Wednesday, January 2, 2019

BLOG 1 OF TWENTY NINETEEN








WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2019



1:53 POST MERIDIAN



BLOG 1 OF TWENTY NINETEEN













I've got fucking roaches all over the goddamn apartment no matter how much I spray the RAID or how clean I keep the place. I have the ILLEGAL GUESTS around here slamming the goddamn fucking doors today, kind Sheriff, sir. It's more fucking fun around here than Alice Ciminelli, and her barrel of jail bird American Honda guardhouse conversations, sent to the U.S. Copyright Office, on 1988's Valentine's Day monkeys!!!!!!!!!!!!! I believe that I have been hit with another health assault on top of this, Sheriff. Another horrible fucking year is beginning for me, oh wonderful kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, my heavenly and marvelous life, measured by the standards of anti-matter, is just making me so thankful and appreciative of the blessings that flow from such a wonderful fucking GODDESS, who sends songs in my sleep that altered my life, and so many grand and glorious fucking things! So thanks a lot, Almighty Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Karge Krassle, Sheriff K.J.M., and thanks a lot, DAVE!!!!!!!!!!! YARRRRRR, Patty Hollister, maybe me buckin' hat's on crooked or something. WOW-THAT!!!!





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Yes folks, we can definitely call that my Mountainpen's Morianity Quotation or (MMQ) or anything else you may wish to, as this won't alter the following truth: When the famous and terrific agents, mentioned in that wild and cool report-documentary on New York City's WPIX-Channel-11-television show, back in 1988 non-Spellchecker monkeys; Agents Condor and Agent Falcon, said that people who open up their mouth, and say things that are not allowed to be said; those people will not be able to get a moment of peace for the rest of their lives; how does this then fit into those who were on the receiving end of all of this horrible monstrous mother fucking turd swallowing junk, LONG BEFORE they ever uttered a single goddamn word? THAT, oh great SIR ROCKDROID of the original STAR TREK SHOW, is the real Shakespearean query of the ages, on kind peeps and loyal Blogaudians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes THAT is the question, Mister Bill Shakespeare, YO!











How I'll never ever fucking forget, ADA Ron Wirtz Senior, telling me how all of my damn answers to all of this nasty-ass mess; lays in the town of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Right after he told me this incredible fucking shit, kind Sheriff KJM sir, POW, “My goddess non son of Sam girlfriend”, came over to my apartment and raped me, and this led to the miscarriage of my younger daut, PEE! And then there was the wild dream a few years afterward, where I was back at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, and Paula came over to visit with me and tell me how I was too immature and that she refused to marry me, and that she had recently miscarried our child PEE. This is how transdimensional hyperspace works. We cannot go getting ourselves all fucking hung up on minor whittle details such as an event happening in one universe and not happening in another one that lies in localized hyperspace. No Spellchecker, the hypERCHRIST has absolutely nothing to do with any of this, OR DOES IT, come to reflect on it heredahelda and here, kind folks!!! I mean for crissake, it isn't every day that I am stopped and searched like a criminal by the authorities, for just sitting and telling a man about something from my childhood. But it sure happened that particular day in Medford Lakes, in the springtime of 1986. Maybe this is why the satanic demons of hellfire itself, struck Dave Roth and me so very hard, as after-all, it was directly following all of this, along with a tiny whittle detour through another Mister Rod Serling's Twilight Zone; called that special talk that took place in the spring time in the following year of 1986, at the Medport Diner, in Medford Lakes, New Jersey; regarding the “Great Sarah Krassle”. Along with these whittle pirate facts and YARRRRRRR's, and buckin' fuckin' pirate hats, I am wondering how Patty and her pal Santa are doing these goddamn days, yo????????????? But then, like who gives a fucking shit, to quote the kids who cuss?! Alligators or ALL I'M SAYING is that long B4I ever had a blog, or even shot off my mouth on RED-LINE-CROSSOVER topics, or said boo about shit; I have been given a no-peace persecution by these monstrous evil mother fucking HALLS-FAWCES. So it is not like anyone out here can go screaming into my ear, “Hey Mountainpen, this is all your own fault”, as my kid did about alligators, when I complained about all of these horrible things all over this place, and she said that I had made my bed and must now lay in it. Hey, she's totally right. Still, was this all my fault for real? Was this all my fault for REALE, for that matter? Was it me who teased you or you who teased me, every mother fucking time that I came down in 1997 to try and relax on the beach, and you tormented me with your sick demented evil WAYV radio station, oh mighty Patty-Paula?????????









WOW THISssssssssssssssssssssssssssss, Mizz Susan Erica AMC Snakes from 1983. Yes, Patty-Paula may very well be Sarah Krassle, or spelled with a fuller ASTRAL-PLANE name, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE. Yes there is pure magic in this incredible entity named Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle Sarah Krassle!







Why go to so much trouble doing al of these things, beginning with Misses Cooley Hall High Hell Marola, on Memorial Day of 1969, May 30th, and going all the way so far, up to the stunt pulled in waking life while I was at my non-choker Darius Evans Cifaloglio security job in 2009, two years before the transdimensional-choking deal, and right around the Lakehouse-choking deal, but yes, always (choking-1983 deals); with that WAYV magical stunt she pulled on me with the Regis Threat and magically getting me to tune into it from my car while on that job. Things like this JUST DON'T HAPPEN, not in any real life or real world, and not with this sort of endless fucking repetitiveness; and I know that you all know that, and I'm not being WAYV-cute heredahelda and HERE, yo! There was a night a few years earlier where I was at my trailer, #10 at the great and illustrious Mullica Mobile Manor of Mullica Township, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG; and watching one of those two famous magicians on television. I forget whether it was Blaine or Copperfield, but it was one of the David's. Tee-Hee-Hee. He told everyone out in the TV audience to think of a card. We all did, and HE GUESSED IT; and that would be a one in fifty-two chance; and I don't buy into chances, or long shots like that. Yes longer shots than this do indeed happen, and with more frequency than we all might think would be the case, BUTTTTTTTTT folks, I know that he did something, and I know that night at Cifaloglio with Patty-Paula, that she did that very same 'something'; and then things happened. Just because I am unable to properly explain it, I STILL AM ABLE TO FULLY REPORT IT to the goddamn mother fucking world, yo, and you can bet I do, and will go right on screaming out my pain. This monster and all of her FAWCES are behind it.









ENDLESSNESS AND END TRAnsdimensional!

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