dededededededededededededed
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
ppppppppppppppppppppppppppp
CHECK
THIS OUT. MORIANITY IS ABOUT TO END, BUT BEOFRE IT DOES, SRI ECKANKAR
LEM, I HAVE MY OWN STRANGER BY A RIVER, MISTER KLEMP AND MISTER
TWITCHEL, AND WHEN HE FEELS LIKE BEING WHO HE IS MOST OF THE TIME,
YOU ALL KNOW HIM AS MY THIRD COUSIN FOUR TIMES REMOVED, DONALD J.
TRUMP. I HAVE NICKNAMED HIM LATE IN 2008, MISTER SCOWLER. FUCK THE
ENGLISH LANGUAGE, TOO MANY WORDS SHOULD EXIST THAT DO NOT, HE IS A
SCOWLER, AND THIS IS MY NICKNAME FOR HIM, LIKE IT OR NOT, MICROSOFT
SPELLCHECKER SYSTEM.
Goddess
bless the child, huh DIANA. Well, Goddess bless the travelers of the
love is for carpenters crew as well. Maybe my distant cuzz would make
the greatest president in history after all. It seems he was half
right all along, and Doctor Rogers and her Milk of propofol Amnesia
is still alive and well inside my damaged brain, from that knock on
my door by the big man in the fucking circus suit, that I first
encountered in 'dreams', and then in 'real life'. I am blocking the
Microfuckingsucks light-bulb hack that won't stop popping on and
annoying me with totally fucking worthless garbage. Just pop up and
stay on all night long now, for all I give a cunt eating fucking
shit. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Now,
I was watching my pal the Survivor-man on television's Science
Channel earlier last night, and fell asleep for only 5 minutes, and
in that time, you will get a mind blow, what happened to me, Klemp
and Twitchell, YO dudes! I was not suddenly in a small shack like
the one that the survivor-man was in, on the TV show, but was always
there, and with me, was an entirely different person, not the
survivor-man. He identified himself to me with about a dozen long
names, and I laughed when he finished, and he got angry and stood up,
as we had both been seated until then, and he shouted extremely
loudly, how would you like it if I made fun of your name, Mark
Martin. Instantly I knew I was in that parallel universe of the
Misses Marola Egg Harbor City school roll call, of early 2009, or
whenever this took place, while I still was living back in turd
chewing New Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I told
the dude I was sorry for laughing at his name, and he quietly calmly
then sat back down. His eyes closed for about ten seconds as though
in a short prayer or something, and then he opened them and asked my
what my number was, and I blurted out 871, hoping he wanted to know
what my PCN was. I was correct, this is indeed what he was asking me.
Again he stood up and paced the small hut back and forth a few times.
Then he began telling me how he ran into Marilyn Hughes the other day
and she was asking for me, and before I had time to think about
hyperspace, I blurted out, ''My friend, I do not know this lady, only
of her as a recognized and published author''. He laughed at me and
asked what medications the doctors had recently prescribed at the
clinic, and I again told him, what doctors, what clinic? I do not go
to any clinic, and I also remember adding the word, buttwipe to him
at the end of that sentence. He was not a man who liked to be dissed.
He grabbed me by my throat and had me up above my feet against the
wall nearest to the chair where I'd been seated. It all happened in a
wild flash. Then he spat on me, elbowed me in the thigh, and let me
fall on my ass, screaming in agony, and wiping his filthy puke off of
my mouth. While I lay on the floor and after my shouting had stopped,
he told me to listen to what he is going to say and not to utter one
single word, an exact quote, from this man of quick anger, and lots
of physical power.
He
went into a long slow one way discussion with me about the Lambrigg
Cult of the Astral Plane, and my distant cousin who is in charge of
it in his truer essence and form, and how it is time for me to know
that I was not correctly told what he knows happened with my
daughter, decades ago. He said to me that I did not go back and bring
her to the near present times and to the Trump Plaza, but rather, a
short while back, under a hypnotic trance with a post command
suggestion that is still effecting me to this very day and is used
from time time; I went back into the eighties, and actually did some
things intentionally, to bring a connection between us, because of a
necessary establishment that things happened that would otherwise
remain forever unproven. When he finished yacking, I asked if he
could tell me if there is any way for me to have this post hypnotic
suggestion removed, and he said he would not be allowed to tell me
that information or his chela's would be murdered in their sleep by
the Lam-Man himself, another exact quote. I just gave him quite a
stare, I am sure, and eventually went onto ask him what I did and how
it effected things. He began laughing raucously at me and told me I
need to discuss this with my two old pals, Marc Marini, Salvador
Ventura, and Steve Moroni. Then he took his fingers just like
Salvador used to do back in late 1965 and into 1966, tapping them
very quickly back and forth on the wooden wall of the hut we were in.
Then he laughed again, even more loudly and annoyingly than the first
uncouth display of raucous laughter fits. When he finished laughing,
I asked him if he was through mocking me and harassing me, and he
again jumped up, and got right up into my face, and screamed at me;
''You little fucking asshole, I am doing my best to give you powerful
clues about what you did, that caused all your horrendous agony; so
don't be giving me grief and attitude, or I'll shove your ugly
fucking ass right through this wall''. Then he walked out of the hut
and a minute or less later, in walked a lovely tall thin woman about
30 years old who said her name was Jean Beckett, and was the common
law wife of the man I had been speaking to. I just kept things real
casual, and eventually she started telling me that her man hasn't
been himself lately and has a short fuse due to a bad automobile
accident and some mild brain damage that ensued as a result. The man
had not returned and so I asked where he had gone and she said she
does not know but that she wishes to make sure I knew exactly what he
was trying to tell me, as she could not help overhearing the
conversation between us when it heated up, as she was just outside
hanging up some towels to be dried. I responded with I am not totally
sure, but I followed a lot of it, and could she tell me whatever it
is that I am suppose to know. She sat down in the same chair that her
common law hubbie had been sitting in, and calmly took a few breaths,
and then said, Mister Martin, I know you are Mark Mohr inside this
body, and that you are a hyperspace traveler. Are you aware of the
situation you are in right now? I jumped up and said that I was, but
how could she know this? She then told me that as the years passed
and I had left Atco, New Jersey, to move to Voorhees, then
Cinnaminson, then Williamstown, and went onto play roulette in
Atlantic City and make consistent money at the tables for eight
months; this is when your cousin began to know it would be just a
matter of time before you learned and remembered too much about him
as well as other things. I no sooner responded to her with the
question of how did I get stuff from present times back to Atco, and
she touched me on my shoulder and said some magical sounding weird
chant a few times, and boom, it all came back to me. I really was in
Atco, New Jersey, and I was in the basement den area one early
evening, and a copy of myself appeared at the corner of the room that
would be the southwest corner, and I was told, and I quote, ''I am
you from the future, and I have things that you need to dub onto your
reel to reel recorder right now, and then you will forget I ever
arrived here, and by the fucking gods, I did forget, all these
fucking years.
Somehow
a vicious cycle is causing one thing to work into another thing and
then that other thing to work back into the original thing, and this
has been repeating and looping around for millions of years, until
the gods are willing to stop the game, and they have named this game,
and I was told this by this lady, just as I was waking up out of this
wild dreaming experience, it is called ''Blogging The Gates Of Hell''
game. As I opened my eyes and saw the survivor-man still on
television on the Science Channel, I tried desperately hard to
remember whether or not I knew this all along, and by the gods, I
knew all of this all along, and indeed had been the victim of some
post hypnotic block out. For the life of me, I cannot remember who
the hypnotist is, and it is not Doctor Mark Wolf from Moorestown, and
it is not anyone I can pull up who I would know in ordinary reality.
If a small Cooley Hall pun would be permitted here, Babylonian Uncle
Heinz Gottwald, sir; no, I changed my mind, if I go on here, this
could potentially take me over to that other side of the line in the
Ralph and Sandy, and other paranormal machines. Yes that was long
ago, and I was walking by the sea, and Sarah's broom did come up to
me. The broom may not have been visible, but then, neither are the
germs that can kill us all; or the atoms in nuclear explosions, that
obliterate entire cities.
Several
splits with ordinary reality have resulted in a lot of screwy
hyperspace equations, and led to my choking condition, I now totally
realize this. I was not choking yet when I went out to my eye doctor
appointment in the spring of 1983, and came back, and the fibbies had
put a tap on the phone line, as the Radio Shack systems no longer
operated the same after that, and while I was out, the entire tape
ran blank and out that should have stayed where it was unless the
phone had a power drain and the voltage was reduced which started the
machine to run all by itself, where I could hear real live fibbie
agents talking to each other, and calling my car, a ''blue nungen'',
some weird code word that I'll most likely never know what it all is
about to the day they put me in the fucking ground.
|
MORIANITY
PART 9, WHY THE GATES OF HELL-D
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FEBRUARY
8, 2014,
SATURDAY
MORNING AT 4:30,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 64 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”
EVERY
STINKING DAY IS A NEW ALL TIME
Well,
for two straight days, my viewing audience is cut again in half.
First, I lost half shortly after the time I double-techno-popped my
''YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER'' song
on August the twenty-fucking-eighth, and now again. A child can see
that my wonderful family, and that of my wonderful awesome daughter,
WAS MOST OF THIS audience all along. Since I have recently pissed
them off, they no longer come up here.
Florida
Attorney
General
Pam
Bondi
Provide
your email address below to receive the Attorney General's Weekly
Briefing featuring the latest news and updates on top issues.
I
know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank
you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in
New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands
are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean. PLEASE
HELP ME, PLEASE!!!!!!!
NOT
ONE FUCKING CUNT EATING SOUL CARES ABOUT ME OR MY HELL, THEY WATCH
AND ENJOY IT AS THEY WOULD A FUCKING SYFY SHOW, SAYING TO EACH OTHER,
''MORE POPCORN YO'', and Happy New Year! 'YRS',ha-ha. When I
am finally dead and buried and gone, YOU WILL NOT ONLY NEVER FIND A
REPLACEMENT FOR ME WHO IS ANYTHING LIKE ME AND WHO COULD HOLD UP SO
LONG AND WELL AGAINST TOTAL SCUMBAG GARBAGE CHEWERS LIKE YOU ALL, BUT
YOU WILL LOOK BACK AND WONDER WHY YOU FINISHED ME OFF SO SOON, AS
NOW; I AM NOT HERE ANYMORE FOR YOU TO MOTHER FUCKING KICK THE SHIT
AROUND. NO MORE ME AND NO WAY TO REPLACE ME; NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
W-----O-----W,
S-DAY
NIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!
HELP
ME PEE,
YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE MARCH 29, 2013, and now it is February
8, 2014; Jeese Louise!
Contact
Us | Request
Copies | Get
a Search Estimate |
Frequently
Asked Questions (FAQs) about
Copyright | Copyright
Office Home Page | Library
of Congress Home Page
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
LAUGH ALL NIGHT LONG MICHAEL MCNULTY, YO.
SPEEDSHIP
SUNRAMS, 3 CUBED, AND SO MUCH MORE, RIGHT EPITOME OF HARASSMENT
ORIGINAL, OH LOVELY COPYRIGHT EXAMINER?
OH
WOW, MISTER MACY, IS THIS REAL, OR IS SOMEBODY JUST KISSING MY ASS
OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW ON FUCKING CHRISTMAS EVE, ALL OVER AGAIN, YO YO
YO YO YO YO????????
Well
folks, here is what 'haaaaa-pened', Mister
1983 Derrijo Exxon,
and all others following Morianity, the book of quintessential
woes!!!!!!!!!!!
My
last blog told how suddenly my telephone acted up just past half past
one this morning. This
has to do with the real and true absolute MOGOSP system. There is no
powerful MOGO software program as of yet, but there might as well be,
when the ESS understands, and applies the powers of their TYPE-THREE
EXPLORATRONIC ABILITIES,
the mighty Paula Belinda King and her powerful daughter, and mine
also, with the world unable and not permitted to officially ever know
what happened underneath the great Schiff's Central Pier of Atlantic
City on the first Saturday in July back in 1969, and why this was the
summer of love and why the great hit tune of Under the Boardwalk
followed right afterward, as well as the anti-pollution TV ad spot
that ran coast to coast, with the hot nineties, and the pigs on the
beach, a really cool advertisement, even though all
three networks illegally transmitted my voice as a young teenager
without the permission of my mother.
My dad was down here where I am right now, on the great treasure
coast, diving with the world famous treasure salver, Mister Melvin
Fisher!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Long
story made powerfully compressed and abridged ('shortened', for non
college dudes and duddesses); I went to bed in one universe and woke
up in another, a place where the AT&T company totally did an
Edward Lynch Sex Offender Blucran Alteration hyperspace equation on
me, and there is never any way to prove a hyperspace equation is
intentionally done by the all powerful ESS, or the Exploratronic
Supermind Society, that only the top 5% of the Bohemians are even
permitted to be privy to any of these details. Only I know, and
Professor Kaku knows a lot of it too, and any time he wants the
entire story told to him, I am available, but he has a family, and I
remember how it all goes, lovely Helen Harris Jones and daughter
lovely Amanda, with or without the magical weird 100 year connection
in the world of so-called ''fiction''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fiction my cunt huffing asshole, ladies and freaking gents!!!!!!!!!
Would you please cut me a fucking break, wonderful 1985 Margie Leo,
TANKS YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
would never be permitted to tell it all, but I always knew as far
back as middle 1983, that the great AT&T was in on this time
travel game, and is of course the major player along with 29 others,
right lovely younger HS daughter, PEE from Egg Harbor City and this
has nothing to do with musicals, or schools, right Mister War hero,
yeah, war fucking hero my cock sucking fucking ass!!!
Oh
boy is this about to fucking get real good, so don't go away yet,
peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am in a universe where th entire
telephone company is operating differently. They want me to believe
some quick update and change happened overnight, but I was not
falling off turnip fucking trucks three weeks ago and born last
night. I wasn't even born at night, but if I was, it most certainly
was not last mother fucking ass night, folks. The entire system was
changed while UI slept, and enjoyed
cupcakes from Leticia Tilley and her Incollingo's Grocery Store
of the Harbor, all night long, when my kid wasn't throwing her pizza
all over me, right professor negative-fields??????????? Symbolism,
wow, cut me another break, lovely Margie, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jeese Louise, surfer Fonty, my old pal.
All
day long, the phone would not work, it is changed, or have I been
changed? Or am I back living in fucking Chatsworth with my kid
throwing ten pizza's all over my nice bright white freaking shirt and
bloody red shoes, Leticia???????????? I will tell so much more as the
following mother fucking days keep rolling along and time keeps
slipping with the Eagle Birds!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lurch
Rockdroid said it all on the original fucking STAR TREK show, with
the episode where Roddenberry's wife, who played Nurse Chappel, was
in love with a man who merged his consciousness into an android body,
Professor Kaku, yeah, we knew all along this was all coming, you and
me, we rock old buddy, screw Tony Bonjovi and the DISBELIEVRS of Port
Saint Lucie, Flowers and A&R
Callio's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
reason my Lightning
Goddess Diana
has not been the same with me for a long time,
is because I no longer am using
the real telephone lines
when I trance out at night, nor do I have my lightning ball, as I did
not dare try and sneak that out of the house of fucking horrors on
that fateful evil night of the eleventh of December back in 2009,
owned by FBI
AGENT, Steve Caruso, from Austin, Texas,
USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All this time, lightning has been different. She is not able to
understand why I am not in the same communication with her since this
nightmare all began with my rotten daughter's family from
hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All
I a free to blog and tell, on my word of honor to somebody, is that I
had the AT&T techs over to my apartment earlier, and learned some
things that blew my mind, but the real fucking mind blow was what I
managed to put together after this day from hell, and after this
BOTBAR X 4 total fucking nightmare, from hell cubed, Cuban Lottery
Dad and Dawn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[SO
KEEP RIGHT ON GOING, FOLKS']
|READ
ON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN|
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I
A
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O
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Y
H
A
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4
U
F
I
S
H
E
R
M
A
N
KEYBOARDS
FROM PETAHELL-1980 (R)
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///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2014
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
55555555555
There
are many unexplainable truths happening all around the universe, and
our world, and yes; us individually. This is simply because, we all
are like a little package, with a super program, and a super
computer; Professor Kaku, that automatically turns on an entire
're-al-o-gram', and then all else exists because of each of us, in
fact making this so. Well, this seems an OK idea and concept until
the next very obvious query comes popping into most healthy minds,
from here. Fine, so how does it all then interact together? Well as
the lovely Jamaican girl, on my daughter's great OH-M-9 movie would
say so perfectly, ''Let's explore that'' somewhat farther,
Professor!!!!!!!!!!!! OH
YES, LADIES AND GENTS OUT HERE, I'LL LEARN TO KEEPO MY MOTHER FUCKING
GODDESS DAM ASS MOUTH SHUT IF I KNOW WHAT THE SHIT IS GOOD FOR ME, YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Miss
Blake, have you figured out if somebody is trying to drive me crazy,
or NAUT, yet, after-all, May 1983 through February 2014 is quite a
while that you have all had to ponder this mighty monster ass pile of
fucking filthy philosophy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
RIGHT????????
Hyperspace
Effects and or Equation,
can be caused by many things. I have blogged many things, many true
stories, and so on. You just believe whatever turns you on, folks,
but if somebody started to walk on the water and claim to be back
from 2000 years ago, what would you believe? Many folks do not know
that it took centuries after Jesus Christ lived, suffered, and died,
before the Christian cult turned into the big ass religion it is
today. These are facts folks, I do not want you to take my word for
shit, nor can I promise you just how much unbiased accurate
information is available on Google either. They totally have my
family all scrambled and lied about. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Mister
McNulty, sir, and AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!
OH
SHIT
2014
DATE--------TOTAL
BOTBARS-----TOTAL
DAYS---MPB
JANUARY
01----------00------------------------------01-------------00
JANUARY
02----------01------------------------------02-------------50
JANUARY
03----------02------------------------------03-------------67
JANUARY
04----------03------------------------------04-------------75
JANUARY
05----------03------------------------------05-------------60
JANUARY
06----------04------------------------------06-------------67
JANUARY
07----------05------------------------------07-------------71
JANUARY
08----------05------------------------------08-------------63
JANUARY
09----------06------------------------------09-------------67
JANUARY
10----------07------------------------------10-------------70
JANUARY
11----------08------------------------------11-------------73
JANUARY
12----------08------------------------------12-------------67
JANUARY
13----------08------------------------------13-------------62
JANUARY
14----------08------------------------------14-------------57
JANUARY
15----------09------------------------------15-------------60
JANUARY
16----------09------------------------------16-------------56
JANUARY
17----------09------------------------------17-------------53
JANUARY
18----------09------------------------------18-------------50
JANUARY
19----------09------------------------------19-------------47
JANUARY
20----------09------------------------------20-------------45
JANUARY
21----------10------------------------------21-------------48
JANUARY
22----------11------------------------------22-------------50
JANUARY
23----------12------------------------------23-------------52
JANUARY
24----------12------------------------------24-------------50
JANUARY
25----------13------------------------------25-------------52
JANUARY
26----------14------------------------------26-------------54
JANUARY
27----------14------------------------------27-------------52
JANUARY
28----------15------------------------------28-------------54
JANUARY
29----------15------------------------------29-------------52
JANUARY
30----------15------------------------------30-------------50
JANUARY
31----------16------------------------------31-------------52
FEBRUARY
01--------00------------------------------01-------------00
FEBRUARY
02--------01------------------------------02-------------50
FEBRUARY
03--------02------------------------------03-------------67
FEBRUARY
04--------03------------------------------04-------------75
FEBRUARY
05--------04------------------------------05-------------80
FEBRUARY
06--------05------------------------------06-------------83
FEBRUARY
07--------06------------------------------07-------------86
DOES
IT GET ANY WORSE FOLKS???
Things
don't get worse than fucking sub-vampiric death, folks, they really
fucking cunt do not!!!!!!!!! LIFE IS NOT FUCKING SUSTAINABLE AT A
MOTHER FUCKING 80 PERCENT MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE BOTBAR. THIS IS FIRST
FUCKIGN DEGREE, PRE-MEDITATED MURDER, ATTORNEY GENERAL OF FLORIDA,
MIZZ PAM BONDI!!!!!!!!!!!!
Florida
Attorney
General
Pam
Bondi
Provide
your email address below to receive the Attorney General's Weekly
Briefing featuring the latest news and updates on top issues.
OPERATING
A MOGOSP IN THE PHYSICAL WORLD, or pulling off water walking miracles
with parlor tricks from the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND; FOLKS, EITHER
FUCKING CUNT LAPPING WAY, IT IS ALL THE VERY SAME SLOPPY MESSY PIZZA
PIE, IN OR OUT OF BILLY HARNER'S BACK-YARD OR IN 1984, OR REALLY,
FREAKING BOTH, AND GET THAT DAM BLOOD OFF MY SHOES,
BILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Put
in equation form, oh wonderful pal of my dad's, from Princeton,
MPC=CN-HSE or spoken, (MOTIVE PROGRAM CONCEPT, EQUALS CONTROLLED
HYPERSPACE EQUATION, so laugh all you want to Michael McNulty,
because this used to be a free country, and maybe, just fucking maybe
sir, it still is free enough for you to sit there all day long
laughing the fuck at me, YO, so go the shit for it,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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