©
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
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
Counts
observed on Google, on 11/09/2013
*****************Profile
views: - (2,879)
NEW
BLOG PV- (268)
************Total
page hits:------- (32,934)
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?
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
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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:
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.
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Introduction
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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:
Thanx 4 everything, idea stealer terminator, CU in areas where me ol granny’ll C her wovewee daughter, whaaaa!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Posted by
Posted by
Here
comes another fucking (`~HACK) FCC Bob McDowell, sir and buddy!!!!
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:
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:
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:
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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