The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": TAPE 25,826

Strange and spurious shit is going on, or is it? Would it not be stranger in real truth, to have totally normal and average type of conditions surrounding my proximity? Think about this small bit of philosophy.

MAY 22, 2014,

THURSDAY NIGHT AT 10:56,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 74 DEGREES FNHT.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE EQVT. #25,826

Every once and a while, whether on a blog web site or on my office document file program, I get, yes, I get your light fucking bulb hack Mister Microsucks, but I also get quick extremely bright white flashes on the entire computer monitor. This has been ongoing for about a year, maybe a tad bit longer. My memories are not perfect, since the nineties, after my interactions with the TAWF-70 of Atlantic City, New Jersey in my adult life, not the original time done in parallel universes by them, while I physically resided in this universe in Ventnor, New Jersey at child molester Thomas J. Reale's home, on Cornwall Avenue, that now is gone and is part of the ATLANTIC CITY MUNICIPAL UTILITIES AUTHORITY, so give me a break Margie Kitkat Cut of 1985. Still, I have very good recall to many things, Arnie Kennedy. Yes people, the tree of folks that has been somewhat shared for public view and record, on my 100+ blogging project that is AKA Morianity; is centered not at the Kennedy's, but at the CALLIO'S. It was Elder Hair of the great Mormon Church of Utah, who personally, along with his very wonderful wife; visited with me in New Jersey upon several occasions, and began this wild project, to help me to come to understand, the beginning roots of what may be happening to me, after my so-called teen-days-pal, Bob Andrews; let me down, after visiting his office a couple years before, and his assistants; Steve Petersen and Phil Petru; would not help me in any way with this nightmare catastrophe, that I eventually just came to realize, was indeed what was behind my life situation, of endless unspeakable hellish misery and torment.

A week ago give or take a day or two, I was awakened to another civil rights violating LOUD TELEPHONE SQUEALING. I do plan to sue the phone company for hearing damage, and they c an laugh and think I cannot do this, and when they see that I can, then they will know. I may not win, but I plan to represent myself, and make a huge stink, if nothing else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fire alarms are a daily occurrence again, oh well, that's life in Public Housing. I cannot afford to live elsewhere, or I would. So that as they say, Miss Whalehicks, is that!

There seems to be a glitch in the stock market charts, unless I am supposed to believe that Wednesday and Thursday were total 9:30-4:00 carbon copy minutes of daily market trading activity. The charts appear to me to be totally identical. Oh well, distant Cuzz Donnie, to quote your words to Mister Winn who sees a lot better than I do, another big ass publicity stunt I suppose; “Like I give a shit”.

With or without any help from my extremely talented daughter of mystery; I will reiterate my statement that never goes fucking out of style, kind folks, “HOLIDAYS FOR ME ARE NOTHING BUT MOTHER FUCKING HELLISH-DAYS!” Indeed, and quite unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen; My life has reverted mother fucking back to the nightmare it was, in 1986, when all this mother fucking 'REAL-GOOD-GIRL' fucking shit all started; on August 15, 1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Well Dan Mackey; you thought Melanie Safka's great 1971 tune was trivial to quote your comment about it that day at Cherry Hill McDonald's on route 70, late in 1972, a year after this song had become a hit recording. Bob McDowell and I always liked it, of course we were boys in the heat of hormones, and this was a lovely mid twentyish woman, and maybe that played some part, who knows. STILL, LENNY BRISCOE; while you were walking a PHASE-4 beat in Manhattan as a young Police Officer, and Frank Callio was also riding around in his Atlantic city Squad Car, on his police duties; a lot more was going on out beyond the little cubes that vanish after Riker or Picard or Mister Data or anyone of them says, “END-PROGRAM” to their Starship Computer system!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a lot more is and was, and still yet to come, lays beyond those great and powerful OZ-CURTAINS, I promise you all this, ladies and gentlemen. Not that much ahead in time, maybe 8 years give or take a couple of weeks, was me up in the fuckiGN future; working in a sound studio lab, in Camden, New Jersey; called RPL, on State Street, and Pierce Avenue. Every night for about a month, I had with regularity, started up my 1978 Chevy Nova car, and turned on the heater, while my night boss, Mister Donald Cialoni, opened up the front gate after removing the large secure padlock first. This set up a pattern that three of my female coworkers knew fully well about, unless they were deaf, dumb, and blind, Sherry Lee Pote, and Nicholas Cannon. All these years, I knew they had set me up and wanted friends of theirs to see what mysterious thing was in my car, since I seemed to be playing tapes at my work station, of Donna summer the great disco diva, back in 1968 when she was a high school girl. Only Mike the printer knew that I had this and kept quiet about it. He wanted to make his job easier one day, as it was his job to once per month, remove overage files up in the attic of the place, boxes and boxes of recordings that were more than 12.5 months old, and hand trucking them to the trash area outside that also was still inside a gated area but away from the parking lot of the studio. I had recently told him that I had no vinyl records whatsoever, as I'd given them all away to a resident manager of an apartment system I was living at a few years back, Mister Mike Gutherman; and now I had put together this very fantastic stereo system along with many other electronic gadgets found in the woods while living at the previous address, a home nearby my new apartment, in Mantua, New Jersey. I told him I had recently bought a really cool turntable with a strobelight speed accuracy system, and varispeed control, and here I am with no records. So a few nights later on my lunch-break, he approached me and asked if I wanted to take the four boxes upstairs of overage, they are all vinyl records, of many things from 12 or more years back, and could be anything in the world, and probably not worth listening to, still, I jumped at this chance and lugged those heavy boxes into my car front seat. Now I will not lie and exaggerate, even though I could to make this story prove my point that something weird and fantastic was all going on even back then, but I do not do things like this. Unfortunately fo rme, the time order is in reverse. These girls saw me doing this all right, but it was after what they did to me, not that I could prove they did, but I know it so powerfully deep down in my spirit, that if I could be proven wrong, I would eat dogshit for a month! Yes, MY, disgusting it is, but I would! However, this was not the only time that I placed something in my automobile during working hours. Their was another incident but it had nothing to do with music or records or anything remotely connected with the business in any way. I do not need to tell what happened, just that these three girls did in fact, before the car was stolen on the night before the1979 Christmas Holiday Break observe another couple of times of a similar situation. My boss Donald, had asked me to take something personally belonging to him; and put it into my car, for three or four nights one entire week. He did not think it appropriate to be inside the job work place, yet his car was not secure and he had an appointment to have a window repaired that some punk kid in his neighborhood, had busted out as a random prank, the week before, and I was glad to help him out. Also, believe it or not, his trunk had been broken for some time, the lock just broke for some weird reason, and he had not had time to get that repaired as well, so he could not place this object anywhere safely. He had his reasons for what he did, and nothing was illegal or sinister, but I am still not telling you what it was because it was a favor between two men in confidence that had nothing to do with our jobs, the work place RPL Studios, or me as his employee, nor him as my boss. As I type this, and it is major and you have not heard anything yet, I promise you, I am getting horrific cramps and must stop for an emergency toilet run, and there is more to tell as well, and I will when I return, having to do with strange sounds in my building, in the stairwell, something I never ever have heard late at night in my three plus years of living here now. Well © Office, I am back and am in ''REGULAR TIME'', SO HERE WE GO AGAIN; am I right eighties-examiners? History repeats itself, as the old saying goes; you know, SOSO! I'm going to stand mute here for a while, Mister Pruce Judge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I never ever forget anything, unless I am struck with an ETTOS attack on Tennessee Avenue, or inside my own apartment at the HIGHVIEW CHEERS.

Now I need to do filler lines, so that whore shit water witch bitch Jane, cannot hurt me with her rotten clock ones attack, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

HA-HA-HA YOU EVIL DEMONIC SHIT, FROM 1993!!!!! One thing in this rotten world that you will never be, is a 'REAL-GOOD-GIRL', JANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now back in earlier blogs, I told how my car was stolen one night right before the Christmas Holiday Break of 1970, shortly to issue in the eighties to be a rotten destroying decade for me, and it did not let me down, and I am a real fuckiGN ass believer in what I call, MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE TECHNOLOGY, and that is what this is. If something starts out shitty and keeps going shitty, it continues on being fucking shitty. So go and choke on that one; Lake Okay-2-Choke-Me, Florida!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, Mister freaking MACY!

MACKEY-NEWKEY-STACEY, there is a lot of magic in both the full 'KEY' sound, as well as the EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, huh Mashell?????? I thought all this dam ass time that Sherry Lee Pote stole a magic tablet out of my Saturn that I never knew was in there. Now I know better. She knew that Donald had given it to me when he admitted to me that he was sent back to me to help me. Then the very next night at RPL he had no memory whatsoever that he had said this to me in November of 1979, and some bad girls indeed were a part of this, Mashell Daniels, Gerry Patterson, and Sue whateverhernameis. I never ever knew the last fuckiGN name of lovely SUE, make a song out of this if you dare, Lisa-Marie! In the great marvelous untrumpable MAHOUSE, at 65 Middle Road, in Berryville, New Jersey, that is AKA Hammonton; it became a family tradition to call each other the nickname EEEEEEEE sound ending, that is to say, I was Markey, then there was Annie, Dawny, and CHICKY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Soto any Donald's, I now ask of thee, should I CARE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?????????????????

If there is a black hat hacker way to change dates so that it looks like you blogged something before you did at official blogger web-sites, I don't know how it is done, and to this I now legally attest to, officially swear to, under a FULL OATH OF PENALTY FOR PERJURY. I did the EEEEEEEEEEE sound on my Magnesonic, long before my wonderful daughter's 2009 movie, Mashell Daniels, but from here to the Mack Truck company where you came straight from and over to the studio; I am sorry we disagreed so vehemently on interracial couples 'IRC', causing you to make your famous statement to me, that entitles me to my opinions, in your great presence; oh mighty one. Still, you're the one who told me, that your EX was a black Hollywood producer. I am just beginning to see the odds in a lot of new stuff here, that is all I am doing. No more, and certainly folks, and light-bulbs too; no less. Don't want you to fuckiGN feel all left out and lonely, there, Microsucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now taking things into this new light, we must begin to ''entertain'' some new thought patterns here, YO. After-all, it really does seem to be in the family here with all of this, Archie bunker, and why not, the fuckiGN show is about a wild man with lots of non PC racial opinions, and from QUEENS, New York, no less, I mean come on Margie Leo, cut me a big fat ass break, willya, YO!

Gerry, Sue, and Mashell, to put it politely, from a quarter century back, were quite a Motley-Crew, right down to those initials. The female version perhaps of Moe, Larry, and Curly, as long that is, that the laugh remains only and always, ON ME!!!!

No, I did not misspell Astral-Plank world, the plank world is the world of the Astral-Plane, still, look at the final letter of both ''quantabilities'' to coin a new Poor Richards Almanac word, in this really new non sun-room century; where I appear to be trapped in a nightmare repeating time loop; that my ex-bizz-part, thinks is a joke; god bless his wonderful old heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And the joke is on him if he doubts my sincerity when I tell him that I really do hope he makes it straight to the top, and wins and Academy Award for a dozen of his fantastic tear jerking country tunes. I personally hate country music, and yet his songs make me fuckiGN cry like a love sick school girl without any sixties Space-Time-Mind CHURCH CHORDS!!!!!!!!!

WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW!!!!!!!

No, I know how real EXPLORATRONICS ALL IS. I had reasons for never telling about what Don Cialoni told me one night in middle November of 1979 and then the very next night totally looking at me straight face peculiar, saying that he never told me that, only HE DID, Houston curly girls, he really did, so fall off of that horse Kenny Rogers and Superman Reeves, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA!

I also wonder, and confess to wondering for some time now; what the odds are of meeting both a Cialoni and a Cicone, all inside of a ten year stretch of time, while I was a younger person, in STM-ILLUSION??????????????

I fell into a powerful weird sleep yesterday some time after half past four or so in the morning. I remember being in a very powerful weird province on the ASTRAL or PLANK WORLD, without Diana being there. I remember suddenly hearing her say to me somehow that she would come to me as Sarah-Stacey, and then I was back in that recurring interaction where the loud-speaker system was announcing the danger-third at that wild lake, wherever it really is, or isn't. The next thing I knew it was 1983 and I was in the mortal world and as I was here in this very universe, living in Atco, in New Jersey back then. By the way, I fucked up and said I was visiting my aunt and my Uncle in late 1984 in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. It was late 1983, the Christmas Holiday season, or should I add in here with permission of course; HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!

So here I am in 1983 and living back at Jerry Pliner's home on Norris Avenue, #134. No Chucks, no kicks, no sneakers or gangs Anita Van Buren, for you to buy; no 25's, no ISIS; well, that last one may be off the money a bit, as SHE was in the interaction; but in quick flashy fragmented parts. Good Lord and 25 cents, William Lenny McKinnon, and deals behind my knifed Florida Nightmares back, with Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb; and maybe even ETTOS HACKED Gibbsboro times, with my mom, on our way to train stations, in the Jane Fonda Baseball fuckiGN ass era, of real major hell. Remember the story anyone? She could not get a simple thing, no more complicated than me asking if she liked rye bread better than pumpernickel. Not at 6 in the morning, not at home in Gibbsboro. But a little voice told me to ask her the very same thing one more time, just as we were pulling up to the mother fucking train station in Lindenwold, New Jersey; less than three miles, and 60 minutes away, in Einstein's SPACE-TIME, and she acted like it was 1-2-3, and got it immediately. I don't even recall now what it was. That is how horrendous this fuckiGN shit was that morning, people, even I can remember how to occasionally forget things that are simply just too god dam unpleasant to keep in conscious mother fuckiGN recall!!!!!!!!!

Yes, ASTRAL PLANK----ASTRAL PLANE. In both English spellings of this word, the first eighty percent of the letters, make up the word, PLAN. The fifth and final letter that could substitute in and be correct either way, as Plank Subatomic realms, are one and the same with the ASTRAL; we then take that last letter of either 'K' or 'E', and WOWSER DOCK HOWSER, nothing's wrong with me, no problem here or in 1984. We get the message that is not able to be missed if you want to try and do so. KE, or pronounced KEY. May I once more, Uncle 175 Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York, HEINZ GOZZWALD; great and powerful late sir; “HERE WE GO AGAIN”. Thank you for permitting me, and you too Mister Trumped Macy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So there I was back in fucking Atco, New Jersey, and it was 1983, and I had the PBS station on, and the show with those two gorgeous teen girls had just come on, “The Electric Company”. In it the lovely black girl who had been arm wrestling some white younger kid, received a telephone call that was urgent, so she stopped playing around, and instantly pinned the kid, as she could have done all along. A knock on the door came, and I remembered this day perfectly, and there was no knock at the door. Even the mighty fictional book I wrote in 1994 called, “The Permission Barrier”, had exaggerations in it, such as the military officers visiting me and crossing their legs simultaneously as they did in that great movie remade in 1979 sometime with John Deer-Hunter Savage, called “HAIR”, by Ragni and Rado. It was not the military that came to the door, but my daughter, at the age she would have been, just turning thirteen a week or so ago. She told me all sorts of things, and I was not able to place her. She even told me why I was not contacting Herby Letts and George Belton Bell-tone, and Everett Simpson. I did not understand it all, and just remembered the laser sghow in Herby's basement that night, and being scared and not wanting to see them, but she told me that this was a weapon that when it was pointed at me, these three had total control over me in any future time just by shining a flashlight into my face that had a face on it with three plastic colors, red and green and blue. She told me many things and stayed there with me for about two hours, as the phone rang, or the Privecode went off, and it was my mother at work at her Philadelphia Shipping company, Lavino in those times before it was later sold to the Inchcape British peeps that own it now, unless that also changed again. She told me the reason the IMMC was named what it was, was a code for the future, and told me to pronounce it a few times in its abbreviated letters. This meant nothing to me then, but as soon as I popped out of this wild experience around early afternoon with a huge bang that I don't think was an outside external sound; I realized a lot. Then I also remembered that she told me that Nick would be taking me soon to several other places, both ahead as well as behind me in the STM. She said it is imperative that things happen in certain ways and that I must not question or doubt so much stuff once I see how true it all is, no matter who else doubts it or doubts me, even including herself in the future. Then she reminded me of my car being stolen and then found by Gerry and Sue in that abandoned area not that far from the RPL Studio. She told me that the tablet is really a transdimensional transporter that I used to call back in 1979, a 74-World Penetrater, and she was right, I did, in many so-called metaphysical telephone conversations, that I am still publicly teased about to this day, thanks to fuckiGN Jason Forrest and that stinking rotten WFMU RADIO STATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is a lot more to tell, and I'll tell it as I begin remembering more of the experience, there is really lots more, good people, I promise you, but the conscious mind does a great job to block out a lot of fucking shit.

HOLIDAYS, a topic these blogs that began in 2006 have spoken about countless fucking times; are always a time where I get fucking cunt lapping pummeled and reamed by these diseased jerk off prick ass shits. Why? Well I can speculate here and there, but prove any of my theories in court, shit, I can totally forget about that at light speed squared. But now, I have come to understand quite a bit more, even down to why holidays mean so much to the MILITUFORCE that picks on me all the time. Audrey Heller called me a sick genius in a parallel universe back late in the previous century. This was one of my mother's friends, from the old late sixties and into the seventies, club she joined in Jersey, called the SPS, or the Singles Parents Society. This is where she met Sidney crown who knew Brad Messenger's mom, Grace, and how Brad became my friend early in 1969, and how I spoke once to the great comedian of yesteryear who had fallen madly in love with brad';s mom, a rare event, but rare events happen, and this proves it; you know, a great star falling for just a nobody. Well, she was not a nobody in the looks department, a total number 10, face and figure, and you all know about the ICE TEA STORY if you ever read and archived any of my beginning and older blogs. I do not hide stuff, there are no closets or secrets in MORIANITY, and there never will be, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes this world is complicated, just in 3 dimensions and one universe, but extend it out to five dimensions that contain uncounted virtually unlimited parallel universes, each one with time and three spatial dimensions; and unlimited complexities suddenly enter into all of the knife fights, those in Jersey before meeting mister Limetruck Stalker the following day in this universe who threatened the lives of myself and my mother at the Washington township Turnersville, New Jersey, USA, Pathmark shopping Center, and the one to come yet, here in nightmares-Flowerflash-Florida, Joseph Berrios-89!!!!!!!!!! I won't do a lot of crying that I have been banned from your family, Resident Manager Nate of Echelon towers of Voorhees Nonlark, New Jersey, or from the ex Avalon and now BJ Entertainment, of Port Saint Lucie. I totally fucking get it, Mister Traitor Bonjovi, YO!!!!

Want something even 'more familiar sounding' TBJ, sir; well: Why these game playing T3E pick on me all the time, and triple fucking cunt time on HOLIDAYS, I do now know; and there is really no big-ass need, to take a good educated guess, people. These pricks in the ESS are playing a huge game, that distracts them from something, that you think in your total ass ignorance, would be so mother fucking beautiful, and you already have it, and don't know it 100% the way that I do. What is this you ask me? Total absolute mother fucking IMMORTALITY WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

YO YO YO YO YO YO YO; I don't have the magic answers to it all, and never have claimed to. Nowhere in all of my Morianity will you find any of that shit. Not even with or without any 1983 copyrighted musical projects!!!!

CROSS OVER TO THIS REALITY, PEE!!!!!!!

Well I really love the greatest law show in all entertainment world history; but that does not protect the Phase-4 being of little Paula Weston, who was told by her new shrinkologist/therapist, to follow Mommy-dearest's lead; and to go ahead and DIE, DIE, DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Am I right Detective Stabler and Detective Briscoe????????????????

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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STAY WITH ME MIZZ AG!

THANK YOU FOR ANYTHING YOU CAN DO.

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

Jupiter, Florida, welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

ALONG WITH THE GREAT WEATHER BUG APP, WEEEE!

HEEDA-WEDA 4UANALL UDA FOLKS:

COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!

Weather Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida TV.

Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

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Not one thing in the following paragraph remains mysterious when you just remember EXPLORATRONICS, GOOD PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!

'BUT', whatever you or I ever do; SARAH KRASSLE knows every single thing about it. Count on THAT folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KABOOM, Mister Clancy

ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH, PROGRAMMING OVERRIDER, SIR!

So where is this all leading to I'm sure you are wondering? Well, you stay here with MORIANITY, and we will both be finding all of this out in vivid detail and in living National Broadcasting Company color, even back in th elate sixties, and right through to this present illusion of STM. I enjoyed a nice quick private talk with my resident manager Debbie Morotto, again last Monday, and she gave me the old boys. Or in her case, (girls) wink and nod, as to why the screen doors were not removed, and of course this is why I hear so much noise many times all night long when ESS GUESTRATONS are all around me playing their endless ISISCYLLA games. There really is no fighting it. They are GOD, and I am dogshit, and if you get the great 2008 music project of Mariah Carey, you will hear the codes about all of this and more, all through it, but you do have to listen carefully, and even Boo keeps agreeing and saying to listen up to her, YO. Sorry I didn't bail you out, BOO, BRO, back in 10. Oh well, you survived, ass did I.

Put the twin CD disc into your PC folks, at, well I was going to say your own risk, but she'll kick my ass if I don't shut up, YO!

No Darius; I was not Googling that, it just popped up, I swear to my desire to reach mother fuckiGN Nirvana of the Never-Hacklands; WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

The ESS is powerful and something connected to all of it had to be covered up. One of these travelers had obviously somehow managed to bring back to 1970 physically, what now in 2014 and from the past few years, is called, a ''TABLET''. With all of this going on, you would think as RMCTX does, that putting a lot of miles between me and where I grew up might lessen things. Well, maybe you've had time to digest some more of this blog, and re-think your idea, but if you disagree, why not drop me a freaking e-mail at my address, or call me at my listed Fort Pierce, Florida, telephone number, YO!

Why these assaults come on me out of the blue is something I will never ever know, and I have diligently attempted to get to the mother fucking bottom of this shit eating fucking hell for 30 years now almost, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KEEPING 'MY BIG ASS STUPID MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH SHUT', is some part of this and I know that much, but even if I say nothing, do nothing, etcetera, when these fucking cunt lapping WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES WANT TO ATTACK ME, THEY DO. JUST NOW THEY MADE THIS FUCKING CUNT COMPUTER ACT WEIRD AND ARE DOING IT RIGHT NOW, BOB MCDOWELL; CHAIRMAN OF THE FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION!!!!!!!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO AND YOU KNOW WHEN TO DO IT, RIGHT MIZZ BRENDA 'WAITAMINUTEMOHR' MOORE?????

Oh the great AT&T knows how real my life all is, AND WAS!!!

Brindammor the Hockey Player, for the ''Philly-57-FLYERS''; give me a break, Miss Blake, at the great 1983 American Telephone & Telegraph company, known by most as the “GREAT AND POWERFUL” AT&T!

People, my life is a hell that is not like anyone else's on this mother fucking planet, and we all know who is causing this, the MILITUFORCE, and that this is made up of powerful and game playing TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The ESS is powerful and something connected to all of it had to be covered up. One of these travelers had obviously somehow managed to bring back to 1970 physically, what now in 2014 and from the past few years, is called, a ''TABLET''. Only this tablet was very advanced, containing the PEEF, or the PEE FEATURE. Don't mother fucking die on me, lovely Sherry-Lee Pote and Petee Pote, and Mister Phony Collingswood Krassle. Dude, you are one sick mother fucker, and then they say I need a fucking couch. Well, I need an update. That I will admit to, folks. Sherry Lee Pote could have cared less about selling me that Plymouth Breeze Automobile that day in 1997, folks, while I resided at 112 Harvard Avenue in Somerdale, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG. But as for other folks, well, this is just the beginning of a wild ride that is filled and loaded with powerful shit, that is if my wonderful daughter doesn't kick the shit out of me for opening up my mouth too much! Now that's a powerful mighty ass coincidence folks, the (`~ HACK) is back, after being gone quite a while, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MC's way of saying, YOU GOT THAT RIGHT, BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Toledo, Ohio is not the only wild reason that she really is my daughter, ladies and gentlemen, and I never liked that expression even before I knew I was a 10 percenter, LEE! My best to Cuzz Meeshy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am getting HER ATTENTION, Bob FCC McDowell, super hacking starting up at Melanie Psychic time, you know, 2:08, only this is in the AM, Barnabas Collins and Dock Probs Eric Lang, of the American Broadcasting Company. Hay, so I knew about videotapes in the sixties; so sue me, ABC, NBC, and CBS. Fuck all of you. It was 'STM', nothing more, nothing less. I had detention, and did not want to miss your cool fucking show, “Dark shadows”. So Gerry and Sue me, ya' rotten bastards! Talk about molehills and fucking ass mountains, YO!

YEAH ME' Queensa HACKIN MAITEES, so let me see gerneet, YAR!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAA.

[ 1 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

For the record.

PAu000662409

1984

[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989