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MY
BLOGS:
PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
United
States Copyright Office Records, pasted in part:
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001148157
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1988
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001189027
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1989
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COPYRIGHT
CLAIMANT NAME: MARK WAYNE MOHR
BLOG
PAGE-VIEW STATS AS OF 3 AM, 7/12/2014:
POSTED
AT END OF BLOG, FOLKS!
55555555555555555555555555
I
am going to explain something that will mostly fall on deaf ears,
and this is more pitiful and totally pathetic than the combined
wars that the United States of America has fought in, all put
together. You need not agree, but if you don't agree, I promise
it is only because you cannot see what I am about to tell you,
even if, as David Roth once thought he knew where I was coming
from in 1997 up at the Highpoint Military War-games Installation
of Warren Grove, New Jersey, one very early July morning not that
much past midnight. In so doing what I now am going to do, I
could pick at pure random, or think I am picking at pure random;
anything A to Z, no dam exaggeration here, I totally promise all
of you this. Let's pick my ex-partner of the SP Record Company,
founded in 1998, up in Jersey. If you read me a few blogs back,
you know that I was saying how really heart breaking and pitiful
it is that those in the UNACCEPTED TO JOIN THE CLUB club, and
this could range in any industry and career, meaning simply that
a lock is indeed in place in ways way to clever for even 50 dream
teams hired by Oranthal Simpson himself (OJ); would never ever be
able to tear through and prove is real and tangible, but I assure
you, it is, and that is how good this thing set into place,
really works. If you are in doubt with that statement, keep it in
your mind and rent or purchase that great movie, or if you own
it, watch it again, and see under this new light, when New York
City taxi driver, Mel Gibson, tells the great Julia Roberts,
that it wouldn't be a top conspiracy if it could be broken
through; in that timeless and great Hollywood effort; the movie
of the nineties, and none other than, “Conspiracy
Theory”. So
now back to the club that secretly invites those who are
permitted to be successful in life, or not; and their utter total
power over this, without exception; going even into gaming
situations, marriages; and it has all been covered thoroughly, by
these monsters from hell; I can assure you. Now in the example
that I cite, Paul and I had a tiny little Mickey Mouse musical
record label, in 1998, and it still is on the books in Camden
county, New Jersey, called, Studio Parks Records. If Paul, my
partner read my blog from a few back now, regarding this club, he
would say to me, I know it as sure as I sit here in this dam
chair; ''Mark, you're full of shit''. We came this close to
making it to the top, and then through no fault of ours, that
buttwipe David Mahon pulled some inconceivable bullshit as a big
record label meeting, and we all got screwed, just when Cape
Lonely, a song of Paul's, was about to be signed to this top
major label's country division, in Nashville, Tennessee. What
Paul doesn't see is that this is what this club does to those on
the NOT-INVITED-IN list, which obviously for reasons that only
they really know and understand in some warped and twisted way;
is the vast majority of the population, after-all, you cannot
have all Chiefs and no Indians, capitalism would fall apart under
that doomed to fail dome in a New York minute. I no longer am mad
over this, even though we all were due to come up overnight
millionaires, and my entire life would have been different
practically overnight. I am only angry, and all the more angry
over what I had suspected all along, this rigged game and the on
and off invite-lists, and again, in any and all trades, it means
invited to be successful or not, and if not, guess what, you will
stay down, and poor, and oppressed; until the very day that you
mother fuckiGN drop dead; no matter what you do, and that is a
promise! So no need to blame Mahon and his stupid actions at that
meeting on that day, PP, or anything, well, other than this
POWERFUL PEOPLE'S CONTROL LIST of who makes it, and who cakes it,
right in the dam ass puss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that is forever,
and YOU CAN FUCKING BELIEVE IT, old partna'!
My
eternal love and loyalty to my electron, is officially recorded
right here, in this here-now illusion fixed point of mind focus
in this present persona, of me, and is hereby now declared to
this cosmos, and SIGNED;
MARK
WAYNE MOHR for
the entire worlds of hyperspace to know!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
So
long story made short for right now, as I am sleepy and need to
retire for the evening; all the things in Morianity just as Terry
Knowitall, from Egg Harbor City, New Jersey said about 7 years
back, Morianity is the product of a scatter-brain, but there was
no way in the world, other than for doing it like this, and very
soon, when I link stuff up nice and neat, you will get an
experience like no other book or written work ever has given you,
just wait and see. But this will not come if my count stays low,
and the few out here who do enjoy reading this, are too busy or
plain out lazy, to give this a little push and a little plug from
time to time, on their social media pages or networks, ar as the
great Congressman said so perfectly back in 1975, or 'whatever',
and I am not expecting some 1000 per day read. This is not some
blog filled with nude girls, or instructions on how to do
anything you want and never get caught, or how to jump across the
state in one muighty leap, no, it is a blog that is not ever
going to be real popular to the masses, that is to be totally
expected. But still and all, when I do tie stuff up all nice and
neat, and allow some selected viewers that only you will come to
know eventually just who you are and who you're not; but then,
things get beyond good, but this will not happen at some
read-level 2. Remember the 96 hour or 4 day midnight time blocks,
under 300 hits, type 1. 300-600 hits, type 2. Over 600 hits, type
3 quality, and quality it will be. When and if it happens, it was
meant to, and I will finish it all out with a bang so big and
loud, tbhe earth WILL SHAKE UNDER OUR FEET, great Aretha. So this
as always, is the call of the viewers, I only comply with the
requests, sort of like a blogger-DJ with text rather than music.
This as Ziggy would say so well back in th eyear of 1969, is just
the way it goes, AND IT IS!
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WHEN
I GET INTO THE FULL INFORMATION ON SSJKK'S FAVE GAME, YOU WILL
GET THE MIND BLOW OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, LADS AND LASSIES, I
PROMISE!
OH
SHIT, I think my point has been successfully
made here, ladies and gentlemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Don't
even get me started, Misses Eckert Pharmacy, back on 7/12; on the
topic of EXPLORATRONS,
PLEASE!
TANKS!!!
STEP
UP TO THE TRUTH, THE SHIT MAY INVOLVE SOME NEW STEEP THINKING,
BUT IN THE END, IT IS BEYOND FUCKING WORTH IT, PEEPS!!!
So
the stairs were climbed, and the mountains, and all of the
Caddyshacks have been entered, but warnings and messages were
always received too late, Lieutenant Commander Jordytrek, YO.
Still,
that was an unmistakable message that I should have got, that
'Bush would' be the one indeed, to meet me in Ricktown Manor, at
his fave table at my mom's restaurant, TABLE-15, right Mister
Chaney?????????????????
How
I wish the lady with the Volvo and the copyright lady with the
problem with the yellow paper had told me what they seemingly
wanted to tell me, instead of beating me with golf clubs, and all
around the bush, huh Brad Messenger? If you are out there, I know
you're fucking scared shitless to get involved in my hell, but
hay, why not screw up your courage and give me one of those
Henningsen-buzzes on me' ol' landline, BRO?
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
OH
SHIT
maybe
I need a fucking antacid tablet, or some kind of train tablet or
strobelight, right Zvonko, and Congressman RA??????? Yes of
course my great daughter already knew she would be the greatest,
but she didn't need Zvonko and his dumb ass tablet to tell her
that in late 1983, I promise you that,
WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY PROBLEM DOCK, SHEEEEEEEEEEIT,
what bullshit, Mister “First-Do No Harm”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cut me a break Margie Leo.
So
who landed Misses Bassler, and who drowned off the great pier,
since obviously Billy didn't? Well, the cards eventually showed
Jordy and the Star Trek Next Gen crew a lot of strange cycle
codes, and this is what is happening to me too, Professor Kaku.
You are the Hawk are missing one mother fucking hell of a dam ass
party you know, so keep pretending none of this is happening,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW.
I
have promised to tell more, and my count is starting now to
bottom out after some serious drop from when I was getting a
month or more of about 230 page-hits daily. What I will tell is
not going to be understood, but you will get a chill pill thrill
out of hearing a lot of it, that is if you don't end up going as
fucking stark raving mad as Joe Paget, Counselor Kieth, and
Congressman Assistant 1998 Clarence Harris mad and brain
scrambled like slow Robbie, fast Jesse, and all types of phone
taps, the bad kind and the good kind, huh lovely LIGHTNING??? Boy
do I love my Diana. Holy fucking CALLIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Even
the god dam fucking local media all knows the powerful pipeline
of I-95 is dangerously real. The only reason the top gangs
haven't finished me off, is they know my kid would send them to
Dogtown forever and ever. They may be covering this all up with
conscious mind, but we all have learned that we forget nothing as
conscious mind, it is a blocker, not a forgetter. With a simple
trigger, every last detail comes sharply back, 10, 20, 90 years,
and we further learned that in truth, none of us are who we used
to be, and as we change and evolveit is not some old us that dies
but some new us that is all the more alive. If you cannot grasp
this, you are grasping this, and your consciousness is not
letting the real you deep inside become aware that you are. Is
that deep enough for you; gorgeous waitress Vera at Mels 1980
Diner????????????????????????
Folks,
it is time for me to get to bed, I am tired and beat up to shit,
YO. Have a nice night and the rest of your weekend be as super
blessed as triple shit, WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Except
for the Almighty GODDESS MIDDIE; OR MOTHER-DAUGHTER-ELECTRON;
(MDE); you
can Put
all of ''THAT''
endlessness, on
your blackboard; David
Leigh Smith;
back at Haddonfield, NJ, in 1970!!!!!!!! So freaking
W—O—W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OH
THE
GODS;
DOES
ETERNAL
LIFE
SUCK!!!!
MARK
WAYNE MOHR
Copyright
Mark Wayne Mohr
2006-2014,
all rights reserved.
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2014.
JULY
13, 2014,
EARLY
SUNDAY MORNING AT 3:22,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 76 DEGREES FNHT,
HUMIDITY-100%,
FEELS 82 AND SHITTY.
EITHER
WAY, THE 82 BLUE, HUH RYAN BONJOVI?
Well,
I am sleepy and do not want to fall of my chair, Mister Lobo, and
Gabby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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AND
VIVA
MORIANITY!
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