GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 7

GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 7

NOVEMBER 7, 2013, 3:33 ANTE' MERIDIAN

I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU!!! AS LONG AS THESE CUNT SNIFFING PRICKS HAVE ME TO ENDLESSLY RELENTLESSLY PICK FUCKING ON AND PERSECUTE, THIS STOCK STINKING GARBAGE MARKET WILL NEVER EVER NEVER EVER STOP GOING UP UP UP UP UP UP UP! DON'T LISTEN, DON'T BELIEVE, BUT I AM NEVER FUCKING EVER WRONG, AND YOU ALL KNOW THIS IS TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING ASS TRUE AND ACCURATE, BUT THIS IS NOT THE BEE IN MY BONNET THAT IS STINGING MY FUCKING ASS WITH PAINS AND AGONIES BEYOND ANY POSSIBLE VERBAL DESCRIPTION, YO YO YO YO!

HERE'S THE FUCKING RUN AWAY BULL CHART GINA, BUT REMEMBER SWEET GIANT THING YO, THE REAL SHIT STARTED WHEN I ADDED TALENT INTO THE TECHNO-POP SHIT, ON THE 28 AUGUST DAY. I DO NOT ALWAYS TELL THE WORLD, OR MY BLOGAUD, EVERY LITTLE FUCKING DETAIL IN MY LIFE, AND WHAT I AM UP TO. THIS IS FUCKING WAR, AND DOING THIS IN WAR, WILL GET A SOLDIER KILLED AT THE SPEED OF FUCKING LIGHT. JUST ASK THE MILITARY POWERS OF THIS PLANET, ANYONE; YOU JUST GO ASK THEM!!!

A CHILD CAN MATCH THE PERSECTUION I GET WITH THESE CHARTS FROM THE FUCKING CUNT EATING STOCK ILLEGAL MANIPULATED ICPE-APE- MARKETS. A RUNNY NOSED PUNK OF AGE 4 CAN SEE THIS!!!

THE ENDLESS 1986 NIGHTMARE BETWEEN THE DJIA AND ME:

I AM GETTING MOTHER FUCKING SUPER SICK OF THIS MOTHER FUCKING SHIT, PEEPS!

This is driving me out of my cunt lapping fucking mind folks, almost 30 fucking years of this horrible monster ass bullshit!!!!

Don't think for one dam moment Admiral Spockwhales, that I don't have some major fucking cats to cock sucking throw out of a very mean nasty growling bag, after I post up my normal blog paste-ins, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Al Jolson knows perfectly well that none of you has heard anything yet, so keep right on following along, or don't, your gain, or your loss, I promise, WOMO.

I have a lot of things to tell and say. Naturally; I will pick and choose the few that time permits all of us to share in some really mind blowing stuff, even in you may not be consciously aware of this truth, YO!

On the tape I was playing, it refused to play the side that I had recorded something on, and it was a brand new very recently purchased cassette tape. Three guesses what it was folks. I have recently added some 'talent' into the machine-voice-mix on my song, ''You'll Be Crossing Over''. What it is about this and all of music in general, and me, I'll never be allowed to understand, that is one thing I AM sure of, but that's just the fucking point, ''JUST WHAT IS SOMEBODY'S FREAKING ASS MOTHER FUCKING PROBLEM''? Go fucking figure, my peeps, YO?

QUEEN MARIAH AND HER FRIENDS ARE REALLY MESSING WITH ME AS I TYPE THIS, AND I THINK THAT SHE WELL KNOWS, A DOULBE BARREL COUNTERSTRIKE IS COMING; AND THIS IS WHY SHE IS DOING THIS. I AM PLANNING TO TELL A HUGE FUCKING THING, WORLD!!!!!!!! FUCK WITH THIS MACHINE ALL YOU WANT TO GREAT MILLIONTH COUNCIL LEADER, SCYLLA, MY ETERNAL BROWN EYED LOVE FROM THE STARS.

First, I had no intention of letting Avalon Bonjovi get away with that stunt they pulled on me, so I struck back hard and put together lots of shit that I used to have years ago, and combined it all into my Mickey Mouse little system here, a huge pile of junk really, but it is the secret knowledge that creates the technology, not the billion fucking dollar Trump entertainment Studios and machines. If you don't know this, you don't know major truths about inventors, creators, thinkers in originality, and the world of audio. Only the system the final product is played back on needs to cost a million to sound pop concert ready, what's recorded to be played through it or any cheap system, is apples and oranges, if not flowers and skyscrapers. With the new world of digital and CD recorders costing a couple hundred dollars on a good sale, my finished products can go through my system and be converted to CD after a very unique personal mastering system, my own invention; and then can be burned into the computer Windows Media Player files. I would not care so much or have such a bug up my ass with so many things, but WHEN SOMEONE CAPTAIN, OR SOMETHING, SIR; endlessly seems to be going to such infinite and incredible trouble AND BEYOND EXTREME LENGTHS, just to keep me from doing stuff, WELL, THE American in my blood MAKES ME DO IT ALL THE MORE, AND JUST KEEP RIOGHT ON FUICKING FIGHTER ALL THE HARDER, ATCO MUSIC CURSE BATHTUBS AND ALL, but this is only where shit starts getting fucking real good, good folks, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, this is just the crumbs off of the banquet table, Mike AHA-AHA-AHA McNulty. I PROMISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now as stated on an earlier recent blog folks, I have both a track with just these harmony vocals generated from my great Lab-Technician of 1984, and then I have a track of the completed final mix-down music, from the now defucked/defunct Avalon Recording Studio, now Bonjovi Entertainment Corporation, in Port Saint Lucie, Florida. Some of you may just remember the start of this year as well as before the Christmas fucking helliday-holiday season of twenty-twelve, and the incident with the powerful dreams of my engineer Ryan while he was with his 'family' supposedly in New Jersey, where both he and the big boss hail from just as I do; and the cigarette thing, and the rotten job and eventual close down of the place, or said a lot better, and definitely a lot fucking quicker; another 'Mark Wayne Mohr SOSO-WEIN', (Same Old Same Old-What Else Is New)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He had enough garbage in that studio to put a lot more talent into the vocals, and was planning to do this after returning first from New York City and then a visit with his family for the holiday season, only it never happened. It would have taken a couple of hours to do one of the four bars a hell of a lot better, and then this would be used all four times in the fucking song, we all know what's being said without saying it, a completed KFP system that is still in the construction process would sample numerous bytes from other songs, and artificially learn the way the words an d notes need to phrase out musically, this is called, techno-pop talent reproduction, and no one has a program as good as what I used back in the days when things were all done by wild plug and cord connections and various effect machines in-between the recorder and the amps. It would have taken some time to make the final fourth word to move all around in harmonious blends, and then make four more tracks and put them both a barely noticeable amount of microseconds ahead as well as behind the main track, at equal volumes most of the time, occasionally riding the gain manually here an there, and there are a million ways to do all this longhand, but it is time consuming, so he gave me a rotten job, after telling me he was going to really work this thing for me. But this was NOT the same Ryan that had promised to do this for me before leaving in the autumn about thirteen months ago, for the north. That Ryan was very proud of himself for quitting his smoking and told me he was finished forever with it, and was now using the electronic blue cigarette system. That was the Ryan that would have come back and done a super job for me instead of piece of garbage. Engineering is everything, and especially in a techno-pop creation. I know I expect a lot, but that is because I know what can be done when you ride all the effects and all the levels and do a totally perfect job. Otherwise, when working with a speaking voice, all you are doing is pitching it musically, and only three notes of music range or so, will come close to sounding similar to the true singing voice from the sampled source, in the case of my project, the introduction part. I will complete a tremendous machine, and I will complete 'KFP', the ultimate music computer keyboard system, but as of now, what works once, does not work the next day, it is sensitive and has a mind of its own, and was originally meant to operate totally and only, with analogue audio equipment. Why the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is so hell bent on my not ever doing anything at all in the field of music, must have something deeply rooted in both unnatural and yet unknown realities, or they would not make it their life fucking mission to stop every single mother fucking thing I ever try to do, WITH MUSIC. Now with my lab-tech, this is fair game. This was a conversation between US in 1984, and although recording on the telephone is illegal, I'll admit, fine YO, then how about if everybody comes clean about everything? When it all is balanced out and said and done, I might do a couple years in a federal fucking pen, but when I get out, the owners of this world will be legally liable to cut me a fucking check for about eighty billion US dollars, for all the shit that's been stolen from me, and illegally used without my permission, and on and on an don I could go for a week of typing without stopping for a glass of piss juice!!!!!!!!!!!!! also, because the voice was when she was only 14 and not 20, it is not under contract by anyone, or even legally owned, not even by wonderful her. Still, I see this nasty ass little butt wipe three inch jet and chemtrail off to the south while driving out of Mikey's driveway to head home, and get down the road and play the tape of a more improved mix-down, just a fraction of what I can eventually do, but is a real head turner, not like the garbage I sent to the Copyright Office back on the fucking third day of July, but let me get back again to the cigarette thing as this fits so powerfully into shit, it honestly, without this added into things, would be like trying to make a thermonuclear device without any knowledge of atomic fission whatsoever, or trying to eat a dozen apples in five minutes with no teeth and sore infected gums. It's just not fucking happening, BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!

Now before Ryan my engineer left for New York and then New Jersey, first on studio business and then to visit his family back on the last Christmas holiday, he had given up his nasty smoking habit, telling me how much his girlfriend hated it, how his clothes would always stink so badly, and he was the one, who just went and on while outside on a ''smoke-break'', at his place on my last time there before his trip late last year in 2012; who just went literally on and on and on and on and on. Anyone that dead set against something, in my opinion, doesn't quickly revert back to his old habit. He was happy and content with his alternative treatment, the Electronic-Blue system for smokers trying to quit. He told me when he got back, we would work on putting my daughters' talent into the last part of the chorus lines that he had put into his vocoder machine, by adding many things I had told him about,and he was the one who said it would work out real good and as soon as I could get into the studio in early February or middle, whenever, in this year, 2013, he would fix it all up. The entire harmony is a mere repeating machine copied from the intro sample, ''You'll Be Crossing Over'', and the songs' title. However, on the word ''over'', a lot of better changes were going to be made, along with changes of other types in this chorus, electronically. Once it is done, this bar repeats on other basic chords and repeats again, four times total throughout the song. Some mild improvements that would have taken a few hours and I would gladly have paid for, caused the entire world to change, right down to the studio suddenly overnight closing down to become some other something, ending my ability to do projects there with him. I am with Yogi Berra 100% on this one, not for this one incident, but because every single time I ever try to do anything that pertains to fucking MUSIC, the entire planet around me seems to fall apart with precision SWISS CLOCKWORK, I mean it never ever fails, and when Dave Roth was with me and my pal for many years, he too fell victim to this, I can only call a supernatural curse. Eventually, even on a lousy little income from SSI, because of my extreme ability to create electronic parlor tricks; I will finish a completed model of my invention, once and for all, called, ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL'' or KFP for short, ® 1980-2013. Now when the magnetic-percentage for the year of 2013 began to totally fucking self destruct beginning on the August 28 day, the same day I began dissecting the master discs on my own stuff. Even though I always do shit with headphones only, somehow THEY ALAYS KNOW EVERYTHING, WHOEVER ''THEY'' REALLY FUCKING IS. This is when all hell broke fucking loose for me, and the MPB changed from what it had held so far at that time on the year, and began literally fucking doubling into a horrendous monster ass fuckin g total nightmare. But folks, this is just stuff that I want in the back of your freaking minds while I tell you the biggest part of this song, and the lab technician, and the incredible medical-office 2008 dream before my kidnapping by the King branch of this powerful star traveling family. I don't expect you to believe on face value that the great ISIS comes here to Earth in many lives, and does all of this, I know it is all the truth, and we've known each other forever and ever, but that';s my fucking problem. Right now, I am here to tie something in big ass fucking ultra hyper time for all of you, whether you ever GET IT or not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As you all should know if you have followed me with any attention at all; beginning on the night of 4 June in 1983, 365 months and 3 days ago, (30 years, 5 months, 3 days) at half past ten at fucking night on a warm dark summer night, while residing in a nice split level rental home, in Atco, New Jersey;owned by Gerald Pliner; I was suddenly struck down like out of the famous sixties supernatural soap television show called 'DARK SHADOWS', when the witch, played by Lara Park, character named Angelique, did witchcraft on her lover, played by Jonathan Frid, character named Barnabas Collins, and she placed a handkerchief around a toy soldier that he used to play with as a young boy, and began choking and pulling it around the soldier's neck. Suddenly Barnabas grew deathly ill and nearly died, choking horrifically from this witchcraft attack, and finally, in the nick of time, Angelique changed her mind and undid the deed, removing the handkerchief from the toy soldier, and Barnabas miraculously recovered as though nothing at all had ever happened. Now taking this further still, I had been messing around with powers that went beyond even these fictional witch's junk on the television show. Between Privecode and Magnesonic all hooked up together with other inventions and other items bought at various electronic shops and places; I ad put a system together and was actually communicating directly, with the forces of this planet's biosphere itself, you would call this, LIGHTNING. I came to learn it was a female entity with a great intelligence, but was a young female and extremely mischievous. There are those who are out here reading my blogs who know just how totally real my words fucking are. They do all that they can to fuck with me, hack me, discredit me, discourage me, and ruin me, because should I ever get this exposed to the world, all the UFO shit put together and multiplied 88 ways back from Sunday noon, would be watered down piss flavored bug juice fro our summer camp days, folks; next to this ISIS GODDESS, from Gary-7 Mission Earth Star Trek, Serious Satellite radio and XM 'Exim Ratio' of the 'Permission Barrier', that I sent before any of their copycat junk was ever made known to the world, in 1994. Still this is nothing, I could go on a year typing how things all connect, and how I was ripped off on hundreds of things that many now take total credit for and of course, live in style with millions and billions, while I live in perpetual fucking ass poverty and jeers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But the real powerful shit is the great Lab Technician of the great book called, 'The Permission Barrier'', written about a decade to the day, that I had interacted with this wonderful Goddess ISIS, for the first of several times in this universe, and infinite times in infinite other close-in parallel ones, and on top of that, in infinity or on the Astral -Plane, where we live endlessly together in HER GREATY CITY, known by some few mortal world awake enlightened folks, spoken in English translation, SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, meaning Astrally, literally; CITY OF THE GREAT SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, where there, she uses her CITY NAME of Jehovah. Everyone needs a registered city name to reside in this fantastic heavenly place. Without it, when caught illegally there a fourth time you are automaticly sentenced to a region known as DOGTOWN, so horrible that I could type torturous hellish nightmare words forever, and you would still need to experience this hellishness to have it register inside your awake brain, and then you would most likely go stark raving mad for the rest of your human existence. But while here in present life, unlike while here as Sarah Nurockey from Atlantic City in the sixties; ISIS has only a few scattered memories and dream fragments of her true all powerful identity in higher truth, just enough to let her know even as a tiny toddler, how special she is, and always will be, and knew all along that she would be a tremendously successful person in the physical world during this human incarnation. But a very strange man with very strange eyes, told me a powerful truth, two and a half years ago, when we got together on a holiday, to go see a local band perform, down along the Fort Pierce Inlet, right past the foot of the South Hutchinson Island Bridge, and the Coast Guard Station. After we got back in my vehicle and I was driving him home just west past the on-ramps for Interstate-95, and it's time to let it out. He said he has an invention that people from places all over the hyperspace are monitoring him so that he will not break the maximum for hyperspace travel alterations per trip. It seems there is an established average per-trip max out point for just how much you may do that may make alterations and create larger outward timeline expanses and more and more parallel realities as a result. Robert McGuire was the one managing this for this local area, don't even ask, the area would not make a lot of sense, it does not even remain stable. Now this man wears dark glasses, night and day, and if he takes them off, his eyes shine like two kit up huge sparkling gems inside his eye sockets. He is not a human being, and he lives right here in this town. He asked me if I had a few minutes to come in to where he lives in his own small dwelling on a large estate of farms just beyond the highway down west on Orange Avenue, and then to the north a bit. It is big, and his family is loaded. He does things that make no sense, and seems to have just what he needs, no more, no less, and although he is well into his fifties, he appears very young and has a full head of long bright yellow hair that is not dyed or faked, like my billionaire distant cuzz. Anyhow, I went in and he handed me a soda, and he said to me, I and some of the witnesses have read you on the web. Don't you know what happened? I said to him, ''What do you mean billy?''. He then said something along the lines of, you were teaching those who read your blogs how to do the Fascitar Ancient traveling, and the great Babylonian Goddess practiced it as a result, and then came to you in your ''dreams'' just as you taught her to do it. I thought I was gonna' fucking piss my pants and dropped the soda can down on his end table and starred at him for a while with my mind blown. Then he added just this and after that, asked me to go home and ponder on all of it. He said, ''She is the only one on this Earth that can ever take away your choking problem, but in order for her to do it, she'd have to come out and admit to being the Goddess ISIS. She won't do that for you, I know her, she is here to stay this time longer than ever before, about 85 years''. I asked if there is any advice he could give me, and he replied along the lines of, she's watching everything you do and hears all that you say, day and night, even in your thoughts, and you can never escape her, and she will never ever help you with your choking condition even though she is the only one in the world who fully knows it is all the truth and all of it is real and that you are not just some nut case. While I stood at his door and he was practically throwing me out at this int, telling me he had to be somewhere soon and needed to get ready; I said one more thing to him. I did not tell him all about the song from 1983 or my conversations I had while she was playing Lab Technician; but I said I might electronically make up some songs and smoke her out, using her voice, after all the same forces messed with her too, and this is what she seemed to be talking to me about in those wild medical office dreams in 2008. Then with practically a shove out the door, Billy retorted in a calm and less loud voice than earlier, ''I AM ISIS, I AM JESUS CHRIST, I AM SARAH NUROCKEY, all using the body right now of your friend Billy. He then took off his wild shades and stared into my eyes until they felt burnt as though I had just starred too long at the sun. He walked me to my car parked a few yards away from his door, leaving me ready to drop dead. His final words to me were, I will forget I told you any of this as Billy if we ever see each other again, Yancy. I climbed into my vehicle, and his words to me, after closing my car door, with the window down on the drivers front seat side; were along the lines of, you probably won't see me again and that might be for the best. If you play your little game with music, remember what your ADA friend told you when you phoned him from the park that day in the middle nineties? I had never told him a thing about that incident near National Park, Redbank, New Jersey late in th year of 1994, the end of October, when Ron Wirtz, the Camden County Prosecutor ADA told me from a pay phone where I had just called him from one late afternoon and told about how bad my enemies were and how seriously they were stalking me and violating my civil rights, and he said to me, ''Mark, if you test them, they're going to give you a reaction''. That is an honest direct quotation of what he told me that day 19 years ago. I said back to him after starting my car up and throwing it out of park and into drive, foot still on the brake pedal, ''Billy, what do you mean''? His answer was said while he was walking away from me towards his dwelling on this huge farm ranch property, that I again can quote as it hangs in my mind to this second like a pile of cement holding my feet into a vat of pig shit; ''You know what you can do and you know what they won't let you do, and you need to become a Jehovah's Witness and be under the umbrella of our church, and never again so much as think about any of these things again. With that he was gone and in his house behind a closed door, and I was driving slowly away and off of this ranch; all like something out of a movie like 'Mannix', 'Hitchcock', and 'L&O', all three rolled the fucking hell into one. I was going to get this shit off my chest sooner or later, and this was just the time that I knew I felt was right for doing so.

Why the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is so hell bent on my not ever doing anything at all in the field of music, must have something deeply rooted in both unnatural and yet unknown realities, or they would not make it their life fucking mission to stop every single mother fucking thing I ever try to do, WITH MUSIC.

Now with my lab-tech, this is fair game. This was a conversation between US in 1984, and although recording on the telephone is illegal, I'll admit, fine YO, then how about if everybody comes clean about everything? When it all is balanced out and said and done, I might do a couple years in a federal fucking pen, but when I get out, the owners of this world will be legally liable to cut me a fucking check for about eighty billion US dollars, for all the shit that's been stolen from me, and illegally used without my permission, and on and on an don I could go for a week of typing without stopping for a glass of piss juice!!!!!!!!!!!!! also, because the voice was when she was only 14 and not 20, it is not under contract by anyone, or even legally owned, not even by wonderful her. Still, I see this nasty ass little butt wipe three inch jet and chemtrail off to the south while driving out of Mikey's driveway to head home, and get down the road and play the tape of a more improved mix-down, just a fraction of what I can eventually do, but is a real head turner, not like the garbage I sent to the Copyright Office back on the fucking third day of July; and kapow, the tape just garbled and would not play. I parked someplace after crossing over the Hutchinson Island south Fort Pierce Bridge, no pun intended, honestly, well maybe a little one; and the only way this will play is to play it in auto reverse mode, and I have to get used to pushing opposite settings for working it and reversing it after a play, etcetera, a real pain in the ass. But I had with me two other tapes, and no problems at all were presenting themselves with them, not in forward mode, not in auto reverse taping mode, they both operated with Swis perfection. So when I got inside my apartment, I played the tape on my system here, again, no problem, it just refuses to play in the car system, and this is totally SUPERNATURAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Amittyville, New York, and the haunted house, is a total hoax. My shit is totally real. None of you seem to remember when it was admitted to, but I do. Quite a while back, it all came out that Ammityville was just another big UFO big ass balloon hoax, without any innocent little child along for the ride, scaring the nation half to death so some fucking arrogant slob could get their 15 minutes, whatever the hell that shit really means to any of these losers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had fucking pastors and preachers tell me that SATAN was personally assaulting me for unknown reasons. Shit was going down around me that had no Earthly rational mother fucking explanation whatsoever. Then Jim Genius Burr told me that it all has something to do with my family. I thought that he was a total fucking fruitcake looney bird, BUT GUESS WHAT FOLKS, HE HAPPENED TO BE FUCKING 100% CORERECT, ALL ALONG, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There was a great nineties movie called, ''The Truman Story'', you need to get it, rent, buy, download, whatever, or this will not make as much sense. I had to prove to myself that I could get down here to Florida and live here, as in this great movie, the poor bastard teried to leave his area andwas totally stopped, even more than I get stopped, each and every time that I ever attempt to do anything at all in this real world where I appear to be stuck inside of some unfathomable loop in HELL ITSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now my real-life test was a very necessary thing for me to eventually run, with or without the escape of my horrible kidnappers. What I have learned is so horrible, that it can never ever be blogged. The area I cannot escape is a bubble-hologram that anyone can see, and is not limited in range to any particular grouping of square or cubic miles in waking world distance. It moves with me. You look up in th eskty on a clear blue fucking day and you can see it plain as a pile of stinky ass dog shit. You cannot out run it, and it is not some local small town or even state, or anything such as in that great movie. Folks, it could be 1855 or 2476 or Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, America, or Antarctica, or hundreds of islands all scattered the world over. When I came down here in December of 2009, I brought the world of ME down here with me. The peeps at the Harvest, the cold first winter that was totally record breaking, and I could go on. Jim Burr once said to me, ''Mark, you effect people''. He wasn't a liar on that, even though he told one very vicious lie that I seriously doubt even the gods can forgive him for, but that's another matter. All things I do effects huge things everywhere and I know it. This can be touched on in greater lengths later on in future blogs. I sure effected the Bonjovi peeps and Avalon,. No matter how they might try and argue this point against me if they were right here in my face. I could of course type on for months and not tell the entire bloody fucking mess behind all of this, so later blogs can begin digging deeper later on, with all these sordid unpleasantrys. Fuck you, there is nothing wrong with the word unpleasantrys. I will use it and fuck you, Spell Checker Microsucks!!!!!!!!!!

WELCOME TO THE MORIANITY FOUNDATION, GOOD FOLKS. Anyone can join, and the price is ABSOLUTELY FREAKING FREE.

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:

http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/

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

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

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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my poor mom, don't you and I suffer, YO!!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT, here we go, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*******SUICIDE – OR WAS IT?*******

BY Grace Mason, in her original words, in the year of our Lord, AD 1977.

Upon recovering from what appeared to be a suicide attempt, my thoughts centered around others who did not survive ''apparent suicide''. There must be numerous cases where the person did not intentionally plan to take his or her life but never lived to affirm it.

The furtherest thing from my mind that night was suicide. Yet I had taken sixty tranquilizer pills, which would certainly indicate I had tried to commit suicide. Other circumstantial evidence would further convince anyone as I had hidden the prescription bottle in a boot in my closet before passing out. There also would appear to be logical reasons for the overdose I'd taken. But, I had no idea of suicide when I downed those tranquilizers. I merely wanted to forget what had just happened.

I am convinced now that some of us can reach the limit of what we can take and then all that is necessary is an additional sudden shock to catch us off guard and set off the alarm – an alarm that causes one to react irrationally momentarily. If alone, it certainly can cause disastrous effects....And that is just what happened to me.

I believe my happy well-balanced childhood prepared and sustained me in the difficult years that were to lie ahead.

I was twenty-six years old when I fell in love and married, fully ready not only to accept the joys but also the trials, tribulations and sorrows through the years.

For the first ten years of married life there were just two of us. People often remarked that we must be the happiest couple living – and we were. We were very much in love....But there was one serious problem. My husband throughout our eighteen years of married life had difficulty in maintaining employment and the problem was made manifold in the last eight years of our marriage because of the additional responsibility of raising our son. Unable to support us at the end, and finally, after everything we owned had to be sold at auction no house to live in, or car to drive, food and clothes at a real premium ….he walked out and we separated. I am happy that my son, who was eight years old at the time, has grown into a fine young man, has an excellent job and lives in his own apartment.

I worked throughout most of my married life in various businesses and during the past fourteen years have continuously worked as a secretary. It wasn't easy going backward to live in a one-room furnished apartment, but I managed to make a comeback for my son and me after the breakup of my marriage. After a few years of being on my own I procured a divorce so that I could forget the past and make a fresh start.

A year ago a man in the company where I worked asked me to go out to dinner with him. It wasn't long before we knew we were in love. He asked me to marry him but there were complications. Before ever going out with him he had expressed to me his intention of divorcing his wife. I had every good reason to believe him. I was aware that he had many unsolvable problems with his wife and there seemed to be no hope for their reconciliation. They lived apart in different cities and rarely saw each other. (I have a very strong contention that people should remain married if at all possible and I could not bear to be responsible for a divorce.) 'Her afterthought'

We had a year of beautiful times together, awaiting his final decree so we could be married. We talked and planned our future together. The door was opened for a lovely new way of life.

None of this was a simple matter. Along with the trauma of his getting a divorce, it was further complicated by the fact that this man happened to be ''my boss''. We both had to be very discreet. Neither of us was going into this foolheartedly and neither of us could afford to jeopardize our job. Still another complication arose when he was asked to work in a new office location – which was not accessible without a car. I had never had the means to buy a car, but, nonetheless, he asked me to work for him and said he would make sure transportation would be provided each day....It was – and he was the one who constantly provided it. We shared many happy hours both during and after business. Our future together was becoming more of a reality every day.

Later we were to have a number of misunderstandings and there was an instance where he told me he was going back to his wife. I was shocked. His divorce was already in process. I decided to go off somewhere for a week to collect myself and once again reshape my life. After five days I received a phone call from him asking me to please give him another chance, that he loved me, and would make it up to me. I gave him that chance. The divorce was pushed once again. He began to tell his close friends in business that we were going to be married. We not only picked up where we left off, we shared a closer than ever relationship. The bond between us seemed unbreakable. But it wasn't to be...His wife came on to see him – and again he told me he decided to ''try to make a go of it''. Upset as I was, I steeled myself to go to work with him the next few days. He appeared completely miserable and said he just couldn't go back to her after all. He told her they must complete the divorce. He said he could not wait for me to meet his daughters now. Foolishly, I picked up where we left off and my love still was undying for him. After many months, we had received word from both his and her attorneys that they were ready to take action for finalizing the divorce. That weekend we were especially happy and we had a delightful lunch at a charming spot in the country.

The night before I had prepared a home-cooked dinner for him. He smilingly remarked what a happy life we would have together if I just continued cooking like that.

To this day I shall never know what happened. Suddenly his wife appeared again the early part of the following week. He told me he was going to attempt reconciliation after all and that it was over for us. This was not the final or second real shock yet. I had survived the breakup the first two times and now I must overcome it again. Once more, overwhelmed with chagrin, I visited my cousin for just the weekend this time. It was such a lovely home, sprawling by the beach overlooking a bay. Again I collected myself to face the future. My only request of him was that somehow he continue to provide transportation to work. I realize now that what I should have said was – ''please give me a little time to find another means to commute even if I have to move''. But, at times like this, he was very uncommunicative. He had not even given a reason, nor would he, for this very sudden and shocking change. Upon returning from my trip, I asked my doctor for a prescription for my nerves, and told him why. On the way home from work I picked up the pills at the store.

Next morning I met him outside my apartment building ready for work as usual. I managed to get through the day. But, that night there were many buzzes and knocks on my door. I did not respond as I had gone to bed early. When the knocks and buzzes pounded in my ears, I could not go to sleep. It left me little alternative but to answer the door. I did. There stood both man and wife staring at me. The rest is somewhat vague, but they did come in. I do not recall whether or not I invited them.

Not one word did he utter during their brief visit, but his wife talked continuously. She reprimanded me for having gone out with him, even though he had not been home more than three times in the past two years and during which time their divorce was in process. I was at a loss for words. It was too much to bear.

Then came the full impact – the second blow which I was not yet prepared to handle. As he sat there with nothing at all to say, she pointed her finger at me and said harshly – ''My husband is never to take you to work again''.

Sometime during all this, he had quickly walked out of my apartment. I do not recall at just what point, or why. Everything became hazy.

I do not remember her walking out after that last remark or if anything further was said. I barely recall anything clearly from then on. Before they had arrived, I had set the alarm clock for morning, was ready to sip a cup of decaf coffee along with two tranquilizers to help me fall asleep.

The moment she left I remember a sudden feeling of helplessness overcoming me and an intense fear of losing my job. I am 57 years old. I had always tried to be logical and practical but this time for the first time I had no control over the situation....The decisions were being made for me. I went to the sink, took the bottle of pills up to my mouth, threw back my head until my mouth was full, and with a glass of water swallowed the pills. Being a very thin little pill it was easy to do.

Never before had I done anything impulsively, and to this day it is hard to believe. I was unaware how many I was taking at that time. In fact, not one thought was in my head except I just knew I wanted to forget for a while. Certainly I was not thinking of taking my life ; that I DO KNOW.

My mind seemed to be working rapidly. After taking the pills, my thought was – I must let someone at work know I will not be in the office the next day. I would have to ask someone to call first thing in the morning. I didn't want to do the calling myself until I could think things through, but I was obligated to let my company know. You see, I was not secretary solely for him but for another executive as well. But, before going out my door my head already in a whirl, in a flash I thought I'd better hide the pill bottle just in case something should really happen to me and that might mean my son would lose my insurance. Now, had I been rational, I would have realized any such condition could be diagnosed with or without the pill bottle, especially if an autopsy were made. But I didn't give the matter much thought….I certainly didn't think anything would really happen to me, AND by this time I probably wasn't too coherent.

I threw the bottle in a boot in the back of a closet. Then, using the fire exit, went up the back stairs to the apartment manager's wife on the floor above me.

I know she would be glad to phone my other boss to let him know I would not be at work that day. I wasn't sure what the man I'd been going to marry might now say to those at the office so I prepared to give my own reasons. But I wasn't ready to handle or discuss it if it became necessary...SO having someone also call (just to let them know I was trying to work out a solution to my transportation problem) seemed sufficient to me.

I was unaware that the pills were taking effect. I reached the apartment manager's door and knocked. When his wife came to the door, I gave her instructions for calling the Office. She later told me I was uncoordinated at the time. I hadn't mentioned to her that I'd taken any pills. It didn't even enter my head; it seemed so unnecessary and unimportant. We had become friends in the last few months and I had told her earlier about my previous break ups with him.

After giving her my Company phone number, I turned, started down the fire escape steps and completely blanked out. Miraculously, I did not even hurt myself when I fell. I later found out that I was picked up by a tenant who called for help. I understand I talked a little before arriving by ambulance at the local hospital, but I have no recollection of anything until a few days later. I was unconscious during that period.

So, you see, the second real shock, the shock of my job being in jeopardy after so many years of desperately trying to succeed in making a comeback from a broken marriage , had triggered the pill incident . The Company had been a major part of my life off and on for over twenty years. It was a frightening experience to have it suddenly taken away from me through no fault of my own, and the other blow still too fresh in my mind. I was just not prepared to meet it.

Years ago I had known a man personally who had been through a similar situation, and, after my experience, it brought the thought to me…. TWO BIG SHOCKS, ONE AFTER THE OTHER, can set off a quick and hasty reaction.

This man had just lost his young wife to a terminal disease after a few years of fighting a losing battle. (Leukemia-Hodgkin) Then, less than six months later, his little son died after two operations to try to save him. Shortly after that he took an overdose of tranquilizers. He was with a company that manufactured and distributed these pills to hospitals and drugstores at the time it happened to him, so they were very handy. Before he passed out he had called a friend , who immediately took him to a hospital to have his stomach pumped. Now, that was years ago but I remember him telling me that he had no intention of suicide. It was only after he took them that he realized the seriousness of what he had done.

Believe me, for those of us who survive, I do not believe it could ever occur again. You now know positively what can happen – and you know you could not repeat it.

I am convinced that there are many other people, like myself, who have taken an overdose of pills without realizing the consequences and with no idea of taking their lives.

Unlike people who plan their suicide, fully intending to end their lives, the people like myself are are hit TOO FAST, TOO HARD, and TOO SOON with TOO MANY SHOCKS, and momentarily at least, are completely unaware they are taking a lethal dose of pills. There are many cases, of course, where a person is prone to attempt suicide and may have a history of psychological problems. There are others, who analytically plan and succeed in suicide, leaving a note or papers indicating life has become too burdensome for one reason or another.

Easy access to tranquilizers or sleeping pills can be dangerous. Yet, for me, I know that under no circumstances could it ever happen again. It shocks you into cold reality. Life for me may not be very important but my religion is..and it forbids any such finality. We are all educated enough to know an overdose can KILL, but at a time of shock your mind can become blurred. Knowing the consequences and being sharply aware that if you lose your head you actually can lose your life, no doubt will keep those who have tried it from ever repeating it.

I am now back working with the same Company but at a more convenient location, and the Company has been very good to me. I understand since my return that he became terminally ill shortly after our separation, left the Company to recuperate, but did pass on a few months later. As for me I have no intention of ever dating again, and will try to do my best to live a more spiritual life.

I have written this article hoping my experience may save others who at a time of overwhelming but temporary desperation, might otherwise risk their lives.

…...........

(The one happy note to the above is – he told his Pastor that I had made him see the Light and the Pastor told me he died a Christian).

THE 'HE' IS NONE OTHER THAN former boss of my mother at the then Lavino Shipping Company, now the Inchcape Shipping Services, in Philadelphia Pennsylvania, with offices all over the world, from Mobile, Alabama, to jolly old England. His name was Edwin R. Potter, and he was from Chicago, Illinois. I am not as forgiving as my wonderful 'Christian' mother. Some might argue he converted so he could avoid me kicking the crap out of him in eternity, as I am heading straight for mother fucking HELL. Not a bad argument, even for morons, Chicagoan's, or Dogtownites of any and all breeds and minnina-kalpa sentences. But so much more exists in my mom's tale of tears and pathetic woes, from 1976. Oh lord fucking christ almighty, if anyone had eyes to see and ears to hear. If my mom's fucking relationship had been Gozzwald cosmically permitted to work out, by the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE; can you even start to fathom the fun and cool games LOST TO THE GODS FOREVER? Jesus-God Terry Pennock; No Robin Hill, no ever finding out about lost loves or daughters, no Atco chocking, no lightning and me meeting up in a human lifetime, no lab technicians of power and mystery, and I could literally type on for a fucking ass century and not scratch the surface of it all. ''THEY HAD NO CHOICE'', biting neck-shave Count Marcucci Barnabas Lambrigger Levy Athan, take away my mom being by herself and us deciding to team up since neither of us ever had life skills to make much money individually, so by joining forces, we could live in some really nice places, and I was destined to have the wildest mother fucking ride in hyperspace imaginable, at least in my humble opinion. Talk about the fucking quintessential HYPER SPACE EQUATION, or effects in transdimensional space interactions, hay Margie Leo from 1985, CUT ME A FUCKING BREAK, SWEETIE, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***W—O—W***

Folks, it is the Mountainpen, AKA not my pal the ''Prince'' from the 1980-1999 bomber Squad; but MARK WAYNE MOHR.

In any event, I have been given a message, to stop spreading certain messages; the great highway to hood deal, the truth about any summers of love from the first weekend in July of 1969, and why I was so glad, Brad Messenger, back then; as well as going into my first of two major unheeded warnings, you know, stay away from the shore son, or the beach or the book or the chain or the midnight action reaction, or up closer to present times; the great advice from Barber Billy, on staying by myself, in living situations. I really must learn to listen, as well as obey, the forces that are so much stronger and huger than I can ever possibly be in a million years. Maybe the biggest part of the message is somehow all buried inside of this wild fucking MUSIC CURSE, huh David Zatsman Drums Roth of 1987?????????????

Well, messages don't scare the king of NO-FEELINGS. I have every right to pursue my music, pursue my legitimate justice and legal payback for what has been done to me that makes the entire fucking Holocaust seem tame in comparison to me, but remember, I am naturally going to be quite prejudiced here, as I am the one suffering through this monstrous deplorable fucking hell from the WOMO-MILITUFORCE SCUM SCUKING DIRT BAGS FROM HOT ASS HELL!!!

BURN IN HELL JAG OFFS!!

Laugh-Clowns. I could say more. What I will say is that right before the great stock market shot back up again, when it seemed to be comfortably back under the fifteen thousand basis points level and not shooting back up; this is when this newest assault against me was launched, and quite naturally, this was nothing more than the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE using their nearly 28 year weaponry on me, the ICPE-APE, and look at just how the DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGES shot right back up ultra huge super time, at C-SQ, without daughter websites, trackback-34-cookies, hacking from queens, or Atlantic City-Cifaloglio marriages. Well, that last one belongs together as many marrieds do, you know, Hampton Mrs. Cifaloglio and Atlantic City Political hack rooms at City Hall, and the great RESOURCEFUL Levy family, that the general unbroken down public, is not at all aware of. Another family branch of the almighty TAWF PEEPS, who keep enough secrets from the rest of us, to make ten closet making corporations, endless multi-millionaires. That day in the early autumn of oh-Marola-8, where the Mayor's kid said to me out in the surf on that early morning, while Dawn was at her coo-coo-bird meeting, at the smaller transdimensional Trinidad Nuthouse, up at Pacific and Tennessee Avenues, there in town; he had a few things to tell me. It was like it was all pre-matrix-programmed, AND RELOADED, just waiting and already knowing, that I would be coming down to swim there at that exact time; so he could say what he said and then poof; he catches the next big wave into the shore, a truck is already there waiting with friends; and in a flashy shot, they all drive away, and are gone; vanished like a lovely sunset turning rapidly into darkness.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

Take away the family curse, and what is left to ponder about this thirty-first day of Bostonian weird sports motels, in either September or October? Oh that's right, only thirty days are in September, so tell the Chief, Maxwell Smart, for me; ''Sorry about that''! Still, a lot of powerful shit is in the reality of upline and downline, and you need not be a Tupperware or an Amway distributor, or a future software computer geek and friend of the Roth's; huh Style Court Judge? I really thought you would care that your cousin and his mom were brutally fucking murdered by Mister Jonathan Schau, of Rising Sun Avenue, in Philly; and go over to Drake Towers one night, and kick his old fat ugly ass, from one end of the building, to the other. When I say crap like in the upline world, all of this downline here and anything further downline all together endlessly, must always remain a sum total that is lesser than the smallest possible thing upline and above here; many really are not getting the experience. It's like talking about a super sound system verses hearing one, or watching the famous Vomit Comet on television and really riding and experiencing the thing. Take the numbers of 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, and 1024; for a quick example. Pick an area somewhere in the middle of this number group that endlessly doubles from the lowest possible mathematical integer of one. Let us randomly choose 16, 32, 64. If you go back down lower than the sixteen or the first number in this chosen group, you can go all the way to one, and add up all the numbers, and yet never will it equal or exceed the next doubling upline integer or the number 128. You can go down throughout infinity peeps, you know, after you get to one and it totals up to 127, you can keep adding, one half, one quarter, one eighth, endlessly adding half of the last number, and it NEVER EVER will equal that upline number of 128. You can take an 80 inch super seven grand top end high-def television set, and place a DVD or DVR picture onto it in full reality and splendid vividness and dazzling color, and there it is right before your eyes; a great mountain like the Himalayan Chain, or our own American Rocky Mountains, or Congressman 'Whatever Andrews'-teen; but it is still in all its beauty and splendor; smaller than your 80 inch television. There may be a video shot of the entire galaxy we live in, yet it exists inside of this fixed endless 80 inch diagonal screen. How about if we have a video similar to those horrible audio feedback loops we all have heard once or twice; only instead of the squealing loud high pitched sound from hell; we just see ourselves in our room, watching our wonderful 80 inch screen; and then inside of that, is another and another and another, endlessly? Did you know that I can prove to you in mathematics, that if you in fact make such a loop, the math insists that you are always at a center-line, and all the downlining videos that get endlessly smaller, are balanced by out beyond you, where a you from another upline, in which an entire universe, where our entire universe is smaller than the smallest possible item in theirs; is a you with their 80 inch screen that is just displaying you and all the you's downline below that, and that above this upline you is an infinite amount of higher uplines as well, all displaying their next downlines? Continuing the topic of upline-downline reality, and mathematical equations, that support this wild shit; YO. Start with one or any fraction of one, and double it until you are in the trillions; and add up each of the units, and you will never be able to quite reach the next doubled number above the one that lays directly below the one that you stopped on. The real 'brain breaker', Roger Whatshappening, is this: All the way at infinity, the two numbers going lower as well as higher, actually connect up together, and this point of unimaginable connection, becomes something even more unbelievable. It becomes one dimension spatially higher, than the one that all the numbers below it, all existed on. Shit like this does not get taught in most math classes in Ivy League Universities. This is why folks do not know about or understand the mind realm of the sixth dimension, and how it literally holds itself out beyond its lower dimension; the hyperspace or the fifth dimension of virtually limitless four dimensional space-time universes. This is how on the sixth dimension, we get the equation known as STM or Space-Time-Mind, as below this point, and just as the mighty Einstein said, it is all just Space-Time, but when we raise the Lawtronic reality to its ultimate point, and begin to see how all things are an endless line until they eventually at infinity, carry too much weight, to remain straight; and they bend down, and loop around; and close up into circles, that this is why all things are in circles, orbits, spheres, and so forth; even in our little world of the here and now. But does somebody actually need to go out into the expansion around the Earth, or outer space; in order to cause STME (SPACE-TIME-MIND-EFFECT), ONE MIGHT EVENTUALLY COME TO SERIOUSLY WONDER? The answer, I promise you from personal experience, is an unequivocal NO! Most of the time, you hear me discuss things when one becomes aware of what DREAMS, HYPERSPACE, and EXPLORATRONS, are really all about; and how this can cause H-S-E or HYPER-SPACE-EFFECT. But any disruption from normally running time, causes this. When you drive 50 miles per hour, or just run 15 miles per hour, or just walk 2 miles per hour; you are not at 0. Only 0 is still, where then, you are at an atomicly precise accurate measurement, inside of 'regular time'; and any movement at all; will then place you into movement-effected or non-regular-time. It may be so miniscule that no human in a trillion years could ever begin to measure or witness the effect; but it is there, none the less. If your consciously aware mind, was somehow accelerated one billion times, from where it should be; living here on a world where it takes light or time's reflection, one seventh of one second, to go around this world; you would not be able to physically move. It would take way more than your strength level could ever be; just to move in the tiniest imaginable increments. If you were to suddenly move eleven point eight inches in one second's time; your mass would equal infinity. If you could speed up your conscious mind another thousand times or so; it would begin to merge with infinity itself; and you would be on the sixth dimension, which is why the speed of light, ''is what it is'', god help me; but I truly must quote the great Dawn King here, on that. Seeing this, if you ever could; would permit you to then reverse-think, and see how all orbits everywhere, and all parts of you; are one and the same truth; and that you and gravity itself are really the very same thing, but in a dream state; you can individualize in an illusion, called material physical life; here in the hyperspace of five dimensions. I know this is all Greek to my readers, in their conscious waking mind, but as you read this; you will come closer, in your deeper realer and truer, YOU, to understanding the truths about me, and MORIANITY-FOUNDATION, and all the hell I suffer through at the hands of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, and the one third, evil dark part of it, known Astrally; as the Lambriggers.

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 YO. THIS IS CHAPTER 7.

MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
• Morianity Foundation
• The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version
• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

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

About me:

Gender	Male
Industry	Non-Profit
Occupation	paranormal researcher
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	I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies	all old movies
Favorite Music	most old 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.

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??????????????

''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.

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

WEATHER MAP IS COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG SYSTEM AND LOCAL TV-12

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.

Advisory Colors Key
	Winter Storm Watch
	Flood Warning
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	Flood Statement

LAUGH OLD PAL, MIKE MCNULTY, YO!

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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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!!!!!!!

55555555555555555555555

HELLO WITCH HALLOWEEN SATAN, IHY GUTS!!!!!

55555555555

HELP ME PEE, YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, and now it is NOVEMBER 7.

HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, NJ-USA Home | County News | News Videos | Photo Gallery | Directions | Calendar | A - Z | Contact Search Site: Health Social Services Recreation & Leisure Public Safety County Government Planning & Infrastructure Financial Assistance Education & Employment 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?

So do I plan to tell you all some more about the great coworkers of my mother and her office days at Lavino, Shirley Levinson, and Patricia Hollister, and just how my mother and I decided it might be a good idea for me to go to the office of a certain throat specialist in Northeast Philadelphia, roughly a decade or a tad little more, and in the very same neighborhood practically, as when my Saturn car was completely brutally ripped apart and all my items in it and in the trunk were boosted by hip-hop thugs and total miserable lowlife trash, right my buddy, Sheriff Kenny Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida????????????

Well Mizz Hollister and her friend Santa Claus, or his doppelganger ''look-alike'' aniwho, helped my mom and I move from the Russ Thaxton Chain Steal Trinitrail Apartments of Oaklyn, New Jersey, over to 1118 Linden Hill Apartments, of Lindenwold, New Jersey, in March of 1975. She also is directly quenergy responsible, for my learning and practicing the great Fascitar Ancient Black Art, Huh Steve Pointerplants Earlydinger???????? Well, without delving too deeply into Annie Wilson, her sister, her mama, or her great magic man, or hit record a short while later; I'll merely say that Shirley, Patty's coworker and girl-pal; put me onto this wild medical office just off Grant Avenue, and told me that similar Ron Wirtz Senior, ADA, speech-advice, that even outside of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, ''My answers in this case, to my throat problems, can be found here, just as later, to my SARAH WOES, they can be found, according to the great ADA, out in that lovely mid-western town, also in Pennsylvania. WOW, we're giving you some real ink-fame on this blog, huh William Penn?????

This specialist had a beautiful young technician who seemed to be one of those who I run into quite often, being me and under my family 'situation', call it whatever you like, saying 'curse', makes me look like a Bruce Goldberg nut; so I'll refrain from wording it as such, YO. In any event folks, before I met this doctor, or her; I spoke with her on the telephone, and in those days, all calls were recorded by me, all residences were bugged up, I was the original Dick Nixon, but a secret about even this is stalking the world. President Nixon did not do this, he just continued a recent legacy in the White House. You see, it was really someone in this great TAWF or THAT-FAMILY, that began this great tape-recording of everything tradition, and a great man who never asked what his country could do for him, but rather, concentrically; what he could do for his country, and he did something; he became our thirty-fifth American President. This is a very wild family from beyond the stars. The closest in-link cousin is McGuire, the man we won't talk too much about, a very deadly and dangerous evil powerful man, who can do things that I have witnessed, that send chills up my mother fucking spine, down in fucking ass Atlantic City, New Jersey, well, now I should say up there, now that I am down here, right my friend, DMC? Loud shouting and doors, wow, what a FOOD PUKE DAY followed by ''one of those NEXT DAYS'', here in this hellish PHA!!!!!

Anyway, we had quite a long talk on the phone, later I met her. Now this is the year of 1984. For a long time my seeing her was blocked from conscious memory, only remembering seeing the doctor and not getting any satisfaction for my extremely mysterious medical condition that persists to this very day, over 30 years of this unknown glandular disorder that came on suddenly at 10:30 PM-EDST, on June 4, 1983; while I was residing at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey. The memory that was lost somehow, came in a wild dream about two weeks ago, around the very same time all of this persecution started re-exploding in my face, after a tiny let-up period. When I got there, I sat down and had a very short wait, a rare occurrence in any medical office in most places anywhere in the USA. I signed in a normal patient-book and sat down, and she walked up to me and told me how she had enjoyed speaking with me a while back, and that she tried calling me before but did not have my PCN. I gave it to her, it was, and I still remember it, as it matched the apartment number I lived at in Robin Hill, number 506. She never called back, and I found out that she had been called back to some other location, when I called to inquire months later, and spoke to another assistant of this specialist. She went onto add that she was not doing this type of work and was back in school. My mother then told me something an entire year later one night over dinner during a heated debate and very strange conversation, while we were living in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, in the early spring time of 1985. I was telling her about these recurring dreams where I was some sales rep manager for some regional area that was not around here, for the S-DAY LAUDER Company, however it really is spelled. She insisted that I couldn't be having these dreams while I stared at her like a mad man most likely, I was extremely pissed off. I remember throwing my entire plate against the wall, filled with oozing gravy from mashed potatoes and gravy and some kind of steak dinner, and I even recall now the vegetable, it was a pile of Fordham Lima Beans. The hacking is heavy, as this blog may disrupt the entire universe for a short time. I may just need a new fucking mouse, so it can always be the more rational explanation. It seems to go on rolls where it won't respond to clicks. Aniwho, the fight was over Connie Chung and you don't need to know more about this rotten whore or something evil that she did in 1978, but my mother and my ex-pal Jim Burr had both vehemently taken her side against me, and then this spun around to my dreams about being manager of this company and how I was traveling city to city and not liking the situation because it involved lying to the government about a major 'something' and I have a major aversion about ending up in federal or any kind of prison. This is when my mom went almost nuts, telling me I cannot be dreaming this, it is just not possible, and there was no rationality for her bizarre nutty fucking ass behavior that seemed to bounce right out of freaking left field. LSS, she insisted this was as wild as my insisting the lab technician at the throat specialist office was only 14 years old and disguised to appear 10 years older, but admitted to me her true age, and that she knows me from a very large city that is further away than can be explained. I said, ''mom, I never fucking told you that'', yet she continued to insist that I had been saying this for months to her. Then she broke into a powerful angry diatribe over how her coworker Shirley did me a favor, and I am being difficult, insisting this other nurse or whatever she really was, had told me this over the phone, remember all shit was bugged back then. After she had cleaned up the kitchen mess disaster done at that time intentionally by me in a fit of total fucking rage; she said, ''Mark, I know how you can prove me wrong, don't you tape everything, let me hear some of your tapes, knowing you, you probably had one of those tiny recorders in your pocket at the doctor's office that day''. I got so angry again, I remember shoving the dining room table completely over, grabbing a lamp and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and the light bulb to pieces. I said I don't skulk around like that, I only have tapes from the phone, and what I am taping right now of all of this. She then screamed at me and said, ''what did you tape on the phone''? I came back with something along the lines of, ''I'll find some conversations with this 14 year old lab teck and play them for you, just give me a few days, as all my life-journals are in numerical tape, as well as chronological, perfect order. The next night she came back from her job, and she told me Shirley is real mad at me because I caused trouble at the laboratory. I then was ready to literally punch my mom's lights out. I calmed myself down, and said to her, ''shut fucking up and listen to this tape where I tell this very teck over the phone last year, that my condition has certain symptoms and how I try to manage and play with doses of various meds and she eventually gave me driving directions to the place and told me to be there a week from that day''. Then my mom screamed back that, ''Shirley said you couldn't of been there that day next week, the doctor is a personal friend of her father's and they were on some kind of a convention-vacation somewhere together''. I then threw our last remaining lamp that was not just there for show and unbroken, hard, onto the floor, shattering it to pieces, and I screamed that ''she and Shirley are nuts and to go to fucking hell''. When I went off to my security job that night, and 555555555555-555555555555-555555555-55555555555555-555555555-55555555-compensates for another fucking JANE WITCHBITCH ATTACK WITH PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, as this total fucking whore is on a MONSTER ASS NON RECORDED ROLL FOR HURTING ME RECENTLY with these fucking ass ones everywhere, dam ass bitch whore, YO; ANIWHO yo dogs, GETTING BACK TO THE TOPIC HERE; gear shift grind, gear shift grind; what is this early October of oh-eight or late fucking October of thirteen, oh great fuzzy quantum particles of space-time-mind transdimensional quenergies??????????? So I go off to my job at Petty's Island, and come home upset after a night of a lot of coworker problems with real major fucking jerk offs, and the 'shandaleer' in my mother's bedroom had fallen down and had smashed to pieces all over the floor. SUCK MY CUNT EATING PRICK MICROSUCKS SPELL CHECKER, YOU TOTALLY STUPID FUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP; I tried spelling that word in single quotation marks ten ways, and nothing worked, you all know what fucking fell down in early 1985 from my mom's fucking ass bedroom, YO. Even as far back as this, this was the Washcloth Family's way of letting me know to let go of this, and to keep my mouth shut. But it DAWNED on me shortly in the future, that I had included the tape as one of my copyrighted so called accidental flip sides, using the © Office as a time capsule, in all of this, to protect me and vindicate me with all this out of this world shit that just began happening all around me ever since leaving 1802 Robin Hill Apartments of Voorhees, New Jersey, my first of three times residing in these apartments, to move to the Atco home, on February 1, 1983; and on that same day, open up the box containing the Privecode Machine, from the IMM Corporation with the so-called alien-guts inside, as was told to me by a pal of my ex-business partner, PP, while we all were in a local country bar, now burned down since that time, along with many other great history markers. Good old fire, certain things are greater constants than the speed of fucking light, folks, I will argue that with anyone of you, now, later, or ever, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! If you think this story stops here, you are dead wrong. The dream from two weeks ago included some family members and they told me I was an asshole for not remembering, that they did not make me forget any of this. This is what was spoken to me in this wild dream that I did not dare to talk about for fear of the hell I'd be put through, and that hell came around all over me, anyway, it seemingly did not fucking matter whether I'd kept my mouth shut or not, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Then they showed me a photograph of the medical office and me sitting in the very same light green colored chair, they were recording it all along, whoever this washcloth family really is. I thought that I would get a stroke right in ''the dream''. The lab teck was a very young high school girl, the great Mariah Carey, only then, she was a girl in a long island school, and that was it. Still, I know for a fact, that she has other great disguises to this very day, one in particular that I have seen her in, but if I spill the beans, I know she'll come over here and kick the fucking crap out of me personally, and that we don't need, so I won't say more, other than, I know Resorts Hotel of Atlantic city knows, as they saw it all go down that day, in real time; or maybe that was distant cousin Trump's Plaza; the more I think of it. If my memories did not fuzz out a bit, I would be totally fucking nuts after all the shit this entire family, and all its extended wild branches, have pulled now; for 30-60 years. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten off that jitney bus that day, at the grammar school, on Richland Avenue, in South Atlantic City; Dad!!!

MARK WAYNE MOHR OF MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3:

O—H S—H—I—T FOLKS, THIS IS ONLY GETTING STARTED. THWE ONE PERSON WHO CAN VINDICATE ME WON'T, LOVELY TRAVELER ISIS, GEE, WHAT A WONDERFUL TREE ANGEL FROM JACOBSON COOLEY HALL, MISTER MAYOR'S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'M DEAD ASS SERIOUS TOO, WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

55555555555555555555555555

Well GINA my lovely pretty NON GOZZWALD NIGHT-LADY of the nineties; I TOLD YOU. Let me have a major fucking disaster like last evening, and KAFUCKINGPOW, YO, THE DOW JONES MARKETS SHOOT WAY UP; AND NO SHOCK TO ME WHATSOEVER.

I had a wild time exploring the hyperspace, (doing very active lucid aware dreaming), interrupted by one major fire alarm, but they come and go on rolls, and I must confess, recently these monster-sirens from Non-Disney, are cutting me a break; hence, it's time again, Sir Barnabas Leviathan Lambrigg, so here we go. I will get into a little bit of my experiences, perhaps, but right off, I wish to discuss a few small items that I feel more pertinent for this day, we can always get back to this, Jim Rockford, as you well know, ouch, YO Maverick. Speaking of those named Jim, I don't need someone or something to ever inform me, that Jim Burr seemed to have some innate insight into my family, and stuff generally about it and its connectedness to me and my poor shadows from hell, if permitted to use and alter some very once well known song lyrics. Me and my shadow huh, oh well, wash your hands, Shadow Man of the 1984 Copyright Office. AHA-AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY FROM 1971. I was going to save this for later, but now I am telling this right now, SINCE SHIT IS SO DANGEROUSLY BAD FOR ME RIGHT NOW. They know Diana cannot protect me, and has been slowly fading away around me and has been, and will not be around again any time soon. These fucking monsters have totally altered and somehow magically destroyed my hurricane attacks ever since the Katrina Hurricane Season a number of years back. There really is no more hurricane season, it is all a total joke, as I have been in fucking Florida for nearly four mother fucking years, and can say it openly, IT ALL IS JUST MEDIA HYPE, ALL OF IT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PEOPLE ARE ALL TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING NUTS. The entire mother fucking world has gone insane. Nothing has been normal since I died and WENT TO FUCKING HELL, back on August fifteenth of 1986, and recently this hell is going right off the charts bonkers. This is what I was going to tie in, but I need to be careful, as time is catching up with me, Dave Sleazespeas, AND HYPERSPACE IS ALSO GOING INTO RAPID PRINT THROUGH, ESPECIALLY OVER THE PAST FEW WEEKS AND MONTHS; AND IT APPEARS TO BE ON SOME WILD PARABOLIC COURSE OF INCREASE.

I did not mention Darius from the Harvest on my prior blog for no reason, helter-skelter out of the blue, and comparing his PCN with that of Paula Belinda King. You see, if you go to his wonderful YOUTUBE PAGE, clicking the search box and typing Deezy Slim; you will see that he came over here at a specific time to help me with my own crappy YOUTUBE PAGE, that is now gone, and good riddance. He makes no bones about the importance of strings of number ones, such as November the eleventh, back then in twenty eleven. Back in 1988, on the eighth of August, I sold that property that my blogs talked about where I bugged my own automobile and got a realtor engaged in a conversation, beating old mighty Joe Berrios to the punch a year or two later over at the mother fucking Echelon Towers Public Housing Building, in Voorhees, New Jersey. Then 20 years after that in 2008, to the day, came that powerful EXPLORATRONIC ACTIVITY where I was at the Lakehouse for the first of several times that followed that time, and they all know that I think I know two huge powerful secrets about my wonderful daughter, and of course, if you have a tiny clue from reading this, my advice is to join the Regis Club, and BE CAREFUL; as this KEN CLAN are all powerful exploratronic sociopaths in my humble opinion, and would not blink an eye to light you up, and not in small rooms in the early seventies. Darius dated the girl who went onto fire me on the following first week in March, which would be 2012, and she always hated me from the day she met me, for her own reasons, good old lovely Jessica. I do not claim to understand why everyone is doing what they are doing, but Quantum Physics is very powerfully involved in the mix. There is no way all of this is not a part of some gargantuan Astral or subatomic realm force that is totally unknown still to any of the greatest minds of 2013. We collide particles at high speeds and can observe a lot of things, but to my knowledge, any attempt at communicating with these sentient forces, especially the electron or as the Christians would call it in their blind ignorance, the Holy Spirit; has yet to be done. I began doing this in 1983 and have had the wildest ride in the universe ever since. But all that can wait, as my point right now is Darius and his print-through connections with the KEN, and before I ''wash my hands'' of all of this once and for all, all will be said and told. I can be a quintessential rat out when I need to be, ask another great and lovely Jessica!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, Flo and Poolbox, and others; last twelfth of December ended these nasty ass dated numeric combo entities, as there is no thirteenth month. Still, lots of magic lies in why Darius came over out of the blue after I had been asking him for half a year, and offering him plenty of doe. There are reasons for those wild interactions both in June and August of oh-eight, and on and on I could go. Tomorrow, I'll be asking Gawky Gaukauk why this horrible fucking botbar day struck me today, especially with these illegal fucking jit bag nabes from across the hell hall.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC, OPEN COMMAND ON GENERAL ORDER-7. Use all orders, all tecks, scan all enemies, and destroy them, and here are the two tones, scan my voice print on the sound of the 'E'.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

G-901, G-1133, under CG18, G-189, CG-39, AND STOP!

TOTAL PROOF BEYOND ANY DOUBT OF MY RIGHTS BEING TOTALLY VIOLATED BY THE FORCES OF BIG BUSINESS, JUST AS ADA RON WIRTZ CCPO TOLD ME EARLY IN THE NINETEEN-NINETIES AT HIS PROSECUTOR OFFICE IN CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY.

The Continuation of the 'Epitome of Harassment'

Sunday, September 15, 2013

EPILOGUE OF PART 5

MY CIVIL AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, MY FIRST AMENDED CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS ARE IN MAJOR JEOPARDY, AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION. WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME?

FOLKS, CLICK ONTO THE SECOND TO THE LAST BLOG WHERE I PROVE TO YOU THAT BY CLICKING ONTO THE DOW JONES CHARTS ''ONE MONTH'' SHOWN AS '1 m' YOU CAN SEE HOW THE ATTACK ON ME IS TOTALLY REFLECTIVE WITH THE REALITY OF THE ACTIVITIES AND TRADES ON WALL STREET. IT BOTTOMED OUT RIGHT AS THEY POURED ON THIS MAJOR INTENSE DEATH SIEGE FOR MANY MANY DAYS, AFTER IT GOT SO BAD, ALL 1983 WILD TUNES NOTWITHSTANDING, U.S. COPYRIGHT OFFICE.

SO I WAS JUST UP ON THAT BLOG, AND THE CHARTS HAVE BEEN DEACTIVATED BY SOMEONE, OBVIOUSLY BY THE WALL STREET FRIEND AND PARTNER, MICROSOFT-BLOGGER, THEMSELVES. YET IF YOU GO INTO MY OWN DOCUMENTS, THE CHARTS WILL STILL SHOW UP WHEN YOU LOOK BACK TO THOSE DOCUMENTS.

THEY WILL KILL FUCKING ME, WORLD COURT AT THE HAGUE, BEFORE THEY'LL ALLOW ME TO PRIVE THE CRIME AGAINST MY PERSONAL PART OF HUMANITY, FOR 30 YHEARS, WITH THIS NIGHTMARE PERSECUTION TO KEEP THEIR FIXED AND DISEASED ECONOMY RUNNING ENDLESSLY BULLISH AND STRONG. THIS IS TOTAL CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR, AND NOW MICROSOFT HAS BECOME MOTHER FUCKING COMPLICID IN IT, AND WHEN I EVENTUALLY AM ABLE TO SECURE ME AN ATTORNEY TO FIGHT ALL THIS AND SUE FOR 50 BILLION SMACKS SOMEDAY, THIS PLAYS RIGHT INTO MY FUCKING CUNT LAPPING HANDS.

THANKS FOR BEING MORE PART OF THE PROBLEM THAN THE SOLUTION, MIZZ BONDI, FLORIDA AG. ANYONE WHO KNOWS SOMEONE IS IN BIG TROUBLE AND STANDS IDLY BY WHILE EVIL PERSISTS AND GROWS, IS AN ENCORAGER OF SOCIOLOGICAL CANCER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

• 1d
• 5d
• 1m  -----------------JUST CLICK ON THIS BULLET HERE, FOLKS.
• 3m
• 6m
• 1y
• 2y
• 5y
• max
• 
  

customize chart NOW KEEP READING, AND FOLLOW THESE EXACT INSTRUCTIONS.

AdChoices

		2.00%
MRK	45.95	1.01%
XOM	90.14	0.98%
BAC	13.02	0.85%
DIS	67.20	0.79%
JNJ	85.76	0.72%

» More Index Components

NOW HERE IS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO FOLKS. CLICK BELOW ON THE WORD ''DOW'', IT IS IN blue font, just to the left of a GREEN ARROW POINTING UPWARD.

Now, simply click on the bullet area after the DOW JONES CHART comes up, that will show you a one month chart, it shows this as ''1m''.

 Dow  0.24% Nasdaq  0.80%

Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 1:08 PM No comments:

Labels: AMITTYVILLE FATES, BEING SLOWLY COVERTLY MURDERED, CROOKED SEC, ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, PARALLEL EVENT, UNFAIR BUSINESS PRACTICES, Wall Street

Enemies, who R they?

SIMPLE, FOLKS, THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, WHO ELSE????

By By for now, big SARAH-CALLIO-COW-KALI-KAL.

posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 9:31 AM

_{0 Comments: A planet of drones, why does this not shock me, Steve Moroni?}

_{********************MORIANITY WILL BE WINDING DOWN, AND ENDING.**************************}

_{There is no way to win, and since my old pal, Jerry Brown, who kicked Mister Muscles out of office, has made the minimum wage ten dollars hourly in his great state, I am getting packed up tonight, throwing this computer off the jetty and into the drink, and heading for mother fucking sunny CALIFORNIA. When Mikey gets from his Miami trip, he will soon learn that I have gone, and left for better pastures. I can get a security-guard license out there, live in a public housing building out there, get better care as Florida ranks quite low in the national average, and get a nice ten dollar per hour 16 hour security job to supplement my lousy 995 in bennies now, 16 in food and 979 in SSD. But with another 1000 monthly, two instead of one, merely working a soft job for two days, I can tell the world to go to fucking hell, no more family, no more blogs, no more fucking evil daughters on my back, or educational exploratron technicians, or whatever they really may be, you all mighty creators and gods of the great DSM-5. Bye-Bye and good mother fucking riddance. My Goddess, HOW TIME KEEPS CHANGING AND REARRANGING THINGS, MAN OH MAN. THE ULTIMATE PARLOR TRICK IS NOT TIME ITSELF, BUT YOU'RE WILLINGNESS TO SO STEADFASTLY AGREE TO BEING SO TRAPPED HELPLESSLY, IN ITS NORMAL RUNNING FLOW. IN HYPERSPACE, YOU TAKE OVER A DOPPELGANGER AND REMEMBER YOU ARE PURE ENERGY INSIDE OF A MASS-DOUBLE, IF YOU WANT TO BECOME A HUGE SAUCER OR JUST LEAP INTO THE AIR AND FLY, NO LAW IN PHYSICS IS THERE TO STOP YOU FROM DOING SO, SO HAVE A BLAST. Y do you all live so limited? Jesus Christ Almighty Goddess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}

_{[[{{((5555555555555555555555555555))}}]]}

_{This FLORIDA SHIT has been total fucking HELL!}

_{Time to toss this bullshit right into the cosmic 'L&O' trashcan!!}

MORIANITY-FOUNDATION OF 2006

CREATED IN 1995 BY MARK WAYNE MOHR IN WHAT ONCE, WAS A REAL WORLD UNTIL I GOT ZAPPED MAGICALLY INTO HERE, WHEREVER THAT IS; AS I PROMISE ALL OF YOU, THAT I CERTAINLY DO NOT KNOW; AND WILL NOT LIE ABOUT IT.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS

This will be the ultimate final Morianity book on the internet. This project was not interpreted by me correctly. I admit that I believed that I had been led by higher powers beyond the mortals and their waking world, after being shown and directly told by the GODS of the ASTRAL PLANE, not space aliens, or other misguided concepts of those connected with the Ancient Astronaut Theories; but the actual lighter worlds of higher reality, and those who rule and reign there. I was wrong. I was being told and shown stuff all right, that is not in dispute, at least within myself. But if this was honestly being directed, BY THEM, then this project would have a real true following and not a couple dozen government agents just playing with me, and messing with my head; along with my own horrible family, and that of my no good daughter, if indeed in this part of HS, she is; and until I can be guaranteed a reliable trustworthy DNA test, Mister Baggage Jerrycoils, I believe I am this person's father, and right here in this universe. There is too much hyperspace effect for me to believe anything to the contrary, yet it still could all be just a shameful horrendous continuation and latest episode, in these games played by these very vicious and heartless Astral Gods. Late in 2007, somewhere late in the BLOG-BOOK called, RATS TATS & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL, and the BLOG-BOOK called, THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION; is a magical night where I had a powerful ''dreaming-experience'', and all dreams that occur at Dellway Arms Apartments in Oaklyn, New Jersey, in Apartment Number O-15, where I physically resided from mid summer time of 1969 through the 28^th day in February in 1975; and the longest place that I ever lived until I moved on Halloween Day of 2000 into Jenny Garbageslut Plageman's Mullica Mobile Manor Trailer Park, in Mullica Township, New Jersey, right outside and just east of Hammonton, in New Jersey, and remained there until my STOCKHOLM KIDNAPPING INCIDENT began in August of 2008, and I was then out of there and at 65-A Middle Road, in a home owned by the Hammonton, New Jersey Judge, Frank Raso, held against my will at threat and intimidation levels, by a FAMILY STRAIGHT OUT OF THE FOURTH GATES OF DOGTOWN PERIMETERS, you would say the word ''HELL''. For now, all you need to know is that I am planning to move far out of Florida, far out of the entire United States, and very far away where I cannot continue to be endlessly mistreated until the day of my pathetic fucking death, by these washcloths from HAY-DEES, Spell Checker is worthless, you know the word!

I honestly thought this was what a higher power wanted. I just follow the leads, the facts, and the GAME, but the joke as always was on mother fucking me, peeps. I am the joke, and the name of the Darren McGavin game is Mark The Joke. Well, fine; but I refuse to play along, so basicly, fuck you all. Before I go on, the MOUSE-HACK is bad, and since it comes and goes or is a seemingly intermittent problem, forgive my paranoia, as I believe this to be being done by mother fucking hackers. Why is it not always happening if this is not the case? Also, I had a yellow triangle caution display in my bottom screen icon box for internet access at half past the previous hour that I might confuse by saying 1:30, but yes; as you all know, 2 AM switches back to 1 AM when we fall back into the standard time; so it was 1:30 a half hour before starting the blog around 1:00; without any help from Orson Wells, or lovely Weena. I was hit with a nasty shit attack yesterday, Saturday from the time I got up in the early afternoon, and is still somewhat unfuckingcomfortable. But I could not access my internet, and when I tried; loud shouting came from somewhere, I am not certain and positive if it was from outside of the building past my sixth floor windows; or inside the building in a unit occupied by these scum bag neighbors from hell, but it was timed 100%, so my trying to log on, was interfering in my opinion; with whatever they were doing, while illegally pirating my legally AT&T paid for bandwidth and wireless receiving box. Only when things are normal do I get the upper three green lights on this box steady and not flashing. The two main hacks right now are the same fucking shit that used to happen all the time when I blogged with it, Eddie Lynch Himacane's laptop, back in the fucking twenty-ohs, and these would be, the spacing bar fucking up, causing shit like, 'an dthese', or 'spacin gbar', stuff like that, and also when I left click the mouse to do something, it does not respond. Everything they do to me will be reported on these final blogs, FOR THE RECORD, IN OR NOT IN FUCKING 1984, © OFFICE ALMIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew shit was around the corner with the WOMO-MILITUFORCE, as I have not been hit with a major telephone attack in a while, and around early yesterday morning before falling off to sleep, a loud illegal civil rights violating SQUEAL was suddenly heard on my receiver. If it was within my power, I would sue the utility company; as they have already damaged my fucking hearing, with these attacks. I do plan to discuss it with an attorney, but common sense tells me I'll fucking cunt lapping get no place at all. Nobody gives a fucking shit if I live or die.

I promise you I am not your fool, whoever all my enemies are out here; and these blogs shortly will not be blogs. They will be written for the record yes, but never publicly published anyplace. If I did not go to hell on August 15 of 1986, then I went there earlier, when this shit all began to happen that was told by me to Joe and Andy, from the Haddonwood Swim and Health Club, owned in 1996 by Tony Zenun, and closed down without so much as a day notice, for reasons that have to do with a secret so huge, it may just dwarf ANYTHING IN FUCKING ATLANTIC CITY, and Billy and Sally, THAT'S FUCKING SAYIN' SOMETHING, yo!

I asked my viewers to plug me, and they refused to help. I asked them to communicate with me, and they refused to do so. I asked them to listen to my Youtube music, and again, they said no. Well, I'd fight and die on any battlefield on the planet for their freedoms and rights, but I'd also do the same for mine as well; and I am now free to say, OK, fine, this short book of perhaps 10-50 chapters will conclude the Morianity Internet Project. It was a total failure, and I never had any followers at all, just enemies. If you by some wild chance ever get this mother fucking message, retired ADA Ron Wirtz Senior, of the CCPO, in New Jersey; you told me to do stuff, and I did all the stuff you told me to do, and it all failed. No one helped me, no one listened to me. No one believed me. The reasons are only within two possibilities. I died and went to hell in the eighties, and can never really die out of this fucking nightmare that goes beyond any possible words; or the GODS have cursed me through this family of fucking hell; and just as the torch that was passed to me by Herbert Huntington's son Arthur, husband of Alice Gallagher of Chicago, Illinois; I now with absolutely no fucking pun meant whatsoever, ''carry'' this monster-ass thing on my back. When I am eventually gone, another member within my family will be forced totally against their mother fucking will to take the torch from my maggot filled hand. May the GODS take pity on whomever this poor bastard may be. It could be anyone at all, just so long as they are male. There is no age limit, merely that they are in this fucked up ass family, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tiger Tiger firelight burning bright, Russ Thaxton. I did not push her off the pier in this parallel universe, yo!

I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, THE DOW JONES WOULD BE AT ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS; BUT NOBODY EVER BELIEVES ME. I ALSO TOLD YOU WHEN THE HELL STARTED WITH ME AGAIN AROUND THE MIDDLE OF THE MOTHER FUCKING MONTH, AND IT WAS LOWER AND BACK DOWN JUST A BIT; THAT IT WOULD SWING RIGHT BACK UP INTO NEW RECORD HIGH TERRITORY, AS A RESULT OF MY CUNT LAPPING SEVERE MOTHER FUCKING PERSECUTION. THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON SINCE AUGUST FIFTEENTH, OF NINETEEN EIGHTY SIX, AND I AM POWERLESS TO GET ANY OF THIS FUCKING UNFATHOMABLE NIGHTMARE STOPPED, OR BELIEVED AT ALL FOR THAT MATTER. LIEUTENANT COMMANDER JORDY, OF THE NEXT GENERATION STAR TREK TELEVISION SHOW, PUT THIS A LOT BETTER, ON THAT EPISODE OF 'STAR TREK', CALLED, ''TIME SQUARED''; IF I AM NOT MISTAKEN; ''SOUNDS LIKE SOMEBODY'S IDEA OF HELL''. WELL, THIS AIN'T NO MOTHER FUCKING IDEA, LIEUTENANT COMMANDER JORDY, THIS IS ACTUALLY LITERALLY HAPPENBING THE FUCK TO ME, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING MORIANITY PART 6, CHAPTER 43. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY, YO!!!

MY DAY, AS ALWAYS; TOTALLY FUCKING SUCKS, YO !!!!!

http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/

WEATHER-MAP BROUGHT TO YOU BY WEATHERBUG AND CHANNEL 12 LOCAL TV.

Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

Advisory Colors Key
	Winter Storm Watch
	Flood Warning
	Non-Precipitation Advisory
	Flood Statement

LAUGH OLD PAL, MIKE MCNULTY, YO!

http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/

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

_{No more Mister Nice-Guy. It's time now for me to spill the beans all out of the fucking can, and really begin to talk. You see, if it was not for Shirley sending me to a powerful strange medical office off of Grant Avenue in 1984, the entire universe as we know it here on this atomic signature, would be way different. How would any of fucking you like it if one day you woke up fucked up through no fault of your own, and began slowly piecing together a story that tells your truth and your reality, that all the textbooks ever written in psychiatry all insist, that believing this powerful indisputable evidence, makes you a crazy insane person filled with psychotic features and delusions? Well, one thing you would do, knowing you are not being permitted to work anywhere by this invisible stealthy mother fucking covert enemy; you would get onto SOCIAL SECURITY DISABILITY, and at least force these enemies to pay you each month, for causing this problem with you, in the first place. Well YO, I did that, kind folks!!!!!}

HERE ARE SOME POWERFUL YOUTUBE VIDS, ALL HAVING SIMILAR SHIT AND NIGHTMARE PROBLEMS, OF MOUNTAINPEN MARK WAYNE MOHR, ENJOY AT YOUR CLICKING CONVENIENCE.

http://youtu.be/b7SDlGBxgLs

http://youtu.be/yhbXDDSPkos

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQPoNT0RQDs&feature=share&list=PL3FD8D98A43AA899D

http://youtu.be/RDDfkKEa2ls

http://youtu.be/6MUYsIjTKvk

http://youtu.be/4ct5_5kzh_0

http://youtu.be/IxDD4pfIa3I

http://youtu.be/q-r4DGx04gI

http://youtu.be/lOTc91lHbbQ

http://youtu.be/qrDM9NbgJHM

http://youtu.be/S8Bm6ydU6Fw

http://youtu.be/PBEO0PgA1mY

http://youtu.be/0sQhiHwdMXc

http://youtu.be/e_SG3Hg2Q8c

http://youtu.be/Vfc0lEnxEWs

http://youtu.be/w-AW5l6XqaQ

http://youtu.be/o0gBoV0ygJc

http://youtu.be/O9wXZ06Pqfg

http://youtu.be/7uMUQWuq9XI

http://youtu.be/iFR0w6wcXeQ

http://youtu.be/D0T1Vi4mDJY

http://youtu.be/Vyn73ARRKls

http://youtu.be/fOthspc9cIE

http://youtu.be/tW4nyzXPDbE

http://youtu.be/HZ_W3EAfp6I

http://youtu.be/30KfPtHec4s

http://youtu.be/G-R8LGy-OVs

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

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http://youtu.be/tL_Ea-LWwAc

http://youtu.be/jsTaF5gWDpM

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http://youtu.be/payut3pRR_Q

http://youtu.be/8pibXy_prlE

http://youtu.be/7t9FRelqEf8

http://youtu.be/EEhbqRm7-1Q

http://youtu.be/2xH_0w5H9tM

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http://youtu.be/1QztwBzcVaw

http://youtu.be/MwqdK1V1kOk

http://youtu.be/a5mYFJ4irxM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbXMQOulkpA&feature=share&list=UU6bGMnAB0bt7za034r8syAg

http://youtu.be/GiSauu_aJRw

http://youtu.be/GAXzicwhcHI

http://youtu.be/bfke97PmDa4

http://youtu.be/TOaSGmQjkq0

http://youtu.be/sGQS343GIsg

http://youtu.be/Xh0DTfXWXrQ

http://youtu.be/1sMnB45JJG8

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/tx65EeLk4Ro

http://youtu.be/lOTc91lHbbQ

http://youtu.be/NxpO-qu51pE

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/XIB564U1RV4

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

http://youtu.be/PQ1B29G7ujg

http://youtu.be/nqQwrHoRuAE

http://youtu.be/jf0khstYDLA

http://youtu.be/syvQkviPdDE

http://youtu.be/pPdOK9w2P00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNqUnDzL5q8&feature=share&list=SP4FBBE16E3FAACDBA

http://youtu.be/RbF5tBCBRr0

http://youtu.be/TKvDcoE8AGc

http://youtu.be/SzH7HJLEJmc

http://youtu.be/VVJldn_MmMY

http://youtu.be/O90lSMmTjjo

http://youtu.be/5cecky3pvxc

http://youtu.be/4RXPJmqkxmI

http://youtu.be/8zYM-unUeNY

http://youtu.be/-3_SYhito-k

http://youtu.be/WbM3AnGupyc

http://youtu.be/ioktO7d-jvs

http://youtu.be/_V-LkoGhEfQ

http://youtu.be/o6KctnOYCVo

http://youtu.be/o6KctnOYCVo

http://youtu.be/bDkXugVdYAE

http://youtu.be/aYk6y32z63Y

http://youtu.be/TOaSGmQjkq0

http://youtu.be/eCRDN2ZwVNQ

http://youtu.be/eCRDN2ZwVNQ

http://youtu.be/UhtKFHVwaOQ

http://youtu.be/F-8G9PbMZaI

http://youtu.be/zVC1qDZm4bA

http://youtu.be/ljRKhZ81aqY

http://youtu.be/8VIQgQVumB4

http://youtu.be/8VIQgQVumB4

http://youtu.be/xRSjzY0s0SM

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/AtGykw-GQEE

http://youtu.be/hH0A4zj-pYQ

http://youtu.be/plQ4wrZvGlI

http://youtu.be/Jx52Z9DrFeY

http://youtu.be/eGguwYPC32I

http://youtu.be/e7D3_eGaO5k

http://youtu.be/JgALlSPlZC8

http://youtu.be/dMKCldqkoHw

http://youtu.be/cGmLRSWuUwY

http://youtu.be/ZPP54S_0WS0

http://youtu.be/OUZktdjy2w0

http://youtu.be/qF1dRiqrR1Y

http://youtu.be/Ik6tx63lVEI

http://youtu.be/PBEO0PgA1mY

http://youtu.be/SQnduidUkfw

http://youtu.be/SQnduidUkfw

http://youtu.be/7FyEZD-FwKw

http://youtu.be/Ik8gEKzhsao

http://youtu.be/i28Fh6nTGyQ

http://youtu.be/hdMKVXsYeos

http://youtu.be/xducBSS0zwE

http://youtu.be/_2fkjQoUt-o

http://youtu.be/slu9mxb2awU

http://youtu.be/PQ1B29G7ujg

http://youtu.be/HwFcjuXkjRQ

http://youtu.be/XIB564U1RV4

http://youtu.be/VqPXUOuPgKk

http://youtu.be/dMKCldqkoHw

http://youtu.be/V01iOLbL72k

_{WELL FOLKS, TAKE CARE UNTIL WE MEET ON MY NEXT BLOG! SO LONG AND NON-SEPTEMBER BYE-BYE, PEEPS, BACK LATER WITH A LOT MORE!!!!!!!!!}