Sunday, July 5, 2015

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 231


HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 231

(BOM) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

Mark Wayne Mohr






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being one of perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going back far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal with an extremely unpleasant situation.
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When you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll drown?


Well, I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am the one in 1984 from Highland Avenue.











































































































Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida, sir; I am not going to last much longer, and need to tell you all the things and all the facts that I am able to tell you, in case they kill me in my god dam sleep tonight, as I was told will happen, right before getting up, and hearing the voice of SARAH. I may not have heard this voice live in this world here, but as Bob McDowell knows only too well, Sheriff sir, from 1972, I did take that portable recorder with me everywhere I went, and the 1988-1989 Copyright Office Examiners have figured all that out by now, I'm dam ass sure, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know her voice, as do a billion others, only I know it well from 43 years ago at age two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Atlantic city has been the origins and conceptions of many many things, and the world just won't be ready to know just all of them, until after my human flesh has been totally sacrificed, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



I am not willing to tell it all right now, as I would be killed before you or your people could ever reach my apartment sir. They have eyes o me and this keyboard, and my face and hands at every microsecond, Sheriff sir. Please try and protect me tomorrow during my road trip over to the Walmart Store for a new power back up brick, and a new video machine. When I said the Milituforce froze up the CD a week or so back; I meant to say the DVD. I can listen to CD on that machine, but was watching a DVD when that occurred, kind sir. The repair shop tried to rob me too, the second shop, sir. They never did a thing and tried to soak me out of 35 clams. They can keep my two machines for junk parts as far as I care, Sheriff sir. All the repair shops in your county are totally crooked, at least with me, sir,. And I'll swear to that any time you wish, in open mother fuckiGN court, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one tries harder than me to act properly and do the right thing, and gets totally fucking screwed for it, than I do, kind Sheriff sir!



I was supposed to die the first five days in July, and technically sir, they are not over for another nearly five hours. Nineteen years have come and gone, and this was not written in 2015. Many believe in the 'Ghost-Whisperer STEP-IN Theory', as far as my situation; but they have it all fuckiGN wrong, Sheriff sir.



As for Regis Philbin's nightmare pals over at the Atlantic City radio station; he knows just how mother fuckiGN totally evil all those people are, but he cannot say boo, and he knows it, Sheriff. Just like the Donald's hands are likewise tied. He too knows this entire mess is all real. He also knows that if his adversaries ever come to me closer to election time, in the 'D'-Party, I will have no choice but to tell everything, and to prove some stuff, and I have sources still on this side of Jenny Love Hewitt who WILL come forward, if served officially with court subs, sir!!!!!!!! There is a man in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, that will go to bat for me, but he needs protection, Sheriff Mascara sir!!!!!!! I think we both know what's getting said here, kind sir.



Dave Roth said it all, back in the late nineteen eighties, Sheriff KJM sir; YO. He used to say to me, “Mark, if our enemies can nail us totally, on just one of the two main parameters of human life; they've got us!!!! So imagine when they've got us nailed on both”!!!!!!!!!!!!! He was referring to our HL-situation (Home-Life), and AW-situation (At-Work). It really is a very simple and powerful truth, kind Sheriff, sir, and I'll never ever ever never forget those times where he spoke that to me!!!!


Dawn and her family fucked me so bad that words never will exist to tell a fraction of the story, Sheriff, sir. BUTTTTTTTTTTT, kind sir; IPY this much. This was all planned on a higher reality and higher realm, many many many many MILLIONS OF YEARS BEFORE YOU OR I WERE EVER BORN, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I totally know this to be a fact, and would say it to you if we were in a room with the following ten other people, sir; the nine wise souls on the Supreme Court, and the Lord Jesus Christ Almighty Goddess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gender is pure illusion in the energy realm, and energy is matter or us as atoms, when accelerated to the speed of light times the speed of light. Yes, Sheriff, hopefully you and PO John Judy might have a nice little talk sometime, about my days while kidnapped under STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, at FBI AGENT'S HOME, Steve Caruso, of Austin Texas, located in Hammonton, New Jersey, at 831 Thirteenth Street, kind Sheriff KJM, sir!!!!!!!!!!! But I know that I am telling the absolute truth, and I know that GODDESS JEHOVAH NICI (Stacey) knows it as well. At least I do go to sleep with a clean freaking conscience, Sheriff sir!!!!

So Keep on smiling there, giggle-girl!











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WELL SARGENT CARTER, UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS, SIR; IF YOU'LL PERMIT ME TO QUOTE GOMER PYLE, PRIVATE FIRST CLASS, “MY MY MY”.

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    My Photo


Just as with 'Poison Garbage Xerelto ''NOT TODAY'' cute little Merry!!!!! Not today.




A white flower for Donna's white-boy. Jesus Christ; I seemed to invent the entire new age culture, by pure frikkin' accident. So who's got who; Douglas Cress, Lillian Erbey, and Frank Callio-A&R? Maybe Peter Vitteritti knows the dam answer! And no matter what gives with all of that, there is one bigger truth that's continuously surrounding all of that and a lot more. It ain't complicated rocket science, speaking of which, remember, it took the original NASA years to get it right, so let us give SPACEX a chance for crissake. But if real truth is ever sought by anyone of you out here, here it is. SATAN IS DOING ALL OF THIS TO ME. SATAN OWNS, AND RULES, AND RUNS, THE FUCKING EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY. SATAN has no pitchfork, no horns; and I promise you he is not a hater of the great SSJK, nor does he battle for your isness of Lawtronic being, the way misinterpreted scriptures and religious teachings of old, all insist upon. As with anything that is a big topic, there's a lot more to it, and things are never the way the mass populations believe. Betting against the masses, in the world of high finance and business; is called the ''SMART-MONEY''.



HAY, WHAT CAN I SAY JAY-JAY EVANS? UGLY DOG CONTESTS, HOW ABOUT UGLY BABY CONTESTS? HOW ABOUT IF WE ALL JUST DRINK SOME DOCTORED COOL AID, OVER IN AFRICA, AND THEN TAKE NICE LONG NAPS?


















































Hay Sarah Callio and Paula King, and all of you rotten TAWFERS; YO. Here are some instructions for you.


1) Place heavy sandbag belt around you.
2) Be sure the weight is at least 80 pounds.
3) Find this location below.
4) Go there, walk down the stairs, and keep right on going! Forget sweeping the beach, Senator.




































































Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King
Sarah Callio and Paula King



THESE TWO HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE FUCKING WITCHES ARE IN MY APARTMENT RIGHT NOW. THEY HAVE THEIR ASTRAL ENERGY IN HERE, SARAH-PARTY5!!!!!!!!













{{{((*HALLS----------WALLS*))}}}

CHAPTER #231

set of hand drawn smiles on...

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!










































































































































Oh Mister Peter Vitteritti and Mizz Jennifer Washburn; I have a nice pwetty fwower for that A&R lady in NYC, YO.






I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


I WOULD MUCH RATHER HAVE PAULA AND DAWN STRAPPED INSIDE AN EM FIELD, THAT KEEPS THEM TRAPPED; THAN JUST BIG DAWN, YO!!!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!



And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!


And of course, I want SARAH, and her nasty ass fucking broom, in that field, all nice and trapped too; beach sweeper, pier barnacle cleaner, Fire Dog caller; Mayor Levy, YO!!!!!!!!





WHAT NEXT, COLD CRUEL MOTHER MILF HUFFING PUFFING DIVING WORLD????????????????????


When I went out to my eye doctor appointment, I was instantly fucking set upon and assaulted by the MILITUFORCE. Major chemtrail attacks were all over me, and then slowly backed off. This fucking shit is starting to go back on a roll, after a lull in this action recently, artist Former-Prince!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Speaking of that, the reason I could not get any views back in the days when I posted songs up to YOUTUBE, is as obvious as a Chevy Chase Law and Order Airian brother. A couple nights back, I saw something on television, and it seems YOUTUBE is owned by the EW, 100% and they have reporters and Youtube-Cams and it is just like the major three American garbage networks, them and Google, and all these fucking crooks that will endlessly stifle my life story, my artwork, and all things about me that would alter the course of humanity forever on this planet, if allowed to ever come out.

Youtube is just the internet network or we might see it as the fourth American network. When I called Google on several occasions about trying to bring traffic to any of my stuff, blogs, Youtube posts, etcetera; they only screwed with me, and would not allow me to join this system, which is a blatant violation of my First Amendment Rights under the U.S. Constitution, to free fucking cunt speech.


No blog has as few followers as mine, that show a moving global audience that is as widely scattered and changing, as mine. This proves to me that my audience is for the very most part, just the Exploratronic Supermind Society, (Milituforce Enemies). I have made a careful study of this and believe me, it proves the ESS is realm and undeniable.


My eye doctor cannot send me to the surgeon for cat-removal until they grow bigger still, leaving me with compromised fucking vision. My blogs will be short and sweet. Not that any of that matters, until I can find a way to steer traffic that is real, in my direction.


So why has my health failed me recently. Well, a child can see it if they should be truly looking for it. My dirt bag family is plotting major shit against me. As for the crap with Cuzz-Donnie, let us be realistic. He is very serious about his most recent endeavors. He will have powerful enemies that will try the original shit that politicians all throw at each other. When his rivals then need to pour on even larger shit, they could theoretically come knocking on my door, as what would they have to lose asking me for my story and unpleasant dealings with the man. So it is a wise idea for him to get with his pals, and have me slowly covertly murdered. And this is exactly what is happening to me; President Obama, sir!!!











































































Now the very last thing that I want to do, is to get 'Listener Theresa' of WFMU internet radio, all up set or excited; but here goes any how;



Mark_from_njMark_from_njMark_from_nj
Mark_from_njMark_from_njMark_from_nj
Mark_from_njMark_from_njMark_from_nj






My 1985 doctor M. Miller Bittle, ''My Philadelphia Father'' book.


    1. C Miller Biddle MD.


    1. Internist
    2. Address: 701 E Main St, Moorestown, NJ 08057



GONE, unable to locate.





NO ONE CAN FIGHT THESE POWERFUL ATLANTIC CITY WITCHES, AND I SUPPOSE I KNEW ALL THIS, BACK WHEN MY MOM'S COWORKER PATTY, DECIDED TO PUT ME THROUGH THE NEXT 50 MEGAYEARS OF MAYAN HELL, THAT WAS FAR FROM MERRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OR MAYBE I SHOULD SAY, CLOSE TO; HUH SCREAMING SHARKS RUTH GOZZWALD, YO???????????




































































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I have lots of fucking shit to cry about,but then, so do a lot of other people, so boo-hoo-hoo for fucking poor old me. Image result for images free funny faces




If there ever was a really super abridged and compressed anything on these decade long blogs; it will be this following lead in foundational information. The great Carlos Castaneda, one of the great New Age authors of many fantastic books; discussed how people know each other from other realms and agree to all meet here in this one to accomplish tasks, and all the while, not ever remember the realer shit behind the so-called screen. The Briggbase is what he was referring to, without being aware of it, in my opinion. He may very well be aware of it and was just smart enough, unlike me, to keep his mouth shut.



Now I am in no way implying that all of the people involved in my life in one way or the other, are in their truer essence, Briggbase residents. But a large majority of them are, and this has to be the truth, as otherwise, those anti-pollution television commercials that aired late in the sixties, with my voice on the one where the pigs were on the beach, just never could have happened. But a lot more than even this is involved in my life. Not only are a slew of name recognized people, all a part of different places throughout my recent as well as more distant past; but my knowledge and memory of each one, was somehow effected, so as to cause me not to be aware of anything until well after I no longer was involved with them. I am not saying that anything has to be behind this shit, but merely am stating that some force somewhere, caused me to interact with a dozen people who all at future times, became world wide name recognized, and also, a mind-block seemed to stop me from being aware of these people, all of them, not just one or two or three. This may sound more far out or just way more stupid to a lot of you reading this, but I am going to tell you that I believe this entire thing is some wild game, played by some sicko juvy, from a higher reality. I remember saying and telling that very thing to a high school classmate of mine who came to Haddonwood one day in 1995, as well as my two friends there, Joe and Andy, and also to several others, both there and at other places that were a part of my life in those times. Each time I would dare to say this aloud, the immediate counterattack that was launched against me, was beyond off the scale; if I can quote the great late President Ronald Reagan.


We can always do a James Rockford, and get back to this powerful topic. Right now, I want to say THANK YOU LOVELY WONDERFUL AWESOME DIANA ARTEEMIS, for coming over to visit with me this afternoon. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU SO MUCH, OH PRECIOUS GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



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BLOG BIO, ON JUNE 29, 2015, 11:22 P.M.


Now the problem with what I am going to say in a moment, is that without believing in this Castaneda Syndrome of Dreaming, to call the ESS, and give it more credibility, since this is a great world recognized author; none of this story called Morianity would have a snowballs chance in fucking hell of ever making a bit of logical rational sense. But applying my powerful story, along with, as well as into, Carlos Castaneda, and his great 'dream-books'; and finally, you will see some powerful shit is going on; and you won't be able to deny it! Not with real honest logic and reasoning. You literally would be forced to reach the conclusion, that Morianity is real. Just this man's great books are one thing. But take his books, and my claims about my life for nearly 61 years; and you will get a blast that is far beyond 1,000 atomic bombs. I promise!!!!!!!!!!!!! So as I said, I could print up a few hundred words or more on any topic that these blogs have taken you through for ten years now. Here is one selected purely at random, but as you read it; try reading it while remembering the Castaneda Syndrome. No one just falls into interactions with a dozen people that all go onto be world renown huge successful people, not unless they were say the Queen of England or some big billionaire. It merely goes against all odds, all possible statistical analysis, and on and on I could go. Let me instead, stop and just paste in this little story.



Yes, many folks have come to Fort Pierce, following me down here literally. Some my distant family, some part of the ESS naturally, and still others, whoever and whatever they REALLY are, some are the soldiers on my side of this army-fight, praise the GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, to get into to much when I am this weak, beginning the 28th mother fucking day of last August in 2013, as you all know, or should know unless someone is totally new to the blogs and Morianity and Mountainpen, as you all know my problem with MUSIC, only none of us really can know WHY this music problem exists, but a child on moron pills can see it plain and clear as days spent with Johnny Nash. In a super compressed nutshell my good folks, here is what I can, and thus, WILL say and tell right now before closing out this blog for this night. SSJKK wants me to know who she is, back as Sarah Nurockey in the sixties of Atlantic City, as well as early in the seventies in Coolie Hall of Haddonfield, New Jersey, as another Sarah, Mizz beyond super girl white hot Jacobson. Then there is now, which until the middle and late nineties, I was as clueless to this newest and latest incarnation on her part, as a new born baby would be to the great formula of E=MC SQ. BUT little by little; she did things, that made me know, that she indeed, is my SARAH KRASSLE; and she can just go on denying it all she wants to; because we both know it is true. When I went walking underneath Central Pier, I never hit my head on a low beam. Paula King, street name when my kid's mom was in that area and at that time and having marital woes and was philandering around without ever leaving her house many times, as a what else, T3E, still, one year after she had her way with me on the first Saturday in July's 1969 year, she popped up again, most likely exploratronically. She entered into my head and made me believe that I had hit a low cement beam underneath the pier. Then she told me that she did what she did a year ago from this early July morning ion 1970 and that I may want to know that I have a very lovely non Amanda Harris Jones daughter, State Police of New Jersey and government intimidations clubs of the north. When I was later on walking down Tennessee Avenue still dazed from it all, no copyright Office, the thrill of my life did not come along, only thoughts in my head that I have to be imagining this, as it is so fucking totally crazy. The only problem was that I was holding onto a newspaper that this lovely woman had given to me. It was the Wildwood Press, dated one of the first 6 days in July of 1970, please do not ask me which one, I merely have a powerful memory that it was somewhere between the first and the sixth day, and it could have been any one of these six. This paper was inside of a thin box. It had buttons to touch and was filled with bright blue and yellow prompts. I remember getting to Pacific Avenue and catching the Jitney-Bus south to Cornwall Avenue, and going home before going out and swimming again. I also remember having a towel with me, and wrapping this thing up inside of this large white towel, and before leaving the area of the Central Pier, I also took a short dip in the sea. When I had come back from my second swim, and walked back to child molester Thomas J. Reale's rental property where he had me staying, and abused me sexually, twice in there; first by hand, and second orally; I took a nap and got up and it was around 7 in the evening. Ziggy had just told me to get lost as many who know my ugly story of 1979, know all about this. He was my boy-hero, and I cried every day and night and could not figure out why he told me to ''Go home'' and would not speak to me any longer. Later of course, I learned, not from my mom going back and talking with him, as he never dared tell the total truth to the ugly monstrous things going on in Atlantic City, but I learned he wanted me home and out of there, not just to be with peeps my own age more, or because he was concerned about Reale the molester, not that these things were not more than sufficient. Ziggy and Trinidad Hotel Manager Soifer, and Restaurant Owner Pincus, all three right within a few years of all of this shit in 1970, died from a horrible form of what is known as Galloping Cancer, a type of cancer that is on steroids and runs much faster than ordinary cancers, taking a patient to the grave in record times. Ziggy supposedly died in 1973, and Pincus and Soifer, all went within a year one way or the other of Ziggy. These three dudes all knew what had happened to me with Tom Reale, and were now considered by Chicago Mob Boss Gallagher, to be extremely dangerous loose ends. They never died of fucking galloping cancer, all were murdered and died really horrific agonizing deaths. My old blogs from 2006-2009 speak about all this hellish nightmarish shit time and time again, it is all there to be archived by any one of you at any time. The ESS is powerful and something connected to all of it had to be covered up. One of these travelers had obviously somehow managed to bring back to 1970 physically, what now in 2014 and form the past few years, is called, a ''TABLET''. Only this tablet was very advanced, containing the PEEF, or the PEE FEATURE. I remember to this very minute in future time, folks, the word on the side of this thing that I used to just call the Wildwood Press paper placed inside of some weird thin box containment. By tapping certain keys, you became a part of this networking cloud system and actually were mentally transported into it where it was simulating reality as if you were there. I can only wonder if the logo PEEF meant anything to do with my genius computer younger daughter, lovely PEE. In 1970, she was not close to being born, this would be almost 27 years out in the future on March 29 of 1997.




Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, great people; I can prove an evil covery stealthy technology is used against a select few individuals such as me, but who will ever listen to me, YO? Applied Parallel Event or ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






















































































































































































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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!!!!!!!!!!!!!




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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!!!!!!!!!




JULY 5, 2015,TOM JITNEY REALE + 45 YEARS
SUNDAY NIGHT AT 8:14,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 84 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE SO FAR-------(H-87/L-73).
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 72%, FEELING LIKE 91.
WIND IS ESE AT 10, AND GUSTING TO 12.







HOLY BIBLE FLUSHING TOILET WATER SIPPERS DO THESE ATLANTIC CITY MOTHER FUCKERS OF YOURS, ANN KING; TOTALLY FUCKING SUCK A MILF RAG SLUT-HO BITCH'S JOY BOX, AT C-SQ!!!








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HALLS WALLS




CHAPTER 230


PLEASE HELP ME SHERIFF MASCARA, SIR. SARAH CALLIO MARTINO, IS ATTEMPTING TO MURDER ME. NOT ONLY IN MY ''SLEEP'', BUT FOR A WEEK NOW, IT IS CORRESPONDING TO WHAT YOU CALL, MY ''LIFE IN THE WAKING LIVING WORLD''. I DON'T KNOW IT ALL, AND NEVER CLAIMED TO SIR. BUT MY UNCLE JOHN, THE LATE; AND THAT POWERFUL SPEEDBOAT FROM THAT NIGHTMARE EARLIER THIS YEAR, ALONG WITH THE RECENT SPEEDING CAR RIDE I HAD TO ENDURE; IS PART OF SOME HUGE 'FUCKIGN' SHIT, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SOMEHOW, PCN 'NUMBER' 220 IS RAPPED UP IN ALL OF THIS TOO, AND YOU KNOW IT IS FUNNY SIR; AS LAST NIGHT, IN A POWERFUL NIGHTMARE, OUTSIDE WAYV-FM RADIO, ON THE ATLANTIC CITY BOARDWALK, UP IN JERSEY; SARAH CALLIO, PAULA KING, AND THE CHIEF OF THE ATLANTIC CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT; WHILE THEY WERE ARRESTING ME, FOR SOME TRUMPED UP FAKE CHARGE, IN THIS HORRENDOUS NIGHTMARE (HYPERSPACE-INTERACTION); SPOKE TO ME, SAYING THAT MY LOCAL SHERIFF, AND HIS PALS AT SOME OTHER STATION; KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IS GOING ON!!! FOR SOME WEIRD REASON SIR, I TAKE THIS VERY SERIOUSLY, ESPECIALLY IN LIEU OF THE ASSAULT ON ME SOMEWHERE AROUND THE HALF PAST NINE THIS MORNING TIME, WHERE MY MOTHER FUCKING BATTERY-BACK-UP COMPUTER BRICK,WENT OFF AGAIN, AND FOR NO REASON AT ALL, IS BLINKING RED, INSTEAD OF HOLDING A CONSTANT LIT UP GREEN LIGHT, AND MAKING THAT HORRIBLE HIGH FUCKING PITCHED NOISE. I HAVE TAKEN MY ENTIRE COMPUTER OFF LINE THERE, AND PLUGGED IT INTO A PLUG NEAR MY BED. I SAVE EVERY THREE SENTENCES, AND HAVE NO BACK UP AT ALL. THEY HAVE FUCKING RUINED ME, AND BROKEN EVERY FUCKING THING I HAVE, SHERIFF; AND I THINK YOU KNOW WHO IS LOCALLY, OR MAYBE NOT LOCALLY; BEHIND HELPING MY FAMILY TO TOTALLY WIPE OUT MY LIFE, AND DESTROY ME 100% COMPLETELY; KIND SIR. I REALLY TRUST DREAMS WHEN THEY ARE CLOSE HYPERSPACE LOCALES TO HERE, AND THEN A MAJOR ASSAULT ON ME HERE, DIRECTLY FUCKING FOLLOWS THAT. IT IS JUST WAY TO BIZARRE FOR ME NOT TO THINK ANY OTHER MOTHER FUCKING WAY, KIND SIR, SHF. KMS!!!!


ALSO BEAR IN MIND KIND SIR, PLEASE; THAT COMCAST CABLE SENT A BILL THIS BILLING PERIOD, AND TOLD ME THAT I OWE A MONSTER AMOUNT, AND SAID MY BANK CHARGED ME A BANKING FEE FOR A RETURNED CHECK FOR 109 DOLLARS. MY BANK SHOWED ME THAT THIS NEVER WEVER HAPPENED, KIND SHERIFF MASCARA, SIR, AND I HAVE ALL OF THE PAPERWORK. THEY SAID IT WAS RETURNED, AND MY BALANCE FOR MONTHS HAS NOT SUNK TO ANY LEVEL THAT LOW, WHERE A CHECK OF THAT SIZE COULD POSSIBLY BOUNCE, KIND SIR. I HAVE BANK PROOF THAT THEY CASHED THIS CHECK, MY OWN CHECK PHOTOCOPIED ON BOTH SIDES, AND THEIR ID NUMBERS PROVING THEY RECEIVED THE FUNDS; AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF NICE PAPERWORK PROOF, THAT WOULD GET JUDGE JUDY WET. SIR, I AM ANGRY, AND UPSET, AND SCARED; SO PLEASE TRY TO BEAR WITH MY SARCASM AND KRASS FLIPPANT HUMOR HERE FROM TIME TO TIME. THESE FUCKING MONSTERS IN MY FAMILY HAVE WIPED OUT MY LIFE SINCE 1965, WHEN THEY HAD ME SENT TO A PSYCH WARD, IN PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY; THAT CLOSED DOWN RIGHT AFTER I BEGAN BLOGGING, AND TELLING HOW I WAS ABUSED THERE TREMENDOUSLY, AS A TEN AND ELEVEN YEAR OLD INOCENT PATHETIC CHILD, KIND SIR.


THE NIGHTMARE WAS HORRIBLE; AND AN HOUR AFTER COMING BACK HERE, AND OUT OF IT; AND THIS IS THREE NIGHTMARE NIGHTS IN A MOTHER FUCKING ROW, UNLIKE ANYTHING IN DECADES NOW SIR; BUT WITHIN ONE HOURS TIME, BOOM; A MAJOR UTILITY ASSAULT ON ME, STRUCK HARD. I WAS JUST WATCHING MY TV, AND MINDING MY OWN BIZZ SIR, AND KAPOW. THE HIGH PITCHERD SQUEAL CAME, AND THE BATTERY BACK UP BRICK SUDDENLY HAD BEEN STRUCK AGAIN, OUT OF NOWHERE. I BELIEVE AT&T AND COMCAST CABLE, ARE IN A MOTHER FUCKING EVIL DEMONIC CUNT HUFFING COLLUSION WITH EACH OTHER, TO WIPE ME OUT; AND THAT SARAH CALLIO IS A PART OF IT; AND THAT BEHIND THESE MAGICAL INVISIBLE OZ-CURTAINS AS ALWAYS; LIES THE 'ESS' OR (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY).


Now for the nightmare: I don't dare blog it in detail. I was told too many wild things. I may get braver, Sheriff sir; if these fucking pigs don't break off this horrible monster ass assault on me. Notice how SUNDAY'S are normally a day where the evil empire strikes me hard, and we all know mother fuckiGN why, unless we are 100% a fucking cunt wehtahd!!!!!!!!!!!! This is YYYYY!!!!

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I walked up the street in Atlantic City, where the south side of Resorts Casino is on, and approached the boardwalk, as I have done in waking world life on many an occasion; and lots of enemies surrounded me. Eventually Sarah Callio came up and gave me a monster punch in my face, knocking me down onto the boardwalk, and looking up at this big monster girl; with my mouth all bloody and dripping. A little blood got onto her bright purple and silver shoes, and she said to me, “Now, just like your dumb song from 1999, 'Blood On My Shoe', only it's your blood on my shoe, ya' little twirpy-nerd”. Then she spit right on my forehead, and said to me; “You and your sick family; we all are perfect together; and hey, no more dam letters to ex-Governor Kean, you little flabby old dirtbag”. Then I tried to get up, and Paula King who was standing next to her, then proceeded to give me a really hard shove, and I fell down hard again, onto the boardwalk. She was wearing a cool blouse, that had WAYV-FM-RADIO, in bright pink letters on it. Then Regis Philbin appeared, and I stayed down, even when he extended his hand out to me, as if to try and help me to stand back up; and I remember saying to him as clearly as I am typing this message now to the world; “Sir, I'll never know or understand just why these great powerful super girls hate my guts so much, and I've never ever done anything to these horrible dam witches”. After I said that, Ex-Mayor Robert Levy, and the current Chief of Police, placed hand cuffs on me and stood me up and arrested me, and said I was being charged for writing illegal songs and creating illegal rhyming. This is an exact quote. I laughed with blood still oozing out of my mouth from that punch that Sarah struck with me with five minutes earlier. Two broken off teeth came out as I laughed, and I said, “please tell me how this charge breaks any laws, Chief”? Then they said that the two 'Epitome of Harassment' copyrighted projects were in violation of some wild statute, and they read off a bunch of numbers that I cannot pull up now while back here and awake; kind Sheriff KJM. Then the hyperspace static struck and I was in the police station, and it was on the north shore in that universe, up on the top penthouse of a new high rise building; or one that I have never seen from over here, and it looked totally fresh and new and recently built. Then they placed me into my younger daughter PEE's invention, the tower that sits next to the PC where anything can be turned into zeros and ones, and sent through the cloud-net-interactive-mind, and reassembled by some wild 4-D laser and sent to any other PC station that has this device attached to it. I ended up in California, and suddenly saw the number '36' all over the place, and began wondering if this had anything to do with 36th Avenue in San Mateo, Cali, from my hellish 2011 experiences. Then the empty room I was handcuffed in and connected to a bar on a police desk, was filled with police officers. They began showing me a movie that matched a nightmare to the tee, that my late pal, David Charles Roth had back around 1991 or 1992, while I was living in the Patricia Meeker rental home on Route 561, in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, and speaking a lot to Prosecutor ADA Ronald Wirtz Senior, of Camden, New Jersey. I was running, along with him, all over this place in Cali, and we were caught eventually and tied up with many ropes, and someone came up and yelled to me, ''MARK MOHR'', and I said ''yes'', and the man then said, ''You're under arrest''. Dave used to tell me about this awful nightmare that he had experienced over and over, to me, in those times back then; and now I was actually being shown, HIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE, AND IN VIVID FUCKING DETAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Next week, no games, nod fuckiGN bullshit. Please expect my visit over to your office, Sheriff Mascara sir; as this cannot emmereffing be allowed to go on any longer. This is illegal activity and persecuting a dam ass citizen who has done absolutely nothing dam ass wrong, is immoral and illegal; and this HAS GOT TO BE DAM ASS STOPPED, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!












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New adventures of Tanstalker & Mountainpen will be upcoming, folks!!!!!!!!!


















MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW





OF COURSE; THIS WILL ALL HAVE TO BE POSTPONED UNTIL SHERIFF KJM HELPS ME GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS MAJOR ILLEGAL UTILITY PERSECUTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



JULY 5, 2015,
LATE ON SUNDAY MORNING, AT 11:05,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 84 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE TODAY-------(H-87/L-73).
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 77%, FEELING LIKE 93.
CALM WINDS ARE GUSTING SW TO 6.



YOU MISSED ME, JANE MONSTERWHORE FONDA; YO YO YO YO, YOU WITCHBITCH!!!!




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THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW!!!!


HALLS WALLS


CHAPTER 229




I AM UNDER A HEAVY FUCKING ATTACK, AND HAVE BEEN FOR A WHILE, WITH UTILITY PERSECUTION. ALL DAY TODAY, THE CABLE HAS BEEN FUNNY, AND AGAIN JUST PAST NINE A SHORT WHILE AGO; IT WENT OUT ENTIRELY, UNTIL I JIGGLED SOME WIRES THAT GO FROM THE CABLE BOX OUTPUT TO THE VCR-DVD MACHINE INPUT. THIS IS WHY A FEW DAYS AGO, WHEN I FIRST TURNED ON MY TV SYSTEM; IT WENT OUT AS TOLD ON THAT BLOG, ONLY I DID NOT SEE THAT THIS WAS THE PROBLEM. IT IS NOT ANYTHING OTHER THAN MILITUFORCE MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFFS, FUCKING WITH ME; AND I KNOW THAT PERFECTLY CUNT CHEWING WELL; FCC, FBI, ACLU, AND OTHERS OUT HERE.


JUST IN CASE IT IS THE MOTHER FUCKING RADIO SHACK RCA PLUG THAT IS BAD, AND THEY DO GO BAD FOR NO REASON AT ALL, AND ARE MADE TO WEAR OUT, SO THAT WE HAVE TO ALL SPEND OUR HARD EARNED CUNT EATING $$$$$$$$ CONSTANTLY FUCKING REPLACING SHIT; AND THIS PRACTICE IS DECADES FUCKING OLD, AND CALLED PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE; AND I AM HOOKING UP ANOTHER SET OF CABLES TO SEE IF THIS STOPS THE PROBLEM, AND IF IT DOES NOT; THEN I PLAN TO DEMAND SOME KIND OF ACTION BE TAKEN BY THE CABLE COMPANY; SINCE I AM PAYING FOR THIS 'FUCKIGN' SERVICE. I AM BEING HARASSED BY SOME KIND OF OTAMMIC MILITUFORCE ENEMY, AND I KNOW IT. RECENTLY I HAVE HAD PROBLEMS WITH THE CABLE COMPANY, AND WILL NOT BLOG IT UNLESS THEY GIVE ME REASON TO. ALSO, I AM UNDER ATTACK, AS WHEN I BLOGGED THESE LAST COUPLE OF SENTENCES, THE FIREWORK SHOW OUTSIDE, GOT DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO MY WINDOW, SHOOTING SOMETHING PRACTICALLY RIGHT INTO MY APARTMENT. JUST SO YOU KNOW, IN CASE I AM FOUND DEAD AND MURDERED IN HERE, SIR, SHERIFF K.J. MASCARA SIR, OF THIS WONDERFUL PSL-FL-USA COUNTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON TOP OF MAJOR PROBLEMS WITH MY SERVICE WITH FREEZES HAPPENING VERY REGULARLY OVER THE PAST MONTH OR TWO; THERE HAVE BEEN OTHER THINGS ALSO, AND I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT IF IT DOES NOT RESOLVE; MY BANK WILL GO TO BAT FOR ME, AND THIS COULD BE A HUGE LAWSUIT, SO LET US SEE WHAT HAPPENS. I AM TIRED OF MOTHER 'FUCKIGN' BEING SCREWED THE FUCK WITH; WHEN I DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING CUNT HUFFING WRONG IN THIS GOD DAM STINKNG ROTTEN ASS WORLD, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!






















































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{{{((*HALLS----------WALLS*))}}}

CHAPTER 229

















I had some horrible shit go down last week, besides major nightmares, as if that didn't mother fucking suck enough, lads and lassies. I had a major fucking problem with a bill, and I had other issues, neither of which are safe to talk about.



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DID YOU FIGURE OUT THE HYPERSPACE ROLLS OF THE NON DARK SHADOWS PHA PEEPS?



Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu000204016
1980
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu003037983
2005
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu002237985
1997

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Pau—stolen form
2013

THIS IS A PHONY DUPLICATION, AND BECAUSE THAT LADY STOLE MY COPYRIGHT FORM, I CANNOT EVEN PRINT UP THE PAULA KING REGISTRATION NUMBER!!!!!!!!!


THE TERRORIST GIRL, WAS THE HYPERSPACE DARK SHADOWS PARALLEL WORLD CLEANING LADY!


















JULY 4, 2015,
SATURDAY NIGHT AT 9:37,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 83 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE TODAY----(H-90/L-70).
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 79%, FEELING LIKE 91.
WIND IS SE AT 6,WITH TINY GUSTS TO 17.










Holy pig fucking shit, I am tired of being harassed. Talk about an endless fucking cunt epitomized 1988-1989 Copyrighted time capsule music project, YO!!!!!!!!!!







THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.



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