MORIANITY
PART 5, CHAPTER 00196
2:57
POST MERIDIAN DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME,
ON
9 SEPTEMBER, 2013, MONDAY AFTERNOON:
Another
super fucking botbar day of this wild
new AUGUST 2013 ATTACK. Speaking of attacks that begin one day
out of the mother fucking ass blue and then just keep right going for
years as with 1986; I fucked up a few blogs back, and I said 1989,
when referring to 1986. Sorry, typo, mind hack; Congressman Whatever
Bob, from Pileggi's band practice basement, back in 1975. It is 88
and humid, feeling mid ninetyish here in fort Pierce. I have no air
conditioning at all, and spoke to the resident manager, Debbie
Moratto, and someone will be up here to repair it. I just need to
hang on and hold tight, right lovely Queen Elizabeth.
A
trick to keep you cool when in a hot position, is to take an
undershirt, while wearing shorts only, no pajamas, and keep washing
it with cold water, and a bit of soap to keep things from going Stink
City of course; and then blow two large box fans on you from two
opposing directions. Water plus moving air, keeps you almost cold, up
to 90 degrees, and comfortable up to 100, reasonably. Since I have a
fucking lovely northern exposure, I only see the sun at the very near
time of sunset, after it is low enough in the sky not to pose
anywhere as much solar radiation (heat) energy directly seeping into
my apartment. Actually, it is four degrees cooler in here, and the
humidity only factors in a fraction inside, of how it does outside as
far as a heat-index that results from heat plus humidity.
Being
a little bit of a thinking person, out of pure necessity, does indeed
tend to come in fucking handy, when dealing with this, as I have
called it for years now, despite some members in my clan calling it
the MASON CURSE, the HUNTINGTON CURSE. It was not the Mason's that
caused all of this, and most definitely goes back into the
Huntington's. One day in February of 1949 if my memory is properly
holding, as I am doing a 'Carey-Stair-Chase-Memory-Block', with this
horrific deed; but I think I have correctly remembered this nightmare
event, yes it was on that lovely snowy day when the son of Herbert
Huntington, my great uncle once removed if I am at all correct,
Mister Arthur Huntington, from the lovely Suburban section of Boston,
Massachusetts, while shoveling a recent snowfall off of his property
and area around his home and while whistling a catchy tune, to hear
the neighbors tell the story of which I of course am delivering to
you second hand hearsay, judge's Brown and Judy, and Jack McCoy, and
all others; but he seemed to be as happy as a lark at a Disney Resort
Holiday Vacation, without a care in the fucking ass world. But don't
judge books by their cover, YO peeps, no way Josie Girl, no
way!!!!!!!!!! All along, he was planning the murder of his wife and
his mother in law as they lay asleep in this large home in Braintree,
Massachusetts. Around midnight or thereabout, he took an ax to his
wife beside him, asleep and resting so peacefully and now resting a
bit longer in peaceful bliss, and then he went into the room down the
fucking hallway and entered Alice Huntington's mother, or his in law
mom, and whacked her good, as Duncan McLeod might put it, on the 1406
Cinnaminson 1984-1985 Highland Avenue Highlander show. Then he
immediately proceeded down into the basement of this large home,
rigged a fucking nice big noose, and he hung himself Squire Trilane
Trek, until he was Mushroom dead-dead-dead, Alan, Mark, and Dick
Wolf, along with all their pals of the tomorrow people!!!!!!!!!!
I
awoke hot as hell without any cold air of course, this is not
Hammonton, New Jersey, but hot ass fort Pierce, Florida, old friends
Deezy and dizzy and Mc and Russ Thaxton, and the gods only know who
else, Mushroom Patton Trilane Trek. My
BOTBAR DAY is not just the air conditioning system
that has been bad for a year with an intermittent MILITUFORCE
''HIT'', making the repair of it about as difficult as fucking a
frigid woman who had her sexual organs all removed, but is the NABES
that went on a real slamming roll right after I awoke hot and
bothered already, slam slam bang bing boom bong, and try escaping
that nightmare, Scylla, oh lovely great GODDESS of the Astral Plane
and its beyond glorious capitol city, known as the CITY
OF THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE, and in Phase-2-Reality or
the 'spirit world', this is the same as speaking in English waking
world language, the words of, SAHASRA DAL KNAWAL. Then as if the
broken hot air crap ain't fucking cunt enough, my upstairs nabe was
doing whatever she does from time to time that is as fucking annoying
as drinking piss, hurling it out, and re-drinking it again. I do not
if she is washing her windows, as you cannot see what it is from my
unit no matter how hard you try, but it resembles a sound of water
striking glass. How this dam ass bitch gets her windows out, or gets
a hose into an apartment, now that to me is way more intricate than
Paulstein and his mass times the speed of light is energy, formula.
But that is not all. For a while, right shy of the attack that
fucking began ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN IN ANOTHER FUCKINNG ASS AUGUST,
this time and counting them as I do and never plan to fucking stop,
YO, makes 27 years, 1986-2013. Go ahead, get out a little Walmart ass
calculator and subtract, you can do that much work, huh folks? Then
you'll 'suddenly see' that indeed, it was 27 years ago, so why not
this August being another fucking monster ass attack, after-all, 27
is no ordinary Highland Avenue/Highlander number, in or fucking out
of Cinnaminson, New Jersey. ''That's my number, little boy'', the
great LIGHTNING told me, in what you all may think of as a powerful
whacky wild and incredible dream. Fine, believe all that. It's
bullshit times ten to the fifteenth, but thatsawn-U,
folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
still is not the entire Mexican pizza, folks, and old pal, Louis
Laines, (CHICKY), hay MC; some peeps like nick-names. Sorry if the
one I gave to you, is not to your liking, and yes; I know you have a
very beautiful name Gee, ever wonder why? You know it is wild about
that day in the early autumn back in twenty-ten, when Boo called me
from County Jail on Rock Road. It all has to do with a few things,
David Roth, Warren, Skinny-Mike, myself, and some not too pleasant
folks in the HH game, no that does not stand for Hile the evil Man,
Herbert Huntington, or even the mighty FBI dude, Sir Herbert hoover.
If no one guessed the musical form known as HH. Or HIP-HOP, shame on
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am sure my daughter will cut you off of her
fan list as she did Dawn King. No that was not for anything you may
have guessed, it is merely crossed off when Dawn-Marie back on New
Years day in twenty-eleven, left this old world of tears and crap
behind, or ''CROSSED OVER'' as others may call it,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But
am I finished with WHAT'S WRONG, United States Copyright Office? Not
by a super-ultra fucking long shot folks. My blogs had returned for a
short while, back to being hit about 130 times daily. It had dropped
off for about two months earlier in this year, all the way down to an
averaged 20% of this. Said more powerfully, four fifths of my
audience seemed to be gone, poof, vanished into the realm of
unexplained magical horse-shit of the group we may call; the Merlin
Harry Potter, Copperfield, Blaine Club, of the etcetera, etcetera.
Then things resumed for a while, maybe for an entire month, if I am
at all accurate. Then beginning around the time that this new AUGUST
SIEGE of bad rotten piss poor magnetics struck me, POW, for the past
three days, my viewing count has fallen totally off. I do this for
all of you 75% of the time. So if you are planning to all go away and
leave me, fine, I will just close up shop, and find other interests;
blogging only when I have a major revenge to carry out, or to tell
real super fucking necessary stuff, FOR THE RECORD, and even do the
occasional DYING DECLARATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes,
at first, this weekend, I was wondering if the counter had frozen on
my Dashboard Blogger Page. I tell you all these extremely powerful
things, and you lose interest. What, you want photos, I'll give you
photos, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeit, does da widdle boy need anudder
wollweepop, Paula Patton, you vision of quintessential
loveliness????????????????????????????????????????
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So
whay-da choo choo twain, Whaaaaaaaa?
WOOKATA
COVERED WAGON EVWEEBWUDDY, AHA AHA AHA.
WHERE
ARE YOU MIKE MC NULTY, 42 YEARS LATER, YO?
Now
this would be the way that parts of Astral Plane city of Potterkovich
looks, as best as can be reproduced by me, on this mortal world right
now, on this machine!!!
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The south & only
jetty at LaPush, notice logs piled up from winter storms
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One of the smaller
breakwater jetties at Westport taken from the observation tower,
with the Coast Guard practicing in the distance
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It is a good idea to
fish here with a partner
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Black Sea Bass, a common
specie of the "Rockfish Family"
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Starry Flounder
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Now
is everyone a little happier, do I have to cut and paste the entire
solar system out beyond this galaxy, as I did once in a distant
hyperspace location????????????
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