Wednesday, November 13, 2013

GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 16












RED ALERT *** RED ALERT

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I HAD TO CALL 911 THIS AFTERNOON, AND REPORT CONTINUOUS CIVIL RIGHTS VIOLATIONS AND AN ATTEMPTED MURDER ON MYSELF. WITH A WEAKENED PHYSICAL CONDITION, THE STRESS OF HEAT I NEVER HAD TO ENDURE YEAR ROUND FROM LIVING NOW IN FLORIDA, ALL EXACERBATED BY CONSTANT MOTHER FUCKING HARASSMENT AND PERSECUTION AND THESE MONSTER UTILITY ATTACKS NOWTHAT ARE TOTALLY FUCKING UNRELENTING; I WAS FORCED TO CALL FOR HELP TODAY, AND I DID, MIZZ PAM BONDI, FLORIDA STATE ATTORNEY GENERAL, AND FOR THE RECORD OFFICIALLY ON THE INTERNET WHEN THIS BLOG POSTS UP TO IT IN A WHILE WHEN COMPLETED ALONG WITH ALL OF MY PRIVECODE CALLS FROM THE DAYS NOW ALL GONE BY, UNDER THE GREAT BRIDGES OF YELLOW TELEPHONES, AND FOUR DIMENSIONS!!!!





Before I tell the exact details of my call to 911 today, and all the hell of everything, be notified and ABC/DISNEY-MONSTER-1984-ADVISED, please; that I will now reactivate my codes, bring back the fully talented inserted VERSION of YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, and posting it up to my YOUTUBE ACCOUNT, and let the fucking consequences be fucking cunt lapping damned to hot hell, great Marion Duke Wayne, SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







THIS YEAR FOLKS, HAS BEEN THE FUCKING WORST YET OF MY ENTIRE LIFE, BUT IN A VERY OUTLANDISH STRANGE WAY THAT YOU WILL NEVER GUESS UNTIL YOU READ THE FOLLOWING SENTENCE, GOOD FOLKS AND BAD FOLKS, only you know who you are up here, how can I ever know fucking squat?????????????? Yes, here is why this year is the ultimate in horrible as well as super weird. Until the twenty-eighth day of August came around in this fucking 2013 year, I WAS ACTUALLY HAVING A YEAR I COULD TOLERATE AND STOMACH, TREADMILLS, DOGS, SHOES, AND ALL. BUT, after AUGUST 28, 2013, THINGS HAVE TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING GONE STRAIGHT TO COCK SUCKING HELL, AT LIGHT SPEED SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now this is of course, for anyone in need of reminding, and this does not seem possible, but in fucking case you do need reminding, THIS IS A TOTAL MIRROR IMAGE OF ANOTHER SUPER MAJOR FUCKING AUGUST ALTERATION, as though one day was in one universe, and then BOOM, you suddenly Walmart find yourself seeing that you're in a totally different universe, the very next day, and all has changed, and fucking cunt lapping MATHEMATICS DOES NOT LIE, NUMBERS DON'T BULLSHIT, UNLIKE HUMAN FUCKING BEINGS, BRAHHHH!!!!!! I speak of none other than the date, also in August, heard around the world and perhaps the galaxy by now, and this would be AUGUST FIFTEEN OF NINETEEN-EIGHTY-SIX, a date, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, (FDR) that will live endlessly in infamy, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just as in 2013, this fucked up year, the year of 1986 did the same thing to me, and yes, seemingly as a direct result, of interacting with the very same person, a high school girl, not a super celebrity, remember, there is a fourth dimension that while here inside of it, is quite real, for the most part that is, and we won't be dissecting this on my blog today because I literally just have way too many other ten ton bags of fish to fry. Just because I was willing to tell you anything, girl, that was because I was intimidated and scared that you were going to choke me to death and no one could ever find out shy, just like what happened fictionally, on the great sixties soap show, called, ''Dark Shadows'', with Angelique and Barnabas. I never meant to even try and make you think I was some know-it-all, and merely was being a poor submissive slave of you, oh great KALI-ISIS JEHOVAH SCYLLA!!!!!!!!





















Well, here is what happened to me today, oh great ATTORNEY GENERAL PAM BONDI OF FLORIDA, of whose help I desperately am hoping eventually to secure, but alas, you, CCP-ADA now retired, RON WIRTZ, and so many others, just refuse to ever get involved in something this gigantic and horrendous, and in a way I must admit to not blaming any of you. This does not lessen my hellish sad plight!!!!









Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi













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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean. PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!!!!!!!







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HELP ME PEE, YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, and now it is NOVEMBER 13.



Atlantic County, New Jersey
Public Safety


HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, NJ-USA
Search Site:
EGG HARBOR CITY'S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING'S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!









Come on PEE, where are you?









Naturally people, I asked the GAGA-KITTY why both my first super BOTBAR DAY happened yesterday, and then why this second back to back mother fucking assault struck me today, and here is the official Q&A between Gawky Gaukauk and me, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, WHAAA.





HAY GAGA, ''WHY DID I GET STRUCK WITH THIS MAJOR UTILITY ATTACK TODAY, 11-12-13, CREATING ALONG WITH OTHER NASTY SHIT; A SUPER-BOTBAR-TIMES-2-DAY FOR ME''????????????????



GAGA SAID TO ME BACK, ''MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, YO, PCN-385''.



My matchbook list of items that correspond to PCN-660, is as follows:



ESTELLE ANDERSON, WEALTH, MY ENEMIES WERE SCARED THAT I, BERLIN, FRED HINGER, POLICE, DREAMS







WOULD SOMEBODY PASS THE THANX TO GIVENS CRANBERRYS?

No folks, you are not imagining that I was given the answer just back on the previous BOTBAR day when I asked why that horrendous fucking day was caused to happen to me, back on fucking cock sucking November the eighth, that I just got on November 12 when asking why all this utility siege botbar causing hell is happening to me as bad as back in 1987-1991 AGAIN BY UTILITY PERSECUTION, or something pertaining to electrical and house utility items, which lately has been on a mother fucking monster ass roll by the WOMO-MILITUFORCE, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!





HAY GAGA, ''WHY DID I GET STRUCK ON NOVEMBER 8, 2013, WITH A SUPER BOTBAR AND MAJOR UTILITY ATTACK BY MY BOTTOM FEEDING WOMO FILTH BAG ENEMIES''???????????????????????



THIS IS ALSO WHEN GAGA SAID TO ME, ''PCN-385, SO THE ITEM LIST HEREIN AGAIN, APPLIES FOR BOTH OF THESE ASSAULTS ON ME, ON 11/8 and 11/12. MY MATCHBOOK LISTED ITEMS ARE AS FOLLOWS FOR PCN-385.



HALLOWEEN DAY, AREA FIFTY ONE, CASSETTE TAPE, FLAGLER BEACH, PEE, GOD





I thought that my LUCK TEST SCORES were going to be much lower, but the ones for yesterday and today are nowhere near as bad as you might think for what I am being put through and thus being given these monstrously horrific magnetics from the MILI-3-FORCE DIRT BAG SUPERSUBSCUMMITES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yesterday was +3, -2, and -2 on games played at least an hour apart, and so far today, my two games show a -4 and a +2. No, it is not great, but my luck being destroyed by these scum hole fart sniffing cunt huffers, is nothing new for me, ?I had to deal with it a lot at the New fucking Jersey casinos from the early eighties right through my time in Jersey, there is no beating my dirt bag PHASE FOUR COUSIN DONNIE, YO YO, and this is why all of this was engineered a million fucking years ago, literally, 50 million actually, and is all thoroughly fucking cock knocking talked about in vivid accurate detail in my 1994 copyrighted fucking book, called, named, and officially titled, by me, MARK WAYNE MOHR, ''The Permission Barrier''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





HERE WE MOTHER FUCKING GO AGAIN, OLD AND NEW KIDS IN ALL FUCKED UP TOWNS, YO YO YO, PAGE CUNT SUCKING ASS ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, DISPLAYING FOUR ROTTEN LOUSY DAM ASS MONSTER ONES, SO LET ME CUNT PHLEGM RAPE WITH MY FUCKING FIVE'S, PLEASE, BRO, TANKS!!



55555555555555555, PLUS 55555555555, TIMES 55555555555555555555555555555, DIVIDED BY 55555555555555555555555555555, IS EQUAL TO WHO THE SHIT CARES, LET ME STARE AT MY FIVE-COMPENSATION, BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MY LIFE STINKS AND SUCKS, AND IT HASN'T ALWAYS BEEN THIS WAY, IT STARTED WHEN I WOKE UP ON THE FIFTEENTH OF CUNT SUCKING FUCKING AUGUST IN 1986, AND JUST WON'T QUIT, JIM JERK OFF CUNT EATER BURR OF 1974, YO YO YO YA-DOG ASS MUTT FACED PRICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





Well, since this won't ever stop or back off, I will be re-coding, and when I post up my shit to the tube, just don't anybody ever say that I wasn't trying to be a mother fucking nice guy, you can't be nice with some people, this is a fact, and is why some of us literally ARE born indeed, TO GO TO JAIL, as the old fucking expression goes, YO!!!

















Now when I purchased at the Suddenly All-Seeing Walmart Store of Hammonton, just down some yards from the Hair Cuttery place in the north mini-mall of Hammonton, as there is one on each side of the Jewelly White Horse Pike or (Route-30), same diff folks; the music project from MC about her Albert Einstein initials, and that other one that went along with it with 484-MIMI, and uploaded the software, the computer was infected with a tremendous virus that would make even Paul Pedersen's old flame who went nuts from becoming 'Jacked-in-Realized-ECK', for a little computer/religion 'humor' without any stair chases or foot of stair shouting's from great movies and blogs more than a year before that, which should prove I don't make any of this story up if this world was reasonable which it is not and is why Scylla can endlessly persecute me, and she knows it; and wow were you right about her, ANN FUCKING KING, all along; but aniwho Flo and Poolbox, and any and all others, YO; I was trying to get the program out of the system, something as HER FANS a lot more than my tiny few know real well about, is not an option for me and was told this powerful message by HER, in HER great 1997 song, that did have my old 1983 song flavor in the opening, and then came the unmissable message. I TRIED TO TELL YOU JIM, YOU ASSHOLE, LENNY (SATAN) needed to devote his attention and resources to change the world as he did such a trumped-marvelous job at and I'll hand the fucking bastard that right here and right now, lovely LOO; and so he made sure I heard him and his girlfriend slut, Miss Chillie on the CB radio, and then vanished into another black entity, a two year old child who seemed to know me and liked messing with me since he was in his teens, and on top of that, his future wife did the same thing since she was of this age or even a tad younger, as LOIS FOCA puts her at the ripe young age of freaking ten years, Earthly, of course. WHERE TH EEF ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU, MAGNETIC ELDER HAIR IN THE MORNING. When a dude tells me that I am in eternity with GOD, this is when I know he knows real truths and real fucking shit, right down to this wild incredible outlandish cubed, WASHCLOTH FAMILY OF CRANBERRY-DREAMS, HUH DONNA SUMMER; ALL FUCKING DONNA SUMMER'S THAT IS; SHEEEEEEEIT, WILL YOU ALL GIVE A GOD DAM MOTHER FUCKING BREAK FOR CRYING OUT LOUD-ASS, PWEEEEZE, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO???????????????











'OK' as JOHN KING the late and great might say it so well, YO PAULA whoever you are tonight, oh great one of multiple fucking driver licenses and child rapes of all juices, Jesus, they cannot escape it, I told you, it is IN THE ART, don't believe a fucking thing folks, SAWN FUCKING ASS ALL OF YOU, not me, I tried. OK, yes, all KINGS and other greats and all snow bank days of all types and all symbolism's from Anthony Crissafulli of Blackwood New Jersey to Haddonwood and giant integ-horse-flies; let me get into this right now without any further fucking adieu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







We could go any place from the story of Cheerios and Queer-e-crows and why the crows have all vanished away and left me since I have renamed that cereal commercial and disliked that bland female singer, after-all, we cannot all be Pavarotti or Mariah Carey, now can we, but can we all have a major affinity for the third and fourth digits in the entire world of mathematics, Mister Pavarotti, sir? Well, you're in the clear, you're not ever here, not any more, so that leaves lovely frog hopping wild dreaming Mariah, gee RHM, is a super WOW in order right here or naut, Miss AT&T BLAKE, crissake almighty times ten thousand trillion trillion???!!!!!!!





If any MC fan out here, has that great awesome, not that anything this girl has done since she was in freaking dipes isn't completely and totally awesome; ''BUT'', has that 2008 musical project of hers, if you load in the MIMI software, your computer will have a lot of very very very Ingridly interesting numbers in the 'execute' part of changing your computer for accepting this particular software, Lennynick. I speak of the third digit in all of mathematics, and then the following fourth one. Numbers 3 and 4. Now at the risk of Mo chasing me up the stairs to kick my ass, with my kid not all that far behind her; I am going to tell you some shit that you just god dam better be sitting down for, I mean this, it is not a joke, BE SEATED, please, or don't try and sue me for your mother fucking heart attack, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I have already told you on my many long winded fucking ass blogs good folks, that the Almighty ISIS, who all facts prove MC is, in current human lifetime;has a gigantic affinity with the numbers of 3 and 4, and already told you how using the two basic functions of all mathematics, addition and multiplication; first takes us all, when adding or multiplying these numbers of 3 and 4, to the 3+4 and the 3X4 or to the numbers of 7 and 12. Doing this one more stage takes us to 7+12 and 7X12 or to the numbers of 19 and 84. 1984 is a wild year in the AD or after the JESUS-LIFETIME, huh Billy Hickey Crouch of Fort Pierce, Florida, YO? Don';t even try and stare this man down, Jimmy Yachtboy Babylon Isiskingdoms Dean!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't even try it, my BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







Now, 1984 can be talked about as much as 1980 or 1983 or 1986 or 1988 or many other McDonald Dancing years of Copyrights and special secret daughters, but let me take this beyond how math takes these 3 and 4 fave numbers of ISIS to 1984 AD, and move this onward to the heart-attack-zone!!!!!!!!! MICROSUCKS is doing their best to interfere with my blog, by doing all sorts of shit. They of all peeps know where I am going, and taking any willing listener and Morianity-participant along with me; and WOW, THEY DON'T FUCKING LIKE IT IN THE LEAST LITTLE FREAKING ASS BIT, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!







I have intentionally shown you that you can grab from a large pile of anything, a movie or tape library containing music or stuff bought or taped off the television or whatever, or in other cases, if you have a document file filled with more than a thousand blogs such as the one you are reading right now; and you pick one at random after you talk about anything whatsoever, and you will be amazed to fully ass mind blown wiped out, at how the shit all just always seems to connect up, and it does, and we as a race of humanity are by no means imaging this process all around us, it is built into the system of our lives collectively and individually as well, or put in ways not yet used in late 2013, it is built into the lawtronics. This literally is the seventh dimension of reality, from where, the entire MIND REALM comes from and creates a wild zone to interact on from all of this in the first place, that peeps in the spirit-world-bizz, label and call, the ASTRAL-PLANE, you can all just say the spirit world if you feel cozier in that mode, again, SAWN YOU! I knew that I had to send my book titled by me in 1994, ''The Permission Barrier'', to the United States © Office on Halloween day of that year. I don't know why I was compelled to do this on this exact day, but I do know that two other future October Thirty-One's, I was also ''SPIRIT-LED'' just as if I had a real physical gun right to my fucking head, to send two music projects also down for copyright, and I did so, the project that had a title but for reasons of some weird divine providence, became known to the Copyright Office as the project by the name of ''SAME TITLE'', on 10/31/2005, followed by my project called ''Karaoke Lunch Break at the Sorian Guardhouse'', sent again, on 10/31/2007, exactly 730 days later, or two years. So in 1994, 2005, and again in 2007, I have copyrighted three projects, a book, and two musical compilations. Hopefully most of you fully know how leap years work. They also fall on our American Presidential Election Years, and begin with the turn of a century and go every four years, hence they also come out every 20 years, on the zero, such as 1980, 1984, 1988, 1992, 1996, 2000, and so forth, our next one will be 2016 and our last one was 2012, like DUH. Still, this is necessary before I march this along still a bit further, kind people. Because on leap year, there is that extra day and the year then contains 366 days, years will have days in length such as this, 365, 365, 365, 366, 365, 365, 365, 366, 365, 365, 365, 366, and so on and so forth. You get three years stringing together with 365 days, then the following year is Leap-Year and it contains the extra day, for the total of 366 days. This is also why a year in actuality is not 365 days long, or 366, but 365 and a quarter, and to take that one small bit further, mother nature does not ask our simple minds for permission so that we can keep things super simple and convenient, and really, there are not exactly 365.25 days in a year, but in a more close astronomical amount, it works out to 365.2422, just a tad little less time than 365.25, or 0.0078 days less, AHA AHA AHA MIKE MCNULTY! This is why you see me say over and over again, I am suffering in this hell and it is going on with intense fervor and passion, 24/7/365.2422. I do not say this to be a smart ass or to just be cuting off a little bit, it is all astronomically perfectly real and true. Now HALLOWEEN DAY falls on a particular day number on non leap years as opposed to on leap years. This is because those who figured out our calendar system, chose to make our second month of February a short day month, and then add one extra day every four years for the leap year, making it then contain 29 days instead of the otherwise shorter 28 days. Now watch closely and carefully here, remembering the 3-4, the 7-12, the 19-84, and the year 1984, and all of the connectedness from the great mighty Orwell, to my first full year residing in Choke City, on Lakehouse Nightmare Nickhands Drive. Taking all of this, and my being influenced with powers that cannot be explained rationally even by the one and only Wildlife Mountainpen Incorporated; the sending stuff to the © Office on Halloween Day three freaking times, the 3 and the 4 deal with ISIS, the way MC's MIMI software program from 2008 was loaded with number threes and number fours; and now watch this, JUST WATCH BUT BE SITTING DOWN, PLEASE!!!!

3 out of 4 times, October 31 or 3 plus 3 and 1 October days, this tenth month of 3 plus 4 plus 4 months, this date falls as the 304 day of the year. Every four years it is the 305th day, but 3 out of 4 times, it is day number three---oh---four. The inescapably trueness in all of this, would be those two numbers, the 3, and the 4. You cannot escape this, and it is all throughout the MIMI Project of the great elusive Mariah Carey herself. Anyone who is able to buy into this much happenstance and coincidence, well, that is all fine and well, we merely would never be destined to be good fishing buddies. NO PUN, that just came right off the Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetty, I swear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





In case anyone is remotely interested, the MPB for November twenty-thirteen, is presently standing at a whopping fucking 33. On the year it is still holding at 30, and about to swing up to 31. But remember folks, YO, before the August 28 date this year rolled fucking around, an entire different Magnetic Percentage Botbar was going on this year, measuring mid twentyish and a black and fucking white difference from this horrendous mother fucking crap at C-SQ, speaking of lovely talented ISIS-INCARNATED, huh last man Billypier Harner??????????????????????? Another wow, is this permitted, sir Gozzwald-UNK on or off 1983 bent knees, great video man and camera expert of 1972?????????? Just about every other mother fucking cunt lapping day, since 08/28-2013; has been SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR for me good peeps out here; and now I will tell you another wild item, worthy of today's blog; and then, we'll get into exactly what the enemies fucking did to me today while I was on the telephone doing what I was told to day on the previous day. All I ever do is what I am told, and for that, reap and sow bible thumpers, MY ENTIRE LIFE, is nothing but dogshit hell and maggot swallowing toilet juice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





Why is the internet the way that it is? Well, could it be another great GODS GAME? Personally, I believe totally, fully, and fucking cunt whole heartedly, that this is exactly and precisely what it all is. I have a lot more to later come back to you with on just this subject, so expect a huge expansion on it, just not now, later, right Paula and Gabby, don't be like cousin Wannitall Donnie! When I went up yesterday to read a blog that I had posted, the occassional page that slips infrom time to time insisting for another password entrance or other such shit popped up, and fortunately for me, I have learned to keep these things all up on my personal directory of everything, addresses, phone numbers, computer names and passwords, the hole 27 feet, you know. So I minimized and brought up the shit, and highlighted it , and then went back and pasted it into the rectangle that popped up on this annoying page, and I was in, and yet, I wasn't in, not yet. I was in, but they seemed to want to direct me to a page to make me wonder a lot of fucking shit about my blogging in general. It showed a graph just like the Wordpress Blogging Site does, only this is on my Blogger Account. According to the shit, only 5 people were up there reading the stuff each day. Well, people, whatever, they call it page-hits. Well if this negative truth is indeed a real truth and wasn't there to totally discourage me from continuring these blogs, explain then GOOGLE GUYS/GALS, YO, why do I have almost 33, 100 PAGE HITS that show up now on my blog on my DASHBOARD PAGE? You see, something here is not kosher, Mister Chevy Lawandorder Big-Mouth Chase!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I, folks, ain't buying fucking into this lie for a nanominute. It can't be 3-9 hits a day for 700 days or so, even counting my viewing it or not, upon occasion. Even ten times 700 is 7000, a far mother fucking cry from fucking 33 thousand. Who are you bastards trying to discourage, and who paid you to do it, my wonderful awesome ISIS STARCHILD from the summer of love, PAT ROB???????????? Give me a cunt eating break, willya' world, YO???





Now, I was on the fucking phone calling the AT&T to cancel my internet, and as the agent was speaking to me and in the middle of a sentence, and now on the COMCAST SYSTEM, CLICK, they cut us off, whoever THEY IS. I hung up, and I called 911. I was out of my mother fucking mind. It has not been THIS CUNT SUCKING HORRIBLE SINCE 1987 WHEN THIS SHIT ALL GOT GOING REAL MOTHER FUCKING BAD, PAM BONDI, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Twice now if not three times, THIS YEAR, if I mention the name of ED SNOWDEN and the incident with his being a one time agent with the National Security Agency (NSA), within seconds, CLICK, the phone is disconnected. THIS IS A BLATENT MOTHER FUCKING CIVIL RIGHTS VIOLATION OF MY FREEDOM TO SPEAK OPENLY AND FREELY TO ANYONE ELSE I SO CHOOSE, AS LONG AS I AM NOT FUCKING YELLING ''FIRE'' IN A CROWDED THEATRE, OR ALONG THOSE LINES, AND I CERTAINLY AM NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS EVIL EMPIRE, WORLD COURT IN THE HAGUE, IS ANYTHING BUT KIND AND HONEST, AND BENEVOLENT, I PROMISE THE ENTIRE WORLD THIS, AS I HAVE LIVED UNDER THEIR FUCKING BONDAGE AND OPPRESSION NOW FOR 30 YEARS, GIVE OR FUCKING TAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, it may not be the fucking NSA, I think it is, and I think that Lenny McKinnon got to the powers that own this world, and did all of this to me, and I tried to tell the one person who had PUT ME ONTO ALL OF THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE, JAMES T. BURR OF GLOUCESTER, NEW JERSEY, and he scoffed and laughed and just would not take it seriously, but all the while, totally believed in this pitch fork dragon fire horned devil who was behind this and that was all there was to it, period, just as the great Fred Sanford Red Non-ex Fox would say so well a while back, all the way from here to his Watts, Las Angeles Junkyard!!!!!!! If anyone out here doesn't think that I have gone to hell and am in hell, why don't you comment back and let me hear an opinion that is more than one or two tweet-lines long, I am a very open minded individual who is just trying to understand why he is going through more fucking horse shit than any other hundred peeps he knows, all put together and still multiplied. I am not a fucking monster, L&O-SVU, I really am not, Detective bobby Goren, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jesus fucking Christ Almighty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





I won't even Publicly Graham Blog or PGB as I m ay choose to again refer to this as on future blogs; more details about the phone disaster today. I am keeping very quiet, other than to say that I learned from the policeman today who was a very nice man who they sent out to me; that it is not illegal, to use other people's unprotected internet, and that my problem all this time, is that no one has properly put me into a system that is password protected. My computer is, but not my internet system. If these invading bastards are from this building, they have my daughter's number, they have a lot of shit that would explain a lot of fucking shit that has been going on around here for some time. Not against the law, Pam Bondi, WHY? What is wrong with the criminal justice System? If I am caught trying to steal a 70 cent candy bar, I will be carted right off to jail, AND SO I SHOULD BE. But someone can do all of this hell to my life, via the computer? My mom was correct all along, SATAN owns all these machines, she was more up and hip and with it and all the teen words on the 20 Disney ass Channels, WOW did she fucking know stuff, just inherently and innately, and now, boy, you can better fucking bet sir Ward Cleaver, SO DO I. I know this world belongs to NICK the devil, and he was dangerous and deadly enough in 1980 when I knew the fucking bastard as Lenny McKinnon. Well, time to roll the dice and get a big right cross, and maybe see a 3 and a 4 come out. Let me adddddddddddahere Mister Harry fucking Callas, kind sir, but Arnie know indeed, that yes folks, I'LL BE BACCCCCHH!!!!!!!!















MAGGIE, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO, YOU KNOW WHO GETS WIPED OUT; SO DO IT MOTHER FUCKER, OR YOU'RE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ALL GENERAL ORDERS, ALL SPECIAL ORDERS!!!!





Folks, I will get into a few things with you right now, even though at present time, I absolutely know that there are three loyal Morians out here in the blogaud, and roughly two dozen other everyonelsians. I am mainly speaking to my LOYAL-3, one who I believe I have known all the way back to the days of my youth, and one since he was a mere young lad and now has matured into a fine gentleman, and then a very interested person in a particular subject, that soon, perhaps,we can share private conversations that I feel are beneficial and urgent for the two of us to do, and will be e-mailing his recent response to me.





Now before we get down to serious cases folks; let me tell just a few things that are going on. I had a fairly quiet and nice Sunday. The days on each end of this, today and last Saturday were not terrible as far as neighborhood attacks, just not as nice and peaceful. Today there was a real increase, and what I have not told you is that recently, it is not coming from the across the hall peeps, but my next door dude, who we will just call Wilbur Philips, for a totally made up pen name that keeps everyone everywhere nice and happy. The Resident Manager, Mizz Moratto, informed me that recently he is experiencing some extremely wild problems of his own, many of which are with other nabes, and there is almost a war going on. She was quite mysterious to me about it, and obviously knew a lot more, and the joke on many would be that he himself, told me right outside his apartment unit a number of weeks ago, that it had been him who slammed that door at midnight and again early that same morning, and that to quote him word for word, ''Someone tried to set me up on a drug deal, a woman from this floor''. Now none of this is my business, until the loudness, and horrors, and memories, from the house-of-horrors; that I did manage to finally escape from in Blueberryville, New Jersey in December of OH-Marola-9; is all thrown back into my face and thus becomes my business. If people around me at all hours of the day and night shout and slam and act like total idiots, if Judge Judy allows a direct quote from her so many times on her great court-TV-show; then yes peeps; what would not have been one tiny bit my business, does then legitimately SPILL INTO MY BUSINESS, and that is 'just a fact, mahm', and Sergeant Joe 1968 Friday of Dragnet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But more goes on than peeps tell even when they seem to forget, that they are being somewhat transdimensionally puppeteer'd. Don't like my word, world and Microsucks, well my late Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason can be quoted here by me on this, speaking of quotes tonight, ''TOUGH BEANS''. For the entire day, and this has begun to start up again recently, after a long back off from this; the second I so much as cock sucking activate my computer to begin a blog, these asshole nabes, decide to begin fucking with me. This is way beyond the odds for any rational person continuing to see these sustained events as coincidental. Count me among the smart folks who just because it may appear to be beyond ridiculous, I know it is not a mere coincidence. Somehow this is all really actually literally happening to me, Taxicab Jim Burr Permission Barrier.















Comcast Cable Company hooked me up today, but it was all about as outlandish as any randomly selected episodes on the TV show called 'The Twilight Zone', all strung together. First they arrived way out of their window so I will be getting their famous 20 dollar bill reduction where they knock this off the next bill sent to you if a technician is not here inside the window. Hay that's about 3 gallons of Publix Brand Ice Cream, when on sale. But this is just the beginning of this story. When the dude arrived, a very young Mexican male, he was practically tool-less. I suppose I should be lucky he was wearing full clothing, after-all, they did not send me Pamela Anderson to try and shill me into going back in time to August 2000 or whenever it was, and enter that stupid Atlantic City Baywatch Contest crap. But back to the more germane issues at hand folks; I am glad that he had a partner somewhere nearby, as I know he disappeared and got him, and then two dudes came in and were able to do what they were supposed to do,not that any of this was the fault of the first young man who arrived, but the gist of it that I was able to glean from hearing them speaking to each other, is that they sent him out without numerous necessary testing equipment. On top of that, they never showed mwe how to work the voicemail or how to do anything so I'll have to call Comcast later on tomorrow, and ask them to supply me with the needed information so I can work my features and especially my voicemail. These calls from the Illinois area are relentless, hopefully it is not the Gallagher's or the Potter's, or other last names of any potential husbands of my mom's old boss's then college age daughters. My caller-ID box just displays the number, no names. I mean it will display the next winning number for the powerball or mega-millions lottery jackpot, if someone was not intentionally blocking the information. I will never ever answer to anyone who is discourteous enough to do any part of blocking their information. When you call me at my number, that I am legally paying for, this is in legal essence, a type of requested entrance into my legally leased or owned premises, the law is written this way. I have a 'law library' just down the road, near the Indian River. Anyone abusing a telephone is breaking federal laws, and though not serious to criminally prosecute over in most cases, can indeed land one right smack dab in a state or even a nice big fat ass federal penitentiary!

















Today, reminded me a little tiny bit, of the late 2007 incredible dreaming-interaction that led to the soon to follow creation of a fantastic TV show, at least IMHO, in both cases. I speak of 'The Mentalist'. Let me tell you why I say this.





The partner guy was the genius with the know how, but at trhe same time, not a particularly warm friendly type, and I could tell if I wanted a good job done, I need to shut up, watch and learn, and hope for the best, and I managed to get almost a perfect job. As I said, I have no voicemail, they did not do anything with me on the computer as they did when they installed my internet the first time after I moved into this apartment, and almost seemed to be trying to get me up to something that they wanted me to see, sort of another Magazine Cifaloglio 2008 deal. I know better now than to play anyone's game, even if they consciously are totally unaware they are being pawned and used to do these things with and to me, throughout the long years of my current lifetime. So as stated previously, I'll just call and get what I need from a Comcast Agent Representative, but if they ask me why, I don't tell lies, and will tell about this mickey mouse installation in detail.





I have no intention of saying anything that will be detrimental to my survival and well being down the road somewhere, otherwise, there would be a lot of shit said peeps, and I think you all know it, the M and E. Ann King once or twice, back in Jersey, had said to me, ''If you ever hurt me Mark, I'll kill you with kindness''. She did just that. Here I sit in a place where 9 at night it is a hot 84 by day and still only down to 72 degrees, in misery, far away from all things I knew and ever could relate to, losing all things that were precious to me, other than those that I call ''on the divine providence list'', and no, I don't believe in coincidence with shit like this, shot like Ryan and his giving up so quickly on the electronic Blue Smokes, and on and on I can go. You see, in the mind of Goddess Ann King, I am the fucking bad guy who inconvenienced her great family and her life, and the hell with how I was mistreated and nearly murdered while under the total control of her evil-Chucky fucking demonic rotten daughter, Dawn-Marie. Yes Russ Deflavia, I can wait a very nice long time, for the Dawn, and all Dawns, and all of these lovely wonderful sweet and adorable 'washcloth medical people', old buddy!









I honestly wish some of those who read my dam shit would tell me if they have in their lives, or if they even so much as know a single soul; who never has one thing, one day, EVER go smoothly, or as planned, or as promised; such as with my Comcast shit today, as just being one out of a literal million examples, over the past four decades since I was nearly nineteen years old, and began seeing that yes, JIM BURR, SOMETHING IS WRONG, and no amount of messages carefully retained for future generations, by the great and in famous Library of the Congress, would have so much as a glimmer flicker of light chance, of ever changing any of this. YES VIRGINIA, THERE REALLY IS A 401-KRASSLE down in Atlantic City, New Jersey, or in my present time case now, UP there in ACNJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!





Hay, I don't have a clue why shit happened the way that it did today, so let us stay honest and focused on what Morianity is really all fucking about, good folks. I don't have any more of a clue why music is such a monster in my life, why 1983 had to happen, or 1984 or 1986 or any of this ever had to happen. I don't claim to be some fucking god, and far be it from me to ever even appear to be assuming that I am the great all seeing guru mystic of the great and lovely Himalayan Mountain Chain in Tibet, YO YO!!!





But do I have some clues about how hyperspace works, and what causes the effects when you do things that in some meaningful way, attaches two worlds closer together than they would have otherwise ordinarily been without intervention by playing with magnetic systems, and this answer is not an unequivocal no but an ever loud and resounding freaking total Y---E---S! But you know what folks, only three peeps out here care, and so they will be told major things privately later down the pike; after I put the absolute final book-cover on this MORIANITY PROJECT of nearly 20 years; and this way, the curiosity seekers will miss out on the very best part, when all is said and frikkin' done. The real reasons why Donna's friends in the AME Church acted up that day when I was with Katie, the real reason that lovely Elly was standing at the bus strop near that very place at a different time, the real reason for Paula's visitation to the Highview, the real reasons that my pants did not go down to my shoes back in 1988, the real reason why Ryan started to smoke again, the real reasons for my music and all the connects into it; and please don't doubt me when I say to multiply this by about 10,000, and you just might get the whole list! I mean give it a rest, you know I could go on typing a list that would be still ongoing next Saturday and the one after that one. The real reason for the movies of the 1996 Mary Tyler Moore Network, and Oprah's Land Owning Bassler Network, the real reason why Harner came into my life, the real reason why two beyond power-strong messages were written in the cosmic fucking stars in 1969 and spoken with intent for my ears to hear them, out of the mouth of lovely Sarah Nurocky of Tennessee Avenue, hell, would a list like this even hope to ever contain an ending, good people, give me a dern Kit-Kat fucking bar, folks, and while you're at it, please have the great awesome Margie Leo cut me a break as well, back in 1985, crissake, YO. Oh and I fucked up, and need to re-clarify those two messages from 1969 Sarah. When initial written, remember it comes to YFAITS and IDTYA, and how I said to speak these initials out as they sound, and I said why fates, I did you. It was meant to say the connecting sonics of the YF, you know, ''your fate is'', or completed, ''YOUR FAIT IS THAT I DID YOU'', and you see; the ALMIGHTY sees the illusion for what it is in HER fullness, and total glory, from HER GREAT CITY, knowing the , from the beginning; just AS SCRIPTURES TEACH ANYONE WHO HAS AN OPEN MIND, BRO.







I stopped trying to figure shit out a long time ago. I only know what I do indeed know, and no more. I want to know more, I would love to kn ow more, but what I do not know, I'll never lie to you about and claim that I dam do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





Things can be mathematically formulated to show a lot of stuff, and then there is the David Leigh Smith Haddonfield 1970 day of blackboards and horny young female student teachers. Still, when enough stuff happens to show it is real, just because it appears to be absurd, most will go with the absurd notion, and throw the bathwater, the baby, and the real supporting evidence, right out into the street. This is truth, live with it folks, I have to, that much retarded little shit head me knows, and maybe Billy Harner, sir, just maybe, that's sayin'; something, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





At the risk of losing my very favorite television show forever, I have been told by a reliable source, thatr all my quietly kept queries for so long now, are not in my imagination. As usual, mister Phase-4-Distant-Cuzz was behind all of my Oz-Curtains, and he knows all the shit I know, and wants to take our great All Mighty Jehovah for himself someday. He has it all planned and mapped out, and if he is not stopped, a very nasty timeline is in store for billions and maybe billions to the power of billions of hyperspace populations. Think this is funny, mike McNulty? Well, I'm here to tell you that your fucking great grand children may just dig you up in a hundred years and spit on your remains, for doing just that, PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And then, maybe a hamburger is really just a hamburger, or said perhaps better, the best hand in poker may be anything, it's a big hyperspace, Lovely Lieutenant Ouhora-Spock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

















A lot of covert fucking siege is all around me. Strange voices and banging doors earlier in my hallway beyond the apartment door. Strange phone calls, waking up cramped and queasy and poisoned, and lots more. The computer was very difficult to operate earlier while trying to do the previous blog, Chapter-13. Another loud telephone squealing sound also was made against my civil rights at just past ten this morning, and right here is more than enough shit within a very short span of fucking time for me to know that this is going to be most likely another day of fucking horror for me, dear fucking world of uncaring souls, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





It will be quite fascinating to see how the rest of the day plays out. First off, my installation with Comcast is scheduled for this middle afternoon, and every time anyone is scheduled to come over for any utility related event, I always wake up made ill from the fucking enemy force that I have named the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE. Today is no exception, Bob McDowell, FCC, Steve Caruso, FBI, World Court at the Hague, and others.



Once I talk to my professor friend during the Christmas Break at the local IRC College, hopefully, we can do something as a partnership to get my GAWNUM APP made, and promoted and sold at web-software application stores. As I speak my upstairs dick heads are kicking in suddenly with their weird noises that from time to time are also quite annoying.





I will keep you posted, my Morians and Everyonelsians, as the clock keeps ticking by. Let me add here, that someone from Illinois has called me for several weeks now, leaving me a very quick and unintelligible message that almost sounds like the word 'yip' all quick and garbled. It comes from the phone number of (224) 387-5684. Also, I have faced the fact that these fucking people are never ever going to leave me alone, no matter what I do do, or what I don't do. This is an illusion that I seem to buy into, from time to time; that I can lessen their wrath by stopping, or doing something; that I feel would appease their sick minds and illegal acts of wrath but as I said; it is not an accurate reality, and is merely me being swept into another one of OTAMM's great parlor trick fucking illusions. (Organized Trash Against Mark Mohr) = OTAMM. This is also found in 1988 on the US © Office, musical project done by me, called the 'Epitome of Harassment' tapes, in Washington, DC-13-600. Nothing ever changes, or seems to be able to move along for me. Oh well, I should hook up with L&O's Marguerite Sampson, as we seem to make quite a pair. Strike that; the more I think about this however; as one pissed off female teenager, is enough for me, right Lenny Briscoe. WOW Mister Macy. Speaking of him and parades, let me float this little idea by you all. All this shit since late August can be what I stated, and then again, it can be something else and very old. I have been living with it for three decades now. It is called the starting of the annual clockwork Thanx-2-Givens Siege, AKA Thanksgiving Siege. When I say the word 'clockwork', I mean that it strikes out of the blue every single year, and is a nightmare horrendous civil rights violating hellish fucking time for me. But it is not a clockwork perfection by any means as to a year to year precise time of beginning, lasting, or ending on specific calendar dates. Many old blogs from my first two years blogging my story onto the internet do indeed discuss this topic and get into it quite a bit specifically with lots of elucidated detail. I don't feel like drudging up unpleasant fucking bull shit right now on this blog, today good folks. I'll keep on reporting and recording. E.T.









I managed to survive through the great twenty thirteen's ''eleven-eleven''. I did not however have any desire to do a CHAPER #13, on that horrific numerical date of super botbar symbolism.



Folks, there are things happening, to all of you, to me, to this world, and you don't need to go onto social media junk like the new age ''youtube'' or other garbage similar stuff, in order to realize or recognize this. You merely need to get out of bed and for once, open your eyes. Not your physical eyes, your other ones, the ones that were discussed in the red font printing in the Holy Words of Christianity, by a direct ancestor of mine, my 61st grand father's uncle. Keep swimming, Joanie girl.



This tweet-blog is just to say that there are a couple dozen peeps out here who think I am unable to truly add up the one and the one and successfully arrive not at 1.999 or at 2.0001, or whatever, as Bob Andrews said so well in Pileggi's basement in 1975, to me, following band practice that summer's night that he was too busy to give me a lift from Westmont over to Lindenwold. Oh well, you stayed busy, and quite successful, may the gods bless all those who have brushed magical paths with me throughout the interactions of all of our lives, and some sort of powerful Harry Potter positive magic seemed to rub off onto them. Hip Hip Hurray, I mean this sincerely.



The only sad part is that I did every single thing that all the jerk offs in the fucking world who thought they were King Knowitall, told me to do, and all I ever got was axed and shafted. If a future dictionary describes unfairness someday, this needs to be there! END TRANSMISSION.





























You don't need to know it all, and I suppose in truth, neither do I, and don't of course. In any event, I long ago have stopped mentioning daily numerous death angels, almost daily small klutz incidents like the one I just had before starting this blog, nor do I tell anywhere near the things that go on in my life, merely what I feel is most important to tell, for sake of Morianity in general. TEE-HEE-HEE, oh lovely Yvonne DaCarlo Munster!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





It is half past eight this Sunday Vets Holiday weekend evening, on the tenth night in November, in the year of 2013. I again, had a Good Will delivery, and the two most important items that I really am trying to get, my full-sized extra-firm mattress, and my large cabinet for storing my tapes and discs and movies, etcetera, have still not been delivered, and this has been going on now since the start of October, or maybe even the final September week somewhere. I will of course be talking to my friend, and the store-manager, later on tomorrow afternoon, when he gets there; as this is starting to get quite absurd at this point. Despite a small spill of an eighth of a glass of just water, onto my bed, all cleaned up now, and this screwed up delivery number two; I still, as of yet, am not BOTBAR, close, but not there; as neither of these things were serious, and are easily remedied with two ingredients, that unlike many in 'the family' lack, but I do not; patience and determination, or persistence. It will eventually have to work out, merely producing a hassle for me to reach that glorified lovely point in eventuality. The prices cannot be beat, and the merchandise is in great condition. A polish and a wipe, and it is all practically like new. So far, I have two end tables, and a nice high back chair for doing my math and equation work, and other paperwork, my bills, etcetera; and my new office chair, for my computer work station. Also, 4 nice lamps, and my fifty inch wide screen TV; purchasing the TV for 35 bucks, and the lamps for 18 dollars total, the chair for five bucks, the two end tables, one round, and one sort of half square-half round, for another 22 clams; for a grand total without the 50 dollar delivery charge, of 75 smacks, or a total with delivery charge of a buck and a quarter. The mattress is already paid for, this was 50 dollars, and it will be delivered separately, free of charge; when they get another one into the store; as I screwed up once, and they screwed up once; and this is why I don't have it yet. I thought a 55 inch wide mattress was a queen size, but learned from the manager that this is called a full-size. There is twin, full, queen, and king size; in the world of mattresses. Also, on the very first delivery, it would not have mattered if they had screwed up and brought a king size mattress or not, as even a queen is not the right size for my area and my bed, and as stated, it needs the size called 'FULL'. So when all this eventually is straightened out, 175 bucks is not a bad deal at all for all this furniture, and very nice television; after living here in Florida with a horrible little shitty TV, that maybe 5 year olds might have. You can thank the KING family, not the KING MATTRESSES, for this hellish debacle in my life, but that; is now all water under the dam bridge; and I am tired of thinking and talking about this lovely wonderful group of 'human beings'. All I need down the road next year, to make this hellish dwelling a little more man-cave, and a little less cell-block-prison-living; is a nice set of curtains for my windows; a three adjoining system of separate windows, with just venetian blinds that roll up and down, and also open and close. When I first moved in, my pal from the Harvest, another older gentleman, Mister Clay Coins, had some nice rug-remnants that perfectly fit my entire living area, after a mere few cutting adjustments with a rug knife he let me borrow from him for doing this job. Shortly after I moved into this place, he left the Harvest at the Fort Pierce location, and transferred to the one just to the north at Vero Beach; and then not all that much out into the future beyond that in early March of last year, Jessica Grant told me to get lost, and that was that. Fortunately for freaking me, I was nearly at the end of a 72-month auto-payment plan, so I had to live very tight until those remaining months ticked by, and then I was glad to be out of the job market, after-all, I am on disability for a reason. The world claims I am a fucking totally insane crazy looney coo-coo bird, and should not be working if not absolutely necessary. I agree with the second half of that last sentence. Under what the WOMO puts me through and has for nearly 30 years or so give or take, working is not a prudent or feasible reality for me, so thank the fucking gods for Social Security Disability, at or not at, warp speed. Yes, do it Mike McNulty, if you wish to sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













Now most readers are not that much interested in my mundane little ditty back there about my attempt to improve my living space somewhat. This blog covers matters a bit more important, and is the very reason that rarely will you read things such as this stuff on it, or for that matter, news items, current affairs and culture, etcetera, UNLESS such shit, indeed pertains to me, my problems, and to Morianity, one way or another, and IMHO, naturally, right Mizz 1980 Daniels from RPL?







What many out here will be interested to know, for their own individual reasons that may all differ in motives and reasons to various degrees; is that I have decided to give a great big 1983-UNCLE-SCREAM OUT, and stop all music related shit. As once before, I again deleted powerful secret codes and precise connection pattern diagrams that operate my not yet completed in one nice enclosed device, called KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL. I am totally done forever messing with all of this shit. As you can see from previously posted up MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE BOTBAR numbers, (MPB) this will cause major things, as days and weeks go by; to happen in the vast gargantuan sized 'hyperspace', to begin to re-balance, and perhaps cause some wild things to occur, but this is anybody's guess, as nothing ever has to come into any particular individual universe from the vastness that contains all of these universes; the multiverse or the fifth dimension, with or without sports, women, or money related conversations, MMC of the great 1988 'Solid Gold' television show. The versions that the US © Office have, of all my newest post twenty-ohs material; is all back to the exact way that they have it in their files. I am through playing dangerous games, that do in truth, have incredible and major effects; yet unknown by any existing scientific experimentation data; because of transdimensional effects, that atomicly cause energies as of yet totally alien to our knowledge as a species in current time, as per the date on this blog, to develop what I term, a 'bleed-through' effect, or a 'BTE' for a short abbreviation. I already showed the example on a blog from earlier in this year, where I used the hypothetical example of one center soaking wet towel, and then all around this; numerous totally dry towels, and from just this, I now ask anyone in science, what formulas as of this very date; can accurately show the precise way that even with this example in five dimensionality reduced to some towels in a room on a floor; depict a precise pattern of which towels slowly over time or D-4, with the total towels being the D-5, so that one is able to accurately predict each time a soaking wet middle towel is dropped down again, with many dry towels all around it. If anyone says there is a way to equate the exact spreading-wet pattern into the dry towels, I'd enjoy hearing their comment immensely. BUT, even if you can convince me such a formula can be created in 2013, this is just for determining the exact bleed-through of wetness into these surrounding dry towels, each time being different, as how can this be repeated in precision? Each time, the middle central towel is wet with a tiny bit of less or greater total amounts of water, and each time, the surrounding dry towels will be arranged a small amount differently, even if it seemingly is duplicated with human eye precision, let alone just done bing-bang-boom style. Sorry about the ranting and ongoing details, I just am attempting to describe how hyperspace works, in a society that still believes even the word to be fictional or out of syfy shows and movies, and even the most educated astro-physicists are nowhere near where I am, in this cutting edge new reality, and all of this, is only because I have been forced indeed, to live fifth dimensionally for a long time now in my human waking world current-self-me lifetime, as Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr. Only Morians know the real reasons why, or some of them. 'Everyonelsians' just cannot be expected to have even a clue about what is being talked about in all of this. The subject is in all honesty, good people, way to lengthy for me to ever really do justice to it as so far as explaining this to all of you, in any real and meaningful way, I swear to you this is true. Now the reasons for my willingness to stop my music projects, songs, inventions, all of it, etcetera-etcetera; is because, I will not instead, be concentrating on getting my GAWNUM into a computer software program, and made into an app, and hopefully can get this promoted and sold at APP stores or wherever these APPS are sold to tablet and phone users all over, that we all see and hear about, every single day of our lives, as soon as we activate just about any electronic ON button, on anything that we own; with or without any sand dam sweepers, witches, drownings, pushers, old tunes from the eighties, or hidden messages to the future using the US © Office as an official time capsule, the only really trustworthy methodology for insuring anything that we can do, will survive into the future, and still be an ordinary every day dirt poor person, the general term for us are, 'nobody's'.





Now do I engage in my own White House Situation Room tactics from time to time; in an attempt to confiscate my WOMO enemies; and thereby help me better survive the extremely heavy sieges, that are always caused BY THEM? Well, you bet your ass I do, Annie Cornfieldvoices Costner Cutterlaw Blowback. In addition, I'll add in here, a retort from the great late Ward Hugh Beaumont Cleaver, to his son Theodore (Beaver), in that great fifties television show, ''Leave It To Beaver'', and that being, ''You just better bet on it'', and folks, this is truth. It is great advice. TAKE IT, listen to my words, not for my sake. Screw me. Yes folks, I said I was leaving for Mexico and the apartment was all packed up. I am leaving for Mexico, 'WHEN I'M READY', lovely endless-teen Marguerite Sampson. If I tell a white-fib occasionally, it will be amended later on, and is not to discredit me, I have enemies with great power, and the great US © Office has the taped conversation about this from early in 1988, with me and my late pal, David Charles Roth. You cannot fight them on any near-level playing field, never running cons on them, when they do nothing BUT run cons and hellishness on my, 24-7-365.2422!!! WHAAAA. Still, I promise you, this is not a coded-poem from my old LIFE JOURNAL cassette tape days, and it certainly is not a fabrication that will be later admitted to as another temporary CON JOB ON THE MILITUFORCE, when I tell you, that I will not be doing anything ever again, musically, you want it, you got it, you sick mother fuckers, B---U---T, you won't stop me from going ahead with my plans to promote and globally sell my GAWNUM SOFTWARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Take that to the Toronto Bank, YO! This is not the only thing I will be working on either, and I do believe there are parts of my WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE enemies who can and indeed DO read my thoughts, so they already freaking know what I plan and these things are beyond hyper ultra big ass time. So screw music, and screw my whole family, FOREVER. As far as I am concerned, you're all DEAD 2 ME, so don't bother taking me anywhere Lieutenant Sakavich and Sergeant Smarzinski of 1989 Voorhees Police Department, and say hello to the great local county prosecutor's Offices for me, folks. I'm doing my very best to carry out your ideas and advice given to me, and landed somewhere between the pipes below the toilet seat, and the Arthur Movie from early in the nineteen-eighties, Dawn-Marie King and Louis Laines. My best to the gang at Cifaloglio too, if out there any place, YO. I think Muscles-Ed knew that night deep down, that things were about to take a major change for all of us, and well, shit dudes, THEY DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













The phone was attacked again at 7 this morning, no way to call out, just dead. It would seemingly work, dial tone, call tones, but the calls never completed, just dead circuits at the end of any attempted outgoing call. Then the internet was hit again as well a few minutes ago at just after 9. I was reading my blog up on the Blogger Web-site, and it crashed, a bright light struck and nothing worked, and things went nuts, and I had to manually shut down, restart, and go through the normal procedures for recovery. I honestly do not know why this has returned to this death level, Mizz Bondi, US Attorney General, FBI, FCC, ACLU, or anyone out here who might care that I am being monstrously fucking tortured to death. I know my no good rotten daughter and her friends must be behind this, and I truly hate her guts. Like any of this was my fault, I am caught up in this rip tide from hell, along with all the other messy shit that's going on. I am not doing anything to you. But if this assault keeps on going, I will make 100 CD copies of the talent-added new material, and begin placing them in their sleeves, and then going all around the county, dropping them all around crowded places where people are bound to find them. With each CD will be an accompanying cassette tape of me telling a nightmare story, and also providing the finders with the internet address of the Mountainpen.



In-between the time that I called the Comcast peeps, to have them bundle me a package and cancel my AT&T phone permanently, leaving me to just call them to cancel the internet on the day that the Comcast installation is done next week; I came over to read my blog on the net, and it froze up after a bright light. Please stop this Mariah, I know all the horrible things that you did as a child, please, let us not take this any further, please. I know you are all mighty ISIS, and I am not afraid of you, go ahead and kill me. Another fantastic OJ trial is definitely destined to be around the corner, and this one will top anything yet ever, in the global media. A wow to describe this would require a page the size of the solar fucking system.



THIS STOPS NOW, OR I WILL DO WHAY MUST BE DONE.



We all better wash our hands before it is too late!











I WILL NOT LIVE IN FEAR OF YOU ISIS-JEHOVAH, IF YOU WANT TO BURN MY BUILDING DOWN, GO FOR IT, BRING MIZZ BENITAR AND HER HOT SKATING NUMBERS TOO.





Here is a little bio information about the Head-Morian, as requested by the original blog website that I joined in 2006 to begin my blogs and the Morianity-Project: MY LINK TO OLD BLOGS IS AS FOLLOWS:








New blog from December of 2011----------------------------------http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/







**********On Blogger since January 2006



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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING MORIANITY-FOUNDATION'S FINAL BLOG, 'GO WASH YOUR HANDS'. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY, YO YO YO YO YO. THIS IS CHAPTER 16.












MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.












ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS CLICK RIGHT NEXT TO THOSE LITTLE FREAKING BULLETS.

About me:








Gender
Male
Industry
Occupation
Location
Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction
Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
Interests
Favorite Movies
Favorite Music
Favorite Books
Gone with the wind, the winds of war, time travelers from our future



You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?



An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:



At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.











United States Copyright Office Records, pasted in part:

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001148157
1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001189027
1989



COPYRIGHT CLAIMANT NAME: MARK WAYNE MOHR











IT WASN'T SO HARD TO FIGURE THIS ALL OUT, COPYRIGHT OFFICE, IT JUST TOOK ME ABOUT A QUARTER OF A DAM CENTURY TO DO SO, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













OFFICIAL LEGAL DOCUMENT ON THE INTERNET POSTED BY MARK WAYNE MOHR, A LEGAL DYING DECLARATION UTTERANCE.



IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM FOUND DEAD, I WAS MURDERED, and you need to retrieve my own voicemail, on my own telephone; and then come to blogger dot com, and see who has killed me; all of my enemies, and each one of them, in their own evil ways.























































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

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Comments



Goyim in the AM
“The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”
I don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.
Posted by: Goyim in the AM | December 12, 2006 at 02:42 AM
King Daevid MacKenzie
…the link for “Android & Angel” is screwed up. Y’all may want to fix it…
Posted by: King Daevid MacKenzie | December 12, 2006 at 04:01 AM
Listener Therese
Sorry about that! I just fixed it.
Steve PMX
I think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns and christ-blocking shades.
K.
Sweet Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could be real, I’ve known folks like him.
bartelby
Just sounds like someone responding to internal stimuli, there are many people like this probably an hour’s drive from anyplace in the Northeast. How is this different than getting enjoyment watching a man with a club foot trying to walk?
Posted by: bartelby | December 12, 2006 at 11:14 PM
Chris Arter
Hello My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have never been able to find anything on him except his name and the names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″ tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90 minutes I’ve ever experienced.
maledoro
I clicked on the Aquarius link to find Mark from NJ’s CDR, but it was no longer listed. :(
Posted by: maledoro | August 07, 2007 at 06:54 AM
Fairlight
Aaah, very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album “Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!
Posted by: Fairlight | September 22, 2008 at 02:34 PM
Ghostlight
I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.
Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:19 PM
Ghostlight
I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.
Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:21 PM
Ghostlight
I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.
Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:25 PM
Tony NYC
Hi. I got to this page while reading about music played on the ‘Jews Harp’. I’ve been searching, for a loooong time, for a song that was played one lazy August afternoon on WFMU, around 1980, or earlier.
It was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging, groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy faaaaavoooriiiite”.
When it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher, psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word ‘things’.
Is there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of it?
It’s been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song I’ve ever heard except for this one.
On that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s ‘Sandwiches of You’
I’ve listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and it wasn’t any of those.
Thanks, for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr at earthlink dot net
Posted by: Tony NYC | May 14, 2009 at 10:44 PM
Razzy McThaxton
This fella is MOST DFEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family(Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and sending Atlantic City-residing life gaurds and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him off-gaurd. The only problem being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his latest blogs.
Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March 16, 2012 at 09:00 AM





















Anyone can see if you would just god dam click on the three month prompt, on the DOW JONES shit, that this is all being done to me, just as I claim that it is, but I have not begun to tell shit, and this is going to go to the fucking wall if needs be; and you just see if this is some fucking ass poker bluff, WOMO-M-2-F!!!



































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Jupiter, Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.










YOU SEE, FBI, THEY HAVE TAKEN MY RIGHTS TO PROVE MY VICTIMIZATION OF THEIR CRIMES, AND VIOLATED THEM, NO MORE BEING ALLOWED TO SHOW MARKET CHARTS, SO ANY REAL SYMPATHIZER, CAN GET TO A DOW JONES CHART, AND CLICK ONTO A 3 MONTH CHART, PROVING WHAT THESE FUCKING PRICKS HAVE DONE TO ME SINCE 1986 NOW; THAT CAUSED THE ENTIRE RUINATION OF A HUMAN LIFE, MINE.































RIGHT AT THE TIME THE WOMO CUT OFF MY TELEPHONE CONVERSATION, THE DOW JONES WENT INTO ALL TIME MOTHER FUCKING HIGH TERRITORY; AND THIS IS WHAT I AM FORCED TO SUFFER THROUGH, AND NOBODY WILL BELIEVE ME, GINA, NOBODY; AND PEEPS ASK ME; ''MARK, WHY DO YOU SAY YOU DIED AND WENT INTO HELL, AND WHY DO YOU FUCKING SAY YOU HATE THE WORLD AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE SO MUCH''? Well, here is YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY assholes, OK KINGS??





Trying to figure out why this evil fucking power is destroying me all these years, is next to, if not totally impossible. Still folks, let's see what we can do, to take a bite out of all this for right now; Natalie Wood and Roseann Delaney, YO.
























{{{(((O---U---C---H)))}}}





























WHERE ARE YOU DIANA ZUUDLOCRONESSIA ARTEEMIS WHEN YOUR LITTLE FREAKING BOY NEEDS YOU SO MUCH, AWESOME GIRL??????????????

WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY, ….....


















































''Me from 1985'', I'm Criana for Diana, oh precious sweet Diana, you have gone away, no matter what I do you will not stay. I try so hard every night and every day, but no matter what I do you went away. Come back to me LIGHTNING!!!!!!!

© THESE LYRICS ARE COPYRIGHT, ME, IN EARLY 1985.







HERE IS WHAT IS HAPPENING FOLKS, TO THE POOR PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN, THIS WEEK AND TODAY; BEFORE WE EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING THIS ANY GOD DAM ASS FURTHER DOWN THE PIKE, YO FOLKS.



















BOY COULD I USE SOME HELP HERE, LOVELY ATTORNEY GENERAL PAM BONDI, LIKE WOW.











































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This address link takes you to my early blogs, AHA-AHA!!!!!










THIS IS NOT A NICE THING FOR ME TO SAY, BUT I MEAN IT FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY FUCKED UP UGLY OLD HEART. I TOTALLY FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS, JEHOVAH GOD/DESS, WHOEVER AND WHATEVER UR X INFINITY. YOU ARE CRUEL BEYOND WORDS, AND HAVE PLACED ME IN A HELLBOX THAT PROVES YOU ARE A DEVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dawn King said something to me in early 2010 in a letter, I echo this now to you!!!!!!!!!
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