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.
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KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2013
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I
A
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O
V
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H
A
P
P
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4
U
F
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R
M
A
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*****KEYBOARDS
FROM PETAHELL-1980 (R)*****
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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.
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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.
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555555555555555555555555555
THIS
IS MORIANITY,
PART FIVE,
AND PLEASE BELIEVERS
AND L-4 FOLKS,
TRY AND
HAVE YOURSELVES
A VERY
VERY NICE DAY.
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
W----O----W
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 2779
My blogs
About me
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Occupation
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Location
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Hammonton,
New Jersey, United States
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Introduction
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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.
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Interests
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Favorite
Movies
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Favorite
Music
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Favorite
Books
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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)
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:
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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**W-Map,
courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South
Florida TV.**
Note: The
image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county
due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and
the map processing.
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Advisory
Colors Key
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Winter
Storm Watch
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Flood
Warning
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Non-Precipitation
Advisory
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Flood
Statement
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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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