I
AM UNDER LATE MORNING NOISE SIEGE, PAM BONDI, STATE OF FLORIDA
POLICE, AND LOCAL FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA PEEDEE. IT BEGAN JUST SHY OF
NOON, AND LOTS OF JERK OFF ENEMIES ARE ALL AROUND ME TODAY, THE PLACE
IS ACTIVE, AND I KEEP HEARING LOUD GHETTO TRASH BOOM BOOM THUD MUSIC.
JOURNAL
TAPE 25,800
Let
me take a bite out of what is happening, as it is quite major, ladies
and gentlemen.
HERE
IS THE SHITUATION, INSPECTOR LOUIGEE KENT SUPERHENDERSON. I had just
come out of a powerful dreaming experience where Dawn-Marie King in a
parallel universe was making hot passionate love to me. After being
what you would consider to be 'awake' for about twenty minutes or
less around ten minutes shy of noon, all hell broke loose with loud
booming music attacks, and quite a few doors, that stopped and
restarted, and finally calmed down. I was just about to go down and
get resident manager Debbie, who is here most Monday's, to come up
and help me in here!!!!!!!!!!!! Bob McDowell, this keyboard fuck up
hack where they do all sorts of things to me while I just normally
accurately type words and sentences, SIR, is real bad again, and has
been for a few days, please make the water hose bucket nightmares
stop, Denise Grobeman, before I sag down into the harbor and float
away into a pile of loose stinky rotten fucking shit. Thank
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Every
time I have any enjoyment whether here or somewhere else in the
hyperspace with memory of it, THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ALWAYS ASSAULTS
ME. It is dependable non switch but SWISS clockwork precision. I also
have stomach cramps for absolutely no reason this morning, and know
this exact feeling by heart. I was struck down hard by this fucking
stinking dirt bag diseased government cult called NASA-NSA! WHERE
ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU, oh great and powerful and lovely
Pam Bondi, Attorney General of Florida
Folks,
things are very bad for me, and if it does not stop in a short time,
I will vanish in the middle of the mother fucking night to MEXICO! If
you doubt this, you will find out who is kidding who, mother fucking
cunt lappers!!!!!!!!!
A
while ago, a story was all over the local media in my area, and as if
they knew I would eventually jump on this to vindicate my own
reputation in similar matters, they very quickly ended the story,
unlike so many others such as when Mister Beiber came to the area and
raised a ruckus and went to jail for a while, like
Boo.
What happened quite simply put, was a young college man wanted to buy
sex from some homeless teen girl, who killed him with her bare hands
when he did not pay her. The details to the story are totally
irrelevant to my point for today. He was small and she was a big
strong girl, who punched him in his throat, and then when he fell
helplessly to the ground. She put her knee on his throat while he
chocked to death. He begged Campus Security for help, and they were
too scared to do much except run and get help; pretty much what I
would have to do, so who am I to speak here? Anyway, when the
authorities got back, the poor little dude was dead and gone, at the
hands of this wild teen girl. No weapon was used in this killing,
other than her powerful body. Whenever I tell things to people that
resembles a story like this, be it my rape in the summer of 1969, or
just how I love to say back to a TV set when the Lipator Medication
commercial comes on, in a joking way, as it rhymes; “jip-a-whore”.
Then I say after saying this, “There's no whore you want to jip if
you know what is good for you”. In truth, I have arm wrestled a lot
of the women in my life, to quote Bob Cheatley Patterson, and won
only a couple times out of many tries. I have very weak arms, and
street girls are very strong, Ann King used to call it, “JAIL
STRENGTH”. She may have something there, to quote 3-Stooge, Mister
Moe Howard! Still, I am tired of being laughed at, and then a story
breaks that vindicates all the shit I fucking talk about and get
laughed at for saying, and instead of anyone ever coming back to me
and saying, wo, hay Mark, bla-bla-bla, no, fuck me, I don't matter
worth a shit to this mother fucking ass world, do I Mister SNOWED-IN
and Mister ALEX JONES? Bob McDowell, FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS
COMMISSION, SIR AND OLD FRIEND FROM 1972, they are hacking my mother
fucking computer huge time, please make it stop, ALL HOT HOSE BUCKET
PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!!!
The
shift key hack again, BOB MCDOWELL, FCC, sir and pal. That is why the
(`~) problem exists, I have come to unravel that little cunt sucking
mystery. Well maybe they refuse to learn just what I am able to do to
these pricks.
MMMMMMMMMM----OPEN
COMMAND ON G-7 ON MY VOICE PRINT, MAGNESONIC. MAX POWER, ALL TECHS,
ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS. FULL ENEMY SCAN. PUNISHMENT DESTRUCT
SYSTEM WILL ACTIVATE. A CRUSHED IO IS ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK,
EMPOWER THIS NOW, THE TONES WILL BE IN LONG VOWEL (E) SOUNDS.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
eighteenclevergirls
and STOP!
They
will be real cunt lapping sorry. These mother fucking pricks will ALL
DIE AND SO WILL THEIR LOVED ONES, AND THAT IS A TOTAL PROMISE. Even
now they keep fucking with the (`~) HACK, really the same old
SHIFT-KEY HACK, FCC, Bob McDowell, sir and friend from 1972! They
made this cunt lapping day SUPER BOTBAR immediately upon arising from
slumber, as they always do if I have what you might cool, ''extra
great dreams''. I am sure you recall me telling you all about 1994
and my drive over to the Haddonwood Health club in major overcast
skies, yet above me the entire time, was the entire MILITUFORCE,
rumbling their loud ''intimidating'' jet
force!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Something
huge must be happening on dirt ball WALL STREET, maybe we are
''CROSSING OVER'' the fucking cunt lapping 17 thousand mark, but some
major shit is going on and I'll be fucking dialing 911 any second, YO
YO YO YO YO and telling my entire life story to Florida authorities,
as if they don't already know it.
APRIL
30, 2014,
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:30,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 87 DEGREES FNHT.
SUPER
FUCKING BOTBAR
RED
ALERT—RED ALERT
RED
ALERT-RED ALERT
RED
ALERT-RED ALERT
FUCK
YOU MICROSUCKS LIGHT BULB HACKER!!!
Now
I must use filler lines to get rid of JANE
SLEAZEWITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All
I am going to do is tell you that soon to follow blogs will include
some major GAWNUM stuff, recent Q&A shit with the magic cat, and
all the stuff promised, as well as tying in a lot of more recent
shit, and further proving how my hands are not the ones that need
washing, distant cousin DAVID.
BIO
STATS AS OF 5 PM ON 29 APRIL, 2014:
|
This
is a story that could go on for 1000 Moby Dick sized books, and I
don't plan on boring you. I call this the end of 82 set up that led
to the land of mystery, or for short, the EO1982SUTLTTLOM. I will
bore you all at a later time, folks!!!!
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
ALONG
WITH THE GREAT WEATHER BUG APP, WEEEE!
WELL,
IT IS THEIR FUCKING FUNERAL, AS IF I HAVE TO PUT EVERYONE OUT OF
THEIR MISERY, RON WIRTZ SENIOR WITH THE AEB, I WILL, AS A TOTAL LAST
RESORT. I TOO HAVE 18 CLEVER GIRLS, ALL WRAPPED INTO ONE POWERFUL
BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
TOLD YOU GINA. THIS IS AS DEPENDABLE AS ANY SWITCH WATCH ON THE
PLANET. RUIN MY WEEKEND WITH PERSECUTION, AND UP SHE GOES, THE DOW
JONES THAT IS, AND UP, AND YES, UP, AND YES FOLKS, UP AND UP AND UP
AND UP, FOREVER AND FOREVER AND FOREVER, WITH OR WITHOUT ALL OF THE
MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFF MICROSUCKS LIGHTBULB HACKERS IN THE
MULTIVERSE FUCKING MY COMPUTER UP, FCC, OLD PAL, BOB MCDOWELL!!!
BEAUTIFUL
LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW
PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.
MY
LOVE FOR YOU IS ENDLESS, LOVELY BABY-BLOND. NOW WE ALL CAN SEE YOU
ONE NIGHT IN ARIZONA, THANX.
HELP
ME MIDDIE, TRIPLE GODDESS, OH LOVELY GREAT AND POWERFUL BABYLONIAN
TEEN-QUEEN!
NOW
I AM GOING TO RANDOMLY SELECT A SAFE JOURNAL BLOG, AND SHOW YOU JUST
HOW FUCKING POWERFUL THE MAGIC OF MORIANITY REALLY CAN BE, BUT ARE
YOU DOING ANY OF THIS IN YOUR LIVES? IF NOT, THEN YOU HAVE NO DESIRE
TO TRY AND PROVE ME WRONG EVEN THOUGH YOU MOST LIKELY THINK I AM JUST
A BIG OLD UGLY FAT WORTHLESS FUCKING
CRACKPOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But is that a fair assessment? If I
can prove to you this is all real and so am I, and you don't allow
the proof and instead just make up your mind as though you're all god
almighty, well, you see the flaw in mommy';s fucking keyboards from
petahell theories from late 1988 in Munikay Moorestown!!!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0210
KING
NEBNOOSHOO
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
SUBTITLE
4: “AWAKENED TO DEATH SIEGE BY DIRT SCUM”
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2297
SBT-DATFILE:
CH-0210-081211.043
COPYRIGHTED
BLOG © OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
I
POSTED UP MY LAST BLOG AND WENT TO BED. I WAS AWAKENED TO A MOTHER
FUCKING FIRE ALARM, 2 MINUTES SHY OF THE MOTHER
FUCKING OPENING BELL ON WALL STREET IN NEW YORK, NEW YORK, SO
I AM POSITIVE THAT THEY WILL GET ANOTHER SUGER BANG UP BULLISH DAY ON
THEIR CROOKED DISEASED STOCK MARKET. ON TOP OF THAT, THEY WOKE ME UP
TO A MONSTROUS MOTHER FUCKING SORE THROAT. MAYBE I WILL NEED TO GO TO
THE ACADEMY ROAD EXIT OFF OF INTERSTATE-95, AFTER BEAMING BOTH MY CAR
THERE, AND BEFORE DOING THAT; BEAMING IT OVER TO 5133 OAKLAND STREET,
ALL IN EARLY 1988 OF COURSE, AND ALL WITH PERMISSION OF COURSE, FROM
THE GREAT COPYRIGHT EXAMINERS, DOWN IN WASHINGTON----***13***----DC,
WHERE THE STATUTORY AGE OF FEMALE SEXUAL CONSENT, IS QUITE YOUNG; AND
A WELL GUARDED SECRET, THAT MANY QUITE KNOWLEDGABLE PEEPS, ARE
TOTALLY UNAWARE OF.
Yes
my poor lymph notes and glands tend to get calcified and inflamed,
when the MOVERS use their great STROBE-LIGHT for so many mother
fucking evil demonic purposes. This is because they fuck me up with
horrible CHEMTRAILS, so that my body then needs to try and fight off
infection, and many other symptoms, listed on certain many magical
time tapes. Yes, yes, there are lots of powerful things going on, far
beyond all the 'powerful stuff' we can ever hope to view on our
television sets, my friends out here in 49 states, and also of
course, Missouri, and the rest of the world, including Alaska and
Hawaii. My mom, wrote to a man in 1986, begging for his help. His
name was Chuck Colson, the great born-again-Christian, who placed
'GOD' above worldly things and 'stuff'. He was the 'HATCHET MAN' for
our great President, Richard Nixon, who was so famous for so many
great things, unfortunately also for the break in of the Democratic
Office Building in 13-WDC, or the WATERGATE BUILDING.
657
and 123, nineteen years have come and gone, I thought I knew most
everything, and far beyond my heart's control, were four powerful
things, these being, codes we shared so secretly, and all that's left
is our sweet song, until you showed me the songs we'd sing, and last
but by no means least; broken dreams dance rock and roll, and yes,
all this wild bullshit was more than 28 years ago, black, even, high,
and Roulette games, and I was down in Atlantic City many days in
1983, playing this great game in our wonderful casinos, in a city
that is more special on this planet than almost any other, akin
perhaps only to Nazareth in Jerusalem, and Huntington, New York; but
then, I am not allowed to tell any more shit about any of this, on
PAIN OF GRIFFIN PIPE DEATH, right Callio Callisurdo????????
Many
movers came to me and talked to me, while others simply played and
messed with me. The greatest one of all was in the summer time in the
year of 1974, over at the greatest rooming-house on the planet, on
Stenton Place, in Atlantic City, where the great Tropicana Casino
came to stand not that long after all of this other shit was born
into the cosmos. This great MOVER remains nameless, and I literally
watched him vanish, and he came out of nowhere as well. He did not to
move into another space, but into another time. He left right after
telling me, that Jimmy Hoffa's body; is behind a secret panel, in the
deep basement, or someplace in the mighty hotel on Tennessee Avenue,
called the Pittsburgh; owned by who else, but the mighty ass hole
jerk off White-Slave-King, of the 20th century; along with
his mob boss pal of Chicago-fire, Illinois, ROBERT MCGUIRE, YO. By
the way, the owner of the rooming-house was an extremely beautiful
breathtaking lad, by the name of Selena Dada. Before I ever
introduced my father to the great Frank Lombardo and other Philly
Crime boss families, who all became very good friends, and hated me
for not respecting my father enough; by warning Frank to keep his
hands in his pockets, whenever my Dad was around, WOW GEE, my dad, my
kid, I am rapidly running out of safe-hands, but then, if I had kept
the tape, the entire world might be quite a bit different right now,
and possibly short one fantastic musical artist, so we will leave all
that where it is, as opposed to MOVING anything around.
Happy
trails and happy trading. Amy's mom wanted her 'lovely' daughter and
me, to become an item. Paula didn't even let me know I had a
daughter, and kept her from me an entire lifetime. So how fair is
this world, Copyrighted Yellow-Sheets? STILL, ARE 780 CODES BEHIND
ALL OF THIS? Is the Sarah Karge (KRASSLE) Waltz of 111 years ago, why
this PITSY FONDA year; is not working out the way it should,
according to the mother fucking mathematical schedule of
1969-1980-1994-2011? As I speak, my THIRD mother fucking ANGEL OF
DEATH attack is striking me at 1:33 PM on my left (WHAT'S WRONG) ©
side, and last night, I was struck by two Morty Mortino dirt bag
attacks on my (WHAT'S WRONG) © right side,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No normal
human has any clue what is being said, only the EW, the MOVERS; and
top secret US Government branches, who must wonder why just about
now; my fellow MOVERS left me here alone and stranded, powerless; and
on my Brook Shields own and grown; to fight this shit by my pathetic
poor little fucking ass self. Not even a roll of toilet paper for all
of their strobe-light beam attacks, what do you do when you are
stranded like this, and in this condition? Should I ask the great
Mariah Carey to sing one of my very favorite songs she wrote and
sang, to me, today; called “HERO”; or just sample it off of the
tape and listen all day to it. Or should I just accept being branded,
stranded; and sitting back watching the old black and white tee-vee,
while all the while being able to discern with perfect crystal
clarity, how the MOVERS cleverly wiped out my credibility forever,
and using the great disco diva to do it, so that now, old Nick can
gather his great flock together, and do exactly what Donna warned me
would happen, when like a total fool and dummy; I then turned around
and accused her of being the bad-girl. I learned in times since this,
that even the really good girls, can still fall in love, and those
with daddy-issues; tend to pick the wildest of them all, leaving me
to know and never show, so it is back to school for me, not her, and
if this is not the epitome of ironies, I would sell the great Nicky,
my very beingness, for the great privilege of knowing, just what the
heck is? ANOTHER LEFT SIDE DEATH-ANGEL-ATTACK IS STRIKING ME NOW AT
41 MINUTES PAST ONE OF THE CLOCK. Wow is Nick pissed off at me today.
2-BAD, road-man, Paul says the Phillies are doing it again in
'oh-eleven', only we know differently, we know the west coast brings
it on this year, huh fellow? I suppose that you know that your wife
is insisting that I do three things. Ask her, the next time you get a
spare 20th, and put it into the machine; old hammer
swinger kid from 1996. By the way dude, if you stole the stuff that
night at the ice cream place, you played right into my hands with
your friend Doctor Margret Summer, of the Medical Research Institute.
I always knew she was from the Lab, and not born in my century. She
knew too much about me, way before I did; kind of like you did in
1996, you son of a Midge.
In
closing out, just as mysteriously as my agonizing sore throat came on
me, it vanished away. No time for any lethargy, only blogging; but
what was blogging in late 1983, I don't know, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Can't admit to a thousand a week either, you know, IRS, and other
things. Only trouble is, Richard Karpf of New Jersey started lots of
street talk, and this was 17 years before any flash-mobs ever got
started, or blogs, or endless repeats of high school loops and horror
show days, Beetlejuices all notwithstanding of course, so let me
PRESS ON, MISS LEE. MI, I tried my best to tell you to get away from
the chemtrails of that rotten city, and you were too busy chasing
your kitty cat. I love you, you do not have to chase me, or tell me I
cannot escape. I am always right here for you, my account is open
again, and I have numbers, but I do not want Mister Hammers to hub
cap me again. It seems only MOVING and properly fitting, that in the
early seventies, the two largest banking institutions on this planet;
were Chase, and Chemical National. You chase me, and Chemicals came
close to doing a Tower of Babylon on both of us, WOW, is this really
a grouping of crazy words, or are some mountains really full of gold,
and special minors? I will not ever try giving away great Fascitar
secrets, let alone other ten dollar gifts, for free. I do not enjoy
Robert McGuire destroying my property, or burning and or torching
other stick-stuff. You have one very dangerous distant cousin, MC;
but you know this, and I am not any longer in any position to offer
up advice, but still; I am very proud of you; and happy that you did
in fact finish up at the fields, and I saw you at your 20th
reunion there, as you know; they televised it in the summer of
oh-eight. As always, you are the most beautiful girl in the entire
place. Of course, your great family made me lose all of my most
precious possessions, this video tape being amongst these items, oh
well, great SSJKK, you are inside of me, always, that cannot be taken
from me, not even by your mighty cousin of fire. You know, he broke
the heart of one of your own peeps of yesteryear, poor little Janis.
You are nothing at all like your cousins, and I am so very proud of
you 'MY'.
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
