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37 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN
MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
Ladies
and gentlemen, now I'll get down to some interesting cases, concepts,
and points regarding my WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE ENEMIES. Lots of mother
freaking people are not going to like this blog all that much, I
promise you, WOMO/MO!
SEPTEMBER
30, 2018,
EARLY
PREDAWN SUNDAY MORNING, AT 3:19,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,USA, ESMWG.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS HACKED DEGREES FNHT.
TODAY'S
RANGE: (H-HACKED/L-HACKED).
HUMIDITY
IS HACKED %, AND THE
HEAT
INDEX IS HACKED DEGREES.
WIND
IS HACKED AT HACKED, GUSTING TO HACKED.
RAINFALL
TODAY IS HACKED.
One
thing that I'll never to these mother ******* hackers, is “Don't
you know that you're out of sight, in the morning light”, and NO,
not LIGHTHOUSE, Mister Spellchecker, SIR,
'WOW THAT', all great and powerful
NON-OZ
EXPLORATRONIC
ENDocrinologists,
EXPLORATRONIC
ENDocrinologists,
EXPLORATRONIC
ENDocrinologists,
EXPLORATRONIC
ENDocrinologists,
EXPLORATRONIC
ENDocrinologists.
If
only I were free to tell you all
a whole damn lot more, but it
would be very risky,
I promise you. No one believes me, no one is offering me any real
world protection from HALLS
FAWCES,
which are AKA the WOMO-MILITUFAWCES.
I can give you some more powerful but general information on Patty's
FASCITAR,
and even PATTY
for that matter, or as I
have come to hyphenate
this in more recent times; Patty-Paula.
I can give a lot of information on why our 'true
beingness' and endless awareness (SOUL),
travels around to places both in
the hyperspace,
as well as even the occasional
trips back into the Plankatory.
Here are just a tiny teeny red-line-crossings, that may get me into
all sorts of trouble, that even Sheriff Mascara may not be able or
willing, to help me out of!
You
all have the ability to examine all of my Google-Blogger (TIME AND
DATE STAMPED) older freaking blogs. You know perfectly well that I
discussed a conversation over at the Honorable Judge Frank Raso's
rental home at 65 Middle Road, in Berryville, AKA Hammonton, New
Jersey, USAESMWG, with the great DAWN-MARIE KING, my captor and
clever persecutor in 2008-2009, under a very well globally accepted
term even among the psychiatric industry, “Stockholm Syndrome”.
We
were discussing how my daughter would literally be allowed and able
to off somebody, and not go to jail.
You all know it is up there in those year periods of time, when I
indeed blogged this fateful and quite powerful conversation between
us. She made that incredible statement to me in the living room of
that awesome open-concept 6-19 hall-less room home of mysterious
winds and slammed doors. Now just who out here remembers the days
when our wonderful President
#45
made his famous statement that went along the lines of “I
could shoot somebody out on 5th
Avenue and get totally away with it”?
Hey, I remember it, and I'll bet dollars to donuts that lots of folks
out here do as well, YO! Of
course, that is not proof that he watches me continually and has been
since the eighties, nor is it legal proof of my phone and residences
and automobile being under constant major surveillance. However, in
the law, such a thing as “PATTERNS”
are indeed recognized. My entire life is one long freaking pattern of
these things,
whether anyone out here with tremendous power likes this fact or
not!!!!!!!
Now
let us discuss another one of my songs that nobody will be forgetting
any time soon. The title of this song from the year 1980, and of
course is a permanent record of the great mighty LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,
as this was of course Copyright © protected, for all that this is
worth as I came to learn through the damn years. Still, the name of
this song, “LOVE
IS
FOR
CARPENTERS”,
and you know my shortened version title, as it is shown in RED INK
above, LOIS
FOCA.
The lyrics to this song, at the very opening of the damn tune,
discusses “travels through time”. Things like this can get
somebody watched and carefully scrutinized in this world, and
especially in modern day U.S.A. Lifestyle. I was a clueless young
twenty-something who never realized those things back then. Now other
songs and professional artists likewise said things. But they did
very cleverly and left a lot to our level of imaginations. I mean
speaking of those days and times for crissake, was Christopher Cross
just sailing away, or maybe, a bit more than this? One can never
know. But indeed, my mom was correct, I was always just too open, too
blunt, or put without sparing my feelings, too damn stupid to know
that society has rules and regulations, every single society the
world over, and in every time era than humankind walked on the
surface of this planet! How do they say it, Mom is always right?
Well, a lot more than most of us give our moms credit for, aniwho,
BRO! Still, the mighty Trump and his mighty team of pals even in the
eighties, they gather information, they get to know stuff. Someone
who comes right out and says that they travel through time is going
to attract all sorts of attention, and not necessarily the kind that
is desired, not by any means!
But
in the past couple of years after long hard tedious reexamining of
multiple issues and past nightmares and mega-hassles, I as you all
know, have totally switched my opinions and ideas of just who really
those monsters truly were all along in ATLANTIC CITY! Not the Callio
family and Sarah, at least not directly. I say that because I know
for a fact that Sarah Callio and the entire family are indeed great
friends with the entire McGuire clan, and the great and quite intense
and scarey, Mister Robert McGuire of Tennessee Avenue, himself!
Still, I really did have that powerful dreaming experience on the
OFF-RAMP of the world famous ATLANTIC CITY BOARDWALK, but I came to
see that all along, this was not SARAH, but the great and mighty
PAULA KING, and yes, the daughter of the mighty JOHN KING, who for
reasons that I was and still am totally clueless about, insisted huge
hyper-time, that I hosed myself off with a very particular beach hose
right there at Ziggy's Central Pier Jetty, after leaving his parking
lot, one block north of his other lot on Tennessee Avenue. My blogs
as well as tons of mother freaking cassette tapes, go into very
unpleasant and lengthy details concerning all of this very nasty and
outlandish mess! Now I admitted to the entire world that after this
first week of June in 1980 dreaming interaction with this wild crazy
girl or whoever she REALLY IS, I was only able to retrieve
originally, the basic tune or melody, and only a few of the words.
It was me who sort of REVERSE-ENGINEERED the lyrics as though I was
trying to go back into this thing and properly see it from some very
far above point of view. I did write in the fact that I seemed to
have always known this person from boyhood, and yes, I won't freaking
lie about, I thought she was the most beautiful thing I ever saw in
my entire life. She was indeed a giant beauty with very long light
brown hair. Just as the lyrics went, I wrote this, and I meant it.
BUTTTTTTT, the few words that were directly sent to me in this
powerful dreaming experience, I made sure to keep in there. One thing
was right at the end, and it went, “When you get home and see me on
TV, don't pick up the phone, and do not call me”. The other thing
that I remembered was this repeating line of, “Love is for
carpenters”. The rest of it was me trying to figure it all out and
understand it all, and then to try and write it almost from an
observers perspective to the entire thing. It
was not until 27 years in the future, at a security guard job; that I
went back into a very deep trance one early morning, at the
Cifaloglio
place where I was posted, and successfully managed to retrieve the
entire lyrics, that this incredible goddess gave to me in this DREAM;
whoever she really and truly is, or was, or always will be, or
Congressman
Andrews 1975 'WHATEVER',
and write it down, and
later vocally record it on a little Karaoke machine
that I purchased at the K-Mart Plaza in Berlin, New Jersey, at a
Goodwill Store, while on a short shopping road-trip with Eddie
Himacane and Ann
King, the mom of Dawn-Marie King.
King,
King,
King;
how do I escape this snowed-in-KING of a blizzard shivery ice cold
blistery day,
when I walked over to the great Bank
Of New Jersey, in middle January of the year 1978,
while residing in Blackwood, New Jersey, USAESMWG??????????????? Yes
the © Office has the new update version to that 1980 song from the
'OTHER-WORLDS' , oh great PATTY-PAULA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
to slightly traverse another
RED-LINE.
I don't know if this person is being totally truthful with me, and
therefore I can only relay what he said, and not produce proof to the
accuracy of what was told to me. This is a friend of someone who I
recently met while out on errands. He does not owe me anything, and
said he wanted to check it out. When Paula came over in the late part
of June back in 1996, to my apartments at Highview, in Williamstown,
NJUSAESMWG, she drove over in a Chevy Cavalier. It was all shiny and
brand new looking. I was looking out my window and saw this
absolutely unfathomable giant beauty, alight her vehicle, and
approach the main door to a three story six apartment system. It was
right after this that my memories all fade out and it was two hours
later on closer to the time when my mother would arrive home from her
shipping company job. Now this person has told me that PK indeed had
a registered Chevy Cavalier automobile in 1996, a dark colored
vehicle, as I remember it to be before my memories all cut out, you
know, the Julie White Syndrome, only without the long islands or the
school buses that make incredibly wide angle turns up there in
Manhattan! This was all about one month after my Saturn Automobile
had been assaulted over at the psychic shop called, “The Gathering
Place”, in Deptford, New Jersey, and then fifteen minutes or so
later, I ran into teenager Nick Cannon on the Black Horse Pike, and
he told me that my hubcap was all screwed up, when I pulled over to
make a payphone telephone call. This too is on lots and lots of my
older blogs. Of course, this was all also happening in concert with
no puns intended, with that 'time-travel' experience where he took me
back to my high school, the HTHS of Westmont, New Jersey, and was
telling people that I came from the year 1997, and had found myself
back in the year of 1968, and later realized in a major query, why
was I telling these people that I came from the future next year when
it was 1996? This too is on plenty of older blog texts in my
MORIANITY! You know it is funnier than dog ****. The same people that
want all of the world to believe in their flying saucers and little
weird alien people landing here on Planet Earth and interacting, are
the biggest 'laughers' and scoffers of my goddess damn MORIANITY! Go
figure, folks! Spellchecker informs me that I've freaking coined
another word. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes folks,
why do they expect to be believed and then turn around and treat me
like dog puke? Mortimer Mortino the death-angel is striking me,
passing by my left side at 4:25 Ante' Meridian. WOW THAT ONE!
You
know we could take the simplest and most relatively recent
experiences that I have had right here in Florida, nothing past a
decade back into time, and see some mind bending truths that indeed,
totally all connect up with this Atlantic City bull ****, and these
monster people up there! When I was employed up at 25th
Street and ML KING BLVD, yes, I said the word again, KING; working at
the place that then was called the Harvest Food Outreach Center and
now is called United Against Poverty (UP) for short, I had people for
no reason at all, come around and harass me, thinking it was funnier
than goddess damn pig crap. Many of them would call me 'mahm' when
obviously I do not have a feminine appearing face, and many would
start nasty rumors about me, and still others such as that day in the
computer class, and yes, that too is on my blogs from those days
around 2010; and this dude for no reason at all just began
persecuting the mother ******* **** eating **** out of me. The lady
coworker Sandra Waller told me, “I don't know why he is picking on
you, you've done absolutely nothing to the guy”? Well, I know why
this all happened, and would happen all over again tomorrow with
brand new people in this Shakespearean Play, should I begin working
up there. You all know it too. It is nothing other than HALLS HAWCES
doing this to me. It will never ever stop until my HUNTINGTON
HELLCURSE ends with my physical death. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, in just about
all cases with people on this planet, your
hell is swallowed up by your eventual death.
Mathematics however ponders the great notion and question here that
takes us all just a tad beyond this idea. What
if somebody's freaking HELL is so big, that IT LITERALLY SWALLOWS UP
THEIR DEATH?
Just
exactly what did the great playwright Mister Shakespeare really and
truly know about all life being a mere stage, and we are all merely
the actors/players of the entire larger system where someone or
something is operating some great inconceivable cosmic entertainment
show of a sort? I did not make this up, this is not some concept of
MOUNTAINPEN and his MORIANITY!
My
miserable scum bag upstairs neighbor hammers every single goddamn
day. This bitch wakes me up every stinking rotten day with this
monkey snot hammering. Her entire mother ******* apartment must look
like one big bunch of Swiss Cheese walls!
So
exactly what is going on with Patty and Paula and Melanie, and those
great digits of '1-8-0' and then extending this just a bit further
and in any boxed-lottery order, making those two powerful numbers of
1802 and 1980, you ask me? Well first off, when we remove the damn
'1', the '8', and the '0', from both 1802, and 1980; we
are left with those two digits of '2', and '9'.
Combining these two digits in the only two possible ways that can be
arranged, we
get the numbers of 29 and 92.
We have discussed this. Let me take it a wee bit further now on this
blog. All of the people who have turned my life into a never ending
living nightmare hell, are not totally responsible. They become
indwell'd and used by the
WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES, OR
BETTER SAID, THOSE LOVELY ******* HALLS-FAWCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyone
who ever studied basic religions and basic Christianity and its
teachings, knows how our Lord Jesus Christ commanded the 'demons' to
leave the 'possessed' person, whom when this was indeed accomplished,
seemed to be totally fine, but these forces or 'demons' had to go
somewhere, and so Christ commanded them to go out of the person, and
then they went into a herd of pigs. After this happened, the pigs
went ape-crap and dashed wildly and madly into the sea. It is right
there in any King James Holy Bible, for anyone out here to open up to
the four Gospels, and read it for yourselves! Morianity believes
these things 100%+. However, Morianity also knows that in those days,
our Lord, or really the Almighty who jacked into this reality in the
same way that in the movie called, “Lawnmower Man 2”, those kids
jacked into that videogame and began interacting in the game. Now I
discussed my daughter PEE from a parallel universe, who when Paula
did not miscarry the child in that universe, was born on the 29th
day of March in the year of 1997. I will never forget her coming to
1802 Robin Hill Apartments in that powerful wild dreaming experience,
and telling me how she miscarried the child. But then there is
another parallel where she never came over to tell me that, and I
found her to be residing at the Harborfields Juvenile Detention
Center of Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. She was an
incredible computer genius and she had invented the travel-tower.
This is connected to a computer system, and then things are
data-transfered into zeros and ones, and sent to another computer
over the internet, and then turned back into what they originally
were, by way of some incredible three dimensional laser system. She
had been contacted by the great E-BAY people and they were consorting
with her even though she was only about ten years old. I was having
those incredible 'dreams' back in the year 2007. I had no clue about
lots and lots of things in 2007. I was destined to put a whole damn
lot of **** together as more time continued to pass.
The
old joke goes, “What does a sperm cell and a lawyer have in
common”? They both have a million to one chance of becoming a human
being. Well then, what is the damn difference between a throat
specialist in Northeast Philadelphia, over near Grant Avenue and
Interstate 95, and a Cherry Hill endocrinologist one year later?
Well folks, the answer to that one is that only the great president
of our country knows the punchline to that one. Well, and maybe the
great Macy crew also!
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
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