JOURNAL
CASSETTE TAPE EQIVALENT NUMBER 25,752
All
weekend and especially on SUNDAY, the fucking jerk off door slammer
was here, the guest who comes to one of my neighboring apartments and
does nothing but slam in and out and make a lot of noise, along with
lots of shouting. When this fucking bastard shit eater is here, so is
trouble, all kinds, ranging from A-Z, and he can come and does come,
on no discernable patterns, but he never stops coming here and has
been part of the nightmare for me in this building ever since Mister
Stereo as I used to call him, left the apartment across from me a few
months after my arrival here at this place. My guess would say of
2011 and is definitely related to that jerk off James who I know let
the air out of my tire some time back. After I finish my short blog,
taker my bath and clean up in the shit-house, I'll be going
downstairs to speak to the resident manager.
Now
it is a couple hours later than when I first began this blog. I am
continuing along on this journal tape.
MARCH
24, 2014,
FRIDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:49,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 73 DEGREES FNHT.
HERE
I SIT ANGRY AS SHIT. THE SIXTIES WERE GREAT BUT NOW IT'S TOO LATE. SO
DO NOT SIT THERE BROKEN HEARTED, COME AND SHIT, DON'T SAY YOU
FARTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
my pal, Seabottom, I hope you had a lot merrier a holiday than I did,
and I also hope your life is not as continuously mother freaking
miserable as mine is,
24-7-365-2422!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
used to have a dude who knew just how powerful and real all this
horrible shitty hell in my life really was, especially pertaining to
any remotest connection to music and music-oriented endeavors of any
possible kind and or type. He knew it because, guess what my great
friend, he too suffered this very same affliction, and on a day that
he had looked forward to for years, after saving to buy a high end
drum set from a Philadelphia music store, in the seventies somewhere,
pow, he went to start up his Cadillac automobile, and nothing. It
died for no reason, and was not repairable. Prior to that day, even
though it had some mileage, maybe even a hundred-K, it ran like a
top, and my pal David Roth maintained his vehicles very well. Cars
you might say, next to music, was HIS THING, as we ''sixties kids''
used to say back in the great days. My friend, Seabottom, I am not
too chicken to tell you, that this man was also the victim of some
real hams and turkeys out there, as we once referred to some type of
peeps a while back into history. He most definitely was destined to
meet up with me at a department store job, where we were night time
security guards together, while the store was being stocked with
items. It was in November of 1985, and it was in Woodbury Heights,
and was called the Caldor Number 113 Store. A married wealthy couple
owned these chain stores, sort of another K-Mart or Walmart, just a
little less successful; but Coral and Dorothy, where the name
combination of Caldor, and this was store number 113 in Woodbury
Heights, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG. I will be continuing along with the
forbidden topic, MUSIC, after telling you what happened so far today,
kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Something
I recently heard on TV, and I am pretty sure from what else but the
greatest law show of all time, even surpassing that of the fifties,
''Perry Mason'' great law television show. If you stop someone from
doing what they are best at, it will drive them mad; yes it was L&O,
the Criminal Intent, and it was genius Tom Reale Studerer who said
this, yes Tommy boy had this studder only far worse, as I have eluded
to in my typing of the way he might speak a common every day
sentence. I would not make fun of him, but this pervert bastard
messed me up, and his powerful freaking New Jersey pals covered it up
and tried to kill me many times so I would not make trouble, then by
successfully getting me on the so-called CRACKPOT-LIST via my being
on a mental disability since late 1994, mission accomplished. I know
for a freaking fact that my family and folks surrounding my family
such as great almighty TAWF (That Family) from the 1970 Ventnor, New
Jersey recurring serial nightmares; are all totally involved in this
gigantic evil monstrous demonic conspiracy. Another man who roomed
with me knows, where there is smoke, there is fire; right wicked
Paula Uwich and evil Braxton sisters???????????
Mountainpen’s Blog
Just another
WordPress.com weblog
MEET CRACKPOT MOUNTAINPEN NEBNOOSHOO, OH YEAH, RIGHT
At
the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl
Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New
Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon,
roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in
various telephone conversations.
This fella is MOST
DFEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at
his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into
a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He
believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the
Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that
the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family(Mariah and
them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are
conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter
missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and
sending Atlantic City-residing life gaurds and bar tenders stealing
into the night, waiting to catch him off-gaurd. The only problem
being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes
they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on
his latest blogs.
Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March
16, 2012 at 09:00 AM
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We'll
get back to all of this, but first, here is my errand and day-so-far
report, dear life journal/diary/internet captains blog, Jim Kirk and
Fawces-Gary-God.
Yes,
I awoke to nice silence, no loud crap all around me. Still, I opened
up this blog and then closed it to finish up later. I took a nice
cool bath and cleaned up and then went to the Publix Grocery Store on
Route One here in Fort Pierce. I purchased 30 bucks worth of good
staples and food products that will carry me through until my April
disability money is credited into my account, one week after my older
daughter turns double fours, and five days after my youngest turns
17, all Stone Harbor jetties and political secrets and horrible
brutal transdimensional murders leaving innocent children as orphans,
not withstanding here, wonderful ass world!!!!!!!!!!!! Before I went
to the Public, I stopped at the Good Will Store for a few movie tapes
and three blank VHS tapes that they had in stock. The last time I was
out I put gasoline in the old buggy so that is in for a long time as
I do not go many places. I just crossed over the 85 thousand mile
mark on my odometer, noticing that finally, I now have 85,040 miles
on my 2004 Dodge Neon, for an average annual mileage that is pretty
average these days of such high priced fuel, eighty-five-hundred
miles. Aniwho **-**-****-** before I left the building, I saw Debbie
Moratto, my Resident Manager. She will pull the video of the all day
loud party yesterday, that shows very loud slams at both 1:40 AM and
2:25 AM, on this very morning. I
AM SURE THE STOCK MARKET WILL FLY, AS IT ALWAYS DOES WHEN THE ICPE
TECK IS USED AGAINST ME AND ON ME, SEABOTTOM SIR, AND OTHERS OUT
HERE, SO KNOW ALREADY, A 200 MINUIMUM POINT JUMP ON THE DJIA PRICES,
will be a foregone conclusion on this day. Also this day was very
dense, or said in another way, Professor Kaku my friend, this
simulation was filled in my local fields with unusually high
populogram. This is just shortened for ''population-hologram'. I am
not trying to add millions of new words to the internet, Detective
Curtis, Lenny, and lovely gorgeous LOO!
So
I talked to Debbie about the very late and very illegal noise that
totally freagged up my attempts to go to sleep around one this
mouuuuuuuuuuurning, then went to the bank, where I had to park in a
farther away separate parking area as the bank lot was filled to the
rim brim and not with hot Joe or hot beach pigs from the sixties and
yet in the nineties, nor any Geico scummy creatures and
quintessentially stupid ass freaking television commercials. The
hologram in my local field of this simulation, or our so called
reality and universe in the hyperspace, is very dense and thick, or
an unusual amount of peeps are all over the place. A gorgeous 30 or
early thirtyish year old girl was staring me up and down in the
Publix store while walking to the check out line after finishing
acquiring all the items that I had gone there for. When I parked and
opened my door back at the building so that I could unload what I
bought and take it up to my west side sixth floor apartment, here at
my Public Housing building at 601 Avenue B in Fort Pierce, Florida; a
small loud and low airplane was up above me, close. The skies were
overcast and a slight on and off drizzle were the weather conditions
all over my area during my time out on personal errands. So no
ordinary plane can be stalking me through an overcast. Baxck in
Jersey, this happened with major regularity, and with patternized
precision clockwork if certain things were done by me to seemingly
freaking initiate this sick twisted behavior on the part of the
asshole WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES, Mister Hall and Mister Berrios, olympic
runner and multiligual song translator, huh Resident Manager Nate in
1989 and 1990, and tapes left in Atlantic city that started the
original Golf War, or the actual first military actions known as
Desert Shield, followed later by the same initials of course, Donn'a,
Storm!!!!!!!!!!!! Our military and our secret Cove Agencies in our
government, love to code-name their projects, and it is not done by
any means, in some random or silly helter-skelter meaningless way.
Nothing THEY do is without a very good reason, even hating my poor
pathetic miserable little defenseless guts for decades and decades.
'OOOOOOOOOOOOOO', yes, SSJKK, you say it the very same way at 2 and 3
that you do at 13 and 14, and the copyright office has all the tapes
now, since last July the third, as they had the other one back in
1988 when I sent that for copyright as part of the project called,
Epitome of Harassment, Part 2, misspelled of course. This
is why the US © Office shows the letters [SIC] on both my Epitome of
Harassment projects, sent in 1989 and 1990,
so let me show you here by pasting it in from the Library of Congress
official records, WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! OOOOOH and by the way, 'O'
with the long vowel sound, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
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Well
people, and if Seabottom is stuck at the bottom of the sea, him too,
the ICPE is the biggest nightmare monster that I ever thought I would
have to fight in my lifetime. If you had told me this would happen
tome back when I was in high school with my pal Bob McDowell and the
others, lovely Amy and so on, hater-Raynor, I would have taken my
miserable rotten life, I promise you all this, at the speed of
freaking light, CUBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
good Lord and a quarter, Lenny McKinnon, what a freaking family. You
knew all of this all along, you rotten accuser. Yes, many things are
in that great Holy Bible that are so true and accurate they just jump
up at those like me who have really experienced ''spiritual'' type
shit all their lives, and we know 100% with no shadow of one single
lousy ass doubt, that it is all true and real. Many I suppose who lay
dying right now,scared, would envy my positiveness that all of this
is absolutely real, and that when you stop breathing, it is the most
natural thing, just as natural as when you were and are breathing.
There is no sudden bang like with poor me early this morning while
trying to catch some freaking ZZZZZZZ's in this hell-hole Public
housing drug infested building, old pal, Sheriff Ken Mascara, and
lovely Florida Attorney ?General, Mizz Pam Bondi. AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MIKE MCNULTY!
-
Pam Bondi, Attorney General of Florida
Programs
Units
Florida
Attorney General Pam Bondi
Large Picture
Width: 4080px
Height: 4080px
Stay Connected
Width: 4080px
Height: 4080px
Stay Connected
Florida Toll Free Numbers:
- Fraud Hotline 1-866-966-7226
- Lemon Law 1-800-321-5366
- Fraud Hotline 1-866-966-7226
- Lemon Law 1-800-321-5366
PLEASE
HELP ME, MIZZ BONDI, MY WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES ARE GOING TO KILL
ME, THIS IS NOT A JOKE OR A HOAX, MY SEVEN YEARS OF BLOGS CONTAIN
INDISPUTABLE MIRACLES THAT PROVE MY WORDS STAND TRUE AND HONEST,
MAHM.
THANK
YOU FOR DOING WHATEVER YOU CAN FOR ME, RON WIRTZ AT THE CCP OFFICE
IN NEW JERSEY WASTED YEARS OF MY TIME AND MADE ME A LOT OF EMPTY
PROMISES. MAYBE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HELP ME TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF
ALL OF THIS, MAYBE NOT. I HAVE PEOPLE AGAINST ME THAT ARE NOT
COMPLETELY HUMAN, AND I EVEN HAD EVIDENCE ONCE WHERE A MAN WITH A
REAL ESTATE LICENSE TOLD ME THIS WAS ALL TRUE AND HAPPENING TO ME
BACK IN 1988, A MAN NAMED SCOTT RANSOM OF TODD REALITY BACK IN 1988,
IN NEW JERSEY.
THANK
YOU IN ADVANCE FOR ANYTHING YOU MAY BE ABLE TO FIND OUT AND HELP ME
WITH, I AM NOT THE BAD GUY HERE, THEY ARE, AND HAVE DONE DISPICABLE
AND INHUMAN EVIL THINGS TO ME SINCE THE EIGHTIES. THEY ARE TORTURING
ME, THIS IS WORSE THAN BEING MURDERED, BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN ONLY KILL
YOU ONCE, MIZZ ATTORNEY GENERAL, WHEREAS WITH ME, THEY GO ON PUTTING
ME THROUGH A NEVER ENDING HELLFIRE THAT IS UNSPEAKABLE.
I
GO BY THE BLOG NAME OF MOUNTAINPEN, A.G. BONDI, AND AM ON BLOGGER
DOT COM. MY MUSIC ALSO TELLS MY LIFE STORY, A TINY BIT OF IT IS ON
THE YOUTUBE CHANNEL paulaking2011, AND A LOT MORE OF IT IS
COPYRIGHTED IN THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS UNDER MARK WAYNE MOHR, BORN
12/04/1954. I KNOW YOU WILL DO THE RIGHT THING HERE, MIZZ BONDI.
AGAIN, THANK YOU.
SAFE
JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO
BLOG
CHAPTER SJ-093
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
031011.807.55555555 (MARCH 10, 2011) EVENING
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
SUBTITLE
#3: FOUR DAYS OF FUCKING CHEM-SIEGE:
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
I
guess this mother fucking major ass attack is not gonna fucking
terminate any time soon. This is now 4 STRAIGHT FUCKING DAYS OF
CHEMTRAIL ASSAULT, here and around the SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, HERE IN
SUNNY FLORIDA.
My
voice is fucking totally fucking shot, they ruined all my fucking
plans to sing on a vocal track today. It has been postponed. I am
tempted to sample U-MI, if you do not tell your bad boy there to
leave me alone, after-all, it is your song from SDJK that I'm doing.
I can do much better than back in 1984, this is 27 years later brown
eyes.
My other island
friend was there with her daughter today at my work site, the
Harvest, view them, and all of my readership can easily view me as
well, at www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/
and I always enjoy talking to the 'Huntingtonians', as they all call
themselves, after-all, my 7th Grand-pappy owned the
entire northern SCNY, the other Sarah Callio, huh
McGuire????????????
I
am hungry and tired as fucking hell, and will now eat and crash,
fuck the world. Diana let me the fuck down, lightning capitol
Florida, my fucking ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who started this fucked
up lie-rumor aniwho, YO???????????????????? I now will END
TRANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
just where is all of this leading to, you may be wondering and
scratching out halfm your hair by now. Well soerry about the
balding, Belding and Saved by the Bell crew; but I cannot give you
answers that I myself do not have. I saw more weird peeps that
followed me into GOODWILL today, as a result of so much recent stuff
that took place there. I know one thing. My entire family is one
totally screwed up bunch, along with all of their friends. There are
no exceptions. Still, I will always love both of my wild and
wonderful daughters, here, there, and everywhere. I am a fifth
dimensional man, the only one perhaps living amongst all of you. I
see things differently, Red Lobster, as you do food. Happy fishing.
COPYRIGHT
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983 ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE
THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
Yes
people, this will be a very interesting next few days. Why, you ask
me. Because any day of the year and every year of the STM, I could
make that true statement, folks. Every and any day I can say to you
all, this will be a very interesting next few days. I can repeat it
over and over again and it stays every bit as true as the first time
that I dared to utter it. this will be a very interesting next few
days. this will be a very interesting next few days. this will be a
very interesting next few days. this will be a very interesting next
few days. this will be a very interesting next few days. this will
be a very interesting next few days. this will be a very interesting
next few days. this will be a very interesting next few days. this
will be a very interesting next few days. this will be a very
interesting next few days.
Well
wabbit, time for me to enjoy some relaxation and some brunch. It is
just past two this afternnon, and is coolish next to what the
weekend was by this time, holding 74 with high humidity that makes
it feel nearly 80 or so says WEATHER-BUG. Ask me, and I'll so say,
IT FEELS 130 FREAKING DEGREES, PEOPLE. Have a very nice day folks,
'I'll be bahk', Sir Governor distant distant
cuzz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
