BLOG
13 OF TWENTY NINETEEN
12:06
POST MERIDIAN
EARLY
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
19
JANUARY, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA
©
Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr--------2006-2019, BOM (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA
INTERNATIONAL
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I
could sure use the Russian's help after this horrendous three year
major fucking persecution. I'm with you cuzz, just more honest about
it, pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
©
Mark W. M. H. Mohr 2006-2019
New
BLOGS ON Blogger since December of 2011.
Old
BLOGS ON Blogger since January of 2006.
THIS
ETERNAL DOGTOWNITE:
Folks,
I am under the absolute mother fucking worst attack since this
nightmare all began between 1983
and 1986, in that beyond
weird, wild, and inconceivable time period somewhere. As with all
mysteries, even its origins are shrouded in ambiguities and unknowns,
and as said on more than one occasion in Morianity, this exact time
of origin just simply CANNOT BE DETERMINED!
However it is definitely between 1983 and 1986, as before this I only
had to deal with extremely mysterious HALLS-FAWCES,
but after this, and I do mean BIG ASS BUTTTTTTTTTTT-BUTTERCHEESE here
folks; yes after thisSSSSSSSSS Mizz Erica Cane Snakes of 1983, THAT
is when I have had to deal with the HUMAN REALM ENEMY that the Halls
Fawces caused me to FALL UNDER!!!!!!! These fucking bastards are not
missing a trick, all the hacks on this PC today are happening, from
not allowing me to make lines, changing my spot on the page, and so
on and so on and so mother fucking turd eating on, yo yo yo yo yo,
KIND SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR, of Saint
Lucie County, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky
Way Galaxy, NJUSAESMWG.
Speaking
of BIG-ASS BUTTS on early blogs, yes I made a fucking boo-boo.
I wrote the lyrics to that original 1983 song
called, “Girl I'll Tell You anything”,
as putting the letter D back before the letter B, when actually the
song lyrics went, “When
you put the letter 'C'
back before the letter 'B',
or put the letter 'G'
back before the letter 'D'.
But now's the time to make it rhyme, and not to do so is a crime, the
mountain tops are there to climb”,
or as SpellCHECKER wants me to say, “The
mountainpen something or other”, but that's neither heredahelda
here nor there, oh wonderful mighty Microsoft
Spellchecker. And as the great teenager from 1971, Mister Mike
McNulty would say right about now, people; “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”!!!!!
Yes speaking of the devil as the old human realm expression goes, and
BIG-ASS BUTTS and non-butter-cheeses; the late and not all that great
Mister Robert Heitzmann could chime in
here with a wild saying of his, made to me as a teenager when he
would get all pissed off at me and call me “Huckleberry
Finn” without any of Misses Messenger's lovely tasting with
lovely sugar added, ICE TEA!!!!! Then this fine outstanding cultured
gentleman would bellow out to me, and yes Spellchecker, all of my
stories are outlandish but they're all totally true and real yo, but
he would bellow out, “Jerry came from me, not the other way
around”. The same thing applies also
regarding the GREAT SONG/S, folks; so remember THAT, as well
as all BUTTERCHEESE STORIES from the land of
MEDICAL-OZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
here is what has been done to me Sheriff. Comcast
Cable began playing another one of their
mother fucking games with me yesterday, FRIDAY, 18 January. If
it is not another “Let's make the poor
bastard crazy Miss Nautblake from AT&T”,
then I don't fucking know what is. Beginning at around two in the
afternoon, yesterday, Sheriff sir, I am not allowed to use my three
arrow buttons on my remote control. They claim
I never should have been able to use them, and that this is a DVR
service, where you can pause a show or use the reverse and
forward buttons. Ever since I had the account,
I was able to use them. Now they claim that this never was a
viable feature. They almost had me totally
fucking believing that I had traveled into another PARALLEL WORLD,
and went from my sleep directly into this new world where most things
were the exact same as before, with the exception of this particular
Comcast Cable feature on my account package with them. They are
playing games with me. After I spoke with them, I unplugged my unit
from the power source and plugged it back in, and it worked again,
despite their telling me that it never worked
on my package and never will work, and that if I want this feature, I
must switch over to the DVR package that will cost me an additional
ten dollars monthly. Now every day they reboot the system at a
particular time, and the customer has no choice about this. We can
alter the schedule for this to occur, but “it
will be a daily happening”, to
quote Mister John Lennon of the great
NON-MCKINNON BEATLES ESS TERAVELERS of
1969; huh Mister fucking Ciprionni,
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo???????? Now when I
reboot after their daily update-reboot, it works again. This same
thing happened again when I woke up today. I try to use the feature
that I have had for two or more years under this new computer garbage
TV system, and I get a blue and white no-no-circle with the line
through it, saying that I cannot use this feature on this box. Again,
to remind my viewing Blogaudians, this just popped and pooped up out
of nowhere beginning yesterday at 2:00 P.M. Before that, this never
ever mother fucking cunt eating happened. If I am lying in any way or
making up one word of this nightmare fucking shit kind folks, I
hope and sincerely pray that the almighty goddess Jehovah BURNS MY
SPIRIT IN ENDLESS HELL FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND
EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not making shit
up, this is actually literally happening the fuck to me, Mister James
Tiberius Burr of Gloucester City, New Jersey, from 1975, yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now many times when I have had to reboot my
system due to their stupid ass fucking computer freeze ups and other
hacked bullshit, I know exactly what used to appear on my TV monitor
screen during the rebooting process. BUT NOW FOLKS, a brand new deal
is on the screen during the reboot. It used to come on saying WELCOME
and then lots of other screens would follow in regular exact
intervals, but ever since yesterday when this fucking shit started
happening to me, Bob McDowell former Chairman of the almighty
NON-BLUEBOOK Communications system called the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS
COMMISSION, and former great pal of mine from Jersey back in Dan
Mackey's class and Mildred Young's class, when our desks were right
next to each other at Cooley Hall High Hell, ALL BLACK
HAT WEARING HACKERS AND BLUEBOOKERS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO SHERIFF SIR; yezzir, when this shit started,
now I get the following print on my television screen, oh WONDERFUL
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION (FBI), AND AMERICAN CIVIL
LIBERTIES FUCKING CUNT UNION (ACLU): Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue.
This is beyond fucking outlandish, beyond inconceivable, and beyond
unfathomable, Sheriff Mascara sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then no other
shit happens until the screen pops on saying I am connecting to my
entertainment experience and then comes the normal broadcast signal
of whatever was on TV before the reboot, as usual. But the entire
reboot process has altered, and now, it seems; every single day, I
have to reboot after their fucking daily updated-reboot to the system
that is NON-OPTIONAL as was previously stated, and without doing
this, my three arrow button on my remote simply won't function any
longer in the way that they always had before. The Cable Comp[any
insists that this is not happening the way that it is, JUST
AS MISS AT&T BLAKE from the fucking New Jersey annoyance Caller
Bureau, back in 1983, insisted that no one could possibly be
on my telephone line when they had it disconnected from their system
during the line-trap that was being installed, but the almighty
mother fuckign Copyright Office knows this story only two cock
sucking well, kind Sheriff Mascara, sir!!! This is when SHE SAID TO
ME, impossible as Mizz Blake insisted, “I don't need this, no ho no
nothing”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Right Betty? Not Crocker, but
someone is pulling a big lode of Crocker Crock on me, huh Mister
BonJovi and Engineer Ryan, as if this is not the goddamn
quintessential Store High
In Transport,
then what the mother fucking SHIT
is??????? Sheriff Mascara, this is my own
goddamn fucking fault. I have been too
fucking scared to come over and beg you for help, as every law
enforcement official since this nightmare began, won't listen or
believe me at all, and treats me like
cunt eating fucking dogshit. If I don't screw up my
courage and at least try to ask you to help me, I am not going to
make it to get the fuck out of this evil empire when I turn age 66.
They won't allow me to make money, and my
bennies are not going to be paid to me if I run away to some south
American nation and away from this evil empire where these BLUEBOOG
MILITUFORCE evil bastards are persecuting me to death with this
endless mother fucking hell and harassment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You see people, and you too Sheriff if you're really out there;
before CONTACT was made, I was only under the effects of these alien
or HALLS FAWCES indirectly. But as I tried to tell Jim burr and was
totally unsuccessful at it, once the point was reached where contact
was made, and this would be through and by way of the PRIVECODE
MACHINE quite obviously, this is when I had to start dealing with
the HUMAN GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS of the world. BLUEBOOK has finally made
me see a truth that has mother fucking managed to elude me now ever
since this begfan, so guess what folks. For 13 years you have heard
me say I wish I could someday just jknow who is douing this to me,
AND FUCKING WHY they are doing this to fucking me, and NOW, FINALLY,
AFTER MANY FUCKING CUNT EATING GODDAMN DECADES, I
CAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Finally I understand. Thank
you great wonderful fucking HISTORY CHANNEL. Two marvelous
cable television channels have come to my rescue and verified
incredible fucking shit for me now, the A&E
CHANNEL, with the Donna
Gaines Summer 1968 music project shit, and the HISTORY
CHANNEL, with this BLUEBOOK
fucking shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U,
THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U,
THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK U, THANK-U, THANK-U, THANK
U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PRIVECODE
was somehow capable of emitting high energy
photons outside of its housing and into my room, and house,
upon several occasions. Even the goddamn fucking power company,
(Atlantic City Electric Company) told me that that machine gave an
off the scale reading of electromagnetic pulse energy, when they came
over to Patricia Meeker's rental home in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, to
make some electrical energy measurements for me after I had requested
it. Long story as short as possible, when I would slam down the
receiver of my desk-top telephone, in anger, from time to time, and
this phone sitting atop of the machine, I would sometimes notice a
bright tiny flash of energy coming out of the machine and flying out
into the room and seemingly dissolving away after a short time.
However, the night before my mom took ill with that mysterious
illness of her own, while we shared a home that I bought in
Somerdale, New Jersey, back in late August of 1996 and then sold at
the end of March in 1998 and moving into Guthrie Shorts mansion at
231 Route 73 South in Blue Anchor, Mister Russ Thaxton Onguard, I
woke up to get a drink of water and I noticed that those same tiny
dots of energy were literally flying across my walls at the same
level and height of my electrical recepticals (wall-outlets). Several
times I also observed that they appeared to be coming out of the
PRIVECODE MACHINE, and then making their way all around the upper
level to this split level home on Harvard Avenue at the intersection
of Yale Avenue. Do I believe that Lightning,
Bob McDowell becoming the FCC-Chairman,
just a kid who sat next to me in school but got me talking
about a calendar I had made, from
another orbiting celestial body, and he had
recorded our conversation on his tape recorder, and was
playing it back to me on the phone, back in 1973, before his family
left Gibbstown, New Jersey, to move to Fort Wayne, Indiana, or my
seeing an advertisement in a dental office
on the last month that I resided at 1802 Robin Hill for
this PRIVECODE MACHINE, and then my plugging it into my system
with other strange devices upon my moving out and into Jerry Pliner's
Atco rental home, are all just some random silly fucking cunt
coinkeedink??? NO SIR, NO SIR, NO SIR,
Mister Apollo-13-Blakenauts, and Little Opee Howard of Mayberry,
North fucking Carolina, yo yo yo yo yo yo. I DO NAUT believe that, I
DO NAUT believe that I DO NAUT believe that I DO NAUT believe that I
DO NAUT believe that, NAUT for a second, oh wonderful great
daughter!!!!!!!!!!! Yes I KNOW THAT I KNOW
that much, but not to sound quite as arrogant as MC, I'll still keep
on saying I KNOW WHAT I KNOW; huh radio
station fucking queen PAULA KING of
ATLANTIC FUCKING NIGHTMARE CITY????
Yes
someone had me going about being switched again into another mother
fucking parallel universe. I wasn't. Still, I
have a fucked up brand new cable problem, NOT A BRAND NEW KEY, lovely
Melanie Safka. Yes again peeps, that lovely hair shampoo
commercial girl from 1980 rears her adorable pretty head, you know,
when she used to make that face and then say,
“WRRRRRRRRRRONG”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
never ever forget anything, Mister Ciprionni, Mister McKinnon, and
Mister Peter Vitteritti of Pleasantville local governments, and
strange other-worldly-calendars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Johnny
Fucker-Faster; gimme' a break, Bob. Hey it was funny, but you used to
beat that poor old dead horse to goddamn death, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Well
Hat-wearing Bluebookers, you want to fucking keep hurting me and
making me crazy as mother fucking shit on a cunt chewing shingle
dooya? Well, here is my story about
BUTTERCHEESE and the Butterfield Pharmacy situation. Yes
Inspector fucking cunt Henderson, “Here's the Superman-Louigee
situation” kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You want mother fucking total
war with me MILITUFORCE, fine, here blows, yo! Only
my Walgreen's Pharmacy and no other pharmacy, had that so
called shortage of the one milligram
Lorazepam tablets that my TCCH Clinic prescribes. I
checked out other pharmacies, and all of them had this medicine, I
called CVS, and many other major chain pharmacies. But Walgreen's
insisted that this shortage is real, and that I could only get the
medicine I need at Butterfields. Which is almost a twenty fucking
mile round trip drive every month, and I don't need that, no how, no
nothing, AT&T, and DIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Even Butterfield
Pharmacy told me this was a fucking total lode of store
high in
transport, otherwise BonJovi known as
SHIT, butTERCHEESE BUTTTTT, and not shit on a fucking cunt shingle,
yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!! Now during the time of that nightmare
newest persecution in my life, I had fallen asleep one night, and
suddenly had found myself walking around a beautiful area with trees
and very bright green grass and lakes and flowing rivers, and came to
learn that I owned this place, and it was the headquarters for the
Starburn Outreach Development Corporation, or SODI, in Pennsylvania.
Before moving on further, the hackers have brought back an old and
extremely fucking cunt annoying hack, called the “SPACE-BAR-HACK”
where the space bar does not work that well and suddenly you look and
realize that the page is filling up with red squiggly lines because
there is no spacing in-between fucking goddamn ass words. But back
now to my true tales of hellishness and 'woewhizme's' from the darker
side of Mister Serling's Twilight Zone. Some type of similar shit is
going on with this type of bullshit with my medication, as is going
on with my cable television mother fucking service, or lack thereof,
may be a more appropriate and accurate way of putting it. Just
how this is all done by the WOMO-MILITUFORCES OF MISTER HALL, can be
thought of like thisSSSSSSSSS, Mizz AMC-Erica Cane-1983. Our
cosmos and world that we live on, as well as the vast expansion
surrounding it; is only partly made up of “atomic-stuff”;
to quote the great and late Doctor Carol Sagan.
No one really understood much, back in the Reagan years, and the
earlier disco years; just what the significance truly is to that
reality. Common sense tells me however, that once this is known
however, as it is today; we must realize that in the programming
creation inside of the PLANK-TIME or the (Purgatory) that exists
in-between zero dimensional singularity, and the dreamed out
(blown-out) fifth dimensional hyperspace that results from this
programming-creation force; there are seemingly
two separate operations, and one
leads to all of the atomic reality
dreamed out into the hyperspace, and another
one leads to all of the non-atomic
reality dreamed out into the hyperspace. Can however, these
two realities be mixed and merged, and married together,
at least every so often, in order to create all of the endless
unknown and crazy things that happen all around
us in our daily lives on a continuous basis, even though most
folks totally ignore all of thisSSSSSSSSS, Mizz Erica Spellchecker
from 1983???????????????????????????? This is
the absolute best explanation for how the MILITUFORCE
manages to manipulate the atomic world, that mortals must exist in
and through on a physical level, while awake and conscious to
SPACE-TIME-MIND
(STM)!!! PRIVECODE was only the two-way contact point for
me, as these strange jerk offs who were following me around even back
in the nineteen-sixties, knowing my time schedule and making comments
to me on public beaches, and all other such things already discussed
and blogged throughout these thirteen fucking years of Mountainpen's
Morianity. Hey peeps, you all go right on believing whatever you wish
to. But I do know that I have comfortably now solved these two
problems and Louigee-situations in my own fucking mind. THAT
WAS THE EQUATION ALL ALONG, LURCHROCK ANDROID and Nurse Roddenberry
Chappel!!! A major loud aerial assault
is happening as I speak these words at just shy of ten past two this
cunt eating fucking ass afternoon, or maybe I should say, this
disasternoon. WOW-THAT, Joanna
Hooker and Joann
from the mighty Blueberry Hill RPL Sound
Studio! Let's all laugh now at Ziggy's Fallen Jetty and
Mariah's Huntington Staircases. Hey, why not,
Mister 1969 book burning old friend,
Mister Thaxton??????????????????
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let's
now discuss another ILLEGAL HARASSMENT BEING USED ON ME, KIND SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA SIR, OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA,
USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been talking to a few
people in recent days, and I won't give out any further mother
fucking information than this, Sheriff, unless you come over here
personally, and tell me you want to help me to get to the bottom of
this nightmare. Then I'll release names to you, and you can verify
and check stuff out to your very heart's content. I am hiding
nothing, and Morianity is NOT a book containing secrets. All
Bluebooks and all covers will be blown B4 this fucking shit is all
over. BUTTTTT, and forget BUTTERCHEESE please, Spellchecker,
BIG ASS BUTTTT, I must do all I can to protect other innocent folks
from MILITUFORCE HARM, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes folks, I have been told now by three
different persons who I fully trust as they would have absolutely no
Earthly fucking reason to tell me a lie concerning thisSSSSSSSSS,
Mizz Erica. A major death angel assault is coming to me on my right
mother fucking side at 2:27 Post Meridian, kind Sheriff KJM SIR.
Also, a computer hacker is really totally fucking with my attempts to
freely blog and freely express myself and tell an honest and totally
true nightmare fucking story heredahelda and HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes as my 1988 song says, and my daughter confirmed, at or not on the
beaches of ACNJUSAESMWG, “I
AM HERE”!!!! Oh yes, I have BEEN TOLD, MIZZ MASHELL
RPL DANIELS, all right, just as she was, huh my old printing pal, and
overage file giver, Mister Mike Walters? WOW and WEEEEEEEE! Yes
folks, I have been told that the owners of the internet are stifling
me and my ability to get my story out, both at the BLOGGER site as
well as on the YOUTUBE site. Of course I totally just gave up with
YOUTUBE. I wasn't going to fight these world fucking dirt bag owners
when there is no chance of winning. It is their site, their rules,
and when they don't like you, forget it, you're not going to be
allowed to tell your plight, just like BLUEBOOK and the mother
fucking UFO coverup conspiracy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Absolutely no
difference whatsoever, yo, NONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I was just told yesterday
that when this person tried to look up 'MOUNTAINPEN'
on GOOGLE or BLOGGER, they only
were shown 'FOUNTAINPEN', and photos of
pens. This to me is total control as well as totally
illegal stifling of a person and his right to his true fucking story
on the internet. IF RUSSIA IS LISTENING, you guys were all totally
right all along,and both my cousin and I hope you are able to tell
the goddamn fucking world someday just how true this all is, yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!! HE GOT OUT OF ATLANTIC
CITY, MY FELLOW RUSSIAN CITIZENS; HE SAW
THE MOTHER FUCKING CUNT EATING HANDWRITING
ON THE WALL, AND WAS SMART ENOUGH
TO ESCAPE THE POWERFUL ALMIGHTY PINK GODDESS
PAULA KING, AND HER MIGHTY QUEENS, THE
KING FAMILY OF ALL ENDLESSLY TRAPPED INSIDE VOID FIELDS AND 1983
LOOPED COPYRIGHTED SONG LYRIC MATERIAL, YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!
Yes
people, someone or something DOES LITERALLY OWN THE FUCKING INTERNET.
I promise you that, (IPYT). If they can stop me from being read by
the majority and ever catching on with this powerful fucking tale of
truth, then THEY WIN, and you all someday if not already, will be or
ARE, their total fucking slaves. You;re all just so fucking cunt
dumbed down that you remain absolutely clueless to this truth that
exists all around you, and you just hear the endless lies inside of
your mind that Mountainpen is just a fucking totally insane and
delusional whack job nut case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well Ice
Tea knows some truths,at least he does as 'character FINN aniwho.
Don't be so quick to judge, we all may be in the Fruit-loops Club, an
just not yet be fucking ass aware of it, yo
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Yes Sheriff sir, these enemy fucking turd
swallowing prick bastards have this “space-bar-hack” on full
fucking force. My blog is one huge continued printing, and I need to
go back and fix tons of fucking errors and shit as a result, more
stifling, huh SHERIFF KJM, sir??????????????????????? You can bet on
it, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!
THE
888 YEAR SECRET:
In
the Purgatory or on the Astral
Plane, we have a period of elections that are held every
9,000-MK or Mininna-Kalpa. Mininna
is a termed used in Province Olympia and
many surrounding provinces on all six sides of us, that literally
mean a fraction of one nine-thousandths of
something. Kalpa is an
approximated measurement of averaged out types of various virtually
infinite interactions that if happening while alive on the Earth
Planet, would appear to be something that feels like it lasts
8,000,000 years of time. Remembering
that time as we know it as human beings,
simply is not real in truth, or on this
Astral Plane called Purgatory,
by the great Roman Catholic Church.
Elections are held every KALPA, and this is way too hard to
understand an averaged interaction of total combined 'seeming like
time' event. But none the less, it is real and it is truth. We have
what you could think of in English mortal world terms and verbiage,
as the Astral World Authority or the
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, (AWA).
They are the ones who do these elections, or those responsible so to
speak for the entire process. This great AWA is
even discussed in NEW TESTAMENT CHRISTIAN BIBLE HOLY SCRIPTURES, by
the LORD JESUS CHRIST HIMSELF. He talks about not
calling your brothers fools, or else you'll be in danger from this
Millionth Council, that the LORD shortens to just “THE COUNSEL,
but grab any KING JAMES BIBLE
(KJB) and read all of this for yourselves. It is right in there in
the four gospels at the start of the great New Testament, yo yo yo
yo!!!! Now one third of this ASTRAL WORLD
AUTHORITY OR (AWA) IS CALLED the BRIGGBASE, and is run by the
human being who lives and dreams right here and now, as the 45th
President of the United States of America, Mister
Donald John Trump. He in his true form, and I, go back
vigintillions of mother fucking years,
if you want to even make the stupid ass fucking attempt at measuring
it in numbers and time. Probably the term of
googalplex is closer to being accurate, although no human
number would ever perfectly suffice. IPYT folks! The other part of
the AWA is called the SDKM or the Sahasra Dal
Kanwal Majority. This is exactly two
thirds of the groupation, while the BRIGGBASE
RESIDENTS represent the remaining other one third of them.
All of this Astral-Plane information has previously been typed and
blogged on my Morianity, upon numerous previous times and on many
prior blogging texts, from 2006 through the present times. The
Sahasra Dal
Kanwal Majority,
exist in the great Capitol City of the entire Province Olympia. Dal
in Purgatory has numerous meanings, and is quite ambiguous, but one
of those numerous meanings are CITY or CITY OF. Speaking of the
Capitol City where Mister Mortimer Mortino has
a lovely condo on 363,363rd
Street, Palariver Drive, and
Transformation Avenue, and is AKA, in
waking human Earth Planet lingo, the (Angel Of
Death), he is passing by my mother fucking left side at
exactly 3:10 P.M., folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Butt, big ass but, and
butTERCHEESE yes that too, shall we now get
back on 'PERNT', Mister Archibald Bunkerqueens? DAL
is CITY OF, Sahasra is SARAH, and
Kanwal is KRASSLE, when converted out of
the Earth English Languages and properly translated into the Astral
lingo of Province-Olympia. This Capitol City that mortal religious
folks call HEAVEN for short, and
other numerous Earth-Planet waking mortal world names, is SAHASRA
DAL KANWAL, and the middle of things there is considered
complete or in whole, where we mortal dreamers out here in the 5th
dimensional hyperspace get our translated ideas and concepts of the
term, “HOLY”!
As I speak-type this message now folks, that annoying very low
fucking flying private airplane is nearby again, this time at 3:19
P.M. And now at 3:20, Mortimer Mortino is back again as well, and
passing by my mother fucking right side, and annoying me. Middle or
points of center are very HOLY in Purgatory. Even
in DOGTOWN, across the great Teck
Bay from the HOLY CITY-SDK; things are considered quite holy
and magical if they are CENTRERED or
balanced, and this is why all of the lower creation
responds to BALANCE, that exists inside of the elusive and ever
mysteriousness of polarities; you know, the
north and the south poles of electromagnetism that makes up
our entire star-stuff part of Sagan's Cosmos, yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! The owner and boss of
the mighty fucking BRIGGBASE, whose name has more than eight hundred
letters, but here, humanly in present times is Trump, is a very
active entity in political affairs. I of course knew back in 2013 and
2014 here in mortal human existence, that as a result of this truth,
and what he said once on a television show back in the late eighties
about his political views, aspirations, ambitions, and so forth, was
going to absolutely lead him to run for the office of the Presidency.
I also knew that in the entire history of the United States, there
never had been a woman, and there never had been an independent who
won over a Democrat or a Republican, at least not in the twentieth or
twenty first centuries, so when Bernie Sanders and Hilary Clinton
were the hope of this Lambrigger losing the election, I knew we all
were fucking sunk long before even 2015 had hardly begun. I play
odds, and this made me $9,200.00 in the Atlantic City casinos in
1986, so I know WHAT I KNOW. Oh yes
mighty Mr. Spellchecker, I am KNOwledgeable,
and another fucking DEATH ANGEL IS STRIKING ME
AT 3:29, on my fucking goddamn right side, this is three now
since this blog began, yo yo yo yo yo!!!! This is getting fucking
monotonous, as well as extremely annoying; Mister
Curly Howard of the great 3-STOOGES! I can hear that fucking
base drum now when Moe punches him in the gut.
WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is nothing like those
fucking three guys, and there never ever will be, YO!!!!!!!!! Oh yes
folks, the great politician of Purgatory. Please don't abbreviate
that into POP, or to please Spellchecker, into POPULARITY either,
although, this genius is a zillion mother fucking times smarter than
any one of you out here thinks he is, even fucking you, Mister Genius
Putin who thinks you're just gonna' fucking pull puppet strings when
this is all over and take over America forever, NOT
GONNA' HAPPEN MISTER POUTEN SIR, not gonna' fucking happen,
sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So put that in your hat, Vladimir, kind
sir. I think I should know a wee little bit more than you about this
wild character-entity from the endlessness of fucking ass
Purgatory!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
----------------END
TRANSMISSION------------
Mark Wayne 'Mountainpen Huntington' Mohr
©
Mark W. M. H. Mohr 2006-2019
New
BLOGS ON Blogger since December of 2011.
Old
BLOGS ON Blogger since January of 2006.
THIS
ETERNAL DOGTOWNITE,
AND
THIS HUMAN-HYBRID, WITH THE
Blood
type--A neg. & Eye color--green-hazel
IS
NOT SIGNING OFF QUITE YET,
FOLKS!!!!!!
We
can always get back to Mister Jim Rockford, and his troubles, and
beat ups, as well as my own hell and nightmares, and also my
GLANDULAR
CHOKE STORY OF 1983,
AND
HOW IT FITS SO WELL INTO ALL OF THE UFOLOGY
AND ALL OF THE
HUNTINGTON FAMILY,
and since my horrible mother fucking enemies who won't give me a
moment's WPIX-TV-NYNY
peace, Agents
Condor & Falcon;
poured it on all day long, and all week long, with major telephone
persecution, major ILLEGAL-GUEST
door slammers, NON-ENDING
FUCKING ROACHES
as a result of course, and continual other major assaults, from
health, and body, and death strikes on me; to every mother fucking
conceivable item ever discussed in thirteen
cunt eating years
of BLOGGING
& MORIANITY; then this is a perfect time to continue along with
thisSSSSSSSSS,
Mizz SpellCHECKER Erica
Cane AMC Snakes,
yo!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA KING DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!
Old
and new testament Bibles, whether it be the Morianity one or the
Christian one; we must examine both, in order to properly understand
the matters that are being discussed; me kind lads and lassies.
HEREdahelda,
AND HERE ARE THE LINKS TO THE OLD!
BLOG
12 OF TWENTY NINETEEN
12:20
ANTE' MERIDIAN
EARLY
FRIDAY MORNING
18
JANUARY, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA
©
Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr--------2006-2019, BOM (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA
INTERNATIONAL
BLOG POPULARITY, IN GREEN-COLORED SHADE
RATIO:
People
are so incredibly easily controlled and manipulated, it is totally
freaking pathetic. DON'T
COUNT ME OUT YET; MEN IN BLACK!
As I said many times before, if a person with this knowledge can
effect real items in a real gaming hall, then
this same influence or power can be created,
using this similar subatomic numeration matching of spooky-fawces,
Sir Einstein; to do many other things as well. Am I right, Mister ten
moves Raymond Young, from 1988? I'll
give you some fucking Chinese water coolers, AND put you to sleep,
you
and Robert
McGuire.
I may even give you six
mother fucking I-Ching wands,
and then you can come over to 601 Avenue B, rather than me coming
over to fucking rotten ass Tennessee Avenue, on or off any and
alligators-ALL
“SO SAHWEE” Mister Ambassador Pearl
Harbor Days.
No, there is no mother fucking delicious Buttercheese in here folks,
butTERCHEESE BUTTTTTT, I don't like either of those two food groups,
unlike my mother and my daughter who would kill you for them, yo!
Those
mother fucking dudes at that Camden bus stop back in those 1969
hippy dippy days of the bygone times, oh well, Annie, with or without
your damn ass gun sweetie pie; I got tired of those creeps following
me around in their stupid ass hats.
Again, this is what blog-links are posted for. If you are not sure
what is being fucking said, USE
THEM.
Go back and read the fucking beginning of my story, as I
did not forget
to tell any of it, yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All
fucking day long, Sheriff sir,
I have put up with and endured harassing
telephone calls from 'illegal' caller-ID-spoofers,
slamming
fucking 'illegal' nabe doors,
ROACHES
on a non ending roll as a result of this bullshit from these fucking
ass bastard 'subskummites', a word that was coined by the late Mister
David Charles Roth,
and also, continuous other bullshit, health
hits,
fire
alarms;
it never ever ever never never ever stops; to quote the wonderful and
great recording artist, Mizz
Diana Ross!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let's
discuss communications,
the hat
wearing LAMISTS who
followed me all around back in the sixties for no Earthly reason, Bob
McDowell my old pal
from the great illustrious Cooley
Hall
High
Hell,
and my 'ever since 1983' never
ending telephone harassment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It, as all things indeed do, FITS
TOGETHER
PERFECTLY,
LIKE A SMOOTHE MOTHER FUCKING GLOVE, SLIDING ACROSS THE THY OF A
GORGEOUS YOUNG FASHION MODEL LADY!!!!!!!!! Some
fucking annoying cum-puke-her hacker dirt bag prick,
is really screwing with my fucking mouse, and my ability to speak,
under the First
Amendment
of the United
States Constitution,
KIND SHERIFF
KENNETH
J.
MASCARA,
SIR,
YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
entire mother fucking power structures of this nation fully know my
plight,
and they know it
is all real and true,
and they are actually making what I already am forced to goddamn
fucking suffer through with this CHOSEN-HUNTINGTON-CURSE,
far
far far far far far WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This brings me back to 1983, and something that I spoke to my ex-pal
Mister
Jim Burr about.
He of course was
blinded to this truth,
as everyone is blinded to so many fucking truths, just as is foretold
and warned of in our
great and mighty HOLY-SCRIPTURES,
from our lovely and awesome TEEN
GODDESS JEHOVAH,
(SARAH-STACEY
JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE).
So what was this thing that I spoke of to Jim Burr, you ask me? Well,
it has been told and blogged before, and exists on my
taped-life-journal
as well, if anyone has these cassette tapes that I of course was
forced to lose, THANKS TO THE MIGHTY
DIRTHOLE KING CLAN;
whether Russ
from CHHH
believes this or not. I said to Jim, after he told me how SATAN
was ruining my life with his horrendous fucking oppression, and
tricks straight out of hell, applied against me day and night; that
I fully believe that he no longer is doing what he used to do, and
has now managed to get the world to do his bidding against me, so
that he can move on and do other shit in these END
TIMES,
as the Christians call them. Jim did not believe this, but I was
right, as I just about always fucking am. After-all folks, I am the
one who is goddamn fucking living inside of my shit eating shoes,
not you. If I don't know, then who ever does or will for
crissake-crissafulli Spellchecker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You see
peeps, taking thisSSSSSSSSS Erica, and all non-Erica's everywhere,
along with the Ancient
Astronaut Theorists (AAT)
concepts of the aliens & ufology stuff, place them in a neat
little fucking package, along with Bob McDowell becoming the CHAIRMAN
of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION
(FCC); would be enough right here to mathematically prove to anyone
that the odds that Mountainpen is just a delusional whack job nut
case in all of his wild fucking claims, would be staggering beyond
anyone's ability to grasp, somewhere around 35 septillion to one.
(35,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000).
That is quite a fucking number. BUTTTTTTTT and yes BUTTERCHEESE BIG
ASS BUTT FOLKS; it doesn't stop there, it only starts there. Then
there is the endless phone harassment, the wild musical tape, well,
really, both of them, but I am speaking of the one that none of you
most likely have heard, unless you have visited the United States
Library of Congress © Office, and managed
to listen to a 1983 music project that I did from my Atco days,
and the great United
States Air Force
(Milituforce)
system knows what's getting said. As
stated in the LOIS-FOCA crying crap on Jefferson Street
in Camden, NJUSAESMWG in 1981, I know for a fact that matter
cannot be sent in antimatter time,
butTERCHEESE BUTT, I
do know that spirit-energy can indeed be reversed,
as
an unexplainable sudden burst of emotion,
be it fear,
happiness,
or sadness
of great intensity,
and for absolutely no
discernable rational logical fucking reason!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But
when we get those ambivalent feelings that we all get where we are
undecided about something, what is that all about? Is that part of
hyperspace equation or does it have more to do with our spirit going
back into our past-selves? Well, here is the kicker with this.
Hyperspace only exists because the part of the SPACE-TIME-MIND
FABRIC
that is TIME,
causes this fifth dimensional part of itself to spring forth. There
is no time without hyperspace, and there is no hyperspace without
time. Just as there is no space or time of any real truth, WITHOUT
MIND. Quantum Physicists think of it as the
reality of things not coming forth out of the fuzzy indecision
realm, until we observe and focus upon it.
Instead of this, a much simpler truth is that 'MIND', or our
observation of an otherwise fuzzy indecision realm is merely another
piece or part of a whole-pie so to speak. The observation is just
MIND as one of the three parts of truth, space and time and mind, and
even though the great sir Einstein made us take a quantum leap into
seeing this as space-time, it is very incomplete still, and needs to
be seen as STM. An even simpler truth is Mother-Daughter-Electron,
which the macho male controlled/dominated society sees as the reverse
gender of FATHER-SON-HOLY
SPIRIT.
Without the ELECTRON,
our MIND
would be dead.
An electroencephalograph merely measures brain activity as electrical
impulses that either are or are not passing around inside of it. When
DIANA/Electricity is not active in the human brain, we are brain
dead, and by the medical standards we all live by, we
ARE DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
we are dead, this is the end of the world, for us. We don't observe
the Space-Time-Mind physically.
We
are at C-Squared now,
or “in the spirit”, to quote the great Holy-Scripture.
So
moving out of 1802
Robin Hill Apartments
where I
resided from May of 1980 through January of 1983,
took me as you all know by now, to 134
Norris Avenue, Atco, New Jersey,
on the first day in February of 1983. I moved in there, plugged
in my PRIVECODE MACHINE,
along with several other devices in a line, including Magnesonic. But
later on, I built a larger model Magnesonic, when I had that house in
the Kramer Hill section of Camden, and had a place to construct this.
Leave your snakes behind, please, Erica, thank you about
thisSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!
As soon as I came to this place, out of nowhere, a strange caller
began harassing me, and there was no way to ever stop it or to find
out just who it really was. One day in May, while totally
disconnected from the AT&T phone lines, I received the call that
was right out of the fucking Twilight Zone. Most of you know about
this call. But to this very fucking day, this same entity is there.
THERE IS
NO ESCAPE FOR ME,
and I know THAT!!!!
Instead
of the fucking government wanting to help me, well,
you've seen it now for two weeks on the HISTORY CHANNEL at 10 PM.
This is what they've done to me too, and I can't wait to see just how
much this show will be able to tell before
the Dan Curtis plug gets pulled on them too,
by the hat
wearing following fucking LAMISTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
My
entire fucking life has been about this communication between THEM
and ME.
I do not know whether this is because of the HUNTINGTON CURSE or
NUAT, Mizz AT&T ASTRO-BLAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do
I believe that there is a chance in a fucking gillion-zillion that
things can all just happen like this out of some incredible random
chance? Hey, no more than our wonderful fucking authorities out there
do. And if they didn't believe that something wild is up, then they
wouldn't be acting so strange and screwy about it themselves. That is
simple nine year old logic for fucking ass
crissake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now
Patty indirectly gave me a wild item called the “FASCITAR”.
This allowed me to take journey's
to the Astral-Plane
and see a lot of this for myself.
This is where all of these Hat Wearing 'LAMISTS'
come from, and they use the centers of physical galaxies called BLACK
HOLES, to travel back and forth from the PURGATORY
to the HUMAN
FUCKING REALM!
But is Patty one of them, and is she PAULA KING? Is she playing this
game of distraction for reasons that Morianity has discussed numerous
times on the BOM? Mike
Gutherman
knew that everyone, and it seems, even the items that I come to own,
have this strange property to them; that being around me seems to
cause them to have polarity-effects
to an extreme
and unfathomable
measurement.
In the case of my former resident-manager Mister Mike Gutherman, he
was wiped out.
After
I had given him some items that I had owned,
he suddenly lost
his wife,
his
apartment,
and his
fucking job,
all at once; in some wild beyond Star Trek Twilight Zonish way that
is totally inconceivable on steroids, even to the Mountainpen. But
Bob
McDowell
went onto become the Chairman
of the FCC.
My daughter became the greatest
female recording artist in human history.
Bob Andrews went onto become a
great Federal Congressman,
and the list goes on and on!!!! 'The'answeristheqyuestion
and 'the'
reality about this
powerful powerhouse effect of extreme
polarity,
has
no human rational explanation,
BUTTERCHEESE
BUTT folks, all SpellCHECKER systems aside,
one thing is more certain and real here than 1+1=2. That is that this
cannot be imagined. “I am not imagining any of this”, Mister
Arthur Crane, from Thompson Consumer Electronics. When
I come over to your office on Midway Road next week, kind
Sheriff Mascara sir;
I will bring you some shit that will TOTALLY
FUCKING BLOW
YOUR
MIND!!!!!!!
There is no way you'll be able to pull a 1994 James Comey on me.
Where are you when I mother fucking need you, Mister Ron Wirtz Senior
of the CAMDEN
COUNTY PROSECUTORS OFFICE
OF CAMDEN COUNTY, NEW JERSEY?????????
So
yes; here are just a fucking few whittle ass examples of how
those demonic HALLS-FAWCES
make people act weird with me, for absolutely no rational or
logical fucking reason WHATSOEVER, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!
Tom
Glenn the great musical arranger who went onto do many
great things with his talents, even for the wonderful National
Football League, whom our great leader is determined to stick his
nose so endlessly into their bizz, but me
pernt, Mister Bunkerqueens sir is THISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! I
wrote a nice whittle tune about two months after I had written my
first song as a teenager, and this first one was, “That's
The Way It Goes”, and this second one that was written in
middle July, after Misses Kinsel had evicted me for shouting out
curse words and many complaints had come in, but that tune was
called, “Burn With Fire”. I
wrote the goddamn song, hoping that Patty would sing it for me
someday. She never did, but that's the
way it goes, I guess, pun intended. So when the musical
arranger, Mister Glenn, was over at my apartment, #1802 Robin Hill,
on that day early in the year of 1981; he was
convinced that I was a cock sucking fagot, because the song lyrics
were written for a female vocalist. Many songs are
specifically written for a male or a female artist/vocalist to do,
and I was not by any stretch, the first person
on this miserable ass Earth-Planet, to do so, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!! But still, he was
convinced, and he let me know it. I could harp on and on with all of
these four items, but how about we just move it along and say the
brief basic stuff on each one, so we don't end up typing-reading a
hundred ass stupid pages of details that won't really matter to a
fucking soul by next week, yo? The second item here of these four, is
about the great disco diva, Mizz Donna Summer. Back as a teenager
when she was Donna Adrian Gaines, she went to Munich, Germany, and
she did a wild musical project that no one ever knew about, and no,
it wasn't very good, but anyone should have known it was her, and
yet, everyone told me, no Mark, it isn't her.
BUTTERCHEESE and BIG ASS BUTT MISTER FUCKING
MICROSOFT SPELLCHECKER, I knew what I knew, and I was proven
right, back in 1995, early in the year,
by the world famous cable television channel, “Arts
and Entertainment” Channel,
now and for quite some time, just known as “A&E”.
Lots of
fantastic COP-SHOWS
are also on that great station, since just about all
the other stations removed these wonderful cop-shows. My
new absolute fave is of course, A&E's super great show,
“LIVE-PD”!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, let's move mother fucking on here. On this one particular
show, it actually showed footage of the day
that Donna Gaines, B4 she was Donna Summer, doing that very
project, that I had, when I was given those wild records from
the RPL-Overage file, by Mister Mike
Walters, the company printer, back
in the year of 1980. I knew I was fucking right, but
nobody would believe me. BUT I WAS
RIGHT, and it WAS HER all fucking cunt along, yo yo yo yo
yo!!!! Then the third out of these four items would be THISSSSSSSSSS,
Mizz Susan Erica AMC Lucci Snakes, from 1983, 'SSSSSSSSSSSS'!!!!
All my life, I have met extremely and very
unusually physically strong females, fully grown, teenaged, and even
pre-teens. I mean these goddamn girls and women would have
even made the great, and now late, Mister
fucking STAN
LEE
sit up and take major notice. But all my goddamn fucking life,
from my own parents, to everyone around me, told me, “Mark
you're an asshole
because they're not strong”. I could blog details, and tell
literally dozens of tales that are all true, so
help me GODDESS SSJKK, and sworn under flag and
citizenship and for that matter, under the full pains and penalties
of Perjury!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I won't waste your time on this one
blog giving specifics. I could list shit from heredahelda, however;
and IPYT, me kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The most recent
elucidation here was blogged many times earlier this decade, and
after I said something, the news people immediately stopped showing
the story forever. Until I made a big ass deal of it and blogged it,
they discussed it quite a lot, so allow me now to refresh some of the
memories, especially Floridians, as this event took place in fucking
Florida. Anyhow, it seems that a college boy
had hired a prostitute to provide him with her feminine duties,
and when she had completed her services, he could not or would not
pay her. She killed him with her bare hands,
and she was a big powerful girl. I could say so many things it isn't
funny, but no one will ever listen to my truths, even WHEN THEY ARE
RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, AND SIMPLY CANNOT BE
FUCKING CUNT DISPUTED, YO YO YO YO, ME
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Finally folks, we come to item number four.
Everyone or 99.99 percent of anyone who reads this true and powerful
Earth fucking shaking story called Mountainpen's Morianity scoffs and
laughs, and totally refuses to believe a fucking word that I say. I
could literally perform a resurrection in front of them, or jump
right over Mizz lovely Jennifer Washburn's Providence Road House in
Atlantic City, and I am disbelieved and ignored as if I am the
epitome of the fucking Bubonic plague. Again peeps, I
know what gives here, and I will type it in again, and again,
AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!
You most likely already know how the next line reads, but look and
verify it if you wish to!
HALLS
FUCKING FAWCES! That's what
gives!
Well
I got my shopping all done yesterday, over at my local Public Grocery
Store. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! There
were a lot of mother fucking screw ups all day long. I had a major
mother fucking klutz out last goddamn night spilling a bowl of
fucking Chicken-Ala-Paula all over my
fucking bedspread, and the harassing telephone calls went on all day
until I just took the cunt eating phone off the goddamn hook. This
phone fucking shit has been real bad again, kind
SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA, KIND
SIR!!! My mother fucking jerk off ILLEGAL
DOOR SLAMMER GUESTS ARE HERE TO STAY. They normally stay for
one to two weeks and then are gone about a week or so. All I can do
is tough it out, and I am saving to move out of this fucking
nightmare hell-hole, Sheriff, sir. Another mother fucking
WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Yes
that BLUEBOOK TV SHOW is vely
vely vely non-McDowell intelesting, from heredahelda and from here to
Cooley Hall High Hell. Death angels are off the scale too, folks. I
have had two now just since beginning this cock sucking blog a dozen
minutes ago, and yesterday it went on all mother fucking day, and I
counted more than three dozen of these fucking pass-bys. To quote me
as a kid, with my old camp counselor at Northeast, Maryland in July
of 1967 and again in July of 1968, “THIS IS
RIDICULOUS” for crissake, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! But Back to
BLUEBOOK now. It is beyond mother
fucking totally ashame that our own government has to act
thisSSSSSSSSS way, huh Mizz Erica Snakes of 1983,
speaking of the great “CONTACT-YEAR”, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO.
Instead
of them wanting to help those innocent peeps whose only fucking crime
was “being at the wrong place at the wrong
spring of 1985 Dave Roth Medport Diner Sarah Krassle time”,
THEY BRUTALLY FUCK WITH US AND OUR LIVES. SO WHY? Well, do I
look like fucking God with all of the mother fucking answers; kind
peeps, yo???????Don't fucking ask me, because I verily don't have a
goddamn Sherlock Holmes clue, me good ol'
braHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We can try to examine this a
bit and do some fucking super-sleuthing around, and then only hope to
be onto a little bit of the fucking dogshit,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
told how I had written a book in my late teens, another Mountainpen
fictional 'TPB' book I suppose. It was called, “Mega-water 1983”.
The PHASE-4-ENTITY who was using to me to this, is a story all its
own, but that can be saved for later on some time. So just why would
someone's own mother pull the fucking shit that mine did, regarding
that book, is another story all its own. Still, I suppose that my
mother was the quintessential suigenerous person when it came to why
she did say as well as never did say, certain major things, in the
grand scheme of life, huh Mister Spears of the great now Inchcape,
and back then, Lavino Shipping Company? No Emily wasn't why my mom
drank, just as Tommy said to me over at the JFK Horse Pistol the day
after Christmas in 1997, while my mom lay in that coma and was half
upside down in that weird medical contraption. My mom never told me
about ALLigators or quite appropriately here
Mister Microsoft SpellCHECKER, ALL of her great and meaningful
telephone calls, huh Mister fucking Orwell?????????????
Standing nude, Mister
Rip Off Town, huh Copyright Examiners of those wonderful and
marvelous fucking older days? And I thought nana's were supposed to
be nice people. WOW-THAT,
Planet-Earth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh yes folks, MEGAWATER-1983 and then
came eleven years later for real, and MY
WILD MEDICAL CONDITION that has plagued my entire adult
life, since the age of contact-28 years,
huh Mister Vulcan fucking Spock Nemoy, yo???? But again, CONTACT
was really more along the lines of December of
1969, huh Mister government coverup conspiracy Project
BLUEBOOK gang, yo yo yo yo bro?????????
At the exact time that Sarah Krassle
gave me that incredible unfathomable
chain-swipe 'dreaming interaction', in December of 1969,
PROJECT
BLUEBOOK
was 'TERMINATED'; Mister Governor Arnie Cali!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No,
NOT FUCKING ARNIE CALLIO, MIZZ GORGEOUS HAIR VICTORIA FROM JULY OF
1970!!!!!!!!!!!!
To
quote my great-late pal, Mister Roth right about now, “Ain't
life grand”??????? Well I suppose it is for some folks, such
as President Donald John Trump.
We're not all that blessed and lucky in this cosmic game,
CUZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HERE
IS A LITTLE SOUND BITE FROM THE PAST:
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 64
JUMPING
KITE FLYING SS-JEHOVAH KRASSLE, MY OLD PAL, FCC CHAIRMAN, FROM
MY DAYS WITH YOU, IN DAN MACKEY'S CLASS IN
1972, AT COOLEY HALL. REMEMBER THOSE GREAT JOKES YOU TOLD ME,
BACK WHEN DAN MACKEY SAID THAT YOU WOULD GROW
UP AND BE A MAN SOMEDAY, WITH JOHNNY FUCKER FASTER, AND LOTS MORE?
WOW; AND THEN THERE WAS THE OPPOSITE END OF THE COOLEY HALL, OUT THE
DOOR AND UP HOPKINS LANE JUST A LITTLE BIT AWAY FROM THE WEIRD PLACE,
CALLED LILLY'S LILIPUTIAN LIVERY. WELL, I DO
NOT THINK IT IS WEIRD ANY MORE, MISTER GULLIVER. IT ALL FITS LIKE A
MOTHER FUCKING GLOVE, RIGHT IRANIAN 1968 SHAH, SIR??????????
RIGHT LATE AUNT GERALDINE SNOW MASON?????? WO!!!!!!!!
YOU
BETTER ALL LEAVE ME ALONE OR I WILL WIPE OUT THIS ENTIRE FUCKING
PLANET; YOU COCK SUCKERS OUT HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Story Image: A baby is well
dressed in layers to keep warm during winter. (Andrew Vargas,
Wikicommon Images)
More
Your 5 Day Forecast
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
MON
Partly Sunny
65°/42°
TUE
Sunny
62°/42°
WED
Partly Sunny
68°/48°
THU
Partly Cloudy
72°/62°
FRI
40% Chance of
BOY
OH BOY, AM I WORKING HARD, CLEANING MY BATHROOM, KITCHEN, AND GENERAL
OVERALL APARTMENT AREA. IT WILL TAKE A WEEK TO GET IT PERFECT
IF I DO NOT WISH TO KILL MYSELF ON ANY GIVEN DAY. THIS IS FOR MY
ANNUAL PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY INSPECTION ON THE FIRST.
During
this period of cleaning, I may have less and shorter blogs and
messages. Once my lease is reactivated for another year, I will have
time to get into some really wild shit. One week following my annual
inspection, is my lease signing day, Monday the eighth of good old
month #2. This is six days following Phil from Punksatoney Pennsy,
and his famous asinine winter-shadow prediction. And then they call
me a lunatic wacky crack-pot. Like-WOW, to quote the kids!!!!!!!!
Well
peeps, the long and short of it all, is that we do not decide to
build a MAGNESONIC. MAGNESONIC
decided it wanted to get built, and it used a human being in the
multiverse, me; to create and build it. Until my followers can
learn these truths are real, and awesome and powerful and outlandish
and unfathomable yes, but totally fucking true, well; forget about
ever being really truly free, my friends. Freedom is not taken from
us by masters, but is lost to us by our refusal to believe ''magic''.
To take this incredible saying spoken to me two thousand and fifty
one years ago by Mister Plato, not that far from Vatican City today
as it stands; I am shouting here on a street corner, with my space
cadet hat plainly on my head, and my jump suit with the word Roswell
on it all dark red and scribbled like blood drops, and the world
walks by, crosses the street a lot, does a lot of
Harner/Starr/Pedersen/Andrews/many-others stuff on me, we never knew
you, get lost, well, fine and dandy, candy pants electricians, but
I'm here to tell you, whoever is reading my words, now or in 100
fucking years, I now a lot of shit that nobody on this planet knows.
But I have great powerful fucking enemies stifling me and my
ability to get myself out there, and a child can see what's going on,
runny nose and all. Until and unless someone someday finds a way to
help me and plug me, no not with money or anything that I can put my
finger directly on, but if a small group of say just ten fucking
peeps would form a club and then contact me and say Mark, we did it,
we have MOTRIANITY, come lead us. I promise you one thing. I am no
Jim Jones. I don't want a cent from anyone of you. I don't want sex
from your daughters and children or from you. I don't operate like
the cult mentality, for one great reason, I an Morianity, is not a
cult. I am here 63 generations after my ancestor walked the shires of
Galilee, and I have the same enemies, only this time, they are much
stronger, and I am much weaker. How this all plays out with me, will
directly connect how a lot of huge shit all plays out with the entire
cosmos. Sounds like quintessential huberous behavior on my part,
doesn't it? Well, maybe it is, but the trouble is that just like the
paranoid nut case with people really after him, what are we to do. It
still really is real and really is happening. Tell me folks, just
what would you do if you were fucking me. I am very interested, but I
doubt my comment boxes will fill up. Peeps love to read, but they
move on, and forget this. That too is magic. Magic has positives and
it has negatives. The great
wiccans have my respect huge time,
because they know two huge truths, they know that, and they know the
triple goddess, as do I. Oh and don't let me fool you, I will
love her for eternity, as I love her in eternity, right American
Express Dowd old caveman Goldsmith?????????
NOW
WHAT IS THIS POTENTIAL
FUCKING BULLSHIT REALLY ALL ABOUT, FOLKS????? I
have the kind of mind that is slow to learn. Once I do learn however,
my mind takes what I learn and figures out dozens of things all
around what I just learned, that seem to go over the heads of the
vast majority of folks on this planet, even the great minds. This is
not a brag, and is merely the way that my mind works. I take
no credit for any of it, and many times am thought of as mildly
retarded for not being able to pick up on new shit as fast as the
average other folks around me. But when all is said and done, there
it is staring you in the face, a simple truth. I
took my math book home in the first grade at the Richland Avenue
School of Quakertown, Pennsylvania, and in one evening, completed the
entire year's assignments. Instead of being given special
attention and praised in even a small way, I actually found
myself in trouble for being a prodigy. So a few months
passed, and I had come to learn that I was negatively rewarded for
showing that I was smart and had ability to excel academically. So
one day when simply rhymes were being taught, I acted like I could
not do rhymes. My mom was called in, and eventually, I showed that I
could. I found myself in a lot of trouble now it seemed, back in
1962, for being smarter than the others, and then being dumber than
the others. It was then that I sort of learned in a 7 year old way,
even though the expression had not yet been invented to my knowledge,
my mind was going along the lines of a similar thought, to, hay, I
can't win for losing. I am damned if I do and damned if I don't. I am
just going to go through school and life and all of it, never being
able to please people, and always being fucking cunt picked on and
PERSECUTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was right 100%.
Well,
in 1988, my Epitome of Harassment cassette tapes, were COPYRIGHTED,
and lots of fucking shit got all explained, and totally hush-hushed,
by very powerful SCOTT RANSOM people!!!!!!!!!!!!
One
of these things were my inventions that David Charles Roth was
discussing on these tapes, that the great UNITED STATES © Office has
a record of permanently to this day and second; and lots of wild
details were discussed. The actual words KEYBOARDS
FROM PETAHELL were never used. What was used was ITS FUCKING
TOTAL TWIN, MAGNETIC SOUND MACHINE, or
'Magnesonic' for short. Dave was talking and saying, quote,
“That exact sound would be right there, in your living room'',
well, this is a far cry from ''digital recordings''. But this is only
one application of this invention from the days of SUNRAM, and not
SUNJAMMER-NASA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, all of
any letters, POTENTIAL was and still is their worry, the
WOMO-MILITUFORCE'S WORRY that is, of me, and what this system can do.
We have nuke medicine and great things that atom splitting has led
to, but it also can blow up real nasty ass bad, and kill off
humanity. Magnesonic has good and evil too,
Goddess and atom, and Sarah, Mark, and Albert are more than just
three who know the diction involved, as GIRL, I DID TELL A LOT, did I
not, lovely strobelight,
oh love of my life, SSJKK?
Again
Mister Jimmy Rockford, not
only CAN WE, but WE WILL be getting back to all of this
and so much fucking more. I hate every evil fucking bastard who has
hurt me for 50 years since I have been nine cunt lapping years old,
and every one of you WILL PAY A PRICE, eventually, for what you all
have mother fucking done to me, that's a TAHREN-TEE-TOTAL-PROMISE,
Mister Gandhi!!!!!!
4
Harry-B, and my new followers, a cap-in:
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2293, M-5-00137
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE AND TIME FILE:
072213.015,
TUESDAY FREAKING MORNING
WITH
RE-POLISHED SHOES AND EMPTY CANS, LIKE
WOW-THIS:
WOW
MISTER TRUMPMACY, this is starting to
get real 'geuoood' as Dawn-Marie the mighty and late KING might say
it so 'well', Mister Pennock, old pal.
First,
every single clit huffing time that I activate my PC around just past
noon or midnight, down to 10 or whatever BOB and MI, or were we 10 or
whatever Callio Branch-code 16 divided by square GAGA roots? In any
case, here is what someone or something does to me almost without
fail should I not catch it and compensate for it by setting back the
clock inside of the PC-CP (personal computer control panel).Oh yes
sir and mahm, Marina Gottwald of Twisterville, lovely Glinda, and how
all of you can think I am a nut with all of this, escapes my tiny
mind 99 ways back from a naked fuckin g shore screwing her brother in
church Sunday Morn Mister Diamond, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or was
that Caroline Kennedy September, well in any event, try letting me
sleep through 11:59 unhacked PM on 0930, thank you, great songs,
folks, wish all fucking music sounded like this and what my kid used
to do B4 the dam chemtrails!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't
re-read this too lightly folks, Jeesh Surfer double time Fonty, and
triple time WOW, just examine this new Donna Fargo funny face, and
maybe it is why the clock got hacked, but still, Lenny sir, both
Lenny's even; no 36th Avenue, PRAISE GODDESS
ALMIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEENA-W.
MORIANITY
PART 5
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT
DATFILE: 072113.977
CHAPTER
00136
BEGINNING
TRANNY:
Smiley
faces or no smiley faces, no, there will not be a Morianity-C, soon
or ever. Also, all of Morianity will definitely be wrapping up, thus
Morianity-B which includes, Parts 1-5, makes up B, and this is now
towards the very ending of things, because I have already told in a
compressed way, the entire truth of what is going on, and in case I
am too mother fucking retarded to ever get it, nobody gives a mother
fucking rats ass about it. Amazing too, billions of folks all
trusting in some kind of stupid ass fucking garbage, and knowing they
will be physically dead before you can say boo, and turn to worms;
yet they go through life totally uncaring about this, and ignoring
someone who claims to know. I still think blood is thickest, and feel
that only blood knows this is real, and even told me so years and
years ago, and I very much appreciated that wonderful comment. All
that aside, things won't wrap up until I type in as promised on a
soon to follow blog, my mom's 1976 near-death experience as mortal
folks love to call things such as this, a story written word for word
by my lovely wonderful adorable mother and secret grandmother, in her
own words in 1977, and this along with tapes of my daughter playing
lab-technician; were some of the things that only divine providence
could have been behind, surviving my trip down here to Florida; as
this was the last thing on my mind to take with me when I left with
my life and the clothes on my back, the home of the great KINGS, in
early middle December of OHM-9, Mister Zane Hypnoses Ciprionni.
Here's to all Providence Avenues, providence, sound sampling, world
controllers of all things, and eternal hell residences of which
escape is impossible, AKA Black-High Einsteins of roulette-science,
Michael AHA McNulty. No that was not easy, and I got it, and we all
know, you've got it, Staples Store; but here is the way, to get it
every day in the fall; CBS Network, and yes; a
great memory S---U---C---K---S,
in my humble opinion, of which Mashell Daniels has entitled me to
however, as of 1980, WOW,
gee gads, golly gash darn gee whiz willagars, YO, silly stupid old
man that I am, James Stuart, sir. And yes folks, I
am all alone in a place called 'HELL'.
Hell is not describable. You live with billions
of mother fucking bastard assholes who refuse to believe a word you
say, mock and laugh at you 24-7, and persecute you in every
conceivable way without shame or mercy or humanity. It is real, and I
am unable to do one thing about it. I know theoretically how
to get out of it, but built into it is
something called the Brick Wall Bluebook
Syndrome (BWBS for short). Peeps trying to get the UFO shit
cracked open, understand my frustration. Yet these same jack off dick
heads turn right around and do the very same thing to me that they
despise so much that is being done to them regarding their UFO-space
alien situation. It is hard for me to have a speck of sympathy for
anyone, as everyone has demonstrated to me, for just about 60 years
now; that they all are in some black-ops private competition, for
receiving the 'Prick
of the Century Award'.
Thank
you LIGHTNING, my
wonderful love, for being around here with me both this morning and
this evening, displaying the most colorful and gorgeous bolts of CG
and RIB displays ever. Just when I am convinced that you cannot come
to me any more beautifully than you did the last time, you
blow my mind, Diana.
A
careful study of my blogs reveals that indeed, there were 4 of us in
that ADA Office on 5 December, 1989, Ron Wirtz, Mizz Spinosi, David
Roth, and myself. So now if you answer me this second question, I
will, before taking down the entire account, post up to The Youtube a
20 minute video that will make all doubters of ME & MORIANITY,
gulp very hard. Anyone following this who does not crap in their
pants after seeing it, has major control over both their emotions and
their intestinal tract. You won't need to prove authenticity about
any of it, believe that, you will know it as if Diana had just come
down right in front of you, and killed all of your kids. Not a nice
way to put it, but again, General Sir, loud and dirty, I don't want
any of you to like me, I want you to believe in Morianity. You won't
however unless I post this thing, and I will not do it unless the
second question is now responded to, accurately, ELIMINATOR! What
store did the NSA AGENT have a short talk with me in the early
nineties, on the Route 30 New Jersey road, that goes from Camden, to
Atlantic City? What is the name of the store,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENA WELLS????????????? Also, you must in
some cute clever way, tell me how it might be connected to Mister
Jason Forrest of the great Internet Radio Station WFMU! Do that, and
I'll post something that will make the world take a week off like
back on 911, only without any violence, there has been more than
enough of that fucking shit, huh folks?
Yes
Leticia, you and I could do a real circus act together with our
animal impressions, but here is where MOGOSP
fits into the system. There never would have been that LOIS
FOCA INTRO, if some electronic trickery and magic, was not done, when
I originally went to record the version sent down in 2007 to the
Copyright Office, as the original was
just not something that included that introduction. But
after this force made me angry, I began doing a test-vocal, and that
is how the Dick Wolf sounds ended up as that intro, but you do a much
better dog than I do, Letty girl. Now I was great with cat
talk, but chemtrails have been so bad over the past few years, that
my particular DNA suffers an allergic reaction to an over abundance
of aircraft jet fuel. Those who wish to believe all the wilder stuff
about chemtrails, I never laugh at anyone, but I do know that just
these fuels when over concentrated in an area day after day, effects
certain DNA, such as mine, another powerful proof, only we need not
get anybody more pissed off, especially when I didn't do anything
wrong. Still bad guy me, YO, YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
tried e-mailing the fucking FBI, and it did not work. Yesterday and
today have been the worst mother fucking siege death assault in I do
not know how long, I am sure the DJIA MARKETS flew up 500 points to
some ridiculous all time record high price. I have not as yet checked
the charts.
(End
Tranny, SWEET ROTTEN OLD GRANNY.
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