FUCK THE ESS, CHAPTER 21/22

FUCK THE ESS, CHAPTER 21/22

FEBRUARY 18, 2015,

WEDNESDAY NIGHT AT 10:40,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 49 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY-----(H-65/L-48)

HUMIDITY IS 50%, FEELING 45 WITH WIND CHILL.

WIND IS NNW AT 10 WITH GUSTS TO 22.

MUCH OF FLORIDA WILL WAKE UP TO FREEZING TEMPS.

Well, the north did not steal what little winter Florida gets, this year; not that they would want to. I did not sweat all that much while out at the grocery store buying some Publix brand ice cream this afternoon. But I did take a utility attack, another weird attack with my car stereo, after almost a year or so without this problem. It would play almost anything, but let me put even a mechanical imitation of my daughter on it, as is on my harmony track, on the YBCO song © 2013; and it fucks up and stops playing. I am going to make a new tape off the master copy in the computer, and if this persists, I will go to the feds if I have to, and show them that this is being done to me. There is no rational physical world explanation for fuckiGN shit like this. I could see it if it was real, but a techno-pop sampling from an old 1984 conversation, and this gets beyond fuckiGN ridiculous, down at 10Mg or any dosage!

I had to go through a nuclear-plant testing before I left on my errand route. It is so absurd and stupid. Even an emergency worker told me some time ago, if something really went wrong with the Saint Lucie Nuclear Plant, we'd all be fuckiGN dead, and the whole thing is a silly waste, but they love to do it aniwho, YO!

The nabe-situation was some cleaner-peeps, who came to one of the apartments with all sorts of cleaning supplies, and really went on a cleaning frenzy, in the apartment they were in. Good. Stuff like this keeps the roaches in check. WEEEEE!!!!!

But in all seriousness, a car player that plays any tape except wherever the 'YBCO' song, or just the harmony track by itself, is on. Yeah, Eddie Lynch, explain all these teasing Scylla games away, IF YOU CAN, BUD, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have lots of pessimistic news, but I don't share the type of news that would get Twinbay all goose bumped up with thrill and joy. What can I say, burning or not burning, JAY-JAY EVANS. Good times? No, I don't think so, Mizz Discovery Zone cutie-pie!

There are several things that I could be dancing in the dam streets over; but I learned a long mother fuckiGN time ago, to keep my jerk off mouth shut! What did you say to me McNulty? WHAAAAAAAA!

July 12 and December 7 were huge dates for me in the historical account of my life, especially in 1996 and 1970. If all of this shit was not one huge nightmare game, it would have stopped long ago, allowing me to live at least some fucking semblance of normalcy. When this went on, decade after decade, after fucking decade; common sense told me, Mountainpen, remember Mister Smith's Haddonfield, NJ-USA blackboard. My dad's pal had his, I suppose, why shouldn't I then have mine? There's some fuckiGN logic there, I suppose, small as it may appear to anyone reading this. W—O—W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

© MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS, 2006-2015

Hey there lovely AG Bondi; why shouldn't I have a magic fucked up music player in my car? After-all; I have a magic daughter? But please don't ask me why a dog shouldn't god dam live in a doghouse; pretty pretty pweeeze with a ton of sugar all over it, ma'am!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With my personal magnetics being so crumby and low, and me loving rain and lightning, this means, it won't happen, or at least a betting person should always bet this way, as they would grow as rich as Napoleon hill, the Queen of England, and my Cousin Donald, all put together; before all would be said and done, and the fat lady finishes her song! The fate awaiting all flesh, is my only salvation!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes sir.

Strange shit is going on, as always, and (behind the OZ CURTAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “Oh well”, Dad and Sammy Montgomery. SHEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Go wash my fucking mouth out with soap, cousin of newscaster Les Kaiter. See if I care. WHAAAAAAAAAAA. Put that on your blackboard; David Leigh Smith, in 1970!!!!!

Signal energy dots (SEDS) and MAGNESONIC, wow what a topic this all could lead into if I was not in an extremely cosmic weakened position at present time illusion of STM, good peeps, YO!

Mister Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton, seem to be one of several major things that occurred in late '82 and early into '83 that forever altered my nightmare fucking life. But there is way more to these folks than what has been told. Herby the inventor is a story all its own, and he knew me before I thought I knew him, sort of a Next-Gen Star Trek “Time's Arrow” episode with lovely Whoopee Goldberg. But this, as can heaven, to quote just about everybody; CAN WAIT!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.