FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 28, 2018
3:11
ANTE' MERIDIAN
BLOG
92 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
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This
is a truly evil demonic attack, to use old world freaking verbiage
here, kind folks and people, and Blogaudians in general. The mother
fuckers have struck me again around a quarter shy of three on this
cunt eating Friday moUUUUUUUUUrning!!!!!!!!!!!! I am literally mother
fucking living on large doses of cunt lapping Metamucil Powder. Where
are you, Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, sir????
Notice
my parallel event bullshit is right on target, kind Sheriff KJM, sir.
The past two days, I have been major mother
fucking assaulted by this WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE AND HALLS FAWCES IN
GENERAL, and the stock market has been soaring as a result,
just as I have been discussing on my MORIANITY
BLOGS FOR THIRTEEN MOTHER FUCKING
YEARS NOW, KIND SIR, YO YO YO YO
YO YO!
Yes
sir folks, and yes mahm too; if I ever had a large sum of money, I
would create my own hospital, OUTSIDE OF THIS EVIL EMPIRE AMERICA,
where things would work for the good of the patient, and not some
governing body and or some mother fucking crooked medical
system!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fucking psych clinic was hell
yesterday, and yes oh wonderful spellchecker, Hellapukeyuk,
too, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to try and somehow work
myself off of my anti-anxiety medication, so I
won't have to put up with this horrible mother fucking bullshit
treatment any longer. They turned it all around, making this
entire fucking recent medical disaster that I have been blogging
about for two weeks or so now, and claim it is basically all my own
fault, as always, it is me who is always the bad guy and me who is
always doing it all mother fucking wrong. This medical community shit
in this totally messed up mother fucking country SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS,
SUCKS, SUCKS, SUCKS, AND SUCKS!!! I want other countries of
this planet to know that American medicine has become a horrendous
mother fucking nightmare, and has absolutely zero interest any longer
in trying to make the patient happy or well. We're not listened to,
and not trusted, and this to me is total character ASSASSINATION that
makes a person who already is in a totally mother fucking vulnerable
position, feel about ten inches cunt lapping tall! Why anyone wishes
to come to this awful fucking cunt country, is beyond me. If the
fucking south American folks knew the shit that I was going through
here as a totally mother fucking legal citizen, they would have no
desire to cross the border. Hey Cousin
Trumpie, yo, all you need to do is let
them all know about the Mountainpen and his goddamn mother fucking
blogs, yo. You won't need the fucking
cunt eating five billion bucks for your god-ass stupid mother fucking
wall, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! Problem
solved, yo!!!!!!!!
Still
peeps, don't let me even try and fool a damn soul. I
blame a lot of fucking shit on my rotten worthless daughter, because
she knows my medical shit is very real, and she also knows,
and I know that she does; that only she could vindicate me, and she
would rather keep the big closet syndrome going, and let me
suffer for endless time, and eventually die. Now
nobody said that anyone owes anyone a thing, because
they don't. Still, my conscience would fucking bug the
hell out of me if I were her, knowing what she obviously does about
all of this shit, ever since she was goddamn thirteen fucking years
old now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No
people, when a patient walks out of a medical establishment, that
charges tons of fucking money, such as a hundred bucks for the usage
of a box of goddamn nose blow tissue, under some absurd fancy ass
name in every hospital across this evil empire, and on that very same
token, makes a large percentage of us feel worse rather than better,
mentally as well as physically; well to quote
the late and grate wonderful dynamite darling of disco, from the year
1981, Mizz Donna Adrian Gaines Summer,
“SOMETHING'S WRONG SOMEWHERE”!!!!!!!
I mean I walked out of that mother fucking worthless Treasure
Coast Community Health Clinic yesterday, feeling like I
wish I could look over and see the entire place just get hit by a
tiny nuclear bomb, and be blown to fucking cunt eating total
Hellapukeyuk and HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Something
is wrong when I have to pay big bucks, or the insurance does, same
difference, to just be treated like total mother fucking garbage, and
never helped one bit, and made to feel like a fucking criminal when
you ARE NOT A CRIMINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can
have this evil goddamn place, Sheriff, and everybody goddamn
else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If
only this was the purgatory. Jesus fucking Christ Almighty, yo. At
least I could switch all around,and become Franklin or the Native
American Miqueon Squaw, or Demetrious the Silversmith, and then Mark
Mohr, and so forth, any time I wish to switch it up. In the great
Purg folks, I can switch my energy and become
Ricktofarious living with my Lightning
Goddess at Ricktown Manor, and then pow, I can switch over to
becoming Zeranniss Yancy with a city name and a city pass, residing
in HEAVEN or (Sahasra Dal Kanwal) the great capitol
city of the entire purg, and then many other parts of me, and
poof, just like that with a single quick flashing fucking
thought!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This shit out here in this blown out fucking
hyperspace, totally fucking sucks my cock licking prick at light
velocity squared!!!!!!!!!!
Notice
a very fucking strange and beyond weird event that occurred
when I posted up my previous blog (#91), yesterday. The dude told me
to randomly select (4) items from four blogs. But the one at the end
seemed to copy (4) times. Now what weird fucking artificial
intelligence is built into my Open-Office-Program? Or is it some
gigantic hack from some transdimensional parallel plane in the
virtually limitless hypERCHRIST or hyperspace, Mister
SPELLchecker????!!!!!! Hey for that fucking matter kind folks, we
can ask ourselves a totally brand new question, as well as slowly
work our way down the elusive and outlandish road of new mysteries
that surround what Morianity calls and labels, (P4E) or
Phase-4-Entities??? I mean really, just HOW DO WE HUMANS EVER REALLY
KNOW when these P4E beings are attempting to instruct us about
something, and usually something prophetic? Bibles love prophecies!
The Judaic Christian Bible and the great KJ-VERSION of it, is totally
filled to the brim with such things. I mean Star Trek predicted an
energy being such as DIANA choking people, on that episode with the
COMPANION and Zephran Cochran the inventor of the warp drive being
discovered alive on that weird little asteroid planetoid. Law and
Order has so many it is pointless to attempt tolist them all. We have
the Mayor from New Jersey and the metals, we have the Trade Center
before the real disaster, as th eone referred to on several before
9-11 episodes is referring only to the parking garage bombs that went
off, but later on, the entire fucking dual towers were knocked to the
fucking ground. Then we have the great somewhat silly show,
Babylon-5. The episode of CHOKE DAY in daughter song year, or June 4,
1997; is literally all about predicting the entire TRUMP
ADMINISTRATION, and all the surrounding crap around it. Taking that
in lieu with the 1979 song that is not being played while having
myself a tall one at the bar, but still Lenny, “By
the Rivers of Babylon”, I mean hey Tom Glenn and Patty
Hollister, I ain't a fagot, so for crissake yo, why don't you give me
a mother fucking brake here? What is a PHASE-4-ENTITY
(P4E)? Well, this is a purgatite or (Purgatory-Resident)
who attempts to dream out into hyperspace in ways that violate what
morianity labels and calls, “LAWTRONICS”, or simply put, born
here but in ways that violate too much of the natural laws. So
Superman and Spiderman and all possible characters like these, really
do exist, even the M&M's Santa
Claus! So when they attempt to come here with us, the
LAWTRONICS breaks the connection before they can come here and break
the natural laws, and so they then become the mere fantasies and
imaginings of fiction writers. These P-4-E are very real, and they
exist Astrally. But can they eventually start to effect their
handlers/writers, in ways that cause them to shine in new ways, such
as prophets? Well, you tell me. It sure seems this way to mother
fucking whittle old me, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
WEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Whether
or not the only reasons and objectives of P4E to do this however, is
so as to become invisible prophets, and assuming this is indeed a
true reality; then how can we as humanity, begin learning from this,
or in other words, without being able to sift through what truly is a
prophecy, then we would just think that all fiction works are real in
some way or going to happen, and this is obviously not the case. As
with all things, normally the most logical answers to these bizarre
mysteries are the shortest distance lines between two points, and
these points being here, the question and the answer. 2+2 and 4 is
the same truth in other words, but one may not see this because 4 can
be the result of 3+1 or even 2.83 and 1.17. It is almost like looking
at the phenomenon of hyperspace towel seepage effects. The more
intense and powerful that any event is in our human lives, the
stronger its print-through effects are going to also be in all
localized areas of the hyperspace. No, not
alligators or hypERCHRIST's, Mister
Spellchecker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No kind folks and
unkind ones too; we don't 'dream' over and over, about our roughly
30-70 percent of our mostly boring days and times. But get
married, get into a plane or boat or car
crash, win a couple hundred million
smacks on a Powerball Lottery ticket, lose
a parent or child, or some dear to the heart loved one, and
pow; towel seepage effects go straight into
hyper-drive. You all know that Morianity is telling powerful
truths, and many just don't like facing up to these truths and I am
powerless to do anything about that; me kind
fiends and friends out here!!!!
Hyperspace
effects us in any single 3-D life we are living in, because
we and our so-called ordinary waking life reality, in absolute truth,
IS 5TH DIMENSIONAL!!!!!!!!! There is no getting around the
simple logic here. If we can awaken out of
sleep and have our moods seriously effected by powerful yet forgotten
dreaming interactions from other worlds of the transdimensional
multiverse; how can we believe for a single lousy ass second,
that we are truly 3-D entities? Maybe we
live PHYSICALLY in 3-D. I never ever disputed that fact
for a damn minute, people. But our existence here in waking life is
truly in 5-D. In theory, if we wake up mad at the world because,
remembered or not remembered, we just experienced being in a terrible
fight, and being beaten up real badly; and as a result, we go out to
our job, where on the night before, we already were ticked off at our
boss for something that he or she did to us; and then we say some
curse word, or do something else totally inappropriate, and get fired
as a result; then how can anyone say that life
is not fully five dimensional? We can play all sorts of little
box-lab games here, as well as make up zillions of stupid stories;
but my point is made, and
I know it. I don't need the ADA Mister
Wirtz Senior up there in Camden County to tell me that,
either!!!! So
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Nothing
ever changes for poor old fucking Mister mountainpen. NOTHING! Still,
why did Tom Glenn totally think that I was a fucking fagot because I
wrote a song at age fourteen with the hope of having my lovely Patty
sing it for me with her lovely operatic voice. She sounds just like
that car ad on TV where the car owner hits that enhancement button on
his car system, and that gorgeous opera vocalist really comes out in
all her glory. I swear it is just like these P4E know every single
electron dance inside my brain.
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0253
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
START
OF FREAKING BLOG:
Another
heavy day of WOMO SIEGE is upon me, as well as the normal Florida
2011 INVISIBILITY/HOSTILITY AREA HOLOGRAM ATTACK!!!!!
CHEMTRAILS
are quite bad, ALL THOUGH I HAVE SEEN WORSE, AND THEY ARE MAKING ME
GET SICKER AND SICKER, BUT THEN, OTHER PEEPS ARE ALL COUGHING ALL
AROUND ME AS WELL, SO IT IS NOT JUST MY 'DNA' THAT THEY EFFECT, YO.
I
CAN PROMISE THE WORLD, AS I HAVE MADE ALL MY PROMISES; THAT THE DOW
JONES STOCK MARKET must now be flying way over 12K points, and I all
ready know my Phils were ruined and wrecked, MISTER
WOLF-74!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just watch,
this attack that wiped out or tried to, my getting my needed meds to
physically survive, sorry turkey knives and cuzz's, this has gone on
as long as it will, WITHOUT DIRE AND MAJOR MOTHER FREAKING BUTT WIPE
CONSEQUENCES, DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
will tell huge secrets as soon as I come back, right now, this needs
to post just shy of freaking four PM-EDST,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANNY, GRANNY.
Yes
sir, Mister J. P. R., this was chosen at random, as I told you I do
this from time to time. My machine was somehow taken over by some one
or something, Captain Kirk and ROCK the Android. WOW would he make a
great vocal track on anybody's techno music, Mister Tony Bonjovi, and
Engineer Ryan, yo!
NOTHING
EVER CHANGES FOR THE MOUNTAINPEN, NO HOW, NO NOTHING, MIZZ ROSS, YO,
SO AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies, and all those
powers and forces and people responsible for this two day siege siege
of 26 and 27 December of 2018; on a crush-destruct
order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189,
max.-power. Open-Command, General Order #7.
Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP17 sub-code, under
G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD.
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted
long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone
is colored RED. The
low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic
reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional),
(AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
MAGNESONIC, on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE,
PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, you will now be
transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Boy
oh boy oh Uncle Billy Wonderful life BOY”; am I UNDER A MAJOR
MOTHER FUCKING TOTAL ASS DEATH SIEGE, AND THIS IS TWO
STRAIGHT CUNT HUFFING DAYS OF
THIS NOW SIR, AND KIND SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, YO YO
YO YO!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WOW
is this pathetic chosen HUNTINGTON under the big ass guns with death
sky assaults, chemtrailing, poisonous vapors bringing me death bowel
assaults and diareah, kind sir, and TOTALLY VIOLATING MY CIVIL
RIGHTS, MY HUMAN RIGHTS, AND NOT TO MENTION MY HUNTINGTON
CONSTITUTIONAL MOTHER FUCKING RIGHTS, SHERIFF SIR, YO YO YO YO!!!!
Well,
there is a whole lot to mother fucking tell, folks, and since the
enemies and the HALLS FAWCES who control them; are so mother fucking
hellbent, on wiping out a pathetic, and totally innocent United
States citizen, who's done absolutely nothing ever to anyone; unlike
what they all have done to me, for about five straight cunt chewing
goddamn decades; I will now tell some things that put quite frankly
and totally politely; WILL CROSS OVER SOME
HUGE MOTHER FUCKING RED LINES, YO
YO YO YO!
First
off, I ran into a vely vely intelesting non Bob McDowell from Cooley
Hall high Hell character, and maybe this dude was put in my path by
them, or by those on my side of this great cosmic altercation, and as
always,who can ever really know such things as these save the angels
themselves, and their creators, which is a wild tale that would so
much interest and fascinate dudes such as the great and wonderful two
somewhat famous now television educators, those being, NYU's
Professor Michio Kaku and Mister
great author, David Childress!!!!
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This
dude works in a private capacity, and
not in any way for the County of Saint Lucie,
Florida, USA; and he is part of a
group who runs errands such as small food deliveries to
the poor and needy folks, around the holiday season, and other such
philanthropic duties. His pal knocked on my door twice now with a box
of foods, ranging from canned veggies
with far off expiry dates, nice turkey-stuffing
boxes, pinto beans, marshmallow
bags, and so forth. Today, his manager was in the common area,
talking to one of the tenants, while I was checking the mail that I
only go and check about once in five days or so; and we talked for a
moment after he had said good-buy to whom he was speaking with, and
we sat down at one of the tables, and I only had two minutes, as I
was going to my psych clinic, the Treasure
Coast Behavior Health Clinic of Vero Beach, Florida, on
US-Highway-1. But it was indeed long enough to
let him know a few interesting things, since he
said something mind blowing to me first, that literally
opened up the door for my then saying what I spoke to him. It seems
that he, along with a friend of his; both know a man who lives in the
next county over from me to the south, Martin County; and this man
gets a tone on his machine every time I post up
a blog at Google-Blogger; and he goes up and
prints it up. Then at meetings in his club, my blogs are
topics of conversation. This is a place similar to a lodge that my
late pal Mister Roth used to be a member of so many of, and this
lodge is very secret, as are Dave Roth's Masonic Lodge; only this
place is even more into things that pertain to the supernatural
and the ET-situation. They only stumbled onto me about two
months ago,but have now printed my older blogs back as far as about
early 2014, and they are still
working on getting all of them printed, all the way back to
Morianity's beginning in early January
somewhere, in the year of 2006, while I was residing at Jenny
Plageman's trailer Park, the Mullica Manor, in Mullica Township, New
Jersey, just east along Route-30, from world famous BERRYVILLE, also
known as (AKA) Hammonton. On top of this incredible stuff, me peeps,
and other wonderful great blogaudians out here, YO; he personally is,
as am I, a major fan of the great New-Age-Author, Mister
James Redfield, and the other two giants IMHO, Doctor
Bruce Goldberg, as well as Carlos
Castaneda. As most Blogaudians know only too darn well, James
Redfield is in total agreement with Morianity's concept that
synchronization allows otherwise hidden stories to be told and
realized throughout cosmos. Hidden by the way is merely another word
that means 'occult'. Ask any really knowledgeable English Major from
a great Ivy League University, and they will most definitely
corroborate this powerful yet fully accurate information, me folks,
and IPYT!
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I
will tell you more about this fellow in greater elucidation, but not
today on this blog. Still, he said that the group wants me to do
something that pertains to many things that Morianity discusses on
blogs. He said to go to four random blogs from anywhere in the past,
and scroll randomly down the Open-Office pages of them, and stop at
random as well, and without even looking at anything, paste in two
paragraphs and just keep going, from one blog to the next, four
times, and do not post up photos or diagrams or anything pictorial or
non-text material. Well, you want it,
you've GOT IT!
In
the middle of October, twelve years ago, Sheriff Mascara
sir; my friend Ed and I, went to a library in
Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey, one afternoon. I posted up a
blog from a computer there, saying that he and I were coming down
now, to Tennessee Avenue. This was the day where that crime was
committed on me by Robert McGuire, kind Sheriff. Why
is he allowed to destroy numerous automobiles that I drive? Why is
Paula allowed to RAPE ME, TORTURE ME, TRY TO RUN ME DOWN IN STORE
PARKING LOTS, and make my life an endless living hell, coming
to me in nightmares and dreams, singing her stupid garbage song to
me???????????????????? WHY? If I did these
things, you would put me into prison for the rest of my life,
Sheriff, AND YOU SHOULD!!!!
It began with
unbloggable shit. I will tell you that a huge ZEST SOAP BAR was
handed to me by the owner of Haddonwood Health Club or the dude who
was there in early AUGUST of 1996 right before it closed mysteriously
down on a dime without any reason. After grabbing it, Mickey the
lifeguard who I only know from this one particular universe out there
in hyperspace; shouted to me, “Hay King David, wash up you fat
slob”! Then as I stared at him, he charged over to me, and pushed
me into the pool. As I fell in, I realized I was in the deep end part
of it, and that no water was in it. I hit the bottom very hard and
heard my head crack completely open. I then got up and climbed out
and everyone was screaming and pointing at me, saying, “Look, he's
a zombie, he can't fucking die”. Then my old Maryland camp
counselor, NON RED-X MACK KAITER grabbed
me, shook me hard and chanted loud prayers at me, and then he threw
me in the pool, and this time, it had a normal amount of water in it.
I then found myself scrubbing up with this huge triple normal full
sized soap bar, and it was a ZEST bar, and I will not forget this
wild shit in seventeen million mother fucking years, I promise! When
I have a wild NIGHT, I just about always have a wild DAY that
follows. You might say that the parallel fuckign cunt event for this
to happen, is around 99%. WHAAAAAA!!!!!!
At
mother fucking 20 past ten this Monday morning, out she went while
switching from a Music Channel to The Weather Channel. POOF, out it
went and when I tried to call Comcast Cable Company, it won't go
through to fucking shit. Some shit about circuits being busy and the
first time the recorded messages came on saying that I did not dial
correctly, so which one was it, NSA-TRUMP mother fucking dirt hole
shit licker???
I
know that you tried to come to me yesterday, Lightning, my endless
love. Our love is like a flower, baby-blond; it only can grow!!!
Here
are the two recent YOUTUBE VIDEO LINKS, CLICK AND ENJOY IF YOU WANT,
AND LOG OFF IF YOU DON'T WANT, SAWN YOU, FOLKS,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
Governor
Jesse Ventura talks about time travel, in ways that totally connect
up with stuff from my own personal life; including the chance that
his own distant relative, Salvador, was sent to me in 1965, to show
me, and not Miss Wescott; how to tap my fingers in really cool ways,
so that 'lightning' will respond to this, up in 1983; on a telephone
receiver.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC
TRACK
ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.
To
sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with
the words to the song, YO.
Here
are some other very interesting video links to Youtube postings, for
those interested in my story, as most of these will connect what
Morianity is all about, in one way or another. Hay, if you're not
interested, that is your business!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HAVE
A VERY NICE DAY, PEOPLE.
Before
you have that real nice day, the submarine dreams at Highview were
all coming when I was going to the Haddonwood Swim Club, and they
were all over the near shoreline of Long Beach Island, not far north
of Atlantic City and Brigantine, in New jersey. But there was more to
those dreams, and it involved stuff way up here in this new present
time, and only recently have I been able to see the connection and
correlation between these events. More will be told later on this
topic, as it is a real good time now to say the word, and so I will,
like, *****W---O---W*****!!!!!!!!!
Recently,
I have picked up a new enemy jerk off on a motorcycle who tears by
the building and intentionally guns is bike illegally, just to annoy
and persecute me, it happens right at my point of hearing it the
worst, and I am planning to install a video system, a simple web-cam
to allow me to keep a continuous surveillance of the street outside,
and then take the prints into the police for a close up zoom of the
license plate, and demand that I want to file a complaint against
this WOMO ENEMY. His registration has to have a real human name, and
it won't be WOMO, unless by sheer coincidence, it is James Q. Womo,
and I doubt that will be the case. By the way, the nabes did some
door banging and loud talking out in the hall, and a little bit of
their subwoofer noise earlier today, as now it is ten minutes before
seven on this Thursday evening as I type on. Still, they were toned
down from their usual real loud annoying and uncouth partying norms.
Hellapukeyuk praise the SAR. In ancient Aramaic lingo, SAR means
LORD, and ESS means ah. This is why the name of Goddess is equal to
the name of Sarah, in Christianity of olden times of biblical
antiquity and even into BCE dates.
When
I was on Tennessee Avenue in the winter of 1997, I met Robert McGuire
for the first time, in my adult life. I know that I encountered him
at least once as a youth as well, and this is topic for later blogs.
Still, about just less than ten years later in the autumn of 2006,
while with Edward Lynch, AKA Ed Himacane, on my blogs; this man did
something that was right along the same lines of what he somehow did
to me when we met in 1997 when I went down to
ask some questions about the great Sarah Krassle. AS I SPEAK, A NASTY
LEFT SIDE DEATH ANGEL IS STRIKING ME AT TWO MINUTES PAST SEVEN THIS
EVENING, 12/20/12. I have had since just the first day of summer,
within a three percent tolerance of this figure, about 985 of these
attacks now, pretty much averaged with left verses right sides, with
a slight gain on the left side, reported just in case this bears out
to have some weird significance, shortly, or far into the future; so
it is now being recorded onto the blog legally, and permanently; and
this will not be a part that is edited. Let us keep moving on with
the topic of worm holes, Tennessee Avenue, the Ancient Astronaut
Theory Club, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, Tennessee Avenue in
Atlantic City, New Jersey, and great family overseer and director,
MISTER Robert Nonwaterhosedreams McGuire.
Well,
this may be interesting. I will have to read it back. Still, they
asked me to randomly
pick
four old blogs, and at
random
places in those blogs. I was as random as cosmos
permits,
BUTTTTTTT,
big ass But,
kind folks; just as I said all the time back in 2006
and 2007
on so many of my older blogs when all of Morianity was new and
starting, yo; all of random is really just a disguised pattern. This
indeed is exactly WHY coincidences and synchronicity is what it is
and does what it does. In higher truth where mind or brain is truly
SPIRIT or where M=E (mass is energy), tiny subatomic mathematical
numerations all come together in one gargantuan and unfathomable
program of reality/truth. So verily (truthfully) I say onto all of
you, and yes, a quote from my extremely great in more ways that one
Uncle
Jesus;
know these truths, and
you will KNOW.
Still, I will always suffer under the great and awful mother fucking
HUNTINGTON CURSE. Cuzz
Donald used to call it the Mason
Curse,
but this went far beyond the Mason Line of the lineage of this beyond
great and awesome Huntington family, yo; and IPYT!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
to crossover
a few RED
LINES,
and yes Dave Roth, to shoot all around, in that pitch black shooting
gallery of numerous potential enemies, and fawces; of the great
Mister HALLucinogenic HALL, no Mister Spellchecker, not
HALLUCINOGENIC, but that brings me straight to something that I was
just going to do a RED-LINE-CROSSOVER,
and FURTHER FREAKING PROVING the great James
Redfield,
as well as Morianity, in our concepts! Sir Mortimer Mortino, the
elusive and ever fucking annoying death angel, has been buzzing all
around me for a very long time now; and this
year of 2018 has been about the mother fucking worst of them all.
Right now at 4:31 this horrendous fucking ass afternoon or
disafsternoon may be a more appropriate word for me to insert herein,
yo; I am getting a nasty fucking right side attack!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
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***********************************
theansweristheqyuestion,
wow is Spellchecker alive and well, and living on Hal
Lindsey's Earth Planet,
whether this is the year 1976 or naut,
mizz AT&T Blake,
like WO and like WOW, all
Joann's and all Joanna's.
I just wanted to type The, and instead, I decided to hit my
ENTER-KEY,
oh mighty disappearing demon entity named DISDEE,
or perhaps her close cousin from NASA, that started all of this
monstrous rotten computerized world we no must endure!!!!! Yes folks,
the gods of the ASTRAL PLANE do not come from distant points in this
universe. They come through the VOID-FIELDS,
that Mister Einstein called, “BLACK-HOLES”.
These gods can come through as singular entities or in what they call
groupation or (multiple form) as we mortals might think of this as.
Groupation is merely a grouping of these extremely powerful entities,
powerful in that they have an abundance of pure energy, or said
better, THEY ARE an abundance of pure energy. We may see them when
they are coils as the cigar shaped flying sky phenomenon, and if they
are coins, then we see them more in saucer forms. Still, they are not
aliens from distant places in our universe. It takes one entire
universe to make an EARTH-PLANET. An EARTH-PLANET means a place where
conditions eventually produce sentient life beings or forms, on a
world perfectly capable and designed to sustain the housing of these
formations (bodies). Now we all hear in this new age of machines, and
machine eventual take over, after artificial intelligence and
robotics, eventually replace our present species of sentient life;
how we through this process will then go onto adapt so as to survive
on other worlds (planets or moons) as well as even in the near vacuum
and void of space itself (the vast area that is all in-between the
planets and stars and moons and all the rest of it). All of this
Earth Planet existence is NOT an experiment, and it is NOT a neutral
point of anything where the gods/angels/demons/whatever?, use and or
interact with us in any meaningful way. The entire thing as well as
the entire reason that all of this is here, is AN ASTRAL PLANE GAME
OF THESE GODS, and the reason and motivation for these games is one
and only one, and it is powerful and awesome beyond anything that
human mortals have any tiny clue about. It is to help them forget
that they EXIST INSIDE OF ENDLESSNESS. Time is only something that
can be created for giving THEM what many of THEM consider to be
VACATIONS from that hellishness. Time is not, nor was it ever, a real
item that exists, but rather, it is WE who simply exist, NOT TIME,
hence, nothing ever began nor will it ever end, because it simply
CANNOT! So to distract away from the total unfathomable hell of that
awareness; these Astral Plane or (Purgatory) entities, play their
game of DISTRACTION, and temporarily remove their awareness of and to
this horrific nightmare on mega-steroids. You as human beings
however, won't ever see it in reverse, because as humans within a
time-dimension, you fear and naturally so, the idea of extinction and
termination of self. Your biggest fear is in truth, your greatest
hope, and that hope can never ever be realized. We exist, time is an
illusion, and NONE OF US CAN EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER REST
IN PEACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
are many forbidden mother fucking powerful knowledge-bites out here
that I can spill all over the world, to really get shit nice and
messy and sloppy! Sheriff Mascara sir, I know these things because I
AM. I EXIST. When you absolutely know that you exist and that time is
pure illusion, you would be surprised at what you can do, and what
FAWCES of mister Hall choose to communicate with you, from birds and
fish, to stars and electrons, and GODS from the Plank-Time
(purgatory). I make none of these things up. This entire blog is
truth, major mother fucking powerful truth, and verily and truly I
tell you that right now, yo!
THIS
TRAnsdimensional TRANSMISSION NOW ENDS!
'DIRTBAG
TRUMP SEEMS TO BE IMMUNE TO MY MAGNETIC SOUND MACHINE'
SUNDAY,
DECEMBER 23, 2018
2:08
ANTE' MERIDIAN, EARLY MORNING
Yes
folks, the great Mister jerk off current president and galaxy class
egomaniac and monster, is indeed, and always has been, fully and
completely immune from the negative effects of my counterstriking
MAGNESONIC SUPER MACHINE, from 1983. It effects many of my enemies
and has wiped a lot of better and stronger people than me, right off
of this fucking cunt Earth Planet, but not him. No sir me brother,
not fucking him! As soon as I posted up my previous blog, I have
fallen under a super death assault. SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, this truly
and absolutely is a major hyper ultra:
RED
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I
posted up my prior blog, and kaboom, I have been struck hard with
literally a fucking cunt eating dozen assaults now. As I started this
blog several minutes ago, a nasty loud ass fucking fire alarm is
going off in the building, and these alarms are back now to happening
two and three times daily, kind SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR!!!!!
I
was first struck with another mother fucking video cut out that I
discussed a couple of fucking blogs back. Then I had a major
kitchen roach assault out of the blue, and had to empty
yet another can of fucking ass expensive RAID all over the place. I
then had my Comcast fucking cunt Cable
Television system freeze up, and the remote wouldn't work, so
I had to unplug the cable box, and let the entire fucking thing
reboot. This happens a lot Sheriff; and I pay
all of my mother fucking cable bills on time, yet they allow
this hacking and shitty mother fucking service to be endlessly
delivered to me, YO! I could list the attacks on and on and on, and I
know that I don't really have to. You know what is going on, and I
know that you do. Ron Wirtz back up in Camden County installed some
kind of a radio transmitter back in the early nineteen-nineties, that
verified that I indeed was being hit by highly spurious radio signals
that were directly aimed at my residence. Of course, that was “ALL
THAT HE WAS EVER LEGALLY ABLE TO TELL ME”, like duh; kind
Sheriff, sir. We all know what is happening fucking here. The
DJIA markets had a bad mother fucking week, so the parallel event
using fucking dirtball enemies are striking me real fucking cunt hard
this weekend and BOTBARING my entire fucking weekend all to fucking
cunt chewing hell and back, YO!!!! Like what the shit eating
hell is new, BRO?
Well
Sheriff, the mother fuckers hacked off my
SPELLCHECKER PROGRAM AGAIN, SIR! RETGH, ajfjfj89dgsj[,
ahj8dnp, ajkdfjfjei.
The
entire county is right outside my window, and nothing
like this has happened for a long time. I do
not smell any smoke, but still, I may have to temporarily
shut down this blog and continue it later, in case I need to fucking
cunt evacuate my cunt chewing apartment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MAGNESONIC,
MMMMMMMMMMMMM, OPEN COMMAND. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO AND HOW TO
DO IT, AND YOUR TONES ARE ALL DATA TRANSFERRED. Scan for whoever is
putting me through this weekend death assault siege for total crush
destruct, singe destruct, total destruct, DESTRUCT! On and 'I' to
'D', A/B TONE, phasing punishment sequencing system, you now will
take the empowered image-object that is on your transpower block, and
destroy it, and make sure that all atomic duplicational technologies
as well as zero dimensional technologies are used, for full and
absolute effects to be accomplished.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Go
to General Order 189, under G-719, G-1133, CG-5555, under Coded
General Order 18, AND S---T---O---P!
IF
ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM KILLED OR FOUND DEAD IN OR NEARBY MY
APARTMENT HERE IN FUCKING FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, I WAS MURDERED BY
PRESIDENT DONALD JOHN TRUMP AND HIS HORRIBLE FUCKING HENCHMEN, AS
WELL AS PAULA KING AND ALL OF MY OTHER FAMILY AND ATLANTIC CITY
ENEMIES FROM TOTAL FUCKING HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
IS THE WORST MOTHER FUCKING ASSAULT ON ME, KIND SHERIFF MASCARA, IN
MANY MOTHER FUCKING YEARS, AND I NEED YOUR H ELP. MY DEATH AND MY
BLOOD AND WITH GOOGLE AND BLOGGER AS MY WITNESS FROM BEYOND THE
GRAVE, IS ON YOUR HANDS, OH GREAT SIR!!!!!!!!!
THIS
DOGTOWNITE, AND
THIS
HUMAN-HYBRID, IS SIGNING OFF.
Blood
type---A
neg. Eye
color---green-hazel
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