Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Chapter 15, Sarah Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet










Sarah Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet

CHAPTER 15















{{{{{((((*** BEGINNING TRANSMISSION.***))))}}}}}





































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It is 12:12 on a Wednesday morning, Mister Darius Evans, sir, on your wonderful eleven-eleven day; only four years later now, praise GOD-ESS, up here in the year of twenty-fifteen. WEEEEEEEEE!!!









If you ever come back into town, look me up Big-D. The entire world has deserted me, and I have become the quintessential fucking pariah. I am dying of Colon Cancer, and that is probably the only good thing in my hellish life, that it will soon be over, and I'll be fucking fourteen years old again, on a dam train, called the PATCO-HIGH SPEEDLINE RAIL SYSTEM. I will be on the side facing the doors, in a seat about half way between the door and the end of the car. I will suddenly say to myself, as I have said about two hundred dam times now; “Here I am again, I exist, this is real, I was really here before, and I am back here now. It begins here and now, AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!















I went to the lab for blood work back yesterday-Tuesday, and then onto my local farm to pick up three meds. I am just going to let myself die, unless that is illegal in this nation, and it may very well be. Nothing is confirmed, but I have all the symptoms of a galloping fast cancer of the colon, so fuck it, I AM OUT OF HERE. WEEEEEEE!!!!!!! I see my PCP, Dock Roberts on Thursday. Hey both my dad and grand dad kicked fucking off at age 61, and now, it looks like I'll be right there to make it a three, that magic 3-number-again, huh LIGHTNING, like fuckiGN WOW, YO YO YO YO YO YO YOM YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!! HALL'S WALLS ARE NOT SOME JOKE. EVERY MOTHER FUCKING SERIOUS UFOLOGY BUFF HAS FELT THEM, SEEN THEM, AND EXPERIENCED THEM PERSONALLY. IF YOU THINK MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR IS GOING TO DIE IN SOME FUCKED UP LONELY HEARTS CLUB ON THIS ONE, FOLKS; YOU'RE VERY MUCH MISTAKEN; GREAT KIND PEOPLE; I'll merely DIE! AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, huh Mike McNulty? A dollar three eighty an hour, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?

'WHAT NEXT', BIG DAM O, and J. Judy?







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, NOW HOWEVER, my dreams here will hopefully be over shortly, and without too much pain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think that I've suffered enough, for that previous HH88 lifetime, don't all of you? Hey, maybe you're thinking, death is way too good for you. You're right, it is!













WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT

WHAT NEXT













POOR PITIFUL PATHETIC NON-RONSTADT ME!!!!




















My Photo






WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!











Thursday, July 26, 2007











BLOG #6





RATS, TATS, AND PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL --------



Well, they say that nobody likes rats and tattle tails, and these days, a hell of a lot of football players are not exactly on the most-loved list either, huh folks?









NOVEMBER ELEVEN, 2015,

EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 12:34,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 76 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 97% FEELING LIKE 81.

WIND IS CALM, WITH BRIEF SSW GUSTS TO 8.

TUESDAY'S TEMP. RANGE WAS----(H-88/L-72).













My dad and I will be operating the Island Universe Diners of Akoslem; out in the purgatory, now; great people!!! Screw Spanish Treasure Galleons and all secret museums, and secrets of them, huh Mister Weiler Senior?



Whatever you need, Spain has it.

What are you looking for?

To copy this nice whittle photo, Elmer Fudd, for me whittle bwog!
  • CULTURAL
  • GASTRONOMY
  • ROUTES
  • SHOPPING
  • URBAN



OR ''WHATEVER”, huh old buddy Bob Andrews???














This is a really cool website folks; check it out, YO. Hey daddy, screw those secret museums and secrets. My wonderful daughter will have your treasure to worry about soon now; not that she needs it! But hey, Karma!










Quoted from this marvelous web-site:
The custom of going out for tapas is deep-rooted all over Spain. Going out for tapas is a delicious tradition of going from bar to bar and eating small portions, some of them real gastronomic creations, affordable to all.

















Whore Jane Thistleweeds got me with page eleven, again. Let me try to compensate for this water witch bitch, with my 5's!!!





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HOW I FEEL about December of 1969, the chain dream, the giant asterisk vapor trail; and the entire twenty-seven feet of this entire ugly unholy mess, is hard to define, BUTTTTTTTT, I did know even then, that I was not the kid next door by any means, the day before this all happened. Halls fawces, and all the brick walls to come, that prevented me from being within mega light years of normalcy; were already in place. I told a story about the month of February, ten months earlier that year, where I was sitting on the newly built Lindenwold High Speed Line rail system, and suddenly just knew that I existed and that all of this was there behind me. Eventually, I was TOLD this is psychotic delusions. They still tell me this if I am stupid enough to believe this hocus pocus.







SOME MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFF JUST CRASHED MY PROGRAM; FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION BACK BURNER AGENTS AND WORK OUT BOYS, FROM 1988; HUH KAREN AND JOE SIMONS? IF THE FUCKING LAW WOULD PUT PEOPLE AWAY FOR THIRTY YEARS FOR HACKING, IT WOULD STOP; OR GET A LOT BETTER. THE LAW NEEDS TO 'FUCKIGN' CATCH UP TO THE DAM TECHNOLOGY; YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES UP THERE IN WASHINGTON, YO!!!!!!!!! Mike 1971 McNulty, 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?













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!!!!!!!!













''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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!










YOU CAN SHUT UP NOW; ALL DONNA SUMMER'S.







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NOBODY UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND YET!!!

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND YET!!!

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND YET!!!

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND YET!!!

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS SPACE-TIME-MIND YET!!!















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Holy toilet water; DO I HATE MOTHER FUCKING DIRT BAG COMPUTER HACKERS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!






















































My life may be total hell!







BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT; AT LEAST I HAVE A LIFE. I DON'T HAVE ZIP NADA ZILCH NOIT OF A LIFE, THAT I HAVE TO BE SCREWING WITH OTHER 'FUCKIGN' PEEPS; 24-7-365.2422!!!!!!!!!











What can I say here, Mister JAY-JAY-EVANS??? And “There ain't no doubt about it”, Miss Chillie!














Live Camera image from Seaport Hotel

Live Camera from Seaport Hotel, Boston, MA
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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?????





































































END TRANSMISSION.







Sarah Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet

CHAPTER 14













{{{{{((((*** BEGINNING TRANSMISSION.***))))}}}}}

{{{{{((((*** BEGINNING TRANSMISSION.***))))}}}}}

{{{{{((((*** BEGINNING TRANSMISSION.***))))}}}}}






























Vivid dreaming to where it seems more real than being awake, normally means that you either are inside of a doppelganger that is in a localized part of the fifth dimensional hyperspace, or that if in fact this isn't the case, and this wasn't; what normally is happening is what Morianity calls, a ''PULL IN''. This is what UFO BUFFS label in their world, as ABDUCTIONS. This is also what the great Sarah Krassle did to me shortly after my fifteenth birthday, in early December, of 1969, in that wild CHAIN-STOLEN-'DREAM'! Quite obviously it is why my wonderful murder-suicide family member, SIR ARTHUR went bats, and did what he did up in lovely Braintree, Massachusetts, YO BRAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!





















Golly gash gee darn it, 1988 and 1989 Copyright Examiners, and all of Mountainpen's musical projects of those days and times; I sit here wondering, WHAT NEXT, huh gorgeous Judge Judy???????????????????????????????????







The bible says to ask, and your answers will indeed be forthcoming. It does not lie, huh folks????

























The god Psyche Myrathus of the Astral-Plank-Plane's Capitol Province of Olympia, told me through his 'vacationing human self' or dream as Morianity labels his current physical existence; while I was doing guard duty at the great and powerful GRIFFIN PIPE COMPANY, up in Florence Township, in New Jersey, USA; that I have always come here as a tyrant in my past lives. I wrote this a short while back, and a couple of corrections need to amend that blog and its writing, to keep things more accurate. The Ring River and the Myrathus Manor Mountains above and surrounding it, are not in Province Olympia, but one away in a Province whose name escapes my conscious mind at the present. I also screwed up and said there are only three lives according to him, that I am not a major tyrant and beyond evil person in. I meant at the end to say my present life, not the one before it, when as you know, I was a pretty bad little fellow. Still, I can't help who I was in my last lifetime.

JEEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE; lovely awesome Twinbay!































We all are a product of something, and this includes all of the mysterious traits, talents, short comings and a lot more, because of who we are in full-soul, and not just in present-us life-times. Dirt bag Morty Mortino is attacking me, an dis hovering over my left side at 10:42 Ante' Meridian, here on 11-10-2015, Tuesday morning. The DEATH ANGEL is a very fucking annoying dirt ball, if you let him get to you. He lives in a beautiful condo, in the capitol city of the capitol province of the Purg, not the Prug, typo-sahwee; and this is called by many mortals, “HEAVEN”, and is actually in English Earth waking world translation, called, SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, or actually further astrally (spiritually) translated, (CITY OF THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE). Many call this Almighty Being, Jehovah, God, and Jehovah God, or Jehovah Girah, as SKY and JI sound the same astrally, as does LA and RAH. LORD is an ancient word here in waking world biblical times, meaning SAR, and the feminine reality yo all natural truths, is depicted in the word suffix of AH-and this is also the same as ESS, as in Goddess, princess, LORDESS, and SARAH. NEE and STAY are astrally the same sound as well, as in Jehovah NEECEE, or Sarah-Stacey (Lordess Neecy) of the great KRASSLE FAMILY of the PLANK REALM, before this universe became blown out hyperspace through lawtronic power-program, far from being understood by present day physics and science. Morty Mortino has eight names, and these are merely his first name, and last name. His condo is near the top floor of a 397 story building, in SDK (Sahasra Dal Kanwal). I have been there and spoken to him. He is angry because someone in the year 2294, has been retracing me every time he touches me on my left or my right side. I think you all know who that person WAS, and she is not in this century any longer, and basically; can claim credit for how I got not only placed on Social Security Disability in the autumn of 1994, but got on it the very first time that I applied for it. This is an extremely rare occurrence, or so I've been told by everyone who I ever tell that true story to.











          Image result for sheriff ken j. mascaraMy PhotoAttorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi















My beautiful Sarah-Stacey Scylla-Jehovah, brown eyed teen queen, your THAT BOY will love U for ever and ever and ever, I will never let U go. Any time U want to shine your long bright brown hair on top of a mountain 4 me as U did for that idiot Moses, just let me know, and I will B there 4U teen queen!!!!!!!!!!!!



Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Rats, Tats, and Playing Real Football


RATS, TATS, AND PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL, BLOG #5 ---- 072407.639









POOR PITIFUL PATHETIC NON-RONSTADT ME!!!!





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MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR



© 2006-2015 MORIANITY BLOGS AND AMP













Am I wrong Mister Marcucci, Mister Mackey, Misses Marola, and Mister McDowell?

Am I wrong Mister Marcucci, Mister Mackey, Misses Marola, and Mister McDowell?

Am I wrong Mister Marcucci, Mister Mackey, Misses Marola, and Mister McDowell?

















HALL'S WALLS ARE NOT SOME JOKE. EVERY MOTHER FUCKING SERIOUS UFOLOGY BUFF HAS FELT THEM, SEEN THEM, AND EXPERIENCED THEM PERSONALLY. IF YOU THINK MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR IS GOING TO DIE IN SOME FUCKED UP LONELY HEARTS CLUB ON THIS ONE, FOLKS; YOU'RE 'FUCKIGN' CUNT NUTTIER THAN I CAN EVER BE ACCUSED OF BEING, YO YO YO YO. STILL, SHERIFF SIR, THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME TODAY. GREAT JOB. YOU ARE A GOOD MAN, SIR!









People have wondered why I appear to be so timeless. I'm not timeless; the fawces are; and have chosen me, to play this absurd and beyond ridiculous game with. Well, the fawces of Mister Hall can be also translated into the great Almighty teenager, Sarah Krassle. Her game with her THAT-BOY, seems to be infinite and is called, as she named it back when I was dreaming that it was Pearl Harbor Day of 1996, “GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”. Right away, it is a play on words, with two words that sound alike, yet have totally different meanings, and if my English from high school ain't too fucking rusty, these are called homonyms, you know as in the three of them, synonyms, homonyms, and antonyms. I know that antonyms are opposites like day and night and tall and short. I always get those other two confused, and never got an 'A' in my English report cards back at Haddon Township high school. But back then, I doubt I got anything better than 'D' grades, as I never paid attention, and was always off daydreaming in all my classes, just like my wonderful grandmother, my mom's mom, Misses Grace Isabelle Huntington Mason, wife of of my grandpa Leonard John Mason, Assistant Director of Physical Education, at the famous Philadelphia Ivy League, that is called, the University of Pennsylvania. Good old looping digit inverted years, huh Mister Baseball Sportscaster Mister Harry Callas? 1969 and 1996. Both years, major powerful HIE or dreams, with this ALMIGHTY TEENAGED GIRL, SSJKK, and then also, things that led up to my two daughters coming here to this planet. Joseph and Mary and the biblical day prophets had no clue about modern day laboratories and artificial insemination, for crying out goddess dam loud!!!!!!!!!!!! But they knew about DREAMS and messenger angel ESS travelers who gave these DREAMS via PULL-IN ESS methodology. “GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS” was one wild game, and still is and always was and will be. But this 1969-1996 thing is no coincidence either; my people! Now I have got to get about half a dozen movie VHS tapes, smewhere, as in this, lies a lot more answers, from Egg Harbor City and transdimensional multiples of things there from school names and Florida Ponce Deleon tricks, and cupcakes that magically change from chocolate to vanilla with no aid whatsoever from any hip hop or rap music peeps, YO; and diner waitresses telling me there is a bang bang out on me in '96, and many many many many other things, from twins of all kinds!!! BUTTTTTTTT; let me explain this one little thing, regarding HOW I FEEL about December of 1969, the chain dream, the giant asterisk vapor trail; and the entire twenty-seven feet of this entire situation of bizarre total mystery and intrigue. I can do it in a very quick compressed nutshell. No matter what game SSJKK plays with me, I love this goddess so much that I would die and spend eternity in hell for her without winking an eye lash out of place. I would be willing to push a button that would cause a vigintillion universes filled with a vigintillion people in each one of them, to instantly disintigrate to dogshit, if that is what it took to make her god dam fuckiGN love me. She loves playing games with me and alsways has, for ever and for ever and for ever, but I amnot sure if she is even capable of loving me in the same way that I am crazy in love with her, as she is eternally just sixteen years old, and that is very young. She won't ever be anything other than who she is, not in all the days and years of all of our existence, out here in the hyperspace. The PLANK is always there, in a timeless just beyond void condition. This is why Jehovah has said over and over, that I CHANGE NOT, and that I AM THE SAME YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW. She is. This is just who Sarah Krassle truly is. SSJKK my endless love, I will play your GTNOTG game with you, throughout eternity; but I need you to send me a new clue now, to take me further along our game journey; lovely teen-queen!!!!!!!!!!!! Give my very best to all of the great lovely VIQUEENS, you awesome beautiful all powerful GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













SARAH KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET

CHAPTER 10













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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”!!!!!!!!!!***
































































NOVEMBER 10, 2015,

LATE MONDAY MORNING AT 11:33,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 84 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY-------(H-84/L-72).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 91.

PREDICTED HIGH TO 88, FEELING 10 HOTTER.

WIND IS W AT 4, WITH GUSTS TO 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.



END TRANSMISSION.







AMP--------CHAPTER 13



SARAH KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET











Trying to live and survive in HELL is no easy task. I am the only one here who seems to know they are in this place. A good possibility for this, Mister Carter sir, is that all the players around my Shakespearean arena are merely what the Hollywood crowd would call, 'EXTRAS'. Still, I have heard it said for thirteen thousand years, near or not near great wild fences, that there is no escape from this 'condition', notice I didn't say 'place'.



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Most of you can relate very well to one particular thing in my life, and don't even think about god dam lying to me about it, anybody, please, at least have that much respect for this pathetic piece of total turd eating shit! All of us have things happen in our lives, should we live long enough, that we remember way more vividly in our conscious mind, than other larger collections of other biological mind data (our human memories). I may have a few more than the average person who have also lived six plus decades on this planet, but the one that springs t mind right now is telling President Jimmy Carter that I was dead, and then jumping over a boardwalk railing and down onto a beach, in a dream of course. BUTTTTTTT, one hell of a wild and vivid one, if I may add here, my great people.













It has finally dropped under eighty dam degrees, holding at 78, at 13 minutes shy of midnight, as I come towards the end of a Monday, the ninth day in November, of 2015. The day after tomorrow is one of Darius Evans' fave days. Visit his great site on Youtube by hitting the search box there, typing in “DEEZY SLIM”. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Don't ever say I never plugged you, old pal D.E. And then there was Benjamin Caplan from Philly, and the other DE, back in 1976. Now that is something that is beyond unbloggable, just like a lot of shit between me and my kid is, if I want to stay healthy at all.









I will be saying some things about my time in Florida and how in my opinion, this BAD-25-TRIP was planned from decades ago, when I was here before at the tail end of 1983, in Orlando, with my Chief Recording Engineer, Mister Howard Solomon, from the RPL SOUND STUDIOS, of Camden, New Jersey! Several mysterious things happened while I was staying at his Orlando home for about three or four days. One is a memory fuck up, as I have almost a perfect photographic memory of my entire life back to the very day I came out of my mom's dam loins and saw the snow coming down outside of th eBryn Mawr, Pennsylvania hospital window! Yet, I do not have much clear recall to that trip, other than when I spoke to three individuals. One was a strange man who 'popped up' at Howard's little roadside restaurant. Another was a Publix Employee in town, when Howard and I went shopping and I purchased a one pound bag of plain M&M Candies. The third was an awesome gorgeous young chick at an office, who fell for me like a ton of bricks, yet Howard insisted she did not like me at all and that I had imagined it, and told me with some decent amount of fervor. When I feel like telling this, you will know more about a connection to the great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE, from back up north. But, as with heaven, this can all wait, to quote most mortals. No one is ever one bit to anxious to go to heaven. I never met a dam soul who was. They believe, but they are not in any hurry to get to this dam awesome place. This reminds me of a lawyer who was one of the clients of my RPL job while I was employed there between late July of 1979 and middle March of 1981. He said and I quote, “Pain is a window into hell. Suffering is the work of the devil”. Why does this make me think of that, you wonder? In a very brief and condensed way, just allow me to say this much for right now, please. Faith in a Supreme Entity is sort of that window, only we substitute hell with heaven. Life for the vast majority, here on this Earth, entails a great deal of suffering. Only a hand picked few on this planet have magical lives like Donald Trump. He knows it, and we all know it. So we suffer and we suffer, and we wonder, and I wonder; why then is no one ever EVER in any hurry at all, to go to HEAVEN, and be rid of “THE DEVIL” forever and ever and ever? Hey, don't ask me, and I won't ask any of you for dam crissake. Another WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!



END TRANSMISSION.

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