Sunday, July 26, 2015

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT LIVES ON IN C21 AND M3, CHAPTER ELEVEN





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WELCOME KIND PERSON.

YOU ARE READING THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN,

AND THE AFTER MORIANITY PTOJECT (AMP).

BOOK TITLE:

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT LIVES ON IN C21 AND M3, CHAPTER #




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Now let's be real and serious for a while, and do some real soul searching, and heart heeling logical reasoning and deducing!


First off, a blog with one follower, Mister Chris; and a fine fellow may I add here; is not going to have a global map showing hits all over the world as well as quickly changing as though they are all as rich as Mister Trump. I seriously doubt that even he or those he associates with, does that much daily traveling, year in and out. So what gives, as the street thugs used to say back in my day?



Before I go on; I just want to print an honest retraction to something that I said earlier, about my great distant cousin, not caring for the 'peon-people'; by his own verbal admissions, so why should we trust him as our leader? Well, I WAS WRONG, and I own up to it, great cousin sir. When I saw the replay of your Tuesday Carolina speech; I saw where you said you like to make jobs, and help small people live better, with more money. I thought you hated us. I for one, am willing to give this man a chance!!!! Just maybe things might get better for me after 62 years of life; at the point he would be entering the W.H. Hell, I'll gamble on anything, as he knows only too well from me, back in '86! Now, on with the blog.



I am not going to begin to ever tell anyone that I know precisely where my paranoia ends and absolute reality begins, or the other way around. All I do know for sure is that all my fucking life, something has been terribly fucking wrong in my life, no matter how hard I ever try and fight to stop it. If this does not describe the word 'CURSE', then what fucking does, kind people out here? And I also know another couple of small items one hundred percent, without a single tiny doubt in my mind whatsoever. First, whatever is all around me invisibly seems to go way beyond any possible human technology or ability, even all of the combined mighty Black File Agencies of the great USA, or the (BFA) as I call it for short. I can kid myself for a light year cubed, but I totally know this, and I totally get this. Anything less than that is simply me kidding my mother fuckiGN self, and I totally promise you all that!


Then there is this, 'folks', or whoever is out there! I have explored the purgatory. I have been as you humans would call it, dead forever. I remember it. You don't have to believe me. Whether you do or don't will alter no part of my truth, IPYT! Along with this is another ingredient. Something out in this purgatory has caused me to have something beyond strange, and weird, and outlandishly bizarre; to be somehow endlessly connected with my life here as Mark Wayne Mohr. Ever since I not only left school, but this began back in the last year or so, of being STILL IN SCHOOL, and this is that very screwy item that many people who cross paths with me, either are, or will become down the road; a major name recognized celebrity of one kind or another. As someone with skill and more than a rudimentary knowledge in mathematics; I can promise you with authority that I have calculated the odds of all these people being just that, by random luck of the draw, now get this; would be around forty eight and a half nonillion to one against it happening. To give you an idea of that number, there is thousand, million, billion, trillion, quadrillion, quintillion, sextillion, septillion, octillion, and then comes nonillion. That's not a tiny little number, great kind and wonderfully splendid people, out there in Blog-land!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






































































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JULY 26, 2015,
SUNDAY NIGHT AT 9:46,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 81 DEGREES FNHT.
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 74%, FEELING LIKE 86.
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Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000546149
1983

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000501582
1983

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000540585
1983

























Now just as with any of a million possible things I could go on and begin to get heavily into, let us pick 1983 and that time in my life at age 28 or so, when I was given some strange mysterious nightmare health condition out of nowhere that no doctor on Earth could properly diagnose or help me with, at least not at first. Well never really, just allowing me to mask and treat its symptoms with 28 milligrams of an anti-anxiety medication called Ativan. I totally believed I was going to die and was very very mother fucking psychically ill from this monstrous unexplainable assault on my health that came on me out of the blue like a lightning bolt, at half past ten on th enight of 4 June in 1983, while watching a movie on television and having some M&M candy and a soda. I wrote a lot of music after I got sick and then was a little bit better on the anti-anxiety meds. I also wrote one of those 1983 musical projects before the attack came on me. But rapped up inside the attack on me as well as the music, was major shit that totally was all connected up in the very shit that the start of this blog was discussing.



Both 1980 and 1983 were extremely pivotal years in this entire mess, as was 1969. But trying to really delve into this would force me to also write about 1000 pages like this page, minimum, unless I didn't want to be totally frank and open and honest about so many things. This is because so much is all connected together, but most people cannot see while humanly mortal and physically alive, just how their lives actually do have many so-called connecting dots, that all come out of higher dimensionality due to complex Lawtronic forces, that go way too far beyond anything that I would dare try to tell about right now tonight; kind folks. I talked about cosmic fifth dimensional prints that do indeed get thrown around in hyperspace while we all dream, and the more vivid the dreams are, normally; the more of the prints that we either leave behind there in parallel realms, or bring back to waking life from over there, or both!










SHERIFF SIR, SOMEONE IN TOWN TOLD ME AND SHOWED ME A SECRET SO BIG, THAT I DID NOT DARE COME TO YOUR OFFICE THIS WEEK, SIR. IT PROVES THAT THE GIANT TOP SOCIAL MEDIA PEOPLE HAVE THWARTED MY ATTEMPTS TO LET ME TELL MY TRUE STORY TO THE WORLD. IT PROVES OBSTRUCTION, AND HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATIONS, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT IF I SHOW IT TO YOU, AND YOU KNIFE ME; I AM A DEAD MAN. I have yet to go over to the sheriff's office. I am uncertain whether or not it would be a huge mistake. These whatever things they truly are, can get to, and at, anyone; at any time. Just because we cannot see and hear many things; people love to insist that they are not real and not there. I guess atoms don't exist to them, or germs, or radio and TV signals, the internet, the broadband and satellite signals, and electricity too, for that matter. Six quintillion tiny subatomic particles make up one amperage of electricity. While awake and here in physical form, we are not designed to or supposed to, be able to see these incredible things. But they are there, they are aware, and they care. IPYT, and that is no worthless little rhyme or coded poem, Misses 1969 Marola of Wormhole Cooley Hall!




















































































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Around ten or sp this morning, my annoying nabes and guests left until just past six, and then came doors, but after twenty minutes or so, they left again, lovely Mizz Debra Marotto, Resident Manager. She said there would be hurricane doors installed that close by themselves, but it might take a while. Who knows, maybe it will fucking take a hurricane! You know, the traffic light accident syndrome. After enough little kids are hurt or worse, then up goes the traffic light. Speaking of that, the recent current news story that even blends in a tiny bit with the entire blog from back in my print shoop days of 1977; it totally boggles my mind that in these P.C. New age days, young teens, experienced or not, would be allowed to use the Bahama Crossing in small fishing boats, all by themselves. I seriously doubt this outcome will be good. That's an ocean out there with 5 million square miles and storms that pop up out of nowhere for crissake, as they recently have been doing. Where's your brain, parents? This blog has heard me thank Diana for coming around on an almost daily basis for a week or more. For those who may not know Diana, that is LIGHTNING.







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WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes sir; back as the sixties turned into the seventies; I thought I'd be real dam creative, and two powerful things were created in my mind. These would be the Speedship Sunram; run on solar power, and Timeless Satellite; an entire world to be lived in and on, in my future. Well just because neither of these things appeared on the surface level to have worked out; is very dam meaningless. I told years back on these blogs from back in Jersey, and again early into my time here in Florida; how I left notes in a wild way, hoping to make contact with the citizens in the future, on Timeless Satellite; and then have them come to Earth as well as back through time itself, to get me and whisk me away to there. Interesting when you stop and realize how long ago that all was, as well as how young I was. But that is only scratching a quarter fucking ounce of peach fuzz ice shaving off of the great berg that sank the Titanic back in 1912! As James Rockford Maverick told that Mob Enforcer dude on his cool early seventies TV-show; “We can always get back to this”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


END TRANSMISSION.































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2006-2015, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


(BOM) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN



© MARK WAYNE MOHR

AFTER MORIANITY BOOK TITLE:

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT LIVES ON IN C-21 & M-3

CHAPTER 010




Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001148157
1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001189027
1989






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2006-2015



JULY 26, 2015
EARLY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
THE TIME IS 12:20 P.M.
THE TEMPERATURE IS 85 DEGREES.
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 75%, FEELING LIKE 94.
WIND IS SW AT 7, WITH GUSTS TO 9.
TEMPERATURE RANGE TODAY-----(H-87/L-75).



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WOW — FOR THE LOVE OF PETEE POTE, AND PETER VITERITTI; just what is reality, Jim Garrigan from “get the hell out of there 1970”?





I WISH THE FEDERAL FUCKING COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION WOULD GET THESE CUNT LAPPING COMPUTER HACKERS OFF MY DICK LICKING DAM ASS BACK; LADS AND LASSIES!!!!!!!!!!!












































I was sitting here minding my own pussy huffing bees wax, Sheriff KJM sir; a couple hours ago, and suddenly fell asleep in my chair watching TV. A commercial woke me up about bees and some related item. I looked down on the floor thinking a roach was there, and it was a large black bumble bee. I was able to kill it and throw it in the trash. Also when I wake in the night for a glass of water and to piss; I am seeing a roach here and there again, in my kitchen. Every time these fuckiGN roach-nabes are all around with all their noisy fucking uncouth roach-illegal guests; I HAVE TO ENDURE A TON OF FUCKING BUGS, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, AND IT IS NOT FAIR!


I can honestly say this has been the worst weekend of my life, or can I? I realize there are so many bad ones that my judgment may be somewhat impaired any more, YO. But it is interesting how the tape from the GOOD WILL STORE from back in 1995 up on Long Island, has my distant cousin saying to his wife, “This was the worst weekend of my life”, and this was on May 11, 1995, lovely gorgeous Jennifer Love Sarah Party-5 Hewitt! But I've also come to learn how all these TV shows, especially the ones that Ann King put me onto; seem to know all about me and my life from the day I was out of fucking high school. I know my kid is somehow friends with all these people and doing this to me, and for reasons that only her wild unfathomable mind, can ever hope to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holy pisswater, Peter Vitteritti, YO!
Holy pisswater, Peter Vitteritti, YO!
Holy pisswater, Peter Vitteritti, YO!
Holy pisswater, Peter Vitteritti, YO!
Holy pisswater, Peter Vitteritti, YO!

This is all why my mother fucking PHILLY PHILLIES BASEBALL FUCKING CLUB, is the worst team in baseball. By wrecking my entire life, the parallel event technology ruins them, and it isn't fucking fair, President Obama, kind friend and great sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


ALL SAVANTS KNOW THIS SHIT; ''THE END''.



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My Photo



2006-2015, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


(BOM) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN



© MARK WAYNE MOHR

AFTER MORIANITY BOOK TITLE:

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT LIVES ON IN C-21 & M-3

CHAPTER 009






Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001148157
1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001189027
1989




My mother fucking dirt bag NABES FROM HELL are all one big bunch of friends who do nothing but go in and out of each other's place all day and night long. This has been a really nasty fucking day today, Sheriff with constant slamming doors and loud shouting in the dam hallway. All my cunt chewing life, the enemies have succeeded at making both parameters of my life total mother fuckiGN life, HLS and JLS, (HOME LIFE AND JOB LIFE SITUATIONS)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Same cunt chewing same old, nothing fucking new at all going down, BRO! Nasty mother fucking constant COMPUTER HACKING, FCC, in total fuckiGN cunt violation of my god dam mother fuckiGN civil rights, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

COMPUTER-MAGNESONIC

ALL COMMANDS, ALL ORDERS, ALL TECKS.

SCAN ALL ENEMIES MAKING MY LIFE AN ENDLESS TURD CHEWING FUCKING NIGHTMARE HELL, AND UNDER A PUNISHMENT DESTRUCT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, DESTROY THESE 'FUCKIGN' BASTARDS, AND THEIR ENTIRE FAMILIES!


EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE


EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

AND STOP!





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I am going to take this machine over to Sheriff Mascara's office next week and really blow the guy's mind, and prove to him just how mother fuckiGN real my life is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


THIS MOTHER FUCKING HACKING IS OFF THE SCALE! WORD DISAPPEARING HACK, MOUSE NOT HOLDING HIGHLIGHTS HACK, AND JUMPING HACK, AND ON AND FUCKING CUNT ON AND FUCKIGN CUNT ON, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!! They just won't mother fuckiGN back it off, Federal Communications Commission.


SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, I AM UNDER A VERY HEAVY ATTACK AS OF a long mother fucking time ago now, kind sir, please please please can't you fucking help me a little bit, kind sir?


One thing I can promise these cunt huffing fucking bastards. There will be great turmoil the world over, as my Magnesonic system is not going to sit idly mother fuckiGN by endlessly, while I get pummeled to death by billionaire arrogant bastard fuckiGN twat eating scum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


There was a mother fuckiGN dick licking movie in 2001 that had Detective Mike Logan from Law & Order, in it, called HOUSE OF GLASS. My life is a lot like that of that poor teen girl. It is very much like this, never catching a fuckiGN break from horrible enemies; endlessly. I'll never forget that frightening mother fuckiGN movie, kind folks. If you never saw it, you need to fuckiGN rent it or buy it, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!! Sure it is over the top, but lighten it up just a little bit, and you have my 2008-2009 situation as well as my entire life situation, BRAH!



Well, call me a mother fucking liar if you want to, but these enemies sent here by my family, the billionaires, and Atlantic City and Wall Street; have defied both me and the great SHERIFF of SL County, Ken Mascara. ''The exact same thing was done to me ALL OVER AGAIN''. Hey Dave Speas YO; I have made that nausiating statement over 200 times, and you told me time would catch up with me over 200 times. Soon, by my frame of reference, old magic marker thief; you'll be telling this to me again, and I'll be looking at you smiling, and keeping quiet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Don't be too mother fuckign shocked at a huge earthquake that will really make the world rock and roll. This persecution of me will be stopped or the world will blow the fuck up! IPYT!

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BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
AFTER MORIANITY PROJECT (AMP)
2006-2015




JULY 25, 2015,
SATURDAY NIGHT, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, AND
THE TIME IS 10:35 P.M.
THE TEMPERATURE IS 77 DEGREES.
TODAY'S RANGE--------(H-88/L-75).
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 94%, FEELING LIKE 82 DEGREES.
WIND IS WSW AT 3, WITH STRONG GUSTS AT 22.




















THERE'S GOING TO BE SOME SORRY MOTHER FUCERS OUT HERE SOMEWHERE FOR ALL THIS DEATH SIEGE ON MOTHER FUCKING ME FOR 61 YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!

SAVANTS ALL KNOW THIS ONE, “THE END!






My Photo



2006-2015, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


(BOM) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN



© MARK WAYNE MOHR

AFTER MORIANITY BOOK TITLE:

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT LIVES ON IN C-21 & M-3, CHAPTER 008






Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001148157
1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
PAu001189027
1989


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I'M GODDESS DAM GETTING LOTS OF FUCKING NASTY SHIT EATING COMPUTER HACKING; BOB MCDOWELL, RICK SCOTT, FBI, FCC, AG-BONDI, AG-USA, ACLU, AND ANY OTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
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Sheriff, I've not seen shit this bad since it started and kept going along, the first five fucking years of this hell, kind sir, from middle 86 through middle 91, holy pig fart eaters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY GODDESS!!!!!!!!!


THAT ASSHOLE NABE ABOVE ME, WITH HER ENDLESS TRUSTY ROSE CAJOBY WILLIAMSTOWN HIGHVIEW HAMMER; IS AT IT AGAIN. IT WAS HER LAST NIGHT, AND NOW IT IS ALL DAY TODAY. WOW FUCKING THIS BULLSHIT!!!! I THOUGHT IT WAS CAPS GOING OFF; BUT IT WAS HER ON THAT DAM HAMMER LAST PUSSY CHEWING EVENING, YO.


JANE DIRTBAG CAME REAL FUCKING CLOSE TO STRIKING ME, AND I AM GOING TO PUT MY FIVE NUMBERS UP AS AN EXTRA MEASURE OF STRENGTH, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555



God dam this fucking world, and happy birthday to AMERICA. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!














Mark_from_nj



JULY 25, 2015,
EARLY SATURDAY AFTERNOON, AT 12:49,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 87 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE TODAY-------(H-87/L-75).
HUMIDITY IS 67%, FEELING LIKE 96 DEGREES.
WIND IS WSW AT AA, WITH GUSTING TO 22.




















































    Image result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny faces







HA-HA-HA-HA-FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY.



WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!






HEY, I'M NO GODDAM FUCKING EASTER BUNNY, AND I SURE AIN'T THE BEARDED GUY OF ALL GLOUCESTER FRIENDS, JAMES T. KNOWITALL BURRBARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






WeatherBug Photos







    THE GREAT AWESOME TWB, YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













































      Image result for images free funny faces Image result for images free funny faces Image result for images free funny faces Image result for images free funny faces Image result for images free funny faces







You just go right on laughing at me. I know a magic person from Long Beach Island, who knows the biggest secret of all, Patty Hollister; and told me. You know, that SHE'LL get me for this. Well, she got me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!











I COULD MOTHER FUCKING CRY LIKE A BABY, AND THRASH MY ARMS OUT LIKE I DID THAT DAY, OVER AT THE PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE, THAT UPSET POOR RON; BUT I WON'T. HOWEVER, THIS DUDE SURE WILL, BREEEE!

    Image result for images free funny faces



''AND THAT'S JUST REALITY, SON”.


    • Image result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny faces
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So gorgeous Dawn; bring it fucking on!!!!!!!!

    Image result for images free funny faces












The peon people lose the second they get up in the mother fuckiGN morning. I'll say hold the dam mayo anytime I'm asked, CUZZ!!!!!!!! Cool shot with the bayonet!




You can search and search away kind friends and enemies out here, but will you ever really find what you're all looking for? Holy dam Callio and AT&T CALL-TEN back in the nineteen-nineties, I doubt it extremely.










GOLLY GASH DARN GEE WIZZ, ALL GREAT COPYRIGHT OFFICE EXAMINERS!!!!!!!


I TOLD EVERYBODY THAT DOMESTIC TERROR WOULD FAR OUTWEIGH ANY OF THAT STUPID ASS FOREIGN FUCKING BULLSHIT, 20 YEARS AGO, AND THEY LAUGHED AT ME. ALL THINGS CAN BE CHARTED AND PROJECTED OUT INTO THE FUTURE WITH GREAT SUCCESS, BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, YOU HAVE TO KNOW SOME BIG ASS SECRETS ON EXACTLY HOW TO DO SHIT, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!




Is anybody out here getting half as fucking sick and tired as I am at this new barrage cubed, of medical promotions and ad spots on the old tele????????? I know I am, just as I am fucking cunt tired of my computer being crashed and hacked by total vulgar scum sucking pricks, as just happened at nineteen mother fuckiGN minutes past one. “Tell your doctor”, is all we hear, about eight billion times a day, if we watch any serious TV. I would love to know what fucking cunt doctors you assholes out there running these ad-spots, all go to. My doctors bark out orders at me,and there is no telling them fuckiGN dogshit, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! If anyone can put me in touch with these magical television-doctors, please do so. If you do, I will gladly pay you 500 dollars, CASH!!!!!!!!!!





I can't speak for any of you reading these words, but I personally think this is totally fucking ridiculous!!!!!!




Hay, who listens to me anywho? Even this little girl would probably tell me to shut up and wise up and all of that, who can ever know, dock? All I know is that Morty fucking dirtbag Mortino is on my right side now with another nasty and annoying death-anger-assault.



OH DOCTOR DOCTOR, TELL ME SOME MOTHER 'FUCKIGN' NEWS, YO!!!!!!!! 'CAUSE I'VE GOT A BAD CASE OF LOSING SOMETHING, CERTIANLY NOT THE DAM ASS BLUES, OR 1980 RIVERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LET ME END THIS DAM TRANSMISSION.

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