MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER CLXI

2:44 AM-EDST, 15 AUGUST, 2013, THURSDAY

MORIANITY

PART 5, CHAPTER 00161

**********STARTING THIS TRANSMISSION, YO:**********

'FOR THE RECORD', This is neither 1984, OH GREAT UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE, nor is it 1986, PRAISE ALL THAT IS HOLY AND UNHOLY IN THE QUANTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT LET ME STILL STATE FOR THE RECORD, THAT YES, IT IS NOT 1988 AND I AM HERE, EVEN STILL, WITHOUT BEING THE PROPHET OF THE GREAT VOID NOTHINGNESS, but I AM stating for this official record, a few facts. My WOMO-M2F enemies will not like what I say, but them SOSO-WEIN???????????????????????

WOW, this will be very short, but very GOOD, YO!!!

First off, some nasty CHEMTRAILING was ongoing yesterday, Wednesday, especially out to my east over the water. I was not there, but I was out and about, Mizz buttwipe Jennie Plageman Crappants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to purchase a few things, I got a BOGO BREYERS ICE CREAM rain check from my local Fort Pierce Publix Store, as they were out of my flavor, Mint Chocolate Chip, cannot escape it can I, just as Scylla said, huh boo and Letty???

Then I purchased a few dollars of junk at the Good Will Store and the Staples, and yes, that WAS easy, just as THEY say, ''BUT'', time is a strange little duck, and I know my blogs discussed that fuzzy 'in-between place', nice to hear that my pal Morgan and his pals are starting to catch on in the great mighty Scientific Community. Totally unescapable initials, all the way around, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, SKY!!!!!!!!!!

I also bought just a few other whittle grocery items, that I needed, for the rest of good old hot as hell fire cubed AUGUST. Yes sir/mahm, good old month number eight. A total of four very young lovely females were very freaking flirtatious with me and would not stop staring and smiling at me, both inside the stores, and outside while walking in this outside large shopping mall at Virginia Avenue and Federal Highway US-1. This is because of relentless attack now that just will not ever back off for a week or even 3-5 days, and eventually, this Harry freaking Pottery mysterious parallel event just kicks in every single time, just give it sufficient time and no matter how old and ugly I am, and my photo is up for the world to see, and it basically is still a 100% likeness to me as I have not changed any since it was taken; but I seem to never stop getting these wild days of what I will admit to not being all that polite and gentlemanly in my description of this crazy never ending event, ''PUSSY-COMMAND''. I really honestly fail to know what else to describe this as in politer terminology and verbiage. It just perfectly fits and describes the situation that I have noticed now since about 1991 if my memory is clearly in tact, and operational; as it normally is with most things; when the great 'TAWF' is not involved, with their supernatural powers of countless bizarre unexplained mysterious contacts since the year of Lois Foca 1980, and that is possibly a fallible time illusion, as this situation goes far beyond anything that anyone on this planet could ever realize. I am screwed before I pick up the nail box folks, because a less famous than the Bermuda Triangle is part of all of this horrific bullshit. It is the enlightenment/genius/insanity triangle, as indeed, these three items when at their maximum, exist as three points in an insuperable triangle, no matter who may challenge this truth. Oh, and I did not make that up, should this by chance lend any additional credibility to that statement. If I cared the least little bit, I could have at least one if not more of these very super red hot young flirtatious dishes that were chasing me, kitty-kitty; as my personal girlfriends. However, fighting the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is a full time job, and my interest in women has never ever gone beyond the hour and day thing,m and wow, I honestly cannot believe that I just typed that and plan to blog it, on this no-no date, and if this won't cause you a heart attack, Morgan Freeman, old pal, sir; I honestly do not know what will, so careful, steady, take an aspirin and a nice cool drink of water, and just relax and breathe, should you be reading these words ever. I really love your television show on the Science Channel, 'here we go again', ALL KIDS, old and new! Super super super INGRID WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Major Complaints will be told to AT&T, about my not being able to talk on the phone, with my buddy Mikey; without continuous loud beeps. I never had this problem before adding their dam ass internet to my service and changing from Comcast. On my old plan, as with always, I have no trouble canceling my CALL WAITING. They will not even allow the flash to work on my phone or the star 73 or whatever it is, nothing works to stop this harassment, yet I pay these mother fucking bastards and ON TIME every month, and this is what I get from peeps that have their stock trading on WALL STREET and are on the DJIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I asked 'GAWKY GAUKAUK' why Tuesday was so mother fucking SUPER SUPER BOTBAR, and WOW, I got the PCN of 871, my own PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER (PCN). All really loyal MORIANS know many of the already listed PCN-871 listings from my match-book list, as I have posted them to my blog, and many may very well know a lot of them that I have yet to uncover myself, WHAAAAAAAAABIT!!

My dirtball nabes across the mother fucking 'HALL', are beyond nightmarish, horrible, evil, twisted, and mysterious. I know they have a drug gang, as peeps are continually in and out of the apartment all night long, not all nights, but some nights, and this night is one of those nights, gee I wonder why, Bob McDowell Phonetape Calendars of 1973, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So what reason in all possibility could the Fort Pierce Housing authority, have against running that drug dog up and down the HALL, as was suggested by my resident manager, Mrs. Maratto? Well, I bet I can think of one or two or three thousand and seven, starting with the Warren-Boo Hood connection. Lots ODF folks are so ignorant to the truths about Florida and the great '95' or AKA DRUG ALLEY. All the towns on the east coast where the great highway of grant-glands is on, have real bad drug hoods. It is a serious out of control problem, people are being shot every day all over, and when I first got down here in December of OHM-9, this was not anywhere this bad, more TAWF-TIME-TRICKS, and for future reference, we will shorten and abbreviate this term I just made up right now, to 'TTT'. O know my nightmare will happen, you all know what it is, I GET STABBED HERE IN FLORIDA. There's no escaping this sealed fated fucking destiny. I don't die, but that's because I cannot die and stay dead, Duma Argon. Thanks for getting me into all of this, BUDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to lose your head over it, I am just up set tonight, and sick and fucking tired of this 30-60 year TOTAL HELL!

THANKS FOR HELPING ME RON WIRTZ, PAM BONDI, AND ALL YOU LOVELY CREEPS IN MY VERY DISHONEST GOVERNMENT. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT'S PLAYIN G OUT, AN D IT'S NOT THAT YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT, BUT IN TRUTH, YOU WILL ALL BE GLAD TO BE RID OF ME SOMEDFAY WHEN WOMO FINISHES THE JOB ONCE AND FOR ALL. BAD MISTAKE. THAT IS JUST WHEN MY WRATH WILL BEGIN ON THIS PUNY LITTLE ASS PLANET, THE SECOND I AM MURDERED AND STAY DEAD. SCREW ETERNITY, I WILL HAUNT YOUR EVIL WORLD WITH UNSPEAKABLE DISASTERS FOR A MILLION YEARS UNTIL THE NEXT ASSHOLERLOID SMASHES YOU ALL OUT WITH THE DAM DINOSAUR'S. I have been patient and waited this out for a very long time, mortally speaking, cosmically a water drop in the Pacific Ocean. Still, my patience is not running thin, it has totally run out. All I have to do my wonderful enemies, is just keep dubbing transdimensional songs back and forth, and you will see shit around you day after day that will make you come and beg me to back off. All I'm doing is asking you all nicely not to push shit with me to that point. YOUR FREAKING MOVE, the ball's in your cock knocking courts!!!

555555555555555555555555555

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 00161. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! August 15, 2013, 3:42 AM-EDST, TUESDAY NITE.

Shortly past 8 of the mother fucking ass clock tonight, my scum bag nabes begin to persecute me, and indirectly, did me a huge favor, verifying something Resident Manager Debbie Marotto told me as well as helping me to reach a conclusion regarding something that happened shortly after their cunt eating arrival here near the 2011 Christmas helliday-holiday season, where they called me the ''radio singer'' out in the hallway, but I'll admit to not being totally sure how the two universes came together; and this was told about and blogged, shortly after the incident, in some full detail; but we'll reexamine fucking shit again now.

First off around half past seven or so, strange loud annoying fucking sound began to emanate from not the normal place; yet it all does connect in many strange and powerful fucking ways. I don't need to blog the entire situation as it is not relevant to the shit I want to tell you all about with tonight's major nasty neighborhood fucking attack with these hip hop ghetto fucking ass thugs. The fucking jerk offs above me are in some way, also in communication with that bitch across from me, and lots of doors are still slamming away as I type this message now at ten past nine, and tomorrow, I'll be speaking to Debbie Morotto personally at her office here in the building as she is here normally on Wednesday's, SLAM BANG BOOM; it is a real bad fucking attack here, Pam Bondi, Florida Attorney General; but you ain't fucking heard diddly squat yet, YO!!!!!!!!!!! First off, I knew the market would fly today as it did, and I also knew lots of shit was about to begin, and more yet will be coming, and you do not need to mother fucking be some rocket asshole scientist to figure out why, merely someone with a memory and a pair of eyes, and a calendar hanging up on one of your god dam fucking ass walls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A simpleton sitting in a torture booth inside a Hitler Oven, could recognize what is going on, and even why recently I have watched my viewing audience dwindle down to about 30 percent of what I had for most of this year of 2013. When they know you have enough stuff to prove really far out fucking shit, EVEN THE WOMO BEGINS TO FUCKING GROW A BIT CONCERNED, YO DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes there's one hell of a fucking Richie Ryan 1406 Cinnaminson, New Jersey 1984 party going on around me tonight, but that is nothing; not next to what I am about to tell you all, BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First off, I never told you all the shit about how to pull off a lot of these parlor tricks in time, and I also never told you what I saw in 2022 while being the parent of some cheer leader daughter who I have never seen before in all of my hyperspace travels, so it is not real localized hyperspace that I was moving in where that wild Google-Repair computer program was running, and wiping out hacks on a computer in the den of one of my more distant hyperspace doppelgangers. I told you I saw the computer and knew exactly what was going on, and I saw the calendar that read the year 2022, but I did not tell you that after my wife and I had removed the latest hack that was inside of the machine, we went to the website that is now defunct here in this universe, but that I had up for two years, called, ''Morianity-Foundation''. After we had gone there to post something up, we went to a private site that we owned, where we stored some information about our roulette playing, and this was my occupation over there ever since 1986, when I began playing it professionally over here in this parallel reality. The only difference was that over there, I was never wiped out by a WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, and was still playing. We had designed and built four strange machines, kind of androids, that were permanently affixed to wheelchairs, manikin type hollowed out bodies with a very super advanced robotic program running them. The wheelchairs allowed them to be mobile, and extremely life-like face masks were molded over the manikin faces. They had thick eyeglasses made with large frames, wig hair, and looked and passed for humans. They spent their entire lives in casinos all over the world, just playing a roulette system that I will not talk about right now. It is way too fucking major and beyond believable. To say it kicks royal mother fucking ass is a major clit chewing understatement. Then every few days, they take the winnings and wire transfer them into a secret offshore bank account in the name of my wife and myself. In this other universe, I remember my wife's name, it was Merinda. Her maiden name was Hall. Now before going on further, she was telling me how many things were not being properly recalled by another me who 'she met in a strange way, by recently experienced powerfully lucid dreams'; an exact quotation. I came to learn she was talking about the year of 1969, and my pal Brad Messenger, his girlfriend Diane, and also, another friend of his and neighbor, Cindy, and also, Roseann. She was reminding me how the great comedian of the times, Rodney Dangerfield, used to call his apartment, and ask for Brad's mom, Grace. When I got talking to her about how once I answered while Brad was taking a crap, and it was as though it was all cosmically arranged, as he wanted to warn me not to go to Atlantic City that summer, to stay away from the shore, to quote him exactly, and how a lot more was involved in all of this, right down to the movie that he went on to star in eleven years later in 1980, with the initials of Sarah Callio. All I am safe to tell and say right now, is that this all connects up to what I'm gonna' tell you all next, even though you may scratch your heads and say to yourself, how can it possibly; only it fucking does; so trust fucking me, YO! When Ann King said to me, a year and a half ago and then a little; that she sent me several cassette tapes, as well as CD's; she really did, and that indeed; 'BOO' somehow who was instrumental in getting these hip hop thugs into that apartment across from me; and then had them somehow pay off the mail carrier, to accidentally deliver the package to their slot, as in this building, if something sent to a resident is bigger than the normal mail slot, the key to a numbered large-box of which there are about 10 of, down a hallway on the first floor, is placed into your mail. The key is numbered, so you simply use it to retrieve your package and then when you close the box, the key remains attached and only the mail carrier has some way of removing it. It is quite a clever little system for a rat-hole place like this. My daughter has caused me nothing but grief ever since 2008 when she made it unmistakably clear to me through her music project, that something was going on, and then as time went on afterward, came all the fucking dreams, and then the eventual kidnapping by her distant family relations, the Kings, and others behind it all as well. What was done to me is beyond unforgivable. What still is being done to me is unforgivable squared. And all of it together is nothing less than criminal, and yes, my rotten filthy cousin Donald is involved in it all up to his eyeballs, and has been since this all began in 1984, reverb added to monster tunes or NAUT, Miss AT&T BLAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In closing for now folks, I will be leaving this evil rotten mother fucking country within a week, and you do not need to know one more fucking thing. Before I do leave, the story of my mother will be printed up and Morianity will end forever. Thanks for nothing for helping me out, Attorney General Bondi, and President Travelama!!! You see peeps, when they have all the power, and you have none whatsoever, basically, and in a total nutshell,

YOU ARE TOTALLY SCREWED!

THIS IS A RE-POST COPY ON MY OPEN OFFICE W.P.

WHY SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE???

“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”

(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951

I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is really part of a hyperspace equation from the year of 2022. SLAM-SLAM-BANG-BOOM; AND AT MIDNIGHT PLUS ONE, I CALL 911. THIS IS A MAJOR FUCKING PILE OF PIG SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MORIANITY PART FIVE, CHAPTER 00161

THURSDAY, 15 AUGUST, 2013, WHAAAA.

A lot of shit is happening, both in real time, as well as inside of my own self. I have come to remember a few things that I've been suppressing for a very long time.

I was awakened to a very sore throat a little while ago and along with this, began to uncover some powerful memories about Roseann Delaney. But that can wait for right now. She is the reason that I tried to hatch a plan to construct something that I labeled as 'Timeless Satellite', right shortly after my first encounter with this extremely beautiful teenaged girl; right around my age, at least in appearance; and again, Jim Rockford, we can get back around to all of this later on as it does indeed fit quite perfectly into all of what is going on both now, and for decades of time as well; but I'm moving this on for now, and we will come back to all of these topics.

The majority of my audience has left me. I was getting an average of 130 daily page hits for much of this year of 2013, up until the summer time came in, when it started to suddenly slow down and down and down, and right at a time where I am able to tie stuff together and prove all of the claims made all these years now in my Morianity. Also, my asshole nabes slammed in late, after 11, but were quiet after that, and now this morning, a few doors are banging out over the past twenty minutes from now, give or take, at 8:10 this morning. I'll get days of totally one thing and then days of totally another thing around here, there is absolutely no way to predict or get any kind of a handle on the activities that go on around this crapper hole, passing for a life dwelling. So, my computer is about to get packed up and stored along the wall with much of my other stuff, and I will just be taking off into the night and vanishing out of view with nobody the wiser, at least around here. It will all go down when all of you, here and there, least expect it. I will not tell any of my plans, as it only serves to weaken my position with my WOMO-MILITUFORCE ENEMIES.

What I will say is that the answer to all my searching for truth about so many things all of my adult life now, and especially since my mid-life began at around age forty; was as most powerful things always are; right in front of the nose on my face. It has always been around the great one and only Irish teenaged love of my life, ROSEANN DELANEY. All her type, and we certainly are not speaking of national origin here folks, in legend anyway, have this strange and peculiar power, to make other peeps forget things. I, unlike any or at least the great majority of any of you, have not received my information second hand, I was right there. But since peeps do not understand, nor can they seemingly reach an enlightened enough point so as to properly believe in, the truths of exploratronics and hyperspace; would instantly ask me such things as, I thought Paula King rang your doorbell in the daytime. She did. That does not mean, Roseann Delaney, dead and asleep to the world, cannot be inside of her and in a domination mode as opposed to a recessant mode of dream-control. Even 'this type' entity, has exploratronic capabilities, perhaps, their abilities are tuned far greater and higher than those unlike themselves. So if I say that an exploratron traveler did such and such, the actual physical person may be anyone from Joe Doe to Jane Payne to Mark Bark to Joan Bone. They are not even aware for the most part that they are doing something. Ed Lynch and myself certainly were not aware that Bob McGuire was standing right outside our automobile, that he had crossed over Tennessee Avenue from the north side over to the south side where his hotel and bar was back in 2006, and had approached my automobile at the side where Ed was sitting, the front passenger's seat. We never even knew that he was there. Our memories had been blotted out entirely. Yet we had been photographing the area that day for the website called Morianity-Foundation; and when we went to get the CD print out of those photos, at the Eckert Pharmacy in Berlin, New Jersey, a short time later; and examined them; there he was, just as plain as day; that look of Irish anger in his face, his fists all clinched up in a fight mode; yet for what reason I wonder? We could not even see him there. Still, he knew that our photographs would reveal all of this, and obviously this was another 'THAT-FAMILY' tactic of scaring us off; with this wild esoteric parlor trick, and only one in the family bag of so many. Roseann is family also. The Delaney branch has two possible close-in relations to the cousins of a cousin in the family of actress Maria Shriver, family through marriage, which a lot of these peeps are, and no ancestry dot com is going to ever know all these details, only the great Mormon Church has all of these secrets, and only if you personally are pals with Elder Hair, will you stand a prayer of learning all of these things.

Now for an opening about Roseann Delaney. I met her in 1967, at the very next week, after a lot of her friends from Atlantic City, all decided to gang rape me. I was only twelve and a half years of age, and old enough to appreciate that these were ravishing lovely teenaged girls of about the age of sixteen, back in late June in 1967, and had become friends of my first cousin, Sandy. This is the real hurricane that blew my life into the hellish situation that it later all became, and was every bit as destructive. Also, my Cousin Sandy was only there at the great Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, because her mother insisted that her sister in law, who was my mother; take her along with us, that one time out of the eight times, that we vacationed there; from the summers of 1965 and 1968 inclusive, twice per season. There were 4 prior stays and 3 after stays, from this one time with Cousin Sandy. She had a boyfriend named David at the time, right before she met her later to follow fiance' and husband of the future, named Timothy Letterman. Also, her mother, my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, was personal friends with the Shah of Iran at that time, back in 1967; very good friends, may I add. For reasons way too complicated to even try getting into on any one blog; I came to learn in the 21^st century, that all of this was part of a global plot to plant me smack dab in the middle of this family, way back then; so that many monstrous things could then happen. I don't trust any of these dam lizards, but hay, I could be wrong; and maybe there is indeed some great and wonderful outcome that sprouts out of all of this someday, and I am just to limited in my horizon vantage point to see it, unlike the Almighty Goddess, SSJK.

All I can say for sure right now, are a few simple facts. My life is on some wild course that all the power in the world seems unable to interrupt. Also, it is physically impossible for me to ever take a clear photo and in its entirety, of the magical home at 30 South Plaza Place, in South Atlantic City, New Jersey; and that there are members in this wild family who have the power to totally wipe out your memories of recent events about them or things that they may have just done to you or told you, as this has happened to both me and others with me, on numerous occasions.

In my opinion, Roseann Delaney is the one who has done all of this to me, and even peeps like my daughter and others close within my family and her family, may have had their memories all blotted out, or at least scrambled in various amounts and degrees. As for my rape in the hotel while my cousin acted as the lookout and my mother was up on the boardwalk getting them all some drinks at the salt water taffy place known as Frailenger's, it was half past nine at night around the 27^th of June of 1967, and all that Roseann would have had to do, was to influence these girls to all do this to me, from some place nearby, possibly right there at the Trinidad Hotel (Trinity) if this had all taken place in South America. I realize that lots of events seem jumbled and ridiculous, but the entire truth would take me a million long pages to write in some kind of a perfect order, so don't expect that any time soon, good folks. I have not heard this many early morning slamming fucking doors now for ages. Between this and the terrible throat attack, I know I am under a real problem here, AG of Florida, mahm, Mizz Bondi.

Also, my Channel-12-Weather-Bug has been totally hacked now for a week. The camera shot is stuck at one time and location, and the weather map never shows any color-key conditions, and the lightning position system appears down as well, FCC, BOB MCDOWELL, sir, and old pal from 1972. For those who are fans of the Chris Bennett/Chester Perkowski Comic-Hero World of so-called fiction characters even including those supernatural beings, many do exist, and I realize that, Roseann being definitely one of them, yes this is true, despite the poo-pooing of Sally Starr and her friend the professor back in freaking 1998. How we both were wrecked and ruined for messing with any of these powerful Scott Ransom people back in that time, some ten years after the comment made to me indeed, by the illustrious Mister Scott Ransom about my powerful angry enemies, the 'Disgruntled Ones', the day that I bugged up my automobile and got him talking about him and his boss Kelly Jackson, of Jackson and Jackson Realty. Originally in 1983, Kelly was employed as a real estate agent at the offices of Dixon and Dixon. The reason they are disgruntled is because I made a stink about Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb ripping off my music arrangement on a 1980 song I had written called, ''LOST LOVE''. They even got the Copyright Office in on their little scam somehow, changing the date from 1980 to 1981 on my stuff that I sent down there as one package and one musical project. You all have seen the paste in of my copyrights page. No need for posting it again now. Rapping this up, the Delaney types, do not bite outside on the neck, and the one time my lovely Roseann did this to me on the night of the fourth of June, Wednesday, back in 1969, outside my apartment on Pyle Avenue without any space journeys or saluting going on in the mix of all this horrendous garbage; this was just a big 'hickey', no not a hockey, nor were the Philly Flyers involved, although folks, the Jersey Devils used to practice just out beyond this area that is being discussed, and then moved up north into the Meadowland-Area, and the newly formed Flyers came over to us; but more importantly, maiden names and symbolism, tell me that Yogi Berra said it better than all of us, ''Some things are too coincidental to be a coincidence''. Now you see why I needed to be stopped and blocked and sanctioned or said differently, ''made to go anti-viral'', by the World Owners, on my Youtube Account. Still, an interesting PCN for MY YOUTUBE MUSIC, right, number 550, as in 'December-2009', as well as 'Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King', and yes; many many many others, lovely Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes this was one big painful bite in the neck, but that was all it was. When Mizz Delaney wants to really do her thing, to put it sixties style; she is like a lizard. You get this lovely wonderful awesome French-kiss. Then when her tongue is in the back of your throat, like jelly fish, she has a special tongue that sucks blood right out of your capillaries that are all over that deep area in the throat. You have no memory of it or very little, and also, she has been doing all of this all of this time, and is why this all happened in 1969 first, then later on when she came to me in 1983 one night while I was watching a movie in my living room about some kids trying to make a recording of a song they had written, calling it a real monster tune, I remember that night with full clarity, despite this being over thirty years ago; only I do not remember anything other than a hazy quick appearance of Roseann while my mom went to the toilet to help stink up the Septic plant, just long enough to take care of bizz. Only this attack left me damaged forever, in more ways than one, and only one doctor and one great lab technician know, but will never tell. A child can see what all the implications would be for finking on this just to help pathetic little me out. So of course, that will never happen. Yeah, I don't know either, great wonderful Lab Technician Scylla. Oh my poor poor pitiful lymph glands, from here to Lake Champlain, Louisiana, huh Katrina. Yes, they have built their own Magnesonic and totally stopped all my lovely great storms!

B---U---T NOT FOREVER. I HAVE COUNTER PLANS TO GET THEM GOING ALL OVER AGAIN IF THIS SHIT DOES NOT STOP, YOU ROTTEN SICK TWISTED EVIL PRICKS.

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 00161. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

August 15 2013, 3:49 ANTE' 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 4^th 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 15^th 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 5^th 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 56^th birthday back last year on the 4^th 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 21^st 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!

NOT THE END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:

MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 00121

9:35 POST MERIDIAN, 8 JULY, 2013, MONDAY EVENING

*Thursday, April 19, 2007*

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN FROM THE HEAD MORIAN-----041907.645
I sittith here not at Ed Himacane's, but @ Eddie Himacane’s place, on this Thursday morning.
MESSAGE 2 THE EPITOME OF JAG OFFS AND THEIR DAUTS:
I have not been web logging 4 a week, and there is so much 2 say, there will in no way B time today 2 tell 2 much of all of the details. I certainly should not need 2 say that, precisely as I predicted, every single day, there is FULL EVIL EMPIRE, FULL EVIL EMPIRE, FULL EVIL EMPIRE, FULL EVIL EMPIRE, and U know the rest, MORE FULL EVIL EMPIRE, meaning simply, UP & LOSE, UP & LOSE, UP & LOSE, and U get it, UP AND LOSE, PHILLIES LOSE, LOSE, LOSE, LOSE, LOSE, and the DOW JONES STOCK MARKET INDUSTRIAL 30 STOCKS, UP, UP, UP, UP, UP, UP, UP, UP, and yes , I presume Dr. Livingston that U get the picture, UP, UP, UP, AND UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I am just crazy and do not know what I am talking about when I tell the world public about PARALLEL EVENT TECK, then Y am I always right, between 80 and 100 percent of the time? First, let me ask any of U this simple question, do U have a personal stock broker that can accurately call the market like I can, yeas or freaking no??????????????? Do U have a pal that can tell U what to place book with your bookie on, and know the mob won’t ever break your legs, except possibly because they think U have inside info and want in on it, and won’t take no 4 an answer. If I can prove myself like I do, and there certainly is no IF about it, then Y will no one listen 2 me? Notice how the BON/BORN problem that started a nightmare hell death siege last week 4 me, when I was trying 2 finish up my last blogging, TWIMCFTHM--#10, mixed in with that astral plane unidentified aircraft that was taking Ed’s roof off? Well it ended up posting up on the BLOGGER site, as BORN, did it not? Don’t tell me about Machine-Mind is not a reality, but it is all only and merely an integral part of a larger picture thing that is happening to all of us in the human race, and what is this? ETTOS!!!!!!!!!! ELECTROMAGNETIC THOUGHT TRASNSMISSION AND OMMISSION SYSTEM, an influence and domination system over the human mind and behavior, done with electromagnetic technology, via properly accessing the EMS [ELECTROMAGNETIC SPECTRUM]. Remember, it may sound nuts and 2 far out 2B true, but if U went back to your 4th grandfather’s day and tried 2 tell your own family about jet aircraft, internet and computers, super highways and automobiles, cellular phones and worldwide communication taken 4 granted as second nature, they would have been frightened of U, and have U committed to psychiatric facilities, B them a tower room in your own home, or a more public facility. Things happening all around us R all done 4 a reason. The UFO-PLANE that harassed me while attempting 2 blog, followed me home after I posted my #10 blog up to www.blogger.com and flew loud and low passes over my pathetic whittle residence, all night long, I was just about 2 call the State Police, but I know better, and U all know Y. U cannot beat these horrible harassing evil bastards. They damaged tape recorders, amplifiers, head phone sets, electrical wiring knocking out my outdoor night lights, and on and on. I will never again set foot in a CIRCUIT CITY STORE. This is not the first time they would not honor an extended product warranty that I took over to their Deptford, NJUSAESMWG store. They had me drive over about half a year back in 4-D for computer assistance with their “rip-off” FIREDOG crap, only IO drive many miles over, just 2B told, “no, we will not help U after-all”. They did not have even the basic decency and courtesy to telephone me and save me the trip, and they had my contact number, and on top of that, not even an apology was given. Any one that would go to this place, goes there IMHO, @ their own risk. This is based on my experience with them. Someone got into my residence and broke the plastic frames of the headphone set. They do not honor this type of damage, and I buy extended warranties because somebody always damages my property. It was not me, and they must have thought that I was the one who was reckless and or careless. So I cannot totally blame them, yet I am still the one getting totally, as always, screwed.. So notice how the full evil empire of Phillies losing and Dow up and flying, (original version got fucked up here and skipped out) Stratford, NJUSAESMWG started on the very next day following my attack just shy of when I finished up writing #10, my prior blog. They have me to endlessly persecute and illegally harass covertly, endlessly getting away with far worse than cold blooded murder, and the PET goes right into action, EVERY FREGGIN’ TIME.
MESSAGE TO THE PEE CLUB:
Pneumatic is a word, whether I spell it correctly or not, meaning [to do with air and air pressure], and symbolically, the word doth not beginneth with the letter [N], as the sounding out of this word may indeed imply, but rather with a [P]. Now both the names PAULA and PAUL start with letter P. I already caught Paula letting air out of my 1997 Plymouth Breeze, back in 1998, when I came out of a Stratford, NJUSAESMWG hospital, the John Fitzgerald Kennedy Hospital, on Laurel Road, after her friend Sarah put my mother in there where she entered flatline, and I come out with my moms boss Thomas Spears, and there is big Paula, letting air out of my tire, something she has done 2 people since she has been a little girl, if U can imagine a six foot ten inch giant ever being a “little” girl. The most recent air let out could B her, or someone else sending me a message not to tell his son the ‘wedding truths’. I know it was one of the 2, and my proof is the symbology in the names starting [P], with the word pneumatic. Jack McCoy is onto [COINCIDENCES], as am I. JJMC is really a phase 4 being, a banker from Ricktown, in our capitol city of Akoslem. He snuck onto Ricktown Manor and was looking in at me counting some money that I was going to give my father to start up a diner chain in Akoslem City. Admitantly, not all of the money was totally clean, and he smiled in at me letting me know that he had the goods on me, so fine, I owe him one whenever he chooses to call in a favor. Don’t even get me started on my dad and his diner chain, a story that would take eons to tell, along with his Bourbon Wing at the Ricktown Manor. There is lots 2 discuss, and these events on the astral plane, as with them all, fall in no particular order by our mortal world way of perceiving linear time. Put another way, I may B flying around SDK with the great SSJKK and watch her go onto the beach and fly her giant kite. If I fall asleep as me [Mountainpen] and retrieve astral realm 6th dimensional memories of these interactions back in fifth dimensional hyperspace or my life physically in this particular universe, it may B at the very end of my Mountainpen life here on the Earth-worlds, when I pull down so to speak, my next interaction that continues on from where the ‘dream’ so-to-speak left off. Pillar and Berman understand the principle of this, the STAR TREK NEXT-GENERATION writers; they prove this 2 me, in the movie they made, with the 2 Captains of the Enterprise, called GENERATIONS; from the middle 19 nineties. Remember, their concept of the astral world that they refer 2 as the NEXUS, is the balancing counterpart of all of the multiverses of physicality. There may be googalplex's of universes in the multiverse, but they all have the same shared astral realm that balances out the upline thought wave that is the reason that it all exists. Mortal man will not grasp in general population, what is going on, but GENERATIONS, the movie, proves beyond any doubt 2 me that at least 2 so called [Earthlings], do indeed grasp what I discuss. The exact same [never aging] Milituforce crafts all started up this thing, whatever it is with me, in the 1985/1986 era when I was at my closest point of breaking out of my sin-debt royal-family-curse, see the Christian scriptures and KJV of the Holy Bible, and all prior blogs to this one written by me. Believe me, my sanity is not in question, I am not a madman, the quiet type R the ones that go off and get violent, I always have and will B a total advocate of remaining non violent, and changing social policy through votes and the spoken word, such as blogging, letters to editors, and along these lines. Those that live by the sword will die by the sword. The minute God as U like 2 call her, was removed early in the 1960’s from the schools, what came instantly in to fill the vacuum and balance, but drugs and guns and violence and mega hate. Hay, I have my hates, and detest evil scummy sin and sinners too, but they need 2B brought to repentance, not shot to death 4 trying 2 receive an education, and anyone whom laughs when I have been saying for the gods know how long now, that this world of solid up chuck is going to Dogtown in a hand basket at warp 14, has a weird and despicable sense of humor, in my books. Anyone who knows me and knew me since I entered this satanic physical world, knows that I hate injustice, evil, sin, wickedness, rip offs, con artists, and would just love 2C lots of rotten bastards rotting away in prison 4 many many a long year. People have it so screwed up, you know, bible text, what the All Mighty wants of mankind, the whole dern ball of wax. Any sovereign nation and governing body is authorized by the great one who personally told this to Moses, that certain laws R2B adhered 2, and most of the civilized world does indeed base its rules and laws accordingly, based on the All Mighty’s [SSJKK] commandments. Personally, I think rotting in a vicious prison population is the absolute perfect punishment 4 severe law breakers, but 4 those that have this [death penalty issue], just do not take the time 2 look at the Mosaic Law. The King is authorized to take the lives [execute] those that commit vicious crimes, it does not violate absolute law. The King is the same thing as any sovereign nation and kingdom and government. They do not have the power to kill just as a murdering individual does not have the power to execute. The bad guys do the murders, the Kings do the executions. Those that endanger all of us with their violent actions, should B sent 4 immediate processing in Sahasra-Dal Kanwal, and taken off to Dogtown, out beyond the Great City. However, this is their destination anyhow, so keeping a rotten bad guy in the prison population until they awaken from their Earthly interaction, really adds to their punishment, so as Abby Carmichael would say so nicely on the show, “Law & Order”, either one works 4 me. There should not B all these complexities, whether it B taxes or the criminal justice system. Break the Law, get punished. I would spit right in any judges face right this minute who upon my conviction 4 a crime that I would commit 4 any reason, that would not bat an eye at imposing the maximum or close to the maximum sentence allowed by the law. It doesn’t matter if I went through hell and just went off one day, if U do the crime, U pay 4 it, it is just that SAMPLE!!!!!! Hay, this is only my opinion and my whittle 2 cents, now turn it into a buck, as my favorite EX-Senator would say!!!!!!!!! This is Y over and over I make it unequivocally clear 2 any of my potential readers what thee MORIANITY-FOUNDATION is all about, and it is NOT about the breaking of any of man’s laws, nor especially. The Great I AM’s laws. We now have a super hi-tek society, and it disappoints me in a major tragic way that we do not have more of a total PRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT, where all issues that effect all of us, cannot B voted on by by any and all legal citizens of the majority age, all of the issues, not voted on by a small group we elect. This worked great but it has outlived its usefulness, it is so yesterday. Every week, we should B able 2 turn on a machine in our home, B properly identified with eyeball recognition connected up to proper voter registration listing systems, and any issue any one of us wishes to go YEAH and NAY on, should B available 4 us 2 do, not just a few lifers 4 the most part on Capitol Hill. Once upon a time, it could B well argued that this would not B practical. Now, with all of our technology, my response is a copycat of something the Motown Queen said 2 me when she phoned up my house in Atco, NJUSAESMWG, NO-HOW,-NO NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We R all a potential voice, but never really heard properly, and society needs to change this, now that the teck is here 2B used. We all know the real reasons Y this is not about 2 occur any time soon. The multi-billionaire owners of this planet would never allow it, that is unless my foundation gets going, and true freedom can begin. Anarchy is anything but true freedom, Y should UB free to throw punches into my face? Too many laws is not the answer either, at the rate and curve we R going here in the USA, within 100 years, we all will need 2B taking turns playing guard half the time, and prisoner the other half of the time. Hell, we’ll all B locked up. No, it is society that is failing, and the gods only know, at a terrifyingly high rate of velocity.
MESSAGE TO KAREN S.
I found out U went on a little mini-vacation when I spoke 2 your office the other week. I will B trying U again by phone soon. U really have 2 admit, my predictions on Phillies losing and Dow markets flying is 100%+ on the $$$. Diana ZA takes good care of me, does she not. War and murder R2 different things, and if U carefully study scriptures, U will C how angry many astral powers R currently with the human race. The President of the largest religious radio outreach totally believes we started the great tribulation period in 1988, the year I wrote PROHET OF NOTHING, (C) Mountainpen. He studies many principles in biblical mathematics, and is very close to real truth, a man really after the heart of the great Sarah-Stacey. He says the period lasts 8400 days, the amount of years from now that we develop refusional atomic maticulation, put simply, a way 2 turn the clock back on dying stars. U all ready know that simple radio frequency turns the biological clock in reverse on a cellular level when north pole isolated integrenetrized multi-wave oscillation is used in conjunction with magnetic resonance imaging tunnels. Anyway, Y anyone would wish 2 remain here in physicality as opposed to dreamshiftallity, goes beyond me, as our true condition of existing in and as void infinity is a non changeable nightmare. Y would a sole wish 2 prolong an Earthly hell, even if they had every luxury and comfort imaginable. It is beyond my very limited intellect to crawl into their mentality. Every single day I beg Stacey to remove me from this, but she insists that I must do this Morianity-Foundation thing, B4 she lets me wake up out of this awful crap. No tribulation started not in 1988, but 2 years earlier in 1986, when this parallel event nightmare came into my life. Stacey runs a clock in her palace on Kanwal Avenue, on the 7th floor, in the great Yelabol Hall, near the Long Room, a place that I as Zeranniss Jones spend lots of time with my teen queen. This clock has settings that parallel mortal time in this part of 5th-D-HS, with the year of 1948, and the name on this clock is Judah-time. The nation of Israel was reestablished in 1948. She says that 3 score ten years is sometimes referred by her as one generation of mortal world interaction. This equals 70 years. Adding 70 to 2048 is 2018, and the President of this radio system believes our calendar 2B off by 7 years, making this really the year 2000, and 2018 would B 2011. I know 4 a true fact Karen, as she told me this on the Astral Plane, that the calendar is off by 2 years, NOT SEVEN. Indeed, in 2016, a major event occurs in much of hyperspace, this universe most likely being one of them, whether we move int the Sidereal Time calendar, by then or not. When we had our interaction that was connected into my waking world at the age of just 15, 7 months B4 the last time ever seeing her on the mortal world on the night of the seventh month and the 12th day, back in AD 1970, a connection between the physical and astral worlds happened that I have yet 2 really tell the mortals of this world about in its full and unabridged details. Subtracting 1970 from 2018 or in true year number compensating for time error, 2016 minus 1968, either way, equals 1,948, the year of the reestablishing of the Judah tribe, to which her special clock is set to, in ways she will not even tell her THAT BOY [dog]. She did tell me that Rick insulted her in front of her friends and Viqueen Gang outside of a soda shop, in her Great City, and after she picked Rick up and snapped him in half, she permitted the BRIGGBASE residents, or the 1/3 rd of the GMC that broke away from the governing other 2/3rds, to invade RICKTOWN, and remove the Earthly USA dollar equivalent of 500 trillion, held in the First Great Akoslem Bank, in Ricktown’s capitol city. Jack McCoy, a real living phase 4 entity on astral realms, is the Head Banking President. This is Y the greatest show since Perry Mason, entered into our physicality through the imagination of Mr. Wolf and other writers. Those unable 2 dream or project into life from the astral without breaking lawtronic systems, come in here as PHASE 4 ENTITIES.
MESSAGE TO WALL STREET:
One day and year U tell the little majority that oil and gas prices going up causes stock prices 2 go down, so how come when it goes the other way, U instantly say the street has a new and totally opposing explanation, just like years ago when interest rates were on an upward trend, and that brings stocks down so U say, yet UP UP UP. Every broker will tell anyone that interest rates down means stocks going up and vice versa, over long run time, and also oil and gas up translates to market down, and again vice versa, over long run time. This was always the case until I came along with this parallel event nightmare, in this evil TRIBULATION period. In the year of AD 1980 I noticed shortly into the tribulation, that the Phillies had their big world series win, not doing well until after my demo recordings were done and finding the HAIR album of Donna Gaines up in the attic at RPL, at my job. Finding an unknown work of a top artist when she was still a teen, was a wild and cool find 4 me. Also, I lived in a beautiful place with great solar exposure, had a nice car, bought a great stereo and open reel recorder, and many other machines that I put together in a cool way that allowed me 2 do my demo recordings better than at the studio. My life was a small amount of perfect, and next to what I had been used to, was freaking heaven. Boom, world series win, Dow at the bottoming part of a long bear market that was not 2 end until well into 1982, B4 the huge 18 year bull market came slamming in. I learned that the Phillies and I seemed to run a strange parallel event or speaking statistically, when they do good, way more than 50/50 I am doing good. When they R doing bad, way more than 50/50 I am doing bad. I then came to learn about 6 years later in 1986, that another 3rd parallel event was there, the one with the FLYERS ice hockey team. This explains a bit more detail of what I talk so much about, PARALLEL EVENT AND USING IT COVERTLY AGAINST SOMEONE. Crimes like using this intentionally to get blessed so to speak by cosmic forces, invisible wave-particle dualities of interactiveness that is endlessly escaping out of void infinity through astral and hyper-spacial physical dreams. These 10th dimensional existences based on prior EX-IM ratio prior uncreations, will endlessly escape out of void by creating interactions. They come down through lawtronics to become the 6th dimension, or the thought-world, the ECKANKAR MENTAL PLANE. They R more than willing to play endless games, it is the only way 4 them 2 distract themselves from endless existence, total absolute hell, and they will gladly, like a bored to tears child locked in his room and grounded, play with anyone, at any time, any game at all. To them, there is no good or bad, or any human thing, just the game to endlessly distract. For the people on this Earth realm that they wish to make totally miserable, it is as simple to do as 1-2-3. U would view what these entities do in your mortal logic as the usage of a [MOTIVE PROGRAM]. Someday, software will B available so that people will need 2 spend hardly any real tedious time at their computer, actually doing things. IE, U will tell your powerful new trinary based PC’s, cosmiputers, voltage low – medium – high, and no more voltage on and off, for example, I wish to run a business selling such and such a product line. The system will research all the best and optimal things available and best prices 4U to get into it, do all the work, and U basically command the system to do it, turn it on, or off, and that is it. Or for example, I want 2 become a lawyer, a doctor, a stock broker, a recording or TV star, whatever. It will do all the things that U now would need 2 manually do in a tedious step by step and very time consuming methodology. Am I saying that entities far ahead of us with motive programs, created this all, and all of us? No I am saying that it is as though this were the case. I am not giving U the double talk, the truth is that U cannot B told any more than this, this is the best and really, the only way 2 describe the reality of it all. This is Y Paula King follows me around flattening my tires, people make my life miserable no matter how hard I try 2B a nice guy and do the right thing. Starting at about the time the markets closed today on the Eastern time zone of 4 of the clock in the post meridian, I have fallen under a vicious air siege, crash level planes and choppers. Yet if it was checked out, patients needing a medivac chopper, or pilots being diverted to flying their planes buzzing over me at crash level, it all would make some sort of sense, the traffic controller gets a legitimate reason 4 telling the plane to move up or down or this way or that, B it weather related or any other reason, the only way 2 tell my story is using my COPYRIGHT PROTECTED MOTIVE SOFTWARE PROGRAM idea, yet it is not really a motive program from a computer of some advanced society with some sicko dude or dudes in it. It just, is as if this was what is going on. It is sort of like asking the forever and never answered all mighty question, where did the tenth dimension come from, all the particles and waves from the very first uncreation? Answer, at the risk of [adult playground rage] APGR occurring, is simple: All of it exists both above and below in a seemingly endlessly looping disk contained on the 11th dimension. So where did this come from? Simple, but watch that APGR, all of it exists both above and below in a seemingly endlessly looping disk contained on the 12th dimension, and yes, where did the 999999999999th stuff come from? It has endless ups and downs that loop together and curve into the 1000000000000th dimension. This is the truth. Why, why is all of this happening? Because it is, no simpler nor more complex answer is there. I did not say I do not have it, I said this is the answer. Lots of punches and pain have resulted in playgrounds, when a smaller kid keeps saying”WHY” every time a bigger angry kid asks a question. Trouble is that deep down, way under many layers of sub consciousness, U all know that the answer is that there simply is no answer, it does not exist, no secret beyond that is being intentionally kept back from any one of us by some invisible ‘gods’ or God All Mighty. That is all total fucking bull shit. Your 10% is guaranteed in long run play DJ, and with or without me. I am merely the tool that currently is balancing this system to do this. Over 10 years, there never will B a losing period in the 30 Dow industrial stock prices. It may B -6.3%, -12.7%, +3.3%, and any conceivable combination year by year, but it will balance out to +10% per annum until the market no longer exists. During the periods where true price is under-performing these percentages, the cosmic reality for an eventual compensation 2 bring it back to the normal 7-13% will always kick in, and concentrically, during the periods where true price is over-performing these percentages, the cosmic reality for an eventual compensation to bring it back to the normal 7-13% will always kick in. Every time the sun goes down, it will go back up at that point of the globe again, and every time the sun climbs up , it will go back down at that point of the globe. Sounds silly and simple, yet brokers and investors panic over and over, while I laugh at them, me, just a little nobody with nothing, but a powerhouse of knowledge. I know what I know, and what I do not know, I admit to it instantly and without hesitation.
MESSAGE TO LADY ROULETTE:
My entire oh-seven year has been ruined and wrecked by some cosmic organized conspiracy of totally demonic fucking hellishness, yet, by grouping 12 different randomly picked groups of 5 numbers on your wheel, and getting a total of times that they come out times 100 divided by total amount of total spins on all games, I can accurately beat the odds of 38 divided by 5, to one, by more than 20 percent. I consider it cheating 2 use this long one game system, but U have left me no choice. I have made 236 units profit in oh-seven using this, and on green quarters, that is over 5 grand, on triple black-bucks it is over 60 grand for 3.5 months of casino play, more than enough money for me, I am not greedy. U cheated me out of life, and that is not COOL, Cheated Out Of Life, totally un-cool!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have no cherce Mr. Archie Bunker, but 2 fucking cheat back!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TO THOSE WANTING TO KNOW WHAT IS MORE THAN MORTAL, BUT R2 CHICKEN 2 ASK:

Feel divinely blissful, think of your best few days U have ever had until it takes facial muscle to wipe the grin off your face. Keep feeling blissful as an incestrallite. Stay in this state of bliss, if anything bad crosses your mind, re-focus and stay blissful feeling and maintain this light trancy blissful condition, while laying flat on your back, alone, preferably without clothes, or loose and light ones if U must wear something. Room should B dark and quiet that UR laying in, on a comfortable bed. Their is a magic number that U must know is real, U cannot cheat your way out of it, this magic combination of numbers is 10 and 6, because astrally in base 8, this converts to 8 and 12, the mortal world combination when multiplying 12 with 8, to give the magic number of both 96 and its inverse magic number of 69, but knowing that is not of any importance 2U. Just the 10 and the 6. Ten times, you focus on a place U wish 2B, it could B the bedroom of a favorite rock star, or a secret lover, or the friggin Oval office, it does not matter. U must create a quick daydream starting with U in the place U wish 2B,m picture yourself to appear to a particular person and look any way U wish 2 look. Tell them your telephone number if U wish, do whatever U wish 2 do, but keep it short and sweet, and simple, as you need to repeat this a total of ten total timers. Now, after 10 times of doing this, U say silently to yourself, picking whatever time you wish be it 2 hours, 3 hours, whatever, “astral body, I command U2 leave me in three hours and go to the place I wish 2B”. This needs 2B done 6 times. This is the precise instructions 4 using the great mystical FASCITAR – 6/10 PROJECTION SYSTEM. This secret is known by few masters on this planet throughout mans total recorded history. Start by going 2 places UR familiar with, and remain on the PHYSICAL PLANE. Later on, visit me at Ricktown Manor, or go to Diana’s Code Cabin, read first about these places on my website, come to physical world place, www.morianity-foundation.com and then come and C4 yourself. Come to the great TECK BAY, and go to the MYSTERY SCHOOL and talk to the guru/mystic professors. Do not let fear fuck with U. Passing between life and death is scary to most mortals. Coming back here from there can B a bit unpleasant and scary, bad vibrations can occur, ignore it and get passed it, it is so freaking worth it, believe me. U cannot go to the great city, only to one of the gates, you will B stopped at the security gated system, and B required to show paperwork of a sorts, a CITY PASS. These are only issued to a rare few, and those with passes have registered city names, and this is registered in huge city museums along Salvation Boulevard. These huge scrolls R inside huge books under impenetrable glass type structures. Exploding galaxies could not put a dent in this material. Some do learn how to get and stay in this great city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, without proper authorization, but the great MILLIONTH COUNCIL knows UR there, and will eventually remove U, in organized rotations similar to the way America has border patrols, and occasionally has all out round ups of illegals, and escorts them out. Visit RICKTOWN, or any place U wish 2B in this great Olympian Province. U can go 2 other provinces on the astral plane, it is an infinite place of 6 directions that all go endlessly around and loop together in a huge hyper-spherical reality, that is real because U agree that it is real. Anything U do on the physical or astral plane is done with built in rewards and punishments, it is kind of hard to make U know Y this is so, other than 2 tell U that in the grand scheme of things, every victim of every evil deed gets their chance to BU and make UB them. This is why the greatest master of all of them, Jesus, said to love your brother as U love yourself, as all the laws and the prophets hang on this commandment. UR being good 2U by doing this, and the other way around, and this is hyper-spacial law. When practicing the 6/10 Fascitar, the average person will need between 3 and 6 nights to succeed. Once UC how incredible all of this really is, U’ll never let mortal man tell U it ain’t real, U’ll know that it freaking REAL. A,ll victims of Virginia Teck must realize that in all of hyperspace, each one has taken their turn being the madman. It is a limitless multiple worlds within worlds. When U do good, U do it mostly 2U. When U do bad, U do it mostly 2U. As UR punching that little fart in the bar next Wednesday night, and he is begging U2 stop, as U hit him with another barn-house, remember, zillions of universes exist right now in HS where that other little dude is U, and U are him, and it is U that is getting pounded 2 shit. U mortals think punishments can B escaped from, or that they need 2B inflicted on U externally by the gods, and UR sadly mistaken. Playing with the Fascitar 6/10 is cool as anything, but abuse this knowledge and you will wake up one day hating my guts more than if I took your wife and business and brutally hurt your family. You will cuss me out and try to look me up and cut my living guts out. Do not abuse this knowledge. Explore. Learn. Have a cool time dudes and duddesses, but do not say you have not been warned. If U want 2C4 yourself that dying is an illusion and none of the shit Earthers believe is even close 2 being true, then indeed, screw up your courage, take 300 grams of anti-wuss pills, and go the hell 4 it. Get past the fear, keep going past the fear, that valley of the shadow and fearing no evil stuff in scriptures, ain’t no lie. There is sort of a bad-vibe zone in the cross over process, don’t fucking wuss out, do it, and U will know then and only then, that all the claims that I have made on all of my bloggings R all real and completely true.
MESSAGE TO ATLANTIC CITY AND MY ENEMY BRIGGER LAMISTS, AND LEVY-ATHANS:
I am closing out today to say quickly and sternly that if I could not prove much of the stuff that some of U super scumbags have done 2 me, common sense must tell U ass holes, that I’d never have dared 2 start these blogs, and start 2 really tie the bag up, and show the multiverse what is going on. All the people and entities that have totally taken over and invaded this natural world and started us into this major tribulation and these totally sick spirit of these sick times, in 1986, are all caught in my PROOF system, and 4 now, this is all I am willing 2 impart 2 this present blog. Soon, there will B just no closets big enough 4 these child molesters and sacrificers to hide in, and I will prove the reason Y no new structures ever get built on Tennessee Avenue in the great ACNJUSAESMWG. Brown eyed Callio, I am forever watching U. My lovely Atlantic, U were so great with me last night, WO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!UNREAL!!!!!!!
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'To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian'

Monday, April 2, 2007

WHOM IT MAY CONCERN FROM THE HEAD MORIAN
#6 PRINTED THIS 2ND DAY OF THE 4TH MONTH OF THE OH-SEVEN YEAR
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A late good moanin’ to my Morians, and a major thank U to a group of persons who I recently realized R indeed helping me with my problems, secretly, but of course, that is the only real way at least 4 now, 2 safely do it, as no one wants my enemies 2 become their enemies. First, I was in another part of hyperspace, put more accurately, the me part of me here in this universe, was transported via dream-travel, we all do this every night and some remember more than others, some remember none such as Eddie H my web designer, anyway, anyway, I was the recessant in the dominant’s wakeful part of this transdimensional hyperspace or McCoo’s 5-D. My ex business partner, part of a tri-destruct parallel 4 me, as between Paula/Paula/Paul, the psychic, the giant, and the other giant who was my partner in SPR, anyway, we were walking in a mini-mall towards a Radio Shack store 2 purchase something, and the guys knew me in there and were expecting me and my partner. It was like pulling teeth, as all he did was smirk at me and would not utter one word when I persistently asked him why he did things 2 me since I moved into Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG. Just as here he would admit nothing. But I managed in hyperspace 2 break him down, after my final question 2 him that if he or his wife is ever reading these blogs, he will know exactly what is going on and how I can get answers 2 what I need 2 know, if not here, then wherever is needed 4 me 2 acquire the info. The question 2 him was, put more as a statement than a question, ''you will never tell me why nor admit it will you, to endlessly make me nuts, wow, a dude your size who can kick the crap out of 99.99% of your fellow man, and U cannot fess up, could it B that not ever telling is the actual deed, more than the deed done of itself?'' He grinned a full grin, his eyes turned from stone cold and just plain mean expression looking, and said in a quiet voice but not a shy one, 'yep'! Your secret is out Big Guy. Whatever I did during one of our phone ‘heated debates’, must have been when U decided to pull this bit of ingeniousness on me. Anyway, I looked at U over there in that parallel reality where U were only about 35 years old, and were 5 inches taller there than here, if U can imagine this, longer hair, worn differently than here where I knew U and was your partner. It was bright dark brown, and U had cowboy boots on, brown and red, cool man. Anyway, I looked in your eyes, stretching my neck practically into contortions, and said to you, ''UR intricate''. I said this over and over, and after 3 times, maybe 4, your expression grew nasty, and U focused your gaze away from my eyes, and focused it straight ahead again, with a glare that said it all, like U were saying,''screw ya, ya little shit head''. After we got into the Radio Shack, I looked at U one final time and said, ''you’re Einsteinian''. U really R bud, if this is the truth here in this part of 5-D HS, and I believe it is 100%, yes, UR FREAKING EINSTEINIAN”. Amazing how U can forget all I did 4U, somehow your mind is able 2 throw that large part of reality into some cosmic trash can. U can kick my ass all over and up and down the streets of Elm and Hammonton, but pal, after UR gone someday, junior will know where the wedding money came from. I think it’s only fair, and don’t fret. If the genes run the way they should, he’ll turn around and kick my ass 4 saying it. Fine, I’ll still feel a final vindication. I would not have cared if U had gotten 600 grand from me, it was the wedding money that I was pissed off about. A real 'he-man' who has more than fisticuffs to back him up, would have coughed up that lousy thousand, just so this now would never B able 2B typed. If it was me, I would rob a bank if I had 2, just to keep my testosterone circles in proper working order. If U cannot C this, well, cool, U did me a huge favor, and whether U believe it or not, I hope U win the powerball jackpot and own the country world someday. All I will ever say to anyone is the wedding story, but U’d B the big shot who could laugh and say, I never knew that little fucking shit. Remember, others have done that also, but as they well know, I keep paperwork, tapes, and everything; 2 prove that they can claim they never knew me all they want 2!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ok dude, yeah, sure, right.
Thank you to those reading my story of Matte throwing the huge heavy barbell out to block my way when I desperately needed 2 ask him about my Sarah. Levy told him to fuck me off. I was fooled like the rest of the world and put on my site the info I learned about Mister Green Beret Hero. Someone or something Captain, must have had their highly intelligent Mr. Spock check it all out, as over the weekend, Diana showed me how my website listed the info about special forces Robert Bob, www.morianity-foundation.com. I think it is discussed in the section called KRASSLEVILLE, apropos would U not agree?????? Shortly later, the lies story broke in the press. This shows me I do have friends. Hay Joann, Hi, how ya doing? Believe it or not, throwing him out may not B all that helpful 2 me, as I am concerned about a potential timeline that may get around 2 happening in my part of HS. There R places in the great hyperspace where around the end of this decade, and the starting of the next one; I will B working under him after things go real wrong 4 him as Mayor; and he is back on the beach as Chief Levy, my ex-body-surfing-buddy, until he shit all over me when I asked him about Sarah, who I know he knows well. All 'EM' people R in with utility personnel, and city workers; as both Sarah and her brother Frank indeed R. Let me come down there and ask about anything, B it to McG, the Mayor, Matte, John and Photeous at the next door to the CCC parking lot, or anyone, and it is like UR asking 2 rape someone’s underage daughter. They try 2 drown U in the drink, and wreck every aspect of your life. They got tax people on me, convinced a bankruptcy judge that I was trying 2 hide millions of dollars in some out of country bank or a strong box in the pines; Christ, I wish. They fucked with me when I tried to get into the public housing, and on and on, but it was all a favor in long run play, as living down in that city, 4 me, would B total suicide. No, Joann, I know that the mayor is quite shady, and I could tell U so much about so many of all of them; but am scared, as my only part time job which I need or I will starve 2 death and my enemies R determined to destroy me totally and completely. They were not afraid 2 start a vicious rumor about a lovely woman and once very good friend of mine, Sally Starr. No one better ever try to dispute what I tell, if I did not have evidence that would stand up legally in court, I would never dare say what I say and make claims that R outlandish against high profile people, I am not that dumb, nor insane. No there is a timeline, and it is coming around more with every passing day with events passing into the time flux such as SORA, Security Officer Registration Act, my firm being bought out by a huge outfit with numerous connections with entertainment and ACNJUSAESMWG, AND THE NUMEROUS TROUBLE SURFACING WITH Levy. If I end up on the beach as Lieutenant in charge of Beach Security, it will B after a nasty terroristic attack, and with this SORA deal, I will B under the direct chain of command of the ATLANTIC COUNTY EMERGENCY MANAGEMENT, which when Levy was Chief of the Beach Patrol in the summer B4 getting elected to Mayor, he during the winter was indeed the head of the EM for the Atlantic County, USAESMWG. Local powers R never 2B underestimated, they R far worse than any federal BFA’s, Black File Agencies, so covert that congress hands them money and asks no questions, and they can invade all of our lives, legally, 4 any reason, and monitor, even totally wreck them, should UB4 whatever reason, declared a domestic enemy of the United States. If he is over me, he will make my life beyond a living Dogtown, and will lead 2 a showdown. Neither of us want this, I don’t go down easy, and neither does Mayor L.
Message to all my lovely hawks and large black birds:
Thank U4 coming all around me with a giant flock, while I was doing my laundry in Berlin, NJUSAESMWG, back last week. Literally 50 or more giant hawks and buzzards came right 2 me and flew all over the parking lot swooping down on me while I called out 2 them. Thank U great Sarah-Stacey my love, for sending your birds 2 me. Please tell your cousin Diana, that I need her to go to certain places, that will cause her to come around me while I exist in this nightmare interaction. If she can just come and flash her beautiful colors and let me love her, I could survive, otherwise, I must try to kill myself with the Gamblers Express Train, it comes roaring along at 80 MPH, and all I need to do in the middle of the night is to walk down from any of the stations or cross walks, and disappear into some woods until the train comes along, and throw myself onto the tracks at the last minute, and crunch, I wake up out of this horrific and vicious dream nightmare. I know I keep trying and it does not work 4 me, but I will keep dying over and over until it sticks, or live trying. Even sufferers can make little pun jokes.
To the MAGIC ASTERISK KEMTRAIL OF DECEMBER 1969:
ASTERISK/KRASSLE, only the L or 90 degree angle is not in asterisk, all other letters interchange. Asterisks have 3 lines and 6 points, and 3+6=9, or 3-6-9- a number that police can relate to, right Frank, ol’ pal? Just imagine coming out of a dream where a girl takes a chain away from U, and when U wake up and check a strong box where U keep it in, U find 2 your astonishment that it is gone, vanished and houdini’d. Then U get on your bus 2 go 2 school, and a huge trail made by 3 jets, criss cross making a huge star in the sky, all bright white sparkling in a cold glistening winter sun, actually, it was the final 2 weeks of 1969’s autumn. It dissipated and was seen all over most of Camden County. I have not yet surface-scratched the full story of this chain, the real astral realities and phases of existences, and so much. I have not started getting really into TTH’s, [THIRD THING HAPPENINGS], as this ‘chain dream’ was one of these.
To the WEEKEND SIEGERS CLUB OF A QUARTER FUCKING CENTURY:
For nearly a fourth of a century, these Brigger scum make my weekends a pure hell, and remember the neighborhood attack that I blogged, where both of my boob ass neighbors fucked with me when I was coming home tired from a long shift at my job, both on Saturday and Sunday mornings, one on one, and the other on the other, yet never B4, nor since, did this happen, and I am 6 and ½ years at my current Hammonton residence, as I told the Division of New Jersey Taxation and homestead rebate department, in good old Trenton, NJ. I finally got my rebate, but proving I lived here a very long time, was pure hell. They did come through so I must say thank you, it is appreciated, I am drowning and need all the help I can get, it isn’t like I am going out tonight 2 the movies with some hottie on my shoulders. Those days ended 30 fucking years ago, all I am trying 2 fucking do is survive 4 crissake, doesn’t any one have a heart or any human emotion any more, is every one related to Vulcan Spock?????????????
Message to locals fucking with me:
I will blog what U did 2 me coming home both Saturday and Sunday, this was on the road stuff, not boob neighborhood stuff, but notice that with both cases, they do not strike on just one of the 2 days that I am coming home from my job, but on BOTH DAYS!!!!!!! Saturday they flash-mobbed me big time, tried to get Eddie H’s New York City newspapers at the wawa as I do on Saturday mornings, and the line, for absolutely no reason, was around the store and out the door, and parking was out to a block away. I walked in and saw this FLASHMOB, go to http://www.csi.com or click around with the CSI TV show sites, and type in flashmob episode, it is not made up fictional fucking shit. Anyway, I threw the papers down on the front area and stormed out, there is no fighting shit like this. Then coming home Sunday, a neighbor of Eddie H’s by no coincidence, fucked with me. He is some sort of local municipal honcho. He had red flags all over, and stopped me while a slew of biker dirt bags were supposedly coming. They come, then he signals 4 me 2 go and when I do, more of them come flying down from the intersecting street where he had me dead stopped, and nearly hit my car. If he had hit my car, my lawyer would have been on board real quick. When I asked him if I had permission to U-turn around, he said 2 me, “U can’t B in a hurry on a Sunday morning”. I just said,”I will wait”, and rolled up my window, but Y if this was not 2 annoy me, could I not simply turn my car around and gone down the block before to get to the same place? This turd illegally rides his little kid on his loud ass Harley blotorsuckle up and down Ed’s street over and over, while I am in here trying 2 do my blogging. Mr. McCoy of L&O, how much of this would U believe is coincidental and not intentional harassement if this was happening 2U, and your show was real life, come on, I ask you, send me an e-mail or comment, would U believe it, ‘cause it is not the way U operate on the TV show.

Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 8:54 AM

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Not entirely true, I am commenting up here 6 years in the mother fucking future, good believers. Does anything ever really change, FOR ME anyway??????? If this was not all real, how could I ever keep all these lies and fish-tale stories all straight for a fucking lifetime, YO??????????????????? WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

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About Me

Good folks, there is nothing in the entire universe like Morianity. There is a reason for this, and you may hate hearing this, making me sound like the quintessential club president in the Braggadocio Club. This just cannot be helped unfortunately, I know I am not bragging, and in fact, I am endlessly crying with the clowns, both on the outside and the inside. The reason nothing else like this exists, is because this entire multiverse when observed from the upline world, is one single thought-wave, of me (THAT-BOY), and my wonderful beautiful teen-queen, (SARAH KRASSLE).

It really is just that JH-1969 simple, YO YO YO YO!!!

WHY NOT ACT 60 PP, AND FORGIVE ME, AND BUZZ ME???

NIGHTY NIGHT GOOD FOLKS AND MISTER WARNER, WHAAAAA.

555555555555555555555555555555555

“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”

(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:


I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.

Long story short, the mail was always delivered here at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.

Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Callas, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?

GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.

E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.

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Comments

• anonymous said on Apr 02, 2009....

You shrunk a bit there dalmatian, but I saw you still speak the human lingo, wow, you are telling the truth, God is 16 or at least she watches the show.

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This is YYYYYYYYYYYYY this poor dog should not live in this eternal doghouse, it is quite simple really. Let me explain things to you ladies and gentlemen:

BECAUSE IT IS UNFAIR

BECAUSE I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE IT

BECAUSE I AM INNOCENT

BECAUSE I AM IN AGONY AND TIRED OF BEING ENDLESSLY PERSECUTED BY ALL MIGHTY SCYLLA GODDESS.

BECAUSE I AM DAMMED IF I DO AND DAMMED IF I DON'T.

GET IT YET, GOOD FOLKS???????

END OF THIS BLOGGING TRANSMISSION, YO YO!