AS
OF 5:09 PM-EST, 8 JANUARY, 2014, STATS ON BLOG:
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I
am going to tell quite a few things on this blog, folks. I won't be
too long on any one point or topic, just opening up doors today. I
have suffered a horrible opening to the year of twenty-fourteen, and
my personal PCN is not at all compatible with the PCN that
twenty-fourteen comes to, when adding up the two digits and seeing if
at least one digit of both these items, my number and this year, are
in the total or the PCNT. There are many things the GAWNUM is able to
do, in fact, it can reveal answers on a scale of virtual omniscience,
but it requires the skill of a seasoned pro to work its magic, and
then the aid of a super computer is needed or else you'd spend a
lifetime, or five, trying to long-hand your way mathematically into
doing all the work, when a program can be written to give you
comparison answers and other stuff, in a second of time, freeing the
user up to just apply their skills of operating the GAWNUM. This can
be used as a game, and used on a first grade level and will perhaps
some day, by grade-schoolers to see if little Johnny is compatible or
not with little Susie, but that is all fine and well, but is not even
a whiff of smoke in the forest fire, as far as just what this tool
can really accomplish, and I personally know this for numerous
reasons, one could even get me killed by haters of the American
system on an equal footing with me, the only difference being, I used
to love it all, until they all turned on me and decided they wanted
to slowly and agonizingly fucking torture me to death. This would
make anybody turn on what they once thought was pretty great and
cool, and I'm no mother fucking exception, folks.
All
I know for sure about anything, is that I was born to suffer in a
very magical boiling pot called the Huntington Curse, and I have been
doing exactly that since the day my mom dropped me on my head on the
streets of Southwest Philadelphia on the way to a baby doctor
appointment, and I was the fucking baby, goo goo goo
goo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Laugh, Mike
McNulty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Are
any of you catching any of the stuff on the television? Are
any of you seeing any of this, or is my subtle attempt to say as
little as I can, a mere waste of my time? I can only wonder,
as this new world of the internet is as dopey as can be. No one does
anything or says anything other than for very rare occasions.
Humanity via the internet has become what was feared by my generation
half a century ago. We've been taken over by
automation, and when any of us really need help, good
luck getting any from a robot or an android,
for at least 100 years.
JANUARY
8, 2014,
WEDNESDAY
EVENING AT 5:32
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 69 DEGREES FNHT.
MORIANITY
PART 7, CHAPTER 0023
I
am going to relax with my dinner and some television. Later on, this
blog will continue to be worked on, and then later posted up, 'the
fawces willing'; and with the help of old
pal McDowell; not the Philly-nurse from 1963.
Between
the shit they did to me in the casinos and the shit they were
stealing, they were robbing me blind and laughing at me and
mocking me, and what did I ever mother fucking do to any of
these mobbed up Sinatra fucking jerk off PIGS
was
my eternal question. This is a question that to this very day
of 8 January, 2014, I REMAIN WITHOUT AN ANSWER, the closest one
ever given to me I got somewhat illegally by bugging my own
mother fucking car in the winter of 1988, and got my realtor to
repeat a story that he had told to me on an earlier occasion,
and you all know what he told me, it has been blogged over and
over and if I hear or see it again, I’ll
fucking ass CROSS OVER ACADEMY ROAD AND ONTO GRANT GODDESS DAM
1984 AVENUE, WITH A MILLION SORE THROATS
and
getting down to ten, or we were but ten, or whatever, great
Washington, DC Copyright
Examiners!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HOLY
MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD, THIS IS SERIOUS AS A DEAD JACKSON, OR A
FAKE BLOG IDEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2014
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I
told about my dealings with the metals market as a young man in his
middle twenties, trading commodities at Clayton Brokerage with broker
Dennis Caldwell, and yes, Clayton, as with my mother's nutty sister
Barbara the opera singer, her husband and my wild kooky-bird Uncle
Clayton, mentioned early into my blogging career sometime in 2006 and
or 2007; I told about the wild ''lab technician'', I told all about
how I tried to 'off my entertainment world enemies', from a bathtub
in a rental home in Atco, New Jersey; and it all ties perfectly
together, that is for those who understand a tad bit about my
personal life, that is totally all real and true, and crazy as all
hell at the same time. Crazy, in that no one else on this planet has
gone through anything like this, and I know it, as you would have to
be a blithering fucking moron, NOT TO KNOW IT, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!! I
told how I found a mountain of tossed electronic equipment, including
tons of wires and connection plugs, and bought mind bending recording
equipment fro a dime on the dollar from a studio where I was working,
and how three huge things all took place in 1983 that most likely led
up to my observing a power drain on my telephone, and the presence of
tapping and interference, not that this was new, since my father was
also the topic of ongoing investigations on federal levels here in
the United States, for things that in all honesty, I have no clue as
to the details about, only that such shit did exist back in the
sixties when I was too young, and he was not around the New Jersey
area, but down south, as I am now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOW,
and this is just scratching a surface as large as the North fucking
Pole, a tenth of an inch on ice that is miles thick, my good peeps
out here, and bad ones as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
told why I was angry as piss and all get out cubed, at the EW in
1983; and they went right on stealing and teasing, and messing with
me; year after year; and I came to learn only well into this
twenty-first fucking century, that there is
a power structure in this NEW WEIRD ODOR, that many call
the NEW WORLD ORDER, same pukey shit to me, as vomit equals vomit;
but I learned that all of the powerful industries are one
super giant demonic evil peta capitalopolous, if I may
invent this term, and even if I may not, there it is; and so I was
fighting one huge EVIL EMPIRE, the casinos, the entertainment peeps
and music world, those covering up the power behind what and why the
paranormal shit is indeed all what exactly it is, and the list goes
on and on, believe me.
I
watched years go by, one after another, and laws get made and changed
that were beyond any possibility of being mere coincidental events,
that were slowly adding to my agony and pain in my exact very
personal situation. Things then went onto escalate in ways that no
blog or book, and no author, could ever possibly even attempt to ever
ever successfully relay and relate to those not inside the very same
fucking experience, not even a dozen Tolstoy's and a dozen of their
marvelous books like ''WAR AND PEACE''. It just is beyond the laws of
fucking physics, or as Judge Judy puts it super well on her great TV
court show, ''It ain't happening''. Whose playpen any of this is is
not even slightly relevant, it just is not happening. Not ever can my
hell be fully told or even partially explained to those not
experiencing even a small portion of it. It is 8:33 on this Wednesday
fucking evening now, and it is 66 Degrees Fahrenheit, in case anyone
anywhere gives a shit about the city of Fort Pierce, Florida,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ever
since an hour or so ago, my dirt bag nabe from next to me is slamming
in and out. I lose the other two jerk offs, and then he is instantly
made cosmically fucking ready to step up to the plate, and take their
mother fucking place, annoying me with SLAM SLAM BOOM BOOM, AND LOTS
OF NOISE INSIDE HIS PLACE AS WELL, WHENEVER THE MOOD STRIKES HIM,
24-7. I LIVE IN THE QUINTESSENTIAL FUCKING SHITHOUSE OF HELL, but any
and all Public housing is like this, for those from my side of the
tracks, it is an experience like being in a fucking concentration
camp during the great war. For those in the family of rats, it is
just another day, the sun comes up and goes down, and what else is
new?
First
off, I will be telling some stuff that is pretty out-there, even for
the 'Mountainpen'. If this is not a time where you're in the mood for
this; it may indeed be the time to click that
''NEXT-BLOG'' button at the top of my blog, and come back here
when you have a stronger constitution and stomach. Call this first
paragraph, your official Caveat Emptor, ladies and gentlemen; as now
you cannot say you were not warned. I was originally planning to do
this not as a blog, but as one of my UNBLOGGABLE-DOCUMENT
pages. I have a few, and it means just exactly what any of you out
there with some operational gray matter upstairs, thinks it means;
and most definitely no less. I also cannot promise to keep my
language totally clean and civil, but I'll try!!!
Folks,
do you really think there is one chance in five trillion fucking
hell-fires that DAWN-MARIE KING was able to get herself released from
that NEW JERSEY REHAB CLINIC in Seacaucus, with that beyond fucking
Einstein perfect caper; that voided out her need to complete a prison
sentence, without help from VERY POWERFUL
SCOTT RANSOM TYPE PEOPLE?
Let
me clue you in on some stuff, my Blogaud. If you know the story,
fine, if not, read the blogs that tell all about it. I think those
who follow me, and few they may be, all know all the shit about me
and my life, and some know more than I do, and most are FAMILY
anyway, and definitely know more about me than I know about myself.
This was planned out and done mto take me and put me into a very
vulnerable position. They knew all about my past, my fear of large
women, my fear of alcoholics, my fear of losing control over a
situation, the major ingredients of my kidnapping under Stockholm
Syndrome that took place as soon as they were able to successfully
carry out the initial phase of this incredible family plan, busting
the big drunk chick out of rehab and keeping her from going to jail.
I had discussed maybe living with Ann and Dawn in a possible down the
road arrangement, but did not think it would happen for a year or
more from the time it actually did, and I never thought that the
second I got under their control, they would turn on me and treat me
so monstrously and horrendously, and I never would have believed that
two facilities that are there for the general welfare of innocent
people and especially those with special needs from special education
backgrounds such as myself with admitted major psychiatric problems,
caused by a lifetime of persecution from some fucking cunt eating
invisible force and enemy, where even saying this truth, makes me a
psychotic delusional crazy person, or said even better, allows me to
be placed into a totally non winnable situation. I speak of the two
hospitals that after telling them I was scared to return to the
family in September of 2008, they both forced me to go back with
them, and this would be the Kessler Memorial Hospital of Hammonton,
New Jersey, along with one day later, the Atlantic City Medical
facility known in more recent times and years of this twenty-first
century, as Atlanticare. Do I believe this was all part of one giant
plan and conspiracy from a source of my WOMO-MILITUFORCE ENEMIES? My
answer back to that is how can anyone ever fucking seriously ask that
question of me? There is only one answer and that is of course I do,
because it is of course, the fucking cunt truth so help me GODDESS
ISIS-JUPITER SSJKK. Jane Whoreslut Witchbitch Diseaseweeds, just
nailed me again, with page eleven of eleven; so I must of course cock
sucking compensate now, with lots of fives. HERE WE GO!!!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY
PART
SEVEN,
AND
PLEASE BELIEVERS
AND L-4
FOLKS,
TRY
AND
HAVE
YOURSELVES
A
VERY
VERY
NICE
DAY,
AS YOU
CONTINUE
TO READ
CHAPTER
NUMBER
0023,
OF THE BLOGS OF THE MOUNTAINPEN, AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY!
****ON
BLOGGER SINCE JANUARY 2006
****************
PROFILE VIEWS---2840
MARK
WAYNE MOHR © 2006-2014
My blogs
About me
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Gender
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Male
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Industry
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Occupation
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Location
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Hammonton,
New Jersey, United States
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Introduction
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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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Interests
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Favorite
Movies
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Favorite
Music
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Favorite
Books
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You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. Also,
a little philosophy for you is as follows:
At
the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure
of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.
SHARKEY
SAYS, THAT HE WILL ALWAYS BE,
SORRY
ABOUT POUNDING SO HARD ON YOUR FLOOR, RICHARD BARF KARPF, BUT IT MADE
A GREAT DRUM SOUND, AND I WANTED TO USE IT ON ALL REAL GOOD GIRLS,
AND SONGS, AND SO, I DID!!!
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?
Now
if you wish to view my true likeness, you need to cut and paste from
blogger dot com where I appear, onto your own office or word document
system, and then click onto my photo below, and then when a small
colored symbol prompt pops up, these will be the 6 adjustments you
need to make, in order to restore my true likeness. From top to
bottom, 1-6, adjust as follows, then click off and the photo will
change: 1---(+11%), 2---(+3%),
3---(-10%), 4---(-18%), 5---(12%), 6---(1.20). Follow
these (+), (-), and number settings. If you make the photo wider, I
will appear to be fatter, and if you make the photo longer and more
rectangular, I will appear to be thinner, than my true appearance. It
is set for exactly the way it should have come out originally, but
because as usual, I did not get my money's worth; it did not. This is
why we all look much fatter on the television. For reasons that elude
me, they do not properly compensate the video reproduction of their
transmissions. Of course, how many of you are as tired as me of the
cable and maybe all network broadcasting, where the video and the
audio for ten or more years are about 2 seconds out of proper
synchronization. I sometimes force myself not to look at the mouths
of those speaking, but try it, you will see, I don't imagine stuff,
nor make stuff up. I really don't have the time.
http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
***888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888******
Eventually,
I will find a way to get these images properly into my documents of
my computer, so that it is not just a cut and paste job. Then maybe I
can send the photo-bucket peeps, a new photo of this, that will post
up instead of this horrible non-likeness. So to see me properly;
adjust to those settings, thank you. The wide to long angle is
perfect so if you change it, please, unless you want me to look extra
fat or extra thin, as did the copy place who took my money, back
about a year after I started blogging, and Ed Lynch and a lady who
also was a patron at the Public Library of Hammonton, New Jersey,
helped get my CD-PHOTO transferred onto the photo-bucket, and then
onto my blogger dot com web-page.
FOLKS,
I WILL TELL YOU A LOT MORE ABOUT THE EDUCATOR
FACTION OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND,
AND JUST WHAT THEY HAVE BEEN DOING WITH THINGS LIKE GODS, ALIENS,
SAUCERS, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, AND ALL OF US; FROM PYRAMIDS TO ANY
MIRACLE OR UNEXPLAINED THING THAT ANY OUT HERE CAN POSSIBLY EVER
THINK OF TO ASK ME, but first; I will say what needs to be said for
the blogs of this time. Then we will move back into this powerful
topic. I will not forget!
I
am bruising and cruising, and riding the tide of misery, Mister
Plato; my old friend from so dam long ago. How lucky these normal
folks are, not to remember so much, or said better perhaps, being
able to come into this videogame with top end programming. Even
jacking into this super cool virtual reality, relative to some
greater so-called more real-reality beyond our lives here; the best
programs allow one to jack in and enter this side of the screen,
wormhole, or whatever it 'really' is; with a completely erased prior
memory of anything. It heightens the excitement of this videogame
tremendously; and my cheaper program may have worked for most of my
youth, but early into my jacked-in adult-hood, it began to break down
on me, and hence; I began to remember the other side of the screen,
more and more and more and more and more. GET IT yet anybody?,
integrated southern schools of the Latecomers Club all
notwithstanding. W-O-W!
WHEN
THE CAT IS AWAY, THE WOMO-MILITUFAWCES PLAY!
Well
great peeps, let's get down to CASES
now, as promised.
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What
I now will tell all of you, may get me most likely sent off to Buzz
Island, or perhaps even killed by TAWF. But as I said on that song
opening intro quite some time ago, ''HERE WE
GO''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some
of you know about Haddon Township High School and the Guidance
Counselor, the goddess only knows how he spelled that wild Italian
name of his, Mister Jaqamini, if spelled as pronounced; and how he
recommended my attending the special-education school, a mile and a
half or so away, in Haddonfield, New Jersey; whose teachers that were
my five main ones, while there until the end of January in 1973, when
I reached the age of eighteen years and two months; were, and in
order first to final; Mrs. Marola in February of 1969 through late
June of that year, and then in chronological order, Mister Richard
Marcucci, Mister David Leigh Smith, Misses Mildred B. Young, and
Mister Daniel Mackey. If I were to take just these five nice folks
and put them into a magical ball of a sort, as if turning them into
one entity; this entity would make the Wizard Merlin, and about 90%
of the ancient wisdom's of the Chinese Culture of antiquity; appear
somewhat tame in a comparison. I promise you that, WOMO and
MO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, let us just
open here with Mrs. Marola and Mister Marcucci, those who were my
legal educators between 9-3 five days weekly for the basic 180 school
day calendar years in 1969-1971; only things are never as simple,
with me; as 1-2-3, huh Diana my endless love????????????????
Now
before we go back to this topic, and just to drive Terry Egghead of
Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, as nutty as all dam get out, squared; I
will sidetrack off this point and onto a tangent. Things connect up,
but only I know how and why, and only I need to, at least for right
now, without renaming Dawn King, all over again, on or off of any
Easter Sunday's of abduction cases, and or any alien invasions; or
any other wonderful fantasies, enjoyed by all the Ufologist peeps,
and those on similar treks and
pathways!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What I will now tell
you has to do with yesterday, or when I started this blog, it would
have been today, but today turned into tomorrow while I was doing it,
because time passes, or as gorgeous Paula Patton might put it, ''
Time's a wasting''. Well lovely Paula, we'll get it all back, so
don't worry too much about it, and just ask the great Gary Stone,
should you not wish to take my word for it. I am quite sure that the
mighty land owner, BIG-O will confirm sending my mom that lovely post
card in 1988 to our Moorestown address. How I just love that
wonderful adorable terrific entertainment industry, and the media in
general; all the same thing; spewing their lies about viral
videos
and so many other things. There
is no such thing as a viral video.
All posts go to a start-page. There is no way anyone anywhere except
for those who post it up, even know it is going up there. There are
folks inside journalism, scanning this start-page, for those videos
they choose and decide to promote. These will 'go viral' now. They're
not going anything, they're being, and this is not a pun, MC, I
promise, ''PUSHED''! If you have 1000 friends and they are all young,
and all are popular people, and have many friends; and you tell them
about a post you put up, and send their cellphones the link; now
maybe you will get between 3-30 thousand hits. Who knows? Then if the
media catches it, and likes it, for whatever reason, really likes it;
they
PUSH IT,
they promote it; so it goes viral. Why wouldn't it? They broadcast it
over their national television networks for one thing, and many other
things, and from there, sure; then it takes off. You can choose to
'pay-promote', by Googling sites that will pop up from typing on a
Google search, two words, ''Youtube Views''. You can then pay
networking sites to ''deliver'' to your account, on any video you
paste the link to them on, anything from bulk amounts of comments,
views, likes; or all of the above. If you have a hundred grand to
promote yourself; you can become an internet star, in your fantasies.
Unless the media gets behind you and likes both your stuff, and you
personally, FORGET IT. You can pay to have a million views, and you
will still be a silent internet celeb, and that is all. I have had
promoters in the nineties, paid to have my music played all over the
world. But
if you are NOT LIKED BY THE OWNERS OF THIS WORLD,
you will go nowhere, not ever, not really. YOU WILL BE WASTING
YOUR EFFORT AND TIME,
AND I TRIED TO MAKE PAUL PEDERSDEN, MY PARTNER IN THAT STUPID 'SPR'
RECORD LABEL, WE STARTED IN 1998,
BELIEVE THIS; AND HE SCOFFED, AND LAUGHED, AT ALL THE STUFF I TOLD
HIM. I was in this bizz folks when my daughter was in elementary
school. I know a lot of stuff, and all of the major secrets. Don't
treat me like a crack pot, emmereffers; you might live to be real
sorry for that mistake. You too, you scumbag lying trash down to my
south; pricks. Karmic wheels, jerk offs; your cuzz did you, you did
me; but time runs both ways. Your cuzz did you, after you did me
wrong; in antimatter black-space universes. Never forget that I know
about two things a lot more than most out here breathing. Music and
physics, these are my subjects. Whether you all want to believe me,
or you may laugh at me; and all that will alter reality, by about
zero percent, BRO. That
is GOSPEL!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
we could talk for days and nights straight here, and not cover how
music has been such a major problem and headache, in my personal
life, ever since about 1975; with a real duosh bag named Lou Sause;
and it only got worse and worse and worse and worse, and I know why;
and it is beyond what 100 super brains out here can fathom, so I
won't even begin to bust open a can of worms like this, or kick a
giant hornets nest by the name of CALLIO, to quote Mister
Truce-20-Grand Dave Roth. All I am going to say, is that I know
certain things for a fact, unlike others, not from books or schools
or even other people; but from life experiences, that other folks
never seem to travel the roads even close to those that I have driven
on for a very long freaking time, BRAH. My two first teachers did two
powerful things, all previously discussed, and this government knows
the details, as if nobody else does, I know they read my blogs. A
child can know that small amount of crap, without straining any gray
matter. Now take today for an example. They screwed with the
intermittent problem I have had for a year or more now with my air
conditioning unit, and they gave me major morning stomach cramping to
pump up the Dow Jones when things looked technically real bad on
their charts, and would have gone much farther south and downward if
not for these persecutions of me, as always. A moron who is going
through my life situation and surviving it (A CANONIZING MIRACLE GONE
UNKNOWN), could not help but begin to see unmistakable life patterns
that simply put, Detective Ed Green Maria, ''You can't even argue it,
it's science''. Stuff that is happening each minute, each day, each
year, it all makes perfect sense and fits a pattern precisely, more
so than any Swiss watch that ever ticked on this messed up little
planet, folks. But it is not always mortally simple to see through
things, until a lot of water runs underneath the bridges around us.
Much later, if we want to see these truths, they begin to reveal
themselves to us all, more and more; with new current events, that
take place all around us. This is so major, what I am saying; if the
powers of this world, really thought that any real caring sufficient
number of viewing audience, was reading, AND ''GETTING'' these words
of wisdom and truth; I WOULD BE ON
BUZZ ISLAND BY SUNRISE,
and THAT is a total promise, great Star-Trek ROCKDROID, of the
Shitsapookna universes, BRRRRRR! A dozen little simple truths that I
know, and none of you do, and I mean none of you, except those
tapping my phone and bugging my entire life for 60 years. What I know
is more deadly and emmereffing dangerous if just a few persons with
real clout ever joined me as a team effort to fight this
EXPLORATRONIC MESS, all the previous wars and battles ever fought on
this world of woe all combined, would compare to a couple of Tom Cats
fighting over a heated-female in the local bushes. I know I sound
like a horn tooter, but I'll tell you this much folks. The entire
freaking White House knows that there is something to my words, and
if they did not; they would not be a part or a party to all of this
unfathomable criminal behavior against me, for most of my life, if
not really, since the dam day that my mom dropped me on the streets
of Philly, on my head; while carrying me across the street, and over
to a local doctor's office, for a routine check up. I dared to say
something about the medical world; and then when it was time to see
my doctor; all
hell broke loose.
Then I said something here and there, and unless my followers are as
dense as a jungle in the Amazon, you all see how stuff keeps right on
happening, and if you really can give me the credit to be able to
pull all of this wild story off ahead of time; or make it all up in
the first place; WOW; that
is a compliment
that I need to learn to accept; because you are basically, whether
you like it or not, if you're saying or thinking this about me or to
me; then you are telling me that I am better, and more talented than
all of the professional fiction writers in Hollywood, all combined
emmereffing together, and SQUARED, BRO! If indeed this is what any of
you keep insisting upon, well, Morianity is failing, yes; but still,
THANK YOU! This is one hell of a compliment, Mister Star Trek Copycat
Data, YO!
Now
forget that anti-pollution commercial in the late sixties, forget
about Misses Marola and the insistence on her part in May of 1969 for
me to do that school play on Memorial Day, and forget that hallway
talk with myself and Count Von Marcucci Shavecutter Thaxton Mindblow;
about how I could be a father, ''chronologically''. Forget all that.
As if we can, but just do it for now. Let's keep all that crap in
reserve as a paperweight that adds the necessary ballast to the
submarine later after I continue onward with some really wild newer
and never told stuff. Forget Ciprionni and the Zane hypnosis, all the
time trips, all the robberies, all of it. Forget the Callio branch
of these unfathomable star people, AKA the mighty KENNEDY'S, and all
their in-law branches that no one knows jack about except for 'Hair'
and myself, and relax Donna up in the future, not you!!!!!!!!!!!
Morianity has indeed preached for nearly eight freaking years now
good folks, all the wild stuff about the seventh dimension and all
that happens as things move below it, into what and where all of us,
and our so-called lives presently are; as this cannot ever be
rationally told to humans; and I realize all this now, years too
late, as Scylla might say. But you know what? Gab could kick in here
again, speaking of all devils; as she puts it only I promised not to
do a lot of cursing here, 'EF' it, because it is time to show you a
few things, and not just talk. Now when I showed you all how to work
parallel event on roulette, or how to work the 'Fascitar-6-10'
system, well; if you never experimented yourself, and had no time or
interest; then that is your
loss;
as I did not just print words. I gave real instructions that could
take you to the stars and beyond, or in the case of down to Earth
capitalism, and Trumpitis; could have made my readers a hell of 'a
lot of' Bobby Brown 'Lost Love' song ripped off 'cash', from 1989,
and no Jane and bobby; I don't ever forget; and I don't ever FORGIVE
Not stuff that big, and THAT EVIL; so sorry, Mister freaking
Ambassador, YO, BRO. WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
are a lot of roads to take you all down, the roads that Nick took me
down, the kidnapping, the wild dreams of oh-M-8, the incredible skin
lotion caper that dwarfs E=MC-SQ, and on I could go. But if I do,
ISIS might just kick the shit out of me, and I know she can do it,
folks.
We
will save a lot of these road trips for the next half dozen blogs, I
never forget anything, no matter what these jerk off enemies ever do
to me and they know that they will have to kill me, Mizz
Bondi, Florida State Attorney General,
in order to shut me up. I will go on telling and telling, and McNulty
and the crew can go on laughing and laughing, all the way to the
bottom of the sea with Captain
Crane and Dutch Doctors with silver ice skates and other powerful
Sarah Krassle connections,
that endlessly revolve around the Mountainpen, throughout time and
eternity. For right now Cali-Kali, call-ten, Callio, I say unto all
of you, nighty-nite, and BYE-BYE!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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