Sheriff
Mascara
of Saint Lucie County, Florida sir; I am under a major assault
AGAIN. Last night, the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES of Mister Camden Licorice
Plant Hall, decided to strike me again
with their extremely mother fucking annoying
“VIDEO-SIGNAL-CUT-OUT ATTACK”. This
happened last night, first at around 7:23 P.M., and then again at
around 8:50 P.M. I know for a fact that the persecuting bastard
satellite that is doing this to me, orbits this planet every 90
minutes, hence with a ten minute window each way, it always follows
one or more within the window time, followed by another attack that
is one orbit later, and sometimes it is done in following orbits of
this non-stationary satellite as well. The time line always fits
this, so I have come to believe it is one of mother fucking NASA'S
goddamn assaults on me. When I drove down here from New Jersey,
Sheriff sir; I was brutally picked on by them as I approached their
area, while driving southbound on Interstate,
non-daut 95!!!!!!!!! It was as though they were trying to bomb
out my poor little automobile or something, but I know it was done
for nothing less than to scare the shit eating hell out of me, kind
sir!
ALL
SAVANTS MAY NOW SAY THAT
“THIS CONTINUES ALONG HERE, ME KIND FOLKS”.
SO
GODDAMN WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
MONDAY,
JANUARY 14, 2019
10:49
ANTE' MERIDIAN
BLOG
09 OF TWENTY NINETEEN (2019)
I
am going to tell you a bit now about my dealings with this
SHADOW-MILITARY
that has surfaced after World War ll, along with BFA (Black
File Agencies) such as NRO, CIA, NSA, DID, DOD, and the
groupation of them is so extensive and many still are not known of,
so I've shortened the list to the Black File Agencies, or a
generalization of the entire rotten dirty evil mess, who make many
people's lives nothing but mother fucking miserable, and caused many
unexplainable suicides, beginning with the more famous one such as
Doctor Jessup, referenced from the great book that many have now
read, called, “The Bermuda Triangle”. For the sake of
Mountainpen's Morianity, I've labeled 'thisSSSSSSSSS', the Non-Erica
Cane-AMC-1983 Spellchecker; the
Milituforce, and AKA for better symbolic truths, the
(WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES OF MISTER HALL)!!!!!!!!!
The largest connection with them and myself is not their decades of
inconceivable death assaults by them via air siege and covert death
blow body strikes, BUTTTTTTTTT, BIG ASS
BUTTTTTTTT folks, it is the 1983
MYSTERY-ILLNESS
given to me by THEansweristheqyuestioncontinued.com/,
or NO SPELLchecker, BY THEM,
yo yo yo yo yo!!! This is a multifaceted situation; Mister Kent and
Inspector Louigee, and here it is: That is for all real and true
Superman fans out here who remember all of the great lines from all
of these great black and white 50's shows. Let's mother fucking
explore here, shall we?
THIS
ETERNAL DOGTOWNITE,
AND
THIS HUMAN-HYBRID, WITH THE
Blood
type--A
neg. & Eye
color--green-hazel
IS
NOT SIGNING OFF QUITE YET,
FOLKS!!!!!!
NOT
QUITE YET BRO, THERE IS WAY TOO GODDAMN MUCH TO TELL FOR ALL THE
FUCKING SHIT THAT THEY'RE DOING TO ME, KIND SHERIFF KJM, SIR,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mark Wayne 'Mountainpen Huntington' Mohr
New
BLOGS ON Blogger since December of 2011.
Old
BLOGS ON Blogger since January of 2006.
As
of 2011, Profile views – 500
I
am very proud of my Huntington family!
©
BOM, BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2019
©
2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
INTERNATIONAL
BLOG POPULARITY, IN GREEN-COLORED SHADE
RATIO:
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
So
forget about alligators, Mister
Microsoft Spellchecker. It's Paula King
that we all need to be concerned with here, yo yo yo yo yo!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views - 3009
MY ORIGINAL MORIANITY BLOGS:
About me
|
Gender
|
Male
|
|---|---|
|
Industry
|
|
|
Occupation
|
|
|
Location
|
|
|
Introduction
|
Not
boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can
honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or
have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through
hyperspace, with awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense'.
|
|
Interests
|
|
|
Favorite
Movies
|
|
|
Favorite
Music
|
|
|
Favorite
Books
|
You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits? To start with, I could make a VERY
ANGRY
MOTHER. Then, at the risk
of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is
that you cannot be sure of anything. Sorry for my rotten bad
attitude, gorgeous Desire' Twinbay!
SHERIFF
MASCARA SIR; USE THE HYPERLINK BELOW.
AND
ERICA, DO NOT USE THISSSSSSSSSS SNAKE SOUND!
The
damn death angel is annoying me to mother fucking death, what else?
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!
But
it was our daughter who claimed TO RULE, from atop the great
'ES' Building. I am now wondering if symbolically, this is not REALLY
the great Exploratronic Supermind Building, of NYNY??????? Still,
'Lenny', all Lenny's everywhere that is, and that was the day of her
high school score, as I call it in my
coded-poems of life, AKA, or so it seems by many out here, as my “2nd
Saga of Songwriter Mark Mud, 1983-2019”. Only the
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'
can fit perfectly right about now, and into here; huh world? Those
mother fuckers across from me are driving me nuts today, but then the
entire mother fucking TRIAD NABE SYSTEM
or (TNS) for short, just about ALWAYS
MOTHER FUCKING DOES, KIND SHERIFF KJM,
SIR!!!!
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
This
is major mother fucking annoying, kind Sheriff Mascara,
A---G---A---I---N, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!
MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR AND THE
BOM---------------------------
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T
LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!
Well
for that matter, neither does my arch rival-enemy, Mister lowlife
shit eating, Robert McGuire. Wonderful
lovely Atlantic City, New Jersey, huh
Cuzz Donnie boy? I remember that day when you were running for the
fucking presidency, up on that stage, and your exact words, like
fucking all Joann and Joanna WOW's times the square of the constant.
You said and I quote you sir, “I got out of
Atlantic City, I saw the handwriting on the wall”. I always
tell people who insist otherwise, you're the smartest mother fucker
in the room, and you always will be; cousin. But
then, you already know this, yo!
MAGNETIC
SOUND MACHINE:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Computer,
OPEN COMMAND--G-7, and hear my MVP
(Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing,
obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and
utterly wiping out, all of my neighborhood and PHA Building neighbor
enemies, and nearby street residents enemies, on a crush-destruct
order; also including any and all enemies given to me by any
of my Atlantic City enemies, including Robert McGuire and Paula King,
under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Scan and totally wipe out and destroy whoever is hacking my video
systems, and causing cut-outs when they so choose to do this.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13,
CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD.
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted
long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone
is colored RED. The
low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic
reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional),
(AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
MAGNESONIC, on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE,
PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, you will now be
transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P
Every
mother fucking time this cunt eating building I'm living in has their
stupid Monday meetings, POW, and yes Spellchecker, 'POWerhouse' too;
THIS HORRIBLE DOOR SLAMMING NOISE GOES ON AFTERWARD, SHERIFF MASCARA
SIR. Why these cunt chewing stupid meetings are held every week now
suddenly since this all started a couple months ago in late-eighteen,
I do not have a mother fucking cock sucking smallest clue, yo!
BUTTTTTTTT, BIG ASS BUTTTTTTTT, every single time this happens, I put
up with this horrible fucking monster ass noise persecution
afterwards, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is
totally Mack 1967 Kaiter ridiculous!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I need to tell
the shit about the MILI-2-FAWCES and the
THROAT-CONDITION OF 1983, before folks start to lose interest
and go to the “NEXT-BLOG” button. So here goes kind folks out
here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had left the 1802 Robin hill Apartments
on the last day of January, moving into the Atco rental home on 1
February of 1983. Yes this has indeed all been told over and
over before kind folks, BUTTTTTTTT, BIG ASS 2006-2007 BUTTTTTTTT;
never put into true perspective with all of the damn numerous
connecting items and situations, and for that matter, I seriously
doubt that time will ever permit all of that to be fully done in
proper elaboration, yet containing easy English
words that all of us use and hear every day, so as to avoid
lots of potential confusion and ambiguity, yo. So let me lay down a
few foundations here, peeps. First, you all know fully well about how
I was sitting in my apartment bedroom while still residing at 1802
Robin Hill in Voorhees Township, NJUSAESMWG, and it was some time in
early or middle October in 1982.
Suddenly, and for absolutely no rational or logical reason, I
heard words inside of my head without any audible voice
whatsoever, telling me, “Mark, you just wait
until the 4th
of next June rolls around, ha ha ha”. Religious peeps like
Jim Burr would insist that this was “demonic activity” and who's
to ever say who is right or who is wrong, since not one mother
fucking person on this goddamn Earth-Planet can get up and prove a
damn thing scientifically about anything. We are literally all a
bunch of fucking five year olds playing a game in a large closet
after our parents have gone outside in the back yard to rake leaves.
When I had left Robin Hill for this rental home
in Atco, New Jersey, I had just purchased a very strange machine
called the PRIVECODE, invented by the International Mobile Machines
Corporation, later becoming the InterDigital Corporation of today.
This machine was only used by a handful of peeps, and I was one of
those peeps. Also, it never caught on back in 1983. The makers of
this machine are part of the Exploratronic
Supermind Society, which is a group of totally bizarre
stealthy spirit-travelers, with objectives and goals that are all
merely part of a gargantuan sized cosmic game. Also, a part of this
entire mess is the BFA and or the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE. All of these things
happened to me at exactly the same period and circa of my life,
between the age of 28 and the age of 29. These are also two extremely
powerful numbers for both myself as well as humanity in general, that
time simply won't permit me to even begin to address right now on
this goddamn fucking blog work. Inside of my throat and my body is a
connection-system. I call it this
because I have no better name for it. Sheriff,
I am going to call 911 and sign a complaint against these enemies
here on my floor, as they are simply fucking
killing me in here with this horrible fucking persecution
noise, AND THEY KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THEY'RE DOING
TO A SICK OLD MAN; ME KIND SIR!!!!
No,
Paula King and her evil nervous all MCGUIRE'S MILI-2-FAWCES, don't
want me to say many things, beginning with whenever I wake up out of
extremely fucking horrible nightmares, as I DID AGAIN TODAY, things
go extremely fucking badly for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
feel that my very life is in danger from these loud disgusting
dangerous criminals all around me outside of my door, kind SHERIFF,
sir, and MY FUCKING BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS, AND THE HANDS OF YOUR
WONDERFUL FUCKING SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Things are very bad right now, and I am going to drive over to see
you now, kind Sheriff and sign my complaints against these horrible
fucking neighbors!!!!!!!!!!!!! We can always get back to Mister Jim
Rockford and his troubles and beat ups as well as my own hell and
nightmares, as well as my GLANDULAR
CHOKE STORY OF 1983, AND HOW IT FITS SO WELL INTO ALL OF THE UFOLOGY
AND ALL OF THE HUNTINGTON FAMILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
SATURDAY,
JANUARY 12, 2019
11:08
ANTE' MERIDIAN
BLOG
08 OF TWENTY NINETEEN (2019)
THIS
ETERNAL DOGTOWNITE,
AND
THIS HUMAN-HYBRID, WITH THE
Blood
type--A neg. & Eye
color--green-hazel
IS
NOT SIGNING OFF QUITE
YET, FOLKS!!!!!!
©
BOM, BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2019
http:/theansweristheqyuestioncontinued.com
© 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
INTERNATIONAL
BLOG POPULARITY, IN GREEN-COLORED SHADE
RATIO:
Sheriff
KJM sir; my enemies are pouring on a death harassment, and it started
about forty minutes or so after I posted up my previous blog.
I wish you could send some people over to my building and to my sixth
floor, to hear the screaming and door slamming that began around ten
thirty or so, and is MAJOR BAD. I MAY HAVE TO
CALL 911 IF THIS DOES NOT STOP! I pay my rent here too, and
shouldn't have to take this abuse from these goddamn ignorant enemy
ILLEGAL GUESTS OR WHOMEVER THEY ARE, BUT IT
WON'T STOP, SHERIFF, BANG-SLAM-BANG-SLAM, SHOUT SHOUT SHOUT!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
So
forget about alligators, Mister
Microsoft Spellchecker. It's Paula King
that we all need to be concerned with here, yo yo yo yo yo!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views - 3009
My ORIGINAL MORIANITY blogs
About me
|
Gender
|
Male
|
|---|---|
|
Industry
|
|
|
Occupation
|
|
|
Location
|
|
|
Introduction
|
Not
boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can
honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or
have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through
hyperspace, with awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense'.
|
|
Interests
|
|
|
Favorite
Movies
|
|
|
Favorite
Music
|
|
|
Favorite
Books
|
You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits? To start with, I could make a VERY
ANGRY
MOTHER. Then, at the risk
of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is
that you cannot be sure of anything. Sorry for my rotten bad
attitude, gorgeous Twinbay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Profile
views As of 2011, – 500
I
am very proud of my Huntington family!
©
BOM, BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2019
SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, USE THIS HYPERLINK.
AND
ERICA, DO NOT USE THISSSSSSSSSS SNAKE SOUND!
!
The
damn death angel is annoying me to mother fucking death, what else?
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
since these mother fucking diseased Atlantic
City nightmare jerk off scum bag sub-people and witches, are
determined to ruin, wreck, and utterly wipe out and fucking destroy
me, and think they're all so cunt lapping above the law; here will
come a little bit of revenge. First with my MAGNESONIC,
and then with some more powerful revenge-tattle-tailing from my
absolute best 'RATS-TATS-REAL FOOTBALL'
DAYS OF NON LOVELY JESSICA SIMPSON, from
my days of Jenny's, you know, Trailer
Park Jenny, and don't bother flying
around here as it won't prove a thing Jenny!
Let's get on with it, yo.
The
“Let's move his fucking place on the page HACK”
is back recently, and with a real cunt huffing vengeance; Sheriff
Mascara, sir!
MAGNETIC
SOUND MACHINE:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Computer,
OPEN COMMAND--G-7, and hear my MVP
(Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing,
obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and
utterly wiping out, all of my neighborhood and PHA Building neighbor
enemies, and nearby street residents enemies, on a crush-destruct
order; also including any and all enemies given to me by any
of my Atlantic City enemies, including Robert McGuire and Paula King,
under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13,
CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD.
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted
long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone
is colored RED. The
low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic
reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional),
(AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
MAGNESONIC, on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE,
PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, you will now be
transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P
Well
goddamn it my wonderful Blogaudians, yo; I guess these horrendous
mother fucking sub-pigs want total war with me, with all sorts of
crashes, natural disasters, and worse. What can I say here, Attorney
General Bondi, and Sheriff Mascara? And here comes another mother
fucking DEATH ANGEL ASSAULT, AS
MISTER MORTIMER MORTINO
IS NOW PASSING BY MY LEFT SIDE THIS TIME, AT TEN MINUTES SHY/WHY OF
12-NOON, ON THIS SUPER MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY OF ALL ALLIgators
AND ALL NIGHTMARES!!!!!!!!!!!!
(CAP)
It is mother fucking 6:21 in the Post Meridian. The dirt bag death
angel is passing by my right side as I type this blog, folks!
I
IMAGINE THAT I COULD CAP IN THESE LEFT AND RIGHT SIDE DEATH ANGEL
PASSINGS, QUITE FUCKING ENDLESSLY, AS IT HAPPENS WITH HORRIBLE MOTHER
FUCKING REGULARITY, AND THE
WORSE MY LIFE GETS AND THESE BRUTAL ASSAULTS ON ME ARE,
THEN THE GREATER NUMBER OF MISTER MORTINO VISITS AROUND ME GET,
CHECKING, AND SCANNING OUT MY POSITION IN THE COSMOS, FOR A RAPID
DELIVERY BACK
INTO THE PURGATORY.
|
|
|
Global Audience In Shade Ratio Popularity: |
SO
WHY AM I POPULAR IN THESE GREAT COUNTRIES. I THINK WE ALL KNOW THAT
MY WORDS ARE TRUE. PEOPLE ARE JUST A BUNCH OF GUTTLESS RAT BASTARDS
WHO ARE TOO SCARED TO TAKE ON POWER STRUCTURES, TO EVER HELP POOR
PITIFUL NON-RONSTADT ME, HUH LOVELY LINDA???
THE
BIGGEST POWER OF ALL IS PAULA KING
THE QUEEN OF BLUE, AND EVERY SINGLE 1985 COPYRIGHT EXAMINER KNOWS
THAT I AM SPEAKING WORDS OF MARCUCCI TRUTH AND
WISDOM HERE, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
About Me
MARK
WAYNE MOHR, (MOUNTAINPEN)
- theansweristheqyuestion
- Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
|
||||||||||
So
when the
mighty Ray Young,
not Joe, or not just Joe either, for that matter, said
that with my stuff about causing things to move sub-atomically just
by using the gaming-hall-numbers-trick,
for a lacking of some more terrific academic title created by the
intelligentsia society of a sort, and I'm quoting Mister Young here,
“We
could take over the world in about ten moves”.
It might be a bit more than ten moves, and I didn't wish to argue
with him about it, butter-cheese-Spellchecker, and BUTTTT, and that's
big ass BUTT for crissake; it really truly honestly and verily would
not be a long tedious drawn out process. Knowing this trick, and
having a small army to do your bidding, and you could in fact
accomplish any mother fucking thing you could possibly ever wish to,
and
if I am lying, then I am dying, Mister Patrick Games-Expert CBS Jane
of the Dellway Dreams Club of late 2007!!!!!
However, this is not my point, but merely a needed foundation to be
verbally laid down so that what I will now begin to discuss, can
hopefully make a lot more sense to my Blogaudians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Allow me to press on here, kind and unkind folks, to whoever category
that you may choose to belong.
In
all honesty, with the powerful enemies that I have, and the
incredible ability that they definitely appear to endlessly possess
in making me forever isolated, helpless, and defenseless; this
knowledge alone and by itself is as worthless as a single key in a
dual safe system at a bank safety deposit box that may perhaps
contain millions of dollars of value inside. I
am the one key,
Mizz Safka, or the great 1971 Melanie Earth Shoe hippie-girl was
the other key.
It never really was about one key and one roller skate, despite her
wonderful and catchy whittle song from back in the day, huh Mister
Ciprionni Ohmmmm and Mister Count Von-Marcucci??? Yes I'll bet
neither one of these great ESS-Traveler-dual-Special-Ed-Teachers
had clue number one about pass-codes
and internet and social media, or my Google password for that matter;
not even with all of the great man's incredible wisdom words. Now if
THAT doesn't fucking ass deserve a mountainpen and a mountain-sized
W---O---W,
then what the fucking shit ever could or ever will; entities of the
Earth-Planet?????????????? Now I don't worry about large
RED-EXES
any
more,
since I never married a lot of Native American squaws, at least not
in this parallel of hyperspace, or in this lifetime, or any others
that my great memory can pull up; but I do remember the
great RED-EX
at Camp
Chesapeake,
in Northeast,
Maryland.
I will even 'CAP' in this little footnote from Donna Summer's still
surviving white boy from both 1989, as well as two decades into the
goddamn future now. I
have a message here for my old goddamn camp counselor, Mister Kaiter.
'THIS
IS REDICULOUS'! I have a message here for my old goddamn camp
counselor, Mister Kaiter. 'THIS IS REDICULOUS'! I have a message here
for my old goddamn camp counselor, Mister Kaiter. 'THIS IS
REDICULOUS'! I have a message here for my old goddamn camp counselor,
Mister Kaiter. 'THIS IS REDICULOUS'! I have a message here for my old
goddamn camp counselor, Mister Kaiter. 'THIS IS REDICULOUS'!
REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'!
REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'!
REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'!
REDICULOUS'! REDICULOUS'!
So
you want war with me, ridiculous or not, all
Maryland residents,
and also non-Maryland residents? Well, there is no
way that my outlandish and completely unexplainable medical choking
glandular condition just happened out
of the blue.
No doctor can explain it, nor are they willing to ever try. They
were TOLD NOT TO,
and the more you all keep tuning into that fantastic HISTORY
CHANNEL on late Tuesday night's,
I believe the more we are all going to fucking learn
about their stuff,
and also, MY
STUFF.
I for one am not planning on missing one single minute of one single
fucking show. These
Milituforce's were fucking with me ever since shit all began around
me when I came back from that beyond bizarre interaction on the night
before I awoke on the morning of August 15, 1986.
It is all involved, and it is all totally connected up. The
chain being stolen in a powerhouse dream,
at the very day when PROJECT
BLUEBOOK WAS TERMINATED BY THE AIR FORCE,
the huge
beautiful 3-sided perfectly made jet trail just an hour or so after I
came out of the DREAM,
and all of the aerial
persecution and harassment that began happening to me right after the
hyperspace jump that night over at that Richard barf Karpf house in
Cherry
Hill, New Jersey,
USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And the beat goes on and on and on, with or
without lovely Cher Bono, Melanie Safka, Donovan Leach; or any of
those one name only great sixties rock artists. This
is straight up straight talk, there are no lies or attempts herein to
deceive a soul. This is Morianity, and to the best of my knowledge it
is 100% true and accurate!!!!!!!
But there is a ton more shit that needs to be told, and it will be
told, just not while shit is this totally fucking bad. I may need to
get over to that goddamn Sheriff's Office early next week BEFORE
THIS IS PERMITTED TO GO ANY MOTHER FUCKING FURTHER!!!!!!!
I got your message about the latest 'chill-mo pervo' who has moved in
close by; thank you Sheriff. You have no idea sir what it is like
having to live under this nightmare, not the smallest clue. I
believe it is even worse than being in fucking jail.
I'd have to be proven wrong in order for me to believe that I am.
I
will bring you some wild proof when I drive over, kind
Sheriff KJM.
I can't play around with this shit any longer. Something has got to
give, as I am not going to mother fucking survive until my bennies
allow me leave this horrible evil place and disappear deep into South
America. This
cannot happen until I turn age 66 Sheriff, and that is not until the
4th
day of December of next year, 2020,
more than 22 months away. I
NEED YOUR HELP!!!
ALL
SAVANTS CAN NOW SAY, “THE END”.
“THE
END”--“THE END”--“THE END”
WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SATURDAY,
JANUARY 12, 2019
7:31
ANTE' MERIDIAN
BLOG
07 OF TWENTY NINETEEN (2019)
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. So take
that to the wonderful TD-BANK, yo. For right now, you just go be a
bunch of pigs and slobs. But remember, in more ways than one people,
“I've
got your fucking number”, and it isn't 123, 27, or 33.
But I've got it Paula and Bob! Unfortunately, I've also got lots of
other nightmarish and agony causing stuff all around me that just
won't go away. It cannot be prayed away, forced away, or made to
disappear by even the greatest mother freaking magicians out there on
this great yet totally screwed up EARTH-PLANET! My
“SAVE” part,
on this Open-Office
writer program, is slow
to respond.
Stacey King Lattisaw at work again this moUUUUrning, I suppose, kind
folks. No, as just stated herein, me wonderful Blogaudians, these
problems and woes of mine, ain't going away any time soon, and soon
means in Morianity, centuries! We're all as old as our blood. We're
not stones or wooden planks. Chronological age doesn't HAVE TO
freaking represent our biological age, as many of you now know, from
reading pieces from last year's Morianity! WEEEEEEEEE! Yes, I must
endure horrible evil criminal crooks and no good scoundrels on a
continuous basis, and anyone who doesn't think that the world works
like this, Mizz Desire' Twinbay, wink-wink, and all other Knowles
Schools of fiction, or maybe Charles Dickens actor/played Scrooge
nephew roles, just does not know the truth about some of the Fort
Pierce secretaries, or to use a more Politically correct term here,
Assistants. Wink-wink, huh Prick-Snot? This
crook should be in prison, and everyone in Florida has told me that,
BUT IS HE IN PRISON? IS DIRTBAG TRUMP? NO! Some
hack or hacker which is the same thing I guess, has screwed up my
ability today to have more than one document up at a time without
freeze-ups and continual hacks and other such mother freaking ass
annoyances, yo!!!! SHERIFF
MASCARA;
SOME PIG IS HACKING
ON MY
COMPUTER
SUPER HUGE ULTRA TIME, IN TOTAL
MOTHER FREAKING VIOLATION
OF MY HUMAN
RIGHTS,
MY CIVIL
RIGHTS,
AND MY GODDAMN ASS CONSTITUTIONAL
RIGHTS,
TO FREEDOM
OF EXPRESSION AND SPEECH,
UNDER
THE UNTITED
STATES
CONSTITUTION,
kind sir. I am going to see if things improve here by signing off
after saving this document, and then coming back to resume me whittle
blog, kind sir!
So
yes, Sheriff sir, and all other great Blogaudians out here; if
someone knows these truths spoken of in Morianity; they can indeed
EFFECT STUFF AROUND THEM, totally
invisibly, and totally covertly. Well, unless the enemies or the
(WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES) become
aware that someone is using this knowledge in this way, as
they did with me, decades ago, and for all I know; this
could be why the middle eighties assault on me was all rained down
like a volcanic overflow with me standing right there on the goddamn
freaking edge of it! But one huge problem existed throughout
all of this and during this period of hellfire and damnation. This is
the one, as people all love to say so often, THAT I DIDN'T SEE
COMING, OR DIDN'T SEE HAPPENING. As the old expression goes, and I've
heard it myself upon countless occasions, regarding lightning and the
danger of being struck; “It's the one you don't see” that is the
one that gets you. This is of course entirely correct, and makes an
awesome freaking illustration here, don'tchya think? All this time,
as if I wasn't cooking in hot enough poisonous stew sauce, I also had
the invisible enemy that was never observed, never imagined, never
really there at all yet of course always was. I speak of the mighty
PAULA KING of ATLANTIC
CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG!
I
went to sleep last night, early,because I wasn't feeling all that
great after a very long time of major hellishness and bullshit. I had
not been able to get a good night of rest and sleep for numerous
days. Finally, I crashed early, and was able to sleep until this
morning, perhaps eleven straight hours; and believe me folks, I
frickin' needed every single hour of it! BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, there is
always that BIG ASS BUTT CATCH,
as most of us know only too damn well, am I right or wrong here? Wild
and incredible interactions in the hyperspace or (dreams) as most of
you will label them, made my nocturnal activities incredibly active.
The one that finally awoke me out of it was the mighty Paula King,
who finally told me that indeed, SHE IS PINK GODDESS, and that it was
SHE who did it all, just as I had always wondered if one force or
person could have been behind all of my situations. She made things
happen so that I would find those records up at the RPL Studio attic
when I worked there from middle 1979 through early 1981, and she was
behind my four 1980 demos, and that she of course was the
stranger by the railing, to parallel Paul Eckist Twitchell yet
not simultaneously infringing on his copyright protected works. I
speak of the Atlantic City world famous boardwalk railing right there
at the on-ramp to it, at Tennessee Avenue, where Paula's radio
station is right there at the Arcade Building, and her parking lot is
right next door to the Casino Control Commission's parking lot, on
the street below the on-ramp. It has been PINK
GODDESS
PAULA all along, all this
time; and I was so ignorant not to ever put this together back in
earlier times and days, when it was way more
necessary for me to have done. After-all, finding out that you
were betrayed, while you're sitting in a chair all tied up, and about
to be shot execution style by some mob hit man; doesn't
do all that much to help you get out of that chair before the bullets
leave the pipe. When I needed to know, I
was never ALLOWED to know. Even the great Copyright
Office Head Examiner,
back early in this century, who I fully believe knew the truths about
my nightmare life on this planet, could have said something to help
me, but was of course, totally unwilling to risk her position there
at the Library of Congress, or to quote L&O's Detective Ed Green,
since his comparative quotation is so totally fitting and apropos
here, “so you lose your damn job”! Anyway, this interaction that
happened right before I literally jumped out of bed and out of my
sleep a couple hours ago, and Paula told me that I AM GOING TO GET
HER THIS OTHER AM RADIO, and I at first did not understand why she
wanted an amplitude radio, anyone can get parts and build one for
crissake, if nothing else. But then she
eventually told me that the AM stands for Anti-Matter.
Yes,
the great PINK GODDESS was indeed
the super beautiful giant girl who was standing on that boardwalk
on-ramp on 10-SC Avenue, back on the first week in June of the year
1980, in my wild dreaming-interaction that I was experiencing after
approximately one month residing at the illustrious 1802 ROBIN HILL
APARTMENTS, of Voorhees, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG. Then seventeen
freaking years later from the time of this early June 1980 'dream',
she was standing right across the street from there, at HER PARKING
LOT, or her father John King's lot back then, and this was on the
night of July 11, 1997. She was flicking those Cuban cigars, one
after another, completely across the street, and making them spark
off of the brick wall that was the Endicott Hotel property, as I
suppose it is here in waking life also, as that part wasn't any
different. Only I wasn't throwing any rock-paper-scissor fists or
playing any FIRE-LIGHT games, not with her, not with the State
Police, not with Elvis Presley, and certainly not with Patrick CBS
Jane. But on the next morning, I did in fact screw up my skimpy
little courage and drove down to 10-SC Avenue, and I did see Paula,
right at her dad's parking lot. He of course was the man who TOTALLY
INSISTED THAT I HOSE MYSELF OFF, BEFORE COMING BACK TO MY CAR, TO
DRIVE OFF HIS LOT that day; in the late summer time in 1996. No
matter how many times I assured him that I would be fully clothed
when I return and may not even go to the beach, he continued to
insist upon this, and blocked my exit off of his lot property, until
I AGREED to do so. Of course, I NEVER DID. But hoses, dreams of my
kid, what next, maybe Captain Kirk and I will salute each freaking
othjer before he takes me on a freaking star ship or other such
mystery ship ride out amongst the stars, straight over to extra
sensory perception heaven, and all great galactic barriers, so I can
talk to Paula King again, only this time, in her TRUE PERSONA AS PINK
GODDESS! Do I believe that she is also Patty
Hollister, and other such similar 'H'
surnames, and even the great Mizz Safka herself, with or
without Hans Brinker, magical
silver skates, magical silver motorcycle
chains, or special keys that can unlock
great tri-worm tunnels, such as on Tennessee Avenue in
ACNJUSAESMWG, State Street & Pierce Avenue in Camden, NJUSAESMWG,
or Cooley H-H-H-H on Hopkins Lane and “KINGS” Highway, in
Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG? Let me answer this question by asking a
question, oh mighty and mean Doctor non-Crown Crystal Lake Avenue
'psychiatric-dose' Cohen. After all this mind bending hell that I
have lived through, am I really NOT SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE
THAT????????????????
HA-HA-HA-HA
MISS BITCHWEEDS SLUTDISEASE FONDA, YOU
FREAKING MISSED ME!!!!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MMCN.
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
I'LL
FREAKING TYPE THE FIVE NUMBER GROUPINGS IN ANIWHO, OR
AS MY WONDERFUL COINS AND COILS MIGHT CALL THEM,
MY 'GROUPATIONS';
so tee-hee-hee, Agents Condor and
Falcon, and all Lovely Lilly Munsters
everywhere, yo!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
sir Mister Chinese water-cooler Ray Young from 1988, I must have put
you to sleep the same way that I put the guy from Inventhelp to
sleep, or whatever that presently named firm was calling itself back
in the late twentieth century somewhere. Only now I have come to know
that it NEVER WAS ME who did these things, any more than I had the
ability to use major hypnosis on John Zane and Count John-Richard
VonMarcucci, back in the years of late 1969 and early 1970, that
brought me an inch or so away from a school suspension. It was never
really me doing these things, but AWESOME
PINK GODDESS PAULA, all
along. I asked her shy she hated me so much, and why she did so many
horrible things to both my mother and me so many times throughout
decades of time, and she laughed in this wild “DREAM” as you all
might insist on calling it, and told me “That Boy, you just get me
the radio I want, do you hear me”? I told her that it is in a
parallel universe and is just off of Grant Avenue in Northeast
Philadelphia, not all that far from the world famous
DRUG-SMUGGLERS-PIPELINE, and she laughed, and said back to me, “Yeah,
like in your teenaged daughter's phone conversation, 95”. I said,
“Yes great Pink Goddess, Interstate-ninety-five”. Then she
grabbed me and lifted me about four feet off of the ground, and threw
me straight into a pile of debris that was sitting in-between the
parking lot that she and her late dad John own, and the next door lot
that's owned by the Casino Control Commission
(CCC), just as in the song sent in 2007 to the United States ©
Office, under the title of my musical project called, “Karaoke
Lunch-break at the Sorian-18 Guardhouse”, only later the
CIA
told the Library of Congress,
for reasons of National Security, not to allow me to use the '18'
number before the word 'Guardhouse'.
Like WOW THAT one, huh all Joanna's and Joanna's everywhere, and lots
of scrumptious exotic butter-cheeses, huh Mariah?????????????
WHAAAAAAA!
END
TRANSMISSION:
WEDNESDAY,
JANUARY 9, 2019
6:23
ANTE' MERIDIAN
BLOG
6 OF TWENTY NINETEEN
INTERNATIONAL
BLOG POPULARITY IN GREEN-COLORED SHADE RATIO:
People
are so incredibly easily controlled and manipulated, it is totally
freaking pathetic. I will add this much into the mix here, kind
people. After getting my mother friggin' mind blown last night on
television, comparing my past life beginning in Atco, New Jersey in
the spring time of 1983, with that brand new fantastically great show
on the HISTORY-CABLE-CHANNEL, things FINALLY are clearing up for me.
So what happened as a result? Well folks, just as would be expected,
based on what I personally know and have experienced, that's what. I
had another wild through the hyperspace when I turned out the lights.
B4I go on, someone is playing games with my computer, and quite
naturally. Every single thing is under THEIR CONTROL, and always has
been, KIND SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA.
But then am I really telling or teaching you that? Anyone with
positions of power or authority, has to be somewhat in the loop of
those who control this situation and have the power to rule and
govern over the rest of us. But back now to my “DREAM” that I
just popped out of, and at least I can say that, literally, I didn't
justjoebutnotjoe “POP” out of this dream, Mister Microsoft
InterDigital Plank-Time Visitors Spellchecker of all great realms
everywhere, precious or not so precious to me, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
I
was over at my old school-buddy's house, Bruce Pennock, and then I
was in recent times where he was going to come over and discuss my
deal that I told a tiny fraction of to State Farm's Mister rotten ass
Larry Lee, back late last spring time, in 2018,and was treated like
horse goddamn manure afterwards. Wink-wink, huh Prick-Snot? This
crook should be in prison, and everyone in Florida has told me that,
BUT IS HE IN PRISON? IS DIRTBAG TRUMP? NO!!!!!!!!!! Of course not,
because these dirt holes are all totally mother freaking above the
laws that the rest of us poor rotten little slobs are all forced to
live by, OR ELSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But things were not always
this way, or at least quite as bad. It all seemed to go wrong at just
about the very same time that our wonderful United States Air force
military service system (Mili-2-fawce)
put an end, officially at least, to the great PROJECT
BLUEBOOK in middle December of 1969,
to the very day so it appears, THAT SARAH
KRASSLE CAME TO ME IN A POWERFUL DREAM, STOLE
MY CHAIN, AND THEN A HUGE 120 DEGREE
CHEMTRAIL WAS PLACED UP OVER THE ENTIRE SKIES OF WESTERN CAMDEN
COUNTY, NEW JERSEY!!!!!!!!!!! But let's get back to that wild
dream that I just pooped/popped out of, just two hours ago or so; my
wonderful Blogaudians out here, from all great
lands and
nations!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OH
LORDESS, MISTER GUTHRIE SIR!!!!
All
this freaking time, I hoped and prayed that my entire life did indeed
have some rational and logical explanation, right down to my contact
with Lightning goddess Diana Arteemis in 1983, or direct contact. She
always was in my life in a very special way, during
my Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr lifetime here, that began
in the SPACE-TIME-MIND illusions, on 4 December of 1954, at
approximately half past nine in the damn morning. So getting
back to this horrible hyperspace-experience from just a very short
time ago, Bruce had come over to my place, as he did upon a few
occasions in 'waking life' reality while my mom and I were renting a
home on Hillcrest Avenue, in the Cherrywood Estates of Blackwood, New
Jersey, from September of 1978 through September of 1979; owned by
Tony Crissafulli. In this parallel world, I was living in some other
place, but similar to the Dellway Arms Apartments in Oaklyn, New
Jersey, on Oakland Avenue, where I was living when I had the
unfathomable SARAH KRASSLE CHAIN REMOVAL EXPERIENCE, I was a little
bit younger but not that much, and my mother was in the interaction
and was living there as well. Bruce had come into a large fortune and
originally wanted to help me develop that fantastic idea that I
shared in this 'waking world parallel' with dirt hole Mister Lee.
When he arrived, he was distant as if someone or something, CAPTAIN
JAMES TIBERIOUS KIRK, of the Starship Gloucester, had taken over his
mind, and he told me that my idea was silly and he didn't want to
have any part of it. It was a real mother fucking nightmare,
to use the old words for a very bad time
remembered in the hyperspace!!!!
There
is no way out of, or around, this situation that I am in; not here,
and not anywhere. I have told the entire world the truth about the
Purgatory, the inhabitants, the whole damn ball of wax involved, and
I held back nothing. Morianity IS NOT a book of secrets, nor will it
ever be. I am an individual who has openly told in all candor, what
has happened to me over the past numerous mother fucking decades. I
have been straight forward and given it straight up and hard
punching. I am not the fucking Mili-2-Force. This IS MORIANITY. This
is THE TRUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
as I said back on my blog-book chapter called, GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
CHAPTER
58,
The
lady told me to contact an electrician, to come in and see why the
power goes out; and we all know that he or she
won't find a thing wrong, just as with my phone ever since
1983, or electric, or any of this mother fuckiGN shit. She did say I
can then come into th e office of the Sheriff, to file a criminal
complaint against an unknown plaintiff, and they will try to see if
they can help me. I told them the local police just think I am a nut
and won't even try to help me.
Let
us now, Sheriff sir, examine the morning stock market to see if it is
up 1,000 points yet after this wild assault on my civil liberties,
KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!
It
is either way up or way down, and causes them to attack me to try and
either get the positive momentum going on their side if it is UP, or
to lessen and reverse any negative direction. So just watch now, as
it slowly moves up 1000 points today, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am going to go over and sign a criminal complaint against WALL
STREET, and begin a civil lawsuit myself, for $1,000,000,000,000.00
and no one can stop me, as this is my legal right to pursue after 30
years of hell that they plan to endlessly keep doing to me until the
day I mother fucking die!!!!! I plan on
being this planet's first fucking TRILLIONAIRE.
They
ruined my blog also. I HAD SAID BY USING INETNTIONALLY CREATED
PARALLEL EVENT OR (ICPE), SO FAR THIS WEEK ON:
1----MONDAY
2----TUESDAY
3----THURSDAY
4----FRIDAY
THEY
GOT THEIR WAY HUGE TIME ON THEIR CHEATED EVIL CROOKED WALL STREET
STOCK MARKET. BOY I WISH YOU WERE HERE TO WITNESS AND SEE ALL OF
THIS, MISTER BERNIE SANDERS, KIND SIR,
AS I THINK YOU WOULD BE ONE WHO MIGHT JUST BELIEVE ME, AND SEE THAT
THIS IS ALL HAPPENING AND REAL; MY KIND FRIEND.
WEDNESDAY
THIS
WAS THE ONLY DAY, I WAS NOT PERSECUTED TO DEATH IN THE MORNING, WITH
EITHER UTILITY SHIT, OR MAJOR
NABE NOISE; AND THIS WAS THE BIG DOWN
DAY ON THE DOW JONES, BERNIE SIR, A CHILD CAN SEE AFTEER
30 YEARS OF THIS NIGHTMARE, THAT I AM NOT A
FUCKING NUT!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!
JANE
FUCKING WHORE FONDA JUST NAILED ME AT SEVEN OF THE CLOCK WITH
HER CUNT EATING ONES ASSAULT. So allow me to pweeeeeeeeeeeeze fucking
compensate, kind people, yo!!!!!!! TANKS, and KABOOM!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
I
am not on the mat looking up at my opponent with all my teeth knocked
out, not yet, so DON'T MOTHER FUCKING 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. So take that to the wonderful
TD-BANK, yo. For right now, you just go be a bunch of pigs and slobs.
But remember, in more ways than one people, “I've
got your fucking number”, and it isn't 123, 27, or 33. But
I've got it Paula and Bob!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
TUESDAY,
JANUARY 8, 2019
1:33
POST MERIDIAN
BLOG
5 OF TWENTY NINETEEN
Since
I am no expert with these computer systems, this
will begin with a short note TO
MYSELF. Hey dum-dum Mark, you screwed up.
When
you are looking for blog 4 and blog 5 of 2019, reverse it on your
office-dock-file, you know, if you want blog 4, type in blog 5, and
if you want blog 5, then type in blog 4. I don't know how to get back
into the damn file and repair my error. And you know what folks, I
can't blame anybody except myself, and I cannot go yelling, “thanks
a lot, DAVE”,
or
'YARRRRRR'
to Patty
Hollister.
In fact, I need not travel back through time and to Chicago, to warn
my Aunt (actually she was my second cuzz or some such deal), the
great and lovely Mizz Alice Gallagher,
about her eventual murder back east in Braintree, Massachusetts, USA,
ESMWG, by her hubby, and my mom's first cuzz, and son of the great
and somewhat wild Mister Herbert Huntington, Mister Arthur.
WHAAAAAAAA! Yes Spellchecker,
WHHHHATEVER will always do nicely in
a pinch!!!!!!!!!! Nor do I need to go
over to Ireland to chase any automobiles, or any other Ernie journey
that could be on my potential freaking bucket list, yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo! I also don't need any bugged-up telephones to know that my
wonderful piece of junk, AKA by our marvelous federal government, as
my BLUE-NUNNGEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So aha-aha THAT, Mister Mike 1971 McNulty, kind sir, yo bro!
I'm
gonna' open up another topic that indeed does, and will relate, to
all of my hyperspace stuff; kind folks. You'll goddamn see. I don't
make junk up, nor do I lie. My
Morianity did tell one lie, and a couple of years later I
owned up to it, and then an incredible thing happened. It all
led to me figuring out just who SARAH
'really' was. It was PAULA
KING ALL
ALONG. She said a very mean thing on a public bus, around
half past ten, on the night of the twelfth of July, back in the year
1970, in where else, BUTTERCHEESE and BUT;
ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG? Fits
and figures, huh? But my lie, that before that happened, as
Sarah got on, and said, “There's that boy”
to Paula King; means that they knew of me from my treks
with my mom, to the great and mother fucking illustrious
TRINITY-TRINIDAD HOTEL, of TENNESSEE AVENUE!!!!
Without going on and on, with an extremely fucking depressing and
ugly issue, better left forgotten and yet never of course can be; let
me just say that many of my loyal as well as Mountainpen-HATING
Blogaudians, know this story only too well. BUTTERCHEESE and big ass
BUTT, there is a whole lot more that will be examined, as this year
of 2019 continues fucking ass along; me kind and lovely blogging
audience (blogaud)!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I went to my clinic today, I was able to get all of medical problems
straightened out, that is until the nest time that Trump and his evil
fucking henchman strike me again with some more dependable new
persecutions against a pathetic sick old fucking cunt man.
BUTTERCHEESE and BIG-ASS-BUTT, when I was there, unlike ever before,
their TV set in the waiting area was set to a channel where the
inauguration of the state governor was taking place. I ignored it as
best as possible. Still, they normally have TWC on, or other non-news
type stations, but today, some of HALLS FAWCES made me suffer through
that fucking shit on steroids. Florida is a horrendous rotten RED
STATE, and it is my own damn fucking
fault, huh Merry;
for coming down here in the dead of goddamn night, nine years ago,
yo??????????? You go girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAA!
Still
kind Blogaudians, this same HALLS-FAWCES
PARLOR TRICK, that made that channel be
on at the clinic where I had to physically be there and get nauseated
and physically ill as a result, watching the new crook replace the
other total fucking old crook, Sir Prick
Snot, WAS ALSO USED, to cause many
people to act the way that they do, and believe total fucking
falsehoods regarding most things that pertain to poor old fucked up
whittle innocent me; yo me BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Oh you want
details on that, folks, well then fine and freaking dandy, as I'll
gladly provide some powerhouse and newsworthy information herein that
just might assist in clearing up the matter for any and everybody
reading my words of woe!!!!!!!!!! I saw this tactic used and enjoyed,
back at a mother fucking SATURN AUTOMOBILE DEALERSHIP, in
Williamstown, New Jersey, on the Black Horse Pike, or Turnersville,
as I forget now where the fucking township dividing lines are. But I
know that I told the story of how that young asshole employee girl
came over at just after the Wall Street opening bell, and turned the
goddamn fucking TV set in the lobby area of the damn ass dealership,
to the business channel, and not even asking me if I was watching
what was on before she had come over to do this. If this fucking shit
were happening to any of you out there, on the same regular
nightmarish basis that it has been happening to and around me ever
since I died and went to hell on the moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning of August
15, 1986; you would be every bit as
up set and totally fucking beside yourself as am I, YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO!!!! IPYT, me wonderful lads and lassies, yo!!!!
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, 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 full
pain and penalty 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 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 wil 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!
END
TRAnsdimensional AND END TRANSMISSION.
No comments:
Post a Comment