Saturday, February 28, 2015

I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE, CHAPTER 5-MASONIC








































I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE, CHAPTER 5















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Well, there are a few interesting things to report to my wonderful great viewers. I am a big asshole complainer, and I don't deny it for a New York half-second. The hammering around next door all week is to fix the place up, they painted too. It seems that my nabe Mister Stanley has moved out. I'll miss him even though he was a little bit difficult to read, and I'll tell you all right now, I am a dynamite freaking poker player even with rotten crappy luck, but he was a hard bird to get a really true read, from the darn get go! I wouldn't feel too comfy betting the dam farm with him in a big ass poker game. I went out to get some groceries at the local town Publix Store, actually Fort Pierce being about fifty square miles in area, has at least two or more of these stores that I am aware of, but usually, I am at the Virginia Avenue Mall Publix, as was I today. When I opened my door, a strange lady from clear across the hallway at the east wing of this floor number six, was walking her little Chi-dog or some cousin breed, and appeared to be right at my door as I opened it to exit. The dog is adorable, and I enjoyed petting him/her. Also Missy our building cat was perched outside in her special little area, and I always stop to pet her as well. I love cats and dogs, and well behaved kids too, sweet Donna, but don't spread my anti-Twinbay words all around, you'll fudge up my reputation for being a real nay sayer and hater. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I bought a few VHS movie tapes at the Good Will store also located at the Virginia Avenue Mall, and then hit the Publix store. Then I came home, but I forgot to mention that I first stopped at the local Ohio Avenue Walgreen's; to order in a couple of bottles of Bufferin. You cannot buy this anymore, as all the good crap that I grew up with, is basically , or going real fast. I'll come and get it and hurry up as well, or else somebody might just flip me the bad-finger bird, back in the late nineteen-sixties. Oh boy! But yes, this product still is able to be ordered; praise Goddess. What, all puns and jokes are © Milituforce Corporation???????? Gimme a dam break, willya Margie L-1985!












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Somebody broke into my vehicle a couple weeks ago and fucked with my car radio-tape player. I have proof of this, Sheriff Mascara, and plan to come over to see you next week, with some powerful evidence, plus a signed document from Joseph King, back in the freaking autumn of 2008; stating he found something planted into my car that was beyond Professor Michio Kaku of NYU stuff on his best day at the Quantum Psychics Lab, or any and all labs of the GAPESS GODDESS. 'WO' THERE, BILLY 8H. See you soon, great sir K.M. This will blow your mind, Sheriff!










I went to the Harvest a second time, to the Florida Access Office, and got it finally totally all straightened out. At first the lady was very nasty with me, and only when my back is half way through a wall, not backed up against it but half way through it into the next room, do I resort to this but yes, I used ''shrinkology'' on her. She had an easy tell-read for being the one with all the answers and the smartest person in the room. I then cleverly fed her lots of subtle but unmissable compliments, and she began to respond, and I got exactly what I needed. I do not believe in using these so called ''The-Mentalist-TV'' Patrick Jane abilities, not normally. But I am so down and fucking out, that I had, as Barnabas Collins said to that gorgeous young blond girl in the late nineteen-sixties, ''NO CHOICE''. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!











FEBRUARY 28, 2015,

SATURDAY NON-ELTON-JOHN-NIGHT AT 8:39,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 72 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY------(H-73/L-68)

HUMIDITY CURRENTLY AT 82%, FEELS 76 DEGREES.

WIND IS E AT 13, WITH GUSTS TO 23.



BUT LENNY DAUGHTERDREAMS, WHO LIVES AT AIRPORTS?

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!











OH FUCKING BOY, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, UH OH SHARKSHIT.






The human brain is not a tape recorder, and this is why powers that go beyond this realm of life, did not like me keeping a life journal on tape going back to 1983, and they destroyed it through non provable ultra covert black operations. I had totally forgotten the day by day details of the first few months in 2011. I owe my daughter a tremendous apology for many things I have recently said that were mean. Still and all, I know that indeed, if anyone is helping me against an arch enemy of mine for millions of eons, it is my wonderful ISIS, in all of her great forms. Thank you for introducing me to your friends, you know what I mean, and let's keep it between us, for both of our sakes. And I thought 2014 was a bad year. Wow am I disappointed in my own memories. Back stuff up three years, and things were far worse and on the order of a minimum of 90 percent MPB. Holy mother of MIDDIE, lovely Jewelly White. You feel like a dope on a rope when you realize suddenly what a buttwipe you are on a major issue, and I know most of you out here can relate to this, at least a few times in your lives; so don't even try to argue that with me. AHA-AHA-MMCN!

















THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.








I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE, CHAPTER 4






I no sooner posted up and went to sleep, Pam Bondi, Florida Attorney General, and Kenneth Mascara, Sheriff of Saint Lucie County, Florida, and BANG; the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is assaulting me again with the Agent Falcon Condor WPIX-TV Syndrome. They won't give me a moment of mother fucking peace, sir and ma'am. NOT A FUCKING ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





I am being put through some heavy mother fucking hell again, and this is serious, and I am declaring a dying mans declaration and utterance, officially, Fort Pierce Police Department. This is all the ESS and of course, Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces. Hall's dam fawces!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





There has to be a reason for this fuckiGN shit that started Monday and kept right on mother fucking cunt going ever since, lads and lassies. I'll be asking my KITTY-GAGA all about this god dam shit. Also, I saw Hal Lindsey's latest report, on the marvelous TBN last night. I couldn't agree with you MORE, kind sir. I met your kid in 1980 at the RPL Studio one night. I doubt he will remember me, as we were talking, and I called him Mike. That was not his name. I never had money, and didn't know in those days about brand named kicks. My sneaks were always just a cheap B&W pair of Keds, not even spell-checker recognized by mighty fucking Microsucks!!!! When he explained this to me, we got talking, he is a cool guy, sir. Hope you recover from your health issues. I'll talk to SSJKK in your behalf. I too am not 100% these days in that department, only I am so looking forward to death and escape from a land where I only know constant shit, hell, tears, and agony, YO!





So far today, I was awakened by yet another illegal telephone squealing sound on my landline phone around half past seven, and then around twenty shy of nine, a knock at the door by a strange African-American male, about my age, or so, acting very weird, and I politely told him I was sorry for not being able to find or know who he was looking for, or 'supposedly' looking for, between you and me, my viewers. This can be a very weird place. But I happen to fucking know that the ESS is behind all of this shit, especially a continual attack all week long not to let me sleep-in without being cunt chewing fuckiGN disturbed! Mizz Bondi and Mister FCC McDowell, all of my mother fucking computer hacks have returned. Why can't you mother fuckiGN get these jerk offs prosecuted once and for all. Do they have a legal right to mess with me and my computer that I paid a lot of money to purchase? It all got better for a while out of the blue, then BANG, it all just fucking started back up again, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!







MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCC





As Brenda Moore's friend's little brother put it, back in the early nineteen-nineties; “You know what to do and you know when to do it”. SO MOTHER FUCKING DO IT ALREADY.





This will go on only so long, and then I will wait for a string of spring like days, and go to the beach, PUSSY CHASING. This will tear down their fuckiGN economy, via ICPE-APE TECH used against them. Spring starts early in Florida, some years it already is here. Keep pushing it with me, you arrogant mother fucking asshole pricks!























































I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE





CHAPTER 4
























Those puke swallowing Callio's really hate my fucking guts, as do the McGuire's and the King's; and I guess the whole dam fucking clan of them; am I right here, Ron Wirtz, John Judy, Ken, and Pam???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really could use some dam HELLLLLLLLLL'P in here.



















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FEBRUARY 28, 2015,

LATE SATURDAY MORNING AT 10:18,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 70 DEGREES FNHT.

WINDS ARE ENE AT 11, GUSTING TO 14.

TEMPERATURE RANGE TODAY, (H-67/L-59)

HUMIDITY IS 90%, FEELING 69.



These readings taken at the Fort Pierce Airport. Who lives at the airport however, Lenny Deathneedles Wildreams?

















Hey there Bill and Joann Marney. I don't fuckiGN need Mister Hall's 1980 fawces to tell me it was the ESS and SSJKK, that used you guys to wipe me out at MARS, in 1977. At east they tell me that I rode the fastest bike in the universe. It only took just under a half hour to get to Mars and back to the Carriage Lamp Apartment system; mighty Mister Microsucks Lightbulb Buttwipes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





AHA-AHA-AHA $1.380 an hour Mike McNulty! Sheeeeeeit; I'm going on a giant helicopter ride now, Major Nohacks Brightideas! You and that 1987 buzzing Death Angel; huh Well Done Saunders. Is anybody not in the Criminal Justice System any more? Like fucking wow.









THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.






Friday, February 27, 2015

I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE, CHAPTER 3














May Hall's dam fawces be with you, Sarah Callio Martino of 1977, even if we had to sacrifice the ELV-KING and myself, in the process. Hey, as if we count, next to this Almighty All Powerful GODDESS of ATLANIC ESSCITY! WEEEEEEEEE, Luke Russwalker!!!!







I stopped trying to figure the great Sarah Krassle out a few billion millennia ago, ladies and gentlemen. Maybe you should all follow suit. Sup-2U of course, just sayin'.



























Sharkey tried to escape Atlantic City many many many many many times, HTHS David Speas, but time catches up with me over and over again, just like you seemed to be aware of, THE VERY FIRST TIME, OLD MAGIC MARKER PAL FROM 1967. Oh boy, I surrender Chemtrails Dorothy Gozzwald!!!!!!!!! Like WOW.








































If you liked the fucking song so much BILLY, why didn't you ever offer to do a dam rendition, YO? Figuring out Planet Earth, without using the ESS, is like building the city of Manhattan without ever using any architectural engineering and mathematics, YO YO YO YO YO DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Sarah Krassle is fucking up my computer. SOSO-WEIN-SSDD??????????????????? But that's a misnomer aniwho. It is not mine. Nothing belongs to anyone according to old original English Law. The USA as colonies more than two centuries ago, adopted the very same thing right here. We own nothing. Go ahead, study it for yourselves at your local fucking law library, or be quicker about it and ask any third year law student or call a dam lawyer up. If we could really own our homes just by not owing a bank or other financial institution, then we would not have to ever pay another dime for the privilege of having one all paid for. But we do. And if the highway needs to come through where your house is, good luck saying no. You'll fare better against the fuckiGN mafia. Try owning a car outright yet never paying anything again, and I don't mean insurance or even a fee for having a drivers license. Taxes and registration are there to silently prove that we only have a TITLE OF USAGE, the right to copy, as in a copyright, or the right to use a home or an automobile, or any property. Think you own your television or anything else? Think again, but don't believe this blog, ask a good attorney and then see if I am a bullshitter or not, good folks! WHAAAAAAAAA, did I teach you all anything?



















































I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE





CHAPTER 3

















Yes ma'am Melanie Safka of 1971, let me lay it all down, and may all the WHITE'S, Julie and Sarah and Paula and any of them, RULE!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-----PLOP. Manhattan street cleaning crew and Med-Examiners, please.















OH LOVELY SARAH, THAT DAM CARRIAGE RIDE

IS GETTING REAL BUMPY, BIG GIRL, © 2005.















FEBRUARY 27, 2015,

LATE FRIDAY NIGHT AT 11:28,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 67 DEGREES FNHT.

WINDS ARE N AT 10, GUSTING TO 23.

TEMPERATURE RANGE TODAY, (H-67/L-59)



















ANY DAM TITLE WILL DO, EVEN THE SAME ONE, HUH POOLROY?







Bill and Joann Marney, don't feel bad if you're still on this side of the fuckiGN gravestones. I don't fuckiGN need Mister Hall's 1980 fawces to tell me it was the ESS and SSJKK, that used you guys to wipe me out at MARS. I wonder why she didn't hate me so much back when I was Franklin. I was so interested in making zombies with things implanted into dead bodies that resemble caveman days batteries, way back then, when not windsurfing on my back, in the dam Boston Harbor. The ACBP knows I still love to body surf on my back, and I never saw anyone else do it; and I doubt that they fuckiGN did either, so WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SHEEEEEEEEIT. This is why they found the bodies in my house from so long ago, in Philly. Go figure, I was more of a nutcase then than I am in this life, only most peeps never knew about it all, AHA-AHA-AHA $1.380 an hour Mike Mick! Shit, I'm going on a giant helicopter ride now, Major Nohacks Brightideas! What is this thing with giant typewriters, Dick Woooooooooooooolf?




















































-------------------------------------------------GODDESS DIANA, MY LOVELY LIGHTNING.









SSSSSSSSSOOOOOOO MISTER CRANE SIR; SUP YO?????????

























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AFTER MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3





















































































Early on one particular afternoon, at the Richland Avenue Elementary School of Quakertown, Pennsylvania; a group of exploratrons all jumped into various students, sitting all around me, and one by one, and for absolutely no god dam mother fucking reason whatsoever on this gods green brown Earth; they began telling the teacher, Miss Mulhall; and I quote, total lies concerning my behavior on the school bus, “He hits on the bus, he spits on the bus” and although I managed to put the rest of this below my conscious mind because it was so horrendous for a six year old child to have to suffer this horrendous mother fuckiGN torment and torture when I'd done no such thing, and in fact, I thought I was losing my mind, and that I had done all these things, and was going fucking crazy. It took me years to realize eventually, that this was not me, as usual, being the bad guy, but the evil dirt bag fawces of Mister Hall, doing despicable and monstrous things to me. It might as well be 1977 or 1988, just as much as 2015 or 3535, and great late sixties hit tunes as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! W—O—W.













We have not had a blog that gets on the subject of Exploratronics for some time now folks; so I figure it is high over do time right about now. If you agree, great. If you don't, maybe this is not the blog for you to waste your time reading, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!











Well, the great family of bloody 1970 washcloths have taken their toll on my life for quite some time, as I do not speak of this one human life of a mere sixty years, and I do speak of how someone in their fold and flock loves to remind me of that horrendous nightmarish grouping of words they enjoy throwing my way, “Try getting out of this one”. Folks, I am not going to get out of anything, merely endlessly moving from one situation to another where I may as well be literally throwing myself through sheets of glass, only, what is the use? I can still see that fucking bastard ''copper's eyeballs'' this very second, and it has been a few ticks and tocks since somewhere in early January of 1986, driving along that dark Woodbury, New Jersey road, straight towards the Route-45 intersection, and these are no driving instructions, lovely Doctor McDonald. I saw that coppers-IIIIIBAULLS, BRO. Right there where I died on 45. So why am I here, 30 years later after 1985, YYYYYYY JIMMY, and without even a fuckiGN scratch? Maybe I should be asking Mister WOOOOOOOOOOOLF and not you, James T. Burr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Slam-Slam, and at midnight, what an asshole. Well, obviously someone doesn't like my TYPEWRITER. Maybe I am not IBM'S 1986 TYPE. Is that any fucking reason to covertly murder me all these cunt chewing years, folks from H—E—L—L?????????????????? Maybe Mister fucking Microsucks Lightbulb has an answer, JIMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













Ed Lynch from Mullica, New Jersey back in 2006 was waiting for me at the Hammonton, New Jersey library, and so were all of the subatomic STA's, huh Professor Kaku of NYU? All you need to do now sir, is ''see''. You can spell that CEY you know. WOW, if it gets a lot better than this shit on some other blog, I will really be pissed off at all my viewers who never comment to tell me the error of my ways and show me where it does get better than Morianity, and print me a click-address for me to go to, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!









They don't think I have got it all worked out, right down to all the giant slut attacks, especially in ATLANTIC FUCKING CITY, NEW JERSEY. Well, that's all fine and cool and shit, folks. BUTT, I do have it all worked out, and it is all about one thing, and most of you out here could complete this sentence blindfolded. THE ESS. Only one thing can explain a million such things as this particular attack. Some are way worse than others, such as when I was surrounded one day on the beach while with ANN, by a dozen Amazons, three heads taller than me, and stunningly fuckiGN gorgeous as all piss squared!!! Only the mother fucking ESS can explain how:





The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck

The giant girl syndrome struck









I don't care if I fuckiGN die from the FLU, from therapy, or from my aunt Ruth's magical long Island Injections from Skywalker times of Call-10 marriages. Pee hit Gemma so dam hard in a parallel universe, that the great pharmaceuticals giants used my blog on their ads, ever notice that, BRO? WOW! Jason Forrest of WFMU said on a comment around late 6 or early 7 somewhere, “I made a lot of money out in CALI with this blog. I'm sure you fucking did, fatso!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Turn down that fucking pull gain, mister Distortion King!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You sound like a cross between ghetto-hip and older rock, YO DOG!







Yes PEE, I obey, up here in 2014!!!!!

JUST DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!!!!!!! David Roth knew all along!!!!!!!!!!!

NOW IT'S 2015, DAVE IN THE GRAVE. SO DOES TIME STOP FOR PEOPLE, OR WAS IT EVER REAL TO START WITH? HEY DON'T BELIEVE ME; I WAS ONLY DEAD FOREVER. Right to the end this all went down, but I would bet dimes to fart stink donuts that if someone opened up those two graves, neither his mom or him are inside there, Sergeant Trollio and Constable McMeekan. “REAL GOOD GIRL” Shit don't make me laugh at myself at C-SQ, Professor Kaku sir.









Does that get me a pretty cheerleader or two, Ann King, without the scolding, and if not, does it get me a 'W', does it get me a 'O', and does it get me another dam 'W', Mister Macy and Mister Mackey? Grow up and be a man, Daniel, my foot, you all came from the fucking future or my name is Joe Shmo Shitmo!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yogi and I ain't buying into all this coincidence fucking shit, sahwee, people!!!!!!!!































YEAH, I KNOW, SAME OLD SONG BUT WITH A DIFFERENT BEAT. WELL, GO WIPE OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS HANGING DAM HUNTINGTON IS JUST SAYIN'.













In case you didn't get to the beginning of this new blog book, it is reprinted on this third chapter now, great people. Obviously, I meant to say a GIANT BLOND, NOT A giant blog. My bad. Or was it my bad? I think these major fucking PBHE things are very organized, as so many times, THEY MAJOR PUN OUT, and people; if you think I am doing that all those times; to quote the great EX-SENATOR FRED THOMPSON, on one of those great “L&O” episodes of earlier this millennium, “You would be wrong”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I swear that on my fucking eternal hell. If I lie, I pray to the Pope that my hell never ever stops in a decillion decades!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MARILOO. Let me shut up B4I really get into trouble here, YO! BOB FCC FUCKING OLD PAL MCDOWELL, THEY JUST USED THE FUCKING WORD DISAPPEARING HACK ON ME AND HERE IT FUCKING CUNT GOES AGAIN, OLD COOLEY WORMHOLE HADDONFIELD PAL!!!!!!!!!!! Their funeral old friend, as my bombing mission on the ASTRAL PLANE will be starting very soon when I hit my fucking pillow, oh great sir and old friend from the Johnny Fucker Faster Jokes days in Dan Mackey's great class.









Oh yes, my wonderful and extremely

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:

GREAT KIND FOLKS:



I try very hard not to counter strike, but I am only going to take so much of this bastard-bunch from fuckiGN hell and their relentless fucking dam ass horse shit, and then KABOOM-KAPOW, and good night fucking Archie Bunker's great nurse, YO!!!!!!





















































I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE





CHAPTER 2


















































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I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE


CHAPTER 2




There is a real miscarriage of justice in this universe. Those who can perpetrate the greatest hoaxes or operate the very best ultimate conspiracies, can make the rest of us, mostly the honest who would never think of trying to mislead anyone with lies and crap; and because the are so great at their art and their craft, they succeed in many ways, directly, and then also, indirectly. This group of #%*#%^(@# from HELL that I have called on my blogs, the MILITUFORCE, is the topic of conversation here, just in case that is not yet realized. They invent religions, they invent wars, they invent woes and troubles, and they end up always, with the lions share of all the good things that this physical life has to offer. The funniest part though is yet to come. They actually wonder why so many peeps who even start to get onto any of this hocus pocus; are bitching and moaning and complaining. They tell us shit like 'turn the page', 'get over it', 'tough it out', 'hang in there', 'keep the faith', and a million others just like this. If it was not against the law, I would really draw a giant word picture of who, what, and why, and then go onto tell you to fight them and hate them, and cause as much trouble as possible. But that's not legal, and so I am not telling anyone a thing. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Still, how dumb they think some of us little 99ers really are, are probably wagered about by these WOMO-M-2-F entities in the flesh; and it would not shock me if they bet with each other on stuff, just as Mel Gibson said in the great nineties movie, 'Conspiracies Theory'.


















To
In Miss Mulhall's class, at the Richland Avenue Elementary School of Quakertown, Pennsylvania; a group of exploratrons all jumped into various students, sitting all around me, and one by one, and for absolutely no god dam mother fucking reason whatsoever on this gods green brown Earth; they began telling the teacher, Miss Mulhall; and I quote, total lies concerning my behavior on the school bus, “He hits on the bus, he spits on the bus” and although I managed to put the rest of this below my conscious mind because it was so horrendous for a six year old child to have to suffer this horrendous mother fuckiGN torment and torture when I'd done no such thing, and in fact, I thought I was losing my mind, and that I had done all these things, and was going fucking crazy. But there are certain places as well as power-points in transdimensional reality, and in this case, we have the first grade class, at a country school, back early in the nineteen-sixties. But the Lambrigg Cult was not done with this, as they ever are. They don't stand around in a boxing ring throwing single punches. That is rarely how a fight is ever won; ask any dam champion. They know how to be effective with all sorts of dam ass major combinational blows, that WILL INDEED cause knockouts and victories for them on a very regular an continual relentless basis. Hey, I don't argue their strategies, their effectiveness, or their ops record. I would never be that stupid and asinine. I just tell you all now, that these mother fucking dirt bags are the epitome of sub scum garbage, and I wouldn't give you ten cents for the whole lot of them, any day, anywhere, to quote the mighty non Bell-Tone, George Belton from 1983 and 1984, who I met in the beginning of the final month of 1982, right around my dam twenty-eighth birthday.





Well, there is still hope for those who have miraculously graduated from that really one celled mental state. I hope there are a few out here, neutral, and who indeed have not totally made up their minds against me and my claims, as hope burns eternal, right lovely luscious Twinbay from Jersey?????????????? Holy shit, I will bet a billion bucks, double or nothing, that you never thought you'd hear that coming from asshole little me! WOW, I did say, Lois Foca 1980, the one and only 1980. Well I may not be Bob the vampire, TDA, or Roseann either; or even the retired carpenter from the future, back in 1981; but I knew then, I was not imagining any of this wild stuff, by pure Yogi Berra anti-happenstance-logic!!!! WEEEEE! That, as Jennifer Washburn put it so eloquently, would prove not a whole lot, so let me just say this, in nice easy lingo. As of this present second, my belief systems are not complex unless as with anything, you wish to make it appear as though it is a lot more than it is. Something has made my life a living hell and it is absolutely organized, ever since I was a tiny child. This worsened in absolute and definite stages along the time-line of my life. As things grew into what they were around the time I was obsessed with locating the mysterious teenaged girl from my past in Atlantic City, New Jersey; I needed no convincing from the most powerful ten top peeps on Planet Earth, that what I was going through was real, and that psychiatry had nothing to do with shit. Still, Sarah allowed me to collect disability, and to the world, I had become not only the crazy nut I always was basically considered to be, but now I was LEGALLY CERTIFIED. Many things need to be done in this life to people who find out too many fucking cunt secrets that are total ''NO-NO'' things to be found out. The difference with me on all of this is something quite fucking mind blowing and breaking. This entire deal was to get me to become aware, ONE BY ONE BY ONE, of each and every one of these horrendous dirty big secrets. This way I could legitimately pile up Earthly and even cosmic enemies, and just look like to quote the great Doctor Bruce Goldberg, “A NUT”, in his marvelous untrumpable book from the late nineties, “Time Travelers From Our Future”. Studying what I wrote in this final paragraph peeps, will permit you to receive one hell of a huge key into me, and into Morianity, and for that matter, into the secret worlds that surround all of us, if nothing else is ever achieved, maybe you can learn negatively!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WO MISTER B.H.



Well, relax Marcus Laines and Leticia Tilley. Katharine ain't too hungry right now. I don't think that she is.










COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!
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Advisory Colors Key
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UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!


TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

GOD DAM IT, I TOLD YOU.
Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)




How can it not go up to record highs every day forever, after all the mother fuckiGN shit that the Milituforce is doing to me, 30 years straight????????????


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Two lovely moons are out at the great ES School at PSL, FL, USA, ESMWG. Well, actually, it just looks like this, but aren't mother fuckiGN illusions and maya cool? Reminds me of when I was a little fucking bratty kid in my parents car, and seeing the water that isn't really there, ahead of us on the asphalt roads. SHEEEEEEIT!





















FEBRUARY 27, 2015,

FRIDAY MORNING AT 1:52,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 62 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 93%, WIND CHILL IS 61 DEGREES.

DRIZZLE, LIGHT WINDS NNW 6 TO 7.









I LOVE TWB AND TWC, WHAAAAAAAAAA-BIT!









THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.



















JUST WALK AWAY, HUH DONNA SUMMER, WHILE NO RED COLOR IS ON THEM?







AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, HUH MIKE 1971 MCNULTY SIR?


















































I TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY MORE THAN ONCE,





CHAPTER 1









Mailmen, bus-men, water-people, and so much more, all notwithstanding, kind people; I did try. I remember saying back around a dozen years or more back now, while speaking of enjoying my air conditioning at the Mullica Mobile Manor Trailer Park just east of Hammonton, New Jersey; ''Now I'll be enjoying THE OTHER AC'' In any case, something I heard while enjoying watching 'TWC' just today, made me think of that, not that it triggered a lost to conscious mind memory, as I do think often of that very thing that I had spoken onto my CASSETTE TAPED LIFE JOURNAL that I was sort of keeping, as the New Testament of the Morianity Bible, on tape, back then before my 'blogging career that never took off', all began. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









I just cannot get my lovely LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA to visit with me lately. I guess she thinks I haven't been a good boy. Oh well, I try. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT.





























FEBRUARY 26, 2015,

THURSDAY AFTERNOON AT 2:55,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY------(H-79/L-69)

HUMIDITY IS 90%, HEADING FOR 80, FEELING 76.





























Well, dear life journal/diary, I asked my kitty cat Gawky Gaukauk, WHY THE FRIKKIN' ASS STOCK MARKET IS FLYING ON A SUPER RALLY FOR SO LONG, as well as why I was struck down in early December with lots of health problems, and got some real wild information. But does anything at all shock poor old fucking git bag Mountainpen? Not on your dam ass life, kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!









The Double Horizon Knowledge Barrier, or DHKB, is a very powerful unpleasant truth, to many folks. BUT IT IS 100% REAL, LIKE IT OR HATE IT. SAHWEE TUNA-CHAWEE!











I had the maintenance crew next door pounding AGAIN, but this time it was afternoon and I was already awake, praise GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some dam things work out, with or without a little 1978 luck. But then, Mizz McGreggor from the year before that on the CALLIO MARRIAGE YEAR of lighthouse taunts and others; lovely Mary, I am not torn, not anymore. I learned too dam much about ESS for that to be my problem, Shirley Grant! WO BILLY H-8!









MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---MEOW-MEOW---







My days of keeping a LIFE JOURNAL ON CASSETTE TAPE, cannot be fathomed, not by ten fucking thousand Albert Einsteins, even those that 'know the diction of Mark Wayne Mohr and Sarah-Stacey Krassle', copyrighted in or out of the ultra wild year of 1997, which won't even be frikkin' touched on, on this journal of right now, tonight. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Oh yeah, I forgot, I never said that on tape, only in print up here in the ''future'', but this, as are many things and folks, is and are, singularly and plurally, RELATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!! In any case, SOONER OR LATER, MAGGIE IS GOING TO FUCKING KICK SOME REAL FUCKING SERIOUS ASS, as only SHE CAN DO, Misses Elliot. The world has no tiny little clue just how sorry I am for doing a lot of really rotten ass fucking things over the past 60+ years now, but that's just the way it goes.



















THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW, GREAT PEEPS!