6:22
P.M., May 29, 2019, WEDNESDAY EVENING
ETERNAL
JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD
SECTION----V
THESE
MOTHER FUCKING DIRT BAG NABES NEXT TO ME, IN UNIT NUMBER 605,
THINK
THEY OWN THIS ENTIRE MOTHER FUCKING BUILDING. FOR THREE
SOLID DAYS NOW, IT'S BEEN YELPING DOGS, BANGING DOORS, AND NOW AT
JUST PAST SIX, YELLING IN THE HALLWAY, AND
HAMMERING ON MY GODDAMN WALLS, AGAIN,
SHERIFF SIR!!!!!! During these past three days of their
shit again, I have also suffered with another
BRAND NEW MOTHER FRUCKING MAJOR ROACH COLONY, AND HAVE SPRAYED
THREE FULL RAID CANS NOW, AND I CANNOT GET RID OF THEM. I CANNOT EAT
OR SLEEP WITHOUT THEM BEING ALL OVER ME AND FUCKING WITH ME, BITING
ME, COMING ONTO MY PLATE, AND SINCE THE FUCKING COPS TELL ME THERE IS
NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT THIS SHERIFF SIR, I WILL SEE WHAT THE FLORIDA
MOTHER FUCKING BOARD OF HEALTHG HAS TO SAY WHEN I SCREAM AND CRY ON
THEIR CUNT EATING SHOULDERS, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
tried sitting down to dinner at just shy of six, to try and watch
some mother fucking cunt eating news on the television, and the
roaches were fucking climbing up on my
dinner plate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to put the food away and
respray the entire mother fucking apartment AGAIN, my third can of
mother fucking raid, FLORIDA BOARD OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES, 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 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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, my enemy neighbors in UNIT
#605, that are viciously persecuting me,
bringing me endless ROACHES
and NOISE,
USING
MAXIMUM
POWER on a
crush-destruct order, under
GENERAL-ORDER-189.
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.
THIS
IS A LEGAL INTERNET DOCUMENT!
This
is a dying utterance and an official
dying mans declaration. Every mother fucking medicine that I
have been legally prescribed, has been fucked with and made
unavailable, and when you take away people's fucking needed meds,
that is attempted first fucking cunt degree murder, that is if it
ever can be proved, and of course, in this power hungry evil empire
nation, little shits like me cannot do one squat eating thing, and we
know it. All I can hope to do is to survive until I turn mother
fucking age 66 years, when my disability monies turn magically into
regular social security bennies, and then I can leave for points
south of this VERY EVIL EMPIRE!!!!!!!!
When I tried to order my BUFFERIN TABLETS at my
Walgreen Online Pharmacy, I am not able to do this for the first
time, and the reason being, another
shortage or some such total fucking
bullshit excuse. I lived through the days of the oil crises
twice over in the cunt chewing nineteen seventies, and learned there
is no such thing as a shortage, and it is all being intentionally
done, normally for the purposes of avarice and greed and filthy
fucking lucre, but with me, it is way more personal, it is TO
COVERTLY
MURDER
ME,
SHERIFF
MASCARA
KIND
SIR. I
need to have my blood kept a little thinner and I pop two Bufferin
Tabs in the morning and two in the evening, to keep it that way, as I
have been doing this now since the early fucking ass nineteen
nineties. This is the first time that I could
not get my Bufferin Tablets, kind Sheriff sir. They have
stopped all of my necessary medications, and now they are going to
murder me for sure by doing this, sir SHERIFF!!!!!!!!!! All
throughout May, they have turned off the bowel death ray beam siege
that they were using for months and fucking cunt sniffing months, and
turned on the other death beam assault, the heart fuck up death ray
sonic system!!!!!!!!!! By coupling this with stopping my meds as well
as my Bufferin Tabs, well, you do the mother fucking math, Sheriff
sir. This is an official dying mans utterance and declaration, sir,
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You
all know I speak the truth. The same force behind everything, the
Bible calls this the devil
and SATAN,
and the AAT folks call this the space aliens,
but Mister Shakespeare said long ago,
“What's in a name”? It's what is
being told that matters, and shit smells like shit and roses smell
like roses, even if we wish to reverse the names of these two items.
This same logic applies whether me ears are well hidden under
me buckin' hat or not, lovely lady from 1974!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA.
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ETERNAL
JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER
MARK
MUD------V
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2019, 'THE BOM'
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POOR
MISERABLE HUNTINGTON CURSED MISERABLE ETERNALLY SUFFERING MARK WAYNE
MOHR, AKA MOUNTAINPEM THE BLOGGER OF WOE WITH ME'S!!!!!!!!
This
whole entire ugly nasty ass fucking turd eating mess is done by and
through the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND
SOCIETY
and the tool they use and employ to get their evil demonic fucking
shit accomplished. That of course is 'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL'
'MIND
CONTROL' and
yes, lots and lots of endless mother fucking nasty ass messy covert
stealthy MIND CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD, HUH WONDERFUL SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA
OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, FLORIDA, DPAESMWG?????????? So let us discuss
this a wee bit more, since
I am being persecuted to death with a major DEATH SIEGE BOTBAR DAY
AGAIN,
kind
sir.
My
life has run in a precise and definite PATTERN
ever since August
15, 1986,
upon my coming out of some wild and beyond Twilight Zone experience,
old TZ or new TZ! My point here however is the word PATTERN.
If you were trying to solve a crime here in your great county kind
sir, and you found a pattern; you
would use that pattern to help you to solve that crime,
and would so instruct all of the LEO's underneath your command to do
so likewise, am
I wrong sir?
Well, my life has absolute perfect patterns too in this MILITUFORCE
NIGHTMARE.
My blogs have accurately told the story of these patterns all
throughout thirteen and a half years of these BOM that began early
in January of 2006, and is still running with nearly 170 kilo-hits.
When I say that every time these
dirt balls next to me in unit #605,
begin another assault on me, after a very short back off period; a
giant ROACH COLONY ATTACK also follows,
is this not a LEGITIMATE FUCKING PATTERN, SIR? Would you dismiss
shit like this if instead of nut case whack job Mountainpen, it was
some huge case like that monster prick that just got sentenced last
week for killing that poor little girl's parents and then kidnapping
her for eighty-eight days? I know what I know sir, and I
know that absolute patterns continue to happen to me,
and just because nobody can explain most of my problems in some
rational logical way, this does not in any way lessen or reverse the
original truths of what is around me indeed being real and happening
to me all of these long fucking years and decades now, since my
leaving the mighty and super strange place called COOLEY
HALL of Haddonfield, New Jersey,
mysteriously removed from the world as was the Haddonwood Health
Club, as soon as I began either blogging about it as in the case of
Cooley Hall, or trying to find the mysterious alien 'SARAH' back in
my Haddonwood days. How much of all of this shit being done against
me could be possible or real, unless we take seriously, Sheriff sir,
the reality of MIND CONTROL, and since the majority of police
officers seem to be religious and of some faith in a supreme being,
then I ask you to find any part of biblical statements that deny any
of the topics claimed to be happening in my life in my Morianity
story and on these Mountainpen Blogs. Mind Control is everything,
and the technology to do it is merely a super advanced radio
frequency control that permits this to become a very real weapon.
Also, the ESS group is not all just the Astral Plane COINS and
COILS. They obviously need worker-bees here in the human world. Look
at the greatest proof to that claim in the BIBLE, the story of GOD
telling MOSES to free the Jewish People from the bondage of their
Egyptian masters and oppressors. Then there is Noah and saving a
small group of humanity, and then Jonah being told how to save a
city called Ninavah. I could list a zillion huge tales from
scripture, proving how the Astral World Authorities (AWA) or the
mighty MILLIONTH-COUNCIL
engages assistance with their plans for humanity, by coming to
certain peeps here, and demanding and commanding them to obey them
and do their bidding. One way or another, Morianity does not open
any new doors whatsoever, me kind Sheriff sir, it
is all about MIND CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And yessir I will be harping big time on this throughout the time
left while I live in total fucking misery here in this PUBLIC
HOUSING HELLWHOLE APARTMENT,
and being persecuted to death by monster scoundrel subskummites from
DOGTOWN, AKA HELL!!!! I would call all the scoffers and disbelievers
in Morianity total quintessential fools, BUTTERCHEESE
and BIG ASS BUTTTTTTT,
I do not wish to be in DANGER FROM THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL (MC), to
quote our Lord Jesus Christ, again, open up the great Holy
Scriptures to the New Testament and read the four gospels where it
begins. You will see why I do not wish to call you all a bunch of
silly and ignorant fools. Poor old Yancy-Firedog Ricky Mark here on
the Earth-Planet, stuck here in misery until my wonderful LIGHTNING
comes into my place and takes me home with HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SLAM,
SLAM, SLAM, SLAM, HOLLER, HOLLER,
AND SO ON, HOLIDAYS
FOR ME
ARE ALL A PART OF THAT GREAT GAME OF SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE'S;
AND ONE OF HER VERY FAVES, IF I MAY BE 'PERMITTED' TO ADD IN HERE
ALSO, UNCLE BABYLON GOZZWALD HEINZ, CAMERA OPERATING MAVIN OF 1972!
So let's take this and start to play this great PEARL HARBOR GAME,
with the great SSJKK. Every time I ever used to do anything at all,
between late 1986 and right through the present time, to in any way
try and either improve my personal life situation in any possible
way, or try and get someone to listen to me and believe my problem
with all of this fucking dog shit is really real, EXPLORATRONS from
the ESS would get into peeps around me, and every time with no
exceptions, make them real noisy, make them do bad shit to me such
as damage my property or worse; and this pattern is beyond any
chance in a trillion fucking trillion to that amount of an
exponential power, to one; against being just a random pattern of
sameness, happening over a near three solid fucking decade period in
time.
Patterns
and timing, and never real protection. Doing things that they can't
do. Making skies just a wee bit blue. Telling them the things I
knew, 'cause I
AM HERE.
They
sure were dancin' away to my mother fucking songs
over at the Moorestown, New Jersey McDonald's that day; huh
Wonderful
Oprah
Winfrey,
like
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW????
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My
life has reverted mother fucking back to the nightmare it was in
1986 when all this mother fucking 'REAL-GOOD-GIRL'
fucking shit all started, on August 15, 1986!!!!!!!! But is this the
only timeless great Paste-In? I think fucking not. How's trying this
shit on for size, Charles Barkley, old BB buddy, YO? yes, the STOCK
MARKET DOUBLED
in this tiny fucking 3 year period of 95-97, and 1997 was as bad for
me as 1986, and now, HERE
WE FUCKING GO ALL OVER AGAIN!!!!!
Hey kid, I wish you a very happy Halloween, and where are your
bucking ears? I know, you are going to tell me that they're under me
bucking hat, you pirate you. ONGUARD,
Mister Russell MCTHAXTON!
Lots and lots and lots of other pirates have stolen my entire life.
Songs, daughters, sanity, you name it Sheriff, as the list is as
endless and exhaustive as the fucking seas of the world!
We
could literally play
the great PEARL HARBOR GAME FOREVER,
and this is exactly what I plan to do in this new book-blog. I'll be
pasting in archived proofs, then tell how it all connects, and then
count these up, one, two, three, and let all of you out here see for
your fucking selves, that this pattern goes into the thousands, and
not all of them are since my blogs started, since these blogs only
go back close to eight and a half mother fucking years, and this
hell on me since 08/15/1986, is quite a bit longer than this; still;
I PLAN TO SHOW ALL OF YOU SOME REAL MIND DESTROYING PROOF, and if
anyone chooses to read along and go JOSEPH PAGET CRAZY, this is an
official mother fucking disclaimer. Take that to the great and
wonderful Toronto Dominion Bank, oh wonderful Mister
Crichton sir.
Get out of his way everybody, old Walt is driving that war ambulance
away from the battlefield. Makes anyone think of another great dude,
such as ol' grampa Speers? Talk about a human warp engine, forget
flesh engines, lovely FBI-LOOPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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HELP
ME, MISTER FREGGIN; BEEGIE AND ROBIN GIBB HILL FARMSHIRE. And Mister
Smith said that mathematics is so fucking totally impersonal. YEAH
YEAH YEAH right, huh lovely Melanie Rollerskates Safka. BANG BANG
BANG BANG, THREE FUCKING DAYS STRAIGHT OF THESE EVIL MONSTER NABES
FROM FUCKING DOGTOWN HELL, YO YO YO!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0523
1:10
AM-EDST ON 22 AUGUST, 2012
ONE
MINUTE SHY OF JANE SLEAZEWEEDSDISEASE
BEGINNING
THE BLOG:
Diana
(lightning) came over yesterday afternoon again for a 7th
time, with lovely beautiful ribbons and Cloud-Ground bolt lightning
strikes, filled with surreal and fantastic colors, lighting up my
very soul. THANK
YOU BABY BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Did
you know, that if any group of ten people, observed any event,
anywhere and anytime, that they would not be able to tell the facts
in full to this event, as they would never match up, not if it was
more than a black cat entered a small red doghouse and an animal
fight seemed to be the result inside or something that quick and
simple. This is not because of any existing reason, not by head
shrinks or scientists or philosophers, as no two persons can
seemingly totally agree on this either, as to the why's. Now add a
videotaping or complete recording of the event. Let each person see
the replay after the event took place, and before they are
individually asked to give a report of what took place. Still, the
same thing would happen. I am perhaps onto a tiny fraction of what is
behind some really powerful OZ-curtains, but just a small fraction,
not the entire deal by any means, still I will tell a little tiny bit
of this on this blog. First I'll say this much. Anyone can hear a
person tell a wild story and all the time they hear the teller of the
story insist on its truth and validity, the listener has a various
degree of beliefs and doubts, as to the full substance and total of
what they are hearing. I challenge anyone to do this, before we go
ahead and march on a ways. Without really thinking so hard you sweat,
begin with one thing that happened to you, I do not care what,
something you said or did, something done or said to you, something
you witnessed, or any of many other possible things, but begin with
some part of each month, going back month after month, and tell me
how far back you get in months or years and months, before you find
it difficult to just get one clear thing in your mind from somewhere
in any one particular month. Also, tell me you do not have to almost
mysteriously wonder, if the other people around you if the item
involves a person as it may or it may not, that is up to you; but be
sure some of them do, and ask yourself just how you think in your
most honest mind, this other person or persons there, at that month,
would be perceiving what you are perceiving. These little mind games
and mind tricks are indeed done at labs that study the mind, but let
me tell you a little bit that you won't hear there or anywhere, in
case you might just be at all interested. Things or events, or
whatever; are not happening at all; and this is the hugest cosmic
illusion of the Virtual Reality game of Waking Life, that we all are
sharing right now. In this game, we definitely have scoundrels and
evil monstrous folks, as well as darn right decent good people.
Naturally, the majority are always a group that lays within some
magical zone, that would exist someplace smack dab in the middle gray
range in-between the other extremes. But excluding the most rotten
wicked evil few at the extreme end of the scale, who might just be
able to kill their grandmother and laugh, for the most part; we all
are trying to coexist in some relatively peaceful cohabitant
environment, in a very weird new global society, here in the present
times. My life has something that war veterans can all relate to, two
things in fact. All though I never served my country in the military,
I share these two following items with those who did. One is a lot of
traumatic experiences, and the other is not always being able to line
things up in a rational time order, where our personality, our life,
our very core beingness, altered in one or more ways and at one or
more times. I have gone out of my way to show a lot of mindsets over
the past five years or so, along with reporting my life on these
blogs, by this I simply mean, I will introduce subjects that could
possibly be related to things I tell and blog about, such as missing
time and forgetting things in strange ways and UFO study and all
things along these lines, or then I may discuss conspiracy theories
or paranormal phenomenon, and then scientifically related topics
such as the Quantum Theories and Dynamics. I can, and have, gone on
and on, and spoken many things; but all of this, is just to get folks
to stop being endless blank tapes, and try and get a few people on
the road towards heavy thinking.
I
can only keep trying to put things together, and I am human, I make
mistakes, I get moody, I get depressed and angry, sue me for being
flesh and blood, I'm sorry. Still, this does not change a thing.
These words just tell you that I've been walking you all through a
lot of wild areas, in the hope of getting you to think on a wider
ranging scale in general, before we step Morianity up to any newer or
bigger levels. Anyone looking hard and tagging along next to me, not
only would, but I could cite case examples from days gone by, who
actually HAVE told me that I am not like anyone they ever knew before
in any way, and that the rules of normal physics seem to even bend
from time to time, around me. Some paraphrased statements made to me
from college educated and degreed people, include and are not limited
to items such as: You go beyond man and his religion. Before meeting
you I could rationally explain anything, but with you I am forced to
admit that things go on around you that I cannot always explain. What
are you into, it is effecting the lives of me, and the entire world
it seems? All three of these things were said to me, one in the
nineties, one in the eighties, and one in the seventies; and folks
you need not be concerned with more than that, for right now. All of
these people had degrees. They graduated from a good college, and
were not fly by night bums, living in a building such as I do, and
living off of public assistance programs. If you think any of this is
what I want, or ever have asked for; you know me about as well as as
you know the next approaching hurricane. If things were all planned
before I ever even left High School, and they were; then they were
just as easily planned before I was even here physically, because the
true reality is not physical and the Quantum Physicists all totally
know this, and it is admitted to. It is on unlimited television
documentaries, but it is not something the leaders of the world are
hoping that the mass population will start thinking seriously about,
so instead; they bombard them with reality shows, talent contest
shows, and other junky entertainment shows of facts and fictions.
This was all a totally laid out plan, from the days when Hollywood
the great, was BORN. I know this. I had a mother who had a wild so
called psychic cousin named Maud Huntington. She knew things. One of
those things that she knew, I dared to sing about in a song that I
sent to the US © Office in 1986 called, “Rip Off Town”, AND THIS
MAY HAVE JUST AS EASILY HAVE BEEN WHAT STARTED THIS ATTACK ON MY LIFE
OR ITS WORSENING FROM WHERE IT ALL READY WAS LAYING SEMI DORMANT IN
THE FIRST PLACE, AS THAT OTHER SONG FROM THE SAME ALBUM, AND WE ALL
KNOW WHAT THAT WAS, 'RGG'.
For
reasons that no one can ever know, many things happen every day,
every hour, every minute, to all of us, so I am no different from any
other living being, not as far as that is concerned. As for citing
one particular thing that happened to me, just tonight in this PHA
Building in Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG, with my next door
subwoofer dude neighbor; he gave me a nice personal concert for an
hour or so, and then it got quiet, and he has not done this in quite
a while, so I asked the GAWNUM
why this event happened as it did and when it did, and out came
PCN-963, and more than
ten-thousand good reasons for what is going on, or maybe we can
forget the thousand part for now, yet, it is still very pertinent,
and I need not go on with that. Many wild things are in the wind all
around me, but things started to take a shape all its own on
Watergate Day, shortly after I decided to redo an old 1983 song
called, “Girl, I'll Tell you Anything”, and make a few changes to
it, very minor ones, Mister American Express Goldman Mountainpen
Miners, but enough to make me see that stuff I thought I just might
be imagining, was not at all imagined, as music and the mind, are two
things incapable of having their pants catch fire. Indeed, the great
inescapable CALLIO CLAN, is just that, no matter what I do, or hard I
try; as this is first a world of E, and then later and after, it is a
world of M. Even the great New-Age author Mister Castaneda knew this,
and wrote about this in his fantastic books back in the nineties.
Thus a young fifteen year old, does not go down to the seashore to
work a summer time job, and end up in a wild series of
intra-nightly-dreaming-experiences with a wild family from the
so-called future; and then poof, the future has been here now since
the days of Approximate Haddonwood Gerard Styles Shadows, of all
shades, light and bright, or dim and dark.
Now
for those not reading these blogs and words at blogger dot com, you
need to go back to blog number 0500, found at the URL given below,
and re-read the story of my mom that I began to print in sections, as
it will continue now on this blog, and be pasted into blog sites
where as far as they're concerned, it seems to just begin here, so go
back, and read it folks. The second URL is to archive older stuff at
the blogger site; but use the first address for the newer stuff.
SUICIDE,
OR WAS IT?, BY GRACE EASTMAN MASON—1977.
Once
more, overwhelmed with chagrin, I visited my cousin for just the
weekend this time. It was such a lovely home, sprawling by the beach
overlooking a bay. Again I collected myself to face the future. My
only request of him was that somehow he continue to provide
transportation to work. I realize now that what I should have said
was - “please give me a little time to find another means to
commute even if I have to move”. But, at times like this, he was
very uncommunicative. He had not even given a reason, nor would he,
for this very sudden and shocking change. Upon returning from my
trip, I asked my doctor for a prescription for my nerves, and told
him why. On the way home from work I picked up the pills at the
store.
Next
morning I met him outside my apartment building ready for work as
usual. I managed to get through the day. But, that night there were
many buzzes and knocks on my door. I did not respond as I had gone to
bed early. When the knocks and buzzes pounded in my ears, I could not
go to sleep. It left me little alternative but to answer the door. I
did. There stood both man and wife, staring at me. The rest is
somewhat vague, but they did come in. I do not recall whether or not
I invited them.
Not
one word did he utter
during their brief visit, but his wife talked continuously. She
reprimanded me for having gone out with him, even though he had not
been home more than three times in the past two years
and during which time their divorce was in process. I was at a loss
for words. It was too much to bear.
Then
came the full impact – the second blow which I was not yet prepared
to handle. As he sat there with nothing at all to say, she pointed
her finger at me and said harshly – “My husband is never to take
you to work again”.
Sometime
during all this, he had quickly walked out of my apartment. I do not
recall at just what point, or why. Everything became hazy.
This
will conclude the reading of my mom's sad story about her office
romance that went horribly wrong, back in the year of
1976.
This
will also conclude the blog for today, other than for my making this
final little insertion here folks. If I had a silver freaking nickel
for every spurious event in the life of me or the close in part of my
family, as well as all the wild stuff in the life of other parts of
the family that will be endlessly beyond blogger limits, I would be
at least a seven figure boy.
END
TRANSMISSION.
WHAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA,
MCNULTY!!!!!!!
THE
GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.
THE
RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE
ETERNAL
JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-H
8:00
POST MERIDIAN
WEDNESDAY
EVENING
29
MAY, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, BOM (Blogs Of Mountainpen)
May
21, 2019 10:00 PM – May 28, 2019 9:00 PM
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So
what would the good folks of lovely Canada wish to hear from
Morianity, as I appear to have lost your ear!
WHAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA.
