SAGA
OF NON SONGWRITER MARK MUD,
CHAPTER
00022
I will be pasting
in Chapters 14-20 of this blog book, to this document file, as it has
been hacked off the system by either black hat hacking bastards, or
else, I am unaware of some part of this system where the files got
moved to. It is not lost, and this is why I keep blogging to any kind
of a cloud like blogger sites, for no other reason, than to protect
my life record from vanishing away by my mother fucking Milituforce
enemies.
JANUARY
30, 2015,
FRIDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:07,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 46 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 87%, WINDS ARE CALM.
Many
things are going to be fucked with, memories, machines, weather
patterns, and much more. When the ESS is major active as opposed to
being more center averaged, lots of things inside these hyperspace
dreams, get moved around. Picture it a lot like some small toddlers
playing in a nursery school, with lots of toys all over the place.
Suddenly, more than the usual amount of little tikes, for whatever
reason, enter this room and begin to play with the other 'regulars'.
GET IT?????????????
Major
retaliation will be done by what I tell you all now, and if needed,
I'll drive around thumb tacking this URL on any public boards in
local shopping stores and laundromats just to pick up some fresh new
people the old fashion way this this poor old fucking bastard sixty
year old has no clue how to fucking shit online. The fucking blog
sites won't allow my photos to come back, so unless I hook up my
printer-scanner and pay the Staples guru to get it re-scanned and
somehow back into my document files, it will be hacked out, and is
why the stock market got its way yesterday, through what else, but
ICPE-APE-TECH, used against poor defenseless little pathetic
Mountainpen. I was going to only go as far as I left off, at least
for a while, but now I am going to go well past the original planned
route, to get my fucking revenge for this hack attack, my old 1972
pal from Cooley-Wormhole Hall of Haddonfield, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG,
Bob McDowell, Chairman-Director
or similar title, of the Federal
Communications Commission! Also, I very much need to publicly
thank HIS
HOLINESS by the way, not Bob; but the great Pope; as he
must have prayed for me, regarding that super annoying Morty Mortino.
Thank you beyond words. He is much less annoying ever
since!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And
to all of you power hungry TAWF-ESS Otammites and Lambrigg Cultists,
responsible for destroying my originally kept life journal, starting
back on
February 1, 1983; just a little reminder here for you,
YO. Nothing is ever ever ever ever ever really gone. A million years
from now when the technology is beyond the concept of any of you
roaches, they can pop a million light years away from the Earth in
any direction, and take a sort of 'time snap shot', just as the light
is arriving there, right Squire Garth Trilane Trek-900. Cave day
words for this advanced super high tech is the Akashic Recording
System, found in many powerful hidden religions, such as Buddhism,
Rosicrucian, and Eckankar, to name the top end. You all just think
you will get away with doing all of this mother fuckiGN shit tome
since AUGUST 15, 1986, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
last week has been very light on the MAYO and the MYO-2012, and very
heavy on the nocturnal-interactions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ann King and my
father have been huge hyper time involved in a lot of recent shit.
The other night, my dad was doing some really horrible shit to me,
and the night before that, Ann was calling me and threatening to fuck
me all up. Dave Roth used to say, if this is what we can look forward
to in death, this spirit out of body hell we both endure, aint that
grand as shit? That's a quote. Well, back then, I did not have all of
my fuckiGN cunt dots properly assimilated. Spirit or Astral-Plane
existence just simply is. From this, we dream down into many
countless split parts of our larger self that no single reality could
ever contain in a lower dimension of caporial life. So we enter the
hyperspace in five dimensions. One of them is the hyperspace part of
all the other non awake parts. The simple truth is that I did not
understand that concept fully back then, but do now. If you ever died
in a 'dream' as I have on countless occasions, or really said better,
if you remember doing this, as I assure you that you have all done it
bazillions of dam times; you will see that life simply moves on
somewhere else even though this same you is you, there where you were
dreaming and here where you now woke up in. Exactly why you
transferred in the fifth dimension is a lot like why you do it in the
fourth, that Buddhists call reincarnation. Not fully understanding
it, they are only partially getting this picture, I assure all of
you. Still, why do we sit down and begin to think any thoughts?
Really, what are thoughts? More really, where does MIND come from?
The answer is that this realm exists and is from the vantage point of
5-D hyperspace, one dimension above us on the (sixth-dimension). This
mind creates probes of incredible entity-beings that then go on to
awaken on a huge unfathomable arena that many occultists label as the
Astral-Plane. From here, after enough energy is expended through
virtually unlimited interaction, eventually, these beings fall asleep
and dream down into all of this and all of us. To explain why the
MIND REALM does exactly what it does and is what it is, goes quite a
bit beyond both Mountainpen's Blogs, and the mighty Dawn-Marie King!
As the real beings that we are, David Charles Roth, I promise you we
are not suffering at all. Suffering, as well as blissful marvelous
non-trumped existence; is only measurable here in the hyperspace.
But
that is not the shit I am going to tell about in retaliation for what
was done to me. THIS IS. Just because I have blogged all about the
murder/suicide in my family, up in Braintree, Massachusetts, back in
February of 1948; does not mean I have really tied a lot of super
shit all together. As you know, 2008 kind of fucking side-tracked me
a bit from where these blogs were going, and gee willagars gash darn
it © Office 1989, harassment epitome's all notwithstanding, I wonder
why? The great fake war hero beach chief had a cousin who was
employed by the National Broadcasting Company as a Philadelphia news
anchor man. When you take all the shit that NBC has done to me over
decades of mother fuckiGN time now, and then push it all into a
dogshit pile ten light years thick with the corruption of Atlantic
City, NJ, and the destruction of my juvenile attempts at recording
its beginnings as something titled, “THE BOOK OF BEACH”, that was
burned by a Mister Russell Thaxton at around one or two in the
morning, and the giant triple chemtrail and theft of my chain in the
very same time, December of 1969, that the great PROJECT-BLUEBOOK was
suddenly closed forever, as was Haddonwood health Club in like manner
in August of 1996 directly following an act of major personal
terrorism to both myself and my then poor elderly mother, at the
Turnersville Pathmark Shopping Center, of Turnersville, New Jersey,
USA; then this starts to show a pattern that a lot more is real and
going on around me, than normal folks are ever willing to entertain
or believe. Probably sheer terror, and fear, is the reason for that;
but then folks, who can ever really know THE
MIND?????????? Sally Starr, a local Philadelphia celebrity;
was attacked by these bastards, when she was willing to help me with
these people from mother fucking hell, and they spread vicious rumors
about her that were not true. I know they seem true, but she was all
woman, and I know this, believe me. She just had a lot of girl
friends, as I have had quite a lot of men friends, and I assure you,
I am 100% straight, BRAHHH!!!!!!! Now this happened after I had a
robbery on the beach, in the summer time in 1998. But earlier that
year, Chief Levy the great, Steve Broadcaster's NBZ-CUZZ, swam out
into the sea to try and covertly drown me, and if I had not looked
up, I totally believe I would be history right now, or maybe, I am
history, and just don't know it, Mister McLeod.
Fuckign
ass dirty whore witch-bitch JANE just nailed my fuckiGN poor ass, at
page eleven of eleven, so let me please compensate now, lads
and lassies, YO!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Well
bitch, you are not going to fuckiGN nail my asshole at one-eleven,
you rotting maggot you. I have just blocked my fuckiGN cunt computer
clock with a sticky page at one fuckiGN cunt AM,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here fuckiGN cunt comes my (`~HACK), old pal
FCC Bob McDowell, and I NEED SOM E CUNT CHEWING FUCKIGN ASSISTENCE
HERE, MIZZ ATTORNEY GENERAL PAM BONDI, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pam Bondi, Attorney General of Florida
-
Programs
Units
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YOU
THINK THIS IS FUNNY DO YOU, NIKE MCNULTY????????????
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
2U2 BRO, YO!!!!!!!!!
MY
LIFE IS TOTAL FUCKING HELL!
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
UP-UP-UP-UP,
I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAA-BIT.
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