Wednesday, May 1, 2019

ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD-J








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ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-J

3:33 POST MERIDIAN

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON

1 MAY, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG



Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

© 2006-2019, BOM (Blogs Of Mountainpen)















I am falling under another death siege attack, kind Sheriff KJM, with my enemy mother fucking TRIAD-NABES FROM HELL, here at this wovewee Fort Pierce, Florida Public Housing Authority Building on 6th Street. Nabes are all hammering and banging, and it is coming from the entire triad bunch, across from me, next door to me, and above me. This is one hell of a mother fucking TRIAD NABE ASSAULT, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeez-Louise Surfer Fonty. Let us discuss shit now that ties in all of these mother fucking enemy tools who are obviously endlessly being MIND CONTROLLED to endlessly pick on me and persecute me, without reason, and without cause.













I have been struck hard with another DEATH BEAM ASSAULT on my poor elderly body, from the mighty slugger-Casey Mudville Joyless bunch of subskummites from DOGTOWN (HELL), known as the MILITUFORCE!!!!!!!!!! These diareah fucking attacks are real bad again this year in 2019, me' kind wonderful Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, sir, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!











This ties into my endless persecution perfectly, so let's go with it. Morianity verses the Ancient Astronaut Theorists. If we see the entire mess the way that they do, then we're left to endlessly fucking cunt ponder on why all these crazy things have been done and are still being done to me, ever since I left my high school days and left the Non-Casey mighty COOLEY HALL HIGH HELL of Hopkins Lane in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Milky Way Galaxy! If this is all the way that wonderful and intelligent Professor Kaku and David Childress and many of these famous AAT writers talk about on the television, then why all this crazy nonsense such as “You want the word, go to the word”, or “Hey, your pants don't go all the way down to your shoes”, or “I'm gonna' kill your son and I'll kill you too if you don't get away from my truck”, and believe me folks, we all know that this list could quite easily read on and on and on until almost fucking cock sucking doomsday?!!!!!!!!!!! Still my point is that if I were to accept the AAT stuff in its entirety, then somebody would have to sit me fucking cunt down, and talk to me for a century or two, on just how my wild shit all fits into a bunch of space aliens, who travel to this planet for all sorts of DNA experimentation, abductions, sociological influencing, and the gods only know what other purposes. And then comes THE REAL FUCKING SUPER MEGA KICKER ON TOP OF ALL OF THAT, and this is, why is everything around me somehow magically either turned into quintessential positives in life, or quintessential negatives in life? We all know what is being discussed here, so let's not act like fucking second grade babies, and cover our virgin ears, in case somebody says a nasty ass fucking word for crissake, yo!!!!









You can't have it both ways. There are those out here in the world who have a vested interest in keeping the mountainpen forever on the NUTS & CRACKPOTS LIST. And I think a lot of others too smart to open up their mouth, know some of the reasons why as well. My entire life is practically out of those distant-hyperspace experiences (dreams) where our mother's face suddenly becomes a pizza pie, or a couch becomes a dog, or a cop is suddenly a great keyboard player!!!! I am not joking. My life here in this waking world is damn ass near almost as endlessly crazy as one of those outlandish experiences of the nocturnal nature. So let's move this a bit further on and explore around this horrendous mother fucking shit, huh all Rhonda's all over the place? Call this the '1969 laughing at Ziggy syndrome', but if I don't make a joke here and there out of this goddamn mess, I'll lose my turd eating mother fucking mind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is absolutely no reason that aliens from outer space could care about taking one human being, and come countless light years just to do all of this to me. This leaves Jim Burr and SATAN, as the only true explanation of all of this ungodly disaster after-all. Now I know that the DNA shit is a powerful part of this, and yes, I am not a total fucking short-busser, and I do indeed know that my DNA seems to have been very important as well, to a group of powerful goddesses, fallen angels, alien androids, or Bob Andrews 'WHATEVER'. Still, however it is all fucking shaken up and spewed out, tons of weird and completely unexplainable shit is endlessly surrounding my entire fucking life, and especially the second that I left school, and entered into the adult world and attempted to earn a living. Someone or something absolutely hated me to ever so much as make a thin fucking dime, and I was punished as a result of temporarily doing so. The biggest punishment was 1986 after I was able to play professional roulette and make a consistent living in Atlantic City doing this month after month. Half a year after doing this, POW, I was struck by that powerful wild demonic assault of August 15, 1986, and shit never ever looked back from there!













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





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











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









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







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













December 12, 2006


More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)



This is merely a harmony track, I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.
Mark_from_nj
At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey.  Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. 

Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently.  He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life."  The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title.  He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day.  More importantly, he is insane.  Completely, violently insane. 

Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.  His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet.   And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.  Covertly, of course.   Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.  (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.) 

Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:


If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.











I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,







I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS, DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!









HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 25 April. So where is PEE?


Atlantic County, New Jersey
Public Safety




Search Site:
EGG HARBOR CITY'S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING'S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!




PEE is in another section of the fifth dimensional hyperspace. Aliens have nothing whatsoever to do with this, or PATTY HOLLISTER the great for that matter! I could go on discussing stuff like this forever and never be one bit closer to truth than I am right now, and YYYYYY? Because there is only RIGHT NOW. It is always right now. There is never ever anything except right now. You all know thisSSSSSSSSS, and you do too, Mizz Erica Snakes from AMC!































***MORIANITY PART FIVE***







A child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube site, that will be gone forever very shortly. Your loss folks, not freaking mine. Truths are told cleverly.




















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I am one mother fucking angry dude right about now, me wonderful Sheriff.













END TRAnsdimensional AND END TRANSMISSION.

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