TAPE 25,764

Too many things are existing by pure weird happenstance for this not to be Sara Karge's simulation, Professor Kaku sir. I do not expect you or anybody to know my life move by move, as if you could properly analyze this as a huge chess game; and then try and either prove or disprove me and all my claims and stories on a scientific level. It is extremely unfortunate that this cannot be done, at least not yet, not until a rime arrives when all things can be scanned and examined, and later still, toyed with and messed with in a sort of endless overdubbing process of intermingled interacted life on life, as though we back here in less enlightened times were merely blobs inside a Packman videogame from 1980, and wow, I did say, Lois Foca 1980. The one and only 1980. Oh well, all this and 3 and a half bucks will get any of us a cut of Joe tomorrow and maybe a stale bagel at the local donut shop.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE EQUIVALENT NUMBER 25,764

The simple facts of all things is that while we live and exist as hyperspace entities or as human beings on planet Earth inside of a body, in many parallel universes; we cannot be sure of anything other than doubting is a prudent thing to do. This is why you all doubt me and no one believes a word I say, and you all read me out of pure amusement and fun, one day you read me, another day you ride on some amusement park ride, yet still another day, you spend fucking your spouse, and so forth. Nothing in this life is certain, other than the very sentence you just read. This seems a cruel deal that we all are in, and thus, is it really such a blasphemous thing to say, that this god of ours, if it exists in the first place; is quite cruel and even very evil? Well, these are things only each of you can determine in your own mind, and despising me for having the guts to speak so openly, has nothing whatsoever to do with the discussion about reality on this blog so far, still I know my blogs and my words incite hatred of me more than anything else with the majority of viewers, now ask me if I could care less? I do not say this because I am mean or evil or uncaring. I say this because it needs to be said, and I am genuinely sorry if anyone's feeling are ever in any way hurt by anything this poor old moron says. That is never my intent. Still, it was my intent to grow up, get rich, and have a chauffeur so I never would have to derive, as I hate driving. Didn't happen, not gonna' happen. Intent does not become reality, no matter how many so-called phony self-help writings and teachings say otherwise, scattered all throughout the global sociological order.

Gawky Gaukauk and I had a little talk a few days ago as well as a week or so ago, and I have been meaning to get around to writing it all down for the record on this journal tape. In my humble opinion, give or take a tolerance of around five percent or so; it these words were all spoken on tape since I stopped my actual cassette life journal and began my blogs in January 2006, actually, I stopped the journal in 1997 and then it became Morianity New Testament, same thing with a new title, and then I estimated that this would be around tape number 25,700 back when this began some ago at that number. Anyway folks, and dear diary (LIFE JOURNAL), 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975; let me get down to cases here with a few things asked and answered, to quote a lot of court room drama, both fictional as well as in the real world, or Sara J. Karge's simulation of a real world from her true upline reality, Professor Kaku, my pal.

I have seen more paranormal supernatural stuff, than any gang of folks put together that I am aware of. Is this because of mere coincidence, because I look for it, or because IT LOOKS FOR ME? Door number 3 is the best choice folks for one big reason. If this entire simulation is about me, how would the other two doors be anywhere near as relevant, YO? Hay, just asking a question aloud, peeps. I am open to your comments but never get any at Blogger. Whenever I try to mess with any comments at Wordpress, a lot of hacking ensues. I am only human, Bruce Pennock, not perfect sir, gash darn it, you dog lickers from Aquarius Records, and mighty WFMU-RADIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MARCH 31, 2014,

MONDAY MORNING AT 3:31,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 52 DEGREES FNHT.

Gawky Gaukauk my Astral-Plane Kitty, why was Macrovision-Copyguard put onto a number of my channels on my Comcast Cable Television system on 28 March of this year out of the freaking blue?

MEOW-MEOW,PCN-716, MATCHBOOK LIST ITEMS:

IN COURT, YOUTUBE, THAT THING MAKES MONSTER-ASS RECORDINGS, KINGDOM HARVEST OUTREACH CENTER, CHICAGO, SWIMMER, MISS LEE, MARIENA CARLITTIA, CONTENT, THAT BOY, RAINBOW..........

Gawky Gaukauk, my Astral-Plane Kitty, who and what caused the month of freaking March of 2014 to be so monster ass horrible for me after I had a nice small back-off break from my hell, just before this time?

MEOW-MEOW,PCN-583, MATCHBOOK LIST ITEMS:

CHINA, MERRY HOLLISTER, SHORT, CHAIN, ENEMY, WILL MARRY A TALL YOUNG GIRL, NOISY NEIGHBORS, MARK MOHR'S SECRET DAUGHTER, MASON..........

The name-number, or total alphabetized value of letters making up the words, “STAR TREK” is 112. I resided at two locations with that street address number. First, in 1979 and into 1980, before moving into the Robin Hill Apartments of Voorhees Township in New Jersey, I was at 112 East Fifth Avenue in Mantua, New Jersey, and later in 1996 into 1998 before leaving for Guthrie Short's Blue Anchor mansion on 5 acres of land, I was at the Somerdale, New Jersey DEATH-HOUSE as I call it now, at 112 Harvard Avenue. Powerful coincidence, Mister Rotten Berry, Blucran and all other berries of transdimensional hyperspace, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Wanna' know some other quite frikkin' fascinating GAWNUM FACTS, folks? EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY is PCN-275, and MICROSOFT CORPORATION is PCN-211. PCN-275 and PCN-211 ARE NOT COMPATIBLE. There is no getting around it folks, they are not in freaking bed with each other, no bloody shoes, no mace cans, no Judge Tombay or other Jersey Political CROOKS, and most definitely, NO BRIDGES, no yellow telephones belonging to SARA, SARAH, or Adolf and the cross-over-droids!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Want yet a little bit more, good peeps? No prob Bob, we don't sweat the small Naval stuff in here, Daddio and Company and Foolio. Yes PEE, I know you did everything you could and will make more attempts to CO to here, my wonderful HSD!!!!!!!!!!!! No way do I believe the major storm here and the quaking in KALI were mere random isolated events. Keep trying to get here, lovely one. Yes, I'll give you all one more GAWNUM thing to kick the can around with, Mister Rodney Sterling sir. Hay at least there are no dangerous fields, or things to beware of, right old old pal, Plato???????

Yes, here is the final thing I wish to tell you regarding GAWNUM STUDY. Now that we all know that Microsoft is not a bedfellow of the ESS, we can move on. Remember, I don't try and avoid reality, I need it, I worship it, whatever IT REALLY IS, or HOW BAD AND HORRIBLE IT REALLY MAU BE!!!!!!!!!!!!! COOLEY HALL LOBBY DREAM SINGER is PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER (PCN) 871, same as my PCN, and PCN-871 is a strong self compatible number. Remember, you add up the two numbers to be compared, an dat least one digit in the sum of the two, must exist in each of the two being compared. Compatibility does not mean good, it can be good or bad, but when a match up is there, the numbers and anything that makes them up alphabetically, is indeed cosmically compatible, good or bad. If not, then it is not, maybe this is why the ancients invented the term, good, bad, or indifferent. Who can ever know a dam thing for freaking sure, good folks? As for the GAWNUM, if a large black cat came to you in a dream and taught you a cool system and you woke up and tried it, and also showed you the lottery number for the next day in Pennsylvania, and was correct, the exact words of the lady who was with this great cat when I ''was dreaming it was 1980'', were, it always comes out either straight or boxed in the Pennsylvania lottery. I was so dumb back in 1980. I thought you could buy the tickets in New Jersey, and wasted 8 dollars on fifty cent tickets, as I also did not box the number that the cat was meowing to me, DIE, DIE, DIE, the lady said this means 4-9-5, straight or boxed. Go ahead, read the old blogs, it is talked about in 2006 and 2007, long before Landowner O and my cuzz and my kid all thought all this was so funny, these must be your friends as well, Michael McNulty, you all deserve each other, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I met David Roth nearly 30 years ago, it seems like days, not nearly a third of a mother fucking century. He knew I could move heavy diner rotisserie motors in reverse, and grab a rope and pull a life-raft with him inside of it, against a strong Barnegat Bay current without swimming a single stroke. We met as security guards quite some time back, it was in November of 1985, and it was in Woodbury Heights, and was called the Caldor Number 113 Store. This retail store was owned by a couple by the name of Dorothy and Coral. This is where you get the combined word they came up with, CALDOR. It went out of business within a decade give or take from the time we met there. He worked directly for them. I was in house security, with a private security company. Shortly before we met, I had hooked up some electrical step-down transformers to wires that connected my bed frame made of metal with steel springs. The mattress was thin, and when I would go to sleep, I would adjust a switch until I could feel electrical current just a small bit. This helped me to leave my body when I fell asleep and reach what I then referred to the Astral-Plane as, ''Lightning's world''. This is where she showed me her Code-Cabin, and many other things such as how she loved to play the game of Tennis, and how her Olympian family brought many games one by one, to the mortal world, unbeknown to human beings. It was where she originally always took me, to Olympia Proper, never telling me that her parents allowed her to move in with me at a far away place in the great Province Olympia, called Ricktown. There, a huge house where we both live in eternity together, is called Ricktown Manor. My old Morianity-Foundation website discussed a lot of things about all of this, and also contained music, photos, slide shows, text, and told many secrets. Folks, I do not keep secrets, and I do not like secrets. I have very good reasons for not liking secrets. Monster-ass good reasons for not liking secrets. But still, you were right all along back in 1969, old buddy, Ziggy Malyeska; we don't know anything. None of us can ever know for sure, ANYTHING. Still, I do know that running certain currents in just the right way, can do incredible things. It has given me the ability to control motion and gravitation. That is all I am willing to say, despite being an unbelieved freaking crackpot, Jane Sleazeball. You missed me, girl, so go and slap that monster!

Don't even think about parking here, distant Cousin, or I'll get your cute grand daughter to pull your rug off your scowling head. Keep right on reading the BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, and go right on hating my guts everybody, if that makes you feel like a bunch of big heroes. WOW, look at you all. No parking, keep right on going with the BOM, good folks. As Saint Paul said some time back to his fellow church members scattered throughout a relatively small area of this planet; Goddess be with you, and I love you, even if you all hate me, YO! Sleep tight, Sarah Kessel Lookalikes, and anyone else that needs to sleep nice and tight. Just hope and pray the light goes on for you, as I now know, I am still endlessly reaching for the light on my desk, and it is not ever going to go on. Ain't this a cool situation, Foolio Cooley Christmas Tree Callio Kennedy? WOW, BLOOD ON MY SHOE is like Gawky's great lottery number, and boxed, it did come out, lovely MO, and not so lovely WOMO. Gee whiz © Office, CAN IT BE SO in 1988 or any year for that matter? Maybe Frederick Hinger at the New York Metropolitan has the answer, if he hasn't yet kicked the bucket, holy skunk sweat curly girls and bean haters, where are you when I need you Kenny Rogers and Superman, YO? Tellem, Benny-16!

GO FUCK A RUPTURED TURTLE'S ASS JANE SLEAZEWEED DISEASE!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ROTTEN MISERABLE BITCH WITCH. ALLOW ME TO COMPENSATWE WITH FIVE NUMBERS, FOLKS, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Empty black be all you see. A drifting soul that's never free. A nightmare through eternity. Curse on you Jane! What you and hubby Turner did to me in 1993 is beyond freaking ass unforgivable, and it sure as hell is not Nat King Cole ''UNFORGETABLE'', YO YO YO YO!

This is now a BRAND NEW BLOG, and yes lovely Melanie Safka, it can quite easily double as a brand new key. But it will not post now. It will post later on in STM as it falls into the conscious illusion of my viewers. WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

A dim wit nerd half brain alive, Optimist-Twinbay; can see that this is when the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES will always POUR IT ON WITH THE FREAKING ASS ICPE. Every time they need to hurt me, and get their way, with an endlessly climbing DOW JONES; my pal Mister J. Seabottom, sir!!!!!!!!!!! You said you wanted to know a lot about ICPE. What else do you wish me to tell you? I cannot tell it all; so if you can try being a little specific; I will try and explain this better to you. WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! OH SHEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Spatula that one into the pan, lovely Miss Patton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Warren, Boo, Darius, and David; Jeese-Louise, what a MOTLEY CREW!!!!!!!

Luckily for freaking me, things are not a lot worse because finding out this incredible shit over the past ten days and slowly piecing it all together would normally cause me a lot more than nightmares of owing 42 grand and store employees crashing into and wrecking my vehicle, and shit here at home with noisy nabes. I actually have got off lucky, as this has placed me light frikkin' years ahead in my struggles to deal with TAWF-MILI-2-FORCE. YEAH, you thought you did, dumb ass Mark Wayne Mohr. Don't ever let these pricks lull you into a false sense of freaking ass security, buddy-boy-Archie! There is no way to ever know what front these diseased monsters will come at me from, healthy or made ill by them, at will and without mercy, and even without my Chemtrailitis making me cough my lungs out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You godda' really love these bastards, SHEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW: