
Shit-Non-Paradise, Florida, Botbarida, USA here on Earth, system Sol,
Milky-Way Galaxy (USAESMWG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCCCC:
OPEN
COMMAND ON GENERAL ORDER-7. USE ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS, ALL
TECKS, AT MAXIMUM POWER PULL GAIN 11.8 INCHES PER NANO-SECOND (IPNS),
WITH ALL CONTROLS DRAWN AGAINST THIS GAIN AT FULL MAX OUT POWER OF
11.5 IPNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Computer, scan
all enemies making my life a MONSTER ASS TOTAL FUCKING HELL, AND ALL
WHOM THEY LOVE, AND MAKE IT ONE AND THE SAME AS A CRUSHED (IO) NOW
PLACED ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK. YOUR SETTINGS ARE CURRENTLY AT
J-NORMAL NEUTRAL POSITION. ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B-TONE, PHASING
PUNSIHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, EMPOWER FULLY, THIS TOTALLY WRECKED AND
RUINED CRUSHED AND SINGED IMAGE-OBJECT (IO). 1986 ALL OVER AGAIN
WITHOUT ANY GLASS MOUNTAIN DEW BOTTLES INVOLVED, SO HERE WE GO
COMPUTER. HEAR MY MIND VOICE PRINT (MVP) NOW THROUGHT HESE 'E'
SOUNDINGS OF A AND B TONE BURSTS.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
MAGNESONIC,
GO TO CG-18, UNDER SPECIAL ORDER 39, SPECIAL ORDER 5555, SPECIAL
ORDER 2, G-901, G-1133, G-189,
A------N------D~~~~~~~~~~~~~S-T-O-P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU'LL
BE REAL FUCKING SORRY WHEN THE WINDS BEGIN TO FUCKING BLOW, AND THE
SKIES GROW BLACK AND OMINOUS,
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NA!!!!!!!!!!!!
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:
Now,
if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum
foil.
Forget
about the freaking aluminum foil folks. I will be telling a huge
secret about Project DREAMING JEANIE, and a little more will be
revealed about Monica Mohr and her hubby,s pillow talk at my Oaklyn,
mother fucking New Jersey apartment back in January of 1974, 29 and a
half cock sucking years back in fucking time, folks, W---O---W!
Every
single mother fucker involved in this conspiracy to do me in all
these years since my school days, is all part of the LAMBRIGG CULT OF
THE ASTRAL-PLANE. None have any idea consciously, but in altered
states, they all know exactly what is going on. Try real hard
remembering some very wild recent 'dreaming-interactions' you've had.
Yeah, so I know, and there's a lot I know, way more than any of you
fucking creeps dare to want to start even imagining!!!!!!
The
same people who built the Egyptian Pyramids, do things called MAGIC
TRAIL LEAVING or for short, the abbreviation of (MTL). Things my dad
said in his mother fucking sleep over a week or two sharing my
bedroom back when I had just turned nineteen, made me privy to things
totally unspeakable. But since these fucking jerk offs are totally
killing me and the fucking authorities stand idly by allowing it to
happen with dirty bloody hands and no shame or conscience whatsoever;
I'll begin to talk now and tell a little bit of this shit, YO. First,
he knew things about numerous schools, and said that educators are
all part of this powerful project, well not all of them naturally,
but a handful of selected agents that blend right in with the
pattern, and you will never ever tell them apart from the other ones
not in on it. Also, he knew things about Atlantic City, but his word
choices back then did not make me at all suspicious until the 21st
century began coming in, and things began to all unfold in certain
ways. He knew all about the entire family, as well. They all are
advanced super androids. They appear totally human, but have
extraordinary abilities in varying ways, all of them without
exception. Most of them, don't even know consciously who they are,
and one of them is still clueless consciously, that she is so
powerful that she could speak 5 syllables, and the entire universe,
would fold up like a bunch of rolling carpets, and then just dissolve
away as if it were never even fucking here. Monica is a girl who was
born in the year of 2252, who at the age of thirty six, came back
into time to 1973, married my father, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and
then had a child, who today is the father of a very well know top
child star, and under full control of the lovely wonderful and
marvelous son in law of mine, the Cannon. I am not sure he and my kid
even know who this lad is, but I will say one thing, Darius Evans, I
know you remember a lot of strange events that took place on the
night that you were in here helping me with my YouTube on this
computer, the night 'Carey's lovely twins' popped up on the Google
page out of nowhere. Actually, I feel that Darius or Deezy slim,
knows a lot, and plays his cards so close to the vest, they may as
well be glued permanently to it. He came here to me at just the
perfect window in mother fucking time, and I KN OW WHY, so don't
think that I am so stupid, fucking jerk off
OTAMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
this siege brought their evil stock market up today, and you can view
the chart and see it all for yourself, and I know exactly when each
point of change, each top and bottom happened, as this is matching
the exact time of a major event in my personal day timeline on this
day. Where are you when I need you, Lawyer and AG, Pam
B?????????????????
There
are a million things going on, and if anyone out here thinks that
these blogs have told much more than perhaps one tenth of all of this
fucking total ass shit, you
are very sadly fucking mistaken, folks, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
IS MORIANITY,
PART FIVE,
AND PLEASE BELIEVERS
AND L-4 FOLKS,
TRY AND HAVE
YOURSELVES
A VERY
VERY NICE DAY.
YOU
ARE CONTINUING
TO READ CHAPTER
00113.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
DOES
THIS DUDE KNOW HIS ONIONS OR NOT GINA???
I
believe that he does, lovely girl of the nineties!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
TOLD YOU ALL on a recent blog, about following the follow.
WAS
I RIGHT OR NOT, GINA? TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!
AND
ALL WITHOUT ANY**********************************
///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
'KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL'®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2013
So
here I am my wonderful awesome believers, of whom I think are between
2-4 somewhere, and I love you all with 100% of me totally enlightened
beingness, (I love these other two to four parts of me, that are not
me directly), in other words, knowing this makes me 'enlightened',
nothing else, no trances, no potions, no meeting of the minds with a
group of gurus on a mountaintop, no illegal drug consumptions, and on
an don I could go. Let us get back to the wild stuff presently so
urgent in MORIANITY. TANKS!!!! Only the Vatican really understands
MORIANITY, and even they are smart enough to keep their mouths shut.
Lightning told me last night in Akoslem City, that I better tell the
truth and not leave my Morians hanging in there with the Hammonton's
and the Huntington's, so I must now obey her commands. After-all,
she's my beyond hot and unfathomably awesome baby-blond love of my
life, and the third part of a wild triple GODDESS, and no more needs
to be said now or ever, or the entire thing will go right into the
NUKESON can! Not yet, Mister McNulty, not unless you think a set of
stairs in Suffolk County, New York was real funny in the very early
seventies as well, old pal from Exton, Pennsylvania! So here I am in
my car with a tape playing, while doing guard duty one night, during
my STOCKHOLM KIDNAPPING days of latter ohm-8 through most of all of
ohm-9. By December of 2009, I thought I had learned the full
depravity of my oldest daughter's sense of humor, I hadn't. Now laugh
if you really are dirt bag enough to want to,
MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
is like discussing Atlantic
City,
or Sarah
Jacobson,
or for that matter, the great United States Government, the Vatican,
and the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE. We can talk, we can cry, we can do a
Disney cower speed away with Gramps Spears screaming his lungs out in
the back seat for an ever greater metal pedal, but all of that, and
so much more, I never until just today, really knew just how down
right mean and frightening, my kid can be, once something you do
pisses her off. There is no grabbing the minute hand, and trying to
fling it back; as it is simply a hopeless cause. The difference
between doing things via the ES, and just lots of other great parlor
tricks; is that all averaged out and then remeasured again, the
agonies inflicted upon those victimized by either of these monstrous
atrocities that dwarf any concept ever conceived by Hitler, the ES
causes way more lifelong everlasting deeper unhealed injuries, after
all is said and done, after all the pieces of dog shit are swept up
off the smelly floor, and after the fat lady finally sits down, stops
writing, stops singing, and keels over like Shelly Winters' heart
attack, after her heroic swim-dive, in that great movie, “The
Poseidon Adventure”; the ship named after the true King of the sea,
Mister Cavelantisocleevious Krassle, AKA Neptune-Jupiter-Poseidon.
Him and his lovely wife, on the Astral-Plane, chase me away from
their great daughter, Sarah Stacey Jehovah Krassle, and then I am the
bad guy for being the victim of this hellish hyper video-game of the
Lawnmower-Man-2 system, for roughly, 1.49720507 times ten to the
twenty-fifth trillionth power year equivalent in
Astral-Interaction-Event or (AIE), something never measurable to the
last drop, any more than we can ever determine an exact relationship
of a closed curve (circle), between its through-ness (diameter) and
it's all the way around-ness (circumference). We can say 3.14, or
take it out a bit more to say, 3.14159265, but it still never ever
stops, yet there is perfect connection, and we can see it with any
circle a child of two draws on a piece of paper. So before you tell
me there are no mysteries unsolvable, let me first take a good
healthy crap into your brain, so that maybe you will think better
after that. Who can ever know, with or without those cool ass breath
echos, Copyright Examiners, AHA-AHA-AHA?
Go
back to 1971,
Mike
McNulty.
You're
not welcome here today, on Morianity. Thank you.
Yes,
Lightning told me that I must be honest,
and tell the truth. I admit I slightly made things appear just razor
edge off of perfect truth when I said on a previous blog that Diana
is scared to come around me, just as with many others, and I gave the
one real good example around the time that Iraq invaded Kuwait, with
the Resident Manager Nate, at the Echelon Towers Building of
Voorhees, Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG. I'll bet dimes to cunt
sniffing donuts right about now, my old ex-bizz partner PP is heading
straight for his local K-Mart with his own dirty pants, right about
now. He must remember the shit I told him through the phone back
before he had me rolling on the floor with his voice-mail message
that he left me, a year and a half back somewhere in time. He knows I
do what needs to be done. He know if you bastards won't stop hurting
me, that I'll do exactly what is needed, to deal with the situation
and take care of bizz, a lot better than he ever took care of making
all those millions in the music business, WEEEEENA. Yes there have
been a lot of very special and very precious girls in my life, and
all anyone has to do is examine the United
States Copyright Office
records, under the name of MARK
WAYNE MOHR,
to see that this is all true. I do not get stuff from all of them.
They get it from me; unless you want to seriously believe that I am a
real live true honest to the gods, T—I—M—E
***** T—R—A—V—E—L—E—R!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
ladies and gentlemen, Sarah Jacobson
was indeed, a very special girl. Too
bad Mister Mackey
would not let me run
my cassette recorder that day,
as a lot more was said in the shadows, than just the
great Bob
Madison Club
of the Teacher's Lounge,
and a few who's sleeping around with who stories, that go hand in
hand with any and all high schools all over the cunt eating country,
and most likely, the civilized world. Still, Mister McDowell, maybe I
love my calendar girl and my calendars, and you loved taping as much
as I did back then, but the real secrets have not even begun to speak
out, right oh lovely Karen Upchuck Carpenter-83? Now I know that was
not a nice thing to say, and I do sincerely apologize, but it gets
the point across, when I do a General Patton, you know; tell it down
and dirty. There is not always time for the amenities of niceness,
unfortunately, we live in as very mean, nasty, ugly, evil fucking ass
world, and you all know this is true!
Now
moving on with the topic of the great Goddess Sarah Jacobson, good
believers and other folks; I told in the first three years of my
blogs, a lot about her, as well as some stuff that all happened.
Later of course, I began to realize that this awesome two year old
from New York, was able to become this 22 year old super girl at my
school. I told you how she already knew about the Watergate days, but
never clarified back then, just what she knew and when. The day she
first discussed it in quick bursts of a few choice words, was back on
the newly built bridge in the late springtime in the year of 1972,
telling how 40 days from now, on the 17 June day, as it was then
early April on an unusually warm early spring afternoon, this would
all happen. Once she said this, I suddenly remembered a dream I had
of her just that night, where she was telling Steve the Jock, that
she does not kiss boys. Fifteen minutes later, this actually went
down in what you would call, real life. Talk about needing the
services of K-Mart. I know I had some ass wiping to do back at the
school. I told how that autumn upon returning to school in late
October, I had been beaten up in the same manner as my Cousin Donald
had, at a place we need not discuss right now, and instead of the
perpetrators being expelled, I was after shit was all blamed on me,
and I was then back at special education all over again, upsetting my
mother beyond any verbal description. She had been planning this for
a while and was hell bent on getting me out of the area, and I think
we all know why. It's been told and told and needs no rehash job at
this current time. Melanie Safka the folk music diva was just out
with her great song at the time, called, “Brand New Key”. Locked
up inside all of this, for all Dan Mackey and I ever knew, was this
entire mess still ongoing right to this very minute, and so maybe
indeed, and as the great MS said all along, maybe then, I too have
this mysterious key. Or maybe I did have it and MS was unaware that
ISIS had taken this stuff out of my closet in 1969, at the Dellway
Arms Apartments, on Oakland Avenue, in Oaklyn, New Jersey, Apartment
O-15, as in Gawky Gaukauk and his letter-number order numerology. In
any event, this did not all happen random in some meaningless
happenstance grouping of silly coincidental things. Anyone foolish
enough to believe this and to discredit the MORIANITY truths that
really double as the ADULT VERSION and reprinted BOOK OF THE BEACH,
burned by Russell Thaxton that night in middle December of 1969 or
maybe it was a little later on, as ISIS has fuzzed out my memories
now, for all I know it could have happened right around the time that
Dorothea Dario threw my bicycle into the Newton Creek, in early
January in 1970. In any event, the hypnotic SUNRAM eclipse, was still
a short ways off, taking place in March. Bob Madison was all a part
of this, as was John Zane, only in ways totally outside any boxes of
rationale. As of this point, I still am putting together possible
scenarios of how it all fits together, right down to Zane's teacher,
Mister Ciprionni Ohm. There is so much more to tell about 1969-1971,
and the joke is on ISIS, for telling me to tell the blogs more about
this as well as the progressing years after this leading up to the
song, 'LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS'
and the interaction where she sang this song to me, in early June of
1980, and now is more than 33 years back into time. You can wonder
about a million things that all link up to all of this, along with
the great original interaction and the giant county wide chemtrail
that dispersed and dissipated all over the skies above me, on the
following morning on that chilly December day in 1969, just half a
year after the almighty Misses Marola made sure that I did that
school play, so as to be at a precise place and time, later on that
day, down in Atlantic City, New Jersey, to hear the mighty and great
Sarah say to folks riding in a car that came bolting down Tennessee
Avenue, “Your friends are in the shop”. Just tell me this folks,
and I know the internet is gargantuan and appears to include the
entire world up there. Is there another Morianity or something even
close to it, anywhere up on this great and powerful OZERNET???? I
would seriously doubt this myself, but admit to not being god
almighty. Still, before we do move on with the great SARAH, which
caused my poor mother and I to be assaulted and criminally preyed
upon in numerous ways almost 24 years in the future, minus a month or
two, back on the second day of August in
1996, at the Pathmark Shopping Center of Turnersville, New
Jersey, County of Gloucester, Township of Washington, and BOOM,
don't get MOWED DOWN or jacked in by all these incredible backwash,
eddy, current SPACE-TIME-MIND symbolism's, YO folks, and please, is a
big ass W-O-W
needed right about here?
LIGHTNING
LOCATION: YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU DIANA
ARTEEMIS, MY
BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
NEED YOU BABY-BLOND, WHY WON'T YOU COME OVER AND VISIT WITH
ME?
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
HELP ME PEE, YOU HAVE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29th, and now it is JUNE 26, girl.
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Thank
you, it is my sincere hope that even if I die a horrible death, I
have helped a few along the way, know the truth; truth bigger than
any media sources, will ever dare to print.
May
the Goddess fully bless, all of my Morians/Believers!!!!
Well
let us wrap this all up for the day. Folks, my nightmares the last
few nights are off the scale. But there are people alive and well,
all around me, it matters not where I live or move, and they mean me
nothing but harm, but just don't have the guts to walk up to me and
cap me a couple of times in the thinker. Not that it would ever
matter, as none of us can ever attend our own funerals, and realize
that death is every bit as big of a parlor trick, as all the strange
sounds that materialize on tapes, or green horses that seem to on
video tapes, but no matter, the real truth is that I have told you
all, time and again, over and over, it is all a game, but just who is
playing it, controlling it, and the victim of it? Answer and solve
these puzzles, and you will have consumed the fruits of two very
tasty trees from long ago, on my side of a fence line, the first
time, not in 1972, not in 1997, not in 2013, but in 13000 plus BCE. I
never forget anything ERMC, and you are all mine forever, no matter
what you try and do to me, and yes, I am very very very disappointed
in you, lovely brown eyed girl.
Folks,
I cannot tell you what I want to, just know that maybe I should not
have posted that last thing up to the Youtube, on my site
paulaking2011, and no, I have not seen the yellow telephone anywhere,
despite an extensive all night search for two nights now, on both
sides of this great bridge so keep up the good fight everybody, and I
hope you all find your own yellow telephones someday,
before it is all too John McDowell late.
THIS
IS MORIANITY,
PART FIVE,
AND PLEASE BELIEVERS
AND L-4 FOLKS,
TRY AND HAVE
YOURSELVES
A VERY
VERY NICE DAY.
YOU
ARE CONTINUING
TO READ CHAPTER
00113.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
My
health has been hit hard by the WOMO-MILITUFORCE recently, and I have
been resting and recuperating as best as possible under my miserable
circumstances. I will not be able to tell a long bunch of things,
until I am feeling better. Still and all, this is merely all a lot
more ammunition for me to use against the enemy at a later time, as
all things fit together always and forever, and escaping that
reality, is as impossible as many other mysterious other ones. One
thing out of two things that will be told that are quite large and
major, folks; should be obvious to a pint sized moron mind, and this
would be, I said I would prove time travel is going on all around us,
and ever since I said this, my health was struck very very very hard,
lovely 1984 'Ingrid', whoever you are, or 'were', for REALE! Oh may
the mighty winds a blow, me freeends!!!!!!!!! Ahh laddies and
lassies, let me go on with me blog naol.
The
second thing that would be obvious to many, if they were living
through my journey and waltzing around in my small yet Titanic
connected 'Quoddy's, is the mighty and gorgeous Lightning Goddess
Diana Arteemis. She has been all over, to the east of me out at sea,
to the west by the lake or further out at the west coast of the
state, to the north above me and the south below me, but she just
will not come right around me, actually, hardly at all so far this
year, has Fort Pierce experienced any nice lightning activity. Feel
free to monitor the posted weather chart that shows her positions at
whatever time you click onto the blogs. Now, a Resident Manager from
another Public Authority Building, back in New Jersey, in 1989 and
1990, a man named Nathaniel, whose last name will remain anonymous;
told me that he did not want me near his family, and to please keep a
distance from him, and his wife and children. He was quite firm and
polite, but he meant business. He had witnessed a powerful
unexplainable thing that had happened to me, as the building security
guard. It is told about in more detail on several past blogs, and
needs not be reiterated now, for time's sake. Now this was a mere
flesh and blood human being, who as all of us, are vulnerable to
attack in many and numerous ways, and we are all frail and delicate,
even big powerful muscle people. We all injure and die a lot easier
than in the mother fucking movies, and THAT, Dennis Snyder, sir; ''is
just reality, son''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My pernt here Mister
Archibald Queens Bunker, is THISSSSSSSSS! Lightning has times, when
even SHE is afraid to be too near me. You can all choose to believe
and or disbelieve parts or all of the Morianity story, but I will
tell you in plain truth, I make nothing up, I imagine nothing, these
are not a bunch of absurd psychotic delusions and mental disorders;
and if you were a fly on my skin, for the past 30 years or so; THEN
YOU WOULD KNOW, AND ONLY FUCKING THEN, that these words are all
dangerously deadly TRUE
AND TOTALLY REAL!
My
simple point here today is that if LIGHTNING, who most people fear
and revere and are aware of its power and greatness, is too scared to
be around me; then what IS around me, that NATE,
and Her, and many others throughout my long HELLIFE, all are
so terrorized by, without any numbers of nine or one involved. Yes,
we do not have any 'nine oh one situations', or 'botbar quad one
buildings', or Technion Furniture outlets involved here, but
'something' or 'someone', is involved in all of this, right Kraptain
Kaymart Kirk??????????????????
This
is nothing new about lightning by the way. I have been following this
ever since the middle eighties when all of this fucking nightmare
shit began for me, good people! I do not hide stuff, and there are no
secrets in MORINAITY. It is all in plain view, but if it does not
quack like an EARTHDUCK, many will never be able to hear any of it no
matter how plainly it barks out at you. This is why Jesus, after the
great resurrection, was recognized as slightly different in
appearance, when in fact and truth, the difference was in the mind's
eye of the many beholders, who just could not totally escape the
EARTHDUCK QUACKING SYNDROME. They
see, they hear, but it is all fake steak and techno-pop. The problem
is that everything shares a commonality and this is that nothing is
really real, so then, what the fuck is phony, anyway? When anyone
figures out that little powerhouse wisdom bite, share it please, and
then, you are definitely ready to understand the following little
quick squib about Morianity hating secrets, and why the LORD called
EARTHERS, ''hypocrites'' over and over again, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NA
WELLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't care if it is the example of
several months back with Mister Woods-golfer and fiance', or anyone
out here with a Facebook account, or any social media. How can you
keep a straight face, and do all this stuff; and then hate the
government for supposedly spying on you? Also, when Tiger and his
girl posted all that stuff up, and then demand their privacy, no
offense, and this is just an example using name recognized people to
make a better point; but millions of you all are biblically described
so perfectly. The NSA is not taking your privacy, you all have been
giving it away for years, and then you complain. Now as for me, I
have a message to get out, and could care less how many people are
spying on me. Spy on, rock on, roll on, roll over and play dead for
all I care, I mean folks, get real; this is totally ass ridiculous.
If anyone could care less, Morianity has told you now, for seven or
eight years, that this was all true; only no millions of people know
my name, the way that they know the dude who squealed. Also, FYI
lovely folks, they don't HAVE TIME to give a shit about you or me or
our lives. The entire planet has been under surveillance for decades,
and the teck is just better recently and so it all has come out, but
not to burst any bubbles or egos out here, but unless you are
planning on doing something that is a threat to America, they don't
even know your name, or want to. They have raw data that great
programs examine and analyze, with a time backlog that you would not
believe. They are just now examining the most important
key-word-signaled data from 5-10 years ago, and this is why they were
not on top of the 911 event. The manpower is lacking, not the teck.
If you could record just 6 hours of the day, 40 of your favorite
television channels, tell me how you will ever catch up to watching
it all back? You'll get an ever increasing lag time as time keeps
passing. The NSA is not the problem. The problem is social media out
of control and nutty people. How can you get out there and tell your
life to an open world, and then expect or try and demand 'PRIVACY'?
It's the quintessential oxymoron if ever there could be one. Either
want the world to know your name, or don't, but why do you all
vacillate back and forth? If you have accounts and tweet out your
basic life moves 24-7, then what's your problem with big brother
reading the same pages, hay, call me dumb peeps, I just don't get any
of it, so if I am missing something, why not straighten out this dumb
old fuck?
People
say that I'm fucking Looney Tunes. Fine, I guess I am, because for
the life of me, I simply do not get the new age American citizens,
and really for the most part, the entire new age so-called civilized
global internet society. I mean really, I have had things happen to
me that go beyond the fucking known universe, and have begun to write
and record about it ever since 1995. I've copyrighted shit, written
music, written blogs, it is all real, and I only hope the dam fucking
feds read it and examine it all. None of this shit makes one bit of
sense to me, so if it does to you, and you will not ever comment and
explain this to me in a full paragraph and not a dumb ass 15 word or
less bird chirp, well, to me, I see myself dead center in a huge
jungle with billions of folks beating their chest and doing Tarzan
imitations. Hay why not, we can call him, Techno-Tarzan, huh Mister
WD of the non electronic fluid realms? Yes Mike McNulty, you
certainly surely may; so go for it, BRO!!!!!!!!
WEEEE----NA,
GINA,
and Nina;
signing off pretty soon, WHAAAAAABIT!!!!!!!!!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0369
WLSBT-DATFILE:
CH-0369-032012.099
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-95
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“REALITY,
ILLUSION, DREAMS, AND DESIRES”
©
2006-2012 MWM/MWM/BOM/MF-2
STARTING
THIS BLOG:
It
is early on this Tuesday morning here in warm Fort Pierce, Florida,
and the entire United States (48) also appears warm, unlike in other
locations in more distant hyperspace where police in Camden City
seemed hellbent to alter an accident report back on Saint Pat's Day.
Earlier
blogs talk about a powerful bunch of dreaming interactions, just as
the one mentioned here, again, dreams are no more than other
realities happening, and we all are always awake and alive in an
astronomically huge number and amount of them. Our 5th
dimensional being 'never sleeps or slumbers'. Tee Hee Hee. Still, so
many insist on things disproving this, only they do not. When we have
a serious problem, localized hyperspace kicks in as our nightmares,
after a bad accident or losing a loved one for two examples, and
anyone reading these words knows this. There are the few like Ed
Himacane with no conscious recall of any activity in hyperspace, and
they only seemingly are here and never remember dreaming. Still, the
equipment that is available in dream institutes will prove that they
do in fact dream, and merely for reasons that they do not yet
comprehend, just never remember anything. We all know that way more
than we remember, is sort of right there at the tip of our mind, but
yet lost seemingly forever to us. Some love to site another example
with me on this debate, that such as with myself that night where I
fell asleep at Cifaloglio with a bright beautiful full moon shining
in my face in front of me while in my vehicle, I suddenly found
myself at Linden Hill, where I lived when it was 1975 here in this
universe, at Apartment number 1118, in Lindenwold, New Jersey, and
had the telephone number (609) 783-4020. In the dream at Cifaloglio,
there were two maintenance men, who had bright flashlights, and they
were walking up the stairs towards the apartment where I used to live
at here, and as they ran, the flashlights were on and the light was
bright and shaking in all directions while they were running up the
stairs. In some parallel universe, anything your mind can think up,
is indeed taking place, so a common incident such as maintenance men
doing this, is nothing, not when you figure that there are
vigintillions of localized enough universes to contain things such as
another Linden Hill Apartment Complex somewhere on their Planet
Earth, and over here, a bright moon had moved in-between some tall
trees and was bright enough to make my mind tune into one of these
exact type of parallel universes. You can fight me all you want, I do
know what I know, and I am right, and you can all believe whatever
you want about reality or dreams, and whatever, and if it is not what
I tell you in my blogs, sorry, you are wrong. John Henningsen could
take things from here with his famous slogan and saying, from here to
Red Colorado Basketball Angerfits. I am starting to get very freaking
pissed off at this rotten basketassball for canceling the television
shows I enjoy watching. Oh well, this happens every freaking year
with this stinking 'MARCH SADNESS'. Yes I remember moons and
flashlights, and also bus rides and hills, out in the middle of
lonely country roads, and losing my Sarah at a very interesting age.
BUT, I remember another great part of this wild interaction, and
endlessly hope that very localized hyperspace will begin creeping
slowly together with certain things. They all ready may be doing
this, because when I went to fill out my exit papers at AARP on
Monday afternoon, the two persons were smiling all over the place and
telling me they are just going to put me into a sixty day medical
leave, and then I will return to a site where I won't have to kill
myself so much. I never sent any letter to the President, I hadn't
even written it yet, I was going to. As of Friday, it was all over.
So what changed, & should I dare risk those three magic words,
after my recent YT post? In any event, life is powerful and
interesting, and always has been for me. I was never going to let
this cat out, but I am feeling more bold than old, even shy of the
5-5+7 date, wow, mucho sickem swalen cherundo, or however it is
spelled, the gods will I be angry forever for losses that even Trump
could not have inflicted on me, or could he? Well George Bell Tone,
if you are reading this; you had me beat by a country mile, until you
invited that call girl into your life, and she robbed you blinder
than Count Russell Von Marcucci at noon.
If
my descendants are indeed reading this from the future and tuning
back on the Lunar-Sat SWISS NET SYSTEM, I know someone knows about
the shore because the minute I pulled up to the Beach House, there
was my favorite dude up in that plane, and Count Royal Guardsmen was
not his name. Great song dudes. Everyone of these places go for 13-19
meg in the middle and late twenties, and Mike's bro is giving that
monster place away at seven hundred G. The only thing more
unbelievable than this would be the next thing tomorrow or the day
after that one, that will happen to me quite obviously. In any
event, I'll never forget the experience at Flagler Beach back in
middle December of 2009. I got the same shock that you got Mister
Trump, when you saw Leticia Tilley on your video surveillance at your
Atlantic City Plaza. Oh well, you all just have a nice life, and
forget about all the horrible things you have done to me, you need
not remember. Things all balance out in the 5th dimension.
They have to, it is merely an equal amount of energy off of the D-6
that is spread around in the lower reality. Water in any form loves
to seek its own “LEVEL”. I capitalized the word,
because some freaking hacker is messing with the print, and forcing
the word to have a 'capitol. Letter', see what they are doing to me,
BUT, maybe it is my wonderful SKY letting me know she got my Thank
You. In any event, it is time to sign off and stay under the radar,
lll. Love is for Carpenters © 1980, only am I really the rightful
owner of this? Wow, this is one hell of an experience, YO. Where are
you when you are seeking more miraculous stuff, Benny-16???????? Yes,
a Death Angel attack is on my left side at 130 millidays, and my life
is stranger and more wild than anything that you could ever write in
a million years, James Patterson. The last sentence was just hacked
off, where ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU MCDOWELL, one chance huh, how
about one more, YO??????????????????????????????????? Does it have to
be 1963 forever old pals & old buddies? Where are you Jimmy
Stuart, my old hyperspace changer wonderful life 6th-D companion?
ENDING
THIS BWOG, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
LET
US NOT END THIS QUITE YET, BUT RATHER, DO A LITTLE TIME TRAVEL CUTE
STUFF, THROUGH A SORT OF “S-T-M” SITUATION.
Lotsanlots
of shit is going on folks, only this is not the month of March
anymore, it is the seventeenth day of October
of twenty-twelve, at six minutes shy of one in the
morning. Oh you poor little fucking bastard, Mark Wayne Mohr, of the
crazy's and the Jason Forrest crackpots of Aquarius
Records. Here is what you need to do my loyal MORIANS, and
even the skeptical unbelieving Lessians, as well as all of the
Inbetweenians of the GRAY WORLD, who R domestic or alien,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. You need to deal with a few powerful
truths, NOW, not at some other time. Your life in the year of 2012 is
destined to be the worst hell since this all got started being this
bad in 1986, and WOW, what a wild coincidence that both years spelled
out have not only the same PCN GAWNUMLY, but also have the precise
calendar year matching days to weeks precisely in all twelve of the
months in both of these frikkin years. There are only fourteen
possible ways any year can be, it would be seven, for the amount of
days in the week, but since we have the leap year, this now makes it
fourteen possibilities, and for complex mathematical reasons; every
twenty-eight years, is a full cycle on the calendar, so adding any
multiple of 28, or subtracting any multiple of 28, from any current
year, and the exact 365 days will fall on the exact weekdays. 2012 is
like 1984, not not 1986, but 1984 was so powerful, that I had no
idea, sort of like with the year of 1980, that while I lived within
that year, that this was anything but usual normal times and life. No
one is able to see the forest from the trees, and I am no exception.
Hence, 1980 with the powerful interactions with LOVE IS FOR
CARPENTERS being sung to me by GODDESS SCYLLA, early in June, and
then Gawky the magical black cat coming to me later on in that autumn
with that powerful and awesome lottery 'dream' with the number coming
out as the straight or boxed equivalent to the meowing word of “DIE”
or 495. Just as with all of this, the final major deal was finding
the HAIR ALBUM vinyl disc 33 record album, done by teenager Donna
Summer, who at the time, was Donna Adrian Gaines, now deceased, and
according to some great friends of hers, not from her chain smoking.
I am told my daughter is not against me either or my non mainstream
chemtrail claims along with my great pal AKA formerly-PRINCE and many
others, but that it was not the trails that made MC miss the high
notes of her later life and days, nor was it the chain smoking that
took Donna to an early grave. We will not need to talk any longer
about the Astral Plane either, so it seems, I need to do my
communications with a higher e-mail system. Now as old ex-pal Eric
told me from North Fort Pierce, Florida; maybe I cannot always trust
what I am told on the computer interconnected networking system,
well, gee, I know that, but I am between a rock and a hard place with
many things right now, right Mister Marcucci, Melanie, and Mister
Lennon Lenny McKinnon? Moving through transdimensional hyperspace,
and using the Astral-Plane as a bridge to time-hop, as many esoteric
and paranormal researchers know to have many truths within all of
this somewhere; do not know about a future known fact that becomes
learned in many areas of localized hyperspace in coming centuries, as
SPACE-TIME-MIND, or for short, STM. Without going into a dictionary
sized voluminous dissertation and thesis here folks, I will abridge
and compress this ultra major, with these following words and
sentences about this reality. Many advanced scientists who are
learned in the subject of Quantum Mechanics, feel that they have
figured out why traveling to a past time is not possible, and have
explained the long established paradox of killing your grandfather in
the past, and then what would become of you at that instant; and they
call it feedback prevention, in the science or new science of
wormhole mechanics. Wormhole mechanics develops slowly with
experiments after Higgs and all the other collider tunnels are all
completed, and what is later learned, is that there is more than
SPACE-TIME involved in the equations of cosmos. The sixth dimension
is all why the universes work as they do, and it is quite complex and
needn't be gone into on this blog. But when the individual localized
universes of the 5th dimension or the hyperspace, do
indeed begin realizing the STM equation of truth, this ushers in the
fully advanced scientific community that leads to the early 23rd
century of WORLD LABORATORIES. My experience in 1988 at Walker and
Water Streets in Southeast Philadelphia, that involve this future
life I exist in as Labber Zeejins, employed by WL, escaping by
jumping from a prison airship heading to what now is Brigantine, New
Jersey, and waking up the original time, not as a little toddler in
the late nineteen fifties, but on a train as an adolescent, with a
sort of Arnold Total Recall built in memory of being younger, but in
truth, I am in an endless repeating loop of February of 1969 through
June of 2031, and this has gone around approximately 215 times now
if my count is at all accurate. Moving through time using STM, is a
very similar powerful truth that was known by just about all of the
great ancient Chinese Dynasties, in their now world famous BOOK OF
CHANGES, not beaches, sandals, bleachers, or scandals. Only the
United States Copyright Office and some of the music industry
publishers, know that I indeed, have been doing a lot of 'traveling'
since the eighties, and the complexities involved in all of this back
and forth stuff, is not in the paradox of the 'other FDR' or the just
'four-dimensional reality', and because there are MIND
SIGNALS being sent down from the 6th
Dimension into the hyperspace or the 5th one, containing
these virtually limitless parallel universes of which this one here
is but one of them; altering
any kind of atomic arrangement causes no feedback as current quantum
science believes as one possibility, nor is it impossible to achieve,
nor does it cause a philosophical conundrum and paradox whatsoever.
The second that we alter our normal motion through time, with the
signal that connects our beingness and consciousness to the 6th
dimension, we rearrange our atomic structure and no longer exist ever
again in the precise atomic arrangement that we were in before we
altered the direction or the speed of 4-D motion, or time if you
wish. There is no way to ever control an exact restructuring of
events via altering 4-D MOD, (Motion Or Direction). It is like
playing a huge and outlandish gargantuan unfathomable cosmic game,
and it is more intoxicating and addictive than all of the alcohol,
drugs, and GAWNUM equations, all put together and then multiplied.
But never, is humankind able to do anything but PLAY A GAME, as it
cannot ever be under control; not without controlling the entire 6th
dimension, and that is sort of like saying that a speck of paint on a
wall somewhere, can control our universe. You can digitally copy and
replicate these specks until you filled up the cosmos with them, but
they still would never control anything. Also it would require more
energy than we could ever have available to us collectively as
conscious cosmos, to pull off making that much replication, of the
speck of paint on that wall someplace, so maybe this gives you a
small idea of why you can indeed play this game, but unlike Monopoly,
or Football, or some arcade video-game, or even the very best and
newest one, available to be played on your television or computer; it
is a mindless game of walking around high.
That is why I appear to be nuts and crazy folks, so let us take the
gigantic mother fucking cat out of the bag now, and then we can go
from 1980-1984, and hear my copyrighted songs and music sent down to
the US © Office, during those years, and realize the details, the
real ones, stretching from Icabod Laughman Crane, all the way to My
Nosanemind Pandora!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So do
things make any sense yet, dear world? Of course they do, to the top
secret peeps in 'Fortune Whatever', and the EW.
As
for Ed Lynch and 2006, and how MORIANITY was all preset to begin,
along with the destruction of life as I knew it; back in Mullica
Township, next door to Hammonton, Hang in there, New Jersey, Paula
Waves; you need to listen to the posted song, “DEAL WITH THIS
ANOTHER TIME”, and then you need to look at some posted websites.
Things will begin to clear up, ladies and gentlemen, that I'll
promise you.
END
TRANSMISSION: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT!!!!!!!!
1 comment:
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