CHRIS,
ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD
DECEMBER
9, 2015,
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:06,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H78-/L-66).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 76%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 82.
WIND
IS E AT 6, WITH GUSTS TO 11.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0006.
My Global Audience in a Shade Ratio:
Yes
I am alive and still me, mildred Young!!!
HEAVENLY
BODIES OF ALL TYPES, ARE LOVELY TO GAZE AT, AND
THAT IS IT.
NO
ONE WILL EVER GET ME OFF OF THIS PLANET,
AND YOU HAVE ALL MY RESPECT, NASA; FOR
TAKING SUCH A DARE,
WHEN ALL YOU NEED TO GO ANYWHERE, IS TO REALIZE YOU ARE ALREADY
THERE; OR BETTER PUT PERHAPS, YOU
ARE NOT REALLY EVEN HERE TO BEGIN WITH.
TALK ABOUT FLUIDITY AND LIQUIDITY, IN BOTH CAPITALISM, AND
AUERONAUTICS, YO KIND FOLKS!!!
I
ran into an old time traveler today, when I left my doctor's office,
for my check up appointment. Every time I go there now, the doctor
has some wild emergency, and is running behind by a minimum of an
hour to an hour and a half. Sometimes, things need to be timed; huh
Mister William Pine Hill Harner??? No airplane can fly for 30 years,
and look and sound exactly the same. I used to call it the “UGLY
PLANE”, and it has a co-traveler, that I used to call, the “FIGHTER
PLANE”. We won't even start delving into the complexities that are
involved with all of this. I came out of the doctor's office
building, a hundred yards off of Nebraska Avenue, at just a couple
minutes shy of STOCK MARKET CLOSING BELL TIME, naturally, about 3:57
give or take, and it came roaring right over me. I gave it a military
salute. This plane is a time-plane, and it moves not only in the
skies over this planet, but also, through time, and thus never
appears to age, whatevere time that I am inand perceive this airieal
vehicle in, as it just moves back and forth in the wink of an eye. I
first began being stalked and messed with by these two planes, in
late august of 1986, and it never ever stops. They are always there,
you know, like wonderful ADT!
I
have absolutely nothing to do with the way the United States
Copyright Office catalogs the 29 musical projects that I've sent to
them over decades of time. After the internet became available to the
general public in the early middle nineties, to the point where it
was a real entity and used by many folks who grew it to astronomical
proportions after that, THEY made up the file on my music, and it is
THEIR website. I only copied it to my BOM blogs. In fact, they
insist my project number 29 is there, but I have gone up and I am
unable to access it. But I have learned that I have no rights
or freedoms in this nation, and the rules that apply to everybody
mother fuckign else, just don't apply to me. I
am not allowed to get involved in MUSIC in any way, shape, or form,
not unless I want to be turned inside out, upside down, and assaulted
by the Milituforce in covert stealthy ways that go far beyond
inconceivable, despicable, and monstrously fuckiGN horrendous.
So I don't even try to understand why my copyrighted early
July-2013 project, called, “You'll
Be Crossing Over/My Youtube Project”, is not available
for me to access on the Copyright Office's web-site.
Just
discussing this topic, and my computer is beginning to mother fuckiGN
act up; my kind lads and lassies, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Public Catalog
Copyright
Catalog (1978 to present)
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Happy
Turkey Day, YO!!!!!
The
great PINK-GODDESS of STAR TREK;
gee, just what is going on? How many out here know about my trip in
1972, up to Babylon, New York, to 175 Peninsula Drive, to visit with
my mom's cousin, Ruth Huntington Gottwald, at his mansion there? If
you don't, you won't be told any details right now,other than I
always took a tape recorder with me and was obsessed with tape
recorders at that time. How many know how I was taken on a road trip
on the second day of my visit, up to the north shores of this great
Woodie Guthrie Island, and had an experience that I blocked out of my
mind for 36 years, until it resurfaced in a dream on 5 October, in
2008? I, even then after awakening, believed it to be just a dream,
until I finally became my own head doctor, and admitted to myself
that I witnessed a horrendous event up at my daughter's house!
DECEMBER
9, 2015,
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:06,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H78-/L-66).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 76%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 82.
WIND
IS E AT 6, WITH GUSTS TO 11.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0006.
END
TRANSMISSION.
CHRIS, ED, AND
THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD
CHAPTER 18
There are no
absolutes, but David Leigh Smith from Cooley-Hall had some very
wonderful advice for me that day after I returned from Ellisberg
Circle's weird school of machine-professors. I told on earlier blogs
a lot about this place, the Ellisberg Circle that is, not just
limiting this discussion to this school that was there. There was
mom's boyfriend who took mom and me by car one Saturday afternoon in
the autumn of 1969, to several stores there. My mom needed to buy a
mirror, and I was told to take it to the car, and given the keys, so
I could place it into the back seat, and then either come back and
find my mom and her boyfriend Sid, or at my discretion, remain in the
car until they completed their shopping task. I chose to do neither,
and took the mirror, and used it to almost cause a lot of serious
problems, by using it in a manner not intended by its manufacturer,
that is, to reflect bright blinding sunlight, directly into the face
of drivers. Today, the world of this new age would have seen me in
what I call, the Abbey Carmichael Law & Order way, you know, a
bad egg, a crazy nutty adolescent who needs to just be locked away,
for not conforming and obeying and saying yes sir, no ma'am to every
dam adult within my daily interactivity. Hey, I wasn't a really bad
ass, but I was quite the imp who could really piss off my mom's sort
of nutty boyfriend, Sidney, without, to quote Lenny McKinnon who I
would not go onto meet for eleven years, ''any doubt about it''.
Before this time,
back in the spring time of 1969, about a half of a year or so, I had
become friends, an d not by my choosing, but everything in this life
is always my fault and I am the perpetual absolute bad guy in all
things, as I shortly thereafter have come to learn; but yes, Brad and
I did some things that were bad, and I told about most of it, on
these blogs, the first two years of them, in 2006 and 2007. But why I
acted out, had something to do with being given this somewhat wild
bigger kid, who was fourteen months younger than me, in the body of a
seventeen year old, with the physical strength to match, and an eye
for the fairer gender, and on I can go here, but won't, since he is
not here to produce his side of anything that I might say; but yes,
he was a wild customer, and quite a pistol, and a lot more; but he
was my pal, and we did become close friends; about as close as any
two young teen boys could be, who lived in the same garden type
apartment system, of those times and days. But Brad was not the only
reason that I began going a bit loco in many various ways, such as
acting out with screaming and cursing, and being defiant with parents
and authority, abnd feeling life was somehow mistreating me, because
shit was happening to me, beginning early in February of that year,
and going strong, month after month, in ways that no blog could ever
really hope to adequately and properly address and define in terms
that would permit normal and average type of people, any ability to
identify and or relate to me, from their own personal private young
lives. I am speaking of three major things here, that most of you out
here know, or think that you all do, to some degree and some extent.
These being, the chain and the wild teen girl on Tennessee Avenue of
Atlantic City, the train and my suddenly remembering an entire half
century or more of a lifetime, where I had grown into a man and an
adult, lived a totally failed and fucked up life, and ended up
realizing that I had been repeating this loop of nightmares, similar
to being literally trapped in a helluish I-Ching Trance, for what
would seem to be about six to ten thousand years, give or take, if
all strung together. The biggest of all, was the first Saturday in
July, just shortly before Brad and his mom, Grace Messenger, moved
away, and took up residence in Cherry Hill, in the Stievasent Towers,
about two miles or more away from the Haddon Hills Apartments. I do
not have a play by play memory of the day it happened and the exact
events. It is jumbled broken up nightmarish fragments, just exactly
like the inverted digital year to follow, 27 years later, in 1996,
when the great exploratron Patty-Paula, got me a second time, and
this time, was witnessed to some degree, by a maintenance person at
the apartment I was at then, called the Highview Apartments, in
Monroe Township, Gloucester County, Williamstown, New Jersey, just
down the street from the famous Black Horse Pike, and the Gete's
Diner. My Spell-Check has been disabled, so I need to go off and come
back on, and fix my typos.
Discussing
exploratron-Patty-Paula or EPP for short, is like discussing Sarah
Krassle, as with both, this mother and daughter team have extremely
unfathomable abilities to do inconceivable and outlandish mystical
things, and they do them on a regular basis. If you do not think
about someone, yet begin to dream about them on a regular basis, this
means that they are thinking about you. I promise you that this is
true, but I am speaking in five dimensions, not three. This applies
to both of these 'people' and yes, I do single quote the word there,
as I do not know just who or what they really truly are. The game
that Sarah wants me to play with her, seems to imply that by its very
title that she spouted off to me on P. H. Day of 1996, and very
interesting symbolic initials too if I may add here; this game seems
to be all about indeed guessing who is 'real' and who is 'not real',
or who is the guest, which can very easily be interpreted to mean,
who has an active dreaming-doppelganger inside of them, hence that
would be the 'GUEST' that I will need to 'GUESS', if I am to
successfully navigate my way through this physical hellish life and
this horrendous HUNTINGTON FAMILY CURSE.
She said to me,
back on 7 December, of 1996, just shy of 5 AM, while I was dead
asleep and out of this world where my body was laying in my bed, and
I was on her great street, in-between the great TRINITY-HOTEL, and
the great and powerful monster dirt ball Robert McGuire's Hotel-Bar,
and I quote, “Let's play a game boy, called GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”.
As I said and I
ain't ashamed to admit to this truth that was not my fault at all;
after 1969 and all of this wild shit, it is beyond amazing that I
have any degree of rational fuckiGN sanity remaining. ''But still'',
Detective Lenny Briscoe sir; as the great Mister Al Jolson the
musical legend said, decades and decades back into time, YO, “You
ain't heard nothing yet”!!!
Folks, it's past
my dam freaking bedtime by two hours, at 2:36 Ante' Meridian (before
noon). It is the ninth day in December now, here in 2015, on a
predawn Wednesday morning, here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA. It is
66 degrees here in town at the local airport, and is predicted to
drop to 62. Now take all of that horse shit, and all the horses asses
all over the planet as well, and a five dollar bill also, and you can
either exchange this for twenty shiny quarters at most banks, or just
go to Mickey-D and enjoy a small fries and a burger. Boy oh boy oh
boy, Mommy, and Moomy Deaest, and Betty Roaches Dindin Davis!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
CHRIS,
ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD
CHAPTER
17
''MELLLLLY
MELLLLLY CLISMAS''; Ex-FCC Director-Chairman, Bob McDowell; old
buddy, from 1972, at the great wonderful awesome Cooley Wormhole Hall
of Haddonfield!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
|
||||||||||
The
great one and only Avalon Beach Club of Fort Pierce, here in Florida,
Saint Lucie County, in these great and awesome United States.
Hey
peeps, the world sucks for just about all of us, but that's no dam
reason to go all crybaby over it, YO.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
Well,
I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am the one
in 1984 from Highland Avenue.
AND
LASER RETRACE AND DISTANCE DELAY LUNSAT FIELD TECHNOLOGY ALL ASIDE,
FOLKS; I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT, AND
NEITHER DOES THE GREAT DAWN-MARIE KING, OR THE MYSTERIOUS AUTO
MECHANIC, WITH THE LOGO'S ALL OVER HIS DAM WEIRD JERSEY, YO YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DECEMBER
8, 2015,
TUESDAY
NIGHT AT 10:17,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 68 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-74/L-59).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 100%, WIND CHILL IS 67.
WIND
IS NNE AT 5, WITH GUSTS TO 8.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0009.
Well
between that monster punch that Keisha pounded my right arm with,
fracturing the bone, back in 1999, and Steve getting his Halloween
pelt and pummel from lovely Patty-Paula, like super ouch; YO; WOW,
you and me are two near time amputee patients, huh old neo-ho-rengay
key oh, chanter guy?
©
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!
|
|||||||||||||
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”. He supposedly was talking to his
co-radio friend, Miss Chillie. 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 DISTRUCT OF COLUMBIA. Oh Poolroy, go
home
already.
What
the fuck are you laughing at, YO?
My
life ain't one bit fucking funny, dude, and that's just realty
son!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hay,
I didn't fuckiGN say you have to go all crybaby over it either,
YO!!!!
Hey,
it looks pretty, YO.
The
Bum
Classification,
CHAPTER
0000.
Patty
and the gang just
illegally
froze up my mother fuckiGN computer,
WOW,
it is 2008 all over again,
and
going on 080808 too. A really big fucking WOW, and a big fucking
JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE,
if you please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
KEEP
READING ALONG, AS:
JUST
BECAUSE YOU RECOGNZE WORDS,
Never
assume there is not any new reading material.
3-6-9,
Frank Callio, Astral Realms, and Nicola Tesla.
WOW, there was an old OUTER
LIMITS syfy show
about a fictional radio station called KXKVI.
Like
WOW, Mister Macy-34.
In
1975, when Jim Burr rescued me from that horrible Halloween party,
and those Satan worshiping nabes, ''the Kaufman's'' next door, who I
called them by; since they always did that Walt Disney trick, to let
you know they were there, by always coughing intentionally, when they
came anywhere close to where you would be, whether going out or
coming in. It is a psychological condition if you carefully analyze
and study with real scrutiny, the entire great book of mental
illness, the “DSM-5”. While Jim and I drove around Lindenwold,
and watched the ghost and goblin kids all dressed up out pirating for
some nice candy; my mom was working at her shipping company in
Philadelphia, with coworker Patricia Hurricane Hollister. Maybe Eddie
Himacane Lynch was a time traveler all along and no one bothered to
recover his repressed memories of it. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA,
Mister McNulty. Yes sir, while Jim and I were escaping Halloween
parties that were quite hellish, he had just left Gloucester, where
Patty and Merry and all other wonderful patched pirates, and
Jokester's, were hanging around, and securing their bags of sweets
and candies. Well, and why not. We all are a bunch of hanging in
there Huntington's. I'll never ever mother fucking forget the day of
th e2007 summer town forest fire, up in Berryville-Hammonton, an dhow
WAYV said to us, “Hang in there Hammonton”. Yeah, and I'll bet
you were thinking of one resident in particular, who was being a
hanging in there Huntington, ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEEEIT.
Gorgeous
inmate Alice Ciminelli
said it all; on the greatest mother fucking dick licking law show, to
ever grace the lands of television; Dick
Wooooooolf's
Law&
Order.
She said, referring to the prison guards (Correction Officers or CO's
for short), “They
have all the power”!
Folks, fuck the dam CO's. The people in this classification and
category, can be thought of as the
quintessential anti-bums.
But it ain't the dam correction officer people who have all the
power; only all the power in the prison system. The
billionaire's have it all,
and that lovely teen girl protester, who spoke to President Nixon,
suddenly seemed to gain that revelation. Watch the great movie;
another
great Ollie Stone production, called, “NIXON”.
This
sudden coming upon her,
while speaking to the true most powerful person on Planet Earth, or
how true might be a bit relative, but still; this
knowing something suddenly is a very serious and quite mysterious
matter.
It is called, MORIANITY.
It
finds us, we don't create or find Morianity.
Cosmos decides literally to single out pieces of itself, to make
revelations clear to them that would otherwise remain absolutely
mysterious and ever-unknown!!!!
These
fences between us have gone on for more than 13,000 years, Scylla
Goddess. Are you trying to totally drive me mad; my lovely teen
queen, SSJKK??????????????????
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION!!!!!!
Last
night, folks, I had powerful dreams that Sarah was taking her long
light brown hair, and dangling it all over my face, the way I love
her to do so very much. She told me that “I
am THAT-BOY, and always will be, that SHE is the great I AM, and will
never ever go away and leave me”. Hey, I guess no matter how
many times Cuzz McGuire damages my car, or Nick for that matter; SHE
is not ever going to stop loving me in eternity, in HER great city,
SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. So go and choke on that one; Cifaloglio-Harvest
Darius Deezy, and Mister T3E Cannon, YO!!!!!!!
The
great PINK-GODDESS of STAR TREK;
gee, just what is going on? First, as I stated; I come right out and
openly tell that I do not believe that the creators of STAR TREK were
totally from here in this universe. I believe that in a parallel
universe, doubles (doppelgangers) of them such as Mister Roddenberry,
became what Morianity refers to as TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS.
Simply put, the more advanced doubles of the people, who we know
here, only as THEM, and not them plus their controlling-double who is
asleep physically from their parallel universe and dream-controlling
their double here, so that they will do something or not do
something, or whatever the case may be, that is behind most if not
all 'T3E' activity. So why then does Roddenberry and the Trek Peeps,
create not only this show, and all of the great spin off shows and
movies that followed? The only possible thing that could hope to
answer, is that a huge army of the fifth dimension uses this jack-in
gamer simulation we call the cosmos, to play a wild game. Like
hyper-WOW, Mister R. H. Macy, sir!!!!!
Contact
Us
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of Congress Home Page
Jim
Burr was a man I met at a place called the Professional Careers
Institute, in the early summer of 1973. I was taking a Computer
Programming class there, as was he, studying on the state of the art
system back then, the great marvelous International Business
Machines system 360 (IBM).
When
we met, he and I had one desire, and that was to become
multi-millionaires. Back then, that would be like single digit
billionaires in equivalent purchasing power to today, in actual net
worth.
After
only a few months, something happened to ther man. He changed, and
big time. Suddenly he could not care in the least about money making,
or anything other than some kind of super natural bullshit that
entered into his life. He shortly after that, found GOD, as the old
expression goes. In fact and truth, no one ever can find God, as God
is not lost to begin with. God finds us, but a promise you that a lot
more than this simple three word sentence is all part of a very
mystical and powerful equation.
Jim
Burr and I meeting at this PCI school, at the 1-Cherry Hill Building,
at the Mall; in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, at Suite #201, was no
accident in the cosmos. Nothing is ever just an accident in the
cosmos. Atheists don't agree, and I must admit, I envy the fuckign
hell out of the atheists. I HAVE SEEN SHIT that never ever can be
told on any blog and I promise you, it wipes out one religion, and
the name of that religion is Atheists.
If
anyone out here thinks that all of this began
in 1973 with Jim Burr; then you would be about as far off
base, and onto god dam left field; as the ball park can possibly be
stretched. Jim Burr however does indeed, play a
gargantuan mother fuckiGN part and role, in my life, every bit
as large as Atlantic
City does, and David Roth does, and RPL does; and I suppose I could go on listing other fuckiGN shit such as the Robin Hill Apartments farm outside of David Leigh Smith's Haddonfield, and on and on and on we could go, if you have a decade or two, peeps; YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEE; huh Mister Chester-Frank, YO?
City does, and David Roth does, and RPL does; and I suppose I could go on listing other fuckiGN shit such as the Robin Hill Apartments farm outside of David Leigh Smith's Haddonfield, and on and on and on we could go, if you have a decade or two, peeps; YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEE; huh Mister Chester-Frank, YO?
The problems I face;
Jim Burr knew about, four and a half freaking ass decades back into
time, “MY FAMILY”, and that
is a quote, except for him saying 'your', not 'my', but then, he
never had to sing any dam apology songs, YO! Give me a break Merry
Greendress Loveboats!!!! WEEEEEEE, me' ol' freaking Spell-Check
Program was disabled
by the Milituforce Hackers
Club again, FBI, YO BRAH!!! One thing I
have been taught by the school of AFTER AUGUST 1986 STRIKES, or the
AA-1986-S-SCHOOL, for short, is that when a bad day is happening,
COUNT THE MOTHER FUCKING HELL ON MAJOR BLACK
HAT COMPUTER HACKING AND BLACK HAT CRACKER HACKERS, YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!! Oh yes folks out here, YO; I can always know that the
MHC will strike on bad nasty ass fucking BOTBAR times,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CHRIS, ED, AND THE
MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD, CHAPTER #15 (AMP-CEMB)
Weekday
THE GREAT AND POWERFUL
WEATHER BUG (TWB), IS BEING
SHARED NOW, ON THE BOM (BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN). WOW!!!!!
WeatherBug Featured Story
Cold Weather and The Common
Cold -- Are They Connected
Enlarge
Did you know there are many
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viruses are present throughout the year, regardless of how cold it
might be outside. Cold weather does not cause colds, however, there
are a few weather-related variables that can lead to a higher
number of colds occurring during the winter.
The cold virus spreads the same way any other virus does, usually requiring close contact with someone who is already infected with the virus. The cold virus can live for several hours on objects such as toys, doorknobs, telephones, and computer keyboards. The virus can also be transmitted through the air, particularly in crowded spaces with limited air flow such as airplanes or buses.
Dry nasal passages make them more prone to a virus. This can be due to allergies or low humidity. The winter season is usually the season with the driest air. Winter is also the time where people tend to spend more time indoors to avoid the cold, leading to more frequent close contact with others. Holiday travels can also increase a person’s exposure to airborne viruses.
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Moving to a warm weather location won’t eliminate your risk of getting a cold. Instead, employ basic preventive measures such as washing your hands frequently, cleaning your desk and counter-tops with antiseptic wipes, using a nasal spray to keep them moist, and staying out of close contact with those who are sick.
More
Your 5 Day Forecast
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
TUE
Mostly Cloudy
78°/65°
WED
40% Chance of Rain
78°/62°
THU
Mostly Cloudy
78°/65°
FRI
Partly Sunny
78°/65°
MON
62°
To purchase the cold
remedies that do not post up here, you will need the APP, 'TWB'.
There
are some things that need to be said. If things were different, it
all would just be said at once, all the really important things. But
I learned long ago, doing this is more dangerous to the health and
well being, at least for me, than smoking, texting and driving, and
cheating on my taxes and bragging about it on Facebook, all put
together! To
quote the great Billy Harner from New Jersey, timing is
everything!!!!!!!!!!!
LIKE
MACY FUCKING WOW:
I
got the distinct impression, that back in middle late 1983, the
great mighty powerful casino in Atlantic City, and the first one of
them all, RESORTS INTERNATIONAL HOTEL AND CASINO; really liked my
fucking song from the musical project of SAGA OF SONGWRITER MARK
MUD, called,
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
“Don't
EF around with magnetics”.
Quite
a few people enjoyed my blog called HALLS WALLS, chapter 34, as
well, if I ain't too dam mistaken here, kind ladies and
gentlemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!
gggghjggg
bfdgdd fkti tieugfu50u6gj[bde rjgufuididi and yes, folks, me' ol'
fucking spell-check program has been STRUCK AGAIN, by me wovewee
fucking enemies, YO.
AND
HA-HA-HA, I FIXED IT AGAIN WITH THE BOOT OFF AND ON BULLSHIT, SO
WEEEEEEEEEE!
HAY,
I CAN TAKE A HINT. I do not need to be hit by a mother fucking cunt
lapping Mack Truck, MASHELL DANIELS OF 1980.
The
FEDERAL
FUREAU
of INVESTIGATION
is
a really great part of the law enforcement system, and I always
respected the great Mister Hoover, who once over saw the ops, when
it was a relatively new organization. One day when I was a small
child of late single digit age if I am correctly remembering the
story told to me by my mother; this great outfit wanted her to come
into their Philadelphia office on her lunch hour from her job at the
Lavino Shipping Company, now the Inchcape Corporation after this
British firm bought them out. They showed her photos of my father,
her husband, in Florida in his diving suit, as back in those times,
he did a lot of work for two well known salvage companies here in
this state, the Real Eight, owned by Kip Wagner, and the more famous
one, Treasure Salvers INK, owned by Melvin Fisher! The FBI was very
mean to my mom, and did not believe her when she told them that they
weren't in contact with each other at the time. She was being
completely honest, but as well all know from watching any kind of
cops and robber shows or law shows, they cannot just believe stuff,
and have to give suspects a hard time, it is their job. I fully get
that, and hold no resentment at all. But one day after a few times
of this, my mom called her friend Helen Gregory. She was dating a
top general in the United States Army at the time, and were quite
bosom close, and planning a possible marriage, until Helen began
getting ill, from a fast moving cancer, that went onto take her not
that far later on in time. Having powerful friends is always great,
and I grew up with a lot of them, from family contact. I am not used
to the new life I live, IN HELL, without any of them. The entire
mother fuckign world has abandoned me, and that is why I know that I
have had to have died and gone to hell. I know I died a whole bunch
of times, and have blogged the stories with very perfect accuracy,
for anyone interested at all, to read! Getting back to the FBI in
the late sixties somewhere, this is why a tap was on the phone all
of my life, and there is a lot to the story of my dad and his
diving, and the treasure charts that he left to me, that I have no
one to pass onto, other than for a very ungrateful daughter.
Yes
sometimes, Jack McCoy, we both wish that all of them would go away,
and I don't feel all that cold and cruel in saying thistleweeds, or
THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! W---O---W!
ALL
SAVANTS KNOW THIS ONE, YO; ''THE END''!!!
Are
you saying, no more of MOHR, yet, peeps??? WOW!
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