TAPE NUMBER 25,715

FEBRUARY 19, 2014,

WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 11:15,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 79 DEGREES FNHT.

Folks, as you know, I did not have an extremely wonderful day, yesterday. Sorry I took my frustrations out of my viewers. My shrink tells me this is a necessary therapy, and if someone does not enjoy it, they will merely stop reading me, which seems to be the case, as this blog is on the way to a slow tortured demise and doom, based on accurately predicted statistical mathematical equations performed by me recently, leaving me with basically between 400 and 500 days before only a trickle or maybe nobody at all, ever reads these blogs. Long before this insult happens, I will be long gone, and even pull all mt stuff from the net. Nobody is going to make a mockery out of my true hellish nightmare life, while I stand up on a Jerry Korn Paul Pedersen chair and just let the punches keep coming with my mouth wide open and saying, ''DUH''. Today has started out interesting as opposed to just simply as usual, miserable and awful.

Right before the opening bell on Wall Street, the door was knocked on, and it was my Resident Manager, Debbie. She told me that the lady who was going to assist me developed some major back problems, but that she is working with me, and gave me a list of things she wants me to do such as get a new three dollar shower curtain to replace the nasty one in the shit house, throw out a few cooking pots that are as she calls them, ''rotten'', and just reorganize my refrigerator and throw out some junk that is not all that pleasant looking in there, and to spray some EASY OFF on my oven door and inside, and wipe it down an hour or two later with a rag. I will be able to do this without a problem. She said the tub is good enough, it need not be as squeaky clean as I was believing was the case. Only a powerful person can scrub out the thing to where it is bright white and cleaner than the inside of an empty intestine. I am a very weak person. I thought that I would be thrown out, and had myself in a real state of paranoid psychosis, but she calmed me down and made it all bearable. When she left my apartment at about twenty minutes shy of ten, immediately, the Saint Lucie County Nuclear Facility began its quarterly testing, sirens blaring and booming voices over bullhorns, with that famous repeated speech blaring out for the multiverse to hear, ''This is a test, this is only a test'', followed by a quick succession of weird tones. Except for a small bit of hallway talking between local nabes, all is now quiet. The thing that got me all hot under the collar and ready to declare freaking war, was the persecution, just like that chemtrail that brightened the after dusk sky to daylight, around a year ago, before my daughter's show was about to begin. I am tired of being bullied into them thinking they can make me do stuff, and I won't be. I hate music, I hate the music business, I was ripped off and treated very unfairly by demonic total evil creepy people, and I want nothing whatsoever to do, now or at any future time, with ANY OF THEM. If they want to persecute me for this, then persecute, but you won't make me want any tiny part of you. You are all long dead to me, and if you cannot see why after all your pricks have done to me for 40+ years, then I genuinely feel sorry for you, as your minds all have something wrong with them, and you cannot hate sickness, you pity it, Alex Law & Order Keaton, right lovely outspoken blond girl? When twice, this music attack out my window was later made clear as to why, by watching the very beginning of the ten of the clock news, I just turned off the channel and put on something educational, and stewed in pure anger. When I calmed down, I wrote that vulgar blog, and I am not one bit sorry, as they deserved my anger; Richard Barf 1986 Karpf! Go play some cards and start some new rumors and words on the street about me, you nasty sick crumbs.

Anyway, all is well, and despite a chemtrail filled sky, I will go to my doctor, and onto some other errands, the store, the sheriff's office, and a few other little things along the route that need taking care of. Hay, it is the world's loss if they only enjoy blogs that talk about the stuff around them. What, you're all so ignorant that you need the Gadfly Bloggers of the world to tell you stuff, actually, you're insulting yourselves. My blogs at least are different than the regular boring routine, and they tell a story that just might possibly, if ever taken seriously; alter this world for good, not bad, because as things are on present course, we all know unless total moron retards, that we are spiraling out of control and into something that eventually we will be begging the comets and meteors to come and put us out of our god dam miseries. Think this is a bunch of Guff, Demi more and hubby? Well, you are totally entitled to your opinions, Mashell Daniels, and anyone else, as am I. So enjoy the bland every day blogs folks, and hit them ten thousand plus times a day, leaving a really great blog with very valuable information that could just end up saving your dam children from a fate worse than hell; for all this junk that anyone who watches the news and buys two morning newspapers, and has the seven year old knowledge on how to cut and paste and go to Google, can shoot up mundane blogs that all look and sound basically the same, and have the eternal value of a dying clump of night roadkill. You all just go do what makes your little boats float so nicely along. I will be in South America, laughing at all of you. You never believed I'd leave Jersey and come here to paradise, and yet I did, Patty Jane. Take it from here, Senator Trophy Wife Thompson, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS WAS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,715, IN EQUIVALENT.

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW: