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've been noticing
this shit for about a year or maybe a little more now. It 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
I am not the center of the universe, and people get busy, especially
on weekends. How true. Still, this is all bullshit, and I know it. I
know better, and I also know, as 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”.
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 t 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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views – 3046
©
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
fire endless eternal nightmare. 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 to 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 May late 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 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 real 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 GTOD 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????
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”, 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 connects into all of 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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