But
what really is SPACE-TIME-MIND
(STM), many are trying to understand; while scoffing at me. They
scoffed at Al Einstein too, with his SPACE-TIME. And they still scoff
at the hard core Quantum Physicists, with their quote; “until
the universe is observed, it is not real”.
Both of these things are 100% correct, but only MORIANITY ties the
two things perfectly together, sorry if that sounds all braggadocio
cubed, as it is just the dam truth. Also, FCC BOB MCDOWELL, sir and
old pal; I
AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT
HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER
BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER
FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING
MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT
HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER
BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER
FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING
MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT
HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER
BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MAJOR MOTHER
FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GETTING
MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER BLACK HAT HACKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
TOOK AN ALL DAY MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, AND TWO BACK TO BACK DAYS
OF IT. MY DIRT BAG UPSTAIRS FUCKING NABES KEPT MAKING SOME UNGODLY
MOTHER FUCKING LOUD HORRENDOUS SOUND, WHILE I TRIED TO SPEAK TO MY
PAL MIKEY ON THE PHONE, THIS AFTERNOON, FROM DOWN IN FORT
LAUDERDALE!!!!!!!!!!! ALL DAY, I TOOK LOUD NOISE ATTACKS. THE FIRE
ALARMS WERE GOING OFF ALL FUCKING DAY, AND IT WAS JUST ONE FUCKING
THING AFTER ANOTHER, WITH NOISE, HERE IN THIS GARBAGE MOTHER FUCKING
ASS PUBLIC HOUSING BUILDING, YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FCC;
THERE IS A HUGE MOTHER FUCKING HACK IN THIS COMPUTER RIGHT NOW; YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO, BOB MCDOWELL; MY OLD PAL FROM THE COOLEY FUCKING
WORMHOLE HALL, BACK IN 1972!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please
don't sweat it Merry Hollister. Think how I got treated for daring to
say that these things were real, to the mighty Donna Patterson in the
early nineties. Then about half a decade later, the FAWCES singled us
out to get into an automobile accident while on my way over the great
Billy Harner's Barber Shop, on Haddon Avenue of Westmont, New Jersey,
less than a mile from my old high school in the sixties; Haddon
Township High School (HTHS). She let me have it, yet I know big
Patty's secret, and she gave herself away by lifting that 500 pound
couch like it was a piece of mother fuckiGN cotton candy. Tell all
Lenny's hey, for me, when STM or 'whatever' does its thing!!
BUTTTTTTTT;
the light at the end of the dam ass tunnel, is a lot more than three
intersecting jet vapor trails, that are all criss- crossing, back in
December of 1969, or even just a lot of red XXXXXXXXX's
YO!!!!!!!!!
JUNE
JACOBSON 17, 2015,
WEDNESDAY
NIGHT AT 9:27,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 82 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
SO FAR-------(H-90/L-71).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 79%, FEELING LIKE 89.
WIND
IS ESE AT 10, WITH A GUSTING TO 18.
Sarah
herself came to me in her wild sports car, while I was in an out of
body experience the day after 2006 Christmas at just past five in the
morning, at that Cifaloglio place, but shit doesn't stop there. Where
did I have interactions of hyperspace, with Darius from the Harvest?
You got it folks. Good old Cifaloglio. We were standing where they
wanted the guard to park and sit in his car. He suddenly grabbed me
and lifted me up, as Darius is almost seven feet tall and built
muscularly. He then went onto say to me, “You never liked me”. I
was flabbergasted, and didn't know what to say back, in that 'wild
dream' from 2011.Goddess save all the lighthouse locks!
WeatherBug Severe Weather Alerts
PHOTOS
ARE COURTESY OF TWB.
A
while back, I was minding my own business and an evil man walked into
a guard house, by the name of Jimmy Stone, and he fired me. I had
done nothing to this bastard, and he just fired me. It was straight
out of Mickey Walker at Mars of 1977, only this was on the first day
of a whole other month, not July of 1977, but September of 2004.
This
was not some random event. All things all connect up. Most people do
not have a clue because they never stop and look back and see a
bigger picture of shit in hindsight. It is there in all of our faces.
Any of us can see this truth as plain as the nose on our faces. Yes,
27 years and two months after the nightmare of Mickey firing me at
Mars, came Jimmy firing me 'for real' here in this universe while
'awake'. 326 months from that horrible 'nightmare-dream' in 1977, or
really maybe about closer to 330 months, as the dream was sort of
like a premonition about the coming July first, a few months yet to
come. All of this fits into huge shit that time doesn't allow me
getting big time into right now.
Firing
me is part of all of this, and this story involves a double murder
and many other things, but again, I cannot begin to think about
getting into it all right now. So I will talk in a quick 'book
report' type of way and just relay a few facts for now that can all
be tied together much better, later on. Jimmy had to fire me from
this job. Jennifer Washburn had to get me into another job about 28
weeks later. This would be the Cifaloglio place. This all had to
happen. Not in all universes, but in the one where I type out this
blog right now. But there was a character along with some people in
his circle, who were all from the former job up in Florence Township,
that I can prove a connection to with some folks at this new job. No
one who doesn't live in New Jersey can relate, but folks, this is a
densely populated state by anyone's terms and definitions. The odds,
of so many people in my life, all seemingly connected, no matter how
many miles of separation exist in-between these various spots; are
astronomical to say the very dam least. One day in 2007, and around
the time that I sent the music project to the © Office, on Halloween
day of that year, called, “Same Title”; and actually was not
called that, but the © Office named it that for complex reasons,
that again, time would never begin permitting me to get into the dam
ass specifics about with you; but around this date somewhere, was
what I called the Cifaloglio Magazine Incident or the CMI for short.
Someone at this work site, knew that I, the weekend guard, would pass
through an area on clock rounds, and see it opened up to a particular
page, unless I was blind as a bat. I sat down and looked at it after
hitting my key, and it contained some powerful stuff, that at the
time, made some but little sense. Most of it was about Donna Summer
the late disco artist, and some of it was about MC, not MCI. But all
of this, and a big truck load of Baskin Robins Ice Cream; would not
come close to revealing all of the powerful cosmic nuances involved
in all of this. Approximately two years later, the same person that
arranged for my finding this magazine that weekend night while on my
guard duty; learned through the work site grapevine, how I had come
into the garage and got talking to a dude named Bill along with a
couple of his coworkers, and was telling how I was getting fed up
with a truck driver who was always screwing with me, and I showed
them what I might have to do to this person should the harassment not
be stopped, and I leaped into the air like in a Chuck Norris movie,
and gave a double kick to the side, like that dumb new dog flea
commercial where the dog kicks the flea from mid air. But this led to
the making of a whole other TV commercial, one for the great American
Telephone and Telegraph Corporation, or AT&T. Shortly after I
started at this place, a brand new run was started, and Atlantic City
had been added to the route of various trucks that went places to
perform services. The first man hired to do this run, the deer
hunter, Anthony, was friends with many of my Atlantic City enemies in
the local political system, and also friends of the owner of the
place, and was related by marriage I am pretty sure. This family has
a lot of roots up near my wonderful Aunt Ruth and Uncle Heinz lived,
the great Woodie Guthrie Island of New York. After I copyrighted my
music project that I did there one night, called, “Karaoke
Lunch-break at the Sorian 18 Guardhouse”, that the Copyright Office
removed the number-18 from the title for powerful reasons; again
folks no time to get into all of this right now; but this is when the
great Delmo Cifaloglio removed the guardhouse, and made the guards
work outside in our vehicles again, the way it was at the start of
the job, only now, the place being much busier, this was illegally
precarious and deadly ass fuckiGN dangerous. Huge trucks rolled
around me like I was dog-shit, and it was a very scary place to
fucking work. Right before it was removed, I was balled out by the
boss while his daughter who was in the car and loved to always stare
at me, was doing that again, and it was very embarrassing to say the
fucking least. Also, I didn't deserve the man's grief. My reports
were detailed unlike Roy Carl Weiler Senior, the other rotation
security guard, the two of us would relieve each other all weekend
long. All that man ever wrote was the hour and ''all secure''. Let me
tell you folks, nothing is ALL SECURE. Any guard worth his or her
salt knows that. My reports were detailed and accurate and I was all
over that place looking for shit that was out of order. In guard
duty, it is always better to catch something early so as to avoid
much bigger grief that would result down the line should one not
choose to act in such a manner. Long Story Short, or LSS, I have any
reason to know even though I do not have court acceptable evidence,
that Deer-Hunter-Anthony was the key enemy there, as ever since he
came and that Atlantic fuckiGN City run began, the job that was quite
nice before that, turned into nothing but shit, grief, and hell. He
was behind many spurious and bad shit that I had to deal with and
contend with for nearly a half decade that I had to interact with
him. But the real story about Cifaloglio is that if you crashed into
a tiny quick cat nap, or if I did and I did and will admit to it,
boom, the uninduced astral projections were major, and on top of
that, even just regular quick hyperspace experiences were major as
all shit as well. I saw a lot of shit that all came to pass, here in
waking life, just from a quick crash here and there, and 'dreaming'
something that came to pass in future times ahead of me, here in
'waking life'.
Now
some of you know that when I talk about the old job before
Cifaloglio, the dude who was very mysterious and claimed to be an
Olympian God, named Psyche Myrathus from the Great Ring River to the
Province one away from Province Olympia; and two friends of his, all
knew some friends of this driver-Anthony from the new job. But to
keep this all going, I had the WAYV crew, and of course their queen,
the great PAULA Somnambulist KING. I totally believe that Paula is
one and the same person that worked with my mom, because they share
some wild things in personal life besides being dead ringers to each
other physically. The odds that I am wrong on this huge covered up
secret are millions to one, minimum. Fascination with hidden things
is just a part of their similarities, believe me folks. I am not
buying into about fifteen other things here, from her choice of male
suitors and reasons for those wild decisions, to Aunt Shark Ruth
Nightmares of Gloucester, to punishments, to ages all being exact,
and as I said peeps, I could go on making this list, checking it ten
times, and wouldn't even need her wild spurious friend, Santa, to be
involved in this mix.
Sarah
herself came to me in her wild sports car, while I was in an out of
body experience the day after 2006 Christmas at just past five in the
morning, at that Cifaloglio place, but shit doesn't stop there. Where
did I have interactions of hyperspace, with Darius from the Harvest?
You got it folks. Good old Cifaloglio. We were standing where they
wanted the guard to park and sit in his car. He suddenly grabbed me
and lifted me up, as Darius is almost seven feet tall and built
muscularly. He then went onto say to me, “You never liked me”. I
was flabbergasted, and didn't know what to say back, in that 'wild
dream' from 2011. It happened either shortly before or shortly after
he came over here to do that music stuff to my computer, I think it
was before but don't want to swear to it. Normally my memories are
clear as a dam bell. Here I go again, is someone doing a 1983-1984
hyperspace equation deal with me, again, YO?
Go
ahead and tell me that my life isn't so wild, that it literally makes
the dam ass African jungles appear tame in comparison! Just go the
hell ahead, kind ladies and gents!
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
AM GETTING REAL SICK AND TIRED OF HAVING MY MOTHER FUCKING ENTIRE
LIFE VICIOUSLY FUCKING CUNT VIOLATED!!!!
I
AM GETTING REAL SICK AND TIRED OF HAVING MY MOTHER FUCKING ENTIRE
LIFE VICIOUSLY FUCKING CUNT VIOLATED!!!!
I
AM GETTING REAL SICK AND TIRED OF HAVING MY MOTHER FUCKING ENTIRE
LIFE VICIOUSLY FUCKING CUNT VIOLATED!!!!
I
AM GETTING REAL SICK AND TIRED OF HAVING MY MOTHER FUCKING ENTIRE
LIFE VICIOUSLY FUCKING CUNT VIOLATED!!!!
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
Audience
h
©
2006-2015
Bob
McDowell
would say it so wonderfully and accurately, “Vely
vely intelesting”.
I cannot tell you in detail, but you know what; I know that a few out
here, just 'know'!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then again, one dictating writer to
another, phase-3 or phase-4; Doctor Steckle on the super great
'Flatliners' movie; ''Maybe I'm just fucked in the head''. Hay Joanna
from 1979, like WOW! Shit for crissake, What
problems can an
angry mother cause someone down the road, if he says or does things
that upset her??????????????????? Gee, let's not go here Sally Starr.
Yes I typed in another MIND-HACK PBHE SCREW UP, SAYING IN 1988, I
MEANT QUITE OBVIOUSLY THE YEAR 1998, WHEN THE GREAT SS HELPED ME OUT
IN ATLANTIC CITY AFTER MY BEACH THEFT. No typos, no PBHE (prior blog
hacks or errors) no how, no nothing, no witches, no OZ, no
confusions, no hyperspace equations, just the fucking goddess dam
facts, ma'am, huh Mister Friday, YO?????? Holy shitwater, YO!!!
Am
I right or wrong, SIR BRUCE? So why did both Bruce and I end up
seemingly watched by the powers behind the 'EW' all along ever since
we both left the (GAP) Cooley-Hall??? (Entertainment World) Hay
folks, I can easily sit here with ideas and speculations and theories
and all this lovely nice stinking crap soup. Until I have an answer
that would be able to stand up to courtroom scrutiny, keeping my big
fat ass shut might just be the fucking proper way for me to go here,
YO YO YO YO BRO!!!!!!!!
Try
getting out of this one, Dawn-Marie King, oh great
Highness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
concludes the reading of
HALLS
WALLS, CHAPTER---201
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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