Sunday, November 29, 2015

CHAPTER 2, CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD











Sunday, November 29, 2015, 7:55 Post Meridian, EST.











CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD







CHAPTER 2, (AMP-CEMB).















My entire audience has dried up. It amazes me that it happened after my view-count hit 100K. If they were going to fuck with me, logic would dictate they would have trickled it to a crawl after 95 or 98 K somewhere. Things like this however have built in teachers and professors all their own. I realize that things are not being done in any way, in three-D. Further, I also know that this may very well be happening, as the old poker game double blind bluff trick, just to make me think and wonder about that very thing, and thus if successful, annoy me even worse because in addition to the item that annoys, comes the fact that is ain't fuckiGN logical. Then they succeed in their game of obfuscation. That is if I am dumb enough to allow these dim witted mother fuckers to get to me! Also, nothing around any holiday time, can make any real sense. Initially, the M-2-F seemed to not care about their own lives and families on holidays, and this topic has been thoroughly discussed on many past blogs in my Morianity. Still, there are double blind and even triple blind bluff experts in professional poker, so why not 'Corbomite me', Captain William Shatner Kirk, with one of those? To quote quite perfectly, my father, and Dawn-Marie King, SHEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!! As I fucking speak-type at 8:06 Post Meridian, my right side is being passed by Morty Mortino Dirtbags Incorporated, the great and powerful Angel of Death! Two DA's that nobody wants to start trouble with, huh folks?











There is Tom Reale the chill-mo, and then there is just the CHILL of Alaska. WOW, give me the latter one, pweeeeeeeze, people!







Ski the West







Boy oh boy oh boy, Mom, and Moomy Deaest.












Later on, we can get to how the venetian blinds, the episode on the show called, ''THE TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES'', and a bit more, and NOW is the later on from the past. Screw people, I need my own record, and this blog makes a great new age fucking cunt way of keeping one!















I can literally talk for weeks on end straight, and not begin to cover this whole nineties thing with SARAH KRASSLE, how it began at middle decade, how my book ''THE PERMISSION BARRIER'' fits into it, and a zillion fucking zillion other things too. But let's go to Pearl Harbor day in 1996, about two years and one month give or take a week or so, from the time I sent my book to the Copyright Office, TPB, on Halloween Day of 1994. This is the time that I was beyond being totally beside myself and bonkers nuts even for me. I tried desperately hard to locate this girl who just had to be there, after-all, I was right there, and so was she, and the world told me they never knew her. Well, you know, that sounds like our wonderful GOD. Remember that scripture that basically says that if we deny GOD and its plan of salvation or game, that JESUS or GOD jacked into its game, will say back to us after we die and face eternity, “Depart from me, I never knew you”????????? It's in your bibles, and if you can't find it, ask your fucking pastor in church next week, and he or she will show it to you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









My mother fuckiGN annoying nabes are making loud banging sounds and annoying me to fucking death. Just a few minutes before I began this blog, that loud fuckign jerk off scum ball on the motorcycle went by and made every fog in this part of town start barking. Then a few minutes later, a loud door banged on my floor here. Are you out here anywhere, Sheriff Mascara, old friend? I saw you on the news a couple days back. I am very happy to see you enjoying the holiday over at the PHA place.









That night, watching those Star Trek shows, while living at 112 Harvard Avenue, Somerdale, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in 1996, in the autumn on the 30th Anniversary of their TELEVISION SHOW PRODUCTION LAUNCH; memories flooded in that I could not handle, leading to the wild dreams the following year of the Publishing Clearinghouse's PCN-231 PRIZE-PATROL truck with that co-ed named K. J. McAllister, who won that January of 1997; and then the wild song that led to the 2012 production and 2013 Copyright of ''Wanna' Spend My Time'', the fence at Eden's great garden, and a lot more. This is when I was looking nearby the television set, little as it may have been Mizz Britney Lavino, and Mister Stanley Crooked Bernstein; and as that great voted-number-1 episode of STAR TREK was airing, suddenly a voice kept saying while I was staring off of the TV set and onto my venetian blinds, “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”. In any event, where can we even begin with all of this horrible nightmare shit, Sheriff sir, after these monsters took away my entire life, child and adult, ruined my entire mother fuckign education, thre me into an institution at ten years of age for doing nothing at all wrong or criminal, the great an dnow defunct NJNPI in Princeton, New Jersey, USA, sir; killed my mother late in 1997, killed my best an donly adult friend Dave Roth in March of 2002, an di could type on an don an don, as if you could care in the least, kind sir, you and Prosecutor Ron Worthless Wirtz!!! As I said sir, this is why people eventually fuckign snap, and do shit like the Colorado deal, and on and on and on and on! The old trustworthy Milituforce Word-Disappearing mother fuckign hack was just used on me illegally, in total violation of MY CIVIL AND HUMAN LIBERTIES sir, as a totally born free and legal citizen of this rotten nation, SIR!









It is 64 degrees at half past eight on this Sunday evening, 29 November, in 2015. Tuesday begins the final 12th month of the year, good old December, where we have my birthday on Friday, Pearl Harbor Day a week from tomorrow or two Monday's ahead on now, and of course, three weeks following my birthday, as it does every year, comes the one and only GAP Christmas Day. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!









And no one gives a mother fuckiGN rats ass about why those venetian blinds, and that Star Trek show, made those words keep popping into my head, on that late autumn 1996 evening,



Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”

Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”

Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”

Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”

Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Well fine and dandy. It was the fact that the great almighty PINK GODDESS was letting me know, there was no escape for me, not ever!!! I don't want to escape, you lovely teen-queen.



END TRANSMISSION.

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