CHAPTER 47, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 47

THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH FOR COMING OVER TO VISIT ME LAST NIGHT, BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING. YOU WERE BEYOND TOTALLY AWESOME, AS ALWAYS; LOVELY BABY BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jumping bad attitudes cubed; what a wild life I live. My assholes next to me have been told by the dude who lived in there before me, to mess with me, just as he screwed with me, and pretended to be my pal. He caused all the problem that got me screamed at by that CLEANING-LADY from the Crime Watchers Desk. She and lifer-JAMES are not ever going to leave, and I must, if I want to escape these horrible mother fuckers.

Every time my blogs discuss suicide, my viewing audience drops in half or more, and I have been running that 'test' for years now. Oh sure I am feeling low and blue and even fucking suicidal, but I fear GOD and HELL way too much to commit murder! The same sky poisons that make me wheeze and cough, and are working on me for the past 48 hours or so, also is making Mike do likewise. He was worse than I am, when we spoke on the phone. The second I said hello to him, Diana flashed a huge colorful lightning bolt outside my window, and then she kept putting her lovely lightning all over me for an hour or so. IWALU so, and I need your codes to show, PRECIOUS GIRL from 1983!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, there may be a zillion things to discuss, but I am going to talk to myself only, and ignore whoever reads me, as this blog is my own notes and memory, and the entire world can go blow its nose for all I give a hellfire damnation, squared! People of 2016 and for the past half century, are totally unable to appreciate the gift given freely to them, visa vee; MORIANITY!

It's eight past one, Jane Whore Motherfucker, and you missed me, you wicked rotten SWD! Today is Ron Wirtz Senior Scotland Yard anniversary day #26, right Sergeant Smarzinski and Lieutenant Sack-of-piss of Voorhees? Some things cannot ever be forgotten. Even if my brain is eaten away with everything from cancer to AHD; I will remember these horrible mother fuckign past pieces of my life of total nightmare burning breathing hell. If I had my way, something that happened in a localized parallel reality, would happen to a lot of folks who have done these monstrous and dastardly deeds to me for 30 years. I was in some weird building like a nut case ward, and it was owned by my miserable rotten Cousin Donald the KING OF ICPE-APES in all jungles. When someone acted up five times in the same calendar year in this place, they were tied up to a pole with duct tape, and another piece was placed on the patient's mouth, real tight. They were blindfolded and told it can happen any time in the next five minutes. What is this IT thing, you ask me? If it is near bed time, you may be sorry you asked. A clothes pin was then attached to the nostrils, sealing them up. Don't even try this at home for ten seconds. You would be very sorry to ignore my warning. Still, decades before this terrorism problem got this bad, the patients referred to this as Terror Hall, where this was done. It's been said that viewing this would be tantamount to observing hell on Earth in its closest form. A few years after I saw this as a patient there myself, this double of me from that parallel universe was visited again by me here. This became the fave torture of the terrorists there, who were known as GODS-JURY.

Yes, the world is an amazing place, just as I have said and contended all along. I would join Gods Jury in this parallel world, other than for one reason. They don't promote freedom, but to the contrary, they discourage individuality, freedom of self expression; and they are all for the austere absolute rigidity of encouraged conformity, to their ideas of GOD. There is one god, and Allah-Elohim is the same god that all of us feel deep within, as we take final breaths, and shutter at what might come next. This same exact one true GOD is never a promoter of murder, but instead, is a god of love, demanding justice for sinners, yes; but with the mercy of allowing people to have free will, so they can choose whether they wish to live with this Almighty creative force in Sahasra Dal Kanwal, or exist outside of it in a form of spiritual outer darkness, caused by the full realization that endlessness is real, and that they are lost in forever, without this great PINK GODDESS! If this group believed a truer reality, I'd join them in a heartbeat, but nowhere does Pink Goddess promote murder, or the removal and hatred of individualism.

Anyone with smarts, is always able to take any writing, from religious texts of ages back into iniquity, to a blueprint of the Washington Monument, and make something that is not there, appear, as in a parlor trick illusion. Many haters of the Christian faith have taken a lot of scriptures and used them to create powerful and very dangerous cults, for a century or so now. It is a very clever stunt indeed, but those who fall victim to those cults and somehow manage to survive and even become eventually extricated from them, will never laugh at what was done to them and is being done to others, repeatedly. Without attempting to propagate a myth here, kind folks; beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and what we like, love, hate, and believe as personal truth, is like the relative taste of the proverbial person who kissed the cow. Even cold harsh down to Earth impersonal truths such as formulas and mathematics, can exist for long periods throughout human history, and never properly used to produce powerful truths that surround each one of us here in this every day normal routine daily life. Not one scientist agrees with me, that these cold hard strict non changing mathematics can be used to measure human life and humanity in general, dividing them from Mountainpen and his Morianity, big hypertime gargantuan cubed! Ever since the summer time of 1982, I figured out how to connect the so called (David Leigh Cooley Hall impersonal world of mathematics), into human equation, using measurement values in numeration, to reflect the type of days I was having, day by day by day by day. This lead to a formula where my entire life could very easily be graphed and placed on what I came to call, my LIFE-CHARTS. Every bit as real as the technical charts that reflect bullish and bearish moves in the stock market and other markets; this very same impersonal-mathematics became transferable data, into my very personal tangible real human life. Without my doing this, kind people, YO; I never would have had real proof-on-paper, after August of 1986, as to just how my life had suddenly altered on a dime on that magical cursed fucked up fifteenth day of that month and year. All of this does lead up to a lot of powerful things, such as how five people standing at a roulette table who all are keeping track of their own private HOT-NUMBERS, can cause an interactive effect that goes onto further prove many major things discussed in my ten year MORIANITY project and blog! To even open this topic up in the smallest way right now, would make this blog a thousand pages long. Don't worry or fret, as the old song goes; and to quote lovely and highly intelligent JUJU here, “IT'S NOT HAPPENING”!!!

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 47

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THE NEXT BLOG WILL BE CHAPTER 48.

© BOM 2006-2016 MARK WAYNE MOHR

BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

HHHHHHHOOOOLY SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT.

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