HIFISAF,
CHAPTER
117-AMP
©
1995-2015 MARK WAYNE MOHR (BOM)
Things are happening
around me and I cannot trust very much, not if I want to be at all
safe, and survive long term. Decades ago, a strange thing happened. I
realized that things would happen whereby it seemed I needed to do
something, and that the forces of hell were literally preventing me
from doing that something. My very most recent item most of you know
or should know, was my remake song from 1983, redone and title
changed to “You'll Be Crossing Over”. This entire thing was a
plan to try and expose my Atlantic city enemies for what they have
all done to me no matter how many doubters and naysayers screamed at
me I am crazy to even attempt such an undertaking. Also, I knew and
still do know, that if I could have accomplished what I had really
wanted, and I did not, not by any means; I might have not gone
through that medical nightmare for nearly a year now, and maybe even
have been able to get to the bottom of how it all started with me at
half past ten on the night of four June, back in 1983. Before I go on
with any of this, allow me to tell you that I had not planned this
blog at all. I was going to take this Sunday off completely and as
they say at Progressive Insurance, and all over I would suppose,
“give it a rest”. I just got hacked and frozen, FCC, in case you
could care less, and you too Sheriff Kenneth J.
Mascara, at twenty minutes before ten on this 27 September,
2015, and late Sunday evening. I am under a major death attack and
major death siege, Pam Bondi, Florida State
Attorney General!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HEY
Bob McGuire, and Sarah C. Martino; why not jump off of this nice DAM
water tower, STRAIGHT To your miserable ROTTEN STINKING demises!!!!
First
off, James had his Sunday get together in the 'STORAGE-APARTMENT'
across from me. When I went out to confirm where I was hearing sound
from, it was from them, and not anywhere else except for the opposite
end of this sixth floor, or what I call the east wing of the place,
as it is half of the apartments from the central elevator that are on
the east side, verses my west side. Also, major airplanes are
zenithing the building, like I am living on a mother fucking aircraft
carrier, Sheriff and AG! Inside with headphones and earplugs and fans
running, it would practically take a nuke bomb going off to hear it,
but I went out to see if I could view the Super-Moon from the
elevator area out of the south-side windows, and it was all hazed
over and screwed up. And you wanna; fuckiGN know something, Sheriff
and AG; I already knew this was going to be the case if I bothered
throwing on shoes and a pair of pants and went to check on it. All I
got was a lot of mother fuckiGN death persecution, YO!
Hey
you two; somebody is really sending me a black-cloud life, by way of
invisible cosmic beams. Only if you could de-cloak the Milituforce
stealth weapons, in some magical way, then the photo below may just
quite accurately depict my endless hellish situation.
Map
is courtesy of The
Weather Bug
(TWB).
No
weather reports however are required for me to know this little
simple thing. Sunny bright days have never been any kind of a mother
fucking reality in the life of Mountainpen. This has gone on for 61
years!
CLICK
ON THE LINK BELOW, PLEASE, TO SEE:
No,
not three magical leprechauns, me' ol' maitees.
AFTER
I SAID HOW SICK I WAS, BACK LAST 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;
notice Sheriff Mascara sir, please; how the Milituforce gave me a
really horrific week. In other words kind sir; this should prove to
you, THAT I AM INDEED DEALING WITH MONSTERS WHO ARE INDEED TRYING TO
COVERLTY CLEVERLY MURDER ME. Now sir, whether you wish to believe any
of this, deep down in your own mind, or not; just as the other Law
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.
This officer was about six feet eight inches tall, if I had to
venture a dam guess; kind sir! Still, all of this should prove to
you, like it or not, kind sir; that I am no crackpot, when I claim
these 'wonderful
lovely people',
are playing for keeps with me, and have been, ever since 08/15/1986.
This whole entire mess is nothing less than 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. Thank you!
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!!!
BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT;
how does Cooley Hall
fit into the other two major areas of my major traveling nocturnal
interactions of Atlantic City, and Camden, up there in good old New
Jersey, USA??? Goddess dam it folks, I really am so happy you asked
me this, BRO!
Dreams
are exactly
what all people
with
real strong thought habits,
always
wondered and dreamed about.
They
are as close to mirrors, smoke, and magic; as you, me, or any
prestidigitator is ever going to get,
in this human waking life; I promise!!!! When anyone has recurring
dreams about people or places or objects, or for that matter,
'whatever' it might be, Congressman sir, and old pal; there is a lot
more to these things than there would have been, if
those dreams had not happened.
Now it is not the particular thing that is magical, mind you folks;
but it is the interaction between you and the thing, whatever that
is. We all know, or those who vividly remember our dreams anyway;
that we may spend a lot of our time, years even, at places and with
people, and NEVER
EVER HAVE ONE SINGLE REMEMBERED DREAM ABOUT THOSE THINGS.
On the other hand, we
may not even know a person,
and we may have a lot of dreams about them,
and for absolutely no logical reason. Same thing goes for places,
objects, and again, kind congressman and old 1975 pal, ''whatever''!
All I am going to tell for right now, is that I am leading you into
an introduction of Cooley Hall as well as the RPL Sound Studio, and
Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic city, up near the boardwalk. There is an
energy force that triangulates these three points or locations, and
inside of this force, is not something like the Bermuda Triangle, but
rather a sort of mind energy that is only active at certain rare
points in time, and also, to the person who has the recurring dream
about the three points that make up this triangulation. A huge hack
just struck while I was typing this. I must get my guru over here to
show me several things anyway, and one of these things is exactly
where to disconnect my computer from the internet while I write my
blogs, so I don't have to contend with this abusive civil rights
violation hacking that is unrelenting for a solid fuckiGN cunt decade
for this poor blogger, and especially when I begin to open major
doors that THEY don't want me opening up for any of
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Another
powerful part in all of this, is that all of thought, in the human
brain; and never say this to a psychiatrist or you'll be taken
straight off to the psych ward; but this is merely an interaction
with two things. What we think of as 'physical
us' while we dream in hyperspace,
including our wakeful dream part where we carry around a physical
body and physical brain, as well as something up in the
seventh-dimension,
that Morianity has called Lawtronics
since my blogs began in 2006; makes a connection. Believe me people,
I will go on with this as the week ahead moves along. The only way
I'll shut up is if these mother fuckiGN jerk off bastard scum balls
back off their shit with me, and they are on a mother fuckiGN major
roll to kick my honky ass to hell and back, Cuban-cubed!!!!
Diana;
after your tennis game in Olympia Proper is over, I am taking you to
lovely waterfalls, my awesome baby-blond. But in-between, I am sure
you know, I cannot put off another bombing mission any longer. The
enemies are just striking me way too mother fuckiGN hard,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
may be moving my blog to a totally different location soon.
This is a complex situation that has to do with some powerful stuff,
that the mighty exploratron Patty-Paula King also informed me about.
You all know, and the great goddess only knows how many AKA names and
identities that she also has, along with AT&T and NSA, at least
according to Mister ES in Russia now. Remember how I told about the
other night, out in the parallel universe, at Uncle
Stuart and Aunt Gerry's Narberth, PA-USA home, Exploratron
PPK
was telling me details, about cosmic polarity, and expansion forces.
Now the blogs won't be removed from any existing sites; but you may
have to change your faves-links, or whatever it is you all do, in
order to read my new posts; and this may all happen before Halloween
Day, no puns intended; merely a fact in time. Still, only
she knows why
I was totally robotically, and exploratronically controlled, to send
those three projects, to the United States Office of Copyrights,
on that same October 31 day, in 1994 with the book, and then the
musical projects, the first two of three in the twenty-first century,
2005, and 2007. And I know, she knows, all pirates and buccaneers
notwithstanding.
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AUDIENCE
END
TRANSMISSION.
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