HALLS
WALLS
CHAPTER
217
Not
a lot of things make sense in this world, not for me, and not even
for any of you. You can believe me or doubt me, but I know the power
of this truth. I also know that things began about 100 years ago and
have been on a parabolic curve of nuttiness ever since, in so far as
ridiculous crap happening that is totally absurd,twisted, screwed up,
and plain out nuts, cubed-Cuban!!!!!!! And I am one of the biggest
reasons for a lot of it, only I had no idea at the time, quite a
while back, that this was all going on. Much in the same way in 1985,
when I built a larger scale Magnesonic Machine, and played with it as
a game, and it wasn't a game, only I didn't yet know that. Now of
course, I mother fucking do, and that's just reality son!
Gee
Wiligars people, if you think I am being fooled for a minute about
anything, you really do need to stop underestimating my mother
fucking ass. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
MAN
IS MY GOD DAM MOTHER 'FUCKIGN' LIFE ONE HUGE ETERNAL HELL-FIRE, AT
LIGHT SPEED CUNT CHEWING CUBED; MY
BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll
never ever forget life saving PITSY-1994!!!!
Holy
pisswater, when I did things at teen years and twenties years, I was
clueless that it could actually project up into future times and
alter an entire planetary society, BUTTTTTTTTTTTT, those following me
around all that time, the ESS/EW, ''whatever''; they totally got it,
and they totally knew!!!!!!
Oh
you want me to print some exact details, do you? Well, I will, when I
am good and ready. WOW THAT!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
I spoke too fucking cunt lapping soon. Somehow that horrible mother
fuckiGN rotten whore Jane, managed to fuck with my head. No people,
it wasn't Jane. Jane was just used by ESS, and many others are used
as well, continuously. Right now, this is not a steady number. It is
growing all the time. JEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE FONTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
That
old fucking cunt 2008 hack from Jenny's Trailer Park, got me
earlier today big ass fucking cunt time, YO. Suddenly
the mouse jumps, and then after that, the
print seems to be running in reverse. You
can try everything, but nothing repairs the fuckiGN shit. You
can switch all four possible margin lines, you can hit the text body
clear system and re-do, and even try exiting and booting the entire
computer off and coming back again. Notice as I said, Sheriff sir;
this is also when the mother fucking blog got hacked, as
it was right after that that I posted up the Merry Hollister
non-Christmas look-alike little pouting angel photo.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, and WOW WOW
WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dave
used to call this May death persecution, “CUP SHIT”. We
were out in New Jersey, in some park, walking around, and getting
major dive bombed by small aircraft, and he said; “Mark, this is
all cup shit”, and he was referring to the Lord Stanley Cup, and
the Philly-57-Flyers don't bite my neck off with one letter off on
the keyboard HOCKEY! All the way back in
1986, this horse fucking shit started, and if these people were mere
flesh and blood humans, this could not possibly be fucking cunt
happening now for almost three solid decades, day in and day out,
year after year after bloody rotten mother fucking asshole year, YO
YO YO YO!!! You can take this silliness or anything else my blogs
talk about over the past solid fucking decade, and no one on this
planet can begin to compare their stories to any of it. Why? Because
my shit is real and not made up, nor is it the product of a deranged
mental illness, no matter how many people from the Williamstown
Police Station up in Jersey, to the four corners of the world, wish
to believe it to be so, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
page does not have that hack on it that many do if you try cut and
paste in for a blog, and it really fucks shit all up and freezes you,
or at least it does it to me.
I
am sorry that I am too slow for your great wonderful mind and plans
Jehovah, my one true endless love forever and forever. Your poor avid
tried so hard after he remembered it all in 1996, after the dam
hypnotherapy. You are one awesome simulation gamer, and I'll give you
that. But why do you hate me when I love you
with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, WHY????
To
quote Terry Jackson 41 years ago, “Good-bye Mashell it's hard to
die, when all the birds are singing in the sky”. Only I can't wait
to leave this heavy old ugly body and be the energetic spiritual
equivalent, or really, realize it and awake from hyperspace illusion.
But even that is wrong, as I am all over hyperspace, as are you, in
the fourth and fifth dimension. We never shed off that reality, and
we always just exist in the void with an ASTRAL dream down onto the
plane of the great Catholic Purgatory. But my Mark Wayne Mohr dream
has, as do all of yours out here, even if you don't realize or
believe it; numerous entities on the Astral Realm. I have discussed
on my nearly decade long now blogging project, two in particular,
Rictofarious and Zeranniss. As Rictofarious, I cannot legally enter
into the great capitol city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. There are no gates
on those huge Astral linelanes that resemble future looking super
highways of 40 lanes in width. Saint Peter is not trolling or manning
one of these with his helpers at eleven others, IPYT. You can cross
over, lovely Party-5 Sarah later ghost communicator, but if you do
and get caught without a city pass and a city-name, registered in the
great city-hall of a sort; you, as Tim Devendorf the great dreamer,
would put it so dam eloquently, at the beginning of this second
decade of this century; “ARE IN BIG TROUBLE”.
Unlike human waking world 'BASEBALL' and its famous
electrical-threes; you get three strikes
without BEING OUT; or maybe said more
terrifyingly accurate folks, before you are SENT,
WITHOUT ANY 200 DOLLARS I ASSURE YOU, STRAIGHT AND DIRECTLY TO
DOGTOWN, across the great TECK BAY on the other side of the
capitol city of the capitol province of the Astral-Plane, the Bardo,
the spirit world or land of the dead, many many expressions all say
about the same dam thing.
JUNE
28, 2015,
EARLY
SUNDAY MORNING AT 1:02,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 80 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
YESTERDAY-------(H-92/L-73).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 74%, FEELING LIKE 84.
WINDS
ARE BLOWING SSW AT 7, GUSTING TO 21.
BBBBBB
CARELFUL PATTY-PAULA!!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
People,
my life totally fucking S---U---C---K---S!!!
That
day you appeared outside McGuire's, on July 12, 1997, on 10-SC Avenue
in Atlantic City, NJ-USA;I should have fucking iced you
sweetie!!!!!!!!
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
Hay
I was just following Ziggy's advice from two weeks earlier, you know,
“Go home, go home”. Again with my daughter's great message that
always seems to endlessly apply to me.
You
know it is really funny. I come back from the dam Walmart with the
Kings, back in the autumn of OHM-9, Cuzz Donnie Boy, and she says to
my voicemail, “Hi Mark”. You know, as in someone would either say
hi, or WAVE!!!!!!
I
AM HER THAT BOY
from the great
TRINIDAD.
You all have a vested interest in keeping me alive, not
dead!!!!!!!!!!!! But you do what you must, and
do it quickly,
as our SAR (LORD) said 2000
years ago
almost to the day and year now, to the ESS indwelt, Judas Iscariot.
ESS
is behind it all folks.
I have told you this all along, and until I breathe in and out my
very last breath, the words TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS
as well as EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY,
will be on my lips.
I
don't need the great folks of Sesame Street to tell you all how much
I love that great number five. God Almighty's two faves are (7) and
(12). She rested on the seventh day after six days of programming
this wild gamogram-simulation, and went to HER upline world
equivalent of our downline Atlantic City, New Jersey, where she met
HER upline equivalent me, at her shop on the equivalent of our
downline Tennessee Avenue where both HER shop, HER lighter friends,
and the great TRINITY HOTEL is located. We say Trinidad, but if you
move south of the continental United States where you are no longer
in America, they say TRINIDAD when we northerners say TRINITY. It is
all in knowing the language and history of reality.
What
good is being able to prove a million things, right down to the
satisfaction of any court of law, if no one allows you to do that? I
can prove right now that no matter where I live, I cannot get normal
AM and FM analogue radio reception. I can prove that my computer is
doing not just strange things, but that it all has an agenda to mess
with my trying to tell my horrible plight. I can prove that I will
soon be dead and my murderers will get away with it. This list is
laundry length, I assure all of you, and I need not go into it all.
A
couple of blogs ago, I suddenly noticed a large cock roach just
staring at me, right to the left of me on the floor. What I did not
tell you is that a super giant six inch long cock roach was in my
kitchen staring at me, dead from a heart attack or old age, I
suppose. Then a large gecko was right near my bed. I live in mother
fucking hell,ladies and gentlemen, and Jehovah Stacey hates me. It is
so ashame that she has forgotten how much we love each other in
Saharan Dal Kanwal, endlessly!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW!!!!
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