CHAPTER
114-B---HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE
JUST
YOU AND ME; MY BABY-BLOND TQ!
I
LOVE 'TWB', BUT I AM UNSURE IF THIS
FEELING
IS MUTUAL.
PHOTOS
ARE COURTESY OF TWB.
MOUNTAINPEN,
AG-PAM BONDI, & SHERIFF MASCARA
IT'S
GONNA' BE ALL RIGHT IN THE MORNING LIGHT? SOMEHOW I DO NOT THINK SO,
GAP DONNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BE
GENTLE; BIG POWERFUL SARAH; YO GIRL!
BE
GENTLE; BIG POWERFUL SARAH; YO GIRL!
CLICK
BELOW TO SEE:
“FALL
AND A FROG”,
AS POSTED BY A TWB POSTER. You can always click right on these
photos, to be taken right to the photo section of the great and
powerful, marvelous and awesome, TWB.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
|
|||||||||||||
Take
a flying leap off of it; Bob McGuire, and Sarah Martino.
Jane
fucking whore Fonda is on a super dam fucking roll again, evil cold
cruel dam ass world, with her fuckiGN ONES-ASSAULT on poor little
cunt chewing pathetic me, YO!!!! I must now cunt phlegm rape,
(compensate).
Here
is a side view, of me, and my big mother fucking Jackie Gleason God
dam mouth; folks!
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
And
here are my FIVE'S counterstrike on slutty ass Jane, for what that
dam bitch did to me that night at the Atlanta, Georgia baseball park;
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
I
need some mother fucking peace of mind after one of the worst cunt
huffing rotten fuckiGN weeks of my entire nearly 61 years of life as
Mountainpen. I think I'll travel to here!!!
Holy
Toledo, Daddyborn Call Ten CALLIO!!!!
Hey-YO,
I just got struck with the WORD-DISAPPEARING-HACK, Bob FCC
ES-Director McDowell, old school chum, from the GAP Wormhole Cooley
Foolio Callio Hell Hall, huh lovely Sarah Jacobson-72???????? It is
on a roll now for the 'WD'-HACK, FCC, YO!!!!!!!!
I
feel like telling something huge that this Cooley Hall place is not
all that far removed from it all, since these mother fucking jerk off
scum bags have given me such a monster-horrendous dick licking week,
and AFTER I SAID HOW SICK I WAS BACK LAST 'FUCKIGN' FRIDAY, and
nearly died up in Vero Beach, according to the
'nut-job place' there that I go to; in order to get a tiny tiny tiny
little bit of my necessary anti-anxiety medications. In other
words Sheriff Mascara sir, this should prove to you, whether you wish
to believe it deep down or not; and just as the other officer up in
Jersey, and back in 1994, preferred denying reality, that led to my
blogs, and Morianity, labeling this syndrome, as
the ''GWPOS'',
for the Giant Williamstown
Police Officer
Syndrome, as this officer was about six
feet eight inches tall, if I had to venture a dam guess, kind sir,
YO; but this should prove to you, like it or not, kind sir; that
these mother fuckiGN MILITUFORCE JAG OFF DIRT
HOLES are playing for keeps with me, and have been since
08/15/1986, and not 80-HACK-ATTACK; but yes, that this is nothing
less kind sir, than fuckiGN cunt eating ATTEMPTED
MURDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I am going to tell something huger
than shit very soon, over this weekend; so please be out here an
dreading me, kind Sheriff, and kind AG-Bondi. TANKS----BOOM!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR BLOG NOW ENDS.
'HIFISAF'---AMP---1995-2015
©
HELL
IS
FIXED
IN
STONE
AND
FIRE
CHAPTER
113
My
life is beyond mother fucking hell; Doctor Skota, great drummers from
Hal Blaine and your young protege, fowl summer camp soapy mouth
language, and all of this and more, notwithstanding. Today is beyond
a mother fucking super botbar day, also, my BRO! All fucking prisons
and light-house lock-ups, notwithstanding here, my
bratha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What
will be talked about here is not new but the way I am going to go
about telling this in a lot of details, just might be. As always,
you don't have to like it. You don't have to read it!
First
off, I am forever done and through with jerk
off Mike Patterson.
With friends like him, I do not need the Milituforce. Still, I expect
others all around me to treat me like mother fucking turd bird trash,
and this is what is all going to be cunt lapping examined with real
scrutiny, here on this god dam fucking blog right now! You see before
I even start; most people who are in real shitty life situations,
deserve to be; and this is what totally mother fuckiGN pisses me off,
because folks; I do not have one single problem with that. My seventh
grade algebra teacher, back at Haddon Township High School, in
Westmont, New Jersey, Mister Smolsky; wrote in my year book, “Mark,
life is a mathematical formula. You get back in return, what you put
in”.
He is absolutely half right. This is totally and absolutely true for
many people. However, a few are not connected into this cosmic
formula the way most of us are. It is like simple fucking
electricity. You can wire up a home for all sorts of great potential
electrical service, with three breaker boxes of each one supplying
100 or even 200 amp service to the home. Just ask the Kim
Kartrashians of the world if this is not true, BUTTTTTTTTTTT; that
does not mean that you can draw on any of it, if you have not taken
some electronic device with a receptical-plug, and actually inserted
it into a wall outlet. There is not an exact way, that this otherwise
seemingly perfect formula, will apply to all people living on this
Earth, in the same way. Unlike the example with a home with
electrical service, I have no way of explaining why some of us gain
access to this normally operating formula, and some others just
simply put, do not. I have offered my ideas on my ten years of these
blogs, you know, the Peeforey (P4E) gang, the wildest covert club
imaginable that is AKA the ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society), and
other items also. Then without any help from me, and before I was
even born; others have had a literal slew of their own similar ideas,
both scientifically based as well as religiously based, in fact, even
philosophically based. Let's go deeper, shall we?
For
a very long time, at least since about the beginning of the
nineteen-seventies, I totally knew that there was something wrong all
around me, and that things that worked one way with other folks,
simply put, just don't work in that same way with me, most or some of
the time anyway, and with some things, even all the time. But then a
line in this strange fucking sand crossed again after the early
seventies began, and this time, I'm quite able to be way more exact
and specific about the timeline in this new fucking cosmic sand pile
from hell. You all know it too or you should, if you have read enough
of my blogs. It is the date of 80/15/1986. Suddenly for more than
twenty-nine mother fucking years now, there is something
around me, invisible as atoms and germs, and every bit as dangerous
as the Black
Plague
or a thermo-nuke
H-bomb
could ever be. All three of these things, whatever any of them truly
are in this cosmos; have the total and absolute power, to wipe out a
human life, in an eye blink; and one of these three did this to my
life. It was something,
and I do not claim to absolutely know just what this is, any more
than any of you out there. Can this thing be laboratory tested you
may wonder? The answer so far, in 29 years, with me, remains an
insisted two-part answer. It sure could (yes),
if the very force of this some-thing, would ever permit me to do it,
and I have tried my heart out; and you all can believe me or not, as
God fucking knows this is the truth, (no).
So how can any answer be a two-part conflicting answer, you may
wonder? Me too, but 29 years has shown me beyond any doubt, that it
is, whether or not I believe it, or like it, or for that matter;
whether any of you out there do either.
I
have some new dirt bag nabes from hell. I will find out more tomorrow
from my Resident Manager, Mizz Marotto; and you can bet on that.
Well, I am glad that I wrote that last night, and did not make that
bet later on. What I will tell you now will be just another
continuing mother fucking saga of pathetic and pitiful songwriter
Mark Mud Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, from 1983 as well as late into 2015.
I went down to Debbie Marotto's Office and as I got there, she was
coming out, and I had chosen the best possible time to speak to her,
after lunch and before she begins the bingo-games held in the
building on Friday afternoons. But she is way too busy to want to
bother with stinky annoying me. Her words to me, I have no time now,
and I got your e-mail and haven't yet been able to check on it for
you. This is close to a quote, and more than a paraphrase. So I come
back upstairs to my fucking dirt bag apartment and decided to prove
my point, and call Mikey who lately has no time for me either, yet
never tells me to stop calling. But this time, we ended the
friendship. I totally and fully fucking cunt believe, that he has
held a grudge ever since the deal when I told Jasper up at the
Harvest place, back a few years ago. Remember this anyone? Jasper
goes running to him, and they conspire behind my back and both agree
that I am the fuckiGN jerk off, when I was trying to tell Jasper that
Mike was spreading a lot of really nasty rumors about his criminal
behavior. No matter what I ever do, be in in fucking cunt eating 1977
with Frank Lombardo regarding warning him that my father would rip
him off if he was not careful and prudent with him; and it never ever
stops. I can do no right, and never could, as far as anyone of this
mother fuckiGN worthless Christless planet is ever concerned. So
go fuckiGN cunt screw yourselves, ALL OF YOU!!!!!
All
of you mother fuckiGN jerk offs out here, who hate me without cause
or provocation, and never see anything good in me, and only see bad
shit; you
can go jump right into a sharks fucking hungry cock sucking jaws, at
the speed of light squared,
or I'd gladly fuckiGN cunt settle for you all just jumping right off
a big ass cliff like this one, YO!!!!!!!!!! I wouldn't lose a wink of
shut-eye.
My
wonderful Lightning Goddess Diana did not let me down, and already
knew I was about to have another worst-time-in-Florida day today,
back late last night. She brought her lovely lightning all around me
and all over me, dazzling me with her awesome colors and beyond
beautiful displays of luscious fractal designs!!!!!!!! This is why I
love taking her to places that she loves so much, such as great
forests and tall waterfalls. I can trance out at night, and be with
her, and the fuckiGN cunt hell with this horrible shitty fuckiGN
world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HO-HO-HO-HO
SARAH LIGHTHOUSE LOCKUP CALLIO CALL-TEN, AND SANTA CLAUS!!!!!!!!
Now
my daughter; she loves butterflies. But then, most people who love
beautiful things of nature, would go kind of wild when they see a
whole slew of Monarch Butterflies. Am I wrong, folks?
No
pirate jokes from Gloucester City,
please. In return, I won't yell out, “Shark, shark, shark” oh
wonderful 1968 Aunt Ruth of 175 Peninsula Drive, up in the north
country. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!
I
hate most things on this planet, but I
do love me' ol' flowers, maitees. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! Well kind
Sheriff Mascara, maybe, as I can only hope you are sir; to quote my
wonderful late mommy,
YO;
“OH
BOY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes sir Sheriff sir, I
do love me' ol' flowers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I was in the kitchen of a local celebrity; back in the summer time,
in the year of 1998; a powerful and outlandishly surreal occurrence
was cosmically destined to greet the two of us. I witnessed this
event, as did Mizz Starr, but only I knew what was happening. Certain
things just cannot be told. I learned long ago even back then, it
doesn't work. In real life or anything close to resembling real life,
even if ghosts real real and commonly appearing all around us, the
great show, “Ghost Whisperer”, would be totally asinine and
absurd, for one huge reason. Every single show depicts those who
doubt her at first, and then they come around, due to some proof,
after she says something that only the ghost could know about, and so
forth. In reality, no matter how much proof you try to show people,
they won't come around! It would be maybe one out of 100, so maybe in
the entire show, two or three people might; over years and years.
This would make the show suck, so the parameters of reality, as with
any fictional shows, are totally done away with, or at least,
incredibly widened. But allow me to get back to how this example with
the hit TV-show, 'GW'; fits into this.
I'll
try real hard not to get all flowery about it!
I
promise you, kind folks!
So
I am in her kitchen, and we were discussing her fantastic original
idea, of turning the two weather systems that we all hear about on
TWC and the news all the time, that mean after they are translated
out of old world Latin, Little boy and Little Girl; into large dolls,
and have a setting for them that is weather related, clothes,
dollhouse, etcetera, it really was a fantastic idea, and I am living
witness that as of July of 1998, she had this original concept, and
told me about it, right there in her Atco, New Jersey home. One thing
led to another and all within an hours time at the most, and she was
calling some hot shot friends of hers, or trying to, that knew top
executives in the toy company bizz, such as Mattel, and you name
them. But in this attempt to reach people; the most wild cosmic
attack struck this woman, and no one would believe this ever took
place unless they had sat there and been a witness to this afternoon
in July back then, in living vivid peacock NBC color and
detail!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her exact quoted words to me after
she finally stopped trying to do anything, was; Mark, is it me,
what's happening”? I just looked at her, fully aware of the cosmic
attack and fully aware that she would not even want MY EXPLANATION
for it; and I replied simply with, “I saw and heard exactly what
you did Sally, it sure wasn't you”. I will remember saying that
back to her if I am cursed to live as Mark Wayne Mohr and celebrate a
two hundredth birthday. Some things, no rational fuckiGN mind can
ever forget, IPYT one, kind folks!!!!
But
just why did I write this story now, and just how does it fit into
not only my day today, but basically, my entire time since around
early in 2012, here in Florida, in this PHA nightmare life I am stuck
in, and this dampening field of dark energy that is all totally
endlessly mother fucking surrounding me,
24-7-365.2422????????????????????????????
In
all mother fuckiGN honesty and truth, ladies and gentlemen; it
is as if some powerful fuckiGN god out there in cosmos;
is beaming
me a cloud of negative energy,
that is sucking my life right out of me; body, mind, spirit, and
Robert
Andrews
Whatever,
RAW!!!!
Oh
boy oh boy oh boy, Mom and Mashell Daniels!!!!
Above
you will find yours truly, and on my right side is the lovely and
awesome Attorney General of Florida, Mizz Pam Bondi, beyond red
hot!!!!!! On my left side, is the great and powerful non-OZ-wizard,
Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, of Saint Lucie County, here in Florida,
USA. So WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PLEASE
TELL THAT WICKED WITCH SARAH, TO RELEASE ME FROM ALL OF LIFE'S
LIGHTHOUSE PRISONS, KIND SHERIFF SIR!
JUNE
24, 2014
70%
of my followers vanished, poof, Sir Harry Potter, way more magically
than any fictional material ever could be!
BUT
TIME KEEPS ON SLIPPIN'-SLIPPIN'-SLIPPIN', WITH THE EAGLE BIRDS. But
positrons are going in the opposite ticking direction.
|
SEPTEMBER
25, 2015,
FRIDAY
AFTERNOON AT 3:04,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 86 DEGREES FNHT.
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 72%, FEELING LIKE 96.
RANGE
TODAY-----(H-87/L-72).
A
STEADY E WIND IS AT 11.
Since
I observed in 1982 that I do not ever seem to die and stay dead,
after dying from a fatal situation, and appear to wake up and it all
was a dream, just too many times to all be some weird and outlandish
coincidence; this is why after a dozen years from my last being
poisoned, my health was getting pretty good. Then came a lifetime of
abuse 'catching up with me' in this cycle, and it is doubtful that I
will be here much longer at the age I am, and instead, I will go to
sleep one night, you in this future here will see no more blogs and
the world will say I am dead. But I, as has happened more than two
hundred times now, will find myself waking up from where this entire
adult life was a crazy nightmare, and will find myself back in
Mildred's Young class at school. Each time that this happens, I
convince myself this life was not a dream, I really had been a grown
up man and lived an entire life, but as all dreams fade fast as far
as detail and consequence, into the submission of shadowy fantasy,
where common sense tells me, no way, it was just a dream, and before
too long of a time passes, I am reintegrated with my life as an
adolescent with my memories before that in perfect tact as well. The
dream part only resurfaces after meeting the music genius, Mister
Pedersen, during my midlife crises while trying to find the
mysterious Sarah from my past. I never go back far enough to where I
can undo and redo the error of not becoming friends with her.
Suddenly I will just be trapped, all over again, in the next cycle of
roughly 40-50 years, that has played out somewhere around 210 times
now, and began in the first place, because of a strange invention,
and two strange guests of the ESS, James Burr and Zvonko. Sarah likes
to play her fave game every time Pearl Harbor Day rolls around in
1996; another typo, so often on blogs I say Pearl Harbor day in 1997,
but this is an error and an obvious mind or machine hack, either way,
a (PBHE). When she talks about my guessing these names of guests, she
doesn't really mean Mary Moore out on that hotel balcony that day
years ago in that lovely green dress of hers. She means the
exploratron travelers who are interfering with my life. As this blog
continues along, not only will more stuff about the HOW TO with all
of this exploratronic shit be talked about; but also, the details of
the game she wants me to play, who knows, maybe to even help me
breakout of this hell-cycle I have been in for more than 8000 years,
and that is just this lifetime. Cycles are merely our own energies at
will, deciding to relive the experience in lieu of dreaming the next
sequence of dreams only the joke is that all dreams are being dreamed
in both time and parallel hyperspace realities, and being stuck in
any one dream-set, or lifetime, is merely someone with a tape
recorder and a room full of cassette tapes, or to move this up to the
digital age, someone with a CD player or computer flash drive player
system and thousands of tunes on this thing all digitally patterned
to perfection and waiting to be listened to, only the owner of the
device decides to fixate on one tune, and play it over and over,
until eventually, he or she does indeed, move on and play the other
tunes. Something in this life is so powerful that until I get
something right about it, I will be stuck endlessly in this dream set
cycle or lifetime, playing the endless repeat feature and hearing
this endless tune. The only hope of escape, in my opinion right now;
lies in this wild game that SSJK wants me to play with her, as she so
told me, back on December 7, 1996. Who knows, maybe each time around
has small differences. It would seem hard to fathom this,because it
is just me refocusing my mind-energies on the life of dreams that I
just had, and as I lay dying and ill in my bed, with my abilities, I
can go back into myself at a younger age, and would wake up when the
body is recharged and rested, only this time, the body is worn out
and dies, leaving me again, to be 17 and start over from here, just
as I've been doing, and of course no one believes me, so screw them.
Why would anyone in this world make up such a wild story and claim it
to be real, when they could publish all this great shit as fiction,
and eventually some publisher would make me rich. But as stated
earlier,this is not about monety, not for me. This is about my
eternity with the great Sarah Krassle, and even beyond that, never
giving up my desire and burning yearning for reaching total nirvana,
absolute non existence, a total impossibility for anyone who is an
existor, but I still think about it day and night forever and
forever. You either exist or you don't exist, and time is only real
down in the multiverse. It is not that it is not important to have
time in higher dimensional reality, but simply put, time exists as
part of ''SPACE-TIME-MIND'', and above the multiverse, there simply
is no time, and no space; just mind. Beyond that, Mind all
commingled together exists as zero-dimensional void infinity. At this
state, even MIND would be as hard to fathom and contemplate, as
space-time is, where only mind exists, and can create the space and
the time at will, merging it with mind, to create dreaming
interactions. But I promised to get a bit into the more down to Earth
step by step instructions for mastering the exploratronic realities,
and so I will indeed move this along with a few new lines for anyone
who so wishes to cogitate on any of this; can do so.
Morianity
has caused serious disruptions in the entire cosmos, fifth
dimensionally; that I would not begin to address on this blog of
today, and if none of the Milituforce attacks on me, beginning in
August of 1986, and really, since three years earlier, but in a
lesser intense way, had been done to me; there would be no MORIANITY.
This is the real time paradox that I used to call an
evental-time-warp, back in 1987, and would discuss this with my
friend, David Charles Roth, quite frequently. Neither one of us had
answers, but as time went along,our theories and our ideas became a
collection of concepts that the SYFY CHANNEL would have paid millions
of dollars to get their hands on it all if it ever had been reduced
into one book that contained all of this. Well let me get to the next
part of the lesson about the 3 types of exploratrons, also known as
dreamers, and move into why the advanced type or the T3E, can do
quite a bit more than just come awake and aware and even dominate
without being discovered as a controller, over their doubles in other
parallel realities in hyperspace, also called in the German
translation used quite frequently in accepted scientific circles,
their doppelgangers. Now let us say that you are standing at a
roulette wheel and are betting on BLACK or RED bets, trying to
winsome money in a casino, as was with the case with me so often, in
Atlantic City, New Jersey, through many a year. I would come to
observe that I could lose, not counting the green number edge that
the house (casino) has legally, but just with the otherwise 50-50
chance of betting on the two colors, with regularity, between 8 and
15 of these basically 50-50 chance bets. It is very hard to win or
lose between 8-15 times in a row, something that has a 50-50 chance.
Yet over and over, I would begin to log and record that year in and
year out, I would get these major losing streaks of between 8-15
straight losses. I would also record how many times I would have a
winning streak of anywhere between 8-15 winning bets, not including
when a player loses on the green roulette numbers of 0 or 00. Every
year for literally two decades, (20 years), I would get 2 or 3
winning streaks, but I would get an average with these years totaled
to make an average, of 36 losing streaks. Folks, this is a 12:1 ratio
of losing streaks to winning streaks, over a twenty year period,
averaged out annually. Twelve to one, and NOT COUNTING the green
house vig or edge, just the 50-50 chance bets themselves. Now here is
why the world governments are scared of all of my Morianity and me
and the forces around me to the point that they would do anything to
covertly make me vanish, but they don't dare, assassinate me, not yet
or so far, anyway my good people. Once a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON (T3E)
becomes quite proficient at dominating their doppelgangers in
localized hyperspace; they then always use these doubles as starting
points to travel to these other parallel realms, and then they
MOVE-OFF-TARGET, (MOT). When they MOT, this means they begin to dream
with full awareness through a double of themselves, intentionally at
will in a parallel universe they have chosen to be in; and then they
wish to take their energy or dreaming essence or spirit essence;
words are so meaningless yet people have died over words so I try not
to say that too often; but now we have T3E who have traveled to
target, as they first must do, and then second, they MOT. The third
thing they do is ERNM, or Energetic Reattachment to New Matter. This
can be anything they see around them, or even, literally, and no pun
intended; ''DREAMED UP''. They can create in their mind a bunch of
little grays and a flying saucer. They can locate an empty field
where no one is around at pure thought-will, and do things such as
this, or literally anything. Now if these dreamers or T3E are from
another parallel world to ours, and have chosen this universe to come
and do this in, then it is us who will be effected. We all are awake
and have a mass existence, and need to expend our energies, moving
our massive bodies around; and all manner of other things that waking
world folks need to do. They on the other hand are pure energy or
dream-essence, and can think and will things into happening. They can
create totally weightless bodies that no weapon can injure, they can
fly like superman, and the list is as long as their imaginations. Is
this how I have managed to fly around here, from first going into a
localized parallel universe and creating a weightless spirit-body? If
you think long and hard about all of this, you should realize that
this is not possible. We can do many things as advanced
dream-travelers, due to the way hyperspace works, but defying those
regulations that make it all possible and cause it all to function as
it does, is against lawtronics, a dangerous thing to even attempt
doing, because it has the dire consequences to Astral Plane entities,
of turning parts of them into Phase-4-Entities, not born like normal
P3E are, but literally coming alive inside of the imaginations and
day-dreams and ideas and creations, of those already physically here
in bodies, awake and alive, so to speak, physically on this tangible
material plane of existence. When I move diner rotisseries or think
forward in water and move forward, this is not some dream body, it is
me, and if someone shot me, I would bleed nice and red for all the
sharks of the sea to come and grab a bite or two or three. Then there
are the human sharks as well, so please folks; don't even get me
started with those yesterday jerk offs, like Tracy Ullman, and Chris
501 Blues Blum, great folks; and whoever/whatever is really out here,
right SSJKK-ISIS? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT! Ih Jesus Christ Almighty,
YO,
no Stacey for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Only other Kennedy's, and nightmare
songs, that I would fucking sing to myself, every fucking rotten ass
time I had to drive past that cunt chewing fucking 'MOUNT
CONSTRUCTION COMPANY',
the gods; what a poor slob I am, earring Joan-95, split pants and
brake dance, and all of it. YUK. How to rob a bank without a gun,
give me a break. How much have the banks robbed all of fucking us for
the past half fucking century with their bullshit?????
MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2015.
THERE
IS NO WAY TOM REALE, IN JULY OF 1970, WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT UPSET,
THAT NIGHT OF THE FIREWORKS; IF HE WAS NOT ALL PART OF WHAT HAPPENED
THE YEAR BEFORE THAT, AND WAS NOT ALSO A MEMBER OF THE GREAT AND
FUCKING POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND
SOCIETY,
AKA, THE 'P4E'!!!!
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©
BLOGGER MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
Home
>New Jersey
>Voorhees
Apartments >Robin Hill Apartments
Robin Hill Apartments
'HIFISAF'---AMP---1995-2015
©
HELL
IS
FIXED
IN
STONE
AND
FIRE
CHAPTER
113
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James
Bond, and the inner child of humanity, wow; what a wild and ethereal
combination of split realities. Lots of my songs from the eighties,
or the lyrics to them; come to mind as I think about all of that,
peeps. Screen names, screens, old blogs; and me making phone calls to
Mister Gates and Mister Mets, huh United States Copyright Office?
Wow, was Donna Gaines Summer correct, when she said ''Daddy said stay
away''. You know I sent you her old shit, YO. I already lived up
here, and knew this entire mess; but I was blocking it. We
all block the bad shit we know via STM.
I am no different at all from any of you, other than for the simple
truth that I don't block the awareness of this all existing and being
a part of reality, not a psych delusion that is created out of a
mental fucking illness. Here is mental illness, Dave Roth, right up
there, right there on 295 highway, out to the fucking east on that
night in the early nineties, there's all the mental fucking illness
you can ever dare to handle, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Well, it
looks like you will be taking a lot of my money soon, United States
Copyright Office. I must stop thinking I am in any real world with
any real peeps who care one real little bit if I should live or die.
Just keep close tabs on me and never let me escape, wow, it is always
in the art, and I don't think it, I know it, and I hope you keep your
dam job in Washington for 100 mother fucking years, you go
lady!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
CHAPTER
112
HELL
IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE, (HIFISAF)
I
have some new dirt bag nabes from hell. I will find out more tomorrow
from my Resident Manager, Mizz Marotto; and you can bet on that.
I
really fucking feel like taking a dam flying
leap off of the most beautiful places on Earth, and flying
around; until Jenny Washburn goes totally
fucking nuts in the dam head, proving nothing still, of
course!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her words.
|
|
Hey,
you either like big red squares, or you don't. Nobody's going to go
to fucking jail over this!!!!!
Me;
I like ice cream and swimming in oceans and watching lightning storms
when they are so close I can feel the currents on my skin. Speaking
of lightning, she likes waterfalls, the taller the better. Of course
with me, I'm always telling her out in Plank (Purgatory), regarding
her super wild intense beyond surreal kisses, “the wetter, the
better”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So in other words, we all enjoy a wide
variety of many various dam things, lads and lassies,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tonight, I will be taking Lightning Goddess
Diana to some lovely Astral waterfall. Taking her there makes her get
really romantic. Don't even try going here!!!!!
Now
my daughter; she loves butterflies. But then, most people who love
beautiful things of nature, would go kind of wild when they see a
whole slew of Monarch Butterflies. Am I wrong, folks?
No
pirate jokes from Gloucester City,
please. In return, I won't yell out, “Shark, shark, shark” oh
wonderful 1968 Aunt Ruth of 175 Peninsula Drive, up in the north
country. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Now
folks; I do love flowers, and I have been with girls named Susan in
my life; but if they are as big and strong as Patty-Paula the great
one; may they never associate me with their wrath, in the form of any
Black Eyed Susan's!!!!!!!! Sheriff Mascara sir, the milituforce just
brought back their nasty mother fucking WORD-DISAPPEARING-HACK,
kind sir!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy, to quote my
wonderful late mommy,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Summer
days, autumn rays, and hold that freaking dam mayonnaise. Law &
Order needs to update their info concerning the great and powerful
Mayo Clinic. They wouldn't even talk to me when I was dying earlier
this year, because I wasn't rich and didn't have millionaire
insurance like fuckiGN Blue C/BS. WOW is this country a messed up
place to live in, great Pope, your Eminence and Holy Father
Sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
boy oh boy oh boy, Mom and Mashell D.
Above
you will find yours truly, and on my right side is the lovely and
awesome Attorney General of Florida, Mizz Pam Bondi, beyond red
hot!!!!!! On my left side, is the great and powerful non-OZ-wizard,
Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, of Saint Lucie County, here in Florida,
USA. So WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
great wonderful terrific marvelous Donna, when not involved in auto
crashes with me, or arguments about my wild theories and concepts of
transdimensional life, might tell me, ''Mark you buttwipe, it is
gonna' be all right, in the morning light''. Well Donna, I am not too
sure any more, about that one, but I am thinking along the lines of
Mister McNulty when he was a young lad in his middle teens, and his
somewhat famous saying that went,
“AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GEE
WILLIGARS AND CAT WHISKERS, Muffin and Toughy Ponti, from 1966. These
mother fuckers are persecuting me and violating my cunt chewing
fucking civil rights, SHERIFF, god dam it. They are constantly
fuckiGN with my computer illegally. They froze me all up again sir.
This is not mother fuckiGN fair. Why won't you god dam fuckiGN help
me, sir???
|
|
|
Audience |
PLEASE
TELL THAT WICKED WITCH SARAH TO RELEASE ME FROM ALL OF LIFE'S
LIGHTHOUSE PRISONS, SHERIFF SIR!!!!!!!!!!
Filthy
fuckiGN whore
Jane Fonda is back on another of her cunt huffing rolls
to really dick licking screw me up with ONES.
She struck me hard with another fuckiGN cunt page eleven of eleven,
and I'll need to compensate now with my god dam fives, YO BRAH!!!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
My
life is beyond mother fucking hell; Doctor Skota, great drummers from
Hal Blaine and your young protege, fowl summer camp soapy mouth
language, and all of this and more, notwithstanding.
The
jerk off nabes across from me seem to either be new, or just acting
up. It was them the other night that were partying late and not James
and his peeps as originally suspected. It is them slamming away, and
it is them making all sorts of power tool sounds and noises. I am a
super mother fuckiGN klutz out, just spilling half a glass of water
out in the kitchen a few minutes ago, and it is constant death
angels, klutz attacks, and noise, and bull fucking shit!
Since
I am under such monstrous surreal fucking supernatural outlandish
cunt chewing siege that is totally fucking cunt unrelenting; I am
going to tell something, as a retaliatory strike, that is dangerous
to say, and I need to remind anyone out here that this is not by any
means, an idea to use, nor is it my opinion to pursue any aggressive
or violent act against any laws of any land now or at any time, but
for informational purposes only, is it being written and this
knowledge being given. Well, you already read what I wrote. If you
want to read it again, it is no big deal to click the right margin of
my blog. It was Chapter 108. Like DUH and Hyundai fucking
automobiles, YO BRO!!!!
'HIFISAF'---AMP---1995-2015
©
HELL
IS
FIXED
IN
STONE
AND
FIRE
CHAPTER
112
I
WILL TAKE YOU TO ENDLESS WATERFALLS, DIANA!
©
BLOGGER MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
Home
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Robin Hill Apartments
THURSDAY
NIGHT AT 10:10,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 79 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 88%, FEELING LIKE 85 DEGREES.
WIND
IS ENE AT 3, WITH GUSTS TO 9.
RANGE
TODAY-----(H-83/L-73).
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW,
AND WO, BILLY HARNER!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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