I called the AT&T people today to complain about yesterday's problem with their backup battery for the telephone. Long-Story-Short (LSS), they told me to unplug it and let it beep for two hours and then just die off, and that if I want, I can dispose of it but to do it legally. They don't even take it back or use it anymore, as things changed since the time that I procured my account with them a few years ago.

YOU ARE NOW READING HALLS WALLS

CHAPTER #200

I do not have much longer to live, and I know this. I am anxiously looking forward to my death, just not my murder, Sheriff Ken Mascara, sir.

We are into the blistery third of the year here in Fort Pierce, June through September. The high can be under 90 some times, but the South Central and South Florida humidity makes it monster ass hellish, for those like me who are more in love with cooler temps. Now on with Callio's show and some blow without any reefers and tumbleweeds.

I asked who or what is the most behind my medical problems; since my family doctor, who I had as a boy, Frank Addiego of Westmont, New Jersey, USA; died in the year 2000. Also between 2000 and this very present time, including my horrible time at the Walgreen's pharmacy just the other day, who or what is most responsible for all of this nightmare fuckiGN hell?

I was given the answer of PCN-624. For reasons anyone following me for a decade almost now can see quite Nash-clearly, without any dam Clariton rip-offs or 1-2-3 caller-lovers; the four items that are in my match-book for this number stand out like sore Sarah Callio fucking lighthouse teeth!!!

TWO EMPTY LETTERS, MOCKINGBIRD LANE, TELEPHONE NUMBER, LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS DREAM.

I also asked me' ol' GAGA kitty cat, some other whittle questions, and I got some real major fucking answers. I am not going to print up a lot of junk right now; just a brief and compressed report going as follows: Those who know how to work the GAGA-KITTY GAWNUM-SYSTEM, know how powerful this truly is. I honestly don't need to say another mother freaking word right now!

Any and every time that I am foolish enough to believe one miniscule and infinitesimal amount, that I can defeat or beat in any meaningful way, the Exploratronic Supermind society (ESS), this merely verifies that the joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR. The joke is on one big fat stupid mother fucking total asshole, and his name is MARK WAYNE MOHR.

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 200

THE WEATHER BUG

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Well, the only thing that I have to blame is the Exploratronic Supermind Society. But still great folks out here, isn't that enough? What do you gals think, Babs and Donna? Yeah Deer-Hunter Cifaloglio Anthony, I know Donna passed, you buttwipe. At least I am not in on conspiracies to leave shit around for security guards to intentionally not be able to miss seeing while on rounds. WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! My moves? You know it, Chuck 134 Norris, BUD!

The fate awaiting all flesh, is my only salvation.

BOY OH BOY OH BOY BRAD MESSENGER, I sure hope that your life turned out a lot better than mine did, old buddy! Like WOW.

Holy Moley Molly; don't scratch your dam wring-worm, YO. Things can only get better, to quote the lovely Egg Harbor Township Twinbay, only they never ever seem to and I've been here as Mark Wayne Mohr now for just about 121 semi-annums now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, and WOW-WOW-WO!

JUNE 16, 2015,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:45,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 87 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY-------(H-88/L-72).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 63%, FEELING LIKE 95.

WINDS ARE ESE AT 12, GUSTING TO 21.

You know kind sheriff sir, you are a really cool dude and I always enjoy seeing you on my local news. They keep you real busy. I always tell my enemies, “Don't come down to this part of the wooded-neck, and start trouble”. As you and your local area co-sheriffs know only too well, they don't listen to me. Oh well, Halloween and BOO to us all, huh my friend? Maybe Patty shoulda' let Merry out on Halloween back in 1974 instead of punishing her, but then, always wondered why certain places seem to be power-points, and even my bankruptcy attorney up in New Jersey seemed to know something. Well, I doubt I'll be around much more than a couple months, and it will be all over for me, my pal Sheriff Ken Mascara. How I remember Marc up at Harvest, saying he was one step ahead of you all the time. I told him, not forever my friend, and he laughed. I think he and BOO bothy ended up in your hospitality sweet up there on Rock Road. No one ever listens to me, Kenny, sir. Hey, I'm used to that, it's been 121 deci-annums of it now in my current-me-lifetime.

Ron, ADA, up in Jersey and back in the nineties, kind sir; you told me they would react when tested, and you seem to know these fart bags a lot better than I ever will. I did all the legwork you told me to do, and it led me to places that go a few light mind universes beyond fucking Carlisle, Pennsylvania, USA, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh the Astral Gods, let this poor little flower child of the sixties go and die already, while all sisters sing about it, even in very naughty houses. You be polite, Tommy Dizzy-Doe-Dee Roe/Reale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you kept my stuff ANN KING; you are sitting on a gold mine, that makes your great baseball card collection, pale by comparison. I'll bet you already have figured this out by now. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

The fucking fat man from China says, “me' Chinese cookie is almost as prophetic as me' I-Ching wands that I left back in Ann King's place; the rented home owned by FBI-AGENT, Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas”!!!!!!!!

But Patty's powerful FASCITAR tapes are a whole other ballgame, huh MERRY???????????? October 31 is a bad one for me too, in case you are interested.

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Am I ''ddddoin' it right'' Mr. Walmart???????

I will never forget the way Bruce Pennock, bob McDowell, Daniel Mackey, and Patricia Hollister; all seemed to be one huge combination of something that I was never able to quite put my finger on back in 1974. Still, this old audio-collector from East Bengal, is still here, and the great Copyright Office knows this, to this very day. Fuck me, world, I must be sacrificed for the sake of the great Jehovah-Scylla Goddess, SHE-IS!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE has this thing about sacrificial fucking lambs, and who am I to argue with my teen-queen?????????? After all this fence stuff, hay Bob-1400-OWL, when in Rome, we count in Roman, and do all things Roman. Like gee fucking willagars, YO!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for the information regarding the recent persecution of me, party who will remain nameless, for all of our goods. Yes there is a lot of flat land here in Florida as my wonderful old pal mister Paul would say it accurately. Still, Merry Halloween, and Christmas; JP Morgan, and other landlords of yesteryear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, we all have mothers, but is that always such a great thing, when it may cost us DAUGHTERS, living right under our noses. Talk about a mother fuckiGN book that would dwarf Mister Patterson's entire combined collection, squared!!!!!!!!!!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.

Good night, Savant Doogie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 200

Local Weather Cameras

Fort Pierce, FL 34950

The fucking fat man from China says, “me' Chinese cookie is almost as prophetic as me' I-Ching wands that I left back in Ann King's place; the rented home owned by FBI-AGENT, Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas”!!!!!!!!

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