WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2293, M-5-00137
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE AND TIME FILE:
072213.015
TUESDAY FREAKING MORNING
WITH
RE-POLISHED SHOESAND EMPTY CANS
WOW
MISTER TRUMPMACY, this is starting to get real
'geuoood' as Dawn-Marie the mighty and late KING might say it so
'well', Mister Pennock, old pal.
First,
every single clit huffing time that I activate my PC around just past
noon or midnight, down to 10 or whatever BOB and MI, or were we 10 or
whatever Callio Branch-code 16 divided by square GAGA roots? In any
case, here is what someone or something does to me almost without
fail should I not catch it and compensate for it by setting back the
clock inside of the PC-CP (personal computer control panel).Oh yes
sir and mahm, Marina Gottwald of Twisterville, lovely Glinda, and how
all of you can think I am a nut with all of this, escapes my tiny
mind 99 ways back from a naked fuckin g shore screwing her brother in
church Sunday Morn Mister Diamond, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or was
that Caroline Kennedy September, well in any event, try letting me
sleep through 11:59 unhacked PM on 0930, thank you, great songs,
folks, wish all fucking music sounded like this and what my kid used
to do B4 the dam chemtrails!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't
re-read this too lightly folks, Jeesh Surfer double time Fonty, and
triple time WOW, just examine this new Donna Fargo funny face, and
maybe it is why the clock got hacked, but still, Lenny sir, both
Lenny's even; no 36th Avenue, PRAISE GODDESS
ALMIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEENA-W.
MORIANITY
PART 5
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT
DATFILE: 072113.977
CHAPTER
00136
BEGINNING
TRANNY:
Smiley
faces or no smiley faces, no, there will not be a Morianity-C, soon
or ever. Also, all of Morianity will definitely be wrapping up, thus
Morianity-B which includes, Parts 1-5, makes up B, and this is now
towards the very ending of things, because I have already told in a
compressed way, the entire truth of what is going on, and in case I
am too mother fucking retarded to ever get it, nobody gives a mother
fucking rats ass about it. Amazing too, billions of folks all
trusting in some kind of stupid ass fucking garbage, and knowing they
will be physically dead before you can say boo, and turn to worms;
yet they go through life totally uncaring about this, and ignoring
someone who claims to know. I still think blood is thickest, and feel
that only blood knows this is real, and even told me so years and
years ago, and I very much appreciated that wonderful comment. All
that aside, things won't wrap up until I type in as promised on a
soon to follow blog, my mom's 1976 near-death experience as mortal
folks love to call things such as this, a story written word for word
by my lovely wonderful adorable mother and secret grandmother, in her
own words in 1977, and this along with tapes of my daughter playing
lab-technician; were some of the things that only divine providence
could have been behind, surviving my trip down here to Florida; as
this was the last thing on my mind to take with me when I left with
my life and the clothes on my back, the home of the great KINGS, in
early middle December of OHM-9, Mister Zane Hypnoses Ciprionni.
Here's to all Providence Avenues, providence, sound sampling, world
controllers of all things, and eternal hell residences of which
escape is impossible, AKA Black-High Einsteins of roulette-science,
Michael AHA McNulty. No that was not easy, and I got it, and we all
know, you've got it, Staples Store; but here is the way, to get it
every day in the fall; CBS Network, and yes; a great memory
S---U---C---K---S,
in
my humble opinion, of which Mashell Daniels has entitled me to
however, as of 1980, WOW, gee gads, golly gash darn gee whiz
willagars, YO, silly stupid old man that I am, James Stuart, sir.
I
am all alone in a place called HELL. Hell is not describable. You
live with billions of mother fucking bastard assholes who refuse to
believe a word you say, mock and laugh at you 24-7, and persecute you
in every conceivable way without shame or mercy or humanity. It is
real, and I am unable to do one thing about it. I know theoretically
how to get out of it, but built into it is something called the Brick
Wall Bluebook Syndrome (BWBS for short). Peeps trying to get the UFO
shit cracked open understand my frustration. Yet these same jack off
dick heads turn right around and do the very same thing to me that
they despise so much that is being done to them regarding their
UFO-space alien situation. It is hard for me to have a speck of
sympathy for anyone, as everyone has demonstrated to me, for just
about 60 years now; that they all are in some black-ops private
competition, for receiving the 'Prick of the Century Award'.
Thank
you LIGHTNING, my wonderful love, for being around here with me both
this morning and this evening, displaying the most colorful and
gorgeous bolts of CG and RIB displays ever. Just when I am convinced
that you cannot come to me any more beautifully than you did the last
time, you blow my mind, Diana.
A
careful study of my blogs reveals that indeed, there were 4 of us in
that ADA Office on 5 December, 1989, Ron Wirtz, Mizz Spinosi, David
Roth, and myself. So now if you answer me this second question, I
will, before taking down the entire account, post up to The Youtube a
20 minute video that will make all doubters of ME & MORIANITY,
gulp very hard. Anyone following this who does not crap in their
pants after seeing it, has major control over both their emotions and
their intestinal tract. You won't need to prove authenticity about
any of it, believe that, you will know it as if Diana had just come
down right in front of you, and killed all of your kids. Not a nice
way to put it, but again, General Sir, loud and dirty, I don't want
any of you to like me, I want you to believe in Morianity. You won't
however unless I post this thing, and I will not do it unless the
second question is now responded to, accurately, ELIMINATOR! What
store did the NSA AGENT have a short talk with me in the early
nineties, on the Route 30 New Jersey road, that goes from Camden, to
Atlantic City? What is the name of the store,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENA WELLS????????????? Also, you must in
some cute clever way, tell me how it might be connected to Mister
Jason Forrest of the great Internet Radio Station WFMU! Do that, and
I'll post something that will make the world take a week off like
back on 911, only without any violence, there has been more than
enough of that fucking shit, huh folks?
Yes
Leticia, you and I could do a real circus act together with our
animal impressions, but here is where MOGOSP fits into the system.
There never would have been that LOIS FOCA INTRO, if some electronic
trickery and magic, was not done, when I originally went to record
the version sent down in 2007 to the Copyright Office, as the
original was just not something that included that introduction. But
after this force made me angry, I began doing a test-vocal, and that
is how the Dick Wolf sounds ended up as that intro, but you do a much
better dog than I do, Letty girl. Now I was great with cat talk, but
chemtrails have been so bad over the past few years, that my
particular DNA suffers an allergic reaction to an over abundance of
aircraft jet fuel. Those who wish to believe all the wilder stuff
about chemtrails, I never laugh at anyone, but I do know that just
these fuels when over concentrated in an area day after day, effects
certain DNA, such as mine, another powerful proof, only we need not
get anybody more pissed off, especially when I didn't do anything
wrong. Still bad guy me, YO. **(End
Tranny).**
I
tried e-mailing the fucking FBI, and it did not work. Yesterday and
today have been the worst mother fucking siege death assault in I do
not know how long, I am sure the DJIA MARKETS flew up 500 points to
some ridiculous all time record high price. I have not as yet checked
the charts.
My
computer clock was hacked yesterday, this morning I could not blog on
the WORDPRESS SITE, and was hacked; and this mother fucking
horrendous death day with my HELL FUCKING NABES ACROSS THE HELL-WAY
from me, is off the scale, as the ILLEGAL FUCKING SCUM BAG CAME BACK
YESTERDAY IN THE AFTERNOON, AND TODAY WAS TEN TIMES FUCKING WORSE,
WITH SHOUTING IN THE HALL FROM MANY HOODLUM HIP HOP THUGS, SLAMMING
THEIR MOTHER FUCKING DOORS ALL DAY LONG, AND AT MIDNIGHT THIS WILL
END, AS I AM CALLING 911 AND ONE WAY OR THE OTHER, THIS ENTIRE
FUCKING NIGHTMARE IS OVER AFTER TODAY, ONE OF US WILL BE LEAVING THIS
BUILDING IN CUFFS, THEM OR FUCKING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
is what you get world, when you tell the true story of humanity, and
their triple entity all powerful exploratron being, and put it in one
compressed, or a few short compressed chapters; despite no ordinary
person being able to really see the entire picture that this paints.
It still is all posted up here, along with my otherwise totally
unexplainable YOUTUBE account. The hoodlum hip-hop peeps across from
me were paid to do all this, and an idiot can fucking see what is
going on. You have no rights in this world, not against the FORTUNE
500 AND THEIR BLESSED UNDERLINGS, one group being a group I had no
Earthly way of even knowing existed, back in July of 1970, other than
from a horrible sequence of recurring nightmares, while staying at
the home of a fucking rotten child molester, who molested me; Mister
Tom Reale, on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, USA. A child
can see what has happened to me. It is all forever online, to be
witnessed over the next thousand mother fucking years. Again, my
apartment is re-packed up, and I will be running away for cunt
lapping MEXICO, as the next week comes in. I can't stand any more,
POPE YES! You cannot have the dirt bag EW and F-500 against you, and
live through it; not with any sanity remaining whatsofuckingever.
Before they take away what tiny drizzle fizzle of life I have left
remaining, I AM SO HARRY CALLAS OUT OF FUCKING
HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
told you what has happened to me, and 99% of you are just the
MILITUFORCE READING THIS ANYWAY, but the other 1% dropped the ball.
They should have each told one who tells one who tells one, if I were
to have a chance. This did not happen, so maybe that 1% is not really
there either, and I must now deal with this new mother fucking cunt
chewing monstrous reality, and literally, MOVE ON, and AWAY, forever.
I did it before in late ohm-9 from fucking cunt Jersey, so anyone
foolish enough to not believe I'll run for my fucking life again, is
stupider than dead piles of vomit in the summer fucking sun, Mister
Jane. Well, you and me are FRIED, buddy, as was Bob and Dan, hard as
they 2 also tried to get the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL Mary Carter message
out to the world in late 1969 and into 1970, through the great serial
television show, “Dark Shadows”! While I am here, I will go on
blogging, and then when I settle into Lake Chapala, Mexico; I'll
again, resume it when I am all fucking settled in, and reasonably
fucking ass safe, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Of course, the 1997 song tells
me that Captain Picard Borg Futility is an endless equation in this,
but I still am only human, Bruce old pal, and must try and escape
this horrendous
goddess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Satan bless the fucking Martin's; all of them, from Toledo, to Egg
Harbor, to North Florida. Yes, I know you know, Mister President, and
am shocked you were willing to reveal this whittle message for me
tonight. I knew you knew, Jesse Gov has the entire thing written down
in a secret safe and where else, but right near Hoffa's buried
remains in the Pittsburgh on IOSC AVE, in ACNJ-USAESMWG! Have a nice
life, you, and all others on the Hill. I wish you all only the best.
You cannot fix this you know, you're all as powerless as I am. I just
carry around 'the knowing', 24-7-365; and you are all smarter by just
putting it all out of your conscious freaking minds. I admire and
respect all of Washington, even down to the age of sexual consent.
You don't pretend to be saints, as the NY-SVU peeps do on fictional
WOLF DOG TRUMP NETWORK TELEVISION! 2+2 is 4 in all and any worlds
that I choose to live in. You can all KM White-Lilly A.
If
I AM FOUND DEAD IN THIS UNIT APARTMENT, I WAS FUCKING MURDERED, AND
MORIANITY TELLS THE ENTIRE STORY, FROM 'A' RIGHT STRAIGHT DOWN TO
FUCKING 'Z'!
The
one lie that I told was to myself, in 1996, when I was totally out of
my mother fucking mind 100 times worse than right now if that is
believable, trying to find Almighty Sarah. At least this only hurt my
credibility and me, and no one else. Ed on the other hand promised,
SOSO-WEIN, that my blogs and my foundation would lead to somebody
eventually helping me against the tyrannical powers I face every
single mother fucking dick licking day of my life. Now maybe he just
should not have been so certain and sure of himself, but it still was
another of my endless string of jerk fucking offs making me one empty
fucking cunt promise after another, all my cunt sniffing miserable
life, and NEVER EVER is a lousy one, ever fucking fulfilled. You too
would be fucking miserable whoever you are reading these prick eating
words, and please, don't go thinking for a rotten second that you
wouldn't. But let's talk about that lie I told to myself so I
wouldn't go totally fucking nuts, about Sarah, regarding that night
on 12 July, 1970, on that public transit New Jersey bus at the
Atlantic City bus terminal. I said she was there with her great gang,
and came to my defense when one of these Quoddy Mockers said my face
was all messed up, and it was, I had a real bad nasty ass fucking
sunburn. Still, this did not happen, she was not even there, and in
fact, the last time I ever saw her was in 1969 when Peeky raped my
puny little ass underneath the Central Pier.
This
damaged my credibility with my MORIANITY PROJECT! This one fucking
rotten lie. Hay, I realize that. It was the only dam lie I ever told
in all of Morianity, but it was a huge one that ended up fucking up
not just my credibility, but the entire reality around me, and then
folks say there is no SATAN that influences us to do bad and stupid
mother fucking things, oh yeah, right, sure, um-hmm OK dudes and
duddesses!
I
will never ever tell another lie, but it is too late, the damage was
done, John McDowell of 1963 Philadelphia. Did anyone ever ask
themselves why the great Goddess is doing all of this to me? Well,
did I ever mention how much fucking respect that I have for China and
its culture? They have wisdom that transcends the fucking rocks of
ages, folks, and I of course am currently speaking of one thing in
particular, the I-CHING. Notice how in Dark Shadows, they merged the
old ideas into Exploratronics, where a 'host-body' is not necessary
any longer, in order to dominate your spirit energy into. If you
follow the gradual way many things begin and then slightly alter,
many secrets begin revealing themselves, at the dam ass speed of
frikkin' light.
Oh
fucking Goddess Almighty, it swings around so fast, a year is like a
fucking cunt eating week used to be. It seems like 9 days or so ago
it was just the last anniversary of Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and
how can we ever forget lunar orbiter, Mister Collins of the
non-Flower Wing?????? Well, as if I have nothing better to mother
fucking do than concern myself with this,
Pool-Joanroy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, when a lap
swimmer asks how I can just swim along with her without swimming, you
have to fucking wonder, why a lot more than the two of them, have
been interested in me for a very long god dam ass time, or do you?
You could probably care fucking less, and yet you are so clueless to
the fact that whoever you are, you are one of about 25-35 people,
reading Morianity regularly, and that this will indeed become the
religion of this entire millennium. WOW Mister Macy. Do you really
wonder, Mister I Ching, why I would get an answer today from GAGA of
PCN-165, when asking why the huge attack began for me on Thursday. I
mean really, are you shocked one tiny bit? The odds of a random pick
of the cards would be 1:81, in case anyone out here has forgotten the
basic knowledge of the GAWNUM, meow!
YEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAA,
I will be in Mexico in a couple of weeks, so goodbye to dark horse
Jane, on or off the charts, AM radio of Philly. Say hi to Santa and
Patty, Mel!
Well
this non-greedy fisherman is gonna' take his whittle pole and go home
now, for a while, well, not really home, that would be the void or ZD
(zero-dimension). Still, the original dream-out lands us on the
ASTRAL, just as a human experience might if we enter that forbidden
zone just to the southeast of me a little, right lovely Mary Carter?
How long the world wishes to remain in the dark ages without grasping
onto the Morianity Preserver of truth and awareness, is anybody's
freaking ass guess, YO. The minute you think you know, from messing
with time, just that thought that you now think that you know, is an
energy that disturbs the quantum foams in ways too far out to get
into today, good folks. Still, as I said in 1983, then you'll know
and then you'll flow. Only it was me that was destined to flow, right
down the fucking toilet. I died and went to hell, and since this
time, have died and died and died. Every dam time, hell gets worse
and worse and worse, Mister Howard Solomon,
sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Happy dreams and happy trails.
Big
Lots, you were talking to him and asked why he took your cassette
tape from the outside phone booth, sweetie. These were the tapes you
claimed in only one morianity lie told, used to hurt poor Donna, and
the Friendly Ice Cream robbery was just a cover.
Please
do not abuse Morianity, not for my sake, but for all of our sakes, as
you may or may not recall, it can indeed cause severe Earth surface
disturbances, or ESD for short.
Folks,
we'll start off with things that have little to do directly with
Exploratrons and recent discussions, but think not for one second
that this does not perpetually connect up, as that would be a serious
error in judgment.
All
things connect, and without further ado, and as an old song intro
begins, “Here we go”. There is an old adage that absolute power
corrupts absolutely, but what is absolute power, and why does it
absolutely corrupt? When the truer than presently understood truths
behind this are shortly made known by this blogger, perhaps many
things will start fitting better together on these blogs as a whole,
to many of you out here, and what a joke, I know it is between 30-50
and that is a far cry from 'many', but it is better than a zero.
I
am not greedy, and I will take what I can get, MELVIN STONE HARBOR!
Thank you Google for the prompt back there, but my recurring school
of mystery for so many years, is not part of this blog or the current
situation that I plan to discuss right now. Still, thank you, Fred
Windstein, always now here, Sarah. Funny funny, Sheila Franklin
Bigtits, but all laughs laid aside for right now; and more than it is
funny or even weird, it is dots connecting; and part of a secret
message given by me to this cave day world in that 1997 song called,
“Don't Hide, You Can't Hide”, and this you better bet Mister Ward
Cleaver, is no Jersey Public Transit Bus line, from the 1969 to 1996
year inversions, of the great die-twice Mister Callas. Where are you
when I need you, old camp counselor of Maryland, Mack Kaiter? Are you
and Louise hitting as many red 'X' blocks as I am? Did you ever ever
wonder why I told about the red-X deal, Mack and Louise, back in 1967
and 1968; or were you too busy wondering where the shadows would be
dwelling, in the bright noon day periods each day? How would Mister
Macy and my distant cousin put this, possible other cousin Martha,
W—O—W?????????????????????????????
Then tell me this folks. What are the odds of a very unusual name
like Louise's last name, just popping up down the street from Jenny
Plageman's Trailer Park at the turn of the millennium, you know, that
building complex where years after David Roth and he worked together
for a short time, I was taking nut case
Dawn-Marie King to get her head shrunk so often?
People,
let us work our way around and through some side and rear doors, when
the only thing that walking you right through the front, would lead
to, is a solid wall of cement. First, let us talk about the day I
left Andrews' Office and headed down the AC Expressway. I told them
that the only possible thing left in my entire life, for what is
going on around me, was the past I had in Atlantic City, and even
though I was unsure of so many mother fucking details of this macabre
mess, common sense normally eventually kicks in for all of us, and
also, Pat Jane's Mentalist TV show, and his point, does also, you
know; what makes the most sense and what fits the most or better put
I suppose, what fits the simplest and easiest, as this is indeed most
times, leading right towards lots of unknown sought after truths, by
all of us. I had planned to show what I could do in water. Bad move.
I was nearly murdered by the chief of the beach lifeguard force. His
story was he saw a large fast swimming object, and came out to see
exactly what it was. Again, I said, this was his story, when I
suddenly observed him to my right. He would not have been able to
creep up behind me, as he never would have been able to catch me. All
this aside for now, and Haddonwood pool experiences as well; let us
move on again to a road trip when I was visiting cousins of my mom,
actually her first cuzz Ruth Huntington, from Suffolk County, in New
York, in 1972, and I met a lovely sixteen year old blond girl walking
her dog, while I was walking the dog that belonged to my cousin, the
daughter of my mom's cousin and her hubby, the big hot shot yachtsman
of 175 Peninsula Drive in Babylon; and with Ruth and I, were the
children of Ruth's daughter, so if this makes them my third cuzz's,
then whatever, Christopher and Scottie. Now, if a murder was
committed just for sake of an example; then the next thing I say,
would tie these events all together quite sufficiently for the
investigators to absolutely begin to dig into all of this, and in no
way dismiss it. I speak of how I got the fucking crap knocked out of
me by two huge lifeguard mascots dudes in 1975, at what now is called
Hilton Beach in South Atlantic City. My mom went up to see all these
cousins, and guess who was there on the boat ride, on my 'uncle's'
ketch schooner, but Mister Sunshine himself, Jimmy Dean, and
Christine Myers, daughter of my mom's first cuzz Ruth. Now there was
no murder, and this was brought up for reasons that I may or may not
ever be willing to go more into; but what did happen, was not really
bloggable, as even though statute limitations would most likely be in
effect pertaining to a property trespass by me on that road-trip, the
home I entered, and the toddler I followed when she insisted I do so
on that day, is not Jane Doe. Most or many know what is being said,
but do not understand where I am leading the story into right now. As
General Patton said a number of decades ago, it is only important
that I know, not that any of you know. He said this regarding a
battlefield situation, but the point I am making here, equalizes
anyway.
L-4,
speaking of the great general, I am now going to give it to you loud
and dirty, short and sweet; maybe not perfectly Nixon clear, but then
there are no tape recorders running right now, or are they, Mister
Lenny McKinnon, old 'gate-jam-pal-601' rap
music inventor, sir? Now if you want me to sit fucking here,
and believe about 799 stories, with similar lines running through
them, such as the one I will pick from recent times, and just this
year; YOU'RE AS NUTS AS 1,000 FRUIT CAKES!!! When my so-called
associates-friends from Port Saint Lucie, known now as
BonJovi Entertainment, did what they did, all innocent as it may
appear to an investigator, it is still just as
if, Doctor Garrigan of 1970 old pal, MOGOSP was in effect.
What is a MOGOSP, you ask me
folks? Well, if you'd fucking take a day to examine and archive some
old blogs, by clicking on the MY BLOGS link,
ever; YOU'D FREAKING KNOW, but for right now; I'll tell you all, so
how's freaking that? It stands for a MOTIVE-GOAL
SOFTWARE PROGRAM.
It is as though somebody had a cosmic program where they type in what
they want, to some unfathomable super computer, and it then does its
damdest and again, as the General would say; to carry out the orders!
Screw the spelling, the general said it, and it's good enough for
fucking me; and Microsucks won't spell it right, so screw them all!
Now moving onto to the second and final point on this blog.
Forget
about moving on anywhere for right now on this sweet lovely adorable
frikkin':
MORIANITY,
PART FIVE,
AND PLEASE BELIEVERS
AND L-4 FOLKS,
TRY AND HAVE
YOURSELVES
A VERY
VERY NICE DAY,
AHA!!
YOU
ARE
CONTINUING
TO
READ
CHAPTER
00137.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
SO
PLEASE DO SO, AS THIS IS MAJOR MAJOR!!!!!!!
Thank
you for the magic prompt right now, I will do this myself, Leticia
Tilley and cuzz, you guys have a teek and C-berry on the cubes for
me, and HAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You
win MI, I knew in 08 that YOU RULE, I AM SORRY NOW!
PLEASE
EMPIRE RULER, FORGIVE YOUR CRUMMY THAT-BOY FROM SAHASRA-DAL-KANWAL. I
WILL NOT INTERRUPT YOUR WONDERFUL SLEEP HERE ANY LONGER, YOU HAVE MY
WORD, LOVELY CURLY HAIRED B.E.G.
I
know when I am defeated, world. Pay no attention to little shit me,
all of Morianity is just a pile of crap, if that is what SHE says,
then so be it!
Never
mind all the good I tried to do,let us all just remember what a total
fucking jerk off I am, even after 19 years came and went from the
Blum Blues, right Chris. I will no longer be inside of Mark Wayne
Mohr. CRISSAKE, I
am sorry for all of this!!!!!!!!!!
Back to the cold icy grave I go now! WOW, a third fucking fire alarm
in one day, AGAIN at one AM, JESUS! Is this Almighty ISIS or what,
kind RON, ADA, Camden County Prosecutor Office of New
Jersey-1989-1997??????
IF
THIS IS NOT AN ALL MIGHTY ENTITY WORLD, WHAT IS??
WOW, IS SHE THE QUEEN OF HACKERS OR IS IT LOVELY LETTY?
2008 MAY, ALL OVER AGAIN, PLANET EARTH.
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