SAGA
OF NON-SONGWRITER MARK MUD
CHAPTER
00027
Lots
of stuff is happening and it is not all safe to blog. Some is
really-really Ingrid-84 BAD, and some is really-really INGRID-84
GOOD. Well, good in the sense that I had thought the world had fully
and totally crashed in on me, and no one needs to know the details.
Naturally, I will say what I feel can be safely said, such as for
total beginners, just discussing pals in my youth causes me lots of
trouble. You can see that. But the pal I had in-between good old Andy
Lichtenstein and Bruce Pennock and the other 'Gang From Cooley Hall',
has barely been touched on, good old son of 'ice-tealicious' Grace
Messenger. Even though Bruce Pennock should be the most powerful
hush-hush in this party of non-Sarah-5, Andy, Brad, Bruce, Jerry, and
Bob; only the details of how I came to experiment around with lots of
no-no electronics is when I get myself into dangerous territory on a
blog or any kind of potential public forum.
Today's
temperature range so far was a high of 81 and a low of 54, here in
Fort Pierce, Florida. Winds are west at 13 and gusting to 33. Current
temperature here is 73 degrees.
My
recent physical health decline that began on the eighth day of
December of 2014, worsened by major teeth problems hitting me while
still in the fucking throws of the first problem, and I am one very
sick pup, peeps!
I
had a very productive talk with my Resident Manager about quite a few
things, and that's all I am going to say, other than for the fact
that she needed to be made aware that I probably will not last too
much longer, and will be dead and gone, YAY, YAY, YAY!!!!!!!!!!!
You
got me JANE WHORE MONSTER-SLAPPER WITCH-BITCH, AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!
I
don't know about the midnight train to Georgia, or the Georgia Font,
but I do know about a ballpark, a year that was called 1993, and a
mean spirited horrible witch who damaged my life beyond repair with
that zoom-in clock attack on television, by her and her rotten prick
hubby broadcaster network owner, Mister Shithead Teddy Turner, YO YO
YO YO!!!!
I
want all of this on the record; old friend from 1972, in Dan Mackey's
class, at Cooley Hall at school, Bob McDowell; and all other
authorities out here,
who
need to do their job to protect and ensure my civil freaking rights,
YO
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
it is now 82 degrees and we are under a tornado watch here.
WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As
for the 42,000 dollar nightmare, there was more and I did not tell
you the fucking shit, but now all hell has busted cunt sucking loose,
there's nothing for me to cunt eating asshole lose!!!!!!!!!!!!
No good folks, it
is not 83 nor is there a tornado watch. Diana was supposed to come
around, but decided not to, probably to quote her, the reason why is,
“You've been swearing too bad lately, little boy”. She's right. I
have not only a major infected mouth, but a dirty one too. Mack
Kaiter knew that in 1968 when he washed it out with soap, at summer
camp, the Camp Chesapeake Summer Camp of Northeast, Maryland. That
really is the name of the town there by the way, for non-local peeps
to that area. Across the great Chesapeake Bay was the town of
Aberdeen, and all of this to me, was yesterday, lovely Louise? Still,
just how did I know about the RED-XXXXX-thing,
some wonder?
SPACE-TIME-MIND
is the answer, folks, (STM). This is the same thing that explains
away stuff that either you or someone that you most likely know, of
similar weird paranormal type of property containment. STM is why
Quantum Physics says that if things in the material world are not
observed, on a tiny quantum level, they are always in flux. This is
the magic duality of STM and hyperspace. Actually, it's a little bit
more complicated, but it can indeed be boiled down to this little bit
of simplicity.
WOW,
the world sucks. I had to pay $42,000.00 for something that made no
sense whatsoever in my exploratron travels last night. Thank the
gods, my energies are now focused on this atomic signature of
so-called ''reality''. Still, after that, my noisy nabes were
squawking annoyingly all morning in the hallway as they still are
now, and
this is because of the Manhattan Disaster as I have now called it
privately, since the middle mother fucking nineteen-eighties, lovely
TOLDUSO GINA. Oh Bruce, my keyboards need some more adjusting, YO!
Heaven help the sister, huh Stephanie Taylor?????? Well that's just
my little slant on stuff, but it's permitted, Heinz and
Mashell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
are some dynamite preachers on that TBN television system. The one to
watch when you really need to be boosted and uplifted close to
Twinbay's level, is Mister Osteen. He told two jokes during this
week's sermons that had me rolling around on my floor in here, even
though I was in severe pain. Especially the one with the bear. With
his permission, hopefully, I am going to re-tell it on my blog, it's
quite short but funny as all get out, cubed! A man was out camping
and suddenly sees this giant bear running right towards him, looking
famished and mean. This man, being a Christian, thre his arms in the
sky and yelled out, ''Lord, please make this bear become a
Christian''. A few seconds later, the bear, being right on top of
him, stopped completely, stood up on his legs with his front paws
also in the air, and said, ''Lord, thank you for this food and let it
be a blessing''. As I said, if you don't know this Osteen character,
there is nobody like him, and even the great Twinbay could take
positive upbeat attitude lessons from this marvelous man. You cannot
sit through half a sermon without his picking your spirits up a
thousand dam percent. You really do need to watch him.
As
I said lovely Gina, and everyone else, destroy and wreck a weekend
like what the enemies just did to me, and you bank on a huge uptick
bullish Monday and week, on the DOW JONES STOCK
MARKETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TOLD
YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, MY GINA!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
MISSED ME JANE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE
WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU MISSED ME JANE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE
WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU MISSED ME JANE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE
WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED ME JANE
WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HA-HA-HA-HA-HA
YOU WATER WITCH BITCH!
Oh
boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy,
life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life
stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life
stinks! Oh boy, life stinks! Oh boy, life stinks!!!!!!
I
feel a lot of fucking evil all around me, surrounding me, and I am in
a lot of fucking danger, and Diana is unable to protect me now as she
was that day in 1986 when she told me this, in our special electron
to human coded communications. I
feel a lot of fucking evil all around me, surrounding me, and I am in
a lot of fucking danger, and Diana is unable to protect me now as she
was that day in 1986 when she told me this, in our special electron
to human coded communications.
I
feel a lot of fucking evil all around me, surrounding me, and I am in
a lot of fucking danger, and Diana is unable to protect me now as she
was that day in 1986 when she told me this, in our special electron
to human coded communications.
Oh
yes, I'd love to mother fucking start over. I would do a lot of shit
differently. Or would I? Someday, I'll get into more of this shit,
IPYT!
HELP
ME SHERIFF KM, anything you can do for me these days would
be greatly appreciated, to quote Angela and Donna from Central Park,
the day after the great day of terror, ask the Copyright Office, they
know exploratronics is real, and that Donna Adrian Gaines was an
active TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. They have the magic FRANK MILLS song that
discusses the entire thing. Also the L&O peeps seem to be able to
know many many things that go beyond rational coincidence, before the
shit gets around to happening in normal regular time. Sound at all
familiar. Here is the music project, most likely this crap is on
somewhere. I of course did not claim the copyright, merely that this
was added onto my own material to make a live presentation of my
suffering back late in the cunt chewing nineteen-eighties. I did all
I could, I am not Mike Laggy, or God, and this is not 1977,
BRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Public Catalog |
|
Search
Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
|
|
Search
Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.
|
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
No,
Mizz
wonderful Twinbay, I
am not the most glass half full person you will ever come to meet,
back late in oh-eight. Sorry
girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
fate awaiting all flesh, is my only salvation. To quote the great
Father Lucci in the fantastic movie from 1988, speaking of
copyrighted musical projects; called, “The 7th
Sign”, I know I can count on this. Yes, free at last, drums beating
in both decades, blacks in or out of the military, and exploratrons
chirping wildly in their signal energy dot states, oh great lovely
Maggie; hallelujah I will be free at last, Martino King, great
sir!!!! ''Ffffffffffuck ththththththis shshshshshit'', Henry Fonda
and all angry juries everywhere!!!!
The
answer to all my troubles and all and any of your as well, whoever
you may be out there, is one word.
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
EXPLORATRONICS*****
As
always, lovely Diana,
your moon was with me all night long, shining down and loving me,
awesome goddess. IWALU so, and I need your codes to show, MY
WONDERFUL LIGHTNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
Mister
Simpson, and then his two side kicks, Herby Letts, and George Belton,
IS
THIS A TOPIC I COULD GO ON AND ON WITH FOR ABOUT TEN MOTHER FUCKING
YEARS, KIND FOLKS!
THE
WEATHER BUG,
In
Partnership With
and
shared by this blogger, who may be contacted through:
Local Weather Cameras
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
There
are some things that need to be said!!!!!
SO
THEY GET SAID IN MORIANITY, YO.
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
ALONG
WITH THE GREAT WEATHER BUG APP, WEEEE!
MARK WAYNE MOHR AND HIS BLOGS
FROM JANUARY 2006-PRESENT DAYS:
2006-2015 © MOUNTAINPEN
© MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS,
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, 2006-2015
Original
five blogs:
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views - 3018
My blogs
About me
|
Gender
|
Male
|
|---|---|
|
Industry
|
|
|
Occupation
|
|
|
Location
|
|
|
Introduction
|
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'.
|
|
Interests
|
|
|
Favorite
Movies
|
|
|
Favorite
Music
|
|
|
Favorite
Books
|
You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother.
At
the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure
of is that you cannot be sure of anything. OOOPS, sorry lovely
Twinbay!
NEBNOOSHOO,
THE WASHCLOTHS HAVE .
www.firstpost.com
› Topics
Dedicated
to Nina's daughter and her three friends in 1997 who followed me
down Tennessee Ave. in Atlantic City, all the way to the future
mayor's lifeguard tower.
Fort
Pierce, FL
- Fort Pierce, FL
About
6,160 results (0.30 seconds)
Search Results
|
I
LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH, MY LIGHTNING. LET YOUR WONDERFUL COSMIC
CODES SHOW HOW YOU REVEALED TO ME, YOU ARE MIDDIE; AND WORKED WITH
ME FOR SO LONG, AND PUT UP WITH ME; TEEN QUEEN
GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Florida
Attorney
General
Pam
Bondi
Width: 300px
Height: 300px
Resolution: 72 ppi
Size: 67.5 KB
Format: .jpgDownload
Large
Picture
Width: 4080px
Height: 4080px
Stay Connected
Width: 4080px
Height: 4080px
Stay Connected
Provide
your email address below to receive the Attorney General's Weekly
Briefing featuring the latest news and updates on top issues.
I
know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank
you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in
New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands
are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean.
I
am in so much pain and agony that I would like to blow up this entire
fucking world if that is what it would take to stop this horrible
fucking shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Too
many things are existing by pure weird happenstance for this not to
be Sara Karge's simulation, Professor Kaku sir. I do not expect you
or anybody to know my life move by move, as if you could properly
analyze this as a huge chess game; and then try and either prove or
disprove me and all my claims and stories on a scientific level. It
is extremely unfortunate that this cannot be done, at least not yet,
not until a time arrives when all things can be scanned and examined,
and later still, toyed with and messed with in a sort of endless
overdubbing process of intermingled interacted life on life, as
though we back here in less enlightened times were merely blobs
inside a Packman videogame from 1980, and wow, I did say, Lois Foca
1980. The one and only 1980. Oh well, all this and 3 and a half
bucks, will get any of us a cup of Joe tomorrow, and maybe a stale
bagel, at the local donut shop.
Oh
great Congressman, how I remember the old days and you saying
whatever so many times at Albert Pileggi's basement. 'whatever',
Oak Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak
Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975;'whatever', Oak
Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak
Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak
Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak Street Bob-1975; 'whatever', Oak
Street Bob-1975!!!!!
I
have seen more paranormal supernatural stuff, than any gang of folks
put together that I am aware of. Is this because of mere coincidence,
because I look for it, or because IT LOOKS FOR ME? Well, examine
which part of the question that I fucking capitalized, lads and
lassies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
name-number, or
total alphabetized value of letters making up the words, “STAR
TREK” is 112. I
resided at two locations with that street address number. First, in
1979 and into 1980, before moving into the Robin Hill Apartments of
Voorhees Township in New Jersey, I was at 112 East Fifth Avenue in
Mantua, New Jersey, and later in 1996 into 1998 before leaving for
Guthrie Short's Blue Anchor mansion on 5 acres of land, I was at the
Somerdale, New Jersey DEATH-HOUSE as I call it now, at 112 Harvard
Avenue. Powerful coincidence, Mister Rotten Berry, Blucran and all
other berries of transdimensional hyperspace, WEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
No comments:
Post a Comment