NOVEMBER
21, 2013,
THURSDAY
MORNING AT 12:22
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 74 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”
“UNTRUE
UNIVERSE HOPPER MARK, RIGHT TAXI DRIVER KAREN GRASSI?”
SUBTITLED,
PART TWO OF DA CONTRASTS BLOG, MMCN-71
Well
peeps, TODAY WAS A NICE MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR, but not just any
fucking botbar. IT WAS MY 100TH BLOTBAR FOR 2013, AND BILLY AND
SALLY, YO; “THAT'S SAYIN' SOMETHING”. I won't lie and say I have
not been given my share of good advice from the rock stars of the
world because I am not a fucking liar, Captain 1981 Crawford, sir.
Billy's advice to me about staying to myself, was pitch fucking ass
perfect, 100% of the cent, speaking of vocalists such as him and a
slew of others along my great lengthy pathway through STM!
Peeps,
before I move along, I will draw you an updated fucking picture of
November-2013 MPB remember this is short abbreviated for MAGNETIC
PERCENTAGE BOTBAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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
14-----38
NOVEMBER
14-----43
NOVEMBER
15-----47
NOVEMBER
16-----44
NOVEMBER
17-----41
NOVEMBER
18-----44
NOVEMBER
19-----42
NOVEMBER
20-----45
THINGS
HAVEN'T BEEN THIS MOTHER FUCKING ROTTEN ASS BAD FOLKS SINCE THE CUNT
LAPPING EIGHTIES AND NINETIES WHEN SHIT WAS AT ITS ABSOLUTE COCK
SUCKING FUCKING WORST FOR ME WITH THIS HUNTINGTON MISERABLE DICK
CHEWING FAMILY JIM BURR NIGHTMARE CURSE FROM
HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On
the mother fucking year of 2013, I am also at my absolute worst to
date on this fucking cunt chewing 324th day of the year,
which is MPB 31X7.The powerful fucking shit about MP equations is
that you already know the cunt chewing future. I knew there was no
way I could get through Wednesday and Thursday without another rotten
blow out fucking day, as if I could, it would drop the MPB on the
year down to 30% again where it has not been since it was 30 times a
minimum of a dozen or more, only math enthusiests appreciate all this
and would be pulling out calculators right about now, but my shit
does really honestly let me know before it fucking happens, the hell
around me and when it will keep on exploding. This is why in cock
licking 1997 in the summer time when things were so bad I was really
going to blow my fucking brains out in Somerdale, New Jersey, just
down the street from Karen's lovely real estate office; I couldn't
fucking take doing these cowks any more, and literally abandoned it
after 15 fucking straight years of meticulous record keeping, without
fail, every god dam day, General George. I am getting some bad
fucking hacking bob McDowell Johnny Fucker Faster-1972, old school
chum and now ruler of the Federal
Communications Commission, SIR! Also around just shy of
mother fucking cunt huffing eight last night, the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
shot a beam into this unit,, and wiped out all my remote control
video fucking shit again, SIR, nothing would work, I could not make
the cable box, the VCR, or the fucking TV respond to shit. This is no
solar flare, this is dirt bag TYPE THREE
FUCKING EXPLORATRONIC ESS ACTIVITY, working through our
current day BLACK FILE AGENCY systems, military systems, and all
other oppressive imperialistic evil empire control, that the
TRUTH-PATRIOTS
have been so far total failures at being able to fight against or
even prove this all exists. What a mother fucking evil demonic shame,
good folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where
this blog takes us next will be something ENEMIES do not want to
fucking deal fucking with, I promise, lovely MO. Hacking is getting
worse, Bob. I was never planning to go to places I now will be going,
because my mother fucking life is totally on the cock sucking line
with these horrible monster fucking bastards. They leave me no
choice, as Barney said to that lovely blond on that great TV show
from long back, ''DARK SHADOWS''. Don't let Dave's ghost shit on your
property, Roseann-1989-ENY-NSA-TTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!
Before
I do take us down to Forbidden Lane and Spellout Avenues of 1984 and
other times throughout STM-HS, ''PERMIT ME'' UNCLE HEINZ GOTTWALD of
175 Peninsula Drive in Babylon, New York, great mighty fucking sir;
to finish the blog from yesterday that I was going to do, but
suddenly became just too sleepy to continue, and brought things to a
temporary close. Some may wonder why my title was about contrasts,
and I need not be real long with this. But before I do get to it,
friends and fiends; right at the same time that my fucking REMOTE
CONTROLS were all interfered with by the NSA or their
Astral-Operatives, the ESS members within it; from the gods only know
where and when; let me tell you that the toothache-major button was
also activated up on their cunt chewing magical satellite somewhere,
as I have been in nasty ass fucking pain again ever since and this is
to the minute when the remote controls to all of my fucking video
equipment all went inoperative for about 15 solid fucking minutes.
OK,
peeps, why is it that I can try so mother fucking hard it hurts
squared, all my life, to do the right thing, and plant all the good
seeds and follow so-called garbage lying biblical rules of reap and
sow, and all I get back ever is shit and hell and fucking rubbish
balls shoved up my nostrils, while a murdering mother fucking scum
bag gets totally away with it, and then is in the media on a near
daily basis getting into 50 times more cunt eating trouble than
Lindsey Lohan and Justin Beiber combined, and they just let him walk
and walk and walk, and we all know, or should know, who I am speaking
about, the great monster demon from Floridian Hell itself, another
George, this one with a sir name of Zimmerman. You want the ultimate
contrast peeps, forget about taking billionaires and com[paring them
with us poor bums. This has a lot more human punching power to the
emotions, so let's fucking use it here, as controversial blogs are
blogs that get fucking read, according to fucking ass
GOOGLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We
will get even more into contrasts and how this is important in my
newest series of current blogs, on future blogs; for right now, let
me go to where I want to take you, my very fave subject and topic and
you all should indeed know this well by now, not just you Mister
Joel, H---Y---P---E---R---S---P---A---C---E!
HA
HA HA JANE FUCKING WHORE BITCHWEEDS ONECLOCKS SLUTFACE, YOU MISSED
ME, ITY IS QUARTER PAST ONE THIS CUNT CHEWING FUCKING ROTTEN
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, YO YO YO!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555
ANY WAY, U-BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What
that crumb and her hub did to me in '93 at the ballpark in Atlanta,
is criminal times ten to the fourteenth fucking ass power. But let's
forget shit, and move this blog along,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Why
did I create hyperspace characters such as Shorty MacInvondi in 1979?
Why did I create other characters in-between 1973 and 1983, for that
matter? Finally, why does all this shit work the way it does, as I
began after it all started to realize that nobody would be living in
a 130 dollar per month apartment in Oaklyn, New Jersey, who would
care about listening to my tapes outside my bedroom window, and then
just to fuck with me, make things all begin to happen and fall into
place that pertains to these tapes, nor would they have the ability
or power to indeed carry such an impossible mission off, even my
distant cousin Donnie couldn't pull it all off, once here, his real
true power lays on the other side of the world of the tape recording
machines, but if you ask him any of this, he will half smirk and half
frown at you, and then fire you perhaps, whether or not you work for
the asshole, right Tom Dooley. I am gonna' hang down my head and cry
before I am bound to die, John Marion Wayneduke, sir!!!!!! Well let's
fucking forget all the bullshit and clowning around now, and get down
to some cases here, YO folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bruce
Perfect Pennock, the 1972 human, from Barrington, New Jersey, taught
me a neat little trick in 1972, and all you needed was a 15 dollar
cassette tape recorder, and a pen with a certain type of ink filled
plastic tube that 'perfectly matched' a diameter size that allowed
it to be cut with a small pair of non rocks and non papers, to about
two inches long, and place it over the capstan of these tape
recording machines. This is all blogged about long ago, long fucking
before this current blog started in 2011. A lot more can be done in
hyperspace, than just cause volcanoes to blow, or earthquakes and
twisters and all that nastiness to start to happen. Those things are
a mere bi-product of powerful shit that goes on when you mess with
certain things, and this is why I wrote that fucking little ditty in
1983, called, ''Don't Ef Around with Magnetics''. Now The Trump is in
the Tower, and has trumped all of us with his last trump, but beyond
all this, he more than anyone alive, knows that I am for real, and
just who I really am, and all of it, but if asked, he'll fucking say,
''The asshole dirt-bag should be put away in
a sike ward for life''. You really think this prick is
going to admit to shit like being a Phase-4-Entity
from the Astral-Plane, who came here in violation of Lawtronic
Circuitry; by using my tape recordings and influencing my brain to do
all of this to begin with? Do you really think that this scrub nut
ass licking turd times ten, is going to say, ''Oh yes folks,
Mountainpen is totally right here, listen to him,
man''?????????????????? Think about the absurdity of this and then OK
fine, think about how absurd you may think my words all are, but then
ask yourself friggin' this, friends. Is one any more or less nutty to
believe, really? Give me a break, good friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555
AND 5555555555555555555555555555555555 AND
5555555555555555555555555555555555 AND 555555555555555555555555555555
AND JANE WHORE BITCH SLUT CRAPPERBRAINS got me, with that fucking
ass page eleven of eleven shit,
AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me stare at my fives now to
try and fucking cunt phlegm rape
(compensate)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WILL PISS ON YOUR GRAVE IF
IT TAKES ANOTHER 40 YEARS!!!
Where
would I even think about beginning a story of how I began playing in
all 5 dimensions? Only I can understand what I did and why, and what
has been done to me, and that I don't know why and have a billion
speculations on and they all are as meaningless as ten year old
newspapers. Here is what I do promise to begin to give you as my
readers, whoever and few you may be. You will be told HOW TO in
almost a diary-journal text, based on what I did in all of this; and
when it is told, even though it always will be a major compressed
version of its totality because it would take a lifetime to tell it
and you never would get it, but I will blow your mind with shit that
you can practice and do yourself, and when you see how real it is,
maybe, JUST CUNT EATING MAYBE GOOD FOLKS, you will want to join and
organize, and help me fight this monster family curse, as believe me,
the rewards would be off the scale and beyond any of your fucking
imaginations, and THAT is a total PROMISE, or sir Tahren Gandhi,
''I'll TAHREN
TEE IT'', BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
you knew how to do time-advance magnetic percentage equation work,
you could know anything you want to know, before it happens. Your
accuracy would be an astonishing high nineties to just under a full
perfect 100%, endlessly. I knew that if I used the 99 botbar number,
multiplying by 100 for the percentage, so 9900, and divided it by the
number-day in 2013, this very Wednesday and Thursday, the MPB would
go back to 30, and there was no way after being 31X7 following way
more than 30X7, that this would happen, so I knew the number would
need to climb, hence I ALREADY FUCKING KNEW THERE WAS ZERO CHANCE
THAT I COULD BE BOTBAR-FREE THROUGH THURSDAY. Now peeps, with the
right shit, you can apply this same simple math to all sorts of
fucking things in your life. You can already know the next time your
spouse is going to cheat on you. This is no joke, I really do have
better things to do than to sit fucking here at a quarter shy of two
in the fucking morning, blogging about magnetic percentage equation,
and how you can effect the shit all around you via hyper space
effects that you can do in numerous ways that as of yet, I have only
told a small bit about. So just you wait as very fucking soon,
chicken Hichickian-Little-That-Boy, the skies will be doing a lot
more than just fucking falling, my peeps. Take this straight to the
Bank of Toronto, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No moire CIA operatives posing as Iranian Shah's and best friends of
my relative's. No more secret cosmic coded poem messages like
YFAITS-IDTYA, or missed time tables from lovely serious and starry
rock singer goddesses of all Patton fave spots like Sicily. Don't hit
me, MOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Me just da pyeeno pwaya, YO
YO!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
God,
how dumb is this world Sir Elton, Jesus fucking Christ, old pal,
nobody calls you names do they bub? Well they sure call me a bunch
ofem!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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