CORRECTED SPELLING HACK, LAST FEW BLOGS FOR COMPARISON, MORIANITY PART V

MORIANITY PART 5

*****CHAPTER 00192*****

6 SEPTEMBER, 2013, 10:55 PM-EDST, ON FRIDAY NIGHT:

First off, I will be telling some stuff that is pretty out-there, even for the 'Mountainpen'. If this is not a time where you're in the mood for this; even though it will be a clean blog, with no dirty cussing, or fowl suggestive filth of any kind; it may indeed be the time to click that ''NEXT-BLOG'' button at the top of my blog, and come back here when you have a stronger constitution and stomach. Call this first paragraph, your official Caveat Emptor, ladies and gentlemen; as now you cannot say you were not warned. I was originally planning to do this not as a blog, but as one of my UNBLOGGABLE-DOCUMENT pages. I have a few, and it means just exactly what any of you out there with some operational gray matter upstairs, thinks it means; and most definitely no less. I do promise to keep it civil!!!

MORIANITY, PART FIVE, AND PLEASE BELIEVERS AND L-4 FOLKS, TRY AND HAVE YOURSELVES A VERY VERY NICE DAY, AS YOU CONTINUE TO READ CHAPTER NUMBER 00192, OF THE BLOGS OF THE MOUNTAINPEN, AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY!

****ON BLOGGER SINCE JANUARY 2006

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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.

SHARKEY SAYS, THAT HE WILL ALWAYS BE,

THE GREATEST FISH IN THE WHOLE DAM BAY, WHO ELSE?

TIME TRAVELER WRESTLER JESSE KNOWS THIS!

HE KNEW IT IN 1965 AND IN 1986, HUH SAL?

Now I see why I was awakened with major stomach cramping from the WOMO, between 10 and 11 this morning.

Now if you wish to view my true likeness, you need to cut and paste from blogger dot com where I appear, onto your own office or word document system, and then click onto my photo below, and then when a small colored symbol prompt pops up, these will be the 6 adjustments you need to make, in order to restore my true likeness. From top to bottom, 1-6, adjust as follows, then click off and the photo will change: 1---(+11%), 2---(+3%), 3---(-10%), 4---(-18%), 5---(12%), 6---(1.20). Follow these (+), (-), and number settings. If you make the photo wider, I will appear to be fatter, and if you make the photo longer and more rectangular, I will appear to be thinner, than my true appearance. It is set for exactly the way it should have come out originally, but because as usual, I did not get my money's worth; it did not. This is why we all look much fatter on the television. For reasons that elude me, they do not properly compensate the video reproduction of their transmissions. Of course, how many of you are as tired as me of the cable and maybe all network broadcasting, where the video and the audio for ten or more years are about 2 seconds out of proper synchronization. I sometimes force myself not to look at the mouths of those speaking, but try it, you will see, I don't imagine stuff, nor make stuff up. I really don't have the time.

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

***888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888******

Eventually, I will find a way to get these images properly into my documents of my computer, so that it is not just a cut and paste job. Then maybe I can send the photo-bucket peeps, a new photo of this, that will post up instead of this horrible non-likeness. So to see me properly; adjust to those settings, thank you. The wide to long angle is perfect so if you change it, please, unless you want me to look extra fat or extra thin, as did the copy place who took my money, back about a year after I started blogging, and Ed Lynch and a lady who also was a patron at the Public Library of Hammonton, New Jersey, helped get my CD-PHOTO transferred onto the photo-bucket, and then onto my blogger dot com web-page.

FOLKS, I WILL TELL YOU A LOT MORE ABOUT THE EDUCATOR FACTION OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND, AND JUST WHAT THEY HAVE BEEN DOING WITH THINGS LIKE GODS, ALIENS, SAUCERS, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, AND ALL OF US; FROM PYRAMIDS TO ANY MIRACLE OR UNEXPLAINED THING THAT ANY OUT HERE CAN POSSIBLY EVER THINK OF TO ASK ME, but first; I will say what needs to be said for the blogs of this time. Then we will move back into this powerful topic. I will not forget!

The 'WOMO' hacked my air conditioner late this afternoon, and it finally works at 10 PM.

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

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Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
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Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

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Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Number 29 will show up soon, they say it can take a year, who knows, WHAAAAAABIT?

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Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

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I am bruising and cruising, and riding the tide of misery, Mister Plato; my old friend from so dam long ago. How lucky these normal folks are, not to remember so much, or said better perhaps, being able to come into this videogame with top end programming. Even jacking into this super cool virtual reality, relative to some greater so-called more real-reality beyond our lives here; the best programs allow one to jack in and enter this side of the screen, wormhole, or whatever it 'really' is; with a completely erased prior memory of anything. It heightens the excitement of this videogame tremendously; and my cheaper program may have worked for most of my youth, but early into my jacked-in adult-hood, it began to break down on me, and hence; I began to remember the other side of the screen, more and more and more and more and more. GET IT yet anybody?, integrated southern schools of the Latecomers Club all notwithstanding. W-O-W!

Well great peeps, let's get down to CASES now, as promised.

SPEAKING OF ''CASES'' GOOD FOLKS, IS THIS REALLY ONE OF MARK WAYNE MOHR'S LIFE JOURNAL CODED POEMS, AGENT STEVE CARUSO, OF THE GREAT AND WONDERFUL FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION? HAY, I KNOW THAT NONE OF THIS JUNK WAS ANY OF YOUR FAULTS. YOU'RE ALL A GREAT TEAM. KEEP IT GOING, HOT AND STRONG BRO! MY DAD ENJOYED DIVING FOR YOU. THANKX 4 THE PHOTOGRAPHS THAT YOU GAVE TO MY MOM, BACK IN THE NINETEEN-SIXTIES. I DO NOT HAVE THEM ANYMORE, BUT THEY ARE UP IN MY MEMORY. LONG LIVE HERBERT H!!!!!!!!

What I now will tell all of you, may get me most likely sent off to Buzz Island, or perhaps even killed by TAWF. But as I said on that song opening intro quite some time ago, ''HERE WE GO''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As we now approach three minutes shy of 12 midnight here in the Southeast Coast of the United States; we will really get down to those promised cases, and right now, folks.

Some of you know about Haddon Township High School and the Guidance Counselor, the goddess only knows how he spelled that wild Italian name of his, Mister Jaqamini, if spelled as pronounced; and how he recommended my attending the special-education school, a mile and a half or so away, in Haddonfield, New Jersey; whose teachers that were my five main ones, while there until the end of January in 1973, when I reached the age of eighteen years and two months; were, and in order first to final; Mrs. Marola in February of 1969 through late June of that year, and then in chronological order, Mister Richard Marcucci, Mister David Leigh Smith, Misses Mildred B. Young, and Mister Daniel Mackey. If I were to take just these five nice folks and put them into a magical ball of a sort, as if turning them into one entity; this entity would make the Wizard Merlin, and about 90% of the ancient wisdom's of the Chinese Culture of antiquity; appear somewhat tame in a comparison. I promise you that, WOMO and MO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, let us just open here with Mrs. Marola and Mister Marcucci, those who were my legal educators between 9-3 five days weekly for the basic 180 school day calendar years in 1969-1971; only things are never as simple, with me; as 1-2-3, huh Diana my endless love????????????????

Now before we go back to this topic, and just to drive Terry Egghead of Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, as nutty as all dam get out, squared; I will sidetrack off this point and onto a tangent. Things connect up, but only I know how and why, and only I need to, at least for right now, without renaming Dawn King, all over again, on or off of any Easter Sunday's of abduction cases, and or any alien invasions; or any other wonderful fantasies, enjoyed by all the Ufologist peeps, and those on similar treks and pathways!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What I will now tell you has to do with yesterday, or when I started this blog, it would have been today, but today turned into tomorrow while I was doing it, because time passes, or as gorgeous Paula Patton might put it, '' Time's a wasting''. Well lovely Paula, we'll get it all back, so don't worry too much about it, and just ask the great Gary Stone, should you not wish to take my word for it. I am quite sure that the mighty land owner, BIG-O will confirm sending my mom that lovely post card in 1988 to our Moorestown address. How I just love that wonderful adorable terrific entertainment industry, and the media in general; all the same thing; spewing their lies about viral videos and so many other things. There is no such thing as a viral video. All posts go to a start-page. There is no way anyone anywhere except for those who post it up, even know it is going up there. There are folks inside journalism, scanning this start-page, for those videos they choose and decide to promote. These will 'go viral' now. They're not going anything, they're being, and this is not a pun, MC, I promise, ''PUSHED''! If you have 1000 friends and they are all young, and all are popular people, and have many friends; and you tell them about a post you put up, and send their cellphones the link; now maybe you will get between 3-30 thousand hits. Who knows? Then if the media catches it, and likes it, for whatever reason, really likes it; they PUSH IT, they promote it; so it goes viral. Why wouldn't it? They broadcast it over their national television networks for one thing, and many other things, and from there, sure; then it takes off. You can choose to 'pay-promote', by Googling sites that will pop up from typing on a Google search, two words, ''Youtube Views''. You can then pay networking sites to ''deliver'' to your account, on any video you paste the link to them on, anything from bulk amounts of comments, views, likes; or all of the above. If you have a hundred grand to promote yourself; you can become an internet star, in your fantasies. Unless the media gets behind you and likes both your stuff, and you personally, FORGET IT. You can pay to have a million views, and you will still be a silent internet celeb, and that is all. I have had promoters in the nineties, paid to have my music played all over the world. But if you are NOT LIKED BY THE OWNERS OF THIS WORLD, you will go nowhere, not ever, not really. YOU WILL BE WASTING YOUR EFFORT AND TIME, AND I TRIED TO MAKE PAUL PEDERSDEN, MY PARTNER IN THAT STUPID 'SPR' RECORD LABEL, WE STARTED IN 1998, BELIEVE THIS; AND HE SCOFFED, AND LAUGHED, AT ALL THE STUFF I TOLD HIM. I was in this bizz folks when my daughter was in elementary school. I know a lot of stuff, and all of the major secrets. Don't treat me like a crack pot, emmereffers; you might live to be real sorry for that mistake. You too, you scumbag lying trash down to my south; pricks. Karmic wheels, jerk offs; your cuzz did you, you did me; but time runs both ways. Your cuzz did you, after you did me wrong; in antimatter black-space universes. Never forget that I know about two things a lot more than most out here breathing. Music and physics, these are my subjects. Whether you all want to believe me, or you may laugh at me; and all that will alter reality, by about zero percent, BRO. That is GOSPEL!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now we could talk for days and nights straight here, and not cover how music has been such a major problem and headache, in my personal life, ever since about 1975; with a real duosh bag named Lou Sause; and it only got worse and worse and worse and worse, and I know why; and it is beyond what 100 super brains out here can fathom, so I won't even begin to bust open a can of worms like this, or kick a giant hornets nest by the name of CALLIO, to quote Mister Truce-20-Grand Dave Roth. All I am going to say, is that I know certain things for a fact, unlike others, not from books or schools or even other people; but from life experiences, that other folks never seem to travel the roads even close to those that I have driven on for a very long freaking time, BRAH. My two first teachers did two powerful things, all previously discussed, and this government knows the details, as if nobody else does, I know they read my blogs. A child can know that small amount of crap, without straining any gray matter. Now take today for an example. They screwed with the intermittent problem I have had for a year or more now with my air conditioning unit, and they gave me major morning stomach cramping to pump up the Dow Jones when things looked technically real bad on their charts, and would have gone much farther south and downward if not for these persecutions of me, as always. A moron who is going through my life situation and surviving it (A CANONIZING MIRACLE GONE UNKNOWN), could not help but begin to see unmistakable life patterns that simply put, Detective Ed Green Maria, ''You can't even argue it, it's science''. Stuff that is happening each minute, each day, each year, it all makes perfect sense and fits a pattern precisely, more so than any Swiss watch that ever ticked on this messed up little planet, folks. But it is not always mortally simple to see through things, until a lot of water runs underneath the bridges around us. Much later, if we want to see these truths, they begin to reveal themselves to us all, more and more; with new current events, that take place all around us. This is so major, what I am saying; if the powers of this world, really thought that any real caring sufficient number of viewing audience, was reading, AND ''GETTING'' these words of wisdom and truth; I WOULD BE ON BUZZ ISLAND BY SUNRISE, and THAT is a total promise, great Star-Trek ROCKDROID, of the Shitsapookna universes, BRRRRRR! A dozen little simple truths that I know, and none of you do, and I mean none of you, except those tapping my phone and bugging my entire life for 60 years. What I know is more deadly and emmereffing dangerous if just a few persons with real clout ever joined me as a team effort to fight this EXPLORATRONIC MESS, all the previous wars and battles ever fought on this world of woe all combined, would compare to a couple of Tom Cats fighting over a heated-female in the local bushes. I know I sound like a horn tooter, but I'll tell you this much folks. The entire freaking White House knows that there is something to my words, and if they did not; they would not be a part or a party to all of this unfathomable criminal behavior against me, for most of my life, if not really, since the dam day that my mom dropped me on the streets of Philly, on my head; while carrying me across the street, and over to a local doctor's office, for a routine check up. I dared to say something about the medical world; and then when it was time to see my doctor; all hell broke loose. Then I said something here and there, and unless my followers are as dense as a jungle in the Amazon, you all see how stuff keeps right on happening, and if you really can give me the credit to be able to pull all of this wild story off ahead of time; or make it all up in the first place; WOW; that is a compliment that I need to learn to accept; because you are basically, whether you like it or not, if you're saying or thinking this about me or to me; then you are telling me that I am better, and more talented than all of the professional fiction writers in Hollywood, all combined emmereffing together, and SQUARED, BRO! If indeed this is what any of you keep insisting upon, well, Morianity is failing, yes; but still, THANK YOU! This is one hell of a compliment, Mister Star Trek Copycat Data, YO!

Now forget that anti-pollution commercial in the late sixties, forget about Misses Marola and the insistence on her part in May of 1969 for me to do that school play on Memorial Day, and forget that hallway talk with myself and Count Von Marcucci Shavecutter Thaxton Mindblow; about how I could be a father, ''chronologically''. Forget all that. As if we can, but just do it for now. Let's keep all that crap in reserve as a paperweight that adds the necessary ballast to the submarine later after I continue onward with some really wild newer and never told stuff. Forget Ciprionni and the Zane hypnosis, all the time trips, all the robberies, all of it. Forget the Callio branch of these unfathomable star people, AKA the mighty KENNEDY'S, and all their in-law branches that no one knows jack about except for 'Hair' and myself, and relax Donna up in the future, not you!!!!!!!!!!! Morianity has indeed preached for nearly eight freaking years now good folks, all the wild stuff about the seventh dimension and all that happens as things move below it, into what and where all of us, and our so-called lives presently are; as this cannot ever be rationally told to humans; and I realize all this now, years too late, as Scylla might say. But you know what? Gab could kick in here again, speaking of all devils; as she puts it only I promised not to do a lot of cursing here, 'EF' it, because it is time to show you a few things, and not just talk. Now when I showed you all how to work parallel event on roulette, or how to work the 'Fascitar-6-10' system, well; if you never experimented yourself, and had no time or interest; then that is your loss; as I did not just print words. I gave real instructions that could take you to the stars and beyond, or in the case of down to Earth capitalism, and Trumpitis; could have made my readers a hell of 'a lot of' Bobby Brown 'Lost Love' song ripped off 'cash', from 1989, and no Jane and bobby; I don't ever forget; and I don't ever FORGIVE Not stuff that big, and THAT EVIL; so sorry, Mister freaking Ambassador, YO, BRO. WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The next things that will be given out, as experimental instructions for my Morians; will be coming real soon; and will have to do with taking my blogs; and seeing the truth of it all, by doing some real simple things. But I must know when and where to stop, and just how far I am safe to go. If I don't think that anyone ever has my back; and that I am just committing slow excruciating frikkin' suicide, by talking too dam much; then I'd be a total dam ass fool to keep placing myself into such incredible amounts of harm's way!!

I am extremely disappointed in the intelligence and loyalty of most people living here on this messed up little world we all call home. I'm very hesitant to show stuff that would alter life here on a frikkin' dime, but I'll say this much as far as what I will do in 6 more years, if things stay this god dam nightmarish for poor frikkin' me. In 20-20 there's an official US Census coming up. I will tell the powerful truth of the great SUMMER OF LOVE IN ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, unless somebody comes clean real dam soon, in this dam ass miserable family, Sarah Rotten Callio and Paula stinking King. I'm tired of these abductions, and I';m equally sick and tired of these DAYMARES all running along with this. ***********THIS STOPS HERE.***********

TAKE ANY BLOG YOU READ IN MORIANITY, good people out here; and then go back a blog or 2 or 3 or 4. You cannot help but see the one huge Marola Trick going on by some World controller force out there in the ESS, or as Bob Andrews may say it late in his teens, at Pileggi's basement, during band practice, in 1975; ''WHATEVER''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not even the great Mr. Eisenstein could pull this trick off. It is as big as the intro word ''MI'' is, on those 1986 ''REAL GOOD GIRL'' tapes, sent down to the US Copyright Office back in freaking 1986, BRAH! Peeps who live in the reverse-time order universes, are here amongst us, and MY BLOGS PROVE THIS BEYOND A DOUBT. This all makes the entire Roswell, New Mexico incident, compare as kids playing in a sandbox. Why won't any of you see this; are you all THAT TOTALLY BLIND?

THIS WAS A CORRECTION BLOG, THE OTHER ONE HAD A MILLION FREAKING SPELLING ERROR HACKS IN IT, YO!!!!!!!

Now, shall we move this along and copy the prior blog so you can compare and see some of my points made, without having to click anywhere into the right margin, WHAAAAAA?

MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER CXCI

3:08 A.M.-EDST, 6 SEPTEMBER, 2013, FRIDAY

The Beginning:

Folks, I sincerely apologize for all my fowl mouth ranting and some really nasty and disgusting things that I said. My Huntington side of the family are turning over in their graves I'm quite sure, looking at it the way normal human beings see stuff around them, not realizing what the king of physics and his world renown formula really proves. It proved so much more than some of the hyperspace is not speaking German on this continent in 2013, and we need not get into the specifics. This is an apology blog, I will try and behave myself, I can see my daughter on that Haddonwood machine back in late 2008 after the shoe tossing episode, and that is how I am behaving and acting. I really am, to quote the Japanese Ambassador, in or out of Senator Thompson and Red October's, ''SO SORRY''! Thank you for warning me ahead of time that I was going to have another bad day, Diana, back earlier.

The End

Well folks, this is but ANOTHER NASTY ASS BOTBAR TIMES

TWO FOR ME, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is now three mother fucking minutes past four this late asshole Thursday botbar ass afternoon, and I AM ONE CUNT EATING ANGRY MOTHER FUCKER. This is now 6 out of the last 9 days, OF DEATH SIEGE ATTACK BOTBAR, FROM THE MOTHER FUCKING WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, YO YO YO YO!!!!

This is now three mother fucking minutes past four this late asshole Thursday botbar ass afternoon, and I AM ONE CUNT EATING ANGRY MOTHER FUCKER. This is now 6 out of the last 9 days, OF DEATH SIEGE ATTACK BOTBAR, FROM THE MOTHER FUCKING WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, YO YO YO YO YO.

Those freaky little coinkeedinks, huh peeps? But for those few who know a little now about what MORIANITY has been preaching for about seven and a half of these past thirty years, with these blogs of Mountainpen; you know what is going on, and you know that nothing is really real, and all things are but a creation. But there is a lot more truth involved with all of this, right down to and including the great words spoken in Biblical Genesis, and,

Only the opening title words are real.

///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®

MARK WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2013

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*****KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL-1980 (R)*****

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PLEASE CONTINUE NOW TO READ

MORIANITY PART FIVE, CHAPTER 00190. TANKS FOLKS.

The minute I turned on the computer, the fucking diseased mother fucking ENEMIES hacked the time back an hour earlier. WEIN, SOSO??????????????? I had to go into my control-panel and reset it, these cunt sniffing jerk off farts never get bored harassing me, 35 years of this mother fucking shit. My question 2 all of U out here is quite fucking easy. If these are normal HUMAN BEINGS DOING ALL OF THIS 2 ME, why would they be doing this for half of a lifetime, I mean really, am I T-H-A-T freaking important???

Well, obviously, whether I can deal with this, or you can either, I AM, or else, OTHERWISE THIS WOULD JUST NOT BE GOING ON ENDLESSLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes people, this will be a very interesting next few days. Of course this is merely print, and we are not so blessed with Doctor Carey and her heavenly voice, and this should have been written a year in the future on the end of the twenty-seventh day of August. Only it is no few days, this shit has begun on August 28, and gone on now through mother fucking today, the fifth of September, George-Dog, Bell-tone! The great Lab Technician of Grant Avenue is another story, my wonderful and oh so lovely and talented, the one and only Exploratron Daughter, 1100-Rome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, this is now, just in case you may be interested at all, a live camera shot from south Melbourne Beach, here in Florida where it is now 87 degrees at Fort Pierce at half past fucking cunt four this late ass Thursday afternoon, dogs, and WEEEEEEEE-NA WELLS also!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Local CamsCool CamsCity CamsTraffic CamsMore Live Camera from South Melbourne Beach, Melbourne Beach, FL Camera Animation Choose a duration: Today 30 Days* 365 Days* * Broadband connection recommended

Also, in case anyone is remotely interested, good great wonderful people out here in the cyber-world, you are reading THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN and MORIANITY. Also this is now, and yes, to rhyme it WELL FROM HELL,

W----O----W W----O----W

W----O----W W----O----W

W----O----W W----O----W

W----O----W , MORIANITY, PART FIVE, AND PLEASE BELIEVERS AND L-4 FOLKS, TRY AND HAVE YOURSELVES A VERY VERY NICE DAY, AS YOU CONTINUE ON READING CHAPTER NUMBER 00190. AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY FROM 1971.

****ON BLOGGER SINCE JANUARY 2006

***** PROFILE VIEWS---2840

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.

Well, the doors are banging, and earlier my next door nabe had his music up a while, but this was only some of the noise attack, as the great almighty Saint Lucie County Nuclear Plant had its testing day today, racing up the street outside of my sixth story fucking window, with that lady who shouts out on a five kilowatt plus bullhorn, ''This is a test, this is only a test'', and then hits the siren button that is 10 times louder than a normal cop car's siren, at least in my humble opinion, or for a short long ago internet slang word that I did not make up, ''IMHO'', not to be confused with Ivanhoe.

This has been the 6^th Botbar Day since this August 28 attack began, producing for me a fucking nasty ass ratio of botbar days since the 28^th of last month when it started, 6:9, making things have a rounded off 67% MPB. (Magnetic-Percentage Botbar)(MPB), Like DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now let me break it all down for you, my loyal kind Morians, and any and all Lessians or Inbetweenians who may be part of the ESS and or the mighty and Astral Plane cult human doppelgangers, known as the Lambriggers, and I stress again, PUBLICLY, MISTER GRAHAM SIR; this has nothing to do, at least to my tiny little limited ass knowledge; with Lambrigg, England; so hold tight and relax, great Queen. God were you gorgeous when you were twelve, Jesus Almighty!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here is the mathematical breakdown of the MPB since August 28 of 2013, and if this turns out to be another August of 1986 mother fucking deal, I PROMISE THIS ENTIRE WORLD, I WILL SEND POWERFUL SPACE DEBRIS, STRAIGHT INTO THIS WORLD AND END ALL OF HUMANITY, SO KNOCK IT THE HELL OFF, PLEASE, YO!

AUGUST 28, 2013--------100 MPB

AUGUST 29, 2013--------100 MPB

AUGUST 30, 2013--------100 MPB

AUGUST 31, 2013--------075 MPB

SEPTEMBER 01, 2013---080 MPB

SEPTEMBER 02, 2013---067 MPB

SEPTEMBER 03, 2013---057 MPB

SEPTEMBER 04, 2013---063 MPB

SEPTEMBER 05, 2013---067 MPB

These astoundingly negative figures are catastrophically elevated, it is like human blood pressure in an adult of about 250 over 190. Try living with it a while, and fucking watch what fucking happens; kind ladies and gentlemen out here.

Also, I asked the GAGA 'CITTY KAT' why today went BOTBAR with this noise assault that woke me and kept right on going, as well as the entire attack of these nine mother fucking rotten ass days, WHY WHY WHY JIMMY INGRID YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???????????????????????

MY FREAKING ASS RESPONSE WAS PCN-792, AND THE MATCHING LISTED ITEMS FOR THAT NUMBER ARE AS FREAKING ASS FOLLOWS, DOGS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

TWO THOUSAND SEVEN*****JUPITER*****BENJAMIN FRANKLIN*****LONDON AVENUE EGG HARBOR CITY*****REALITY*****IT'S GONNA' HURT BUT IT HEALS TOO****************************************************

Only fucking applying PARALLEL EVENT TO ROULETTE, can ever win, NO SYSTEM CAN DEFEAT THE PERSONAL BAD ASS FUCKING MAGNETICS OF SOMEONE BEING PERSECUTED. I will let out something horrific, as I need to in order to make this powerful point, folks. If you took ten people out of the German concentration torture camps and placed them in with any ten random people in the world, and tested their luck with very easy to do long run methods that will average out numerous random 50-50 picks or draws, and get the results, you will know that all I have preached over nearly 8 years on these blogs is 100% fucking real and 100% fucking true, I would not have to be taking self voluntary oaths, or cussing like a mad man to try and convince any of you how real all this fucking shit really fucking is, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then take the same average ten peeps and test their luck with ten peeps who for a month or a year, whatever, Bob Oak Street-1975; have been in a testing environment ''blessed-house'', for lack of a better way of describing it. Here, someone like me would be eating fantastic food, having an abundance of my favorite beverages, all the dirty filthy fucking sex imaginable with any girl I want, an entire fucking heirum of them and anything goes; now take us blessed ten, and compare our long run averaged luck tested results with the normal average randomly picked ten peeps. Imagine putting the blessed in with the cursed now to get the real powerful fucking difference, and when the world allows this to be test proven in labs and major ivy league universities someday, hopefully; then you will all know just how mother fucking real my words all are, and how real and powerful this MORIANITY FOR THE THIRD MILLENNIUM really truly is, GOOD FRIENDS, AND FIENDS, OUT THERE!!!! Oh yeah, laugh as loud as you want, and laugh out nice and loud, along with the great Laughing Cow Kali Callio, and all of TAWF, but let me tell you all this little pile of stinky antimatter dreamy shitsapookna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When the dust settles someday and Morianity proves itself after I am all dead and fucking gone and ''good Senator Thompson riddance'' to me; THEN YOU WILL C4 yourselves, my friends, and how many times has nothing to do with it; oh great 1969 educator-traveler-technician, exploratron-1969. Is a freaking super MACY-WOW in order right about now?

Still, using parallel event as explained on many prior blogs, to attack the casino fucking game called, 'ROULETTE'; will actually disprove the great half dad of myself, Mister Gene Splicer. He said, and I'll quote this awesome dude, ''The only way to beat the game of roulette is to cheat and steal from the dealer when he turns his back''. He used the word of croupier, a French word for dealer, as doppelganger is a German word for double, nothing complicated going on whatsoever, oh wonderful and cold cruel world out there!!!!! ALL BASIC SIMPLE BULLSHIT, MISTER FONDA-12.

Folks, I have tried hard to master a few things with using these dam ass computers. As you know I tried shit with the Dow Jones charts to show corresponding trading times and my persecutions, but the blogging sites have software that don't allow for it, unless you know a lot fucking more than I do about how to operate a word office program and blog up real professional blogs with no errors, perfect photos, videos, the whole fucking 27 feet (9-YARDS)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am just a little fucking poor down and out dumbo, nobody is around that wants to help me one little bit Irene, I am ''out here on my own'', lovely girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am doing my best, and my fucking best usually cock sucking stinks and sucks, SQUARED, so sorry I'm not some computer ass fucking genius, good people, and thank you for reading me aniwho, and you too Gorgeous Flo, and Poolbox!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

'HEY GIRL', Leticia Tilley. keep Egg Harbor City warm and friendly for my soon return to the area. Florida is just not for me, even though I do remain Mark the

GREATEST FISH IN THE WHOLE DAM BAY, WHO ELSE?????

My wonderful father and his wild ancestors would be an entire blog in and of themselves, and soon, you'll see just where I am going here, as I do not intend to worry about a scratched or bruised feeling of anyone out here, truths need to be told, at least what I know about them, NO MORE!!!!!!!!!!

Now as to my father, forget about his peeps, folks, for now. Just know that what was planned, and this will be my biggest fish tale yet told in nearly eight years of this blogging project (Morianity); and I totally realize this, so let me just tell it and not concern any of us with a proper literary opening. It just gets told, bing bong bang boom, and that's that, Mister Esolph, sir!!!!!!! And no, it will not be long.

A child can see why I was under W||||all Street's guns today.

Somewhere in the time range of the four blue vertical lines above, a fire alarm rudely awakened me, and was done to try and reverse a falling DJIA. Still even after falling, my nabe next door was enjoying some wild Congo type music, waking me again; and this would be the red colored lines following the blue colored lines earlier.

My father was one of the sailors aboard the famous Battleship Eldridge, rigged by scientists, coordinated and led by Einstein himself, during the great Second World War, at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, now defunct, and within a year or two after this history-marker was removed from population-view, my mother was suddenly and quite mysteriously struck with an unknown medical illness, and went onto linger in agony for 26 months, eventually perishing in a horrific way at the hands of very evil members of the ESS (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY).

Now anyone who wishes to purchase the great best seller book, called, ''The Philadelphia Experiment'', of which my dad was a part of; knows that the ship was transported into the early middle eighties for a short time and then returned back again, but why this time. Well, the pillow talk does not skip this piece of colorful and majestic information, but it is not all what some of you may think, so don't die on me yet, anybody, please. You see, the entire great war that we were in was because of a little bit more than just me in my last lifetime wanting to be the controller and dictator of the world. I did, and I was a mother fucking dirt bag tyrant if ever one lived on this Earth, but that is not the whole story, as rarely, is anything that is known ever is. I was told in my last lifetime, by my lovely secret love, Sara J. Karge, that she knew what my plans were, and that if I loved her as I said I did, I would call off my plans. But the great Mormon God Steve Moroni 'Cadilacking' had other plans, and you are right on the money this time, 'Microsoft', the world might have been spared quite a 'shellacking'. I hate to upset peeps in this cave year of 2013 and three quarters, but folks have been traveling the five dimensions, with motive and control over it, since the earliest time that this planet could support our type of physical life to exist upon it. My father remained up in 1983 and 1984, just a couple years after his death physically, carrying out orders from a powerful group inside of the ESS, that neither he or Albert Einstein, ever dared tell about when they got back to the forties and the Naval Shipyard. This secret was just theirs, and mine. They were shown how to splice a gene so that the first and only born son, at least at that time, as I'm sure my dad had plenty of good old times on shore leave with many loose foreign women before this time; but yes, I share two fathers. Not only did all this happen, but my dad was shown how to perform some tasks while actually screwing my mother so as to impregnate her with me, making sure I would retain a lot of the memory and cosmic interests of both these men. Nothing that anyone has done to me in nearly 60 years, is as devastating to me personally, as it would be, should I not have become privy eventually, to all this information. At the time of the sleep-talking, I dismissed most of it, but still, my mind did not ever really forget one dam bit of it.

First off, there are various parts of the ESS. The most powerful and influential part is the part that I label and term, the EDUCATOR EXPLORATRONS. Now before I open this up quickly and get right to the heart and the meat of it all for a later expanded on topic on future blogs; let me tell you something about last night. All night long, to use your way of seeing the world and the truth, ''I had one long continuous nightmare that was more real and vivid than anything here where I now am blogging this message. I was in a very large rooming house, owned by THAT-FAMILY, and Dawn and Ann were running it, and forced me to stay in there. I was never allowed to leave, and I was no sooner in one room, then I was forced out into another room. Most of my possessions were broken or stolen by other peeps staying in these other rooms. I was never allowed to have a room with a shower and bath, and had to share the public baths, of this very large, almost hotel-like place. It was one of the worst longest nightmares that I can remember in years and years and years. Dawn was only in it in the beginning of it, and then it was all the other peeps living there, and Ann King. Shit happened to me that was so awful, I woke up shaking and sweating as though it was 99 degrees in here, when in truth it was a comfortable 72. Now back to the rap up of Pillow-Talker-Dad, of the Fisher Treasure Coast of South Florida.

Someone came in on a particular day, as this nightmare appeared to last months, all in this one night, just as the one did back in August of 1986; and this person told me that I have been selected to go on a Smuckers Jar. I laughed and asked them to please leave, and he kept remarking how utterly amazing it is, as I only look a third of my years. I came to find out, I was 100 years old in this wild interaction. I felt no different than I do now, and I looked no different. I let this man out and told him I would think about it just to be rid of him. Then I tried to find a calendar somewhere, and eventually I entered one of my old rooms where I had something that I had built and resembling a gigantic television but was a lot more. It was at least ten feet long and 6 feet high, just in its screen, and the actual device was 3 feet more in both directions of up and down and left and right. However, someone had shattered the screen completely. I was very angry and as I turned around, on the back of the door to the room that now faced me, was a hanging large wall calendar, circled to the date it was, and it was the same date as this day where the dream was happening, my mom's birthday, same year, no different at all, September the third of 2013. So I knew that I was in localized or mid-distant hyperspace. Still, why was I 100 years old, and why was I no older physically? As this hellish experience went on and on, Ann would come up to me and hit me or spit on me or shove me, and once, even threw a hot coffee pot at me. Later that same day, wondering why I wasn't all burned where the scalding hot water went all over my right sleeveless arm; I observed in the very large kitchen, that only 2 spoons, 2 forks and 3 knives were in the entire kitchen yet two dozen peeps were living in this hellish house of monstrous frikkin' horror. Ann laughed when I asked her about it and said a huge secret is all rapped up in why there is such a lacking in silverware here, yet the place has so many people. I was getting more and more upset. All my personal shit was being violated, stolen, damaged, ruined, disappearing, and I was being forced to get comfortable in one room only to be told the next day that I am to be moved out of there and into another room, each one seemingly worse and shittier than the one I was previously occupying. This shit went on all night almost in a slow plot motion. I got up to drink a cup of water once, got up to piss once and got up to stick ear plugs in my ear for the fire alarm once, and each time fell back to sleep and found myself RIGHT BACK INTO THE NIGHTMARE ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN, AS SCYLLA WOULD SAY IT SO WELL BACK IN 1997; ON HER GREAT WONDERFUL SONG; I JUST COULD NOT ESCAPE IT, AND WAS TOO SLEEPY TO REMAIN AWAKE. Remember, if you see a one underline below a green word, this was originally changed and not put up that way, but then changed back somehow by the software in both the Wordpress as well as the Blogger programs. This is a reminder as you may be seeing these kind of fonts ahead.

As for the day, it was extremely quiet other than for a short time with my next door nabe listening to some real jungle dance type of music, but at least was not blasting his subs.

Another thing that makes me angry is this fucking photo-bucket thing. Somehow, you can post all the photos of many things to your blog, but if you try and re-work your own, it only shows the cheap rotten shot done from photo-bucket originally. To make it look more like me, you need to click on the photo after pasting it to a blank page in your office program. Then when the adjust-features pop up, you need to compensate for that horrible cheap shit done a number of years back by a Jersey copy and computer store, until the jersey that I am wearing comes up very red, and this also restores my hair to its normal color as well, instead of looking sort of oil tan gray.

Well, here is the short story of last week, the worst week in a very long time. First off, anyone knowing me or following my blogs, on this planet, realizes that when the DJIA Stock Market DROPS-FALLS a little bit from prior highs, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE then does all that it can to persecute me to dam hell and back squared, in order to bring it back around to an uptick bullish rally, all over again; and last week was no exception. This has been going on now since AUGUST 15, 1986, on a magical time when I went to sleep one night in one universe, and permanently awoke here, in this nightmare fucking other one, and cannot ever seemingly get back home where I use to live, and where I belong. Where is Dorothy Ozzwald Cuzz, and her magical Babylonian freaking slippers, when I need to buy a pair, over at the 'Skating' Voice-mail Walmart Store, of Hammonton, New Jersey?

WELL, HERE WE FUCKING GO AGAIN, JANE BITCHWEEDSDISEASE, PAGE ELEVEN OF FUCKING ELEVEN. SO LET ME COMPENSATE NOW, WITH SOME LOVELY FIVE NUMBERS.

5555555555555555555555555555 + 55555555555555555 X 555555555555555555555 divided by 555555555, is equal to who the hell gives a rotten slippery smashed tomato?????? I just need to stare at my lovely dam ass fives, YO YO YO YO!

Time for me to crash, good folks. When I get the time, I will tell some really mind blowing stuff. I only hope you can handle it, you know, read it, absorb it, think about it, and not go jumping off any subway platforms afterward. My father ad his heritage allowed him to gain very secret knowledge so that he could help treasure salver Mel Fisher, find his Atocka Galleon, however it is properly spelled; but the other 6 coordinates that I still have very secretly put away, are worth close to thirty billion dollars, at today's gold market prices; factored in along with all of the historical artifacts, precious stones, silver dablooms, and the whole enchalate 27 foot deal. This is a whole different type of hoagie submarine and subway, but wow, I do love their great stuff. But does my dad and his past ancestors, the treasure, the invisibility experiment, my daughter and her family, and so much more all fit into one big unified field theory in the practical applications of life? You better bet they do, sir, Mister Ward Cleaver. And anyone who has not yet begun to figure out just how the invention called, ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL'' all fits into the rest of this, back in 1980, and now as well, Battleship Eldridge; is just not paying a whole lot of attention. I do know that some of the powerful top employees at the great Library of the Congress, not ODF you hacker trash; they know, or at least they know some of it, and whatever they think all connects up, they need to multiply shit by about 100, and then the dots will fuse perfectly, into the picture that reveals plenty of powerful ultimate truths. For now, I am simply too tired to type on.

The only way to stop a fucking hack is to write this before and not afterward. When my photo posts below, click on it and then when a colored symbol pops up, here are the 6 adjustments you need to make to restore my true likeness.

From top to bottom, 1-6, adjust as follows, then click off and the photo will change. 1---(+11%), 2---(+3%), 3---(-10%), 4---(-18%), 5---(12%), 6---(1.20). Follow these (+) and (-) settings.

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

***888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888******

Eventually, I will find a way to get these images properly into my documents of my computer, so that it is not just a cut and paste job. Then maybe I can send the photo-bucket peeps, a new photo of this, that will post up instead of this horrible non-likeness. So to see me properly; adjust to those settings, thank you. The wide to long angle is perfect so if you change it, I will appear to grow fatter, or thinner, than reality has me.

LET'S MAKE A DAY OF IT, SURFER FONTY. SEE YOU OVER AT GENLOW'S PLACE, TRANSDIMENSIONALLY OF COURSE. JUST DON'T LET POWERFUL SHANNON BREAK MY CAR AGAIN, AS THAT PRINT THROUGH CAUSED ME A REAL NIGHTMARE PROBLEM, AS YOU MAY WELL KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING MORIANITY PART 5,

SO PLEASE ENJOY THIS CHAPTER NUMBER-00190.

FOLKS, I WILL TELL YOU A LOT MORE ABOUT THE EDUCATOR FACTION OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND, AND JUST WHAT THEY HAVE BEEN DOING WITH THINGS LIKE GODS, ALIENS, SAUCERS, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, AND ALL OF US; FROM PYRAMIDS TO ANY MIRACLE OR UNEXPLAINED THING THAT ANY OUT HERE CAN POSSIBLY EVER THINK OF TO ASK ME; BUT NOT TODAY ON THIS BLOG. WE'RE BUSY ON OTHER TOPICS FOR THE TIME BEING DOGS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!! Just not right now, I am very tired, and it is very late. But I will be explaining a lot about how these T3E-ED, beginning with the greatest one of all, Misses Marola, from 1969.

---

Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

---

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
All on Page Selected On Page Selected all Pages	Enter your email address:

Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

10 records per page 25 records per page 50 records per page 100 records per page

---

Help Search History Titles Start Over

---

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

---

Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

---

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Number 29 will show up soon, they say it can take a year, who knows, WHAAAAAABIT?

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
All on Page Selected On Page Selected all Pages	Enter your email address:

Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

10 records per page 25 records per page 50 records per page 100 records per page

---

Help Search History Titles Start Over

---

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

555555555555555555555555555

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W----O----W W----O----W

W----O----W W----O----W

W----O----W W----O----W

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« Classical Jew’s Harp Music (MP3s) | Main | “If You Do Not Like, Buy a Record By the Caetano and Do Not Bother Us, Fuck You." December 12, 2006, More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3), MORE OF THESE HATS ARE AROUND THE AREA OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA. READ SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS AROUND THE 500-600 CHAPTER NUMBER RANGE, AND THEN CLICK ON AN OLD REMADE SONG FROM 1983, WOW MISTER MACY, IS THIS THE FIRST TRUMP, THE LAST TRUMP, OR THE MARK OF THE BEAST, AS INDEED, 1+2+3+4 ALL THE WAY UP TO +36 WILL INDEED EQUAL 666, GEE REALLY, COPYIGHT OFFICE OF 1988? HAY, IT IS ALL DOWN THERE FOR THE RECORD. YOU CAN CLICK HERE FOR MORE, ONLY BELEIVE THIS FOLKS, THE MOUNTAINPEN NEVER TITLED ANYTHING, “THE MEANING OF LIFE”, SOMEONE MUST HAVE ADDED ALL OF THIS TO THEIR DEGRADED COPY TAPES, FROM WHAT WAS STOLEN WHEN THEY BOOSTED MY CAR STEREO AT NORTHEAST PHILL’S FRIENDLY RESTAURANT ON THE ROOSEVELT BOULEVARD IN THE FRIKKIN NINETIES. ALL I EVER DID WAS SAY, AND I’LL QUOTE, FROM 1983, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, SO CLICK HERE:

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU

Don't bother trying the link, all my links were disabled by me!!!!!

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.

Posted by Listener Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio Mysteries, MP3s, New Jersey, Religion | Permalink

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Comments:

Yes, I have a comment, friends at WFMU, besides go screw yourself, and yes; I got your accidental message Jason on an old blog comment on Blogger, AHA AHA AHA. Don't look for me on any social networking sites, I don't play these ridiculous games, you all go enjoy that stuff, WEEEEEEEE! Don't try clicking into any of my blog links to youtube, unless they are old blogs showing other videos that I enjoyed and shared. They will still work. I took down all of my stuff, it was for my own personal enjoyment, what was I thinking, sharing all of this with a world of dark-agers???

“The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”

I don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.

Posted by: Goyim in the AM | December 12, 2006 at 02:42 AM

…the link for “Android & Angel” is screwed up. Y’all may want to fix it…

Posted by: King Daevid MacKenzie | December 12, 2006 at 04:01 AM

Sorry about that! I just fixed it.

Posted by: Listener Therese | December 12, 2006 at 09:02 AM

I think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns and christ-blocking shades.

Posted by: Steve PMX | December 12, 2006 at 12:03 PM

Sweet Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could be real, I’ve known folks like him.

Posted by: K. | December 12, 2006 at 12:52 PM

Just sounds like someone responding to internal stimuli, there are many people like this probably an hour’s drive from anyplace in the Northeast. How is this different than getting enjoyment watching a man with a club foot trying to walk?

Posted by: bartelby | December 12, 2006 at 11:14 PM

Hello My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have never been able to find anything on him except his name and the names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″ tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

Posted by: Chris Arter | March 06, 2007 at 06:27 PM

I clicked on the Aquarius link to find Mark from NJ’s CDR, but it was no longer listed.

Posted by: maledoro | August 07, 2007 at 06:54 AM

Aaah, very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album “Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!

Posted by: Fairlight | September 22, 2008 at 02:34 PM

I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:19 PM

I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:21 PM

I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:25 PM

http://mountainpen.wordpress.com/

Posted by: Goyim in the AM | February 24, 2009 at 05:04 PM

Hi. I got to this page while reading about music played on the ‘Jews Harp’. I’ve been searching, for a loooong time, for a song that was played one lazy August afternoon on WFMU, around 1980, or earlier.

It was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging, groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy faaaaavoooriiiite”.

When it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher, psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word ‘things’.

Is there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of it?

It’s been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song I’ve ever heard except for this one.

On that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s ‘Sandwiches of You’

I’ve listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and it wasn’t any of those.

Thanks, for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr at earthlink dot net

Posted by: Tony NYC | May 14, 2009 at 10:44 PM

This fella is MOST DFEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family(Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and sending Atlantic City-residing life gaurds and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him off-gaurd. The only problem being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his latest blogs.

Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March 16, 2012 at 09:00 AM

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W----O----W!

You can learn a lot by watching those great weather channel shows. At first I did not appreciate that it canceled the normal 24-7 weather, but now I am hooked.

Well, Diana is all around me folks, and this blog needs to post up for right now, but a lot more will be told about later on as the days progress, right Gab; isn't that why She made new days?????????????????????????????????????????????

One wonderful thing happened to me today, this horrendous freaking September 5, 2013; and that is after I had been asleep a few hours, around the time of the Dow Jones opening bell, 9:30 AM, Florida and Manhattan time, (EDST), DIANA or you might say (LIGHTNING) came to visit with me, I think she knew that I was in trouble with my enemies today, she seems to know a lot good folks, and WHAAAABIT!

Well, I thought for sure the DOW JONES would be up a thousand points after all this fucking cunt lapping horse shit they're doing to me and against me. I guess we cannot be correct all the time, and what did you just say, Bruce Pennock, my old pal from the seventies? That's right, and I don't ever want him to know who his biggest fan is, as he would get a bigger head than Mister Trump, and that's talking some size, right my old pal Mister Shaq? If I am misspelling your name, believe me sir, it is unintentional, and spellchecker is a totally worthless commodity 90% of the friggin' time, so it seems, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

I am bruising and cruising, and riding the tide of misery, Mister Plato; my old friend from so dam long ago. How lucky these normal folks are, not to remember so much, or actually, to philosophize with you again for a while, one sided of course, unless I can borrow Patty's candles, and maybe Patty too; it is not memory, so much as it is awareness. Total awareness/enlightenment, something old buddy and family member in this wild huge married in clan, Muscles I'll be Baak Arnie, the real total recall. Most people believe that all they really are is the sum product of their remembered time on Earth in one little fragment of truth, their seemingly real present lifetime in three dimensions, stuck in normal or 'regular time'. How sad. How sad this entire mother fucking universe really is, it honestly contains a hell of a lot more frowns and tears than it comes close to having joy and smiles. All happiness is so fleeting, and even the fucking built in illusions are totally within biblical sound reason. It appears like a pretty flower, and quickly it withers away and dies and is gone forever. Shit, it is oceans of tears mixed with a laugh or two along the way. Go ahead, Mizz Knowles Look-alike from Jennifer Washburn's Client List back in Jersey, you just go right ahead and remind me of what a glass half empty kind of a guy I am, SWEETIE!!!!!!!! Hay, I tell the truth, the truth got Jesus Christ put onto a cross, talk about crossing over. Hell, that was no rail road track, Sarah Callio and friends, although some may beg to differ on that issue, with those horrible ties driven through a person's fucking flesh. O---U---C---H!

Oh lovely Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis, I love you with all of my heart. You are beyond hot and awesome and lovely and IWALU times a trillion infinities cubed, and then a lot more than this, my baby-blond!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BUT IS THIS REALLY ONE OF MARK WAYNE MOHR'S LIFE JOURNAL CODED POEMS, AGENT STEVE CARUSO, OF THE GREAT AND WONDERFUL FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION? HAY, I KNOW NONE OF THIS SHIT WAS ANY OF YOUR FAULTS, AND YOU'RE ALL A GREAT TEAM. KEEP IT GOING, HOT AND STRONG BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

REMEMBER THIS IS NOT MY LIKENESS, AND I GAVE YOU THE DECODED SETTINGS FOR SEEING MY TRUE APPEARANCE, WHEN I BEGAN MY BLOGS, AND I HAVE NOT CHANGED ALL THAT MUCH. I MERELY TRY KEEPING MY HAIR A BIT MORE NEATLY ARRANGED, AND LESS PUFFED UP ALL OVER IN THE BACK. IN ORDER TO MAKE THE CHANGES AS I INDICATED; YOU NEED TO PASTE IT INTO A DOCUMENT ON YOUR PC, THEN MAKE THE CHANGES. JUST IN CASE YOU WANT MORE PROOF OF HOW MY MONEY IS ALWAYS LESS GREEN THAN THE OTHER FELLOW'S. I PAID TO HAVE A GOOD PHOTO DONE, THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT SHOULD HAVE COME OUT, AND I WAS FUCKING TOLD THAT DIGITAL IS DIGITAL IS DIGITAL; AND THIS IS NOT TRUE, NOT IN VIDEO, AND NOT IN AUDIO. I KNOW LOTS OF SECRETS SUCH AS THIS, AND WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT ENHANCING OR SHOPPING SOUND OR LIGHT IMAGES. THAT TOO IS THE BEST KEPT SECRET IN THE ENTIRE ENTERTAINMENT WORLD. WELL, NEXT TO THE SECRET OF VIRAL VIDEOS BEING A TOTAL FUCKING 100% MEDIA HOAX, AND I HAVE EXPLAINED THAT ONE ALREADY, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sure it's a coded poem, but what the hell is not, Sherry-Lee Saturn????????????

As Lenny McKinnon said it so well in 1982, ''Good Lord, and a quarter'', WHY ME, all great Pope's at Pote's? Well, that question has lengthy ramifications. We could be a decade on that one, folks. Before we go there at all, let me compensate for Miss Sleaze-disease-weeds-Jane, for this fucking page eleven of eleven hit. THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But what else did this fine gentleman posing as an Exploratron Thug, and the true secret inventor of ''RAP MUSIC'' have to say, to me; and to the world, through me; 33 years in the fucked up future, YO DOGS????????????????????????????

I just had Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis, the great LIGHTNING GODDESS, save my life back a couple of days ago, and then I was awakened quite ill on Monday, what else is new (WEIN) on a freaking ass HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY, SOSO for me (SAME-OLD-SAME-OLD)? I was speaking on the telephone after being up and awake for about three or four hours give or take, and Mikey phoned me from home after leaving his little part time job over at my pharmacy. I told him I better not drive up to his place over at Hutchinson Island, as he needs all the $$$$$$$$$$$$ that he can earn, and does not need to catch whatever type of new WOMO crap they gave me, some form of death beam or basic Chemtrailitis, but whatever it was, and of course, Lightning hears everything that I say on the telephone, and again must have been worried about me. Within a half hour out of a clear sky, blew a bunch of thunderhead clouds, to my left and west, and yes, I fucked up and said right when I meant left a few blogs back, speaking of that gorgeous sunset outside of my window, while sitting here at my computer work station. These MILITUFORCE fucking subskummites have me so fucked up, I don't know shit from a pan of fudge half the goddam time. I reverse directions, and left and right; and always get every fucking ass thing that I ever say or do backwards, JUST TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A MOTHER FUCKING DOCTOR BRUCE TIME TRAVELER GOLDBERG NUT, OR STUPID ASS FUCKING IDIOT, YO YO YO!!!

Aniwho, without any help from other endless Montgomery possibilities of OHMAROLA-EIGHT, Mister Buttwipe McNulty, sir; SHE heard me, and knew I could barely swallow. However, SHE CAME ALL AROUND with her dazzling beyond words lightning. I could have eaten her up for crissake; and within about 10 minutes into the storm, my throat was totally and completely Magnesonic Cherry Hill Really Really real good girl, ALL HEALED UP, with or without strange wall-writings outside of the SAVE A LOT Grocery Store, yes Mike McNulty, I'll do it for you, YO, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

W---O---W, RHM! I am not imagining these things, any more than greedy Mister Fisherman wants to part with any of his great catch, over in Stone Harbor, New Jersey, more than 40 fucking years ago. This was a true story. I witnessed lots of wild shit that we now only see on fucking TV, good peeps. I have lived one hell of a wild and strange, and totally beyond conceivable outlandish life; here as Mark Wayne Mohr.

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU SO, MY BABY BLOND, DZA. SEE YOU AT YOUR GREAT FOREST SHORTLY, MY TALL LOVELY TEEN GIRL. Folks, this blog is just to tell you this one thing, even though I feel like telling you 100 things. Since the past few days, all my machines work intermittently, including the PHA air conditioning system; that of course always functions totally normally, when the repairmen come up in here, to freaking examine the dam ass unit. I could say a trillion things, but all you need to know is that I feel the enemies are real pissed off for several reasons. My daughter made contact with me, the 9-16 roulette system is beyond unfathomable, unfathomably fucking rotten that is, as the shit all crashed when the real bad mags kicked in during this now 9-day and counting FUCKING SUPER DEATH SIEGE.

BUT LET US GET TO LENNY MCKINNON, BEFORE I CLOSE OUT THIS PILLOW TALKING/MOUNTAINPEN SQUALKING WHITTLE BWOG HERE GOOD FOLKS, WHAAAAAAA. Oh Elmer Fudd, where are you when I need you, in or out of the Walmart in any mother fucking year back in decade one of this horrendous rotten twenty-first asshole century, YO YO?

Here was a man who I know little about, but what I do know about, I am going to be telling, start to finish, in shortly upcoming fucking blogs, as I am one pissed off mother fucker, and am planning to get my revenge on my enemies with lots of powerful secret shit; way beyond that of the Howard Solomon Recording Machine Producer Button, or even what you now think about me, electronic-metaphysics, or the invention in 1980 by me, called; ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is all coming, unless you cunt eating bastard enemies out there, whoever you are, and you know who you are and are reading this fucking shit right along with my sympathizers and friends; if my attack since 28 August of this year, does not back off and allow my MPB since this date, to slide back below the 50% mark, and lower still, within three weeks, what I will tell will get me most likely sent to Buzz Island or killed by TAWF. BACK OFF!

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MORIANITY PART 5, CHAPTER 00189

1:21 ANTE' MERIDIAN

5 SEPFUCKINGTEMBER, 2013

EARLY ON THURSDAT MOUUURNING

AND 80 DEGREES AT FORT PIERCE, FL.

BEGINNING THIS NIGHTMARE TRANSMISSION:

LADIES AND GENTS, I HAD ANOTHER REALLY NASTY FUCKING SUPER BOTBAR DAY, (VERY BAD) SAME DEAL!!!!!Natch, their DEMONIC DOW JONES FLEW up 100 points, what else is new on really really really horrible Ingrid days?

This blog will tell a lot of short things, no need to rant on and on on any of these topics, but I'll get SOME MAJOR FUCKING RETALIATION AGAINST THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE with what does get said here, today, bank on that one good peeps and loyal Morians, and whatever, BOB-1975!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This was one of those curious weird type of Botbar Days for me, folks. By this I mean I had some OK things happen as well as lots of bad shit. But nobody wants to hear the little niceties when they read a newspaper, news really means, BAD-NEWS, we all know that, and the media can pretend all they want to that this is not so by airing the little filler junky things, especially about celebrities or crap they make 'go viral', on the social media, by fanning the flame fame, with their media hype; but all of this horse shit is neither hair nor there; Late Mizz Gaines. So we're only going to discuss the bad shit, just like the real old journalism was into; before this new celebrity heaven struck planet Earth, along with the garbage called social-media, and their ever growing 'online sites', and making sports and weather part of the news, and tons of other garbage. To make a quick laundry list, the day went botbar real fast when I went to my doctor and had to hang around for a couple of hours, and not even see my doctor. I did learn, that indeed, a conspiracy was against me all along, and the man who appeared out of nowhere who got me to change my medical insurance, was all to take my doctor away from me. You don't need to know any further details, other than it's being handled. The less I say, I've learned long ago in this nasty ass rotten life, the better. Still, this is what fanned the flames of the Dow Jones stock market system today, via my problem with this parallel event with them, me going down and they going up, it's been a reality around me for 30 mother fucking years, and denying it is like denying you have Cancer or fucking Auto Immune Deficiency Syndrome, will alter absolutely no part of reality.

Every minute that I was home today, I was persecuted by my creditors. This always happens when the stock market is flying upwards. This proves to me without a doubt, all of the claims I have been making right along that the big-business world is harassing me to get their endless way on this ever up-ticking wealthy man's economy. We the ordinary ninety-niners are not one bit better off for any of this, and everybody knows I am speaking the mother fucking truth, the poor, the rich, EVERYBODY!!!!!!!!! I have nothing to prove to a mother fucking soul!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***||||*************||||

These were the areas I tried to show before, fixed up a bit. Today, they would be placed more like this, WHAAAAAABIT:

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I NEED TO PLACE THE ASTERISK SYMBOL INTO THE CHART TO USE AS SEPERATORS, AND EVEN NOW, I CANNOT BE SURE IF IT WILL POST SHOWING WHAT I WANT IT TO SHOW, THE CORRESPONDING TIMES OF HARASSEMENTS WITH PERFECTLY TIMED MARKET ACTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I began this blog, I was playing roulette all evening. My 9-16 system CRASHED. It did not go into TOTAL SYSTMES FAILURE, but would have if I had not quit. We will see what happens if and when I ever manage to pull out of these horrendous mother fucking 'bad-magnetics'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am 1900 dollars below where I was 2 weeks ago, but I need to drop another almost that much to reach total collapse of this system, but take heart, as there are more important things happening than a bunch of hypothetical roulette losses on paper that does not hurt my real-life bank account in the slightest, and I will be getting to this once my little laundry list is finished for th entire fucking day, as it is very important and ties into lots of current shit on my blogs and MORIANITY in general.

I wish to talk about my late pal, and 'degreed-Mason' David Charles Roth from Philadelphia, who I met at a job site, the Caldor Department Store of Woodbury Heights, New Jersey, during its construction and original stocking period. I blogged this before. Along with very peculiar things that were going on, in th middle nineties at Highview Apartments in the fucking days of Haddonwood Swim and Health Club. Somewhere in the spring time of 1996, around the time Paula King raped me for a second time and messed with my memories as well, in Williamstown, New Jersey, and the trip to Carlisle, Pennsylvania was taken by David and myself; a powerful conversation began between us, in David's car, in the rear Highview Apartment parking lot around midnight. He asked me if I would take ten grand, it could have been 20, but it was one of these two amounts; from OTAMM or the WOMO, same diff, in exchange for a truce. I looked at him like he was a space alien and told him, ''No way''. He went onto pursue this for reasons I never came to really know or understand, in fact, it may have started as the lower figure and gone up to the double amount, I cannot tell you that I remember this clearly, not in good conscience, BUT, I certainly remember totally well; the basic shit that I am telling you about; just not the amounts, other than it was in this ballpark. LSS folks, I was quite shocked at the way it all came up out of left field, speaking of ballparks; and how he seemed genuinely angry that I would not accept this paltry figure as a remunerative compensation, for at that time, a minimum of a decade of solid mother fucking hell from these people, whoever and whatever, Captain Kirk, this all really is. Then a year later, he brought the subject up once again, quickly, and when I reminded him of my feeling of total absurdity of even discussing the matter, he quietly dropped it and changed th subject, and it was unlike the first time, as though it never even came up at all. This time forever ended that discussion between us, but it left me scratching my head and wondering about that statement made to me back around early 1993 by Camden County Prosecutor Ron Wirtz, about his, and I quote, ''recent spurious behavior''. When I told him in 1996 about my powerful dreaming interaction where I was taken back to my high school with some ghetto thugs who wanted something I had in my car and were determined to get it, stranding me back in 1968, and how I told everybody that I was from 1997, and I was not, it was 1996 when I went to sleep, and this I totally remember clearly as a tinkering bell, he was very interested and asked me if I could describe these young teenaged black dudes, you know, like do one of those police artist crime sketches. I told him I have the talent of a one year old in art, and can only draw stick figures, and he said he would try and draw either or both of these dudes if I could describe them. I want to make a statement here folks. Shit on TV is so different than real life, all of it. That stuff about drawing accurate faces that we all see on TV, is a bunch of shitsapookna nightmare data, or SND for short. I may use this expression of SND or just say 'SEND', in future blogs, as why not? I am trying to send a huge fucking message out to the world of my plight in eternity, as well as in hyperspace, and the void, don't even get me fucking Eckert July-12 Pharmaceutical going here, lovely lady!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Look folks, I don't know just what's going on around here, butr something sure fucking is. First this snotty shit head takes a hammer to my car hubcap while I am in a psychic shop getting a reading. In retrospect, these peeps are big into this sit, and probably wetre afraid I would get too close to something real big, ahead of schedule, huh Dave Speas??????????????? Time caught up with me, just as you said it would, and so did houses of horror and pain, high school SHARON. Now way up in the future, I had Ryan at Avalon Studio, open up a Facebook Account in my name, and I was instantly bombarded with my old high school peeps, contacting me to friend them. I only went to 2 of the 6 grades there at HTHS, their school went from grade-7 straight up through grade-12. There was James Stoy Elementary going from one to six, and then the high school, there was no middle school, in Haddon Township, New Jersey, not back then anyway when I was actively attending school in the sixties. Yogi Berra begins screaming in my ear after too many of these too coincidental things happening, and then that great 2009 movie, give me a break, there is no way I can be imagining like 200 things, maybe some of it I could be, but 200, please Margie Leo-85!!!!!!!!!!!! Then Dave asks me if I would 'settle' for amounts of money that also are very coincidentally following me in my life,and even in my mom's, such as with her, and that fucking wild dream the day she met Sarah Callio at the ACMUA water company in Atlantic City, New Jersey, about her dad's summer camp on Long Beach island, Brant Beach, and the property and the 20 grand, etcetera, it is all on previous blogs. I stand to gain absolutely nothing, making up a huge wild outlandish fish tale like all of this, NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Running down here to Fort Pierce, does not permit me to escape these wild travelers, despite the question being posed from one of the commenter's on the WFMU page about me. If a few lousy miles would end my problems, no one would be happier about it than mother fucking good old little ME! But let's not even think about ending the discussion of nightly interactions, or dreams, or hyperspace exploratron travel, or any words you all want to use and be freaking comfy cozy with, as there is quite a bit to say on this that all ties together like a perfect freaking ass knot, straight out of the Scouts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was the Camp Miquon deal with my mom in 1997, and the year before that, there was my high school; and forgetting a million other ones that are less relevant with these peeps; there was my re-kidnapping the other night in hyperspace, at the TAWF ROOMING HOUSE, of wherever, and 'whatever', maybe on Oak Street in Haddon fucking Heights, for all I know, BOB!!! Jeese Louise.

I'll tie shit in that will totally blow your mother fucking mind as you read on, I PROMISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ever since 1986, if you ever would read Doctor Goldberg's fantastic book, ''Time Travelers From Our Future'', you would begin to see very clearly, how indeed, there are pathways that take us, once magnetized into them, into greater and greater intensity levels, of both potentially good, or bad universes. Don't see travel in hyperspace as such a far out thing. It is so ashame you cannot see the easy simple truth around you folks, that everything is energy, and your conscious mind is simply a tool that divides by the speed of light squared or (C-SQ) so that we can all experience this material life here, physically. Built within this same simplicity is why humans need to sleep and dream. This is that other two fifths of our fifth dimensional self, and is why on an average, all people of all ages, all put together, tend to need to be asleep about two fifths of the time, and then the other three fifths, they are awake, 2+3 is the full 5 dimensions of our beingness, here, and in th other parts of hyperspace as well. A child who stops denying these truths, can see that MORIANITY is teaching a powerful piece of true information. Screw the psychiatric community and the medical-professional know it all's. These are those same folks who could never find out why my mother had her strange condition strike her on the day after Christmas Day in 1997, and my bizarre medical hell that struck me on the night of June the fourth in 1983, and don't tell me you don;t know someone in your own life who cannot say a few bad things about the doctor business!

But back now to Doctor Goldberg and his book and his discussion of pathways. Do I believe that every tick of the clock, is a movement through both the fourth and the fifth dimensions? You bet your mother fucking British Petroleum that I do, we sixties kids would say, you bet your bippie. Someone has been trying to kill me and torture me and torment me, and make my entire life a living burning endless nightmare fucking hell for all eternity. All I have is my life, these are my facts, I am not mother fucking god all mother fucking mighty, YO. Sorry, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now let's look at hat horrible fucking ''nightmare'' from a couple days ago, at the TAWF Boarding House, where to quote my own words, I kept being placed in worse and worse ''rooms''. Well folks, let us change the word ROOMS, to the word UNIVERSES, and this becomes a very clear composite photograph, cosmically; of my situation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyone who cannot see that, may the goddess help you.

I am not in the mood to get real big ass time into exploratronic travel (dreaming) or anything that attracts the owners of the great boarding house of other worldly locales, but I do want to try at least to make a simple point. It is not like some complicated trip to the moon or Mars or some planet orbiting a local area star someday. That IS complex, and by all means, a stupid risk, when you need not go anyplace at all, but that can be further looked at and talked about at a later time. What I want to try and make a little clearer to my readers is simply this: Your waking life is being brought to you by a brain. Its function is to somehow literally divide reality by C-SQ, and produce this life illusion here physically. None of this is real. It is as real as we make it, as is any other place or thing, we ever DREAM OF. I do not care if you hate this, and don't want to SEE THIS, it is the fucking truth, I swear to GODDESS ALMIGHTY it's the dam ass truth, folks!

I promise you, the DOW JONES WILL BE UP 500 MORE POINTS BEFORE THE WEEK ENDS, WITH 2 MORE TRADING SESSIONS. Every time it struggles to stay permanently above a new semi-kilo-point level, (500 basis points), I go through major mother fucking H---E---L---L! This happens every mother fucking time the dam market is on these rolls at CONTINUAL ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, ever since this fucking nightmare began for me on August 15, back in 1986!!!! I doubt anyone alive could imagine all of this shit!!!!

Those freaky little coinkeedinks, huh peeps? But for those few who know a little now about what MORIANITY has been preaching for about seven and a half of these past thirty years, with these blogs of Mountainpen; you know what is going on, and you know that nothing is really real, and all things are but a creation. But there is a lot more truth involved with all of this, right down to and including the great words spoken in Biblical Genesis, and,

Only the opening title words are real.

///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®

MARK WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2013

}{5555555555555555555555555}{

	I		A		M		S		O		V		E		R		Y		H		A		P		P		Y		4		U		F		I		S		H		E		R		M		A		N

*****KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL-1980 (R)*****

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

PLEASE CONTINUE NOW TO READ

MORIANITY PART FIVE, CHAPTER 00188. TANKS FOLKS.

I totally promise the brevity of this tweet-blog today. It is nearly three in the morning on 4 September, 2013, humpday.

I would be lying if I said I didn't want to shoot that Geico Insurance camel, but I admit I would most likely do just about anything, to make that rotten entire company just vanish into the gods forsaken oblivion forever and ever.

'HEY GIRL', Leticia Tilley. keep Egg Harbor City warm and friendly for my soon return to the area. Florida is just not for me, even though I do remain Mark the

GREATEST FISH IN THE WHOLE DAM BAY, WHO ELSE?????

My wonderful father and his wild ancestors would be a entire blog in and of themselves, and soon, you'll see just where I am going here, as I do not intend to worry about a scratched or bruised feeling of anyone out here, truths need to be told, at least what I know about them, NO MORE!!!!!!!!!!

Now as to my father, forget about his peeps, folks, for now. Just know that what was planned, and this will be my biggest fish tale yet told in nearly eight years of this blogging project (Morianity); and I totally realize this, so let me just tell it and not concern any of us with a proper literary opening. It just gets told, bing bong bang boom, and that's that, Mister Esolph, sir!!!!!!! And no, it will not be long.

|||| ||||

Somewhere in the time range of the four blue vertical lines above, a fire alarm rudely awakened me, and was done to try and reverse a falling DJIA. Still even after falling, my nabe next door was enjoying some wild Congo type music, waking me again; and this would be the red colored lines following the blue colored lines earlier.

My father was one of the sailors aboard the famous Battleship Eldridge, rigged by scientists, coordinated and led by Einstein himself, during the great Second World War, at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, now defunct, and within a year or two after this history-marker was removed from population-view, my mother was suddenly and quite mysteriously struck with an unknown medical illness, and went onto linger in agony for 26 months, eventually perishing in a horrific way at the hands of very evil members of the ESS (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY).

Now anyone who wishes to purchase the great best seller book, called, ''The Philadelphia Experiment'', of which my dad was a part of; knows that the ship was transported into the early middle eighties for a short time and then returned back again, but why this time. Well, the pillow talk does not skip this piece of colorful and majestic information, but it is not all what some of you may think, so don't die on me yet, anybody, please. You see, the entire great war that we were in was because of a little bit more than just me in my last lifetime wanting to be the controller and dictator of the world. I did, and I was a mother fucking dirt bag tyrant if ever one lived on this Earth, but that is not the whole story, as rarely, is anything that is known ever is. I was told in my last lifetime, by my lovely secret love, Sara J. Karge, that she knew what my plans were, and that if I loved her as I said I did, I would call off my plans. But the great Mormon God Steve Moroni 'Cadilacking' had other plans, and you are right on the money this time, 'Microsoft', the world might have been spared quite a 'shellacking'. I hate to upset peeps in this cave year of 2013 and three quarters, but folks have been traveling the five dimensions, with motive and control over it, since the earliest time that this planet could support our type of physical life to exist upon it. My father remained up in 1983 and 1984, just a couple years after his death physically, carrying out orders from a powerful group inside of the ESS, that neither he or Albert Einstein, ever dared tell about when they got back to the forties and the Naval Shipyard. This secret was just theirs, and mine. They were shown how to splice a gene so that the first and only born son, at least at that time, as I'm sure my dad had plenty of good old times on shore leave with many loose foreign women before this time; but yes, I share two fathers. Not only did all this happen, but my dad was shown how to perform some tasks while actually screwing my mother so as to impregnate her with me, making sure I would retain a lot of the memory and cosmic interests of both these men. Nothing that anyone has done to me in nearly 60 years, is as devastating to me personally, as it would be, should I not have become privy eventually, to all this information. At the time of the sleep-talking, I dismissed most of it, but still, my mind did not ever really forget one dam bit of it.

First off, there are various parts of the ESS. The most powerful and influential part is the part that I label and term, the EDUCATOR EXPLORATRONS. Now before I open this up quickly and get right to the heart and the meat of it all for a later expanded on topic on future blogs; let me tell you something about last night. All night long, to use your way of seeing the world and the truth, ''I had one long continuous nightmare that was more real and vivid than anything here where I now am blogging this message. I was in a very large rooming house, owned by THAT-FAMILY, and Dawn and Ann were running it, and forced me to stay in there. I was never allowed to leave, and I was no sooner in one room, then I was forced out into another room. Most of my possessions were broken or stolen by other peeps staying in these other rooms. I was never allowed to have a room with a shower and bath, and had to share the public baths, of this very large, almost hotel-like place. It was one of the worst longest nightmares that I can remember in years and years and years. Dawn was only in it in the beginning of it, and then it was all the other peeps living there, and Ann King. Shit happened to me that was so awful, I woke up shaking and sweating as though it was 99 degrees in here, when in truth it was a comfortable 72. Now back to the rap up of Pillow-Talker-Dad, of the Fisher Treasure Coast of South Florida.

Someone came in on a particular day, as this nightmare appeared to last months, all in this one night, just as the one did back in August of 1986; and this person told me that I have been selected to go on a Smuckers Jar. I laughed and asked them to please leave, and he kept remarking how utterly amazing it is, as I only look a third of my years. I came to find out, I was 100 years old in this wild interaction. I felt no different than I do now, and I looked no different. I let this man out and told him I would think about it just to be rid of him. Then I tried to find a calendar somewhere, and eventually I entered one of my old rooms where I had something that I had built and resembling a gigantic television but was a lot more. It was at least ten feet long and 6 feet high, just in its screen, and the actual device was 3 feet more in both directions of up and down and left and right. However, someone had shattered the screen completely. I was very angry and as I turned around, on the back of the door to the room that now faced me, was a hanging large wall calendar, circled to the date it was, and it was the same date as this day where the dream was happening, my mom's birthday, same year, no different at all, September the third of 2013. So I knew that I was in localized or mid-distant hyperspace. Still, why was I 100 years old, and why was I no older physically? As this hellish experience went on and on, Ann would come up to me and hit me or spit on me or shove me, and once, even threw a hot coffee pot at me. Later that same day, wondering why I wasn't all burned where the scalding hot water went all over my right sleeveless arm; I observed in the very large kitchen, that only 2 spoons, 2 forks and 3 knives were in the entire kitchen yet two dozen peeps were living in this hellish house of monstrous frikkin' horror. Ann laughed when I asked her about it and said a huge secret is all rapped up in why there is such a lacking in silverware here, yet the place has so many people. I was getting more and more upset. All my personal shit was being violated, stolen,damaged, ruined, disappearing, and I was being forced to get comfortable in one room only to be told the next day that I am to be moved out of there and into another room, each one seemingly worse and shittier than the one I was previously occupying. This shit went on all night almost in a slow plot motion. I got up to drink a cup of water once, got up to piss once and got up to stick ear plugs in my ear for the fire alarm once, and each time fell back to sleep and found myself RIGHT BACK INTO THE NIGHTMARE ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN, AS SCYLLA WOULD SAY IT SO WELL BACK IN 1997; ON HER GREAT WONDERFUL SONG; I JUST COULD NOT ESCAPE IT, AND WAS TOO SLEEPY TO REMAIN AWAKE. Remember, if you see a one underline below a green word, this was originally changed and not put up that way, but then changed back somehow by the software in both the Wordpress as well as the Blogger programs. This is a reminder as you may be seeing these kind of fonts ahead.

As for the day, it was extremely quiet other than for a short time with my next door nabe listening to some real jungle dance type of music, but at least was not blasting his subs.

Another thing that makes me angry is this fucking photo-bucket thing. Somehow, you can post all the photos of many things to your blog, but if you try and re-work your own, it only shows the cheap rotten shot done from photo-bucket originally. To make it look more like me, you need to click on the photo after pasting it to a blank page in your office program. Then when the adjust-features pop up, you need to compensate for that horrible cheap shit done a number of years back by a Jersey copy and computer store, until the jersey that I am wearing comes up very red, and this also restores my hair to its normal color as well, instead of looking sort of oil tan gray.

Well, here is the short story of last week, the worst week in a very long time. First off, anyone knowing me or following my blogs, on this planet, realizes that when the DJIA Stock Market DROPS-FALLS a little bit from prior highs, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE then does all that it can to persecute me to dam hell and back squared, in order to bring it back around to an uptick bullish rally, all over again; and last week was no exception. This has been going on now since AUGUST 15, 1986, on a magical time when I went to sleep one night in one universe, and permanently awoke here, in this nightmare fucking other one, and cannot ever seemingly get back home where I use to live, and where I belong. Where is Dorothy Ozzwald Cuzz, and her magical Babylonian freaking slippers, when I need to buy a pair, over at the 'Skating' Voice-mail Walmart Store, of Hammonton, New Jersey?

WELL, HERE WE FUCKING GO AGAIN, JANE BITCHWEEDSDISEASE, PAGE ELEVEN OF FUCKING ELEVEN. SO LET ME COMPENSATE NOW, WITH SOME LOVELY FIVE NUMBERS.

5555555555555555555555555555 + 55555555555555555 X 555555555555555555555 divided by 555555555, is equal to who the hell gives a rotten slippery smashed tomato?????? I just need to stare at my lovely dam ass fives, YO YO YO YO!

Time for me to crash, good folks. When I get the time, I will tell some really mind blowing stuff. I only hope you can handle it, you know, read it, absorb it, think about it, and not go jumping off any subway platforms afterward. My father ad his heritage allowed him to gain very secret knowledge so that he could help treasure salver Mel Fisher, find his Atocka Galleon, however it is properly spelled; but the other 6 coordinates that I still have very secretly put away, are worth close to thirty billion dollars, at today's gold market prices; factored in along with all of the historical artifacts, precious stones, silver dablooms, and the whole enchalate 27 foot deal. This is a whole different type of hoagie submarine and subway, but wow, I do love their great stuff. But does my dad and his past ancestors, the treasure, the invisibility experiment, my daughter and her family, and so much more all fit into one big unified field theory in the practical applications of life? You better bet they do, sir, Mister Ward Cleaver. And anyone who has not yet begun to figure out just how the invention called, ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL'' all fits into the rest of this, back in 1980, and now as well, Battleship Eldridge; is just not paying a whole lot of attention. I do know that some of the powerful top employees at the great Library of the Congress, not ODF you hacker trash; they know, or at least they know some of it, and whatever they think all connects up, they need to multiply shit by about 100, and then the dots will fuse perfectly, into the picture that reveals plenty of powerful ultimate truths. For now, I am simply too tired to type on.

The only way to stop a fucking hack is to write this before and not afterward. When my photo posts below, click on it and then when a colored symbol pops up, here are the 6 adjustments you need to make to restore my true likeness.

From top to bottom, 1-6, adjust as follows, then click off and the photo will change. 1---(+11%), 2---(+3%), 3---(-10%), 4---(-18%), 5---(12%), 6---(1.20). Follow these (+) and (-) settings.

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

***888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888******

Eventually, I will find a way to get these images properly into my documents of my computer, so that it is not just and cut an paste job, then maybe I can send the photo-bucket peeps, a new photo off this that will post up instead of this horrible non likeness. So to see me properly, adjust to those settings, thank you. The wide to long angle is perfect, if you change it, I will appear to grow fatter or thinner than reality has me.

LET'S MAKE A DAY OF IT, SURFER FONTY. SEE YOU OVER AT GENLOW'S PLACE, TRANSDIMENSIONALLY OF COURSE. JUST DON'T LET POWERFUL SHANNON BREAK MY CAR AGAIN, AS THAT PRINT THROUGH CAUSED ME A REAL NIGHTMARE PROBLEM, AS YOU MAY WELL KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING MORIANITY PART 5,

SO PLEASE ENJOY THIS HAS BEEN CHAPTER NUMBER-00188.

FOLKS, I WILL TELL YOU A LOT MORE ABOUT THE EDUCATOR FACTION OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND, AND JUST WHAT THEY HAVE BEEN DOING WITH THINGS LIKE GODS, ALIENS, SAUCERS, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, AND ALL OF US; FROM PYRAMIDS TO ANY MIRACLE OR UNEXPLAINED THING THAT ANY OUT HERE CAN POSSIBLY EVER THINK OF TO ASK ME; BUT NOT TODAY ON THIS BLOG. WE'RE BUSY ON OTHER TOPICS FOR THE TIME BEING DOGS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!! Just not right now, I am very tired, and it is very late. But I will be explaining a lot about how these T3E-ED, beginning with the greatest one of all, misses Marola, from 1969.

---

Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
All on Page Selected On Page Selected all Pages	Enter your email address:

Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

10 records per page 25 records per page 50 records per page 100 records per page

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Help Search History Titles Start Over

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Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

---

Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

---

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

Number 29 will show up soon, they say it can take a year, who knows, WHAAAAAABIT?

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records	Select Format: Full Record Report 1 Latin1 MARC
All on Page Selected On Page Selected all Pages	Enter your email address:

Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

10 records per page 25 records per page 50 records per page 100 records per page

---

Help Search History Titles Start Over

---

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

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 00188. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

TICK-TOCK-TICK-TOCK, JUST NOT 4 ME!!!!!

Despite the majority of viewers not seeing the truth about my posts, in so far as a method to my madness and things repeating as well as almost repeating with various changes made, I'm trying to get you thinking just a little tiny bit more than three dimensionally, I'm not expecting any of you to go the full five with me, but I do know what I am doing, so I hope you do not skip when you think I am just repeating something, a lot more is happening than you would ever believe in a million years, in or out of that state police barracks in 1984, old pal Robert Patterson Cheatley!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Local CamsCool CamsCity CamsTraffic CamsMore Live Camera from South Melbourne Beach, Melbourne Beach, FL Camera Animation Choose a duration: Today 30 Days* 365 Days* * Broadband connection recommended

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On Blogger since January 2006

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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)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.

This is merely a harmony track, I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.

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, TEE-HEE-HEE!!!

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.

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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 WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is September 4.

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 PENETRATER DEVICE, SO PLEASE TRY AND REMEMBER ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!

Now that I have calmed down a little bit folks, since an extremely horrendous and BOTBAR non Paul Simon day; I will try and calmly reconstruct a few things that earlier may have seen even for me, a bit in gibberish.

Two of the greatest things talked about in my blogs as the MOUNTAINPEN or in MORIANITY, you may think of, as either EXPLORATRONS, or AUGUST 15TH OF 1986. You would be within a good thinking pattern to make that selection, but in truth, a hidden cosmic agenda called, REALITY-3 is the real biggest deal in my horrific and sub-vampiric life and cursed existence as the chosen HUNTINGTON. Reality-3 is not something that has ever been totally rationally figured out by me, so I will not pretend for a second that in any way, shape, or form, it has been, merely I'll remind my readers that it has to do with the theory that perhaps, and only perhaps, one larger truth and ongoing nightmare is causing both of my PARALLEL-EVENT situations, of one-me being up or down, and two-'THEY' being winners or losers in a very strange trilogy of events, these being the Dow Jones, the Philadelphia Phillies, and the Philadelphia Flyers. All I can say in good conscience, is that I cannot prove satisfactorily no matter how hard I have tried for more than twenty-six years now; whether there is or is not, a REALITY-3, or whether just the parallel event itself, IS EVERYTHING, and why it all began on one exact night in the summer of 1986; also remains a total elusive mystery. Still, one fact remains undisputed. Since this hell started around me in 1986, only the year of 1994 seemed to be magical. It totally cut me a break. Things, big things started to go my way in almost unfathomable ways. Why? Because the Baseball Clubs went on strike, so there was no Phillies season. Then in the autumn, the HOCKEY CLUBS went on strike, so DUH, there was no Flyers Season, only there was, a small one, as early in 1995, when the magical year of 1994 ended, a short hockey season began, causing a three year doubling of the Dow Jones stock market, and basically, the end of my life, via the search for the missing teenager of my past; the most inconceivable nightmare to ever rear its ugly head in all of recorded history. Now this had to get out of the way in order to lay a foundation about the true major significance and surreal importance, of this wild trilogy and parallel event nightmare in my life that yes, all started when the rest of the hell started, on 15 August, 1986. There just is no getting around the fact that something more powerful and strange than all of the combined so-called UFO-abductions all put together, happened to one person at one exact point in history, ME, and on this date. Everything, whether or not a bigger REALITY-3 is behind it or not; seems to revolve around an 'inescapable' reality, 'PARALLEL EVENT', without any 1983 or 1997 tunes, from any members of this great and awesome Carpenter family of 3000 years+. Now, some few real follower geniuses know why certain unnamed people told me to “PUT THAT ON TOP”, Commander Pablo, so check that off, KIRKWHALES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whenever I have a major extra normal vivid dreaming experience, the next day is always MAJOR MESSED UP, going all the way back even to the year of miracles for me, the great 1994, and the interaction with the SUNRAM DISTANCE ELIMINATION CHAMBER MACHINE, that autumn, and then on the way to Haddonwood later in the day, despite major overcast skies, being pulverized and pummeled by MY WOMO MILITUFORCE ENEMIES. I am not going to lie and tell you that again today, was not about the song, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, as it was. 'THEY' just won't let me put any money together so that I can go over to the Avalon Studio, and pick up my CD, and post the song onto my YOUTUBE CHANNEL. I never ever EVER NEVER saw the FORCES this strong against something in my entire @$^&^$%E#@!@%$!!@%!*)&_$*^$* LIFE!!!!!!!!!!! This is why, I will now post up the lyrics to the song; and it is copyrighted, because the blog is copyrighted, and I fully legally intend to make it official someday with a check to the Library of Congress, just not today, because THEY won't allow me to get a penny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM BEING TOTALLY OBSTRUCTED AND PREVENTED AND STOPPED FROM DOING THIS, AND I KNOW IT, AND FEEL IT LIKE I WOULD FEEL THE FORCE OF A SKYSCRAPER FALLING DOWN ON ME, SHOULD THAT BE THE CASE. This may be an inescapable force all right, but the forces against me will not escape this blog going up onto the internet on an early Thursday morning, that will at least contain the words to this tune, that so much energy and power is being expended from somewhere, to obstruct and halt. All the Doctors, Lab Technicians, sore throats, and swollen lymph glands on the planet, are not going to stop me from posting these lyrics, ON THIS BLOG, TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before we do the posting of the lyrics of the song written by me in 1983 and redone with these words in 2012, that is now called, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, let me tell my 'BLOGAUD' that I of course, asked the great cosmic meow king kitty cat, WHY THIS DAY WAS SO HORRIBLE, and worse than 99.99% of my days over the past 25-30 years, and GAWKY GAUKAUK answered me with the PCN-312. Let me tell you the match-list that I have in my GAWNUM BOOK for PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER (PCN) 312. These are:

PAUL PEDERSEN----CRY----TAP----KRASSLEVILLE----MASS MURDERER----MAN----TAG----RPL----TAPE RECORDER----ATLANTIC CITY MUNICIPAL UTILITIES AUTHORITY----

A god dam retard can read into these cosmic clues, despite my not yet telling any of you the details of my monster ass day. So let me do that, and then after that; let us see if the world is still spinning around by this time tomorrow, after I print these words, that somebody is fighting against with strength and power that defies and eludes my frail tiny imagination, maxed out times a vigintillion power exponents of a googalplex. Before I do anything, I must remind my newer readers, how to work a GAWNUM. You can most likely GOOGLE it up, but for the lazier folks who refuse to do it, because I am just not that important, then I will tell them just a little bit of it quickly. All letters have an order in the alphabet. A is 1. B is 2. C is 3. D is 4. This goes all the way to Z is 26. There are 81 GAWNUM ROOT NUMBERS. To find them, you need two things. First, how many letters are there in the item, and second, what is the total amount of letter value? Let us use the three combined words for example, of the song that seemingly started all of this nightmare for me, back in August of 1986, “REAL GOOD GIRL”. There are a total of 12 letters in this title. If you add up the value of all of these twelve letters, 18-5-1-12-7-15-15-4-7-9-18-12, we get the number 123. Don't die on me yet, my wonderful fence beckoning strobe-light. Now as with all of numerological truth, any number that has more than one digit, is added up until it only has one digit, and there are only nine, and no zero will exist if you perform this task. So the first number of a GAWNUM ROOT is your amount of letters, so with the song “REAL GOOD GIRL”, we have a 12. The second number of a GAWNUM ROOT is your total letter value, so with the song “REAL GOOD GIRL”, we have a 123. So the first number is a 12, and the second number is a 123. Adding these up until it is only one digit, this becomes a 3 and a 6. So the GAWNUM ROOT of the three words, 'REAL GOOD GIRL' is 36. Now the third digit in a PCN is always the difference between the larger and the smaller numbers in the Gawnum Root Number, so 6-3=3. So the GAWNUM ROOT '36' is equal to PCN-363. You always use the alphabet of the country that you were legally born in, don't start trouble Mister Trump. Now with our names, it is always the first name and the last name, no initials or other in-between names, always merely the Christian name and the Sir name, nothing else. Now to see if any two things have Gawnum Compatibility or (GC), you add the two PCN's up, and get a PCNT, the 'T' is TOTAL. If at least one digit exists in the PCNT, that is in both of the numbers above it making up that sum total, then the two items are GC, and if not, then they are not GC. This does not reflect a positive or a negative reality, but merely that a potential cosmic compatibility exists, or does not exist, for all of the many virtually countless realities; that fit into 81 root number systems from 11-99 with no zeros. The only zeros that exist in the GAWNUM, are in the third digit when both of the GAWNUM ROOT DIGITS are the same, hence GR-44, becomes PCN-440, and GR-77, becomes PCN-770, and so forth. Only nine out of the eighty-one roots produce a zero. When you wish to ask a question, you can think silently about your question, while doing any of several things with playing cards or dice or even large colored blocks. Keeping it simple for now, take an ordinary deck of playing cards and remove all cards except for ace through nine of the four suits. You will be left with a total of 36 cards. Shuffle well. As you begin to randomly just pick a card out, think of just your question and do not let any other thoughts creep into your mind. Write down the first GAWNUM ROOT DIGIT after your first pick, reinsert the card, repeat the shuffle, rethink the question, and begin to select another card at total random. Then write that down. As with me tonight, I asked why my horrible day happened today, and my first pick was a 3, and my second pick was an ace or 1. The ROOT was 31, so the PCN was 312. You can take a million things that have meaning and significance to you in your own personal life and create your own match list book on all 81 of the roots, or all 81 Private Cosmicoded Numbers, (PCN's). There are other things to learn such as branchcodes, and more; but this will suffice for now, as an updated reexplained 'HOW TO' for operating the GAWNUM in you personal lives. Don't blame me if you die of shock, as you develop skill in working this. You can eventually potentially reach omniscience. But it is a skill, working the GAWNUM, and will not be perfected overnight, not even by an Einstein. Even the great master, Beethoven; practiced a lot, as did all great musical masters, and music professionals know these truths. As I speak, and it has been going on for some time, my ass wipe nabes are in and out a lot with hall talking and doors, and it is close to one in the morning. Living poor is fun, is it not my 99ers? I wouldn't care, if it were not for the fact that I have been robbed over and over, especially of much of my intellectual property over the past 35 years or more. People really are, just as Lex Loo Thor said, on the great original Superman movie; “NO DAM GOOD”. There are always those treasured few, praise the Goddess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah world, when I see a man deliver his baby, I'll believe the creator force is male in gender, and not until; there is no logic to that nonsense. FEMALES are the CREATORS, it is a biological self evident truth, and outright fact. Speaking of this truth folks, there are complex truths about the multiverse or hyperspace. The scientific community has a billion theories, and they have never experimented with any of it in the real world, in the ways that I have; yet they remain the great EXPERTS, and I am the forever unknown ass hole who doesn't have a clue what he is talking about. Fine. Cool. 'Whatever', old pal, Bob Andrews, back in 1975. If we WHATEVER advance time up to 1983, some one or some thing, Captain Shatner Priceline, was driving me beyond insane, and only the mighty AT&T Corporation knows these truths, and the CIA and NSA, I would suspect as well. Not even corporate giants can keep secrets as big as goddess's numerous secret incarnations, from these federal giants, that basically are sort of one and the same thing with the fortune-whatever it really is, and for short, I simply call this, the WOMO. It is why all of this happened. No one else ever used that machine built by the IMM. It never caught on, yet I used it, and it changed my entire life forever. It is why my mother and I had many health related issues of paranormal and very strange onslaughts of medical symptoms not recognizable to the accepted time and its medical community, and on I could go for a week with this topic. If I told the story in the way that Terry from Egg Harbor would like it told, I would probably be in a building that would be burned to the ground before the dawn comes later on. Stranger things have happened, of course, as I do not seem to be able to be effected by what mortals call DEATH. I seem to keep waking up from what I thought was the end, only to find out it was a dream. This has happened way too many times for me not to know that this is being done by way of a future technology called, LTDDT, Laser Trace Distance Delay Technology. In any event, Doctor Carey; I hope you will not hate me too much for printing the words that I do honestly believe, you are consciously, or maybe unconsciously, preventing me from being able to display the entire song in a public arena. There is no way around explaining that machine, or those endlessly recurring 'dreams' of me and Egg Harbor City, all throughout my life from the days I worked at the RPL Studio, until a few years before I met the great TAWF, or 'THAT FAMILY', as I used to call them even back as far as the great seventy year itself, from Ventnor, New Jersey, USAESMWG. Well we could type on forever and not tell the story as it can never all be properly told. But those in the know will read the song lyrics, and they will know what they need to know. I had no way of engineering all of this. Only the All Mighty Sarah-Stacey Krassle Herself, could have done all of this. I know that she was here on Tennessee Avenue as SARAH for about 15 years. Then she popped out of existence, just as mysteriously as she popped into it. Now, the rest of all of Morianity, is the attempt by me, Mountainpen, to connect the greatest and most incredible dots in all of human history, so may the heavens pity me if I am wrong?

COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983 ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF

“YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”

VERSE ONE

I'm so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new

Let me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few

Oh my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew

We're down and out, and we will even go to work for you

You seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two

I am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue

While we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe

Oh please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you

We'll help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew

But greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say

I've been working hard out in the sun all day

And I'm not giving any freaking fish away

VERSE TWO

So when you add your salty tears directly in the sea

And when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me

Just take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty

And right into the undertow, and stop annoying me

And talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish

You loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch

I have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled

So either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed

Guys like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled

People say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day

But I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay

So I'm not giving any of my fish away

VERSE THREE

They say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand

And mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand

Storms blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died

The sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried

And on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned

Ignoring waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound

Just another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill

A lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill

The king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again

Yet locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben

I've been working hard out in the sun all day

So yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay

And I'm not giving any of my fish away

VERSE FOUR

You'll be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer

You'll be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer

You'll be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking

You'll be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking

You'll be crossing over, watching all the others eating

Feasts with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating

Forever seeing many fish, but never on your plate

You had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate

You'll be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover

Forever doomed to hear the words you always used to say

That you've been working hard out in the sun all day

Oh yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay

So you're not giving any of your fish away

END OF SONG.

Yes people, this will be a very interesting next few days. Of course this is merely print, and we are not so blessed with Doctor Carey and her heavenly voice, to do the song here on this blog. But then, that seems to be what things have been about now for a while, maybe for nearly thirty years. Where are you when I need you STEVE HAWKING and DOCTOR CARL SAGAN????????????????????

ENDING OF BWOG, WHAAAAAAABBIT.