MORIANITY
PART 6,
CHAPTER 12
10:22
ANTE' MERIDIAN, 1 OCTOBER, 2013, TUESDAY MORNING
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Folks,
let me tell you what is Derrijo Exxon HA—penning, in or not in
1983!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW,
RHM!
Hyperspace
is a truly unknown element, as of this second quarter of the year of
2013. Yet, as a few folks on this lovely planet well know after
ingesting the Blogs of Mountainpen and Morianity, same diff actually;
that indeed, this tremendously under rated unknown thing all around
us, is why all that is, IS, Dawn-Marie King, and lovely family, and
everybody else!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TO
KEEP SHIT SUPER ASS SIMPLE GOOD PEOPLE OF CYBER-VILLAGE, YO, let me
due a super compressed nut-shelling deal here, and I've learned
things are better received this way than having me rant on with tens
of thousands of words that blow everybody away, along with Russell
and the Count, back in 1969!!
Take
a look at the shit that fucked up on the previously posted blog,
Chapter #11. Let me begin with that, and before I do, should this
happen again with any part of any blog, simply highlight over it and
it will be perfectly visible. That was not me being either cute ass,
or just stupid. It never did that before, and I was most certainly
not trying to play James Bond or had any private little sicko motive
behind the occurrence. Shit happens, just as that other great
philosopher said to me so dam often, Dawnie, Mister Paul Evans the
great Pedersen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
this is not 1997, and there are no two young fellows around me in
here that are Greek in origin, and sons of parking lot and restaurant
owners, in Atlantic City, New Jersey; no mailmen are involved, no
mail counts or other strange wild unexplained without ESS stuff
either, including Schiff Central Pier, or repeating-loop-tapes
saying, ''Hurry Hurry Hurry'', over and over all summer time long
blaring down onto Tennessee Avenue, Robert Asshole McGuire. But years
later, I did come to understand SOME of the wild reasons for why my
dad got off that fucking jitney bus while my mother and I were
staying at the Bruce Manor Motel on Richmond Avenue, in South
Atlantic City; just a few blocks to the north of the home of the
mighty and beyond mysterious, Estelle Andersen Bassler at 30 South
Plaza Place. All along, my father was in with these incredible wicked
people, indirectly through his friends, such as Kip Wagner, William
Kirtland, and Melvin fisher, and others, but that would take about a
hundred years to tell a smattering about and I promised a super ass
compressed story for the blog today. I intend to be as good as my dam
word, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chester Perkowski was an
adopted son of Mrs. Bassler the great, who sold her hotel to the
mighty Sarah Krassle in her then human form, holding onto her
Piccadilly Hotel, and letting her buy her other property on the other
side of the street, called, the Bolivar Hotel. Right next to this
place was the, and still is the, Pittsburgh Hotel, owned by Robert
McGuire. SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM, it started right around the time I
began this blog, world, imagine that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gee
wiz. Hyperspace is so much more than any syfy writer of these present
times can start to fathom. If they knew what I do in totality about
it all, they would literally over the next 10 years, make trillions
of dollars on super totally new type of movies, just as all the
fucking shit that I told over a Radio Shack Archer Telephone
Recording system that proved an FBI Power-drain-tap; to be placed on
my line in the eighties, as if I needed this to tell me, still it was
'confirmation', Mark Bruner Huntington Axknife!!!!!!!!! If I were to
make a short list, going into the smallest detail, of each thing;
such as my early eighties song lyrics, that I was influenced through
nothing more than STM and its effects on me as it effects all of us
and I ,am no different, all the character in Atlantic city, all the
characters in THAT-FAMILY in outer areas surrounding Atlantic City in
virtually unlimited mileage and direction, all of what happened with
Lenny McKinnon, all that happened with the WOMO-MILITUFORCE since
1986, all the great movies, television shows, and musical
productions; and about ten times this many things on a very ugly
laundry list, we would be weeks writing this, again, this is not my
intention to be real loud and motor-mouthy today on this blog,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
we will start off with what I feel compelled to say today by first
copy-pasting the part on the last blog that came out all James Bond
encoded and not easily decipherable, other than for very computer
literate folks who know to simply highlight those otherwise areas
that showed up as empty blog-parts, in order to read them. If it
happens again, JUST HIGHLIGHT, YOU KNOW, TAKE THE MOUSE AND CLICK AND
GO OVER THE STUFF AND IT WILL SUDDENLY BECOME BRIGHT AND VISIBLE,
RIGHT OUT OF JAMES JESSICA BOND LEPRECHAUN ORANGE JUICE FOOTBALL
GRANT!!!!!!!! Here we go!
PASTE-IN
FROM PRIOR BLOG THAT CAME OUT CODED:
Then
Hurricane Sandy struck,
and for the first time ever, crissake squared, this incredible storm
tore right into the magic area of my HELL, up north, and did a
historic amount of damage, causing havoc and grief beyond measure. If
anyone out here thinks that I derived the smallest bit of pleasure
out of that, you have totally misjudged me. I knew as soon as I saw
this list for named storms, months earlier than the actual season
began, posted on The Weather Channel, one of my favorite channels on
television; that Sandy would not be a Jane doe storm, but one to
remember for a long freaking time to come.
Just
as dark matter and dark energy are still far from understood, and all
because they exist as part of a transdimensional lawtronic
circulatory system, that is way too complex, for me to even think of
getting into now. No calculation is ever going to unify or tell one
solid truth that reveals a perfect picture, unless all of the
parallel realities in total hyperspace, are all merged into the mix.
Mind is also totally misunderstood. Dozens of things are, but they
are supposed to be, until about another nine decades passes by, and
them WOW; are things going to change fast around this little old
world of ours. Telling people that parallel universes, sentient
electrons, dreams, hyperspace, and gravitation forces, all mix
together in a wild powerful and awesome way, along with what up until
about the turn of the next century, will be called, ''dreams'', and
then this word will be drastically and dramatically refitted into the
new sociological enlightenment of the educated majority. But let us
quickly before rapping this shit all up, GET ONTO this very topic,
the education process, the educators, and traveler-educators, why
they have this book-code thing in libraries and with other things
that we need not even think to touch on for right now; and so on and
on. In 1983, the ESS wanted to make one person on this EARTH, totally
come to realize that indeed, electrons are transdimensional traveling
pieces or better said, PROBES, of the ALMIGHTY ENERGY that we call
GOD and other names; and that this entity, eventually, attempts to
communicate with the entire cosmos, using one intermediary.
In
making CONTACT, fully and totally, all throughout history; a priest,
or a chief, or a shaman, or whatever; is the one who is the
intermediate channel between the cosmos power itself, and the rest of
the tribes of people on the planet, no matter what order or type of
civilization we're talking about, all throughout the recorded history
of time. Now, I need to tell you a story about a realtor friend or
ex-friend of mine from 1996-2006, Mrs. Karen Simons, of Grassi
Realty, in Somerdale, New Jersey, just a few blocks west of the house
I had purchased from her office in the end of August in 1996, leaving
the Williamstown magic 'Flint-Fields' for the third and last time,
and screwing me up beyond repair, most likely. She is the one who
went and saw that great movie in those days, ''Conspiracy Theory'',
with Patrick Stuart, Mel Gibson, and Julia Gorgeous Roberts. She
could not wait to call me when she and hubby got home, and she said
in a voice as if she'd just finished running and winning, the Boston
Marathon Race, in safer and lovelier days of old; ''MARK, you're the
freaking taxi driver, you gotta see this movie''. YEAH, I AM THE TAXI
DRIVER ALL RIGHT, plus a whole bunch of other things as well, mister
Tony Bonjovi Haddonwood Zenun!!!!!!!! A Macy-WOW, if I may be
permitted here, Uncle Gozzwald Heinz Yachtsman, YO YO YO YO, and
summer breezes to all of you too, Frankie eyes of non Blue Skies, and
all other coded poems, or other lying eyes, rhymes, or such EW
wonderful utter nonsense!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In
making CONTACT, fully and totally, all throughout history; a priest
or a chief or a shaman or whatever, is the one who is the
intermediate channel between the cosmos power itself, and the rest of
the tribes of people on the planet, no matter what order or type of
civilization we're talking about, all throughout the recorded history
of time. Now, I need to tell you a story about a realtor friend or
ex-friend of mine from 1996-2006, Mrs. Karen Simons, of Grassi
Realty, in Somerdale, New Jersey, just a few blocks west of the house
I had purchased from her office in the end of August in 1996, leaving
the Williamstown magic flint-fields for the third and last time, and
screwing me up beyond repair, most likely. She is the one who went
and saw that great movie in those days, ''Conspiracy Theory'', with
Patrick Stuart, Mel Gibson, and Julia Gorgeous Roberts. She could not
wait to call me when she and hubby got home, and she said in a voice
as if she'd just finished running and winning, the Boston Marathon
Race, in safer and lovelier days of old; ''MARK, you're the freaking
taxi driver, you gotta see this movie''. And yes, it is not mother
fucking 2:01, it is 3:01 AM, on this 29 SEPTEMBER OF 2013, and please
don't awaken poor fucked up me for about another 45 hours, as the
song says, glarry ass eyed drivers of all untarouges, and Spell
fucking checker is totally worthless, so I know the name for hot shot
celebrity drivers is misspelled, and I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO HEAR IT,
not from any clueless American new kids, or old kids, in this town,
or any town, Mizz Kimmy
Wild!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU.
This actual blog needs to be said, and it all fits together in ways that most or maybe none of you, can really know and relate to at all; but all that is important right now, is that I KNOW why I am doing this, and please just read along. Try hard to absorb this, and simply be my wet sponge for right now; with some tiny bit of an open mind. Thank you.
Harry
Houdini has a lot more in common, with Herbert Huntington, my distant
cuzz; than he ever may have realized, but that, as Donna Gaines might
have put it, when alive; is neither ''hair nor there''! His son
Arthur married a lovely girl of the most beautiful land on the
planet, living in Chicago, but whose roots were from Ireland, Mizz
Alice Gallagher; the one who ended up murdered, at the hands of a
suddenly berserk, and totally insane, triple murder suicide
perpetrator. Oh well; the plus out of that horrendous day in February
of 1948, was that he did not go Bjork as well. Him and the entire
family all had enough problems back then, in New York; and as a
result; left the nest of a lot of peeps in the Huntington family; and
purchased a place in the Boston, Massachusetts suburbs, known as
Braintree; and at least until all hell broke loose, that powerful
outlandish day; had a pretty nice wonderful life, huh Jimmy
Hyperspace Stuart? Now this was not spoken back in middle late August
by me. This is me now in late September, Rod and Maggie-May; adding
this all into the mix, up here in the fucking ass
''future''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY.
I
knew you weren't going to send me a WOW-CARD, RHM!!!!!
I
am not going to ask anyone to take time out of their busy
schedules to archive any of my old blogs from early October of
2008, while I was helplessly kidnapped under Stockholm Syndrome,
at 65 Middle Road, in Hammonton, New Jersey, USA-ES-MWG, at that
nightmare time of my fucked up pathetic ass life, but I sure wish
you had done that tiny little other thing that I asked of my loyal
Morians. Oh well, I probably don't have any. Basically my viewers
enjoy a good laugh, and other than that, screw Morianity, I know
that now after this past month of hell, BUT DON'T EVER SAY THAT I
DID NOT RUN THIS WHITTLE TIME EXPERIMENT on my viewing audience,
Mister Elmer Fwudd Waaaaaaaabit!!!!!!!!!!
END
OF PASTE-IN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YO YO YO:
Now
I will tell one quick thing, and as with any things in Morianity, it
is merely a door opener into a new hallway and wing in a cosmic
mansion, and the exploration will be done in many future blogs to
come, down the halls, into the rooms, into the secret closets, hell,
you'll all think you've given a guided tour through Ricktown Manor by
the time that this fucking dogshit is all over, lovely Nora from late
1984 at Macintosh, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
I tie the shit all together and open up the little shit for today
good folks and any loyal Morianity/BOM followers; allow me please,
Uncle Permit-me Snooties, sir; to paste-in a few standard master
sheet masters, skip over it if you like, it is there for any
potential new viewers that may just happen to see it there for the
first time and wish to see my ugly puss and read my ultra compressed
bio, and see a few other pix and small things pertaining in one way
or another to the Morianity
Project in general small ways,
and then again, or maybe not.
Morianity
part 5, chapter 00092
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OK
Lads, Lassies, Labbers, and Lab Dogs AKA (L-4), and as my
introduction on an old drum music track from the eighties and
copyrighted by me also long back, says in my own voice, before the
first drum sounds, “HERE WE GO”.
Doors,
doors, doors, doors, Public Housing Authority, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!! I am getting a shit attack!!!!!!!
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JANE
WHOREWEEDS JUST NAILED ME ON PAGE EL OF EL!!!
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT
THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:
Only
the opening title words are real.
}{----------------------}{---------------------------}{------------
///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
KEYBOARDS
FROM
PETA-HELL
®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2013
Like
DUH, and color me
anything from
'MINE', to 'IMPRESSED'; Lenny Briscoe! Still, sir; this is not
starting out as a good day by any stretch of the fucking ass mind.
THAT,
SIR ROCKDROID; is the simple honest
truth!
“LOVE
IS FOR CARPENTERS” and
me,
F----O----R----E----V----E----R,
equals
KING
NEBNOOSHOO, at C-SQUARED.
Folks,
is a freaking ***W---O---W***
appropriate here?
Well,
SLAM SLAM BOOM BOOM BANG sure is, Public fucking Housing Authority,
and I am getting very fucking sick and dam ass tired of these low
life roach rats, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
great SARAH
KRASSLE, you know that
I AM THAT-BOY;
and you must know, that doing all of this to me, is not right; OH
GREAT JUDGE OF THE EARTH, AND ALL POWERFUL AWSOME LOVELY ONE, YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
just exactly why was it OKAY-2-CHOKE-ME on the fourth day in June of
1983, great awesome all powerful and all wise, SSJKK, AKA, my
wonderful Almighty
ISISCYLLA, shortened many times to just ISIS or SCYLLA, on human
waking world planes of existence!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The
Hollywood actor known once as Michael Landon, AKA Ugie Googie
Horowitz, went to the high school there on West Collings Avenue,
before he played 'Little Joe' on 'Bonanza', and went on from there,
to star in many television roles. Aniwho, we need not get off into a
dozen stupid ass tangents for now, believers. This is what got me
onto SOCIAL SECURITY DISABILITY
the very first time that I applied, when I told them the true story
about World Labs up in the future, and how I had retraced 600 people
from this time period, up there. Anyone that thinks that I cannot tie
in a hundred things that prove he was one of the connections in the
entire Morianity story, is really going under budget on
underestimating Mark Wayne Fucking Mohr, I promise you all that one.
But
folks, there are a billion-trillion other subtle things, that are all
WHY this
stuff is happening exactly as it is, to me, and around
me; and remains a total never ending constant for me and against me;
not for a year, not for 5 years, not 10, not 20; but since the
fucking cunt lapping day my mom dropped me on my rotten worthless
head, while we lived at her mom's home, in West Philly, when I was
one or two, and she was carrying me across 50th Street, to
a doctor appointment, from the house at 440 South 50th
Street; and no sooner were out the dam door, when she tripped on
something, and fell on the street; and I fell down hard, and remember
it horrifically to this very mother fucking second. Real funny, MC,
real funny! Speaking of lovely persons, Happy BD, Sharon, and I doubt
you are related to my kid's friend, although, they all got away with
my situation because no one would ever suspect, huh Paul Pedersen,
old buddy? I'll bet I am the whitest looking nigger you ever saw in
your life, huh dog? Well, even I am not aloud to ride up into the
hood and sing along to many of BOO and his pal's lyrics, if I wish to
remain healthy up there late at night. Still, why did he not call my
daughter when he was up at County Jail in early autumn in twenty-ten?
Why call me? Jimmy, I still have the same question for you in late
May of 2013 that I had back in late 1984, bub, YYYYYYYYY, why Jimmy
Y, Y did you tell me these things; and also, JUST HOW DID YOU
POSSIBLY FUCKING KNOW THAT THIS WAS ALL ABOUT MY FAMILY, WAY BACK IN
1974; and did you work on Project
Jeanie-Dreams with my dad, at Majestic TS Level, in Fort
Meade, or Fort MDE,
'mother-daughter-electron', and yes, then there is the H-2 stuff I
learned the other night, about the cult that started in when else,
but you all got it right 1984?
This
has to have a freaking W-O-W!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!
W-------O-------W!
I
regret that smashed Mountain Dew bottle, in August of 1986, with all
my heart and soul; and am so fucking like dead meat,
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YO! Yes, I was trying to watch my
show tonight, and BAM, the machine burned up like a fucking bolt of
fucking ass lightning had struck it!!!!!!!!
The
dirt bag nabes have been in SLAM MODE ever since before this MAY
14 DEATH SIEGE began and struck me out of nowhere, just as
in the middle of AUGUST IN 1986. This really is just a SOSO-WEIN
shituation. The DOW JONES SHOT WAY UP, not as bad as I thought, but
it was done on my back as always, with this major PROPERTY DAMAGE
ATTACK, as the machine was giving me some trouble recently, and now I
know that it was mother fucking RASPBERRY
CARNIVAL HIT, BY THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE!!!
Between
the fucking cunt BACK STAB, THE
NOISY NABES, THE FLYING
FUCKING DOW JONES STOCK MARKET,
AND THE DAMAGED PROPERTY, ON OR
OFF OF ANY EGYPTIAN BABYLONIAN TERRITORY; THIS
DAY WAS OFF THE SCALE FUCKING SUPER FUCKING COCK SUCKING ASS
BOTBAR!!!
I
AM GOING TO BE MOTHER FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MURDERED, MIZZ PAM BONDI,
LOVELY FLORIDA ATTORNEY GERNERAL NON BREAKDOWN, AND I JUST WANT YOU
TO KNOW SO THAT AFTER I AM FOUND DEAD IN THIS APARTMENT, THINGS WILL
JUST MAYBE GET LOOKED FUCKING INTO, I DOUBT IT, 99.9999%, BUT THERE
AIN'T NO FUCKING LAW AGAINST ME HOPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
need to stop typing for 4 minutes or so, it is nine past eleven, and
I will not get struck by whore JANE for all the fucking dam ass love
in the cat house cubed, YO YO YO!!!!!
OK,
I am back, and am in regular time, Judge Copyrights, and let us all
get a big ass laugh on the fucking pathetic Mountainpen!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! It is now 11X2, as some of us LABBER'S
from 2294 would jokingly say, upon occasion, oh lovely Asian Girl,
Sir Detective Brog. You do not need to know it all, L-4, and as of
this current moment, whatever you all think you know about me and my
situation and especially with TAWF and WOMO, let me say, that that
suffices for the present moment, DOGS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where's
Matches McGuire when you need him, Randy
Vans??????????????????????????????? W-O-W!!!!!!!!!!
Doobey-doobey-doo,
and Nothing-Prophets, from the great illustrious
AT&T, who could go to bat for me, but won't, as they
know what side their bread is buttered on, WO, BH!!!!!!! Yeah bud,
you and PP said it all back in mother fucking ass time! Still I owe
all of you an apology. I know what is really going on, and you are
all just riding along and caught in the fucking currents and
undertows of this GREAT DREAM!!!!!!!!
Oh well, let us move this along, wonderful freaking peeps, YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO! What are the odds that Mikey called me with a very
logical explanation, while I was still outside yesterday, and all of
the stuff that went down all around these incidents, without
factoring in intentional fucking with the non-high-schools, oh
wonderful © Office? Boy oh boy, does Mountainpen have a mother
fucking wild ass vivid imagination, yeah shore; tell me another one,
on or off the beach, and for the hell of it, GOV! Thanks for ripping
me off in 2010, by not giving me my state income tax refund because
I left New Jersey. Like I wanted to leave big guy, SHEEEEEEEEIT. If
Ida stayed in that fucking house at 831 13th Street, I
would not be here right now, dude! Even the nice girl from the Saint
Lucie County Safe Space, told me I got out just in time
with my life, GOV. Sorry if that pisses all of fucking New Jersey
off, WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! Spin those crooked wheels of justice up
there, in or out of the lovely ass casinos, oh no, they do not cheat,
anymore than 'God' lies. But there are hidden ways of cheating and
deceiving, and when someone gets onto this secret fucking shit, they
basically are DEAD FUCKING MEAT, WORLD!!!!!!!!!
David
Charles Roth would understand this 100% if he was not a victim of
this horrendous fucking horse shit himself already, and dead. I TOLD
YOU, AND 'AT&T' HAS A RECORD OF IT, 1000 TIMES OVER; THAT WE WERE
DEAD FUCKING PEOPLE, AND WE ARE. I AM
DEATH, YOU MERELY PERCEIVE A DAM ILLUSION, OLD BUDDY.
This is why DEEDEE sits on my air conditioner outside, and follows me
all over. She knows that I AM DEATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My
death is way smaller than my HELL,
so which of these two fucking entities do you kind folks out here
think is going to become the dominating factor,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA????????
I
will look down and see green and you will look up and see brown, but
up and down, and green and brown; is all the same truth at zero
dimension; and you know that old buddy, as I taught you this; and you
echoed it right back to me that day in 1991, on Route 295. I remember
it all like it was happening yesterday. “Because of Z-D-T”, you
shouted at me at 100+DB, Uncle
Dave!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Move over, all dam
light-switches from 1983, WEEEEEEEEEEEE! W—O—W!
KEEP
RIGHT ON GOING, FOLKS'|
|READ
ON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN|
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HOLY
TOLEDO, DADDY SECRETS, Where is Aunt Jeanie, and does she want to jam
along with me and my great kid? This
is so cool;
you'll be crossing over, dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee, oh no; I'll be
crossing
over Academy
Road
after I get off of 95, and then I need to get over to Grant,
G-R-A-N-T, or need I sing this another time; or just freaking
DEAL WITH THIS ANOTHER TIME, LIKE SUPER FREAKING
W—O—W??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PLEASE
CONTINUE TO READ:
MORIANITY
PART SIX, CHAPTER 00012. TANKS
FOLKS.
Jupiter,
Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
W—O—W
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- http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
- Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
-
BEAUTIFUL
LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW
PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.
MY
BABY-BLOND, DIANA ZUDLECRONESSIA ARTEEMIS.
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“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.
You
said it all in late 1971, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!
Sharkey
says, HEY GIRL, Leticia Tilley. Oh and also,
tell
me if Marcus Muldanato, is still
your bitch???
Now
the greatest fish in the whole dam bay, wants to share a little more
information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
PHOTO
IS COURTESY OF THE NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC.
AUUCH,
HEINZ GOTTWALD, say what Aunt Ruth?
Oh
yes people, as good old Jason
Forrest Summer,
SAYS IT ON HIS WFMU
RADIO
WEB-SITE SO WELL, AND I WILL QUOTE HIM HERE EXACTLY, YO, “FUCK
YOU”.
HE
SAID THIS FOLKS, NOT ME, AHA!!!
THIS
PHOTO IS COURTESY OF THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC
Oh
James T. Burr of the PCI Computer Institute back in the summer of
1973, may I say Shidaleedee, EW? Aniwho, YO; my father never pillow
talked about Callio or McGuire, but he mentioned a name that both of
these pricks did know, and I came to learn all of this years later,
simply by doing my Ron Wirtz ADA legwork, as instructed.
How
my mom told me so often when discussing my missing father throughout
my adolescent freaking years, he would wake up screaming like a
madman out of monstrous horrific nightmares, she did not know, but
some Morians understand why. He was a crewman and a Naval Officer,
aboard the Battleship Eldridge, docked at the Philadelphia Naval
Shipyard, during world War Two and when my mother was employed by the
Lavino Shipping company up at Eighteenth and Market Streets at the
corporate offices, working as what once was known as a secretary, a
sort of phased out and almost now insulting title, as they all are
some type of Administrative Assistants or similar sounding titles,
just as garbage collectors are Sanitation engineers, and so forth. I
do not need to really open up a can of worms right now, but this is
all classified under the very highest possible top-secret rating. He
was loyal and told me while awake that he could not tell me certain
things, it was illegal for him to do so, but when he slept, I used my
John Zane powers of sleep-persuasion, getting him dual stated and
relaxed and under my hypnotic control to some degree, and he would
then go on to sing like a lovely chirping tweeting bird in Central
Park, New York. Technically, I guess I'm admitting to breaking the
law, but let's cut out all the fucking television and entertainment
media hype bull shit for a dam ass minute here good peeps, YO. I was
just 19 years old and going on 8, maturity wise. What I did was like
a game to me, and good luck trying to prosecute me, FEDS, for this.
SHEEEEEEEEEEIT. Still, I think somehow they know that all of this
happened and were eavesdropping in on us; and knew they would have a
difficult time taking an innocent special education adolescent, and
placing him on some kind of an espionage trial. After-all, I am not
Eddie Snowden, I never worked for them, and I had no contract to shut
up or else, I was just playing the role of hypnotist, and making a
game out of it, but BOY DID I COME TO LEARN SOME SWUPER FUCKING WILD
SHIT, like the entire future Star Trek movies, and so much more, and
this is all accessible for archiving on many old blogs when Morianity
was newer. No one blog tells it all, and no one blog never will, and
for one good dam ass reason, L-4. No one blog ever could. You could
get a fleet of large pigs airborne, before you could ever
successfully pull that off, I assure you, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Folks,
I bought myself a microwave oven at the local Walmart yesterday
afternoon. While driving home, a major aerial assault struck me just
a mile or less from the store while heading home. A large white weird
airplane and a large dark weird chopper, in random, just ahead of me
crossing the road I was on back and forth, Okeechobee Boulevard, I
call it in my own slang, ''OKAY-2-CHOKE-ME'', and for very June 4,
1983, obvious ass reasons, YO DOGS!!! This attack struck around
3:30-3:40 in the afternoon, just when the Dow Jones Charts were
showing their normal time to HIT MARK MOHR AGAIN, study it over time,
and then realize that I practically could tell the fucking world hour
by hour, whether to expect a quick spike up or slide down. I am all
connected up in this entire mess and this entire messy world, and for
reasons that I could not in any good conscience even begin to fucking
hazard a tiny little guess, folks!!!!!!!!!!! Let me finish up with
this, Waaaaaaaabit!!!!!!!!
The
great Kennedy Secret, is not this gigantic wild extended secret
family, containing peeps of dozens of wild walks of life, and so much
more it would never be believed let alone even properly comprehended,
but good peeps, listen to me real dam ass carefully here, YO. Way
more than this one huge family secret regarding their high status
cosmically in the Exploratronic Supermind Society (ESS), you for the
most part, especially the young hip hop crown out here and all of the
brothers and many many others, really only care about my interactions
and connections to the greatest pop diva of all time, Mariah Carey.
Well, I am willing to tell you one thing about this today, and we
will leave it at that until I am ready for number two and maybe
number three, this is totally at my freaking discretion. Live with
it, please, I must be careful, just ask my pal, mister Regis. He only
wished the great Paula lots of happiness and good luck, and she
nearly offed him, thinking that he was threatening her, these all are
very weird and scarey people. You don't want to be hooked up in any
way with any of these family members, NOT
ANY OF THEM!
I
will tell you that MC is the most talented and great female artist in
the entire world. In fact if I have to tell you this, you're in need
of a total work up ear examination. Her talents cannot even begin to
be intelligently discussed. She is awesome in all kinds of ways, the
only exclusion in the package, and most women suffer from this, is
the choosing of mates, in my humble opinion, both choices were
disasters, but as long as she is happy at door number 2, then I am
happy for her, as should all of her fans be. She had more than her
share of bullshit in early life, and it is not for me to talk out of
school and tell things that may not be known by anyone, whether I'd
be believed in whole, in part, or not at all, still, I will not say
too much. I most likely have said way too much already, but she is
the one person out of anyone anywhere, who knows, because she is a
very realistic person, one of her attributes that I mostly respect
her for, way more than her talent, success financially, or fame and
recognition in general; but yes; she is the one more than anyone
else, who totally knows much of Morianity is completely true and
honest, and I think she is reading this and I think she knows what
she did when this all got started, and if I am wrong, then I'm wrong.
My point is that I understand fully how this world operates, I am a
realist as well. Online, Morianity as many reading it know, began at
the very opening of the year of 2006, early in the first month,
January. By the end of the first year, it was known already by a lot
more powerful peeps than I would have dared let myself believe at the
time, and by the end of the second year of operations, as 2008 was
aboutr to move into the present times; I fully know that some part of
these words, for reasons only she knows, had a personal effect on
her, and she knew more about morianity at that time, than I knew
about this greatest pop diva of all time. I do not follow
contemporary things, and barely know a name here and there like
Prince or her or Eminem or old artists of my day, a band here, an
individual there, I am not a huge fan of the industry, as it is a
dark drug infested dangerous business. She knows more than well how
her hero stuck a gun into my ribs on a hot July day ikn Philadelphia
when she was barely ten years old, and forced me to drive right
through traffic in a wrong way, and did lots of other horrible
inhuman and totally evil things to me. But all this aside, and all
this said and out in the open with Beaver and his dad and the busted
automobile window back late in the nineteen fifties; my point here is
that we have history, and this is not breaking the surface of that
history. My problem is that there is legitimate history with me and
many powerful and name recognized people, and folks cannot understand
how or why this would all happen to me, and I am not able to answer
them with a great GURU type of magical answer that can satisfy
skeptics and believers alike. With all my writing and all my long
winded blogs, I simply will not lie to you with a bunch of words.
These blogs to the very best of my ability, tell truths, there is no
bullshit about it. Then on top of all this, there is that word that
just cannot seem to be snuffed out with me and my life, HYPERSPACE. I
am aware and living in more than just this one universe, and not only
that, but I have for a very long time, learned how to manipulate the
lives of myself in numerous parallel universes, by causing hyperspace
print through or bleed over, or any name or concept that you might as
a reader, feel at a maximum comfort level, giving to this.
SLAM-SLAM-SLAM,, HOLLER-HOLLER-HOLLER, at a quarter shy of mother
fucking one in the fucking afternoon. Tomorrow, I am speaking to
Resident Manager, Debbie Marotto and letting he know I am pressing
charges with the police if this shit starts up again, as it seemingly
now has for a week or two or so. I AM NOT FUCKING PUTTING UP WITH
THIS PERSECUTION FROM THESE FUCKING EAST COAST DRUG RUNNER ALLEY HIP
HOP THUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't think I don't know
what is going on. For those out here who still believe in leprechauns
and viral videos that happen all by themselves without the media
getting behind them and pushing them; I assume you have heard about
this monster motorbike scum gang in New York City, that beat up that
man in his van that had his little child and his wife along with him,
for doing nothing but to try and get away from these punk trouble
making dirt bag biker trash fucking bullies. Now take shit like this
that YOU DO KNOW IS TRUE, and fold it into MORIANITY and stuff that I
am only able to shout out and claim is happening to me as I have no
court-sufficient proof at this point to do to much to combat my woes
in a legal fashion; but if this can happen to this poor dude in
Manhattan, then why can't Morianity be true and real, and not made
up, or the deluded fantasies of a fruit cake crack pot? Just ponder
on this for a minute or two, somebody out here, YO? Now it is time to
tell you that since these bastard fucking pricks are so annoying
again, and totally fucked up and wrecked my cunt lapping weekend; I
WILL be telling some powerful and quite specific secrets, that may
just be classified to the MAJESTIC absolute top level of the scale,
it goes no fucking higher folks. Purple and 9 Ron, +3, kind sir!!
For
now, I am about to close, but I am going to tell you what my little
time-experiment with my blogging-audience cost me in BOTBARS
and HELL; in the fucking month of
good old SEPTEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As
some of you know, I have a mathematical way of getting a percentage
of my super bad days each month, or 'BOTBARS',
and I want to show you how September fucking fared with the eight
prior months from January through god dam ass August. I could in
three god dam ass words, say everything here, but will do a little
better for you than just, ''NOT
THAT WELL''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
rate monthly botbars as a percentage of the month's total days, 11
months as you well know have either 30 or 31 days, and our second
month has 28 days three out of four times, and 29 days one out of
four times, for LEAP YEAR. Now, my formula is second grade simple
once learned, I take the total amount of the botbar-days, multiply by
100, and then I divide by the total days. Here are the Magnetic
Percentage Botbars for the
first eight months now, then I will give the amount for September,
and you can see by not doing what I asked, not one viewer doing what
I asked, indeed and just as I said would happen, I would fall down
hard and fast, deep into a horrendous abyss.
JANUARY----------MPB---29
FEBRUARY--------MPB---21
MARCH--------------MPB---32
APRIL----------------MPB---20
MAY-------------------MPB---29
JUNE-----------------MPB---33
JULY------------------MPB---23
AUGUST------------MPB---16
SEPTEMBER
MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE
BOTBAR:
57
Folks
this is not a little worse or higher number of botbars, based on the
other preceding months of the year, and in fact, it is not even quite
a bit worse. IT IS MORE THAN DOUBLE AS MANY. If you average these
first eight months out, total divided by the 8, or 203 divided by
eight, and rounded off, the rounded number comes to 25MPB folks. All
the other eight months before September rolled around, in other
fucking words, folks; is that I was averaging one in four days being
super-bad, or as I refer to them, BOTBARS, for Bottom
Of The
Barrel Already
Rated. Speaking of BOTBAR-DAYS, HA
HA HA, you witch bitch Jane, you missed me with your
fucking ass clock attack at one-eleven this afterfuckingnoon, YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is now a quarter past one,
Sleazeweedsdisease. So back to the point folks, all the months before
the month of September rolled around, average me 25% for BOTBAR, then
along comes turd chewing stink face September, and WOW, RHM; I fall
into a hellish nightmare shit bucket of 57%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
50
would be double the 25, this is doubly bad PLUS another 7% more, 25
verses 57. THIS is what happened when I ran that little experiment,
and for the doubters who will always doubt and scoff at me, hay I am
allowed my opinion too. I won't express it, in case women and
children are hanging around, however, I try to be a nice guy, hay,
LFLD, I ain't a perfect freaking angel. Ask Bruce Allan Pennock of 2
Beaver Drive, in Barrington, New Jersey, back in the mother fucking
nineteen seventies, AHA AHA AHA AHA!!!
I
know it is quintessential fucking stupidity to give plans out before
they can be executed, but I just don't mother fucking care any more.
I am too exhausted and totally fucking ass worn out. If shit is meant
to be hell for me until the day I fucking drop dead and turn to shit
and ash, THEN FUCKING FINE, but I will fight to the fullest to the
last drop of my circulating fucking ass blood, good peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mikey has turned into a totally worthless
fucking shithead. I am no longer going to hang with this loser. He
has cost me over a year of totally wasted time; telling me he would
help me do something with some of my ideas; and he is all talk, and
total shit. Guys like him are a dime a dozen; not like ubiquitous Law
and Order basketball players and other lakes, lake-houses, chokers,
and choke holds!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will be going to the IRS
College, and meeting with the professor who I originally had met at
the library. I plan to get the Gawnum onto a software program, and
then create it as an APP, to be sold in APP stores. This is like
nothing else in the world, the world owners know it is my property
and that if they try and steal it ahead of me and use it for making
money themselves, I'll sue big ass time; and they know that it has
uncanny abilities to predict incredible shit, and yet can also just
be played as a fun-game by kids of all ages. You only need a
cellphone in this new age, everything is made to hook up into the
online world where they could download the APP. To think I learned
half of this ''GAWNUM'' crap, over at Carey's house back in 1972; and
then the other half, 8 years later; from a powerful 'DREAM'
as you would all call this experience in 1980; after waking up a few
hours before it was time to leave for my job, over at the RPL Sound
Recording Studio, of Camden, New Jersey. You know, Dick Wolf and his
peeps said it better than I'll ever be able to say it and you all
know it is true, deep down no matter how you may be fighting me and
Morianity, and trying to laugh at all of it, and I will quote what
they said quite a number of times, around a year back, ''You just
can't make stuff like this up''. I think this is wisdom of Plato,
mixed in with Shakespearean Art at its very best epitome, good peeps
out here. This little saying should truly be written as a line
heading or a front lead in some day, if permission could ever be
secured from the Wolf peeps, and I doubt that, since Cuzz don hates
my guts and these dudes are all super ass tight; but really, I can
see this as clearly as a 1000 Johnny Clariton clear Nash Songs and
allergy relief tablets all combined. Right before the great book
called MORIANITY begins, the intro, with his permission would go,
just as they quote it, ''YOU JUST CANNOT
MAKE STUFF LIKE THIS UP''. Hay folks, can you, I know I
fucking can't? I don't see the total collected works of Patterson and
ten others like him, COMING CLOSE TO MORIANITY, and it is no cut on
them, no is it any hip hip hurray for me. My shit is real, their shit
is fiction, and fiction is always less powerful and less strange,
than powerful wild real honest facts, at least regarding some
stories, one such story being gee, DUH, could it just be folks;
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3???
MORIANITY
PART SIX
A
child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube
site, that will remain for now and a little while longer, but not
endlessly. It will all come down when Morianity has completed, and I
alone know that time, as well as all of the other parts of me that
are not me directly. Click below, YO!!
http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/
GONE FOREVER, HA-HA-HA.
THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART SIX:
Add to Your Facebook Timeline
Showcase
your uploads, Stories and other recent activity on your Facebook
Timeline. You're always in control of who sees what - you can turn
it off or remove posts at any time.
THANK
YOU BLOGGER.
Http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
****************On
Blogger since January 2006
**************************Profile
views – 2779
My blogs
About me
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Male
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Industry
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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.
Florida
Attorney
General
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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.
55555555555555555555555
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courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South
Florida TV.**
Note: The
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due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and
the map processing.
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55555555
HELP ME PEE, YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, and now it is OCTOBER 1.
|
If
anyone can find me PEE,
it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!
YOU
NEED TO INVENT THE 74-WP DEVICE, TRY AND REMEMBER.
SOMEONE
WILL NOT GIVE ME A MOMENT'S PEACE, AND WE ALL MOTHER FUCKING KNOW WHO
THIS IS, DON'T WE, CUNT LAPPING AGENTS,
CONDOR AND FALCON, OF
THE 1988 UFO THE COVER UP DOCUMENTARY, ON
NEW YORK, NY, CHANNEL 11 TELEVISION, WPIX?????????
And
I know who they are. They are TYPE
THREE
EXPLORATRONS,
and yes, time travelers is !another way for you to see this truth if
you are not reading on my mother fucking dick chewing ass level yet,
dudes and duddesses, YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh
that
mouth!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
3+4—3x4—7+12—7x12
******
But what is so awesome about the (3) and the (4) to begin with, some
are asking me, WOW, let us go a little into this huge one, believers,
and 'others', without me joining the ranks of one failed
student-teacher from late in 1972, huh Danny Mackey, time MMCN!
If
anyone believed this, the world would be over, as we all know it, by
noon, my time, tomorrow, the friggin fifteenth of friggin May. They
will not, so I will safely tell it, Prosecutor Wirtz Senior; without
slamming an AEB too hard with any keyboards from 1980 parallels that
have beyond cool features, including CSV, equal or better to today's
arranger melody models, and so on, but seeing these in another
universe, and hearing them, does that officially make me the inventor
of them here in this one, on or off of LIEMEOW Road and Happyhealthy
Street intersections of phone taps????
Here
is the story of last week, done a little bit more the way that would
be pleasing to the great Almighty literary giant of Egg Harbor in New
Jersey, Terry; please don't kiss me. Thank you. It was six days ago
on Monday that I drove up to the Harvest. I wanted to tell the
Manager who once was and said I was his pal, only he changed big time
when becoming manager of the place, and this is why I detest power
and capitalism and all of this shit. It turns everybody totally ugly
and forgetful. The main thing that they tend to forget is that they
all will pass the very same people who they were mean to once they
became great hot shots, when it is their time and turn, to slide back
down the ladder rungs of success, back into the great cosmic
equalization. This does not mean I think powerful folks should be
fools and give one thin dime to those begging for money. The
wealthiest person on Earth would go broke in a year, just handing out
fifty measly dollars to every not real well off person; man, woman,
and child; just in the United States alone, and forget the world.
What I do say is there is a horrible change that takes place in
people, normally it is the smaller of the bigger people, such as
JASPER, up there at the shit hole I used to work at through a stipend
program, on E Street, in Washington, DC-13-600; that's actuality
operated out of the Port Saint Lucie, Florida Office, on Route 1.
LSS. But folks, as far as I am concerned up here now on the first day
in mother fucking ass OCTOBER OF 2013, YO; my attitude is fuck all of
them. These assholes around here are all losers and don't have any
desire to really make anything of themselves. All along, I knew that
all these butt wipes were completely worthless, Jasper, Mike
Patterson, just using me, stringing me along, playing with me, what,
they think they're the fucking gods now, I mean after-all, YO, that
is what the gods all do, THEY LOVE TO
ENDLESSLY PLAY GAMES, in order to fucking distract
themselves, from the monstrous hell of no escape from endless eternal
existence, the TRUE-HELL!!!!!!!
I
definitely make the THIRTEENTH ANGRY MAN, right there, Mizz Jane
Dirtweeds Sleazedisease??????????? I also told Jasper I would gladly
pay him cash money, 100 dollars, to help me do a YOUTUBE PAGE. He at
most is making a dozen bucks an hour, 15 total tops, and is not a
rich man, with all his ego and demigod power up there. That is not a
bad deal, and I would have paid him more for a really good one, along
with also my own web page; such as the one that Eddie designed and
posted on the net for me, back in OHM-7 somewhere. But he took my
number and trashed it, as he always used to do when I worked there.
But he did call Mikey and fink on me about what I had been nice
enough to tell him. This only proves one thing, and that is that
revenge or payback is never the correct action to take, especially
when you are down and out all the way, and with no one anywhere in
the mother fucking entire world who gives a shit if you should
fucking live or fucking die, and that is my current situation, down
in this so-called paradise hellhole misery, that lots of northern
peeps, refer to, and call, F---L---O---R---I---D---A!!!!!!
Some demonic supernatural or extraterrestrial event just occurred
while I finished typing in the last sentence. I will not bother
telling about it, as most if none would even believe it, but it
happened on the dot of 5:05 PM, coming out of nowhere, totally
invisible, and was along the lines of what David Roth and myself
witnessed so often in the years between 1986 and 1999 for the most
part, and especially after we made contact directly with both SSJKK,
and then a few years after that, in a frenzy of fear to save our
lives from some invisible assaulting power all around us that just
popped up; the Camden County Prosecutor's Office, in Camden City, New
Jersey, USA-ES-MWG, on 12/05/1989. Hello to you too, School Play
Participation Insistence, (SPPI) almost SIPRI, speaking of 'OHM'-7 a
while back, and 1969 a bit further back, right Mister Ciprionni? If a
'WOW' was ever needed within a grouping
of text words, this would be the quintessential time, laugh if you
wish now, Mike McNulty! It is time, BC, to move this along now, and
go about ten minutes after the moment that I walked out the Harvest
place doors, and headed to the local area grocery store, the Publix;
at the large mini-mall, at Virginia Avenue, and Route number 1. This
is where some WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
power and technology, for reasons beyond my most stretched
imagination; had me suddenly see, no, not a Walmart, that is a few
miles to the west down Virginia which forks as it goes and becomes
OKAY-2-CHOKE-ME Boulevard, becoming one
of the on and off ramps, for the great interstate we all know and
love, Drug Runners Alley and AKA 'I-95'. Walmart is a half mile
before the highway, and is to the east of it. This is however the
mini-mall parking area where I was convinced I had seen Mikey, only
it was a major doppelganger, totally him, only with his hair
different and bright yellow, and dressed like a wealthy man, or as my
great LI Sound Yachtsman late cousin, might put it, “VERY
COMFORTABLE”. LSS folks, it was not him, but right at that very
time that 'some force or power' put this entity right in my direct
path; Mikey was calling me, and leaving me a message on my voicemail
system. He never came out and said it, but I know that Jasper called
him, and told him that I said something not that pleasant to him,
about Mikey; and I did. I had told how he used to accuse Jasper of a
$10,000 theft that took place some time back. But I have come to
learn that this is why I need to always
remain totally fucking out of things, as the only person
that EVER MOTHER FUCKING GETS INTO TROUBLE, as this must be
programmed into the LAWN MOWER MAN MATRIX OF THIS WILD GAME AND
SYSTEM; is the dude I see, when I am shaving in the dam ass morning;
and ONLY THAT POOR FUCKED UP DUDE, no one else. Everyone else is
PROGRAMMED TO DO EVIL AND SKATE ON IT, while I take the force fed
shit, down the throat, EVERY MOTHER FUCKING ROTTEN ASS TIME, YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!! But folks, there are a billion-trillion other subtle
things, that are all WHY
this stuff is happening exactly as it is, to me, and
around me; and remains a total never ending constant for me and
against me; not for a year, not for 5 years, not 10, not 20; but
since the fucking cunt lapping day my mom dropped me on my rotten
worthless head, while we lived at her mom's home, in West Philly,
when I was one or two, and she was carrying me across 50th
Street, to a doctor appointment, from the house at 440 South 50th
Street; and no sooner were out the dam door, when she tripped on
something, and fell on the street; and I fell down hard, and remember
it horrifically to this very mother fucking second. Real funny, MC,
real funny! AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, ARE YOU AND MCNULTY in on this together,
in this or some other 'regional area' of the Hyperspace
EsteLauder-Dale-1985 nightmare of great Florida Cycling Research
Institutes, and other cosmic cycles? Hay, United States Attorney
General, even if Mizz Bondi wants to laugh me off, Dawn King when
fully used up was permitted to die a horrible fucking monster death
that even I who she hated and persecuted and nearly totally
destroyed, would not want that much fucking ass hell wished upon her,
YO YO YO YO!!! Ever since July of 2008,
SOMETHING STUNK WITH THIS ENTIRE TAWF. HOW MANY MAGIC
FUCKING BULLETS WILL KILL INNOCENT TARGETS, BEFORE SOMEBODY TAKES
FUCKING MORIANTIY, AND OTHER SIMILAR THINGS LIKE IT; ONE TINY BIT
FUCKING ASS SERIOUSLY, YO PEEPS???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now,
I am not going to touch a million potential subjects on this blog,
and basically, the second one hundred chapters, have all been
reserved in a sort of semi-ordered structure by me, for really
getting way more specific, about what the first 100 chapters in this
M-5, just starts to get into; so be prepared to move forward with me,
or else, hit that NEXT-BLOG
BUTTON very soon, as unless you want to get real down
and dirty filthy, into the trenches of warfare, and true horror; that
poor old Walter could not handle, and so he booked out and off of the
battlefield, and later made it up to the world, by becoming the
greatest pleasure provider, to kids and all kids at heart of any age;
but let me just say, that when this mud is all completely and totally
explored; we will all get dirtied up, and I may be sued or killed,
but hey; I can take the fucking heat, L-4 and BELIEVERS; can U?
HAY
TOM REALE, LIKE DUDUDUDUDUDUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDUH!!!!!!!!
IN
CASE YOU WANT TO JACK OFF LOOKING AT ME TOMMY BOY,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555***888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888******
As
for me Tom, I would much rather have my lovely Attorney General. Hay
I agree with you, Mister President, speaking of great politicians,
let's not annihilate the whole thing, YO. Why not get rid of rotten
evil pricks and keep what is half decent, like what my forefathers
worked so hard to build for all of us,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
THIS
IS MORIANITY PART SIX, GOOD KIND FOLKS!!!
I
HOPE YOU
ENJOYED READING THIS
CHAPTER
NUMBER
12. WOW,
IT IS DOUBTFUL
THAT YOU DID, WITH ALL OF MY DAM ROTTEN
PROFANITY.
SO SORRY.
OH WELL, MAYBE
TOMORROW
WILL
BE BETTER,
GARY-7 AND OTHERS. THEN
AGAIN,
MAYBE YOU WON'T STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TAKEN ME TO
THE WEEDS! IN FACT,
I THINK I WOULD PLACE BOOK
AND BETS ON
THIS ONE, CUZZ!!!!!
Hay
folks, here is hoping for a better month than 09/13.
**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**
LIGHTNING
LOCATION: YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU DIANA
ARTEEMIS, MY BABY-BLOND TEEN!!!!!!!!!!!
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
THE
500 POUND BLOGGER, WELCOMES YOU ALL TO B.O.M.
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MIKE MCNULTY, FROM 1971.
YES,
THE BOM, THE BLOGS OF MORIANITY, DON'T DIE ON ME, TOM RIDGE, OLD
PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well
folks, here
we are in late September. How I long for
the days of yesterday, my old Beatles
pals!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Watch your throat, Richard
VonMarcucci. Oh well, Russ, if you're out there in Cyber-Village, old
friend, you told me to 'try and hack a job' at the Terminal Vending
company, and now, I am just hacked; and the company went the way of
glittering lights, and powerful awesome roof pushing lightning
goddess daughter incarnators, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Well
gash darn gee-men Gollleeey Sergeant Carter sir, of the United States
Marine Corps. Shazaallm!
If
I had the mother fucking stones, to say one one hundredth, of the
shit I really want to open up on here folks; you would all be nuts as
all shit by twelve noon today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MO would
say it perfectly, so I'll copy her, ''I'll promise you that''.
My
ability to click into the BLOGGER BOX was hacked a few days ago when
you saw all those short-blogs to be read hopefully by the fibbies,
while they laugh at me and my no-funny McNulty jokes from 1971-2013,
and play some real good football simultaneously; and so now, I have
to paste it in without hitting Control 'V'. Instead of hitting those
two keys, I have to right click the mouse and keep dicking with shit
until it lets me click at the paste in area, not easy when the mouse
is all hacked out. The illegal pop up ad on both my blogs, did
another thing to me the last time I tried to post. It made the mouse
jump in and out of view and nearly impossible to use for clicking in
labels or doing anything, as it became invisible. THESE CIVIL RIGHTS
VIOLATIONS go forever unanswered, and this country mother fucking is
worthless and it fucking sucks, and is filled with liars, and mother
fucking hypocrites; who let my civil rights be endlessly, and
viciously, and vitriolically, and relentlessly, and ferociously, be
stomped on, and trampled to mother fucking dick chewing asshole
death; at C-SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555***88888888888888888888888888888****
THE
STORY OF OLD PAL JOHN CROWLEY FROM 1979, SHEEEEIT.
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THESE
MOTHER FUCKING PRICKS HAVE MANAGED TO GET INTO MY DOCUMENTS AND
REMOVE THE FILES AND PHOTOS OF MY OLDER ENEMIES FROM THE DISCO
FUCKING YEARS, SUCH AS THE GREAT AND ELUSIVE BUTTERFLY MAN HIMSELF,
J.J. CROWLEY, OF VOORHEES, FUCKING NEW
JERSEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
if someone thinks this is all funny, and publishes no-no phone
numbers from my document files, Abby Carmichael, I'll be skating on
boiling ice, huh girl! I retrieved the photos back onto my records,
oh well, if they hack shit, what can I do, even Mizz Benitar knows
about the fire and ice dilemma, or so it seems, huh Abbey? Don't
blame me Jason Forrest for the restaurant theft either, old boy,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JEWELLY
WHITE, OH MIGHTY LOVELY VIQUEEN:
HOW
DID THE MAYAN'S KNOW ABOUT MORIANITY, AND ITS FINAL DAY, SO LONG AGO?
This will be explored later on.
CHEMTRAIL
ATTACK has been very bad for a while now, causing lots of
illness for me. They can hurt me anytime they want, this evil empire
or WOMO-MILITUFORCE, and they know that they will get scott free away
with it.
It
is back on a roll again. I do not know when a lot of things really
all started, as much of it became all intertwined with itself over a
25-45 year long period. 1983 was when they tried to off me with the
mysterious glandular condition that I'll suffer with for the rest of
my life, and I know well, that I'm not the only one in America, who
is suffering with undiagnosed and totally unknown mysterious
illnesses, sometimes referred to by the medical professionals, as
idiopathic conditions. But if the chemtrails and the illnesses that
result was all that was so totally outlandish and mysterious and
unexplainable; that would in and of itself, be quite bad enough, but
wait folks, oh no, there's a whole lot more stuff that is every bit
as horrible and totally unknown, with no explanation even being close
to the horizon of our collective understanding. Let's talk about it.
The WOMO-MILITUFORCE went to painstaking and agonizing trouble for
8-10 months give or take, to do everything that it took; in order to
prevent me from being able to post up the old song, that was remade
from 1983; with the new 2012 song lyrics, onto the Youtube, called;
“You'll Be Crossing Over”,
onto my paulaking2011 channel. I tried for nearly a year, and it was
not seemingly a possible feat for me to accomplish, something ten to
twelve year old's think of as no more difficult a thing to do than
getting on or off of their dam school buses each day, right Sat Sam
Trinidad Wide-turn. The video-link even though nobody cares about
ever going and hearing the song is as follows:
So
let us get into the topic of second mystery, and there are dozens,
just pertaining to this one lousy rotten little techno-pop redone
song from nearly 30 years ago now. Before I do get into this a little
bit, all day chemtrails were there this week and weekend for the most
part, stuffing up my fucking nose, causing throat irritation and
inability to clear the throat completely, and general overall
wheeziness and weakness.
My
engineer, Ryan, will have this stuff down and off of the public arena
forever by middle January when he gets his new movie project
completed, so if you don't ever want to see how I took an old
telephone conversation, and made a beautiful musical harmony track
from it, electronically, then be that way, don't click and don't
listen, go on missing things that are so wild and unexplainable, that
it makes any ideas about ET, or ghosts popping into houses, and
haunting them; pale in comparison, just as would a candle flame, five
inches off of the surface of the sun. Still, the point of major
mystery is as follows: If this evil force, the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE all
ready knew that I would be wasting my time since they can use so many
numerous methods of stifling me and my ability to get any viewers
whatsoever onto any of my Youtube postings, then why give me all that
hassle that was preventing me from posting the stuff up there, in the
first place? This is more of a paradox and irony than the famous
'time traveler shooting his own grandfather back in time' paradox,
and you all know I speak the truth, whether you wish to deny it or
not. That remains of course, always, your right to do, absurd as it
may be. It is like denying that your four children are all dead from
a horrible automobile accident. Hay it happened, get over it, YO,
life goes on, Jack and Diane.
Here
are some other mind twisting absurdities that seem to make up the
forces that I deal with my entire life, built into them,
intrinsically perhaps, I doubt it is any type of learned behavior, or
even cult-programmed. Before getting specific, such as with this one
example I've just listed, and the most recent struggle I've had, with
the evil WOMO or (WORLD
OWNERS-MILITARY-UFO-FORCE-ORGANIZED TRASH AGAINST MARK MOHR),
AS THE 'M' STANDS FOR THE 'MILITUFORCE', AND THE 'O' STANDS FOR
OTAMM; this is a continuous pattern, of their very bizarre behavior
with me, over nearly 30 years of my dealings with this group of pure
unholy twisted diseased combination of any and all possible waste
products, imaginable. They act like they must stop me, yet all the
while, they all ready know that if I do somehow do what I am trying
to do; it won't matter anyway. Real Star Trek fans know what I mean,
when I now compare this with the episode of
the Crystalline Entity from the original show done after
the movie, that went onto lead to the pilot series episode, changing
its name from the original movie title, “THE CAGE”, to “THE
MANAGERIE, PART ONE AND PART TWO”, with Captain Christopher Pike,
the real captain before James T. Kirk. The team member who beamed
down with the landing party to investigate, along with Captain Kirk
and others, froze for a couple of seconds before firing a weapon at
this entity, and later, it was absolutely determined that whether he
had frozen or not, it would have made no difference at all to the
resulting outcome, because this entity was able to dual exist 4th
dimensionally, making it impervious to their fazer weaponry attack.
In other words folks, it would never have mattered that I could not
have posted this song, as 'THEY' just
now use their other tools of MIND CONTROL
AND THE ETTOS, or their (Electromagnetic Thought
Transmission and Omission System). This is fully discussed in
my 1994 book, written and copyrighted by me, in that year,
called, “THE PERMISSION BARRIER”. Yes, this WOMO is indeed all
powerful. They can stop me one way, or if I seemingly beat them at
some little turn here or there, they merely pop up ahead of me on the
new road, and they have that new road, and any other branches of it;
already blocked off, with two trillion new cosmic sheriffs. Hell,
even fucking Mizz Boniva Sally Fields and her fiery smokey bandit,
wouldn't have a chance; so how am I ever supposed to? Tell me, go
ahead. Yes they are cute and love their endless games of distraction,
as just now while talking about crossroads of a sort, out of the
blue, and for no discernable reason; the youtube
video-link to the crossing-over song, popped right into
the middle of that sentence. Oh W-----O-----W
does this all
impress me like a ton and a half of loose goose gross.
The
Crime Stoppers people
need to be informed, that James son, is illegally back here again. He
came in this morning, hollering outside in the hallway, between their
apartment and mine, like a dam ass maniac; and then he slammed out
around 5:30 this morning. He is barred from coming here, and they
all will be jailed
when I sneak a surveillance bug someplace, snap a photo; and send it
to the Crime Stoppers.
No,
just because all of Morianity is over, MAYANS, my recording my life
as a LIVE JOURNAL, WILL ONLY TERMINATE, WHEN ARNIE COMES BAHCK AND
HAS THE BALLS TO TCOB. Until then, I will go on telling everything
that is going on, it is only 'SAFE JOURNAL' that is now over; and
all of this is a safe journal, hopefully anyway. Remember peeps, two
words that should dispel any doubt whatsoever, you may have, that
you truly have an ounce of real freedom in this new weird odor G-20
system of theirs; and those two words are, and always will be;
Eminent Domain. Translation, we own it all, and you, you just rent
and hope we continue extending our great high benevolence upon you,
as if we should ever choose to stop; we will make it illegal for you
to take another breath, and then you're totally screwed.
There
are some really cool things I have heard lately on television. One is
the newly made aired on the HISTORY TWO CHANNEL (H-2), with the
so-called MAYAN-GEORGIA connection, and this supposedly goes down
further south into Florida around the Okeechobee Lake where to this
day, a large Spanish settlement is the dominant group of residents
surrounding this lake area which is very large. I have a new
respect for these MAYANS, as
they seemed to know
about me and MORIANITY,
and they very accurately predicted
stuff about ME, not
the rest of the world; when it comes to ENDINGS.
It was not the WORLD that ended
back on JWSC-DAY-0, or 12-21-12, right? But
it was MORIANITY that
ENDED
on that exact date, and believe what you want good and bad folks out
here, I in no way planned any of this, and none of my blogs, and my
life; is a plan or long type of a calculated advance series of moves
master chess game, upped one level to REAL LIFE; which still is only
a game of the gods, but who seems to care about any ODF
the really powerful teachings of the Mountainpen, aniwho? HACKER
CRACKER SCUM, I SAID OF, NOT ODF,
DIRT BALLS, and wow
your Mons were great in bed last night, yummy and so tight, a
MILFER'S DREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
folks, whoever you are, and I no longer care; if you all ready knew
that you were planning to beat me up outside school, and we were all
ten years old again, why would you then send another group of bullies
under your control and command, to try and stop me from getting to
school? This can only prove that real motive does not exist at all,
as far as what these enemies seemingly want or do not want for me in
this life, but that only the thrill of the continuous wicked game
that they force me to play with them, 24-7-365.2422, is the issue
here, and nothing else whatsoever, and never was or will be. That is
a powerful rap. Learning this as not head, but real true honest HEART
knowledge, just today after waking up this afternoon from a quiet
dreamless sleep; makes me really rethink a whole lot of stuff, and
this one thing has come out of this afternoon of heavy meditation on
all of this, so here it goes. Don't be standing, please, sit, and now
read this. I don't need you to tell me you fell down from shock, and
got a concussion, poor Hillary was enough, and I hope you are feeling
better. You know now what it feels like to have your motives
challenged when you know in your heart that you are a good and pure
kind person, it really stinks, doesn't it, Misses Clinton. But moving
on here, let me just get straight to it, without my building or
laying any foundations, and wasting anyone's precious, and
non-previous time; since altering the 'C' and the 'V' here, is just
more of a waste, as we normal entities and non TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS,
have little to no control over previous time as do the T-3-E's. So
without putting letters back where they do not belong, in 2012 or
1983, Dick Wolf, Donald Trump, and all you other nice lovelies of the
EW (Entertainment World) AKA waking world or hyperspace equivalent,
or doppelgangers of the ASTRAL-PLANE
LAMBRIGGER CULT OF THE TECK BAY OF PROVINCE OLYMPIA,
the
point simply is that you would not, and nor would any normal gang of
scum bag bullies anywhere. They would not make a plan to not let you
get to school and bury you half naked in the ditch over on Shitcunt
Street half way to school, and then simultaneously be waiting for you
with another group of nasty ass toughs, at the school. Now some may
argue that it is very strategic, you know, if plan A does not
succeed, then this is merely a plan-B that is ready and waiting to
kick in, which in the case of this example here, would be trying to
stop the kid from ever getting to school, only he manages to
overcome all obstacles, and get there; only to find that before he
is half way through the school yard, more toughs are then set upon
him to bust his nose and rearrange other feature facials, in a
quicker, and not so painless way, as your plastic surgeon might do;
and might need to do, after this day has all played out. This would
equalize in my story with 2012 and my attempt at getting that stupid
'YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER'
song posted up to the internet. You know ladies and gentlemen, this
is not to show you that I am a good engineer, all though I have great
ideas and used to have so many terrific inventions, only now the
tables turned, the dice flipped over, lady luck that shined on my
ability to do technological things in the eighties, is now resting in
peace, next to the copyrighted Queen Of Blue, somewhere in the Madam
Mary Richard Karpf Cemetery, of magical NSA-AT&T switchboard
operators. No wonder I am crossing over, only I think it was my kid
giving me instructions to get someplace a long time ago, still, I got
there, my memories are fully erased about all of it, and on top of
that and speaking of cemeteries, even the mighty humanitarian and
philanthropist, James Earl Carter, was forced to agree with me a few
years later from when this tune was first written, that indeed, I AM
DEAD, Doctor Dyer, and none of your great stuff, or yours either,
wonderful Misses Dolores Cannon, will matter in the tiniest little
bit, not now, and not ever, not for me; as I am all ready dead and
gone, and living in eternal hell; and unlike a lot of you, I at least
am totally aware of my surroundings. I do in fact know exactly where
I am. Can you make that claim with power and authority, and would
you; either under court oath, or if your life, and the lives of your
loved ones, ever totally depended on it? You see, I would, because I
can, because, I DO KNOW! Hay I am for all of you, and I don't wish
any bad on a soul. If everyone was satisfied and happy, I would only
be too dam happy for you all. If you are happier, then you are less
likely to want to take me down or hurt me or mess with me in any one
of a thousand ways, each and every day, along life's many
multiplexed roads, and not just I-95, Grant Avenue, Academy Road,
or the Hyperspace Ambulance Washington Highway. Now there was real
power in that one, right Mister Krassle? Well, I do need to move to
the next level, and stop talking to myself, as after-all; it could
lead to doing it in elevators, and then, it is a small walk from
there, to the sike ward, and Deezy Slim, and breakdowns with other
great musicians. Wow what a powwow jam that was.
“Y
SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”
(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.
Long story short, the mail was always delivered here at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.
Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Callas, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! www.blogger.com/http/drunkenhive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?
GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.
E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.
Comments
Comment on "Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?"
This
is YYYYYYYYYYYYY this poor dog should not live in this eternal
doghouse, it is quite simple really. Let me explain things to you
ladies and gentlemen.
BECAUSE
IT IS UNFAIR
BECAUSE
I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE IT
BECAUSE
I AM INNOCENT
BECAUSE
I AM IN AGONY AND TIRED OF BEING ENDLESSLY PERSECUTED BY ALL MIGHTY
SCYLLA GODDESS.
BECAUSE
I AM DAMMED IF I DO AND DAMMED IF I DON'T.
GET
IT YET, GOOD FOLKS???????
first day of 2008 summer, like wow, yo
The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version
Saturday, June 21, 2008----THIS IS A TOTAL MUST READ!!!
MAJOR COMPUTER HACKING FROM MY QUEEN
HUGE
COMPUTER HACK 8 at night, first day of SCUMMER 21 June, oh-8,
Saturday Elton John night But not Donna devil all right. THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION, AND THE MILLIONTH
COUNCIL AND ME———BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I NEVER WENT 2 BED TODAY AFTER COMING BACK FROM WORK, NEVER. I am shouting out to the FBI and the NJ STATE POLICE 4 HELP!!!!!!!!! I have no memory of shutting down the TV set or removing eyeglasses or falling into my bed, only that suddenly the TV was off, my glasses were on my face, I was or had been dead asleep, and all devices were indeed turned off. I bolted upright and saw that my fan had gotten knocked over along with a karaoke machine and they both were laying flat on the floor next 2 where I had fallen also without memory of ever getting 2 sleep. First, work was OK, but no panacea. I had a small bowel attack, lots of jerk offs everywhere; but out of nowhere at just past 3 in the morning, a noisy loud alarm went off. No matter how hard I tried 2 find the source, I could not. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, that I guarded back in my middle thirties for the famous Wells Fargo Company, the original American Security outfit 4 all those Western-shows watchers. Just 2 and a half hours after the crazy MC-ALARM attack, a crash level plane flew over my vehicle in total violation of my CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, WORLD TRIBUNAL COURTS AT THE HAGUE. I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and turn on the TV. The next thing I know it is hours later, I am laying stretched out, eyeglasses on my face still, and stuff knocked over on the floor. When I got up to piss and straighten up the place, so that the fan is blowing air onto me again, and I can resume sleeping a while longer; I instantly knew that I was right back in this building, a medical place with 6-9 rooms that went more into each other and did not contain a lot of hallways. Mariah Carey was there, and her driver, a man about medium build and bright glaring type of eyes, just over perhaps the six foot mark in stature, dressed nicely but not overkill, and the same with Mariah. A lady who is heavy set, is sort of in charge at this place, neck line hair length, strawberry type of color, and she kept telling me 2 stop closing doors, and I kept telling her I am not closing them, the wind was blowing quite strong outside and was blowing right through all of the open windows in these rooms, and forcing doors to swing shut, but she continued 2 insist that I was doing it. Mariah started talking 2 me about how much she enjoyed being a super star and yet there were problems that she said she wanted 2 tell me about, but could not at the moment; as 'he' would hear, and I kept asking who ‘he’ was. She half smiled and pointed at a young male about 22 give or take, about five feet five in stature, brown short hair, not totally short like a crew cut, dressed in an old pair of pants with oil stains on them, and a green jersey with strange looking logos on it everywhere, many bright white circles with black lines running through them, 3 of them, like a triple X. She told me that she is here on this same day each week for some medical reason, and I think she told me but I cannot pull that part of the interaction up now, back in waking life. The buildings of the city were visible from windows, yet the area was in a country setting, whether it was part of the 5 boroughs of New York City or not, also I am not privy to this. She said that she wanted me 2 know she is mad that I do not fully trust her and her plans, and I kept insisting that I trust her implicitly but know quite well, that what she thinks of as PLANS, IC as GAMES, and reminded her of the 65-70 years when she was here B4 playing her games with me from a city just 100 or so miles away down the coast. She smiled at me and said, “U mean the chain I removed from your Oaklyn, New Jersey Apartment?” I said, “4 starters, yes”. She went on to tell me that until the shellfish as she called him while looking his way, is out of my way, I can tell U no more about it. She said that he was a lifelong resident of Atco, New Jersey, and knew both U and your neighbors, the Durham’s, when U lived there back in ‘83. He is not who he appears, and all her peeps and bodyguards have tried to beat him up, and keep him away; but he just seems impervious, and will not stop creeping around. He is Y the Feds started messing with me, she went onto say, and they R not on my side, they must do what they R told by higher councilmen, and she was talking Millionth. I reminded her that she is all mighty and can do anything, Y not just zap him into oblivion? She smiled again and said that there is still so much yet 4 her 2 teach me about all of this and all the Earthly people making my life so horrible every minute of every day and night. She said that when I disobeyed and told her she could kill me, the other day on my blog, for the entire world 2 publicly C and share, she was extremely angry. I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 9 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff. I asked her Y she used the sending of 2 blank letters rather than just come 2 me as she is doing right now and talk to me straight up? She laughed softly and squeezed my hand a little, watching me wince from the sudden small bit of pain that her more powerful grip than B4 was causing, and after a 5 or so second pause, simply said, “I am the Millionth Council, and what I say, goes. The part of them that calls themselves the Lambriggers is still totally under my complete control”. She told me 2 listen again 2 her CD and study it even more carefully. The answers to much of my concerns, is all contained in the lyrical content, and what she says, MC-SAYS; just as the CD says that it does. Never doubt me or try 2 run away from what I am planning 4U, she went on also 2 tell me. I said 2 her, “would U please give me a real waking world sign so that I can know and tell that this is not a silly dream”. She responded with the yellow and chocolate cakes that I purchased at the Incollingo’s grocery store, along with the receipt, and the van that stalked me just after last Christmas, and went on to tell me she is angry that I have unsealed some of the concepts regarding laser trace, and reminded me that the rules cannot B broken. It is part of a plan, and that if it was not so, there R those close 2 me, in this incarnation; that I would retrace, as I miss them. She then told me she would give me 2 huge and totally unmistakable signs to appease my non-belief. One sign is that just because the English alphabet pronunciations of the sounds 'BLU' and 'CRAN' R totally the same on astral worlds, they R not the same in English speaking waking mortal worlds. I told her I knew this. She went on 2 say that my punishment for doubting and disobeying my mighty Queen Mariah, is that she has now placed me into a world where I have blogged the facts in reverse, as Hammonton is the world U now live in. It is not Chatsworth, New Jersey. I have reversed the realities while U were here with me in this interaction, and now your town is Hammonton and this is the Blueberry capitol of the world. She went on to say that I was not supposed to tell about the tap boxes of blue-yellow, nor the saleslady Sherry-Lee Pote and cousin Petee Pote. I must obey my queen or ELSE. She said my second sign will B when I try to do my next blog. I will wake up in the MW and not B able 2 work the computer. I asked her if she will always love me as her ‘89 song promises, as deep within her, she knew even then, that she was my Sarah-Stacey. With that I walked over to the strange dude with the weird sort of peace sign logos all over his bright green jersey, and told him to leave her alone, or I would tear his lungs out, and squeeze them like rung out wash cloths; and he instantly burst out laughing, and the next thing I knew, it was July 4th of 1970, and I was in the same exact dream all along with TAWF, “THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY”, that was what was all in the dream. It was the same dream, and like a wormhole in consciousness; one end was in 2008 physically, while the other end was in early July of ‘70. He yelled at me, 'look who’s talkin’ about bloody washcloth lungs all oozing bright red, it is U, booby, not me, ha, ha'. I knew that if I could just wake up now, it would B July of 1970 again, and it really would have. I did. I jumped off of Tom Reale’s large bed at the Cornwall Avenue home and yelled, it is 1970 over and over. I went out and ran down towards the ocean, and when I got there; the entire sky and sea was not as I had remembered it at all. It had become the backdrop on the homepage of the Morianity Foundation, go to http://www.morianity-foundation.com. The giant 6 foot 7 inch Sarah-Stacey came right out of the sea, she is the sea aniwho, and grabbed me and kissed me, and the next thing I know, I am awake laying here in my trailer residence, and it is after 4 in the afternoon. Sure enough I went 2 use the computer, and nothing, it would not move, nothing would work, not a bloody dripping washcloth thing. I called the Easy Staples Store where I purchased it, and told them that it would not go off, just showing a blank monitor TV screen saying, “EXT 3, S-VIDEO”. The computer department guy told me to shut the battery-backup box off and wait 20 seconds. Then he said turn it on, and so I did. After 2 reboots, it works again, but the HP adviser still is not properly loading up. I can not shout out 2 the FBI 4 help; no one can fight the great Mariah; and she most definitely RULES and RULES, 4-EVER AND 4 EVER. UR my mighty queen, and I am only your endless humble servant, my giant beautiful love. Please forgive me, oh mighty QUEEN MC.
I NEVER WENT 2 BED TODAY AFTER COMING BACK FROM WORK, NEVER. I am shouting out to the FBI and the NJ STATE POLICE 4 HELP!!!!!!!!! I have no memory of shutting down the TV set or removing eyeglasses or falling into my bed, only that suddenly the TV was off, my glasses were on my face, I was or had been dead asleep, and all devices were indeed turned off. I bolted upright and saw that my fan had gotten knocked over along with a karaoke machine and they both were laying flat on the floor next 2 where I had fallen also without memory of ever getting 2 sleep. First, work was OK, but no panacea. I had a small bowel attack, lots of jerk offs everywhere; but out of nowhere at just past 3 in the morning, a noisy loud alarm went off. No matter how hard I tried 2 find the source, I could not. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, that I guarded back in my middle thirties for the famous Wells Fargo Company, the original American Security outfit 4 all those Western-shows watchers. Just 2 and a half hours after the crazy MC-ALARM attack, a crash level plane flew over my vehicle in total violation of my CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, WORLD TRIBUNAL COURTS AT THE HAGUE. I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and turn on the TV. The next thing I know it is hours later, I am laying stretched out, eyeglasses on my face still, and stuff knocked over on the floor. When I got up to piss and straighten up the place, so that the fan is blowing air onto me again, and I can resume sleeping a while longer; I instantly knew that I was right back in this building, a medical place with 6-9 rooms that went more into each other and did not contain a lot of hallways. Mariah Carey was there, and her driver, a man about medium build and bright glaring type of eyes, just over perhaps the six foot mark in stature, dressed nicely but not overkill, and the same with Mariah. A lady who is heavy set, is sort of in charge at this place, neck line hair length, strawberry type of color, and she kept telling me 2 stop closing doors, and I kept telling her I am not closing them, the wind was blowing quite strong outside and was blowing right through all of the open windows in these rooms, and forcing doors to swing shut, but she continued 2 insist that I was doing it. Mariah started talking 2 me about how much she enjoyed being a super star and yet there were problems that she said she wanted 2 tell me about, but could not at the moment; as 'he' would hear, and I kept asking who ‘he’ was. She half smiled and pointed at a young male about 22 give or take, about five feet five in stature, brown short hair, not totally short like a crew cut, dressed in an old pair of pants with oil stains on them, and a green jersey with strange looking logos on it everywhere, many bright white circles with black lines running through them, 3 of them, like a triple X. She told me that she is here on this same day each week for some medical reason, and I think she told me but I cannot pull that part of the interaction up now, back in waking life. The buildings of the city were visible from windows, yet the area was in a country setting, whether it was part of the 5 boroughs of New York City or not, also I am not privy to this. She said that she wanted me 2 know she is mad that I do not fully trust her and her plans, and I kept insisting that I trust her implicitly but know quite well, that what she thinks of as PLANS, IC as GAMES, and reminded her of the 65-70 years when she was here B4 playing her games with me from a city just 100 or so miles away down the coast. She smiled at me and said, “U mean the chain I removed from your Oaklyn, New Jersey Apartment?” I said, “4 starters, yes”. She went on to tell me that until the shellfish as she called him while looking his way, is out of my way, I can tell U no more about it. She said that he was a lifelong resident of Atco, New Jersey, and knew both U and your neighbors, the Durham’s, when U lived there back in ‘83. He is not who he appears, and all her peeps and bodyguards have tried to beat him up, and keep him away; but he just seems impervious, and will not stop creeping around. He is Y the Feds started messing with me, she went onto say, and they R not on my side, they must do what they R told by higher councilmen, and she was talking Millionth. I reminded her that she is all mighty and can do anything, Y not just zap him into oblivion? She smiled again and said that there is still so much yet 4 her 2 teach me about all of this and all the Earthly people making my life so horrible every minute of every day and night. She said that when I disobeyed and told her she could kill me, the other day on my blog, for the entire world 2 publicly C and share, she was extremely angry. I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 9 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff. I asked her Y she used the sending of 2 blank letters rather than just come 2 me as she is doing right now and talk to me straight up? She laughed softly and squeezed my hand a little, watching me wince from the sudden small bit of pain that her more powerful grip than B4 was causing, and after a 5 or so second pause, simply said, “I am the Millionth Council, and what I say, goes. The part of them that calls themselves the Lambriggers is still totally under my complete control”. She told me 2 listen again 2 her CD and study it even more carefully. The answers to much of my concerns, is all contained in the lyrical content, and what she says, MC-SAYS; just as the CD says that it does. Never doubt me or try 2 run away from what I am planning 4U, she went on also 2 tell me. I said 2 her, “would U please give me a real waking world sign so that I can know and tell that this is not a silly dream”. She responded with the yellow and chocolate cakes that I purchased at the Incollingo’s grocery store, along with the receipt, and the van that stalked me just after last Christmas, and went on to tell me she is angry that I have unsealed some of the concepts regarding laser trace, and reminded me that the rules cannot B broken. It is part of a plan, and that if it was not so, there R those close 2 me, in this incarnation; that I would retrace, as I miss them. She then told me she would give me 2 huge and totally unmistakable signs to appease my non-belief. One sign is that just because the English alphabet pronunciations of the sounds 'BLU' and 'CRAN' R totally the same on astral worlds, they R not the same in English speaking waking mortal worlds. I told her I knew this. She went on 2 say that my punishment for doubting and disobeying my mighty Queen Mariah, is that she has now placed me into a world where I have blogged the facts in reverse, as Hammonton is the world U now live in. It is not Chatsworth, New Jersey. I have reversed the realities while U were here with me in this interaction, and now your town is Hammonton and this is the Blueberry capitol of the world. She went on to say that I was not supposed to tell about the tap boxes of blue-yellow, nor the saleslady Sherry-Lee Pote and cousin Petee Pote. I must obey my queen or ELSE. She said my second sign will B when I try to do my next blog. I will wake up in the MW and not B able 2 work the computer. I asked her if she will always love me as her ‘89 song promises, as deep within her, she knew even then, that she was my Sarah-Stacey. With that I walked over to the strange dude with the weird sort of peace sign logos all over his bright green jersey, and told him to leave her alone, or I would tear his lungs out, and squeeze them like rung out wash cloths; and he instantly burst out laughing, and the next thing I knew, it was July 4th of 1970, and I was in the same exact dream all along with TAWF, “THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY”, that was what was all in the dream. It was the same dream, and like a wormhole in consciousness; one end was in 2008 physically, while the other end was in early July of ‘70. He yelled at me, 'look who’s talkin’ about bloody washcloth lungs all oozing bright red, it is U, booby, not me, ha, ha'. I knew that if I could just wake up now, it would B July of 1970 again, and it really would have. I did. I jumped off of Tom Reale’s large bed at the Cornwall Avenue home and yelled, it is 1970 over and over. I went out and ran down towards the ocean, and when I got there; the entire sky and sea was not as I had remembered it at all. It had become the backdrop on the homepage of the Morianity Foundation, go to http://www.morianity-foundation.com. The giant 6 foot 7 inch Sarah-Stacey came right out of the sea, she is the sea aniwho, and grabbed me and kissed me, and the next thing I know, I am awake laying here in my trailer residence, and it is after 4 in the afternoon. Sure enough I went 2 use the computer, and nothing, it would not move, nothing would work, not a bloody dripping washcloth thing. I called the Easy Staples Store where I purchased it, and told them that it would not go off, just showing a blank monitor TV screen saying, “EXT 3, S-VIDEO”. The computer department guy told me to shut the battery-backup box off and wait 20 seconds. Then he said turn it on, and so I did. After 2 reboots, it works again, but the HP adviser still is not properly loading up. I can not shout out 2 the FBI 4 help; no one can fight the great Mariah; and she most definitely RULES and RULES, 4-EVER AND 4 EVER. UR my mighty queen, and I am only your endless humble servant, my giant beautiful love. Please forgive me, oh mighty QUEEN MC.
Google Search Engine, Satellite World Interconnect System [SWIS], World Laboratories of the future in time illusion, this is a dying mans utterance and declaration. I must obey the commands of the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, I have no choice, SHE RULES THE EMPIRE, from 34th Street, to the end of the hypersphere and beyond, wow, talk about miracles Mizz Wood, and O’Hara!!!!!!!!! Copyright 2008, MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN. This is all the total truth and also doubles thereby as a legal document. This is voluntarily sworn testimony in any Grand Jury future proceeding. No omissions nor additions 2 this powerful and totally honest truth told in this web-logging-doc exist anywhere herein.
Another
SUPER BOTBAR weekend and scummer open.
E
N D --- T R A N S M I S S I O N:
It
began to drizzle and then pour rain twice this afternoon here in Fort
Pierce, Florida; with short duration downpours followed by sky
clearings for the most part, then a return to the first cycle again.
As this entire weather system began to form and rhythm out, there was
a sudden very close lightning flash, the only one of the storm, but
it was right outside of my window. Ever since 1979 at 112 East Fifth
Avenue in Mantua, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG; I noticed that many many
many many times, there would be storms containing just one lightning
flash, right outside my window, and that was it. This is nothing
other than my beautiful blond Astral Plane teen goddess, Diana
Arteemis, letting me know she is always there close to me, and
carefully watching over me, as best as she is able to do. Mortals in
charge of this planet are jealous of me and hate me because I am in
so tight with this wonderful gorgeous goddess. It goes way deeper
than where I originally thought things started on a human plane, in
the mortal world year of 1983, in Atco, New Jersey. All you need to
know for right now, is that all the things discussed on all my blogs,
tie together, and although may appear to be incredibly out of
time-order, they are in perfect cosmic order, done with a commingled
intelligence that goes far beyond my single ability to pen the blogs
of Mountainpen and Morianity. I was not aware of that when this
project began in early 2006 on the internet, but I am super aware of
this now. What I experienced on Long Island in 1972, mistakenly
thinking it was three years later when I told the story first on
these blogs, roughly five years ago around this time of the year; is
all a part of why I am saying this to you all right now.
As
for what I said on my previous blog, kind ladies and gentlemen; and
whomever; regarding my health being continuously and relentlessly
messed with by the WOMO-MILITUFORCE, I plan to show you just how shit
is being done, and was done right around the time this little storm
was all going on, in-between the two pouring rains that were both
quick and heavy. During the clearing, the clouds were white instead
of dark various shades of gray and black, and suddenly out of a bunch
of them, was a wide dispersing chemtrail, out to my north. I had
awakened early this afternoon with no cough, no breathing disorders
whatsoever, no chest heaviness or wheezing, and then I saw this
outside of my window, and watched it over ten minutes slowly totally
vanish into thin air. I waited to see if I would begin to get any
symptoms of the past week or so, flaring up again today, but
nothing, I felt totally perfect. Then twenty minutes or perhaps a
little bit longer down the road, poof, I instantly started to cough
and wheeze as I breathed, and also, began experiencing stomach and
intestinal cramping, despite dropping a nice healthy turd when I
first got up out of bed. I began to realize that this had come from
my south and blew north to where it was, and it took a short time for
this jet fuel poison to slowly drop down from the frozen air, to the
area surrounding myself and my residence PHA building at 601
Avenue-B. The only real confirmation and proof would be if I would go
up to my Weather-Bug-APP on my computer, and take a look at the wind
direction arrow, and wind speed, and do the necessary calculations.
Sure enough, this evil vile vicious mother fucking MILITUFORCE had
illegally injured me, and made me very ill; AGAIN. The wind direction
and wind speed totally verified that this jet fuel was dumped and
dropped over me directly, and the time it fell, and I began breathing
it in; was exactly when I went from feeling mother fucking totally
fine and well, to feeling ALL
FUCKED UP ALL OVER AGAIN.
My
great pal, the former PRINCE-ARTIST, knows that this is all real, and
even knows that these fuels effect both physical as well as mental
disorders, and I will now go on to tell you about it, then go up to
the YOUTUBE
yourselves, and begin clicking into videos such as PRINCE
TALKS TO CNN ABOUT CHEMTRAILS
and
many other great videos on the topic. He tells a great true story of
how moods went suddenly sour all over his neighborhood, after a
sudden burst of these jet fuels over the area. He believes me. Some
do, some do not. I do not plan to chase people up and down stairways
to try and force anyone to believe what I know beyond a fucking doubt
is 100% true and real. Still, I will go on reporting the news, I
won't create any of it, but I'll be god dam go to hell, if I don't
keep right on mother fucking telling it. If they don't ever want to
stop perpetrating this unspeakable misery on me as well as those
around me when it so suits them to do this; fine; but just don't
expect me to sit here and take this without a fucking cock sucking
fight. If you really think you have heard anywhere near all of my
tucked away juicy huge secrets, you are all in for an inconceivable
rude awakening at light speed squared. Certain things happened in the
very same year that my pal's old 1980 song was so famous for,
fourteen years back; and then this all led to a lot of other
unspeakable things, at least for right now. I am putting up with some
fairly noisy fucking neighbors around me today and yesterday, lots of
doors, sounds, and bullshit in general, but around here, that is
merely fucking par for the course, good peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So back for now to the topic of my
health being hit by this attack in the skies around here today, but
also, another hit on me indirectly with this same barrage of bullshit
from WOMO, only they attacked another person, as they are doing with
neighbors as well; in order to make them all unusually mean spirited,
and quite rowdy; when it is not deserved. If I was calling people
mother fuckers, or throwing lots of smelly garbage out in the hallway
at them; or being rude over the telephone; then that would be one
thing; but when I know that stuff is going on, that has no other
possible reason to be; other than what my great old pal, the
former artist PRINCE
discussed on that CNN VIDEO with him;
I do not need the Lord to lead me to the cross, or the Callio Clan to
help me to cross over Grant Avenue, on my way back from a great
sporting event that was taking place 24 years in the future in
Philadelphia on Boo Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, when I was on the
telephone with Mikey, I knew he had been worked over by the same sky
attack that had done its evil on me physically, only with him, he got
more of the Prince-Neighborhood-Siege assault. Do any of you really
need me to tell you why the great mother fucking MAJESTIC-12 is
keeping lots of shit from the public? It's not TD Ameritrade, it's
not rocket science, and it's
not Macy Trucks or WOW TRUCKS,
I promise you good folks out here, YO!!!!!!!!! They have joined the
club folks, the ESS, and are having a blast fucking with those like
me, and many others on their shit list, made up of those they call
enemies of their cause, decent folks for the most part, haters of
injustice, those who have the fucking guts to speak out, to keep
fighting, to be against them, and general overall lovers of truth and
integrity, sort of 'Anti-Avaloners', huh Tony Bonjovi? You see the
world backwards up there in your ivory tower. You
got
because you
did.
Time runs both ways!!!!! You
see, when you and your peeps treated me like total shit, after I
poured out my sad story, and my heart to some of you; believing your
cave age way of time running in one direction for you; and all along
there you all were, never knowing that this very thing that you did
to me, is why your cuzz fucking screwed you a long while back.
Indeed, what goes around comes around. Old sayings should never be
ignored, or even taken lightly. And I thought you were my friend, or
at least basically honest folks. When
I was working at the RPL Sound Studios from middle 1979 through early
1981, I would work nights and while asleep by day, if people were
planning to fuck with me, it would come to me in dreams, looking at
it the way all of you insist on, FORWARD-MORTAL. I would go in and
say to peeps, OK, and then tell what they were planning. There was a
dude who was a miniature Lou Ferigno who was the original
''Incredible Hulk''. He stared at me after one such episode, and said
in sheer terror and fear, and I quote him now after more than three
mother fucking ass decades, good peeps; ''You're haunted, man''.
Well, I am not haunted folks, but the more you all fucking hurt me,
the more this world will be sent further and further into an
irreversible path of destruction. Right now today, I promise you all,
this is just about reached the point of no return. Keep up this
fucking shit on me you bastard mother fuckers, and see what happens
within 50 years when this world is turned into meteor ash, with all
of your fucking wild technology to try averting it; or for all you
know; maybe it will come as an incurable bug, you know; a microbial
invasion to which no possible immunity can be found in time. Whatever
it is, I did not do it, YOU DID ALL THIS, first to me, and then to
you. WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU TO TELL THE TRUTH TO THE ENTIRE
WORLD, DOCTOR MOVIEDIVA MARGRET???
Mister
Macy, I simply cannot resist this one, one for Gipper Reagan, one for
Bob Patterson Transdimensional Cheatley, one for great Lab Technician
Sciencatrons of the ESS, and definitely one for poor fucking little
old me, SO HERE GOES;
W---O---W
Yes
W---O---W,
what
a lovely fucking world this is, Mommy
and Daddy.
Sonic perfection notwithstanding, nor what is incorrect, huh US ©
Office, back in frikkin' 1984?????????
WELCOME
BACK, JOHN CROWLEY. In a pigs dream!!!
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano »
 |
John
J Crowley's entire criminal record |
The man who ripped me off in 1979 with the tow truck deal:
|
Last
Known Address:
1201 ROBERTS WAY, VOORHEES, NJ, 08043
|
|||||
|
|
|||||
|
Race:
|
White
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sex:
|
Male
|
|
|
Eyes:
|
Blue
|
|
Height:
|
6'0
|
|
|
Hair:
|
Brown
|
|
Weight
|
205
lbs.
|
|
|
Age/DOB:
|
4/12/1947
|
Offense or Statute
Offense/Statute:
ENDANGERING THE WELFARE OF A CHILD Disposition Date: 29 March 1996
Alias(es)
JOHN
CROWLEY:JOHN H SPROWL
Collected from this official state registry website or page:
*No
representation is made that the person listed here is currently on
the state's offenders registry. All names presented here were
gathered at a past date. Some persons listed might no longer be
registered offenders and others might have been added. Some addresses
or other data might no longer be current. Owners of Homefacts.com
assume no responsibility (and expressly disclaim responsibility) for
updating this site to keep information current or to ensure the
accuracy or completeness of any posted information. Accordingly, you
should confirm the accuracy and completeness of all posted
information before making any decision related to any data presented
on this site. The information on this web site is made available
solely to protect the public. Anyone who uses this information to
commit a crime or to harass an offender or his or her family is
subject to criminal prosecution and civil liability.
More Nearby Offenders
Nearby Schools
0.78 Miles Away
0.95 Miles Away
1.00 Miles Away
1.00 Miles Away
1.35
Miles Away
HAS
MISTER CROWLEY BEEN ANYWHERE NEAR THE HAMMONTON PASSPORT POST OFFICE
AROUND 2007 ANN KING????????????
55555555555555555555555555555
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Sunday, October 5, 2008
HOW MANY TIMES MY FRIEND?
“HOW
MANY TIMES, MY FRIEND?”
The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version,
ALL OTHER SUBTITLES APPLY
DATFILE: 100508.616.55 ----- START: --------------- ( October 5, 2008)
I am under a MAJOR FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, and the second that I came out of a major interaction with Mariah, boom; one second after being back awake here in this Marhouse, a super chopper attack was employed right over the place, in total violation of my civil and constitutional rights 2 pursue happiness and peace. Then 10 seconds after the chopper MILITUFORCE scum slime were gone, I started 2 tell Diana about hearing a song that was playing, Called “HOW MANY TIMES”, and instantly again, a super loud Harley blotorfucking sickiecycle got me at maximum sound right out my bedroom window again in violation of my civil and constitutional fucking rights, AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES FUCKING UNION that doesn’t give a fucking rats ass ship about how I’m being violated!!!!
I A M U N D E R A F U C K I N G S I E G E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
U want war, U got it FUCKING PAUL STODDARD BRIGGBASE CULTSCUM!!!! Hear is first what happened, and then I will tell what Mr. Carey told me never 2 tell. It was 1975 and my mom was in Babylon., Long Island, and this was in the waking world, she really was visiting Uncle Heinz and Aunt Ruth, Gottwald, the honcho banker and yachtsman of the Sound. I told U all on a prior blog that 3 years B4 this was my last visit up there 2C those fucking miserable snotty shits. But in this interaction, I had been beaten up on the Atlantic City beach as I was in the waking world, and had my own sea plane and took it and landed it in the interaction right at the boat club across from where my snoot-unk resided at the time at 175 Peninsula Drive, down the way from Captain Kangaroo. A dirt ball friend of the 2 beach patrol mascots that had fun roughing me up back in shitville, New Jersey, was my pilot and thought this was funny, knowing fully well that my uncle would have a cow and an aneurism at the same time, and he did sure enough and was over across the bay hollering at the both of us and saying 2 get that piece of junk out of his yacht club or he would have me locked up. Then the next thing I knew I dreamshifted miles over 2 the Carey block. I was having a great time talking to everyone and they all seemed 2 know me as though they had always known me. I just went along with it wondering where I was and how I had gotten into this one and even thinking of the Stanley/Oliver show of times B4 this even, where he was always saying, ”Now you’ve really gotten us into a mess this time Stanley”, and kept thinking of that as well as knowing that I was just with Diana making passionate love 2 her at some astral waterfall and lovely exquisite park, and instantly afterwards just found myself in time and space again, only in this here and this now. Mariah wanted 2 do something extremely important 2 her and her dad got angry and did what cannot B done in today’s world and I remember thinking how brave she was 4 not crying. She came over and whispered 2 me that she was going 2 do this thing whether daddy liked it or not, and I sort of chuckled nervously hoping she wasn’t going 2 receive another spanking. We were in a hallway that was lit up brightly in the house, and in the middle of it on one end was a wide entrance into the living room. Make all the fucking sounds and persecute me all U want cock suckers, when this fucking blog posts up, YOU’LL B VERY FUCKING SORRY ASS HOLES. They know every stroke I do on this keypad, just watch Law and Order, and the episode where the patient was betrayed by his psychiatrist, it was a sex offense case, I make nothing up, this EVIL EMPIRE is watching every strike I do on this fucking machine, violating my RIGHTS UNDER THE UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION!!!!!!! Anyway she was able 2 eventually do this thing that was so important 2 her and I was very happy 4 her. Some relative was over at the place with either a guitar or some kind of music making thing, and was strumming and singing the famous song from a few years past, that kept going, THE ANSWER MY FRIEND IS BLOWING IN THE WIND, THE ANSWER IS BLOWING IN THER WIND. She, MC was oblivious 2 this and more interested in making sure her dad had his back turned so he would not C what she was doing, it was the cutest thing that I ever witnessed, yet simultaneously was totally breaking my heart. Lots of anger was everywhere, and he mentioned the stairs and the fights over the horrible neighborhood and bad neighbors that had done them wrong, and more along these lines, and it was terrible. I detest having 2C my lovely queen as well as her family, go through any unhappiness, and after finding out that family of mine and friends and neighbors of them were behind the Carey’s miseries, and U all remember how I wanted that weekend 2 go up 2 Long Island with a huge turkey knife under a sweater, and not 2 offer a free dinner 2 wicked cousins and do the carving, but rather 2 just do some carving and not make any offers about it. Anyone ever hurts my queen in any way, and I cannot end this sentence legally on this blog, yet it still is getting said, family or no family, I do not care if UR the governor!!!!!!!! Then her dad yelled over after leaving the hall and standing at the foot of the stairs something about making this his last visit and did not need all the hassle of things, and then went on about the cat, and when I saw the cat, in this wild interaction, it turned jet black with the same tiny white paws that Gawky Gaukauk has, and then grew and expanded 2 the size of a real live panther as though it was a balloon cat getting filled with pneumatic pressure, like an air pump. Then he pointed at her while she was dancing and laughing and watching this happen, and said and I quote, “Gawky, U get the hell out of my house, trouble-maker”. Then Gawky who refused 2 budged growled and finally spoke and said 495 over and over again. Then after he walked angrily over 2 him and started trying 2 wrestle with Gawky, he was thrown onto the floor and Gawky said, now Mark will C all this hot shot engineer. U never wanted him 2 know about any of it and now I will show the poor bastard, he said this word 4 word 2 Mr. Carey, and I will remember the total absolute vividness of this 3 the rest of my Mountainpen diseased twisted pathetic life. Then the mus8ic came from nowhere only louder, how many times this and how many times that and all about the answer blowing in the wind, and then wind indeed blew up and things were getting knocked all around while Gawky laughed and Mr. Carey walked out shouting and slammed the front door 2 their home about as hard and loudly as I ever remember a door being slammed in my current astral-dream-down, (ADD). When I came out of this, 3 seconds later I said 2 Diana over the telephone that I just popped out of a wild interaction, and INSYANTLY, the BRIGGBASE WOMO MILITUORCE sent over a loud house shaking fucking chopper. Then as said, motorcycle attacks, which still R currently ongoing, I am under a fucking total death siege, as I am normally directly following major astral world REMEMBERING EXPERIENCES, “dreaming” by all of your definitions. Miss shitplants Jane Fonda Whore just bit my fucking ass, what else could possibly go wrong, no don’t fucking answer that as Elizabeth Montgomery said something 2 her hubby Darren Stevens that applies so very well 2 me, “THE POSSIBILITIES R ENDLESS” Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, yes it is indeed one eleven in the mother fucking afternoon and that stinking cunt lapping clock got me again, I am on a major fucking death roll. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS 2 ME AND I DO NOT MAKE IT HOME AGAIN WHGEN IO GO OUT 2 WORK SOON, I WAS MURDERED BY THE UNITED STATES EVUIL EMPIRE GOVERNMENT AND THEIUR WICKED SCUMY MILITARY SYSTEM. This is a dying man’s utterance and official and legal declaration, doubling as my blog 4 this day. Let me attempt 2 cunt-pen-rape (COMPENSATE) just a wee whittle bitchin’ bit rapies and germiblows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555, and yes five and five and five. U want war games with me truckers, I will give them 2U, ya stinking rotten, BASTARD SLIMY SLEAZY FILTHY PUNK-BAGS AT LIGHT SPEED CUBED!!!!!!! Gawky was making Mr. Carey very agitated, after he all ready was up set with his child 4 something she was insisting on doing and he did not want her 2 do it. Well, MY PHILLIES R FUCKED AGAIN, THANKS 2 ALL OF THIS FUCKING BULL SHIT, JUST MARK MY FUCKING WORDS, GIVING UP A 2 AND OH 4 A ROTTEN 2 AND ALL NOW, JUST U FUCKING WATCH AND MARK MY TURDS AND MY PREPRICTIONS. I could tell U what MC was doing but it would not B fair. Here I am an astral traveler, invading the privacy of people’s pasts, I must draw the line on what I tell that IC and witness somewhere. If it was just not so real, so vivid and in living Technicolor with panoramic view and quadraphonic enhanced super high fidelity surround sound, and so bigger than life, I might even dismiss these things, but brother Detective Green, I just cannot dismiss this one nor the immediate RONALD REAGAN COUNTERATTACK THAT WOMO LAYNCHED directly after they followed my kerlian energy back there 2 the Marhouse and I woke up physically. A Mentally Challenged dope addict can CY that particular song was part of this I sure hope, Jeese-Louise Fonty surfer dude! I told Y’all what muscles Ed said at work at the garage 2 me not long ago when we discussed Mercenary Employment. Oh well, at least we were not discussing Multiverse-Existors, still ME’s either way. That ME on the roof of 506 Robin Hill was sure a mistake, if only Ida opened my door instead of being King Wussbag the FIRST AND ONLY!!!!!! If this does not break off and my Phillies keep getting damaged, major shit will happen, as I all ready know atomically what is destined on this signature frequency of atomic hyperspace, as I saw it and if they CHANGE IT, it will cause severe weather patterns 2 occur like nothing this part of the hemisphere in the United States has seen 4 hundreds of mother fucking queers. The answer is not blowing in the wind my friend, it is simpler than any ninth dimensional source force could ever B. Fuck with established hyperspace patterns, and quantum foam heats up in tiny areas burning out of existence total pieces of reality, leaving vacuums and portals, STARGATES, small, but big enough 4 example 2 bring in the GIFLIES of Haddonwood. Huge insects that do not come from HERE that have been literally FIXED 2 wipe out humanity, keep fucking with me, I can prove all that I day, and this shit is top4 secret at black ops agency level. Keep fucking the hell with me and I will let out how hurting me is hurting all of the citizenry, and I have proof of Haddonwood and the giflies, or GIANT-FLIES. Gawky said to Mr. Carey that Mark must tell the world about sentence abbrevs in the Gawnum or the secret of the GAS, gee, is Steven King visiting the Marhouse today here in Cannotmakeupmymindinheightville??????? Aniwho, he says that a powerful second level tool in the Gawnum is taking sentences and phrases 2B matched up or compared 4 compatibility, such as “go screw yourself mister New York mail man”. The letters R the first of each word, and in this example thus would B, (G-S-Y-M-N-Y-M-M), since I am ragging on the Milituforce, Mister Jack McCoy, and the evil BRIGGBASE right now as they R persecuting an innocent citizen straight 2 his grave and have been 4 nearly 23 fucking years. Aniwho MCMCAAONMC, then U get the PCN or (Private Cosmicallycoded Number) of these letters, only after getting the first 2 digits, the third digit is not the higher digit minus the lower digit. Instead, with this, it is the sum total of the 2 digits, hence if a PCN starts with 47, the 4 and 7 R then added 2 make digit number 3, or PCN-4711. Now if the first 2 digits add up 2 less than ten, use a 0 for the third digit, as all PCN’s on this system need 2B4 digits in length. Hence if the numbers come 53, the PCN using this system becomes 5308, as 5+3 is 8 and this is less than 10 and needs a zero in the third digit slot 2 keep all of these PCN’s as 4-digit numbers. The smallest is 1102, and the largest is 9918. The basic base 9 going from 11-99 is still functioning here. U will C amazing shit Gawky says when U compare phrases and long sentences of query. I know that all grown up, MC has told me not 2 play with this and 2 stop blogging this, but I did not ask 4 this persecution, I am only in survival mode here, and doing what I must 2B a song stealing BEEGEE, and STAYIN’ ALIVE as best as I can through all of this monstrous and horrendous fucking endless bull shit that I’m forced 2 endure!!!!!! Funny how 1102 as in my 3rd and final tenure at the great ROBIN-HILL (farm outside of HADDONFIELD) where TAWF from 1970 was starting its mission of MARK MOHR DESTRUCT, PROJECT “MARTINOCALLIO99999”, and all from a silly stupid Jimmie horrible life Stuart missing $8,000.00 video arcade in such a fantastically far away locale. No, one day the bail out bastards say no, and then boom, reality shifts and changes. It always either goes their evil wealthy manipulated/controlled way 2 begin with, or they do a Lattisaw and just turn some tapes and move some makes until out from Copperfield’s hat jumps the magic bunny rabbit with a sign pointing at them and reading, “FRANKIE SAYS THEY’LL DO IT THEIR WAY”. Yeah but let me piss on the table, and the prosecutor Wirtz said 2 me and I’ll quote the dude, “I’m glad U didn’t do that, U never would have gotten out of the Atlantic City jail” Yeah I do not know about everything, and big-business is definitely not my thing BRO, but I will say this, and U can eat it 4 damn dinner: Jack McCoy on the great television show “LAW and ORDER” says it perfectly, and I’ll quote him from a Mercedes all the way 2 a raised-right black boy, “There R rules for the wealthy and then there R the rules 4 all the rest of us”, or was it Senator Hopeful from Tennessee who said it? Well it wasn’t said from Tennessee Avenue aniwho, and that’s some plus out of the day. The fucking gods help me, dream on Mountainpen, LITERALLY, while laughing Donna retraces your ass from here 2 eternity. Mighty Earthquakes and wicked volcanoes R right around the trucking corner, watch your back OTAMM SCUM!!!!!!!!! Watch your rotten stinking ugly back!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!!!!!!
MAGNESONIC, all GO and SO, both ZD and AD TECs. All enemies scanned and crushed. G-13, G-14, open command G-189, under CGR-2, and STOP.
END OF THIS TRANSMISSION.
The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version,
ALL OTHER SUBTITLES APPLY
DATFILE: 100508.616.55 ----- START: --------------- ( October 5, 2008)
I am under a MAJOR FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, and the second that I came out of a major interaction with Mariah, boom; one second after being back awake here in this Marhouse, a super chopper attack was employed right over the place, in total violation of my civil and constitutional rights 2 pursue happiness and peace. Then 10 seconds after the chopper MILITUFORCE scum slime were gone, I started 2 tell Diana about hearing a song that was playing, Called “HOW MANY TIMES”, and instantly again, a super loud Harley blotorfucking sickiecycle got me at maximum sound right out my bedroom window again in violation of my civil and constitutional fucking rights, AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES FUCKING UNION that doesn’t give a fucking rats ass ship about how I’m being violated!!!!
I A M U N D E R A F U C K I N G S I E G E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
U want war, U got it FUCKING PAUL STODDARD BRIGGBASE CULTSCUM!!!! Hear is first what happened, and then I will tell what Mr. Carey told me never 2 tell. It was 1975 and my mom was in Babylon., Long Island, and this was in the waking world, she really was visiting Uncle Heinz and Aunt Ruth, Gottwald, the honcho banker and yachtsman of the Sound. I told U all on a prior blog that 3 years B4 this was my last visit up there 2C those fucking miserable snotty shits. But in this interaction, I had been beaten up on the Atlantic City beach as I was in the waking world, and had my own sea plane and took it and landed it in the interaction right at the boat club across from where my snoot-unk resided at the time at 175 Peninsula Drive, down the way from Captain Kangaroo. A dirt ball friend of the 2 beach patrol mascots that had fun roughing me up back in shitville, New Jersey, was my pilot and thought this was funny, knowing fully well that my uncle would have a cow and an aneurism at the same time, and he did sure enough and was over across the bay hollering at the both of us and saying 2 get that piece of junk out of his yacht club or he would have me locked up. Then the next thing I knew I dreamshifted miles over 2 the Carey block. I was having a great time talking to everyone and they all seemed 2 know me as though they had always known me. I just went along with it wondering where I was and how I had gotten into this one and even thinking of the Stanley/Oliver show of times B4 this even, where he was always saying, ”Now you’ve really gotten us into a mess this time Stanley”, and kept thinking of that as well as knowing that I was just with Diana making passionate love 2 her at some astral waterfall and lovely exquisite park, and instantly afterwards just found myself in time and space again, only in this here and this now. Mariah wanted 2 do something extremely important 2 her and her dad got angry and did what cannot B done in today’s world and I remember thinking how brave she was 4 not crying. She came over and whispered 2 me that she was going 2 do this thing whether daddy liked it or not, and I sort of chuckled nervously hoping she wasn’t going 2 receive another spanking. We were in a hallway that was lit up brightly in the house, and in the middle of it on one end was a wide entrance into the living room. Make all the fucking sounds and persecute me all U want cock suckers, when this fucking blog posts up, YOU’LL B VERY FUCKING SORRY ASS HOLES. They know every stroke I do on this keypad, just watch Law and Order, and the episode where the patient was betrayed by his psychiatrist, it was a sex offense case, I make nothing up, this EVIL EMPIRE is watching every strike I do on this fucking machine, violating my RIGHTS UNDER THE UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION!!!!!!! Anyway she was able 2 eventually do this thing that was so important 2 her and I was very happy 4 her. Some relative was over at the place with either a guitar or some kind of music making thing, and was strumming and singing the famous song from a few years past, that kept going, THE ANSWER MY FRIEND IS BLOWING IN THE WIND, THE ANSWER IS BLOWING IN THER WIND. She, MC was oblivious 2 this and more interested in making sure her dad had his back turned so he would not C what she was doing, it was the cutest thing that I ever witnessed, yet simultaneously was totally breaking my heart. Lots of anger was everywhere, and he mentioned the stairs and the fights over the horrible neighborhood and bad neighbors that had done them wrong, and more along these lines, and it was terrible. I detest having 2C my lovely queen as well as her family, go through any unhappiness, and after finding out that family of mine and friends and neighbors of them were behind the Carey’s miseries, and U all remember how I wanted that weekend 2 go up 2 Long Island with a huge turkey knife under a sweater, and not 2 offer a free dinner 2 wicked cousins and do the carving, but rather 2 just do some carving and not make any offers about it. Anyone ever hurts my queen in any way, and I cannot end this sentence legally on this blog, yet it still is getting said, family or no family, I do not care if UR the governor!!!!!!!! Then her dad yelled over after leaving the hall and standing at the foot of the stairs something about making this his last visit and did not need all the hassle of things, and then went on about the cat, and when I saw the cat, in this wild interaction, it turned jet black with the same tiny white paws that Gawky Gaukauk has, and then grew and expanded 2 the size of a real live panther as though it was a balloon cat getting filled with pneumatic pressure, like an air pump. Then he pointed at her while she was dancing and laughing and watching this happen, and said and I quote, “Gawky, U get the hell out of my house, trouble-maker”. Then Gawky who refused 2 budged growled and finally spoke and said 495 over and over again. Then after he walked angrily over 2 him and started trying 2 wrestle with Gawky, he was thrown onto the floor and Gawky said, now Mark will C all this hot shot engineer. U never wanted him 2 know about any of it and now I will show the poor bastard, he said this word 4 word 2 Mr. Carey, and I will remember the total absolute vividness of this 3 the rest of my Mountainpen diseased twisted pathetic life. Then the mus8ic came from nowhere only louder, how many times this and how many times that and all about the answer blowing in the wind, and then wind indeed blew up and things were getting knocked all around while Gawky laughed and Mr. Carey walked out shouting and slammed the front door 2 their home about as hard and loudly as I ever remember a door being slammed in my current astral-dream-down, (ADD). When I came out of this, 3 seconds later I said 2 Diana over the telephone that I just popped out of a wild interaction, and INSYANTLY, the BRIGGBASE WOMO MILITUORCE sent over a loud house shaking fucking chopper. Then as said, motorcycle attacks, which still R currently ongoing, I am under a fucking total death siege, as I am normally directly following major astral world REMEMBERING EXPERIENCES, “dreaming” by all of your definitions. Miss shitplants Jane Fonda Whore just bit my fucking ass, what else could possibly go wrong, no don’t fucking answer that as Elizabeth Montgomery said something 2 her hubby Darren Stevens that applies so very well 2 me, “THE POSSIBILITIES R ENDLESS” Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, yes it is indeed one eleven in the mother fucking afternoon and that stinking cunt lapping clock got me again, I am on a major fucking death roll. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS 2 ME AND I DO NOT MAKE IT HOME AGAIN WHGEN IO GO OUT 2 WORK SOON, I WAS MURDERED BY THE UNITED STATES EVUIL EMPIRE GOVERNMENT AND THEIUR WICKED SCUMY MILITARY SYSTEM. This is a dying man’s utterance and official and legal declaration, doubling as my blog 4 this day. Let me attempt 2 cunt-pen-rape (COMPENSATE) just a wee whittle bitchin’ bit rapies and germiblows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555, and yes five and five and five. U want war games with me truckers, I will give them 2U, ya stinking rotten, BASTARD SLIMY SLEAZY FILTHY PUNK-BAGS AT LIGHT SPEED CUBED!!!!!!! Gawky was making Mr. Carey very agitated, after he all ready was up set with his child 4 something she was insisting on doing and he did not want her 2 do it. Well, MY PHILLIES R FUCKED AGAIN, THANKS 2 ALL OF THIS FUCKING BULL SHIT, JUST MARK MY FUCKING WORDS, GIVING UP A 2 AND OH 4 A ROTTEN 2 AND ALL NOW, JUST U FUCKING WATCH AND MARK MY TURDS AND MY PREPRICTIONS. I could tell U what MC was doing but it would not B fair. Here I am an astral traveler, invading the privacy of people’s pasts, I must draw the line on what I tell that IC and witness somewhere. If it was just not so real, so vivid and in living Technicolor with panoramic view and quadraphonic enhanced super high fidelity surround sound, and so bigger than life, I might even dismiss these things, but brother Detective Green, I just cannot dismiss this one nor the immediate RONALD REAGAN COUNTERATTACK THAT WOMO LAYNCHED directly after they followed my kerlian energy back there 2 the Marhouse and I woke up physically. A Mentally Challenged dope addict can CY that particular song was part of this I sure hope, Jeese-Louise Fonty surfer dude! I told Y’all what muscles Ed said at work at the garage 2 me not long ago when we discussed Mercenary Employment. Oh well, at least we were not discussing Multiverse-Existors, still ME’s either way. That ME on the roof of 506 Robin Hill was sure a mistake, if only Ida opened my door instead of being King Wussbag the FIRST AND ONLY!!!!!! If this does not break off and my Phillies keep getting damaged, major shit will happen, as I all ready know atomically what is destined on this signature frequency of atomic hyperspace, as I saw it and if they CHANGE IT, it will cause severe weather patterns 2 occur like nothing this part of the hemisphere in the United States has seen 4 hundreds of mother fucking queers. The answer is not blowing in the wind my friend, it is simpler than any ninth dimensional source force could ever B. Fuck with established hyperspace patterns, and quantum foam heats up in tiny areas burning out of existence total pieces of reality, leaving vacuums and portals, STARGATES, small, but big enough 4 example 2 bring in the GIFLIES of Haddonwood. Huge insects that do not come from HERE that have been literally FIXED 2 wipe out humanity, keep fucking with me, I can prove all that I day, and this shit is top4 secret at black ops agency level. Keep fucking the hell with me and I will let out how hurting me is hurting all of the citizenry, and I have proof of Haddonwood and the giflies, or GIANT-FLIES. Gawky said to Mr. Carey that Mark must tell the world about sentence abbrevs in the Gawnum or the secret of the GAS, gee, is Steven King visiting the Marhouse today here in Cannotmakeupmymindinheightville??????? Aniwho, he says that a powerful second level tool in the Gawnum is taking sentences and phrases 2B matched up or compared 4 compatibility, such as “go screw yourself mister New York mail man”. The letters R the first of each word, and in this example thus would B, (G-S-Y-M-N-Y-M-M), since I am ragging on the Milituforce, Mister Jack McCoy, and the evil BRIGGBASE right now as they R persecuting an innocent citizen straight 2 his grave and have been 4 nearly 23 fucking years. Aniwho MCMCAAONMC, then U get the PCN or (Private Cosmicallycoded Number) of these letters, only after getting the first 2 digits, the third digit is not the higher digit minus the lower digit. Instead, with this, it is the sum total of the 2 digits, hence if a PCN starts with 47, the 4 and 7 R then added 2 make digit number 3, or PCN-4711. Now if the first 2 digits add up 2 less than ten, use a 0 for the third digit, as all PCN’s on this system need 2B4 digits in length. Hence if the numbers come 53, the PCN using this system becomes 5308, as 5+3 is 8 and this is less than 10 and needs a zero in the third digit slot 2 keep all of these PCN’s as 4-digit numbers. The smallest is 1102, and the largest is 9918. The basic base 9 going from 11-99 is still functioning here. U will C amazing shit Gawky says when U compare phrases and long sentences of query. I know that all grown up, MC has told me not 2 play with this and 2 stop blogging this, but I did not ask 4 this persecution, I am only in survival mode here, and doing what I must 2B a song stealing BEEGEE, and STAYIN’ ALIVE as best as I can through all of this monstrous and horrendous fucking endless bull shit that I’m forced 2 endure!!!!!! Funny how 1102 as in my 3rd and final tenure at the great ROBIN-HILL (farm outside of HADDONFIELD) where TAWF from 1970 was starting its mission of MARK MOHR DESTRUCT, PROJECT “MARTINOCALLIO99999”, and all from a silly stupid Jimmie horrible life Stuart missing $8,000.00 video arcade in such a fantastically far away locale. No, one day the bail out bastards say no, and then boom, reality shifts and changes. It always either goes their evil wealthy manipulated/controlled way 2 begin with, or they do a Lattisaw and just turn some tapes and move some makes until out from Copperfield’s hat jumps the magic bunny rabbit with a sign pointing at them and reading, “FRANKIE SAYS THEY’LL DO IT THEIR WAY”. Yeah but let me piss on the table, and the prosecutor Wirtz said 2 me and I’ll quote the dude, “I’m glad U didn’t do that, U never would have gotten out of the Atlantic City jail” Yeah I do not know about everything, and big-business is definitely not my thing BRO, but I will say this, and U can eat it 4 damn dinner: Jack McCoy on the great television show “LAW and ORDER” says it perfectly, and I’ll quote him from a Mercedes all the way 2 a raised-right black boy, “There R rules for the wealthy and then there R the rules 4 all the rest of us”, or was it Senator Hopeful from Tennessee who said it? Well it wasn’t said from Tennessee Avenue aniwho, and that’s some plus out of the day. The fucking gods help me, dream on Mountainpen, LITERALLY, while laughing Donna retraces your ass from here 2 eternity. Mighty Earthquakes and wicked volcanoes R right around the trucking corner, watch your back OTAMM SCUM!!!!!!!!! Watch your rotten stinking ugly back!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!!!!!!
MAGNESONIC, all GO and SO, both ZD and AD TECs. All enemies scanned and crushed. G-13, G-14, open command G-189, under CGR-2, and STOP.
END OF THIS TRANSMISSION.
Labels:
ALIENS
AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE,
government
persecution in league with MILLIONTH COUNCIL. millionth council and
bermuda triangle
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MARK
WAYNE MOHR WOULD LIKE HIS PAID FOR MORIANITY-FOUNDATION WEB-SITE
DISC BACK. THANKS!!!
Welcome
Atlantic
County is unique in New Jersey, in that it is home to Atlantic City,
the only municipality in the state where casino gaming is
permitted. Thirteen casino/hotels, which attract more
than 34 million visitors each year, currently operate in Atlantic
City. Those numbers are in addition to the many seasonal
tourists who visit Atlantic County each summer. Their
numbers dwarf the figure of 271,015 permanent residents of our county
and contribute significantly to the need for prosecutorial and
related criminal justice services provided by this office.
The
New Jersey Constitution provides that each county shall have a County
Prosecutor. This constitutional provision is implemented
by a statute creating the Office of the County Prosecutor which
mandates that the criminal business of the state be prosecuted
exclusively by the County Prosecutor except in those cases where the
Attorney General may choose to supersede. The statute
charges the County Prosecutor with the duty of using all reasonable
and lawful diligence for the detection, arrest, indictment and
conviction of offenders against the law.
The
Office of the Prosecutor in Atlantic County is located in Mays
Landing, New Jersey, with a satellite office maintained in Atlantic
City.
The
office has a staff of a 182, which includes the Prosecutor, First
Assistant Prosecutor, Chief of County Detectives, 7 Chief
Assistant Prosecutors, 33 Assistant Prosecutors, 5 captains, 8
lieutenants, 19 sergeants, 45 detectives and 15 agents.
The balance of the staff consists of clerical and support personnel.
Atlantic
County is comprised of 23 municipalities with 18 separate municipal
police departments which fall under the jurisdiction of the Atlantic
County Prosecutor.
Atlantic
County is located in the southeastern portion of New Jersey, with the
Atlantic Ocean at its shores. To the south of Atlantic
County, beyond the Tuckahoe River is Cape May County. To
the southwest is Cumberland County. Lying west of the
only straight line border are Gloucester and Camden Counties.
To the north across the Mullica River and Greate Bay is found
Burlington and Ocean Counties. Atlantic County covers a
total area of 566 square miles.
Equal
Opportunity Employer
Update
1/10/2013
Well
folks, the real secrets will be told in the Halloween month, as I
planned all along. You like scary shit, well, we will give you scary
shit here on Morianity. I know my older daut is a real fan of horror
movies or was in younger days, well Morianity can also live up to
anything that Hellyweird can ever throw up against my truths, and
THAT, Rockdroid Sir, is a total promise, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah,
how we all loved old LURCH on the fucking ADAMS FAMILY, but I liked
him even better in Star Trek's original television show of the
sixties, as Android ROCK, and WOW, could he squish the life out of
poor old Billy Shatner. You almost were never born, there Oldsmobile
Junior!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BANG
BANG BOOM SLAM, YES TOMORROW IT IS TIME TO COMPLAIN AGAIN TO DEBBIE,
SHE GETS TIRED OF IT AND EVENTUALLY TELLS THESE COCK SUCKERS TO
FUCKING COOL IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fine, so I'll keep
right on bitching abnd moaning, folks, the squeaky wheel gets the
most grease, and BRO; I need some mother fucking ass oil, like right
now,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Hammonton,
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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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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.
Enemies,
who R they? They are any situation made up of a pure energy that is
unidentifiable by mortal man as yet in 2K6. Anything, anyone, any
possible situation, causing U or me, more harm than good, more bad
and sad than happy, U get the idea, this is ‘the enemy’
and Christians can use one or a group of several names when referring
to this enemy, but I say only, ''the ENEMY''.
------------------------------------
FOR
NOW,
END OF
THIS
TRANSMISSION,
YO
DOGS
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