Journal
of my last days in Florida, #8
1:30
AM, Saturday, March 31, 2019
I
have spoken often about many things being seen in a new light, and
that not only our wonderful bibles are great for this, but any and
all things in the human existence. I do not mean to be one bit
sacrilegious folks. But it is still the absolute truth that it does
work with using the bible, and yes, it works on anything from TV
shows to books to old taped telephone conversations or anything. Many
brand new things will jump out of us because we are not who were were
last year, and the further back we go in ratio to our total lifetime,
ten, twenty, fifty percent of it, we will always get a different and
brand new view of the same old things, even though those things are
written in stone so to speak, and don't alter one bit. For me, an old
Star Trek show on TV is the topic of conversation, and it will be a
damn 'doozie-whopper', ex-President
Obama, sir, IPYT!
I
have been discussing the great MC, and one of the subjects of those
initials, Mind Control. The episode on the wonderful ME-TV less than
half an hour ago was all about such a thing, and no, it was not the
original pilot episode, 'THE CAGE',
but the one with Inspector Luger of the future
Barney Miller Show, and his mind-controlling
box from hell on some penal colony planet. The gods know
exactly where I am going with this blog, AND
THEY DO NOT LIKE IT, as the computer
just tried to mother fucking crash at 1:40 this
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING!!!!!!!
Oh yessir folks,and great wonderful Sheriff Mascara sir, this will
not be a long winded boring blog with lots of intentional repeated
items for purposes of rote learning and boring any possible tiny
audience that I may have to total death, but rather, this will be
sort of one of Mountainpen's major REVELATION BLOGS, and after one of
the worst mother fucking cunt chewing months that I have ever
experienced on this goddess damned to hell Earth Planet, maybe this
revelation could perhaps be thought of as a compensatory
happening, huh old ex late pal and educator, Mister
Marcucci? WEEEEEEE, Mister Chester-Frank, yo!
What
if all this time, I have been totally MIND
CONTROLLED, and forced or made to be
madly in love with this great and
incredible goddess, SSJKK, along
with her great source of power, Her
Holy-Spirit, AKA, by Morianity and Mountainpen, the electron?
We sure have zillions of clues to support this
distinct possibility, such as nobody in the history of the
Earth Planet has ever been madly in love with this being (alien-
(Congressman Andrews-'whatever') before me. Also, it
is right in the bible that no one first loved GOD, but that
first, this so-called entity, LOVED
US. Then we have the Star Trek show from an hour ago, the Holy
Spirit Callio High in Atlantic County, New Jersey, Holy spirit
Lifeguard Steve from good old Haddonwood Health Club in 1995; and
this list literally could go on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and
on, and on, and on! Let us explore this
just a tad bit further here, all wonderful
Rhonda's, huh Brian Wilson, and Mariah Carey, and others too,
yo! We could take a year getting fully and seriously into this, but
this all sprung into my head
while I was watching that show on TV, that yes, I've viewed a dozen
times or more before without any effect whatsoever, only now quite
suddenly and extremely intensely folks, POW, this hit me like a
mother fucking ton of loose goose stinks, yo! All
this time, I have been manipulated into thinking that I have loved
this mind bending almighty being, and it is no more real than
Captain Kirk's hunger to raid the penal colony kitchen, or his sudden
fake love for that shrink who he barely knew from one lousy Christmas
party, and yes, I said CHRISTMAS
party, as all things have
power, every single solitary word has major power! It is believed by
the inhabitants of this Earth Planet, or many of them,
that this Almighty Pink Goddess or GOD,
created the entire heavens and Earth,
with these simple things we all call WORDS!
You cannot have one side of the truth on this
equation of life, without also following the very same
mathematical laws that all equations must
follow. Not if you are seeking
any sort of accurate results, yo. When I moved
into the fucking HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS
OF WILLIAMSTOWN,
NEW JERSEY, USAESMWG-THIS PART OF
THE 5TH DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE;
all great Brad's everywhere yo, I was obviously entering into the
part of this mighty goddesses videogame called, “LET
US ALTER MARK'S FREE WILL, OR TRY TO, AND MAKE HIM LOVE ME”.
She tried this before using Earth time reality, back in the middle
late nineteen-sixties, when she was here on
Tennessee Avenue of Atlantic city, as SARAH! I managed to escape this
the first time, BUT NOT THE SECOND TIME. I had just managed to
reestablish my good credit rating again, and had all sorts of
fantastic plans that most of you know about, such as again attempting
to resurrect the idea of STARBURN
OUTREACH
DEVELOPMENT
INCORPORATED, and my very
wild and extreme plans that operate all throughout this, that
hopefully would someday eliminate the scourge of poverty for good and
all, out of this otherwise great country that we all call the UNITED
STATES OF AMERICA! Just as I was about to begin my
journey of mind bending philanthropic altering of localized humanity,
POW, I WAS INTERFERED WITH, by
way of this sudden and irresistible love that surged up all around me
for this incredible goddess. Now I know fully well that there are a
lot of mother fucking disjointed pieces that are all scattered about
and flung out of this unfathomable jigsaw puzzle box in four and
maybe even in five full dimensions. I know that
not all of this fits perfectly together in logic. You need not
comment to me on that anyone, as I am not some mother fucking
wehtahd, yo. Still, seeing that incredible monster ass Star Trek show
an hour or so ago, peeps, like fucking ass WOW
on steroids, evweebwuddy! It struck me
whittle bwain like a freight train
with warp drive, coming straight at
my soul, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So don't call
me up and tell me that I am the quintessential scatterbrain, Mizz
Terry from Egg Harbor City back in 2007. TANKS!
Just
because I have not put all of it together, does not mean that I am
not onto some major new realities and truths, that are pummeling me
with bullets of loose shit hail from the skies. Give me time to work
on this, as this major end-March revelation has only come to me in
the past hour for CRISSAKE!
When
Sheriff Mascara of my county (Saint
Lucy, Florida) called to give me the most recent update for
pervo's in my area within a mile of me residence here at the great
and illustrious Park Terrace PHA Building at
601 Avenue B, his call came in at the very precise time
that I had my COMCAST
CABLE
MODEM
HACKED and knocked out of
service, or interrupted, or 'whatever',
to quote my old pal, who became a wonderful Federal Congressman,
representing New Jersey, the Honorable Robert
Andrews, who by the way, sang on many of my tunes from the
middle seventies through the early eighties, yo.
Now
I fully am aware that I have a good faction of mysterious forces
working for me as well as my many enemy-fawces, Mister Hall, sir.
I am not as goofy and dumbo as I look, Mister fucking Elephant, and
MAMA-1989. I never ever forget
anything, except when some ESS
jerk off does something that alters reality, and so if
it never happened, my memory of a never happened event would
indeed vanish. Gee, weelwee?
Shirley Alva is a fantastic example, and for that matter, even my own
goddamn daughter as well. We won't touch any of
this for right now, as there are just too many un-worked variables in
my newest revelation, for me to even begin to try getting into
the real heart of these fantastic fucking issues. Still, Shirley as
well as the entire medical mess from 1983, has roots from even
earlier times as well as tentacles that stretch
far ahead in the space-time-mind dimensional illusions as
well. In addition to this, we move out of the fourth, and smack dab
into the mother fucking Marilyn McCoo
fifth dimension for some of these
things, that all powerfully intertwine together, yo. The
intricacies involved here would requite a quantum-computer on
steroids to even hope to figure out the rudimentary elements
in their totality that would all be involved, and we all know, that
these blogs that began early in January of 2006, indeed are lengthy,
and complex. You can choose to label them huff and puff, or just
long-winded; but in any case, they tell the entire truth, without
intentionally meaning to infringe on anyone's copyrighted material,
not even Harry Potter's. Can I say the same thing for many other
folks from my musical past, and for that matter, other intellectual
property rights that would be non-musical in nature, Mister Crichton?
Interesting initials though, am I correct, Mister James Redfield
sir??????
Jane-Whore
Sleazeweedsdisease just fucking got me really good, so here is my
damn ass compensation. WOW THAT!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
All
sorts of great shit could have possibly have been done back at the
Highview Apartments, in the middle nineties, but oh no; they
can't allow that, none of that stuff Mister
Gagnus of Philadelphia sir, no bullshit from fucking you or your damn
ass automobile dealership! But there were a lot more mother
sucking sinister fawces at play
here, than just preventing me from maybe gaining a few bucks. Really
smart people are beginning to see all of this incredible fucking
bullshit at the speed of light squared. BUT, big ass BUTT, Mister
Mayor of Aunt Alice Gallagher's fantastic city of obvious politically
weird stuff; 99.99 percent of those who ever
read the words that I post and have posted for the past nearly
thirteen and a third years now, are merely going to laugh and
enjoy some inconceivably wild entertainment, or some similar thing
that they may wish to refer to this as. But
there are a tiny few people in this galaxy, who know that this
blog has spoken truths of such power, and fucking major magnitude,
that they must keep wondering silently to themselves why
I have been allowed to keep breathing this long. Since
quite obviously the great and awesome fucking Milituforce has such
incredible power, to operate in total stealth and covert
secrecy; why am I not all laid out on the road with my car, in a
zillion pieces, after a drive by shooting, or a big rig truck that
lost control, slamming right into me? Well
folks, maybe it is time to refresh your goddamn memories on some shit
from this dude, who resided in 1984,
on HIGHLAND Avenue,
in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, and where many ideas indeed are
from me, and used by the fantastic MIND
CONTROLLING ENTERTAINMENT
INDUSTRY! Morty Mortino seems to
have some very strange aversion to tapping me on my shoulders.
Yes, he passes around both my left side as well as my right side, and
very very often. BUTTTT, BIG ASS EVIL EMPIRE BUTTTTTTTT, without the
cheese, hold the damn cheese yo, and the Walgreen Lightning too, HE
does not ever seem to wake me back up and out of my horrendous MARK
MOHR NIGHTMARE dreaming sequence. YYYYY
exactly, I do not know, but it has something to do with me
being the CHOSEN HUNTINGTON, and
yes, if you were pointing in my direction, you could merely say the
word, 'CHURCH' over and over, as it
applies 100%. CHOSEN HUNTINGTON-UR CHOSEN
HUNTINGTON, (YOU ARE)!!!!!!!!!!!! I
AM! No, I am not the great Scylla Pink Goddess, and I am
obviously NAUT in HER great city, not while I lay forever trapped
here, along with fucking RALPH
AND SANDY, huh great and
wonderful United States Copyright Office
of 1983, yo yo yo yo yo?????????????
Now
if the Almighty Jehovah cannot effect humankind's free will, as
scriptures seem to indicate, then what a cool way to pass forever, to
try and make all sorts of things happen that would make people do or
feel things that otherwise would never happen. The gods love to play
games. It is the only way to distract from the hellish boredom of
endlessness. My best read from Holy Scriptures is that indeed, the
entire thing is a game, and a very wild and incredible one at that.
Without being able to effect the free will then, with MIND-CONTROL,
how can they do stuff that can have various degrees of effects on the
free will of the Earth population? I am just left to wonder and
seriously ponder if the great PINK GODDESS did not choose me back in
forever, to make me suddenly love HER more than any other human being
ever has, and without using magical
supernatural
power that would override
or negate free-will, and you can replace the words printed in red
with the words SUPER
HIGH
TECHNOLOGICAL
MIND
CONTROL! You have to put
yourself into the shoes, literally, of entities existing in a realm
of fucking total endlessness where nothing ever begins and nothing
ever ends. There simply is NO TIME DIMENSION. Tell me that you would
not be out of your fucking Psyche times an octillion or so, and just
desperately searching for a groupation of games to play, including
how to force someone to love you who has free will, and not use any
cheating MIND
CONTROL techniques?
Tell me that you would be one tiny
mother fucking bit different than any of the
Astral Plane
COINS
and COILS, go ahead, tell
me that! I surely could use a good fucking hearty laugh right
about now, so please, just tell me that!!!!!!!!!
I'm
saying this to you boy. Well Mister Tom Glenn sir, this nightmare
hell around me since you were over at my place at 1802 Robin Hill
Apartments in early 1981 with your guitar, has been to say the very
least, quite fascinating, Mister Spock. I truly and verily cannot say
however that it's been fun.
END
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MIKE
MCNULTY THE SAVANT MIGHT SAY,
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
AND THE
END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Journal
of my last days in Florida, #6
1:20
A.M., Wednesday, March27, 2019
I
was mother fucking murdered yesterday,
Tuesday, WITH MAJOR
ENEMY
NOISE FUCKING PERSECUTION.
I was awakened by those horrible cunt eating scum bags above me with
super loud bangs and hammer sounds, beginning at shortly past nine.
This went on for quite a long time and was extremely unpleasant, and
I plan to eventually complain to management, in one of the building
meetings, in fact, today I was planning on doing just that, but all
sorts of other shit happened at the meeting, and it would have simply
been the wrong time for me to try doing anything about my woes with
these total whack job fuckers from HELL!
Then as expected, after the meeting, the
fucking asshole maintenance men were
suddenly up on my floor working and making
super horrible loud sounds and REALLY SLAMMING APARTMENT DOORS,
and again, this went on and on and on also! Now during the meeting,
one of these maintenance men saw me there as he was going into one of
the janitorial closets right near where I was seated. I have noticed
all of my pussy sniffing fucking life, when
anyone sees me, POOF, they later assault me, all they have to
do is so much as mother fucking see me, and kabingkabongkaboomka and
SUPER POW, they assault me. Somehow these
mother fucking HALLS-FAWCES or (MILITUFORCE) have total
absolute mother fucking MIND CONTROL 3434343434343434
over these types of shituations, causing them to literally operate on
some beyond fucking inconceivable weird autopilot system, yo!
Not
one cunt chewing fucking bastard in this evil sick twisted godsdamn
world believes me no matter how much I promise them that I
truly know wild shit. For example, there is no
such thing as the numerous brain
deficits and diseases. Even old age itself, all illness, all
of it, is caused by the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND
SOCIETY doing various things, and making
numerous alterations in the very fabric that makes up our individual
and unique lives, on a level so invisible that I will
appear as the ENDLESS FUCKING WHACKY
NUTCASE, for even attempting to rationally explain and
discuss these matters on a blog.
For
whatever reason these suddenly appearing building meetings from last
year seem to be causing me GREAT GRIEF
and enemy ASSAULT
AND PUMMELING, I will
eventually use them to ask what I am
supposed to do in an age where you cannot confront a
neighbor about anything, without risking
jail and a criminal record, and they can just endlessly
mother fucking get away with making my life an endless inconceivable
HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!! There must be
some type of action and or recourse for me to take, and I already
know something about this just from being at these recent meetings,
and hearing how a person needs to create a
paper trail of events, and how police do
not want to help anyone make one, for
some incredible reason that I am unable
to fathom under Horatio Shakespeare's drempt of imaginings!
This is very real. I cannot ever get the police to make reports, and
when they do upon extremely infrequent occasion; I
never seem to be allowed to get my copy of it. This very thing
was discussed at the building meeting today, and I didn't have to
initiate it or even participate at all in the conversation, but
I did sit back and glean and learn from it, that there really does
seem to be something to this, and that I am not the only mother
fucking one that this goddamn shit is happening to,
and I have the name of an officer here in town that
just may assist me now IN STARTING MY
OWN FUCKING DOCUMENTATION
AND PAPER
TRAIL; something that I
have attempted to do with utility companies, and police, and other
government officials, ever since this shit
against me all began in the summer time of 1986. My mother and
I were also unable to ever get a police unit or even a county
prosecutor office, to HELP US IN THIS WAY,
after we had horrendous fucking shit happen to us, one such thing
being the example of the August 2, 1996
TERRORIST THREAT ON US, outside of the
Pathmark Grocery Store, in Turnersville, Gloucester County, Monroe
Township, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG!!!!!!!!! But this is merely
one example, and this officer, if nothing mysterious happens to him,
will hopefully be able to eventually help me to put his money where
his mouth was yesterday at that fantastic and
very fucking super informative building meeting, yo!!!!!!!
Obviously
some type of MIND CONTROL
is causing ALL OF THE THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO ME SINCE 8-15-86,
TO HAPPEN. A moron retarded
fucking little snotty bratty child could see this with the lights to
his playpen turned off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It
makes zero fucking sense why ever since these meetings all began
last autumn somewhere, here at the Park Terrace
Building of Fort Pierce, Florida, United States Of America, Earth,
Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, that I get bombarded with super loud
noise attacks, EVERY
SINGLE
MOTHER FUCKING TIME. Or
does it make sense? Think the fucking shit about it for a goddamn
seck, yo. When I played the game of Roulette at the Atlantic City
casinos, I observed an extremely bizarre and yet similar pattern in
many many many many many fucking things while I was playing. I
may not have seen the handwriting on Donald Trump's wall, or
experienced the great camcorder-wall of multiple family secrets,
BUTT, BIG ASS BUTT peeps; I know that
whenever the casinos wanted to cheat me out of my money, all
they had to do was put on a Frank fucking cunt
eating Sinatra record on their fucking cunt eating public
address system, and POW, say bye-bye to the
money, because every single fucking bet I would make, would
lose! But who was behind the curtains making
THEM PLAY SINATRA RECORDS
AT ME? Was it Sarah Martino Callio,
or her dirt bag jerk off friend Robert McGuire,
or even mighty fucking slut sucking Paula King,
for that matter? Let me examine
something here peeps. I may not have the answer to that, now or
fucking ever, BUT, BIG ASS PAST TENTS INSURANCE
FRAUD BUTTTTTTTTT; does it matter? Would I have won any of
those lost bets if I could have absolutely known who was behind the
OZ-CASINO curtains from fucking DOGTOWN (HELL)?????????
Not one bit, yo! I would still have been cheated out of my money. So
now you may be asking the fucking twisted diseased ugly old pathetic
fucking Mountainpen, well asshole, why does playing Sinatra records
loudly at you make you lose? Let me give you a powerful answer. I
DON'T FUCKING CUNT EATING
KNOW,
PEEPS. I can tell you to grab a coin or some playing cards
or anything you wish that offers the chance of you picking a 50-50
item over and over, and see how your luck on average is when you
isolate yourself from any other thing in this world while doing that,
VERSES DOING IT while you listen to some song that you absolutely
despise. Wanna' get the fucking shock of your life, well, then just
you try out there, any and all of you
knowitall fucks, and see if you can prove the cunt lapping
Mountainpen wrong,you just try. You will be crying in your fucking
beer if you do this for a long time. Keep trying to disprove my
words, and you will get so fucking frustrated and angry, you will
change your name to Clarence Wannadate Harris,
and look me up, and try to 'kick my fucking
ass', huh
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP??????
Parallel
event, verses reality-3,
verses the great postulated query of the fucking ages, 'is
Mountainpen a total whackadoodle', well, let us see how this
all fucking stacks up, yo. Could reality-3 be some separate unknown
powerful fawce that even Mister Hall and his great pals just don't
dig yet? I mean maybe when they fucking damage my car, and harass me
with noise, and fuck with my utilities and health, and so much more;
some incredible other thing happens, to cause
the EVIL-EMPIRE
and their evil trilogy
to endlessly appear to operate with this seemingly sentient and
controlled preset reality. Who can ever really know such
things for fucking crissake? Could REALITY-3
be separate? Could something out there happen or be caused
to happen, that then goes onto make those other two things both
happen, rather than seeing this parallel event shit the way that I do
for the most part? Personally, I would only believe in that alternate
idea of truth if someone was able to show me how this same force
works with numbers. Numbers are powerful,
and mathematics, unlike in the mind of the mighty Mister
David Leigh Smith from 1971, is by
no means IMPERSONAL. He insisted that this is so, and my
life has verified that this great educator from the mighty and quite
elusive COOLEY-HIGH-HALL-HELL was
totally full of fucking squirrel shit, at light velocity fucking
squared!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If all is all and reality-3 is some fixed
constant that endlessly causes a parallel in event between object-A
and object-B, I would need to see some type of a lab-box set up where
my 1986 parallel event applied to Roulette, does what it does
endlessly and consistently for reasons that other mathematical
principles can display in one way or another. As stated, I would keep
track of the outside bets in the game of Roulette, and over time,
began seeing how there always would develop a parallel event of one
outcome occurrence over another one, after an occurrence from the
prior spin takes place. For sake of example, after 35 RED-ODD numbers
come out, the following number was LOW 27 times, and was HIGH 8
times. Waiting for RED-ODD numbers and then betting on LOW or 1-18
for the next outcome, would make a player money. Once a good parallel
event is established, it continues. Well, nothing is written in
stone, but for every time it loses, it wins about five other times,
so in the long run I will proclaim, it wins money for the player
using this application of parallel event to the casino game,
Roulette. Numerous additional mathematical procedures can be applied
in tandem with this, to even further increase efficiency of this
system, such as beginning when a parallel is at least 4 times in
variance, say in the example cited above, as soon as the LOW amounts
were 4 times the HIGH amounts, so say for example after 25 RED-ODD
spins, this brings us to HIGH 5 times, and LOW 20 times. At this
point LOW is bet after every RED-ODD outcome, or after any of these
following numbers of the game layout cloth, 1,3,5,7,9,19,21,23,25,27.
Place a purple chip on the gaming cloth outside bet area marked
'1-18', which is LOW. Now this is
continued until any point where the fraction dips below the 4:1 ratio
where you began at 20:5. In at least four out of five games, you will
win spins with an occasional loss, until eventually, the ratio does
dip as the parallel event weakens, but this happens after you have
won quite a few chips, and at 500 bucks a chip, ten
chips is five fucking grand, and even on the green
quarters, that is a nice $250.00
for an easy couple of hours of playing. You will need to stand of
course, since you are using gaming money chips and not playing every
turn. You are considered a side-bettor, and normally, casinos make a
fortune on side bettors, and is why they never frown on side betters,
well, until they win too often, CONSISTENTLY!!!!!!!!!! There are many
other items to still enhance you including what I call total home
bankroll verses game day bankroll, where a method of long run
averaged luck is employed and built into your playing, so that you
will play with less money value while in cold bad luck streaks, and
with more money value while in hot good luck streaks. But this is not
my point. My point is if this wild reality really can alter the
normal 50-50 long running predictions and statistical realities; can
there be some force behind making both of these things happen in the
way that they do? I for one, am not able, with my limited knowledge;
to be able to see any kind of a model in mathematics, to go along
with that theory, BUTTTTTTTTT, that does not mean it cannot be so,
merely that I am too fucking dumb to know how
to construct this REALITY-3 model that might just someday
disprove my beliefs that are based on
my 1986 Roulette playing in Atlantic City, when I managed to
accomplish something that even the great Mister
Einstein said JUST COULD NOT BE
DONE, and that is to win at roulette, consistently with any
system, without also cheating, or as he put it
to quote him verbatim, “unless you wait for the dealer to turn his
head and then cheat”. Again, this is not a roulette lesson
blog. It could be, and this is copyrighted material, so you may use
it to profit yourself, but you may not sell this information for
profit, or I WILL SUE YOU. Still, the discussion here right now is,
IS REALITY-3 WHAT IS TRULY BEHIND THE OZ
CURTAINS OF PARALLEL EVENT? Also, for the record, I believe
the great professor A.E. Used the European word for Dealer, which is
'Croupier'. What people refuse to grasp here, is that all of life's
numerous and quite complex situations can be reduced to a
tri-parameter system and also divided in halves of 50-50, so as to be
able to get above the otherwise locked long running statistical curve
of predictability, of one for two, expressed as 1:2 in a ratio
numerically. The edge may be small, roughly 7
percent, in roulette, because there is no powerful shit involved in
other surrounding factors. When the casinos considered this to
be cheating, and then cheated me back by playing songs that I hated,
making me lose my bets, this was at a far greater rate than 7% over
an otherwise endlessly 50-50 odds minus the small legal vig that they
are legally permitted on every game in the house, as with roulette,
this would be 5.26% if my memory is serving me properly. On
Halloween Day of 1983, they played Sinatra records and did all sorts
of shit to me at the Atlantic City Golden Nugget Hotel-Casino, on
Brighton Avenue, and caused me to lose 32 straight 50-50 bets, and on
quarter level, that was 800 fucking bucks. So parallel event
seems to be in some form or fashion, quite sensitive to emotional
stimulus, and perhaps other unknown factors, that can raise or lower
what would otherwise be a fixed percentage of over-50-50 advantage.
So without even beginning a brand new look into REALITY-3 verses
regular Parallel-Event Technology, there is a ton of data yet to be
fully looked at and carefully examined with professional scrutiny.
This is why I have yet to even start playing with any of that, yo!
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me throughout
this
entire month of
MARCH,
of the year of 2019, WITH MAX-POWER
AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THE
MAJOR
NOISE ASSAULT ON ME, ON MARCH 26, OF
2019, on a
crush-destruct order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13,
CG5555-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.
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©
Mark Wayne Mohr, private electronic-metaphysics
END
TRANSMISSION.
