Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 34

I no sooner started this fucking cunt eating blog, and poof, A MAJOR HACK CRASHED MY INTERNET EXPLORER AND MY WORD PROGRAM FROZE UP SIMULTANEOUSLY, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, at 11:52 Post Meridian!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

MY MACHINE IS MAJOR BUGGED AND WORMED UP, AND IS ACTING REALLY FUCKED UP; SHERIFF SIR. MY CIVIL RIGHTS ARE BEING TRAMPLED ON, AND HANDED TO FUCKING ME BY MY TITS; AND BY WORTHLESS TOTAL FUCKING DIRT BAG TOILET WATER LAPPING SCUZ SUCKING FILTH-BAGS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pageviews today 12 Pageviews yesterday 59 Pageviews last month 2,616 Pageviews all time history 103,884

GLOBAL AUDIENCE BY SHADE RATIO

INTERNATIONAL POPULARITY, OR LACK THEREOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a major fucking hacking job, SHERIFF, FBI, ACLU, GOVERNOR RICK SCOTT, CONGRESSMAN PAT MURPHY, and on top of this, my jerl off fuckign nabes from hell have been banging and slamming all dam day now, and are still going strong as I speak, at two minutes past mother fuckign dirt bag midnight, on Wednesday morning, 16 December, of 2015!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The fuckiGN dirtbag MILITUFORCE is striking me hard, Governor Scott, trying to covertly and stealthfully murder me, with death beams and death rays, such as we all have now seen as totally proven toi exist, the Tesla Technology, and used covertly in a black operations stealth program with majestic top secret fucking level clearance programs and projects, on those enemies who they hate, such as myself, who know to much,a n dare in with powers that go far beoyond the normal populous and realities of their planetary power and control, such as in my case the BRIGGBASE CULT OF THE PLANK REALM, and the mighty fuckign dirtbag MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES OF THE WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These mother fuckers just crashed me AGAIN, Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the report of this second fuckign crash, is being sent by MICROSOFT to the FBI, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have a real team of mother fuckiGN dirt bag total slime bucket diseased jerk off cock suckers on me tonight, folks, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! This is a legal DYING UTRTRERANCE AND DYING DECLARATION, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

 

Search Results

That night, watching those Star Trek shows, while living at 112 Harvard Avenue, Somerdale, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in 1996, in the autumn on the 30^th Anniversary of their TELEVISION SHOW PRODUCTION LAUNCH; memories flooded in that I could not handle, leading to the wild dreams the following year of the Publishing Clearinghouse's PCN-231 PRIZE-PATROL truck with that co-ed named K. J. McAllister, who won that January of 1997; and then the wild song that led to the 2012 production and 2013 Copyright of ''Wanna' Spend My Time'', the fence at Eden's great garden, and a lot more. This is when I was looking nearby the television set, little as it may have been mizz Britney Lavino, and Mister Stanley Crooked Bernstein; and as that great voted-number-1 episode of STAR TREK was airing, suddenly a voice kept saying while I was staring off of the TV set and onto my venetian blinds, “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”. All of these things are on my earlier parts of this now freaking ass ten year blog project that we all know as 'MORIANITY', YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Later on, we can get to how the venetian blinds, the episode on the show called, ''THE TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES'', and a bit more, all brought me parsecs ahead of where I would have been ''spiritually'', if these events were not all LAWTRONICALLY PROGRAMMED to happen, and so, they did, Mister Pharaoh of all babbling's, on and on and on; AKA Babylon, for shorter and abridged sayings, and codings, of all wild strange rhyming rhythms, in all parallel universes everywhere in the multiversal hyperspace, AKA the fifth dimension, Mizz Marilyn McCoo, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am thinking about mother fuckiGN running far away to Alaska very soon, since I have totally mother fuckiGN had it here, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DECEMBER 16, 2015,

EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 12:22,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 74 DEGREES FNHT.

TEMPERATURE RANGE YESTERDAY-------(H-84/L-64).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 91%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 78.

WIND IS SE AT 5, WITH GUSTS TO 10.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0.

Local CamsCool CamsCity CamsTraffic CamsMore Live Camera from Seaport Hotel, Boston, MA Camera Animation Choose a duration: Today 30 Days* 365 Days* * Broadband connection recommended Whenever I have wild nocturnal fucking experiences, I always get a very major attack the next day by Milituforce-Briggbase scum sucking bastard rat ass pricks!!!!!!! This was no mother fuckign exception, kind folks out here. Also, my very fickle audience has left me again. It always happens when I am reporting the most major fucking shit in my life, too. This as I said, proves this indeed, as the name of the book ain't shy about proclaiming, is a MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD!!!!!!!!!

Arthur Huntington, hung himself in a basement of his home, after murdering his wife and mother in law quite brutally with an ax, in their sleep. What a dam ass LOVELY FAMILY I HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE IF YOU PLEASE!!!!

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 6:11 AM No comments:

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. The study of the mind and its so-called illnesses is very valid on its face, despite having some powerful side effects to its main effect, as do all things when playing around with curing and treatment problems of the mind and the body. My quick point here, is that if you open up any book on the topic of psychology/psychiatry, you will see that if a patient were to tell his doctor anything about Quantum Physics, that patient will be exhibiting numerous psychosis's and psychotic features; and there is no way that I am telling anything untrue here. I am giving it to you straight. You can prove it for yourself, Professor. But we both know that there are things that, despite people like me saying they are real, causes us to be labeled insane and crazy, and maybe some politer words. What you guys in the world of Quantum dynamics and Theoretical Physics need to do, is somehow have a third-party merge group, a combination and collusion of both you quantum guys and gals, with those familiar with psychiatry. This is a must, in order to truly help not only a lot of mentally needy people, in this nation, and around this globe, but it is vital in order to stop many things, or even to put a small dent into things, such as America's very recent parabolicly exploding crime wave and gun violence. Take fuckiGN me for a prime terrific example here. No one into quantum dynamic truths can tell me, that these ten years that I have been blogging my now 61 year old story as the current me-life Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, is not REAL. Psych doctors will say that to me in a heartbeat however, and try to medicate me with tropic drugs that would fuck me up twenty times worse, and they cannot help people like me at all, many who eventually snap, and then pow, bang bang bang, a place gets all shot up. Even when I beg for help on blogs for ten straight years, I am ignored, sneered and jeered at, mocked, and figuratively spat upon by the world. Not one honest intelligent investigator can tell me I don't have a real honest major story. They cannot deny my claims and my life. But even when letters are written to top people from these fairly important folks in their own right, they go ignored and unanswered, be it the letter to the Admiral by Congressman Andrew's assistant's, be it Ron Wirtz Senior at the Camden County Prosecutor's Office trying to secure some real help for me, and this list could be typed on for hours on end, I promise you all. What needs to happen in all cases, is that experts must come together, study, and eventually agree on things, or else, forget it; just like if I tried to prove ICPE-APE-TECH in a court of law, and how Trump has used this against me, to catapult his life into what it is today, by a magical force that no one could ever fucking truly deny, yet I would not be legally permitted to introduce unaccepted by experts, evidence; such as this technology, and how it indeed is used against me, and probably even now; many others also, who are blinded by present day blissful willful ignorance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So my point here, Professor Kaku, from someone who appreciates your mind and intellect, and is one of your biggest fans from cable TV channels such as Science and History, and others; Public Broadcast, and on and on; is that only you will recognize my valid point here sir. Their needs to be a colluded group of a new discipline here, half psychiatric and half quantum physicist scientists. If this group, call them whatever you like, could ever gain expert status, I KNOW BEYOND ANY DOUBT, that I would be able to have a total cure in my life and its invisible cosmic problems that surround me, and are not some mentally ill delusion! Another problem however is the establishment, and the protection of the BIG SHOTS. I believe secretly for many reasons private to me, and between us; that the late disco diva Donna Summer, knew a little bit about these things, and I refuse to discuss this, unless someone wants to really help in all of this; but she called this, the “Mister Big Shot Syndrome”. You don't need to know any more for right now, not you Professor, and not anyone reading these blogs. If I thought you needed to know, I'd dam tell. But yes, to make my point, in her MBS-SYNDROME idea, things will be hushed up if people have to KILL YOU, as you and me little peeps are always expendable, and some secrets must be there to protect the BIG SHOTS, which can translate to two items right off the bat, any large celebrity, or any super wealthy person, close to or in the Billionaire bracket!!!

Now, here is the rest of the wild experience that I can remember so far, that I did not blog on my previous fuckiGN blog, kind folks, YO!!!!

Numbers matter. I learned the only bad advice ever given to me, in 1970, by my Cooley Hall teacher at that time, Mister David Blackboards Smith; was when he told me that mathematics is very impersonal. How could he have known about me, in my future? I don't blame him for one strike out in the game, and never ever would I expect a 'perfect-game', in my own personal baseball club, the Morianity-League, if you will, peeps, YO BRAH!!!

On Blogger since January 2006

Profile views – 3046

© MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015

MY BLOGS:

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
• Morianity Foundation
• The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version
• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
• Rats, Tats, & Playing Real Football

In last night's experience, I had a second less intense, but not that much fucking less, than my first one, sort of a part-2 of 2, and you know only about part 1, should you have read my blog chapter number 33 that preceded this one blog you're now reading. In this experience from super hell, I was driving along some weird New Jersey highway in a parallel universe where this road was extremely unfamiliar with some basic shit that just would never happen here in this universe that I won't bother you with the details about. Just to give you an idea what I mean however, you would never see a rowboat up in a tree, and that made into a home, with Halloween crap all over it twelve months a year, and the words ''tricky-teet-teet'' all over the front porch, painted in human blood, and the local police all there having a cookout and talking about the next crime they are all going to commit. But in some parallel universes, things can get extremely wacky by our standards here in this one. This by no means that they are any less real than this one is, OR, that towel seepage effect cannot indeed occur when back here and awake, as a result of doing certain things OVER THERE!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This occurred at 12:48 Ante' Meridian!!!!!!!!!!

So here I am on this mother fucking strange highway, in a car I never drove in any world that I have any dam ass conscious recall about, and suddenly, it stopped and died, and I pulled over and realized that I had this problem for quite some time, and normally it would start if I kept trying, but this time it was finished. Along came a tow truck without me doing anything, and I told him where my local mechanic was, and it was someplace up in Jersey, but no place anywhere near resembling anything in this waking world universe, by any close definition, YO. I was suddenly in the front seat of the tow-truck, and the driver had driven me about three miles, and I was at my mechanics place, and yes, it is the same guy who I never ever knew existed, until I saw him in 2008 in that fucked up screwy place, where MC was telling me how much she loved being who she was, but that there was one problem that she wanted to talk to me about, imagine that? Then it was not until around twenty-eleven, when I saw the WFMU web-page with that screwy looking asshole who was supposed to be me, in what I called MY HATE PAGE!

This mechanic was the one who beat me up in that parallel world where he demanded money and I did not have enough to pay him after he had finished a repair job on my vehicle, and my parents had some weird magic carpet they rode around in. Now in this parallel world, he was in a totally different location, the north Cherry Hill, New Jersey area, and the shop he had was huge and strange, and he acted nice, but then suddenly said to me, an dI won't forget this shit if I live to be one hundred and ninety three. He said, that will be seven hundred and forty dollars and thirty four cents. As he said it, he handed me the bill. I almost fell down, expecting the work to be maybe two bucks, MAYBWE, an d I hoped I could skate by for closer to $150.00. When I told him I only had a little less than $300.00 in my bank and no credit cards, just my dam debit card, he reminded me of all of the repair jobs he had done for me, even the one for many thousands, that many of my blog followers know all about as well. Suddenly I remembered who he was, and that I was in a parallel universes, inside of my double-me, dreaming; and so far, just the recessant in the experience, and not the dominate, hence I was being a regular or normal dreamer, AKA a TYPE-1-Exploratron. We are all T-1-E every time we sleep, and some live lifetimes with no conscious recall to any of their hyperspace adventures, while yet a few others, have learned how to become advanced-dreamers, T-2-E and even eventually T-3-E and joining up with the ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society)!!!!!!!!!!!! I kn ow that MC knows about all of this, and is just being mean and stubborn, keeping this all to herself. But what can I do, Mama and Papa Cass, of the Choking Ham Sandwiches?

Now the price of this repair work ended in 34 cents, as in the 34-Macy Bunch. There was even more to this experience. Some remember how in yet another parallel world, I was the Regional Manager in my area in 1984, in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, while living on Highland Avenue in a rental home owned by Mister Patterson. I really was living there, here in this universe. But while there, I fell asleep one night and began to have this gods awful major vivid experience where I was working in this position, for the Estee-Lauder Company, the fragrance people. We all know, or fans anyway, that MC is also into fragrances, and had those ad-spots running on TV, earlier this century, with my Cousin Donald and Martha Stewart, advertising their fragrance products, at the Macy Store, in NYC, at 34^th Street. I never had put any of these unmistakable towel-seepage connections all together, until very recently, but now, in addition to all of this, comes last night's incredible dreaming-experience, YO!!!

Then comes the 740 dollars, before the 34 cents. I cannot help noticing the mathematical-numerological connections to the number price of this mechanic's bill, you know, as in 74 or 7-4, you know, as in July 4.

AFTER MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

'ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO'; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

We all love FIREFOX. Well I do, but I sure wish this mother freaking automated mechanized robotized inhuman society would help people who are in their freaking sixties. Ever since I did one little thing on my blog, using the FIREFOX BROWSER, simply trying to leave a comment on my own blog, at the BLIGGER-DOT-COM site, the cookies got goddess dam disabled somehow, and I can no longer blog on this browser, until I can get my dam guru over here; and that is a very expensive proposition, AND IT JUST IS NOT DAM ASS FAIR, YO! This world is fixed and prejudiced against older people, who have no family support, or anyone in their dam ass lives to assist them, and it should be totally frikkin' illegal; Congressman Pat Murphy sir, and Governor Rick Scott, sir!!!!!!!!

NO FOLKS, THIS IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT

MEGAHELL ON STEROIDS, CHAPTER 0000,

but it looks so dam pretty here,

that I am going to paste it in, YO!

What do you think of this story?
Click here for comments or suggestions.

**(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))**

>>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[>>

KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL ® 1980

MARK WAYNE MOHR

PINK GODDESSES

MORNING LIGHTS

DESTRUCT SWITCHES

GARY MITCHELLS

AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM SHATNER KIRKS

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 33

DECEMBER 15, 2015,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON, AT 4:18,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 81 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY-------(H-84/L-64).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 79%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 87.

WIND IS AT A STEADY-SE, AT 10.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0.

IT WAS FEELING JUST UP AT 90, OR MAYBE ONE DEGREE SHY, BACK AN HOUR AGO. THE SUN WILL BE DOWN IN A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR, AND THEN TEMPS WILL DROP A BIT. WHAT WON'T DROP IS MY AMAZEMENT TO WHAT HAPPENED TO ME SHORTLY AS THIS MORNING ARRIVED, AND I WAS IN BED!!!!!

I had an uninduced astral-projection, shortly after I went back to bed, right shy of the dam opening bell on Wall Street. At 9:25, I awakened from another horrible gods dam charlie house attack on my left calf, that was quite dam ass excruciating, and agonizing. What did the man say to his wife, after she stabbed him for cheating on her? ''Dam it honey cakes, the word pain just doesn't CUT IT''! I hope the debates tonight have a little humor too. Otherwise, this entire fuckign shit is starting to totally dam depress me. How about all of you, YO?

Aunt Alice Gallagher, of Chicago, Illinois; I'll bet that you never had any uninduced projections out of body, until hubby-dear took the old 1986 to you, back in February of 1948, up there in Braintree, Mass, USA!!! Well, unlike you, oh great Aunt Alice, YO; Latengrate as you may be; I DID HAVE A WILD EXPERIENCE AGAIN, last night or early this morning, or as Bob Andrews said back in 1975 before he sang my SPIRIT PEACE song in Pileggi's Haddon Township, New Jersey, basement; “WHATEVER”!!!!!!!!!!!

Well; without going on about it and getting right to the dam heart of the matter, kind folks out here; the trustworthy and notorious illustrious United States Library Of Congress Copyright Office, back in the summer time in the year of 1980, as well as Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb, of the great world famous superstar Gibb Brothers BEEGEE music assholes; and their theft of my pal Tom Glenn's arrangement, on my LOST LOVE SONG; yes sir/ yes ma'am; all totally fits together in things so huge that if the smallest part of it was altered somehow in a massive T-3-E hyper-space-equation (HSE); you'd never believe how the entire planet would have evolved since 1980, and the way it is now in late 2015; would be nothing like it would have been if I had just never worked at that RPL Sound Studio, or copyrighted any of those dam four 1980 demo tunes! Believe me, don't believe me, from here, to James Patterson's Chris-Cross, and Christ's death Cross; as your belief in my creditability and honesty or for that matter, Listener-Theresa, my sanity; has nothing to do with the pure and simple mathematics of everything involved here. Oh yes, there are countless major unfathomable things to be said about me as well as my interactive life in and surrounding Atlantic City, New Jersey, USA; BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, I learned around the time that I was writing my blog about a year, that I am already in this family of great washcloths; long before I was brought further into it, during a summer time act of passion, underneath the Central Pier, of Atlantic City, USA, ES-MWG!!!!!

It began with the dam charlie horse and me on the floor practically screaming in fucking painful anti-bliss, in its absolute epitomized form, for those science fiction buffs out there who are fascinated with warp drive star ships and antimatter and those similarities such as these. I climbed back into bed and within a minute, despite my calf leg hurting like a kicked little kitten, I was dead-to-the-world. What seemed like maybe no time at all to the tiniest little bit of it, a knock came on the door. I had totally forgotten this entire thing that I am about to tell on this blog, until while watching an old rerun on cable television, from the great western, called, “Gunsmoke”, and heard 'Mister Festis', discussing working for some fellow, so as he could make ten dollars and the dude said he would pay him a dollar a day, and feed him well; if that is at the end of the day he was still able to eat after the man worked him half to death. This began to bring forth some memories of me telling my old beach-pal, Mister Sigmund Malyeska (Ziggy) as I called him, and so did everyone else on the Atlantic City beaches, back in the sixties, and into early seventies; that Tom Reale was paying me ten dollars a day, and Ziggy kept repeating to me in a very shocked sounding tone of voice, “Ten dollars a day”? He thought that was quite the overly exuberant amount of wages to pay a fifteen year old, along with his meals, and housing. Of course, Tom Reale claimed to hire me as a plumber's Assistant, and to quote David Roth who later was told this dirty little story, a decade and a half after the fact, “The only plumbing that he was interested in, Mark, was your plumbing”. He was totally correct!!!!!!!!!

So a knock comes on my door, only I'd totally forgotten the entire deal. Many of you who are avid and vivid dreamers out here, know what is being discussed here, in so far as dreaming, then forgetting it completely, and then some event happens during the course of the day and in some instances even days later, and this goes onto TRIGGER the memory OF THAT DREAMING-INTERACTION EXPERIENCE. I opened the door and remember being barely able to walk and being so tired and drowsy, it was if I had been drugged with a high dosage of barbiturates. Anyone can force themselves to awaken if a loud banging knock comes at your door, only I was barely able to half stand and open the door, and as I did so, several maintenance men were out in the hall, and it is so fuckiGN real, that I would not be able to swear in a dam court of law that it didn't really happen shortly after my charlie horse, that I had gotten, and then returned back into sleep again. It was that real!!!!!!!!

Then here is where shit gets really GOUUUUUUD, to quote my girlfriend Helen Zebriski, back in 1999, when she was referring to my huge fracture bruise, on my right dam arm, after her friend Keisha, the girl who had just turned age 14 years, and was quite a giant and extremely muscular, as well as red hot beyond monster ass hot; had given me a really mind bending play-punch, that you could hear both the bone crushing fracture sound, as well as the unholy 'loud poof sound', and Helen then went onto say later on, while looking at the huge spot on my arm; “Oh Mark, she got you GOUUUUUUUUUUD”!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now back to the door here at my apartment, and at this Public Housing Building, known locally around town here, as the PARK TERRACE. There were about three maintenance peeps, and one just entered without saying a word, and then once inside, he turned back to me, barely able to stand up and keep my eyes open which I have a totally major distinct recollection of now once the memories all returned after watching that part of that GUNSMOKE TV-SHOW, and as he turned, he jabbed me with a hypodermic needle, and then I completely passed out and remember him catching me, picking me up, and placing me onto my bed. Then I somehow knew all of them were inside my place, and I could hear on some level of awareness, them all speaking to each other for quite some time. I was not however able to get any actual gist of what the conversation was all about, or why they had done this to me, in the first place.

The harder I tried to wake myself up, the more energy I seemed to be expending, and causing me the very opposite effect to what I was attempting to accomplish. Then poof, no busted arm from gorgeous young teen girls, BUTTTTTTT I was completely asleep, only I was anything but, and found myself in Cooley Hall, back just a day or two before the Christmas vacation break of 1972, and a month before my final days there, in late January of 1973. I was in the coaches locker area in the gymnasium there, and I seemed to be forced to walk into his secret closet area, and use his D.E. Device that I used to dream about was in there, ever since the nineteen-seventies came in. I activated it with a big square red knob that I pushed instinctively. Suddenly I saw two horizontal bright black lines in front of me, one at my toes, and the other about thirty inches beyond my toes, but parallel to the first line, and these lines were about three feet or maybe a little bit more in width and about an inch thick, both in height dimension as well as out. A voice told me to jump across from the first line to the second line, and the command kept repeating, and growing louder until I eventually did just that. Instantly I found myself in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Jerry Heitzmann my old pal from Cooley Hall was with me, and it was now a year earlier, in 1971 and back in the middle summer time, somewhere early in July. He didn't actually arrive until I got onto Tennessee Avenue. I was taken directly to the upstairs rooms of Sarah Krassle's shop, by this D. E. system, in the coaches locker area, (Distance-Elimination). It somehow places a magnetic field of controlled velocitrons and zeetrons that are smaller than plank reality and yet larger than the void infinity, and that are responsible for the dreaming out and away from that void into the plank,and then into hyperspace. Ever since I began typing this blog, just about, MY FUCKIGN NABES FROM HELL, have not stopped slamming doors out in th edam fuckign hallway, MIZZ MARATTO, Resident Manager, YO! Obviously, as the great game of GTNOTG indeed dictates, one must realize that explorations are not only inside of my computer machine system,but then they try and discourage me from typing and doing these blogs, whenever I discuss certain MAJESTIC LEVEL TOP SECRET INFORMATION STUFF; and so they enter into my nabes from fucking hell, and make them slam and slam and slam and slam, kind SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, after Jerry was spotted; I then came to realize in the experience, that I was blocking another huge fuckiGN memory, and this is what these TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONIC indwelt nabes, and now successfully GUESSED-GUESTS; are trying to interfere, and prevent, me from telling about and blogging this wild information.

Before I tell the experience here, kind people; you need to understand that I really had this happen to me, and I had forgotten it. I had been assaulted, and so had poor Jerry Heitzmann; by the great PAULA-PATTY KING; and I had just assumed for a short while, before blocking out the entire memory all together; that those two boys who looked similar to classmates that I had back at Cooley Hall, in David Leigh Smith's class, Harry Vogel and Eddie Boemeister; that Jerry and I had encountered a short time earlier on the boardwalk, about a quarter mile or less south of Tennessee Avenue, were the ones who had knocked us around. It wasn't. It was big PP-KING. She busted some teeth in Jerry's mouth, and hit me so hard that my mind and brain had been effected, and my memories were jumbled and lost, all this time, from 1971 in July, until this very early day here on December the fifteenth, in 2015. There is a lot more to tell, as it involves a lot of powerful known people, and now it no longer is a mystery how the WAYV radio people all know Mister Regis Philbin, as he is also a lot more than he purports to be, whether he even knows or remembers being an active engaging part of this or not, when he is not indwelt; and not a part of of the GUESSED-GUESTS, of the great unholy and evil Briggbase-controlled and operated, EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!

You know for all I care, you can imprison me in some huge scary fuckiGN looking lighthouse, or your dam water company, oh great pink goddess on Earth; BUTTTTTTTTT, I'll always love you to death, my white-hot teen queen Jehovah, no matter what you keep doing to your poor old defenseless little helpless pathetic THAT-BOY, YO!

Now why exactly, Sarah Callio Martino, somewhere in hyperspace; trapped me in a lighthouse, and yelled my name out, over and over, 'JoJo-JoJo; I will never totally know, so let me widen the scope of the topic, so we can see this in a larger blend of bigger pictures, and out of one tiny confined box; great ladies and gentlemen. First, my spell-checker is disabled, so I must close the word program out and reboot into it to activate the anti-hack procedure. OK I'm back, EVIL CHUCKIE, DAWN-MARIE, BEETLEJUICE NONSTAR, and FREDDY ELM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989

---

Public Catalog Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

THE WEATHER BUG (TWB) This map and legend is shared on the BOM.

Advisory Colors Key Severe Thunderstorm Warning Tornado Warning WeatherBug Dangerous Thunderstorm Alert Severe Thunderstorm Watch - Box Tornado Watch - Box Flood Warning Flood Watch Non-Precipitation Advisory Severe Weather Statement Flood Statement Marine Warning Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

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!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION!