The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 146

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 146

Things have never ever been this bad, not through the cunt chewing eighties, nineties, twenty-ohs or the first half of the second decade of century-21. As I seemed to have a 'knowing' about all along, 2015 has been the year I will sink below the deep blue fucking cunt sea, no doubt about it at all, Miss Chillie and Lenny McKinnon of Citizens Band Radio-Land.

Everywhere I go, everything I try to do, I am fucked with, ignored, and treated like total mother fucking trash, and can totally relate to lovely Misses Harker of Niagara Falls Canada, Lawandorderville!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If I did not die and go to eternal hell a very mother fucking long time ago, this would not be happening. It is beyond mother fucking surreal and paranormal times the cube of infinity, and all Cuban whorehouses of Atlantic City, NJ, USA!

People at Publix fucked with me, people in the elevator fucked with me, and there is no one to turn to, no one who could give a mother fucking dick throbbing rats fucking ass about me at all. If no one believes, then no one can help, even if they fucking really wanted to, which by the way, they DON'T! And that in or out of 1986, is not REAL GOOD, not for dam ass me aniwho, YO!

The night in early December just shortly past my birthday, in 1985; while driving across an intersection in Woodbury, New Jersey; I was in an accident that tore me to shreds and I know I perished. No way could I have survived it. Yet, and this is only one time in dozens; I seemed to sail right past the incident and be further down a time line by a few seconds. On this particular night, I was driving into a place called Bechtel Power, in New Jersey, to pull a midnight shift doing security guard work, in southwest New Jersey, and while residing at Highview Apartments for the first of two stays at this slumlord place. I was young and dumb, and had my car radio up a little bit, nothing at all like these mother fucking total idiots today that we can all hear coming for miles. But it was sufficiently loud as to block the sounds at the intersection, and even though I had a green light, a police cruiser was barreling down with lights and sirens, on the intersecting main drag of Broadway, and I was on one of the streets heading towards it from the north, approaching the court house that was across this main drag. A fairly big building on the corner closest to where this all went down, obstructed the view of the flashing lights, and helped to block out the sound of the siren, especially since my car radio was up a bit. All of a sudden, this policeman's eyeballs became mine and mine became his, this is no fuckiGN exaggeration. Then I was three seconds past the situation as if nothing ever happened and that was that. There is no way we missed crashing into each other at deadly speeds. As I pen these words, I have some real mother fucking assholes all over this building today, screaming and making all sorts of sounds straight out of mother fucking hell. But speaking of hell, there is no way I have been alive in a real world for a very long time. In my opinion, since August 15, 1986. Let's leave all girls, curls, fences, and Supermen from NASA movies, out of all of this shit, shall we, great folks? On top of this fucking shit, it's hot as all fucking dogshit around here this week!!!!!!!!!!

MAY 20, 2015,

EARLY WEDNESDAY EVENING AT 5:36,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 87 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY----(H-89/L-66).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 57%, FEELING LIKE 93.

WIND IS 0.

PREDICTED HIGH TODAY IS 88.

This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO???????????? This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO???????????? This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO???????????? This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO???????????? This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO???????????? This is a very cold cruel evil mother fucking world, kind peeps, or unkind, whatever, huh congressman, YO????????????

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MILITUFORCE ENEMIES:

1----PLACE 100 POUND DUMBELL ROPE AROUND YOUR BODY AND TIE IT TIGHT.

2----WALK DFOWN THE STAIRS BELOW AND KEEP RIGHT ON GOING.

3----HAVE YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER, AND ALL OF YOUR KIDS, DO THE VERY SAME THING THAT YOU JUST DID.

The ground persecution is major, and I am major sick on top of it. Things for me have never been this bad, and shortly, I should be dead. Then there is nothing more this evil fucking cunt empire can do to me, you just cannot hurt a dead fucking person any more, and this will be the beginning of their fucking total fucking doomsday that will last three and a half years, tribulation second part, PART-B. Then the generation of reestablished Israel will not pass away before this shit blows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All this mother fucking shit was told about by future beings who via ESS go back and start all this dog fucking shit to begin with, literally. Just ask Professor Kaku of NYU, I do not want anyone to ever take my word for mother fucking shit!

Wow is there a dam dark shadow surrounding my life, since the doctor smacked my ass, around half past nine on Saturday morning, at the Bryn Mawr, PA, USA Hospital, on December 4, 1954. JEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE!!!!!!!!!!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The reason that I began talking about reversals and reflections is due to many things, peeps. First, the truth shows up in mirrors and when things go upside down. It is where the expression of 'shaking things up' to get at truth really came from, but this is another somewhat intentionally covered up piece of human reality. Hans Worshing was the director of the Philadelphia Boys club, as it was called back in 1967, when I met the man. I had lived just a block away for eighteen months, at 2041 Chestnut Street and did not know he was there. Only after my mom tried to secure a 'big brother' for me, and I was given the first of two dudes, Mister Fred Hinger, the head drummer of the then Philly Philharmonic. They had a nice home in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and he and another pal of his who was a couple years older than me, were being taught how to drum on drum pads. This dude's name was Dominick. He was a very cool dude, as was sir Hans Worshing of the Boys Club. Most of you who know a little bit about my two big brothers from this organization, know mostly about the second dude, Mister Colorado hailed from, John Henningsen, of the Campbell's Soup Company, Camden, New Jersey Office. This was a cover, as he was a major ESS traveler with the CIA. I know that now and did not have a clue back then. But then all the alphabet soup agencies are owned by the one absolute one, the ESS. Still, this is the kind of top secret Majestic level purple and nine Ron Wirtz shit that gets folks killed. But then, hay I am a dead man right now, who is going out like a balloon losing its air, so what do I have to lose? John took me to a secret building across from the City Line Philly studios, where numerous television broadcasters are headquartered. Right across to the east was the building John Henningsen took me too a few times with the magic one way mirror rooms. Later I realized Campbell's Soup had no reason for interrogation rooms, and he has to be ESS, or you might go as far as say CIA or NSA, but as stated, these all fit nicely into the one and only owner/controller, the great powerful ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society). John as you know gave me the great magical chain, that a year later give or take, seemed to fascinate the Almighty gamer-owner being of this entire gamogram-simulation (cosmos), Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Also on the north side, across from City Line Avenue, in this Bala Cynwyd section of Philadelphia's main line suburban area; is my doctor I went to before the great family sent me packing, in the middle of an icy cold gods-forsaken night, off to fucking ass Florida; five and a half dam ass years back into time now, YO! Oh boy oh oh boy, my mom comes to me in a powerful dream to warn me not to move in with these washcloths from hell, while still at Jenny Plageman's trailer park, and then boom, clueless me is forever destroyed. Twenty years ago today, Clueless Poolroy gave me three wild books from the Washington Heights, New York Public Library. One of them shows a science laboratory where Windows are displayed on a computer, long before the windows-95 times ever came to be, as this was back around 1965. Someday this entire time and hyperspace is going to blow up in all of our faces, Mister Ron Wirtz, so 'purple and 9', to you too, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not only are mirrors, and things that reflect major; Mister 1969 Sidney Mommyboyfriend Cohencrown Jewshame; but the real truths go so far beyond any of this, that it would all rank right up there in the purple and nine area of Ron Prosecutor ADA Wirtz of December 5, 1989, the day we met and the day after I turned age 35 years, as Mark Wayne Mohr and his crummy scummy miserable life. Holy WOW, KALI CLAN. Time for this poor old bastard to go and wash up! Hey I'm all washed up anyway, right folks? What did I tell you guys back in the summer of 1997, John and Photeous, on 10-SC Avenue, on your parking lot that day, next to WAYV's Paula King lot???????????????? And think about this one: I did not consciously know or remember a thing about all of this now existing Morianity! But I have indeed cycled around for 200 times give or take, David Speas and Mister Corsakolf McCoy!!!

Two reasons exist for my knowing I am in hell, once of course totally understanding that human being's concepts of 'heaven' and 'hell' is not a location, but an Astral condition-interaction that exists in plank-reality. First, I do not ever die and stay dead, not yet anyway. Second, there is no way for all of this to be real, and yet it is, or said more accurately, appears real inside of a huge illusion of cosmic mirrors and smoke. The biggest fucking shit is the way everyone around my mother and I, all seemed to be totally connected like an electrical circuit, into absolute positive interactiveness with cosmos, or negative. Negative would be Mike Gutherman, and the recent motorcycle dude that recent blogs told about. Positive ones, well, if you cannot name five right off the top of your head, shame on both Shirley Dancers company of 1974, and YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Making this super short, the biggest kicker is the seventies, not before in the sixties or after, just as my wonderful daughter seemed to know all along, and told me, in a round about way. This has all been blogged, along with all other very negative HLS, I guess for the both of us, but I cannot and will not speak for others, that is rude and then if I act that way, who am I to complain about others when they do? I have spoken my dirt eating peace for today, BRO. Nighty-nite and happy-din-din Betty Roach Davis Dinnerplates!!!!!!!!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 146

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