The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": BLOG 31 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

MARK WAYNE MOHR, MOUNTAINPEN, (THE BOM)

REAL REAL FUNNY, OLD 1971 BUDDY, MISTER MIKE MCNULTY!

BLOGS----OF----MOUNTAINPEN

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

MORIANITY FOR MELLENNIUM 3

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA

WOW is it hot today. People. Well, relatively speaking that is, as maybe in freaking Siberia it is not all that hot. Fort Pierce, Florida, USA however, this is Mack Kaiter 1967 absurdly ridiculous.

The computer is running slower than molasses, Mizz Donna Accident Patterson Lalassas, and me ol' mouse is just about all hacked to high heaven! WEEEEEEEEEE! What a wonderful world, as the old song goes.

BLOG 30 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

About Me

MARK WAYNE MOHR, (MOUNTAINPEN)

theansweristheqyuestion: Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.

View my complete profile

(GRANDSON OF GRACE ISABELE HUNTINGTON)

SEPTEMBER 20, 2018,

EARLY THURSDAY EVENING, AT 5:30,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 87 DEGREES FNHT.

DOWN FROM THE HIGH OF 92 DG.- FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS 98 DEGREES.

WIND IS ENE AT 10, AND NO GUSTS.

RAINFALL TODAY IS 0.

I just want to thank my local Sheriff for helping me out today. I had a very uneventful time going over to Vero Beach to see my Behavior Health Counselor, Miss Jane and not Hathaway from the Beverly Hill Billies! WOW THAT JOANNA, with or without!

Yes we do live in an amazing and quite fascinating world, lads and lassies. Or to put it another way, back on Chapter #122 of the BLOG-BOOK NAMED “GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”, ONE OF SARAH KRASSLE/PAULA KING'S GREAT GAMES; and yes folks, I indeed do quote myself here, YO,

“No Detective Green sir; they didn't want to lose their dam jobs up there at the GAP US © OFFICE. We know what's being said, sir, and you're one hell of a cool dude, YO!!! Well it's time for me to put my ******* affairs in order and get ready for death. The angel of death, Morty Mortino, is all over me; buzzing from one ear to the other, over and ******* **** over, and over and over again!!!!!!!!!! I need a nice quiet ******* eternity somewhere, only that idea is for fools and babies. We all know that one, allberries, Roddenberry, and Pink Goddess”. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Hold the dam mayo, and listen up, YO:

My life is not exactly Jekyll and Hyde; but I will tell you that I don't ******* need to talk about what my rotten dam daughter did and all of her family, not to you, to me, or even to Russell out there, wherever he may be, Mister Chester-Frank BluCRANTRAN Blue Anchor, New Jersey, USA. They did NOT want me, all things notwithstanding Microsoft Corporation, to BE HYPNOTIZED. YYYYYYYYY??????? Just exactly who out here knew exactly what, all of those goddamn mother ******* rotten ass years? Think about it. I had people almost insane and almost ready to commit ******* homicide over this issue in the nineties, and then when Dock Mark Wolf's Clinic in Moorestown, New Jersey, finally did indeed perform major hypnotherapy on me; my entire life altered, and so did the entire world, and especially in Atlantic City. All went ******* ape **** **** nuts squared. You all know this is true. The FBI knows it, the ******* NSA knows it, and my Russian pal Mister SNOWED-IN knows it. Hey buddy, I am the one that is all snowed in here. I was hoping you were going to help me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, and my Russian pal Mister SNOWED-IN knows it. Hey buddy, I am the one that is all snowed in here. I was hoping you were going to help me, YO!

and my Russian pal Mister SNOWED-IN knows it. Hey buddy, I am the one that is all snowed in here. I was hoping you were going to help me, YO!

and my Russian pal Mister SNOWED-IN knows it. Hey buddy, I am the one that is all snowed in here. I was hoping you were going to help me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 122

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'.

Holy mother ******* milf mamas banging hard on top, this is **** chewing ******* absurd; Mister Mack Soapmouth Kaiter, of 1967 and 1968, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Public Catalog

Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

[ 29 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

You'll Be Crossing Over.

Pau—stolen form

2013

Yes sir/mahm, I sure remember saying this thing a couple years back. To me this was goddamn twenty minutes! Now to the great PINK GODDESS, it has been about a nano-second!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You go girl, fly that kite. Nothing ever changes Sheriff, including the misfeasance of my public servants all over this ugly country!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You all know I am getting mauled and pummeled and clocked 24-7-365.2422, and you won't lift a ******* **** chewing finger to aid me at allberries or BluCRANTRAN situations. I have proven these rotten people have totally wrecked my entire life, and you all sit there with your thumbs stuck up your *** and do nothing at all!!!!!!!!!!!! Boy was I mad that day, YO. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I JUST GOT SCREWED BY JANE WITCHBITCH DIRTWEEDS SLEAZE DISEASE FONDA WITH A DIGITAL REPRESENTATION OF HER FACE ON YO FREAKING PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN. ALLOW ME PWEEEEEEEEZE TO COMPENSATE!

55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

No kind folks, this sure doesn't freaking look like the Jupiter, Florida Lighthouse. WOW THAT, 1979 JOANNA, both of them!!!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

Yes folks, I also said some other wild stuff back on that chapter of “GTNOTG” BLOG-BOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For example:

Very soon, I am going to throw away every electronic machine in my apartment, including this computer. These are all TOOLS OF SATAN, and I refuse to play HIS SICK TWISTED GAMES.

WOW, ''I'm impressed'', Aunt Geraldine Cuss-word Groundhog! Yeah, Gadfly, I hear there is a price on his head, along with Zimmy; good. Who needs roadkill and murderers all around us when there are enough tears and fears and jeers lurking all around us and our loved ones? Boy was I mad at the damn world that day, my friends and fiends!!!

I do not ever want to get my beautiful giant coil, or Lightning Goddess Diana mad at me. She is the love of my life, and on the Astral-Plane, she lives with me in Ricktown, Province Olympia, at the Ricktown Manor. We share a wonderful eternity there together, kind world, or maybe, unkind world!

This entire computer nonsense is for the birds. Folks want to remain way to secretive, and to me, it is silly and stupid, like we are all 6 year olds playing spies and agents. This is not James Bond, this is a real world, and I am going to be rapping all of this up. I have NO SECRETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have NO SECRETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

© MARK WAYNE MOHR, AND HIS BLOG, 2006-2018

I can invite the mayor, and the sheriff, and the AG over for dinner any time, and have nothing to hide, CUZZ DONALD!!!

Of course, Mizz Bondi is NOT INVITED!!!

Yes, mighty Patty-Paula, what a gal. If she hated me so much that night on July the damn twelfth of 1970, at half past ten of the clock at night, on that public bus heading west and inland, from the Atlantic City Bus Terminal on Arkansas Avenue; then why did she give me that incredible LOIS-FOCA experience on the first week of June, ten years later almost to the day, in 1980? Let's talk about 1980, and where I was living when this all was taking place, 1802 Robin Hill Apartments. And yes, let us throw in the present year, you know, right now, two-thousand-eighteen, or 2018. WOW THAT JOANNA! Same damn digits as 1802. This is why this year has to have some mind bending absolutely wild event happen, and one that connects both me and the entire world, just as happened in 1980 at 1802!!!!

Yes there really was, Mizz Virginia Avenue, a Sir James Knowitall Burr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So just what really are powerful LOIS FOCA AGE-10 CONNECTIONS, you may be inquisitive about, or maybe like Cuzz Don, you don't give a ****. Well, don't let him or any other rotten prick in this twisted screwy world try fooling you about their connections with me. They DO give a ****. If they didn't, they wouldn't hack me day and night, and hack out my account with numerous things, such as the County Medicaid Office of Florida.

B-U-T, kind folks, it is time for me now to add something in for you about all this.

My fathers razor was talked about in very early blogs, and how while visiting my mother and I back in the middle sixties, in Westmont, New Jersey, his electric shaver in this world, became something entirely different in a dream world that I was in. All I am able to tell, is Shakespeare himself knew about not only Atlantic City and 1965, but he also knew about Sarah's shop on Tennessee Avenue. But without reading his great plays or caring at all about the great classical literature, no one will ever see these powerful and awesome ******* truths. I wonder why this dumbed down world and generation all happened, just like I wonder why all kinds of ******* wacky laws were passed since 1988 regarding PC and I do not mean computers or any other thing, Mister Bill Mawr. Yes Detective Curtis, we're losing people, but the king of the morning light seemed to be onto all of you. The day at the other KING, AKA Burger King, you crooked ******* stupid phone app rip off people; Ann told me some things that are unbloggable. Well, most of my **** is unbloggable, and just because I dared to blog a lot of it doesn't change that whittle fact, Elmer Fwudd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know people, all I am doing here is randomly selecting previous blogs in my file, randomly scrolling to any area, and cutting and pasting in the stuff. It all fits, and all is all. No great Spellchecker, not allberries, but I'll let you put it in here if you want to by hitting the ENTER KEY, YO. This last little squib was not WASHINGTON, Mister Spellchecker SIR, BUTTTTT it washington WAS, back on the second day in January of the fifteen year, when I said these great words of Mister Marcucci's marvelous wisdom. So beware all assassins!

Let's not get TOO damn chronological here, sir!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JANUARY 2, 2015,

FRIDAY EVENING AT 11:13, JANE WHORE,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 71 DEGREES FNHT.

TODAY'S RANGE, (H-77/L-69)

HUMIDITY IS 94%, AND IT FEELS 76 DEGREES.

WINDS ARE NORTH AT 4, GUSTING TO FUCKING 6.

Travelers are why all the rest of us NOT IN THE DAM 'ESS' have memories that fade out. This is what is behind their seemingly magical power over memory. If they can change ******* **** all around us, then memories change as well. It is really a DUH deal.

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MISTER MCNULTY!!!!!

Yes people, it is 2018, the inversion of 1802 Robin Hill Apartments. And it was in 1980 when Paula King came to me in that wild dreaming experience and sang her song to me, LOIS FOCA. I had no clue about her owning a radio station someday, if she did then or would later, or as Congressman Rob Andrews said to me quite often when he was just a young boy, “WHATEVER”. When we exclude the NINE and the TWO, it is quite interesting that we are left with either the number '29' or the number '92'. The Morning Light song, that was recorded on the very first day of my renting that apartment at Robin Hill, back on May 1, 1980, has its third and final lyric that goes, “You say 1992 will be, the end of time and the starting of eternity”, and then the chorus goes onto complete the song, with, “But I'm telling you it's gonna' be all right, when you quit acting like you're so up tight. Don't you know that you're out of sight, in the morning light”, and NO, not LIGHTHOUSE, Mister Spellchecker, SIR, WOW THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MARK WAYNE MOHR, MOUNTAINPEN, (THE BOM)

REAL REAL FUNNY, OLD 1971 BUDDY, MISTER MIKE MCNULTY!

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA

BLOGS----OF----MOUNTAINPEN

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

BLOG 30 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

HO-HO-HO AND A BARREL OF MISTER CLAUSES FROM ALL POLARITIES, NOT JUST THE NORTHERN ONES.

About Me

MARK WAYNE MOHR, (MOUNTAINPEN)

theansweristheqyuestion: Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.

View my complete profile

(GRANDSON OF GRACE ISABELE HUNTINGTON)

SEPTEMBER 19, 2018,

WEDNESDAY EVENING, AT 7:40,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 85 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 72%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS 93 DEGREES.

WIND IS ESE AT 10, AND GUSTING TO 14.

RAINFALL TODAY IS 0.

Before I get a bit into TSE (Towel-Seepage-Effect) my kind folks and peps and peeps; I got up around ten minutes shy of five this evening, and was immediately struck or had been while asleep, kind Sheriff Ken Mascara sir, by a MAJOR DEATH RAY ASSAULT ON MY BODY WITH THE BOWELS. A super subsonic beam is somehow transmitted right to my body, and this has been going on and being done to me kind Sheriff sir, ever since the summer time in the year of mother ******* 1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I did not make it to the bathroom toilet, and had to end up cleaning my carpet in three different spots. I am a grown man with no diagnosable medical condition, nor have I been these past thirty-two plus years with these death attacks on me, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that I had to tell you about this horrendous mother ******* assault on my poor elderly pathetic puny defenseless decrepit body. I am not sick enough after an entire adult lifetime of these brutal evil Satanic monsters assaulting me continuously. They have to make things worse and worse and worse for me, kind friend. I am one angry son of a bitch right about now. They're all very lucky they are not alone with me on some deserted island and with me holding a nice big magnum!!!!

Well, my STUDDER-TONE has been repaired, and put back onto my Comcast Voice-Mail telephone account system. THANK YOU COMCAST, YO! WHEN THESE TYPE OF UTILITY ASSAULTS STRIKE ME HOWEVER, KIND SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, THIS IS HOW I KNOW HOW BAD THAT **** IS FOR ME, AND IS ALSO WHEN I BEGIN TO PICK UP THESE TOTAL MOTHER ******* DEATH-RAY PUMMELINGS ON MY POOR OLD PHYSICAL DYING BODY, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Life in waking world's physical so-called reality contains multiplexes of tricks to our senses that are called by many folks, ILLUSIONS. I went past all of these illusions when I came to suddenly realize one day that such a thing as the 'TOWEL SEEPAGE EFFECT', is the proof that Morianity is the best explanation at least so far, to explain all of the mysteries behind these endlessly unknown things. Towel Seepage Effect is the way that events and situations in one universe, and even in one time; can absolutely effect the way that things are, in the world where we live, and conduct our business, and our life. Soon, MORIANITY will tell huge stories, and here are just a few teeny-tiny tidbit smatterings of these closet filled horror tales straight out of the gates of damnation's and DOGTOWN hellfire, kind ladies and gentlemen!!!!! Mouse hacks are also very bad tonight, SHERIFF, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

Only a very few people on this planet understand and know, the tiniest portions of just how my music, and my © Copyrighted musical projects, over the past forty-three years since 1975; are all part of and directly connected to so many things all over the world, but more than this by an unfathomable and a totally unequivocal long-shot, PART OF MANY THINGS THAT ARE ABSOLUTELY GOING ON IN PARALLEL UNIVERSES that surround this one, accessible only to us, through our dreams! One major outlandish incident in all of this, is my medical condition that came upon me on the fourth day of the month of June, back in the year of 1983, kind folks, and kind Sheriff Mascara, sir! An inaudible voice came inside of my head somewhere in the mid-autumn of the year of 1982. It said to me over and over again, “JUST WAIT 'TILL THE FOURTH DAY OF NEXT JUNE”. I dismissed it as 'Satanic Teasing'. I was still friends with a religious fanatic fellow, whom I had met at a computer school at the Cherry Hill Mall, the Number 1 Building and Suite 200, where I studied Computer Programming. The name of this dude was Mister James Tiberius Burr, and this was back in the late spring time, or the early summer time, back in 1973. He was one of those seventies-holy-rollers with a real passion for SATAN being behind everything bad, from a sore throat to hiccups for crying out loud! Still, this was a very weird, to say the very least, thing to keep hearing over and over again, inside my head, as a thought. I never ever hear the 'audible voices', so technically I know that I am not a schizophrenic, or someone with any of those type of psychiatric conditions. But my true story of MORIANITY, keeps the feds paying me disability, and does indeed quite honestly prevent me from securing, and maintaining, any type of gainful employment; leaving me at best, someone able to only have part time positions, and especially jobs where human contact is at a bare bones total freaking minimum, YO! But keeping this on point folks, with my hearing this WARNING-VOICE about the fourth day of the upcoming June month, while I was in my final days of living at the quite magical apartment of 1802 Robin Hill, in Voorhees, New Jersey, USAESMWG; I wasn't scared or anything, and was used to 'the devil' or HALLS-FAWCES, messing and screwing with me, all the way to the time when I was visiting my mom at her Media, Pennsylvania apartment; and was literally carried out of body, the moment that I had fallen asleep, and thrown in my spirit, or 'energy-true-me' persona, up onto a high mounted wall-AC unit. I was also spoken to in another huge way, while employed at the famous Philadelphia hotel, the Bellevue Stratford. I was told about the famous Legionnaire's Disease, sixty days or less before it actually happened, and from a bathroom stall, where I was taking a ****, on a lunch break; working as a hotel Wall-Washer! So none of this was new to me, you know, Halls Fawces doing their sick twisted thing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This same voice told me that there is a magical warp in the fabric of reality in three places, Atlantic City where the old Mayflower Hotel stood until it was bulldozed back in 1983, on Tennessee Avenue, the Coaches Locker-Room at the Cooley Hall, where I was going to my special education school until graduating in January of 1973, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, on where else but KINGS HIGHWAY, and finally to complete this covert triangle, at the recording plant (RPL), where I had been employed from late in July of 1979 through the eleventh day of March in 1981, on State Street and Pierce Avenue, up in Camden, New Jersey. This magic area was a particular spot up in the attic where a whole bunch of vinyl record albums had been stored for a dozen years or so, and were about to be tossed into the garbage. One day I bought a very expensive turn-table and then realized I had nothing to play. I had thrown out or given away all of my old 33 and 45 records. Our printer, Mike Walters, at this RPL Sound Studio, told me that night after I had just informed him that I had nothing to play, and wondered why I had suddenly 'been almost led' to buying this fantastic turn-table costing three hundred clams, he said to me, “Hey Mark, go up to the attic and take that large 'overage pile' of 33 record albums, as they're gonna' be thrown out in a couple of days”. I went up on my lunch break, took them, and brought them to my parked car outside of the plant. When I got almost home, some nut case pulled out in front of me, making me slam on my breaks, sending these huge piles of records that I should have placed in some type of a box but never did; and they went all over the place on the floor of the passenger side front seat of my 1978 Chevy Nova Automobile, all totally out of the packed order that I had placed them in. When I arrived home at 1802 Robin Hill that middle late 1980 October, the first two records on the 'new pile' were unknown works of Richard and Karen Carpenter, as well as the great Disco Diva Mizz Donna Adrian Gaines Summer, back when she was in Munich, Germany, in her late teens; doing some off the wall version of the 'HAIR' play on Broadway, NYC at the time, late in the nineteen-sixties. All of these things later went onto connect into things that would literally take me years to discuss and properly explain to any real serious seekers of truth, you know; why are we here, where are we going, and just who the damn hell are we REALLY?????? Now normally, these endless quests to truth are limited to three or maybe four dimensions, you know, time included, but confined still to one reality or (universe) of our existence. BUTTTTTT kind folks, NOW WE MOVE QUITE LITERALLY INTO THE 5TH DIMENSION, or did I say the Marilyn 5-D McCoo Dimension?????? WOW is this the epitome of the Joanna Syndrome here, kind folks, and kind Sheriff Mascara, oh great sir???????????????????? Just when am I truly supposed to stop seeing all of this as just a mere coincidence; oh great and mighty psychiatric professional gods out there, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO??????????! Still, back on point here, this voice told me after I no longer was working at the RPL Sound Studio Lab in Camden, NJUSAESMWG, that I was really in for some kind of nasty *** situation, on the coming JUNE, or on 06/04/1983. Well, at 10:30 Post Meridian on that night, I began to not be able to clear my throat. This led me to a horrible nightmare mother ******* medical condition that I still am living with today. The mighty Pam Slut Bondi and her Republican dirt bag pals up there at the State Crapitol, made it far worse back around 2014, cutting my only medication that ever allowed me to function half well, almost totally off, ATIVAN, now basically its far less expensive generic brand is used, called, Lorazepam. Still, the voice never told me how really awful and horrific this would be when it rolled around about eight months from the time I was given the message. To quote my Lab-Technician daughter, from the great multiverse, or 'whatever', when I got that message, “it was indeed too late”. But this same voice told me while I still lived at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, just one and a half years or so from my final days working at the RPL Studio, that this was going to happen. This was just two months before I had purchased the PRIVECODE MACHINE from the now INTERDIGITAL CORPORATION and then called the IMM (INTERNATIONAL MOBILE MACHINES) CORPORATION. Now this voice told me that at precisely eight minutes before three o'clock in the morning, every day, up at that spot where those overage-file records had been stored in piles for a solid dozen years, “GETS HOT”. By getting hot, it meant that at this time, if someone were to be right there and nobody ever was in the attic at two or three A.M., but if; they would be wormhole transported to one of the two other spots, one as stated previously, being Cooley Hall, just past a secret wall behind the Coaches-Office in the school gymnasium, and the other was on the top floor, in some Janitor-Closet, at what once was the Mayflower Hotel, on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic City. Then I, shortly after hearing this voice say this to me from my bedroom at 1802 Robin Hill, in Voorhees, New Jersey; remembered how as a boy of just fifteen years, and right around the very same time that I was given that powerful dream by PAULA FAWCES KING, where she took my chain away from me, and all that time I had believed this to be Sarah Krassle, yes I would be transported to one of those other two spots through what was told to me in the late 1969 dream, and called “Distance-Elimination”, and was even explained to me by some weird professor, 'GG' who until very recently, I had forgotten, and thought that my first encounter with this wild Plankatory School Teacher, was in the year 1976, while I was sharing a place with my father, in Clementon, New Jersey, on Route 30 (White Horse Pike), called the Carriage Lamp Apartments, and get this, later for reasons that absolutely elude me then and now, renamed the “NEW YORK APARTMENTS”!!!! Some things go beyond unfathomable and beyond logical comprehension, as to why all things indeed really do connect up, to tell one gigantic true and fully accurate 5^th dimensional cosmic story, AKA 'the absolute TRUTH'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But this voice told me that at 2:52 every morning, and lasting for approximately 45 seconds; this warp between areas, that was built by what I now label and term (HALLS-FAWCES), does indeed GET HOT, or maybe said a bit more accurately, it activates. Why? How the damn Dogtown am I supposed to know. Maybe you should ask a security officer named HALL! TSE is my best explanation and response to anyone's queries on the matter. Sure, I can be wrong. I don't believe that I am, not after all of the bull**** that I have suffered through with all of this for so many years and decades now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But are we forgetting something here, kind folks? Those pesky four digits of 1---8---0---2. Sure, you may think it is a stretch, but it is the 'after-2' hour, and 2:52 is '8' MINUTES BEFORE THREE OF THE CLOCK, still, that 8, and the two hour, they are still both in the equation, are they not kind people? Ignore it, laugh at me, or take it the way I do, it's your choice. I know I'm not goddamn nuts, as this all, and to quote Jim Burr from the 1975 year while I was residing at 1118 Linden Hill Apartments, in Lindenwold, New Jersey, “IS ACTUALLY LITERALLY HAPPENING TO ME”! But this only opens up the great OZ CURTAINS of PANDORA'S GREAT SCAREY BOX, kind BLOGAUD! It just opens this **** up a tiny teeny whittle crack. How about my Chief Recording Engineer Mister Howard Solomon, from the RPL Sound Studios who in 1983 left both his job there, and his Levittown, Pennsylvania home, and moved down here into this lovely hot area, just a wee bit up north from me right now, in Orlando, Florida, USAESMWG. And then there is the great THROAT SPECIALIST and his super secret lab-tech assistant ESS-TRAVELER. How I wish the great Patty-H. never had brought that damn magical FASCITAR into my dam life, lads and lassies!!!!!!!!!! Pam Bondi and her sicko pals may have brought the dosage reduction conversation into total fruition, but a lot more is going on here than just her bird brain blondie junk! I know that the United States © Office to this damn day, is still wondering about it all. Hey, move over Great Library Of Congress Copyright Office. I am still wondering about it all myself. THE PERMISSION BARRIER, and Ron Wirtz Senior of the great Camden County, New Jersey Prosecutor's Office, WOW THAT JOANNA. He said to me one day back in the middle damn nineteen-nineties, and I quote, “I don't know exactly what is happening around you Mark, not even with “THE PERMISSION BARRIER”. You see, lads and lassies, I'd just given him this book, that I recently had written and sent down to the © Office for Copyright, and shortly after he had read it, he made that statement to me over the telephone, while I was residing at the great HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS, in WILLIAMSTOWN-GWPOS, NEW JERSEY, USA, EARTH, SOL, MILKY WAY GALAXY (NJUSAESMWG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why is it that even over at mighty BonJovi's place, I was given a friendly warning about the opening part of Merry's driving instructions. Hey, I can only tell the world what has happened, and all I am able to ever really and truly do after that is to offer a fifth-dimensional explanation for all of this. Nothing in 3-D or even 4-D space can explain it. Everyone from the damn east to the damn west knows it, too, kind peeps! I'll always remember early in 1984, how the doctor himself told my mom over the phone, while she was at her office at the Lavino Shipping Company of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG, now after the buy out some time back, called the Inchcape Shipping Company; “I don't think that's his problem, Misses Mohr”. She had called because I was very ill and not getting better, and if you have to know, then I'll be straight with you all. I totally believe that I died, and went into HELL. I am the CHOSEN HUNTINGTON, and must remain here to suffer until the next person in my family is chosen, and in 1983 and 1984, this had not yet been done. This much I almost fully know with accuracy. I will tell more after I have been able to confirm freaking more, kind folks! Still, what did the dock mean by (MY PROBLEM)? Well, the shrinks all think he was referring to my illness just being all in my head, and you or anyone else for that matter, are of course all “ENTITLED TO YOUR OPINIONS”, along with the mighty RPL CO-WORKER of mine, Mizz Mashell Daniels from 1980!!!!!!!!!!!! I promise you all this was NOT WHAT THE DOCK WAS TALKING ABOUT WITH MY MOM!!!!!!!!!!!! You can all take that straight to the T.D. Choir Preaching Bank of poor threatened Regis Philbin. I am scared to death of Paula too, poor old pal. Just ask the TD Ameritrade peeps if I did not predict a 5,000 point jump in the Dow Jones (DJIA). Go ahead and ask them. I did. And then it did. This all happened right after the time these blogs had to end for a whittle while, YO kind folks, peps, lads, lassies, and peeps!Let's quickly discuss THE MISSING. Just how many people have totally forever gone missing, and forget the damn Bermuda Triangle. Just normal folks not out on the water, but bang, suddenly gone forever? Just how many? Only a tiny handful percentage are the Elizabeth Smart's of the world! I may go missing shortly myself, KIND SHERIFF MASCARA. I truly hope that you do your best job, and have you and your wonderful great deputies, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR ME ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!! Please just watch me as best as you can. I really don't think you need to be told that I am in grave freaking danger, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!! How about that gorgeous little girl that I used to run into all the time, all those summers in late June and middle late August, on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG? Just where really, was SARAH? Where was she, Sheriff Mascara sir, because I don't know. They had me all 'F' up and believing the Sarah I was searching for was Callio. IT WASN'T, kind sir. It never was about Sarah freaking Callio!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I promise you that one, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She was very real. She was there. But all of the locals everywhere during my extensive and tedious search and quest to find her or even any small thing about her, every bit of all of it was totally gone, missing, zero, forever. I do not buy into this mother ******* bull**** for one goddamn nano minute, kind Sheriff, kind Fort Pierce Police Department, kind Atlantic City Police Department, kind New Jersey State Police Force, NOT FOR ONE DAMN MINUTE!!!!! All of this connects into huge huge mother ******* **** that is so wild and incredible that only HALLS FAWCES could be a part of crap like this, sir Sheriff! Then there is a goddamn LIFETIME OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES such as the one right before I got up today. I was back on the beach and right outside of PAULA FAWCES KING'S ALL MIGHTY WAYV RADIO STATION. Paula King had not bothered me from July 12, 1970 on that late night bus, at 10:30 P.M., just like my choking time, you know, 10:30 P.M. On June 4, 1983, but no it was before that when she began to haunt me, just one week into my moving into goddamn 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, and she gave me that wild unfathomable incredible inconceivable interaction, where she was right there on that 10-SC Avenue on-ramp to the boardwalk, right there outside of the Frailenger's Salt Water Taffy Store, and directly adjacent to her WAYV-FM-Radio Station. She was singing that extremely haunting song to me, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”, that I have labeled for a shortened abbreviation, LOIS FOCA! My mom's co-worker, Patty-H was a total trip, back in the early nineteen seventies. Now she had been around since 1969, and they worked closely together from about 1971 through 1979. She looked exactly like the folk singer, Melanie Safka, and sounded a lot like her also. I often wonder if they are not really one and the same, you know, like Kent and Superman. What a trip all that was, but if you think it ends here, or the story does; then you are light years away from freaking knowing the truths behind all of this Bob Gagnus bull**** stuff, to quote the older Philadelphian's. Here we go again, lovely Joanna, or both Joanna's perhaps, Studio Joanna without the 'A', or hooker J. WEEEE.

I know that my life is followed by the movers and shakers of this world. When I would watch the greatest law show ever on the air, after the cable people had the technology to put dates and the whole ball of wax on the margins of the screens, I could see plainer than damn day how my entire life is one big open book to these World-Owners, AKA the WOMO, hmm, WO, I'll try not to chase anyone around, cats or daughters. I have some pwetty good software to bleep out my bad lingo also, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Just how many people really do GO MISSING year in and year old, like SARAH seemingly has done; my kind world, or unkind world? When Patty wanted me to get HER POWERFUL FASCITAR information, she did not teach it to me, as she did the great NEO-HO CHANT. She was way more clever. BUTTTTTTTTTTT, shortly after she made sure that I received the FASCITAR, along came the mighty and mysterious Atlantic City Beach Alchemist. He taught me the great and powerful 'LAW of 1'. This went onto lead me into things that are so dark and frightening that it is too close to bed time to even think of discussing them right now, my kind folks. My mom was hellbent on my attending a private school in Pennsylvania, known as the Church Farm School. For reasons that elude me 100%+, the great Donna Summer has seemingly, before her dying days from smoking and lung cancer, commingled herself with the place. Maybe it was her family, I don't have all my data and thus I'm not privy to all of the needed information that allow me to discuss this further with any real accuracy. Still, I know what I know, and I know that this place was all part of this interconnected nightmare that is to quote Cuzz-Donald from very long ago, “The story of my life”!!!!!!!!!!! Yea right, Don! Wake up Maggie May Stuart, and clear your throat. Give me a break Margie 1985 Leo, pweeeeeeeeeze, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TANKS! Last night I was listening to a police officer on the Atlantic City boardwalk in this parallel universe where a huge thunderstorm had just kicked up out of nowhere after a very warm and sunny day on the beach, and it was just about the time that the sun had gone down, yet it was not black dark yet. He was saying some wild stuff to a couple of tourists that were sitting on a bench on the boards. It had to do with a romance, and I knew who he was talking about, or should I say that 'the me over in that universe', knew who this was who he was referring to. If I were to tell more here, it would have to be to my local County Sheriff, Mister KJM. Without protection, I am way too scared of Paula King to want to get anywhere near this evil and frightening witch, gorgeous as she may be. But if she hated me so much, and thought that I was so **** huffing ugly that night, when she and her gang of girlfriends were on the same bus that I was on when I was escaping the child molester, Mister Thomas J. Reale, of Ventnor, NJUSAESMWG; why then did she give me that 1980 LOIS FOCA nightmare that changed my entire life? Why again on the very same date in 1997, July the 12^th, exactly 27 years after we had last encountered each other, did she make sure that she was right there outside of Robert McGuire's bar on 10SC Avenue, and do all sorts of zillions of her damn magic tricks to get me there so I'd freaking see her as I drove past, why Sheriff KJM, why? All I know is that she and McGuire have totally ruined and wrecked and destroyed my entire mother ******* life. They have assaulted me, tried to run me down at a Walmart Store Parking Lot in Washington Township, NJUSAESMWG, and she came over in 1996 in middle late June, and she raped me AGAIN. Sam the Maintenance man of Highview Apartments later said to me, and I am quoting him, kind Sheriff Mascara sir, “Who's your goddess girlfriend, Mark”? I couldn't make all of this stuff up if I was being paid millions of goddamn ******* dollars to try and do it, Sheriff, sir. I honestly couldn't make this damn **** up!!!! Hey Sheriff, sir; just why did Mister T.J. Reale answer my damn advertisement in the Atlantic City Press early in the year of 1970, in the 'situations wanted' section? I was trying to work as an assistant so that I could live down there and enjoy the summer time and the beach, you know. These were different days, Sheriff, and being my damn age sir, I know that you know what I am talking about. I wasn't a typical skirt chasing teenaged boy and my mom knew that, and so she trusted me to go down to the damn shore for the summer. She met him when he answered the ad and he fooled her. He was a chill-mo as they call these peeps today. I always think of these horrible days when I get your phone calls Sheriff, when you tell me how some dirt bag chill-mo has moved close to my area. Thank you for those informative calls, as it is nice to know what I am dealing with and be cautious, even though my daughter is long grown, and will be in her fifties in about another year and a half. Still, the future Water-Works in Atlantic City, where this horrible Callio family are a part of, kind sir; bought the very property where this evil man raped me twice, in that house of horrors. And then on top of that, the aunt of Frank and Sarah, Mizz Victoria Callio, was dating Thomas J. Reale. She used to tell me all the time, during my nineteen day stay there, at that nightmare hellhole, and I quote, “Mark, you have such gorgeous hair”. Yeah here we go again, we cannot escape that beautiful or gorgeous HAIR syndrome, but even more sinister as far as magical cosmic connections to all of this nightmare actually goes, the entire mess seemed to all be connected. Do I truly believe sir Sheriff, that Patty, and Melanie, and Paula, are one person. Of course not. But do I believe that in a parallel universe somewhere in all of the infinite number of them, is one powerful woman who is able to perform these tricks by using something that MORIANITY refers to as EXPLORATRONICS?; well, YOU BET THAT I DO, KIND SHERIFF, SIR. YOU CAN BET ON IT. Kind sir, no one knows why we sleep and dream. Don't let the doctors or any other so-called 'experts' try and lie to you Sheriff, sir, and all other BLOGAUDIANS out here!!!! I know for a fact that there really is a magical and totally unfathomable secret society, that my MORIANITY calls the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY, and is behind all of these unexplainable miracles, all of them. This is where all of our world's religions come from, even CHRISTIANITY. Anyone unable to see this basic truth, is as my daughter would say, “a freaking dinosaur”! But speaking of my daughter the great mysterious Lab-Tech at the Throat Specialist's Office, back that day in 1984; is she one of them? Did Mommy-Patty teach her how to join the ESS, Sheriff Mascara, sir?????????????? Think and ponder on this one for a darn second, and you too Mister Tony BonJovi, and Mister Ryan! There is a logical reason for anything and everything that ever happens. Unfortunately most people think that this explanation is mental illness. This is merely a visible clue. When people write and say such things as Morianity does, the mental illness books say that we are crazy and nuts. 'BUTTTTTTTT are we'; Mister George Burns, and Mister John Denver, and little Tracy?????

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

ENDocrinologists AND END TRANSMISSION.

MARK WAYNE MOHR, MOUNTAINPEN, (THE BOM)

BLOGS----OF----MOUNTAINPEN

BLOG 29 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

About Me

MARK WAYNE MOHR, (MOUNTAINPEN)

theansweristheqyuestion: Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.

View my complete profile

(GRANDSON OF GRACE ISABELE HUNTINGTON)

THE GREAT MIGHTY HUNTINGTON family. WOW Joanna, where will it ever 'endocrinologists', or END for that matter!

PROBABLY THE GREATEST UNKNOWN OF ALL!

SEPTEMBER 18, 2018,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON, AT 3:16,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 89 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 59%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS 97 DEGREES.

WIND IS ESE AT 8, AND RAINFALL IS 0.

“Now a little bit more on 'dreaming', verses having dreams, as well as where exactly all of these interactions are truly taking place”. I did not have the time to further explore these things the other day, because I need to tie in other things along with it, so that it all makes better sense to you, my Blogaud. I worked indirectly in the very start of the nineteen-eighties, in the entertainment bizz. I speak of the RPL Sound Studios of Camden, New Jersey, USAESMWG. To open up the subject, we will need to get back to the great plays of Sir William Shakespeare, and of course, his great world famous quotation of the world being a mere stage and all of us the actors or players in the game of life. Did you ever hear of a worldly play or show or movie where the characters were able and allowed to go off and just fully ad-lib and do their own thing all throughout it? Absolutely not. The great HALLS-FAWCES knew from a very early stage in all of this with me, that I was unwilling to cooperate with them and 'play their game' on their 'movie set', called the Astral Plane Late Show, staring Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr. I was given plenty of chances to correct the errors of my ways, but I am a very obstinate and stubborn person, and when my mind is made up, I am the epitome of rigidity and totally incorrigible. Naturally, I am just making up the name of the show here, for purposes of effect, and getting my point across as best as is humanly possible, to my Blogaud! To reiterate a bit here, DREAMS here in physical waking life on a planet we all call the Earth, is but a lower darker reality that results when our true spirit self or our ENERGY, is divided lawtronically by the square of the speed of light, or the constant, to quote the great Einstein, 'C'. Again, he said that E=MC SQ. So inverting the formula means that M=E/C-SQ. Even Holy Scriptures say that life here (physically) in contrast with truer spiritual existence, as like seeing through a glass darkly or dimly. It's right in the Bible for any of you to read, or just Google up the scripture about this, and you will have your proff to my facts. Remember people, we all are forever entitled to our opinions. But none of us are ever entitled to our facts. Reality is reality, and Einstein's great formula not only won WWll for us here is America, but it proves many truths about eternity and 'survival after death', looking at it humanly. But my point after all of this ranting on, is that we dream off of the Astral Plane or 'plankatory' as Morianity has coined this term. We have the center of this dream where we are inside of a clay structure that is biologically living as well as us. But other dreams are also taking place, both throughout the continuum of time in this universe, as well as in all of the varying times in all of the virtually countless parallel universes in the fifth dimensional hyperspace. It is not one dream, as we are not an electron. If we were, we would perceive all of time and all of the hyperspace as one truth that exists without separation. This is why subatomic particles such as electrons APPEAR to come in and go out quite mysteriously, of our reality. They don't really come from nowhere or vanish back into nothing, but rather they move along the fifth dimensional plane, hence this is why Morianity calls them fifth dimensional particles. Our minds and brains and bodies also of course, our made up of these many subatomic particles, and this is why our spirit or physical energetic counterpart, is able to do what ordinary folks call, HAVE DREAMS. So really, when we run out of energy after virtually limitless interactions in the Plankatory, we DREAM. It is one dream. However, our soul or true energy counterpart, is simply way too large to fit into one human type dream persona. This is why we all dream together and create the expanding nuclear hyperspace of so many parallel universes, where we can have our mega-dreams, all being US in truth, yet living parallel and different lives, in different times as well as in different universes. But there is a connection to our 'TOTAL DREAM' in each of our individual dreams. In every single dream, we are real and have a physical tangible and caporial body and life. Psychics have varying other concepts and do not believe this. To them, this 'dream world' is what they are deceived into seeing and perceiving through the monstrous sized illusion that is experienced. Hey, they're entitled to their opinions. I know better because I went past all of these illusions when I came to suddenly realize one day that such a thing as the 'TOWEL SEEPAGE EFFECT', is the proof that Morianity is the best explanation at least so far, to explain all of the mysteries behind these endlessly unknown things. Towel Seepage Effect is the way that events and situations in one universe, and even in one time; can absolutely effect the way that things are, in the world where we live, and conduct our business, and our life. Soon, Morianity will tell huge stories where this TSE is part of the entire matter. Again, this is my total proof that things work at least to some degree, as Morianity and its teachings, say it does.

Well, a couple of hours ago, my STUDDER-TONE has been repaired, and put back onto my Comcast Voice-Mail telephone account system. THANK YOU COMCAST, YO!

Random is really just a disguised pattern!!!!!

Oh yes, President's Day of 2016, and good old GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 109

HERE WE MOTHER ******* GO AGAIN, AND I THOUGHT PRESIDENT'S DAY WAS A HOLIDAY FOR THE MARKET, BUT IT MUST BE TRADING, AS DOORS STARTED TO SLAM AT JUST SHY OF HALF PAST NINE AT OPENING BELL, AND THEN LESS THAN AN HOUR AFTER THAT, MY CABLE FROZE UP AND DIED, AGAIN. THAT IS TWICE NOW IN LESS THAN A WEEK, PUBLIC UTILITIES COMMISSION.

Well, I appear to be mistaken, no trading today. I am mother ******* man enough to admit when I am wrong, peeps.

Me and dirty dancing Lenny Briscoe!

I wouldn't dare put Baby in the corner!!!!!!!!

I had a horrible mother ******* nocturnal experience early on Sunday morning. I was with Trump, and we were driving in one of his Mercedes automobiles, and he was speeding quite recklessly, and saying some wild **** to me that is not bloggable. Then he did something that activated one of those 'smart-car' devices that we all see on TV, where you command the music to play or the phone to dial someone up or whatever, from directions and GPS to where to find a place to take a ******* piss. It was night time, and I was in the passenger front seat, and all I will tell for now is that things are going on all over the localized hyperspace, and it has also done something to my Resident Manager of the building here where I reside, as ever since last week's ******* rectification appointment one week back today on the ******* **** eighth, SHE HAS TOTALLY VANSISHED. I tried all the rest of the week to get to see her, regarding a note at my door late Monday afternoon or early Tuesday morning, regarding getting a parking permit as too many nabes here have more than one clunker parked overnight and one car is the limit by regulation, and rental agreement lease. I try and try every day, and no one will help me, and I am worrying about being towed, and will contact Sheriff Mascara soon, as I know I am being ******* **** set up with this, along with my electrical and utility non ending assault. When you live in public housing, it is much easier for my Milituforce ******* dirt bag enemies to **** with my utilities, than it is in a private dwelling. This is the major drawback, besides rotten nabes all over, and a zillion other ******* non pleasantries. These bastard enemies are all political, and it has been my no good jerk off distant ******* cousin all along. This began when he announced running for president last ******* **** eating June, and it hasn't looked back, just as back in the late mother ******* eighties, when he used ICPE-APE TECHNOLOGY on me, after I dared to use it and even admit to using it, down in Atlantic city's Trump Castle Casino, that later became the Marina Hotel Casino, go figure, Princess, and all other ******* Mary-Queen royalty!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me give THAT a ******* **** ass wide turn, without any school buses catching god dam fuckiGN fire, YO!!!!!!!! These horrible monster bastard **** lickers, cut off my anti-anxiety medication, and then enjoy throwing my anxiety through the roof just about every single day. I have a question to any and all religious mother ******* people on the planet. IF THIS IS NOT ******* **** HELL, PLEASE INFORM THIS POOR OLD DIRT BAG **** EATING LOSER LIGHTWEIGHT, JUST WHAT HELL IS THEN!!!!!

Oh Sheriff, try not to hate me so much. I have tried so hard all of my life to be an honest, hard working, law abiding citizen of this country. But all I get is persecution and death siege. My life has been totally destroyed and wiped out.

Yes, this rotten society has taken all of my fave foods and drinks away from me, and they persecute me day and night with nightmares by night, and day hells by day, health attacks, utility attacks, people-influenced attacks, air sieges, noise, you mother ******* name it Sheriff kind sir, and they do it to me. But not really THEM, sir. These invisible HALLS FAWCES endlessly shielded so stealthfully behind those mighty and famous OZ-CURTAINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ENDocrinologists AND END TRANSMISSION.

SEPTEMBER 17, 2018,

MONDAY MORNING, AT 1:46,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 78 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 96%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS 85 DEGREES.

WIND IS STILL 0, & RAINFALL IS STILL 0.

MARK WAYNE MOHR, MOUNTAINPEN, (THE BOM)

BLOGS----OF----MOUNTAINPEN

BLOG 28 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

“GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS” CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

For a couple of days, I was in some pain with my right foot. I tried switching chairs at my computer work station, and it caused me to keep raising my foot. I woke up all through the night with sharp shooting pains in the damn foot, and slowly it lessened, and most of the past twenty-four hours, it is gone all together. That was a major pain in the ***-foot, if I do say so myself, kind people! On top of that, it has been low nineties in temperature with blazing high humidity, and this is supposed to keep right on going for most of the month, with a feels like temp in the range of a buck and a damn nickle.

Let me tell you another thing that has me about as urinated off as a tongue in an operating toaster oven! Many of the products that I enjoy eating, are being removed from store shelves, one right after another, Federal Trade Commission! To list the few that have me about as hopping frosted mad as a testicle decapitation victim, are as follows, in case any government agency is at all interested, and is listening in. Well, I know you are here, no doubt about Miss Chillie, and all of her ham-radio operator friends from the early nineteen-eighties, YO!

1) Swanson Chicken Ala king-------------------2) Seabrook frozen Creamed Spinach--------- 3) Canada Dry Bitter Lemon Soda-------------- 4) Snow Caps Candies---------------------------

And there are other goddamn things too!!!!

Yes sir/mahm great peeps, every time it gets to be my father's freaking birthday, POW, BANG, ZAM, ADAM BATMAN WEST!!! I GET CLOCKED with persecution and death siege, oh great FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, YO YO YO YO BRAH!!!

I plan to leave COMCAST just as soon as my two year contract with them is up. They took away my “STUDDER-TONE VOICE-MAIL FEATURE”, and insist it is my fault, and that the problem is on my end, when clearly IT IS NOT, FEDERAL TRADE COMMISSION!!!!!!!!!!

Now a little bit more on 'dreaming', verses having dreams, as well as where exactly all of these interactions are truly taking place. Dream-downs off of the Purgatory or what MORIANITY calls the Plankatory, all begin in those extra-weird (non-local) parts of the hyperspace. Hyperspace is a fifth dimensional fabric that contains the multiverse or metaverse, or whatever name that the scientists call the containment of all of the parallel-universes, where ours is merely one of a virtually limitless group of them. This is always where the majority of the extremely scarey and disjointed things appear to be what our lives are really all about. Now as the distant parallels of reality eventually begin filling up, the closer-in local-parallels of the (HS) hyperspace, such as our 'WAKING WORLD REALITY' begin to gradually wiggle through the hyper-reality. Still, the powers that exist in the disjointed and distant hyperspace (HS), make their presence known in these local waking worlds. Now humankind and all of their religions and systems of religion, greatly desire for all of this to make some sort of perfect rational sense. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, the reality of it all, with or without coworker and ex-pal, Mister Dennis Snyder, is that NOTHING MAKES SENSE, NOR DOES IT HAVE TO MAKE SENSE, and NOTHING is trying to help us (human-kind), or hurt us either, for that matter. The simple yet unfathomably powerful truth here is that the NUCLATRON (GOD) (SSJKK), spit us all out, in a developmental timed-program, and IT could care totally damn less about any of us. The truth here would make everyone wish to go into a private room and cry like little freaking babies for ten straight hours, but I'll say it aniwho. Imagine an almighty teenaged girl who lives quadrillions of years all on her sixteenth birthday, and on one of these many countless days, she decides to build a toy called us, and she falls in love with us and it really does matter to her, but alas, she gets totally bored and sick to tears with the entire matter long before ten of her minutes ever passes her by. When I have been with her, she loves to fly kites, play with large chains, and tease the hell out of me. She loves parties, naming things, counting things, and creating things. To attempt to describe SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE beyond this, would be a total waste of my time and effort and energy, and yours as well, kind folks! The powers and FAWCES that influenced the great SYFY RODDENBERRY TEAM, to create that awesome television show called, “STAR TREK”, seemed to be well informed of this being, as She surrounds our Milky Way Galaxy (MWG) with her negative polarized great pink energy, hence my description of HER ever since seeing this for the first time on a color television set, back around 2012 or thereabouts somewhere, “PINK GODDESS”!!! Only a few top open minded people who are skilled in science with PhD's in Astrophysics and other similar scientific disciplines, believe totally and one hundred percent, the words spoken here in my MORIANITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes people, I know for a total fact, that in HER GREAT CITY of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, which is Astral Plane lingo for the 'CITY OF THE GREAT SARAH KRASSLE', SHE loves to play games and she absolutely loves to fly a very special kite that I gave HER for HER 16^th birthday. Every nano-second forever and ever is of course, HER 16TH BIRTHDAY. That's just the way things work in the great Plankatory!!!

Let us now take a look at the HUNTINGTON CURSE and how this mighty and outlandish family, connects into all of this stuff; my kind people. I discussed in my dozen and a half plus year blogging project, AKA MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3, a term and label called by me, the founder and creator of Morianity, the PITSY. This stands for Port-In-The-Storm-Years. It is all about the lifetime that Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr is currently existing in physically, here in waking life, in this particular universe of 5^th dimensional hyperspace, or 11^th dimensional bi-polarity super-string fabric; and the few tiny years out of so many years of total unbelievable misery, where a small break from all of the hell, seems to somehow manage to surface. 1954 was the year of my birth in this current lifetime. The three 'PITSY YEARS' as of 1995, appeared to be, 1969, 1980, and 1994. I had thought in 1995 to have worked out a pretty damn cool mathematical formula for why this was indeed happening to me. It then predicted that in the year of 2011, my next Port-In-The-Storm-Year would come. In a way it did come, and just much smaller than in those three prior ones. I will not totally count it out, because I honestly thought that just maybe, some very powerful information that Lightning Goddess Diana had told me back in the early nineties, was going to be more than what it was. She told me that some beyond incredible and beyond bizarre event would occur, but that it would not really alter my personal life in ways that could be measured by normal ordinary mortal humankind. She, unfortunately was totally, absolutely, 100% correct. I speak of learning that I had a 38 year old daughter, in the year 2008. Let's not get any further into that horrendous nightmare for now, or I might drown in dishwasher liquid twice over, while chanting those magical words of 'Neo-ho-rengay-key-oh'! But moving on and getting back to cases here, kind people: It was 1994. B4I go on, Mortimer Mortino the death angel is passing by my left side at six minutes shy of three in the Ante' Meridian. He is extremely mother puking annoying! Yes, so it was 1994, as I was saying. I was living at the Highview GWPOS Apartments, in Williamstown, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and had moved in on the first week in April, staying there until the final week in August of 1996. I was in the tedious process of reestablishing my credit, and was doing a very good job. I had amassed an unfathomable huge available personal credit line by middle 1995 of well over a hundred freaking grand! I was driving a brand new Saturn Automobile that I purchased on the Moon-Landing day, July 20, 1994, LSD-YEAR after the actual one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind; oh lovely Serena Sutherland of L&O! No giant slices for me, NOT YET, gorgeous! Yes so here I am with a brand new life, new residence, new car, brand new great personal credit, you name it. This indeed was a great PITSY, as was 1980 before that, and 1969 before that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOOOOOOOOOOO, Mister Arthur Crane, from 1991, kind sir and pal, and SURVIVOR OF PAULA KING'S ATTEMPTED CAR HOMICIDE ON US; now that the great HUNTINGTON CURSE was again in danger of being messed with by any potential success or happiness for me whatsoever; HALLS FAWCES had to go immediately to work in hyper-drive hypertime overtime!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There had to be a MASTER PLAN so that they could wipe out and totally annihilate any chance for my happiness and success and the end of the HUNTINGTON CURSE. To quote the great DISCO-DIVA DONNA SUMMER, my LAST CHANCE and my last dance, HAD TO BE TERMINATED WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE! There was no Miss Chillie here, and there ain't no doubt about any of this stuff, Mister Pig Crap Bob Gagnus of Philly! HALLS FAWCES were just waiting in the wings, just as they were when I left the Cooley High Hell Hall of Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the end of January in the year of 1973. LIKE FREAKING WOW JOANNA. Jeepers Creepers and gee willagars. They just had to wipe my life out not once, but twice. The final chance for me to have any tiny bit of happiness and success on this goddamn planet, POOF, gone. The first time was just all sorts of zillions of evil monstrous things that they did to me, and they were on me like black flies on a damn July's garbage truck! But this time, my second and final opportunity, oh no, they had to have a really fantastic master plan to do me freaking in, and what was it? What else? It was SARAH! A part of my life that I had reassigned to my juvenile days, and had totally forgotten. But no, these FAWCES had to create dreams and nightmares and flashback memories, and then the entire **** in Atlantic City! Hey I'll give them an 'A' for brilliant ******* genius, kind peps and peeps, and wonderful folks out there, from lovely Mother Russia, to all points around the damn loving galaxy!

Yes, in one super fantastic quintessential fell swoop, KAPLOW, bye-bye to any chance for any happiness or any peace of mind for the MOUNTAINPEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!

You really have to see these HALLS FAWCES as absolutely brilliant and ingenious, you really mother ******* do. Only looking back at it all can I truly see how awesome and twisted and sick beyond a billion trillion vigintillion piles of dead puke and dog diareah, they are! Oh yes sir/mahm, Sarah, Paula, Patty-Stacey-Melanie, WHATEVER, Congressman Andrews, just like you always said to me back in the summer time in the year of 1975, old pal. WEEEEEEEEEEE! All of this led me straight from what should have been a blazing successful future for me, right smack dab into a $340,000.00 personal bankruptcy! Real clever and smart, this entire mother ******* SARAH matter!!!!

WOW-AS ALWAYS; WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE!

Yes people, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, 100% totally and completely. I just hope these mother ******* bastards feel like total super heroes! Boy oh boy oh boy, aren't they wonderful; destroying a poor underclass underprivileged poverty stricken special education student. Must make somebody and somebody's mom real proud. Oh yes folks, I wonder how Haddonwood's 'Trump-boy' is doing these days, and his lovely mom?

Oh the dangers of so many things, from powerful ocean storms to greedy fishermen on Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetties! In any event, danger exists in so many things, and “many people go through their lives with blinders on, or at least with rose colored glasses”, to quote my great and later father, Mister Wayne Landis Mohr, 5^th grandson of world famous Father-Mohr, of 'Silent Night'! But getting back to dangers in 'general', and no 'breakdowns', from the days of magical throat specialists and magical medications, that pill-mill, and State-AG Pam Bondi, hates so much. If karma is real and I doubt that it is, at least not in the way that the psychics believe that it is, but IF, one day, she or someone that she loves, will suffer with some similar horrendous nightmare, and some vicious prick will come along to make her life a living goddamn hell, just as she made mine, sheriff Mascara, sir; and last time I checked sir, this is America, and I'm mother ******* permitted to speak my mind, and tell the truth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back now on pernt, Mister Archibald Queens Bunker sir, THE DANGER OF NUKES giving eventual programmed birth to the element of carbon, and then to sentient life beings that exist physically; is that WATER ALWAYS SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL, to quote another late and great person and an old pal of mine, Mister David Charles Roth. Let me explain just what I mean here kind folks! Once here as sentient carbon based beings (the human race), we eventually begin to develop and interact with the invisible world of 'electronics'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't underplay these words, my brothers and sisters, or you'll prove to be the biggest fools in the metaverse, I promise you. Now this will then go on to become the slow and tedious process of “THEM” operating and existing THROUGH US, as the controllers, and of a remote-control physical army of drones. THAT WAS THE FORBIDDEN AND INCREDIBLE KNOWLEDGE that was imparted more than half a dozen centuries ago, to the great world famous philosopher, Mister William Shakespeare, with his well known statement that ONLY HE truly knew the absolute power behind it, “All the world is a stage, and all the people are only the actors in the play”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Laugh until you turn shades of greenish freaking purple for all I care. I am telling you a powerful reality and truth, lads and lassies, YO YO YO YO YO YO! You see kind folks, I personally came to fully understand all of this, as a result of my unfathomable interactions IN THE WORLDS OF ELECTRONICS, ever since my goddamn early boyhood. SSJKK knows I am telling only the mother ******* truths here, folks!

I have been either blessed or cursed, with the very unique viewpoint and horizon, depending on who may be viewing these writings and these truths that are being told to this world on this blog called MORIANITY, of watching humanity innocently falling quite rapidly into the great cosmic bear trap. Only here, the bear is not some wild and vicious powerful animal, but rather combinations of infinitesimally tiny subatomic particles, and stringed-together dots of energy, that are the forces behind them. These entities exist in all five dimensions of a fabric of a sort, as one reality, so both time, as well as parallel reality, is quite meaningless to these entities or HALLS-FAWCES, that lay well hidden behind the OZ-CURTAINS. Now just as all of reality itself, is literally moved and carried along, at approximately six-hundred-seventy million miles per hour out away from itself in every possible direction, continuously and virtually forever; by one electron literally speaking to another electron, which creates what is called a photon; literally describing in every possible complex detail, much as an artist describes his or her work, and then makes it appear on a sound recording, or a picture, or some similar medium; reality now moves along by becoming a photon wave, that is not all that different than a photocopy machine making a copy of a sheet of paper, and what is printed onto it. So also, on a scale so tiny that no one could ever imagine it, these tiny signal dots as I call them, ALSO PLAY A COSMIC MUSICAL SONG. This of course is the general and basic idea and principle of PARTICLE STRING THEORY! What only a handful of people seem to grasp in my time period here on this little blue marble called the Earth Planet, is that one very large fabric surrounds a singularity. Then space, time, and a multiplex of realities or universes that contain space and time, or as we now call it Space-Time, and Morianity has labeled it even truer as SPACE-TIME-MIND, is ejected on opposite sides of this great hole, but both of them are on their own separate fabrics, as they need to be since they run out on opposite polarities. The five dimensions are L, W, D, T, and H. They are on opposite sides, and they contain opposite magnetic polarities. So this is why there are really eleven dimensions in the String System, the one fabric that both of these five-dimensional fabrics are situated on, so that is two fives or 5X2=10, and then the great fabric containing both, only on opposite sides so they never touch. So 10+1=11, and is why there are eleven dimensions. But Lawtronics will begin to force both of these expanding fabrics to fall and drop down towards each other eventually. When this happens and they meet, this will cause the BIG BANG. So why then did the BIG BANG all ready happen? Because you are mortal, thinking like a human being, and insist on seeing linear time in what is called your conscious mind awareness!

Now I eluded to having a lot more information on some of the humans that are merely the actors and actresses in this cosmic Shakespearean play. I also said that without people in my corner who will trade protecting me from them and their evil, even though they really do not understand themselves why they endlessly perpetrate these evils upon me, I in return will tell things so powerful and beyond incredible, and prove it, that you won't know what the hell to do with it, to quote another non-pal person from the spring time of the year 1971, Mister John Gillerlain, and also from the mighty and wild Cooley Hall High Hell. But until somebody wishes to make this trade with me, my knowledge will remain forever buried with me. WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

This is the absolute worst summer that I have ever experienced in my entire life. Since late June right through nearly the end of this season now, it has been pure pure pure gega-HELL!!!

I had so many **** ups that I could not get over to the SHERIFF'S OFFICE so far this week, but definitely hope to do so later on this Friday, and final week and work day!

Since my enemies are causing me so much unfathomable **** huffing pain and agony, let's discuss them. As soon as I typed that last sentence, and of course, like duh, my mouse is getting the hackasaw Stacey treatment, from the world of the 'early eighties' Jack-Attacks! Gee willagars and **** soup, I'm like totally shocked, as the kids might put it! WOW Joanna! And before we do this, sweet peeps out here; I will go over the events of the past four days of unadulterated ******* hell, September 10^th, 11^th, 12^th, and 13^th. Fire alarms are too many to count or keep track of. Utility harassment is off the dial, mostly with the Comcast telephone, but with other things too. I put up with a major hassle when merely trying to reorder or refill my anti-anxiety prescription, and this is all a result of the scum bag narc-squad, and their 'THREE-STOOGES TEAM', we all know and hate, at least on the “D” side of the aisle up there at Crapitol Hell, and that is Florida AG Pam Bondi Scumsleaze, Governor Prick Snott, and President D. J. Rump!

Not only did they totally **** up my telephone, but Mister Mike Patterson's telephone as well. Both our systems went down, and just at a critical time when we had some urgent business to discuss. AMERICA STILL, AS I HAVE SAID FOR A DOZEN YEARS NOW, IS THE EVIL EMPIRE. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT folks, what is America? If you think I mean the America that used to exist back when I was in school, then you don't mother ******* know or understand the MOUNTAINPEN one little bit. Morty Mortino the death angel is passing by my right side, and has been annoying the pig **** out of me for so long now that I have lost count. For reasons I do not understand, he seems unable or unwilling to tap me on my shoulder, left or right side, and just continues to endlessly scan my position, day and night, year after year, and eternity after mother ******* eternity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now speaking of eternity, let's talk about HALLS damn FAWCES. Gene Roddenberry, who created the great TV-SHOW STAR TREK, and other great syfy writers such as those behind other greats such as STAR WARS, all tend to know some things that Morianity knows they could not know, unless they have been indirectly communicated with or what AAT peeps call (Alien-Contacted); and it's really just a matter of differing word choices. Still, even though it was Star Wars that Mister Hall was obviously referring to, when he spoke those words up there in Camden back around 1990 somewhere, “You must be in with the FAWCES”, all the great shows if you really are a fan, and if you have good retention, you know that they all seem to believe in these “HALLS-FAWCES”, and only one show gave it the name of “The Force”, but what is in a name, Rose Shakespeare?

What are HALLS FAWCES? In fact, 'let's get serious' here, Mister Jacksonlate, and move ahead thirty-five years into 2018. The forces or this force that is behind everything, or as stated in my 1996 song lyric, “Same force behind it all, SHE lives on Tennessee Street”. Well Paula King does more than live on Tennessee Street, she works right there, has a parking lot on the street, and a radio station called WAYV. I had no idea about any of that however, when I wrote those song lyrics back in late 1996; oh great and powerful United States Library of Congress Copyright © Office! Yes people, all joking aside, just what is REALLY happening here? Is there really a force or a power that exists, and to our human minds, we call that in our total ignorance, a 'singularity'? Is zero dimension really some all knowing and all powerful reality that none of us can ever hope to understand one tiny bit, now or ever? YES. Want a simple answer, you'll get one, lads and lassies. YES, I'll even repeat myself! There is absolutely no way that you or I (WE OF THE HUMAN KIND RACE ON THE WAKING WORLD PHYSICAL PLANE) can ever know or understand 0-D (Zero-Dimension) or as the Cern-Collider folks call it, the SINGULARITY! BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT folks, the few people who HAVE INTERACTED in one way or another, with THIS GREAT FORCE; GALACTIC BARRIER, PINK GODDESS, call it ECK, GREAT SPIRIT, GOD, JEHOVAH, CHRIST, SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, or any other name you may ever wish to use; we should be listened to, and not ignored. Not the way that I have been anyway, by those Earthly powers and forces who manipulate and control this damn world. So why do Earthly powers keep me down and out, and expend virtually unlimited time, attention, and energy, even right down to the expense of being with their own loving families? Simple answer here folks. They know who I am, 'THE CHOSEN TO SUFFER HUNTINGTON', passed down in this family line now for 2200 mother ******* years. Still, we are not exploring the Earthly powers on this writing today, but 'the FORCES', to almost quote the great Mister Hall. In zero dimension, not even the Plankatory exists. Nothing exists, 'nonexistence exists', the great oxymoron or maybe even the damn quintessential oxymoron. But it is not an oxymoron. Nonexistence is a reality that finite freaking minds such as all of us, and that is without exception, are unable to grasp this powerful concept or maybe said a bit better, this NEW-TRUTH. When zero dimension is acted on by the force of nonexistence, it creates Plank-time, or the plankatory as Morianity has coined the term. When the entities that eventually exist are there, they have always been there and will always be there, because that is the way things work in non-time dimensional existence. Looking at the universe around us, we cannot see truth, only zillions of extremely powerful illusions. When the entities of the plankatory dream out and away from their existence there, when exhausted by virtually infinite interactions, this becomes the nuclear universe we now are living in physically. But things did not come out in one place. They broke out in two separate fabrics around the great hole. One of them contains one charge of mass polarity while the other contains an opposite charge. Simply put, one in relation to the other one, has electrons that are positively charged and protons that are negatively charged. Thea fabric is like huge rolls of multidimensional carpets that cannot ever come together because the time or separation that continues to move, is moving in opposite directions. Someday perhaps trillions or quadrillions of years from now, these fabrics will begin to fall downward and even eventually slam into each other. This is where it all began, then, not with another big bang, but the original one. There are no multiple points of singularity which is why even the dummy scientists know that a controlled worm hole would literally erase out the distance or the space between them. Even the smartest guys on TV today, still see the whole damn thing as mortals always do, in a linear reality. The universe will end someday. Believe that illusion and you are king of the buttwipes club! We exist. Time is pure illusion. I did not say this makes sense here, while alive on this Earth, and inside of our physical bodies. The only way existors such as us can ever stop existing would be to trade places with non-existors. They would love to trade places with us, the grass is always greener on the other side of Ziggy's Pier. Anyone remember that from earlier blogging texts? But how can existors ever make that magical deal with them? No one in infinity has ever found a way to communicate with the non-existors. We only know that there are an infinite amount of non-existers inside of a finite amount of 'whatever', say space if it makes more sense to your mind, even though in ZD, there is no space, or time. ZD = EWI. (zero dimension is existence without interaction). Plank-time or plankatory, is interaction without time. Once in the state just beyond the ZD, every 'thought' is one and the same with a created reality. Time and space gets created as a result of the interaction. On the mortal plane of human existence, we need to first have the time and the space in order to have the interaction take place. Then there is what is called PHASE-4. This is a team of wild entities on the ASTRAL-PLANE or the plankatory, who intentionally try to dream into the human realms in ways that give them too much power or too much edge and advantage over the rest of us, in a very unfair way. The FAWCES however have built something into the system that is part of their LAWTRONICS as Morianity has termed and labeled this. When they make that cosmically illegal attempt, in just about all of the instances where this occurs, instead of dreaming into a newly born piece of otherwise dead clay, they only make it so far in here, as the imaginings and fantasies of some of us already living people. This is where we get all of our great superheroes like Superman and Spiderman, as well as all of our wild tales. Not one single solitary thing can ever be made up. Not a song, not a play, not anything. It is all PHASE-4 entities or (P4E) who try and cheat, and end up in that state here, in ALMOST ALL CASES. But once in a blue moon, we get someone who slips through the cracks, such as Donald John Trump! And yes, THERE ARE SOME OTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And as long as society and forces who govern us all, in this world, chose to disbelieve me and ignore me, we are going to be in more and more extremely grave danger, as a society, as we continue leaping into the age of super high technological advancement, that will accelerate these evils to a point where things will be forever beyond the point of no goddamn return. This I promise all of you!!!

Yes people, the Nuclatron indeed created all of this, or said biblically, “God created the heavens and the Earth”. The majority of people will never need to see the truths of Morianity. It is here because of who I am, what I have been forced to endure and live through, and because for reasons inconceivable to me, I really do still care about this world after all I've been put mother ******* through. I know that if the real brainiac folks ever read my ****, they will eventually make contact with me, and we can fight these evil powers that are all around me, and doing all of this to me.

Will I ever tell a lot more about Patty-Paula you may be asking me, from Russia all the way to the great down-under lands? Sure I will, but I am going to need protection from this powerful and perhaps virtually all mighty being before I do so. In case you need reminding folks, she ain't no ordinary person. Where in the name of Goddess are you when I need you, Sheriff Mascara sir? I know you don't want my skull turning up in a shallow grave like those others you saw the other day. If you don't think these Atlantic City witches can do it, then you are underestimating them big big time, kind sir!

THIS IS:

BLOG 28 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

MOUNTAINPEN SAYS, AND I QUOTE,

“**** you to the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE”. SHERIFF KEN MASCARA OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA, U. S. A. , SIR; I AM UNDER A MAJOR HEAVY DEATH SIEGE TODAY, AND THIS IS A DYING MANS UTTERANCE AND DECLARATION, AS WELL AS AN OFFICIAL LEGAL DOCUMENT, AS I UNDERSTAND THE LAW, AND AS I AM IN FEAR OF MY LIFE FROM THE ENEMIES WHO THESE BLOGS HAVE DISCUSSED AND NAMED FOR THE PAST TWELVE AND A HALF PLUS YEARS, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The great National Aeronautics and Space Administration just set off another rocket, without any help from “Little R-Man” Kimmy. I knew as soon as this mother ******* NASA BULL**** struck me early this **** huffing moUUUUUUUUUrning; things were going to be real bad. There is noise in my area, and the skies are alive with stalking private covert black file agency planes as well as CHEMTRAILS all over my area here in lovely hot hellish Fort Pierce, FLUSAESMWG!

My nabes are banging on top of the outside music attack earlier, and as stated, the skies are major serious! Watch out, there will be some huge weather disasters and major aerial crashes as the next days and weeks follow if this mother ******* death siege doesn't back the Dogtown off of me, YO!

The mouse and my computer as well, is also under a major mother ******* STACEY LATTISAW JACK HACK ATTACK, without any tapes turned or makes moved, whatever all that was about, lovely Stace!

YUK-YUK-YUK, WHAT A SUCKER!

The ongoing reason for my hellish trip through waking world hyperspace in the human parts of the metaverse/multiverse, is simple enough, once some of the basics are understood just a wee damn bit, kind peeps! Yes I indeed have said that someone in this present time Huntington family must suffer the tradeoff of Sarah Krassle's 'video-game' where a substitution is offered those who are in rebellion with their Almighty GODDESS SSJKK, and built into this super cool game is the only way to not rack up more ASTRAL-INTERACTIONS in a region in PLANK, that Morianity refers to as “DOGTOWN”, and you might translate for yourselves as my readers as “HELL”! Many 'Christians' who are clueless to super hushed up powerful truths, will holler out real quickly that my teachings are SATANIC and EVIL, as they do not agree 100% perfectly with (ONLY JESUS) being able to make that tradeoff with those willing participants of humanity who use their free will, and decide to become (SAVED)/(BORN-AGAIN)/(WHATEVER)! Only it is the ignorance of humankind making this illusion appear to them in this manner. Those who understand code-DNA, such as Professor Kaku of NYU, and David Childress of the AAT Society; see that I tell no lie. But without getting too far off the point that I'm trying to make on this blog, let me get back down to freaking cases here, my kind folks.

Yes, I am suffering as the present day, and time, and age, 'CHOSEN-HUNTINGTON', and this will never ever be anything other than completely true, and completely hellish and nightmarish, but still; in order to have this horrific **** bestowed on me; a real-world group of situations are necessary in order to bring my suffering about. Nothing ever just freaking happens just out of the blue for no reason, or only perhaps for 'no apparently humanly distinguishable reasons'. I SPEAK OF, OH YES, HERE WE GO AGAIN; ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY, (PARALLEL EVENT), and how the gods brought this information to me at a bathtub in my apartment one day, early in 1986, at the Highview Apartment Complex of Williamstown, GWPOS, New Jersey, U. S. A.

Every single time, since my nightmares all started going from frying pan intensity, directly into FIRE-INTENSITY, on August 15, 1986, it was all a result of ICPE-APE-TECH, something not from this world, Mister David Childress, and Professor Michio Kaku of NYU. It seems that no one is permitted to use special information from beyond, to try and rearrange their personal life or improve it, or interfere in any way with this information, with the society that the great Nuclatron (Sarah Jehovah Krassle), has spit out from what the Cern-Collider peeps call, the (Plank-Time)! I dared to use this PARALLEL-EVENT system in the Earthly casino game known by most all folks, as Roulette. Playing outside bets, there are three parameters of the 36 non vig-house numbers of 0 and 00. All 36 of those numbers are either red or black, either odd or even, and either low or high. Without boring anyone to total freaking tears and going into pages of boring text on how to work the system, the powers to be from Earthly casino owners all the way to the not so Earthly higher FAWCES, knew before too much time had elapsed, since I began using this in the Atlantic City Casinos, that I was disrupting the Huntington Curse, and that I, as the CHOSEN HUNTINGTON, was not permitted to break out and away from the great SALVATION TRADEOFF CURSE of this mind bending incredible, and totally unfathomable, family lineage; YO BRO!!!!

One day while playing a roulette game at Donald John Trump's Castle Casino, now called the Trump Marina, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USA, EARTH, SOL, MWG; I was stopped by the security peeps at the Casino Control Commission Booth, nearby the table where I had been playing; and the folks there politely requested that I tell them just exactly what I was doing with all of my little stick figures, and notepad pages. Like a total innocent idiot of just barely thirtiesh in age, thinking the world was a relatively OK place, and that everything was all sugar and spice, and peaches and cream, and 'jelly and jam' which is a more 'Astral Plane' accepted expression for describing it, especially in the Capitol City of the Capitol Province of Olympia, called, “SAHASRA DAL KANWAL”, I explained to those who were inquiring, just precisely and exactly what I was doing, comparing all twelve bi-parameters of all spins, against the remaining parameter on the following spin. This way, there is a constantly running twelve possible outside stick figure betting possibility, that have a chance to line up with a strong parallel event where lots of stick figures are on one side, and very few are on the other side. Put simply, waiting for one of the strong parallel event betting situations and betting with the strong parallel with all of the stick figures, using high value money chips placed on their gaming layout cloths, I was raking in the money like a damn king, just not you Paula!LSS folks (Long-Story-Short), there is more to this that makes the odds shift from a negative advantage when using this, all the way to about a 2% positive advantage in endlessly running play-time, but no need to even get into all of that. Once I gave my brief whittle synopsis to those CCC folks at the casino gaming booth, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE, because the great math whizzes knew this really works, and really can indeed defeat not only roulette, but anything it is applied against. Hacking of course, FBI, Mister FCC former Chairman/Director McDowell, and ACLU, etcetera, is really really picking up, and gee folks, I WONDER FREAKING WHY? Now this is not a blog about how to beat gaming systems, but rather to discuss however, since that very day in middle 1986 at Trump's dirt bag casino in ACNJUSAESMWG; THESE HALLS FAWCES CONTROLED HUMANS, and most likely many if not most or even allofem, as a part of the great frightening travelers club that MORIANITY calls the (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY), declared total mother ******* war on poor pathetic helpless little MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, and things have been like this now for over 32 **** lapping dirt bag years!!!

Yes there is a powerful reality that certain PLACES, and TIMES, have some bizarre significance to these WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES that were described to me along with his accent, by Mister Hall, the Security Officer and my coworker, at a licorice plant on Jefferson Street, up in Camden, New Jersey, USAESMWG. This was around late 1989 somewhere, or maybe early in 1990. I also worked with this cool dude back in 1980 and 1981 at the same place, and while my full time employment was just a mile or so away from there, at the RPL Sound Recording Studios, at 1558 Pierce Avenue, and 1100 State Street. This dude was telling another coworker of both his and mine, whose name now eludes me, since I never really had any significant dealings nor conversations with this other fellow, but after this other fellow mentioned some real weird thing that had just happened to him, Mister Hall's reply back to him was, and I'll never forget it if I live to be 673 years old, and that was, “You must be in with the FAWCES”. Of course he said or meant to say the forces, but as I stated, he had that strong AA-accent, and that is most likely what made this stand out for me more than anything else, YO! It's just that audio-engineer part of me I suppose! Still folks, I feel the need to occasionally keep reminding my BLOGAUD (Blogging-Audience) just what this (HALLS-FAWCES) deal is really all about. I know that there are more things in all of your lives than just sitting around reading the MOUNTAINPEN!

About Me

MARK WAYNE MOHR, (MOUNTAINPEN)

theansweristheqyuestion: Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.

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(GRANDSON OF GRACE ISABELE HUNTINGTON)

THE GREAT MIGHTY HUNTINGTON family. WOW Joanna, where will it ever 'endocrinologists', or END for that matter!

PROBABLY THE GREATEST UNKNOWN OF ALL!!!!

Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, Jimmy Stuart and Uncle Billy Hypertron of the (Never Born Club) of all great hypnotherapists of the Moorestown, New Jersey, U. S. A. area. Yes, when those guys had me under the 'whatever', and ran a tape of the session, I heard myself after the therapist asked me when I was born, and my words were, “I was never born”. They did not want to do any further treatments after that doozie, Captain Callio Dodge Drunkmirrors! Oh well folks, I wouldn't want to bother my wonderful County Sheriff while he is busy examining human skulls in my local neck of Al Roker's woods! Maybe later if and when he is a bit less busy, YO!

THE ILLEGAL GUEST ACROSS FROM ME IS SLAM SLAM SLAMMING AWAY TODAY, AND ANNOYING THE MOTHER ******* **** OUT OF ME, SIR SHERIFF. My upstairs scumbag nabes were major noisy early in the day moving furniture around as they do so damn often, making more noise than a mother ******* World War ll BATTLEFIELD, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel sorry for myself, but even sorrier for others out there, who have been driven mad and crazy throughout the past three mellenia by these HALLS-FAWCES, and never knowing what REALLY was happening to them. Here is one example that has made a lot of people literally 'lose it', because they begin to think it is them and not seeing that this is all being done to them. When I was on a HOLD while waiting to discuss a personal matter with a pharmacist earlier today, I did the 'old experiment'. If I mumble or speak aloud, anything, and especially anything controversial or OBJECTIONAL to these HALLS-FAWCES; they either somehow magically and quite Hollister-mysteriously manage to transfer me into a never-ending-hold, or disconnect me all together. Wanna' hear what I mumbled? I said that I wish the feature that they used to use was back, where those holding and waiting would have a count-down on how many calls were ahead of you. In other words, while the music loop is playing, it would break in and say, “You have three callers ahead of you”, then as you continued to hold, it would count down to two callers, and then one caller; you get the picture. When I was suddenly placed onto an infinite holding pattern, I called back, and this time I kept my mouth completely shut. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, big *** butt, kind folks; this time, the count-down was suddenly back onto their muzak system. Now ordinary people experiencing stuff like this, would begin to think that they are going absolutely crazy and nuts, BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT I KNOW BETTER you see, because peeps, I've been inside of this lunacy, and magical-Hollister bull**** now for three or four solid decades!

“This is all”, as the great Jim Tyberious Burr used to put it, back in the middle nineteen-seventies, kind folks; “actually, literally happening to me”. And yes folks, to some others as well, and I don't doubt that for a damn *** microsecond!

THAT'S JUST REALITY, SON!

NO FUNNY FACE FARGO PHOTOS NEEDED!

It really is ashame that so many other people throughout history, that definitely were targeted for whatever the possible various reasons, by HALLS-FAWCES, went through their pathetic bull**** blind and ignorant, and eventually wacky and nuts as a Walnut Tree! BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT (all Fort Pierce, Florida, Library Hackers, of 2010), just who was Patty-H? And what REALLY is this FASCITAR thing all about, as so many wonder about, and never have the damn testicles to ask me about? Every single time that anyone of you out here ever wonders why anything that either you do or anyone around you did, or for that matter, wonders why you or they DID NOT do something, or for that matter, say or not say something; every time folks; this is really a higher reality of your own soul, the real and true YOU, asking me, the MOUNTAINPEN, this very question, and some others that are quite similar. Doesn't anyone remember anything anymore? The reason I am hated by a lot of these 'HALLS FAWCES' is because they cannot control my mind the same damn way that they control just about everybody else's. That totally pisses them off. Take that straight to the gods-damn bank of hellfire!

Yesterday was a very horrendous mother ******* SUPER-BOTBAR-DAY for me, my fiends and friends out here, from Russia with love, all the way around the world to here, there, and every freaking where, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!

When I tried calling Mike down in Hollywood last night on my landline COMCAST PHONE AKA my (house-phone), I was disconnected and blocked and voice scrambled, and about five illegal civil rights violation persecutions were done to me; A TOTALLY LEGAL AMERICAN CITIZEN, BORN HERE IN THIS ******* UP COUNTRY on December the 4^th of 1954 at 9:30 in the godsdamn morning, at the Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania Hospital!!!! The COMCAST people still have not effected the needed repairs to my phone system, yet boy oh boy, they sure expect me to always PAY MY DAMN BILLS ON TIME, BRO!!!! These words have proved out as totally freaking true. They are not true or false because Mister dirt-bag-Mountainpen has typed them and posted them. Reality proves or disproves itself. Still, as Doctor Bruce Goldberg said in his great book from about two decades ago now, “World War ll made all the newspapers”. Unlike Studio Park Records, and many other powers and forces who have made MARK WAYNE MOHR, vanish and disappear; when something becomes big enough, no amount of TRUMPISM can create fakeism. I honestly don't know how to better say these truths, or as Jay-Jay Evens puts it so well forty years ago, on his great TV-SHOW “Good Times”, “WHAT CAN I SAY”?

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to rat-tat, and forget the darn football, from the old oh-six/oh-seven years, where things for me were shaping up big time in ways no mortal mind could ever hope to freaking grasp. B4I get down to cases, I screwed up on my last blog on the BLOGGER site, so you will see two CHAPTER 23's on the right side margin. SAHWEE FOLKS, MY-F-UP!

1802 Robin Hill, was very magical, and I'll bet even Patty H. agreed with that, back in 1980. The trouble is, I was out of contact at that time, but the reason for that would take five years to scratch any serious surface about, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, for one thing, it was where I resided in a particular matching time year, 1---9---8---0. A half blind and brain injured snotty bratty child however, can plainly see that these two numbers both contain three similar digits.

So let's talk about the three digits here of 1-8-0, since they appear in both 1980 as well as in 1802. There was a special day when I lived in the Oaklyn apartment back between late July of 1969 and up through the end of February of 1975, when Santa and Patty H. helped my mom and I move out of there and into 1118 Linden Hill Apartments, in Lindenwold, New Jersey, USAESMWG. Thanks to the great KING FAMILY, I cannot post lots of incredible stuff up on the internet of this modern day era. There is only poor little old fart sniffer me, and my photo, that is left.

Oh well, 'that's the way it goes', to quote my old beach bud back in 1969, Mister Ziggy Malyeska.

Moving back to a day back at my apartment at O-15 Oakland Avenue, Dellway Arms, in Oaklyn, it was very early in 1974. My father had returned after not seeing him for nearly a full decade. He had been treasure diving with the famous Melvin Fisher the treasure hunter, of Florida. These two men were also close in this diving effort, with another man of the Real 8 Corporation, by the name of Kip Wagner. Aniwho, I was in my bedroom and inside my head was suddenly an inaudible but totally unmissable voice. It said Melanie Safka's great 1971 song would be on the radio at 2:08 just a couple of hours in the future. Sure enough at precisely this time in the afternoon, on it came on, if memory serves me, a radio station on the lower end of the dial for the Philadelphia area, called WFIL. This song was titled, “Brand New Key” and I always liked that song. Still, I never ever forgot the prophetic nature that was somehow associated with the song, myself, and the artist, Mizz Melanie Safka. But there is about a trillion other things that are part of this deal, and time won't permit me to even start discussing it all right now on this particular blog. Still, the time on that afternoon, 2:08, contains every single part of my future apartment number at Robin Hill, nearly six and one half years before I ever lived there or even knew the place existed. Also, it contains the '8' and the '0' in 1980 and 1802. Then my Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason and his wife, my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, had a home in the Philadelphia suburbs in Narberth, Pennsylvania. It was on Greentree Lane, overlooking many TV and radio antennas, later named the Studio Park, but after I had seen another such place in a parallel universe or a (dream) in 1986.And yes folks, the address was 1208 Greentree Lane. A perfectly matched and merely rearranged number to the apartment of 1802. But the part of this that I never told on any of my blogs, not ever, was my mom's mysterious magical coworker, Mizz Patricia Hollister, who taught me the NEO-HO CHANT as well as cleverly made sure that the mighty secret 'FASCITAR' was delivered into my hands, appeared to me in a very wild and powerful vivid dream, about a month after she and her friend Santa, helped my mom and I move, from the Oaklyn apartment, to the apartment in Lindenwold. In this beyond outlandish and unfathomable (parallel event reality or dream), she was wearing a beautiful bright white dress with lovely giant polka dots that were jet black. However in bright red ink, these black circles all contained those three magical digits of one, eight, and zero. So looking at this dress from a distance, one would see just a lot of different ones and eights and zeros. This meant nothing to me, at the time.

Religion is nothing more than a way for power structures to have TOTAL CONTROL over the lives of all of the people. All throughout history, these words have proved out as totally freaking true. They are not true or false because Mister dirt-bag-Mountainpen has typed them and posted them. Reality proves or disproves itself. Still, as Doctor Bruce Goldberg said in his great book from about two decades ago now, “World War ll made all the newspapers”. Unlike Studio Park Records, and many other powers and forces, who have made MARK WAYNE MOHR, vanish and disappear; when something becomes big enough, no amount of TRUMPISM can create fakeism. Still, my fiends and friends out here on the great-net, eventually I will tell a whole lot more about how the science behinds this really operates and how our P-45 top dog did all the magical things that he has done! There is absolutely no such thing as Alzheimer's Disease or any other forms of brain malfunctions involving memory loss. This is all merely the mortal world explanation of why memories fade and vanish forever. In truth, powers that are inconceivable are behind making changes on an invisible and gradual level, and this is actually causing people to 'not forget' but actually 'correctly remember' newer remade realities. I know this sounds so off the wall to you that you refuse to believe it. Joe Paget made the mistake of allowing me to really show him some proof to such things, and yes as a result, the poor bastard went nuts as hell. The RC Church and many other powerful large religious organizations know fully well that HALLS FAWCES is real and true. They totally know that Mister Einstein was given knowledge that proves MORIANITY is 100% real and true, the inversion of the world famous formula totally proves that life in the physical world is merely a lesser darker reality than where we all exist in a timeless interaction. But if the powers who control us on this physical plane wish to have any real way to control the population, THEY MUST ALWAYS USE THE FEAR OF HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION! There is simply no two ways about any of this, or as record promoter Mister Lenny McKinnon would put it so well back in 1981 on his CB Radio Channel, to his CB Radio pal, Miss Chillie, “Ain't no doubt about it”!

ENDocrinologists AND END TRANSMISSION.

[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Thursday, September 20, 2018

BLOG 31 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

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