NOVEMBER
24, 2013,
SUNDAY
AFTERNOON AT 3:15
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 75 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''
Original
five blogs:
On
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My blogs
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Not boring, without hesitation
nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that
out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my
wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness
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You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super
glue and olive pits? An angry mother. 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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Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
GO
WASH YOUR HANDS.
Ladies
and gentlemen my blogs welcome all of you. It is overcast here in
town, down from 84 degrees, and a little more comfortable, but
Florida's humidity makes 70 feel a nasty ninety many times, despite
what the experts proclaim with a much lower figure. Things normally
are fudged somewhat when a place has any connection to tourism, as
tourism equals into money, and money is the god of this world. What a
rotten god it is too. If given the chance, I am sure I could have
come up with or built, a far better god than this, but I am just a
nobody, and am never consulted by the powerful forces of this world.
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?
Now,
as for the Annoyance Call Bureau of 1983, and wonderful awesome, Miss
Blake; yes, I have calmed down a bit since our last talk 366 months
ago, thank you. But I have never ever stopped getting these weird
calls. It only stopped for the short period right before the
kidnapping was in the hatching plans, through about 3 or 3 and a half
years here in Florida, and non, just as before and always, ever since
early 1983 when it began; it never goes away. It has started to rain
heavy with some wind blowing the trees, at half past three. I love
rain, and never liked bright sunshine, suppose I should have married
Roseann Delaney, but figured I have enough problems with my throat,
without her around, Richard Marcucci and Russ Thaxton, right?
I
have suffered for 4 days now in agony with my rotten fucking teeth
being in pain due to infection. Monday, I will go over to my doctor
on an emergency visit, and wait until he writes me a script for
penicillin to get rid of the hell in my mouth, started by a satellite
attack, that was perfectly timed with a total outage of my infrared
video remote control units back before this all began, and seemed to
be almost timed to begin within seconds of the incident. So whatever
death beam was used, it wiped out my teeth and it wiped out my video
remote control infrared sensor channels. There is no way this is some
bizarre coincidence.
Rather
than move right along with more stuff about what I would go back and
redo, I need you to follow me on a related point regarding all of
this, first, good folks. Every single thing I am doing is called a
hyper space equation, or a HSE. You'd be far beyond shocked to a full
faint, if you could be made to see and understand how powerful just
playing this little game can be, and this is topic for upcoming
blogs, not on this one. This one merely is to remind you that all
worlds are in a state of what the science community calls, a
quantum-flux. Instant by instant, all universes solidify for a split
instance, each one in a slightly different way, and these splits then
further split off, and so forth. Well, this may be somewhat true on a
surface thinking level, and that is where that ends. I want to tell
you what really is happening. First, nothing breaks back and forth
from solid to flux to solid to flux. The flux state is where our
brain activity operates on a level where as of the time of this
writing, society is clueless about our 'brains', but they do not
divide the energy reality by C-Squared. This part of our mental self
actually exists in this flux and while there, this state is every bit
as normal as our state now when things appear in an illusion to be
solidified and material, to our much different waking world brain,
the one that indeed has divided the flux energy realm of truth, by
C-Squared, allowing us to be tuned into this tangible world
interaction. The changing hyperspace in five dimensions is a constant
reality, every bit as real as any of the fixed physical laws, or the
(LAWTRONICS). Not all that long ago, but not yesterday; maybe around
the time I first moved to this building from up in the hood of Fort
Pierce with April Lee, and her magical weird father; somebody asked
me in a round about way, unless I misread their cleverly worded
question to me; can't we someday fold all this up into just one
world-reality? Well, no there would be no way to do this for many
reasons, even if we were a race of omnipotent entities. The fifth
dimension working the way that it does, is totally needed, for all
things to work out the way they do and so that we all can live our
lives, have our dreams, exist as our Astral Counterparts, and much
more. Different lives in different reams in parallel universes are
not meant to be colluded together, this does not mean we cannot fool
around and cause effects in the world that we physically inhaabit.
Same thing for our astral reality. Our existence here in hyperspace
in all of our many lives in time and parallel atom rearranged
universes, and our existence on the Astral-Plane, is not something
that can ever hope t in any way be combined together. First, those
realities are separated by a truth, not a distance or even a
frequency in vibrating atoms. One realm has interactions first and
then space and time is created to fit around the interaction, while
the other cannot have any interaction, unless first, the time and the
space exists for it to be occurring in, in the first place. These
worlds cannot ever be joined at the hip, or in any other way, but we
can move in and out of all of this cosmic fabric, and begin doing so
eventually, with intent to cause 'HSE' Hyper-Space-Effect. I only
ranted on with this to give you a small foundation for right now, and
I will move this on with this as a necessary stepping stone in the
back of your head. The main thing I feel compelled to say is that
many worry about leaving parts of themselves on planes they visit,
and lose parts of their souls by the way they wrongly perceive
present day limited philosophical/religious concepts. You and I are
full fifth dimensional entities, and we may indeed leave parts of
our-self one place and even pick up other parts of our-self and bring
them back here, but all said and done at the end of the day, in the
fifth dimension,cosmos recognizes us IN THAT FIFTH DIMENSION, and
makes no distinctions or prejudices about this one or that one or a
piece from here and a piece from there, and so forth. We never change
and are always are full self. On top of that, our full self is a big
grand and glorious dream down off of the higher Astral-Reality, where
from this arena, we tire eventually from interaction, and sleep a
while, and dream down into this lower hyperspace. Now like it or not,
there are HYPERSPACE REGULATORS/CONTROLLERS/GATE KEEPERS. Call these
roses by any Shakespearean name you feel comfortable with, as the
resulting effect will not alter. I was not as fortunate as the entity
inside the shell of DJ Trump. He got to break Lawtronics without
consequence. I did not. I put together a machine for allowing me to
widen my dreaming channel and allow me to live as who I am for much
longer, so that I could et back what was cheated away from me by the
filth bag rotten scummy Womo-Milituforce. Once I began empowering on
the Magnesonic Transpower block, certain beverages or foods, and
eating and drinking them back in 1985 and 1986, the balance-enforces
of several groups of the ESS, previously named and even discussed in
a compressed and shortened lesson; had to take action to injure me,
to compensate for what would have happened if they did not do this. I
could not figure out for the life of me why shortly after I began
empowering these elixir's, my body would seemingly get struck down
with ailments, and sicknesses, and other bullshit. This was why, the
balance-enforces, of the Exploratronic Supermind Society Controllers.
Doors are mildly annoying this weekend, nothing super major, yet.
Still, when I type shit that the world owners (WOMO) don't want out
publicly, they influence enemies around me to make noise, and
persecute me. This did not start 3 or 5 or 12 years ago, but has been
recognized by fucking me ever since the early nineteen seventies.
It
has now dropped to 70 degrees, and is a light sprinkle. Since two
hours now, we've gone from 84 down to 70,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
MARK WAYNE MOHR
OF
MORIANITY-FOUNDATION
My blogs, just click:
Welcome
now to MY
playpen!!!!!
BEAUTIFUL
LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA)
HEEDA
PITCHA OF DA SKYLINE INDA SNATI,
WIVFWONT,
NICE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAA!
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Jupiter,
Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
Enemies,
who R they?
SIMPLE,
FOLKS, THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, WHO ELSE????
By
By for now, big SARAH-CALLIO-COW-KALI-KAL.
0
Comments: A planet of drones, why does this not shock me, Steve
Moroni?
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I
know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank
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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 24, LOVELY GIRL!
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TIME
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GOOD
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Folks,
a child can also see quite easily, that a lot of other stuff is
happening, and has been, for 30-50 years, all around me, that the
entire fucking CATHOLIC CHURCH CANNOT EXPLAIN. Now some in the
secret-government think they know things. Well, they do in fact know
some things. But it is quite comparable to a child learning how to
read and write, and a little more in the first grade; maybe even
learning the basic arithmetic tables, and a few basic facts about
the world around him or her. But as they know a little more, they
come to find out that there is so very much more yet to learn, and
eventually will accept that they never will know it all. At best,
they may come to the false conclusion that they do so, you know,
become a 'know-it-all'. One thing I have come to realize is that I
have placed a little too much significance on middle 1986, as so far
as my personal problems and woes. I need to back that up for the
three years that all precede this one, and then, it becomes very
obvious, just why 1986 all had to unfold and happen as it did.
Exploratronics still is the explanation behind all things, and just
because I am no great professor, and cannot make things real clear
to all of you, does not make this an invalid truth by any means. The
sixties and seventies were powerful times, and this has not been so
much as surface scratched, but still and all, the years of 1980-1988
were in all reality, my most unfathomable and twisted outlandish
period of time, and interestingly fucking enough peeps, this is the
Ronald Reagan years. Now do I believe that this nation is run by the
known-visible government? Sure I do, about as much as I believe I've
got millions in the fucking bank. 550-550-550-550, yeah, I escaped
DM King, but so what? December of 2009 only lasted for 31 days, and
even after the death of the great Dawnie Terra TPB on 01-01-11; a
beyond powerful numerical day for her death to fall on if I must say
this myself folks; this is by no means the end of the relentless
persecution of me by this family from the majestic stars. Well, if
you're out there, Mister Beach Vanisher of 1974, they're starting to
learn a little bit, table scraps perhaps, but it is some of what you
had taught me on that wild summer day while I was rooming at Selena
Dada's house, on Stenton Avenue, in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Just
exactly why did you have my automobile destroyed on my way down to
your fucked up first hotel in mid-town AC, CUZZ?????????????? I know
you and that pal of McGuire's are pretty tight, and did you ever
think that he has motives for telling some real nasty ass shit about
me? Does your mind reach that much around the curve, or as Miss AT&T
Blake would say so well back in 1983, ''or naut''? Elv, if you're
still here; I want you to know that you are a lot better off without
that miserable witch, Callio. As for other musical groups, MJ fell 7
brothers short of the cosmic story, but then maybe there are some
wild family on-goings that make the known amount of sisters, appear
somewhat fractional. In any event, and all joking aside, David
Sleepdeath; the real true fact is that no one likes crackpots, and
anyone who is not liked becomes a 'crack-pot' by the movers and
shakers, AKA the WOMO. We're the ones that know stuff about the
magic bullets, the magic families, and a lot more, but slowly as the
clock ticks onwards, stuff is coming out. Of course this will do no
good. There is no god the way religious folks believe, there is no
good force that is going to triumph over so-called evil, and there
certainly is no way the little people will ever regain power over
themselves and their once free world, ever again. Those in power
sold us out long ago and know better than to make any prior mistakes
over again. History used to repeat itself, but I have watched very
carefully over the past 25 years, a brand new reality take this
world over, bigger than any so-called fucking ass saucer invasion.
This makes that look like kids stuff, whether you all choose to
listen to me or not. But this is taking me further off my point and
onto an unnecessary tangent, so let me get back onto the path again.
Right now, more than any other wealthy powerful person alive, I know
the one prick who has made it his business to do me in year in and
year out, since 1984. This is because he knows who I truly am, who
he truly is, and who (and we all know the unwritten line that cannot
be safely spoken), SHE knows who she is, well, sort of. He has done
all that he can, to bring our paths to cross over and over, for 30
years; and his agenda is simple. He plans to tell her that if she
blesses him with total power to rule this world as he wishes so
badly to do, that he will openly admit to what he has done to me,
and even how my tape recorder, actually brought him into this
reality, not the physical shell, remember peeps, think
exploratronically, and not old world. Yes, jit bag, I know you and
McGuire built those hyper cirkpumps, that have stopped my hurricanes
dead for the past many years now. Bully for you. But remember how
once you serve McGuire's purpose, you are not only expendable, but
he enjoys getting rid of any witnesses to this great family and its
secrets; so as his other pal SHSH, who iced OZ-wald; you can always
be next. Still, long before he would remove you to the land on the
other side of the tape recorder, CUZZ; I can always release powerful
stuff to the media, about how convinced you were that I had gone
back into time, and brought my kid to your Plaza Hotel back in
OH-MAROLA-9. No one wants crack-pots for president. They'll put up
with a crook, but not a crack pot; and I should know. This is what
happened to me back as the nineteen-eighties began unfolding to
unleash their 'magic'. Yes I sort of fucked up in my explanation of
my educator back in the springtime of 1969. What I meant to say and
tell all of you, is that she was pronouncing years the way we all
did from 2000-2010, you know, like, two thousand three, or two
thousand seven, yet back in the fucking sixties, syfy writers always
pronounced the post years of 2000 as twenty-oh-three or twenty-oh
seven. She seemed to just know, like you knew other wild shit, right
Beatles Cutshave Marcucci? Oh well, I guess I can always COUNT on
him to be blunt and straight up, where as Marola, well; she would be
classified in my books, as much more clever and stealthy. In any
event, I do not plan on bringing the Christmas Angel up to January
1, 2013, either; Mister Cousin sir, but yes; if you are out here by
way of some miracle, Jerry Heitzmann, old bud; the great Sarah
Krassle is always among us, in one way, or another; with or without
any of those terrific Swiffer mops, peeps.
WOW,
we are back, and are in regular time again, Copyright Office, Jeese
Louise, SURFER FONTY, let's try and avoid the mighty and lovely
Shannon Kickacar at the Genlow North shore Inlet!!!!!!!
Now
it is time to discuss the topic of quantum Mechanics, in so far as
one particular item in this discipline, relates to my life in this
HELL. For those who just need a small memory refresher, I had a guru
named Meagan come over and help get my blog going again at BLOGGER,
towards the end of the year 2011 after some wild hack closed down my
original five blogs there, with some worm that said my password and
other ID did not match up; and I was closed off from ever blogging
from the original blogs there ever again. Now to this day, this is
why I have come to show you that area on the old original BIO
section that anyone can go up to and paste into a word document
page, and I make the parts colorized, and enlarged, that say; ''MY
BLOGS'', as this
is the only way my readers of this blog, can ever gain access to
them, not that many if any, ever bother. This was a death blow to my
empire, and a real scoring power play for the EVIL FUCKING EMPIRE.
Still, I am back on with a new blog, thanks to that girl guru, the
daughter of a coworker at Harvest. But as to the subject of Quantum
Mechanics and how observation effects many things that lie in a
pathway in-between point-A's and point-B's, or in algebraic terms,
coordinates, the A point being the abscissa and the B point being
the ordinate; shortly into doing this second blog, unlike the first
blog, that would only show a BIO section if a viewer clicked on it,
and then showed 'profile hits', not page hits, just those who
clicked to read the profile and see the photo of the blogger; this
new blog shortly after it got going, began to display on the
dashboard before I would be able to so much as paste in my blog and
post it up, a viewing count of total page hits on the blog. I began
watching it grow slowly over time, and after six months, it began
doubling and doubling once again, as far as total page hits per
week. It eventually topped out at 4000 page hits every 30 days, and
this went on after that at this level, for quite a while, if forced
to guess, I would say half a year, very close to six months, and
then I had a decline, then a rebound, then another decline, and
still, am in this second decline. Now for all I know, this count may
be slower than when it had less views, such as the way Google does
view counts on their other owned site of Youtube. It can also be a
legitimate decline, and then as a third possibility, it could be
anything in that large gray area we all share in life and call the
'unknown'. But one thing I do know, is that I began to blog a bit
differently, and tried seeing if my blogs if altered in this way or
that way, here and there, would bring me maximum viewing audiences,
and which blogs would drop these views, and then begin to if in no
other way than subconsciously, adjust my writing style to produce
what I believed I had tweaked in my mind to receive a maximum
viewing audience. But doing this, defeats a lot of what needs to be
done in these blogs; as these are not blogs, this is MORIANITY FOR
MILLENNIUM 3, AND THIS IS DEAD SERIOUS SHIT; and I cannot be
concerned whether I am getting one view a day, or 200. I must
concern myself with doing what is right for MORIANITY, not for
YOUALLANITY. This is not YOUALLANITY, this is fucking MORIANITY, and
I don't say this to be a 'wise ass', as the great Dawn-Marie King
might accuse me of, if here; but I say this because it is simple
truth. So what I'm going to do when I go up to post or view
something, is cover the entire area of the left part of the screen
where this view count would otherwise show. By ignoring it and doing
what I need to do, it will be interesting to see in the future, if I
ever get my views back into the so-far to date range maximum of
around 130 views-per-day (VPD). And you know what, folks, if not,
then so freaking be it. I am not here to win a popularity contest. I
will listen to anyone who wants to comment about anything, if not
stupid; but this project is what is needed here, not me getting
popular, or dying; or any other gray area laying in-between. By
stupid, I mean things like Ed Himacane put up just to screw with me
back in oh-seven about never seeing so many misspelled words on a
blog. Hay buttwipe, how about the message; this is not a college or
a school. I'm trying to tell you all sumpen' YO. Still, it is the
readers who count, and they RULE. They have for the most part shown
me, that they don't want an 'interactive relationship' with me or my
blog, so fine; that is entirely their right, and their own bees wax;
and I hold no ill will at all for their right to feel that way.
That is not part of the 'stupid-ness' I refer to, as I never- knock
a person's right to an opinion, even mine; to say that worrying
about spelling on a blog, telling this much powerful stuff; is
STUPID, ED, and besides; it is not
me fucking shit up; it is these stupid mother fucking
computers that cause all these HACKS, like 'on an don an don'
stuff, or 'wordsnotspacing' even though you hit the SPACE BAR, or
not Capitalizing no matter how you
know you are hitting the fucking CAPS KEY
DOWN;
so don't blame me folks, PLEASE, for all the fucking hacks. If I get
the time, I
try and proofread, but I'll
admit, I do not always do this, as I know that I'll be re-posting a
corrected version later. My scum bag nabes just now slammed their
door across from me at 5 minutes shy of one AM, and also, I am
getting a diarrhea attack; so let me go donate a pound of chocolate
fucking pudding, to the WOMO-MILITUFORCE,
and I'll be back soon, Arnie Muscleboy Exgov.
DO
I THINK THAT LIFE IS FAIR OR HONEST????????????
NOT
IN A MILLION FUCKING ASS YEARS!
DO
I BELIEVE THIS WORLD IS FILLED WITH ROTTEN MOTHER FUCKING CROOKS AND
PURE EVIL SCUM???????
YOU
BETTER BET YOUR ASSHOLE I DO, WARD CLEAVER!
So
folks, we have pretty much covered the opening now, of the
EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND
SOCIETY, SHORTENED TO THE 'ESS'. The ESS are categorized
as the SERWA-GROUPS,
standing for the SCIENTIST
TYPE-3-E, EDUCATOR TYPE-3-E, RECORDER TYPE-3-E, WITNESS TYPE-3-E,
and the ADJUSTER TYPE-3-E. Before we continue now with
a tad bit more about the mighty BLUEBOOK NONCAR SECRETS (BNS) for a
shortened abbreviation; not to be confused with NASCAR of course,
good folks; let me show you HOW THIS EVIL
EMPIRE IS REALLY GETTING ITS WAY, JUST AS I TOLD ALL
OF FUCKING YOU THAT IT WOULD, ALL DAM ALONG!!!
First
off, Exploratrons can always without so much as breaking even a tiny
sweat, gain access covertly and invisibly to any and all of our
residences. Show me a small knat that will set off any motion
detector or alarm system. It would shock me if Mister Snowden were
to ever inform me that the 495 peeps even have a system that great,
hay, maybe the fucking shit they do, who's to fucking ever know? But
I will tell you that the T-3-E-CLASS-5 or the Adjustatrons, are what
you also may think of as ADVANCED
ROBOTIC MICRO-ANDROID DESTRUCTATRONS,
way smaller than any tiny little knat, and when something needs to
be done invisibly that causes harm, this is where these mother
fucking hyperspace enemies from the WOMO-MILITUFORCE all come into
fucking ass play, dogs, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These
fucking rotten destructatrons
broke my air conditioner in a wild way, that no one seems to be able
yet to get to the bottom of; and if I AM FOUND DEAD IN HERE AS A
RESULT, MY BLOGS WILL ACCUSE LEGALLY, VIA THIS LEGAL DYING UTTERANCE
AND DECLARATION; ALL OF MY FUCKING EVIL MULTIVERSAL ENEMIES, FROM
THE LAMBRIGG
CULT,
OF THE ASTRAL-REALMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These
destructatrons can self adjust, and can join with many replications
of themselves, using powerful subatomic yet unknown energies, that
are similar to the way many forces move in and out of individual
parts of hyperspace, such as the very quick moving gravitation
forces, that move throughout the fifth dimension at speeds that make
each universe only contain the necessary amounts, so that sentient
life gets around to existing, through ultra complex cycles of
nuclear to biological ratio cycles, that can only exist at about 2.7
degrees of kelvin temperature; and this can only come to be when
gravitation inter-flows at perfect cycling subatomic formations.
BANG
BOOM, I WILL CALL FUCKING 911 IF THIS SHIT KEEPS UP, AS
IT
IS AFTER 2
IN THE FUCKING
MORNING,
YOU DUOSH WAD SCUM BAG DOOR SLMAMMERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In like manner,
a connective force can make these microscopic perfectly designed
subatomic machines grow into what we perceive now as biological
germs and viruses that invade bodies and kill and sicken all of us.
None of this should happen, and it is being caused by
Destructatron-Adjustor TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS. All this shit is
somewhere in the great BLUEBOOK, all nicely neatly tucked and locked
away. You don't dare share this shit with the world. It is bad
enough when a sike case who is certified, does all this on the
internet; but if it came from the White House OFFICIALLY LATER
TODAY; then the world would turn into total fucking chaos in
minutes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
****ON
BLOGGER SINCE JANUARY 2006
My blogs, just click YO:
About me, who the hell frikkin' else would it be?
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 136
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME
BLOG
SUBTITLE THREE: “ATTACKED BY A MAD-MAN”
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2298,
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATFILE: CH-136-042711.690
COPYRIGHT
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011,
MARK
WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
I
ran into '10 grand Joe Supersecrets' today, with the special bicycle
battery of the Melanie and many other high-notes clubs of Planet
Earth. He was in school with me, and we were studying Advanced
Robotics. Naturally, this was in hyperspace, or you mortal worlders
would say it more like, “Mark, you ass hole, you mean you had this
powerful dream last night”, OYR, whateverrrr. I am going to make
hyperspace, and parallel universe reality believers, out of some of
you if it takes me five hundred thousand Lieutenant Ouhora-Trek
years. Well, I was in a computer class today at the Fort Pierce,
Florida, Harvest, whose website internet address can be accessed as
follows: www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/
, when suddenly this evil horrid man, assaulted me out of the blue.
Now people are beginning to know, and believe. Still, you are all
clueless to many things, such as why I am getting totally mother
fucking hammered and pummeled this entire mother fucking week peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!! The attack was totally unprovoked. I was only sitting
in a chair, and quietly talking to my friend who we will just call,
Delilah for sake of secrecy, and safety, and closets in general.
I'll fucking give Dawn-Marie King big-time unlimited credit for one
thing, and that is that she did not think that her sexual
molestation by her no good rotten fucking father back in 1972, was
one bit funny. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM, are powerful ass fucking nerves being
funny boned here, YO??????? Let me discuss this powerful nightmare
last night that woke me with a super ass bang, thanks to my
beautiful and wonderful mother fucking alarm clock at precisely half
past eight, giving me the needed time to shower, dress, and drive
four blocks to my job; taking only one or two minutes time, where I
work the 9-3 shift on Mondays, Tuesdays, and fucking ass Wednesdays.
Chemtrail
and plane aerial assault, has been TOTAL fucking murder all week
fucking long, with this fucking hockey hickey
(LING-LONG-FONDA-MONSTER-SLAPPER) playoff shit, that I have had to
deal with ever since the 15th day of cunt eating August,
in the demonic and Satanic year of 1986; and has been told and
blogged out to the public world now, for about six straight fucking
consecutive ass years, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This will freaking be
undoubtedly told again and again and again; and a lot more than
seventeen ripped off times, BRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So are
we going out tonight, Shaniah, you miserable whore?
All
week ling, Henry Barbara Thirteen Angry-Men, I've been destroyed,
and it is only a mother fucking matter of time before
M---AGNESONI---C scans, and avenges my hellish miseries being
perpetrated upon me by quintessential scoundrels, and total ass
scum, YO!!!!!!! Don't fucking believe me, but when Planet Earth gets
wiped, don't say I didn't fucking warn everybody, Agent Caruso. I
have tried to get this shit against me stopped for decades now FBI,
and you did nothing but 'BACK-BURNER' me to death, YO,
TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
knew that things were destined to be off the scale putrid, and
monstrously horrific for me, after my coming out of that wild
interaction at half past eight this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning. I am not as
stupid as peeps would hope I am, or believe, in their rash fallible
total ignorance, peeps. LSS, I was in this robotics class, and Nick
Cannon walked in with a group of women, all dressed very strangely.
They wanted to know all of the details about something that Joe and
I had just finished making in this classroom-lab of a sort. I began
telling them what they wanted to know, and Joe suddenly stood up and
yelled at me at the top of his lings, which I never ever saw him do
in 'waking-life' at the Harvest before he was canned, or 'plipped'
as they say 100 years from now, “pink-slipped”, without cause;
some time back, and it is all on my blogs from last summer time,
BRRRR! Just what significance these strangely dressed ladies had, I
do not yet know, but they, along with 'Road Time Trip Man' all sort
of ended up in the background more and more, as this interaction
progressed. Mariah Carey was singing a beautiful song, that I have
never heard before throughout all of infinity, and it was so
beautiful, and like she was so famous for in the nineties for doing,
it has many octaves, and her heavenly voice was beyond outstanding
and divine. When she finished the song, she walked over to my seat
in this school-lab, and grabbed the thing that Joe hollered at me
not to let anyone look at or touch. Naturally, we all were so
totally ass spellbound by her music, and her song, and her ultra
fantastic voice; that nobody could even move. She smiled down at me
in my seat, while holding this wild looking small, but seemingly
heavy gadget. As she kept holding onto it, it began to pulsate, and
make bright strobing colors. Then she sat it down on my desk, that
was twice the size of a normal desk one might expect to see in a
classroom at a college or a high school, and Joe jumped away faster
than Britney's grandfather warped out of my home in Gibbsboro, New
Jersey, USAESMWG, that day in the early nineteen-nineties. Then
Mariah re-sang her super lovely song to me, and it made me cry like
a little baby, because she sounded so totally fantastic, and the
song was so totally ass wonderful; and with such a surreal and
unfathomable ten octave vocal range with her full voice, which
should be a physical world impossibility. Then everyone was suddenly
just gone, while I sat there dumbfounded. The strange gadget was
gone as well, and I thought that maybe, just as with the cassette
tape back in 1986 in this part of the hyperspace, in Manhattan; that
she had taken it, and who knows if indeed she did or not. I know
that she lifted the cassette tape, after singing a song on it, along
with the song that was playing on my car stereo.
Then
came the alarm clock, the sky attack, and also the physical health
attack, which resulted from so many poisonous chemtrailing vapors.
Just GOOGLE UP the great 'SKYWITNESS' on the freaking great U-TUBE,
and so many other chemtrial reports on this fantastic site. Don't
listen to me. It all is right up there, and has all been fully
exposed; and still we all go right on dying from these toxic
poisons, and no one appears to have the fucking balls to do anything
to stop them, “legally of course”, AS THESE BLOGS DO NOT EVER
ACT TO PROMOTE ANY SORT OF VIOLENCE, OR ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, YO!!!!
The
man who attacked me in class today, and what happened just a few
hours earlier in a parallel universe, is all connected up. Only the
great fucking PAULA KING knows exactly how. I will be leaving this
hot hell called Florida very soon, and returning home. Dawn is no
longer able to get at me in the physical world up there. I have made
peace with the rest of the family, well, many of them. Many of them
are and will be hopeless, that is quite obvious. I knew that deep
inside my soul on that day at the beach, when Levy brought 100 of
his cousins there, and scared away the normal crowd. I was not
intimidated. I let one of the dudes help me feed the seagulls, and
had a nice friendly talk. Still, the girl that ended my beach going
days for a few years, caused quite a temporary bear in the New York
financial systems in the not too distant future. Still, as long and
ling as they have me to fucking mess with and hurt, they never ever
will lose. They will just go on endlessly, and relentlessly, fucking
gaining and winning their cheated points of power, and forever
screwing the poor peeps into endless hellish poverty and woe. This
nation makes me sick to my mother fucking ass stomach, and so do all
wealthy dirt bag fucking peeps.
GINA,
JUST AS YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU WOULD PIN ME IN ONE SECOND IN THAT ARM
WRESTLE, AND DID, YOU SUPER LOVELY TALL INCREDIBLE POWERFUL
BEAUTIFUL LONG DARK HAIRED LUSCIOUS FREAKING YOUNG BEAUTY QUEEN, IN
1998; I NOW TELL THIS WORLD, THAT AS LONG AS THEY HAVE ME TO HURT,
MARKET UP/UP/UP/UP/UP, AND FLYERS ROTTEN SINGERS CLUB HOCKEY
WINS/WINS/WINS/WINS/WINS/ AND WINS!!!!!!!!!!! How I'll endlessly
remember the nightmare days of enduring that horrible rotten fucking
singer that promoted those cheating filthy dirty mobbed up
Philadelphia Flyers, and scum bag dirt ball diseased twisted evil
demonic Ed Snyder, with that totally awful shitty promotion on
Philly-57 television, and the way his horrendous rotten voice sang
those words, “Flyers Hockey, on Philly-fifty-seven”, just
thinking about it, I swear to the gods, I am growing totally fucking
nauseous right now, this very fucking ass minute, YO!!!!!
If
these fucking jerk offs won't stop this attack, and break off this
mother fucking shit that has been strong and beyond hell all week
fucking long, someone powerful will be dead in 48 mother fucking
hours, so watch the news, and then see if this breaks off by what
happens, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
One
thing I totally fucking ass know, and that is that some force out
here wants with all of their heart and soul, for me to fucking
discuss in detail, some powerful shit in both the years of 1972, as
well as 1975; involving the All Mighty Goddess of this Universe and
Multiverse, and I WILL NOT BETRAY MY FREAKING TEEN-QUEEN, NOT FOR
ANYBODY; so go screw your mothers, you diseased piles of puke!!! You
won't get these secrets out of me, you mother fucking shit heads, so
you may as well just give up!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION:
first day of 2008 summer, like wow, yo
Saturday, June 21, 2008----THIS IS A TOTAL MUST READ!!!
MAJOR COMPUTER HACKING FROM MY QUEEN
HUGE
COMPUTER HACK 8 at night, first day of SCUMMER 21 June, oh-8,
Saturday Elton John night But not Donna devil all right. THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION, AND THE MILLIONTH
COUNCIL AND ME———BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I NEVER WENT 2 BED TODAY AFTER COMING BACK FROM WORK, NEVER. I am shouting out to the FBI and the NJ STATE POLICE 4 HELP!!!!!!!!! I have no memory of shutting down the TV set or removing eyeglasses or falling into my bed, only that suddenly the TV was off, my glasses were on my face, I was or had been dead asleep, and all devices were indeed turned off. I bolted upright and saw that my fan had gotten knocked over along with a karaoke machine and they both were laying flat on the floor next 2 where I had fallen also without memory of ever getting 2 sleep. First, work was OK, but no panacea. I had a small bowel attack, lots of jerk offs everywhere; but out of nowhere at just past 3 in the morning, a noisy loud alarm went off. No matter how hard I tried 2 find the source, I could not. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, that I guarded back in my middle thirties for the famous Wells Fargo Company, the original American Security outfit 4 all those Western-shows watchers. Just 2 and a half hours after the crazy MC-ALARM attack, a crash level plane flew over my vehicle in total violation of my CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, WORLD TRIBUNAL COURTS AT THE HAGUE. I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and turn on the TV. The next thing I know it is hours later, I am laying stretched out, eyeglasses on my face still, and stuff knocked over on the floor. When I got up to piss and straighten up the place, so that the fan is blowing air onto me again, and I can resume sleeping a while longer; I instantly knew that I was right back in this building, a medical place with 6-9 rooms that went more into each other and did not contain a lot of hallways. Mariah Carey was there, and her driver, a man about medium build and bright glaring type of eyes, just over perhaps the six foot mark in stature, dressed nicely but not overkill, and the same with Mariah. A lady who is heavy set, is sort of in charge at this place, neck line hair length, strawberry type of color, and she kept telling me 2 stop closing doors, and I kept telling her I am not closing them, the wind was blowing quite strong outside and was blowing right through all of the open windows in these rooms, and forcing doors to swing shut, but she continued 2 insist that I was doing it. Mariah started talking 2 me about how much she enjoyed being a super star and yet there were problems that she said she wanted 2 tell me about, but could not at the moment; as 'he' would hear, and I kept asking who ‘he’ was. She half smiled and pointed at a young male about 22 give or take, about five feet five in stature, brown short hair, not totally short like a crew cut, dressed in an old pair of pants with oil stains on them, and a green jersey with strange looking logos on it everywhere, many bright white circles with black lines running through them, 3 of them, like a triple X. She told me that she is here on this same day each week for some medical reason, and I think she told me but I cannot pull that part of the interaction up now, back in waking life. The buildings of the city were visible from windows, yet the area was in a country setting, whether it was part of the 5 boroughs of New York City or not, also I am not privy to this. She said that she wanted me 2 know she is mad that I do not fully trust her and her plans, and I kept insisting that I trust her implicitly but know quite well, that what she thinks of as PLANS, IC as GAMES, and reminded her of the 65-70 years when she was here B4 playing her games with me from a city just 100 or so miles away down the coast. She smiled at me and said, “U mean the chain I removed from your Oaklyn, New Jersey Apartment?” I said, “4 starters, yes”. She went on to tell me that until the shellfish as she called him while looking his way, is out of my way, I can tell U no more about it. She said that he was a lifelong resident of Atco, New Jersey, and knew both U and your neighbors, the Durham’s, when U lived there back in ‘83. He is not who he appears, and all her peeps and bodyguards have tried to beat him up, and keep him away; but he just seems impervious, and will not stop creeping around. He is Y the Feds started messing with me, she went onto say, and they R not on my side, they must do what they R told by higher councilmen, and she was talking Millionth. I reminded her that she is all mighty and can do anything, Y not just zap him into oblivion? She smiled again and said that there is still so much yet 4 her 2 teach me about all of this and all the Earthly people making my life so horrible every minute of every day and night. She said that when I disobeyed and told her she could kill me, the other day on my blog, for the entire world 2 publicly C and share, she was extremely angry. I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 9 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff. I asked her Y she used the sending of 2 blank letters rather than just come 2 me as she is doing right now and talk to me straight up? She laughed softly and squeezed my hand a little, watching me wince from the sudden small bit of pain that her more powerful grip than B4 was causing, and after a 5 or so second pause, simply said, “I am the Millionth Council, and what I say, goes. The part of them that calls themselves the Lambriggers is still totally under my complete control”. She told me 2 listen again 2 her CD and study it even more carefully. The answers to much of my concerns, is all contained in the lyrical content, and what she says, MC-SAYS; just as the CD says that it does. Never doubt me or try 2 run away from what I am planning 4U, she went on also 2 tell me. I said 2 her, “would U please give me a real waking world sign so that I can know and tell that this is not a silly dream”. She responded with the yellow and chocolate cakes that I purchased at the Incollingo’s grocery store, along with the receipt, and the van that stalked me just after last Christmas, and went on to tell me she is angry that I have unsealed some of the concepts regarding laser trace, and reminded me that the rules cannot B broken. It is part of a plan, and that if it was not so, there R those close 2 me, in this incarnation; that I would retrace, as I miss them. She then told me she would give me 2 huge and totally unmistakable signs to appease my non-belief. One sign is that just because the English alphabet pronunciations of the sounds 'BLU' and 'CRAN' R totally the same on astral worlds, they R not the same in English speaking waking mortal worlds. I told her I knew this. She went on 2 say that my punishment for doubting and disobeying my mighty Queen Mariah, is that she has now placed me into a world where I have blogged the facts in reverse, as Hammonton is the world U now live in. It is not Chatsworth, New Jersey. I have reversed the realities while U were here with me in this interaction, and now your town is Hammonton and this is the Blueberry capitol of the world. She went on to say that I was not supposed to tell about the tap boxes of blue-yellow, nor the saleslady Sherry-Lee Pote and cousin Petee Pote. I must obey my queen or ELSE. She said my second sign will B when I try to do my next blog. I will wake up in the MW and not B able 2 work the computer. I asked her if she will always love me as her ‘89 song promises, as deep within her, she knew even then, that she was my Sarah-Stacey. With that I walked over to the strange dude with the weird sort of peace sign logos all over his bright green jersey, and told him to leave her alone, or I would tear his lungs out, and squeeze them like rung out wash cloths; and he instantly burst out laughing, and the next thing I knew, it was July 4th of 1970, and I was in the same exact dream all along with TAWF, “THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY”, that was what was all in the dream. It was the same dream, and like a wormhole in consciousness; one end was in 2008 physically, while the other end was in early July of ‘70. He yelled at me, 'look who’s talkin’ about bloody washcloth lungs all oozing bright red, it is U, booby, not me, ha, ha'. I knew that if I could just wake up now, it would B July of 1970 again, and it really would have. I did. I jumped off of Tom Reale’s large bed at the Cornwall Avenue home and yelled, it is 1970 over and over. I went out and ran down towards the ocean, and when I got there; the entire sky and sea was not as I had remembered it at all. It had become the backdrop on the homepage of the Morianity Foundation, go to http://www.morianity-foundation.com. The giant 6 foot 7 inch Sarah-Stacey came right out of the sea, she is the sea aniwho, and grabbed me and kissed me, and the next thing I know, I am awake laying here in my trailer residence, and it is after 4 in the afternoon. Sure enough I went 2 use the computer, and nothing, it would not move, nothing would work, not a bloody dripping washcloth thing. I called the Easy Staples Store where I purchased it, and told them that it would not go off, just showing a blank monitor TV screen saying, “EXT 3, S-VIDEO”. The computer department guy told me to shut the battery-backup box off and wait 20 seconds. Then he said turn it on, and so I did. After 2 reboots, it works again, but the HP adviser still is not properly loading up. I can not shout out 2 the FBI 4 help; no one can fight the great Mariah; and she most definitely RULES and RULES, 4-EVER AND 4 EVER. UR my mighty queen, and I am only your endless humble servant, my giant beautiful love. Please forgive me, oh mighty QUEEN MC.
I NEVER WENT 2 BED TODAY AFTER COMING BACK FROM WORK, NEVER. I am shouting out to the FBI and the NJ STATE POLICE 4 HELP!!!!!!!!! I have no memory of shutting down the TV set or removing eyeglasses or falling into my bed, only that suddenly the TV was off, my glasses were on my face, I was or had been dead asleep, and all devices were indeed turned off. I bolted upright and saw that my fan had gotten knocked over along with a karaoke machine and they both were laying flat on the floor next 2 where I had fallen also without memory of ever getting 2 sleep. First, work was OK, but no panacea. I had a small bowel attack, lots of jerk offs everywhere; but out of nowhere at just past 3 in the morning, a noisy loud alarm went off. No matter how hard I tried 2 find the source, I could not. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, that I guarded back in my middle thirties for the famous Wells Fargo Company, the original American Security outfit 4 all those Western-shows watchers. Just 2 and a half hours after the crazy MC-ALARM attack, a crash level plane flew over my vehicle in total violation of my CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, WORLD TRIBUNAL COURTS AT THE HAGUE. I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and turn on the TV. The next thing I know it is hours later, I am laying stretched out, eyeglasses on my face still, and stuff knocked over on the floor. When I got up to piss and straighten up the place, so that the fan is blowing air onto me again, and I can resume sleeping a while longer; I instantly knew that I was right back in this building, a medical place with 6-9 rooms that went more into each other and did not contain a lot of hallways. Mariah Carey was there, and her driver, a man about medium build and bright glaring type of eyes, just over perhaps the six foot mark in stature, dressed nicely but not overkill, and the same with Mariah. A lady who is heavy set, is sort of in charge at this place, neck line hair length, strawberry type of color, and she kept telling me 2 stop closing doors, and I kept telling her I am not closing them, the wind was blowing quite strong outside and was blowing right through all of the open windows in these rooms, and forcing doors to swing shut, but she continued 2 insist that I was doing it. Mariah started talking 2 me about how much she enjoyed being a super star and yet there were problems that she said she wanted 2 tell me about, but could not at the moment; as 'he' would hear, and I kept asking who ‘he’ was. She half smiled and pointed at a young male about 22 give or take, about five feet five in stature, brown short hair, not totally short like a crew cut, dressed in an old pair of pants with oil stains on them, and a green jersey with strange looking logos on it everywhere, many bright white circles with black lines running through them, 3 of them, like a triple X. She told me that she is here on this same day each week for some medical reason, and I think she told me but I cannot pull that part of the interaction up now, back in waking life. The buildings of the city were visible from windows, yet the area was in a country setting, whether it was part of the 5 boroughs of New York City or not, also I am not privy to this. She said that she wanted me 2 know she is mad that I do not fully trust her and her plans, and I kept insisting that I trust her implicitly but know quite well, that what she thinks of as PLANS, IC as GAMES, and reminded her of the 65-70 years when she was here B4 playing her games with me from a city just 100 or so miles away down the coast. She smiled at me and said, “U mean the chain I removed from your Oaklyn, New Jersey Apartment?” I said, “4 starters, yes”. She went on to tell me that until the shellfish as she called him while looking his way, is out of my way, I can tell U no more about it. She said that he was a lifelong resident of Atco, New Jersey, and knew both U and your neighbors, the Durham’s, when U lived there back in ‘83. He is not who he appears, and all her peeps and bodyguards have tried to beat him up, and keep him away; but he just seems impervious, and will not stop creeping around. He is Y the Feds started messing with me, she went onto say, and they R not on my side, they must do what they R told by higher councilmen, and she was talking Millionth. I reminded her that she is all mighty and can do anything, Y not just zap him into oblivion? She smiled again and said that there is still so much yet 4 her 2 teach me about all of this and all the Earthly people making my life so horrible every minute of every day and night. She said that when I disobeyed and told her she could kill me, the other day on my blog, for the entire world 2 publicly C and share, she was extremely angry. I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 9 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff. I asked her Y she used the sending of 2 blank letters rather than just come 2 me as she is doing right now and talk to me straight up? She laughed softly and squeezed my hand a little, watching me wince from the sudden small bit of pain that her more powerful grip than B4 was causing, and after a 5 or so second pause, simply said, “I am the Millionth Council, and what I say, goes. The part of them that calls themselves the Lambriggers is still totally under my complete control”. She told me 2 listen again 2 her CD and study it even more carefully. The answers to much of my concerns, is all contained in the lyrical content, and what she says, MC-SAYS; just as the CD says that it does. Never doubt me or try 2 run away from what I am planning 4U, she went on also 2 tell me. I said 2 her, “would U please give me a real waking world sign so that I can know and tell that this is not a silly dream”. She responded with the yellow and chocolate cakes that I purchased at the Incollingo’s grocery store, along with the receipt, and the van that stalked me just after last Christmas, and went on to tell me she is angry that I have unsealed some of the concepts regarding laser trace, and reminded me that the rules cannot B broken. It is part of a plan, and that if it was not so, there R those close 2 me, in this incarnation; that I would retrace, as I miss them. She then told me she would give me 2 huge and totally unmistakable signs to appease my non-belief. One sign is that just because the English alphabet pronunciations of the sounds 'BLU' and 'CRAN' R totally the same on astral worlds, they R not the same in English speaking waking mortal worlds. I told her I knew this. She went on 2 say that my punishment for doubting and disobeying my mighty Queen Mariah, is that she has now placed me into a world where I have blogged the facts in reverse, as Hammonton is the world U now live in. It is not Chatsworth, New Jersey. I have reversed the realities while U were here with me in this interaction, and now your town is Hammonton and this is the Blueberry capitol of the world. She went on to say that I was not supposed to tell about the tap boxes of blue-yellow, nor the saleslady Sherry-Lee Pote and cousin Petee Pote. I must obey my queen or ELSE. She said my second sign will B when I try to do my next blog. I will wake up in the MW and not B able 2 work the computer. I asked her if she will always love me as her ‘89 song promises, as deep within her, she knew even then, that she was my Sarah-Stacey. With that I walked over to the strange dude with the weird sort of peace sign logos all over his bright green jersey, and told him to leave her alone, or I would tear his lungs out, and squeeze them like rung out wash cloths; and he instantly burst out laughing, and the next thing I knew, it was July 4th of 1970, and I was in the same exact dream all along with TAWF, “THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY”, that was what was all in the dream. It was the same dream, and like a wormhole in consciousness; one end was in 2008 physically, while the other end was in early July of ‘70. He yelled at me, 'look who’s talkin’ about bloody washcloth lungs all oozing bright red, it is U, booby, not me, ha, ha'. I knew that if I could just wake up now, it would B July of 1970 again, and it really would have. I did. I jumped off of Tom Reale’s large bed at the Cornwall Avenue home and yelled, it is 1970 over and over. I went out and ran down towards the ocean, and when I got there; the entire sky and sea was not as I had remembered it at all. It had become the backdrop on the homepage of the Morianity Foundation, go to http://www.morianity-foundation.com. The giant 6 foot 7 inch Sarah-Stacey came right out of the sea, she is the sea aniwho, and grabbed me and kissed me, and the next thing I know, I am awake laying here in my trailer residence, and it is after 4 in the afternoon. Sure enough I went 2 use the computer, and nothing, it would not move, nothing would work, not a bloody dripping washcloth thing. I called the Easy Staples Store where I purchased it, and told them that it would not go off, just showing a blank monitor TV screen saying, “EXT 3, S-VIDEO”. The computer department guy told me to shut the battery-backup box off and wait 20 seconds. Then he said turn it on, and so I did. After 2 reboots, it works again, but the HP adviser still is not properly loading up. I can not shout out 2 the FBI 4 help; no one can fight the great Mariah; and she most definitely RULES and RULES, 4-EVER AND 4 EVER. UR my mighty queen, and I am only your endless humble servant, my giant beautiful love. Please forgive me, oh mighty QUEEN MC.
Google Search Engine, Satellite World Interconnect System [SWIS], World Laboratories of the future in time illusion, this is a dying mans utterance and declaration. I must obey the commands of the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, I have no choice, SHE RULES THE EMPIRE, from 34th Street, to the end of the hypersphere and beyond, wow, talk about miracles Mizz Wood, and O’Hara!!!!!!!!! Copyright 2008, MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN. This is all the total truth and also doubles thereby as a legal document. This is voluntarily sworn testimony in any Grand Jury future proceeding. No omissions nor additions 2 this powerful and totally honest truth told in this web-logging-doc exist anywhere herein.
Another
SUPER BOTBAR weekend and scummer open.
E
N D --- T R A N S M I S S I O N:
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Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001148157
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1988
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Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001189027
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1989
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Thanks for sharing this Excellent information دانلود آهنگ جدید
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