Monday, August 12, 2013

MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 00158-B






5:00 ANTE' MERIDIAN EDST, MONDAY, 12 AUGUST, 2013











I WAS VERY SERIOUSLY INJURED LAST FRIDAY BY THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, AND IT MAY FORCE ME TO UP MY SCHEDULE FOR PRODUCING THE MORIANITY RELIGION FOR THE THIRD MILLENNIUM, FROM WHAT WAS PREVIOUSLY PLANNED TO SOME DEGREE. FOR RIGHT NOW, NO CHANGES ARE IN WORK, BUT I WANT IT OFFICIALLY ON RECORD THAT AN ATTEMPT WAS MADE ON MY LIFE BACK LAST FRIDAY THE NINTH OF AUGUST. GEE, BIG SURPRISE; LIKE I FORGET SHIT, OR CANNOT READ A DAM CALENDAR.



WELL FOLKS, I'LL PASTE IN A BLOG FROM YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, THAT I WAS NOT GOING TO PASTE IN UNTIL LATER TODAY, OR EVEN MAYBE NOT UNTIL TUESDAY; FOR REASONS NONE OF YOU OUT HERE NEED CONCERN YOURSELVES WITH, AT THE PRESENT POINT.



MY SCUMBAG ACROSS THE HALL NABES SLAMMED IN AT MIDDLE AFTERNOON SUNDAY; AND THEN, WERE MUCH QUIETER THAN NORMAL. YOU BARELY KNEW THAT THEY WERE IN THERE, BUT THEY WERE. THEY'RE NEVER THAT QUIET. I CAN PROVE NOW THAT SINCE 1986, PEOPLE THAT RUN THIS GOVERNMENT, AND THIS WORLD; HAVE BEEN USING HORRIBLE COWORKERS, HORRIBLE NEIGHBORS, AND MANY OTHER TACTICS, TO MAKE MY LIFE A LIVING FUCKING HELL, IN ADDITION TO USING DEATH RAYS ON ME THAT FINALLY NOW, ARE PROVABLE, AND NO LONGER JUST THE TALK OF TIN FOIL HATTERS. IT IS ALL IN THE REALM OF COURT EVIDENCE NOW, BUT MY PROBLEM GOES FAR BEYOND ALL OF THIS, BECAUSE THE VERY SAME FORCES COVERING UP THE UFOLOGICAL STUFF, ARE DIRECTLY BEHIND MY DEMISE, SINCE MY MOM DROPPED ME ON MY MOTHER FUCKING HEAD, OUTSIDE HER PARENTS HOME, AROUND LATE 1955, OR EARLY 1956, IN PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, AT 440 SOUTH FIFTIETH STREET. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING ME STARTED MISSES ECKERT ON JULY 12 OF OH-MAROLA-3, AND FOR THAT MATTER, SPEAKING OF DECADE TIME POINTS, OR DOUBLE JASON MCGUIRE/PAUL STODDARD 'LEVY-THIN', OR NOT THIN, OR WHATEVER; CONGRESSMAN-1975 OLD EX-BUDDY; AND ALL THE MONEY IN THE MOTHER FUCKING UNIVERSE WON'T GET YOU INTO THE WHITE HOUSE THERE, DISTANT COUSIN; SO GO AHEAD AND TRY, ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN YOUR OPPONENTS WANT THE FULL STORY ON WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME SINCE 1984, AND THEN THE FULLER STORY STILL ON WHAT YOU DID LATER ON, YOU PRICK SHIT MOTHER FUCKER; THEY'LL KNOW THAT THEY CAN ALWAYS COME A KNOCKING ON MY POOR OL' FRONT DOOR, JUST AS THE OLD SONG SAYS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



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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 00158. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

August 11, 2013, 3:00 Post Meridian, Sunday!!!!!!!





THIS CHAPTER AND WORK INCLUDES A SUB-TITLE:



POWERFUL EXCERPTS FROM THE NOT SO DISTANT PAST MORIANITY WORKS: Let's examine one tiny week in time!!!



















SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 125

(NOT HADDON HILL LABS OF 1966)

(NOT 'A' OR 'B' OR BRUCE CUT WRIST WALTER)

TEOHIV-TMCAM-ST-3: “MESSAGE TO SNYDER,

SCYLLA, AND SEWERSCUM ENEMIES”:

WORLD LABS OF 2295 SBT-DATFILE:

CH-125-041711.065.555555555555----AKA April 17, 2011

COPYRIGHT MWM/MWM---2006-2011





(This is all done by ENEMIES or the WOMO, just to make me appear fucking stupid)



(Also the copyright years were hacked one way or another, and made me appear as an antimatter cross lifer. It should have read as the blog here reads, 2006-2011, & not the year of fake terror)



(Owner of the Philadelphia garbage Ice Hockey Team. Long ago now, not to me, but to many mortals, one day just totally became its own part two of a two part life that I am living since the 4th day of December in 1954 at 9:30 in the freaking morning. Ever since getting out of bed in Cherry Hill, New Jersey on the 15th day in August of the year of fucking 1986, my entire life was not the same as it was prior to this. It was noticeable not only in my waking world daily surroundings, but I had been keeping what I called LIFE-CHARTS, that measured the type of days that I had, and had been doing so since the summer time in 1982, approximately 49 months of faithfully writing several numbers down on paper from one through five on various life parameters, and with a basic scoring formula, arriving at a daily point number so that this could be averaged weekly and monthly and annually. Actually, I do not know if anyone alive ever on this planet of dark age ignorance, ever bothered to do anything like this before. I continued doing this until the summer time in the year of 1997, when I no longer could take writing down nothing but solid ones, ones, ones, every single mother fucking day. This is what led me to realize that 'God', 'Jesus Christ', 'religion', all of it; was and is NOTHING BUT A DIRTY ROTTEN FILTHY MOTHER FUCKING TOTAL ASS HOAX, AND I TOTALLY KNOW THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That does not mean that time travel is real just because 'MI' is on the beginning of a 1986 tape on the song entitled “Real Good Girl”. What I am saying here in a not so scientific or terrific way is simply this folks. Religion and all of this 'hocus-pocus' is exactly as true and real as you believe it to be, and is Biblically admitted to in these exact words, if you have the mother fucking guts to read the entire bible open minded. Jesus said with no bones about it that he did not do anything, it was faith, either his faith upon occasion, and our faith upon occasion, but FAITH, and only fucking FAITH, that accomplished the miraculous parlor tricks that were responsible for the creation of the entire Christian religion, and many others as well)



(You need total faith, and who has that unless you totally know, and then is it faith? Well, again, this is not really the 'time or the place' for this or '1989 Skywriter Donna' right now. Many times we believe because we know something, and say this is not faith, but what really is knowing something? What if we are in error despite thinking we are correct in in our knowing, and in our assumptions? This certainly can be, and is, the case on many occasions. Many times things are tricks, things are faked, things are put together wrong, and peeps, let me be straight up with all of you, I love to examine shit and play the great detective, but I am by no means some super sleuth. I do not believe in coincidence and my true hero is and will always be Yogi not the bear, who said that it is too coincidental to be a coincidence, to wit, I totally concur whole freaking heartedly. This includes a day I'll remember forever up on Long Island, at 175 Peninsula Drive, at my Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald's home. I did not feel like going, and remained at the house, while my mom, her cousin Ruth Huntington, and Ruth's daughter Kathy Gottwald whose married name is now different, ancestry dot com, so go build your data base with the amateurs that are clueless about the Mormon Church and their power ass Genealogical recording system of the past half millennium, all went out one night to see a movie in Babylon, called 'Sleuth'. Come on peeps, WHAT ARE THE FREAKING ASS ODDS OF SUCH AN EVENT, just honestly think about it? Let us get back on point to my message to dirt bag Ed Snyder)



(This is all another story for another Donna, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Quite obviously five hundred million bucks paid for more than somebody's troubled conscience, so don't even try and hand me shit like that, Hollywood. I lived through all this mother fucking bull-shit, wemember wabbit, whaaaaaa??????????? When the heat is turned up on shit that cannot ever be told to the normal and average population, it may start on just your feet, but forget the stupid song that I wrote and copyrighted back in mother fucking 1983. This heat is induced into the universe via the world owners and controllers)



(I am so fucking nauseous from seeing nothing but that evil scowling face Donald Trump, every time I go to turn a mother fucking television on, and merely ask the question how anyone in their right mind would ever vote for this man to be president of this country? Hay, it happens in lots of universes, and do not ask me what happens next, as lots of 'CT' peeps thought that Bush would do it, and he never did, “BUT” believe me folks, Trump will, and if you study the history of our great constitution, you will see why things were worded in just the way that they were, in order to prevent powerful European Monarchs to override our system, and take over as our dictator. You don't think it can happen, and here I am from the fucking future, and know all ready that it does in many locales in the 5th dimension. Only your vote can stop this fucking nightmare from happening right here, Sheeeeeeit, do I hope the coffee pots are all on throughout America, WAKE FUCKING UP FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know MI and Billy are up, so I'm left to ponder and wonder the eternal question tonight, 'is any one else out here', Mizz Ever After Sarjenka Pee Card??????????????????? Well enough of the Lee Daniels stuff tonight Mister Snyder, as it is now time to roast your fucking ass for a while, YO. Your cheating Hockey team is nothing more than garbage and low life cheaters in many various ways. The main way of course is by applying parallel event, and using what works best; hurting poor fucking old Mountainpen, as you have now managed to covertly fucking do for a solid fucking twenty-five fucking years)



(My cramp and diarrhea attack tonight again, gave your cheating team another hollow ass victory. Win and win and win forever, and this is what they will do just so long as they have me to fucking injure. I should know all of this quite well by now if I do not get a heart attack, Mister Joel, old friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, the main thing that hurting me does, is make that rotten rich man game DOW JONES shoot up endlessly to the stars)



(I'll break away from the Snyder Roast for a moment now and add something to this stock fucking market shit, folks. IT HAS GONE UP; SO LISTEN PEEPS, ROUGHLY HALF OF ITS VALUE FROM LAST LATE JULY IN TWO FUCKING THOUSAND AND TEN, JUST 8 TINY LITTLE MONTHS, THIS CHEATED MARKET HAS GAINED HALF OF ITS VALUE, IT CHANGED 150% FROM THE START OF AUGUST SOMEWHERE LAST YEAR, UNTIL EARLY IN MARCH OF THIS YEAR OF 2011, JUST (8 TINY MONTHS), SO LET ME DRAW YOU A PICTURE OF WHAT 50 PERCENT IS, SO THAT IT WILL GROW MORE MEANING FOR YOU, THAN JUST BLOTS OF LETTERS ON SOME ASS HOLE'S BLOG, YO!!!!!!!!!)



(If you are earning minimum wage or 7.25 per hour USD, and tomorrow you get the chance that the rich fucking boys on cheated WALL STREET got since last late July, you would now go to work on Monday mother fucking morning, and begin earning, $10.88 per hour. If you are making $10.00 hourly, this would now be $15.00 hourly. If you gross a salary of 40,000 dollars, starting Monday you will be grossing a salary of fucking 60,000, so do you get the point that we all are getting major fucking cheated, and still, I've not even fucking started talking? Social security did not get a cost of living increase for two straight years, yet gasoline has just about fucking doubled in price over the past two years, and food prices have also almost matched the stock market's last eight months uptrend. Is any of this fucking shit fair for the poor 10-20% who are being totally controlled and dominated and owned like cattle and fucking slaves by the other 80-90 percent of crooked demonic mean-hearted shit fucking heads? But back to Snyder the mafia cheating Flyers owner, and owner of the crooked security company that bought my nice Initial Security, where I was employed shortly after nasty fucking ass Jimmy stone fired me from the fucking Griffin Pipe Company)



(This was implemented after we had spoken on a 'bugged phone' for years, about this; and this gives them a better chance to play in the post season, with a smaller expended effort during the entire second half or so of the regular playing season. I know what I know, and do not have All Mighty wisdom as Scylla does, so I will not say “THAT” but will dare to tell the truth and utter the word, “WHAT”, and that rhymes coincidentally with JACK-HACK, only not in 'word-body', but in 'meaning-spirit'. FUCK THIS SHIT, Henry Botbar Fonda!!!!!!! Hopefully, Scylla will not 'CRY' and 'SCREAM', or throw any shoes at me from any Haddonwood machinery. Still, I know how great Scylla is, and that SHE knows what I'm saying here, YO! Still, why Haddonwood, and why any of freaking this if you really want to be technical? I gave at the office, and I gave answers to this on blogs as well, for nearly six years now. The gods are all bored to total tears, and they all need to play these endless games as a form of 'distraction from the hellishness of endless existence'. There are an unlimited amount of non-existers, and no more room exists for us existers in non existence, so we must exist, so fathom this seeming conundrum, philosophers of the 3rd-M, and freaking beyond, YO. Peeps love to say to me that technology proves there is no supernatural. I need no such advice. These are terms, both technology is a term, and so is supernatural, terms relative to their own rights of passage in a period and circa that humankind is evolving through. Pee-Card on TNG Star Trek made that quite clear on Friday evening's episode. I do wonder where they heard almost this in precise quotation. Could it be I wonder, the very famous copyrighted “bug in my rug or is it my phone, maybe the car, I'm never alone, whatever they find with their curious mind, will lead to frustration, and waste all their time? In any event, HA-HA-Icabod Arthur-8082, in wrapping up the roast of Ed Snyder, this is not a bunch of shit because I despise this fucking prick. It is all the total fucking ass truth, so deal with it, as we all must deal with the truth whether we like it or hate it)



(BUT and THE, are topics for way more elaborated detail, at other points out into the negative space. Let us now leave MISTER Snyder right where he belongs, in the dust and the dirt of memories, YUK!!!!!!!!!!! The old expression of selling one's soul to the devil is another cutie. This can sort of open up where my personal mood has taken me now, to part two of this three part blog, and this would be my message to the many scum bags in general that I must endlessly endure and suffer freaking through, YO. The devil is a lot of fucking shit, and at the same time, it is totally as real as we can make IT. It needs no form or gender, just as in the case of this nameless god that the majority of humans insults right off of the bat by calling it 'GOD', like CAT, DOG, SHIT, MUD, I mean christ-fucking-please, we all get named by parents, we name our fucking pets for crissake, and 'god' gets no name? What a bunch of total fucking horse shit that is. Read the bible. You do not have to be a Jehovah Witness to call this lovely teenager by her 'CITY-NAME', if that is what she has told peeps in dreams long ago to call her, then call her that, or him, or HIM, or whatever, as this is so meaningless that it sucks a pigs dick at light speed fucking squared. The biblical warnings of late or near end times for so-called humanity discusses this item of 'Antichrist', as well as how the entire system is founded and rooted in Christ. Obviously, this entity in any or all times, would have not only control over a lot of people, but younger people, and has the desire to do this as well, the young will always be the representatives of the future. There is no better way to think of the concept of ANTICHRIST, than someone that LARGE GROUPS OF YOUNG PEOPLE look up to and hero worship)



(OK then who? All throughout this long eternity, this entity has been madly in love with the All Mighty, and both of them agreed to allow a false rumor to spread throughout humanity in all time periods, that these two are enemies and despise and envy each other. Just as the world is not flat, the sun does not revolve around the Earth, and the waking world is really the dream-down, other false and reversed realities exist all over the freaking place. This is why the term 'SMART-MONEY' is in existence at Broad and Wall Streets, in freaking Manhattan. 92% of market investors all agree continuously to buy when they should sell, and sell when they should buy. It would be totally fucking illogical therefore not to consider and label these other 8% as the SMART-MONEY, because we all know the word LOSER would equal the other 92%, like fucking DUH!!!!!!!!!! Let us buy a nice shiny new freaking Hyundai car, YO!)



(But back to the conversation of words such as SUPERNATURAL to describe for instance a day like my mother fucking 56th birthday back last year on the 4th of December. I totally fucking dare any newbie to my blogs or anyone out here, to go back and see how my last birthday went, it was beyond fucking horrific and monstrous, it was unfathomable and unconscionable beyond any hope of fucking verbal depiction or description, YO. My dirt ball putrid enemies, or the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES (MO), caused these seemingly supernatural events to all fall into a perfectly placed linear order all around me, and without powers that go far beyond what any government on Earth is aware of in the fucking year of 2011, this simply ass put just could never have been carried fucking out, it just could not folks, believe that on your kids lives, BRAHHHHH!!!!!! Someday, how can I NOT SAY, that some of you or your grand children, or theirs, won't be experiencing exactly what I'm fucking going through today, and ever since 25 or so years ago? I cannot make that promise)



(I call the entire fucking Holy Bible a lie, so you tell me, is it? It says right in there that nothing can happen to anybody that is not common to other people in the planets' population, look for it or ask your damn preacher, it is in there, I promise you that, with or without MO!!!!!!!! With or without the great Comcast, or the great (CCC) Comcast Child Controller, and this includes 'teens' and 'early twenties', just as you promised me, huh Lenny Guns? You told me that you own and control the entire 21st century, I remember that, and I remember your very perfectly timed bladder, you old C-60 tape turner 'Lattisaw' you!!!!! Thank you Stacey, wherever you are, for giving me that MAJOR MESSAGE)



(My final third of this blog is my MESSAGE TO SCYLLA. I always wanted to be a police detective, deep down in my heart and soul, I am starting to believe this, my lovely brown-eyed-girl, (BEG). Your doggie Yancy Zeranniss is begging you to read this on all levels, even though I all ready know that you read this long before I ever wrote this physically in this time world. It is blowing my mind that you of all entities, SSJK, want to experience a tangible material existence that mirror images your real true one. Have you forgotten totally that the so-called spirit world may not be tangible, but that is what makes it so limitless, exciting, thrilling, adventurous, and infinite? I need to know why you wanted to do this. I will not post 'your song' next week, and bring Camping's prophecy into fruition. Rest assured, I will not do this, but it is conditional. You have to make me understand this query more than I do right now, as in my human life, it is making me totally crazy. Why would you want to play in a sandbox when you really own the entire beaches of the world? If all these years of poisonous vapors were all there to show me what happened in 1969 when I woke up from the interaction where you took my motorcycle chain away from me, and then 40 years later it melted into more than just sore throats for the both of us, how can that be rationalized when not only you and I were involved in this, but billions of others that had to breath in this horror show? You have the power to show me this answer, and you do not need my school chum and his bear buddy to show you how. If I get my answer to this one little question, I'll never ask another thing of you while I remain trapped in here, and that is a solemn promise Sarah-Stacey. All I ever want is to be in your great city with you, you know I never ask anything of you because I all ready have everything and more. I have you)



(For right now, I promise to wait until Thursday, and will not post the song on Monday. All I want is a dream to explain this one thing to me. I won't ask another thing of you ever)



(For some time now since you declared that indeed, “YOU RULE”, and did so on the twelfth (12th) anniversary of the date that I wrote the song, “SARAH”, that I will be posting up on Monday, just to get my revenge on Paul and Billy for being so mean and terrible to me after all I freaking did for them, but after this proclamation that you made from the tall top of the great Manhattan building of the Exploratronic Supermind, or its initials, I have watched an incredible 36 month period go on around me like nothing before in my life. In that time, you slowly made me remember things that I would have been better off forgetting. Still, I do not question the great Sarah Krassle, my beautiful endless Goddess and love)



SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 128

KING NEBNOOSHOO

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295

SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:

CH-128-042011.860-----------------------------------AKA April 20, 2011

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

3RD SUBTITLE TO THIS BLOG:

GAWKY'S PRIZE PATROL INTERACTION NEARS”



(Lots of chemtrail siege was all over the place in the Fort Pierce, Florida area all moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning freaking long, giving way to a sky of dissipated poisonous vapor that has had me feeling all fucked up physically for several weeks now, queasy and weak, with flu-like symptoms, but then pals of mine like the great U-Tube “SKYWITNESS”, and many other internet posters, know all about this monstrous horrendous fucking bullshit. When this nightmare began at the tail end of 1987, more than a year after my copyrighting the song “PLANES”, where my lyrics were discussing moonlight being blocked by WOMO, only in 'STM', my full grasp and understanding was along the lines of subliminal and subconscious, to any real meaningful elucidations and details operating in the real bigger picture of reality, that was and is, involved throughout this nightmare ass situation)



(Hay peeps, if you think that I like or enjoy any small bit of this fucking diseased sickness around me, YOU'RE FUCKING NUTS, but I am not gonna be a fucking denier because it suits both me and a giant police officer in Williamstown, New Jersey, almost as huge as the Voorhees Police Woman Dispatcher in the nineteen-nineties. Paula King, the lady at the race track on Street Road in Eastern Pennsylvania, and her, are all around seven feet tall or more. Many giant women are also all around me all the time, I have grown totally accustomed to this, and faces as well, so tell the entire 'spell-checker-unrecognized' Clooney family about that perfect storm song, YO!!!)



(The misery that the WOMO put me through on thousands of combined miles on Street Road is way beyond the Prize Patrol of the Pub McGuire Clearing House-In, huh Misses 1969 Marola, give me another toot sometime and don't talk in Latin or say “HI MARK” and just hang up. That is all so stupid and immature, but then this great marvelous wonderful awesome family, what can I expect folks?)



SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 129

KING NEBNOOSHOO BLOGS

TEOHIV/TMCAM

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297

DATFILE: CH-129-042211.060---------AKA April 22, 2011

COPYRIGHT MWM/MWM 2006-2011



(Planes when I left the studio were around, and I think they fucked with the electrical system of the area. I have a very special ear and memory, from my RPL days while operating duplication machines during electrical storms in the summer time in 1980, so I know (what) I know, and do not dare say 'THAT I KNOW' or 'THAT I AM', all though I did have the balls today to take something that belongs to Scylla, as she refused to hear me almost three years ago, and would not do HER own song here in this universe, so I did it with a little bit of lyrical rewriting for a male singer. Watch those journal tape seventeen eighty sixes Copyright Office, sheeeeeeeeeeit. How I remember the mighty Dawn-Marie King sliding the “S” word all the time back at the FBI-Sinatra address of Blueberry-ville, New Jersey)



(Gina, I TOLD YOU, that as long as these mother fucking jerk offs have me to pick the fuck on, and freaking endlessly viciously persecute so unrelentingly, THE DOW JONES WILL KEEP FOREVER MAKING NEW RECORD ASS HIGHS, AND KEEP GOING FUCKING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, AND ALSO THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS 'ICE LINGLONG FONDA JURY TEAM' WILL JUST GO RIGHT ON FOREVER CHEATING WITH WINS AND WINS AND WINS AND MORE WINS, FOREVER AND FREAKING ASS EVER AND EVER AND EVER; AND I AM RIGHT AND YOU AND THE ENTIRE PLANET SHOULD HAVE THIS KNOWLEDGE BY NOW, AS IT IS ON NERARLY SIX FUCKING YEARS OF MY BLOGS!!

Last night I fell into a very strange sleep and major wild dreaming-interaction. The great Sarah-Stacey Krassle showed me some wild incredible shit that took place first in 1966 in Princeton, New Jersey at the NJNPI, now defunct, and then we went up a ways but still quite a long time back from this blogs' posting in late April of the year of 2011, MISTER CAMPING 'DOOMASSDAY' PROPHET. Scylla laughed, and told me that he loves HER with all of his heart, and forgives him for doing this. Mister Camping, you cannot put HER in a box, no one can, not even THAT-BOY!!!!!!!!!!!! As for the wild 'dream', it is too powerful, and between SSJK and me to be shared with this sick sinful world. The chemtrails wipe out many things, voices being one of them. I hate having to sample my own self and let the computer sing. Chemtrails wipe many far greater peeps out, I still remember Whitney's version of the SSB, wow was that the quintessential ear punisher. Many say crack does this to peeps and she and crack are old and very good friends, still, SKYWITNESS and me both know what is really happening to peeps with all this fucking sky shit. We need no bricks falling on us. Whatever sinks your subs, floats your boats, and pops your corn folks. For me, give me the truth and the reality of each situation, and do not sugar coat or rose color it up just to make it freaking pretty. You can laugh and say I'm a nut, but I know better, and so does the Roman Empire and Sigmund Freud. Oh well, thanks to computers, the song got done, but still, I only wish I could sing like that, and so do lots of other chemtrail victims that did not leave large cities in the nick of time, and caught onto my message a little bit too freaking late. Oh well, SOSO. What really ever changes in this pitiful little ass hypersphere of the squared Astral Kalpa? There is something called the atom to hypersphere curve ratio, and in 2300, peeps look back at 2000 and laugh about so many things, unfortunately, I am one of them, me and my entire freaking family, right DJDS??????? So what is behind your story old fireman, I mean are you and her one and the same like Kent and Soup, and if not, then what are you trying to prove, D-bag? Quit infringing my copyrights Kev, YO)



SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 136

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME

BLOG SUBTITLE THREE: “ATTACKED BY A MAD-MAN”

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2298,

SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: CH-136-042711.690------------------AKA April 27, 2011

COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011,

MARK WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN



(I ran into '10 grand Joe Supersecrets' today, with the special bicycle battery of the Melanie and many other high-notes clubs of Planet Earth. He was in school with me, and we were studying Advanced Robotics. Naturally, this was in hyperspace, or you mortal worlders would say it more like, “Mark, you ass hole, you mean you had this powerful dream last night”, OYR, whateverrrr)



(Let me discuss this powerful nightmare last night that woke me with a super ass bang, thanks to my beautiful and wonderful mother fucking alarm clock at precisely half past eight, giving me the needed time to shower, dress, and drive four blocks to my job)



(LSS, I was in this robotics class, and Nick Cannon walked in with a group of women, all dressed very strangely. They wanted to know all of the details about something that Joe and I had just finished making in this classroom-lab of a sort. I began telling them what they wanted to know, and Joe suddenly stood up and yelled at me at the top of his lings, which I never ever saw him do in 'waking-life' at the Harvest before he was canned, or 'plipped' as they say 100 years from now, “pink-slipped”, without cause; some time back, and it is all on my blogs from last summer time, BRRRR! Just what significance these strangely dressed ladies had, I do not yet know, but they, along with 'Road Time Trip Man' all sort of ended up in the background more and more, as this interaction progressed. Mariah Carey was singing a beautiful song, that I have never heard before throughout all of infinity, and it was so beautiful, and like she was so famous for in the nineties for doing, it has many octaves, and her heavenly voice was beyond outstanding and divine. When she finished the song, she walked over to my seat in this school-lab, and grabbed the thing that Joe hollered at me not to let anyone look at or touch. Naturally, we all were so totally ass spellbound by her music, and her song, and her ultra fantastic voice; that nobody could even move. She smiled down at me in my seat, while holding this wild looking small, but seemingly heavy gadget. As she kept holding onto it, it began to pulsate, and make bright strobing colors. Then she sat it down on my desk, that was twice the size of a normal desk one might expect to see in a classroom at a college or a high school, and Joe jumped away faster than Britney's grandfather warped out of my home in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, USAESMWG, that day in the early nineteen-nineties. Then Mariah re-sang her super lovely song to me, and it made me cry like a little baby, because she sounded so totally fantastic, and the song was so totally ass wonderful; and with such a surreal and unfathomable ten octave vocal range with her full voice, which should be a physical world impossibility. Then everyone was suddenly just gone, while I sat there dumbfounded. The strange gadget was gone as well, and I thought that maybe, just as with the cassette tape back in 1986 in this part of the hyperspace, in Manhattan; that she had taken it, and who knows if indeed she did or not. I know that she lifted the cassette tape, after singing a song on it, along with the song that was playing on my car stereo)



(One thing I totally fucking ass know, and that is that some force out here wants with all of their heart and soul, for me to fucking discuss in detail, some powerful shit in both the years of 1972, as well as 1975; involving the All Mighty Goddess of this Universe and Multiverse, and I WILL NOT BETRAY MY FREAKING TEEN-QUEEN, NOT FOR ANYBODY; so go screw your mothers, you diseased piles of puke!!! You won't get these secrets out of me, you mother fucking shit heads, so you may as well just give up!!!!!!!)











Folks, this is a small bit of Morianic-Biblical work over the course of about a week or so in middle twenty-eleven, one lousy week. If I ever took all of morianity and pieced stuff together, from asking SSJKK for an 'answer-dream' and getting a huge one, to any of a quarter million other topics and or incidents; we would be an entire century, trying to communicate it all, from me, to you. The already established bibles tell the same powerful spiritual truths to this planet, not making things quite so personal, and with several other major alterations, the largest one being not stupid like me, believing you can impart the real total absolute truths behind all of the OZ-CURTAINS of reality, and think this world and its majority of residents, will ever in any way properly receive it, let alone receive any of it really, ever ever ever, Ingrid. Still, if anyone will just take this little one hour job that I just did, and look at this with an open mind, unlike my pal Dave Roth did that night in middle 1997 up at the Highpoint War-games Military Installation; well, just maybe things would begin to improve for all of the poor and needy folks of this very very very Ingrid messed up world of ours, WHAAAA!





Well, for now, I have made my point. It is doubtful that anyone has the ability to get my point, but it's out here, so my job was done to the very best of my extremely limited ability. I know what I have, and what I know, and I am smart enough to recognize that a new age religion for this third millennium is needed, or else, we will most definitely eventually be heading right back to the dark ages, and the times of the inquisition, and all of that nasty stuff. Mark my words, or don't, it won't make a bulls ear Joe Friday speck of difference.





You all have a very nice day. Sorry about the Weather Bug hack freeze. It appears we are stuck at one view now at the Jupiter lighthouse, and no accurate updated reports from the weather map or the lightning locations, as this data seems to have been all hacked out of my system, Bob McDowell, FCC, and other interested authorities, if any, AHA AHA AHA, Michael McNulty!





***END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:***






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