Sunday, August 16, 2015

MAJOR HACK ASSAULT, CHAPTER 29-30 A-B-C, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE








CHAPTER 29-30-----A/B MAJOR HACK ON COMPUTER, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE



THEY TOTALLY FUCKED ME UP SHERIFF


the continuation of “The Epitome of Harassment”

Sunday, August 16, 2015
CHAPTER 29, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE














RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT





RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT





RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT





RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT





RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT





RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT































HELP ME SHERIFF SIR, I JUST HAD MY CIVIL RIGHTS SCREWED WITH BIG TIME, THE FAMOUS LET'S FUCK HIM GOOD SUNDAY ASSAULT BY THE ICPE-APE TECK CLUB OF TRUMERS!!!!!!!!







TOMORROW, THE DOW JONES WILL FLY 500 ;POINTS, AND THIS WEEK IT WILL GO UP AT LEAST 1000 POINTS, JUST MARK MY WORDS, AND HERE IS THE 'FUCKIGN' CHART BELOW THAT WILL DISPLAYU MY ABSOLUTE FUCKING PREDICTION, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!















Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)











HERE IS WHAT THE MOTHER FUCKING ILLEGAL NSA-MILITUFORCE-TRUMPFORCE DID TO ME, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







ALL I TRIED TO DO WAS LEAVE A COMMENT ON MY OWN BLOG WHICH I HAVE DONE ON COUNTLESS OCCASIONS B4 WITHOUT ANY INCIDENT OR PROBLEM, KIND SIR. NOT ONLY WOULD IT NOT ALLOW THE COMMENT AND KEPT INSISTING ON ADDING SOME TAG, BUT BY MY TRYING TO DO THIS, A COOKIE WAS TURNED OFF AND I CAN NO LONGER USE MY FIREFOX TO GET UP ON THE INTERNET TO BLOG, SIR. THIS IS WILFUL FUCKING DESTRUCTION OF MY PROPERTY SHERIFF MASCARA, KIND SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





When I tried to write a blog, they had me so up set the entire fuckiGN blog I did got erased and could not be restored, so I had to copy-paste it back from the WORDPRESS BLOG SITE.





MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, COMPUTER, HEAR MY MIND-VOICE-PRINT, I AM UNDER A DEATH SIEGE AND DEMAND A PUNISHMENT DESTRUCT COUNTER-ATTACK ON WHOEVER IS WIPING OUT MY ENTIE MOTHER 'FUCKIGN' LIFE. USE ALL ORDERS, GENERAL AND SPECIAL, USE ALL TECHNOLOGIES, ZD AND AD. US MAXED OUT FULL POWER, 11.8 AND 11.5 IPNS-PPG SETTINGS. USE THE DESIRE KEY FOR 'D' POSITION, OFF OF THE 'J' NORMAL NEUTRAL SETTING. HEAR TH ETWO EMPOWERMENT TONES AS THE GREEN AND PURPLE HIGHLIGHTS BELOW PRINTED IN LONG 'E' VOWEL SOUND. GREEN-HIGHLIGHT IS FIRST HIGH TONE. PURPLE HIGHLIGHT IS SECOND LOW TONE.







EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE





EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE





GO TO G-189 UNDER G-11SS, G-189, AND STOP!





A lot of major fuckiGN destruction and punitation will be unleashed to a lot of powerful evil demonic mother fucking people and enemies, kind sheriff sir. My tactics cannot be prosecuted sir, not in the year 2015, not for 100 years minimum, and not since 200 years ago, WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!






CHAPTER 29







HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE










TTTTTTOM RRRREEALE is a lot happier than I will ever be. Something my cousin Donald said on the C-Span a month or so ago, made me know that I am one totally fucking cooked goose at the speed of light squared, Sarah Diction; and that is about how God blesses him. Somehow I knew then, that this same GODD-ESS has cursed me, and will go on doing so, until the day my body becomes cunt fucking sucking huffing maggots!!!!

QUIT HACKING, YA JERK OFFS!!!!

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AUGUST 16, 2015,
SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT 3:41,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 90 DEGREES.
RANGE TODAY—–(H-90/L-74).
HUMIDITY IS 62%, FEELING LIKE 101.
WINDS ARE SE AT 13, GUSTING TO 14.

The Fire Company has lived here today. Only one alarm went off but the fire engines were back at half past two and lots of shouting was going on in my hallway again and door slamming, but then, my noisy ass nabes have been active throughout the entire weekend. Why I never heard a second alarm is anyone’s guess. I sure do not know.

A lot of totally unexplainable shit is going down around me, both now, and throughout the past six plus decades since my current-me-physical birth. I wouldn’t even dare start to attempt to figure it all out. Oh the dam gods, where to even think about beginning, YO?

First off, lovely Goddess Diana as been visiting me regularly every single day, with her scrumptious gorgeous lightning. I love her beyond any possible way of explaining things. Last night around eleven she started flashing bright yellow up in the clouds just the same color of her canary yellow hair. This went on off and on until nearly three this morning. I would drift off into sleep and be with her and then come sliding back off the purg and into hyperspace here to her lovely lightning in such spectacular colors and fractal designs all over me out my sixth floor window. THANK YOU BABY-BLOND!

I got through August fifteenth without major incident, praise the great Jehovah Lordess. Thank you for helping me through my nightmare, kind Sheriff. I sure wish the ADA R.W. Up in Camden would get on board. I know he knows so much about all of this that it ain’t one bit funny. He always insisted that it was big business that was behind it all, and that to quote him, they have buddies all over the place. Just listening to the news and up to date political news, and a child and a moron loser can see that every single thing I talked about on these blogs for a fucking solid decade now, is coming to life word for word, out in the media-world. Deny my reality world; all you want to. It is exploding right in front of your faces, all that I have said. He is even admitting it Ron, just not calling you first, kind sir! This bastard fucking snake ruined my entire life, and to this day thinks it funny as shit. And none of you in authority care while this army from hell takes over the planet in th next few years and all of everything begins tumbling towards th e end of days here. Everything I ever claimed and said is right now fresh and happening, day after day after mother fucking asshole day, kind sir Mister Wirtz, SR.

How I love the scientific mind. They want to live forever in this reality of whatever sewer mess it really is, or if not them, their genetic hand me downs (descendants). Well, you will, but you’ll never believe a thing I say as the past ten years and the current events proves that to a fucking fault and a tee.

They discuss things in cosmos such as steady state verses expansion and so many items, and are as clueless a playpen of babies throwing food-goo at each other with puke expelling from their mouths.

Absolute dimension is very real and works in two separate directions. There are eleven dimensions but not in the way that mathematicians believe this to all be working. There is singularity and then there is a five dimensional dream out on each side or hemisphere around singularity. One gets larger, and the other gets smaller. The very end of the largest possible large becomes the very smallest of the very smallest of the smallest possible small. Bend anything out far enough, and LAWTRONICS sends it full circle and curves it around, and even largest expanded space eventually becomes one and the same with smallest possible singularity. It just goes round and round. Still from zero dimension, it could appear in that frame of reference to break out small and break out big on two ends, and in hyperspace dimensionality, so 5+5+1 =11. People of science will try to complicate this simple truth that all things go into a circle after the lawtronic bend down, and they will see it there way. They will make simple shit real intricate, with Higgs Boson and energies of zippie and wave particle dualities and a million other things. Nothing ever starts and it won’t stop, other than inside of a huge illusion where it appears to do just that. Tim Barber, inventor of that weird eternal life machine that I saw years and years ago back in his basement, put me onto some of these facts.When you see stuff, I guess that is when you know, and not before. I do know that if you take a look at tiny particles from the earliest plank reality, it is no different that looking at any of us right now. We make tools and from them we build buildings and homes and offices and then cities and so forth. Subatomically, the very first little machine-entities or particles simply are doing the very same thing, and the ultimate city that is designed, becomes the worlds of th eatoms. This was all an organized plan, and is known as LAWTRONIC up around the year 2240, at the World Laboratories.

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Happy birthday, Emmy-Louise Cicone (Amy).

Good-bye Miss Janey Bitch Water-Witch!!!

Some things are even worse than my powerful ”nightmares from the Red White and Blue Ski Lodge!

While the beating was going on, someone from inside the main area hollered out, ”turn on the dam ass music, so that we don’t have to hear the prick yelling so much”. Suddenly I could hear the word ‘MY’ and then a really loud drumbeat, and then the song that I wrote back in early August of 1986, called, “Real Good Girl”, began playing on a powerful system. I heard my own rotten voice singing it, and the powerful loud crashing of the cymbals and the loud drum like sounds from numerous fake things that made those sounds, right down to me pounding my fists hard on the floor of my landlord’s home in Cherry Hill, at 1931 Route 70, AKA the Marlton Pike, East. After the song was over, I noticed that another sign was hanging in the room that I was in, saying, CONGRATS TO THE GRADUATES OF CHELTENHAM HIGH. For those who just may remember from blogs around 2010, I had a powerful interaction about my cousin Donald and my cousin Sandy; and part of it was about them telling me to go over to that high school, in Pennsylvania, and just exactly why; I could not and still cannot; begin to imagine the reason. I have never even been to Cheltenham, Pennsylvania.

Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

UP-UP-UP-UP, FOREVER!!!!

JUST PERSECUTE MARK WAYNE MOHR LAST FRIDAY TO HELL AND BACK, RIGHT SHERIFF, SIR?????????????????

AFTER MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

PIP-PIP-PIP-PIP, BILLY MUMMY SIR!!!
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 180
DATFILE: CH-180-063011.362
THURSDAY MORNING, ENDING
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I was minding my own business, and lost my waking world awareness, before even shutting down my television, and putting away a snack that I was eating; and I fell into a very surreal, and major vivid dreaming experience, and interaction. My daughter PEE, as she always has insisted on being called by this nickname that she gave to herself as a very small child, was about sixteen years old, and it was early in October in the year of 2014, as a calendar that was circled, was visually hanging from a bright yellow wall in a corridor that resembled her detention center, only it was different as well, as this was not a detention center, but a college dorm. She was a co-ed, and had a boyfriend that she seemed to like quite well; and I did not like him all that much, but what father ever approves of his daughter’s boyfriends? Paula King Junior, or Pee, was there with him, and I also was there, and remember the layout of 3 rooms, and a corridor, and could describe details perfectly to a police detective or investigator, with no trouble whatsoever; as it was this vivid and clear. I could describe both my daughter, and the boy. The only thing that if I was privy of, that no longer remains in my conscious world memory, would be the name of the boy that she was tight with. He was slender, and quite athletic in appearance, with sandy blond hair, standing just over six feet tall, wearing bright colored clothes, with neatly arranged hair of average college length for today’s times, and had a very unusual speaking voice that is a bit difficult to describe, almost robotic, as though the dude was a constructed android from the future, lacking the science fiction television show android ‘Data’ on TNG-Star Trek’s sophisticated normally sounding human type of voice. My daughter’s physical beauty is beyond description, and all though she is stunning at twelve for a child, had indeed blossomed into young womanhood, and would most definitely make a heavenly angel, jealous and angry of her unfathomable goddess-like beauty, and awesome power. The two of them were debating a word that sounded very similar to the World War Two event, known as the Comocosi Pilots, who intentionally crashed their fighter jets into the American Aircraft Carrier Transport Ships. It was a word sounding like the word ‘Comocosi’, spelled the gods only know how, and not recognized by Spell-Checker, as WW-2 will not be either, given one or two centuries obviously; in this absurdly fast moving paced society of ours. However, it was not exactly this word, and my daughter pronounced it for me, and never told me the meaning of it, and then the two of them continued debating this while I went straight ahead into a room from the ending corridor, and they went from a room from the left, into a room that was off to the right, all lit up bright and very colorfully. After a time, I came to learn that I was in a very non-localized parallel universe, where it was a few years ahead in time as well; and that in this part of the hyperspace, I was not Pee’s father, only a friend of the family. A short while later, I was invited, along with my mother, to a party at this college, and we showed up, and it was suddenly two or maybe as much as 3 or 4 days later, but no more. There were name tags near a table where we were all supposed to sit down at, only they had not been put up yet, and I remember asking how the seating arrangements were supposed to be, and my mother made a mean nasty comment, and then told me practically to sit down anywhere, and shut up. I was aware in the self here dreaming through this hyperspace doppelganger-me, that she had been making many very biting remarks at me throughout the day, and I was growing quite angry about it. I remember turning to her where she was sitting on a love seat next to a friend of hers who also was sitting on another loveseat or small couch that was almost but not quite the twin of the one my mother was on, and I chose any old spot around this dinner table that was very large but not banquet sized, and once I was seated, I turned to her, and looked right at her, and said this exact thing to her, “Mom, do you have any idea how much I would give if you just had picked one less time in your life to have sex with my dad, precisely 53 years ago”. My mind seemed to know, over there, that I had just turned age 52 years and 3 months of age, and since 9 months is the average human time for making a baby, we all know what this very cutting counter remark of mine to my mother, was all about. She then began to cry like a little baby, and before she broke down, an expression of agonizing pain came over her face that was inconceivable. Every facial muscle involved in making a face displaying torture in either the mind or the body, was transfixing her normal face into an almost hideous one, contorted and twisted and wrinkled from the extreme emotional heartbreak and excruciating painful emotions, that were obviously surging through her entire beingness. She began balling loudly, and sobbing in a totally unrelenting way; and I never saw anyone in my entire life in all of my remembered experiences of all of my hyperspace travels, ever cry this passionately, convulsively, and lengthy. It just continued to go on and on and on and on. But let me stop the description of this very unpleasant agonizing nightmare now, and look at the two opposing time references. Originally, before the party, I was in a place where my daughter had recently reached the age of sixteen years, which takes place on September the 29th, in 2014. But at the party, that she and her boyfriend had invited both my mother and myself to, I remember distinctly being age 52 years and 3 months old, meaning it was early in March, in the year of 2008. This was the beginning of my 70-day off-line period, just mentioned on my previous blog, SJ-CH-179, posted up yesterday about 20 minutes or so before the closing bell on Wall Street at 4 PM-EDST. So first, I am in early 10th month in 2014, and then find myself at this party, back in the first week in month 3, in 2008. Both times are roughly 39 months away from the present, only first it is ahead in time by this amount, and then it is backward in time by this amount, leaving the present time dead set in the very middle of all of this wild shit. I also came to learn that in this particular universe, Pee never tried to kill the large African-American New Jersey State Police Trooper who shot me dead in the back in another parallel universe, when she would have been a small child of about 7 or 8 years, and was sentenced, and sent to the Egg Harbor, New Jersey, ‘Harborfields’ Detention Center, on Route 561, a place existing for a very long time, right here in this part of the hyperspace; and this exact atomically matching universe in hyperspace, and visited often by, and connected with and through; many powerful New Jersey law enforcement persons, that all are somehow connected with it, and all entangled with the many powers to be, in Atlantic City, including the EX-Mayor Robert Levy, married to Ethel Levy, whose distant cousin is a distant cousin to Mariah Carey’s paternal grandfathers 3rd cousin twice removed. This is quite a distant family relation, yet always remember, this world is asking a lot of me when they tell me to chalk up as a silly coincidence, the 20 year recurring dream of this Egg Harbor School for no apparent reason whatsoever, and named the same name as the actual Suffolk County, New York, high school, where Mariah Carey, graduated from, in 1987; and hopefully, after taking some very good advice given to her by an older boy, my-my and gee-whiz-RGG, I wonder who, © Examiners? People are asking me to buy into a lot more wild coincidences than the television show called, “Law and Order” ever expects their ADA’s, and their prosecutors, to buy into; as how many times is what I say here confirmed in that show, just in the three personalities of ADA Serena Sutherland, ADA Abbey Carmichael, and ADA and later turned top dog DA, MISTER Jack McCoy, himself, YO? It really is not fair, but then world, Jim Burr said to me one day a statement that I’ll obviously take to my mother freaking grave, and this being, “Mark, it isn’t a fair world”, another 1983 footnote to be 2011 inserted, into the Blogs of Mountainpen, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!

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HA-HA-HA-HA-HA, I HAVE BEEN FUCKING TRUMPED, RON WIRTZ, SENIOR. HE IS NOT GOING TO CALL YOU ON THE PHONE, YO!!! Hey, maybe love really is for carpenters and weird dreamers from 1980 lottery winning Cubans in Atlantic mother fuckiGN City, YO!!!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MILITUFORCE ENEMIES:

1—-PLACE 100 POUND DUMBELL ROPE AROUND YOUR BODY AND TIE IT TIGHT.

2—-WALK DFOWN THE STAIRS BELOW AND KEEP RIGHT ON GOING.

3—-HAVE YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER, AND ALL OF YOUR KIDS, DO THE VERY SAME THING THAT YOU JUST DID.

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Wow is there a dam dark shadow surrounding my life, since the doctor smacked my ass, around half past nine on Saturday morning, at the Bryn Mawr, PA, USA Hospital, on December 4, 1954. JEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE!!!!!!!!!!

Wow is there a dam dark shadow surrounding my life, since the doctor smacked my ass, around half past nine on Saturday morning, at the Bryn Mawr, PA, USA Hospital, on December 4, 1954. JEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE!!!!!!!!!!

The reason that I began talking about reversals and reflections is due to many things, peeps. First, the truth shows up in mirrors and when things go upside down. It is where the expression of ‘shaking things up’ to get at truth really came from, but this is another somewhat intentionally covered up piece of human reality. Hans Worshing was the director of the Philadelphia Boys club, as it was called back in 1967, when I met the man. I had lived just a block away for eighteen months, at 2041 Chestnut Street and did not know he was there. Only after my mom tried to secure a ‘big brother’ for me, and I was given the first of two dudes, Mister Fred Hinger, the head drummer of the then Philly Philharmonic. They had a nice home in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and he and another pal of his who was a couple years older than me, were being taught how to drum on drum pads. This dude’s name was Dominick. He was a very cool dude, as was sir Hans Worshing of the Boys Club. Most of you who know a little bit about my two big brothers from this organization, know mostly about the second dude, Mister Colorado hailed from, John Henningsen, of the Campbell’s Soup Company, Camden, New Jersey Office. This was a cover, as he was a major ESS traveler with the CIA. I know that now and did not have a clue back then. But then all the alphabet soup agencies are owned by the one absolute one, the ESS. Still, this is the kind of top secret Majestic level purple and nine Ron Wirtz shit that gets folks killed. But then, hay I am a dead man right now, who is going out like a balloon losing its air, so what do I have to lose? John took me to a secret building across from the City Line Philly studios, where numerous television broadcasters are headquartered. Right across to the east was the building John Henningsen took me too a few times with the magic one way mirror rooms. Later I realized Campbell’s Soup had no reason for interrogation rooms, and he has to be ESS, or you might go as far as say CIA or NSA, but as stated, these all fit nicely into the one and only owner/controller, the great powerful ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society). John as you know gave me the great magical chain, that a year later give or take, seemed to fascinate the Almighty gamer-owner being of this entire gamogram-simulation (cosmos), Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Also on the north side, across from City Line Avenue, in this Bala Cynwyd section of Philadelphia’s main line suburban area; is my doctor I went to before the great family sent me packing, in the middle of an icy cold gods-forsaken night, off to fucking ass Florida; five and a half dam ass years back into time now, YO! Oh boy oh oh boy, my mom comes to me in a powerful dream to warn me not to move in with these washcloths from hell, while still at Jenny Plageman’s trailer park, and then boom, clueless me is forever destroyed. Twenty years ago today, Clueless Poolroy gave me three wild books from the Washington Heights, New York Public Library. One of them shows a science laboratory where Windows are displayed on a computer, long before the windows-95 times ever came to be, as this was back around 1965. Someday this entire time and hyperspace is going to blow up in all of our faces, Mister Ron Wirtz, so ‘purple and 9’, to you too, YO!!!!

Not only are mirrors, and things that reflect major; Mister 1969 Sidney Mommyboyfriend Cohencrown Jewshame; but the real truths go so far beyond any of this, that it would all rank right up there in the purple and nine area of Ron Prosecutor ADA Wirtz of December 5, 1989, the day we met and the day after I turned age 35 years, as Mark Wayne Mohr and his crummy scummy miserable life. Holy WOW, KALI CLAN. Time for this poor old bastard to go and wash up! Hey I’m all washed up anyway, right folks? What did I tell you guys back in the summer of 1997, John and Photeous, on 10-SC Avenue, on your parking lot that day, next to WAYV’s Paula King lot???????????????? And think about this one: I did not consciously know or remember a thing about all of this now existing Morianity! But I have indeed cycled around for 200 times give or take, David Speas and Mister Corsakolf McCoy!!!

CALLIO’S—A&R–ASTRAL–FLOWER

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.

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▼ 2015 (463)
▼ August (28)
CHAPTER 29, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 28-B, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
HELP ME SHERIFF KENNETH MASCAR, PLEASE KIND SIR
CHAPTER 27, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 26, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 25, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 24, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 21-22-23/A-B-C, PART TWO, HELL IS FIXED IN…
CHAPTER 21-22-23/A-B-C, PART ONE, HELL IS FIXED IN…
CHAPTER 21, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 20, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 19, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 18, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 17, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 16, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 15-B, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 14, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 13, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 12, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER ELEVEN, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 10, SUPER HACKING, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE …
CHAPTER 9, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 8, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
CHAPTER 7, HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE, CHAPTER 6
HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE, CHAPTER 5
HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE, CHAPTER 4
HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE, CHAPTER 3
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About Me

mark wayne mohr
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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I SAID PAULA KING AND SARAH CALLIO ARE WORTHLESS FUCKING NO GOOD BUMS, AND I HAVE A CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT TO SAY THAT, KIND SHERIFF SIR. THIS IS HOW THIS ALL BEGAN TONIGHT, SIR, WHEN I TRIED TO MAKE THAT COMMENT. IT SEEMS I AM HAVING MORE PROBLEM SPEAKING TONIGHT THAN THAT PERVERT WHO MOLESTED ME IN 1970, MISTER TTTTTTTOMMM RRRREALE!!!






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