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???
Spanish
Treasure Galleons, and all secret museums, and secrets of them; yes
sir, old coworker and pal, Roy Carl Weiler Senior, at Cifaloglio, and
resident of Egg Harbor City, on Philadelphia Avenue, and curator of
the Round
House Museum, up north a mile or so near the great Detention Center
they call Harborfields.
So
why did Ann and Dawn King laugh all that time, and watch me sleuth
around, thinking this was not a real place,
and knowing full well that it 'wasHINGTON' was,
without Microsoft
Corporation smart programs,
or crooks up on a hill who sold 99 percent of us down the river
decades and decades ago????????????????? Well in any case, you might
wish to purchase the great book that my old pal wrote called, Secrets
Of The Museum, by Roy Carl Weiler Senior. It is available on Amazon,
and all over the net and the real world book stores in real world
shopping malls, everywhere. Oh yes sir, you told me some really cool
fucking tales, Roy. Like WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Please
stop imprisoning me in lighthouses and water company properties, oh
great and powerful Mizz Martinez; to quote your coworker back around
the turn of the century somewhere; while he was heading across the
street to get his feast on with 'Mister Bagman', at the great cool
delicious Checkers place. Here comes Mister Morty dirtbag Mortino
now, again on my right side passing me, annoying me, at 11:23 on this
god dam Friday morning, November the thirteenth, 2015, YO
Bagman.
There
are too many worms in that water company site to try to paste their
photo in, over in Atlantic City; my kind viewer people out there, YO.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet,
CHAPTER
20
Yes,
you got it people; the great and powerful non-OZ Copyright Office,
has all of this evidence tucked away in my music project files, UP
THERE in good old wonderful WASHINGTON, in the great and powerful
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA. Oh Poolroy, go
home
already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
''I
DON'T WANNA' FUCKING HEAR IT''; NEW KIDS!
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
The
enemies crashed the program AGAIN. Ever mother fuckign since I copied
that little bit of shit from that web-site on SPAIN, this hacking has
been major. Before I copied it with my Picasa-3 Program, a window
popped fuckign up about being sure I trust the site before doing
this. I guess I should have been more mother fuckign leary, FBI, as
this site is loaded with cunt chewing fucking dam worms and viruses,
and now it is too late, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you guys made it
illegal to do this and backed it up by putting these hacking animal
scum away for a generation, THIS MIGHT SLOW TO A TRICKLE OR EVEN STOP
ALL TOGETHER, YO YO YO YO. PUMP THAT DAM IRON, UP THERE IN THE PHILLY
OFFICE, YO, AND TO HELL WITH ME DOWN HERE, IN HOT ASS FORT PIERCE,
SWELTERING FLORIDA, USA!!!!!!!!!!!
SARAH
KRASSLE OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET!
NOVEMBER
13, 2015,
LATE
FRIDAY MORNING AT 11:49
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 85 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-85/L-68).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 63%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 90.
WE
ARE NOW AT THE PREDICTED HIGH OF 85.
WIND
IS CALM, WITH SMALL N GUSTS TO 4.
I
post this weather info because Their Weather Bug App is so great, and
so I now am able to say, that here is the accurate weather info, and
why???????BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
BECAUSE
I ABSOLUTELY KNOW.
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.
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.
If
only a boat, a small little boat, could only take me away.
Away
to a land, a beautiful land, 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?
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
SARAH
KRASSLE
OWNS AND RULES THIS PLANET.
I
have the most incredible fucking shit happen to me, and only a god
dam ass fucking hand full of people are interested. It proves to many
a lot of huge things, such as a totally controlled media and
entertainment system, not by government that is out of the closet,
but by shadow government that is super stealthy with frightening
powerful evil agendas to make total slaves out of all the very poor
majority, unless we stand up and fight some day, some how. Here I am
telling shit so huge it would alter the fuckiGN universe, and make
life better if someone would agree to help. But no, give me a few
lousy views when I tell the greatest shit imaginable, while the
controlled media who is behind what goes viral online and what stays
in the shadows of their total control, shows a nonsensical Youtube
posting of a girl doing a weird flip onto her bed, and it ends up
with fourteen mega views overnight. Why? Because this entire thing is
being totally manipulated and controlled to match their agenda system
on dumbing down society until we don't even realize we have become
their total fuckign slaves. I know that Judge Judy sees shit my way,
and you know, I take great solace in that, as well as blissful
relaxation, that at least I am not alone,and that the more
intellectuals amongst us at least, are seeing exactly what is mother
fuckiGN going on all around us, YO!!!! Their controlled literature
even makes you add the word to the dictionary of “DUMBING”-DOWN.
This is because THEY don't even want this word used, in that dam
context, by us few who see exactly what is happening all over this
stupid new age of total controlled hell that is agereed to by these
morons in their own universe, all over everywhere, all aged, young
and old alike, with their dam online phones and all this hocus pocus
totally abnormal and unnatural fuckiGN pig shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You'll never ever make me join your Wesley
Crusher Next-Gen
STAR-TREK 'GAME'.
This is perhaps one of the biggest items, and connections of all; to
this ultimate FUCKING GAME,
you know, the GTNOTG
GAME,
of December
7, 1996,
told to me by none other than the Almighty
Krassle-Lord!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA,
AND A DOLLAR THREE EIGHTY AN HOUR WAGES AT THE CHURCH FARM PRINT
SHOP, RIGHT MISTER MIKE MCNULTY????????? HOW WOULD YOU SAY THAT ON TH
EFOLLOWING YEAR SO PERFECTLY WELL, OLD PAL BOB MCDOWELL AT COOLEY
WORMHOLE HALL, “JOHNNY FUCKER FASTER IS AT 100 MILES AN HOUR NOW,
AND THIS INDEED IS VELY VELY INTELESTING”? Morty Mortino has been
lurking all fuckiGN day over my right shoulder. This is ridiculous,
Mister Mack Kaiter, of Camp Chesapeake, Maryland, back in 1967 and
1968, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet,
CHAPTER
19
Holy
Moley Call-Ten Callio, I want to tell just a tad bit more now, about
what nearly eighteen years of my becoming aware of the great GTNOTG
FUCKING GAME (Finding Ultimate Clues KING of all games),
the one and only (GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS)
F.U.C. KING GAME!!!!!! Funny-funny-funny, AHA-AHA, Sheila
Franklin Longhair, and Michael McNulty of 1968 and 1971. WOW!THERE IS
NO CONNECTION OF COURSE, TO KING ENTERTAINMENT
GARBAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
oh great disco diva of late, Mizz Donna Adrian Gaines Summer; to
quote your very enlightening idea from three plus decades back into
time, sweetie pie; watch that:
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”
The
game of GTNOTG,
is quite different from Monopoly, and Sorry, and Parcheesi, and
Chess, and more physical ones, such as Baseball, Football, Tag,
running in competition, and so forth. This
is because this game was given to me, IN A POWERFUL I-CHING TRANCE,
on Pearl Harbor Day of 1996, or on 7
December, 1996
Yes,
you got it people; the great and powerful non-OZ Copyright Office,
has all of this evidence tucked away in my music project files, UP
THERE in good old wonderful WASHINGTON.
|
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On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
I
have been repressing some wild memories of my previous
trip to Florida, when I came down
to Orlando, to visit with my old
boss at RPL, Mister Solomon. I think I have also been
hiding some memories of that powerful and awesome experience that
I had on 1996's Pearl Harbor Day, just shy of 5 AM back here on
waking reality planet Earth. We'll get into a little bit of this
on this blog, kind folks.
Jane
fucking Stinkweeds Poisonpiss almost got me, with her page eleven
mother fuckiGN shit, but I caught it just in the nick of both time
and tire rim mallets. HA-HA-HA you water witch!
All
I can say in order to best get and keep your attention about that
game, that was shown to me, by the Almighty, in a powerful
(Spiritual Vision) (I-CHING TRANCE), (Vivid Dreaming Experience),
and words are so inadequate on so many dam occasions, folks; is
that several key parts of what I clearly remember now, and always
have since this happened, need to be better scrutinized and
examined under a powerful philosophical microscope if you will,
kind peeps!!! This involved several items. 1)
THE
HOTEL THAT MY MOM AND I VACATIONED AT IN ATLANTIC CITY CALLED
TRINIDAD, A TOTAL OF EIGHT TIMES, THAT NOW QUITE WEIRDLY
COINCIDENTALLY IS CALLED THE SUPER-8, AS IN THOSE NUMBER OF STAYS
AND MY BEING SO CLOSE TO A TRULY ''SUPER GIRL'', AND NOT SOME TV
OR MOVIE PHONY. 2)
AN ACTRESS NAMED MARY TYLER MOORE, AS WELL AS A VERY PARTICULAR
SHOW OUT OF MANY, THAT SHE WAS FAMOUS FOR STARING IN NEARLY HALF A
CENTURY AGO NOW, AND MORE THAN A QUARTER OF A CENTURY BACK FROM
WHEN THIS ALL TOOK PLACE, ON PEARL HARBOR DAY OF 1996, AND THIS
ONE EPISODE ON THIS MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW ABOUT A GREEN DRESS WHEN
SHE BEFRIENDED A PROSTITUTE AFTER BEING PUT IN JAIL HERSELF ON
SOME NEWS REPORTER ITEM, IF MEMORY IS AT ALL SERVING ME
ACCURATELY. 3)
THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE TALKING TO ME ON TENNESSEE AVENUE, RIGHT
THERE WHERE MCGUIRE'S HOTEL IS ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE STREET,
AND OPPOSITE OF THAT, IS THE TRINIDAD; OR NOW, THE SUPER-8 MOTEL
CHAIN. 4)
A BALCONY THAT MARY TYLER MOORE WAS STANDING ON THAT FACED
TENNESSEE ABENUE, IN HER FAMOUS GREEN DRESS, AS SHE STARED DOWN AT
SARAH AND ME, AND NEVER AT ANY TIME IN THIS WORLD HERE, WAS THERE
A BALCONY ALONG THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE HOTEL, OTHER THAN THE PART
THAT HAD ROOMS FACING OUT TO THE POOL, FURTHER WEST. THEN WITHIN A
FEW SHORT YEARS AFTER DECADES OF THIS HOTEL HAVING A LOT OF ROOM
BALCONIES, THEY WERE ALL TAKEN DOWN, AS THOUGH THEY NEVER WERE
THERE. SARAH WAS POINTING UP AT MARY TYLER MOORE IN THAT WILD
''PULL-IN'' OR WHATEVER IT TRULY WAS, AND THEN SAID TO ME, “HEY
BOY, LET'S PLAY A GAME CALLED GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”.
Some
may scoff and say this is me making mountains out of silly little
insignificant mole hills, and you're entitled to that screwed up
opinion. For those more enlightened souls who by now absolutely
know there is something beyond ultra gargantuan going on with all
of tis in my life since 1965 when I first encountered this great
goddess as a little girl in my present-me lifetime; I know that I
can say to you the following statement. For real true
super-sleuths everywhere, precious and not so precious, in and out
of 1972, Babylon, New York, or anywhere in the dam multiverse for
that matter; YOU
KNOW THAT THESE FOUR ITEMS ARE A GREAT BIG BUNCH OF THINGS TO WORK
WITH.
Many times the great Law & Order detectives have far less to
go on, and they end up solving some really cool murder cases that
the ADA then goes onto successfully prosecute. WOW, old Morty
Mortino the death angel is passing by my right side, at 28 minutes
past midnight, here on 13 November of 2015, early Friday morning,
here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA!
NOVEMBER
13, 2015,
EARLY
FRIDAY MORNING, AT 12:33,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 73 DEGREES FNHT.
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 96%, FEELING LIKE 77.
WIND
IS GUSTING E TO 9, MOSTLY HOLDING CALM.
Remember
folks that the same people in 1984, were there all around me, in
1983. They were there in 1980. They were there in 1975. They were
there in 1972. They were there in 1969. And yes folks, they were
there in 1965 in late June, when I was BROUGHT by powerful unseen
FAWCES, to 10-SC AVENUE, for th every first time, to be destined
or whatever, to meet and come to know in a very strange way, the
great Almighty SARAH KRASSLE.
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So
let us talk here seriously, and without wasting a lot of flowery
words or each other's time; about where to even begin the careful
examination, of super-sleuthing
around this
'GTNOTG'
F.U.C. KING GAME.
First,
tying in several facts and shit was going on in my life during the
time of that wild experience, back on 12/07/1996, is of course a
total must, as any amateur detective would know right away, let alone
a really good super-sleuth. Let me be a bit more specific. I was in
what I was told by so-called experts, a ''mid-life crisis''. This was
far from th edam ass truth, but going with it to keep the misses
Marola types happy in so far as her 1969 ideas about majorities have
to be right, totally in violation of the Lottery Laws of Reality; but
still, there were no lotteries quite yet played legally in America,
and she wasn't always as ahead of the curves of all things as she
would have us all believe, perhaps, huh IBM-HAL? This ''mid-life
supposed crisis'', was about me remembering some shit from my past,
here we go again with more memories being repressed, and then later
retrieved, JEEEEEEZ-LOUISE. I never forgot Atlantic city, the
Trinidad hotel, Sarah, or any of it, but it is normal to grow up and
leave shit from the days of childhood and adolescence behind; and I
did just that, believe it or not; shit, me being normal for a change,
like triple dam WOW, Mister R. H. Macy-'3/4', YO.
This
was no mother fucking mid life crisis, even if the outward
appearances did in fact mimic the symptoms of some such situation.
Involved in all of this were many powerful items, and many things
that would frighten the bravest soldiers on any dam battlefield the
world over, IPYT. People such as that Glendora psychic thief Paula
Uwich and her Braxton Sister friends, Kathy at the other psychic shop
in Runnemede, New Jersey, called ''The Gathering Place'' where
Rubber-Repair-Boy, the sixteen year old Nick Cannon, damaged my
vehicle, two miles or less down the road from the GAP Haddonwood
health Club in 1996, at this Gathering Place, in June right before my
road trip to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with Mister David Charles Roth;
on my quest to locate the great SSJKK, back in its infancy. I have
not even started to discuss zillions of characters that all were
involved in this horrendous mess back then, nor does time permit to
to tonight, as I have one more medical appointment tomorrow in the
middle afternoon, and it is already past my bed-time, kind folks.
Remember that the waitress at the Egg Harbor diner told me that there
was a contract out on my life, scaring my poor mother out of her wits
when we went into have a brunch that afternoon when we were driving
around looking for a place to record my song that I had just written
a few months back on the twelfth of May, “SARAH”. The entire
state of New Jersey had been 'Trumanized' to not let me do the
recording, and no one would ever fucking believe me if I told the
entire nasty sick demonic story from fuckiGN cunt 'A' to fuckign cunt
'Z', and yes, just
dwelling on it now, more than 19 years in the future to then; makes
get extremely mother fuckiGN angry as all shit from
hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Eventually,
my own studio where I worked, is where I ended up doing SARAH.
Well,
keep your minds out of the fuckiGN gutter folks; I meant doing the
dam song!
Good old RPL didn't let me down. But I had the entire world seem to
come against me, when all I wanted to do was to sing over some
fucking keyboard music I had done, writing that song. The
forces of HELL ITSELF
literally reared their ugly mother fucking head like nothing in my
entire life that I ever had seen, not before, and not since; and
that is the honest to the gods total fucking truth, peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I swear on my Huntington Curse and my family from
hell!!!!!!!!!!
I
just want those who know, and there are about half a dozen of them
out here somewhere in this world; those who totally know my pain and
agony and hell is 100% real and not mental illness, or imagined in
any way. They also know that something has been done to me, that I
have been targeted; and that my entire life was wrecked and ruined,
worse than if I had been put into prison after leaving fucking high
school, for the rest of my dam miserable fucking life. I want you to
know that I know you are there, and that you read me on blog sites.
The ones who know that what is being done to me, goes beyond inhuman,
and that if I could ever prove to the world, what American power has
been permitted to legally do to me, for reasons only they totally
understand and get; that this nation would be exposed as the
hypocrite it is, when they go shouting about being the world's cops,
and world's great freedom fighters, human rights advocates, and so
on. It is the biggest fuckiGN hoax and crock of shit since the ice
caps melted, and this current civilization began. I can only take
solace in the fact that there really is a KARMA,
and many have seen this work and operate. The
scriptures say it as, ''we'll reap what we sow''.
It is not a perfect balance in three dimensions or in any one single
lifetime, although it can for many, appear to be that way. Others
like me, have tried all their dam life, to do the right thing, and
have worked very hard; and ended up totally fuckiGN screwed, with
nothing, no one who cares, no money, losing what little I had to
horrific monster welfare rat con artists, enemies who hate me without
reason or cause all over the fuckiGN planet, and this is only
scratching the mother fucking dick licking surface of MARK WAYNE
MOUNTAINPEN'S HELL ON EARTH!!!!
So
who is Sarah Krassle, and what really is going on in the
PLANK-PURGATORY?
First, to those of the world of astrophysics, PLANK is that wild
unknown ''WHATEVER'' that magically and mysteriously lies in-between
the void non dimensional truth of nothingness, and where we all exist
today after the ''big-bang''. To those who in some way or another
belong to the belief systems that make up some part or the entire
roman Catholic Church System, this is PURGATORY. To those in the
psychic and mystic game, they have a term more fitting with their
world, the Astral Plane. The majority merely use th eword spirit or
spiritual, and yet, it all is one item that so many see and believe
with lots and lots of various words and visual conceptions, and so
forth. Why throughout recorded history, have some seem to have been
chosen, to be in various levels of direct 'contact', with this
entire, 'whatever' it all truly is; is the ultimate hyper-time
Shakespearean question. The Moses's, the Joan of Ark's, the Jonah's,
the Apostles of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, Joseph Smyth, Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, and the list is much longer than anyone would
even imagine, but still, the question is there; oh wonderful great
Jimmy; “WHY, WHY WHY WHY”?????????????
When
Moses did what Jehovah commanded and managed to get the chosen people
out of the bondage of the Babylonian Pharaoh, this IS AND WAS A PART
OF JEHOVAH KRASSLE'S GREAT GAME, the GTNOTG. All of these things are.
Still, it gets way too complicated for me to just think that I can
get away with saying one simple overall generalized statement such as
that, and then all of this five thousand year game would suddenly
become crystal clear, to all the populations of the Planet Earth.
Believing that, would be the epitome of huberous on my part, without
a doubt! I will therefore take a lot of things, and try to step by
step; work them into some upcoming blogs, that will better reveal
just how this utterly fantastic, and mind bending game, of this mind
bending goddess, Sarah Krassle is using her brain blowing GTNOTG
GAME, on anyone who is truly honestly searching for answers, truths,
and doing so with a pure and open heart.
Yes,
I will go on more and more, super-sleuthing HER marvelous and mind
bending game of GTNOTG. At first, I thought that maybe SHE wanted her
THAT-BOY as she always calls me in Sahasra Dal Kanwal, in my truer
Astral identity there of Zeranniss Arthur Yancy Jones; to become
adept and skilled in distinguishing ESS travelers, AKA T-3-E, who are
indeed inside of their parallel universe doubles (doppelgangers),
right here in our waking reality world, and with powerful agendas.
They have taken over our entire world, the powerful super nation
governments, the global economic systems, the entertainment mind
controlling systems, (movies, music, Hollywood-America, retailer
billionaires and fad controllers, sports and politics division of
entertainment, all cable and network television, banking and control
to bless and curse whoever they wish to, and this list could go on
quite extensively). Through as few as 500 or so agents of ESS,
operating in our universe, made of of multiversal dream traveler
type-3-exploratrons folks, they have totally invaded us, and
successfully infiltrated us a long time ago. This world has changed,
and I live with people who are completely blinded and deafened to
this reality all around them. But my pal, Mister Edward Snowden
knows, as this ESS also controls our covert black-file agencies and
our military powers too, 100%, (BFA). So maybe my job in this post
Joseph Smyth time era now, is indeed to try and figure out just how
these ESS T-3-E are operating, who they all are, what they
infiltrated, and how to maybe eventually find weaknesses, and expose
this entire gigantic plot. This makes more sense than anything else
that I can possibly speculate about, in so far as what my role in
this game may be, that SSJKK wants me to play with her, while I am in
present dream down off of the Astral-Plane, as Mark Mohr. Now I can
be right, and I can be wrong; but there is something about the
Somerdale house I lived in from late in August of 1996 through April
of 1998, that also is a major clue, to be sleuthed out here. Just a
day ago when I shut down my computer, it went into those dumb
updates, and the system has thousands of things and numbers flash on
too quickly to even see, but I had it all go through and yet when I
went up again, one out of these many thousands and tens of thousands
of update numbers was being done again, number 112. This was my
address in that Somerdale house that I was talking about on a lot of
recent prior blogs. Also, if you remember; I had asked Sarah Krassle
for another clue. I believe SHE gave this one to me. In all the time
I have had this Walmart Computer since the beginning of 2011, that
never happened before with those machine registry updates. Taking all
of that together, and I know I have to look in this direction. This
is where I lived when I met Paula Uwich, who swindled me out nearly
ten grand. Still, she did have some real power, and even managed to
scream out my name at me while I was DREAMING. She also promised me a
major DREAM before the year was out, with SARAH, and sure enough,
along came Pearl Harbor Day. Laugh all you want to folks, but that
experience of 12/07/1996 was worth the 92 hundred dollar expense into
the pocket of Paula the Psychic. She told me once that Sarah was in
prison. Yeah, and she was too. Then she asked me about the Braxton
peeps and told me they are involved with this somehow. I never told
her a dam thing about my music, or anyone in the music bizz. Again
folks,I could take this on
and on and on,
and time just doesn't permit that, as it's six minutes past two now,
and I am very tired, so let me post up, and crash, folks, tanks, YO!
On
and on, not an DON!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet,
CHAPTER
18
It
really seems to take the installers and maintenance people a long
time to complete this project on a 95 apartment total building, and
they still are not done. They woke me at opening bell of the stock
market again today. I don't care, as long as I know what is
happening. For a long while, I was being given a lot of magical
Jerry, Sue, and Mashell car theft run-arounds, and didn't know what,
why, who, about any of it. I don't feel very well, and have had pain
all night, dull but there, making my sleep troubled. I may not have a
lot of time left, so it is time for me to pick up the dam pace to the
story of all of Morianity, and AMP, and maybe beyond this as well.
On
Blogger since January 2006
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MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
The
game of GTNOTG is quite different from Monopoly, other
card games and board games, computer games, sports games,
competitions, contests, even head games we all play, with my late mom
at the top of that list, as President and founder of that society and
club. But GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS really truly stands alone, in
a class all by itself, the quintessential suigenerous game of all
games. The true FINDING ULTIMATE
CLUES game if you will, and this even
symbolically acts to vent some of my anger as a victim that this game
has forced me to be. This king of all games, does in fact
automatically crown itself to be the KING
of any and all games, because all other things, as well as games;
when you look hard on it all; are all rapped up inside of the
''GTNOTG'' GAME. So this FUCKING GAME or Finding Ultimate Clues KING
GAME, (FUCKING-GAME) is quite an incredible entity, and hey why not;
as it was given to me on 12/07/96, by quite an incredible entity.
All
throughout my entire life, people who I am basically clueless about,
have managed to alter my life in ways so huge it is not even
bloggable by Motor-Mouth Mountainpen. The latest motley crew would be
the people I lived with from middle late summer time of 2008 until
the early middle part of December in 2009, when I managed to escape
them with just the fucking clothes on my back, and thus, ended up in
Florida, where ever since that, I have been trapped in and totally
imprisoned. Even more recent taking me to very present time circa
called the here and the now, was the wild employee bunch while I
worked up at the Harvest Outreach place, on 25th Street
and Orange Avenue, about a mile west of my building here, their
web-site is as follows:
However
folks, right now, as I may be almost out of time where I can type and
use this machine, depending on just what I have, and just how sick I
get as a result; I need to sort of move up a planned and slated
schedule of my final blogging project, so to speak. Allow me
therefore please, to proceed accordingly, kind ladies and kind
gentlemen!!!
I
have been repressing some wild memories of my previous
trip to Florida, when I came down
to Orlando, to visit with my old
boss at RPL, Mister Solomon. I am getting some weird hacking
as I begin this paragraph. I wonder fucking why? Strange FUCKING
GAMES, from strange unknowable FUCKING GAME PLAYING PEOPLE,
HMM! Yes, the first of three strange people, who I encountered as a
result of being at three different places around Orlando, Florida;
with Mister Howard Solomon, in December of 1983; could totally 100%
fit the bill of being GUESTS that I wouldn't mind being able to
correctly guess. I may have known who they were back then enough to
carry on conversations, and properly be able to interact with them,
but you know what I mean. Looking back in hindsight from the here and
the now; I mean I wish I could somehow through gifted omniscience,
have known just exactly who they really were, and what they really
wanted in so far as their interactions with me, because this was no,
hey, hows it goen, and nice weather we're having, kind of average
conversations! Not by any stretch of the mind. And not just that, but
there was a lot more going on than just me speaking to these three
individuals, and how it connects things from just a couple months
later in time in early 1984, all the way up to right this very dam
ass second, YO!
The
girl was the second of the three of these folks, followed the next
day, by the dude who showed up at Howard's road-stand eats place. The
very first was the very first night with Howey at his driveway, after
purchasing some candy in a glass jar, and I klutzed out and dropped
it all over his driveway, and he freaked as if I had just started
another war between the dam states or something. But we are going to
only concentrate on the middle event, and by the way, it was at the
store where I had purchased this candy, a one pound net weight
without the glass jar, of plain M&M's Candy, at a Publix Store,
that only recently, I have pulled back from lost memories, the sign
above it, saying PUBLIX, and it was an employee there, and what he
said, but as I said; we will get to this as well as the dude at
Howey's eats-Place, later. Fr right now, this is about the wild girl
at a very wild office that seemed to combine a trucking place, with a
life insurance company, and I mean that this was off the dam wall
super dam weird; even with, and for my threshold, of 'weird'.
The
entire time that Howard was speaking to a man at this strange weird
place, I was being asked questions about New Jersey from this girl
who was employed as a receptionist there, an dshe was told that
Howard and I were indeed from there, and she began inocently enough,
but she was quite infatuated with me and practically asked me out on
a date, maybe she even sdid. I was very imature at age 29 years, and
I never dated. Also, even later in the autumn of 1984 or maybe early
winter in 1985, I had a similar experience where I did not realize I
was even being asked out, until months later, if not over a year. She
had said to me, “Are you busy after work”. I thought that she
just was curious if I was busy. That is how fucking socially
immature, and life skills ignorant I was; from attending special
education schools, and having no family or father or friends of any
caliber, that would have helped me in that area; and so I was as
ignorant, and totally babyish, as many six year olds! This is just
the fuckiGN truth, so why fuckiGN bother to lie about it and act all
ashamed of fuckiGN shit, that never was my fault to begin with? I
never asked for my screwed up and totally fuckiGN twisted life; you
know, folks!
So
back to being at this weird place that haunted me in serial and
recurring type of ''dreams'' and even still does maybe once or twice
annually. So, after this girl flirts with me big time; despite Howey
telling me later that I am fulla more turds than a room filled with
food eating contestants; I never again said BOO about this to Howey.
You all know me, I like to try to keep peacefulness around me as much
as possible, unlike my crazy late head game playing mom. But moving
this along now, after that girl finished flirting around with me like
crazy, she told me she would be back in a few minutes, but when Howey
and I left about ten minutes later, she still had not returned to her
area where she seemed to be sort of like a receptionist, as in those
day the ladies did a lot of that type of work in offices, just like
many of my moms coworker-friends, such as Phyllis Hillock, and Grace
Mears, and some others; up at her Philly company, called Lavino
Shipping; that later became the Inchcape Shipping, after being taken
over by a British firm, late last century sometime.
While
I sat in this extremely comfortable waiting area couch, I dozed off
after not getting much sleep the night before in Howey's house, and
not being happy overall, and filled with usual life problems, you
know, SOSO-WEIN-SSDD! Suddenly, I was awake (in my short burst
dream), an da lady came out who was twice the age of the original
girl who was at that front desk area, and she asked me questions that
made no sense. In a super compressed nutshell, this place had turned
into an insurance company. I was being canceled for having three
medical conditions, and was there to discuss my life insurance. In
reality, I had no life insurance then, not even that mickey mouse
little policy that Bob Riches from the Prudential Insurance Company,
would go onto talk me into purchasing in 1985. But things get very
super ultra outlandish as I move this on from here. There are tons of
things that connect the real life world with the dream that I had
quickly fallen into, and this can be attempted to be tackled at some
later time. I was told to come in, and I sat down at a desk and given
the name of this lady who I remembered very well, but never will be
able to consciously pull that name up, I just feel it so strongly
that I'd be willing to bet a million bucks from the dam mob to place
book on it, a very stupid move I'm sure.
This
lady agent went onto hand me three large bright yellow manilla
envelopes, and each one was a very official looking item, with the
words life insurance cancellation,
written on all of them. I do not know why this was being done like
this, as it was not three policies, merely that I had three medical
conditions that warranted my being canceled on my life insurance
policy, as per some kind of regulation and agreement that I had
obviously originally signed when I bought the dam policy. Eventually,
I came to learn that I was working for another branch of this
company, as a security guard, and that I was due in that night for a
work shift from 11P to 7A. I appeared to be driving some weird
electric cart that only went maybe 35 miles an hour tops, like one of
those golf carts, and I never ever play golf, other than as a kid,
going to miniature golf, driving ranges, or even big-miniature golf.
I went often with Jim Burr, back when we were friends/associates/or
'whatever' we were, Huh Bob Andrews,
turned future Congressman!
I
was living at 506 Robin Hill where I was living real-world, in this
wild ''dream'', and worked somewhere in Jersey doing guard work in
that ''dream'', only I did not work at all while I went to Florida to
visit with Howard Solomon. Later in the spring time in 1984, I did to
security guard work on Petty's Island, while still living at 506
Robin Hill, and then moving over to Cinnaminson, on Highland Avenue.
I remember the lady saying that if I called off one more time, they
probably would fire me. I told her I doubted that I could get there
with my cart, and she told me that I needed to make the call to the
guard post, and then just hope for the best. Suddenly, she followed
me outside and took the manilla envelopes in her hands. Then she
placed them in my back seat of that cart. Immediately, there were
play blocks like in kindergarten, that were there, and someone had
made them spell S-A-R-A-H--------K-R-A-S-S-L-E. She asked me who she
was and I told her it is not important, that all I could think about
was my job and my dam canceled life insurance policy. Then suddenly
she said to me, “Oh wait a minute, my husband is here, and he told
me he wants to talk to you, and that it's really important”. Right
away I am thinking, “I don't even know your god dam husband”, but
I just cooperated, and kept my big mouth shut, and waited for him to
come over to where we were standing, near to an outer doorway, that
led out to a good sized office type of parking lot. As he approached
however, he beckoned me to come out to where he was, and I looked at
his wife and she motioned for me to go out to talk to him, and she
then remained inside. This man, and this was in late December of
1983, was Professor Michio Kaku, looking just like he does in these
modern days and times that we all see him on TV or know him if we
attend the NYU. He is a professor of Theoretical Physics, but I never
ever put that together until very recently, even after seeing this
great intellectual man now, for several years on my TV. In that wild
interaction, he stands there very intent, listening to me telling him
how there are two 5-D hyper-space directionality events that move
into each other to create singularities, abnd how this is the eleven
dimensions in String Theory, that are needed to complete very complex
formulas that only work in eleven dimensions, and I was explaining to
him why indeed this was so, and he was listening very intently.
There
is a lot more to this, but I am leaving it all here for right now.
But yes, I had this happen in the time span of about ten minutes, or
what some call very short vivid dreaming spurts. I woke up to a hand
on my shoulder and a loud voice from Howey, saying to me, “Up you
go you schmuck, it's time to go now”. Howey loved to call me a dam
schmuck, all the dam time. I didn't fucking like it at all. In fact,
he treated me so badly, that when my Uncle John Leonard Mason and his
son John Stuart, came to the eats-place to rescue me out of this
hellish nightmare situation that I'd gotten myself into, my uncle who
was always an easy fighter and loved to swing on lots of people all
throughout his life, and who had been a boxer, and was 6-2 and very
athletic and strong; wanted to punch Howard's lights out; but my
cousin John Stuart and I managed talking him out of it, and we just
got onto the nearest on-ramp in that area of Orlando, for the great
I-95 highway, and we headed back for their home, somewhere around
Northwest Eleventh Avenue, in Fort Lauderdale, FL-USA-ESMWG.
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!
Remember;
the same people in 1984, were there around me, in 1983.
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!
NOVEMBER
12, 2015,
LATE
THURS MORNING, AT 11:29,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 84 DEGREES FNHT.
TEMPERATURE
RANGE TODAY--------(H-84/L-68).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 91.
PREDICTED
HIGH TO 85.
WIND
IS A STEADY ENE-4.
END
TRANSMISSION.
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