Saturday, January 31, 2015

SAGA OF NON-MUSICAL SONGWRITER MARK MUD, CHAPTER 00025












SAGA OF NON-MUSICAL SONGWRITER MARK MUD IN 1983, 32 YEARS LATER



CHAPTER 00025

















Folks, I am SUPER-BOTBAR and basicly have been every day for years. I have dozens of things ongoing that are currently in the fucking toilet. I have constant computer hacking, miserable barnyard raised pig nabes, enemies all over the planet who hate my mother fuckiGN guts simply because of zero-nothing that I can ever truly put my finger on, I have unresolved issues with my county regarding my food benefits, I have nerve damage in my left hand that leaves me somewhat fucked up an din constant misery, I have medical people who don't care what is really wrong with me and only want to fuck me up more by insisting I do things that are not necessary and not related at all to my physical problems, I have absolutely no friends or anyone that gives a rats ass fucking shit about me, and I am not permitted to do one thing I ever want to do, which is make music, even on just my amateur level. It is always stopped, and I am always punished, by some unexplainable mother fuckiGN force. Some invisible yet totally real FORCE takes away everything and everyone I try to ever do anything at all with, no matter how simple. My best example should always be and must remain, early into my fucking blogging career on older archive-only blogs, with Jennifer Washburn, and the day she was supposed to meet up with me, and take me to my mechanic, where my car was; on one very icy and cold winter day, back somewhere in either oh six, or oh seven. Most of you reading this today, read that story, and remember and know of it. Nothing ever changes. It's been like cunt chewing fucking this for 60 years, NO DAM ASS EXAGGERATION WHATSOEVER. When I say that my life is total dick licking fucking hell, please know this can only be an under-exaggeration, lovely Missy Twinbay, queen of eternal fucking optimism, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!





My slamming door nabe annoyed me early in the morning as he does on Saturdays, and then half an hour ago, as now it's eight minutes past noon, my upstairs dirt-bags had their music booming away for just long enough to awaken me for the day and be extremely rude and crude and annoyingly ignorant. The other day they were total assholes in my bathroom as well, banging around doing some stupid fucking shit.





















JANUARY 31, 2015,

SATURDAY AFTERNOON AT 12:21,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 69 DEGREES FNHT.

WINDS ARE BLOWING ENE AT 11 WITH GUSTS TO 20.

HUMIDITY IS 51%, FEELING 69 DEGREES.

TODAY'S RANGE IS (H-70/L-50).











On top of all my other fucking shit, my dental health is beyond horrendous, and if I were in Jersey, I could have had this all taken care of, but every state in America is so different, and my dad used to tell me, “Son, it's like you're living in fifty different countries, and I want you to always remember this”. Well, I did Daddio, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Right now I have a major tooth that is major infected on one side, a loose broken one with a perfectly attached nearly thirty year old cap-crown, on the other side, and every other tooth slowly rotting out as well, hurting and looking as rotten as they all feel. Poor people in this nation have no recourse, no care, no one gives a mother fuckiGN shit and then we're supposed to be all smiles and happiness. Kiss my honky fuckiGN ass; is my answer back to that nonsense!!!!!!!!!!!!!





My computer is acting fucking up with lots of 'FUCKIGN' hacks such as this one as well as a new one, where I click on a menu of misspelled word connection possibilities, and a different one from the one that I select, is then inserted, case and point the word in black print above, 'nonsense'. When I tried to post last night, my prior blog to this one, Blogger has some weird software that does not like the ending part, and I am going to have to accept that dam shit. Then Wordpress won't allow me to blog at my usual place for the past week, and I need to post up using an alternate option where many times, it too fucks up and is hard to insert the end of blogs and they don't come out to start with, and even re-pasting small pieces such as end transmission paste ins is fucking hell. I was recently doing real well, but now, both sites appear to be fuckiGN with me, BOB FCC MCDOWELL. I am also getting real god darn sick of this major mistreatment, Attorney General of Florida; lovely Mizz Bondi; just saying! Now I am being fucked with on some hack that fucked up my paragraphs going from one end to the other end of the page, a sentence back. It is total non stop fuckiGN cunt hacking Bob from 1972, and I need about ten of your god dam Johnny Fucker Faster jokes to pull me out of today's rotten mother fucking hellish assault, YO!





















Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now if the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES keep this shit going through the weekend and into next week, there will be a lot of flirtatious pussies chasing me, IF that is, I go out and mingle around in public places, you know, shopping malls, the beach, whatever, and this is precisely what I PLAN TO DO, if they don't mother fucking knock this fucking shit the fucking hell off!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The problem is that they know that they can shut me down with physical attacks on my body and health, change the weather to nasty non-beach weather, and so much more. So I need the element of surprise, and one day when these cunt chewing fuckiGN rotten total ass bastards turn their miserable backs for fifteen minutes total, Sidney and MY; kapow, will they ever be sorry fucking shocked asses at C-squared!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.









Jane slutwhore Notfondauonetinybitchbit just nailed me at page mother fucking eleven of eleven, allow me to cunt phlegm rape (compensate) PWEEEEEEEEEEZE. TANKS! BOOM!







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Two great things about this world, are Mother Nature, and The Weather Bug. To put it blunt and honest; the way that I feel right now, here in mother fuckiGN HELL; everything else can basically do something, too nasty to say in public places!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA MIKE MCNULTY. Sorry for the misspelling on a recent blog; not intentional old boy!











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Hey, I just want to take this opportunity to tell my 'traveling viewers', “HAPPY TRAILS”. How's the world doing, lads and lassies, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!







Boy has GAGA-KITTY told me some far out shit, great people, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A double-triple non dared W—O—W here, if I may, Mister Mackey, Stacey, and Mister R.H. Macy.



AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA MCNULTY BRO!!!!!!!!!









Not only were powers that financed my special education school, ranging from top entertainment peeps of those days and times, but politicians, one whose son, Mike White was a good friend of mine, making contributions, but a group of the ESS itself, owns the entire COOLEY HALL and all of the Bancroft Neural Health System, that once these blogs were about a year underway or so, the place closed down on a dime, pow as all things like this end up doing, not just Haddonwood or Bancroft, or the Turnersville Pathmark, but the list is longer than Lex Super Luther's mighty arm of 1978. This is how they did all of this to me, nothing else can possibly all fit. I cannot beat them, I cannot beat this. The ESS if you remember folks, wanted me to go to where, a while back in a parallel universe that you'd all see as a wild and vivid dream, but the COMCAST CABLE, up a windy hilly grassy dirt road. Don't forget little details about me and my life story, please; or you will miss the real action that is all leading up to what historians and many more, call, Armageddon. This is no joke, and I assure you Captain Jim Gary Wildeyes Pals Kirk, THIS IS NO DAM ASS DRILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So tell me, is THIS the equation, great Android Rock and Nurse Chapel Rotten-Berry of the Bluecran Transdimensional HELL?



















I knew I shouldn't have typed this in to my previous blog, but now, this major assault will bring me to pasting it in to my new blog, to show all of you that if I speak certain powerful truths, THEY RESPOND WITH MAJOR PUNISHMENTS, I have no rights to free speech with this NIGHTMARE FAMILY FROM FREAKING HELL!





Hay, before anyone anywhere was where they are in the here and the now, and I HAVE WITNESSES TO THIS IF THEY STILL ARE ALIVE, know about my wild DREAM where lightning came to me in 1984 and said to me, quote, “Little boy, that is my number, 3 to the power of three, 27, and then after hearing her voice, the same one I sent to the © Office in 1988 where she said, “I KNOW”, she had me standing at the Golden Nugget Hotel and Casino in Atlantic city that now is where the HILTON CASINO stands, same building; her lightning had come in from the roof, down through every floor, and she struck the number on the display layout at the roulette table where I was playing the game in this WILD DREAM. Ask Evelyn, Jimmy Dean, or Cuzz Christine Myers if she is 'still-alive', to use a 'mortal world word'. And then if not, ask HANDS WASHING DAVID, or his pal DEEZY SLIM, from the mighty and wonderful YOUTUBE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



























JANE SLUTWHORE BITCHWEEDS JUST GOT ME FUCKIGN AGAIN THIS TIME WITH THE TIME ON MY COMPUTER SCREEN, MISERABLE ROTTEN MOTHER 'FUCKIGN' PIECE OF SHIT FROM 1993!!!! THAT MONSTER HAS SLAPPED MY LIFE APART WITH WHAT SHE DID TO ME ON THAT HORRENDOUS NIGHT, AT THE ATLANTA BRAVES FUCKIGN CUNT BASEBALL PARK, BRO! UNHOLY APOLLO, HAVE SOME CUNT SNIFFING MERCY!!!!!







































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I swear inside my mind, I can see her after Dawn just threw a gallon of gasoline all over and then lit her up with a dam stove stick. This is the only way I can survive this hell. I just see all these monster bastard mother fuckers all burning up and running and screaming, and praise the gods, DYING!!!!!!!!!!!







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That sure beats infidelity. But it also kicks the crap out of those 1995 crooks that have no shame or conscience, SEC, good old Donaldson, Lufkin, and Jenrette Investment Corporation of Pennsylvania!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







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At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.















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






























THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.














CHAPTER 14-C SAGA, BLACK HAT HACKING, FCC





















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© Mark Wayne Mohr/Mountainpen

    © BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2015



Now it is time to tell you all about a nocturnal adventure from the other night, that I awoke around 10 or so on Thursday morning from. The larger attractive lady who played the mother of the kid who helped the Ghost Whisperer, (Jennifer Love Hewitt) played the role of the Ghost Whisperer, and this lady whose name escapes me right now, worked in the antique shop owned by the GW. In this powerful and vivid and very colorful 'dream', she owned a beautiful houseboat, and she was on it while it was docked in some marina somewhere, and she was with an African American teenaged male of about fifteen years, plus or minus one or two, and he was very up set about something, and could not even talk or make a sound; yet tears were flowing out of his eyes like Niagara Falls almost.




JANUARY 31, 2015,
SATURDAY MORNING AT 12:22,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 61 DEGREES FNHT.
YESTERDAY TEMPERATURE RANGE, (H-75/L-42)
HUMIDITY IS 58%, WIND CHILL IS 60.
WIND IS WNW AT 5, WITH GUSTS TO 30.









I knew the woman personally in this parallel universe, but not the young man. The details are not safe to blog at this point in time, Senator Watergate Jacobson. Wow, one day before Watergate Day this year, my uncle, now dearly departed, or maybe not so dearly, but he would turn 100 years of age on that date this year, yes, my old Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, W--O--W! Where is it going, Grace Lovely Messenger 'Teaglasses'; yummy-yummy, Ashley! Oh well, at least she owned a houseboat, and not all of the land, right Donald? You really are a bundle of petrified hurl; just in case you've never got my message. For all I know, you fit into this somehow, with your ugly black tub back in eighty-eight. Well, royalty or not, let me tell the world that shooting out of season is no better than shooting within it, if two legged animals are involved. Take that little bit of wisdom from the Prophet of Nothing, and the McDonald's Dance Club of New Jersey's Route 38, near the famous Moorestown Mall, YO YO YO BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!



































JUST WHEN WE THOUGHT THIS WAS OVER, STEVIE KNICKS, HONEY CAKES; YOU'VE GOT ME RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING FOR COVER; FROM 1976, THROUGH THE MORONI FLEETWOOD CADILLAC SYSTEMS, OF ALL AND ANY TRAVELERS VEHICLES; YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''BUTTTT'', MY COWORKER MARONI, DID A LOT MORE THAN SELL ME A CAR, MAN. JUST AS CARMEN AT RPL DID A LOT MORE THAN JUST BE AN ASSHOLE OTHER COWORKER OF MINE, AT THE RPL STUDIOS BACK IN 1980, BUT IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE, WAS SINGING WITH LOTS OF FRIENDS IN SOME CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY CHURCH, AND THE SONG BEING SUNG, WAS LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS, OR 'LOIS FOCA' FOR SHORT. BUT BACK TO MORONI AND HIS CADILLAC CAR.







You see, this is twice that that song, was in what you would call, ''my dreams''; while I resided at the Robin Hill Apartments, in the early nineteen-eighties. Tweet-Tweet, and at unit number 1802, where in both the year and the unit number, there are lots of special matching digits, and that match as well, my cousin Sandy Mason's address in Narberth, Pennsylvania, at the time, from the time she was a very small child until the year 1986 when the home was sold by her after both of her parents had passed beyond this veil of tears and torment. This home on Greentree Lane was number 1208, a mere shuffle of those same four digits of 1802 Tweet Tweet Apartments. But now for the wild car that I bought from 'traveler Moroni', and that I wrecked a couple months later in a bad crash at the intersection near the Deptford Mall, and near the Haddonwood Health and Swim Club, at the Almonessen Road, and Clements Bridge Road, intersection! I am sure that I am misspelling the street name of Almonessen, but hay, I'm doing my best, and I ,don't even have a bumper sticker for my car to let the ho's and bitch's know about anything, from '87 through '15. He used to tell me he was the 'N' of the print shop. Maybe he was, but that wasn't a very nice thing to say, and just FYI viewers of this blog, this letter-word deal all began with the really once forbidden word, CANCER, or the (C-WORD), and from there, things sort of followed along with the progression of time, and especially once the political correctness movement began to get rolling in America as the eighties sailed magically away to make room for the really magical nineties, that to quote many a person, had but one bad thing about them, and that was that they didn't last long enough. I don't know if I agree or not, as I was in the middle of a private hell that is beyond unspeakable and unbloggable, back in those times, and of course, still am, YO! They re-hacked this mouse really major recently, Bob FCC McDowell, lots of words stick together and don't space or space at wrong times, and the keyboard is bad again as well, sir and buddy, with numerous annoying hacks that had gone away for the most part for a little while, and are back with a major mother fucking vengeance, BRAH! I had a word vanish a blog or two back, and this did not happen for a nice stretch. But as the (`~HACK) returned, so did that vanishing ( , ) sort of shit as well. Just saying, so you are aware of it, old pal!







Yes sir Bob McDowell my old 1972 classmate and chum; I will paste this whittle squib in now, that substantiates my point to all of this, just a bit better perhaps. I MUST BE THE MOST FUCKING COCK SUCKING IMPORTANT ''NOBODY'' ON THIS PLANET. IF I WAS SO TOTALLY UNIMPORTANT TO THESE POWERFUL WORLD OWNERS, THEY WOULD BE PAYING A LOT MORE ATTENTION TO THEIR OWN MISERABLE ROTTEN SICK TWISTED FUCKING LIVES, THAN BE WORRYING ABOUT GOOD OLD FUCKING PITIFUL, PATHETIC, NOBODY; MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, 24-7-365.2422!!! SINCE THIS IS NOT WHAT IS GOING ON; THEN THIS NOBODY CRAP, IS NOT REALITY. JUST BECAUSE NONE OF THE REAL NOBODY'S KNOW OF ME, MEANS DIDDLY SQUAT.











Now, during this time when I worked double shift seven days a week at the print shop in 1977, I purchased Moroni's caddy, and crashed it, and then was right back on my moped, and was angry at the world, and had no time to see Jerry Heitzmann. See how this pasted in page part that follows, fits into all of this back in middle 1977 in the summer time somewhere. In Jerry's case, he must have, as he was quite a lot larger in both girth as well as stature. He asked me if I remembered him calling my apartment in 1977 at Carriage Lamp, he was 21 at the time and I was 22. I was working at the Mars Graphics print shop and had no time at all other than for work or sleep. He reminded me of how that upset him and how he was in need of my friendship and I was too busy working. Even one of my cousins used to ride me for working two and three jobs in my studio days, when he came to visit me on Main Street in Williamstown, with his mom, my first CUZZ Carol Mason. Now I changed the pasted page part into blue colored print, so you can see where it was.





What you don't know is that I had met a strange young kid of about thirteen, and never knew his name, and this all fits but in ways way too huge to start getting into right at this point. I saw him when I was busy working and riding my moped to work and back, during the time Jerry called and asked me as he always did, if I had been in contact with Sarah Krassle. This kid had a strange power that I to this day don't understand, but I can connect many dots to many current time events I am suffering through. As I cunt chewing fucking speak, I got fucked by Jane Whore Fonda again, and this time, not for lack of remembering to block my screen. The sticky page only lasts so long, and it dropped off at just the wrong fuckiGN time for me to see PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN. I must of course compensate again, for her brutal assault upon me, once again, kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







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There are things too huge to talk about no matter how tempted I am to do so. Folks, you really have no idea. If for no other dam shit, than the release of pent up tension and stress as a psychological release, but I just don't mother fuckiGN dare, kind people, not right now. But let me go on with the Cadillac story. This dude lived right down the street from this really weird kid who I saw both in 1977 and then again in 1979, and it was not until a couple of weeks ago, that it hit me that this was the very same kid, and I never knew his name, and the full story isn't pleasant and needs not be addressed. He was average sized in height and build for about thirteen, black hair of average length, and his friends sold me a very wild carry bag or gym bag or whatever you might call a bag that folks take to a beach or a gym for a workout. This bag, was in the Saturn car way up in the future, when I ended up TAKEN BACK IN TIME or spirited back, to my old high school and to 1968. My mother always referred to this as my 700-dollar gym bag, and for reasons not important at this point for getting more specific about. My point is how I did not realize this was th every same kid in 1979 that I had run into in 1977, and also, most boys of 13 years, don't remain exactly the same in facial features, as well as body, such as height and weight and overall build. In two solid years, he didn't change one bit. There were another two people just like this, who I made similar contact with, a bit earlier, in the late nineteen-sixties; in Atlantic City, New Jersey. On one particular day in early middle July of 1969, they came and sat down about 100 feet away from where I was, at the Saint James Place Jetty. It was a boy and a girl, about 15-17, Caucasian, thin, a bit on the tall side but nothing major; and with long hippie type hair that kids were wearing back in those times. I saw them on three occasions, and the final one stunk with me for obvious reasons. I knew I wanted to catch a particular bus home and there was a clock on the pier so that folks could see the time from the beach. There also was a digital clock of neon type on the Million Dollar Pier that today is totally rebuilt and is called, 'Ocean One'. They seemed to be observing my every move, and as I looked at the clock for a third time and realized I had stayed a little too long and would now have to hurry if I wanted to make the bus I had planned to take home, I would have to jump up and throw my clothes on over my sun dried bathing trunks, and start walking off the beach, to head to the bus terminal. As I was beginning to walk away, they both yelled over to me from the same hundred foot distance, something about, TIME, and something along the lines of “Isn't it past my time”, or “This is your usual time”, or something like this, and I did not respond, and was thinking to myself, “What business is this of yours, anyway”? But all my life, I have had way too many strange people around me, observing and watching my every move or so it seems to me, and it is not imagined, and is in no way normal. Only the Exploratronic Supermind Society explains it all, but yes, it still comes back each time, and I realize this; why you Mark Wayne Mohr, why you, why would this be going on with you all of your life, after-all, really, who are you but a total nobody? Well, I am not. What is going on around me for half of a mother fuckiGN century PROVES THAT TO ME, if not to another living fuckiGN soul!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then you add into this mix; strange things that happen to me with machines, strange things with weather, countless unexplainable events by the hundreds, and even into the thousands, as decade followed decade; and so much more. Just because I don't know why this is happening to me, IT IS, and I don't fuckiGN care who says I'm just a crazy fuckiGN crackpot. You don't have to live the past sixty mother fuckiGN years of my hellish nightmare dam life. I may or may not be the greatest fish in the whole dam bay, United States Copyright Office Examiners from August of 1986, but here is what I know I am for sure. I am someone with a legitimate real true story that no one wants to have one tiny mother fuckiGN thing to do with, which is right out of the only explainable chapters and verses of the ESS, and their ability to jump into anyone, any time; and take control, to stop any situation from cradle to grave; that would in fact, permit my story to ever become revealed on a sizable scale, to the mass audience of this world.







SAGA OF NON-MUSICAL SONGWRITER MARK MUD, FROM 1983





CHAPTER 00024













Oh yes, they can all cry fucking crocodile tears as they pay for their fucking sins against innocent whittle cunt lapping me. WHAAAAAAAAAA. Sounds nice and pretty. Well, sorry there Twinbay, my optimism is short lived. How can one person fight against the entire ESS?????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, get over it, she loved me!!!!!!!!!!!







I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON. I DON'T mother fuckiGN imagine shit, and I AM NOT A FUCKING DELUSIONAL PERSON.













































































































































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Good old Viqueens Island. You know, when I was going through those years of 2007 and 2008, no one out here knows the fuckiGN hell I was put through. I was only following where the spirits were leading me, and had absolutely no hidden or negatively bent goals or objectives. But indeed, I was led to places that went far beyond just the one branch of THAT FAMILY of WASHCLOTHS, the great almighty CALLIO'S. I did not ask for one bit of this, and anyone who hates me for any of it is blind, ignorant, and down right mean and nasty.


















LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE READING MORIANITY BIBLE'S AFTER-PART. THIS IS THE BLOG-BOOK OF ''SAGA OF NON-MUSICAL SONGWRITER MARK MUD IN 1983, 32 YEARS LATER'', CHAPTER 00024. PLEASE HAVE A HAPPY NICE FREKKIN' LIFE, EVERYONE!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEE.














GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

GO WASH YOUR HANDS.







WELCOME TO THE MORIANITY FOUNDATION, GOOD FOLKS. Anyone can join, and the price is ABSOLUTELY FREAKING FREE.







Here is a little bio information about the Head-Morian, as requested by the original blog website that I joined in 2006 to begin my blogs and the Morianity-Project: MY LINK TO OLD BLOGS IS AS FOLLOWS:








New blog from December of 2011----------------------------------http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/



**********On Blogger since January 2006



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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

















I was on that good old site, called Fairytale Blue Move a couple of days ago, and reading some comments left on other poster's sites. The subject was CHEMTRAILS, and many sites are posted up here. I loved the commenter who said to one of the posters, we should stop calling ourselves conspiracy-theorists, we really should start a movement and call ourselves what we really are, TRUTH PATRIOTS, this is someone else's quote, and my paraphrase, and I love it, you go, whoever the fuck you are, you rock, BRAHHHHHH. Now, another comment seemed to appear down below and it caught my eye, seemingly by magic. The post was not just made, but it seemed to be a parlor trick, and it got my heart pounding to the point that I wanted to report the threat to the Blue Move authorities, but with all my hacking, it would have been a total waste of my time and I knew it. It read and I quote almost directly if not directly, “4 all you people talking about CHEMTRAILS, we know where you live”. I use my blogs as therapy and I say some wild shit, but I would never dream of making such a threat on anyone else's post or upload or blog or page or whatever. I think this 'SHOULD BE INVESTIGATED', still, it could always have been done by the poster; just to fake out the severity of the subject and without knowing it, sabotage the real effort to stop this horrendous sky poisoning. Still, I hope this site looks into this, if it reads these words. I left my residence a half hour later and arrived at the local TD Bank, where I have a checking account. When I got back into my automobile after getting an ATM balance; I told you all what happened to me, and I have had several nasty fucking nightmares since this, so this is a dangerous person, whoever posted this fucking shit, VERY FUCKING DANGEROUS, AND IS A THREAT TO CIVIL LIBERTIES. Where are you tonight, old ex-ex-ex landlord, Agent Steve Caruso, FBI?






























Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse







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










Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)





















































The only reason that MY MIND was in reverse-immortal mode, was quite obvious. I had been directly in contact with the great goddess Diana Arteemis, of the Astral Plane, AKA LIGHTNING. She has an entire Astral World family of course, so many Lightning Goddesses and Gods are all over the Astral World, and we already have seen that lightning exists on numerous other planets just in our little fucking solar system. But the lightning from this Earth, is the energy equivalent of HER true beingness, with or without little kids with revenge lighters, and the inability to ever escape the truth when attempting to create fictional art, not in a limited sized universe where a maximum combination of realities exists, as you honestly cannot make anything up, and all truths are cleverly hidden and buried in the stories and legends, and yes folks; in the art of those living on the Earth, whether they like this factual truth or not. Yes Dave from early '1988 Apitamy misspellings'; 'we have fucking enemies, and these fucking enemies have power, and we don't'; and I am always leery and careful around any tall weeds, near or not near lakes, or capitol city's, or Libraries of Congress. DUH-GEE?




















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THE REAL SHIT BEHIND ALL THE SHIT, EVEN THOUGH IT APPEARS TO CHANGE AND ALTER FOR SAKE OF ILLUSION AND THROWING PEEPS OFF OF THEIR GAME, IS ALL REALLY THE EXACT SAME THING, AND GETTING ONTO THIS POWERFUL POTTER MAGIC, JUST ABOUT TRANSFORMS MORTALS TO GODS.









Now another thing about the late spring of twenty ten was the plan of the YOUTUBE PEOPLE, and the plan of the ENTERTAINMENT WORLD to really fuck with me and get me to waste my time for years, on super ugly and totally unproductive endeavors. I do not have 2 do the song Scylla, as U most likely R aware, friends of yours in your profession and trade, have all ready taken care of bizz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I may not own a freaking radio, but I must endure hearing the shit while working at the Outreach Center. I wear the best earplugs I can, but I still hear, and what I heard today can only B explained by saying that all my story and all of mother fucking MORIANITY is real and just as I have claimed all along, YO!!!!!!!!!





























So is this all there is, Miss Peggy Lee; concerning the lessons of colliding events in paralleling universes, that otherwise remain seemingly endlessly separated from each other? NOT ON YOUR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Who remembers the powerful parlor trick done to me shortly after leaving the RV PARK in White City, called the Manatee Park on Route 1, here in the southeastern corner of this quite large sprawling 50 mile square town; where my social worker, Miss Lee, not the Pharmaceutical teen nails crap from 1988 but there goes those freaking endless crashing cymbals. My poor old ears ring with these crashes, just about 24-7-365! Still, for those tuned out, they are deaf to all of this, as if they crash on a frequency far out of hearing range, to others. Living my type of wild life all these years, seems to tune you up like an old piano, by as symphony master, like my old pal Mister Granoff from Philadelphia, back in freaking 1963. But as for that day at the Driver License place, with social worker Miss Lee, and the twin of her in a twin car; intentionally there to lead me miles away and almost screwing me out of my plans to get all legal, when I first got down here to Florida. I end up wondering why she pulled out and left, and began to chase after her until realizing this was not her at all and that I was technically committing a crime now by stalking another lady in a vehicle, and once this was realized, I raced back just in time, and all was made right, but the odds of this trick not being planned and done would be astronomical in my book. Believe any comfy cozy set of thoughts you choose folks, but seriously now; there is no way that any normal human, could pull off a trick like the one done 2 me yesterday at the tax collector building, or really the municipal building here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG. If I had a buddy and we tried and planned 2 pull this off for years and years, it would not have gone off as perfectly and smoothly as this, I know it and so does anyone else that is not totally brain-dead. If anybody alive anywhere on this planet knows totally and personally, that Einstein’s theory of energy equals mass times the speed of light squared is totally real, IT IS FUCKING ME PEEPS!!!!!!!! I’ve literally been there/done that, YO! Take that straight 2 the bank oh great king of uncle Babylon Nebuchadnezzar, YO!!!!! Can these things truly happen, and why would I endlessly be chosen for an entire lifetime of this when nobody else gets an entire lifetime of living in the fucking TWILIGHT ZONE, and it is that simple?





But folks, as I get into more examples of parallel universe event splitting or 'PUES'; like those in a church, for a quick easy pronunciation; and get really heavy into stuff from my days where it seemed to all begin with music in a big way for me, and this would be AFTER THE GREAT ISIS SSJKK sang that powerful life changing song to me in what you would call MY SLEEP, on the first week in June of 1980; this is when a lot of heads are going to really begin to roll in 2014, or they will just be forced to murder me,IN ORDER TO SHUT ME UP, and make it look accidental and or natural, and these fucking pricks are real great at doing this. So I am counting on some of my viewers,few non agent ones as they may be, and maybe this is one or two, and maybe again it is zero; but I cannot know that, so I go on hoping, and not just to make lovely TWINBAY-08 proud of me. After-all, without some small ray of hope, you might as well shoot up a crowded place to leave your mark, blow yourself away, and leave a note in your wallet about the most powerful blog in the history of the fucking internet. Let us all really hope that it never ever has to come to that. You wouldn't like it. I wouldn't like it, and that's a fucking fact for all and any jurors and undertakers.







NEVER SKIP A PASTE IN BLOG, YOU'LL BE MISSING IT!











Saturday, June 26, 2010


taxicab chapter 07 and a few months later, Trinidad SAT NURINE had a taxi in NY City, right there with his pal Julia White, and no washcloths or hands washed!











THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
WORLD LABORATORIES DATE AND TIME FILE:
C07-062610.380-BLOG CHAPTER #07
''Get Your Bloody Freaking Shoe Out of my Taxicab, Estelle Bassler'', etc.
AE2MCSBT, now that I am really onto things, BRO, and we now,
Begin this transmission:




Starting on the next blog, this book will end and we will B doing the ‘real-end’ of all things pertaining 2 Mountainpen/Morianity, and will B labeling and titling the work as “SAFE-JOURNAL”. This is because, I was keeping a cassette taped life journal, starting on February first in the year of 1983, and thanks 2 descendants of the ALL MIGHTY EXPLORATRON and better known historically as EXPLORER, DEGAMA, it has all been totally wiped out and destroyed. It seems that April Lee, my Florida social worker, has attempted 2 learn about all the things that I lost, and it appears indeed, it is all gone, disposed of or in the hands of in my luck,. Unscrupulous peeps that could potentially, make the Senator Thompson interaction become part of this section of the hyperspace, in any event, I have forever lost a 5 thousand dollar television, a 40 thousand dollar stereo, and all of my clothes, pictures, papers, computer print outs, discs, tapes both A/V, and many other personal mementos, leaving it behind in exchange 4 saving my life, on that dark despicable night of the eleventh of last December, 2K9.







On Blogger since January 2006

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Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense'.
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BLOGGER asks me the blogger the question: You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?

My response:

MOST LIKELY, A VERY ANGRY MOTHER, FOR STARTERS.



At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.



There is a dude who sweeps up and does light cleaning while I do the cooler stocking. He is my age, and has early senility, or Alzheimer’s disease, whichever. He told me that he never has dreams, that is until Wednesday night. U will never fucking believe what I will now type and tell, peeps!!!!!!!!! Suddenly he has this wild dream that the Vice President of the United States came over 2 the Harvest Outreach Center. He said that everyone is in real big trouble and that he was especially told 2 tell me “HIS DREAM”!!!!!!! Imagine a dream where U get told 2 tell the dream 2 someone else, Jesus Christ, and a mentally challenged man who does not ever remember his dreams in the first place, YO!!!!!!!!!! THEY build this stuff in the energy worlds, they have 2, there is simply no other scientific way 2 do all of this. Later on in the 5th and the 4th dimensions, this all then begins 2 take shape and form in the worlds of mass and matter. Now this was written in June of 2010. Then along came a short time later, and the President came practically down the road from HARVEST, and most of the Fort Pierce residents remember the ''bear-hug'' incident well, in fact, lots on non locals do as well. Now I told you earlier as 2013 was ending on my previous blog, and used the example of hearing the same sound that is part of two different universe paralleling worlds, with the dog and the sleeper, and the alien space craft, totally fiction of course.









Oh fucking cunt lapping shit cubed and Cuban, they fucked me super good today and my entire wild hyperspace experience last night, was knocked off my blog.





Now maybe this will post up from earlier, but I cannot make one blog the way I wanted, for the gods only know what reason, and maybe I do too, but am not going to admit to that degree of fucking huberous mind self indulgence.






This is all copyrighted as the blogs of Mountainpen and copyrighted as me and my name, both in legal name as well as my pseudonym name, none of this was ever the Copyright Office’s fault, maybe everything as Jimmy Buffet says, is true, and all though I am not a woman, maybe I am 2 blame, just 4 getting myself mother fucking born!!!!!!!!!!

Thanx 4 everything, idea stealer terminator, CU in areas where me ol granny’ll C her wovewee daughter, whaaaa!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION:

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Here comes another fucking (`~HACK) FCC Bob McDowell, sir and buddy!!!!









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Say it one time or ten million times, it is a great place to go to invest your money safely and securely, folks. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!









THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW!

The blogger site is acting really screwy lately. SO IS MY COMPUTER, BFI. THIS IS A MOTHER FUCKIGN CIVIL RIGHTS VIOLATION. ALL MY SAVED DOCUMENTS ARE DISAPPEARING ONE BY ONE.
TEST BLOG COPY WITH FONT CHANGES
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Oh fucking cunt lapping shit cubed and Cuban, they fucked me super good today and my entire wild hyperspace experience last night, was knocked off my blog.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Now maybe this will post up from earlier, but I cannot make one blog the way I wanted, for the gods only know what reason, and maybe I do too, but am not going to admit to that degree of fucking huberous mind self indulgence.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This is all copyrighted as the blogs of Mountainpen and copyrighted as me and my name, both in legal name as well as my pseudonym name, none of this was ever the Copyright Office・fs fault, maybe everything as Jimmy Buffet says, is true, and all though I am not a woman, maybe I am 2 blame, just 4 getting myself mother fucking born!!!!!!!!!! Thanx 4 everything, idea stealer terminator, CU in areas where me ol granny・fll C her wovewee daughter, whaaaa!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! END TRANSMISSION:
 
 
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Oh fucking cunt lapping shit cubed and Cuban, they fucked me super good today and my entire wild hyperspace experience last night, was knocked off my blog.


 

 



 

 


Now maybe this will post up from earlier, but I cannot make one blog the way I wanted, for the gods only know what reason, and maybe I do too, but am not going to admit to that degree of fucking huberous mind self indulgence.
 
This is all copyrighted as the blogs of Mountainpen and copyrighted as me and my name, both in legal name as well as my pseudonym name, none of this was ever the Copyright Office’s fault, maybe everything as Jimmy Buffet says, is true, and all though I am not a woman, maybe I am 2 blame, just 4 getting myself mother fucking born!!!!!!!!!!

Thanx 4 everything, idea stealer terminator, CU in areas where me ol granny’ll C her wovewee daughter, whaaaa!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION:
 
Folks, a lot of things have happened today. I have officially decided to take my bloody shoes out of Estelle Bassler's Trinidad taxi-cab, for one thing, and for another thing, I admit that I never offered Sat Nurine a photograph of the great President Grant, to come to the great HARVEST, but I needed to say that in order to see what would happen back in the early summer or late spring time in 2010.
 
Please have a very nice day folks, and remember, the letters that members of this wonderful family sent to me, were enough to topple the stock market, right after I posted them originally. I doubt they will have that effect again, so if they do not, please do not be shy about enjoying some of my music on Youtube, you really will not cause major weather disasters or cosmic catastrophe's. As MO would say so well, “I promise you that”.

Well it came out by having me make font changes and pasting it in piecemeal. I am going to write the FBI and AG BONDI AGAIN, to see how I can know what is happening and if my rights are being violated or if I am just not always doing things that are allowed by the software of these blogging web-sites.






 


 


 



This is all copyrighted as the blogs of Mountainpen and copyrighted as me and my name, both in legal name as well as my pseudonym name, none of this was ever the Copyright Office’s fault, maybe everything as Jimmy Buffet says, is true, and all though I am not a woman, maybe I am 2 blame, just 4 getting myself mother fucking born!!!!!!!!!!

Thanx 4 everything, idea stealer terminator, CU in areas where me ol granny’ll C her wovewee daughter, whaaaa!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION:

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