THE REAL MESSAGE, JIMMY, COFFEE IS STINKING SO WAKE UP YO

I AM GETTING FUCKING POUNDED WITH FUCKING PERSECUTION. THERE HAS BEEN ALL DAY FIRE ALARMS, TONIGHT NOW TWO BACK TO BACK WITHIN AN HOUR. THIS ONE IS ONGOING AS I SPEAK, THE MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFF NABES ARE SLAMMING IN AND OUT AND YELLING AS WELL, PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS BEYOND FUCKING REDICULOUS, FORT CUNT LAPPING POLICE DEPARTMENT, THESE PEEPS ARE FUCKING NUTS AS ALL SHIT, THIS DUDE IS SCREAMING HIS PRICK OFF RIGHT NOW AT 9:43. WHERE ARE THE LAW ENFORCERS AROUND THIS MOTHER FUCKING ASS GHETTO SHIT HOLE, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALSO, PEEPS ARE TOTAL FUCKING JERK OFFS FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO SEE THIS IS THE MOST POWERFUL BLOG IN THE MULTIVERSE. IT IS NOT AT ALL WHAT ANYONE THINKS. YOU ARE READING IT ON A LEVEL THAT BELONGS TO YOU, BUT LET ME NOT BE SO JIMMY STUART JUICED UP HERE HARVEY CEMENT MAN, AND GET THE FUCK OFF OF THIS ROTTEN ASS ELEVATOR. I TOLD YOU SOMETHING WOULD GET WIPED OUT AND CRUSHED, AND NOT JUST 'CAU-FM', MISTER DAVID ROTH, NO SIR. THE ENTIRE ROTTEN BUNCH OF SLOBS, AND ALL FROM MY ATCO BATHTUB. BUT YOU CANNOT SEE THIS POWERFUL ONGOING SHIT FROM YOUR LIMITED ASS MIND PERSPECTIVE. FLYSPECKS FROM ELM AND FAIRFAX, AND ELEVATOR ROOMS, AND LOST LADIES, AND BEACH TRIPS! I DID NOT KNOW DAWN WAS ALL SPIFFED, YET, JIMMY. HA HA HA HA, SO READ THE REST THROUGH, AND STOP THINKING IT IS A REPEAT. I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING, OLD FRIEND, AND TELL PATTY LOVELY, TO BLOW OUT THOSE DAM ASS CANDLES BEFORE THE PLACE CATCHES REAL MCGUIRE. HERE COMES THE FORT PIERCE FIRE COMPANY, BACK FOR ABOUT THE 13TH TIME, YO, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL PAM BONDI. WOW WOW WOW, MISTER FREAKING MACY SIR, WHAT A TITANIC VOYAGE THIS IS, FROM HERE TO CHILD MOLESTATION, NO MATTER HOW IT ALL SWINGS AROUND, AND ENDS UP INSIDE THE DAM OVENS FROM HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES JIMMY, PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING, AS I WILL REPOST THIS NOW, MISTER STUART; AND THEN GET THE HELL OFF OF CHRISTY'S BEACHES, AND OUT OF HIS DAM ASS ELEVATORS AND BACK TO YOUR FAVE BAR. I WILL BE OVER WITH MY BAG OF CEMENT SOON, TO REINSTALL HOFFA'S RESTING PLACE IN THE WALLS OF THE GREAT PITTSBERGH HOTEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, IT IS OFF AND QUIET, BUT 4 HOW LONG, JAMES EARL STUART CARTER OF THE BACK FROM THE DEADLANDS??????????? NO SIR, THIS IS NOT A REPEAT, READ IT THROUGH AND GET THE REAL MESSAGE, BUTT WIPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MORIANITY CHAPTER V

CHAPTER CLII-PART B

PART A POSTED JUST AS #CLII

PART B WILL ONLY POST UP AT WORDPRESS

SOME COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKER HACKED ME BIG TIME, FBI/ACLU/FCC, OLD PAL, ROBERT MCDOWELL, AND SIR AND BUDDY, PLEASE, YOU WERE HELPING ME, NOW IT IS GETTING REAL DAM ASS BAD ALL OVER AGAIN, YO YO!

Do not count me out, hjipag a[oji a[EOJI kfjg folks, tee-hee!!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YES, WE HAD TO LOG OFF AND BACK ON, RE-BOOT UP, TO GET THIS FUCKING HACK OFF, BUT IT IT STUCK ON THE PREVIOUS BLOG, SO I AM REPOSTING THIS AS ONE LARGER BLOG OF THE PAST SEVERAL BLOGS ALL IN ONE BLOG, JUST AT MY WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE, FEDERAL OFFICIALS.

The hack is fixed and off now, TEE-HEE-HEE Mizz Munster Andrews Shipyards, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Here is the repair and re-post job, without all of the stupid smalls instead of caps, and many other misspellings.

W—O—W MISTER MACY TITANIC SECRETS, AND PORSCHE CARS and HELICOPTERS from 1987, and construction sites of future Atco, New Jersey, non June 21, 2008 Nursing Homes. Thanks for hiring me over there, you jit bags!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011,

MARK WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

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. I am going to make hyperspace, and parallel universe reality believers, out of some of you if it takes me five hundred thousand Lieutenant Ouhora-Trek years. Well, I was in a computer class today at the Fort Pierce, Florida, Harvest, whose website internet address can be accessed as follows:

http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ when suddenly, this evil horrid man, assaulted me out of the blue. Now people are beginning to know, and believe. Still, you are all clueless to many things, such as why I am getting totally mother fucking hammered and pummeled this entire mother fucking week peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! The attack was totally unprovoked. I was only sitting in a chair, and quietly talking to my friend who we will just call, Delilah for sake of secrecy, and safety, and closets in general. I'll fucking give Dawn-Marie King big-time unlimited credit for one thing, and that is that she did not think that her sexual molestation by her no good rotten fucking father back in 1972, was one bit funny. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM, are powerful ass fucking nerves being funny boned here, YO??????? 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; taking only one or two minutes time, where I work the 9-3 shift on Mondays, Tuesdays, and fucking ass Wednesdays.

Folks, I took this re-post blog and highlighted with larger and different colored font, both the time of what will now be discussed in some length, as well as, the topic that will be. But before we start, let me tell you the following non-favorite things, before the dog bites me, and Leticia does her sonic imitations of 'Brownie', and the Girl Scouts come calling with Walmart cookies and bee stings, and Miss Pop-Ups and Poppins, and other 'Whatever Andrews', get all involved in this nasty ass rotten nightmare mess of mine for coming up on sixty mother fucking cock sucking years!!!!!!!!

After-all, we cannot over excite the damn Fibbies or the great FISA (Foreign Intelligence Surveillence Act) folks of such great renown and astuteness, WEEEEEEEEEEEE-NA, and beige Joanna. Sorry with the black color mix up. Why I mix up those two cutie pie girls, I don't know; must be a still not figured out 'Fruedian mental thing', you know; we've all been there, done that; and know what's getting totally said!

*******GET A LIFE, WOMO-M2F *******

BEGINNING OF TRANSMISSION:

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Let me post it up, YO, GET A LIFE, YA’ JERK OFFS!!!

Twizzlers, twisters, and King Kong be dam'd.

The real question here is if I AM a trinitrail??????

I am no such thing, but then there is the word root deal, right friends? You know, a name like MARTIN/O-EZ or a word like ELECTRIC/ITY-IDAD, or another word, like the HOLY TRIN/ITY-----TRIN/IDAD.

MORIANITY FOUNDATION

PART 5, CHAPTER 151 NOW IS CONTINUING ON FOLKS, @

9:41 AM, EDST, ON 7 AUGUST, 2013, WEDNESDAY MORNING

I sure don't appreciate the way you treated me, and not telling me you did DJ work, 'transdimensional-mom', WOW, what a fucked up experience I 'awoke' out of; to use all of your ''forward-mortal'' lingo and terminology. May Joe's magical Melanie motorized bicycle, and my rotten old moped be dam'd to Hell, Mister Marian Wayne Highhorse Alamo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, for now screw you and your DJ job of yesteryear, in some other transdimensional reality, Mommy Ass Dearest; and screw the borderline, Mizz Anaconni, and its effect on TY verses DAD, no; not some future boxing match, or for that matter; a lit match, huh butt wipe McGuire of IOSC Avenue, in Atlantic City, NJ-USA-ES-MWG????????

No, helliday-holiday Twizzler Folks, let us not bang on our chest and act like no-option losing Jack McCoy, on or not on any execution days, and instead; begin freaking focusing on the way that someone back in OHM-11, AKA the year of 2011, made no bones out of showing me that the WORLD POWERS, (OWNERS-CONTROLLERS) and ''whatever, Bob'', don't want me in school learning anything, and especially, NOT IF IT PERTAINS TO THE NEW AGE COMPUTER WORLD. Coming to mind along with all of that, first and foremost; was that day in my Somerdale, New Jersey home, with Tandy Company employee, Mister Fred Windstein, in 1997, and how he was trying to show me how to work the computer that I had just purchased from his local Radio Shack Store, and how to do ''SEARCHES'', back before the great All Mighty Google peeps had all of this stuff the way that they do in today's present time period. Plenty of other things also ''pop-in'' to mind, Julie and Bob, but in all dead-seriousness, and not being kept down and shut up, with or without LIFEGUARD MASCOT SHOVES AND MAJOR CURSING, oh yes, I got that, my name is Mark Wayne Staplestore Mohr, and very little in this universe and all of them, ever get past whittle ol' bad boy crossed over me, WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! Yes L-4; just why the great Goddess Scylla has done all of this to me, will always remain my own great private mystery, and except for my 'enemies-audience', what few sympathizers that I may have out here in cyberspace; doubtfully can ever fully, or ever really, partially; appreciate the way all of this shit I discuss on these blogs, commissioner NYNY-L&O; indeed fits so perfectly, and completely together. Only an Almighty Jehovah, upline in Her endless world of age sixteen, can pull all of this off, and have a 102-Name-Number, and make a claim from 102 stories around the time of her big televised 'human' twentyeth high school reunion, that, and I quote, ''SHE RULES''. You bet you, SHE RULES, and only I, ''THAT-BOY'', was ever supposed to ''GET THAT MESSAGE''. 4 the rest of all of you, millions of fans and others as well; it was supposed to be just a cute little publicity stunt; and to all of them IT WAS, but not to Her, ''THAT-BOY'', who knew and still knows, differently!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I remember the way that magazine was opened up to that very page, at the Cifaloglio Garage shortly afterward, and was placed right where I had to pass by to perform the hourly duties at my security guard job there. Things planned out that maticulously, are no coincidence, yet they go over the heads of all of those, who it is meant for to go over, and the one it was NOT MEANT FOR, ME; the cosmos made 100% sure, that I was properly delivered, ALL THE NECESSARY MESSAGES, so as to fullfill things. Sort of reminds me of the Holy Christian Bible, folks. You know, for any who have bothered to really ever get into reading it seriously, and dead-seriously, Lifeguard Beach Patrol Mascots of 1975; how after things are done on so many occassions, it goes onto say, this was done to fullfill such and such a prophecy; only the one at the Cifaloglio Garage of Folsom, New Jersey; is only written about in the bible to follow the original one, known as MORIANITY FOR M-3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, I could go on and on and on folks, but I've learned, oh I've god dam learned well; NONE OF YOU WANT TO FRIKKIN' HEAR ANY OF IT, YO YO YO YO. Don't let me bother anybody, and allow and permit me, please; Bad Uncle Heinz Gozzwald; to just be taken advantage of, stolen from, teased, messed with, wrecked and ruined, betrayed, and be the ENDLESS NOBODY of the worlds of Dick Ha-Ha Wolf!!!!! Time to leave now, and drive off to Summer Cramp. Wow, the EW is really getting the full use of their Thriller-Bricks this season on the television boob-tube. I only watch a few shows, and most of the educational stuff; and after that, I head to my library, and do a lot of research and reading. Keeps the gray matter stronger so I can do what matters, against the gray's, or any other hyperstuff illusion nonsense that may drift my way at any time without notice, 24-7-365.2422. Where are you when I need you, Midgit Superman, or am I being too unrealistic here, Mister Kent? Wow, you hit that nail right on the head, ''Not a puff of air, inspector Henderson, so why did the door just open and close all by its whittle self, REAL GOOD INVISIBLE-THIEVES of the nineteen-fifties, AHA-AHA-AHA, MMCN??????????????

In case nobody is thinking about a big wow quite yet, I'll be more than willing and happy here to break the ice, after-all, if I had made my unrecorded trip to the states in my last lifetime, as originally planned the previous year in twelve, World War 2 would have never happened, and all of major history would have altered, but then folks, we all can say these things, even without the benefit of actually knowing any partuciular large moves, huh Mister Ray Young of 1988? Oh yes, let me step up and do the work for all of us now, with this nice big-ass W-----O-----W! OOPS:

Fhdjgfhthfjdj fjfjggjth dfkcvmcvryu Some mother fucking jerk off has hacked off my Spell Checker, so let me post up before shit gets only fucking worse, with these sick diseased TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON WOMO-M2F ENEMIES!!!

BYE-BYE BROWN EYED CAL-KAL, FOR RIGHT MOTHER FUCKING NOW!!!!!!!!

555555555555555555555

SLAM SLAM BOOM BANG, THIS A SUPER SIEGE!!!!

It is 20 past eleven now on this SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY OF AUGUST FUCKING SEVEN, And I'll be calling 911

UNLESS THIS FUCKING SHIT BEING DONE TO ME IS HALTED IMMEDIATELY, I HAVE MOTHER FUCKING HAD IT, WALL DIRT BAG STREET, 30 YEARS OF YOUR SICK DEMENTED MOTHER FUCKING HORSE CUNT LAPPING SHIT, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, DO IT, OR BE WIPED OUT AND CRUSHED!!!!!!!

MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER CL

12:41 AM-EDST, 7 AUGUST, 2013, WEDNESDAY MORNING

BEGINNING OF THIS SCREWED UP TRANSMISSION:

This was a day of some siege, nothing awesome, spectacular, or Earth shaking, still, be not surprised good peeps, when I tell you that the Earth may soon be shaking, as I have had it with nearly 60 years of fucking bull shit from these wicked horrendous mother loving MILITUFORCE SCUM (Sarah Callio Until Martino) BAGS. As I type now at quarter shy of one this morning, a FIRE ALARM is going off, piercing the relative quiet of the prior darkness. I no sooner activated this machine and began this blog, when BOO---M, off it goes, on or off of 31 day road trips, only not trips as most of any of you go on. More like the kind that Orson Wells does, right lovely blond WEEEEEE-NA?????????????? So far today, as we now include this fire alarm attack, here is the other shit. First, my dirt bag nabes from across the hall are in and out a lot both yesterday and again today and tonight, with the door banging; but so far it has broken off by the maximum time limit which up until recently was not the case, so hopefully they were given a warning on that one small infraction. But around here, if you are warned about anything and do not heed that warning, you do indeed get a non negotiable 30-day eviction. Any property damage, or major violations are swiftly and harshly dealt with, but I am unable after all this time, to catch and legally prove these monsters over there, have indeed broken any of the Housing Authority regulations, that would most definitely result in an eviction. The last two days, unlike 99% of the business days over the past months and months now, the stock market dropped and two days in a row, and this is why they are influenced, or perhaps directly told, by a coded text flashmob message; something that is hard to ever prove and is as old as cell phone popularity taking hold; but yes, TOLD, to begin messing with me, so that the direction of the Dow Jones Industrials will reverse, and begin ticking back up. I have made this claim of how and what parallel event is, ever since the beginning of my blogging career, some career; but aniwho; I've made no bones about it all, especially how it works, and how I know for a fact that the evil bastard world controllers on Wall Street, intentionally hurt me and my life; and will, until I am dead and gone or can get this proven and stopped, by some miraculous canonized event; and 'this is just reality, son', Dennis Snyder. Now at 10 and a half minutes after it began, the firemen have been here a few minutes, and now this piercing loud sound has terminated. It's five shy of one AM now, and I believe the alarm resulted on my floor, as for the past 6 or 7 minutes, lots of shouting and doors were going on, and this corresponds with the arrival of the firetruck outside my sixth floor apartment window. Yes besides these events, my Comcast Cable system experienced a sudden television outage at just past 7 last night and was not restored until around a quarter shy of ten. Not all channels were effected, some were, like TNT, and all lower channels under the educational local one on number 13, if I am not mistaken; it might have been a few higher; the number one channel was not effected, where you go to for the 'ON DEMAND'. On top of all this, I was struck with a health attack, feeling very queasy and not right for a while, and eventually making a large sloppy messy donation to the local septic system, in the name of the WOMO and all other rotten vicious enemies, or as my mom would laugh about quite some time back now, when I would say this; ''let me give some chocolate pudding to my wonderful enemies'', as I'd close the bathroom fucking door, and watch my nose write its own last will and testament. Just seconds shy of 1:02 AM, the Fort Pierce Fire Company rolled away, all is back to ''normal'', so tell me, what is that? How-bout we just say, it's back to where it was before. I feel this tends to merge us ever closer to candidness and honesty, Mister Island-man Joel, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! No these enemy neighbors will never leave here. They were definitely SENT HERE, and this will never stop, with them continuously annoying me, unless I can find a way to pay a detective, to prove their illegal activities; and then they WOULD HAVE TO BE EVICTED, but if it ever got back to them that I was instrumental in the process of their eviction, Debbie Morotto told me personally, I may not want to know the full extent of the reprisal and consequences; and that they would indeed retaliate. Let me tell you just what I know here, Attorney General, Pam Bondi, of Florida, on the outside Powerball odds chance, that some spark of decency and humanity inside you, might care one tiny bit about the hell these monsters make me endure and endlessly suffer through, just to keep their endless freaking stinking economy running bullish, via APE, (Applied Parallel Event). There used to be meetings held here at this building 2 or 3 times a year, until it got so bad with these nabes that I began to ask when the next meeting would come up so that I could address my personal issues with them. Then POW, no more meetings! Also, the once annual police meeting that I went to the first year here, I never got to as these very same nabes took that notice off of my door, and I was not aware of the meeting. Debbie told me not to worry about missing the mandatory meeting, and that she knew what had happened. I do not know all the details, but I do know that BOO really did call me, and my daut and her peeps are just darn lucky, I did not make a musical project out of that retrieved phone call, and that was legal; as inmates must call collect, and all I did was tape record my own ''already legally recorded voicemail'', which legally circumvents the no telephone recording without permission of all parties, law. HA HA HA HA, ICABOD TRILLIONSECOND.

The entire building has been invaded by these sugar ants, and I was told I need to get something called ORTHO, one can costs about 6-12 bucks depending on its size and where I purchase it. It must be the type used for killing ants and similar pests. The normal routine extermination here in this building is just for roaches, and those sprays have no effects on these sugar fucking ants. I went this morning to begin eating a few cupcakes out of a 12-pack of them that I had just bought the previous day at the local Publix Store on route 1, in Fort Pierce; and the entire lid they all were in was crawling with bazillions of these little mother fucking monster ass things; no dog houses, no headphones, and no infidelity. Both my kids can pick real real winners, man.

****WOW.***

END OF THIS FUCKED UP TRANSMISSION. MAGNESONIC, MMMMM, DO IT!

*******GET A LIFE, WOMO-M2F *******

BEGINNING OF TRANSMISSION:

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Let me post it up, YO, GET A LIFE, YA’ JERK OFFS!!!

Twizzlers, twisters, and King Kong be dam'd.

The real question here is if I AM a trinitrail??????

I am no such thing, but then there is the word root deal, right friends? You know, a name like MARTIN/O-EZ or a word like ELECTRIC/ITY-IDAD, or another word, like the HOLY TRIN/ITY-----TRIN/IDAD.

YO, cut me a real big break here Margie Leo from good old November in 1985. Just what am I left to think after all these powerful submarines and SAT NURINES landed here at De Gamma's Fort Pierce, and went BOOM? Do you have any letters for me on that one, oh great and powerful Ozann and Ozdawn, and all the rest of uuuuuu's?????????????????

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, or was that W------O------W?

Ladies and gentlemen, it is 6:57 AM-EDST, here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG, on this 6 August of 2013.

THIS IS MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER CXLIX, LIKE DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have a super colony of sugar ants, and am going to call the Board of Health unless it can be dealt with. I cannot even cook or eat anymore in here. Why I have not moved out of here yet is my own personal business, and nobody needs to know dogshit right now. Silence truly can be both golden as we all have heard the expression, as well as life saving, especially WITHOUT the good old Atlantic City Beach Patrol. Well to be fair and honest, accusing any person or group of anything, is shooting in the darkness, and hitting a lot of innocent targets; so I'll merely say, you are free to gnaw on these bones, but don't swallow until I tell you I have all of the roses in Mary's secret garden, all successfully collected and properly and accurately analyzed. Still, I know fully well, that WOMO does place evil things into those who they label as their enemies', personal private dwellings and residences, as well as destroy their property. Why my god dam own blood will not tell that fat ass friend of hers the truth, is far beyond my retarded fucking comprehension. Well, not really, $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ first, and all else never, seems to be the motto of the 'wealthies'. SOSO-WEIN!!!!!!!!!!

Hay I doubt any friends of mine ever really properly go through all the full words that I post, but then, that is why you refuse to believe my truths, just as the majority of mother fucking Christian preachers, who never read the Holy Bible through in their god dam miserable lives, many of them, and that's a fucking fact, folks, YO! END TRAN, GRAN.

MORIANITY PART 5

CHAPTER 00147

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT IS NOW

11:33 POST MERIDIAN, FRIDAY NIGHT, 2 AUGUST, 2013

The exploratrons of higher type are active, doing some wild flickering, with both brightness, as well as on-off flickering of the text being typed as well. This is quite easily explainable folks, as they indeed do come from tomorrow, and are running backwards, relative to my universe, and most of yours, out there; and they know already; that this is going to be a real major monster blog.

I ran into a few folks who know each other and have for years, who are former readers and viewers of the Morianity BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, in my ''DREAMS'' last night. What you think of as dreams and dreaming is no more solid than a glass of warm water without the glass, but that is OK, as I know the truth. They were sitting in a park with lots of grassy area, maybe three acres tops, maybe only two, and beyond it in all directions was thick dense woods, not from my area but hardwood trees, with no pines and no palms, just the hard wood type of trees. At the very center of this land plot was a double-sized mobile home trailer in excellent condition, both inside and outside, leaving me to ponder why anyone able to afford this type of dwelling, would want to live in a ''trailer'' but guess what, many folks enjoy these things, as I came to learn. There was no set amount, as all during the interaction of my 'dreaming', it altered from one dude, to a full party of eight to ten, and ranging in all adult ages up to near elderly, whatever this endlessly changing amount of years is considered to be in today's times and age, all the way down to very early twenties, and both genders, men and women. They told me they were avid followers of Morianity until about late last year somewhere before they became aware of two powerful things about me. One was that I was consciously attempting to awaken this Almighty God of theirs, when I know fully well this is not what She wants, and also, when my blogs seemed more artificial, or in their other selected way of putting it, after I went on to ask them to be more descriptive of what they meant to say to me; one very small man about five feet at best, and very thin, as if he was ill with you know what, hay that old PC thing strikes again; but yes, he casually came closer than before where he had been standing relative to where I was as well, and said to me in a very soft spoken and mild mannered voice; well Mountainpen, you once wrote as though you were keeping a powerful cool journal, and now it seems to be about having an audience, pleasing an audience, and even wondering who we all are out here; and this turned us all off, as we used to think of you as quite special and different, in that regard, you know; not giving a hoot about those type of things. Then you seemed to just not be like that anymore, and we stopped following you. I asked if they were a club, you know, a UFO club, a paranormal research type of club, or whatever it may be; and they all insisted, no; we just are all a group of friends who your daughter put us onto, shortly after your public apology to her, for that lovely bad habit in your family. This is all a quote, folks, almost verbatim. Let's leave shit there!

After this initial stuff, I still have more powerful vivid memories about this experience and then it fades into as most of you know from your own dreaming experiences, less distinguishable clear memories, and only jumbled pieces that blur more and more as it stretches further out still from what is clearly retained upon awakening. Of course, as all dream-research folks do and know to do, I immediately do one of two things, either record onto cassette tape on my HYPERSPACE JOURNAL, or type up on my word document, in my same titled dated documents on the subject, as many clear and then even unclear details as is possible. Maybe you all have noticed and maybe not, but memories of both waking life and dreaming life, all fade, but a marked distinguishable difference does in fact exist as to the ratio of how those from waking world fade out over time, verses the 'dream memories'.

Hyperspace is a fancy word. It just means an area that contains all of the parallel universes, all realities of four dimensional space-time, all existing on parallel dimensional planes due to atomic agreement in frequency in each of all of these individual unique locales. Journal is another fancy word, in my opinion. Maybe not as fancy as memoir, but all any of it is, is someone telling a story of their life. Whoop-dee-do. Well, here is where Archie Bunker and his whoop-dee-do may just fall a little bit short. I keep track of hyperspace in my life, all the things that relate to my life in my present persona as Mark Wayne Mohr; and I do not, except for literary purposes and to word my blogs a little bit more readable for any and all of you; separate ANY OF hyperspace, or as you might word it your way, I don't separate my dream reality from my waking one, as I know better. It is not any different, as it is apart only by atomic frequency, and not by so much as one inch in space, or one second in time. Now with this all said, we'll move this on a bit, folks. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

After this earlier part went down, I was inside the trailer sitting at a card table, where many radios and televisions that all were on different stations and channels, were on, not loudly, in fact, very softly, each one barely on, but on nonetheless. There was even a digital radio on the table, I suddenly found myself sitting at, along with this very small gentleman of about 35 years of age or so, and two other men and two women, a total with myself included, of six persons, four men and two women. We were all talking, and suddenly the announcer on the radio that was playing softly on the table well below our decibel conversation level; made the statement that following the worst global disaster in the known history since Jesus Christ walked this Earth, things are getting back to normal, to a small extent. With that he announced the next song to be played. It was called, “Love is for Carpenters”. I thought I was going to go to the bathroom in my underwear. Then it began to play, and I asked if they would turn up the volume. It was the same song that I heard both in 2011 and in 2012, first at the Teck Bay Mystery School in the Advanced Robotics Class, with the Wildwood Press Tablet in the hands of Ten-Grand-Joe, and later, in that wild interaction where I was all dressed up in my best clothes, which is not saying much; and found myself at some crazy looking high school type bleachers, the like I have never seen before or since; and it was being sung to me again, and this was last September, late in the month somewhere. It resembles the version sent down to the Copyright Office in 2007, as far as the tune; only in a harmony. What is the song here, is a harmony part there; and the actual song is too beautiful to believe; and if you listen to it, most people who have any emotions at all, burst out crying immediately. After all of this happened, and the lady who made the volume higher on this crispy clear digital BOSE radio system, and I remember seeing the words printed on it in bright YELLOW, 'BOSE DIGITAL RADIO'; she immediately returned the volume to where it had been before the song had come on, and I burst into tears crying and asked why it was on the radio? This is when they told me that THEY ARE the regulators of what I call the ESS or the ''EXPLORATRONIC SUPER MIND''. I then suddenly remembered that these thick woods outside were solid, no pathway in or out beyond this plot of land was there, anywhere. I blurted this out, and those at the table began softly laughing, and said to me, one at a time; there is just nothing out there beyond those woods. They go on a short ways, and then there's nothing; and that's a direct quote now, by me. I remember after this, falling onto the floor of the trailer, and begging to stay there with them; and not to make me leave ever, and allow me to never return to my miseries back beyond those woods, as there is indeed, a misery out there beyond. They said that they know this, but that this is my misery, I created it, and then I worsened it by trying to wake up GOD in HER dreams; first when I thought that it was Sarah Callio, and now that I have come to know that it is MC. They said if I am ever successful at waking Her up inside her dream, she will make the flip side come true. I asked what they meant, and one of the ladies stood up slowly to her full height of around the normal five feet five inches inside her bright red flat sandals, and she said to me, ''Oh you don't know, that's right. The other side of the CD we just heard on the radio, is called, 'Now My Glittering Stars Will Fall', oh yes, it is just as beautiful a song too''. Right after this a few very powerful things did indeed happen. Things were said of immense importance, but I cannot pull it back to save me. Not now, and not when I first got up. I know it had something to do with how horrible it would be if I was ever able to successfully make the great Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle wake up inside HER dream fully, but that is all that I know for sure; no details at all beyond merely knowing that this was what it was about. Then I remember being in the woods and looking at the magic trailer, and walking a bit further until the trailer vanished from the thick forestation completely. Then I know I looked back the other way in front of me, and there was a gigantic bed and someone laying on it. I remember walking over to it, and then falling down on it and into my own self and while doing that, literally jumping up and awake from this powerful ass dreaming experience.

Now here is what needs to be said on this blog; now that I have told you all about this interaction. First, energy runs through people, in the same like manner that MOGOSP runs through internet circuitry in the future, or in hyperspace, which includes all possible universes, at all of their possible times of existence. The whole enchalate nine yards, or however it is spelled, as Microsucks refuses to correctly spell a commonly used word for me on many attempts now, and there's nothing freaking bloody shoe enchanting about it, Google. Yes, it is never the people by themselves that really are doing anything in bigger picture truth, but merely an unknown energy that runs and really does operate in and through all of us all of the time, on the physical material realm and waking world plane of existence. But are there magic spots in some of the locales in hyperspace? Well, the simple answer is a freaking resounding loud YES, with all of the depth, and echo, and sonic effects; of all of the stupid automobile commercials all put together and then some more. What would be some of them off the top of my head, you may be wondering, well, here we go, © Office, and all of my old songs from yesteryear. One would certainly be Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, New Jersey between the boardwalk and the Pacific Avenue intersection. Another one would be the magic double trailer. Another would be the Egg Harbor City schools and grocery stores, in New Jersey, and yet still another would most certainly be the Bermuda Triangle. Still another would be Williamstown, New Jersey, the entire area or most of it aniwho, Flo. I could go on, believe that folks, but let us save time and 'energy' for right this second, and just elaborate on what is up here so far. We would be hours and hours just surface scratching Atlantic City and 'IOSC' AVENUE. Let us work on the next biggie, WILLIAMSTOWN. Oh by the way IOSC is my cute little code and truthful rhyming lyrical content. It is just short for Tennessee Avenue, you know, IO for TEN, and SC, as saying these letters is like pronouncing the last two thirds of the state name of Tennessee, AHA AHA AHA, Arsinio!!!!!! Still, Nate, you know this all happened, so does Kathy Gatherer, and so do lots of other peeps that do their utmost best to keep endless lids on all of this 'UFO related' crap.

Yes people, let us indeed begin the long discussion of Williamstown, New Jersey, and my personal interactions with it over three different stages of residing there. And yes good folks, there is a W----O----W involved here!

Just keeping it super short and sweet, L-4, let us do this, Mike McNulty and Loudcar Hall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is where I began applying parallel event to roulette and winning in Atlantic City in the casinos as a professional gambler in 1986. It is where I built my full scale model of MAGNESONIC, and plugged it into a complex system of numerous machines, and did many forbidden things. It is where I talked to several attorney's about suing numerous top name recording artists, for ripping off large parts of my music, back in those days and getting nowhere, but it is all fixed, so quite naturally, big surprise. It is where I began working as a Tape Duplicator at the RPL Sound Recording Studio and Laboratory. It is where I began my search to find the powerful awesome elusive mysterious teenager from my past, the great SARAH. It is also where I wrote the song on May 12, 1996, ''SARAH''. It is where Paula King Delaney, or whatever and whoever she really is, raped me a second time, back in late June of 1996; and nearly gave me my second daughter, PEE; only she went on to miscarry, but I live in 5-D, where I love my wonderful P, more than my life itself; and do not limit my existence to a tiny little world of 4-D as do all of you. Screw you, hacking exploratrons; I see what you're trying to do here; ya-miserable fucking jerk offs.

I could go on with numerous other smaller but worthy of mentioning items, and at a later time, will most likely be doing so; but for right now; let us stick with this nice sizable 'dirty laundry list', OK? My blogs detail and discuss all of these subheadings as listed above, but only in small details, here and there, every so often, when it fits into the blog being written at these times, and this will dovetail real nicely into what I now will go onto say to you now folks.

Earlier on the blog, I told you in this dream from last night, using your words as a society totally stuck in three dimensions, when I ended with the words, ''Let's leave shit there'', I did not tell one other thing that needed to be told regarding these folks telling me something. They told me before we got onto unmentionable topics such as the Joe Twist Joe King John Mason Funeral Syndrome for a clever wordage folks of very nasty business; or for a short and abbreviated lettering, (JTJKJMFS) and many real followers, and 'family' know what this horror all stands for, without getting any judgmental NYC-SVU CS Investigators involved here good peeps, YO; but yes, they told me that some recent advice given to my daughter, and I know exactly what it was, about me, word for word; is probably more apropos for me now. I TOTALLY AGREE, but it is a whole lot easier said and or given, than it is to be actually followed. I'll do a second freaking W----O----W if no one minds. Hay I'm the one who wrote GITYA way back in 1983, not the one who wrote the 1997 one, hay, am I wrong fans? But, this will dovetail our topic now perfectly right into the next group of words, matter and antimatter, in case this matters to anti body, Roseann, OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, the old Star Trek original 1960's show with the immortal episode Mister Flint who played Doctor Lockner Chief of Medical Staff on the great hit TV show of the times, ''Medical Center''; said how leaving the EARTH, led to his downfall, as well as the end of his immortality. Well, my Earth is smaller in reality, than his fictional one. It is WILLIAMSTOWN, New Jersey. Every time I left it, all three times, living there and then leaving it, it led to the total ruination and the complete utter frikkin' destruction, of my entire life. I slowly put my life back together, and seemed to find myself back again in Williamstown, and then left it; and BOOM, here we go again; old kids, new kids, AND ALL KIDS, IN WILLIAMS OR ANY OTHER TOWNS OR PLANETS, SIR MATCHES MCGUIRE FLINT-KING'S OF FIRELIGHT'S AND P. JANE'S! So before I end up going all psycho and MENTAL on you all, let me tie this all together more intelligently, AH-HA-AH-HA Antimatternulty. When you just hate somebody for no reason at all, remember your mind is only working because of electrons, and electrons are positrons that are from antimatter universes in hyperspace, where time is running backward, so these positrons contain the entire knowledge and awareness of all the possible things ahead of us, as to them, our future is their past, and vice versa, simple physics in or out of chairs, water, or speeding up camera still frames, or maybe put better to quote Dennis Fakecousin Snyder from good old Jersey, ''That's just reality son''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hated that son of a bitch Arsinio Hall, the second I first saw him, back before Jane Witch-Bitch screwed me, at that Georgia frikkin' ballpark that night; and only recently am coming to see why I didn't like this dude, nor do I. Matter and antimatter, even if it does not matter to anti one, what can I say here Jay-Jay Evans, hell, I'm even living in Florida now, so say hi to your wonderful MOM, if you can get P to light up a candle or two, YO! Lots of memory loss has happened to me in February, June, and October. In February of 1997, on Tennessee Avenue, in October of 2006 on Tennessee Avenue, and in June of 1996 in Williamstown at my apartment at the Highview, Misses Shoemaker Levy Mayor. As I began typing these three things, a hack key fucked it all up and I had to redo it. See how these fucking EXPLORATRONS STRIKE REAL HARD AND GO ON A ROLL, AND I FUCKING KNEW IF I LOOKED OVER, IT WOULD SAY PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, AND IT DOES, SO HERE GOES MY COMPENSATION, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

55555555555555555555555555, PLUS 55555555555, TIMES 555555555555555555, IS EQUAL TO WHO GIVES A RATS BEHIND? JUST LET ME STARE AT THESE LOVELY 5555555 NUMBERS, WOW, MCGUIRE AND FAMILY, fist, gun, or whatever. Just what are you hiding down there on your great street, you MICKBASTARDASS?????????????????????????

The great Paula Roofdog Belinda King, and her parking lots and her radio station, WAYV, wow, where can we ever go to run and hide, my old friend Regis Baduncle Lawandorder Philbin??????????????????????????? Well, come to think of it friend, I never had any good uncles, still, my bad one was a bit further off than Yonkers, Mister Trump and Mister Wolf, as you know. He was up in Ammityville, until the toaster oven fire in the early sixties; and then he moved to Babylon, onto Peninsula Drive, number 175, man alive; or maybe not if you don't survive the plane crashes in the dam water, or the beat downs by Atlantic City Lifeguard Mascots. Is this 1970 or 2015, what's going fucking on, CALLIO KENNEDY MCG? Well Mister Smith, if you're reading this, I should have stayed as crazy as Mary Moore and the gang all wanted me to, and just went around picking lovely roses and humming stupid tunes like That's The Way It Goes, right Diana? I know you liked the darn rewritten intro to it in 1981, so please don't say 'no how, no nothing', girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks it is time or way over time, for me to clue you all into something about the BLOGS OF FREAKING MOUNTAINPEN.

Each chapter is nothing more than a squad room like the one we all enjoy seeing while watching shows such as L&O-SVU or whatever, any of these type of television shows; where detectives go to chalk or poster boards and begin diddling around with posting photos, charts, and all manner of crime related data for study, just as a math professor in a university, would have stuff up like, energy equals mass times the speed of light squared, on their board, (E=MC2). The correct font for making the dam '2' raised, and not lowered, I cannot find, so I am sorry about that Chief Levy Sayfrance. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Mashell Daniels and her neighbor Jerry Patterson, and their friend from down the way, Pretty-Sue, wow; another wild story that would fill a few 'journals' or 'whatever' Bob, old pal from Oak Street in HHNJUSAESMWG, WHAAAAAAABIT!! The year would be 1980, well almost, it would be just shy of Christmas, and my car was stolen out of the recording studio parking lot. I told this story a million ass times good peeps, but Mashell and Jerry were extremely beautiful women who were stories all by themselves, especially ex's and their occupations. I know this world thinks I am a stupid ass moron, but you know, I am not as dumb as you butt-wipes seem to think I am. When you tote up 100 fucking things, the crazy 3-way telephone connection with my boss's wife and her friend and myself, the Hollywood ex's of these girl coworkers, and all the shit back then, right now, and all up in-between, well, I know a lot more than just how to do the Einstein equation, sorry Mary Moore. Give that adorable little dog a pat for me, or maybe I should be more careful, huh Regy old buddy??????????????? Wow, then there was Cigar Karge, Elvis Presley, and Hope Kernan, just for starters, only we could go fucking on and on and on and on and on and on, and you all know this is 100% the total truth. I don't have to convince a soul of any of that. It is like trying to explain viral videos, and that will be repeated tonight, all as promised, so WEEEEEEEEEEEE-NA!! These sicko exploratron travelers will screw with anything that they can, and LOVE IT, MAXWELL MCDONALD, SIR, light or heavy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Turn down the car radio, Dave Roth, don't want the employees tripping over the fast food back in 1988!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you see, between shit like that, and all the fucking top artists taking parts of me and using me all up, huh lovely Donna girl; I know the truth, and I know I'm not all that horrible, just a bit out of step and out of time. Still, insult me all you want to, you lowlife mother fucking scum suckers. I know what I know; and you can all go to hell and KISS MY LILLY-W.A.

Why didn't somebody give me that great advice about my kid that they gave to her about me, W—O—W?

Thank you Mister Ortega for letting me know that Paula did not get an order from her pit boss in 1986 to ask me what I was doing at the Claridge Hotel and Casino that day. Now I know she was just asking me for her own reasons, so shill on, Beach Patrollers, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. What a hellish ride into Queens that was, and you thought that shit was all funny the next day. Well, there is an old saying that there's a special place in HELL for used car salesmen, and maybe indeed there freaking is, world. All I know is that there is definitely a special place reserved there for many many dirt bag peeps in ATLANTIC SHITTY CITY, NEW JITTY JERSEY, so I'll gladly get the hell off your beach, great governor, WITH PLEASURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then along came you, 657-123, oh PG, and with that, also came jerk off teasing car commercials form garbage Nissan, as well as dual-awareness railroad tracks and the automobile driven and ridden in by lovely Sarah Callio and her friend. Wow what a couple of worthless mother fuckers if ever there were two such witches on this planet, WHAAA! Still, why did this all happen, Dennis Chase, since you seem to be so mother fucking smart and have all the dam ass Jack McCoy 2006 Nuclear Winter Answers????? One thing was for sure back in fucking 1980; and that is this all seemed to drive electrician JOE at the river, at the licorice plant, nuts as shit; just mentioning these Atlantic fucking shitty City witches, right Garbageman Anthony Deer-Hunter? How's the great Cifaloglio doing? You don't think I know why Delmo was pissed off at me? You really take me for a fucking ass fool, you crocks of stenchy crap. You don't think I know all the dirty little secrets up on that rotten ass fucking island????????????????????????????????????????

AS LONG AS THESE BASTARDS CAN ENDLESSLY FUCKING KEEP ME DOWN AND OUT, AND TOTALLY WRECK MY LIFE, GINA, AND OTHERS; JUST AS I HAVE BLOGGED NOW FOR NEARLY 8 MOTHER FUCKING YEARS, THE DOW JONES WILL KEEP GOING UP HIGHER AND HIGHER AND HIGHER, UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP RIGHT TO THE STARS, AND MOTHER FUCKING BEYOND; AND YOU CAN SEE I AM RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT, 'STAR TREK TRILANE', YO, BOO, AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN EW, YOU SICK FUCKING ROTTEN WORTHLESS BASTARDS. WITHOUT ME YOU ALL WOULD BE NOTHING, AND YOU KNOW IT, SO CHOKE ON IT, AS YOU'VE ALL MADE ME DO FOR 30 YEARS. I WILL ESCAPE ALL OF THIS AND YOU TOO SSJKK, IF IT TAKES ME A TRILLION FUCKING ASS YEARS!!! LAB TECHNICIAN, GIVE ME A BREAK, ALL MIGHTY GODDESS TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ++++W-------O-------W++++

OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH

YES I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU!!

{{{((('O-H***S-H-I-T')))}}}} WOW BY GOLLY, GOOD FOLKS, WAS I AS ALWAYS, 100% CORRECT, YO YO YO YO???? UP UP UP UP FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Was this on the billboard too that day, Mony James-68?

'FORWARD-FORWARD', RIGHT JOAN SWIMPRO??????????

BELIEVE WHATEVER YOU WANT TO, WORLD; AS I KNOW!!

A child can see how Wall Street crooks are ripping off the world every dam day!

MORIANITY FOUNDATION

PART 5, CHAPTER 147 IS CONTINUING ON FOLKS:

2:55 AM, EDST, 3 AUGUST, 2013, SATURDAY MORNING

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION: WHAAAAAAA!!!!!

I AM NOT GOING TO BABY ANY OF YOU, WHOEVER IS READING THESE WORDS, FRIEND, OR FOE. I KNOW TOTALLY WELL THAT I HAVE A COMBINATION OF BOTH, AND NEED TO FOCUS MY ATTENTION MORE ON THE FRIEND SECTION THAN THE FOE SECTION. My apologies for my last blog being long when I promised you all a glorified tweet, but I got going, and things took me where they took me, Commissioner of NYNY Fictional Police, and “L&O” TV Show. I am getting a lot of hacking after a few days with this being a bit better, Bob McDowell, please step up your efforts again, as whatever you did a few days ago for me, IT WAS WORKING REAL FRIKKIN' WELL, AND THANK YOU, BUDDY AND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have my way of knowing many things. I know when people are thinking about me when I am what you consider to be ''sleeping''. I know precise transdimensional tricks that move many of the various realities germane to me and my life, in directions that I bend them into from my current waking life, and I have something that is sort of resembled in an old black and white ''TWILIGHT ZONE'' television show, the episode where a dude was compulsively obsessed with moving junky looking objects that appeared to be worthless and of no significance, to various places around his basement, knowing that it caused a parallel-event of major world events. It was as all of Serling's shows, really a great work of art, but first off, much of the 20^th century science fiction is not all that fictional, and the authorities want this secret kept locked up REAL DAM TIGHT! This is sort of a type of mix of what has been discussed in lots of previous Morianity, ''TILE TAPPING'', and ''APPLIED PARALLEL EVENT'' OR APE for short abbreviation. LSS, moving junk around and tapping tile codes and slowly over time, finding patterns that seem to correspond with energy flows within reality not normally observed or understood one bit yet by 2013's standards and scientific limitations; is like the cruder way of turning mass into energy, of the two possible ways of doing it; atom smashing, verses simple fire such as burning up a newspaper, and yes, a newspaper, like the Wildwood Tablet Press of 2007 and 2008 dream-discussions, and the future tap screens, and the still near recent future of plastic guns, and 3-D laser printers. All of this is still the 3 year old licking an ice cream cone next to the multi-millionaire owner of an ice cream company, with factories around the country. In simple truth, but remaining factual and honest 100%, good folks, there are things that can be done in order to make other things slowly move towards your center gravity. Again, CONTACT has made me aware and sentient to these powerful and totally unknown truths. Contact with what you ask? EXPLORATRONIC REALITY, is the only answer that I can provide you with, but we must shift a major gear, as a huge hack just struck me AGAIN, on word open office 3.1, or in my computer, AND I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE, SIR BOB FCC MCDOWELL, OLD 1972 PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I managed to get out of it, but it was a bad fucking cunt hack, sir, and pal. Now back to my point that some EXPLORATRON RIGHT HERE IN THIS ROOM AND INSIDE OF ME, IS DOING ITS BEST TO HACK OUT AND DESTROY THIS BLOG WORK SINCE I BEGAN A HALF HOUR FUCKING AGO, the old magnetic percentage syndrome folks, you all fucking know perfectly well what I mean, bringing in the first day of the new month with fucking hassles and persecutions. Yes WE WERE DISCUSSING CONTACT WITH EXPLORATRONIC REALITY, AND SOMETHING SOMEWHERE DID NOT FUCKING LIKE WHERE I AM ABOUT TO GO. We are going to be getting into the topic of the exact army of those, who I refer to as, MARKER-BEES, the ones who if you go to any library in most USA counties coast to coast, and randomly take 20 books off of the shelves from various areas in these libraries and take them back to your table, you will see that some of them have lots of strange markings, underlines, notations, and other things as well, even some type of codes to each other. It is there, it is not mistakable, and it proves I am telling lots of truths, but only if you go and see this shit for yourselves, people, YO. But this hack on this system today is forcing me to reroute too many thoughts and subjects that just cannot be properly all tied together in one blog, so let me again just get back to what I started to say before the wild hack that nearly closed down the blog completely, YO. Contact with Exploratrons of an advanced type, or the TYPE-3, as I personally term them, not that they term themselves this; but I need to have some kind of a reference obviously, but this contact, has side effects. The main effect is the contact, and the side effects are every bit as lengthy as those shown on the average medication bottle showing physical side effects. These may be cosmic side effects, but which is really larger when you stop to seriously ponder this query, my friends? Some medications, or the cosmos. I am only going to open a couple of doors for today on this blog, and then we can later on do some major fucking exploring along. Before I get into anything, CHEMTRAILING WAS VERY BAD ALL OVER MY AREA ALL DAY LONG YESTERDAY THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY, and I have been feeling very poorly for some time now as all fucking year, this jet attack fuel dump in over-concentrated amounts in compressed continual areas, MINE, cause many SIDE EFFECTS to their main effect of dumping overloaded jet aircraft's, to make for statistically safer landings. Still, ever since the jet age, breathing disorders and pulmonary. I may have to schedule a medical appointment ahead of normal schedule to complain about the effects on my heart, my breathing, and numerous other health related issues, resulting from exposing me intentionally way too often, to this toxic amount of propane mixed jet fuel of several nasty chemicals. This is why since this jet age all started, and keeps growing every single decade thereafter, there are more per-capita cases of numerous breathing disorders from asthma to lung cancers to literally dozens of inhalation related medical disorders, from patients all over this world where jet travel is in abundance and is growing, there is no denying this fact. Every year, more cases, more cases, and more cases. Not just more cases, put in a linear growth in a per-capita legitimate count, and these facts are available online from chemtrail clubs and researchers who know that this is causing a problem with the health of those of us on the ground who must inhale this fucking nasty cunt lapping mess every singe month of the year, without any let up ever. Take any area you may be in folks, how many days each month are filled with them, and how many days are free of them. Keep records, then demand under freedom of information acts, to have medical statistical reports released to you from the Medical Bureau folks at the AMA. Begin charting how new cases follow months and year averages corresponding to the higher daily jet fuel dumps and vice versa. I realize many folks think it is more than jet fuel and have many other ideas. Who am I to take this away from anyone, maybe there is some truth in it, but all I know for sure is that we are the tip of several cycles in the natural order of ice ages, and due to this, we need all the global warming we can get, as sooner than many think, the world will cool off for a long while, and this planet will only sustain a few million peeps at that point, in the majority of localized parallel universes in the fifth dimensional hyperspace called the multiverse, standing for multiple vibratory atomic realities, or said even still simpler, many songs, verses the single song of just one universe, uni for single one, and verse for vibratory song. Not only is the entire 5-D cosmos alive in ways not yet dreamed of, but it continually is singing to us biological beings. Yes, I will expose my medical problems next week on the first full week of month number eight or (August), by going to my doctor. There are a lot of strange things going on with all of this, as this all began with a choking condition that came on me one night at exactly half past ten on 4 June in 1983, right smack dab out of the dark night sky, while residing in Atco, New Jersey, at 134 Norris Avenue. But let's quickly round robin this back to not using silly junk in a basement, but other things that really do make things alter in a 5-D reality. Saying and doing certain exact things in both this universe while ''awake'' as well as in ''dreams'' with characters from other universes in the vast hyperspace that contains all of them; ours, and all of theirs; and there is a lot more, but rather than my just ranting off a huge list of things that any of you can do starting the second that you finish reading this very blog, to prove all that I tell you is totally real and true; let me explain first on this blog, quickly and follow up on other following blogs; the mechanics going on behind these great still totally unknown OZ-CURTAINS, as of August of twenty-thirteen. By the way don't let my great daughter kid any of you about any of this over the past nearly eight years now. You saw the BLUCRAN, and dozens of other things, right down to OZ-CURTAINS, and of course, many things can be totally just a coincidence, but when one becomes 2, then 3, then 40, then 500, now about 6000, well, how viral must the count of coincidences be, before you see I am really in this shit with SCYLLA; and always have been and will be, as we just exist, and time is only real in 5 and less dimensions of waking life so-called-reality. Also, sure I can edit my blogs, but when the FBI or other NSA authorities put this all to the test some day and probably already freaking have done so; every edit job of old blogs, just as if you are working on your own computer files, has a MOST RECENT WORKED ON DATE stored and recorded, if not available on the blog somewhere, then on the Google files somewhere. Everything is carefully scrutinized and recorded today, right down to how many times you belch, fart, and blow colored snot out of one nostril. I don't mean to get nasty, but loud and dirty gets attention, and I learned this from a great top world commander, and a wonderful trustworthy source; General George Patton, of World war 2!

Google knows there is no way this blog is fake or phony. There is no techno-pop involved in this blog, or techno-parlor tricks. I can play around to prove points such as the one recently explained that any lengthy literary work has a magic ability if you allow it and become sensitized to it, to hook anyone directly up into cosmic communication. But as for stuff that I began figuring out after the end of 2007, and then as 2008 came in and my ''daughter''; or whatever she really is, began doing her thing; you need to ask her of her motives, not me of mine. I want nothing at all from her other than to know that she is relatively happy and OK, as not too much longer will I be dreaming this Mark Wayne Mohr dream. I am old and dying, and ill; from decades of severe fucking persecution, as well as unmentionable physical attacks from this sick evil torture loving group I have called the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ever since beginning my Morianity blogging project in early 2006. Now what She is really up to, and what Her agendas may be all about, this only Scylla-Jehovah truly knows, and I'll be frank with all of you, fiends and friends alike. I am very frightened of the great SSJKK, she has demonstrated for a very long time that she just wants to use me to play some sick demented game of hers, and let my life be dammed to hell. Oh well, say 'LEVY'! Or say, SHOEMAKER TROUBLE, right US © OFFICE??????????

MORIANITY PART V CONTINUES ALONG:

OK, bird chirpers, this will be of your liking, short, not a lot of wild gear shifts, over and done with and leaving you with some real head scratching to do, YO.

First, sir, Mister New-Age Music Initials, all any of this proves, is what I am trying to prove all along, and we do not need your services, as I was never planning to do any day trading, or contacting of Mister Coins.

I ALREADY MCKINNON KNEW, this would all break-down, Admiral, General, public or private. I have watched this all work around me for just about three decades since the nightmare mother fucking began. I can play the same games that you billionaire dirt bags can play, it does not take a ton of mullah to do this, just a bit of gray matter in operation, and an in tact memory. But WHAT would break down, some are perhaps asking, so fine, let me tell you.

First, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE will not allow anything that I do or ever try to do, to work, even if I seem to defy huge odds, twice in one year, using a technology that goes far beyond this known mortal world. Some say and insist on an answer to give me even one percent of credibility, TELL US YYYYYYYYYYY, this is happening to you as otherwise, screw you Mountainpen, we are not going to do anything besides laugh at you and get our kicks reading your blogs. Well, the great © Office knows that some of you do and have done in the past, way more than just this, but that is between all of your consciences and what may pass through your scared little brains as you someday draw your last breath. In any event, dancing with me next May, or out in deep space in any month despite no measurable time out there; here is what is wrong, James T. Burr of the Starship Gloucester of 1973-PCI. Keeping it simple yet subtle, good folks, and bad ones Jason and friends; I knew that eventually these World-Owners would merely shift away from the way they were trading on the stock market, and make me look dumb, as this has been the Opposite-Shooter-Pattern of the Mountainpen, for a very fucking long time. Why my pop and his pal planned this horror, only the fucking top agencies and maybe Mister Snowden know, but in any event, see if I could really give a fucking rats bitch eating stinky ass, YO. What's done is done, Dogs, and DMK said it perfectly in the late first decade of this barking century and millennium, and yes, I forgot ''decade after decade'', thank you Drew! But in long run play, no matter what they do to try and fuck up my credibility, they cannot do it by proving me WRONG about the endlessly bullish DOW JONES STOCK MARKET, and yes GINA, I MOTHER FUCKING TOLD YOU, SWEETIETRON!!!!!!! Maybe I am taking this to an absurd extreme, but at least I did not word this the way I could have, WL of 2293. Now, how about the 'random' draw so to speak in my discourse several blogs back on the way social networking sites ''really'' operate and function. Of course it is not random. That is why I was clever in my words. I even went as far as to say that I have enemies with great power, and the great mighty crew from Washington knew all of this back in 1988 and 1989 and still have the fucking cassette tapes sitting someplace to this very ass day, YO. I would love to have a random chance, but I don't. You can all hit a lottery, even post up a video that might be selected to be super pushed. I CANNOT, because 'THEY' have me on an endless ''KEEP HIM DOWN AND FAILED LIST''.

I need to word shit very carefully, folks. I know what is going on, and what I am saying; AND DOING. I told you I had a conversation with a powerful dude, but what you don't understand to this day, is hyperspace and dreams; and just how fucking EXPLORATRONICS really operates in life.

I was not told my Youtube experiment would end up like it did by a mere relative of a very well known artist. Nor was I receiving communications from this same person in ways that folks understand, who refuse to believe in the reality of exploratronics. There is a parallel universe where a lot of shit is happening that is so mind fucking boggling, it cannot ever all be blogged, even piecemeal. The dude who told me this, is the director of ops at NASA, in the dimension or parallel reality where a highway goes from Vineland, New Jersey, straight into the Beltway of DC, and I am a paramedic. Do not confuse this with another wild location in hyperspace where I live on London Avenue, in Egg Harbor City, New Jersey; and my daughter Paula King Junior or (PEE) as she insists on that nickname; was traumatized by the death of her father, me, and literally ripped a dozen New Jersey State Police Officers to shreds, at the home of one of them; and was sentenced to the Harborfields Detention Center, of Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, until her eighteenth birthday; but this was commuted to her sixteenth birthday after she invented the most incredible computer, where a type of humongous sized scanner-laser-printer allows things to be sent over the internet, literally turned into zeros and ones, just ten years or so before in this universe, a similar invention has made the news recently about a plastic gun, and all geeks know all about this, only this invention altered the entire civilization. Anyone who tells me I do not have the two most incredible daughters in the galaxy, does not fully understand me or my situation in five dimensions. All that said, nothing is of any real shock value. I TOLD YOU ALL, the stock market will not stop going higher and higher and higher, and this is precisely what it's doing, and will be doing for many years to come. What I have not told you is that complicated things can be manipulated in normal circumstances, by dream-control, all throughout much of the localized fifth dimensional hyperspace. I may have said this or that, and some tid bit; but I have never told you why I can make things spin around, or think about forward motion, and propel myself ahead in water, as Joan at HW Swim Club not only witnessed, but hopefully did not make any unpleasant donations to the swimming pool as a result, K-MART! I have a ton of other smelly things to talk about too folks. Much of it will be saved for other times. Mister Ortley, Mister Ortega, and Mister Burdick, are three characters from slightly more distant hyperspace universes, who I am in regular communications with, and only these three, but as things localize and come closer to our atomic frequency agreements here; there are a dozen or more characters of regular meeting. If a lady named Patricia Hollister in maiden name, had not worked along with my mother in this exact universe, back in the late sixties and early seventies, you are all clueless how powerfully different things would be here in this world right now and for an entire generation. First, Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, both end up as small time executives at companies that went bust by the time they were 40, and neither man ever was so much as a millionaire, let alone, altered the world with all of this software. But so far I have not made things clear, and on purpose, as to why I am in so much trouble. This is because I fear telling this even though I will not be believed, your deeper unconsciousness folks, all know the same truths that I know on a conscious level, and things could get very hot for me if I say too much, no matter how many crack-pot lists and tin-foil hat lists, they endlessly keep me on, for sake of planetary agenda, of course. Unless you believe the real truth about Triple-Goddess, or Mother/ Daughter/ Electron, (MDE) you can pronounce this as MIDDIE; it is pointless to talk on much further. Only in a very very few parallel universes to this one, am I also destined in this exact persona as the me who I am awake and living in as Mark Wayne Mohr, has been contacted directly on this powerful a level, by Middie. Once this happens, two things are automatic. The actual illusion of time that you were to believe this single contact-point ever took place, is meaningless, and in reality, it runs from the second of birth to the second of death, illusions, but real to most hyperspace lower type exploratrons, most of you, in other words, very very very very Ingrid-83 most of you! When contact is a reality, all non contacted reality is estranged from you. This is the evil twin part of the contact. When this force comes around me as Lightning, all the birds observe this interaction between us, and they all know me and they really do follow me around and talk to me. I tuned out their actual words long ago, and just hear the twits and the tweets like all of you, but I could just as easily hear them, any time I wish to. Contact also does one more thing. It makes you a lot more user friendly and normally interactive with the nature forces all over, and this includes the forces that supposedly bind things all together, and fall into itself, as a result of a mind signal from a higher dimension than hyperspace, creating STM, but also, creating a person who can alter the direction of a 500 pound motor rotisserie in a diner, and move along in the water at an endlessly high speed until I would drown myself. My days of playing with all this shit are over since the world is so totally under continual visual observation, by all of us, peeps with all of their cellphones, Google Earth Satellite Systems, and on and on and on I could go. I really have no need going on any more right now, as any door that I open up from this point, leads into a minimum of tens of thousands of additional words just to scratch the fucking topic's surface, YO. There is no unsolved question or mystery, not the pyramids, not why we are here, not where the sky ends either grand-daddy. Still, I have indeed recently learned the full power of CONTACT. You CANNOT tell, you CANNOT prove, and it is all just as if there were a MOGOSP running on internet-2, 3, or 4; something none of you need to be remotely aware of right now, but these are channels of it when it is split into channels, where robotic and spam ops are not interrupted, so that MOGOSP can run successfully, and on these channels, using what is now considered as SPAM or robot-ops, would be for the most part meaningless, or as meaningless as knowing that most things don't matter one bit, as all things are rapped up in illusions, or less politely said; in lies.

When my dad talked about my future friend, David Roth, he said that we would meet at a mall kind of a place, and both be working there, and probably together. That too came to pass, with perfect accuracy, in November of 1985; with or without any cry's over Diana, or songs called, I'M CRIANA, copyrighted that year, MMCN, so laugh, moron!!! But did my dad ever discuss the dude I already met just less than a year back at the PCI? Sure he did, without my even saying BOO about him, he knew of him, but only in his, yes you guessed it, “PILLOW TALK”!!!!!!!!!!!!

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I AM GETTING OUT OF DODGE, CAPTAIN CALLIO, SCREW-U!

THIS IS MORIANITY CHAPTER 00144, IN PART 5.

***Never risk follow the follow. ***

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http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/

Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

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{{{{{{(((('O-H***S-H-I-T'))))}}}}}}, BY GOLLY GOOD FOLKS, YO, here is the situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson Hollywood:

Jupiter, Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

W—O—W

THANK YOU FOR SEEING ME TODAY, MY ENDLESS LOVE!!!!!!!!

BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.

MY BABY-BLOND DIANA ZUDLECRONESSIA ARTEEMIS.

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My blogs

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
• Morianity Foundation
• The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version
• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

About me

Gender	Male
Industry	Non-Profit
Occupation	paranormal researcher
Location	Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction	Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
Interests	I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies	all old movies
Favorite Music	most old music
Favorite Books	The Winds Of War, Gone With The Wind, Time Travelers From Our Future

You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?

An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.

If you have read this opening, feel free to skip this part.

FOLKS, AS I SAID TO THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE IN THE LATE EIGHTIES ON MY EPITOME OF HARASSMENT TAPES, GOOD MORNING, GOOD AFTERNOON, GOOD EVENING, WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE. How can I possibly know when you are reading what I am writing? I AM not the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, and never will be, sort of like my old pal David Charles Roth's only show in town. How he would always remind me, seemingly on a daily basis, that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is not the only show in town, nor will they ever be. I believe the tapes are somewhere available in the great Library of Congress, Copyright Office, in Washington, District of Columbia, a place may I add with a very liberated attitude where the age of sexual consent should be placed, and what is good for the lawmakers, is good for everyone else, and if that is not true, just exactly how have I misspelled America? XIII is the number by the way, such a tender age and how the perverts must wonder why this is not common knowledge and all move into our great capitol city, right Roy? I still cannot believe that you told me this, or that nobody seems to know it, know matter how I spread around what you said to me, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This will be the master sheet for PART 5 of MORIANITY.

You may skip through this by scrolling, any time, folks.

December 12, 2006

More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey.  Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. 

Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently.  He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life."  The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title.  He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day.  More importantly, he is insane.  Completely, violently insane. 

Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.  His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet.   And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.  Covertly, of course.   Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.  (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.) 

Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:

Interdimensional Technology (MP3)    Android & Angel (MP3)    12th Planet (MP3)

If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U? Signed, Da' Mountainpen.

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean. Only where RU when I need you, oh lovely AG of FLORIDA??????????????????????????

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**W-Map, courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida TV.**

Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

Advisory Colors Key
	Winter Storm Watch
	Flood Warning
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	Flood Statement

Are you on this thing, BREAD and IF, OR 'as if', Doctor Garrigan???????????????????

A beautiful shot of LUNA, also known as the moon, and 'Goddess Diana', by the Romans.

She is real folks, you will see when you're dead!

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HELP ME PEE, YOU HAVE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29th, and now it is AUGUST 7 girl.

HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, NJ-USA Home | County News | News Videos | Photo Gallery | Directions | Calendar | A - Z | Contact Search Site: Health Social Services Recreation & Leisure Public Safety County Government Planning & Infrastructure Financial Assistance Education & Employment EGG HARBOR CITY'S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING'S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!

YOU NEED TO INVENT THE 74-WORLD-PENETRATOR DEVICE, SO PLEASE TRY AND REMEMBER THIS.

Now we all know why I am under a death siege, good old fucking WALL STREET, WHAT ELSE IS NEW, SAME OLD SAME OLD, or WEIN-SOSO, 4 fucked up whort short!!!!!!!!!!!!!

W----O----W