ADDED IN FOOTNOTE
BEFORE POSTING.
I PASSED MY
INSPECTION.
FEBRUARY
13, 2015,
FRIDAY
MORNING AT 9:27,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 55 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY------(H-55/L-46)
HUMIDITY
IS 77%, WIND CHILL IS 53.
WINDS
ARE NW AT 6, GUSTING SLIGHTLY TO 7.
ROUGH
SEAS AND RIPS ALONG MY COUNTY SHORELINE
I will always remember 27
years ago come tomorrow, as I was at the American Honda Plane on
Gaither Road, it was a weekend day, maybe a Sunday and around quarter
past noon, and with me in this gate house was David Charles Roth. He
was screaming real loud about his rotten HLS and his mother on his
case and all of the rest of his miseries in general, shortly after he
arrived to relieve me of my twelve hour shift, as we each did a
twelve hour shift on Saturday and on Sunday, for a place called
Guardsmark Security, out of Philly. This was my last shift there, as
I think this was the day I quit, and we were two miserable people. I
remember hollering onto my cassette taped life journal while packing
up my stuff to go home, ''14 February, AD, EG, ET!!!!!!!!!!!!! My
voice broke as I was shouting, and no one could shout as loud as Dave
Roth, as he could literally rumble a jungle!
Yesterday
I saw Vero Beach, Florida, for the first time after living down here
in the town just to the south of it for sixty two months. I did the
intake at the psych place. I see the counselor again in three weeks
and then in six weeks, the psychiatrist, hopefully. If not, then it
is up to Jacksonville, to the Mayo Clinic to get my thyroid gland
surgically removed, so I can breathe and not be choking. This is the
most horrible mother fuckiGN country in the entire world. All that do
not know this, are buying into propaganda. Dogs and other animals are
not allowed to suffer, and are given the proper pain and calming
medications when needed. It is a major crime to abuse a soulless
animal. Fine, I don't have a problem with that, and when I say
soulless, I just mean it was not made in the image of the Goddess,
not a physical reality, but simply that they are here for humans and
not the other way around. Humans are in the image of Sarah-Stacey
Jehovah Krassle Goddess, on the other hand. And yet I have to live in
pain and agony with a mysterious condition that no one gives a mother
fucking dam about. And then the governor and the president and
everyone else wonders why I refuse to take any part in this political
crooked rotten process of so called democracy, which it is not of
course, as even I know how to pledge allegiance to a flag; and it
does not go, ''and to the democracy for
which it stands'', but to the republic.
THIS IS NOT A DEMOCRACY AT ALL, IT IS A
REPUBLIC. You do what they command, or you are totally
covertly ruined and destroyed!
My
Housing inspectors originally were coming back on the day I was to
see my primary doctor, Doctor S. This does not stand for Doctor
Schorr, as he has retired, and now I go to his partner. I have spoken
to several people who tell me there is no law forcing me to go to
these people, merely to carry the mandatory health insurance. If you
don't go however, I am sure they will eventually drop you, so I plan
to make new case law and sue the system for many things before I
shortly die. I should have a cunt fucking sucking right to die with
dignity, if they won't help me stop choking to death. I am barely
surviving on dropping from a 28 milligram dosage down 50% to 14
milligrams, and the most anyone wants to let me have is 7, and I
doubt that I will live through this clever murder by the American
Medical Association, and this blog puts Attorney General Bondi on
notice, that I hold both her and the AMA directly responsible for
killing me. She started all this pill me shit to kill me in the first
place, covertly, and it is going to be very difficult for me to
mother fucking prove, but I have been told at Publix by another great
AC initialed reality, that this is true and that I need to stay away
from lovely blond Pam, and that she means me absolutely no good
whatsoever!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Today, the
inspectors of the Fort Pierce Public Housing will come here, since
they never came on the day that originally was scheduled and I am
glad I did not try and rearrange the medical appointment back on
February four. Whatever is not scrubbed out good enough, they will
tell me and Debbie the Resident Manager will reinspect at the end of
the month on the day I am scheduled for my annual re-certification.
It fucking amazes me that the word re-certification is not one
non-hyphenated word, but it isn't, so I'll go with the flow. This
entire society is totally off the cunt chewing mother fuckiGN wall,
at light speed cubed, Cuban, and all Atlantic City hookers with
lottery winning dads of the early millennium.
I managed to get to the
appointment yesterday, a basic 30 mile round trip drive, and I lucked
out as I thought that it would be further to there and back, like
maybe twenty or more miles each way. That was the only high point of
my fucking day yesterday, that and treating myself to a take out
Chinese Pork Fried Rice. The local Chinese place down the road, just
ain't that swift, to quote an expression used quite often by my late
friend, David Charles Roth. This place makes really tasty food, and
the majority of Florida-Chinese is not all that good. Usually, I'm
told unless you are in or near Miami, forget it, but I found a nice
little place on the drive back yesterday. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
There are two local airports, a Coast Guard Station and other
military oriented places, out there on the Hutchinson Island, just a
few miles to the east of inland-Treasure Coast; and so it is within
some norms to be bombarded with lots of small airplanes as well as
large scary looking choppers. Indeed, the early part of my trip was
pretty quiet, but more and more air presence seemed to be all around
me as the trip up to Vero Beach and back yesterday, continued to go
along. I don't totally buy all of these crafts, but the majority of
them may have been normal, and some to persecute me. None of the
choppers went crash-level directly over me but were off a ways maybe
a mile or half a mile to my east, while driving along US Highway
Route Number 1.
Now for a short continued
lesson on fifth dimensional non Marilyn McCoo reality. Before getting
into it, I was in South Atlantic City before awakening, maybe around
5 this morning as it was still dark. I was inside my dream-double in
this alternate reality (parallel universe) and this other me had
somehow gotten himself involved with some mafia type young wise guys,
and we were all part of some newly built nightclubs, and major
horrible shit went down and there were some killings. They had
managed to frame me for the killings but got me a real Clarence
Darrow type lawyer, and it ended up with the judge giving me 5 years
in prison for being complicit in the murder of one of these people
killed, a woman who was the girlfriend of one of these really bad
dudes, who I think if memory serves me right, was cheating on him,
and he had found out about it, and had her brutally murdered in some
terrible unholy way. I remember for whatever reason, seeing the judge
who had sentenced me, outside the courtroom, and I was out on bond,
and he said to me, “You're very lucky, I wanted to really throw the
dam book at you Mister”. So far, this day has not gone all that
horrible considering popping out of this FIENDISH
NIGHTMARE FROM HELL!!!!!!!!!
Oh
boy did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a
wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the
hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy
did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild
trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the
hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy
did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild
trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the
hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy
did I have a wild trip in the hyperspace. Oh boy did I have a wild
trip in the hyperspace!!!!!!!!
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Well
Louise XXXXXXXXXXX Hendershodt, of
Northeast, Maryland, back in the middle late nineteen-sixties; with
all of my many troubles and woes; at least I am
not back in school. Like those days need to be repeated, and
of course, soon they will be, in this endless
cycle from HELL.
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People
all over the place have degrees, and are skilled in ways that allow
them successful careers, that make them monetary gains; but all the
same, they are a century behind me and what I know. Now if that
sounds all stuck up and hostile; then I can only offer up my most
sincere apology. The truth is not always the prettiest doll in the
toy drawer. Understanding some powerful truth about
type-3-exploratrons and phase-4-entities changes the playing field of
awareness in ways not imaginable.
My
beautiful Moon Goddess Diana, was only there for me, for a short
while; during my experience of last night's slumber time. In no time
it seems, the waterfalls just flashed away, and there I was in South
Atlantic City with these nightmare hellish people. My doubles, and
all of yours also, folks out here; are into some really wild and
outlandish fucking bullshit. But then some of them would most
assuredly say that one of their doubles, ME, is in one hell of a wild
through hell also. I
would be in too much trouble if I finished that story on these blogs,
but it did lead to some musical lyrics in that magical year of 1984,
and the United States Copyright Office knows this all too well, I am
quite freaking sure! Sorry Billy Hershey Mummypip!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But
anyway, I came to learn that I was in this alternate reality, as
being energetically inside of ones doppelganger, just makes an entity
suddenly know what the doppelganger knows. This is how I have come to
realize just today, this very exact day, that back in the summer time
in 1970, THAT FAMILY of washcloths, didn't communicate that they were
''THAT FAMILY'' to me at all. I merely was in my own doppelganger as
a normal dreaming type-1-exploratron, as all dreamers are, and when
we are; we suddenly, as in a sort of physical equivalent of quantum
entanglement, just know the same things that are 'dream-double'
knows. This is why we seem to just know stuff, in these 'dreaming
situations'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We
all learn and grow from cradle to grave, me included. Making it up as
we go along is not some crime, folks. This can also be thought of as
learning and growing. Sure, ever since my blogs started, I blog to
you my life presently and then mix in how I believe as best as I am
able to fathom, just exactly how and why things are what they
presently are, as a direct result of my past. If you think you or
anyone else is doing stuff any differently, then you would be wrong,
to quote the great ex-Senator Fred Thompson.
Yes
sir, just as the PIP says; ''I knew suddenly, because my
'dream-double' already knew all along (doppelganger), that Goren was
my friend, who was trying to get some proof he had documented on
paper, that he had hidden right near the house''. Are you at all
interested in what I remember this PROOF TO BE? If so, it amazes me
that when I do not go on and follow up immediately, that someone
doesn't ask the Mountainpen to tell more. If a viewer reads me who is
not in th eESS or part of my enemies, my most sincere apologies go
out to you for ever saying that everyone must be in these categories.
I realize that very few peeps want to get involved in any small way,
with things this big and this terrifying that last lifetimes. Well
Elsie and Jim Burr, have a nice did-din on me, with good old mom, and
say hello to 1989 for me. Then tell it to go to hell! W—O—W!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK
THE ESS, CHAPTER 14
Striking
a bad tooth without the proper application of Novocain however, and a
child can see the knee-jerk reactions that life has always
demonstrated. This is why this great Queen of Dance of the pre 1980
circa, felt the need to do that project with that name, it also is
why I get yelled at so often, by so many peeps. In addition, it leads
me to realize that Paula and McKinnon may have issues with me, as my
daughter remains either one of two things, mysteriously silent or
very complementary. When, as my mother always said since I was knee
high to a turtle, despite the 'LAW AND ORDER' dribble that is heard
on television, a person feels badly, the normal reaction is attack.
This tells me that some other peeps or force, put Tom Reale up to
doing that dastardly deed to me, back in 1970!!!!
THIS
WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ
MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER
BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A
PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ
MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER
BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.THIS WAS A
PIP, MISTER BILLY TTZ MUMMY.
LIFE
IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!!
LIFE
IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A VERY AMAZING
PLACE, BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP
MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A
VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE,
BILLY PIP MUMMY!!!! LIFE IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE, BILLY PIP
MUMMY!!!!!!!!!
Still,
it is so nice and cool here today, only 61 degrees at a quarter shy
of eleven this morning. Another great week of a cool snap is still
ahead, so says the great meteorologists of Planet Earth, and more
locally with me, the GAP-TWB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
knew if I said anything about MOVER-BARRY,
he would vanish, and so he did. Ten days ago I dropped him off after
work, at the local K-Mart, boom, no more Barry. I know this is
all true, and I know who all of you great KENNEDY'S are, and so do
the few true MOVERS. Still, MOVERS are not
necessarily hyperspace travelers. Stop thinking that anyone
needs a physical vehicle. Hyperspace is traveled through with the 6th
dimensional mind that has been signaled into us here in 3 dimensions
of this waking life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Every
time I ever doubt something, I do the unthinkable, I ask this great
wonderful kitty cat friend of mine, who I have known for such a long
eternity now. He meow's, and mathematically provides the answer to
anything I ever need to know.
As
you all know, I got that realtor to repeat what he had spoken
previously to me in his office; when he was in my vehicle, and we
were going to that property together, that
I was being stopped from selling, until the magic date that the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE wanted it to be sold on, and that was 8-8-88,
yes, August eighth in nineteen-eighty-eight, and this is a day I will
not forget in the next eighty eight thousand years, I promise you
that!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Yes, very early
in 1996, Doctor Mark Wolf of Moorestown, hypnotized me. The very
first thing out of my mouth when I heard the session tape, was about
the Speedship Sunram, and Atlantic City. I had put all of this out of
my head, or so I had thought. But some of it was not put out, it
was BLOTTED OUT, by other hypnosis. I have been taken to that
COMCAST-ESS-MUSICROOM upon numerous occasions, so it seems; and just
as with just about all who claim they have suffered
'alien-abductions', it is an ongoing and repetitive process, IE it
doesn't happen just once. Just as we get recurring 'dreams', we also
get recurring non-dreams, that normal people cannot as of yet,
outside of Morianity and its teachings; even really begin to
rationally explain. Why have I mentioned Ingrid so many times, and
just how did she get onto my telephone? What really was going on in
1980, 1983, 1984, and 1986? What does anybody REALLY know about
anything? To quote a fantastic philosopher I knew, and was proud to
call a pal, back in 1969, Mister Sigmund Malyeska; “You don't KNOW
nothing”! And here comes Morty Mortino,
------------AGAIN!!!!!!!--------
Congressman
old buddy from 1975, it has been brought to my attention by some cool
dude who goes by a wild name in a parallel universe, Ethan
Ballaterra, of course I am spelling it the way it sounds only. He was
telling me that I will get more and more wrecked and brutalized, the
more secrets I tell, because this is behind a lot of what Scott
Ransom and his little speech to me in 1988, was all about.
Well,
it is nice to know where the nerves and funny bones are, as I will
just kick all that much harder, right in those nasty mother fucking
places. I have nothing to lose, as my entire life has been completely
fucking obliterated by this scum bag stinking twisted disease, from
the other side of the dam gates of hell.
'SSSSSSHHHHHHHHH',
Steve Hawking, and Professor Kaku of NYU. Saying too much is
hazardous to the health, way worse than smoking or drinking,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAA!
Saturday
around mid day, the fucking jerk off Milituforce tried to attack my
video again. There were two attacks, and I saw it happen live. Then
the DJIA flew up. Good old ICPE-APE TECH. Really it should be ICAAT,
or just pronounced I-CAT, for Intentionally Created And Applied
PE-TECH, BRO.
Saturday
around mid day, the fucking jerk off Milituforce tried to attack my
video again. There were two attacks, and I saw it happen live. The
reason it stopped is because my friends at the FCC were triangulating
the signal source, illegally bouncing into here, from a nearby remote
source. What none of you buttwipes seem to know, and I don't mean
youth peeps of 35 and under, but those say a wee bit on the south
side of that number; is that cellphone towers were up a full thirty
years or almost, before cellphones were used by us ordinary people.
When I talk about death attacks, and health attacks, and death beams;
just about anyone reading immediately thinks, 'whack job', 'crazy
person', 'tinfoil hatter', and along these lines. Fine, but explain
why these cell towers were all up in the early eighties. When
cellphones came into being in the last few years of the past century,
no changes were made to any of these structures. They were there, ALL
ALONG! As for the health attack, it lasted for three days and nights.
You always know when you're struck with this horrible major bowel
siege, and it is way too disgusting, to quote my lovely daughter, to
get into the exact 'stinking' particulars of this!!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
MIKE MCNULTY, BRAHH!
If
I ever went past just telling the details of Lenny McKinnon and the
''Lost Love'' song, in the summer time of 1980; we'd be all cunt
huffing night and day, and I still wouldn't have it all told. But
keep hurting me you rotten scum bastard toilet lickers, and oh yes, I
will make this detailed list, and post it up, ''CONGRESSMAN''! Give
my best to Angel if you see her. I'll always remember that place the
two of you had right there on King George Highway in
Haddonfield!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
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MARK
WAYNE MOHR, AND HIS BLOG, © 2006-2015
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
I
soul-traveled over to there a short while ago
No
great peeps, I did not souk-travel;
that was a typo, or maybe
a PBHE,
(Prior Blog Hack/Error). WEEEEEEEEEEE, BRAHHHH!!!!!!
I
don't know these wicked Braxton's, nor do I care to, but I came to
learn later on, following wild dreams, such as the one on June 21,
2008, and so many others; but she insisted, Paula Uwich that is; that
she was all connected to it. I laughed as it made no sense. But a
couple years in the future while living at Guthrie Short's mansion,
at 231 Route 73, in Blue Anchor, New Jersey; my caller ID showed
'BRAXTON' each time some black dude called me and acted really weird
and reef-whacked, and I could hear female voices off in the distance.
Extensive research showed many things after the nineties ended, as I
began doing some leg work. Also, in 1997, while still at the
Somerdale death house, while out at the Pure City Recording Studio,
in Philadelphia, nine or ten months before I met Sir PP, and was
trying to get the song that I wrote recorded, 'SARAH', I was put
through hell beyond anything anyone could start to freaking imagine.
I had written this back at the Highview Apartments on May 12, 1996,
about four months before purchasing that nightmare Somerdale home
where Sinatra's dirt bag fan club president, Mike Stozny Snotsy,
persecuted me day and night, forcing me to sell the home at a
$30,000.00 loss, and leading me, between that, and PP and his garbage
country music venture, into bankruptcy court. But while at that
studio one day, I left and was at the elevator to go down to the
street level of the building, and when the elevator came, a
doppelganger of Paula Giant King was there. Why was she there? What
possible reason did she have for being there, just a short time after
the second rape where maintenance man Sam saw her enter my apartment,
only I have zero memory of her doing it. This is how she later
miscarried PEE! She got David Gardner and that Robinson guy who was
the lawyer partner, turned against me, and it was a total nightmare.
This was all just a couple months after Paula Uwich began taking
great sums of money from me in return for delivering Sarah to me. I
won't say she did not do this, in fact, I doubt that forty grand was
ever spent in history, to show anyone exactly where God was hiding in
carnal form. The money was cheap when you take a Twinbay freaking
attitude about it. But during all these incredible things, there was
a day while I was on the telephone and speaking with Paula, and
suddenly she fell dead asleep and there was snoring on the other end
of the line. A similar event happened in late 1988 out near Taylor
Cottage in Exton, Pennsylvania. I was speaking directly with a man
named Ray Young, and suddenly he was sound asleep. For a long time I
believed some force was doing this until I came to wonder if maybe I
had some strange ability to hypnotize people. This is when one day
while in a business meeting at Invent-Help at their Cherry Hill
Office, I decided to try and play around with this, and before I knew
it, the salesman had totally admitted to me that it was all a farce,
and no one ever was made to profit by this company. It was just a big
scam, despite current day boxer Foreman getting behind 'his buddies'
there. Not long ago, I ran into someone locally here that caused a
lot of trouble for me ever since. This person told me that I had the
same ability McGuire has, and that my daughter has. She also told me
my daughter hypnotized me that day at that house, after I had given
her a lift from the throat specialist's office back to this house, at
her request. There is a lot more to all of this and this is a mere
surface crust of a very deep well, people. Whenever I am near any of
these people, I have to picture something along the lines of the
Three Stooges smacking each other and hearing those goofy noise sound
effects, or a room where they and a party of 100 other people all are
throwing pies at each other. This for whatever reason, short circuits
the ability of these Washcloth Telepathic Travelers. This person also
told me that puns are powerful with them, for reasons that would take
a million Einstein minds to properly understand. When I asked what
was meant by this, I got the answer, “You know, like 1986 and Nick
At Night, and along those lines” That's a quote. I tried pumping a
little further, and just got a smirky smile. I couldn't help but to
think of ADA Ron Wirtz back early in the nineties, when he told me
how he was getting smiley-face responses, when attempting to
communicate with 'OTAMM'. Many people of all walks of life, rich and
poor, fat and thin, short and tall, white and black, blue or yellow,
atheist to believers, and on and on; JUST LOVE PLAYING GAMES. My own
fucking mother was one of these kind of people, rest her fucked up
dam soul!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mountainpen
may climb the highest mountain someday, and never be able to know why
people love games so much, but they all basically do. Long story
short (LSS), only Morianity supplied a real dam good answer, the
bored to tears gods needing the ultimate and quintessential
distraction from endlessness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You may agree, you may
disagree, and you don't need me to tell you that, BUTT,
big ass emmereffing BUTT;
if
you think long and hard on this,
and
then try making pieces to fit, that supply some sort of answer,
making some sort of sense, and compare the teachings of Morianity
against anything else ever offered up, and unless you really are a
moron, IMHO;
you'll
see the truth here.
Still, as the song from 1983, called GITYA, written by none other
than me, the Mountainpen; puts it in its lyrical content, “The
mountain tops are there to climb”. It was years and decades before
I knew the great King family would do all those wonderful things to
me in the following century and millennium. God to I fuckiGN sound
old as shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WO BILLY.
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