THE
GREAT FINAL ELECTRICAL NUMBER OF 2015
SUPPLEMENTAL
BLOG ENTRY OF 12-27-2015
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MIKE MCNULTY, AND CPR-95.
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NON-OZ-NON-OZ-NON-OZ
Dkrityipapmambvgdmh0808080808080808080808
Oh
great & powerful Federal Bureau of Investigation, this poor old
sixty one year old American citizens is real tired of being HACKED
ever since buying my first of three computers, in
the summer of 1997 at the Tandy Radio Shack, from Don, Craig, and
Fred, the three employees there at the White Horse Pike Berlin, New
Jersey Shopping Plaza. 272727272727272727272727272727:
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GETTING TECHNICAL
Now
making things up as we go along, seems to freak out people like Terry
from Egg Harbor City, and so many others on television; but as
we move along, normally, we learn and we grow. So if a live
story-biography such as mine, is being told, it would be totally
illogical for me to agree with this sort of standardized way of
literary no-no methodologies, as well as copy them, and allow my
Morianity to be lost in politically correct acceptance. Yes,
many folks have come to Fort Pierce, following me down here
literally. Some my distant family, some part of the ESS naturally,
and still others, whoever and whatever they REALLY are, some are the
soldiers on my side of this army-fight, praise the
GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, to get into to much when I am this
weak, beginning the 28th
mother fucking day of last August in 2013, as you all know, or should
know unless someone is totally new to the blogs and Morianity and
Mountainpen, as you all know my problem with MUSIC, only none of us
really can know WHY this music problem exists, but a child on moron
pills can see it plain and clear as days spent with Johnny Nash. In a
super compressed nutshell my good folks, here is what I can, and
thus, WILL say and tell right now before closing out this blog for
this night. SSJKK wants me to know who she is, back as Sarah Nurockey
in the sixties of Atlantic City, as well as early in the seventies in
Coolie Hall of Haddonfield, New Jersey, as another Sarah, Mizz beyond
super girl white hot Jacobson. Then there is now, which until the
middle and late nineties, I was as clueless to this newest and
latest incarnation on her part, as a new born baby would be to the
great formula of E=MC
SQ.
BUTTTTTT
little by little; she did things, that made me know, that she indeed,
is my SARAH
KRASSLE;
and she can just go on denying it all she wants to; because we both
know it is true. When I went walking underneath Central Pier, I never
hit my head on a low beam. Paula King, street name when my kid's mom
was in that area and at that time and having marital woes and was
philandering around without ever leaving her house many times, as a
what else, T3E, still, one year after she had her way with me on the
first Saturday in July's 1969 year, she popped up again, most likely
exploratronically. She entered into my head and made me believe that
I had hit a low cement beam underneath the pier. Then she told me
that she did what she did a year ago from this early July morning ion
1970 and that I may want to know that I have a very lovely non Amanda
Harris Jones daughter, State Police of New Jersey and government
intimidations clubs of the north. When I was later on walking down
Tennessee Avenue still dazed from it all, no copyright Office, the
thrill of my life did not come along, only thoughts in my head that I
have to be imagining this, as it is so fucking totally crazy. The
only problem was that I was holding onto a newspaper that this lovely
woman had given to me. It was the Wildwood Press, dated one of the
first 6 days in July of 1970, please do not ask me which one, I
merely have a powerful memory that it was somewhere between the first
and the sixth day, and it could have been any one of these six. This
paper was inside of a thin box. It had buttons to touch and was
filled with bright blue and yellow prompts. I remember getting to
Pacific Avenue and catching the Jitney-Bus south to Cornwall Avenue,
and going home before going out and swimming again. I also remember
having a towel with me, and wrapping this thing up inside of this
large white towel, and before leaving the area of the Central Pier, I
also took a short dip in the sea. When I had come back from my second
swim, and walked back to child molester Thomas J. Reale's rental
property where he had me staying, and abused me sexually, twice in
there; first by hand, and second orally; I took a nap and got up and
it was around 7 in the evening. Ziggy had just told me to get lost as
many who know my ugly story of 1979, know all about this. He was my
boy-hero, and I cried every day and night and could not figure out
why he told me to ''Go home'' and would not speak to me any longer.
Later of course, I learned, not from my mom going back and talking
with him, as he
never dared tell the total truth to the ugly monstrous things going
on in Atlantic City,
but I learned he wanted me home and out of there, not just to be with
''peeps my own age more'', or because he was concerned about Reale
the molester, not
that these things were not more than sufficient.
Ziggy and Trinidad Hotel Manager Soifer, and Restaurant Owner Pincus,
all three right within a few years of all of this shit in 1970; all
died from a horrible form of what is known as Galloping
Cancer;
a type of cancer that is on steroids and runs much faster than
ordinary cancers, taking a patient to the grave in record times.
Ziggy supposedly died in 1973, and Pincus and Soifer, all went within
a year one way or the other of Ziggy. These three dudes all knew what
had happened to me with Tom Reale, and were now considered by Chicago
Mob Boss Gallagher, to be extremely dangerous loose ends. They never
died of fucking galloping cancer, all were murdered and died really
horrific agonizing deaths. My old blogs from 2006-2009 speak about
all this hellish nightmarish shit time and time again, it is all
there to be archived by any one of you at any time. The ESS is
powerful and something connected to all of it had to be covered up.
One of these travelers had obviously somehow managed to bring back to
1970 physically, what now in 2014 and form the past few years, is
called, a ''TABLET''. Only this tablet was very advanced, containing
the PEEF, or the PEE FEATURE. I remember to this very minute in
future time, folks, the word on the side of this thing that I used to
just call the Wildwood Press paper placed inside of some weird thin
box containment. By tapping certain keys, you became a part of this
networking cloud system and actually were mentally transported into
it where it was simulating reality as if you were there. I can only
wonder if the logo PEEF meant anything to do with my genius computer
younger daughter, lovely PEE. In 1970, she was not close to being
born, this would be almost 27 years out in the future on March 29 of
1997.
Still,
I will hear what someone told me recently ringing in my ear for a
thousand freaking ass years. “Why would your baby mama think to
look you up or think the kid was yours when you are as white as a
puff cloud? She was probably unhappy in her marriage and was flinging
around with several guys, and never would have suspected you as the
daddy”. All this time I hated my mother, I hated my kids mother,
and really, I am so dumb and so stupid ass. You see, ask any
biologist, every six generations, a white-black mixed couple has a
descendant, usually one, so if I had had siblings, this would have
come out a long time ago, only this was not the case as I was indeed
an only child, for
'Buzzer death-droid Mortino' to
scan me all the time and annoy me to non-death, you know,
''first-born''. Still, between this, the chemtrails doing the same
kind of damage to the both of us, and about a dozen other things if
you think about it for a minute or two; and most of you can see why
this all happened. As I began putting this all together in 2008, the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE made things 100 times worse. Anybody smart enough
out here to see why this had to happen, or are the IQ numbers going
to remain averaging in middle high double digits forever. Still and
all, I am supposed to just live and do this Morianity, and all things
as I now look back in 20-20 perfect frikkin' hindsight, makes
powerful and perfect sense. It is as easy to see that this was all
carefully meticulously planed out by very special powerful peeps from
even the very day of my birth, and very possibly, long before my
birth. Only those with real seminary knowledge can get into these
things, and then, most would think words like blasphemy and delusions
of grandeur and all sorts of varying mental illness and general
psychotic features. Only trouble is that I know this is not the case,
as I have lived and survived through way too much to fall for that
fucking bull crap,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When
enough stuff keeps happening in the real world that insists that
something is there, then you are not imaging it. These
are or were, the great words of wisdom, not of John Lennon, not of
Richard Marcucci;
not even of Misses Marola; but of the
most glass half full person you will ever come to meet,
Mister David
Leigh Smith, back
in autumn 1970,
at Haddonfield,
New Jersey,
in
the Cooley Hall;
Sir
ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH,
PROGRAMMING OVERRIDE! You're
#2, lovely Twinbay!
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL
12
local South Florida TV.
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.
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Advisory Colors Key
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Winter Storm Watch
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Flood Warning
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Non-Precipitation Advisory
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Flood Statement
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My
blogs, archive them.
THE
WEATHER BUG,
In Partnership With
and
shared by this blogger, who may be contacted through:
Local Weather Cameras
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
Yes
King David, Talk
about wanting to freaking wash your hands!
Holy
mother of fucking goddess, I assure you, my pants are not on fire;
but I am quite well
done and broiled!!!!!
No
folks, this is most certainly NOT:
APRIL
18, 2014,
FRIDAY
MORNING AT 3:08,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 73 DEGREES FNHT.
WOW,
the old fucking (`~-HACK) is coming back every once in a while, as it
just did now, YO!
BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT
IT MOST DEFINITELY IS INDEED:
(June
26, 2007), around 22 past noon. Urgent reading!
Now
it is the next day, 062607.515, on an early Tuesday afternoon,
and where am I but good old Winslow Coopers Fools Library,
across from the Jersey Columbine Non Hyperspace. No giant
sluts to greet me at the door, and no teenaged huge sumo
wrestlers either, praise the SAR. This past weekend and Sunday
was the worst elevator ride of my life off of the sixth
dimension. Do not even try to grasp what I went through. It
was literally like getting into the ring with both Mike Tyson,
and the devil itself. I can only ask the question that I am
able to survive all of this because some power far beyond what
any tiny conscious mind can ever hope to really get any type
of handle on.
Wait
a minute Mohr, you don't know Rodney Hickey Brindammor of the great
Philly 57 Flyers? Well not only is she no longer ''like-21'', but the
date again is, according to all red hot young twenty something
shampoo commercial ad-spot lovelies,
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
W---R---O---N---G!!!!!!!
Christ
Almighty; between hands washing distant secret relation bosses, two
Misses Grenvilles, and eight go dam W---R---O---N---G's, we all may
go as batty as moor cousin did in middle late twenty ohm Marola nine,
up at his Plaza hotel when Leticia and I were seen at the gaming
tables of his GAP-CASINO!!! My mouth;s bleedin' Burt; so don't hit me
again, Sam Hill.
Several
things have been stolen out of this apartment and people need to go
to jail, Fort Pierce Police and FBI, and Sheriff K. J. Mascara. A
Radio Shack antenna for high-def was stolen from this place, even
before the Copyright form was, and all my medications, and canned
foods, and much more; on that day the so-called Crime
Stoppers cleaning lady,
did her thing and ''cleaned
me out''.
It has to be one of th ePHA peeps as only they have keys, SHERIFF. I
wish you would not permit me to be an endless victim, and be allowed
to keep what few things that I work very hard and skimp, to have, off
of my very meager disgraceful Social Security benefit amount, after a
lifetime of working at rotten horrible fucking jobs where this nation
took it upon themselves to persecute and harass me so badly, that it
totally wrecked my health as well as my entire life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If
my pal the fellow Wall Street Hater, could be voted in, all you
stupid ass so-called Americans out there, WE
WOULD BEGIN to know some prosperity again,
us poverty stricken 99% of the
population!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I would love to know what world, those who decided to not give any
small raise to the Social Security recipients on following year, live
in. Food has jumped way up, and so have prices on any item that I can
think of, other than for oil and gas. Being someone who hardly drives
except to doctors and local shopping errands, I use very little
gasoline, and feel the big price difference in many items ranging
from every product that I consume to eat or drink. My best guess is
that prices have gone up in the past five years at least 20%, if we
don't include gas and oil. I doubt that one third of this twenty has
been increased for what we have to try and manage our lives with, and
2016 gave us a 0 increase. What a bunch of mother fucking dirt bag
cock suckers if there ever ever really were any, peeps,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
BETTER WAKE FUCKING UP, AMERICAN FUCKING MAJORITY OUT
HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is now 3:21 Post Meridian, and is 80 degrees here in town, feeling
like 85 with a 76% R. H. ''Like you give a shit''; Cuzz
Donnie???????? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
ALL
SAVANTS KNOW THIS ONE, “THE END”.
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