'MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3'
MOVING
TOWARDS THE 15 YEAR
CHAPTER
004
JUNE
21, 2014,
SATURDAY
AFTERNOON AT 5:01,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 93 DEGREES FNHT.
HIMIDITY-50%,
and summer is reading calendars.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,
MISTER ELMER FWUDDDD!
Yes
it is extremely toasty-warm to put it mildly, ladies and gentlemen of
mostly dreaming other worlds of advanced times in hyperspace. Let us
move on.
Thoughts
and the realm that exists where this energy becomes thoughts, any
kind of thoughts; is known by many names, just as ''GOD'' is, and I
have both a MICROSUCKS LIGHTBULB HACK KICKING IN, as well as an old
country song that I wrote in 1995 to prove it. Still, GOD is just the
word DOG in reverse, and I bewilders me to the point of
inconceivability, how anyone would name an Almighty such a quick and
offensive item, but that's their bizz of course. I do know that after
''he'' made Adam, the real truth is that, not being a fagot, he just
was not all that impressed. So then he made a woman, and the biblical
account of how ''woman'' was named is also a lot of fucking hooey.
''God'' took one look at what ''he'' had just done, and said to
''himself'', 'WO'---MAN!
I
was taken into a large auditorium last night shortly after daybreak
somewhere, don't ask, as I just couldn't get to sleep last fucking
night. When I was in there it was empty. Suddenly as if a switch was
activated, it was filled to capacity. Then everyone was chanting my
name, “Mark, Mark, Mark”, and I felt like Joe in the 'Flatliners
Movie', when he was attempting to put the moves on that gorgeous
blond college coed who had recently had a near-death experience, AKA
a NDE. After this chanting went on a while, about two dozen or so
peeps out of an entire crowd of unbelievable proportions, began
lining up near to where I was standing on some field arena, but there
was no evidence that any ball game I am familiar with, was going to
take place, and there definitely was no concert, as there was no
stage or any kind of apparatus either. I am now going to tell you a
quick story, to any 'real' this realm folks; who may be out here, and
it would not shock me one iota if that count is goose eggs zero.
There always will be some travelers checking me out from time to
time, and I'd be a fucking raving lunatic not to realize that, Sharon
Payne, wouldn't I, red 'X' situations and counter intelligence all
not withstanding, Mister Watergate Jockamini.
The
last three chapters of my previous BLOG-BOOK, I was told, in sung
musical lyrics with a lovely melody, along with a very cool
piano-guitar music track, accompanying them; from the gods only know
where; are the reasons why my 200+ daily page-views suddenly cut down
by 70+%. This song went onto tell me that there is a lesson in
everything, and that a lot more than the poison-cigarette incident at
506 Robin Hill Apartments, was happening with this here. They began
going into details about why the exact 'behind the curtains' was
there in the first place, that made those who are always watching me,
and yes, messing with me as well; suddenly vanish, both then and now;
and put an entirely new spin on it that I never even thought of, but
I remember it all, and will be telling it all, in blogs to shortly
follow this one.
I
also have asked my Astral-Kitty some questions, and will be blowing
your minds with a lot of new GAWNUM stuff, if there are any minds to
blow. The ESS is way ahead of anything I can ever do, and for all I
know there is not one other soul out here other than for the great
and fucking powerful ESS, Guess/Guests, so I am going to try and
guess a few of these travelers, or (guests) mow, on this very blog,
lads and lassies, and whatever else.
HHHHHHHHHHHHH's
in the music bar or not, lovely Andrews Sisters, and Betty Midler;
that was one wild experience with this choir of folks who got up,
stood in a line in front of me with me at dead center, as if I was
some church preacher; and then that wild song with that wild music in
the background that came from nowhere and everywhere, all at the same
time. Still, part of the song told me that because I told publicly
about my nocturnal experiences with my kid and my distant cuzz; a lot
of the travelers were forced t make strategic exits. This tune
message went on to further tell me that David Roth gave me gold-bar
advice, when he said 'They can't deal with being exposed', sort of
like a vampire being discovered at noon by a group with hammers and
stakes. As I said, I'll tell more about al this, later on in future
blog work.
THIS
MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD SICKO GUEST-NABE HAS WIPED OUT MY MOTHER
FUCKING HELLIDAY HOLIDAY WEEKEND, BUT THEN FOLKS, WHAT THE FUCKING
SHIT ELSE IS NEW? SLAM, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM, HOLLER, HOLLER, AND SO ON,
HOLIDAYS
FOR ME
ARE ALL A PART OF THAT GREAT GAME OF SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE'S;
AND ONE OF HER VERY FAVES, IF I MAY BE 'PERMITTED' TO ADD IN HERE
ALSO, UNCLE BABYLON GOZZWALD HEINZ, CAMERA OPERATING MAVIN OF 1972!
So
let's take this and start to play this great PEARL HARBOR GAME, with
the great SSJKK.
Every time I ever used to do anything at all, between late 1986 and
right through the present time, to in any way try and either improve
my personal life situation in any possible way, or try and get
someone to listen to me and believe my problem with all of this
fuckign dog shit is really real, EXPLORATRONS from the ESS would get
into peeps around me, and every time with no exceptions, make them
real noisy, make them do bad shit to me such as damage my property or
worse; and this pattern is beyond any chance in a trillin fucking
trillion to that amount of an exponential power, to one; against
being just a random pattern of sameness, happening over a near three
solid fucking decade period in time. A moron with a mnickey pill and
a laughing gas nitrous oxide shot, could see this, with blinders cunt
eating on their eyes, unless they did not want to see the truth, you
know, the GWPO SYNDROME of 1994-WILL-I AM-ST-OWN, and boy does she
own the land and boy is she carrying out her threats on me, right US
© Office, just as my 1983 lyrics foretold in their perfect
unmissable-Nostradamus way! One of these projects is where this tune
is part of the collection, I cannot remember which, and of course,
the great family, robbed me of all of my most prized Paul 1970
Stoddard Possessions, as the end of the last decade was all winding
fucking cunt ass down, BRO!
Oh well, pigs raised by pigs
might just equal all saga games as well as barnyard animals and
powerful KINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who can ever know all truth, Jack
Wonderful McCoy?????????
Folks, this magical
fucking paste-in, is as timeless, as the mother fucking seas, and
shellfish; of any and all bone collectors; right Angie? OH
SHIT, Mister Data
Emotion chip!
This
nightmare mother fucking year of twenty-fourteen, is beyond any hell;
and as you know; every day or just about, is super fucking cunt
eating BOTBAR,
meaning Bottom
Of
The
Barrel
Already
Rated.
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But
is this the only timeless great Paste-In? I think fucking not. How's
trying this shit on for size, Charles Barkley, old BB buddy, YO? yes,
the STOCK
MARKET DOUBLED
in this tiny fucking 3 year period of 95-97, and 1997 was as bad for
me as 1986, and now, HERE WE FUCKING GO ALL OVER AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!
'Georgia,
Georgia'; whether it is the entire night or just a train boarded at
midnight; it still contains Jane Rottengirl Muscleactivist, but I
still like the cool computer font!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On
my older blogs, if you read the section back in 2008; a week before
going to the Atlantic City beach, and taking a giant girl gang
attack, of literally ten or more of them, and all between sis-six,
and six ten somewhere; blocking and obstructing my ability to get to
the ocean from where Ann Silva and I were sitting at the beach; you
can see another one of thousands of perfect fucking examples, of my
being messed with; with literally not
even an astronomical chance
for any of these events to just be my sick delusions and or some
weird life coincidences. It is all there on the old blogs to be
archived, and there is nothing at all that this fuckiGN rotten family
from hell, can do with all of their games, and ESS, and all of it; to
stop this proof from being here, or making it go away. So what do
they do? They just make any of you out here TOTALLY NOT BELIEVE A
WORD I SAY, no matter how powerful my proofs stare all of you right
smack dab in the cock sucking face, at
C-SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So who were the GUESTS or the
travelers in the ESS-CLUB that day on the fuckiGN beach of Atlantic
City, New Jersey? Well, this gang of giant girls in my way, fucking
with me and intimidating poor little fucking innocent fragile cunt
eating me, and laughing and thinking it's funny as fucking shit on a
fucking ass shingle! We coyuld literally play the great PEARL HARBOR
GAME FOREVER, and this is exactly what I plan to do in this new
book-blog. I'll be pasting in archived proofs, then tell how it all
connects, and then count these up, one, two, three, and let all of
you out here see for your fucking selves, that this pattern goes into
the thousands, and not all of them are since my blogs started, since
these blogs only go back close to eight and a half mother fucking
years, and this hell on me since 08/15/1986, is quite a bit longer
than this; still; I PLAN TO SHOW ALL OF YOU SOME REAL MIND DESTROYIN
G PROOF, and if anyone chooses to read along and go JOSEPH PAGET
CRAZY, this is an official mother fucking disclaimer. Praise be at
6:12, it has dropped now down to 89. Oh the gods does
my cunt chewing life fucking SUCK!
Now
''here is the shituation'', Inspector Louigee Kent Superhenderson.
THIS
DIRT BAG JERK OFF NOISY GUEST IS HERE FOR
THE FUCKING CUNT EASTER HOLIDAY. But which holiday, or maybe spelled
more cosmically correct; witch-holiday, and witch year, SARAH
CROWE?????????????????? I am quite familiar with the legends of the
birds, Alfred Hitchcock, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, this GTNOTG
game from December 7, 1996, is a day that will live in infamy with me
for the next two million cunt sniffing centuries, I PROMISE YOU,
Tahren and George. Hay let's play a game boy, called Guess The Name
Of The Guests”, said SARAH to me on 12/07/1996. Many are thinking,
who have military service backgrounds, I suppose; ''Mountainpen, you
big ass fucking baby; try sinking in a fucking bombed out ship, after
a surprise Japanese attack was launched; and early in the morning;
just like your experience. Then you'll have some beer glasses to
really start crying into''. My reply back to you is a simple one.
I'LL TRADE YOU THAT NIGHTMARE FOR THIS ONE, any time, any place, any
any, any any any any!!!!!!!!!!! So is 27 your number, lovely
lightning, as I know all about you, and artificial intelligence,
artificial insemination and other things recently in the picture of
after dark brightly lit up chemtrails, containing these 'AI'
initials, are no way in anyone's imagination; and least of all mine.
Still, I am out of all of this shit. I am heading shortly to South
America, and would rather die there no the beach, broke, than here in
the evil states, persecuted to my fuckiGN last breath, by dirty
rotten scoundrel scum bags times ten to the power of ten
vigintillion!!!!!!!!!!!!
'GTNOTG'
on PH
Day of 1997.
PH as in what happens to my skin if I stop the ''down to ten'' 'at a
van', or other strobing vehicle that might be lime green in hue; or
PH as in the maiden name of this incredible mind bending GODDESS
(MIDDIE), in her first-top state personality
Mother-Daughter-Electron? You see, the universe screams out to all of
us, all of these mind bending Joe Paget brain destroying CLUES and
COINCIDENCES, and when I say this, I am a fucking diseased psychotic
nut case with delusions and ego and all of that. Yet when the great
father of the NEW AGE, James Redfield says these same exact things,
in all of his great books, such as the Celestine Prophecy and the
Celestine Prophecy; he makes millions and is revered and worshiped.
This is what I mean by how the ESS-GUESTS have total control and
power OVER THEIR DOPPELGANGERSA that they get inside of. You always
are inside, even normal type one dreamers, and is why dreams almost
appear as if we are watching a movie. We are, literally; unless we
also are taking over the reigns also; Santa Claus, and Patricia
Hollister; and controlling our movies. Instead of joysticks, or
whatever; all is MIND. Everything everywhere is MIND. Mind is where
we have space-time in the great hyperspace of the multiverse, and is
why eventually when all of this is known about, as future more
advanced and enlightened times come to be, in each parallel reality;
we call the entire package of all of this, as we should; STM, or
(SPACE-TIME-MIND). You really do have to give me one thing whether
you want to or not, you just cannot in all fairness and honesty take
my props away here folks, that if all of this mother fucking
MORIANITY is all total bullshit cubed; you really have to hand it to
me that it sure makes a lot of sense, and putting this entire story
of my miserable hellish nightmare fucking life all together, does in
fact make these giant puzzle pieces fit quite nicely into the picture
that all of these blogs have been painting, so if I am really wrong,
you still have to give me a giant fucking EEEEEEEEEE for effort,
right Rhonda Neevah? I mean really, this is either really all true
and real, or someone or some thing has gone to a herculean effort to
make it all seem this way, and just who would do that and expend that
much energy, and why would I be so important so that it all went down
in the fuckiGN first place. So cut it all up folks any way you choose
to slice and dice it, and when you tote it all back up, to quote Joe
Friday from the great DRAGNET original sixties television show; it
comes out; ''GIVE POOR OLD MOUNTAINPEN HIS DAM ASS MOTHER FUCKING
PROPS, BRRRRRRRRRR''. TANKS!!!!
So
why not try
this;
EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY,
or Tom Glenn, huh United States Copyright Office from 1980 and 1981?
Why not play the great game of SSJKK, you know, the one she calls
GTNOTG? After-all, if anyone is doing anything out of place, if
something is weird, if something seems wrong, if things don't make
sense, this most of the time, human race; has been your answer to
your wonderment about so much, all along. I am guessing the names of
a lot of guests, and I do it all the time now, lovely MIDDIE-BEG.
Still, I know this your fave-game, and that I am THAT-BOY, but is
there any chance you will ever end this nightmare torture for me, by
remembering who and what you truly are in this life? I am so dying to
hear you sing Love Is For Carpenters to me, my endless
love!!!!!!!!!!! We sure don't want this forever and ever, echoing
around the endless cycles of cosmic truth, with or without all of my
electronic junk back at the Robin Hill Apartments.
Now
I am hungry and wish to have a nice spaghetti dinner with some
creamed spinach, and some ice cream for desert, while I enjoy a good
movie or two on television. WO Billy H. MAN, nobody ever thanks me
for extending the life of this humankind experiment, do they, you
original brake dancer you. Lenny McKinnon';s probably getting all
jealous right about now, YO! Say it Dad and Dawn-Marie King, ga'hed,
''SHEEEEEEEEEIT''!
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, but no longer. It is caused by unnamed GUESTS of the ESS.
Remember, she loves games, she loves codes, she loves numbers, and
she always has, the real HER, Sarah Krassle, and I know all about
you, and this made you crazy when I © that song in ninety-seven, I
suppose. Sorry, I really didn't know beans from bear. I'll tell you
right now, it was just another silly stupid song, you know, like the
one eleven years before. Again, so sorry, Ambassador
12-7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''Yeah I'm bad''; and yeah, Jerry Heitzmann
Boardwalk, from 1971; I'm hungry, abnd need to get my feast on by
crossing over the street there at Sarah's great and powerful (GAP)
Waterworks, the Atlantic city Municipal Utilities Authority; and get
some great tasting food at the CHECKERS, then you can crown me KING
SAGA SONGWRITER, papa non ripped off JOHN-TOWN; WEEEEEEEEEE! Hay I'm
just being me, and without a dam bumper sticker on my car from 1987,
and on top of that, Palvo Checkoff sir; Admiral Headwounds; I
am not here to make a bunch of Joe Paget and Clarence Harris Postal
Anger situations; as this is never by any means Morianity's mission,
YO. Nowhere
in all of my Morianity, will you find any of that shit; not even with
or without, any 1983 copyrighted musical
projects!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But yes girl, I will indeed tell you anything you ever want or need
to know, I promise you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
VIRTUALLY
EVERY
SINGLE DAY IS BOTBAR
IN 2014, and I think there is a high percentage chance that this will
be the year of my
freaking asshole death,
ACLU, and all other authorities!!!!
Florida
Attorney
General
Pam
Bondi
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I
know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank
you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in
New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands
are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean.
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You
missed me, Jane Dirtweeds Sleazedisease!!!! HA-HA-HA witch bitch.
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
MIKE MCNULTY, YO!
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
ALONG
WITH THE GREAT WEATHER BUG APP, WEEEE!
You
see, AWAKE,
it would not make sense for a bunch of powerful people to care more
about hurting me than being with their own families who they must
love in some sick diseased perverted way. But when you see things in
the new light of EXPLORATRONICS, hay we all have to sleep, so they
simply have found a way to make sleep-time become extremely
productive, and for that, we all do in fact, need to give these rat
hole bastards a great
big fucking gold star!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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.
|
Advisory
Colors Key
|
|
|
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Winter
Storm Watch
|
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Flood
Warning
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Non-Precipitation
Advisory
|
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|
Flood
Statement
|
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, all the mysteriousness of shit is gone, when you put on your new
exploratronic glasses. Even unexplainable things like KABOOM,
Mister Clancy and
Mister
David
Leigh Smith, back
in the autumn of 1970,
at Haddonfield,
New Jersey,
in
the Cooley Hall;
Sir
ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH,
PROGRAMMING OVERRIDER, SIR;
My
blogs, pweeeeeze archive them, thank you!!!
I
LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT, IT HAS DROPPED DOWN TO FUCKING 84
DEGREES NOW AT 7:09, but is still mostly sunny and bright with a few
clouds scattered around here and there, good and bad folks, alike,
WEEEEEEE!!!!! Here comes the fucking (`~HACK) now, FCC, Bobby
McDowell, YO!
THE
WEATHER BUG,
In
Partnership With
and
shared by this blogger, who may be contacted through:
Local Weather Cameras
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
Well,
nighty-night folks, I am hungry and tired, and it is time to sign
off! So bye-bye evweebuddy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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