THE
BUM CLASSIFICATION
CHAPTER
00002
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION.
Last
night, I had ZERO REMEMBERED INTERACTIONS AND ZERO REMEMBERED
NIGHTMARES. It seems when I do not remember ''the night in bed'',
things back here are quite different. I have been on a major roll for
powerful-dreaming, as you'd all call it, lately. But I caught a super
break last night, nada, zilch, noit, zip, and a big loaf of fresh
white Wonder Bread! Today, even following a huge bull move in the Dow
Jones stock market from yesterday, magnetics around me have changed.
Out of nowhere, shortly after the opening bell on Wall Street, Mikey
called. A few minutes later, the Maintenance people knocked, and a
repairman fixed my sink perfectly, 1-2-3. For weeks I could not get
anything on either of these things, then poof, Harry Potter must have
invisibly walked across my dam room!
On
top of that, I awoke feeling 100% better physically. Without lots of
super stress on me via illegal pummeling and death level persecution
24-7-365.2422, my health will always rebound and come back. I am a
natural biological regeneration machine.
Three
years ago, I was however, placed onto some kind of a system that I
don't claim to fully understand, but I now classify and label this as
the BUMS-HIT-LIST. This is when the owners of this world; those who
control our lives, and basically every move that we make, without our
even being privy to most of it; decide to take us off the
NORMAL-HUMANITY-LIST, and place us literally, on this thing that I
call, the BUMS-HIT-LIST. To quote, at least the first part of the
following sentence, from the mighty Captain Shatnerkirk, “someone
or something appears to alter the status of a person overnight, and
placing them in a bums classification”, hence the name of this
blog-book, currently being written.
BLACKEN
MY EYE, WILL YA SUANNE AT PCI IN 1973.
Sue
Ann, Suzanne, or Suzy Anna, it's all the same dam thing to me,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But she did have one really
far out last Italian name, if memory serves me correctly, huh Mizz
Hollister????????????????????????????????
  |
NO
SIR; H-A-C-K-E-D----INTERNET!!!!
Maybe
it's your browser, YO. And then again, maybe it's your knees;
Mark Wayne Mohr. Actually my lovely goddess Gina didn't say
''maybe''. She knew when we were playing
BABYSITTER that day at the hotel I used to work at in 1984 and into
early 195, The McIntosh Motor Inn of Mount Laurel, New Jersey, USA,
that it was my puny weak body giving out as she pushed against me,
and I went straight into the wall. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
KNOW THAT STUPID FUCKING BIPOLAR TV COMMERCIAL THAT SHOWS THAT
BUTTWIPE DUDE CRYING AND LAUGHING?
IN MY MOTHER FUCKING DAY, HAVING
NORMAL EMOTIONS WAS NOT SOME CRIME THE WAY IT IS TODAY.
NOW WE ARE ALL DEMANDED AND COMMANDED TO BE JUST LIKE MISTER
MOTHER FUCKING ASSHOLE SPOCK ON STAR TREK, AND
I AM HERE TO TELL YOU, IT AIN'T NATURAL,
AND IT IS CAUSING ALL OF THIS MOTHER FUCKING SHIT TO BE GOING
NUTS, ALL OVER THIS FUCKING SCREWED UP GLOBE, RIGHT
DOWN TO AMERICA'S GUN VIOLENCE SPREE OF THE PAST 20
YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
MARK
WAYNE MOHR
THE
PREDICTED HIGH TODAY IN FORT PIERCE FLORIDA, IS 85.
OCTOBER
23,2015,
THURSDAY
MORNING AT 10:38,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 81 DEGREES FNHT.
TEMPERATURE
RANGE TODAY------(H-81/L-72).
WIND
IS E AT 8, WITH GUSTING TO 27.
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 68%, FEELING LIKE 84.
The
Bum
Classification,
CHAPTER
00002
Hey
folks, if Satan would drop dead right this minute, like I told
gorgeous blond Amy to do at Cooley Hall, on the day that we first
met; my life would suddenly become an endless ray of sunshine heaven,
cubed!
CHAPTER
00002
THE
BUM CLASSIFICATION
©
BOM 2006-2015 MARK WAYNE MOHR
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
Calm
and serene. The antimatter reflective pictorial view, of the life of
Mountainpen.
If
only every single day could be like days that I have, maybe five
times a year, IF LUCKY!!!!!!! Boy oh boy oh boy Moomy Deaest and
Betty Davis Roaches; IF ONLY, or as Doctor James Garrigan of once
Cooley Hall and later resident of Hershey, Pennsylvania, USA-ESMWG
might say this back around 1970; “AS IF”!!!!!
In
1975, when Jim Burr rescued me from that horrible Halloween party and
those Satan worshiping nabes, ''the Kaufman's'' next door, who I
called them by; since they always did that Walt Disney trick, to let
you know they were there, by always coughing intentionally, when they
came anywhere close to where you would be, whether going out or
coming in. It is a psychological condition if you carefully analyze
and study with real scrutiny, the entire great book of mental
illness, the “DSM-5”. While Jim and I drove around Lindenwold,
and watched the ghost and goblin kids all dressed up out pirating for
some nice candy; my mom was working at her shipping company in
Philadelphia, with coworker Patricia Hurricane Hollister. Maybe Eddie
Himacane Lynch was a time traveler all along and no one bothered to
recover his repressed memories of it. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA,
Mister McNulty. Yes sir, while Jim and I were escaping Halloween
parties that were quite hellish, he had just left Gloucester, where
Patty and Merry and all other wonderful patched pirates, and
Jokester's, were hanging around, and securing their bags of sweets
and candies. Well, and why not. We all are a bunch of hanging in
there Huntington's. Don't believe me, people. Just ask WAYV that hot
summer day when we had that big ass forest fire in Blucranville, or
for that matter, call up the County clerk Records Division of
Braintree, Massachusetts, USA, and ask them about early February in
1947. Maybe it was 1948, who remembers everything for crying out
loud? Still, they';ll remember our one and only mother freaking
HUNTINGTON FAMILY, and THAT I do promise you all out here,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
great people; as they said on television when they used lovely beyond
white hot Brooke Shields to tease my Sarah song lyrics from 1996;
“JUST SHOOT ME”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just shoot this poor old
frikkin' horse 4-crissake, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And here I thought I was a poor old horse to be shot!
Drama queen am I; bite me Detective Green!
Folks;
how many of you have heard of the stairs of disaster? Right away
you're maybe thinking, “Christ, he's not going to talk about his
daughter as a toddler again in that house, and his dam stupid ass
repressed memories”? No I'm not, so go mix a strong scotch with a
big cut open lime, shake, and guzzle. After you're drunker than
asshole Robert McGuire of Atlantic City, New Jersey-USA; look below,
and see the
real stairs that lead to disaster!
HA-HA-HA-HA,
MIKE MCNULTY, YO!
OK,
OK, OK, OK, John King, and Paula King????
I
WAS SO SCARED THAT DAY IN MAY, WHEN YOU'RE FAVORITE GAME YOU'D
PLAY. AS YOUR 1-2-3, KEPT SIGNALLING ME THAT YOU'RE THERE. I DIDN'T
SEE JUST HOW, OR WHAT I HAD. AND INSTEAD I GOT SO MAD. I TOOK OUT THE
PHONE, AND WAS CUT OFF ALONE, AND I MADE MY BABY SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I AM SO SO SO SORRY, MY WONDERFUL LOVELY BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING.
WeatherBug Severe Weather Alerts
Weekend Weather Outlook
UPDATED By WeatherBug Meteorologist, Tim Barnes
UPDATED 12 AM EDT, May 2, 2015
There
was no technology like this back in 1983, YO!!!!
Showers,
thunderstorms, and scorching temperatures may not be the
picture perfect debut for early May, but it will be in keeping
with the dynamic spring weather as of late.
WeatherBug
Meteorologist Mace Michaels has the latest in his exclusive
WeatherBug
National Outlook.
Today:
A
tidal wave of heat rolling from the West to the Central U.S.
will be accompanied by a few spots of wet weather today.
A
developing low-pressure system sliding across the Canadian
Prairies will work together with the unseasonably warm
temperatures to initiate showers and thunderstorms from the
Mountain West to the Upper Midwest this afternoon through the
evening. A few stronger storms capable of producing hail and
high, damaging winds will be possible across the northern and
central Plains.
Further
eastward, moist air fresh off the Atlantic will trickle in
across the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic, creating a chance for a
few afternoon sprinkles.
Plenty
of sunshine will be left to the rest of the U.S., keeping
things dry and warm for Saturday.
Summer-like
highs in the 80s, 90s and 100s will have the mercury rising
across California, the Southwest, the Great Plains and the
Florida Peninsula, while the rest of the U.S. sits comfortably
under pleasant 60s and 70s. Milder 50s, along with cool 30s and
40s will be left to the higher elevations of the Mountain West.
Sunday:
The
developing low-pressure system over south-central Canada will
pick up the weather's reins Sunday; bringing another round of
wet weather to the Central U.S. as it shovels the oozing heat
eastward.
A
potent cold front associated with the storm system out of the
Canadian Prairies will aid in sparking up showers and
thunderstorms across the Rockies, the Rocky Front Range and the
Midwest Sunday afternoon and evening. Stronger storms capable
of producing hail, high, damaging winds and torrential
downpours will be possible from the Central Plains to the Upper
Mississippi Valley.
A
few showers will have the chance to bring a few wet
intermissions throughout the day for the Gulf Coast States and
the Northeast.
Milder
temperatures will ensue in the wake of the front. However as it
slowly slides eastward, it will surge warm and humid air ahead
itself, spreading the unseasonable warmth to the Eastern U.S.
just in time for the beginning of the new week.
While
the heat will begin to wan over the West, the Desert Southwest
and the Southern California Deserts will see temperatures
attempting to reach triple digits once again Sunday. Hot highs
in the 80s and lower-90s will remain over the Sacramento
Valley, while spreading from the southern and central Rocky
Front Range and the southern Upper Mississippi Valley to the
Southeast. The rest of the U.S. will finish up the weekend with
milder, spring 60s and 70s, while cooler 30s, 40s and 50s
remain over the higher elevations of the Mountain West.
Know
Before(tm) and stay informed! Download
WeatherBug for your mobile device and desktop computer for
real-time observations, forecasts for 2.6 million cities, and
the most advanced warnings to severe weather. Follow us on
Twitter
and Like
Us on Facebook.
What
do you think of this story?
Click here for comments or suggestions.
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I
HAPPEN TO JUST LOVE THE GREAT TWB. THANK YOU FOR THE COUNTY
RIP TIDE ALERT. MY BEACH DAYS ARE OF COURSE LONG OVER, AND I AM IN
HERE SLOWLY DYING, BEING CHOCKED TO DEATH BY SLOW TORTURE, BY THE
EVIL WICKED UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. I WANT THE ENTIRE WORLD TO KNOW
WHAT THESE EVIL PHONY HYPOCRITES HERE IN AMERICA, WITH THEIR
SO-CALLED HUMAN RIGHTS; IS ALL A LOT OF PURE POLITICAL NONSENSE; JUST
THERE FOR THEIR AGENDA TO RULE THE ENTIRE WORLD, AND VERY SOON. I
PROMISE YOU ALL THAT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still,
being chocked to death began in 1983, and was made far worse in 2015.
But they didn't kill me, and they couldn't kill me. Highland
Avenue-1984 Mark Wayne Mohr, just keeps doing the COPPERTOP BATTERY
Dance of Forever; Peter Paul Pedersen Pan
Geico!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Welcome
to the world of Palm trees and jerk offs from paradise. Don't ever
come to Florida to live, if you're a poor person. Simply put, life
here just is not for you. It would be like trying to crash an A-List
CELEBS party or Trumps powerful pals of the Scott Ransom Club in some
back room cigar deals room. Just forget it, because things won't work
out for you, kind people!
A
while back, I was minding my own business and an evil man walked into
a guard house, by the name of Jimmy Stone, and he fired me. I had
done nothing to this bastard, and he just fired me. It was straight
out of Mickey Walker at Mars of 1977, only this was on the first day
of a whole other month, not July of 1977, but September of 2004.
This
was not some random event. All things all connect up. Most people do
not have a clue because they never stop and look back and see a
bigger picture of shit in hindsight. It is there in all of our faces.
Any of us can see this truth as plain as the nose on our faces. Yes,
27 years and two months after the nightmare of Mickey firing me at
Mars, came Jimmy firing me 'for real' here in this universe while
'awake'. 326 months from that horrible 'nightmare-dream' in 1977, or
really maybe about closer to 330 months, as the dream was sort of
like a premonition about the coming July first, a few months yet to
come. All of this fits into huge shit that time doesn't allow me
getting big time into right now.
Firing
me is part of all of this, and this story involves a double murder
and many other things, but again, I cannot begin to think about
getting into it all right now. So I will talk in a quick 'book
report' type of way and just relay a few facts for now that can all
be tied together much better, later on. Jimmy had to fire me from
this job. Jennifer Washburn had to get me into another job about 28
weeks later. This would be the Cifaloglio place. This all had to
happen. Not in all universes, but in the one where I type out this
blog right now. But there was a character along with some people in
his circle, who were all from the former job up in Florence Township,
that I can prove a connection to with some folks at this new job. No
one who doesn't live in New Jersey can relate, but folks, this is a
densely populated state by anyone's terms and definitions. The odds,
of so many people in my life, all seemingly connected, no matter how
many miles of separation exist in-between these various spots; are
astronomical to say the very dam least. One day in 2007, and around
the time that I sent the music project to the © Office, on Halloween
day of that year, called, “Same Title”; and actually was not
called that, but the © Office named it that for complex reasons,
that again, time would never begin permitting me to get into the dam
ass specifics about with you; but around this date somewhere, was
what I called the Cifaloglio Magazine Incident or the CMI for short.
Someone at this work site, knew that I, the weekend guard, would pass
through an area on clock rounds, and see it opened up to a particular
page, unless I was blind as a bat. I sat down and looked at it after
hitting my key, and it contained some powerful stuff, that at the
time, made some but little sense. Most of it was about Donna Summer
the late disco artist, and some of it was about MC, not MCI. But all
of this, and a big truck load of Baskin Robins Ice Cream; would not
come close to revealing all of the powerful cosmic nuances involved
in all of this. Approximately two years later, the same person that
arranged for my finding this magazine that weekend night while on my
guard duty; learned through the work site grapevine, how I had come
into the garage and got talking to a dude named Bill along with a
couple of his coworkers, and was telling how I was getting fed up
with a truck driver who was always screwing with me, and I showed
them what I might have to do to this person should the harassment not
be stopped, and I leaped into the air like in a Chuck Norris movie,
and gave a double kick to the side, like that dumb new dog flea
commercial where the dog kicks the flea from mid air. But this led to
the making of a whole other TV commercial, one for the great American
Telephone and Telegraph Corporation, or AT&T. Shortly after I
started at this place, a brand new run was started, and Atlantic City
had been added to the route of various trucks that went places to
perform services. The first man hired to do this run, the deer
hunter, Anthony, was friends with many of my Atlantic City enemies in
the local political system, and also friends of the owner of the
place, and was related by marriage I am pretty sure. This family has
a lot of roots up near my wonderful Aunt Ruth and Uncle Heinz lived,
the great Woodie Guthrie Island of New York. After I copyrighted my
music project that I did there one night, called, “Karaoke
Lunch-break at the Sorian 18 Guardhouse”, that the Copyright Office
removed the number-18 from the title for powerful reasons; again
folks no time to get into all of this right now; but this is when the
great Delmo Cifaloglio removed the guardhouse, and made the guards
work outside in our vehicles again, the way it was at the start of
the job, only now, the place being much busier, this was illegally
precarious and deadly ass fuckiGN dangerous. Huge trucks rolled
around me like I was dog-shit, and it was a very scary place to
fucking work. Right before it was removed, I was balled out by the
boss while his daughter who was in the car and loved to always stare
at me, was doing that again, and it was very embarrassing to say the
fucking least. Also, I didn't deserve the man's grief. My reports
were detailed unlike Roy Carl Weiler Senior, the other rotation
security guard, the two of us would relieve each other all weekend
long. All that man ever wrote was the hour and ''all secure''. Let me
tell you folks, nothing is ALL SECURE. Any guard worth his or her
salt knows that. My reports were detailed and accurate and I was all
over that place looking for shit that was out of order. In guard
duty, it is always better to catch something early so as to avoid
much bigger grief that would result down the line should one not
choose to act in such a manner. Long Story Short, or LSS, I have any
reason to know even though I do not have court acceptable evidence,
that Deer-Hunter-Anthony was the key enemy there, as ever since he
came and that Atlantic fuckiGN City run began, the job that was quite
nice before that, turned into nothing but shit, grief, and hell. He
was behind many spurious and bad shit that I had to deal with and
contend with for nearly a half decade that I had to interact with
him. But the real story about Cifaloglio is that if you crashed into
a tiny quick cat nap, or if I did and I did and will admit to it,
boom, the uninduced astral projections were major, and on top of
that, even just regular quick hyperspace experiences were major as
all shit as well. I saw a lot of shit that all came to pass, here in
waking life, just from a quick crash here and there, and 'dreaming'
something that came to pass in future times ahead of me, here in
'waking life'.
Now
some of you know that when I talk about the old job before
Cifaloglio, the dude who was very mysterious and claimed to be an
Olympian God, named Psyche Myrathus from the Great Ring River to the
Province one away from Province Olympia; and two friends of his, all
knew some friends of this driver-Anthony from the new job. But to
keep this all going, I had the WAYV crew, and of course their queen,
the great PAULA Somnambulist KING. I totally believe that Paula is
one and the same person that worked with my mom, because they share
some wild things in personal life besides being dead ringers to each
other physically. The odds that I am wrong on this huge covered up
secret are millions to one, minimum. Fascination with hidden things
is just a part of their similarities, believe me folks. I am not
buying into about fifteen other things here, from her choice of male
suitors and reasons for those wild decisions, to Aunt Shark Ruth
Nightmares of Gloucester, to punishments, to ages all being exact,
and as I said peeps, I could go on making this list, checking it ten
times, and wouldn't even need her wild spurious friend, Santa, to be
involved in this mix.
Sarah
herself came to me in her wild sports car, while I was in an out of
body experience the day after 2006 Christmas at just past five in the
morning, at that Cifaloglio place, but shit doesn't stop there. Where
did I have interactions of hyperspace, with Darius from the Harvest?
You got it folks. Good old Cifaloglio. We were standing where they
wanted the guard to park and sit in his car. He suddenly grabbed me
and lifted me up, as Darius is almost seven feet tall and built
muscularly. He then went onto say to me, “You never liked me”. I
was flabbergasted, and didn't know what to say back, in that 'wild
dream' from 2011. It happened either shortly before or shortly after
he came over here to do that music stuff to my computer, I think it
was before but don't want to swear to it. Normally my memories are
clear as a dam bell. Here I go again, is someone doing a 1983-1984
hyperspace equation deal with me, again, YO?
Go
ahead and tell me that my life isn't so wild, that it literally makes
the dam ass African jungles appear tame in comparison! Just go the
hell ahead, kind ladies and gents!
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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