HALLS
WALLS, CHAPTER
191
HALLS
WALLS, CHAPTER 124
Gee
wow, we've got you GOOOOOOOUD, Mountainpen.
You're
on my last nerve, Dawn!
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
JUNE
12, 2015,
LATE
FRIDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:30,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 88 DEGREES FNHT.
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 66%, & IT FEELS LIKE 98.
WIND
IS AT , GUSTING TO .
RANGE
TODAY-----(H-/L-).
INSTRUCTIONS
FOR MILITUFORCE ENEMIES:
1----PLACE
100 POUND DUMBELL ROPE AROUND YOUR BODY AND TIE IT TIGHT.
2----WALK
DOWN 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.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You
guys don't like me to say it, but it's true. Dawn says it is what it
is, and I say that's just reality, so what's the big difference?
Give
it a freaking rest Dennis Snyder!
I
AM UNDER A MOTHER FUCKING SUPER DEATH ATTACK. NOT ONLY AM I SICK AND
DYING; BUT THIS EVIL COCK SUCKING MILITUFORCE, HAS BROKEN ANOTHER
VIDEO MACHINE; AND THE CIRCUMSTANCES TO THIS EVENT, ARE MORE
MYSTERIOUS THAN ANYTHING YET, WITH ALL OF THESE VIDEO FUCK UPS, FOR
CLOSE TO TWO CUNT CHEWING YEARS NOW.
I
HAVE BEEN SOMEHOW BLUCRAN-TRANSPORTED AGAIN, FOR ABOUT THE 99TH TIME,
THROUGH TRANSDIMENSIONAL FUCKING HYPERSPACE. BUT THAT IS NOT WHERE
FUCKING SHIT ENDED, SHERIFF K.M., SIR. I HIT THE REWIND BUTTON TO PUT
THE MOVIE BOX IN THE BOX AND AWAY, AND WHEN IT GOT TO THE BEGINNING
OR JUST ABOUT THE BEGINNING, THE FUCKING CUNT HUFFING TAPE SHUT OFF
AND THE WORD 'ERROR' DISPLAYED ON MY VCR WINDOW. THIS HAS NEVER
HAPPENED BEFORE. THE TAPE WILL NOT WORK, AND IT WILL NOT EJECT, SO I
HAVE A BROKEN FUCKING CUNT STUCK TAPE IN MY CUNT CHEWING FUCKING
MACHINE. ALSO, I HAVE FOUND ANOTHER REPAIR
SHOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
MISSED ME, MISS SLEAZEWEEDSDISEASE, JANE MISERIES!!!!!
CALLIO'S--A&R--ASTRAL--FLOWER
People
who have never done projection, are clueless to so many powerful
awesome mother fucking things, and yet, it is me who envies
them!!!!!! Now go fucking figure.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
I
AM BEING PERSECUTED BY THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
JUST
AS OUR GREAT GOD HAS MILLIONS OF WILD NAMES, SOME KNOWN TO US HERE IN
THIS WAKING WORLD, AND ALL OF THEM MEAN THE ALMIGHTY GAMER-PROGRAMMER
OF THIS NIGHTMARE GAMOGRAM-SIMULATION OR THIS COSMOS. IF
YOU THINK I AM NUTS,
THEN
YOU THINK ONE OF THE GREATEST PROFESSORS AT NYU IS TOO;
AS
HE BELIEVES THIS AS MUCH AS I DO,
AND CAN GIVE YOU A FAR BETTER RATIONAL EXPLANATION TO ALL OF THIS;
PROFESSOR
MICHIO
KAKU.
GO AHEAD ANYONE, PROVE ME MOTHER FUCKING DICK LICKING WRONG!!!!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
{{{((*HH88HH88-HERBERT-HUNTINGTOM*))}}}
YOUR
SON, ARTHUR, MAY HAVE NEVER DARKENED YOUR DOORSTEP AGAIN, OH GREAT
FAMILY OF MINE, BUT HE SURE HAS MOTHER FUCKING DARKENED MINE, SARAH
TENNESSEE GREATWORDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Strange
shit is going on, as always, and the (behind the OZ CURTAIN loudness,
lays the reality of exploratronics. I knew the MILITUFORCE would not
like me printing about the property at Bancroft Neural Health now
closed down, and the Cooley Hall and next to it, the Lilly's
Lilliputian Livery, me maitees. Get too close to the cosmic guarded
secrets of MCGUIRE and TAWF, and kabling, yuuu deeeeeed!!!!!!!!!! I
want that 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
really great formula in this multiverse is kept on the QTDL by
Powerful Scott Ransom People, AKA (PSRP). MILITUFORCE=jerk
off PIGS!
So put
that
on your blackboard;
Mister David Leigh Smith, from back in 1970!
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. The
mighty airplane flying Everett Simpson of New Jersey and his great
Warwick Auto Sales, and shit that was all interconnected with these
three peeps, I have always known is not a nothing subject, and just
because I cannot put my fucking finger directly on something, I do
believe in LIFE-POINTS.
Places in all of our lives where major changes happen, and this not
being some random deal. I am not a degreed psychiatrist and cannot
give legal expert testimony about this, but I will say based on my
life and in my very humble fucking opinion; my life points are many
and major. When Jim Burr told me something was really there and
against me, totally invisible that he and his Christians call by the
name of Satan, totally was a game changer back in the very ending of
the year 1973. there are ten other life points, but this, no matter
how I may have incorrectly focused on this before; is
the original sin,
Irene Trump and Georgio Moroder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As for sampled
copies of shit after this, well, it is like that stupid fucking
asshole Viagra commercial on television. Get 5 people blowing their
fucking snotty nose loud into KFP and its mikes, and let me pitch it
to those stupid notes on the TV ad spot, and this is what it sounds
like, I am sure this is what was done in the commercial. Total
disease on steroids.
Not
even two years after I met these creepy weird people, it was spring
time somewhere in 1984, and Trump was going to open his casino called
the PLAZA, his very first one, in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Why I
could not tell you in a million years, but I wanted to go down on
opening day, and began to drive from my residence to the casino in
Atlantic City. First off, you have to bear in mind that he had not
yet started fucking with me day and night for years. Looking back, I
say to myself, gee, but back in time, I thought it would be cool to
go on opening day and play with fake chips. Today, I wouldn't walk
into one of his fucking establishments if you gave me a contract
notarize witnessed by the governor, that promised me an entire free
year at the whorehouse. Time and life are very funny, especially when
clueless to such things as SPACE-TIME-MIND, EXPLORATRONICS, and
MORIANITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
Mister
Redfield, you are getting onto the real deal, YO!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
MIKE MCNULTY-'71.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
If
anyone can find me PEE,
it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!
(IN
YOUR DREAMS, ASSHOLE). STILL, WHY THE DREAMS???
YOU
NEED TO INVENT THE 74-WORLD PENETRATER DEVICE, SO PLEASE TRY
AND REMEMBER ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!
JOURNAL
CASSETTE TAPE 25,740
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS
are people who are dreaming.
ME,
I AM FUCKING NIGHTMARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
my freaking goddess, was this an incredible 51 months, since my last
few days living back at
831 Thirteenth Street, in Hammonton, New Jersey,
at the FBI Agent Steve Caruso's rental home!!!!!! SHEEEEIT.
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12-CBS
local South Florida Television.
Note: The
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due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and
the map processing.
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General
Pam
Bondi
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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.
THE
VAMPIRE LINK LEFT ME, so fuck it, I'm not head banging any longer or
fist pounding either, Misses freaking Marola!!!!!! Boy do I wish I
could escape the 1969 Ziggy-Syndrome, Brad M. Lordess!!!
1)
“I TOLD YOU THE MAYOR WAS SHADY, JENNIFER”
2)
“I TOLD YOU THE MAYOR WAS SHADY, JENNIFER”
3)
“I TOLD YOU THE MAYOR WAS SHADY, JENNIFER”
Thank
the great state of Missouri
and their great Disbelievers Club, for all of this hell; my
friends!!!!
I
have been the victim of sexual abuse by women since I was fourteen
years old in the great summer of love, well, even before that, come
to think of it, at the Trinidad Motel on 10-SC Avenue in Atlantic
City, in 1967. My cousin Sandra Mason, daughter of my Aunt Geraldine
Snow who married my mother's brother, Stuart Huntington Mason; was
all part of shit that she is totally unaware of to this day, and is
better off not knowing. I was told by family, that her memories were
beginning to be effected by some illness, right around the time I was
asking lots of questions about Atlantic City and Sarah Krassle,
towards the end of this nightmare period of 1995-2003.There is no
time for any STROKE BREAK, WITH
AN ELECTRIC SCREW!!!!!!!
Good
folks, bare with me. This blog will tell and show things, that are
far from pleasant. Live with it. I sure have to, in the name of the
powerful ugly gods.
This
light-bulb-hack is a real pain in the thrill pack. I learn to live
with all of my hell, as was just spoken
about!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am in fucking agony, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually,
financially, ritualistically, and in any possible other way that is
imaginable. I could strain my ears for fifty years, and hear no
tears. I no that nobody anywhere could care mother fucking
less!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Back
in the middle twenty-ohs somewhere, I was on my phone to my social
worker who was actually classified as my Job Coach, back in New
Jersey. Under my mentally disabled type of Social Security benefits,
I am permitted to see without charge, shrinks, as well as people such
as this. In this case, this was a location in South Atlantic City
called the Providence House, filled with real fruit cake nut cases
cubed, that would make me look dam every day normal in comparison. My
particular case worker was a nice lady by the name of Jennifer
Washburn, without any Watson clues or washcloths involved in the mix,
praise Goddess!!!!!!!!!!
I
had told her all about several branches of this powerful deadly
WASHCLOTH FAMILY, most especially the Callio and the McGuire clans;
and also told the problems that I had with the Beach Control
Lifeguard force, or the ACBP. This is before they really got me
again, on the morning following my trip into queens, New York, to the
JFK Airport, to take Dawn King's husbands' brothers, so they could
fly back to Guatemala, where this branch of this mighty awesome
family, hailed from. I told how I almost was raped by a giant worker
at the airport who seemed to fall in love with me on sight for no
reason at all, as she was only half my freaking age, and could have
entered a national beauty competition, so why fall for shitty ugly
me? Anyway, the next day I needed to swim, and was messed with by the
ACBP, and my blogs all tell this story in full detail from late in
September in 2008, you simply need to archive them. My entire ugly
hellish nightmare story is all up here, ladies and gentlemen, I keep
no secrets around here, my life is an open book, for all of these
duosh bags to peep in and look; or so went my song lyrics on my music
project in 1986, containing several songs, and the title track was
called, ''REAL GOOD GIRL''. I need not paste it in, but may later on
someday, when and if I so desire to do, for reasons that pertain to
my persecution that will go on until the mother fucking day that I
die, lovely Amy, with or without pies, or your lovely powerful
steroidal muscles!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank
you for translating the great flower song, Joe Flash Berrios. But why
after that did you damage my automobile, and secretly bug me and
record what I said, as Nate the Resident Manager told me he saw you
do in late 1989 or early ninety thereabout, what gives here, my
bratha????????????? Well folks, the real question is not that, we all
should know what is happening here,not that most of you do who follow
my pitiful blogs. Well there is a place called THE
BRIGGBASE;
only it is not a place, but an Astral-Plane Condition-Interaction; or
for short, it is an APCI, pronouncing this as an 'APPKEY', may be
done if wish to do this, good folks!
This is no
ordinary 'place'. It is the scariest part of the Astral Plane except
for unfathomable hellish DOGTOWN. They are very similar to a modern
day military base that is far larger than the entire planet we all
exist on physically. They have several leaders who are in charge of
running what on Earth would appear to be ''daily operations''. One of
these entities, is the man who here in our waking world, is the
mighty multi-billionaire and very distant cousin through seven wild
marriages from 200 years ago, Mister Donald Trump. This is where this
prick tortured me horribly many tens of thousands of years ago and I
think even remembers it as I do, the prick; and forced me to bring
him here, into the body that he now is in total snatched control
over, and has been since early in the nineteen-eighties, using secret
technologies accidentally discovered by me using tape recorders and
other mysterious items all put together in ways this blog would never
feel comfortable imparting all of the details about.
Yes
folks, I said I would go back to the start of 1977.
So
indeed folks, just where have all of the
TRUTH-PATRIOTS
all gone to, and when will any of us ever learn
anything????????????????????????? Maybe after Peter, Paul, and Mary,
and Potpuff pet dragon; all blow away in the next wind storm, huh,
Florida-AG, Pam Bondi, mahm!
MARK WAYNE MOHR AND HIS BLOGS FROM JANUARY
2006-PRESENT DAYS:
Original five blogs:
On Blogger since January
2006
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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.
NEW BLOG FROM DECEMBER OF 2011, and new DATA:
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We
were but ten and now we're old, and lovely babbling brooks are grown
and on their own,Margie Leo, yeah sweetie, give me and my wild
imagination a total break, or cut us one, back in 1985 at Caldor-113,
WO! People must take me for the world's biggest fucking idiot, huh
Joan Lapplane? You were right all along, maybe, effortless withdraws
all notwithstanding, Electron-Lifeguard-1995, I just may well be the
BIGGEST FOOL IN THE WHOLE DAM POOL, all along, after-all, I let some
powerful fucking shit all get past me at this place, and at this time
in my life, huh Style Court Cousins?
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MY
COUSIN MIGHT SAY, IT'S BETTER THAN MOHR TRAINS. BUT I MIGHT SAY, WHY
TRY TO HURT THE FEELINGS OF A POOR SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD KID, YOU NASTY
FUCKING DIRTY OLD BASTARD FROM 1972, AND IF YOU GET ME ON MY MOTHWER
FUCKIGN FAMILY, THIS BLOG WILL GO REAL SOUTH REAL FAST, AND THAT'S A
REAL DAM FUCKING PROMISE, LADS AND LASSIES, YO!
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Personally,
I don't fucking give a shit about anything, not after what the hell
has been done to cunt huffing poor old me, YO!!!
Personally,
I don't fucking give a shit about anything, not after what the hell
has been done to cunt huffing poor old me, YO!!!
Personally,
I don't fucking give a shit about anything, not after what the hell
has been done to cunt huffing poor old me, YO!!!
Personally,
I don't fucking give a shit about anything, not after what the hell
has been done to cunt huffing poor old me, YO!!!
ALL
SAVANTS KNOW THIS ONE WELL; THE END!!!
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