Sarah
Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet
Chapter
12
Things
are, as always, way more “intricate”, to quote my
comment, to parallel-universe-Paul Pedersen, from somewhere around
2006, give or take a year; at that shopping mall, where there is both
a K-MART Store, and an EXXON GASOLINE station; or at least there was,
as who can ever keep up with the changing world one hundred percent
of the time; and this place is located on Blackwood-Clementon Road,
just half a mile north of the Highland High School, up in
Southwestern New Jersey, USA. Permit me to post the date-time-weather
info, and then I'll get into the specifics of what I am talking
about, my kind folks out there!
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|
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What
to do, and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, WOW Mister
Shakespeare, what a question that would be, OR NOT BE, huh, YO???
NOVEMBER
9, 2015,
MONDAY
AFTERNOON AT 1:26,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 86 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-86/L-70).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 65%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 93.
WIND
IS SE AT 12, WITH GUSTS TO 14.
There
is a whole lot more to this story of my weekend, and the movie, “THE
RING”,
as far as just what I have told you all so far, regarding
re-remembering that my mail box at my Atco home, in 1983, was not
damaged in the way that I forced myself to think. I had shut out the
truth from my mind because it was just as hard for me to deal with,
as lovely Swedish Venka at Cooley Hall, making mince meat out of my
tiny miniscule physical strength, next to hers. When I needed to use
that memory however, I brought it back into my surface mental
consciousness, over at Tom Chillmo's home, in Ventnor, New Jersey, in
1970, as discussed on prior early Morianity blogging from the first
two years of it, in 2006 and 2007. In any event, folks; I am not
going to even begin to say all of the things that are involved in
1983, with this mailbox, and yes, I am not going to lie about seeing
the man in 1996, thirteen years later, who terrorized my mother
directly, and me indirectly, in Turnersville, New Jersey, USA, and
the Prosecutors an dpolice refused to help us in any way at all, just
like the KENNEDY ASSASSINATION COVERUP AND UFO COVERUP AND because it
is all one star family that is behind this, and not whether an
individual bullet was magical and traveled in warp drive through a
hundred impossible pathways, or whether Sally-Dee and her brother
Hadley-Tom witnessed a ''real-UFO'' and even snapped photos. This is
all as meaningless as in the grand scheme of all this BRICK WALL,
HALLS WALLS, HALLS FAWCES nightmare, as would be a bunch of tiny
toddlers playing in Central Park in NYNY-USA, and a nuke bomb is
heading for the city and will arrive in a matter of minutes.
This
came to me in early 1984 or maybe the end of 1983, in a very nice and
polite letter, from the Governor of my state back then, a hell of a
nice fellow who went onto have quite a successful public career,
Mister Tom Kean. He said to me, in response to my letter to him, that
complained about a
specific thing
that was done to me one day, while I was gambling at the Golden
Nugget Hotel and Casino, in Atlantic City, “I
don't think you want me to (paraphrased-get involved with one
particular
play) at the gaming table that you mention”,
and then he went onto discuss what I had written about, involving
an overall
harassment
I felt that I was being given, by the casino's of Atlantic city, in
general. I want you all to focus on that sentence that I admit I do
not recall the exact words that Governor Kean used, but it was close
to what I wrote in here, in a paraphrase that I put into parenthesis.
It is not about any one thing!!!!!!!!! None of this ever was or will
be, about ONE
PARTICULAR THING.
But take all of those particular things together, and we no longer
have one particular thing that is going on. The biggest thing of all,
is most likely the fact that they have always worried that I would
put together something I learned about, when I was in my nightmare
mid-life crisis of a sort, and frantically searching FOR
MY SARAH,
back
in the middle nineteen-nineties,
huh Misses Estelle Anderson Bassler, of Ormond Beach, Florida,
USA?????????????????? Let me go onto explain that a little bit, YO.
I
cannot tell exactly who told what, or what I heard through what IMHO
were very reliable grapevines, and things along this nature; but I
learned around the time that I was writing my blog about a year, that
I am already in this family of great washcloths, long before I was
brought further into it, during a summer time act of passion,
underneath the Central Pier of Atlantic City, on the first Saturday
of July in the year 1969. It seems that Robert McGuire's grandfather
was a first cousin to my mother's Aunt Alice Gallagher, of Chicago,
Illinois. One day in the early winter time of 1948, McGuire's grand
dad, and her husband, My Great Uncle Arthur or whatever the relation
would be, who axed this lady, and her mom, in their dam sleep, in a
suburb of Boston, Massachusetts; one snowy cold winter's night,
before hanging himself in the basement; went to New Mexico on a
hunting trip, after leaving a two day mid-west Pennsylvania
excursion. They went to a place that I think was called Deer Pass out
not that far from nee-nee-nee-nee-ville and the alien bullshit all
supposedly went down. To hear this told, we learned from the
Exploratronic supermind Society who was faking out that they were
space aliens with a magical powerful space saucer with half
humanoid-half android entities, supposedly interacted with these men,
and even as the Christians would call it, “possessed them”.
Normally this is done to us while we sleep, but not in this case,
because this was all to begin some major WASHCLOTH-FAMILY thing, that
even Morianity does not have all the dam answers to. But I do know
one thing about that repressed memory. My mom described that huge
Indian descent man with the real large round face and his lime bright
green truck, on that day of terror, on 2 August in 1996, ten years to
the day of what caused my dam ass APOLOGY-SONG to be written, and
that description is about as dead on to the man who exited his lime
green bright colored truck, who kicked over my mailbox. On that truck
was a photo of some stupid flying saucer and some stupid ass looking
alien. My mom also told me about that same thing on that truck
thirteen years later, so it just has to be the guy, plus mom told me
he was about late fortyish in age, and he was looking around age 35
to me, when I saw him on that late spring night back in the year of
1983. This is all why I bring up that cool fucking documentary on
television that I saw, so dam often on my blogs, from 1988, called,
“UFO-THE
COVER UP”,
on WPIX,
New York City, TV,
YO!!!!
Now
why the movie called, “THE RING” brought a lot of shit to my mind
that made me aware that I had blocked this dude out of consciousness
all these dam years, 43+, is not too hard to work with and analyze.
THAT
WAS THE EQUATION
all along; right Nurse
Chapel,
Doctor
Roger Corby,
and Gene
Allberries Roddenberry,
of Blucranville, of all great Incollingo's Grocery Store cup cakes,
with transdimensional ingredients???????? And so exactly why didn't
the hang in there forest fire Huntington Hammonton Police, fine me
that day for not having proper identification, during that attempted
murder, and transdimensional shifting of the Blucran
Mysteries.
I'll bet you all a million dollars, that super
talented and wonder MC,
knows
a lot more than she will ever tell!!!!!!!!!!!
Stinkyweed
Sleazedisease Jane Fonda; just fuckign nailed me with her one and
only world famous page eleven persecution, so I'll need to mother
fuckiGN compensate now, with some nice pwetty fives, Mister Elmer
Fwudd, YO BRO!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
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THE
END, ALL LOVELY L&O SAVANTS!!!
NOVEMBER
9, 2015,
MONDAY
MORNING AT 9:46,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 83 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-83/L-70).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 79%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 91.
WIND
IS SE AT 6, WITH GUSTS TO 8.
Sarah
Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
What an
amazing fucking world this really and truly is, ladies and gentlemen.
I honestly have tried to stop seeing the visual symbolism around me
and how it shows with crystal clarity, all the reality in all its
ugly and rarely pretty forms, that otherwise, mortals ignore and it
all tends to be unnoticed forever, lost to the people awake and
alive, or so they god dam think anyway. Even my trip on 2
August of 1986, up to the great city that never sleeps, like
Frank Sinatra who now sleeps all he wants to, MAYBE. I mean, that
was the night, that limos and their opera
lights, were all over the goddess dam place, and seemed to
thereafter, be a part of the life and conversation, of both myself,
and my late pal who was still early in 1986, Mister David Charles
Roth! Show me how to escape symbolic truth and NOT hear cosmos
screaming at me at thirteen bells continuously, and I'll show you
DEAD PEOPLE, not physically, but the great Jesus would know what I
refer to here! I honestly do not know how all of you live and exist
so blind and deaf!
Holy
Jesus Juice and atomic shoes from the Cherry Hill Subaru Plant, 'WHAT
NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy? WOW, could it be THE WEEKEND OF THE
RING? It sure wasn't my pants not going down all the say to my dam
ass shoes, or any nuclear shoes that got me covertly fired without
one explanation, in enemy wealth territory up in Jersey, that's also
known as (AKA) CHERRY HILL!
I
wanted so badly to be with my Diana (The Lightning Goddess of the
Earth), out in the Purgatory, but kept drifting away and out into
hyperspace! I can add in here a timeless phrase that abbreviates the
very well know terms of “same old-same old,
what else is new, same shit on a different
day”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD
Then
the people that I was with, panicked for reasons I did not
understand, and ran; and I mean they fuckign booked fast and furious,
to quote the movie, in this dimension anyway, as I do not know if
that movie exists in that world that I was interacting in, through my
doppelganger-me who lives alive and awake in the physical body that I
merely was energetically inside of, creating this ''dream'', or
really, NIGHTMARE! There were two very mean ugly looking men about
the same size and age and build, not alike by any means facially, and
they had guns and flashlights. They both had their flashlights in
hand, and shining on me. Then they pulled out their guns and shot me
and shot me and shot me, and I was bleeding all over the place in
horrible fuckign agony, until finally bleeding out, and then I awoke
out of that hell, and back here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been
traveling throughout endless dreams for endless infinity, and am
totally aware of it. You all on the other hand have also been
traveling throughout endless dreams for endless infinity, and are
merely totally UNAWARE OF IT, YO!!!!
Blockbuster
and places like this have all gone out of business. I will be talking
to the K-MART and the Walmart electronics managers to see what to do
and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, to rent and buy video and
movies, as this online shit can go suck my dick. I am not buying and
trusting giving out any personal info, and I am therefore unable to
do squat on this fucking cunt lapping computer and internet! I WILL
get that dam movie, THE RING, and I WILL learn what I need to
learn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALL
SAVANTS KNOW THIS IS (THE END)!!!!
SARAH
KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET
CHAPTER
10
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GLOBAL
AUDIENCE IN SHADE RATIO:
Mike
McNulty back in the autumn of 1971 said it perfectly, and far better
than I ever could. If someone asked me to give a very brief synopsis
of my miserable sixty one year life as Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr; I
could go to the Chinese menu columns of A
and B. A
could be these ten years of blogged-Morianity, while B
would be a lot dam simpler however; and Mike knows this only too dam
ass well, kind folks out here, YO!!!
“AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mike
told me that the print shop there at the Church Farm School was
paying a dollar three eighty an hour. This is a very clever trick for
those who employ illegals, to try on those buttwipes who can';t even
speak our dam language, huh Cuzz Donnie Boy? But still, to quote
L&O's great Detective Leonard Briscoe and his GAP 27th
Police Precinct of Manhattan, NYUSAESMWG, always remember that greed
is the downfall of many good humans. Animals only take what they
need. They do not care after that. Now they will steal and kill, but
my point is not human soul and sin reasoning right now, just pure
simple greed, that begins at age three in a pen with other toddlers,
and one candy bar is thrown in, and watch the non-sharing greed
begin. Like WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say,
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day,
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away.
There
was a very mean and greedy man who used to fish off of the piers of
Stone Harbor and Avalon, up in Joysey. To hear Mike McNulty tell the
story, only my song lyrics written in 2013 could even come close to
telling about this very greedy evil soul. The legend is supposedly
true, if that is, Mike McNulty is telling the truth. He may be, and
then again, he may be trying to pay me a dollar three eighty an hour.
Give it a try, you illegal employers out there.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! See you in jail, when my CUZZ becomes
our next PREZ, YO!
END
TRANSMISSION.
SARAH
KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS
PLANET
CHAPTER
9, AFTER MORIANITY PROJECT (AMP)
HOLY
HOT PIG SHIT ALL OVER MY FACE; DOES MY LIFE SUCK A RUPTURED FUCKING
DUCK SQUARED, OR WHAT, YO?
I
have the most incredible fucking shit happen to me, and only a god
dam ass fucking hand full of people are interested. I totally know
that if I could ever crack the reasons, to why some of my shit that I
post, causes huge viewer spikes, while things that I would bet good
money on, that I believe would indeed do this, don't do it; and in
fact, seem to almost have the opposite effect; I'd be way way ahead
of the game. I've been noticing this shit for about a year, or maybe
a little more now, and this has to be some big ass game!
This
is why I need to stop even concerning myself with the view count on
this blog. After-all; it crossed over the 100,000 mark, and no little
elf jumped out of my desk drawer, and spit cider out in my ear; nor
resurrected my great pal, Senator Fred Thompson from his grave as we
all know; you need Laser
Trace Distance Delay Technology, to pull that
one off; wonderful ladies and gentlemen.
Labels:
DYING
DECLARATION,
DYING
UTTERANCES,
MAJOR
BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKING,
NABES
FROM HELL,
ROTTEN
ROACH NABES,
VIOLATION
OF MY CIVIL RIGHTS NOT TO BE PERSECUTED AND OPPRESSED
Professor
Michio Kaku, of NYU, up there in the great state of New York, and all
empires; if anyone gets this message to you, it will possibly lead to
a true advancement in humankind over significant time, and I know
this to be a fact, because of my own personal dam life's experiences,
sir.
I
had an incredible mother fuckiGN weekend, and a bad one; because
HALLS FAWCES wiped out my being able to
view a movie that I very much felt I needed to see. Now, I
know I did, as these fawces from HELL, did not waste all of that
supernatural power, pulling off that deed yesterday, FOR
NOTHING. No power or force, that is
successful, WASTES! Take this last sentence as one of
Morianity's largest instructions into quintessential wisdom; kind
folks out here, YO!!!
I
go to watch a movie, and originally, I was just going to record some
television shows over the tape, and had placed a small piece of
scotch tape over the punched out hole on the VHS cassette, and then
for reasons that no one can explain, suddenly decided to just kick
back and enjoy the movie, and then boom, fifteen minutes later, this
entire thing struck like a mother fuckiGN tidal wave, after a mega
quake of eleven on the Richter Scale. Jesus Fooking Christ in the
Plank's Capitol City!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And none of my asshole
viewers think it is interesting. Unfathomable! Well, I have been told
that I am not the center of the universe, and people get busy;
especially on the weekends. How true. Still, this is all bullshit,
and I know it. I know better, and I also know, a huge game with all
of this, right down to this blog being created; is surrounding me,
like a house of terror, with no windows, no doors; and even if there
was one, nothing at all out beyond it, you know, like a geometric
hyper-house! This is why humankind's logic is nonsense to me, and
vice versa of course. BUTTTTTTTTT, this is also why I say, “I
DON'T WANNA' HEAR IT”, and I'll say it pictorially too!
So
who is Sarah
Krassle?
She
is the absolute GOD OF YOUR WORLD, and mine;
ladies and gentlemen. Lenny McKinnon said it, and I do not believe he
said it live on that CB-RADIO as handle ops man 601, but had it
recorded from 1980, the only year that I ever interacted with him,
and this I'll quote, “There
ain't no doubt about it”.
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Maybe
the REALE ark of the contract, between Israel and the Almighty
Krassle-Lord; is right here on this blog, after
a little bit of Technofote work was done
by this friend of Rosalie from the Park; National that is, not Miss
Parks from the Civil Rights stuff of long ago. We both seem to be
suffering from technophobe related things, to hear her tell it; back
in middle late 1994 somewhere, in Redbank, New Jersey! Now these
times are where the shit starts becoming ''vely vely intelesting'',
right Bob
McDowell old pal,
from Cooley Hall; who went onto become the Director & Chairman,
of the GREAT
& POWERFUL
FEDERAL
COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION?????
My
life is total hell!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
NOVEMBER
8, 2015,
EARLY
SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT 12:58,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 86 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-86/L-70).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 70%, FEELING LIKE 95.
WIND
IS SE AT 12, WITH GUSTS TO 14.
HH88—--HH88----HH88----HH88
HH88—--HH88----HH88----HH88
HH88—--HH88----HH88----HH88
HH88—--HH88----HH88----HH88
HERBERT
HUNTINGTON,
the father of my mom's Uncle Arthur Huntington, father in law of my
Mom's Aunt Alice Gallagher, of Chicago, Illinois, USA; was almost as
interesting a dude as his son and other fam, YO. Numbers fascinate
many people, from nobody's like me, to great artists of all times,
including our own. Still, this never will alter the fact that LSD
is not needed to use the great FASCITAR,
and also, that my persecution is very real, and not a psychotic
delusion, made up in a mentally ill mind. Two years after this
horrible shit all began, I began to make very special musical
projects, the Epitome of Harassment original, as well as the Part 2,
and Part 3 projects; all in 1988, and in 1989.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,
AND HA-HA-HA; you missed me; Mizz
Jane dirtbag Shitplants Thistleweeds Waterwitchbitch,
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
©
Mark Wayne Mohr 2006-2015
Blogs
Of Mountainpen (BOM)
''Jesus
Katy Christ'', to quote my father; and a dam ''Holy moley, nothing
makes any sense'', from his son.
NOBODY
UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND
YET!!!
Maybe
back in the middle of 1983; I never should have allowed
that 'STM'
cassette tape,
to be added onto a music project, that I sent to the GREAT
AND POWERFUL (GAP) © Office.
It all but admits just what I am able to do; so why keep trying to
fucking dam hide it, YO? Pray on Christians, Swim on Mark the Shark;
and we'll all go on keeping the faith; J. Osteen, Colaman-ESS, and
future lovely Twinbay! Well, from the reference frame of the year of
2007 anyway, YO! But
Still,
Lenny Briscoe, and all DD's! Yeah, ''but still'' this, YO! Nasty fart
sounds, vomiting sounds, and asshole sike ward advertiser for bipolar
behavior, making his dumb ass stupid fucking sounds on TV!
NO
GOD DAM GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED, AND SO I
NO LONGER TAKE OUT TURKEY KNIVES; GAP-SSJKK.
''Tricky
teet-teet'', little Marnie Disney, from the far north-nestern regions
of Potterkovich, in Province Olympia, on Phase-2-PLANK REALITY; and
definitely not Joann, from 1976 and 1977. Don't kick the door in Bill
Marnie, and Mister McKnighten, for cryin' out loud, YO!!!!!!!!!! WOW
that dude had some fucking killer hifi audio monitors,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hlkgnbh
gjrudheyf78577gnn fhgjdh-kdfjfghd. Now decode that, ladies and
gentlemen; and I'll see you in a briper
or so.
(BRIGGBASE
PERIOD)
|
Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
|
PAu000204016
|
1980
|
But
it was 1910 when I came over here to Trenton. I never told a soul
what happened to me when I met the most wonderful awesome goddess, in
Trenton, New Jersey, and fell madly in love. In those days, it was
not considered perverted to marry girls as young as 13-17, and was
done more frequently than people in these times can imagine. When I
met her in that lifetime, she was just past age 14, and some have
hinted that maybe the wheel went around. Hey, ''like maybe it like
did'', to quote the younger gen!
If
only a boat, a small little boat, could only take me away.
Away
to a place, a beautiful place, forever the years to stay.
Written
in 1963, by an eight and a half year old Philadelphia boy, not yet
going by the name of Mountainpen. Oh
those male nurses, and nasty rumors.
What
is wrong with this world,
oh wonderful great daughter of mine?
Now
for those who just may some time, when you're not too busy and all of
that; want to get into what major shit went down around me this
weekend, involving major memories coming back to me, of shit that
took place around the time of less than one week before my lifelong
adult choking condition began in 1983; I am going to paste in the two
previous chapters, in a proper time order, so that it will make sense
a little bit more, than reading it as is, up on the GAP
Blogger Web-Site. WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Sarah
Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet
CHAPTER
7.
Well,
as I said on that music project, that was sent down to the United
States Copyright Office, back in the nineteen-eighties; “HERE
WE GO”.
Then came some weird and wild drumming!
There
are always major new revelations for those who are in the
RECEPTIVE-MODE, such as Mountainpen is. When I say new revelations, I
mean it; and if you don't have some smelling salts handy nearby you,
in case you fall over in a faint; then stop reading this chapter in
SARAH KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET!
NOVEMBER
7, 2015,
SATURDAY
AFTERNOON AT 2:00
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 86 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-86/L-73).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 96.
PREDICTED
HIGH TO 88, FEELING NEAR 100.
WIND
IS ESE AT 14, WITH GUSTS TO 21.
NOVEMBER
7, 2015,
SATURDAY
AFTERNOON AT 2:00
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 86 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-86/L-73).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 96.
PREDICTED
HIGH TO 88, FEELING NEAR 100.
WIND
IS ESE AT 14, WITH GUSTS TO 21.
When I was
staying at Selena Dada's Rooming House, on Stenton Place, in
Atlantic City, New Jersey, in 1974, on a three day vacation by
myself; as most of you know, I met a very strange man on the
beach, right up near what I called, “Ziggy's Jetty”. This
man was the very same man that spoke to the Attorney General on
that Washington park bench, in the 'JFK', OLLIE STONE MOVIE. How I
came to know this is not important, other than it was important
enough for him to reach out to me in a similar way, because of
something that I was repressing along with several things in my
life, and this one led to why my body developed the choking
illness in the late spring time in 1983. Many Hollywood
productions have built in history markers, such as the great Henry
Fonda movie called, “12 angry Men”, where a horrible double
curse word was said by a member of the jury in this show, and no
one ever swore like that in those days, especially in any movie
that starred Henry Fonda, a very fine outstanding gentleman who
had and still has all of my respect, despite his kid, and hey, we
can't be responsible for what our dam kids do, as I know so
'perfectly clearly'; huh Mister President RMN? All you need to
know, is that I have had many ideas, about what caused this
unknown and mysterious physical condition, of June 1983. They all
have their place in logic and order based on what I knew at the
time on a conscious level, not including deeply repressed into the
subconscious memories.
I
have blogged various ideas about this man, who ever since our
encounter for a short thirty minutes or so, altered my entire
life, in larger ways than August of 1986 did; producing for me,
some magical kind of transformed enlightenment to cosmos, and
truths about singularities in general, and their effects on human
existence.
What
I did not allow myself to remember until putting an old videotape
from the Fort Pierce Goodwill Store, into my video machine,
Walmart's
cheapo of the two combo video units,
and
the name of the movie, that I never watched before, as I am not a
movie goer and only watch things decades after a movie comes out
normally, on seventy cent VHS Good Will or similar discount store
offers, is “THE RING”. As soon as I watched the first quarter
hour of it, memories shot into my mind from my split level home in
Atco, owned by Gerald Pliner, that my mom and I were renting from
February 1, 1983 until the end of September of that same year,
when we returned back to the Robin Hill apartments, at number
506,for our tween-stay at these apartments.
I
turned off the video machine and came running over to do this
blog. I am not going to sleep on this or wait for some calmer
cooler head. This is going to be told right mother fuckiGN now. My
mom had gone to bed early not feeling well, on the last Thursday
in May of 1983, as she had to go in to work the next day and
Friday's at her office were brutal, to quote her, in that time.
Something was happening that gave her a lot of extra work to do,
and it was enough to drive you to drink, to quote her again.
Fortunately, she had not began to drink yet, as that came in the
early nineteen nineties when her wonderful coworker Emily came
along, and this was no accident, any more that billionaires are
any accident, but that's all topic for other blogs on other dam
ass days, YO!!!!
THE
GREAT AWESOME TWB,
YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!
To
this day, I will never know what Lenny McKinnon, the U.S.
Copyright Office, and some others, all pulled off; after I went to
that music attorney by the name of Malcolm
Rosenberg, early in the autumn of
1980, or somewhere around there. I sent the four songs on
one open reel tape, at a speed
of 7 and one half IPS, on a full track recording, copied onto my
RS-1500-US, open reel semi-pro mastering machine, that I bought
from the Martin Audio/Video store, in Manhattan, in May of 1980,
and was delivered to my apartment by UPS, early in the first week
in June, right before my powerful and unfathomable bizarre Lois
Foca dream-HIE-RAW! Suddenly Marcy
Levy and Robin Gibb, from the famous BEEGEE assholes, had
made a song, that was rapidly going into lower numbers, on the
Billboard Hot 100 Music Charts, called, “Help
Me”, speaking of major fuckiGN symbolism, YO. After I saw
the attorney recommended by my arranger, Mister Glenn, the song
magically seemed to get pulled off of the air, and was killed
cold; but no one ever spoke a word to me about shit, not Howard
Solomon, not Lenny McKinnon, not Malcolm Rosenberg. I would have
had this entire thing make perfect sense, if not for my repressing
the memory of something not yet happening by reference to 1980,
but three years later. Now up in late 2015, it is all clear as a
sunny day without one dam cloud in th esky.
I
was going outside with some trash to put into an outside can for
pickup, and a car drove up and before I even got past my door to
the street; a large man exited his car, gave my mailbox a huge
shove, kicking it right out of the ground. He then proceeded to
get right back into his vehicle, and he drove off; and I just
stood there like a stupid scared little fucking wuss, before there
were any wusses, if memory correctly serves me in the time tunnel
here, without any aid from Tony and Doug and other ESS-TRAVELERS!
The
joke is that in 1977, before this particular internet song-list
was used; I
had copyrighted the LOST LOVE song.
But
it was the arrangement that was stolen,
and even without the copyright, Tom Glenn, my arranger, was paid
in full by me, as work for hire, or whatever they call it. This
music and arrangement is all legally owned by me, and is legally
my property, whether copyrighted or not; as
long as Tom Glenn is available to go to court, and witness this
for me someday. But
fuck all this shit. When I went to the street, which was
NORRISVAVENUE, to try and repair my mailbox, I realized I would be
better off digging a new and deeper hole, as the old hole was
maybe nine inches down, and it should be more like two feet for a
secure hold into the ground. Still, just like the man who said in
1996 to my mother, “I am going to kill your son and I'll kill
you too if you don't get away from my truck”, over at the
Turnersville Shopping Center Parking Lot, on 2 August, a weekday,
but back then she did not work all five weekdays; how did he know
I was her son, when I could have been any possible relation as far
as he should have been able to ascertain, from friend to coworker
to nephew to even grandson, since I look a lot younger than my
years. Still my point is that, how did this man who broke my
mailbox, fucking know how easy it would be to knock it down with a
light kick? Too many things like this are all around me all my
life, as though I am some lab rat in a huge cosmic cage and
everyone knows everything about me, like the LAW & ORDER
people seem to, and much much much fuckiGN more.
On
Blogger since January 2006
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©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
Thirty
minutes later it was still light outside, and I am guessing it was
about a quarter past eight in the evening, on this final Thursday
in May, while I was living up at 134 Norris Avenue,in Atco, New
Jersey, USA, ESMWG.
I
had found a small garden spade to dig a hole, but the ground was
hard, and I also took a large cooking pan filled with hot water
outside with me, and I poured the hot water down on the ground
about two feet from where the old mailbox was standing before that
pig came along and kicked it over. When I dug my new hole and
grabbed the mailbox to put it down into it, I happened to open up
the thing and voile, and cheapo office systems that don't add the
(') on the word (voile), there was something inside of it. The
days of Roger Carey, 25 years ahead of schedule. A note was inside
of it, and I cannot absolutely remember if this dirt bag dude put
it in there quickly, or if it was in there since 2 that afternoon
when I got my mail for the day.
I
only remember two things about that note, other than in my anger I
tossed it, you know, ripping it to shreds and throwing it right
into my outside trash can, since I was standing just a couple
yards from it when this all took place at the mailbox. I remember
now, doing that, and then reburying the mailbox and kicking the
Earth around it nice and tight, and thinking to myself, maybe I
will buy a tiny amount of cement at the local Atco Hardware Store
tomorrow after dropping Mom off at the Lindenwold High Speed-line
PATCO train system, that takes her to and from work in
Philadelphia, each day. I never did, and I never had another
mischievous incident. Still, talk about the Carey's and the
mailbox, huh Mizz Winfrey? No more post cards to my mother please,
as she works way too hard to worry about your dumb show, lady!!!!
I remember
ripping the note up, and wishing I had been able to get the
license fucking tag of that car with the huge dude, who kicked
over my box, and then I was standing there listening to some farm
animals in that weird small farm across the street with all sorts
of noisy birds and animals, as the skies were darkening, and I had
thrown away the note. But I swear to the gods of the Plank Realm,
I do remember that I looked at the note I had found, as I was
ripping it up to shit, and it said something along the lines of
Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb and their “HELP ME” song from 1980,
and that I would be sorrier than shit for making trouble for the
mighty BEEGEE people. A few days later, I got sick one morning
with some kind of carbon monoxide poisoning while asleep in my
bedroom, and then that night, my throat began to not be able to
clear, and it all began from there. I wanted to tell the FBI this
story five years later, but my conscious memory was suppressed,
just like in 2008, even on 080808, I was still suppressing and was
suppressing the memories of being in my daughter's home in Suffolk
County, and seeing that horrible horrible god dam stair chase with
Roy and Patty! I had been visiting my mom's Cousin Ruth Huntington
Gottwald and her hubby Heinz, up in Babylon, on Peninsula Drive,
and then she drove her two grandchildren, Heinz and Ruth's
daughter Christine Meyers kids, Scottie and Christopher, up to the
same block that my daughter lived on. I was walking their dog on
the block, where I met a gorgeous teen blond, and then after that,
I walked in the other direction, where my daughter was outside
along a fence-line, beckoning me to come through and see her new
flashlight. I will never ever forget it, and with me, was my tape
recorder that I always had with me everywhere I went. There is a
lot more to this and it is kind of not bloggable for many reasons.
But this note in my box in 1983, almost nine years later, had a
drawing on top of the paper, and it was a giant sized ring, and I
am positive that underneath that and before my first terroristic
threat, as the second one was as many of you know, on August 2,
1996 at the shopping center parking lot, by another HUGE MAN, that
I never say, only my mom saw him, and he was about the right age,
as this dude was about 35 when I saw him, and yes, he was of
Indian descent, as in the nation of India, not Native-American.
Now tying
in this note to this movie, “THE RING”,
I have not watched the rest of the show, as I am here blogging.
But I do remember one super ultra hyper powerful gargantuan mother
fucking thing folks, and that is that the
dude from the JFK MOVIE, not really him, as in the show,
the dude playing it is the dude who plays the running coach of
Steve Prefontaine; but whoever was talking to the United States
attorney General, Kevin Costner played the role of the AG in this
movie from 1992, or whenever it was in that general time circa,
produced by Oliver Stone; and he talking to him in the exact same
way that the man of great mystery that altered my life forever as
a young lad of age nineteen and one half years, was talking to
me!!! Tieing in a major fact to all of this, is that if you took
the First Lady, Jackie Kennedy, made her a teenager, and turned
her into a huge giant, she would very much resemble the great
Sarah Krassle that came to me in that wild chain-dream experience
in December of 1969. Some fucking how, all of this dam shit ties
together, and here is a lot more. The very same forces, and walls,
and coverups, with all of this nasty rotten fuckiGN mess; are
covering up the UFO-Phenomenon, and also, are the forces operating
all my life around me, invisibly, stealthfully, and covertly,
annihilating every fact of my existence and life. They cannot kill
me because that is against the rules, but they can do unimaginable
shit to you. If you know exactly what scares each person more than
anything else in the world, and you had the power of these (HALLS
FAWCES AND WALLS), you could project an image in front of them
with a powerful device, and they will die in fear. Also, if you
manage to not die and be somehow impervious to death as I appear
to be; then kaboom, it can alter your glands in various ways,
several and I have extensively researched my findings folks, it
can appear to almost freeze or dramatically slow down physical
signs of age appearance, it can cause very dry mouth and choking
sensations, and it can cause a few other things as well, extreme
paranoia and other psychotic features that are manageable without
medication, if you know how to do it. But they can come at you in
dreams, when they no longer can come at you while awake. I am now
going to finish watching the movie, “THE RING“. My next blog
will take all of this a lot further, and THAT, I promise all of
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
don't know about the SAR of the rings
BUTTTTTTTTTTTT,
this other ring has helped
me
to cross over another huge bridge!
©
BOM 2006-2015 MARK WAYNE MOHR
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
She
used to say, and I quote; “If you don't like cats and dogs and
kids, there's got to be something wrong with you somewhere”. I
am speaking of the world's great and now sadly late, disco diva,
Mizz Donna Gaines Summer!
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Sarah
Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet
CHAPTER
8
The
reason I do not believe in supreme power, and other worldly
intelligent dealings and interactions, with us dinosaur people of
today; is because I have no reason to ever NEED TO BELIEVE. I
beg you all on my mother fuckiGN knees, not to take this as a brag,
as the gods know it is not. It is a mother fucking unholy miserable
burning endless eternal nightmare fire. I do not believe, BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW. I am going to tell you just
one tiny item that you must realize that if
this was the only one, then I would not feel the way I do
about all of this. It is not. This kind
of fuckiGN shit happens to me week in and week out, year in and year
out; and ever since leaving turd chewing fucking high school, and
people, that's some ass collection of fuckiGN years. 1973 through
almost 2016, think about it, do the math. 2016-1973=43 solid ass
fucking years, YO!!!! Now I will tell you what happened, that fits
directly into how I know there is some intelligent super advanced
WHATEVER, god, entity, alien, demon, you decide which fucking word
works best and most comfortable with you, the reader; only don't pick
sick, deluded, psychotic, crazy, and nuts, as I DON'T MOTHER
'FUCKIGN' WANNA' HEAR IT, YO!
I
told you that I started to watch a movie tape purchased from the Fort
Pierce, Florida, Good Will Store, on Route 1, at the Virginia Avenue
Shopping Mall, maybe a year to two years ago, that I had sitting in a
pile on top of a credenza type piece of furniture filled with shelves
of VHS videotapes. This movie is called, “The
Ring”. I began viewing it, and about 15 minutes into it or
so, POOF-POTTER-ALAGAZAM, Simon Says,
and all sorts of other names in magic; I suddenly was struck hard, by
a repressed memory that came back to me; all the way from late May,
of 1983; when my mailbox was screwed with, outside the home that my
mom and I were renting, in Atco, New Jersey, USA, at 134 Norris
Avenue, in Eastern Camden County; owned by the owner of the nearby
Atco L&S Nursing Home, Mister Gerald Pliner! Now if you thought
you needed some anti-fainting smelling salts before, you will need a
much fucking larger supply of it now, if you choose to read on here,
lads and lassies! THAT, I totally promise you all, my BRO!
If
you haven't yet read my previous blog, I think you should skip to it
now, and I am adding it to this blog, so just skip to the bottom part
of this blog, and wait to see the CHAPTER-7 heading, and read that,
and then, come back and finish reading here in CHAPTER 8.
I
said that I was going to fucking go back after doing that blog
(CHAPTER 7), and finish watching the movie that I only began to
watch, when somehow this movie caused me to weirdly retrieve that
major ass repressed memory from over 32 dam years ago! I had left the
video tape in the video machine, and after I posted the blog, ate
some dinner, and began to activate my TV set again. I sat down on my
chair, and suddenly saw on the TV screen, the word 'REWIND' come on.
My tape had somehow began recording off of the Comcast Cable box, and
had completely finished out, and was totally erasing out the rest of
the movie, “THE RING”, so that I couldn't fucking watch it. You
might scoff and say I make mountains out of fuckiGN mole hills, but
let me tell you a little fact of life, folks. Ask any really good
mathematician this following question, if you dare! Things like this
happen all the time to me. ALL THE FUCKING
CUNT TIME. After 30, 40, 70, maybe 100 times, year in and
year out, for more than 40 years, totaling at least 4,000 times, or
40 years times 100 times annually on average; and this is no random
series of events that a lot of people who love to scoff at shit they
cannot see with their eyes, label and call, coincidences. Any real
mathematician worth his or her salt, will say, hey if Mountainpen is
telling the truth, maybe for a year or two, or as many as five, but
no way in 'FUCKIGN' GOD DAM ASS HELL, can this happen for more than
40 straight years to him, and that it would HAVE TO BE, some
higher intelligence, entity,
god, alien,
demon, or to quote my old 1975 fuckiGN pal and vocalist, Bob Andrews,
from Oak Street, in Haddon Heights, New Jersey, USA; “WHATEVER”!!!!
Hay
Mike McNulty; I think your grand daughter is laughing at both
of us; you crazy mother fucker!!! But is she
laughing at us because she knows we both are Neil Regan-Bob Lockhart
clowns, like Regan's little brat used to laugh at my machine,
and the lightning making the Privecode system go off automatically;
back at First Highview, in WILL-I-AM-ST-OWN????
OR
IS SHE LAUGHING AT YOUR AHA'A???
SO
IN A DAM NUTSHELL, I WAS GOING TO WATCH A MOVIE, and since the
beginning of that movie caused a huge repressed memory to become
totally unblocked, about how my mailbox was broken in Atco, back in
'83, as up until that time yesterday, I only remembered coming home
from the train station with my mom, and seeing it broken; and
this was a 1970-VENKA-STRONG-GIRL
forced memory, or a blocked out event, that was too horrible
for me to retain, on a conscious-mind level; in other words. Now
if 15 minutes of watching this movie called, “THE
RING”, caused all of this; then I am left to only
seriously fucking ponder on what the rest of that movie would have
caused me to remember, and better understand. Now quite obviously,
HALLS FAWCES/WALLS,
the very same people behind harassing people, who are too seriously
into the UFO stuff, and even according
to Channel 11 WPIX-TV from a 1988 documentary aired on their station,
THREATEN, AND CLAIM TO MAKE PEOPLE MISERABLE,
TO THE POINT OF ''NOT GIVING THEM A MOMENT OF PEACE FOR THE REST OF
THEIR LIFE'', just as in the case with me; and this was aired on real
fucking TV back then in 1988, no matter who out here does not
want to believe this truth; so 'they'
somehow knew this, read my blog, or my mind, or whatever; as
the tape was being erased from the time that I started that blog,
and this I know, because I did the math, from the time back on the
tape when it ran out in the record mode, and the REWIND WORD appeared
on the TV-SCREEN; and then based on the approximate time of the
movie, as per the tape itself, with that information printed onto it.
So my point in all of this is that THESE
FAWCES OF MISTER HALL, are sure as
shit covering up this entire SARAH
KRASSLE mess;
and how it all connects into my music all my
life, the chain, Russ Thaxton, ALL OF IT
FOR FUCKING CUNT CRISSAKE, YO; and it really pisses me off,
when people do not see the power, behind all of this; and I only get
a trickle of mother fucking views, on something
this cock sucking fucking huge, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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