MAJOR DEATH SIEGE BOTBAR, GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 3

GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 3

1:39 AM, 4 NOVEMBER, 2013

I managed to get through another fucking weekend, hip hip hurray for freaking me.

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, Russ and Count Shaves.

Back on Wednesday, Mikey called me out of the blue and we are speaking again, and I learned a lot of shit from him on many subjects. In a nutshell, his sales job sucks and as most all of them do, promised him truckloads of money if he would put in the time, and he did, and the effort I might add; and only got a pittance out of it, and is why he for a while was behaving kind of fucked up, I cannot say I blame him. I learned that the mighty Harvest and many of the self righteous arrogant pigs from there, all as the mighty normally do eventually, FELL. I really hope the NSA and the FBI and all of the so-called caring authorities of this nation, are aware just how powerful this fucking drug culture is. You won't stop it, that I'll promise. On top of that, people are hooked on all kinds of dope and booze that you never in a million years would suspect they are. Not everyone shows their physical symptoms as prominently as a majority of users and drunks do. All I can say is a lot of git bags got what they deserved and I am incredibly fucking disappointed in all of them, as human beings first, and secondly, as peeps I had been somewhat close to in my daily associations a few years ago.

Yes fucking sir, people, I learned a lot of powerful shit back on Sunday afternoon, up at Mikey's place. Also, I visited with the wonderful Atlantic Ocean and told her just how much I love her, and she told me she loves me too and to quit being such a pathetic wimpy non-believer, and that she has my back, if I just stop causing trouble and keep my fucking mouth shut a little bit more. She's right. I hear her inside what you might call, ''my soul''. It is not an audible sound, nor is it just my own thoughts, as your own thoughts come to you in the same sound as your own speaking voice, am I right people, or am I wrong, think about it a second.

Now the main problem I am having in this building is totally supernatural. This is no different in its base point, as is my PPC or persecution-pussy-command when I am under days and days of very heavy aerial siege from planes and chemtrails, etcetera. Today by the way was small for going to visit with anyone, as normally, I get bombarded whenever I do the least little thing 'socially'. There was one plane that was loud and low but it only was around for a short burst and was gone, no circling, no buzzing, not an unrelenting action of normal air persecution. But the one chemtrail was one of those 'thumb-in-the-ass' jobs, and 30 seconds after it was there; the tape in my car stereo system completely stopped working correctly. 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 MOTHER FUCKING PROBLEM? Go fucking figure, my peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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 fefore 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; 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now for the problem that is also SUPERNATURAL HERE IN THIS BUILDING. This was all happening to me when I used to live by myself while my mom was going with that Chicagoan dude, Edwin R. Potter back late in 1975 and 1976. Neighbors for no reason would fuck with me and attack me, and I had fucking pastors and preachers tell me that SATAN was personally assaulting me for unknown reasobns. Shjit 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

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.

For the life of me folks, I cannot figure out the way for those super sleuths to receive a grade of A+, at that movie my family all went out to see back in 1972, up in New York, Woody, but yes, WASH YOUR HANDS! Somewhere in here perhaps lies the secrets of one AM door bells ringing, and night forests, all existing somewhere in a magical zone between South Jersey, and the non Egyptian Babylon; right Pharaoh Ramases? Give gorgeous Queen Nefertiti a big ass kiss for me, YO!

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.

A MAJOR FUCKING COMPUTER HACK JUST STRUCK ME FBI, FCC, OLD PAL MCDOWELL, SO IF THE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH OR TWO DO NOT COME OUT NORMALLY, I DID NOT FUCKING DO THIS, ILLEGAL FUCKING HACKERS DID IT, FEDS!!!

SEE YOU LATER ON THIS AFTERNOON, SHERIFF MASCARA, MY FRIEND.

Between fucking up my improved YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, not the tape but my ability to listen to it in my vehicle on the normal non-auto-reverse side, if this brings any real good memories back of early 2009 at fucking ass Cifaloglio, where I worked, and during my hellish Stockholm Kidnapping syndrome experience!!!!!!!!!

SEE YOU IN YOUR OFFICE SOON, SHERIFF MASCARA!!!

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 3.

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 ON THE LITTLE FREAKING BULLETS, YO YO YO!!!

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.

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!!!!!

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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

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

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HELP ME PEE, YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, and now it is NOVEMBER 4.

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?

AND YES LOVELY DAUT, I AM HAVING A SUPER ATTACK BOTBAR TIMES 4, PLEASE FIND ME AND HELP ME, PLEASE!!!!!!!!

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:

Now let me tell you some powerful shit based on powerful yet unkn own math, shit that only could come from another world and by what you all call powerful vivid dreaming, as there is no other way of explaining the great fucking 1980 LOTTERY CAT, AKA GAGA for short, or Gawky Gaukauk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here is where shit starts to get wild and tricky as a stinky old mother fucker cubed, YO FOLKS!

I cunt lapping ASKED KITTY-GAGA why I am suffering the worst and longest SIX-DAY-DEATH-SIEGE, this entire year, and the worst siege in decades when all totaled up, and I got my response, and things are going to get quite fucking CAT cataclysmic soon, all over this messed up mother fucking world. My major cursing is because I'm being put through a totally fucking undeserved horrific hell by monster dirt bags that Morianity foundation and mountainpen, its creator; calls and labels; the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE!!!!!! I am sorry, and if things ever get a little better, my language will clean up big ass time, I promise you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But for now, I asked GAGA why this is happening to me, this unfathomable and inconceivable torturous monstrous fucking dirt bag cunt chewing hellishness, and the nice big kitty cat said to me through 36 playing cards, and I quote him now; ''MEOW-MEOW, PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER-761''. Ain't life wonderful James Stuart, old Building and Loan Elevator Room Hyperspace PAL?????? HEE HAW, LOVELY DONNA REED, YO!

The real powerful shit is when I tell you what some of my more pertinent shit is inside of my MATCH-LIST book for items that correspond to PCN-761, good peeps out here!! Try this on for freaking size, BRAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

THROAT SPECIALIST, SINGING CHRISTMAS TREE ANGEL, ECLIPSE, NOTHING, SHARKEY, IS VIQUEEN JEWELLY

AS I BLOG LIVE AT ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING, BOB MCDOWELL, FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, OLD PAL AND KIND SIR, FROM 1972; JERK OFFS ARE MESSING WITH MY MACHINE, AND VIOLATING MY CIVIL FUCKING RIGHTS, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!

Now there is a lot more you can do than ask the magic cat questions through the use of 36 ordinary playing cards, I PROMISE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could sit here for five fucking thousand years straight and type, but the typewriter would break, and so would fucking I, so let us save all this shit for a later fucking time, good folks, and bad ones too!!!!

OK, HERE IS OCTOBER AND SO FAR NOVEMBER MPB, OR MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE BOTBAR, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

Read it and cry, BRAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

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Good folks, being 4 for 10 for having really horrible fucking rotten days, SUCKS!

If you think for one sucking ass microsecond, that you could live like this for more than 27 straight years, from August 15, 1986 through October 30, 2013, you are kidding yourself at light speed squared, and then some more, I PROMISE, AND I'M DEAD ASS SERIOUS TOO, WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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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.

Here he goes again for crissake!!!

BET YOUR ASS ON IT ANNIE CORNFIELDS COSTNER!!!!!

WELCOME TO THE MORIANITY FOUNDATION, GOOD FOLKS. Anyone can join, and the price is FREE. Only nothing really is free, and smart folks know I am merely trying to get my six billion one hundred and one degree home to drop in temperature. I know my blogaud ain't stupid. I know I have maybe, just maybe if lucky, 2-5 peeps that are smart enough to stay silent and are really on my side, and all others are merely government and enemy agents. A fool can see he's just being played and I'm a sub-fool cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No Marie and Ed Green, you can't argue against science or math, it is a fools parade cubed to even make the mother fucking attempt!!!!! Fuck it, POP!

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!

Folks, if it takes me a thousand mother fucking years, I will find out what these horrible mother fucking King's, and Callio's, and McGuire's; all want with me, all these mother fucking years. It did not start in recent history. They have ruined my entire fucking life, ever since I was dropped onto the street, at one year old; in mother fucking Southwest Philly-57 Hickey Hockey Sticks. Be careful, Coach Cryden and Regis Philbin; you cannot ever say or do the right thing with these KENS, Lord knows I have fucking tried my best for a very fucking ass long time, BRO! SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!

55555555555555555555555555555555

Let me post it up, YO, GET A LIFE, YA’ JERK OFFS!

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU (IN YOUR NIGHTMARES, YO).

Twizzlers, twisters, and King Kong be dam'd.

The real question here is if I AM a trinitrail.

I am no such thing, but then there is the word root deal, right friends? You know, a name like MARTIN/O-EZ or a word like ELECTRIC/ITY-IDAD, or another word, like the HOLY TRIN/ITY-----TRIN/IDAD.

YO, cut me a real big break here Margie Leo from good old November in 1985. Just what am I left to think after all these powerful submarines and SAT NURINES landed here at De Gamma's Fort Pierce, and went BOOM? Do you have any letters for me on that one, oh great and powerful Ozann and Ozdawn, and all the rest of uuuuuu's?????????????????

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, or was that W------O------W?

I talk a lot about my copyrighted music, so here it is, folks.

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

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Search for: Search by: Title (omit initial article A, An, The, El, La, Das etc.) Name (Crichton Michael; Walt Disney Company) Keyword Registration Number (for VAu 598-675 type vau000598675) Document Number (for V2606 P87 type v2606p087) Command Keyword Item type: None Recorded Documents Text Serials Music Maps Sound Recordings Computer Files Motion Pictures Visual Materials Kits Mask Works Deposit only monographs Deposit only serials Cancelled Registrations

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Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

---

Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

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WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO?

WWYWINY, MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

YES GINA, I TOLD YOU THE DOW WOULD GO UP ENDLESSLY FOREVER, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU!!!

HENCE, YO,

I DEMAND MY FREAKING PROPS.

FOLKS, AS I SAID TO THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE IN THE LATE EIGHTIES ON MY EPITOME OF HARASSMENT TAPES, GOOD MORNING, GOOD AFTERNOON, GOOD EVENING, WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE. How can I possibly know when you are reading what I am writing? I AM not the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, and never will be, sort of like my old pal David Charles Roth's only show in town. How he would always remind me, seemingly on a daily basis, that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is not the only show in town, nor will they ever be. I believe the tapes are somewhere available in the great Library of Congress, Copyright Office, in Washington, District of Columbia, a place may I add with a very liberated attitude where the age of sexual consent should be placed, and what is good for the lawmakers, is good for everyone else, and if that is not true, just exactly how have I misspelled America? XIII is the number by the way, such a tender age and how the perverts must wonder why this is not common knowledge and all move into our great capitol city, right Roy? I still cannot believe that you told me this, or that nobody seems to know it, know matter how I spread around what you said to me, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

December 12, 2006

More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.

This is merely a harmony track, I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.

At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey.  Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. 

Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently.  He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life."  The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title.  He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day.  More importantly, he is insane.  Completely, violently insane. 

Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.  His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet.   And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.  Covertly, of course.   Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.  (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.) 

Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:

Interdimensional Technology (MP3)    Android & Angel (MP3)    12th Planet (MP3)

If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U, and now, also so says Mountainpen.

A beautiful shot of LUNA, also known as the moon, and 'Goddess Diana', by the Romans.

MY BEAUTIFUL MOON, DON'T EVER GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALL ALONE, YO!!!!!!!!!!

Blog #17, Rats, Tats, and Playing Real [Non-Eagles] Football,
091807.731 I AM BURNING IN DGTOWN----subtitle

Well, for two straight geeks and weeks, they have put me through a living shit-hell!!!!!!!!! Everyday this month is off the scale super botbar and super high Calliotammic as I refer 2 it as!!!!!!!!!! Computer is acting very weird also, and I will not B making a long blog, but it is the sworn duty to every officer of the court in this wicked and evil 'natio nation ratio ration', to avenge my MAJOR DEATH AND MURDER, AS I HAVE INDEED BEEN MURDERED BY THESE WICKED AND EVIL PEOPLE, mentioned in all dying utterances and declarations on all and any of my prior web-logging. Motorcycle trash R major bad, as they were 4 me back last Sunday, forgot 2 mention this on the post-weekend blogs, and last night my home theater was hit again on several occasions, the mono side cut out attack, and the deactivation of a VCR machine on several occasions when on. Health attacks, road attacks, being followed and threatened and violated, and the list reads like a who’s who in the “India Poverty Registry”, sorry Kali my love. I am despised 4 daring 2 B so madly in love with this fantastic great all mighty being, by our down-line perspective Aniwho.

I really was stupid and humanly innocent enough 2 believe that the guard we will call [Bearded Bob] for now and in future reference, when I am referring 2 the next-door property site of the post that I pull guard duty at on weekends, came over after ignoring me for two months, and deliberately tried to hack my mind. If I listened, what a damn fool I would B, as he also is convinced in the reality of those existing will get 2 experience oblivion and nirvana, same diff. I know 4 a fact that this is not true, as would anyone who would do precisely what I am about to tell, for the um-teenth time, just to make a more emphatic point. Try 2 understand something rapies and germios. If a bizarre set of esoteric coincidences were not directly in charge of directing a gargantuan plot on a cold December night into early morning, back in the year of 1969, my entire life, would B on such a totally different course, not only would none of these blogs B here, but internet and today’s world and this new age would not B. Complex pieces in a cosmic equation include Reagan being shot by Hinckley, and living verses dying, as in many hyperspaces, he lived, and in many he did not live, and also the great Lottery Cat would never have revealed himself 2 me, nor would lightning, nor through her, her cousin, Sarah-Stacey. Lois Foca, the song would not B in the US © office in Washington, DC, nor would any song I wrote ever, nor would they ever had been written, nor would I ever had been employed at the world renown Recorded Publication Sound Recording Studio. Never would Donna Summer have done her version of HAIR, musically, and HSM does indeed with no jokes meant, stand 4 both HYPERSPACE-ME’S AND HIGH SCHOOL MUSICALS, Doctor Margaret, of the Institute 4 Medical Research, Doctor Coryell. His and Her Majesty owned many a ship also, throughout many of my long centuries of existing in your mortal world HELL!!!!!!!! Another HSM, wow, ain’t there lots and lots ofem????????????????? Russell Thaxton U must understand, ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, rang my apartment door bell at one o’clock in the freaking morning, and if my mom had not been out on a date with Mr. Crown that night, both of us would have gotten what U all call in this weird modern, can’t obey the bible and hit your kids world, a time out so long that it would encircle the galaxy and then spin off into intergalactic deeper spaces. Don’t Fornication Upon Consent of King-ing Godsdamn laugh, this shit ain’t funny. Major aerial harassment is also ongoing; as I speak a loud roof scrapper is violating my civil rights and those of Mr. Himacane’s. This air siege is finally today, picking up what I call a major lapse in ‘pussy-command’. It has been very low based on a parallel event that brings it higher and higher up, the more the air siege without any let up continues 2 occur!!!!!!!!!! I literally, could have said hi 2 10 luscious young cakes around 25-35 and had my way with them, the way some were eyeballing me, I think I would honest to the gods been raped if I had been alone somewhere, and they were in one bunched up gang. Two of them in a food store in Stratford, NJUSAESMWG literally wanted to pinch my ass, to me this is all disgusting, I am old school, but my hearing is not failing nor fooling me, I heard what I heard, and saw them out of the corner of my eye, while bending down to get some tuna fish placed on a low shelf in the store. Think about what I could do to this EVIL EMPIRE, on any given day when so much of there siege results in this major freaking heightened PUSSY-COMMAND!!!!!!!!! I know that all of this sounds nasty, but we cannot always B as Tommy Roe polite when explaining things pertaining 2 so much gods awful wickedness and demonic activity. It amazes me that I can only talk to the future, but thank the gods, that U at least R listening 2 me, and THIS IS ‘ROCK’ THE GREAT’S, STAR TREK EQUATION, AS HE IS CRUSHING POOR SHATNER HALF 2 DEATH, with the emphasis of an emotional Hercules, that “THEY” absofuckinglutely knew that I would realize later if not SOONER, that who cares whether or not anyone is listening to me today? The unborn can hear me right now on the fourth dimension, thanx to the reality of distance delay teck or as it is called in the future DDT2, almost in fun, so it never can B wrongfully confused with the original DDT pesticides of the middle 20th century. No Bearded Bob, I am not trying 2 convince present day populations of shit anymore, my common sense eventually kicked in, nut smart as UR Mr. Chemical Engineer by week day and guard by week end, U know nothing about astrophysics nor the general and special relativity equations postulated by a good friend of my dad’s, My Einstein. Y won’t U send back some pop-ups 2 help me out of this nightmare, World Lab? Is it not strange and wildly weirdly coincidental that those tow friends of Sarah, Paula and Nina, R in this time period or a later one, into the more humane networks of society? Yeah, I search on Google two Sabrina; everybody does Except President Hopeful Branch. Anyone that does not C the wild coincidences and far out cousinly stories all taking form, has never Goggled up this entire story that I have been telling 4 close 2 two mortal world Earth annual periods, [years]. Godda freaking admit, it is a bit fantastic, am I really so wrong?????????

Well, I sent my 2 grand 2 the E-Trade and opened my account 2 days ago, and started with 2 long positions on the Dow Index Futures, and this means a profit of 200 bucks per every one hundred points that it climbs, so harass me all U fucking want 2 ya filthy pricky bastard toilet-seat-rockers!!!!!!!!!! Since the air shit won’t quit, fine and dandy mommy jumpers, as I speak a super low pass again, and planes both small and large, civilian and military, small but nasty kemtrails R back, loud jets and choppers as well, plus all that nice pussy-action!!!!!!!! Utility attacks, computer Lattisaw jack hack attacks, home theater and other devices weirdly manipulated under the total control of the GMC, the GREAT MILLIONTH COUNCIL. Yeah, guess it was my destiny 2B surrounded one way or another with Stacey’s, as even my landlady’s college daughter is a STACEY, and spelled with the [E], the way the Almighty spells her name. Go ahead plane, crash right the fuck in front of the trailer park. WHERE THE FUCK IS MULLICA TOWNSHIP POLICE and the NEW JERSEY STATE POLICE, when your constitutional and civil rights R getting totally wiped and whacked!!!!!???????????? I plan 2 take advantage of the pussy command, and get a string of luscious girlfriends as well, so Mizz Benitar, just keep hittin’ me with your best fucking shot; U just ga’hed and freaking fire away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello to the future, screw back here in the time period where I am living. I know all about the King-Soifer World Lab, and I in the year 2301 jump out of a sky-car 2 my death, after I get kidnapped in Brigantine, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, this universe and hyperspace catalog as of time and date printed at top of this web logging report datfile. Officially, this is datfile 00001, and no matter what blog title or number that supersedes this one, each one will now become DATFILE 2, 3, 4 and continue 2 proceed upwards in chronological order. Chronis himself came to Brigantine in PLAYFIELD JZPXTEY-2953687, under the name in this datfile game, of Zuudlochronus, in some of my website docs and blogs on other non-site locations, I refer to the differences in spelling only 4 the record, that astrally HE sometimes spells his name with and sometimes without the English letter of [N]. Thank U for almost wrecking this horrible town a while back with SUNMAG. I need lots more natural disasters, floods, hurricanes which 4 two seasons have been blocked by Briggbase enemies using ANTIMAGNETICSOUNDMACHINE TECK, tornadic activity, volcanic activity, and tectonic platasonics, and water displacement balance teck, THANK U. I definitely need major help, this video game set to AVM is unfair and I challenge it on a 29-TFWPCG official level. Within a few months, a 16000 + DJIA Stock Market System will B there, just as I said that it will, as everything I say comes true, in every shade of black and blue, and still I wait 4 them 2 state, that I am here, Mizz Kirshty. U all know out in 2301 that Russ Thax came over in this video game set on AUDIO/VIDEO/MATERIAL-full trace laser scan, [FTLS] and that the first move was having Misses Goodfellow 6-D-influenced or SDI, 2 get horny and rape him, committing the heinous act of child abuse, endangerment, and contributing 2 the delinquency of a minor. Then move 2 was to SDI him to find the unopened fifth of straight Vodka, open it, and drink it all down in his room, the Ross Midnight Action was now further embarking. Then, since he knew we would both B literally floor wiped by my baseball bicep mom if caught together at 1 AM on a school night, or any night, he was in move three of VG-AVM SDI’d to come over with some strange ‘knowing’ that my mom would just happen 2B out on a date with boyfriend-Sid. Then move 4, as the RMA, or the Ross Midnight Action continued 2 progress and ensue, he SDI’s me 2 burn the remaining half of the magical contents of the locked ‘sea chest’ appearing box, in my bedroom apartment closet, in that early hour in early middish December in 1969-AD, in New Jersey, USAWSMWG. Now the super wowish RMA, remember from PB, the song Diana Ross had in 1985 called CHAIN REACTION, and what was the other object that was in the box B4 the great Sarah-Stacey Jehovah took it out of there both physically and astrally, but THE CHAIN, given 2 me by John Henningsen, given 2 me by a mister Hans Worshing from the Philadelphia Boys Club and the Big Brother’s Association of America. 2301, U all know my complete story back here in what U perceive as your past, but I am real here on a 3 dimensional plane, and just because more than 29 decades separates us in photonic distance, it is the same space on the fourth dimension. IC that all of the Google system now fits into your grand scheme of all of this, right down to this AVM DATFILE GAME 4, and includes all that I have been put through and experimented with. Now, I ask for a RELIEF-CLAUS, under the ACT OF UNUSUAL PRIORLIFERS DISCOVERIES or the Relcla of the UPD ACT, THANK U!!!!!!!!! I will now send back all of my material to all of the times to the United States Library of Congress for official ©. I demand a GAME OVER, please make papers appear in the 1990’s about this video game and Sarah Krassle. Thank U 4 compliance under the UPD Act.

END TRANSMISSION-----------------------------------------4 now, whatever now is!!!!

GOOGLE-SWIS-WORLD LAB- official web documentation @datfile #1: MARK MOHR/MICHAEL MOUNTAINPEN

All blogging is co-copyrighted in these names, if these names R on these blogs.

DATFILE NUMBER l--------------------END TRANSMISSION

Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 3:46 PM

Labels: MY BLOOD AND MURDER IS ON U

“YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER”

VERSE ONE

I’m so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new

Let me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few

Oh my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew

We’re down and out, and we will even go to work for you

You seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two

I am so weak and faint and do not wanna’ be so blue

While we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe

Oh please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you

We’ll help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew

But greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

And I’m not giving any freaking fish away

VERSE TWO

So when you add your salty tears directly in the sea

And when you’re done your song of woe, that you have sung to me

Just take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty

And right into the undertow, and stop annoying me

And talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish

You loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch

I have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled

So either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed

Guys like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled

People say I’m cold and cruel, on every single day

But I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay

So I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE THREE

They say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand

And mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand

Storms blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died

The sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried

And on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned

Ignoring waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound

Just another bucket and, then he’ll have caught his fill

A lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill

The king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again

Yet locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

So yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay

And I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE FOUR

You’ll be crossing over, later wishing you’d been nicer

You’ll be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer

You’ll be crossing over, hearing all the trash they’re talking

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll have to keep on walking

You’ll be crossing over, watching all the others eating

Feasts with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating

Forever seeing many fish, but never on your plate

You had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll be a lonesome rover

Forever doomed to hear the words you always used to say

That you’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

Oh yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay

So you’re not giving any of your fish away

END OF SONG. No magic Leprechaun linking, sorry.

*****BULL FUCKING SHIT*****

MY ENTIRE LIFE IS ONE HUGE LEPRECHAUN, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983

NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:

Only the opening title words are real. Technology, huh???

To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO. If you do not like techno-pop music of the early and middle nineteen-eighties, there are other songs at the same site, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so go there and have a blast.

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The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version

Thursday, January 31, 2008

teohiv, datfile xxxiv, TMCAM-subtitled

TEOHIV-CB21-datfile XXXIV
013008.562-BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Well, another horrific week is going down, today there is major chemtrail persecution, go to http://www.chemtrail.com/ and C if I am nuts or have a real serious problem 2 deal with?????

If this Scylla’s skies problem was all I had 2B concerned with however, I’d have it made in the shade with lemonade. Http://www.scylla.com/ is another site 2 log onto. Man has his interpretations of all of the Greek gods and Roman Gods, the myths and legends, and I know the reality of it from using the FASCITAR 6/10. Time does not permit a long blog. These agents R obviously part of THAT FAMILY, or TAWF. No human in the early 21st century has this much power, nor would they B doing this 2 a person 24/7/365.2422, it simply is not a rational belief. So I tell the story some more, and they hack some more, good, I know when I am hitting those lovely wovewee phony-funny bones there silwee wabbit!!!!!! It was in early oh-four and I was at my security shack at the Griffin Pipe Company, in Florence, NJUSAESMWG. Suddenly I just was not there, and have no memory then or now or ever, of getting tired or woozy or falling asleep. Bang, I am just on this bus, and there is no 2 ways about it. It winded through lovely areas in Pennsylvania coming from State College, PAUSAESMWG. Eventually, I’m in Atlantic City. The bus is going up northerly on Pacific Avenue, and I remember distinctly passing the Convention Hall. I know I blogged all this. When the end of the line was reached, I was being forced off by these wicked nasty mouthed big bodied agents. I was whisked down lots of stairs, through a hallway system that led finally into that video room. Back 4 now 2 more present time things. Jenlow wanted me 2 do something and we made some kind of a deal and mutually agreed on something that I have written down in a journal, cannot presently pull it up in wakeful mind. But give me a break, Toomey, Jenlow, come on. I mean B4 the show, even Fontana is in the damn interaction with me, and he is in this show’s episode with Detective Green, bro. Toomey helped me in 1972 around the time I had met Sarah Jacobson at my school. He was a sports coach then, and was on the beach shooting the breeze with some of the beach patrol honchos, http://www.acbp.com/, if the website is up there, when I tried to view it some time ago, there was a problem. Aniwho, some dirt bag kids had stolen my bus ticket home and shoes and shirt. If Jim Toomey had not been there and helped me, right where Giant Sharon was 26 years later in August of ’98, I do not know what would have happened.

Presently mankind has laboratories that R just about at the point of creating the environments that will enable them to do all of this. In these states nothing is life as we know it, yet it is not in phase two or astral. It is physicality or the 3rd phase of reality starting with the great Roman-6 or VOID INFINITY. A person enters this chamber that for all intents and purposes is zero degrees Kelvin, nearly 3 full Kelvin degrees colder than your average location anywhere in deep intergalactic spaces in the hyper sphere. Movement in one single dimension can B achieved, and from here 2 across t

Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 8:41 AM No comments:

Labels: PERSECUTION HARASSMENT CONSPERACY THEORIES ALIENS MILLIONTH COUNCIL

About Me (The last sentence was hacked off)

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The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version

Monday, February 25, 2008

TEOHIV DATFILE XLIV

The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version, CB #31
022308.118 datfile XLIV
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I must accept this curse for now and perhaps forever, I have no power to stop it, and no one believes in what I am going through, or the few that do just cannot help me out of it in any way, while some flat out just don’t give a damn.

Ed screwed something up, AGAIN, he said for me to save my document as DOC 1 as it shows on the screen, but it would not save and every time I hit backspace, the screen cleared and nothing was working right, so I brought down the old 30 document, and am saving to that, Ed can split them and cap it later. The hack is in big time, the capital letters lock went on by itself, did not push any key when it occurred. Lots of words are not fully coming out, and the bottom of the screen is acting very weird, and I will have to close down in a second, this is not going to work, the hacking is huge or else as usual, Ed must think this is funny I am starting to think and even Ann thinks it if I can be blunt, we both are thinking he is getting a weird sense of thrill and power out of messing with me, and if this is true, then he can totally fend for himself, and with out a car. My life is not funny, and if he is teasing me, I don’t trucking need this one bit. Ann is not on medical treatment for paranoia and she is thinking this, and does not yet know about tonight, but she will when I call her, this is not one freaking bit funny. I can now buy my own computer with my new credit line; it is not me that needs any of this. Now if this is not part of some sick sense of humor, then I owe him a big fat apology, but this is trucking ridiculous.

Well, last trucking rock chucking runt slapping and bunt tapping week was pure ultimate epitomized DOGTOWN, MW word is HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was a horrendous week, every stinking rotten day, and their dirt ball stock market, just as I said it would, TOOK THE TRUCK OFF, AND FLEW LIKE A DAMN HUMMING BIRD. UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, just keep pouring it on against poor whittle pathetic innocent victim MOUNTAINPEN, BWABY WUV!!!!!!!!!!!!! Continually persecute and harass poor me into the ground and wreck my life totally and absolutely and full and wholly and completely, and this scum ball DOW JONES has but one direction 2 travel baby-cakes, and that is UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP AND UP!!!!!! This has been going freaking on now with me for nearly 22 years, since the spring and scummer time of 1986, the freaking AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION, [ACLU] obviously along with the great and mighty Google, do not give one rats grass about helping a victim out of an unspeakable and unconscionable nightfreakingmare that will not ever end!!!!! The reason along with all the persecution that I received, that the Dow Jones flew last week, is because I had to work around my residence with Ann Silva, like a damn dog, and many a dog lives better than this dog does, and that is a fact. Property damage and sky persecution, and all the other terrible constant trucking harassment's that I am forced to endure, is making this evil market rise forever, and endlessly will, until I screw up my wussed out courage, and use my passport and just walk out of this evil empire. My more immediate plan is simpler and safer however, and that is that I will be blogging starting next week, onto a fourth and new blogging site, after I choose the one I feel most suited to my situation, as I have Googled up the NEAR-DEATH-EXPERIENCE stuff, and there are lots of sites to choose from. Ultimately, it is my desperate hope that some person with clout or even better some institute takes an interest in studying me and my horrific dilemma. I will come back to this in a minper or so, I just got the market report on Philadelphia’s famous amplitude modulation {AM} radio station KYW, at 1,060,000 cycles per second frequency, or at 1,060 kilocycles, and the Dow flew up Monday through Wednesday while I was miserable working like a dog, and taking Ann to the prison where her daughter Dawn is soon to transfer out of and into a program in Seacaucus, NJUSAESMWG, and it was a totally wasted trip, the warden would not let Dawn keep the coat her mother was previously told to bring to her, and I could go on and on with Atlantic County and their totally screwed up system so just do not even get me freaking started, but Thursday it dropped and they persecuted me to get it back up, and again Friday it dropped, but a second day of major sky persecution brought their fixed ICPE JESSICA MARKETS that were down almost 100 at one point during Friday, back up 70 points, to only close down about 28 points on the cheated freaking day, and for the cheated stinking trucking week, these evil markets gained 1.4%. Ed does not know beans about many things yet acts like he is all mighty GOD on the Earth, telling me the markets are heading down, and all they do is forever each and every week, keep moving UP AND UP AND UP!!!!! Getting back to my younger days, I began noticing that even though I got lots of action, it was tripled during my sieges, especially in the sky, and for a number of years this is not happening, and I guess all of you out there must have been thinking, DUH, your old now you stupid duosh-wad. I figured this old lately, but no one wants to admit they are getting old and ugly, but life is a bunch of ugly realities, you face them or you live in fantasies and delusions, this is not freaking for me, I do not play games, I do not like games, I need trucking reality, bad or worse, I need to know the real truth of things, this is me, BRRRR. I mean the question surfaces over and over for several years now, during the worst sieges, nothing, no girl action, what is going on? You are an old trucking man ya dumb grass, that is what is going on, and still, I get it, but just a lot less than in my days of younger times, like DUHH!!!!!! But returning to the topic of these younger days, I only wanted to get away from every beautiful queen that came onto me; my only thought was how do I get away from this person? My friend Dave would scream at me, “Mountainpen, you don’t walk away from beauty queens”. I can hear it in my mind as clearly as if it was the late 80’s or early or mid nineties all over again. I always believed that some invisible force was trying to put me together with someone, and I have a tremendous fear of being used and controlled and manipulated, and yet this is exactly what always happens to me anyway, all of my gods forsaken life. Remember, all the things I hate and fear are forever totally attracted into my proximity, and all the things that I desire are forever repelled away from it. Now that I am old and want women before it is too late in my present life for any chance of family or normalcy, they for the first time in 35 years or more, do not want me, as much or even at all anymore. Some would say, hay, you blew it grass hole, very unsympathetically, but you will never understand nor comprehend what my life has always been like that led me to make all of the weird choices and decisions that I’ve indeed made throughout my miserable pathetic life. But remember this blogaud, the world dies if the salvation curse on this family stops, it has to go on exchanging a sin-debt for those choosing to let this family line take the burdens of eternal hell for all of you. I have reason to believe that all of my cousins are queer as the tooth pillows and once I get too old, that’s it, GAME TRUCKING OVER. But do not believe me, just all of you do a Paula Law and Order Weston, and go right ahead and die, see if I care. Gawki Gaukauk, a huge black cat from the astral plane who is a mystics professor at the great Teck Bay Mysteries School where many of Diana Arteemis’s friends attend, this is lightning in the human mortal realm, told me the other day by mortal reference frame, that it is time for me to know that even some of the greatest astral entities come into the mortal realms and live unhappy lives and totally blow it as the 60’s expression would go. One of these is the all mighty SCYLLA GODDESS herself. Powerful families on this Earth know that if I could ever make her remember who she really is here, and bring back even the smallest and remotest memories of her truer and higher reality, the world would change on a dime and not in their favor at all. I know you will not believe what I am going to tell now, and I will not be specific, it would be too dangerous. 55555555555555555555555 plus 55555555555555555555555555 times 55555555555555 and divided by 5555555555555555555555555 is equal to fucking who cares???????????????? I just got on page one hundred eleven, you bastard whore JANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I'll have to fucking compensate, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

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!

Why the fucking markets appeared to close an hour earlier back last Friday the first of November, the gods only fucking know, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So exactly what is happening to me, and exactly why, and who exactly is behind it, and can Morianity ever have the dimmest hope of sleuthing its way to the Gozzwald Movie Answers, from the early nineteen-seventies???? If only I was able to go back into mother fucking time and see that movie that my family all went out to see that night. I am starting to wonder about a lot of fucking things, © Office Examiners!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know what this fucking shit is worthy of, ''right here and right now'', my lovely Anita VanBuren, and that would be thissssss, ERICA. A great fucking big *******************W-----O-----W!*******************

There is a lot more going on than just what this washcloth family from hell has seemingly done to me, only to connect it all into Wall Street and New York City, we must honestly reexamine the great day of terror, nine-eleven, back in 2001. The 4 planes were on 4 missions, two brought down the two towers, one hit the great capitol city, another ''symbolic great city of the Almighty Scylla'', and yet the plane that did not make it to its ''real'' planned location, would have it it had made it, struck another of ''SCYLLA'S GREAT CHAIN CITIES'', ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY. The United States © Office has tapes from my Epitome of Harassment projects from 1988 and 1989, titles were misspelled, and is why you see the (SIC) in parenthesis on the © forms that I paste into my blogs, it stands for, ''SPELLED IN-CORRECTLY''. On these tapes is time travel proof of Donna Summer the great disco diva, already knowing about the day of terror and the song was all about the following day, the twelfth of September. Shortly after I sent this down, those who know powerful Masonic truths about this evil nation, began striking these two dollars or twin towers, same astral reality; shortly afterwards, there were several attacks, the basement bomb, and others we do not all know about and have not all been told about for obvious reasons having to do with not panicking millions of people unnecessarily.

All right, enough said about the great WASHCLOTH PEOPLE, except that, David Druggie, sir, former boss at the Austin Hunt Harvest; he told me for no reason while I was stocking a shelf aisle and doing my job, in front of his pal Darius Evans of the Deezy Slim rapper company, that you can search-page them on Youtube any time, and I quote, ''Mark, go wash your hands'', and he said this to me for absolutely no reason at all, no worldly reason. Yeah sure, uh-huh, WASH, my hands, and if I had been at home and not on a job in a public bathroom, this would mean to grab a washcloth, I do not know how you all wash, but I always take a fresh washcloth and get it all soaped up in the sink and then really wash up, Michael Germhater Jackson Style, and then rinse off after I hang the cloth up on the rack, with clean flowing new un-soapy water. Well, it took me long enough Scylla to get all of your great messages, from your great Earthly done material, and from your middle 2008 Earthly web-site, but I sooner or later always do get around to ''GETTING IT'', don't I brown eyed girl, Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So who and what and why, is after me, well; let us go back to that early nineteen seventies night up in Babylon, New York, to the home of my late mom's cuzz, Ruth Huntington Gottwald Gozzwald Oswald. Everything all connects together; this is the law of subatomic forces and energies. We either are at our true state of lack of all dimensions, or existence without Full Moon Mayors interactions, (EWI) with a little joke between the Wolf-Gang of L&O-SVU and myself; TEE-HEE-HEE LILLY; or we are, when not ruining newly purchased round end-tables from Good Will Stores, and cutting our-self into refrigerator slivers; living where things burst out from this nothingness, into a fabulous fantastic non-trumped marvelous DREAM INTERACTION, and so to maintain this, we cannot be doing it as a oneness, yet in truth, behind the OZ-CURTAINS of this wild dream-out; lays the connectedness of all things or Quenergies, or newly discovered 'quantum force energies', to be more futuristic and precise, folks, YO! Before Nick grabs me by the throat, and takes me back to 1968, or wherever he may feel compelled to take me; or not him, but one of his very advanced other selves, in the vast and unfathomably huge hyperspace; as I seriously doubt over here, that either he, or anyone else in the entire family has these abilities; but then to quote hyperspace Diana, or Lightning; between the midnight action, and the chain reaction; some might say the song that I wrote in 1969 called, ''That's The Way It Goes'', is also, part of these quenergies. Whether it be Hyper-Space-Equation, or double-doppelganger-Hyper-Space-Me's, or High School Musicals of MONSTER-ASS DISNEY HIGH DEF, or even lovely KALI, or lovely Cali Lewis, on the demo instruction CD's; all connects all, and if you open up your mother fucking minds for second number one, I will try and show you some of this incredibly wild full sucking shit!!!!!!!!!!

In late August of twenty Marola ten, AKA 2010, I drove over to the Radio fucking Shack store, to buy a few cables, to connect some audio-video stuff; and I let some ass wipe store clerk, talk me into buying something, that he said would make my TV appear much clearer and better in picture quality, no matter what kind of cheap shit I may have. Well about a week ago, I opened this thing up that I bought, thinking it was some kind of a small device, and instead, it is a MONSTER CABLE with these really cool ends, supposedly to be used to connect digital video recorders (DVR) up with digital high definition television systems, and to make it all work, you need to subscribe to hi-def-TV, and all your sources must be hi-def. It was a total rip off. But was it a total cosmic rip off, folks? I opened it, and inside along with the cable, was a CD instruction video; and on that, lovely Cali Lewis, a real goddess to put it politely, WOW, you are lovely and built like a goddess, if I was 40 years younger, I'd be madly in fucking love. Aniwho, I came to learn about Monster, monster-ass recordings, and Ding-Fire man and his Disney-Nick connections; all from opening a little ditty thing that's been idly sitting in this apartment since I moved in; and was sitting in a pile of AV connection plugs and chords, for almost the entire time that I lived up in the hood, before here; up at Avenue E, and 26^th Street, YO! What make these wild JAMES REDFIELD THINGS HAPPEN, some are asking me, and even Redfield himself does not really truly understand the full 100% scope of all of this? Yes, the answer is quenergies. Another word from more than 100 years away, in many other parallel universes. I do a lot of exploring when I am ''sleeping/dreaming'', folks. I am not always, but many times, I admit to going to bed as a fully registered, fully licensed, TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON!!!Now we could go on and on, but I need to tell you what my fucking jerk off bastard enemies did to me today. First they were noisy. Then I posted a blog up that did absolutely no fucking good at all in my fight against this mother fucking rotten ass EVIL EMPIRE, and then I went out to three places, to do a few small errands. A fucking 285 pound man who is short, has difficulty buying a belt that will fit. I am tempted to buy a cheap ice pick, and drill my own holes nearer to the start of the belt, but I doubt this will do much good. You can use this as you take weight off, but in the opposite direction, you simply run out of room, as most belts don't even want to fucking go around my big ass fucked up ugly body!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I tried to do something else, when this bombed out; and then that bombed out also. I was trying to look up a friend from the old job at the AARP Harvest Job. Her name is Sandra, and she has very odd and staggered hours at a local town department store. Then for trying to do this, and the WOMO MILITUFORCE knows everything, don't fucking ask me how, as I don't fucking know folks, sorry; already dissipated pre-chemtrailed skies became alive with brand new trails in front of me as I headed to my final errand. They went too far, as when I got there, three very lovely women treated me like a king. This is what happens when THESE MOTHER FUCKING PRICKS WON'T STOP PICKING ON ME WITH THIS FUCKING CUNT SUCKING STOCK MARKET DICK EATING BULLSHIT!!!!!!!!!!!! Now it is worse than ever since many many mother fucking months, up on this October 28 day, I have not seen a 4-DAY-BOTBAR-STRING all year I do not think, maybe there was one other one early in the year, I'd have to check my calendar later, and I plan to, YO.

I am not at all looking forward to the rest of this fucking shit, great beautiful tall 'Twinbay', or this one either on October fucking thirty, mischief day and night and this is exactly what this entire day has been about for fucking me!Speaking of Twinbay, if you are out there, and I doubt it as no one seems to give a fucking rats ass if I live or die, I am just an object to be mocked and scoffed; but IF you're out there, Jennifer Washburn; I sure wish you had a better system in place to protect those like me with mental fucking deficits. You provide aid and comfort for those who you proclaim to be physically in need of help, and ''that is a debatable point'', to also quote Macy's Santa Claus, while he speaks to young Alfred in the Macy Employees Cafeteria, in the movie; 'Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street'; but when it comes to protecting the mentally frail such as myself; you allow us at our most mother fucking vulnerable moments to be plucked up by criminals and bottom feeding quintessential scum like the KING FAMILY BRANCH of the great almighty TAWF; and be totally wiped out and destroyed. You let those poor other folks be tortured too, remember folks how many and they all don't make the press news, believe that; who were eventually caught kidnapping and stealing all of the monies, from social security victims. I too was in this category, just the circumstances in my case were slightly more involved and 'intricate', PP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes at a minute shy of 2 PM, the nabes began slamming their door, and I'm quite positive when the markets close and I go up to check and verify on the DJIA charts, that this was again indeed, a time of WOMO's necessary Mark Wayne Mohr persecution, to keep their wicked fucking stock market endlessly going higher forever and ever and ever and ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I queried the great Gawky Gaukauk ''Lottery Cat'', and he told me through a randomly selected deck of playing cards, and two random draws of cards from ace-1 through 9, while thinking my question to him silently, day or night, Christmas Gramps, and singing tree angels, 1971-2013; 'Full Moonprick' of forces stopping all things I try to do to learn major shit, my old pal TEA. Yes I have a video taping machine, and healed up fingers; just no more 1986 American Appliance Refrigerators, or graffiti on local saving store walls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho Flo Poolbox, I asked the magical cat why I suffered the attack this afternoon, with the dirt bag roach sleaze neighbors?

I was then given the MEOW response of converted English words to, Private Cosmicoded Number 624. Here are my main matching list items for this PCN good peeps, YO.

TWO EMPTY LETTERS, MOCKINGBIRD LANE, 'LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS' DREAM.

Then I bravely decided to ask another question of GAGA-KITTY, and my query went like this. Just exactly why did these entities come to me, while I was staying at Tom Reale's sicko home, on Cornwall Avenue, in the summer time of 1970; in series of dreams, somehow without ever speaking it to me, and telepathically referring to themselves as ''THAT FAMILY''; that I have changed to the abbreviation of TAWF?

My kitty said back to me, MEOW, PCN-473. Here are my matching list items for for this PCN good folks.

OLD UPLINE WOMAN REMEMBERING HER TEENAGE YEARS, HADDONWOOD SWIMMING POOL, WIFE.

Then with still even more bravado good people, and true Morians, if any; I asked a third and final question to my cat, the mighty and incredible Gawky Gaukauk, AKA GAGA for short; give me a break 'lady'; the poor cat was born this way!

Hay GAGA, why does every single mother fucking thing in my entire life always go totally wrong no matter how fucking ass hard I cunt sniffing try in this life, to stay out of trouble, and make improvements to my miserable existence, over a 50 year period, since age 8 or 9 years?

MEOW, PCN-264 came my answer, and here are my matching list items for this PCN, good peeps.

ENEMIES BROKE MY CAR USING SECRET TECHNOLOGY, FAMILY CURSE, GOOD GIRL BUM, PARLOR TRICK, MARIE OSMUND, PRETTY CURLS, QUEEN OF BLUE, NEW YORK CITY

Yes, if you can hear me, hyperspace TRAVELERS who intentionally are 'working nights', and AKA TYPE 3 EXPLORATRONS, I know a lot of things about why you all got together and created the greatest law show in the history of the entire Entertainment World system, or the (EW), right after my visit to the Camden County Prosecutor; and even how my S-DAY-LAUDER nightmares of 1984 and 1985, all fit into this; along with my two very very distant cousins, Trump and Stuart; and the Macy connection. On the Astral-Plane, words ending in an ACEY sound, always have a connection to and or with, great energy and power, ACEY and PIGLOPEY, are the same exact word on the ASTRAL-PLANE, at least in the Province Olympia, and many of the neighboring provinces of all six directions around it.

I will ask the cat why this is all happening to me and come back on a later blog with a lot of mind fucking blowing shit, for all you Morians and non-Morians out here reading these fucking blogs, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OK, let us wrap up this nightmare bullshit, my Morians and Lessians and any and all Inbetweenians. Time travel has been going on since long before both this planet and this universe was ever placed here, not that it ever was, by our reference point inside of this fucking nasty ass mess. For right now, ''MY'' hearing the word ''MY'', Marcy Levy, 6 years after you ripped me off with your Gibb BEEGEE brother scum, and I got ''MY'' self Hebe-Black-Listed as a result of making trouble for the theft of ''MY'' song, Lenny and Chevy; and all hacks, chases, and strange banker families appearing out of nowhere nearly a year ago, yes Mister Macy, here we are again with another one, if you don't mind, or, for that matter, even if you do, to sort of quote that goddess Jennifer Hudson,

W---O---W!

Well folks, the real power story begins when we look at the blogs from late in 2007 into the first half of 2008, and this is just what is going to happen, good people. THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT IS GOING TO BE STARTING UP, and boy are enemies gonna' be sorry as stinky turds being toilet flushed! ''OH SHIT'', just like that cool fat dude on the syfy show does so fucking well, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DOORS DOORS DOORS, WHAT A BUNCH OF FUCKING HUMAN LOW LIFE ROACHES I MUST LIVE WITH HERE IN THIS HELL!!!!!!!

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555

FOLKS, 'GO WASH YOUR HANDS'.

DAVID, GET OFF THE DOPE, SKELETIN HEAD.