The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": TAPE 25,735

And the games begin. Things were quiet, but as soon as my MIND CONNECTON began working, the sixth dimension to my physical world human brain, for lack of any other way of putting this; things began to start instantly. This is what I used to mislabel as ''They're reading my mind and fucking with me''. It is a very automated bunch of fucking hell that is all going on around us all, and me included, as in that respect, I am no different than any one of you. I differ only in this hell I must endlessly fucking endure, and my weird ability to keep persisting through time and surviving it, which led me to total enlightenment, not to mean for a second that I know it all. Enlightenment to some basic truths has nothing what so fucking ever to do with knowledge regarding individual things in the physical world. A brain is a brain, and whether it be a little bigger or better physically than a somewhat punier brain, it is basically a ten watt receiving element from the sixth dimension, and you just cannot put ten million watts into a ten watt item, this would be tantamount to thinking you can go buy amplifiers and hook them up together like a professional musician on a large stage, totally say 10,000 watts, and then hooking these into output audio monitors or (speakers) that only total 10 watts of power handling ability. So even though the newest thing being discussed in the scientific community is varying formulas regarding how much can ever be known due to some various unbreakable codes that are all somehow built into cosmos, the real truth is the double knowledge horizon barrier, caused by this wattage example given here. Even the collective of all of humanity forever, is a one watt speaker on a book shelf, and the total absolute system of knowable items comes from a source putting out billions of these parable-watts. This causes the mirage that the more we learn, we see that there is so much more to learn, like holding two small cardboard rectangles in front of our face, and each time you move the one closer to your eyes one inch further away so you can see more, you need to move the other piece that is further away, 5 inches more away. Long Story Short (LSS), folks; we CANNOT ever know so much, that knowing all we ever could, would be basically meaningless, in the real absolute big picture of everything, and we would be just about where we all are right now, at best; if we could reach that point. What Morianity will do, if it is ever meant to, and it won't if it is n ot meant to, and who can ever know; is stop all that talk about supernatural verbiage, you know, demons and devils, possession, miracles, heaven and hell, and along this line, and also simultaneously, put to a quick halt, all the new so called replacements for these old times items, you know, aliens, extraterrestrial visitations, abductions, little gray's interfering with humanity, and along that line, as well. There is one powerful truth and always has been and always will be, and you know what I am going to say next, or really, you have no reason to be wasting your time up here on my blogs reading me. I speak of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY. Those such as my old pal mister Baptest, who prefer to insist that MIND is not EVERYTHING, that other THINGS OUT BEYOND IT is what it is all about, will never alter their opinions. MIND is what created space and time, hence SPACE-TIME-MIND or STM for a short abbreviation, and this is truth no matter what and n o matter who loves this or hates this. Since MIND is on a higher dimension than the hyperspace, and sends itself therefore down into the multiverse of virtually unlimited 4-D space-time universes that all vibrate differently on a powerful subatomic level, then this has to be the truth, and no math formula can or ever will, disprove my words, and or Morianity.

THIS IS TAPE JOURNAL 25,735.

So now that we are not ever going to use the old accepted language from either of these two very yesterday ideas in the eyes of MORIANITY, bear in mind please, that the blogs that now continue along, will speak only in the true language that I could have used all along, for more than eight years; but needed to walk anyone interested in all my shit, through this first IN THEIR LANGUAGE AND BASED ON STUFF THAT THEY CAN RELATE TO, but now, you CAN RELATE, to the language of Morianity, and this will be used therefore from now on. I never said I won't bring up these older terms, you know what I am trying to say, without me wasting another three pages trying to make it more simple or more palatable for any of you, BRO!

We are going to discuss on this blog, my basic five years where things all changed forever, on Mark Wayne Mohr Street, and on Wall Street, setting up the most incredible thing in the universe that for reasons obvious only to me it appears; only I see clearly and am totally aware of. I am speaking of 1982 through 1986.

Many readers, or said more accurately, the large percentage of the readers, as the word many makes me a fucking liar right off the dam ass bat; but the vast majority who entertain Morianity, or entertain themselves by reading it, either or; yuk yuk yuk, McNulty dude from 42 and a half years back into time at Exton, PAUSAESMWG; are slowly, whether they know or or not or like it or not, changing. Everything we do changes and effects us, without an option. This being said, if my read count drops to total zero and bye-bye, then I will know more than anything else, that indeed, Morianity has accomplished quite a bit on humanity's collective consciousness, but I seriously doubt this to be the case, great folks. So the magic period of these five years, must be about something, or someone '(entity) whatever' Oak Street Bob old pal and ex-country vocalist, of 1975-1980; and it also needs to be about another tangible and intelligently arguable item in waking world reality, and it is; AN AGENDA, and whose? Little men from Jukaten Heights-4893FJBE? No sir. Powerful businessmen on Wall Street in Manhattan and other world owners all by their little lonesomes? Gimme; a break. The various top five to ten global governments or one international overseeing force? Get real. But put all of these and many other similar ideas together, and you suddenly can find yourself driving along on a hot summers day on a blacktop road seeing some water ahead of you that you never seem to reach, with or without transdimensional relatives trying to do a McKinnon on you or maybe I should say, a Dawn Matchbook King, and not the Gawnum type of matchbook, peeps; AHA! So what is the big deal of these five years in the period and history of my personal life, again, 1982 through 1986? First off, this transition period on Wall Street in the great stock markets of the world, recognize this period as every bit as huge as my claims on this blog are doing, they would if forced to speak these truths anyway, as for if not forced to, it is quite doubtful they'd ever say or do anything that would open this ten cubic light year box of cosmic worm cans and hornets nests, huh my 'latengrate' friend, Mister David Roth?

MARCH 10, 2014,

MONDAY MORNING AT 4:28,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 59 DEGREES FNHT.

The first of three times living at the Robin Hill Apartments in Voorhees, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG, is a very powerful and important part of MORIANITY, and my life story; and always freaking will be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The year of 1982 was the final year of this first rental there, moving in on May 1, 1980, and leaving on January 31, 1983. This also has a connection to a powerful DREAM or exploratronic situation back nearly ten years earlier, and when the place was still Jersey farm land. The dream, with who else but the great and powerful TAWF, (That Astral World Family) from the serial recurring nightmares back in 1970 while I was staying at the home of child molester, Thomas J. Reale, on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, had these same wild characters in it and that were interacting with me, and somehow without speaking to me ever in direct language, I just KNEW certain things that they were TELLING ME, or LETTING ME BECOME AWARE OF, whichever best resembles a closer truth and reality, and unlike the first experiences with them in 1970 where they identified themselves to me in this sort of telepathic and magical way, as THAT FAMILY, hence my name for them on these eight plus years of my blogs; but later on by a year or maybe 14-18 months give or take from original ''contact'', they come and use the two terms of ''The destruction of Haddonfield'', and also, ''The farm outside of Haddonfield that will destroy you''. This of course is the future Robin Hill. Believe what you like anyone out here, BUT I KNOW, and I would swear to all of this in court, on this very morning; and I would say this is all totally real and true, if taken to the Oval Office later today and asked for verification of these posted words, by the President of these United States, himself. Why? Because it is the fucking total absolute undeniable fucking truth that's dam why, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I needed to state some of the powerful things that happened both at, as well as long before; I ever resided on this great DESTRUCTIVE FARM, OUTSIDE OF HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY; 9 YEARS IN THE FUTURE, from when the exploratronic contact, made me privy to this all happening in my future, as it did all come to pass, and took decades and a brand new century and then some, for all of it to properly sink in and make some sense in my pathetic fucked up and totally twisted life. It was only about 5 weeks from moving into this place on May 1 of 1980, that I had that incredible exploratronic experience with SARAH KRASSLE, who sang a lovely special song to me, called, ''Love Is For Carpenters'', and never allowed me to catch onto who she really was for many years to come, and even then, it took a lifetime to put it all together enough to really think that finally, most of the pieces are perfectly all fitting together. This led to the powerful exploratronic event of seeing Gawky Gaukauk on a bus being held in a heavy set woman's lap, on a bus, and where they exited this bus at a street corner somewhere in Philadelphia in some neighborhood well outside the central city area itself, and entered into a bar, and I for whatever reason was tagging along with them, and this cat meowed the word ''DIE'' three times to me while still on the bus, and many of you know the full story, which is not germane to this blog and present moment. Within a short space of time, the PLAYBOY BUNNY and her ENTERTAINMENT MAFIA CASINO PALS moved in below me and had huge parties with limos parked all around the place, every mother fucking weekend. My mom and I could not take this shit any longer, and we broke our lease on a medical technicality, signed off by Doctor Edmund Housel of Philadelphian, our family PCP before there were such PC things as PCP's. This is when I moved with my mom to that split level home in Atco, New Jersey, and plugged in a machine that was not from this world, called, PRIVECODE, well, I was told by an electronics expert, nearly two decades later, that the electronics inside of it were ''totally alien'' to quote his words. I used it to communicate with LIGHTNING. This is all you need to know for now regarding any of this, and you may already know a lot about this from reading my blogs for years, if you are an older follower, from back when my blogs were before this current one that Meghan my computer guru, helped me get up after a major hack on the BLOGGER DOT COM WEBSITE occurred back late in the year of 2011, closing down my older five blogs, and I now can only cut and paste these archived blogs into this new blogs, and do this, upon numerous occasions.

As for the details on many wild things that went down in 1982 through 1986, this is scattered around on a million words of old blogs, but now with new terms and labels, I will do sort of a compressed book report. This I feel is urgent at this point, and if I did not feel that way, then I wold not be wasting my time doing this. The ESS had all of these wild things of this 5 year period, all planned out millions of years ago. To them, time is as meaningless and moaningless as you or I deciding to watch the Science Channel on television today, or driving over to the beach for a swim. Totally meaningless. They can do anything they want to do, and they do it because they can do it, asnd they enjoy doing it, and it keeps their minds off of something that nonem of you can properly understand, if I explained it over and over and over and over, because as human beings alive in a mirage, you would see the way you see so many other things; IN TOTAL REVERSE TRUTH. Still, my point to this, is that there are some non ESS powers and power structures, that do in fact know quite a bit of the secrets in Morianity, and this is WHAT THEY ARE COVERING UP, AND WILL GO RIGHT ON COVERING UP, IF THEY HAVE TO KILL YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AND YOUR FRIENDS OR BURN DOWN YOUR BUSINESS OR YOUR HOME, or whatever it takes, and I will make a wild statement here now, wilder than the one I just made. I can totally understand their point of view. I didn't fucking cunt say, I AGREED WITH their method of madness, only that I do indeed, TOTALLY FUCKING UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHORE FUCKING JANE SHITHEAD NOTFONDAUONEBIT JUST NAILED ME GOOD, WITH PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, SO LET ME COMPENSATE FOR HER FUCKING EXPLORATRONIC ATTACK THAT I APPEAR absolutely powerless to combat, am I right or am I not right, LOVELY LADIES AND GENTLERMEN OUT HERE FOR 8+ YEARS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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SUCH A GREAT COSMIC NUMBER, 'STEW' MASON.

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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 and Uncle Goukas Stew??? Don't even think of messing with my GODDESS MIDDIE, & that goes for my great CUZZ as well; Mike McNulty sir, AHA-AHA!!!!!!

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!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for helping my mother and I move to 1118 Linden Flashlight Stairwell Hill Apartments on March 1, 1975, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

OH WOW AND SHIT And all the rest of it, when will you leave me alone, you rotten whore Jane?????????????? OUCH, YOU MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now as for the chocking condition given to me in early June of 1983, how else was the great LAB-TECH going to enter into my life, and become any kind of believable freaking possibility; Elizabeth Montgomery, oh yeah, sorry, I forgot; don't want to use Patty's candles to talk to her, WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

But still, pain or no pain, let us get into 1983 and 1984, as just as 1980 through 1982 all led up to fucking shit that brought my life into what it was in 1983 and 1984, so also were these years there, to bring me into the great and powerful Uncle Ozzwald Babylonian at 175 Peninsula Drive, needed to bring my life into the unfathomable years of 1985 and 1986. After this, the ESS period of transition had completed, and even the skies changed, as all UFOLOGISTS totally know. What they refuse to understand is that I know why it all went down, and they don't have a mother fucking rats ass clue, and it makes me want to cry like a turd chewing little baby, good peeps!!!!!

OH JESUS CHRIST CARPENTER, am I going to be TELLING HUGE FUCKING SECRETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh by gash by golly, Cooley hall is filled with worm holes and tree angels, and to think I actually was gicven the clue in twenty-ten about the numbers of 2 and 22, huh Sarah Watergate Jacobson Jehovah, my endless teen queen goddess????????? The ESS is nothing to take lightly good folks. Treat it as you would a house filled with angry Dobbies and Pit Bulls and you're about to get fucking pushed into this place with no escape. Sound like fun? Sound like my life a little bit, YO????????????????

Now in rapping this blog up, believe this. All this shit about these five major years could be the start of a brand new entire mother fucking blog. It won't be, I'm just saying! The crap that's gonna' fucking be explored is gonna' take all of you who are willing to open up your minds and go along with me, into uncharted territory that even Shitner and his daddy-auto late eighties kid has never been. Don't worry, I don't expect a thank you letter, not now, not ever, you ton of whale manure.

''BE BLUNT, OR BE IGNORED; ASHAME BUT TRUE''

VERY FUCKING ASHAME, AND TOTALLY ACCURATE!!!

I am going to off beddie-bye, good peeps.

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!!!!!!!!!!!

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT, did somebody just say oh stink to hell, YO???????

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 59 DEGREES FNHT.

Feels 100! Actually that is a lie, it feels sort of OK tonight. TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Munster!!!

The humidity has been 100% for days, Lilly!

So why when I started to watch 'L&O' on the WE CHANNEL, did they take it off directly after I enjoyed it one night a week or so back? They don't want me happy, do they doctor Garrigan? Also, Paula Uwich warned me about that rotten family, and they are pals with my wonderful daughter, I know this, without paying over nine grand for your fucked up psychic service, phony lady. Hang around, all Paula's, the Huntington's have a way of catching up with people, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. You're not gonna' send me a fifteen year old, Paula? I don't want you to, you crazy little bitch. Enjoy your home all fixed up and lovely, with MY MONEY. How do you sleep at night? Just how long is the Camden County New Jersey 911 system gonna' keep the great secrets of the murderers in my rotten ass family, huh Sarah Slut Callio?

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 143

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297

SBT-DATFILE: CH-143-050711.971.55 AKA (May 7, 2011) WHAAAAA!

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

BLOG SUTITLE 3: “STILL PICKING ON ME, YOU MUST

HAVE ONE POWERFUL DEATH WISH MY FRIENDS”

2006-2011----(THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN)

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Ed Lynch was a strange old dog my friends and fiends out there. Ann Silva told me on the telephone just the other day, that she never heard anything from him, and wonders if he remains in lock up, or is now out of the hotel. The Atlantic County Prosecutor's Office has my legally paid for website on his laptop's hard-drive. His machine was legally confiscated back in the summer time somewhere or early autumn, in the OH-MAROLA-NINE year. For those who wonder why I use this term, you should access my archived blogging texts at the site of www.blogger.com, in case you are not even reading these words on this site, as I post here, and to other internet spots. In case you won't do this, I had several teachers in 1969 at a Haddonfield, New Jersey, special education school, who both made some statements to me that would have no possible rational explanation for being in fact made to me, one especially to a boy not yet even fifteen years of age, that would at least in today's world, would be considered quite inappropriate, and in my opinion, sufficient grounds for getting a teacher suspended or canned completely. We need not get into that one, but as for the dates being called what I do from time to time, this teacher by the name of Misses Marola, always refered to years in this 21^st century as for example, 2004 would be spoken as two thousand four. Now bear in mind that this was being done in the year of 1969, and except for the show known as, “2001, A Space Odyssey”, all science fiction writers, and all other people, spoke of years as 2004 for example as twenty-oh-four, and so forth; and somehow the mighty Misses Marola seemed to either be the only one who knew this by lucky chance and guesswork, or because she 'traveled', and we are not talking about Europe or the Bahamas, huh Nick, my old road-trip pal of 1996 and 2008? Many people write books, and claim how their so-called psychic abilities permit them traveling around so many wild mysterious realms, and other times, and the Astral Plane; and I'll be quite frank with my readers, I am very skeptical of 99+% of these people, and their writings, and their claims. Most 'of', you, and (NOT ODF) are also just as skeptical of mine. The difference with mine however, is that these blogs are date and time stamped by the websites they post up into, and cannot be CHEATED. Nobody is black boxing between two websites here that they own, just to push counters up. No one is black boxing between their own website and their own U-tube postings either. This is all non-cheated, and REAL, and so are my claims that what has happened to me, HAS INDEED FREAKING HAPPENED TO ME FOLKS. Why anybody would cheat, or lie about anything; blows my mind. Maybe a few real psychics are out there, but again, these persons are merely able to expand on the same sense of FEEL, that all of us have, it is like the human muscular system. Lift enough heavy barbells, and keep upping the amount of weight you lift on various exercises, that make different muscle groups grow bigger and harder and stronger; and growing stronger is what results. Some truth is here, and Paula Uwich of Glendora, New Jersey, is my personal proof to all of this, as she has 'real power', and she knew about Braxton, and from there; my own research just went on to super confirm many other things, that I had suspected right along. How could she know that “SARAH” was in prison? I SHOULD KNOW about this type of maximum security prison, as I blogged my own version of it. Nothing is making any of this vanish into the hat of the Copperfield's, YET? Let me move on now, and tell that I was attacked today with quite a bit of annoying loud music, loud road noises, a computer Lattisaw hack jack attack quack, and also a diarrhea attack. This was all intentionally done to me by WOMO enemies, and they have not learned yet, that they will be counter struck with my blogged out words, immediately after giving me another emereffing rotten stinking BOTBAR day! Here is what I now will tell from yesterday, and unlimited future ammunition is available for me when these disease weeds of the bay, continue giving me endless crap. Also, at right about half past ten, just five quarters of an hour back, I took a super low and quite loud private airplane attack, zenithing right over the roof of this freaking ghetto house, here on the great all mighty 26^th Street, in good old FPFLUSAESMWG, in this exact signature vibration of the atomic hyperspace, in five dimensions.

The full long details will not be told, just a little bit to get some hearts pumping nice and hard. I spent 153 days and nights, all in one nine hour period; while residing in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG, living in another parallel universe, in 1986. Most of this story is not bloggable. It is way too powerful, and it involves United States Presidents, as well as top scientific and research facilities, and classified information. I have no desire to be taken to the BAY and have my door come crashing in a few hours from now by federal agents. Still, when I was in this other location, the All Mighty Goddess of this world and beyond, was interacting with me quite differently, as were other people in numerous positions of power, authority, and name recognition. I had been contacted by someone in Washington, DC, and ordered to report to an address there, where a secret meeting took place, with many powerful 'world owners'. They told me that a song that my daughter had written and I had copyrighted for her, was a cover up and that they knew I really could 'travel around' in unconventional ways, and demanded that I tell them exactly what the entire next 30 years would be like on Wall Street, and with major events. Naturally, I denied it all, and said it was just music, and that even if I could do these things, I would never be a party to this type of horrendous despicable behavior. I was then taken to some secret place in the Atlantic Ocean, an unknown small island, where the military had a totally covert operation going; and I was placed in a hospital type of housing area, mostly confined to one room, and to my bed. Eventually, I was able to convince these captors of mine, that I would cooperate with them, and so they released me back to a place where I was residing on Ohio Avenue, in Atlantic City, where a large walk up apartment building existed, that does not exist here in this universe, and where I was living with a very gorgeous laboratory technician from the Atlantic City Medical Center, by the name of Phyllis Alexander. My wife there, Paula King, and myself, had recently separated for a second time, and this time, it was because of some scandal about my being in trouble with Wall Street, and the SEC. I only have some of the details, but that is a lot more than I ever remembered so far, from this powerful 1986 interaction. I had many other places where I also lived, the main place was in Egg Harbor, New Jersey, and over here, is known as the Roundhouse Museum, but over there, it is exponentially larger and has five stories, and nearby to it, is another building that housed about 220 families, and all of the land around for several square miles; all was part of this one estate. Paula as well as my younger daughter PEE, all lived there, and I would visit there upon occasion. But I had a strange enemy that came from the future, and had fun playing with me like a toy. In my so-called fictional book called, “The Permission Barrier”, some of this story is told, and disguised around a bit. Still, it all happened. Putting pieces together in hindsight, when I stayed at Tom Reale's home in 1970, over there, I had been there every summer, and never at the Trinidad Hotel on Tennessee Avenue. There was no Tom Reale over there, just the Callio family, and the King family, and Victoria Callio and Paula King were all the same person there, whereas this is all different here. In this universe, I had fallen in love with Paula at the age of fifteen, and we were married two years later, but she left me in 1979, and said that I was too immature. The wild dude that I refer to as the alchemist in many old blogs over the past 4-6 years, was one of Robert McGuire's sons, and he had four sons. Over here, I do not know about his offspring, and never even checked out this line of the great family after him, as I was so busy checking his dad out, and those all around him in many directions. This is another man of mystery. Only the man named Ed Lynch knows this, besides me; as we witnessed his appearing in a photograph, and we have no memory at all of his ever being right there at the car on Tennessee Avenue that day. I was told that this same thing was done to both 'MI and me', a little Latin verbal humor here. The only reason that I have remembered it all slowly over the past two years or so, is because by pure random chance, I played the wrong side of a cassette tape at my job-site in my car, while guarding at the Cifaloglio Trucking site one night. Hearing the “MI” on the tape brought it all back, slowly, ever so slowly, and bit by bit, and piece by piece, I now am where I am, but at this place where I went to yesterday, or now really back on Friday, a strange dude explained something to me that put things into a major hyper time new perspective. The same enemies want me to help them in this universe, only here, they are using me in an entirely different way. Over there, casino gambling never happened in Atlantic City until the 21^st century came around. There was no roulette playing for me, and hence no learning about PARALLEL EVENT, and how to apply this technology to the game's three outside betting parameters, as explained by me on so many of my past blogging texts. Over here, they just use the parallel event on me, or said more accurately, against me, as they knew that they could make their Dow Jones Markets go from 1,600 points to 14,000 points within twenty years. They did exactly this, and the 20 years after 1986 all speaks for itself. Still, as Neilson puts it so well, this is how the story goes, but as I will now amend and add to these great words, there is a lot more to this freaking tale of misery and woe, and it will be forthcoming, first to the Atlantic County Prosecutor, as I am going to demand my website back, as I legally paid for it, and I did nothing wrong; thus I plan to hire a Florida attorney, to pursue this matter, so I can re-post this up, as the 'MORIANITY-FOUNDATION-2'.

For all persons totally miserable, and who have begun realizing that this life here is total hell, and want to escape from it; read the last several blogs, and I will retell again in other ways, later on, why this works, why hyperspace is and does what it is and does, and why things break and crumble like Mount Saint Helen's Pedersen Miseries, Japan, and the American South, and on and on, when you do the simple electromagnetic trick that I know how to do, and have in fact been doing now, since 1980, or shall I rephrase, and say; since PITSY-1 or (Port-In-The-Storm Year-1).

They get rid of all the things that were landmarks that I tell the world where shit happens to me at, even the Treymore, as this was what led to the most powerful incident in my entire life, my meeting the great all mighty, here in the human flesh-worlds. They also in like manner, got rid of the Pathmark grocery store, in Turnersville, New Jersey. Anyway, this threat was made to my mom and me on the 2nd day of August, in 1996, just a few months after my writing the song SARAH, about my lovely queen. They did not like any part of my trying to get the song recorded, let alone more than that, getting a once huge star to sing it, Mister Billy Harner, the locals in my area knew him as the [human percolator], one helluva super cool dude. They certainly did not ever want the song 2 get any airplay, but it did, on WVLT radio in Vineland, New Jersey, as one dude, [George and George] as he called himself, would call every week and request the song to B played, and so it was. It even made it for one week to the number one spot on country music charts, in the independent music system, which if you ever saw a published [pie-chart], from those who should know, the great BMI, as only ASCAP and BMI are the 2 biggest royalty collecting agents in the entire global music industry, and by their pie chart, independent music makes up more than half of the major recording labels all put together, so don't sneeze at my minimal success. I paid federal taxes on musical royalties, and collected small royalties from 1998 when WVLT started airing SARAH, up until it slowed to a trickle of pocket change about 1 and 1/2 years ago, a helluva nice little run!!! I wrote Sarah, the song, on the 12th day of May of 1996, and my search and quest to locate my lovely teen queen super girl, was less than a year old. There is so much 2 tell all of U regarding this, and I'll get 2 it all, but first, gotta admit that it is a bit weird that August 1, of 2006, ten years later to the day except for 24 hours, and I am physically threatened again. If this dude keeps messing with me, it'll B his funeral, as I already have put 2 dudes in the big house for illegally 'effing' with me, over the years, huh 1983 (C).

posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 11:21 AM