Oh
by gosh by golly, forget holly and kissing bushes; this is so dead
ass serious, there are no words; Auntie Dearest!
MARCH
9, 2014,
SUNDAY
MORNING AT 3:08,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 58 DEGREES FNHT.
Journal
cassette tape number 25,734 equivalent
I
had a nice eight hours of 'sleep' or close to it, something very rare
for me now in my old bunt tapping age, folks. I was a regular normal
TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, as we all are unless practicing an unusual set of
mental exercises, which are to go to sleep and set the alarm for
about two thirds to three quarters of the time that you normally
sleep, say if you are a six hour sleeper, setting it for four hours.
You get us just long enough to perhaps grab a half glass of water and
take a leak. But before you even fall back into bed, you mentally
'day-dream' on a place that you wish you were, this could be anything
from on some vacation to just being at the residence of anyone in
this world you would want to be for any possible reason. It could be
your teacher, your preacher, your grand parents place in the country,
or the home of Elvis Presley when he was a young man. ''The
possibilities'', to quote lovely Elizabeth Montgomery, back in that
sixties show on TV, called Bewitched, ''are endless''. Do not think
about one other thing other than this, and within one minute you will
be back asleep, only you will be awake in your doppelganger self in
some parallel universe, where indeed, due to the mathematical
immensity of the fifth dimension, you will be there, because you in
this alternate reality, are there. The second you are there, you need
to take command and tell yourself, I just did this, hay that buttwipe
Mountainpen is no fake phony asshole, this works, so let me do the
next thing he says. That would be to say to yourself, ''I really am
here, and now I can choose to take over my other self and become a
true transdimensional somnambulist. Sleep walkers are nothing more
than TYPE-2-EXPLORATRON travelers, in the stage of experimentation,
invisible to you as you are in the same reality as the one asleep and
walking, but inside that sleepwalker, is their double from another
dimension in the multiverse, in the D-5 or FIFTH DIMENSION. I was
only a TYPE-1-EXPTN, but am planning on telling a powerful story, as
we begin the opening minutes of DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME, HERE IN
AMERICA; and my own stupid invention, from a long time ago.
Recently,
the temperatures here have been heavenly, less than eighty with nice
dropping overnight breaks from any heat. This won't last much longer
so I am sucking it all up while I can like a dry sponge striking a
universe of ocean. I fell asleep around just past two yesterday
afternoon, Saturday, and slept until just past ten last night.
Somewhere towards the end of the period, I was inside of powerful
vivid dreaming interactions. I knew it, but had no control, as I did
not take the normal steps of mental exercise to allow for this brain
to Mind-Realm connection circuitry, to make this all operate in this
mode. Just why it does, by the way, don't ask me, just know that I
know, that indeed folks, it does. So I had no control, but I was in a
very vivid situation, powerless to make my doppelganger do anything,
hence, it was doing what it wanted to do, in this particular world
reality. I was traveling a lot, and unlike the days of the early and
middle eighties, in the parallel universe where I was employed as
some traveling promotion agent for the S-DAY-LAUDER peeps, I am
spelling it as it sounds and have no idea how it is properly spelled;
but unlike with this, I was not any kind of sales rep or anything
remotely connected to this kind of situation, and fully know that, as
my double fully knew quite naturally, what he was doing in his life,
and I was just along for the ride, for lack of a better way of saying
it. I was in a large restaurant and everyone was filing out for some
reason and I was suddenly there by myself, possibly as the guard, as
I have done a lot of this type of work here in this universe, but in
cosmic fifth dimensional truth, that really is totally meaningless,
as we all have universes where we all have done every possible thing
and been every possible one of us, and have interacted with every
possible one of us in every possible relationship. This seems beyond
inconceivable, but that is only because numbers like one times ten to
the power of a quadrillion are so beyond the reach of your mind, and
this is a pin head amount of the total of these universes next to the
real total amount of them in all of the entire multiverse or the
hyperspace. Anyway, my aunt Geraldine snow was suddenly there, and
after a while, I knew that this was not my aunt, and just as I
realized this, in walked my parents who I totally knew in this
universe, were not my parents. Then five people ranging in age from
12 to 30 for a best guess on my part, also were coming into this
place, and they all seated themselves around a very large square
table with a red and white tablecloth with checkerboard type pattern,
and then blue stars were inside many of the multiple squares. I
suddenly looked up and I observed a sign on the wall, and it said,
THE RED WHITE AND BLUE LODGE. Later I came to learn that this was a
mountain retreat for skiers, and that this family, of which I was no
part of there, appeared to be the owners of this quite large and
quite gorgeous establishment. They saw me sitting at a table across
from them and totally ignored me, so I pretended to have a stroke,
and grabbed my head and fell down off of my chair. Instead of helping
me however, the two older guys who might have been my brothers only
they were not in this parallel reality, began mercilessly kicking me
in the head and ribs. They had sneakers on and even though blood was
pouring from me, I was not mortally wounded, but I found myself tied
up in the back room after going unconscious. My Aunt Geraldine Snow
who was not my Aunt over there, told them to all leave the room. She
then proceeded to ask me who I was and why I am there and why I faked
having a stroke. I was still bleeding and told her if someone would
call for medical hep and let me have a wet cloth to hold on my messed
up face following my beating, I would then tell her what I was able
to. With that she punched me real hard right smack on top of my
shoulder, then took off her shoe and began to beat me on the top of
my head with it. While the beating was going on, someone from inside
the main area hollered out, ”turn on the dam ass music, so that we
don't have to hear the prick yelling so much”. Suddenly I coul;d
hear the word 'MY' and then a really loud drumbeat, and then the song
that I wrote back in early August of 1986, called, “Real Good
Girl'', began playing on a powerful system. I heard my own rotten
voice singing it, and the powerful loud crashing of the cymbals and
the loud drum like sounds from numerous fake things that made those
sounds, right down to me pounding my fists hard on the floor of my
landlord's home in Cherry Hill, at 1931 Route 70, AKA the Marlton
Pike, East. After the song was over, I noticed that another sign was
hanging in the room that I was in, saying, CONGRATS TO THE GRADUATES
OF CHELTENHAM HIGH. For those who just may remember from blogs around
2010, I had a powerful interaction about my cousin Donald and my
cousin Sandy; and part of it was about them telling me to go over to
that high school, in Pennsylvania, and just exactly why; I could not
and still cannot; begin to imagine the reason. I have never even been
to Cheltenham, Pennsylvania. Two words are in this town's name that
are real actual words, if you notice; TEN, and HAM. Biblically, the
ten commandments and people refusing to live by them, in the days of
Noah, who had a son by the name of HAM, along with Japeth and 'SHEM';
matching the first syllable in the name with one half of the letters
and also being the word of 'HE', and other than for these Babylonian
super sleuth clues, Kim Wild Weird-Chords; I do not know what else to
say regarding this. What I will tell you, is that, and I know some of
you out here have had this happen in your lives so don't bother
denying it; but I realized this was a 'dream' that I had in part, on
numerous other occasions, not in any serial order, but it was as some
call these things, 'recurring dreams'. I always liked that L&O
episode where the lawyer Dworkin tells the jury of his recurring
dream with going out to work naked, in New York City, how his day
started in the subway, then onto the way it continued at work, with
Susie, and so forth. Still, I am in this parallel universe a lot, in
my present life mind energy as a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, and for the
first time now, as a TYPE-2, and now after I tell you a little bit
about this folks; maybe you will understand when I tell you that I
definitely plan to go back as a TYPE-3, (T-3-E). Suddenly there was
nobody anywhere, not in this room behind the main dining hall, or in
the main areas either. Now I found myself walking completely outside
and noticing huge snowy mountains, and a huge sign advertising this
lodge, and lots of folks all waiting for a ski life to take them to
the top of a ski area. All of a sudden, one of the most awesome
beautiful young hunny's that I ever saw in my entire life, almost a
twin of that tall goddess on the old Lizzy McGuire show staring
delicious Hillary Duff, back early in this century on the Disney
channel or Nick, or whatever. Looks like
Microsucks Spellchecker needs some fucking Viagra, not
recognizing a commonly used term that I attempted spelling three
different ways. Anyway, the girl was like the popular goddess of the
school, by the name of KATE. This is very much how this girl
appeared, only as tall as Kate was in the show, this giant teen
goddess had to be a foot taller and towered over everybody, and was
wearing the most beautiful colored jacked, and had long light brown
hair much like the great Sarah Krassle. She came up to me and began
telling me that it won't work, and to leave the place, and she
repeated it over and over. My doppelganger just kept saying back to
her, not to get involved in it. This is when I turned and found my
car, parked and unlocked, keys already in the ignition, in the lot
close to the ski lift. I got in and began to drive away, and within
ten minutes, this goddess passed me and tried to make me stop my car,
and this went on quite a while until I stopped and she then got into
my car after pulling hers over to the side of the road and shutting
it off. This is when she told me they are never going to let me know
where they hid the 74-WP. I then found myself pulling over and begin
discussing this with her. I asked her all sorts of questions, I
didn't, but this doppelganger other me was doing it; with me along
for the ride. She eventually told me that she could help me get it,
but that the price would be for me to sign the papers. After a while,
I realized what these papers were. Her father was the owner of some
large NASA connected private company that wanted to have the details
about Sunram's DE system. She did not seem to even know about these
details, only speaking in ways that ki was suddenly able to catch on,
due to what I knew. Then things changed in some ways that did not
pertain to here in my world now where I type this, so I cannot begin
to figure it out. She said I had to go to Staten Island and tell that
meddling girlfriend to stop trying to get that lawsuit going. All
this other me kept saying is that I had no power to tell her
anything, and then she kept telling me that I did indirectly, and
that I needed to keep mister Java Queen out of their affairs. This
went on a while and she then asked me to take her back to her car and
I did so. When I drove off I thought that she had driven the other
way and back up the ski resort, but somehow she deiced to turn around
and again, started chasing me and passing me and doing all kinds of
maneuvers in her vehicle that made me finally pull over again. But
this time she then put her car in reverse and came parallel to mine,
and a passenger was in there with her, and it was, well, I wanted to
say, my aunt Geraldine Snow, but she is not my Aunt over there. Her
window rolled down and she aimed a large magnum, the same type gun
that record promoter Lenny McKinnon pulled on me in the summer time
of 1980 in Philadelphia when he insisted that I run a red light near
city hall across Broad Street one hot ass afternoon in late July.
Then I heard shots, and the left side of my body was on fire.
Literally, on fire, not like the expression goes when someone is shot
and it feels like this type of agony. I was on fire, and the car
caught fire. This gun shot out something, and it was not like a flame
thrower, but more like small tablets that came into my window and
just burst into flame. The car began speeding away ahead of me, and I
stopped my car and tried to run outside, but the door would not open.
I remember the agony of burning and burning, and me screaming for
minutes so loudly that I had no voice left. Then like magic, it was
just past ten at night, and I was here, and that was over.
However,
the eye problem came back once I crossed back over to here. I'll have
to get it looked at next week by doctors. There some some weird
sounds coming from the hallway in the middle of my sleep time, and I
cannot be totally sure which universe it was coming from nor how it
could effect the sound. We all know that the same sound is two
different things most of time, in two universes. I used to be inside
of 'dreams' back in 1964 where buzzing birds or machines were doing
something around me, and then I would come back to here, and it was
my father in the bathroom of the 125-A Haddon Hills apartments, with
his electric shaver, shaving himself.
JOURNAL
TAPE 25,734 continues onward, L-4. It
goes from bad to worse, to worse-even-more, to holy fucking Jesus
Christ; so be sitting down for this daily update and report, folks,
pweeeeeeeeeze, BRO! I went up on the computer to check my e-mails
which I had not done in about 4 days give or take, and had some real
weird difficulty with my Comcast Account, where my address is
mountainpen@comcast.net.
I
think your message finally went through, SEABOTTOM, as even though I
got only a circle with a red line through it as a response to my
hitting the SEND, I also did this on a few other e-mail places, and
think they went through, but still cannot be sure, as one was the
Copyright Office, and they sent me a confirmation that they did get
my note, but I had also left a voicemail on someone's machine on the
telephone, so there is no was for me to be positive, either way.
Normally I get a flashing quick MESSAGE SENT prompt, but this is not
happening, to quote lovely Judge Judy.
UP-UP-UP-UP,
FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
are a lot of things I really want to say and tell. If I told, I would
be so fucking dead!!!!!!!! Oh
sweet mother of Viqueen gangs of the human equivalent Quoddy
Mockers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
MISSED ME, DIRTWEEDS DISEASESLEAZE JANE!
ATLANTIC
CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA is a place that from the very beginning, I knew
something was very very very wrong, lovely beautiful 1984 Ingrid. I
just hope someday before all is said and done, whoever is really most
responsible for all of my woes from this city of evil and power, can
scream out the last words of, I AM REALLY GOING
DOWN THE TOILET. Then maybe, some, not all; but some of this
shit will have been worth it, YO!!!!!!!!!!
SO
WILL GODDESS GET ME FOR THIS, LADY
FROM LONG BEACH ISLAND,
WOW,
AND IS THERE SUCH A WORD AS PROPHETESS??? IF NOT, DON'T YOU ALL THINK
THAT THERE SHOULD FREAKING ASS BE, YO YO YO YO?
Yes
Terry Egghead Harbors, I am most definitely an imperfect little
human being, in total control over the Endless Miseries Club of
Planet Earth,
but
not in control
of a whole lot else, mahm. Sorry about that 1986 Maxwell Smart Chief.
Blare those video games at me, brother!!!!!!!!!!!
GREAT
FOLKS, YO, I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, ALSO
KNOWN AS THE BOM, COINCIDENCE YOGI????
Silwee
WHAAAAABIT and others; I am here, just as I told the great UNITED
STATES © OFFICE, back in dancing McDonald's 1988, with my tune
called, ''PROPHET OF NOTHING'', WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Very few
things really change, as it is not things or people that change,
merely energy movements rearranging in the vast hyperspace fifth
dimensionally. W---O---W!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
You
go TIGER MARK!
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SUCH
A GREAT COSMIC NUMBER, 'STEW' MASON.
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
HERE
WE GO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bobby
McDowell of Fort Wayne, Indiana, United States of America,
ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My posting of the Jupiter inlet is always
coming out blurry, yet on the real website itself, it does not.
Another hack given to me by that lovely group of nice fine fellows
and lassies, the groovy wonderful WOMO-MILITUFAWCE, Huh, Mister
Hall????????????????????
For
the record and getting on with Thirty-Fourth miraculous clauses,
cases, and Patty Hollister's from 1975; permit me UNCLE ON BENT
GOZZWALD KNEES HEINZ, to just say this little squib here,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
am going to be TELLING
HUGE FUCKING SECRETS
TO PEEPS BEYOND THIS PUNY BLOG VIEWERSHIP. 2020 IS A GOOD TIME TO GET
SHIT ALL CLEARED UP, SYMBOLICALLY, BUT WE WON'T BE WAITING THIS LONG,
JAMES T. BURR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll
start with this quick little one that is not going to cause anyone
anywhere even the slightest bit of pain or agony, and is more than
true and more than deserved. The Bonjovi peeps told me that my blogs
make me sound so angry all the time, and they wonder why. THEY WONDER
WHY. Well, grab a big mirror and put it in front of you. You are
merely the latest group of such nice wonderful peeps, that make me
what I am, and cause me to write so many angry words. If you have to
really wonder, then you know what, this entire world might as well
just go right mother fucking back to swinging from tree to tree on
nice juicy thick vines. There is no use in me saying another dam
fucking word, not now and not here, and not anywhere at all, lovely
DZA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“BE
BLUNT, OR BE IGNORED; A SHAME BUT TRUE”
Even
when I am totally in your fucking face and flat out blunt as all shit
cubed in Daddy's Cuba, Dawny TPB Terra, they don't hear, Uncle Jesus
Carpenter and great U.S. © Office, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
want so bad to be subtle and say a thousand cool things, but nobody
gets most of my story when I come out shouting from rooftops with
extremely blunt and major controversial statements and facts. I had
plans this weekend to see Mikey on the island, but my horrendous
toothache put the kibosh on that. The agony was quite intense until
last evening after the weekend was over. Too coincidental to be a
coincidence, huh Mister Berra, well, I certainly agree with you old
pal. No need to ever try twisting my freaking arm. Very
sorry folks, it is never really my intention to cause any suffering
to innocent people.
To
function back in the days when this world was transitioning into a
totally different animal than ever before, and those too young to
know this, simply don't, but it takes a lot of money and flowing
readily available liquid capital. The main vehicle that was created
for only one purpose, their purpose, a long time ago; is indeed, the
MARKETS. But why did things go nuts after early 1983 when the DJIA
for the first time in its long history even then, crossed over the
three digit mark and into 1000+ points, forever? Well, this would
take years to type up and tell, and I will tell bits and parts here
and there, but there really is no short story that can be made about
this monstrosity!!!!
CONVERSATION
IN 1979 WITH A MYSTERIOUS MR. CALDWELL:
Someone
told me that metals will not be inexpensive much longer, and that he
did not wish to say more. Naturally I pressed and pressed the dude
until he broke and swore me to secrecy. It does not matter because he
disappeared and his entire family disappeared, about a year or so
later, some time in the year of 1975. But I will tell you what he
said. He said a huge secret was learned accidentally by members in
his family about Fort Knox, and that the place was secretly being
expanded underground, new tunnels that went very deep into new areas
being excavated. A huge river, an underground river was just below
where the bottom foundation was, and that after all of the gold in
the entire place was taken to its new areas, a break in the
foundation below it all caused the river even below that, to begin
seeping in, and men had died trying to get the gold out of there.
They were unrecognizable and had to be secretly disposed of. This
river from the subterranean depths had an extremely high acidity due
to some volcanic action nearby even below this. All he said to me was
it cannot ever ever come out or the world would collapse, but all of
our gold was literally eaten away by this river of pure acid. They
closed up the tunnels, with a loss of dozens of super hushed up
workmen, and that was that. I asked him how the invention had
anything to do with it, and he said that his grandchildren were going
to be drilled and drilled to use this on a grand scale someday like
around 2020 or so, his exact words and timing, not mine. I still
said, so what? He said this machine's side effect is beyond
incredible, but it needs to be refined abnd worked on and will take
decades, but it will be able to be done, and what it will do is turn
magma and lava material, when mixed with this chemical in small
doses, and hundreds of gallons of normal seawater, into gold, pure
total solid gold. Someday the price will be pennies a pound, but for
the next number of decades, until this device can be finished, metals
will soar because of the problem at Knox. I never saw or heard from
him again, and 9 and a half years later, his good friend Jim Burr
gave me the old invention of the weird laptop before there were
laptops, in exchange for a magazine that I had. He was madly in love
with Connie Chung the newscaster. This was the 1978 September issue
of STAG, a dirty filthy mag like Penthouse or Playboy or a million
others out there in the dirty book stores. In this magazine that most
copies were confiscated, were dozens of naked disgusting shots of
this international news broadcaster, Connie Chung. I took the
invention down to Orlando Florida with me, but it ended up in the
streets of Washington, DC before arriving down in Orlando in December
of 1983, and nobody needs to know any of this,
NOBODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I did not get into these parts that I am
adding in for the sake of these blogs and my life journal records;
but what I did tell my brand new stock broker, Mister Dennis
Caldwell; was the forbidden story of Fort Knox, and I laughed and
said I'm sure it is all a bunch of bullshit. But the look on his face
was beyond the look a man would give you if you just told him that
you raped his teenaged daughter and his wife both together. I don't
think I ever saw a look on a face like this, not even in a movie. He
jumped up out of his seat telling me, and I remember it well, ''Be
right back old man'', one of his expressions, I came to learn, as I
looked like a 16 year old boy in those years. He came back and told
me if it's OK with me, can I leave now, I have seen the brokerage and
he had given me lots of time and now must get back to lots of stuff
he needed to do. While he said this to me, phones were ringing off of
the hook and the place went from half asleep to a mad house. I got
home and it was after business hours, it was a long drive back in
rush hour traffic, to Audubon, New Jersey and Audrey Heller's place.
Next morning while dead to the world, Audrey at her job and me alone
in the house, Dennis calls me and says, after I said hello and he
said ''Mark, it's you right'', and I said yeppir or something like
that, half asleep. He then said, ''LOCK LIMIT UP''. I said to him
what's that mean? He said that is good, your position in the
palladium contract was at maximum profit and already no longer able
to even trade today. Next morning he called and did not wait for me
to say it is me, and he said, ''LOCK LIMIT UP''. This was the
beginning of the gold rush. I know I started it by telling the great
Zvonko Knox secret, real or not real, who can ever know, but I had no
intention of trying to manipulate a fucking metal market. Right after
this, that jerk off wealth HUNT from HUNT FOOD, did indeed go onto
corner the solver market, and this is a historical fact that anyone
out here can check out with simple Googling. Now many chemists know
that nothing can make gold tarnish or in any way injure it. Actually,
it can be melted as the great mints of the world all know, and it can
all flow away, deep into the earth. I never meant to say that this is
not what happened, but when I do not share an entire story at an exat
time that I tell it, maybe I have very justified reasons for mo
otherwise methods of madness, as many feel with me, is the case. Hay
Mashell and others, YOU'RE ALL ENTITLED, AS AM I, TO YOUR WONDERFUL
OPINIONS. I just happen to know a little bit that other people on
this planet don't. This is a fact, and the entire world is fucking
free to call me a god dam ass liar, anytime, any place, YO
BRO!!!!!!!!!!! SO LIMIT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OH
SHIT
does
anything that resembles fucking normalcy, ever become a part of my
screwy weird life, ladies and gentlemen????????
If
anyone out here reading me even for one or two years, let alone 3-8;
really thinks you have been told all the huge shit about my life, you
are about as far off base as all the baseball game stolen base losses
all put together, and tripled!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You honestly
have only been given a smattering, about musical saga's, Jefferson
supergirls, and great wonderful powerful Aunt Oz Geraldine's; all
notwithstanding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 57 DEGREES FNHT.
Feels
100! Actually
that is a lie, it feels quite nice tonight. TEE-HEE-HEE,
Lilly Munster.
CURRENT
NUMBERS ARE BELOW AT END OF BLOG, YO!!!
PAGEVIEWS
TODAY----------------------
PAGEVIEWS
YESTERDAY--------------
PAGEVIEWS
LAST 30 DAYS------------
PAGEVIEWS
ALL TIME HISTORY---
COME
BACK TO ME ROSEANN DELANEY, IN ANTY FORM, YO!!!!!!!!
Back
in 1977, I met a real jerk off named Jan, who did sound recording and
thought he was a little god at the age of twenty-nine. He had a
little studio in a music store in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, where I
did a total of five songs between 1977 and 1980, and he did such a
rotten job, that Howard Solomon at the RPL Studios in Camden, New
Jersey; reworked the mixes to make them a little more alive and a
little bit better. But just exactly how does Jan Nace and Dennis
Caldwell of the Clayton Brokerage, all fit together as I told that it
does, a while back; you may still be wondering, folks? Well,
for openers, TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS from universes all throughout
hyperspace,
do a lot more than know how to join up with the Lambrigg
Cult of the Astral-Plane,
fly around in weird creepy air saucers, build weird looking work-bots
that we have all mistaken for space-aliens (SPAL) as it will come to
be called later towards the end of this century, and these lovely
wonderful darling awesome people, LOVE TO PLAY GAMES, with the rest
of the NON-TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, and the intricacies and elucidations
to this as well as Jan Nace and Dennis Caldwell, would require about
a dozen WAR AND PEACE TOLSTOYU novels, for me to even start cracking
open, all of this major mother fucking shit. That does not mean it is
not there, or that I could not write it all and crack it all open. I
will do all of this, just give me some time, and hay all good Delaney
vamps out there, where are you when I need you and WALMART
VOICEMAILS, BRAH??????????
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
|
YES
EVER SINCE THE VAMPIRE LINK LEFT ME,
MY BLOGS WENT TO HICKEY CITY, ROSIE GIRL. OUCH, IN MORE WAYS THAN
THREE, HOW DO PEEPS LIVE WITH THEIR EMMEREFFING CONSCIENCES FOR 44
AND A HALF YEARS?
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