Judge Buttercheese and his magic time-house

JUDGE BUTTERCHEESE & HIS MAGICAL TIME-HOUSE OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY

MONDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 17, 2018

SHERIFF MASCARA, I AM UNDER A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING DEATH ASSAULT TODAY. I HAVE NABE NOISE ATTACK, CUM-PUKE-HER HACKERS, AIR SIEGE WITH LOUD PRIVATE PLANES AND LARGE CHEMTRAILS ALL OVER, AND THE DAY IS YOUNG AND ONLY MOTHER FUCKING BEGINNING, KIND SIR!!!

Whenever the building people knock on the doors to the apartments early in the morning, the crazy fucking nabes in my TRIAD system of hellishness, always come to fucking life, with a major vengeance. Some automatic mother fucking system inside the machine is operating, and until it fucking is done doing its damn ass bullshit, I will have problems typing this blog. Eddie Himacane never believed me when I told him that unless the machine has terabytes of power, multitasking WILL FUCK UP your typing projects. I've seen it over and over, and I know it is true; and yet he tells me that he is the fucking computer expert. McNulty would answer that one real nicely with his world famous by now, “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”! The knock on the door was the food bank with some cans of veggies and a bag of raw pinto beans. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yes lads and lassies, I am starting to take very seriously, the shit on the Science and History Channels on Cable-TV. You know what I'm talking about. It is the only explanation for my entire fucking bizarre and outlandish life of totally otherwise unexplainable continual and never ending cunt huffing bullshit! The only thing however that I don't agree with is that these gods from out there, care one way or another about humanity. This green-hazel eyed, type A negative blood human being, knows fully well that they are PLAYING A GAME, and it is no different at all than the kids today going into a video arcade place at their local fucking mall, and playing with little blobs or other such pack men and so forth. We merely up it one dimension from here, to quote the mighty and great late Doctor Coral Sagan. This is what my 1994 book, 'The Permission Barrier' was attempting to explain, and quite futility too may I add herein, kind and unkind folks, peeps, and Blogaudians in general. Obviously no one person does or ever will, have a handle on absolute truth, but my life's experience allows me to tell quite a powerful fucking story, that is if anyone out here ever gave a fucking damn ass shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One third of my triad-nabe situation, the peeps next door to me, have had a sign on their door off and on this year, that warns the world that their apartment is under video surveillance, and accuses the building authority of entering and taking things, if I am paraphrasing correctly from their note on the door that appears for a couple of months and then goes away, and then it is back again, etcetera. I too could hang such a note. I know that things fucking happen in here, BUTTERCHEE, BUT, big ass BUT, Mister Microsoft Spellchecker; I know that this is not what is happening. I know that these gods can do shit inside a person's fucking dwelling, without ever entering into it physically, or leaving so much as a tidbit iota of a trace. I watched them paste in, literally, planets and solar systems, so I know what I know, and at least I didn't say, that I know, Patty-Paula and Merry! My kitchen sink was fine a few days ago, and now it has stopped draining properly. I never pour food or grease into it, and the little bit that comes from washing dishes is completely compensated by dish washing liquid, and that is what is happening, Merry-look-alike, without any dish-washing machines. Now, this new problem just happens out of nowhere and for no reason at all, along with tons of brand new mother fucking roaches that just popped up out of the blue over the cock sucking goddamn weekend. As I said, I am dealing, and so are all of you whether you know it or not or believe it or not, with advanced entities that can just literally PASTE in and out, anything that they wish, to our reality. If you told your fifth great grand parents about modern day internet and computers and how we can cut and paste stuff (CAP), they would have you locked up in a bell tower somewhere. Knowledge and technology is relative.

Another powerful part of the games of these gods is the full control over the human mind. I witnessed this at McGuire's botbar-bar on 10-SC Avenue in early February of 1997, and before that, in late June of 1996, at my goddamn apartment, over at the great and powerful non-OZ Highview of Williamstown, New Jersey, on Kent Street and Sicklerville Road, Mizz Marie of 1972. Yes, she lived only a short trek away from that place in those times and days, but I am getting off of the beaten track here, folks, yo! My TPB-BOOK made no bones about the fact that this entire thing was super high technology and also, A HUGE FUCKING GAME, with us poor dumb human beings as the little Packman-blobs! Now, decades later, we see all my words echoed and replayed on these great cable-TV Channels, yo. WOW to that and all of it, huh Mizz P. Hollister? But some are still wondering if McGuire and Hollister are one of these gods. Stop worrying about it. The Exploratronic Supermind Society can temporarily go into any and all of us whenever they may choose to do so, and you will barely if at all, be aware of anything. If you are as sensitive as the Mountainpen, you may be slightly aware, but even I get caught off guard, yes Russ Thaxton sir, and Frank Chester, yo. So WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, again!!!!

If anyone can be mind controlled, this is why I am treated like fucking shit on these incredible BOTBAR days, no matter what I do or where I go, and it is ALSO WHY on other days, it is as though I am living on an entirely other world. So don't be so fucking quick to judge and say to me, as many do and have, you're just fucking all sick in the cunt eating head, and so people treat you fucked up. This is not so, and you are incorrect in your false ass judgments of a pathetic innocent targeted victim in a cosmic crime that is merely a huge fucking game to these prick eating fucking shits!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When it was 2007, I had been blogging for an entire year by then, and these gods could plainly see that I was planning to tell a huge major fucking tale of horror and woe to a blind, ignorant, unsuspecting world. This is why they began to step up the already existing HELLGAME with me at that point, first with Patty Jane the pipe-games-man, and without the fire or the light, from a transdimensional parallel reality, where the great fist throw game had five parts and not three, and then they went way beyond this, into the Judge Frank Rasso House-Of-Horrors or otherwise and AKA Judge Buttercheese and his magical time-house. Whether my kid was actually participating in this rotten mess or not doesn't even matter. I believe that a parallel universe doppelganger who is part of the ESS, did all of this, and not her, as we all know her from here. Still and all, my entire life was altered, and I lost every mopther fucking thing that was precious to me, what little I had and cherished is now gone forever, and not one mother fucking bastard on this planet, Sheriff sir, gives a cock sucking hoot-pollute in hell about any of it. But someday when these same nightmare events happen to more and more and more of us, then they WILL CARE, and to quote my great kid, then it will BE TOO LATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yeah yeah yeah, to quote lovely and talented sixties pop queen Melanie Safka; I do not about all that much about reptiles, nor do I want to, or for that matter about exotic cheeses. But I do know that I was struck hard by these Patty-Jane gamesmen with my medication. Now I have to drive nearly 20m miles round trip to another place to get my anti-anxiety medication. Because of the name of this other place, this is why I have thus named this blog title, what I have, along with the Starburn Pennsylvania dream, huh Mister Ron Carlisle Wirtz Senior? WOW!

Mizz Fondaslutweeds just tried to get me with her mother fucking [page eleven shitm, and guess what, she fucking did. The cunt eating masking tape gets old, and eventually makes the little paper fall off of my computer monitor, and she got me. Allow me now folks, to mother fucking compensate with my goddamn ass fives, yo, tanks!

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When I halted my blogging project that you all know as Morianity, for about a quarter of a decade, before resuming the project back late in August of 2018; I had something happen to me, that made me think very intently, about an old acquaintance that I met at the office of my old 1975 vocalist who did my two country tunes, back on April 30th of 1980, Congressman Rob Andrews; and as I speak-type, I'm getting a nasty left side death angel attack at approximately twenty minutes past eleven; and this man was his assistant, after Philip Petru and Steve Peterson had moved on from their positions there in 1998, and his name was Mister Clarence Harris. He was a very mysterious sort of a fellow in his own right, and had been a United States Marine Corpsman in his younger days. He told me once that if were not illegal to do so unless done officially by the federal government, that “He would love to somehow fake my death, and then standby and see who comes around to pick at my bones”. Let me quickly tell you how this fits into my blog project and after stopping it for a while. Once I had been 'gone' for a long time, 'they' complained that some of my blogs were offensive, and that they infringed on copyrights, and numerous other complaints, which all led to after starting these blogs up again this past August, I no longer am able to post many things that I used to, but also, many of my blogs had been taken down and removed, and sent back to what BLOGGER DOT COM calls, “DRAFTS”. If this wasn't along the lines of what Mister Clarence Harris told me that day in 1988 over at Guthrie Short's Blue Anchor, New Jersey mansion, at 231 Route 73; then I really, truly, honestly, and verily don't know what would, or could be; oh unkind world!!! This A-NEGATIVE, green-hazel colored eyed human hybrid is signing off for now, Mister David Childress, and Professor Michio Kaku of NYU. WHAAAAAA!

END TWANSMISSION SILWEE WABBIT, YO!

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2018

9:12 POST MERIDIAN

I DON'T AGREE WITH JENNIFER WASHBURN

No sir, no mahm, I do not. I also no longer agree with Dave Roth, about shooting in the dark; not when I am left with absolutely no other survival choice!!!!!!! It was bad enough when he said what he said, as far as my monstrous persecution, back when was in the year 1988, and only two years into this post August of 1986 DEATH-HELL, but after another thirty years and four months, well; I need not say another mother ******* word! I mean really, do I?

It is all on the older and beginning chapters on my Morianity BLOGS. I was in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG, with Mizz Jennifer Washburn. We were discussing my horrendous troubles and woes. I told her that maybe I need to prove my claims by jumping into the air and right over her entire building down there on Providence Road. She responded with an incredible retort that went, “Mark, what would it prove”? For reasons that completely elude and escape me, I never brought it up again, and I never did this. Now I think that I should have. But alas, all is not lost and over quite yet. Unlike more than two decades ago in the summer time of 1997, today there is not only the all mighty SOCIAL MEDIA, but everyone everywhere without exception, carries the universe around with them now in their pocket. I am speaking of the great camera-cell-phone. Yes folks, my 1997 ocean swimming days, should this had been the present era, would have altered the world considerably. Well, these ocean swimming days may just need to be resurrected me wonderful and kind people out here; in order to fulfill the prophecy of that great unknown by the public book, called, “The Permission Barrier” or TPB, as a shortened abbreviation. Oh yes, fulfilling prophecies is something that any great bible is full of, quite naturally. The Morianic prophecies are absolutely no darn exception, with the incredible flying concert fan. Yes, the great United States Copyright Examiners know precisely what is being said here, and I mean to carry out this promise, unless things mother ******* alter for me very soon, and for the goddamn better, and IPYT peeps! No lads and lassies, I do not think that I can afford NOT TO SHOOT AT ALL THE DAMN TARGETS that are in that large and pitch dark room, that Dave Roth was referring to back in 1988, that day over at my house in Moorestown, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG. So yes folks, I no longer agree AT ALL, not with Dave, and not with lovely Jennifer, YO!

Who really are the KING'S? And for that matter, who really are the CALLIO'S? And taking this a stretch even further down that elusive road of gloom, doom, and unfathomable fear; who really are the HUNTINGTON FAMILY? Well, let us begin to explore this, and in perspective with the Exploratronic Supermind Society and the “TRAVELERS” that comprise this group that Morianity has so named! In a totally abridged and compressed nutshell, just how does my personal post August 1986 hell, all fit into this, as well as how does my wild and mysterious glandular and throat condition fit into this rotten messy dog****? Again, let us further explore and super sleuth around, folks. First off, and this is not some damn cop out people, nothing fits perfectly when we continue to insist on viewing this matter in just three dimensions. We need the truth of fifth dimensional hyperspace, in order to properly frame and fit together, many of these wild cosmic jigsaw puzzle pieces. The great Albert Einstein was able to see that black-holes and parallel universes were mathematically verifiable, even though it wasn't as if he was able to point to any of them and say, hey yo, take a gander at this. If you refuse to see the incredible power of mathematics, then there truly is no point in wasting any further time, when you could be doing any number of fantastic other things besides reading the MOUNTAINPEN'S MORIANITY! When my mathematics proves for example, that many powerful items in my own hellish life, can be perfectly Bruce Pennock graphed and charted, when nothing else but the mathematics, will properly and adequately reveal these patterns of inconceivable truths; and people are still in total denial about the life-equations for lack of a better and more descriptive term; then nothing else that I could ever say and print in words, would matter one tiny whittle iota! As I speak and type at 9:43 now, a fire alarm is going off here at my public housing building, at 601 Avenue B, in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA, ESMWG. Switching the gears back now to mathematical truths; no one else in the scientific community has ever dared to apply mathematical power to human life situations, at least not at all in the way that Morianity has been doing on these blogs for coming up on thirteen years now. There is nobody else on this planet who has ever come to realize the powerful truth that shows mathematically how we indeed create and mirror image all of the so-called quantum physical equations and concepts. The greatest example is in the casino game of Roulette. If you tell people that they can jot down numbers from one wheel all of their life, or from hundreds of various wheels all over the world at multiple casinos; and the very same effect that follows the outcome ratio of all 38 numbers coming out once per 38 times, as longer and longer periods go by; will indeed occur; they won't listen to you, and they won't believe you. This is because it demonstrates an inherent power or said maybe more politely, an ability, for any ordinary citizen without any real-world power, but enough knowledge concerning this secret, along with a five thousand dollar top of the line computer; to literally do things that no law can even think about addressing, at least in present times. Said more simply, someone who believes and comes to understand this truth, can literally take over the nation, or even the planet, should that be their sincere desire, and they have a few believers and troops in their fold or click or mini-army, or whatever you may choose to label this. Why you ask me? Because with this being a true fact; three, or five, or ten people, can go into a gaming house and to the roulette area, and literally 'EFFECT THE OUTCOMES of the wheels, to some real degree, just as if the power of a cheated telekinesis was used, only it is no power, nor is it cheating, not really. Clark Kent said it all on that wonderful original 1950's Superman television show, “The only real power is the power of knowledge”! This was on that episode where those thugs and crooks were forcing that poor kidnapped swami to teach their wrestlers some various ways to injure other wrestlers by applying pressure on points of the body that are extra sensitive to the touch. That is true and real, and not just part of a fantasy show, and neither is it fantasy, what Mister Kent said to Jimmy Olson at the end of the show! Tiny secrets like this, are why I am able to defy the power of gravitation. Only in this past century or a little bit back into the prior one, did the general public even know the smallest truths about gravity, in so far as it is not something that pulls us downward towards the core of a planet or massive body, but actually is merely the bending and curving of the fabric of space itself, and Einstein called this Space-Time. Before these facts were accepted by the scientific community however, we all said space and time, and we were all walking around quite clueless. We still are. That is because only the absolute tiniest fraction of people on Earth, know about what some call Space-Time-Gravity, or what Morianity originally called it, (SPACE-TIME-MIND). Mind IS gravity. Mind is also a powerful part of Einsteins most famous formula, proving that we exist on a lighter or Astral-Plane (purgatory); and that we run out of energy eventually, after virtually limitless interactions there. Then we dream as soul divided by the speed of light squared, or MIND. Because I know this 100%, instead of 99.999999999999999999999999%, I am able to make myself weigh no more than a small feather inside of your pillows. Then I am able to will myself forward, as well as increase my velocity just like the great DEEDEE bird vultures do, using the so-called-pull of the planet from a high drop, and then repeating that procedure several times. Most people have no clue that these birds are able to reach air velocities of more than 200 MPH but nonetheless, it is absolutely true. So can I, and that is also absolutely the truth.

Well, if you insist on hearing it, I'll tell it. I am not giving out any details, but I am getting my medication through another pharmacy at the very far end of town, on the northern border area of Fort Pierce, near the Winn Dixie Plaza. When I drove over there late this goddamn morning I was completely assured, that there is no shortage of this medicine, and that Walgreen's is playing some kind of a game with me. I know that dirt bag Trump is behind this latest fiasco in my life, just as he has been tormenting and destroying my life now, ever since 1984; when I met a powerful lab-technician over at the office of that wild throat specialist doctor. Just why this is being done, is like that proverbial shortest answer being the correct one, in a majority of times. I was stopped in 1986 on my way out of dirt bag President Trump's Castle Casino in the summer time one day, and asked what method I use to choose my betting picks on the six outside roulette bets, and so I responded with total candor and told them it was a system that I call, PARALLEL-EVENT. Ever since that very day, I began getting air harassment, utility harassment, body death siege blows, and multiple other persecutions. It still goes on to this mother ******* day, and Trump is the author of my horrific nightmare. This week, his goddamn fixer-criminal lawyer is in big trouble with the ******* feds, and so he is using more siege on me, to lessen the woes of his pals! Ron Wirtz Senior, the Camden County, New Jersey ADA from the nineties, knows fully well that this is all the total and absolute truth, and I swear to it now under flag and country and to my great all mighty GODDESS SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE!!! So parallel event, right inside of three dimensions; fully connects into my casino woes, the death persecution on me ever since revealing the information to Trump's peeps, the lab-tech ESS-Traveler of 1984 that I fully believe some doppelganger of my daughter is possessing, to use an ancient word of description here; as well as a whole lot more stuff that we need not concern ourselves with at this precise point in non-Watergate time, “Senator” Kisser Jacobson!

The old world concept of possession, is replaced with more descriptive discussions here in Mountainpen's Morianity, and its basic fundamental subheading of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY. When one of them from any possible parallel universe realm, goes to sleep, and dreams through one of us over here, and is able to take over in some small way, for some small amount of time, making them the dominant and we the recessant entity while this is occurring; Morianity then labels this parallel universe sleep-dreamer; a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. This number of '3' is a comparative numeration to the two other number types, since all sleep-dreamers are EXPLORATRONS. Normal dreamers are TYPE-1. Those such as myself who are onto these powerful and frightening truths, are TYPE-2. Then there are those entities from the various countless parallel realms, that use their abilities on a regular basis, and are part of a collective and joint effort to, if nothing else; play some monstrous game with the rest of us less fortunate and wise HUMANITY here on the Earth-Planet; and these entities are labeled by Mountainpen's Morianity as TYPE-3-EXP, or for short, T-3-E. This has all been previously blogged and discussed, and quite often over the past nearly thirteen solid years now! Do I believe that in some parallel world out of countless and virtually limitless amounts of them, there is a doppelganger of numerous folks here, that indeed has these wild and strange T3E abilities? Yes I absolutely do, people. I won't make any bones about it. If that makes you feel and think that the Mountainpen is just a crazy delusional lunatic with a zillion psychotic features, well then that's your business, and you're entitled to your opinions. I know ******* better. Do I believe that my daughter has a doppelganger (double) somewhere in the vast fifth dimensional hyperspace? You bet your cornfields and your ass that I do,. Lovely Annie Costner!!!!!!!!! I know that my day over there in Northeast Philadelphia, just off of Grant Avenue, at the Throat-Specialists Office, could not be real, unless this was all true and legitimate. Still, believe whatever you wish, me peeps, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So now we come to it. Can Patty Hollister's great mysterious Fascitar information from 1974, lead to the headquarters of this fantastic and unfathomable ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society)? For that matter, lads and lassies; IS THERE any true origin or home (HQ) of the ESS? Dya see folks, just how this can build and build, even over shadowing the great pyramids of Giza eventually, yo? If this group is real, and think about it all for a second, since it is the only item that can literally answer every single question that has ever plagued the minds of the collective humanity for thousands and thousands of goddamn mother ******* years now; just how many questions could suddenly become thrust out of this new age, and new world, PANDORA'S BOX, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes for openers of all openers me people, yo; is there any true origin or place of hail or organized headquarters, to this wild and inconceivable group of I-Ching or Spirit-Travelers, that goes beyond the timeless Astral Plane of true existence (the purgatory)???????????????????????? Hey, we can go anywhere in goddess's mother ******* creation with this. For a quick example; was Jennifer Washburn 'overtaken' by a T3E just long enough to discourage me from showing-off my wild Crystal Lake Diner Rotisserie motion control, and aeronautic abilities, so as to prevent me from getting the necessary recognized attention, that would hopefully perhaps vindicate me and solve a lot of my persecution problems as the CHOSEN HUNTINGTON? You can rethink things that have no boundaries and no limits, BUT NOT in just three dimensions. We MUST FREAKING INCLUDE HYPERSPACE, or the parallel universes that make up an entire fifth dimensional STM fabric (Space-Time-Mind). If we eliminate this, then we all remain in the clueless darkness that HUMANITY HAS BEEN IN, EVER SINCE WE CRAWLED OUT OF THE MOTHER ******* SEAS, A VERY LONG WHILE BACK, YO!!!!

Well, I told you that I am using a new pharmacy, at least for now; and for this one medication, that totally and absolutely connects into the 1984 situation, with the Misses Mohr---it's not his problem throat doctor, as well as his wild lab-tech assistant who gave me the wild driving directions for getting there from the I-95 Highway, and of course the medical condition to start with, THAT WAS FORETOLD INSIDE MY MIND, and just as real and honest as any Biblical prophecies in the Holy Christian Bible, KJV or any other legitimate versions, yo yo yo yo!!!! Remember, it was in the middle autumn somewhere in 1982, approximately two thirds of a year before the event had actually occurred, and that voice non-audible but every bit as convincing, just spoke inside of me and said, “yo, just wait 'till the fourth day of next June, HA-HA-HA”! If I am lying, or making up any of these true tales and woes-wiz me's; then I hope the Almighty Goddess, SSJKK, burns me in HELL for all eternity, to use your backward ways of describing the tortures and torments that arise from angering this incredible entity that you may merely call, “GOD”. But back to the pharmacy and my major medication woes; me kind Blogaudians, yo! My stupid mother ******* psych place in Vero Beach, refused to alter my dosage strength. This makes absolutely no mother ******* sense at all. Literally, there is no rhyme nor reason for this doctor and this place to behave in that manner, and they call themselves, a behavioral health clinic? They had me so up set this morning, that I almost lost my mind. I even dialed 911 and asked how I can go about reporting ELDER-ABUSE! I even faked out like I was crying and unable to properly breathe. If I did not do this, I would be WITHOUT MY NECESSARY MOTHER ******* MEDICATION, and I have done nothing to deserve this monstrous mother ******* horrible situation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now you all know why I plan to leave this horrible mother ******* EVIL EMPIRE, FEE-FREE, or 'WHATEVER CONGREE'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Less than 24 months to go, and when I hit mother ******* age 66 years, on December the fourth of 2020, I AM SO MOTHER ******* TURD SWALLOWING 'ADDDAHERE'; MISTER BASEBALL HARRY KALLIS, YO YO YO YO YO! Don't get too damn excited now Mister Dice, and dude who murdered him. Right, sure, no connection whatsoever to my old 1980 red-light gun slinging record-promoter MISTER LENNY MCKINNON, HA-HA-HA, and I have a mother ******* lovely bridge to sell you in Brooklyn, New York; late disco diva Donna, with your golden chains, and motorcycle boy toy, of all great fantastic unknown tunes everywhere. How would Mister 1971 Mike McNulty put it right about mother ******* now, yo yo yo yo yo; AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE END.