BLOG 8 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

BLOG 8 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

Blood is nothing more than cells, and humans and all biological entities are always going to be approximately the age of their blood. But the reason that cells talk to each other in much the same way as people get together in rooms and do likewise, is because on subatomic levels, communications are not a spoken language, but the way that nuclear reality interacts. We as human beings speak, dogs bark, and nuke life is more telepathic or said even a tad more accurately, more real or more true. In real truth, the spoken word is just not needed!

It is 87 degrees at 3:48 on this Tuesday non-aquarium afternoon, and the feels like heat index temperature in Fahrenheit degrees is 97. Yesterday in town here, the feels like got up to close to a buck and a nickle. I had to be out in the soup with one stupid deal after another all going wrong with a simple little project of attempting to get some necessary medications that I do every month. Aniwho, the humidity is 70%, and the dew-point is 76 %. WEEEEEEEE, really soupy here all the darn time, lads and lassies, YO!!!!

'Oh well', to quote the great Ann King from the Jersey Harbor-lands! What really can I say, Jay-Jay Mustache-Twirl Evans, YO???? Ain't life just 'beauty-full' here in hot Fort Pierce, and at my lovely wonderful Housing Authority Public Building, BANG BANG BANG AND ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES and more BANG BANG BANG AND ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES, and even more BANG BANG BANG AND ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES ROACHES! How would some old buds of mine say it so long ago? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I began this blankadee-blank blog more than a dozen years ago! The problem is that no one wishes to get involved, which means quite simply, taking on powerful Astral Plane GODS (AAT'S-ALIENS), huh Mister Childress, sir??????????? I said ATT instead of AAT on a prior and recent blog, my error, sahwee kind folks. All-Mighty Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, and yes, she even spelled out that great last name of hers in that wild experience she gave me while I was 'sleeping' in December of 1969, you know Mister Childress, the exact time the original Project Bluebook was shut down! Yes great United Stated © Office, “She's Stacey”. The present Head Examiner may not know what this is all about, but her predecessor sure does. I don't joke about things like this, or about mah-nah up on islands so long ago, huh Aunt Ruth and Uncle Heinz of once 175 Peninsula Drive, in the mighty fallen Babylon????????????????????? The mouse-hack trick is back, I guess as always, “with love or maybe without, but definitely from good old lovely Russia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“YES MY FRIENDS, JEWELLY WHITE'S GOT IT GOING ON, AND ART IS QUITE MAGICAL”. But more than magical, it will if I can escape this freaking EVIL EMPIRE, be the very source that permits me to sue AMERICA for every last freaking dime they all have, and make that dream come into fruition from 1979 or early into 1980 from Mantua, New Jersey, where the treasury had cut me a check for it ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Men have said for centuries that it is not possible to ever understand the mind of a woman. Women on the other side of that equation will say, and I quote, “Right back at you, dudes”. Still, the power to two sides of all stories (and equations) is not to ever be dismissed or taken lightly.

Now let us read a short blast from the past before I tie into how things never ever mother ******* change for me and why it seems to other folks that I am stuck in a time loop of my own making, and that assumption by those around me is totally **** sucking unfair. The time loop YES, but the part about “my own making”, an unequivocal NO!!!!!!!!!! I am doing nothing to cause this damn *** SHIT, kind folks! Read and remember from this little sound bite, and then I'll explain how this fits into more present times:

DECEMBER 28, 2013,

SATURDAY NIGHT AT 9:14

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 75 DEGREES FNHT.

I apologize for thinking that Tom from the first floor of my building was hurting me. I am not saying he gave me a fair shake, or that something is not wrong, but I overdid my long winded ranting on just how monstrous his behavior has been since nearly the time we met after Debbie Marotto, my resident manager, put me onto him for some computer help. He helps others with their computers, but won't have anything to do with me. He has that right; it is just very weird. I thought he was doing other things, and am glad now that I held back to make sure, and didn't blog the real major details last week, when I was attempting to get my re-certification for my Medicaid, and my EBT-food benefits. It is a long story, and I will just say this. Back on Monday, I went into the building recreation area, where Debbie had a Bingo Game going, with about a dozen residents. I had been informed on the previous Friday, now eight days ago, by a man I consider out of everyone here, the most trust-worthy and yet am leary of him too; but he said she was the one who helps peeps here with their re-cert applications, and to go and talk to her. When I did, she said to me that I needed to go to one or two or all three places that she gave me a list of, and that she does not do this, no matter who told me what. I had already been running around a couple weeks with this problem and getting nowhere, hence the blog earlier about running around like a decapitated chicken, only I did not provide the details. Four days later before finally straightening this out, up where I used to work through the AARP volunteer program, at HARVEST, where a DCF office staffs several live employees, and a room is filled with computers for folks to apply for their bennies online; I first went into the recreation area, as lately, there is both a Monday as well as a Friday Bingo Game. But it was early and no one was in the room, so I went back down the hallway and saw a light on in the management office, and walked in, and there was Debbie. We had a very productive talk. I told her the whole building is against me, and I went on a real rant. After she let me blow off my steam valves, she told me that she was the one who told Tom and his 'girlfriend' who they claim are not this type of friends, as is none of my freaking business, nor could I care in the least, but I know they are lying to me, anyway; she told them not to help me and to let me go and take care of this myself. During my original time in the recreation area, back on Monday, when I asked Debbie for help, they were seated only two tables away, and the girl said she would help me on her computer from her apartment. I went upstairs and no one ever came up to my apartment, so I went down to see why. Nobody said or did anything, but no one would help me, and kept their mouths shut, and fed into my paranoia something fierce. Anyone being treated like this over and over, would start to wonder and get half freaking nuts; not just me, peeps!!!!!! So just Friday morning in Debbie's office, she tells me, that she told them not to help me. She said she did not think it was appropriate for them to know my personal information, and that a lot of bad stuff with identity theft is going on, and this was her reason. Still, by not telling me anything, I am just left to think the whole building hates me and is ******* with me. This was not the case, not that I am loved, but all the residents are nutty here, and I wouldn't want to be friends with any of them as they're ******* lunatics. She went onto tell me how she almost used her debit card at the Target store for some last second Christmas shopping, and was happy she had an angel on her shoulder, and decided to pay cash that she had in her pocketbook. For those who do not stay current with news, TARGET recently had a big ass identity theft problem with folks using bank debit cards. Anyway, I know Tom does not like me for reasons only he knows and understands, but still, I had no right to rant on about him doing lots of mischief. He is just one more of so many mother ******* ***holes scattered all over the United States, and most likely the entire ******* globe! Anyway, this is my little blog retraction, that I felt morally compelled to write. If peeps want to hate me and ignore me, cool. But if I ever ever have anything, and I know I never will, there will never ******* be a caterpillar and butterfly deal for me; but should a miracle happen in this sick satanic world, I sure would have the last laugh, saying to folks, ''You've got to be kidding me, as where were any of you when I was down and out all the ******* way to dog****?'' I would sell my ******* soul to the devil, anytime, any day, to have that chance happen, but it won't. The devil has hated my guts since I was ******* born, and never ever made any bones about it, over two human incarnations, YO.

The Russians are really hacking this computer, or whoever it really is, Mister David AAT Childress, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had to call a geek at a tech store to learn how to use the CONTROL-Z key while I was capping in the blog sound bite from 2013. After all was repaired, I will now tell you a quick story to show how things stay the same for me no matter how mother ******* hard I try, day after day after day and year after year after year, Mister Priceright Bobby Barker sir, and this takes us to another red letter day for me, yesterday, when I went through the devils dog**** piles and then some, just to get my lousy medication refills at my pharmacy. It wasn't anyone's fault, nor was it mine either. But HALLS FAWCES just acted up in ways that I won't bore you all to death trying to type out a zillion words here that tells all about it. My simple 'Archie Bunker Pernt' however, is that weird **** never stops. I went to my insurance man to tell him about an idea so fantastic, we all could have ended up the first 'trillionaires' in history. When he refused to get back to me and I went over finally to ask why the brush off, the lady working there at the State Farm Office winked at me and said that Larry Lee was up with Rick Scott on important business, this for any non Floridian, is our miserable rotten governor. Between him and AG Pam and dirt ball Cuzz Trump, my hell has worsened ten ******* fold since my blogs temporarily halted thirty or so months ago! That mother ******* governor put the kibosh on my last chance to have anything in my life and not die broke in Public Housing with rats and mother ******* roaches all over biting me in my **** chewing damn sleep. YO!!!!

Mark Wayne Mohr Huntington descendant

WELCOME TO THE MORIANITY FOUNDATION, GOOD FOLKS. Anyone can join and the price is FREE.

Maybe more accurately stated, WELCOME TO MY ETERNAL HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOOOO, ARTHUR CRANE FROM 1991;

LET ME SHRINK HALF A FOOT OR SO, AND THEN GO WASH UP, DAVID! But let us quickly end all this for today with a little parlor magic lesson. EVERYTHING IS A TRICK, EVEN TIME TRAVEL OF ANY KIND. Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, or Ventnor dreams, and other ''alien abduction experiences shared around the planet''??? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***** FIRST DAY OF SUMMER 2008***** WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

MEET CRACKPOT MOUNTAINPEN NEBNOOSHOO, OH YEAH, RIGHT.

WFMU’s Beware of the Blog

OH YES, BY ALL MEANS, WATCH OUT FOR THAT HORRIBLE MARK WAYNE MOHR, WHAT A MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yeah, right pal!

Well it sure ain't the mother loving first day of summer of 2008, but I'll tell you what my kind folks. Does it really matter for me one way or the other, since I am stuck in eternal hell????????????????????

END TRANSMISSION.