GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 89
FEBRUARY
1, 2016,
MONDAY
EVENING AT 7:13,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 71 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-81/L-61).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 87%, FEELS LIKE 76.
WIND
IS SE AT 7, WITH GUSTS TO 15.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---00.
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©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2016
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
Oh
jumping Callio Jungles, what next for poor old me, lovely
JUJU??????????????? 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? Like WOW and WO, Macy & Harner, YO. Keep it shut
Mister McNulty!
I
got through my inspection this morning. I was shown an area that
needed me to take a butter knife and a little soap suds water to, and
is why I seem to have so many roaches, so this actually helped me to
get through two problem birds, with one sling shot from my wonderful
Quakertown, Pennsylvania, early nineteen-hundred-sixties days, when
I was called by the entire playground; the
champion with the black snake. This snake was a piece of
stretchy rubber that many folks have found along roads. They result
from special kinds of truck tires expelling them as they drive, and
get a flat. Placing these over playground parallel bars, and pulled
simultaneously on both ends; will sent the things flying quite high
into the air. My King David days from
some time ago, are still within my genetic talent pool. What other
explanation would there be? Still, I will clean out this area that I
never thought about other than for the fact that no matter how much
you cleaned it, nothing came off. I am speaking of the ugly black
crap inside of the soft material that lays in-between refrigerators
that make contact as the door closes. Roach eggs are what they are.
Now that I know this, I can get rid of them by using a butter knife
and then cleaning it out inside with a hot sudsy rag! Us guys live
and learn about house cleaning I suppose to the day that we die. Come
soon Lord Jesus, thank you!!! Or a fatal heart attack, either or, but
no repeats of 26 December at Cifaloglio when I ended up speaking to
GOD and then was forced to return back here to this horrible
life-hell that most peeps seem to treasure and love so dam dearly,
hell-a-puke-yuk!
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,
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,
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,
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet,
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet,
I
despise my mother fucking life with an Italian passion, cubed,
squared, and Cuban; Dawn-Marie, Whaneeta, Cuba, and Somirah. What are
the odds that a girl who I picked up one day, while I was driving
home from my job at Roadway, in Pennsylvania-USA; was one of Dawn's
friends, who I was not destined to meet, until I first met her
downstairs nabe at Judge Raso's rooming-house in Hammonton, New
Jersey, about half a decade later on, Mister Ed Himacane Lynch? Cuba
lived in Camden with her dad, clear across the state of New Jersey,
from where she lived later on in Atlantic City. When I tried to
contact her half a dozen times, shortly after our original encounter,
she refused to speak to me, as if her job was already done. Yes, I
smell the fucking stench of the Exploratronic Supermind Society here,
BRO! My problem is not so cock sucking much the ESS, as it is that no
one will believe me. Little green men, Irish imps, Irish Leprechauns,
little green and gray space-men, alien abductions, medical
experiments done on abductees, washcloth dream-family from hell of
1970---AKA 'That-Family', DNA experiments, it all fits somehow, no
matter how many mother fuckign jerk offs want to laugh and scoff at
my cunt chewing nightmare life of unfathomable hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
great disco queen diva, Donna Summer
believed in something that I have come to know to be totally real.
She called it the:
“Mister
Big Shot Syndrome”.
This
is nothing to laugh about, and it is why the stupid have blinders on,
and the few smarter ones would never dream of calling the great
wonderful Mister Bernie Sanders, a socialist. Once upon a time,
before this evil empire rigged the game, he would be. If this was
half a century ago, someone such as this would be. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT
folks, when shit is all 100% fucking rigged against anyone who is not
in the possession of a hundred million or more dollars, and we are
doomed to a lifetime of slavery and drudgery and 'yezzir-mazzur'
lifestyle to the owner controller wealthies and super wealthies out
there, THEN
ALL OF THOSE OLD RULES CHANGE FOREVER.
It
is NOT mother fucking socialistic to demand a level playing field,
which
is now totally gone in America,
or a fair chance to do anything at all unless we can buck odds of a
third of a billion to one, and hit a powerball
lottery jackpot.
All ignorant people who cannot see this is our final chance with this
great guy, and vote him in, well, join the fools club of the dust
particles and then go onto elect yourselves the President and General
Manager and Chief Executive Officer, in one gigantic fell swoop,
YO!!!!!!!! I watch shit from CNN to World News, and sit back watching
the dam blind leading the blind. LIKE-WOW, to quote the smarter
bunch, the great kids of America, huh Kimmy Wilde YO??????????
KEEP
READING ALONG, AS:
JUST
BECAUSE YOU RECOGNIZE WORDS,
Never
assume there is not any new reading material.
3-6-9,
Frank Callio, Astral Realms, and Nicola Tesla. WOW, there was an
old OUTER LIMITS syfy show about
a fictional radio station called KXKVI. This entity that would be a
little like my wonderful coil, the Lightning Goddess Diana, was
contacted, and transported by accident to the human realm and to
Planet Earth. It was a fantastic show, as all the Outer Limits shows
were really super ass fantastic. Anyway, this entity spoke through a
translator machine, in similar ways that the great powerful U. S. ©
Office knows all too well about from my 1988 music projects where
Diana spoke to me, only repressed memories, road trips to relative's
homes, and tape recorders were more involved with the reality of the
situation, only I had not yet un-repressed my memory, and was not
destined to until living with the great almighty King family, 20
years later. This is a very significant time period may I also add,
20 years, or one briper. On the Astral-Plane, the BRIGGBASE POWERS
make many deals with humans, for one briper, or 20 years. The great
television show, 'DARK SHADOWS' knows about this somehow as well, as
in the late 1969 and early into 1970 circa, with Paul Stoddard, and
the mighty Briggbase Cult deal made with him, and the name was
changed of course to the Leviathan and not the Briggbase people.
Lovely crossed over Jenny Ghost Whispering Hewitt talks about 'the
breathers' on her great hit show. Well, the Briggbase, are the VERY
HEAVY breathers. Ask any real Dark Shadows fan, as they'll freaking
ass tell you without any qualms or trepidation, let alone one tiny
bit of hesitation!!!!!!!!!!! You know the silliest mother fuckign
part of all of everything? They know I could say shit that would
change the world tomorrow. I would be locked up an dissected, and
gone. So what would I possibly have to fucking gain by doing the
ultimate stupid move, when no one is one bit appreciative of all that
I have told already? The answer is absolutely nothing, so I will
never tell the real shit that would close down the planet in hours,
that is of course, if anyone other than my rotten diseased family,
and sicko power hungry government agent spies, were really up
here!!!! If they were, and they are not, my blog would not remain in
a precise averaged monthly count for three years. It would begin to
either shrink away and be just about gone, or it would expand and
grow, and by now, be at least triple the monthly average of about two
large!
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
CHAPTER
88
Weekday
Tropical
Beaches!!
WOW
WHAT A JOB I DID CLEANING, OH WONDERFUL HOUSING INSPECTORS OF FORT
PIERCE. AFTER I FINISH THIS SHORT WHITTLE BWOG, MISTER FWUDD, I AM
GOING TO HANG UP MY BRAND NEW FREAKING SHOWER CURTAIN, AND THAT IS
THE END OF MY WORK. WEEEEEEE!
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I
WEELWEE WUVE DA WEDA BWUG, FWOLKS!!!
You're
not imagining that I am not saying some real major stuff. I want to
get my dam housing inspection over with. Hopefully they will allow me
new kitchen range metal cook circles. I went to clean my two fronts,
as I rarely if ever use my rear burners, and poof; without
even applying any pressure and I am a weak person,
the entire thing caved through!!!! They were pure rust through
and through. Now I know that soaking them once a season is not good
enough, and plan to do my new ones every other weekend so they do not
rust and burn completely through. The part that caved in is obvious,
but I have placed my flashlight in the kitchen for a better view, in
case the housing inspectors scream, as there is nothing I can do
other than leave them in all ugly looking, and then order
replacements at the PHA phone maintenance number later this week.
When I got up on the final 31st morning of January,
yesterday, I had major shit go down that I will be telling another
time. I have come to learn that even a seeker is blocked at certain
times from understanding or learning certain things, that the gods
don't want told and learned. Diana and I had a tiff over my doing
something, and I was punished by being sent into a universe where I
know now is the one where all of this nightmare shit is coming from,
in so far as the Atlantic City actual original people, who are indeed
dream-travelers, and go into all of these people here. This is why I
have no case in court, as who in this caveman age wants to hear that
those who I may be accusing, are really innocent over here in this
world, and that have guilty dream travelers inside of them,
controlling them, and making them do stuff to me for half a century
now that they may in fact not even be aware of after the original
dreamers wake back up in their parallel universe worlds. All I'll say
is that I was at 1208 Greentree Lane, at my Uncle Stuart Huntington
Mason and Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason's home, in Narberth,
Pennsylvania, USA, until Cousin Sandra Mason sold the home late in
the year 1986, when all hell broke loose for all sorts of us in this
'WHATEVER' HUNTINGTON FAMILY, HUH CONGRESSMAN?
No
people, unfaithfulness had nothing to do with my tiff with lightning,
and I will get into it later this week on upcoming blogs, IPYT!
JANE
FUCKSLUT GOT ME AGAIN, KIND PEOPLE!!!!!
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© MARK WAYNE
MOHR BLOGS 2006-2016
BLOGS OF
MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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1980
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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2005
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu002237985
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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Pau—stolen
form
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2013
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MAJOR
COPYRIGHT PROOF THAT THE LOC KNOWS MY STORY IS BEYOND REAL &
POWERFUL:
Now
before the sun has a chance to set on this very true nightmare story,
I will tell you that the flowers were supposed to be delivered to an
audition and repertoire person, a lady, in NYC, (A&R), along with
a copy of my song, written early in 2000 at
Guthrie Short's mansion in Blue Anchor, New Jersey, USA, called,
“Atlantic Queen” and I think it was part of the
copyrighted music project called, 'Russ Walker's Star Travelers of
1896'.
Public Catalog
Copyright
Catalog (1978 to present)
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The
real major part of this is that back then, computers and internet
were still a bit new, and the Library of Congress I don't believe,
had as of yet, made up the list such as the one I PIP into my blogs
from time to time. Notice
how the project with Atlantic Queen,
is perfectly sandwiched in between, no not a Subaru Car Commercial
and Andy Rooney of 60 minutes, great Flatliners Movie Cast and
Directors, but in this case; between
two MAJOR OTHER PROJECTS, that seem to have effected my entire life
in ways,
that go
beyond phrases like mind bending and brain breaking, and bone
chilling;
and you get the general idea!!!!
Why
would the cleaning lady take my freaking copyright certificate for my
music project sent down on 3 July, 2013, called, “You'll Be
Crossing Over”? YYYYYYYYYY?????????? There must be a whole lot of
shit going on that I don't know diddly squat about, kind world, and
unkind dam world!!!
My
music is so totally part of all of this bullshit for 30-50 years, it
ain't funny. Don't freaking laugh, McNulty! I blocked the
reason that I wrote those two songs in 1969, one in early June and
one in middle July, and I was driven mad by Patty-Paula, and that was
why I screamed out horrible cuss words and got evicted from the
Haddon Hills Apartments. My opening early Morianity blogs addresses
this and speaks about this in living nightmarish freaking detail, but
you need to archive on my archive paste-ins folks, as this current
blog only goes back to late 2011 when Meagan my guru got me back in
operation after a major hack knocked me off of my original blogs at
the Blogger Dot Com site. I don't know how people freaking sleep at
night after ruining my entire life since the
nineteen-hundred-sixties. But they do, an din fact, they control
their sleep and they live magical lives, such as my great awesome
cousin Donald. Hey, maybe he was right all along, as all things in
my family are possible. That day up at his Atlantic city hotel and
casino called PLAZA in mid town, he actually thought that I had gone
back to 1986, and brought my daughter up to the future here, and into
his place, just to screw with him. But then, his doppelganger in
hyperspace had already given me that horrible scowl in that Atlantic
City back months before that in late-oh-8. That too is all on my
blogs. The most powerful part of Morianity Blogs would be ending of
2007 and up through middle or late 2010, as this was the period where
the Mili-2-Fawces told me quite plainly, “Hey dude, we're not
taking any prisoners” and POW, my pathetic innocent life was
forever ruined beyond any hope of god dam repair.
MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
TANSTALKER
AND MOUNTAINPEN
I
plan to vanish shortly. I would rather die on the road trying to
escape this evil place from hell, than go on here being slowly
murdered, while my magical cousin uses me and ICPE-APE to propel
himself to the job of global top dog GTD. Screw that, Attorney
General Lynch.
Recently
I brought up my joining the Merchant Marines, shortly before working
at the Mars Graphics printing shop, in Westville, New Jersey. I told
how, just as with my father who also joined them at age sixteen,
before World War 2 broke out; both he and I had our service-paperwork
messed with. And now, this entire paragraph
vanished for no reason, and I had to retype it, Sheriff Ken Mascara,
sir, and FCC, in violation of my mother
fucking cunt huffing civil liberties. Do you think that I
would lie, and make up shit about fucking parts of the great United
States government? Hey, I may not know exactly
what's going on, and I never said that I dam ass did, peeps. I
only report the news folks; I don't make
it. I have no power. Making the news
is for those who have fuckiGN power. To quote David Roth, from
the American Honda Plant, in Mount laurel, New Jersey; concerning
this topic, and after I asked him how our lives seem to be so totally
fucked up, no matter what we try to do; and
he said back to me, and the U. S.
Copyright Office has the copy of this, on a cassette tape, from
February of 1988,
“Because we've got fucking enemies, and these fucking enemies have
power, and we don't”!!! It truly is, to quote John Colorado
Henningsen, in 1969, “JUST THAT SIMPLE”!
HEY
POWERFUL PEOPLE AND AUTHORITY OUT HERE:
I
NEED HELP AND PROTECTION, YO:
Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:
BUT
STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!
Tell
me another great fable, lovely DONNA.
Some
people talk about being eighty-sixed, others speak of being pummeled
and reamed. Many who believe their lives are the product of a really
rotten cosmic deal of a sort, say the decks of the star clusters are
stacked against them, or some such hocus freaking pocus, and all
great Frisbee throwers of the Twilight-Zone. Others just got angry 35
years ago like Steve McGinty did, with his subordinate, at the great
Mars Graphics Printing Shop; and told him he
was a turkey. I have heard yet still others tell me, and I
will quote them, “Mark, dam it, I've been submarined”.
The freaking garbage Spell-Checker on my Open Office program doesn't
even accept the word as valid, and makes me add it to their
dictionary. I did. Still, people have indeed told me this, and I sure
as Store High
In Transport
ain't a lyin' about it; kind folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah
I thought you were a hell of a nice guy once, Ryan, over at BJ's
Studio. Your boss Tony BonJovi
put a big ass knife in my back. Why am I not shocked and surprised,
at that turkey? Maybe because I'm getting used to getting submarined
a lot too, my friend!!! In any event, I think this looks like an
upside down boat, anyway. I guess that eighty-sixes my whittle bwog
and me trying to be cwever and cwoot, huh Mister Fwudd, YO!!!!!!!!!
Enough of this stupid prishy garbage.
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
PATTY AND STEVE!!! Oh sure, some of the smarter agents or dream-force
travelers, or as Bob Andrews said it so great, back in the middle
nineteen-hundred-seventies, 'whatever', guessed by now about these
powerful people in my past; and how they have way more effect on me
here, from their transdimensional realities as they do in this
waking world here. How any of you can live a lifetime in 3-D, boggles
my mind; after I have lived in the full five dimensional truth of
existence for so very long. Think about it seriously for goddess'
sake. The Bible says that the Almighty accuses ''3-D us'' of adultery
and murder, if we are lusting on someone with sexual intentions, or
seeing them while thinking hateful or jealous thoughts. On the 3-D
surface this is totally unfair. Is GODDESS-ALMIGHTY UNFAIR? I think
we all know that that is not the truth. But when this Almighty Spirit
sees us, it sees us in the full 5-D. If we are lusting here, then
somewhere even in the localized hyperspace, our full beingness in 5-D
is indeed sinning in adultery, somewhere. The towel-seepage effect of
that other parallel universe where we are actually committing the
sin, then goes onto cause us in extremely local hyperspace, to merely
have the towel-seepage effect or HSE of merely lusting. Believe me or
don't believe me, the Bible knows the full truth of
five-dimensionality. That dude in my nightmare last night, was STEVE
at age thirty, and I too was younger there. I am a few years his
junior in both of these parallel worlds, there as well as over here.
Steve was with Santa Claus, and Patty Hollister, back in March of
1975; one of the two times that stuff was being moved from my
apartment at Dellway Arms, in Oaklyn, New Jersey, USA; into the place
at 1118 Linden Hill, in Lindenwold, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG.
Hey. I'm not trying to get Cousin Callio all
worked up or excited here with all of this, but it is all the truth,
and it must be spoken on Morianity, as Morianity IS TRUTH, and
nothing else BUTTTTTT!!!!
JANUARY
31, 2016, 3:53 POST MERIDIAN
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