GO
WASH YOUR HANDS, my friends out here.
DAVID,
GET OFF THE DOPE, SKELETIN
HEAD.
LIGHTNING
LOCATION: YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU DIANA
ARTEEMIS, MY BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-EL,
KIND
PEOPLE OUT HERE, YO; THIS
WAS BOTBAR TIMES 6,
ON THE YEAR
OF 2013, THE MPB IS HOLDING AT 32 TIMES 2;
AND THINGS HAVE NOT BEEN
THIS BAD
SINCE I RETURNED FROM A MAJOR
SOUL TRAVEL EXPERIENCE
ON THE MOTHER FUCKING NIGHT OF YOU KNOW IT JIMMY OLSON, AND CLARK
KENT; AUGUST THE FIFTEENTH, IN 1986, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
NOVEMBER
26, 2013,
TUESDAY
MORNING AT 3:12
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 72 DEGREES FNHT.
TITLE
OF THIS SERIES OF BLOGS:-------
“THE
MAGIC TOOL
THAT CAN PREDICT
DOW JONES PRICES
WITH 80%+ ACCURACY, ENDLESSLY, AND IS MY
PERSECUTION, IN THE UNITED STATES;
SINCE THIS BEGAN
IN 1986”
MARK
WAYNE MOHR AND HIS BLOGS, FROM JANUARY 2006-PRESENT DAYS:
TITLE
TO THIS BLOG: ''THERE COULD BE TEN THINGS
CAUSING THIS HELL, SO HERE WE GO WITH THE OR OR OR VERSES THE AND AND
AND''
What
amazes fucking me folks, is that my personal LUCK FACTOR TEST SCORES
HAVE BEEN ABOVE THE ROTTEN NORMAL RANGE FOR POOR OLD DISEASED
PATHETIC LITTLE FREAKING ME, AND JUST LATE YESTERDAY, I TESTED IN
WITH THREE GAMES AT PLUS 1, PLUS 6, AND MINUS 1. FOR A FUCKING ASS
BOTBAR-X-6, AND THE WORST MAGNETICS OF THE 2013 YEAR PLACING THE DAY
AT 32X2 FOR MPB or Magnetic Percentage Botbar; I must do a real
crossed over Chris Cross here, and not go Jimmy Dean Heinz Gottwald
sailing away anywhere in New York state, but, speaking of miracles,
well, just you wait and see, huh buddy, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
TITLE
OF THIS BLOG, MY GOOD FOLKS:
''THE
WASHCLOTHS HAVE STRUCK, ALONG WITH THE PUCK; AND AS DAVID WOULD SAY
IT, THE PHILLIES STILL SUCK''
Original
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Not boring, without hesitation
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You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super
glue and olive pits? An angry mother. At the risk of sounding
negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot
be sure of anything
NEW BLOG FROM DECEMBER OF 2011, and new DATA:
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WOW
Mister
Macy,
does this world fucking BLOW; old buddy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I tell you the details of the past six days, you will want to break
fucking down and cry like a god dam little baby, I promise you that
WOMO-MO, or at least MO, as WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE is as heartless and
cold as 5000 brand new giant hotel fucking ice
machines!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT IS WITH OR WITHOUT
ANY VACANCIES IN THOSE HOTELS, 1985 COPYRIGHT EXAMINERS,
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, AND HO HO HO HO, SANTA AND PATTY HOLLISTER,
BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
GO
WASH YOUR DEAD HANDS, John H.
Ladies
and gentlemen my blogs welcome all of you. No, I am not in with these
forces, Mister Hall from 1988, oh no, fine pal, but all I want to
know then, sir, if it is not me, then who is for crissake? We had fun
talking about those boxing matches at 100 decibels, down on Jefferson
Street, old pal, but a decade later in late '89 or early in '90, I
remember hearing you say that sentence to another friend of yours,
while I sat there silently smirking, thinking to myself, yeah, right,
sure dude; if he is in with them as the old first year algebra goes,
we will call that item, 'X'. So if that is X, my being in with these,
''fawces'' would be somewhere in the hood of
1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000X!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Folks,
if you are not in the mood, FOR ONE OF THOSE BLOGS, right now, and
you all know what I mean here so let us not play dumb here; just come
back when you are, and do both of us a big butt wiping favor, thank
you so very much!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.HA
HA HA HAM JANE WHOREBREATH, YOU MISSED ME, IT IS PAGE TWELVE OF
TWELVE, YOU WATER WITCH-BITCH!!!
HAY
FOLKS, the funny thing that isn't stair-chase funny at all, is that
when I got to my doctor's office, all the agony in my mouth for five
plus days, suddenly totally vanished, POOF, and what I need to know
it just simply this, where is Harry Potter Houdini, in all of these
great Wizard-Merlin PARLOR MY TAPE TRICKS??????????????
Now
we'll get into the whole fucking deal, ladies and gentlemen, so hang
in there nice and tight, all Huntington's, Hammonton's, and ocean
wave-dog-roofs, from here all the way to Dogtown Doggerville, New
york, Sheriff Samegod!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Welcome
now to MY
playpen!!!!!
HAY
IT AIN'T DOGGERVILLE, MISTER WOLF, BUT GIVE MY BEST TO DISTANT COUSIN
ALAN AND MARK, BRO!
BEAUTIFUL
LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA)
HEEDA
PITCHA OF DA SKYLINE INDA SNATI,
WIVFWONT,
NICE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAA!
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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.
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HELP ME PEE. YOU HAVE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, AND IT NOW IS NOVEMBER 26, LOVELY GIRL!
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WELL
LET THIS POOR DAHG MOVE ON NOW WITH HIS BWOG, ELMER FWUDD AND NEWLFER
NENNY MCKN!
MARKEY-SHARKEY
IS THE GREATEST FISH IN THE WHOLE DAM BAY, WHO ELSE?
TIME
TRAVELER WRESTLER JESSE KNOWS THIS!
HE
KNEW IT IN 1965 AND IN 1986, HUH SAL?
LET
US BEGIN HERE GOOD PEEPS, WITH MY MONTHLY CHART OF MPB, NOVEMBER OF
2013, AND IN CASE YOU'VE NOT OBSERVED, LET ME BRING TO YOUR FREAKING
ATTENTION PLEASE, THAT FOR WHATEVER THANX-2-GIVENS REASONS, SEPTEMBER
AND NOVEMBER HAVE BEEN THE TWO MAJOR HORRENDOUS WATERLOO MONTHS FOR
THE POOR PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN, MONTHS NUMBER 9 AND 11, AS IN TERROR
DAY; AND THIS SHIT IS INDEED QUITE MOTHER FUCKING TERRIBLE,
AGREE?????
NOVEMBER
01-----00
NOVEMBER
02-----00
NOVEMBER
03-----33
NOVEMBER
04-----25
NOVEMBER
05-----20
NOVEMBER
06-----18
NOVEMBER
07-----14
NOVEMBER
08-----25
NOVEMBER
09-----33
NOVEMBER
10-----30
NOVEMBER
11-----27
NOVEMBER
12-----33
NOVEMBER
13-----38
NOVEMBER
14-----43
NOVEMBER
15-----47
NOVEMBER
16-----44
NOVEMBER
17-----41
NOVEMBER
18-----44
NOVEMBER
19-----42
NOVEMBER
20-----45
NOVEMBER
21-----48
NOVEMBER
22-----50
NOVEMBER
23-----52
NOVEMBER
24-----54
NOVEMBER
25-----56---ALL TIME FUCKING HELL-HIGH!
A
child can see I am in a lot of fucking major trouble, if you're
following the BLOGS OF PITIFUL KING WASHCLOTH
NEBNOOSHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, if
you don't see; then get a tin cup, and a cane; and you will have your
own pity-party to send out invites to, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
have my own staircase humor, and have really learned this last third
of twenty thirteen, to use it whenever I can, or I can choose to go
totally postal nuts and blow away a crowd at a Mickey-Dee. That would
solve nothing, nor would it prove anything, and is exactly what
MCKANNON would love for me to do, I still remember everything you
have ever said and done to me, in this lifetime of yours, and the
last one, big guy!!!! Oh yes folks, pitiful and pathetic don't even
begin to describe fucking shit with all of this nightmare around me
that is endless and relentless. I thought being 31x10 was bad as all
shit, and now I am holding at a beyond whopping Pepperwinkle 32x2,
MPB on the year with a monthly MPB of 56%. Does it really get worse
than this Lizzy
Montgomery, ''TING'', wow was I ''picking fucking shit
up in 1997'', huh Clarence Andrews Harris, YO?????
I
said it before, and I'll say it again, until my wonderful daughter
kills me someday perhaps; NOTHING
JUST HAPPENS, NOTHING. Still, this does not explain
away the powerful ESS or EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY, that can pull off all of these
''MY-TAPE'' parlor tricks; as well as do all the shit that happened
to John Denver in his car, on the OH
GOD movie, from horrific loud
squeals, to things playing that should not, and could not, in any
real world; and on and on we can go with this; but we won't be. Even
I know ''safe limits''. How peeps can
code your words on an OFFICE PROGRAM, and why they would,
and on and on; only begins to get described on blogs back in
Morianity, regarding the types of explorers in the ESS, and their
functions basically in these roles. LIKE DUH Hyundai!
Dave
Roth and I talked about this for hundreds of hours back in the late
eighties and throughout the fucking nineties. I speak of days when
for no reason whatsoever, people treated us like total shit, or they
literally just somehow saw us as absolutely 100% fucking invisible.
We would call this the hostility-invisibility-gram for the simple
reason that itr was just as if the Star Trek Next Generation
television show was real and so was gthe Holographic Deck aboard the
starship, the Holo Deck for short, and we were in it and literally
under an attack where just for someone's pure sick fucking amusement,
this was all being created around us and we were totally fucking ass
powerless to prevent any of it from happening or even lessen any of
it one small iota. Today was one of these days, as you know from
earlier blogs, I called my doctor and requested an emergency pop-in
visit when I was told that without being seen, I could not get a
phone in to the pharmacy for some penicillin. I will tell you all
about the visit, then the trip to the pharmacy, and then to the
Publix Grocery store, all during a torrential windy rainstorm, the
type such as this is rarely seen around Fort Pierce, but today, I had
to be on top of a rotten miserable bunch of other fucking shit, smack
dab center hub right in the cunt eating middle of this as
well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First
off, as you know, the day I played the somewhat improved tape-copy in
my car stereo, of my song, “YOU'LL BE
CROSSING OVER”, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE
broke my tape player. It was the day of the county area
military air show, and I should have known better than to have even
ventured outside of my fucking apartment, as a certified member of
the STATE-ENEMIES-LIST, to be persecuted and harassed, covertly and
stealthfully; forever to my grave by these fucking fart sniffing scum
bags. When I do stuff that's fucking stupid, I've got only my pussy
chewing self to blame for the shit ass rotten consequences in this
evil empire nation!!!!
So
today, or yesterday now, while not even off my block, the tape fucked
up, and has bad spots on it; and needs to be tossed, and I must make
a new one from my master in the computer. This is 80 cents out of my
pocket, as I have to buy books on tape at the Good will Store to get
decent cassettes to use to make a fairly nice copy. I learned this
the hard way. Buying the 18 dollar ten pack blanks at the K-Mart is
way more money and a lot less quality. You can input into the system
all kinds of sonic improvements, but a better tape is a better tape,
and I wish I had thought of this back when I sent my shitty rotten
other tape to the Copyright Office on the third day of July, a while
back. It is an OK copy, but it is just a cheap talk-quality tape,
where as books-on-tape, even though it is just that, a book spoken
with a voice, seems to be on a higher bias tape where you can make
stuff sound way closer to CD quality, and with the shit I used to
have before the family pinched it all away from me, I could get full
CD quality. So things started out instantly with the tape being all
fucked up, and I enjoy hearing the machine copying my daughter's
voice print and singing that silly fish song, with or without the
extra talent added. So there I am with just shit to listen to, and I
was already pissed off before even arriving at my doctor. Then also
before pulling into the medical area facility that he and his doctors
share with numerous other medical groups in sort of a new age medical
mini mall, I noticed all of my pain after 5 days of total agony, was
completely gone. THIS IS WHY I TELL YOU SOMEONE PUSHES A BUTTON, SUCH
AS THE TOOTHACHE MAJOR BUTTOBN, laugh the fuck at me all you want to
world, I live inside of this mother fucking nightmare and you don't,
the goddess bless you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After
I saw my doctor, who was one of the 5 docs that practice together,
not my actual doctor; who was there as I saw him there; he said he
will write me prescription for the pain and also one for the
infection. When I got into the checkout area, he had not included the
one for pain, and even though the pain was, and still is gone, I know
that the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
can push that TOOTHACHE-MAJOR
BUTTON any time they so choose again to do, and
bang, back comes total fucking cunt lapping ass agony, squared, so I
told the check out nurse, and by then he was with another patient,
and by the time it all got straightened out, I was an extra hour in
the place waiting, r just about, and the weather just continued
deteriorating by the minute and the hour, all day,l as it was a heavy
windy drizzle condition when I drove out of the PHA parking lot,
inserted my 'YBCO' song tape, and it broke; even on the Auto-Reverse
mode that I've been playing it in since that day up on
mike's fucking Hutchinson asshole Island and that brutal destruction
of my property, that allowed this EVIL
EMPIRE TO SCORE THOUSANDS OF POINTS ON THEIR CROOKED CHEATED ICPE-APE
DOW JONES STOCK MARKET SYSTEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Then
I make it to my pharmacy, and was told the wait would be twenty
minutes, a good average time. I should have gone to Publix and come
back, but didn't. I just was glad to be out of major inclement
fucking weather. Normally I love this kind of weather, JUST NOT TO
HAVE TO DRIVE THE FUCK IN IT, WITH ALL THE ASSHOLES OF THE
PLANET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I couldn't get that stupid ass commercial out
of my mind either, with the Michelin Tire Man, who keeps throwing
tires at speeding cars, racing down rainy; and setting a horrible
fucking example for viewers, year after year, for proper road driving
behavior in less than fucking perfect Pennock weather!! WHAAAA!!!!!!!
All
sorts of wild shit happened here also, and I ended up being in there
for nearly another hour, and by the time I hit the Publix; it was
pouring and almost gale force windy, and just about pitch ass dark
as the devils ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I got a small amount of ice cream and
some soda on sale. The ice cream was full price but their brand is
very reasonable even when not on sale, and their brand is quite
scrumptious and I have come to really enjoy it. Publix is a fantastic
store. Also, the beautiful girls are quite friendly, and if I were so
inclined to be friendly back, and was not under this nightmare
unspeakable torment called the HUNTINGTON FAMILY CURSE; I'd have all
the action I could ever handle and way more. One day soon, the
WOMOTAMM garbage eating enemies will be so sorry, when I shock and
surprise them all by flirting back, and nailing me a real young
lovely goddess. This town is filled with lotsofem, BRO. The Coke
Sodas were on sale, and I am a big FRESCA fan, and bought 3 to get a
12 pack fourth one for free, not bad at all!! I bought some bagels
and liverwurst and a bag of onions to make a lot of nice cold
sandwiches, as hot meals are on my nerves here with this never ending
hot weather, of course today and tonight, or yesterday really, was
nice and cool, in the lower sixties during the real heavy windy rainy
period. Right now it is back up to 73 heading for close to 80, and it
is twenty minutes shy of six on a Tuesday morning.
When
I got home and out of that storm, even while pulling into a dark
parking lot, I did manage to get parked closer than I usually do, to
the door to the building facing the lot, and had my prescriptions and
my grocery items in small plastic bags, and as I entered, a man was
with his dog who also got onto the same elevator as I did, and this
small dog just hated my guts with a passion. I was really lucky I did
not get bitten, and looking back now on it, should have just hailed
the next elevator. Who needs hassles, I know I don't, the Huntington
curse provides a full time 24-7-365.2422 HASSLE, and all totally free
of charge, and for my endless inconvenience and total
H---E---L---L.
After
being in and watching a little TV and eating a small dinner, the pain
is still gone, but this is six straight days of SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR,
no matter how you might look at any of this, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO,
Alice Simmonelli Senatorbeatdowntape
hyperspaceinteractions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCKING
WOW MISTER MACY, YO!
SOME
SCUM BAG IS HACKING MY WORD PROGRAM,
FBI,
ACLU, HELP ME, WASHCLOTH ASSAULT from 1970.
BOB
MCFUCKINGDOWELL OLD FCC FRIEND, YOU CAN SEE IT FOR
YOURSELF.GJGJDKDKFJ89-54YH89
Atttttttttttttttttttttyyyyyyyyyyyy5555555555ftdfafter
df455555555557890mjsmpmffjfjffjcft657fjfj
Aft8685674574urjruRHYUKGW%^#%G%BGGGh7uGG
Someone
does not want this said, that is totally for fucking sure, FCC pal,
McDowell.
I
am trying to say that after I had a little din-din with Betty Mommy
Dearest Davis, and relaxed with a little TV, I did some luck testing,
then I went straight to asking my wonderful GAGA-KITTY
ALL-KNOWER wise panther of the ages; 3 powerful questions, and I
really do wish to share his answer-responses with my viewers and
readers.
QUESTION
NUMBER 1:
WHY
IS THIS INCREDIBLE BOTBAR TIMES 6 ASSAULT BEING DONE TO ME, AND ALSO
THIS EXCRUCIATING MOUTH AGONY, JUST WHAT IS GOING ON AN DWHO IS
BEHIND THIS FUCKING MAJOR HELL ON ME, KITTY?
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW,
PCN-330.
Now
folks, my matchbook listed items show the following for the PCN-330:
VOID
INFINITY, MICHAEL SMITH, SON, ADOLPH HITLER, PATRICIA LANG, MARK MOHR
WILL MAKE MONEY
Now
a child can see the last part fits about fort six trillion percent
here, as every time I try to get with my pal Mikey and begin
something with this very things being done right now, the GAWNUM, the
agony comes right back.
QUESTION
NUMBER 2:
What
is causing people to totally forget that I exist, and treat me in
this incredible way, especially on these horrible days of strings of
botbar assaults and enemy attack, they they forget what they tell me
they are going to do and ignore me and act as though I am not even
there at all to the point I am ready to commit fucking out right
murder, kitty?
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW,
PCN-264.
Now
folks, my matchbook listed items show the following for the PCN-264:
PARLOR
TRICK, GOOD GIRL BUM, QUEEN OF BLUE, NEW YORK CITY, FAMILY CURSE, and
there are others.
An
idiot is able to see this powerful I-CHING-SQUARED amount of wisdom,
all tucked away inside of this bullshit!!!!!
QUESTION
NUMBER 3:
What
is the entertainment World's problem with me most recently making
them despise me so much, and cheat me?
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW,
PCN-275.
Now
folks, my matchbook listed items show the following for the PCN-275:
THE
VOID, VERSION, SARAH KRASSLE SANG, SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, TWO THOUSAND
EIGHT, FLORIDA, CURLY CAREY EINSTEIN MESSAGE, and some others.
Forgive
retarded whittle me folks, but again and for the third time here my
good peeps, YO, the message is so obvious it could be read in a
shithouse stall, right next to the world famous one in at least 30
languages by now, and I'll quote, ''Here I sit broken hearted
hearted, came to shit, but only farted''.
Folks,
I am just going to come right out here and say it, If this shit does
not begin to fucking peter out and max out, and back the shit eating
hell off of me, the entire world will have to be totally obliterated,
annihilated, and completely destroyed. I am sorry to so inform you,
but I cannot take this any longer, SKY!
I
have just one really important message for the great Sarah Krassle on
this blog, good people, and believe me, she and her peeps follow it
with regularity, and I think my viewers figured it out for
themselves, as the coincidences are just too huge to believe
otherwise, and you all know it.
I
know your absolute biggest secret, I really do, and will keep it
forever, and you know that. I am not speaking about the stuff that
could cause a lot of real world trouble, this is bigger than any of
that, and you know it, and you know why, at least very deep down
inside, I know that you do. The reason you have the compulsion to do
it, is because in Sahasra Dal Kanwal, in our real and true being, we
do all of that great stuff together, and we are never miserable or
alone. You can be miserable and you can be alone, even in a city of 5
or 10 million people, we all know that. I just thought you might
enjoy knowing why, and by the way, that latest thing, I figured that
out, it just takes old Yancy boy a little time sometimes, you know,
back when I sent 2-ago projects to the © Office, I honestly did not
know or remember anything, until you started the heavy rotation of
dreams and then that powerful message on your 3333344444. All that
time, I had those tapes, and I had those memories. But please
remember what your hero Bruce said so often when you were just 3 or
so, it applies to poor old idiot me too, you know. So now at least
you know why, I know I am always glad when I eventually learn shy I
do particular things. I just felt I should share this with my BEG, no
matter how angry you may be at me, especially for earlier this year,
and I am very sorry. It isn't you, it is them I am so angry at, and
what they do. Well lovely kite flier, I am always here if you should
need anything at all. If you do not believe I know, and think this is
even a chance in a million, that it is me being me, and silly, please
rethink it all. Why did Elisa seem to want to live at the Mystic
Islands, and why did you become interested in certain parts of her
life, and then, ask yourself, why I have never told who showed up
that day in May, remember, I am on your side, not the enemy here and
this is all I want you to ever know. When life is over here, you will
believe fully, but now, ask yourself why it all happened, in the
light of nothing ever happens for nothing.
Come
to think of it, at the Trinidad Motel on 10-SC Avenue in Atlantic
City, in 1967,my cousin Sandra Mason, daughter of my Aunt Geraldine
Snow, who married my mother's brother, Stuart Huntington Mason; was
all part of shit that she is totally unaware of to this day, and is
better off not knowing. I was told by family, that her memories were
beginning to be effected by some illness, right around the time I was
asking lots of questions about Atlantic City and Sarah Krassle,
towards the end of this nightmare period of 1995-2003. These fucking
nine years were something that as Kevin Bacon would put it way better
than I ever can, “It's hard to verbalize”. I know your pain, Kev.
No
you did not imagine that I did not say I would go back and not work
at RPL. My treasure-Attic find was too great to pass that one up, Joe
Windman Berrios Flash!!!! After all, how can we ever learn to live in
peace, cry at night, study math and English, learn our part in
science, study far away constellations, learn that he really cared
and needed her, know how pretty the white boys really are, at least
to Donna, hear the Gettysburg Address done so incredibly with a slant
that only a teenaged Donna Summer could put on it, Give the sun if
she had asked for light, or a life fit for a queen, or cherish her
with his every dream, or know that these peeps somehow all knew
decades in advance, well, fifth dimension sort of coded, speaks for
itself here, but a song written for the day after the Terror Attack
in America, and even get to hear songs done in both English and
Venezuelan all in the same take, and so much more, so beat those
great Macy drums, Westchester State College, oh Pennsylvania or New
york, this is unknown even to the all seeing Mountainpen, McNulty,
it's time, YO. Can you cunt lapping fucking believe that ignorant
MICROSUCKS SPELL CHECKER, it does not recognize an awesome city name,
Westchester? What drugs are you on Gates and Jobs and Mike Hell Dell,
and all of you?????????
Thank
you for translating the great flower song, Joe Flash Berrios. But why
after that did you damage my automobile, and secretly bug me and
record what I said, as Nate the Resident Manager told me he saw you
do in late 1989 or early ninety thereabout, what gives here, my
bratha????????????????????? Yeah, I'll say brother any way I want to,
my father's great great grandparents were from Johannesburg and
Lisbon; so I cannot help it if I am the whitest looking N in the
world, Lenny jit bag McKinnon, old pal, from all
planes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
where would I go if I could not go quite back as far as 1969 to
change shit with Sarah Nurockey Krassle, but could still get
physically back almost that far? Well, let us examine this, ladies
and gents!!!!!!!!!!! Yes folks, I said I would
go back to the start of 1977, and not work for the print shop, that
made me sick and almost die, in 1977; so where would I go, if I could
not quite get back this far, but could get back to just days from
this; say all the way to the end of 1976? Where would the next stop
be for me on this wild hyperspace train? Well, if you had guessed, to
the time where I was leaving the home I had bought and sold in less
than a year with a nice little profit, early in 1980, then you would
have hit the jackpot and won the fucking cupie doll. First, I would
have never ever left this place, not ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, I
would have made sure that someone my mom and I knew, did indeed move
into the unit below us, before that whore wicked girl pal friend of
Debbie blondie Harry Playboy bunny and her wild sicko friends, came
in there, and wrecked shit for me, after finding some happiness for
the first time in my life, which as you know is not permitted by the
serious EXIM RATIO stars of lovely ISIS and Huntington Curses. Lets
finish examining just a tiny part of the FIRST ROBIN HILL EXPERIENCE
or for short, the FRHE, pronounce it the FREAH rhyming it with yeah,
as in oh yeah. Hyperspace effects were the absolute hugest while
living at 1802 Robin Hill. To adequately address the issue would
take numerous fucking volumes of text. This is where the next blogs
that discuss this little serial hyperspace memory lane stuff, will
begin from.
UNTRUE
UNIVERSE HOPPER MARK???????
YEAH,
SPREAD THAT FUCKING ROTTEN LIE AROUND, AND MAYBE I WILL GET A PIZZA
DELIVERY JOB ON THE SIDE, VICTORIA WINTERS
FAMILY BIBLE GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
Dave Speas, time is indeed catching up with me, but still, does the
light ever go on? I keep trying to get it on so badly, so does it
ever come on? Well, we can deal with this another time, as right now,
as it is just about sunrise here and time for lovely Roseann to hit
the hard hay back up in Granddaddy-Hick-ville-Jersey, gimme' a break
Marge Leo, and SLAM SLAM SLAM, how I love these fucking rotten doors
around this shitty place, 1:30 they slam in, quarter to seven, they
slam again, total fucking ass pigs, cubed in Cuba, and then how about
all of Dawn's great friends in Atlantic city, New
Jersey??????????????????? So
indeed folks, just where have all of
the
TRUTH-PATRIOTS
all
gone to, and when will any of us ever learn
anything??????????????????????????? Maybe after Peter, Paul, and Mary
and Potpuff pet dragon, all blow away in the next wind storm, huh,
Pam Bondi, mahm!
Bring
it, bring it, bring it, bring it!
I
will fight the good fight, with all Paul's, all Paula's, and all
anyone else's, and wish so bad to be proven wrong and given a real
down to Earth way of seeing all this shit with me. The problem is
that no one can prove me wrong, it has been tried over and over by
lots of great peeps who just could not stand it and gave up and then
distanced themselves from me out of pure fear. I cannot blame them.
Who else talks to Lightning? Who else can make the weather change or
start horrific earth surface disturbances any time they so choose to
do? I
have no fucking energy left for 'any
of that stuff' any more,
so cut me a break, please, oh great 1985 Margie Leo. Thank you girl!
Life sucks, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
only some of you nice
wonderful folks would click the stuff that I tell you to click, you
wouldn't have to take my word for anything. It is all up on the
internet, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
People
can theorize, wonder, guess, and make all sorts of logical, as well
as totally illogical deductions; about any possible parameter that
physical life has to offer; from whether it is the right time to ask
a boss for a raise, a pretty girl out on a date; or just if a family
should vacation in Hawaii or the Rocky Mountains, and even who really
gave us all THE INTERNET!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND ALSO,
WHY
DID THEY?
WOW.
Well
as for the internet being the greatest GAME OF THE ASTRAL PLANE GODS
so far as of 2013; we can save this topic for soon to follow blogs,
but now, I will finish up by taking our little time phone booth, and
the wonderful Al Who doc, whassup or not, wabbit; to the next
not-as-far place backward, as in this little experiment, we only have
enough power to get back into time to the middle eighties, and we
already have things all screwed up because it is hard to have your
cake and then eat your cake, as we all know, both in Egg Harbor City,
in New Jersey, at the great Incollingo's Grocery Store, just
hollering distance from the home of lovely Leticia Tilley; and
outside and to the west of there down route-30, as well, near
Christmas time in that horrible year of oh-Marola-6. Folks, I don't
have near-death-experiences like a lot of peeps. I have been totally
killed by enemies on many occasions, and yet, for some reason, maybe
yours are better than mine, I am still here, and seem to be the
Prophet of Nothing, and can prove this, as this is on file in my name
back in 1988, in the great and awesome United States Copyright
Office, It is titled as the collection of tunes, misspelled, but
spelled correctly, would read, “Epitome of Harassment'' either Part
2 or Part 3, as the original one was titled, ''Dancin' In The
Ocean'', and where that got to, is something I have yet to wrestle
around with the © Office about, but plan to, believe me folks, and
'Beegee's'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, to both have and eat the cake,
would indeed be a difficult task, for the poor, the rich however just
buy 2 cakes of course, so they always have the one to EAT, and then
just the one to HAVE. Is this the making of another set of Hyundai
car commercials, all over again I wonder, or should I just be colored
mine, and or Briscoe Julia impressed, with more wild fantastic
hyperspace that we have not even begun to surface scratch, but if you
carefully archive all my old blogs, you will say oh Jesus, what is
all this shit?????????????? And then I'll say, I TOLD YOU there's a
ton more, and you've all not heard nuttin' yet, Al Jolson, so when
will anybody start listening to me, I wonder and head scratch? But
what if we could get lightning to do a lot more than cure Keaton's
disease and bring Art Carney back from the dam ass dead along with
his jiggling watts before anyone talked about thousands of megawatts
in groups, back around 1985 when I was pining away for my lightning
to come around and bring me codes through the Privecode machine,
instead of sending Carney and Keaton all around the space time
continuum. Oh well, if I keep on talking like this, we can resurrect
Ralph Kramdon next so he can holler out in that bass drum booming
voice of his that both Carney and me, and maybe Alex too, are all
mental cases, quoting him verbatim here on that super funny show from
days gone by, ''The Honeymooners''. If it was 1985 and I had stayed
for 5 years at 1802 Robin Hill, and was therefore not at the Highview
Apartments, and have a chance to now only be able to get back to 1985
when I was packing up to leave Highland Avenue in Cinnaminson where
that monstrous fight about the ''lab-technician'' happened between my
adorable wonderful mother and myself; how then would this go
further, into tearing apart the fabric of 'mind-reality', AKA 'STME'
(SPACE-TIME-MIND-EFFECT)???????????? Well, let me march onward and
discuss this just a small bit with all of you, and then we can wrap
up for the day, so I can take a nap. I would go back and decide
when I move into Highview,
never to go that awful home in cherry fucking Hill, owned by those
Jew-bastard wicked lawyers from hell, the Karpf's. There is a growing
disturbance in my mind now that something happened at 1802 robin hill
apartments that I am unable to remember consciously, and so I begin
to dream and dream about all sorts of wild shit that pertains to both
where I am at highview, and also, at Robin Hill back in Voorhees,
where I moved in originally on May the first, in 1980. This is where
the great cosmic game starts to get real good, the days when I wrote
the song called, ''Queen of blue'', and even met David Charles Roth
in early November, in that year, 1985. But was there a hidden
powerful deal that eluded me all throughout this time? Not in one
universe, but now things are so scattered around, that I am already
in about half a dozen of them, all moving in and out of each other,
some in dreams, some not in dreams, but however you might shake
things all up, eventually, as we all learned from infancy, what goes
up must come back down, so bang, down it all comes, but now there is
a soaking wet towel with about 6 or 8 dry ones all around this wet
towel, with the water absorbing and seeping into the dry ones. A lot
of Educator Exploratrons know how fast things can tangle all up. I'll
give you an real quick analogy. Just take a few wires and connect a
few things, and a year later, it is all tangled up together, and you
never did it, so who did, the mice, the aliens, your delusions,
whatever congressman??????? Well, without getting old friend Bob all
perturbed over any of this, I have no trepidations whatsoever about
saying this outright, and I am not attempting to obfuscate you all in
any tiny fragmented way, good people, I promise you. We, look around
us and see things, material objects, time passing forward, we seem to
have memories that correspond to things all around us, especially in
this new age electronic wizard world. We literally made the words of
Fred Windstein come into fruition, and all have the world not at but
in our fingertips. And how far now are we as a collective, away from
realizing that this only exists in this form, because our minds have
divided the true reality by C-SQ? One polarity moves the tape one
way, and the reverse polarity, the other way, the tape can be
referenced in your mind as time moving. Nothing is moving people.
Nothing is real either. Some may argue then that illusion is real,
but it isn't. When you see why, not shy, typo sorry folks, but when
you see why, you will be so far ahead of where youweree when you
failed to see that much. This is gospel. I will leave you with it.
Everything sucks, what do you really want me to say, good folks? Hay
if it makes yo warm and cozy inside, I will be gklasd to sit here and
say, peace and joy and love and flowers, and all sorts of nice mushy
stuff. I'll promise you the moon and deliver Lynn Andersen and her
great rose garden to you. The problem is that there is a much more
important rose garden for all of us to be concerning ourselves with,
and that is the one owned by lovely Mary Tyler more, but if you know,
then you know, and if you don't, Sargeant Pepper, well, what would
you have me say then, more flowers, more love; more 'mucho sickem
swalen cherundo'?????????????? How about more of Joe Berrios the
flash runner, or Nate the manager at the ET Building, without the dam
aliens? Think about that one before you get a heart attack and pass
away from my blogs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If a MACY-WOW does not fit into
this one, then where the shit does it ever fit, great
folks??????????????
GO
WASH YOUR HANDS.
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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