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MORIANITY
PART 6, CHAPTER 19
9
OCTOBER, 2013, 2:12 POST MERIDIAN, WED.
NOT
SQUICHY SQUASHY LIZZARD DESTRUCT HUMP!!!
I
need to tell some thing, ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much
for affording me the privilege of getting all of this very heavy
weight off of my poor old back. The Beatles from long ago know very
well what I'm talking about, DON'T THEY
Mister Bruner Marcucci.
Going
through some of my days and having some of my experiences, allow me
to say this little thing to you with a full and open heart. I would
choose and elect to remove 90 percent of my life and have only lived
to age ten or fifteen or whatever, to be rid of what has all happened
around me, and still is happening, even though it may appear
invisible while it is being formed in the early stages of the wicked
minds of the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE and all of their so many human
doppelganger peeps who serve 'the cause'.
Paula
King, and all of the 'Bank
of New Jersey' long walks
in the snow other KINGS from 1978 along New Jersey's Black Horse
Pike; as previously discussed on earlier texts from earlier blogs;
has a major affinity for Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City in New
Jersey, and f course, the wonderful governor knows the whole dirty
mess from top to bottom, and isn't fooling me for a second, and I
mean this from the heart, and the stomach, literally, and honestly;
god bless them all. They have their own karma to sweat over
eventually, all of them, so god bless them, or more accurately folks,
GODDESS BLESS ALL OF THEM, and why not, for all intents and purposes,
Paula is GODDESS, a very interchangeable multiple personality
Goddess, by the name of Jehovah, actually, so watch out who you piss
off, my old pal, mister Philbin, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did they all
leave you alive, old buddy, Mister Cable of the once Camden, New
Jersey Bank of the disco times?????
Oh
Mom, I have not forgotten you, nor your pathetic story, that was
destined to become a part of MORIANITY all the way from the middle
seventies right up through late into twenty freaking twelve, YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!! I never forget anything, unless TAWF employs
their magical weaponry to make me do so, and this is not something I
have any power over. King Akoslem Almighty, yeah, they'll all help me
all right, down there; ''WHEN I'M DEAD'', right President James Earl,
Sir????????????????????????????????? Folks let me get right to it.
Many folks are part of the Milituforce,but in keeping with recent
traditions of placing 'Dark shadows' lovely Nancy Barrett in the
spotlight of Morianity these days; some totally know it, while others
do not know it, and are being used literally, as WALKING PROBES. This
goes beyond somnambulism in the third dimension, this is the full
five at work, my Morians, and of course, ''others''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So let me get right to the beating TNT heart of pulsating programmed
universes of the days of scrolls, moles, and assholes!
I
do not like discussing current events, as this is MORIANITY, and is
meant to last longer than current events and their memories,
hopefully. If my sown seeds are good enough, my mission will be
accomplished, if not, well; the hell with all. Of it, I tried, and I
gave all I could give, at the office as well as at home, James Early
non Carter Jones Dream Fields somewhere near the Boston Harbor, and
tell AT&T that I said 4 years later,
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes Mister Walker, I still have my
moves, and so does Russ Pratt from Chuck Avenue in Atco, with a
transdimensional city skyline out there, ''somewhere, Captain Kirk''!
Without getting myself all bitten up on a particular roof top by some
big ass mean dogs, John and Photeous and evil stare-down Mary-Mom on
that lovely hot day in 1997 on the great street; I will tell you that
all the lies that have been told to me mean squat. You all want me in
the mother fuckin g sewer at light speed, and fine, you successfully
put me there, you rotten pricks. But one by one, I am watching all of
you dropping like overgrown horse GIFLIES from the skies over
Haddonwood on hot summer afternoons in 1996. It's all just the same
thing to see, lyrics or no lyrics, and my rhymes try to be quite
accurate, all knowing daughter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh
Ziggy my pal from, yeah, back then, crissake, where the fucking shit
are you when I need you? I told you I'd find a way to make people
live forever, and I kept my word. Why won't any of you follow suit?
If I am not being lied to, I'm getting property thrown into rivers by
powerful teen girls who hated me because I wouldn't be a stud for
their gang, both at the local seashore and near to my home as a
teenager. I can't win for all the dam tea in China, Red John
Henningsen, from John Lovezemyoung Denver!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh well, in
all seriousness, alive or dead, in or out of the Hammonton Blueberry
Fields, please folks, go ahead, ask me if I care? Just go ask me at
light speed cubed!!!!!!!! Laugh Icabod Crane and mike McNulty, laugh
out loud all night long if it makes you feel like a couple of big ass
heroes, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ROSEANN
DELANEY CAN BIT MY THROAT OUT FOR ALL I GIVE A DAM. SO CAN YOU, BIG
PAULA BALCONY DANGLER LOVELYVOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes,
Paula King has a PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER OF 927. Darius Evans has
the number of 275. Their PCNT or TOTAL comes to the number 1202, sort
of like combining long time address street numbers of myself back in
1980 in Voorhees, New Jersey, and my cousin Sandy Mason, the great
friend of the Callio clan, under some kind of direct influence of a
country that America is always having troubles with, yet a lot more
in very recent times as well as back in the Donna Summer days of that
noise they called disco, still beating the future alternative of hip
hop and rap, AHA-AHA-AHA MCNULTY, SIR!!!!!!!!!
How
compatible is PCN-275 with PCN-927, you know Darius and Paula? A huge
75 percent, it ranges from either 0, 25, 50, 75, or 100. This is not
a discourse on working out Gawnum Equations, so we will just leave
this shit right where it is for right now, good folks, 'OK' Mister
King Hoseman? Well none of this mess is any prize, and I sure don't
look like the Law & Order 231 PP Truck that came around me in
1997 and seemed to begin a lot of this transdimensional mess for me,
but yes, it sure looks as if the doppelganger game show host was
indeed telling it straight up and right on the big money curve in
that wild ass interaction, huh folks, I'll say no more other than a
nice friendly greeting for Mister Macy, with this little word that
his pals all know so well, like W----O----W!!!!
K.J.
McAllister, PP, not you Paul Pedersen, yeah, right; give me a break
willya Margie 1985 Leo for the sake of the great lovely
GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
asked the great GAGA CAT why dirt bag Mikey decided not to be my
friend any longer which is just fine by me, as I am not his personal
fucking bank. The answer given me was PCN-231. Jesus cousin and daut,
we have the Prize Patrol, we have electricity, we have the HAMMONTON
SKATING RINK, and Lex Loo-Thor couldn't put it any better in 50
superman movies of the late seventies; ''what else can anyone
ask''????????? Forget about common and uncommon trustworthy
elevators, or airplanes, at least we still have the Air Traffic
Controllers watching out so we don't all end up crashing into each
other, Huh President Reagan, the late and great??????? WEEEEEEEEE.
When the nabes went on that recent three week roll again before
Debbie calmed them down, AGAIN; I asked GAGA KITTY YYYYYYY that, and
was given freaking PCN-945, and WOW again RHM.
Oh
folks, this is a nightmare that none of you are one percent clued
into about, and this is an understatement. So what does 945 represent
for me, to some degree, after-all, I only have a few things worked
out, I'm not Goddess Almighty and I haven't been up on that
observation deck since I was there with her career associate,
Madonna, as a teen ager; back late in 1972, along with my 100 MPH
Johnny Faster joker, now FCC Chairman, Bob McDowell, and so many
other wonderful wise but human peeps, like Bruce the great Monopoly
cheater. I'm still talking back to TV sets today, Theresa Pennock,
YO, AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!! Don't hit me please, not with those lovely
tree trunk arm muscles of yours. I am not going to print all the shit
that matches the numbers, real loyals out here and real enemies
alike, all know them anyway, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! But I am going
to discuss a brief condensed portion of the EsteLauder nightmares I
had in 1984 and in 1985, for no reason, where I was the Regional
Manager for sales in much of the northeastern United States, in some
transdimensional universe in the great hyperspace. I may be
misspelling the name of this perfume, but these nightmares were very
intense, just like the school in Egg Harbor City, and I, know my
rotten fucking cousin knows all the reasons for all of this, and I,
hate his miserable rotten maggot
guts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One of the dam match-list
items for PCN-945 however, good folks out here, is TRANSDIMENSIONAL
TRUNK DEVICE, and let us never leave out my wonderful seventh great
grand daddy, governor of Connecticut, and founding father and signer
of the Declaration of independence, Mister Honorable Samuel
Huntington, and the reason to this day our government is nicknamed,
UNCLE-SAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Of course my
old pal and classmate back in the fifth grade at James Stoy
Elementary as well as in seventh and eighth grade at Haddon Township
High school, GUY HERMAM, has the PCN of 945, AHA-AHA! But we can
scratch the surface with a few more too good peeps, such as
TREADMILL, HAIR
ALBUM, MARK MINOR, and DREAMED
IN JUNE NINETEEN EIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh sure and shore,
I am just a big ass cooky fucking nut times sea-squared, to make all
of us laugh, huh AT&T, don't act all dumb and innocent with me,
you were there in 1983 when all this hellish fucking shit was all
going down, YO!!!!!!!
Poor
Regis, I'm sorry you got all caught up in the middle of this shit,
old buddy. I told you, you try and be nice to this wild family from
the stars that I've just come to nickname the KEN, and you pay for
it. Now Paula thinks you've threatened her, Reg, after you were nice
enough to come on her bloody show down there at that bloody shoe
shore right there at EX-MAYOR LEVY'S LIFEGUARD BAYWATCH TOWER!!!
Oh
the gods, Ed Lynch, was this blogging a fucking great ass mistake or
what. Those crumbs in the Atlantic County, New Jersey, Prosecutor's
Office are not in any hurry to give me back my legally bought and
paid for CD Website disc, the MORIANITY-FOUNDATION. SHEEEEEEEIT I
guess you are right all along Dawny Girl with that powerful saying of
yours, WOW, ''IT IS WHAT IT IS''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JANE
CUNT LAPPING SLEASEWEEDSDISEASE JUST BIT MY ASSHOLE AT A PERFECT
TIME, ROOM NUMBER TRINIDAD HOTEL-1967, CUZZ SANDRA MASON AND MOMMY
AUNT, GERALDINE SNOW MASON THE LATE AND GREAT, GOOD OLD 3:23, BY
STRIKING ME ON PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN ON MY WORD DOCUMENT FUCKING ASS
SHEET NUMBER, YOU DAM ASS WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot win for all
the dam ass love in the frikkin' whorehouse, huh, Derrijo Exxon, my
old 1980 buddy on the great Blackwood-Clementon Road, and not
'road-trips', in season, or shooting them all out of and post season,
huh lovely great United States frikkin Copyright Office Examiners of
1988 AD???????????? Another big
ass W---O--W.
Let
me god dam compensate (cunt-phlegm rape) please good peeps,
WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 55555555555555555555
PLUS 555555555 TIMES 55555555555, DIVIDED BY 555555555, IS
EQUAL TO, WHO GIVES A SHIT, I JUST WANT TO STARE AT THESE NICE
WONDERFUL FRIKKIN FIVES, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Besides
printing the word for word story of my late mother, from late in
the year of 1976, that she wrote in 1977; there are basically ten
things give or take, that I really wish to discuss, many already
topics opened up on previous Morianity. But this blog will contain
none of that. Nor will it talk about exploratronics and related
topics. Also it will be short. If a Wordpress blog link has brought
you here, and you're wondering why this is not up there nor is the
chapter before this one, they will be eventually posted up to there,
when the time is right. Trust me, I know what I am doing. I have
clean hands, Judy, and David, at both of your requests. Still, I know
if I followed the junk a bit more that Bob Patterson Cheatley used to
call and classify, ''the modern culture'', I feel I would know what
that shit in early twenty-eleven with David and the washing of my
hands was all about, and I fully understand what Judge Judy refers
to, and it makes perfect sense. One of the reasons I think that she
is so cool is that she speaks her mind and tells her entire fan base
that all this modern social networking junk is for the birds,
literally. Chirp on that one folks. I mean we had the telegraph
sixteen full decades ago young folks out here, so why do you want to
get onto a phone and play da dee da da da dee dee da da dee dee dee
dee da dee da da da de da da dee dee da? It makes no sense to Judy,
and it makes no sense to this poor old broken down buttwipe either,
me. Hay maybe we're missing something, JJ, but wouldn't you give half
a foot of stature up to know the answer? I know I would. Oh well, in
the interests of pursuing the elusive item called 'truth', at least
we strive to locate it, and in our own ways, appear to almost worship
it, as we tend to see, IMHO, that without this seemingly small at
times commodity, all would topple quickly to the ground. If things
cannot be trusted, who would ride an elevator let alone an airplane?
What would any of us do if we had extra money for investment
purposes? If some modicum of reality cannot be fixed and constant,
why are we all here, not in a philosophical sense, I mean if this is
what our culture is seemingly devolving into, then why not just lay
down on the train tracks and let old Iron-Cars come roaring along to
free of us of this cosmic misery of perpetual unknowns and
uncertainties? How would you say it about now, Dad and Dawny?
SHEEEEEEIT!
Balance
is so important, and peeps never even seem to give it a thought for
the most part. Maybe they balance a checkbook or themselves on a
scale, and that just about sums up their personal relationship with
balance. Don't you believe it folks, not for one dam second there;
Star Trek Movie Admiral Spockkirkwhales.
We
all are jigging ever so madly on the head of a pin. If you could
perceive the reality of this, you'd freak out every bit as fast as if
you were eating your dinner and suddenly developed the eyesight of
Superman, seeing germs and bacteria crawling all over your food.
Things are very real that you are not aware of my peeps, and you just
go on denying both this fact, and all the rest of morianity, all you
wish to, sawn you, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
James
Redfield opened powerful doors, that 99.9999% of all of you totally
have forgotten about, replacing his great wisdom with your material
desires of things and power and all manner of carnal garbage and
filth that will pass away and turn to pure stardust before any one of
you can say jack squat cubed about a hundred million times. Think
that's funny huh? Then run up a lot of stairs and laugh at that also,
Matches McGuire HDCEHCNJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The freaking
bullshit that I have seen and witnessed, just since I began this wild
search to find Sarah Krassle in the middle freaking nineties, leaves
me far beyond speechless, and what all sprang out of it, makes words
like inconceivable and unfathomable not even start to describe my
attempts to tell it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The great Mister
Redfield stands in a class of a very few enlightened folks of this
so-called new age. The media normally intentionally gets things about
as screwed up as they possibly do it, as if they were getting a bonus
check for how off base they can cleverly spin the realities all
around us. Hay they're great at reporting the basic news items, I
never said they were not, nor am I about to. I said they are real
good weavers and spinners, and you all don't know a tenth of the
tricks of the trade, and yes, the media themselves are A PART OF THE
EW, think about it, how can they NOT BE for crissake, YO? There are
tricks and secrets and all kinds of neat little shitty things that
they all do on an ever ongoing basis, and it goes right over the
heads of all of the so many uncountable sheeple everywhere, and this
does deserve one great big MACY-WOW, so fine, W---O---W!!!
Let
me end with this, as this is not going to be a long blog with photos
and other paste-ins. I was out taking care of some business
yesterday. I was in the same basic area and around the same potential
large crowd of random folks. Yet one day I am literally drowning in
females that are five feet ten inches in height for an average, with
some as tall as six feet three or so, and few my size or less, such
as a couple days back; but on this day, not one was really basically
any taller than me, and most were a few inches shorter. Do I believe
anything can happen and this can be just a silly bunch of nothingness
to be totally ignored as cosmically important. Well if you are truly
asking me this question, then here is my answer. No, I do not believe
that for a second. Whatever is causing these things, if gone
endlessly ignored, never explored and eventually figured out; you may
say, big deal, what's the beef? Well, here's the beef. There are no
aliens in flying saucers that plan to take this world over. This
world was taken over before it even got started, and not by little or
big grays or greens or whatever, but by all the things that Morianity
has been screaming and hollering about for nearly eight solid years
now. Don't believe me, huh? Fine, but either you'll see someday, or
your descendants will, and that I can promise you all with a full
open heart. I have no plans for glory or motives of power. I am not
here to seek material gain. I have told you all a true story for 8
years, and given names of those one way or the other, connected into
al of this, whether they may know it or not, consciously. Now, as
the young folks put it so well, I suppose;
''SAWN-U-BRO''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Have
a very happy and great day, lads, lassies, Labbers, and Lab-Dogs,
(L-4). BYE-BYE!!!!!!!!
LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING
MORIANITY PART 6,
SO
PLEASE ENJOY NOW, READING CHAPTER
NUMBER 19!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
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About me
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Male
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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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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.
Note:
The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your
county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the
alert and the map processing.
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Advisory
Colors Key |
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Winter
Storm Watch |
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Flood
Warning |
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Non-Precipitation
Advisory |
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Flood
Statement |
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Now
for a little bit about the powerful ''DREAMING-INTERACTION of last
night that woke me up somewhere around a couple hours shy of
daybreak. W—O—W!!
This
was quite incredibly major. I had to stop due to a sudden major shit
attack, it now is eight minutes before one this Saturday freaking
afternoon, let me move on and tell you this powerful nocturnal
experience. You might say this is almost a
WOW-SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was in three sections that my
waking world memory can contain and bring back so that I can tell it
now on this blog. It started in a large apartment parking lot
somewhere that could have been basically about anywhere in the
Continental United States; based on my very best attempt to remember
all surrounding area scenery, building construction of garden type
apartments, and the automobiles parked in the surrounding areas and
lots, on nearby streets. The first characters in this hyperspace
parallel universe scene, were not known by me; Mizz Nancy Carolyn
Stoddard Barrett. As I told you, on that great TV show of the
sixties, she was explaining to the constructed human Frankenstein
type sowed together man named ADAM, named for being the first of his
new breed quite naturally; that in dreams, we meet people we know as
well as people we don't know, and she said this to him in a way that
you could not mistake for her being of the opinion, that this
contained some form of an unusual weirdness. When you ponder on it
for a while, you see however, waking life as well as dream life, has
exactly the same thing, we run into folks that we DO KNOW, and folks
that we DON'T KNOW, just the same, and why not, one parallel
universe, if fairly localized and not super different from what we
have become accustomed to, is like another one, at least in that
regard of running into other folks. Yet I'll admit that when I first
heard this on the show on television, my initial thoughts and
reactions to it were, and I suppose the writers of the show intended
for this to happen with the viewers; but yes, at first glance at this
situation, I am going, ''Wow, yeah, you do run into both these type
of peeps in dreams'', never even making the connection that,
DUH-Hyundai car commercials; the very same thing goes on in waking
world life too. So getting back to my particular hyperspace travels
of last night, that began as a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, since I was merely
another tired person of this universe, falling asleep after an
exhausting not all that pleasant day, not another 'BOTBAR',
but dam dam dam near; and I no sooner hit the pillow, and I was
asleep for a very long time. IE, I wasn't attempting to do any
''sleep-work''. However, once things got going, that altered to some
mild dream-control where indeed you could have classified me as a
TYPE-1-LATER-3-Exploratron,
then returning back to TYPE-1. Good riddance Miss Jane Witchbitch
sleazediseaseweeds; I see it is 8 past 1, and I am covering my
computer fucking screen now with my blocker. To be fully protected, I
will need to make myself a second screen blocker, so I can attach it
to both of my lower sides, to avoid both the clock as well as the
blog page deal, would they both come at me at once, and with me, all
things are possible, bad things that is, so I am surely not trying to
rip off god's little saying!!!!!!!!!!!! So there I am, standing alone
in a large garden apartment parking lot setting with many buildings
of both 2 and 3 story constructions, a rare occurrence I will add, as
normally it is one or the other going up as high as four stories, but
never varying. Anywho, I began to see near one unit where I came to
realize quite quickly that I was living at, but not lucid to being in
a dreaming consciousness yet; three or four of the family that you
hear me refer to as TAWF-70 or just, ''THAT-FAMILY'', as this is
exactly how they telepathically told me their name or title, back in
those early July of 1970 'dreams' at the home of child molester,
Thomas J. Reale, on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, next to
the vacant lot also owned by him, the boyfriend of lovely and
luscious back then, Victoria Callio, who just adored my 'gorgeous
hair' so much. Now today, and since the late nineties, when my
intense search to find SARAH KRASSLE all began after 1994 had ended;
guess what property is there right next to the home where I stayed in
and was molested in, on that vacant lot; but the Ventnor Water Works,
and this is a part of the great and mighty Sarah Callio employed,
Atlantic City Municipal Utilities Authority, all along, this was all
there, and part of this entire thing that I knew all along was out to
get me and told Dave Smith my special ed teacher, and I quote,
''There's a farm outside of Haddonfield, where people are all in a
lifelong conspiracy to get me and destroy me''. Sounds pretty nuts
for a 15 year old kid to make this statement, well, you are correct,
and they treated me as nuts, too, Ward Cleaver, and you better bet on
it, busted out car windows and baseball games and ONES, all
intricately and very cleverly, part of this cosmic deal, all
along!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But getting back to this 'wild
dream'
as you all would insist on calling it, until eventually Morianity can
kick in, and this Millennium-3 can then begin to work its real magic
hopefully someday, through this project, started by poor old pathetic
and pitiful Mountainpen. There I was standing alone and it was around
noon day. Just what day, I have no clue; other than it was around the
present time; and this I know because of things that were said
throughout all of this; that won't all get discussed, in order to
save time, and make all of us a lot happier. These TAWF members
included Leticia Tilley, Dawn-Marie King, Joe King, Big 'Lisa' Social
Worker Trouble Maker Dyfis, Wrestler Slow Robbie, John King, Robert
McGuire, Sarah Callio Martino-Martinez, and then along with these
family members, were my ex-New Jersey social Worker Miss Jennifer
Washburn, along with her associate Miss Laura Natalie, and also Miss
Tiffany whose last name was never known to me, and then believe it or
not, Twinbay was there with them as well, and began addressing me and
saying, ''There he is, the glass half empty kind of guy in the
flesh'', over and over again. I was very upset and quite extremely
agitated at this point to say the very least, good Morians. Then to
keep Dark Shadows actress Nancy Barrett happy, came some other folks
also filing out of this one unit, that I did not know at all, not
over here in this universe where my body is asleep and dreaming from.
This is where I started to get lucid and said to myself, I am now
going to control my doppelganger-me, and first, remember these peeps
who over there, I most likely did know. Well, sure enough, I began
seeing this with the memory of my other-me doppelganger; and sure
enough in no time at all, and I still only knew 4 of these other 7
folks, so perhaps the other three were just friends of those others
who I knew in this large crowd that had now all gathered outside the
unit along a type of a boardwalk where after the 12 units all exited
the building, both front and rear, these boardwalks were crossings
over streams that were below maybe about forty inches or so, and were
tiny, maybe two feet wide and deep, at most, with lovely bright
flowers and sunflowers growing all along the banks. Even the
boardwalk crossing had areas on both sides with boxed in areas for
potted green plants, and were filled with philodendron and
rhododendron and many spider plants and cactus and all types of
various other house plants. Thank you Spell checker for this time,
assisting this piss-poor speller, with the names of those two
gorgeous houseplants that do grow in the wild as well upon occasion.
There was a large Kroton Plant about 10 feet tall at the end of the
walkway which extended about 25 feet or so until reaching the parking
area and sidewalks along its perimeter. I spoke too soon with the
complementing for the Spell Checker, as the other plant name is
misspelled, and it refused to help me, it is spelled as it sounds,
you all deal with it, I have a dream to tell you about for right now,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The man who hosts the great game show,
''The Price Is Right'', and took over from where the original Bob
Barker used to host it, Mister Drew Carey, suddenly drove up in a
lovely bright colored blue and tan Lincoln, their smallest model. It
was a four door vehicle, and he parked it right across from where we
all were standing on the opposite side of this large garden apartment
area parking lot. A road was beyond this other side of the lot, and
no apartments were there, and we were in the front section that went
back a long ways into a vast amount of property. A few cars passed by
from time to time and it was not a residential street, but a normal
small highway of four lanes, two lanes for each direction. After Drew
exited his vehicle, he seemed to know this other-me doppelganger
quite well. The peeps I was with all said hi to him and were asking
if they could get special passes to his show, and he just waved them
on. But he signaled for me to come over to his car and we walked up
to the main road where he had just driven in from, and then kept
walking and talking and he wanted to know if I had been able to get
my stuff back that was stolen. I was not sure how to handle this; and
eventually I learned that this other me, had also been kidnapped; but
not by Dawn and Ann King; under orders of Paula King, and possibly
even my kid, but rather, my Cousin Donald. Drew seemed to know about
hyperspace, and eventually I remembered that this other me-self had
told him the entire story. In this parallel universe, being a Carey,
he too was part of the Carey family, and was a second cousin through
a marriage of one of my kid's siblings, she has the same there as
over here, one brother and one sister, still I'll always believe
'half's' until it is proved to me differently with trustworthy DNA
tests. He began telling me that he wanted me to come and stay with
him and out of harms way, and that he thinks a plan is being hatched
by the entire family to hurt me, and maybe even worse. He had no
proof, but he did say that he asked a good friend of his to be sort
of an inside man, and nose around; similar to how I asked the Heroes
Group guitar player, back in 1983, Peter Smith; to nose around the
recording industry for me, concerning my problems with them; and see
what he could find out, which never fucking panned out, as many know
from earlier blogs, where I share this other of so many real-life
nightmares of mine. But over here, and without my prompting him to do
anything, he sent a friend around the peeps and found out that they
were going to totally wipe me off this Earth once and for all as I
knew way too much about them for my own good. Then he blew me away
and said that some of them are what I have been calling and telling
him about, EXPLORATRONS, and they have invaded another you in
hyperspace, where I also did a comedy show before doing ''The Price
Is right''. He had to be talking about here, as indeed he did.
Obviously there, he did not. Before doing the game show, he had a
talk show, as does Oprah, only they had their own shows, and then
they had a show that they co-hosted together. This never happened
here, and after I had learned all this, I proceeded to let him know
that I was now a T-3-E from there, and he said, ''I know that Mark'',
I too am a T-3-E, both there and here, and have been carefully
watching over you. But now it is time for you to get far away, and he
offered to let me move into a wing of his large home out in
California, in LA. He went onto tell me that MC plans to kill me in a
very covert way, just as she used her distant cousin Dawn, and when
it did not work out where I died in that FBI owned home in Hammonton,
New Jersey; she fixed it so she would die of some horrible cancer
very quickly. This indeed is what happened over here where I am
typing this blog. On top of that, Ann told me it makes no sense at
all how the entire medical community all just let her die, and never
even tried to help her, or treat her; and she told me a year and a
half ago or so, that she is planning to sue the entire hospital in
Atlantic City. Still, getting back to this wild hyperspace adventure
with Drew Carey; the first being at the apartment before he came
along, the second being our walk and talk, and now here is how it
ended up, and be braced folks. This will knock you right off your
chairs, so DON'T BE STANDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We got into his car and he began driving, and told me we are heading
to his place, and then he is going to show me how we are going to
fight TAWF before it is too late, but first; they have something of
mine that we need to get back. He asked me if I remember how one day
at the trailer park in Mullica outside Hammonton, and before I met Ed
or the family, my large screen TV suddenly began screwing up, and the
speakers insisted on playing, even when muted out; and I said I
remember it all perfectly well. This did happen, just as in this
dream discussion. He told me that when you were out, your daughter's
friend, BOO, placed something into your television set that allows
them to hear everything you say and see everything you do in your
residence there; even if your TV set is not on. I then asked him if
he knew why Mariah was so hell bent on everything, especially in lieu
of her not seemingly caring about what has been going on all this
time, and he said that was back then; and she was very hellbent, and
on a lot of things that need not be talked about right now. Then I
blurted out, ''My god, Ann has my TV and I am living in Florida
now''. I remembered this was the parallel universe me after finishing
saying that to him, and he smiled, and reminded me that he knows all
this, and is going to find a way to get the TV, and then take it to
some people that will then force her to come clean, and tell why she
and BOO did this, and just what they want with me, all these years. I
told him it has to do with her playing LAB TECHNICIAN, and my throat
condition; and he started laughing quite raucously. When he stopped,
I asked him to let me in on what was so funny. He then pulled into a
Denny's Restaurant and told me we are about 30 miles from his home,
and he wanted to go in and eat lunch; and to come in with him. I
followed him in. After we were seated and eating, without my needing
to repeat anything; he indeed began to tell me why he suddenly
laughed. He said, ''I know the whole story Mark. You go back to
Sahasra Dal Kanwal with her; it's like you and her for eternity.
There's no escape for you; just like she told you, in her great hit
record, back in 1997''. All of a sudden a noise came from nowhere and
got louder and louder and louder. I turned to look out the window
while Drew was still just munching away on his sandwich, and a huge
motorcycle came crashing through the restaurant window, killing poor
Drew, and I was bleeding and bleeding and getting icy cold. I must
have died, as all of a sudden, it was around 4:45 in the morning
today, here, back in my waking world. I told you, I cannot die.
Whether it happens over here, or over in other parallels; I just keep
moving on as though nothing had happened. I first noticed this and
told my two pals, Joe and Andy, this nightmare; at the Haddonwood
Swim & Health Club, back somewhere in late 1995 and into the year
of 1996. This was some real powerful mother fucking shit, MY LOYAL
MORIANS, and all other categories out there as well, YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER
very
soon good folks, to a new way of thinking, if not the you in the
right now part of the STM, then the you-later part, perhaps not even
in your current-you ''lifetime'', but it is always you, and my old
buddy George the General knew this truth so well, I love this dude,
dogs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEIT, Dawn Marie King and Dad.
So
many powerful peeps, Mister Scott Ransom so passionately desire to
totally 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, of transdimensional Dick
Chaney's. 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. There's another fellow who can never cop to it openly
with his peeps, yet know I am totally for real, he has a very cool
youtube page folks that I don't mind at all plugging for him. Justy
search-box him on YT, ''Deezy Slim''. WHAAAAAAAA!
“Y
SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”
BECAUSE
IT SUCKS!
ANY
OTHER STUPID QUESTIONS, EDDIE HIMACANE LYNCH, OLD PAL??????????
W---O---L---F*****W---O---L---F*****W---O---L---F!
Folks,
let me tell you what is Derrijo Exxon HA—penning, in or not in
1983!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW,
RHM!
Hyperspace
is a truly unknown element!!!!!
I
am not inferring that the men and women of science do not know about
it, but their level of understanding is unfortunately for me most of
all, kindergarten. If they knew and believed what I know and believe,
and would run some of the necessary tests that would indeed totally
verify and prove beyond a doubt, that
stuff Morianity tells about it, is all so dam real and true,
then they could aid me and assist me; in fighting the MONSTERS OF THE
ESS. They are not all bad, nothing ever is all good, all bad, or all
anything. This cosmos is always some type of a perfectly balanced
reality, whatever this reality really is, but the one thing we all
can agree on, and that is, BALANCE
BEING OF ABSOLUTE IMPORTANCE,
is not a questionable item, not ever.
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Http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
This address link takes you to my early blogs, AHA-AHA!!!!!
Florida
Attorney
General
Pam
Bondi
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Provide
your email address below to receive the Attorney General's Weekly
Briefing featuring the latest news and updates on top issues.
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
55555555555
HELP ME PEE, YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, and now it is OCTOBER 9.
|
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.
THIS
IS MORIANITY PART SIX, GOOD KIND FOLKS!!!
I
HOPE YOU
ENJOYED READING THIS
CHAPTER
NUMBER
19. 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!!!!!
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!!!!!!!!!!
WHERE
ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU, DIANA ARTEEMIS???
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Only
the opening title words are real.
NOTHING
IS REAL, FOLKS, NOTHING IS WHAT IS REAL. LET'S GET THIS UNREAL
GOVERNMENT UP AND RUNNING AGAIN, YO, THIS IS TOTALLY REDICLOUS,
WASH-DOCK-13-600-PEEPS.
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Life
is full of canonized miracles, Pope, Sir, for me, aniwho. Let me tell
you what I mean, and this is a tiny smattering of all that I could
tell, but then, we all know that one real well.
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