SUPPLEMENTAL
BLOG ENTRY OF 12-23-2015
I
am in a slow pattern of every other day a decent number of views
come, and then in-between those alternates,come the real slow
day-views.
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Audience
My
mom and I were living in some Public Housing place, somewhere, be it
Florida, New Jersey, or some other state, or if there even were
states; I am not privy to. This was in a parallel universe, or you
would all say, boy was I in a wild and vivid dreaming-experience. She
had come in from shopping at some local store, and we had our own
shopping cart that we kept chained out in a whole different hallway.
But once you entered from the hallway, the apartment was similar to
this one other than for the fact that it had two bedrooms, and was
not a studio type of apartment. She had been sitting here in the
living room and I was also here, and somehow, she never had closed
the door, and I asked her something, and she got up and said that she
is closing the door, and I asked if it had been open all of the time
that we were sitting around in here, and she said, she must have
forgotten to close the door. Sure enough, our kitchen had been
robbed, most of the food and many of my medicines, had been stolen.
Bad enough that this happened right here in my waking world back two
October's ago, if memory is serving me, but then again in this
parallel world; now that really fucking sucks a trucks, folks! Then
came ten hours later, and POW, the fire alarm crap began. Fortunately
it only lasted about fifteen minutes or so, and all the inspectors
want to do, is examine the safety system in the apartment, for a
quick check to see if it looks OK. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
My
absolute favorite computer application is TWB.
SHARED
BY THE BOM, THE GREAT TWB (THE WEATHER BUG).
JUST
A TID BIT TINY SMATTERING OF THEIR GREAT MATERIAL:
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All
Photos
Sanyo FWDV225F DVD/VCR Player
3 stars Average rating: 3 stars 2 ratings
In Stock in Electronics
Aisle M.6 Only a few left!
$168.00
SANYO DVD Recorder/VCR Combo
Average rating: stars ratings
10855
So. Us Hwy #1
Port
Saint Lucie, Florida, USA-ESMWG.
My
dad and I will be operating the Island Universe Diners of Akoslem;
out in the purgatory, now; great people!!! Screw Spanish Treasure
Galleons and all secret museums, and secrets of them, huh Mister
Weiler Senior?
Oh
yes, my awesome beyond white hot lovely goddess,
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
THIS
PHOTO IS OF SHERIFF MASCARA OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA, USA
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
MY BLOGS:
Signs and symptoms of colorectal cancer
Colorectal
cancer may cause one or more of the symptoms below. If you have any
of the following you should see your doctor:
- A change in bowel habits, such as diarrhea, constipation, or narrowing of the stool, that lasts for more than a few days
- A feeling that you need to have a bowel movement that is not relieved by doing so
- Rectal bleeding
- Blood in the stool which may make it look dark
- Cramping or abdominal (belly) pain
- Weakness and fatigue
- Unintended weight loss
Colorectal
cancers can bleed. While sometimes the blood can be seen or cause
the stool to become darker, often the stool looks normal. The blood
loss can build up over time, though, and lead to low red blood cell
counts (anemia). Sometimes the first sign of colorectal cancer is a
blood test showing a low red blood cell count.
Most
of these problems are more often caused by conditions other than
colorectal cancer, such as infection, hemorrhoids, irritable bowel
syndrome, or inflammatory bowel disease. Still, if you have any of
these problems, it's important to see your doctor right away so the
cause can be found and treated, if needed.
Last Medical Review: 10/15/2014
Last Revised: 08/13/2015
http://www.cancer.org/cancer/colonandrectumcancer/detailedguide/colorectal-cancer-signs-and-symptoms
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!!!
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Well,
I have said a lot of dam shit in the past ten years on-line, on my
BOM (Blogs Of Mountainpen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,
NOW WHAT CAN I SAY, lovely
Attorney General P. Bondi?
AHA-AHA-AHA----MIKE
MCNULTY, YO!
I
DON'T WANNA' FUCKING HEAR IT, NEW KID!
WHAT
CAN I SAY, SIR JAY-JAY, DIE-NO-MITE EVANS?
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!!!
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Folks;
how many of you have heard of the stairs of disaster? Right away
you're maybe thinking, “Christ, he's not going to talk about his
daughter as a toddler again in that house, and his dam stupid ass
repressed memories”? No I'm not!!!
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
the 2007 summer town forest fire, up in Berryville-Hammonton, and how
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.
ONCE
YOU'RE ON THE BUM CLASSIFICATION, IT IS NEXT TO IMPOSSIBLE TO GET OFF
OF, LIKE TH ECRACK-POT-LIST. AND WHEN YOU ARE ON THE BOTH OF THEM,
WELL; NEED I SAY MORE, MISTER GEORGE STRAIT, SIR?????????????????
The
Bum Classification
Yes;
Sidney
Mirrors Cohen Crown,
I do find all of life EVERYWHERE sir, to be quite 'depressing';
to use your word, and not just in god dam Atlantic City, YO!!!!!!!!!
The evil mother fucking Milituforce gets its god dam way by
exploiting every weekness that I have, an dwhen you have SATAN as a
personal mother fuckign enemy, along with his BRIGGBASE CULT troops
under him (Biblical-Demonic-Forces), well; lotsa'-luck to me great
folks, and then some god dam fucking more of it, YO
BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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!!!!
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!!!!
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!!!!
THE
ENDocrinologists, AND THE END.
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 15
I
was awake, barely, but wow I am glad that I was. Today was the
quarter-annual fire alarm test day. Of course, it always is just
before Wall Street's opening-bell. What else is new, lads and
lassies?
Diana
was with me all night, and the past several nights, the great
Atlantic Ocean and I spent wonderful times together. Hey Razzy, how
can I go wrong when I have the great GODDESS all around me, at least
while asleep. While back here awake, my hell resumes.
In
truth, memory is a totally different part of mind, than thought, and
these brain-experts have all the answers or they think that they do,
so go ahead and listen to them and scoff at Morianity if you so
choose. At least I answer lots of questions that have most likely
been plaguing many of you in your own personal lives. You need not
make comments about it, as I know this is true no matter how silent
you wish to be.
Memories
are not something we retain like having a video of some family
vacation and then playing it back. No two people remember details of
things ranging from an accident to a murder to a great time with
friends on a beach or a ski mountain, in the same way, proving that
memory is not a tape loop of some event in our past, be it a minute
or ten years. Still and all, anyone can say what something is not. It
is a much larger feat to be able to rationally and simply, explain
successfully, what something IS. Let me try. Memory is not a truth
that we remember some event or some something. Memory is that a part
of us that is trapped or frozen in locked atomic time, takes all of
the observable things around us during these trapped time-pieces, and
this is what is focused on in a split circuit in MIND, or its sixth
dimensional signal to us as we appear to exist in fifth-dimensional
hyperspace waking life in one physical space-time universe. Memory is
not just seeing what is remembered. Memory is the side effect
generated by the full-event (what apparently is being remembered) and
this interaction to us, whatever that may be. I like to take my very
sharp memory of longer term, and compare it to those few times, where
it has seemingly been either blocked, or somehow interfered with by
some unknown source and force, other than I know it happens only when
the group that Morianity labels “THAT FAMILY” seems to be
directly involved. My two rapes by Paula King in 1969 and 1996,
bringing MI and PEE into life's great equation, the time that I left
Bob McGuire's botbar-BAR on 7 February of 1997, and other such
nightmarish incidents from the gates of deep-HELL, and my return trip
from the 1984 Throat-Specialist's Office; would be some of the main
events here, pertaining to THAT-FAMILY somehow 'quite mysteriously
and magically' causing my normal memory-ops to be totally blanked out
and gapped. Operating a mental exercise around these times where I
have been struck with some kind of technological gap-out of my memory
operations, is the only hope of putting together some of the powerful
and great things that lie behind these OZ CURTAINS FROM HELL. Can you
just begin to mother fucking imagine what I would have right now, if
I never was struck with the NEW JERSEY POLITICAL ENEMY OF
WOMOTAMM-MILITUFORCE, via the property inspector of Mullica in league
with Trailer Park owner Jenny Plageman, an dthen the King Family as
well? I would have access to detailed accounts on a taped life
journal, of all of these times. My journal spared no little details,
from all the disgusting little items in life's most personal areas
from when I took a shit or what color it was, to what I ate for
lunch, in vivid detail. All phone calls were bugged up, incoming and
outgoing, and the entire residence was as bugged up as the
Kennedy-Nixon White House ever was. I would now be able, seeing my
life in a brand new major light and perspective, to listen back to
exact shit from all of the days when all of these things were going
down mother fuckiGN live. HALLS FAWCES could never permit this to
have become a reality, and hence, they brought the New Jersey laws of
renters to be changed, the T3E inside of Jenny Plageman to be used
against me, and the T3E inside of the King family, as well. So
without using ESS to get into the political people, as well as the
personal enemies around me also; they never could have pulled it off,
and today I would have all of these tapes to go back and take to the
Geneva Convention people and the World Court at the dam Hague. I
also would have this literal storehouse of information at my own
disposal, right at my fingertips; to scrutinize and examine for life,
to make unraveling this nightmare mystery around me, that obviously
all pertains to PINK-GODDESS, and not PIN Goddess, sorry folks,
another TYPO, YO; but yes; I would have all of this for my own super
sleuthing, where as now, I can only wonder just what I would have
been able to do. These ESS mother fuckers took
away from me, my life, my property, and my sanity. If a
special place in fuckign cunt HELL is not existing to take these
people to their deserved fates of endless nightmares, then why even
bother to breathe?
Now
just as all bibles preach in various forms; there are good FAWCES and
bad FAWCES, and even STAR WARS seems to portray that reality as well,
Mister Hall. What has been done to me, cannot possibly be thought of
as coming from the good ones. Why there seems to be only the bad in
my life, is for people to ponder for coming centuries, should
Morianity catch fire and take off after I am soon dead and gone. I
can tell a zillion powerful things, but if you think that I'll ever
have an answer to give you about this, then you're five dozen cookoo
clocks all wired up together.
ALL
SAVANTS KNOW THIS: “THE END”
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 14
Ever
since that god dam PCP doctor stuck his finger up my asshole; it
hurts when I take a god dam shit. And they wonder why I don't want to
go through with that procedure where an entire fuckiGN small body-cam
is stuck all the way up into my god dam colon, crippling me for
fucking life, in a god dam fucking nation where you can't get
anything when you're in excruciating agony????? SSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOO,
Arthur Crane; I am planning to run away to Canada, or
someplace far the hell out of this very fucking oppressive evil
empire; before they totally tear my little
pathetic fragile body into pieces!!!!!!!!!! I
NEED A LAWYER!!!!!!!!!!
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GLOBAL
AUDIENCE BY SHADE RATIO:
This
photo is courtesy of The Weather Bug (TWB).
It
is early on a Tuesday evening, 5:08 Post Meridian, and this is 22
December, of 2015, with only two full shopping days remaining until
good old Christmas-Day. WEEEEEEEE!
Jeepers
Creepers Patty and Steve, tell Judge Judy that I have a question for
her, “What NEXT”????????????????????
Not
only does it hurt while shitting, big time, after he did this on that
day he gave me a very rough examination, but for almost a full 24
hours afterward, and then as soon as it feels OK again, kaput Mister
Quay, I need to fucking go all over again. I NEED A DAM
LAWYER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FCC,
my rights are being viciously violated, with one computer hack after
another these past days, weeks, months, years, decades!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They killed my mother fucking internet-Explorer. Let's see if I can
run it yet: OK, it is working again, following a nasty hack.
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SSSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOO;
can advanced dream-controller-travelers (ADCT) AKA (T3E) get into
more than just their own doubles of themselves in parallel worlds,
such as maybe electronic machines, other people around them, and any
other remotely possible things that can be imagined? The answer is an
unequivocal YES, and it is based on how advanced and good at what
they do, these TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON travelers of
the ESS truly are. When I get my so many hacks, it is hackers
from right here in ordinary normal reality, or from this
nee-nee-nee-nee Ufology-T3E deal? Well;
sometimes it is one thing, and sometimes, it's the other. That
would be my most simple answer to anyone asking this question of
me. But how exactly DOES MIND in its realm, effect all of us? First
off, MIND is not ever making decisions. Individuals in all universes,
make the actual decisions of each instant of time. MIND can cause us
to THINK thoughts, yes, and thus, take us into places while we 'sleep
and dream', as a result. But while we live in our own universe, we
make decisions no matter what stimulus is surrounding us. This has
perhaps the small limit of being subject to levels of physical
torture to the point where we would do anything rather than feel
another second of the inconceivable excruciating agony being given to
us by a capturing tormentor, and this would be the only exception
other than for direct biological interference, someone tricking us
with powerful illusion, or feeding us chemical and or non chemical
hypno-therapy. Other than for any of these almost ridiculous
exceptions, we make the decisions, while in our own universes. When
asleep, we appear to be out of control, but really, the truth is just
the opposite. We DREAM or better said, we observe as if watching a
movie, the parallel us, who over there are awake in their worlds, and
they are in control. However, a T3E can learn how to begin the
'dreaming-experience' on level T1E level of merely being recessant
and observant. Only through the developed art of becoming extremely
aware of your dreaming self however, can you even start to practice
any type of control over your double. If your double happens to be
another traveler, he or she will become onto the situation however,
the minute that they feel themselves feeling, thinking, or doing
anything outside of their normal routine at all. The trick is even
when dealing with regular doubles who are not dream-travelers, to
very slowly begin to indoctrinate them into things that would very
from their otherwise norms, or else, they'll think they're going mad,
and may even throw themselves off a cliff or take poison, or eat a
gun, or whatever, you get the idea. Even if they don't resort to
measures that drastic, they will fight you, should and if they become
at all aware of the situation. Every blog will contain a little more
informative data on exploratronic oriented material, enough not to
bore anyone or place them into mental overload. Still, I'll insert
just enough to whet appetites and keep you wanting to know more. I
hope my old pal SEABOTTOM is still doing his thing, and I do
value his service, and yes, I know; and yes, I have great respect for
all of the systems in place, to protect the citizenry from senseless
violence. We never had to contend with this
kind of monstrous shit when I was a boy, a young adult, or well into
my life and middle years. For that, I'll
thank my lucky stars. I don't envy my grandchildren one bit,
or anyone their tender age who has to grow up in this horrible wicked
world of endless woe.
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
WELL
GINA AND EVERYONE ELSE, I TOLD YOU!!!
Don't
ever believe a dam thing I say!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 13
HHHHHHHOOOOLY
HELL-WATER, SARAH CALLIO MARTINO; your retirement party is coming up
soon, and you need not concern yourself about inviting poor old
Mountainpen.
Your
big day is coming up too, other 'S. C.' initialed person, so
HO-HO-HO! MY BEST TO MERRY'S MOM!
DECEMBER
22, 2015,
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 1:15,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS 80 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-81/L-70).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 74%, FEELING LIKE 84.
WIND
IS SE AT 16, GUSTIMG SLIGHTLY TO 17.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---1.
MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2015.
I'm
back,
EVIL CHUCKIE, DAWN-MARIE, BEETLEJUICE NONSTAR, and FREDDY ELM!!!!!
AND MISTER MCDONALD SIR; with any and all great POKER-HANDS, “I'M
LOVIN' IT”!!!!!
WE
CAN PUT OR SHOUT, BUT ALL THIS IS GOING TO GET US IS LOTS OF DARK
SMELLY COAL IN OUR X-MAS STOCKING. HALLOWEEN 1974 WAS BAD ENOUGH FOR
YOU AND HALLOWEEN OF 1975 WAS BAD ENOUGH FOR ME, SO WHO NEEDS THAT
ADDED BASKET OF BAD KARMA?
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
YES
GINA, UP-UP-UP-UP, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!!
Doe,
a queer, a Ventnor queer
Ray,
the weapons used by scum
Me,
a name when used two times
Let's
me know that I'm all done
Fa,
this follows doe-ray-me
So,
the cool thing said by Crane
La-La-La-La-La
Then
comes tea which brings us dough.
And
that is all without any help from two musical and playwright greats;
Mister Rogers and Mister Hammerstein. Still, sing it to their cool
song and get a laugh on mother fuckiGN me, YO!!!
Oh
now quit play-acting to be Joe clueless, as one Kim Wild is enough,
with all of our weird chords back in the days of all Sleepy punished
Hollows; speaking of all Crane's, huh ARTHUR SIR? You were with me in
hyperspace, sir. WOW what a fucking ass adventure; forget Mister
Cannon. This defies even the imagination of most type three
exploratron travelers.
|
||||||||||
***(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))***
]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
KEYBOARDS
FROM PETAHELL ® 1980
MARK
WAYNE MOHR
PINK
GODDESSES & MORNING
LIGHTS
PINK
GODDESSES & MORNING LIGHTS
PINK
GODDESSES & MORNING LIGHTS
PINK
GODDESSES & MORNING LIGHTS
PINK
GODDESSES & MORNING LIGHTS
So
why do I go on so about hyperspace towel seepage, hyperspace
knowledge curvature ratios, and dreams/exploratrons/Fascitar tools,
and along this line, some ask me? Well then I will answer you.
Because in the future, of all worlds that survive the
humanity-struggle of absolute power corrupting absolutely, and yes,
that too is in a major curving reality in the fifth dimensional
hyperspace; all of this is a major part of all of that, and it also
most definitely rears its very ugly dam head in the personal life, of
one mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, and has since the day that he popped
out of his Moomy-deaest's joy-box, on 4 December of 1954.You all know
that some of the dreams that we have collectively had, you, me, and
those who we know of or know personally; have come true, like my
Lottery-Pick and the magic-cat, back in 1980, and other things, yet
more times than not, these dreams never come to pass in waking life.
This happens because of precise movements between worlds that
directly result from what Morianity refers to as the effects from
transdimensional towel-seepage. If we don't know how to make things
happen, we cannot use the tool, and effect any kind of even small
reliable control over the hyperspace-situation, for lack of any
better way for me to describe this reality. In other words, let us
say that I need to get back to Jersey and begin my life, and the
forces of Mister Hall and his pal fictional Darth Vader relentlessly
hack my life and stop me at every turn and move that I make towards
that goal and objective; then if I as a member of the ESS need to
overcome this power (force), Mister Darth Hall Vader; I must be able
to go to a parallel universe that is extremely localized to the one
where my body is powering me to be awake in, watch the TV news and
get a lottery number, and then go back to my own body that is laying
in bed and asleep. I need to then awaken and remember the experience
where I took over one of my hyperspace doubles and dominated him to
get a number, and remember it clearly. When I wake up with that
memory, I need to take this seriously, and go over to the store, and
play it. If the universe visited and dream-controlled, was close
enough in localization to the one where the actual lottery play is
done, I would win the lottery. It isn't cheating to play a number
from a dream. Still, many dream lottery numbers, and some few have
won as a result, and so a lot of folks still do not get how
hyperspace really works. Why some times, and not other times, in
other words? Well, many times you only think you were controlling a
dream, or you know already that you were not, and were just the
recessant dreamer of the experience that your double was actually
living through in his waking world parallel in hyperspace. Unless you
know that it is a very close in parallel (extremely localized), there
is only a chance you may have a duplicated effect back in your waking
world where the lottery ticket is later purchased by you. When you
lose a loved one, your mind is in pain. You try to be wit that loved
one after death therefore, in parallel universes, hence we dream
about those who die, quite often, especially during the very intense
period that follows immediately after their death. Sometimes we move
onto very localized parallels, while other times, not so much. I
remember many of the times with my own mother. Sometimes the city of
Philadelphia was very similar, other times it had major differences,
but she is still my mother, or my mind would not have taken me into
that interaction at that universe. After a bad automobile accident,
you may find yourself exploring around parallels where you are having
that same accident only with various similar but not exact items,
that happened in your waking world accident. Sometimes you may
experience the accident that your double had in a parallel universe,
before you have your accident in the waking world, and you would see
that as ''dreaming the future''. Once hyperspace, dreaming, and
exploratron truths are known about and understood, all of life's
paranormal mysterious clear up, including the Ufological related
items as well.
As
for my note under the door, recently and ever since then, my nabes
around me, have been going in and out quite fuckiGN spuriously after
midnight, and until four in the dam morning; Sheriff Mascara. Just
so you know.
This
is causing the stock market to climb illegally, on my back as well,
kind Sheriff sir!!!!!
Well, now this has all been said, for now, YO!
Well
Molly Ringworm Scratches, and others;
there are many things that need
a bit more discussing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The coverup of the New Jersey Board of Education of what was done to
me that destroyed my life, in conjunction with child molester Tom
Reale, and how it was all plotted and planned quite meticulously in a
horrendous monstrous fuckiGN collusion of despicable evil devilish
people from hell, and how my mom knew a lot of this, and had me sent
away, not just to the private school where I met Mike McNulty, but a
whole bunch of other things all happened, between her, her coworker,
and yes, the great United States Military, or one of their
departments, known as the Merchant Marines. I had a card from them,
and had joined them as an ordinary seaman, and was all set to go to
sea and have a whole different life, and I have no memories at all of
how my dad and his pal Mister Einstein, and that dam fucking rotten
invisibility experiment, all acted in with all of this, but I know
that both my dad and I, had our entire paperwork changed around. One
day I woke up and was told that the president of the United States
did something, and that I was no longer in the service. They all know
what is happening, and they all know that PINK GODDESS RULES SUPREME,
and that SHE indeed is hovering out there all around our galaxy, and
whether SHE is with me or not with me, Mister HALL; something sure
the fuck is!!! Part of this has to do with a very strange girl named
Roseann Delaney from a home in Haddonfield, New Jersey, who would
visit and walk past me and try and talk to me, every evening at
exactly twilight evening as it was darkening and after the sun had
set, while I was out with my cat, Ziggy, at the apartment I lived at
in Westmont, New Jersey, 125-A Haddon Hills, on Pyle Avenue. Is it
only fitting now for me to say, “Well my-my-my”, or just “Hello
Vietnam and sergeant Carter”???????? In any event, mom's shipping
company coworker was instrumental in my going to get my Mariners Sea
Card, in the seventies, and this is a very complicated story, and is
why to this very day, I have strange hyperspace travels about being
near the Independence Mall in Philly, and all sorts of wild shit is
happening all around me. This went onto lead me to a house owned by
this coworker of my mom, who indirectly made sure that I learned
about the secret Astral-Plane travel tool, called, 'FASCITAR'!!!!!!!
It also led me to a house on a highway, years later in early 1984, a
full seven years in the future, where somehow, my life was BLUCRAN
altered, so that I never was a seaman. It has something to do with my
dying in the South American early eighties conflict, a traveler who
visited me at the river job with incredible UFO-TYPE powers like
Mister 1974 Beachman, and making sure that enough thickness of 5-D
STM exists in localized hyperspace, so that I would be around in
1995, to remember about SARAH KRASSLE, and to do Morianity. I know
this sounds like some super far out fucked up SYFY fiction story, and
something to maybe even make the creators of both Star Trek and Star
Wars totally fucking salivate over, but the trouble is people, it is
not fiction. This is god dam fuckiGN all totally real. I
will be saying some things about
my time in Florida
and how in my opinion, this BAD-25-TRIP,
was planned from decades ago, when I was here before at the tail end
of 1983, in Orlando, with my Chief Recording Engineer, Mister Howard
Solomon, from the RPL SOUND STUDIOS, of Camden, New Jersey!
Several mysterious things happened while I was staying at his Orlando
home for about three or four days. One is a memory fuck up, as I have
almost a perfect photographic memory of my entire life back to the
very day I came out of my mom's dam loins and saw the snow coming
down outside of the Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania hospital window! Yet, I
do not have much clear recall to that trip, other than when I spoke
to three individuals. One was a strange man who 'popped up' at
Howard's little roadside restaurant. Another was a Publix Employee in
town, when Howard and I went shopping and I purchased a one pound bag
of plain M&M Candies. The third was an awesome gorgeous young
chick at an office, who fell for me like a ton of bricks, yet Howard
insisted she did not like me at all and that I had imagined it, and
told me with some decent amount of fervor. When I feel like telling
this, you will know more about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. But, as with heaven, this can all wait, to quote
most mortals. No one is ever one bit to anxious to go to heaven. I
never met a dam soul who was. They believe, but they are not in any
hurry to get to this dam awesome place. This reminds me of a lawyer
who was one of the clients of my RPL job while I was employed there
between late July of 1979 and middle March of 1981. He said and I
quote, “Pain is a window into hell. Suffering is the work of the
devil”. Why does this make me think of that, you wonder? In a very
brief and condensed way, just allow me to say this much for right
now, please. Faith in a Supreme Entity is sort of that window, only
we substitute hell with heaven. Life for the vast majority, here on
this Earth, entails a great deal of suffering. Only a hand picked few
on this planet have magical lives like Donald Trump. He knows it, and
we all know it. So we suffer and we suffer, and we wonder, and I
wonder; why then is no one ever EVER in any hurry at all, to go to
HEAVEN, and be rid of “THE DEVIL” forever and ever and ever? Hey,
don't ask me, and I won't ask any of you for dam crissake. Another
WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
When
I feel like telling this, you will know more about a connection to
the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north. When I feel like telling this, you will know more
about a connection to the
great HOLLISTER HIGHWAY HOUSE,
from back up north.
Don't
beat me up too badly, Katy and Adele.
Where
are you when I need you; Sir Clarence Harris?
END
TRANSMISSION.
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
PEACE
OUT, YO!
Without
my god dam FIREFOX-BROWSER, the blogs look all fucked up and
stupid-ugly. Oh well, I can pay the Staples Guru and eat crackers and
warm tea for two to six fucking weeks, or I can eat better, and look
fucking dumber. STUPID-UGLY, a great way to express how a non-FF
browser, seems to interact with the Blogger software. OH
SHEEEEEEEEIT!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
- THE GREAT AWESOME 'TWB'; YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!
Poolroy-95;
and the
mayor,
but not the Mayor
of France;
and poor
old screwed up Mountainpen;
we're all just so dam endlessly CLUELESS, along with maybe the kids
of America and that lovely teen queen Kim Wild. Holy Disney Punches.
The
reason my blog won't grow, is because I have only ESS-dream-travelers
reading it and maybe a few family-enemies and a couple Fort Pierce
locals from time to time as well. Until I can afford to get the guru
to help me as told before, this will keep growing at approximately
one fortieth of one million page-views annually, (25,000). IE, I am
just pissing into the wind as well as totally wasting my time. Only
by telling a group of ever growing ''real open minded listeners'' of
topics that this blog discusses on a regular basis, can I even have a
glimmer of hope of any life changes for me; as originally promised to
me, by co-worker Christopher Bennett, and local library consumer and
country music laptop computer down-loader, Edward (Himacane) Lynch.
Oh well, I suppose to survive, I will have to half starve. This sort
of reminds me of some mother fucking television commercials, about
overly expensive medical costs and drug prescription costs; where
people my age and older, are discussing the negative ramifications of
poverty, as it relates to their personally needing to choose between
buying food, or their very necessary medications. Oh well, my
wonderful lovely politicians up there on the Washington Hill, I guess
my only apropos words here would be, SAY-LEVY, in or out of great
FRANCE!!! And yes, I'm being totally ''dead-ass-serious about keeping
my dam mind out of their sewer pipes, both when my blogs all began in
2006, as well as up here a decade later, just a week or so away from
god dam twenty-sixteen. Funny too, folks; I will be age 61,
for just over eleven of the twelve months of the year 2016,
as in the 16 and 61 inverts again, with or without great pink goddess
star-dates, baseball team victories with Harry Callas, and great
musical artists and their numbers and their birth-dates. You know
folks, and not just those up there in the © Office; if you can buy
into all of that perfect symbolic connectiveness not being some
stupid random happenstance series of events, then as I said and now
will reiterate; without seeing your brains on an operating table,
this permits me to know and realize, that you're all totally dam
lobotomized! It isn't just being 61 in 2016, but I was also 14 in 69
and 41 in 96, that's nineteen-sixty-nine, and nineteen-ninety-six,
great folks and ESS-Travelers, and whoever?
So
as for hyperspace awareness curving ratios from any given fixed point
universe, in relationship to the others surrounding them; one must
first realize that localized hyperspace can be examined as the very
first number category as per the previously explained system used by
World Labs late in the twenty-two hundreds, this being, 1-001. This
one seemingly tiny little digitation, is all that ever gets examined.
Even one percent of this extremely localized hyperspace, can seem
quite distant on its outer fringes towards that full one percent of
of the first potential one three thousandths of all of the entire
fifth dimensional multiverse system. Taking things to
0.000000000000000000000000000001232321% of that area, barely alters
the probability of more than a few millions of atoms being arranged
in slightly different order, in the full expansion universes. In
easier words and terms, the odds that maybe a couple of pieces of
dust on one piece of furniture on each country on planet Earth
somewhere, may be one inch from where they would be on that same
piece of furniture, on a neighboring parallel multiversal reality, or
NPMR. Measuring NPMR, takes somewhat of a large technology, as well
as something that would make today's best cubit computer technology
seem as antiquated by comparison, as those old bead manual adding
machines from China, that led to the very concepts and ideas of
creating better calculators and adding machines,and eventually the
most mickey mouse computers imaginable, in the basements, and secret
workshops, of Mister Jobs and Mister
Wozniak.
If
you like being brought back down to Earth for a while now, great
people; you can click onto that great COMCAST web-site. Here is one
quick tiny part of it. I love their cool site, and you will too, most
likely!
More
Less News
BOY
OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY; MOM!
WHAT
NEXT, HONORABLE JUDY S???
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA,
Mister Michael McNulty, from 1971 Church Farm School, of Exton,
Pennsylvania, USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!
JJJJJJJJJJJEEEEEEE
FOLKS, I JUST LOVE THE GREAT COMCAST AND XFINITY. I REMEMBER STARING
AT MY FOUR DAM WALLS WHEN I FIRST BEGANLIVING UP ON 26TH AND AVENUE
E, IN THE END OF TH ESPRING TIME IN THE YEAR 2010, LIVING IN APRIL
LEE'S PLACE, AND THAT WILD WEIRD STEP-DAD OF HERS, AND THAT BEYOND
WEIRD NUTCASE, WENDY. NOW THOSE WERE SOME TIMES. NO TV, NO RADIO, NO
NOTHING, JUST FOUR WALLS, A FURNACE HOT HOME, AND A HORRIBLE JOB AT
HARVEST OUTREACH, WHERE I WAS VICIMIZED SEXUALLY, AS IF I WAS BAQCK
LIVING WITH TOM FUCKING REALE AGAIN IN LATE JUNE AND INTO JULY, BACK
IN 1970. IT IS ALL ACCESSABLE ON MY BLOGS, BUT YOU NEED TO ARCHIVE
THE OLDER ONES AS SHOWN BELOW, AS AFTER LATE IN 2011, THEY HACKED ME
OUT, AND I HAD TO BEGIN THIS FINAL NEW SIXTH
BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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