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68 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS''
CONTINUING CHAPTERS
IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
MAGNESONIC,
OPEN COMMAND, G-7.
WHOEVER
IS SCREWING UP MY ENTIRE LIFE AND PERSECUTING ME TO MY GRAVE, WITH
NUMEROUS TYPES OF ASSAULTS, IS TO BE SCANNED
FOR TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT, SINGE DESTRUCT, TOTAL DESTRUCT,
DESTRUCT; ON ALL GENERAL AND ALL CODED GENERAL
ORDERS. USE BOTH 'AD' AND 'ZD' TECHNOLOGIES. MAGNESONIC, ON AN
'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, YOU WILL
NOW HAVE YOUR 1983 AT&T OLD STYLE PHONE-TONES DATA TRANSFERRED,
INTO LONG-EEEEE VOWEL-SOUND PRINT, WITH
THE RED PRINT FOR THE 'A'
TONE, AND THE BLUE PRINT FOR THE
'B' TONE.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, UNDER SPECIAL ORDER 18, AND
STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SHERIFF
MASCARA SIR, I
AM UNDER A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE
THIS CUNT CHEWING MOUUUUUUUURNING, ON 18 NOVEMBER, 2018, SIR, AND MY
KIND FRIEND. MY MOUSE AND COMPUTER ARE
ALL HACKED UP, AND I HAVE HAD MY MOTHER FUCKING ELECTRICAL POWER TO
MY APARTMENT CUT TWICE NOW IN A 24 HOUR PERIOD,
SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These cunt huffing filthy bastard
enemies won't let me EVER get more than two days of rest bit from
their death fucking cunt persecution of me, and this has gone on
basically ALL COCK SUCKING YEAR NOW. I
don't buy into coincidences, so hopefully Mister Mueller will also be
very careful and keep his back to the front lines.
Just exactly why these sieges this year are so horrible, all I can
guess is that it is very bad on every
MIDTERM ELECTION FUCKING FOURTH YEAR,
as 2014 was
hell, as was 2010,
2006, and
2002, and
if I go back to 1998;
don't even get me mother fucking cunt
eating started there, Mizz
Eckert!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had a feeling that I would take some major shit, Sheriff Mascara and
Mister Mueller, kind sirs; since the night before last, I
had MAJOR INTERACTIONS WITH THOSE SAME PROFESSOR UNDERLINGS AT THE
ASTRAL PLANE TECK BAY MYSTERY SCHOOL OF PROVINCE OLYMPIA. It
was an incredible mother fucking experience, kind sirs. I would not
have the necessary fucking cunt time to blog it all, but I was in yet
another part of this major gargantuan campus, and at first I was
having fun there and learning lots of cool stuff. But then a bully
came into the interaction and began tormenting me something fucking
ass fierce. Every time I attempted to leave by foot, or began driving
away on huge weird curved driveways, he would paste in some totally
new hallway or driveway, and made me keep coming right back to where
I originally was trying to get away from. It was what you might call
that quintessential fucking cunt nightmare, only on total fucking ass
steroids!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
parts where I was learning all sorts of cool shit were absolutely
wild and beyond fascinating. Diana Ross was there and told me that
there was nothing I could do any more than her son in can do, against
the evils of Trump
and Scott,
and Bondi,
or as I call them, “The team from
HELL”. You just watch, that bastard Trump will be
appointing his little blond flusie to be the United States Attorney
General, and with this team from hell, Mister Mueller may end up in
more mortal danger than my wonderful Sheriff, and NO
SIR SHERIFF, forgive me but I don't buy
what that fucking evil dirt bag gang just pulled, A
COINCIDENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My
roaches are horrendous, and so are my mother fucking rotten
neighbors. For three days now, my TRIAD'S have been really
annoying the living fucking hot shit out of me. As stated, this
assault on me is very off the dial and very off the wall, and has
been all goddamn cunt lapping year long now!!!!!!!
As
for some of the wild shit that I picked up at the Astral
Plane Teck Bay Mystery School;
they had me in some kind of a 'vari-vehicle'.
It could go from one kind of a vehicle to another, at
the flick of a switch. I was suddenly at
the Callio Drawbridge, where on the mortal world, it is
the drawbridge on the Black Horse Pike, right after driving out of
Atlantic City, and into the Chelsea Heights section of Western
Atlantic City. Suddenly a gigantic magnatar
flashed in front of me, along with an
entirely new grouping of stars. Then to my right, in the
darkness; a large grouping of lightning flashes
all appeared. Then those same Underling-Professors were in my
back seat, and they were not there before the incredible brilliant
magnatar flash. By the way, Spellchecker does not have that word in
their dictionary, I assume I am spelling it correctly. Ask any good
university's Science Department to confirm what a magnatar is, and
don't think I am making anything up. The few times since this
happened, that I have talked about it on the phone, I have been
punished with harassment and persecution by HALLS
FAWCES and the TEAM FROM HELL,
or maybe said better, my OTHER
Triad problem!
Pasting and splicing reality all around seems to be a very easy trick
for these Teck Bay Astral-Academicians. This is because they know
lots of things that are quite basic as far as how to apply some light
technology to these truths, to bring about these amazing effects and
'tricks of epitomized wizardry'. I told you before that quite a few
years back, these same weird dudes along with some of their
associates, were with me, and they informed me, that
reality, and all that we human beings interact with while awake and
conscious, is nothing more than virtually infinite amounts of photons
being created by the same nuclear reality of the magical Tesla number
of THREE. Two parent electrons
where one of them imparts to the other some information, then goes
onto create one photon. This is done
more times than a billion computers could ever count, and all
inside a nano-second of time. This
creates our entire reality. Splicing and editing and
rearranging it, is child's play, once we come to understand this
truth more completely; and then simply apply the very same
principles that we do now, in our present ways in which we edit and
splice and rearrange our analogue and digital recordings. But why do
these Teck Bay Academicians keep grabbing my spirit up when I fall
asleep, and continue to tell me and show me, all of these mother
fucking inconceivable things? Maybe to anger the Project
Bluebook boys, or the HALLS FAWCES
themselves, along with the other triad gang
from fucking hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is 7:55 in the mother fucking cunt huffing morning now, Mister
Mueller, and Sheriff Mascara. It is 11/18/2018.
2018 has been the worst mother fucking year for me since 2016, and we
all understand why, and we all understand by now, Mountainpen's
claims of PARALLEL EVENT, and how this unholy fucking dogshit evil
technology is being applied and illegally used covertly and
stealthfully against me, and HAS BEEN NOW FOR ABOUT THREE AND A HALF
MOTHER FUCKING DECADES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Joy, joy, joy,
and boy oh boy oh boy. Yes sir/mahm, it's totally mother fucking okay
to steal everything from me, my tunes, my words, my ideas, my
inventions, my very thoughts, and then hide jokingly and cleverly
under the guise of there mother the car! Wow Margie Leo from
November-1985, gimme' a goddamn mother fucking bwake, willya, YO?
'BE
CAREFUL',
PAULA KING & ROBERT MCGUIRE, YO. Maybe Regis and I are watching
you when you least damn ass expect it. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
Sheriff sir, my life is beyond total toast.
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.
Y
RUSSIA Y, AND Y JIMMY Y ALSO, FROM 1984?
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PASTED IN GOOGLE RESULTS----Global Audience By Shade Ratio:
I
was not asleep at Cifaloglio, when that mind bending chopper on
steroids, flew over, and almost landed in the property's parking
area.
Good
old Hydroglacia. She
is a very beautiful star.
A real star too, not some man-made celeb! So WOW all of that, great
Joann
and Joanna.
My kid thinks so much of this is a laugh a minute. Hey, if it makes
her happy, I
say that whatever gets her, or anyone else for that matter through
the damn long nights; is fine by me!
Yes
Almighty Nuclatron (GOD),
we know what the real deal is around here. I merely have the damn
mother ******* testicles to say stuff, BRO! Then
it turned back into the Pulsar Star,
and it rose higher and higher into the early morning sky. And then
states away, and a decade ahead in time; the fireworks never came
down on the fifth shoot up, over the lake outside of Mike Patterson's
apartment, down in Hollywood, Florida. Then
there it was, just there, the great Pulsar Star, or as I call her,
Hydroglacia!!!!!!!!!
MY BLOGS TOLD ALL OF THIS POWERFUL TRUTH LONG
BEFORE IT EVEN GOT THE SMALLEST START
IN SPACE-TIME-MIND, and
the goddamn RUSSIA FOLKS know this to be 100% the truth.
THAT,
SIR ROCKDROID ROTTENBERRY, is why
they have been reading these blogs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
know that Cooley Hall, just like dozens and dozens of other things;
were all brought here by
the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND
SOCIETY.
They came here and they goddamn accomplished what their purpose was
all about, and
then POOF;
they
vanished,
and nobody is ever the mother fucking wiser.
Many
things in this life work that way totally automatically.
If you ain't looking for something, you'll pass right by that old
cardboard box filled with gold, or step right onto that log that's
filled with rattlesnakes. In
1969, Mister Ziggy Malyeska said it so fucking goddamn perfectly:
“That's the way it goes”!
It sure mother fucking is, old pal! All I'm fucking saying here folks
is that I was the reason for many of these things that all happened
around me, egotistical as any of you may think that this statement
makes me. It is not ego saying these things. I am not proud or
boastful in any small way to be a part of such a vicious nightmare
hell, and so let me ask any one of you reading this shit; would
you be????????????????????????
Somebody
very soon is going to be super super fucking sorry for these attacks
on innocent
poor little MOUNTAINPEN!!!
Hey
if my cycle thing is a made up lie or some psych delusion, how did I
know in 1968 about Watergate Day, AKA June 17th of 1972?
How did I know about spies and all the nasty junk, secret codes, the
whole damn nine yards of today's screwed up computers and social
media? Allow me to explain this. My unconscious truer self never
forgets all of this dirty rotten **** eating mess; each time I am
back as a youth again. It is like a powerful lucid dream that stays
with you for an entire lifetime. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, literally,
yes I'm saying this to you boy. Well, I told
the great musical arranger, Mister Tom Glenn, that I always
wanted a female vocalist to do that song
that I had written back in 1969, called “Burn
With Fire”. He for some HALLS-FAWCES stupid-ass reason didn't
believe me. The way that he looked at me that day, over at my
place, at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments;
oh yes, I could tell!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well,
speak of not being believed, I've not even started on this doozie of
a blog, kind folks, YO!!!!!! Well, now I'll do a little TELLING,
BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
I
discussed very briefly, the topic of the multiplex
of groupings or factions if you will, that the ESS
is comprised of. Yes, let us all explore this a bit
further now since they endlessly want to wipe me out and persecute my
entire mother ******* **** huffing damn ass life, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These prick eating toilet germs do not like
what I'm about to do and say on this SMD (Social-Media
Device)!!!!!!!!!! WOW THIS, Joanna-a! Me whittle mouse is weelwee
efed up, YO!!!
Back
shortly into my miserable stay here in Florida, that now is just
under nine years long,
YO; and NOT 'LING'
or 'LANG',
all damn Patty's everywhere, married to great Philadelphia
Airline Pilots, YO;
I began talking about this multi-factional group of monsters, you
know; the
different parts and pieces to these wild spirit-travelers who control
our DREAM-WORLDS and all of us in major beyond covert ways, the GAP
(EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY)
as Morianity
has given this name to these
twat sniffing monsters!!!!!!!!!!
Yes sir/mahm; this is not one tiny teensy whittle bit in my ****
licking imagination. Let's get into the meat and the heart of the
issue now, since these enemies won't ever quit ******* picking on me,
and thus, I need to IMMEDIATELY RONALD REAGAN
COUNTER-ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Boy oh boy oh boy, Mister Tom
Music-daddy Glenn!!!!!!!!!!!!
To
name the majority of categories that we can place this powerful super
covert group of beyond stealthy spirit or dream travelers, we would
make our outline about like this.
1)
Education and educators.
2)
Investment houses, brokers, Wall Street.
3)
Electronics and repair shops of electronics
4)
Entertainment and basic all around MIND-CONTROL.
5)
Religions/cults/ MIND-CONTROLLING and manipulating
sociological orders and systems.
6)
Media connection systems, broadcasters, MIND-CONTROL
industries in general. Cable and digital radio and television
services, net providers and carriers, phone service carriers
and providers, and along these lines,
Space
research, satellites and all connected systems and industries,
government intelligence services, armed and non-armed forces and
agencies, and along all of these lines as well.
7)
Medical industry, especially labs and high-tech stuff pertaining to
research.
Now
as you can see, hopefully folks, this is why I chose not to get more
into all of this bull****, back earlier in this second decade of this
21st century, when I was new to Fort Pierce, and Saint
Lucie County, and Florida-U. S. A. im damn general, YO! This is not
some easy thing to be tackled in one or even a hundred and one mother
******* blogs!!!!
If
I try to tell this story too simply, I get scoffed at and jeered,
even to the point of folks like Mister
Know-It-All-Pedersen, calling me 'very
immature'. Well kind sir, you and Patricia
Hollister, YO. So WEEEEEEEEE!
But should I try to get real complex with all of this, I am called
boring, and told to break up my giant walls of text with photos and
pretty colored paragraphs and squiggly lines and other computer
office program basic and general damn crap! So as you know folks, I
really cannot win, BUTTTTTTT, I'll choose to go at this lightly,
and not get all hyper-technical, and elaborate with thousands of
fancy college words that don't really efen say a damn thing! I am
going to discuss the Educational-Faction
of this Spirit-Traveling Ultra-Covert Society, and then I'll also
tackle a wee little bit of horse dung concerning the Electronic
Faction, as I can really and truly make these things all
fit together in some really wild and weird ways that truly will efen
BLOW ALL OF YOUR MINDS, YO
BRAH!!!
I
already have gone into the things, that now will be taken a bit
further, with quite a bit more elucidated details. It was in 1984,
and I had recently been struck down in the prime of my mother *******
turd swallowing life, with some powerful
mystery illness. But without tying in Faction #7, the medical group
of them, oh wonderful and Trump-Marvelous “let's not lose
our damn jobs” here, not over worthless
little Mountainpen; Great and
Powerful (GAP) NON-OZ United States ©
Office, I indeed am unable to
make all of the wild dots connect up right now tonight on this blog,
or we'd be all goddamn night and well into tomorrow night. THAT,
I PROMISE YOU, WOMO/MO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes
folks, I took sick, out of the blue, at 10:30 at night, on the 4th
of June, of 1983; while renting a nice home at 134 Norris Avenue, in
Atco, New Jersey, USAESMWG. This much does need to be said
before I go on with tonight's horrendous mother efen tale of damn ass
woe, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had recently returned from a trip down
to Orlando, Florida, USAESMWG, to visit the
ex-Chief Recording Engineer of the RPL Sound Studio Labs, at 1558
Pierce Avenue and 1100 State Street intersection, in the
somewhat Abdul scam (ABSCAM) globally world renown Camden, New
Jersey. Do not confuse this with Mister low-voiced UMB-SCUMB, at
Cifaloglio, PWEEEEEEEEEEEEZE!!!!
So
I had returned from Orlando on the damn Amtrak
Train, and Mister Jim Tiberius Burr, from the great PCI
Computer school, where we had met back in the early summer time of
1973, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG; had picked me up
at the Thirtieth Street Train Station of
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He then proceeded to drive me back
to my apartment at 506 Robin Hill,
the second of my three stays at the now thankx2-Mountainpen, somewhat
famous ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS OF VOORHEES TOWNSHIP,
NJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The reason
that I lay down lots of foundational ground-work with all of my
nightmare true tales of woe, is so that at later times, all my
damn **** can be fully and thoroughly scrutinized by (hopefully)
eventually, some honest caring United States Federal Agents, that are
not a part of this monstrous and evil EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY. So bare with me as I seem to bear down
so hard with these same boring details. Nobody you see, could make up
something this wild and powerful. Nobody would be able to remember
this many mother ******* untruths and bold faced lies. So I do this,
and you'll just have to try to wrestle through the tedious and I
suppose the often quite unpleasant process of reading and reading
dates and times and addresses, and etcetera,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So after Jim drove down the 295 highway
after crossing over the great Walt Whitman Bridge and leaving
Philadelphia; the first thing that I remember doing after unpacking a
suitcase of a weeks worth of travel, and before Jim burr left the
apartment, was getting into another famous fight with good old MOM.
One thing led to another, and the topic of Howard down in Orlando
came up, and this was NOT A pleasant trip or a pleasant situation,
not by any means at all!!!!!!!!!! BUTTTTTTTTT, a coworker of my good
old mother, a lady by the name of Mizz Jane Davis, and a personal
friend that she had who didn't work for the 'then Lavino Shipping
Company', now called Inchcape; and whose name was Shirley Alv, wanted
to meet me the following evening to discuss my weird medical problem
that attacked me out of nowhere, back early in the previous June, as
this was now two days shy of Christmas Day in the year of 1983. Mom
told me that she also has gone and was currently a patient of a
throat specialist doctor, just around the corner from her friend
Jane. I had not yet gone to this doctor, OR DID I? I have memories of
two different time-lines as “STAR TREK, The Next Generation”
calls this anomaly of altering events that happen through a line of
time, by traveling back from some point ahead, and making some kind
of a change. Well, this is major complex, and I totally believe that
none of the greatest minds of this century, not as yet anyway, fully
understand some stuff the way that I do, because
of the simple fact that I have personally experienced some beyond
outlandish bull**** involving these damn things, and as a result of
directly interacting with what else, but the great and powerful
non-Oz, non-(C) Office, ESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But saying a whole
lot more right now would also require me to go
on about ten thousand words at a minimum, or nothing
that I do plan to say on this blog would make sense, because it
would all become so confusing. We all have heard that great
and somewhat magical saying that “a little
knowledge can be far worse THAN NO KNOWLEDGE AT ALL”.
My
mother and I, and not the KING,
well, not yet anyway, back when we lived in Atco, and were
renting the home owned by the owner of the Jackson Road L&S
Nursing Home, a Mister Jerry Pliner; from February 1, 1983, through
the middle of October of 1983, on Norris Avenue; would meet after my
Mom and her coworker, Mizz Jane Davis,
got off work, and we all would meet up at a Mount Laurel, New Jersey,
USAESMWG, bus terminal, and take casino tour bus rides, down to the
Atlantic City casinos. Originally, one time,
her friend Shirley Alv was with them, and I got talking to her about
the game of roulette, and about many wild strategies that my pal Jim
Burr and myself, had been fooling with, to try and defeat the legally
built in negative advantage, or 'VIG' that is built into this game.
I was telling her how cycles were behind all things in the entire
universe. I was even able to demonstrate how this worked, in a
non-roulette situation, when we went into one of the cafeteria areas
of the particular casino that our tour bus had taken all of us to. I
will not bore any of you with specifics; even though they do indeed
pertain to many powerful things, since time, and your attention as my
Blogaudians, just won't permit this; not right now on this blog. But
I do need to say this: Shirley almost
crapped in her dress, when I showed
her this wild thing. She then told me that it explains some big ****
in her personal life, in ways that
nothing else ever have or ever could. This is not an
absolute quote, but it is a paraphrase, and folks, I promise you
that!!!!!!!!!!! She told me that once she had a very weird television
set. Right away as she started to tell this to
me, I began thinking to myself, oh boy, this is sounding a little bit
like that “Twilight Zone”
sixties B&W Television show, of course all I ever knew
until a couple of years ago, due to extreme poverty all of my damn
life, was indeed B&W-TV. But that episode where the man murders
his wife, and the TV show on CHANNEL-10 up in New York City, as they
don't get a channel 10 or not in the sixties they didn't, but this
channel was showing this man, events that had not yet occurred. Each
time he would see things on his TV-set, a short time later, he
actually was engaging in these things with his wife, in his New York
City apartment, where they were living. That gorgeous actress played
an older woman, I cannot remember her name, but she was to quote my
mom, “old Hollywood”, and I've picked up this expression myself.
Now this strange TV-Repairman had just repaired this taxi-driver
guy's TV-set. He wasn't happy with the service or the price, and he
gave this repair dude a real earful. This magic little fellow winked
at him and said something, I don't remember it now verbatim. So this
repair guy somehow did this magic trick to his television set. It
really was, as just about all of those great Rod Serling TTZ shows
are, really fantastic. Still, I remember as Shirley was rattling on
with her personal experience with this TV set of hers, and
'her-TV-repairman-experience', that this is right out of that 'TTZ'
television show. Only as she progressed along with her story, and we
were munching on a candy bar or some similar such item, in this
casino lounge and eats area; the story shifted
quite rapidly and took a beyond TWILIGHT ZONE TURN, into what I might
only now be able to attempt to describe as THE TWILIGHT ZONE ON
STEROIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As I stated twice now, I promise that
I'll be way more detailed on future blogs, as to why this television
set, her repairman, and my medical condition of June the 4th
back in the prior year of 1983, all ties together in super connected
powerful red dots, and in fact, it WILL most likely, cross me way
over that DO NOT RED LINE, that you all know quite well, I need to
endlessly be concerned with, YO!!!
It
was several months later, and one week after my trip with the
(one-way only memory), to the great Throat-Dock. It was early spring
somewhere, in 1984, and I was about three months away from moving out
of 506 Robin Hill Apartments, and into 1406 Highland Avenue, in
Cinnaminson, New Jersey, to a rental home that was owned by the
family next to it at, 1408, a Mister Lowell Patterson; back in middle
July of 1984. This is where I was to reside until April the 1st
back in 1985, when I moved for the first of two stays that were
roughly a decade apart; into Williamstown, New
Jersey, to an apartment called the Highview Apartments, on
Sicklerville Road and Kent Road Intersection! I will quickly
open with the super part of coworker Shirley's wild tale, as it
connects with me, and it WILL blow your minds,
so beware, all Joe Paget's out here! She loved her TV like a
pet cat or dog, because it was given to her for a birthday present on
her thirty-fifth birthday. Within a year of this gift being given,
her husband whom she loved and adored like a TV-romance on a soap,
and no TV-PUN was intended here folks, but her hubby was diagnosed
with a very aggressive form of gut cancer, and he died very shortly
after being diagnosed, and all of this was quite devastating to her.
But she had few things around her Philadelphia home that were
special, and that reminded her of her man. This television set WAS
ONE OF THOSE FEW ITEMS. To hear her tell it, she had a little bit of
jewelry and a watch, and a couple pieces of clothes, AND THIS TV SET!
Well, as if bull**** doesn't strike all of us, I suppose, in one way
or another; her set broke. She went to turn it on, and it was silent
and dark. No picture, no sound,and to quote the great recording
artist of all times, from Motown, Mizz Diana
Ross, born Diane Ross, in the Brewster Projects of
Detroit, Michigan, USAESMWG, when she called me, and hollered this
over my phone, “I DON'T NEED THIS, NO HOW, NO
NOTHING”!!!!!!!!!!! So the very same day that this happened,
as she told me it was on a Saturday, and in Northeast Philly back in
the early nineteen-eighties, her neighborhood repair shops and many
many places, all were open for business all day long, on Saturdays!
She was quite emphatic when she told me this, and I still remember
this very clearly and can see the expression on her face, right
inside my mind as I sit in here pounding on my little black keyboard
keys, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her neighbor was a big burly dude who lived
downstairs in her two unit apartment system and he helped her take
this TV-set in his truck. Over to a repair shop a couple of blocks
away. For three solid months, these repair people messed with her.
They never fixed the set. They kept it at their shop all taken apart.
They kept telling her that it would be done tomorrow or next week, or
the next, or the next, and this went on and on and on! Finally after
three solid months, she and her downstairs nabe went over to the
shop. They had put the set back together as if they somehow knew she
was coming over. They told her to just take it and there was no
charge. She asked why they had done this to her, and this nabe who
was with her witnessed it, she said to me, in that casino eats-area.
I will never stop seeing this crazy and upset expression that came
over her as she told me this tale of total horror. After she stood
there with this nabe dude for maybe five minutes, asking why-why-why
won't you fix my damn set, the owner walked into the shop and had
been out on a repair call. His exact words to her were, “We think
that you're the devil. Please take this set and get out of this
shop”. Now you ain't heard dog squat squared yet folks. It was
about two months after this event all went down, since she told me
that this final thing that had happened in the repair shop was last
week, so I am just adding in the time from there. So it is about a
month now, before I moved out of there, and into the home on Highland
Avenue, in Cinnaminson. Not only during that time, did I have a very
similar experience with a repair shop where I had been forced to
leave my automobile since it was a Texaco right there near to where
it had broken down and overheated, and for a solid month, I too was
getting this same treatment, and even worse things happened
eventually, that I won't get into right now. After I resolved this
nightmare with my car, that was a total freaking carbon copy of
Shirley Alva's TV nightmare hell, my damn TV set began to get snowy,
and then no picture. I did have sound, unlike Shirley's problem, but
who cares about sound? TV is about a picture! I moved into the home
and had maybe three weeks before this happened. I took my TV to a
place in Haddon Heights, New Jersey, USAESMWG, right near where my
old pal who sang on my two country demo-tunes grew up, Bob Andrews,
who became a United States Congressman. The name of this nightmare
hellhole TV-Repair place was the A&B TV-REPAIR, on Station
Avenue. These **** sucking bastards did to me, the very precise and
exact thing that was done to Shirley Alv. This went on for maybe six
to eight weeks. Finally, I drove over to the place, as I wasn't in a
big hurry, since my landlord, mister Lowell Patterson, allowed me to
use a spare TV set that belonged to his daughter Laura, who was back
in College, and was only home during the summer time. It wasn't a
great set by any means, but I had TV. So after six to eight weeks
somewhere, I drove over to this total jerk off A&B Repair Shop.
They said to me, “Take your TV set, no
charge. We think you're the devil
and we don't want you in here”! I
mother ******* thought that I literally was going to take a **** in
my pants, and then turn around and eat it! There is no
possible way that all of this could have happened, outside the truth
of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!!!!
But
you STILL AIN'T HEARD DOG**** YET, my peeps; so take a
chapter out of that CAT-RADIO playbook, up there in Jersey, near the
damn SHORE MALL; and “GRAB YOUR TAIL, AND
HOLD ON”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I mean it, if you're not
ready for a real shocker body slam that will send you flying to the
efen floor unless you're absolutely soulless, STOP READING THIS BLOG,
at least until you freaking get yourself a damn coffee break or
something, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After
I lived down here in Fort Pierce, Florida for about three years;
I had several old VCR machines that I purchased
for about twelve bucks each, at my local Goodwill Store, at
the Virginia Avenue Shopping Mall, about a mile to my south, along
Federal Highway US-1, where the Publix Grocery
Store also is, and I do my food shopping, or about 90+% of it.
As time went by, to quote the very old song now, one by one, these
machines became defective. Two local county electronic repair shops
were recommended to me, by folks that I knew in various circles that
I now move in, such as medical, or social services, as an older
United States Senior Citizen, who now will be turning age 64 years on
the fourth of December, three months away now. I ain't no damn ass
spring chicken, kind folks, YO YO YO YO YO! I will not bore you with
the damn details, but taking memory to Shirley's story, and mine from
just a short time afterward, here is the abridged and compressed
version. In the years of 2014, 2015, and 2016, the repair shop down
on Route 1 (Federal Highway US-1), in Port Saint Lucie at the mall
down there, about five miles or maybe a wee bit more to my south, the
dude who owned the place did the very same thing, and eventually when
I showed up at his place, he told me that I was some evil person, and
why would I bring him a machine that I obviously poured oil inside of
it all over the damn place? I never did any such thing, and he
charged me money, and screwed me, Sheriff Mascara. But the other
place was far worse. They did much worse to me. They ruined two
great machines that I took over, and continued to put me off for
months, and when I went over, they tried to charge me, and then just
ripped off the machines. This horrible place, you most likely know
of, Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, kind sir, the
Sizemore Repair place, on Delaware Avenue, just a quarter
mile down the road from my Public freaking Housing Building, YO sir.
I'll be telling you all of this in person NEXT
WEEK AT YOUR MIDWAY ROAD office, KIND SHERIFF, SIR, YO YO YO!
Then
what Larry ASSWIPE Lee, my Insurance Agent,
did to me,
over at the goddamn State Farm
OFFICE, when I've been nothing but a totally law-abiding
citizen, and faithful freaking customer of State Farm, and handing
them about eight thousand bucks with my premiums, since arriving down
here in your lovely lovely county, KIND SIR, SHERIFF!!!!! YESSIR KIND
SHERIFF, we need to have a real serious talk about what these
“people”, the Exploratronic
Supermind society, is DOING TO ME. THEY'RE
******* TOTALLY KILLING ME, KIND SHERIFF, SIR! DON'T YOU
GODDAMN CARE AT ALL, YO YO YO YO YO YO????????? That mother *******
secretary who sits at the desk, and you can goddamn lie detector me
anytime you want to Sheriff sir, she told me back last summer, “Larry
was up there with Rick Scott, you know the powerful people”, and
then she half winked at me, and I
could absolutely see it in her eyes, as she WANTED TO
TELL ME MORE, BUT SHE COULD NOT, KIND SIR, KJM! Are you ONE OF THEM
TOO, SIR??????????????? But there still is tons and tons of more and
more **** kind Sheriff, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me now move this out of the Financial Factions
and the Electronic Factions of the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY,
and move into the really big one, the EDUCATIONAL
DAMN FACTION; as this gets more than beyond absurdly
serious, Sheriff Mascara, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A powerful special
DEAL was made with me back when I was in my final days and weeks of
the special-education place where I was attending school, at the
Cooley Hall High Hell, on Hopkins Lane, in world famous Haddonfield,
New Jersey, on the also quite famous KINGS
HIGHWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mother was told that I was being
given a regular HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA from the high school where I
would be attending if not at this special-ed place for exceptional
types of children, provided that I could pass the GED-TEST or
whatever that thing is called that allows those who never graduate a
real high school to obtain what is called a “High School
Equivalency” degree/diploma, whatever the damn thing is called. I
do not know as I do not have one. I HAVE THE REAL MCCOY. I actually
have a High School Diploma from the West Collingswood High School, on
West Collings Avenue, in Collingswood, New Jersey, USAESMWG! I do not
know anybody who was ever ever ever ever ever ever made that deal,
and I am including rock stars, politicians, and many other big time
name-recognized persons, YO. Again Sheriff, come on over and visit
with me anytime, and I will show you my diploma, and I am more than
willing to be hooked up to multiple lie detector tests anywhere and
any time you wish for me to do so!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nothing in this damn Morianity story is fake or false, like our damn
president!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
why did this DEAL get made with me? Well, Sidney Crown knew just a
tiny whittle bit of this super nasty truth regarding all of tis very
ugly mega-mess, and its absolute and filthy rotten connections in and
through the great mighty and powerful or maybe even the all-powerful
“EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY”!!!!!!!!!! And yes, others too
know, and I think now looking back in clearer
hindsight and truer retrospect, even Lenny McKinnon has put those
powerful and deadly dangerous two and twos together, and have spelled
out the name of Richard Lennon Marcucci. Now why these damn
Type-3-Exploratrons want to be doing all of this, well, you're asking
the wrong freaking person here, YO? If I knew, by the gods, I'd tell
you, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pweeeeeeeze believe me kind folks, and Sheriff
KJM kind sir, I haven't even begun, to quote the great and late
recording artist, Mizz Karen Carpenter, telling the real powerful
**** that lays extremely deep underneath all of these horrible creepy
dark corners of HELLFIRE to the damn ninth power,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mister
Marcucci knew all about a daughter that wasn't even BORN YET, Sheriff
Mascara sir. Now let me ask you a question, kind sir! If it was
brought to your attention, that one of the teachers in your county
right now, took a student outside of his classroom, and said the
following thing to him, straight and bold faced, “You know Mark,
you could be a father, chronologically”? I mean let me put it to
you in a slightly revised query, my kind wonderful Sheriff sir? How
in the name of all that is holy and unholy, and in the name of all of
the Astral-Plane Gods and Goddesses, could he have possibly known
about what Patty H did to me a few months earlier, underneath the
Central Pier of Saint James Place, in Atlantic City, unless he is ONE
OF THEM? Being one of them, and for reasons that elude even
wild claim making Mountainpen, WHY start a musical group all the damn
way across the Queens freaking POND, just to come over to my school,
be my teacher for nearly ten months, and then shortly after I tell
Lenny the great 1980 record promoter a little bit about all of this
over my FBI-bugged telephone, at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments; did the
damn powerful other faction of the great demonic ESS and AKA the CIA,
decide to get rid of the poor bastard, SIR????????? WOW THIS, YO!
Boy
oh boy oh boy oh boy. The best that I can ever hope for anymore is
one or maybe that freaking occasional two day period of some relative
peace. It is so damn unfair. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. Boy
oh boy oh boy oh boy. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. Boy oh boy oh boy oh
boy. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy.
Why
did Patricia
Hollister
want me to get my hands on that information, that was in her
possession, and at her work desk at that job, she was working back
then? Why was Misses
Marola at
Cooley Hall, totally hellbent, on my doing that Memorial Day of 1969
school play? These things and zillions more just like them; are
because the ESS wanted
certain things to happen in this exact universe.
They
have all sorts of bases in many parallel worlds, and this is just one
of them.
None of you seem to have a tiny clue what life is like, when
you are living in it,
FIFTH
DIMENSIONALLY.
Words will definitely NOT do it justice, and
that much I can promise.
Still, why? Well, endlessness!!!! Still, why do they do exactly what
they do, or said better, why
did they do all of these exact and precise things to me, Mark
Wayne
Mountainpen
Huntington
Mohr?
The only way to ever really know, is for me to open up a laboratory
eventually, and get transfused once a week with teenaged blood; so
that I can turn my biological clock back,
and have all the time that I need, right
here in this present physical lifetime;
and to get to the mother fucking bottom of these great questions,
spewing right out of the mouth-gates of HELL
ITSELF, AKA DOGTOWN, OLYMPIA.
Let
me offer one huge piece of fucking information for anyone smart
enough to be up here reading these goddamn words, and being able to
at least let some of this damn ass shit sink in. As I speak type, a
MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING RIGHT SIDE DEATH ANGEL ATTACK
IS STRIKING ME AT CUNT CHEWING 8:48
A.M.
This is one of the worst ones in months and months, ya' see peeps;
this all goes and fits together, and tells a larger story. Remember
how I fucking told you all,
that this is designed
directly into the mother fucking LAWTRONIC-CIRCUITRY
of the Purgatory
System?
When enemies are
plotting to hurt or kill you, and you are able to hear this sound
that Weldon Saunders calls “THE DEATH ANGEL”, then that is when
you do!!!!
WOW
was that a major fucking assault,
Sheriff
Mascara sir,
and Mister
FBI-PROBE-MUELLER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If I weren't in such a mother fucking putrid garbage shitty mood
right now; I might just add in, “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MISTER MIKE
1971 MCNULTY,
YO YO YO YO YO”!!!!
That
huge bit of information is about Count Von Mister Marcucci, also of
the great mysterious COOLEY HALL. You all know how my mother and him
absolutely knew shit about what mom's wonderful coworker did to me
underneath the Central Pier on the first week in July of 1969. You
know how my mom would get all pissed off at me in the nineties and
shout at her famous lines of “Mark, How would you like it if your
daughter said or did such and such”, whatever it was that I had
just said or done, that she perceived as such a gigantic fucking
injustice. You know how Count Richard Lennon Voncucci took me out
into the hallway just beyond his classroom in late October of 1969
and told me that “I could be a father, chronologically”. Then a
decade after that, I told record promoter Mister Lenny McKinnon, over
the telephone, that “I would get the Beatles for him if he would
stop upsetting me”. After these things all became history and time
moved forward, first came various punishments for me as well as
others. Lenny did a Sarah, and vanished into the misty mystery
moonlight early in 1981. A year later, Debbie Harry Blondie's pal,
Mizz Trash-bunny moved underneath me, and made me so crazy that I was
forced to move out of 1802 Robin Hill in about a year, and then half
a year after doing that, I was struck down with some unknown and
totally fucking mysterious medical condition, that I still have to
this very mother fucking cock sucking day, YO!!!! Then a couple of
years after that, I ended up in that Permission-Barrier parallel
universe where I
live at the Round house Manor of Egg Harbor, New Jersey;
with Patty,
Merry,
and Pee,
and own a very successful real estate and land management company,
called “STARBURN
OUTREACH DEVELOPMENT, INCORPORATED”,
or SODI
for a shortened abbreviation.
If you
don't think that there
is a story so huge in all of these things,
connecting COOLEY
HALL, THE
WATERGATE
BREAK-IN, and so
much more; well then,
you really are absolutely
and quintessentially naïve;
me kind
folks!!!!!!!!!!!!
There is no way that time will allow me to even open it all up right
now, but know this folks, IT'S FUCKING CUNT COMING, AND IT'S COMING
BIG HYPER-TIME, YO YO YO YO YO!
What
you need to be started with, before MORIANITY can ever even begin
going successfully into its 2.0 parts, so to speak; is lots and lots
of continuing rote-foundation, into the characters involved, and how
much power they now all have in this world, and just how powerless
and defenseless I am on top of that, as well as understand some of
the possible and potential reasoning behind it all, and even if it is
not reason or logic the way we human beings would perceive those
words, it does indeed make total and perfect sense to
the PURGATITES
who are carrying this all out on the waking human plane of existence,
through and by way of (via) the great, powerful, terrifying, and
awesome, EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!
Oh
yes, Mizz Baseball Park Jane Notfondau,
HA-HA-HA;
YOU
MISSED ME,
MISS WATER WITCH-BITCH, PRICK ASS JANE
SLEAZE-WEEDS-DISEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 75 DEGREES FNHT,
HUMIDITY
98%.
Oh
yes, my ass hole nabes above me, are always annoying me, back on the
date above, as well as right in the here and now of today's fucking
whittle bwog, YO!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Well,
moving up to more present times all though events, and my endless
freaking persecution, never ever halts, as you all know quite damn
well:
Harassing
illegal scamming telephone calls are constant;
if you are remotely interested in my woes; FBI, and UNITED STATES
ATTORNEY GENERAL, and State AG. Also, my harassment with utilities,
electric and phone is off the dial, and has been again for some time;
FEDERAL
BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION!
Boy
oh boy could I use some goddamn assistance with all of this, kind
Sheriff KJM, sir. This
is highly illegal,
and as you and all other LEO's all know, it is very damn difficult to
prove!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well sir, as stated, my *****-COMMAND is way
up during these major sieges without back-off, so all I need to do is
one day, is to begin taking mother ******* advantage of this, and
then KAPLOOEY; the stock market goes straight into the goddamn
toilet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOW
FOLKS, ARE THESE GODDAMN MOTHER ******* RUSSIAN, OR WHOEVER HACKERS,
OF THE STACEY
LATTISAW
JACK
HACK
ATTACK,
really at it with me, moving makes and turning tapes, or whatever
that was all about in the early nineteen-eighties, YO!!!!!!! Oh yes
my kind people; parallel event and applying it, (using it mother
******* illegally against someone who is totally incapable of
fighting back on their billionaire level; is TOTALLY
CRIMINAL, and it deserves the DEATH PENALTY!
Let me tell you lovely nineties babe GINA, that yes, I BELIEVE I
TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU,
AND YES SWEETIE PIE; THE DJIA
STOCK MARKET WILL
JUST KEEP RIGHT ON GOING
MOTHER ******* ENDLESSLY UP-UP-UP-UP
UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP UP!!!!!!!!!
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDAJUNE 19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
JUNE
19, 2014,
THURSDAY
EVENING AT 10:25,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
Oh
yes great mighty powerful wonderful TD Ameritrade and TD Bank, and my
old pal and pathetic victim of Mizz Paula
King,
by the name of Mister Regis
Philbin;
and
REMEMBER
THIS 'PASTE-IN', KIND FOLKS OUT HERE???
BY
JUNE IT WILL BE 18,000. BY END OF SUMMER, 20,000, AND BY END OF 2014,
IT WILL BE 25,000 POINTS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. And then by 2019 it
will be 28,000, and by 2020 it will be between 40 and 50 thousand
mother ******* crooked cheated Bohemian parallel-event-APE-points!
So
I was off by a mere couple of years!
TOLD
YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, LOVELY GORGEOUS GINA MY QUEENA,
YO!!!!!
Actually,
Gina was a brunet. Still, Lenny;
SPEAKING
OF BEAUTIFUL BLONDS;
THANK
YOU beautiful LIGHTNING,
for coming around and visiting your little boy so very often this
summer of 2018. You were all around me when you saw all the hell that
I was going through, at the hands of this evil wicked demonic satanic
diabolical WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE.
You are so
BEYOND
RED
WILD
HOT,
DIANA
ARTEEMIS, MY ENDLESS 1-2-3 LOVER CODES FROM 1983. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE
YOU SO MUCH! Now I know that Diana won't like what I'm about to tell
my wonderful Blogaudians. “OH
WELL”,
to quote the mighty Ann King of the Jersey lands!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! 'Wo'
Billy
Harner,
and yes, the last
man on the Steel Pier;
but then, shortly before you were, some other major event went down
on this pier, and we all know it, so why play stupid ass games? But
just how many blonds were a part of that one, old Pine Hill pal from
New Jersey, U. S. A.???? Yes, blond, redhead, brunet, 'whatever',
my
great
old bud from our youth, Mister
Congressman Andrews. There are a lot of women
who seem to knock
on my door
with regularity. One asked for 'Aretha',
and just the other day over the weekend, one asked for 'Vicky'.
I now have come to the conclusion that this
is just P.C.,
as I term this not so nicely, but still, quite accurately. The other
P.C., that is, remember, from earlier Morianity Blogs? So when my
persecutors get real bad for a long stretch, as we all know and
remember quite well, ON
COMES MY ***** COMMAND!!!!!!!!!!
BUTTTT,
my upstairs neighbor is a real Rose Jacobey 'hammerer', let me tell
you all that.
One day I am going to stick that hammer right through her damn
eardrum! MY
RUSSIAN MOTHER ******* HACKERS
or 'whatever
Congressman',
are at it big time, on MY COMPUTER-MOUSE, YO!!
Now,
the rest of all of Morianity, is the attempt by me, Mountainpen, to
connect the greatest and most incredible dots in all of human
history, so
may the heavens pity me if I am wrong?
I hope my mouth
works a little better than poor Tommy's,
Mister ADA PHASE-4-Jack McCoy.
COPYRIGHT
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983 ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE
THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”,
NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”
MY
MUSIC PROJECT #29.
ONLY
WHERE IS IT, MISTER HOUDINI?
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
Yes
people, this will be a very interesting next few days. FOLKS,
I TOLD YOU THATBACK IN SEPTEMBER OF 2012. DID I NOT, YO?
I
am the Chosen Cursed HUNTINGTON, and the chosen cursed Huntington
never is recognized no matter if I should jump up in the air and fly
around like Jenny Johnson and even toss a shark through a high rise
condo window. This was all eluded to in my great book from 1994 as I
must slap my own back as no one else fucking will, yes, “THE
PERMISSION BARRIER”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
Don't
you dare fucking mock me; Mister McNulty!!!
ENDlessness
AND END TRANSMISSION.
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