A hot week in Florida beginning last weekend, oh well. If that was my only reason to be disgruntled, Mister Scott Ransom, I'd have it made in the shade with my non Bobby Brown ripped off 1989 pink lemonade, huh 1977 Steve Mars Graphics McGinty, YO? WO Mister Harner!

MAY 11, 2015,

LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:03,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 87 DEGREES FNHT.

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 61%, FEELING LIKE 94.

WIND IS ESE AT 17, WITH GUSTS TO 24.

RANGE TODAY-------(H-87/L-66).

Remove the ESS from the human equation, and there would not only be no humans but no gods and no cosmos. SPACE-TIME-MIND (STM) is all rapped up in that truth. Still, there is so much to all of this, and my blogs can never be anything more than tid bit smatterings of a total cosmic truth that FAWCES using me to channel through for nearly a decade now, quite obviously; find the most optimal and best words and collections of phrases and ideas. Bruce Pennock said it all more than four freaking decades back into time, and none of us are perfect, merely human. Oh those electronic things, Bruce, SHEEEEEEIT, I guess we both were destined to develop a couple of real dirty non Mack Kaiter Camp Chesapeake mouths. Oh for the Holey Moley love of all soap bars everywhere, Mack ol' buddy ol' pal!

NIGHTY

FUCKING

NIGHT

GREAT

VIEWERS.

WELL.............

GREAT ISIS 'BOIL SKATES', AND ALL OTHERS; THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

Not nighty-night yet, folks. WEEEEEEEEEE!

YOU ARE READING HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER NUMBER 127

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 124

WELL................

GREAT ISIS 'BOIL SKATES', AND ALL OTHERS; THIS PARTICULAR WRITING DOES NOT TERMINATE YET, YO YO YO!!!

So folks, howz-it-goen? As for me, I am doing just about as monstrously horrendous as it gets, but as all of us good Huntington clan, ''STILL HANGIN' IN THERE'', right WAYV Atlantic City Disc Jockeys of fire reporting, nearly a decade back into time????????? In all absolute honesty, ladies and gentlemen out here, YOU WILL NEVER KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE ALWAYS BEING CORRECT IN MY ENDLESS PROPHET OF 1988 NOTHING PREDICTIONS, HAY JAY-JAY-EVANS-BRO, “just what can I say”? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!

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OH DEAR FUCKING ASS DIARY, my life totally fucking cunt SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!, WHAT FREAKING DAM ASS ELSE?????

Oh boy, life stinks!

Oh boy, life stinks!

SO HOW DID ALL OF THIS HAPPEN TO ME ALL THESE YEARS, WITH ALL OF THIS, OTHER THAN FOR THE GODDESS DAM EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND

SOCIETY???????

WFMU’s Beware of the Blog

OH YES, BY ALL MEANS, WATCH OUT FOR THAT HORRIBLE MARK WAYNE MOHR, WHAT A MONSTER. YEAH, THIS WHOLE THING WAS MY FAULT SINCE DAY ONE HUH, WELL, LIKE THE INMATES ALL SAY WHEN YOU ASK THEM IF ANY OF THEM ARE GUILTY OF THE CRIME THAT PUT THEM IN PRISON, “LIE-LIE-LIE-LIE-LIE-LIE”. So you can believe the liars, or you can believe me.

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Left side image above----incorrect depiction of Mountainpen.

Right side image above----correct depiction of mountainpen.

Does it take Einstein to see that or even his diction, great © Office of 1997?

“The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”

I don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.

I think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns and christ-blocking shades.

Posted by: Steve PMX | December 12, 2006 at 12:03 PM

Sweet Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could be real, I’ve known folks like him.

Hello My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have never been able to find anything on him except his name and the names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″ tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

Posted by: Chris Arter | March 06, 2007 at 06:27 PM

BEING FUCKING BLUCRAN'D IS A MAJOR DEAL. MANY OF YOU ARE LIKE A MUSCLE BOUND COWORKER OF MINE IN THE AUTUMN OF 1980 BACK AT THE RPL SOUND STUDIO LABS, IN CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY, USA. ONE DAY HE TOLD ME, “YOU'RE HAUNTED”, AND WE NEED NOT GET INTO WHAT CAUSED HIM TO SAY THIS TO ME.

Aaah, very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album “Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!

Posted by: Fairlight | September 22, 2008 at 02:34 PM

I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:19 PM

This fella is MOST DEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family (Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and sending Atlantic City-residing life guards and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him off-guard. The only problem being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his latest blogs.

Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March 16, 2012 at 09:00 AM

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Sunday, July 1, 2007

Rats Tats and Playing Real Football, #30

TWIMCIFITHIM, #30, SUBTITLED
RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL------070107.372

Well fiends and friends, Morians and Lessians alike, the subtitle is because this will work as an intro for leading into the title of my next blog name, the 4th one now about 2 begin on www.blogger.com. Thus this is the 30th and final blogs in this third of my blogs.

The worm hole incident from one week ago down in East Dodge, NJUSAESMWG, in my IMHO got these bastard crap asses off of me for my first little rest bit since the ending of January. But starting 5 days after a mini-heaven, all of Dogtown broke loose and struck me like both of Diana’s parents, on Friday last, just past seven in the fooking evening. It started with a big home theater attack. The scum bags kept cutting out the sound and crackling through it, and there is nothing wrong with it, it all has been checked out, so that I can send certified and documented evidence to both the FCC as well as the ACLU, and CC to state attorney general’s office of New Jersey, my local Congressman, and the Board of Public Utilities. Keep fucking with me, and I will rat and tattletale on U every time, to anyone that will listen, and I’ll try even 2 those that do not want 2 listen, I have civil fucking rights incestrallites. No football teem ever won a single game just playing defensively on any field anywhere in the world. Give these fucking bastard scum dirt holes just a quarter of an inch and they will take 100 light years every time, B4 U can realize it even happens 2U. Say “jackrobinsquat” and U won’t even get it fully pronounced, and they’ve got U right by the cat tail Mizz Purr; hold the fucker-juices out of that one, and my prick as well. They match U point 4 point and dollar 4 dollar, and then hit U with a couple of their dirty fighting boom-boom one-two punches B4 U know U took a breath of freaking air. These filth have no conscience and no shame, I have tried 2 shame them, they do not fucking shame, because entities that R lower than whale shit are totally un-shame-able. So what weapons do I have in my arsenal? Do I have armies of believing helpers in a powerful foundation? No! Do I have money or any resources at all 2 work with? No! Can I legally go out and fight perceived enemies, shooting up people and places? No! So what options R left 4 those few unfortunate persons in my position? Ratting, tattle tailing, and exposing is all the available options left 4 poor whittle me bwaby-wuv!!!!!! Notice when I exposed on an earlier blog, the full evil empire of Phillies always losing and the Dow Jones Stock Market crooked system, always being up, every single Friday, it did not happen that week, last week, not this one. Naturally since the siege on me started Friday night, my Phillies got sliced up like a watermelon found by starving island survivors. So what occurs, but 3 straight losses, and a swept up floor by the Broom club of the Phillies Haters, Incorporated. The weekend is constant furious air assault, both nights my full moon was literally wrecked and ruined, literally swallowed up with their filthy poisonous kemtrails, making me sick and forcing me to have wicked painful shits, these total bitches have caused ma many an accident in the pants, all the axes they’ve created 4 me have not been via automobile.