ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-II

4:32 ANTE' MERIDIAN

THURSDAY MORNING

27 JUNE, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

So here is what I am going to do should I decide not to leave Florida this week with the clothes on me' ol' back, me' kind Sheriff Ken J. Mascara, sir. I will have COMCAST upgrade me to the DVR service, and put in their DVR cable box, replacing the box I currently am using, yo. It is only an additional ten bucks monthly, and now they'll have no mother fucking excuse to play their newest GASME-GAME of the GODS with poor old diseased and elderly pathetic Mountainpen, YO YO YO YO YO YO, SHERIFF, ME' KIND AWESOME SIR!!!!!!!! And now it is a short time later on, and a lot of new freaking dog-stench is happening with this. First, every time I schedule a COMCAST employee to come out to my residence, later on that day, another representative always calls me and cancels it. This is every time now, so I do not know the game being played, only that it is being played, since I was going to make an upgrade, and now I will not be, so the concept of a large corporation not wanting to make more money, is quite alien and foreign to me. I did however manage to learn that it IS INDEED my television that will need replacement. This is why people cannot save money in this very evil empire. Nothing is made to last, it is all planned from the go bat, and it even has a name, and this has been around, imagine this Mister Marcucci, way back long before Mister and Misses Reagan got into power and destroyed this great world forever, and its name is Planned Obsolescence. What I did was unplug the headphones and turn the TV volume up, and then unplugged the red and white RCA jack wires that bring the sound into the TV from the video machine that brings it in from the cable box. But I did it one channel at a time, and learned that my right and white side is working with the headphones due to the way the system in the phones keeps the stereo somehow operating and not splitting the two channels into a monaural mix, but when I just listen to the TV speakers themselves, and just plug the right white RCA wire in, there is no sound at all on that side, and this is causing the weird crackling and cut out sound problems. So I am going to have to get another mother freaking television set over at the Goodwill Store later on this week or next week. So much for ever trying to save a gash darn penny in this miserable rotten nation and planet for that matter, yo! But I woke up this morning at just past four with another problem, and more utility persecution. More utility siege and when else Sheriff sir, but on the electrical number of the month, good old reliable and trustworthy number 27, “little boy”. That's her number, or so she told me in that wild dream at the Golden Nugget Casino is 1984, like freaking darn butt wiping gee and WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Yes I woke up and went into my mother freaking kitchen to get a drink of water and take some medication, and POW, I hear chirping like a darn bird is stuck somewhere in the room, only it was no bird. It was however, my battery back up box that I use to keep my Assurance-Wireless government cellphone charging system and kitchen box fan plugged into. The red light was blinking, and the rotten thing was chirping. The side of this brick unit that has battery back up is shot for absolutely no reason at all, and all was fine when I went to bed last night after watching the eleven of the clock news. Now for no discernable reason whatsoever, POOF, it is just shot to Dogtown. I do not believe that these things are just happening to me out of nowhere. So Sahwee Mister stinking rotten Japanese Ambassador of the World World ll era, up there is Washington, DC-13-600, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!! I'm not buying into this for one lousy butt-wiping seck, sir Sheriff KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR! Fortunately, the other side does work, and just won't allow me the ability to do an emergency phone-charge should power go out for an extended time. It is always something, and these diseased MILITUFORCE peeps wouldn't know what to do without picking on this pathetic diseased puny frail fragile sick elderly man. They have been doing this to me for decades and decades, ever since I was a young man!!!!

Then when I turned the cable system on, actually it never shuts off but when I changed a channel that sort of takes the box off of sleeper-mode, POW, instantaneously I get that monthly emergency system test bull crapola. Actually, I activated my phone also, and one minute or less later, POW. This is when I know that the HALLS FAWCES are totally alive and well and living on the EARTH-PLANET, AND STRIKING ME HARD!!!! Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, Uncle Billy and James Stuart. If he hadn't been born, then Bedford Falls would have been called Pottersville, and in parallel universes where I was not born, a whole lot more changes exist, I promise you all that one. Still, how did Frank Kappa know so much about parallel universes and used it to make such a great movie and story, we must all wonder? I have been in Philadelphia and Atlantic City just about every night for months now, in a series of various PARALLEL UNIVERSES. I wouldn't dare even begin right now to get into things, it is too gash dog freaking fantastic, on quintessential steroids, and so I know better than to 'open up cans of worms that huge, or hornets nests that scary', to quote the mighty, wonderful, and quite illustrious, Latengrate Mister David Charles Roth, who was poisoned by his pal, Mister Jonathan Schau, a fellow Lodge Member of the mighty MASONS, for giving me information about who I truly am, in my DNA FAMILY SYSTEM, through and via the great and non-oz powerful HUNTINGTON'S!!!!!!!!!!

Ever since I was somehow mysteriously put in contact with Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis the (Lightning Goddess of the Earth Planet), the MILITUFORCE has been on me like blue on freaking sky, white on rice, red on blood cells, and black on midnight; Mister Microsoft Spellchecker blackboards from the great destruction of Haddonfield, New Jersey days and all other modern day prophecies from 1971, and great impersonal mathematical formulas and equations and algebraic polynomials. Watch out for those great algebraic expressions, they might prove a whole lot of secret items that have been kept locked away with the crazies, before there were any crazies, huh great United States © Office of all really good curly haired girls and NASA-CURLS? This blog will discuss the FAWCES that humanity calls “LUCK”, the study of it, or rather the LACK OF STUDY BY ANY SERIOUS SCIENTIFFIIC RESEARCHERS, and its MIND BENDING MOTHER FREAKING EFFECTS on the entire human race, from womb to tomb! Actually, it would take me decades to fully explain it all, and you would never most likely get it all. Still, I will then be picking and choosing various key parts and discussing them, as more blog works follow. All great mystery schools and educators, teach all inquisitive chela's that enlightenment itself takes between 15-20 years to fully reveal itself, unlike the magic apple that supposedly fell on Mister Buddha Siddhartha's headphones, or HEAD, Mister Spellchecker Microsoft! But nobody needs to be a fully enlightened master of sound and light or anything else for that matter, to realize that my major attacks by this MILITUFORCE, definitely always comes in the pattern of numerous repeating items, such as from the second that I climbed out of bed to the chirping chipmunks of Alvin and Fiends, or any other crushing stinky candies from Dogtown and KINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gee willagars, yo!!!!

If my formulas don't prove and show to your satisfaction, that my claims are all real, and in light of my nearly fourteen year blogging project in tandem with it, then there simply is nothing else that I can ever do, and I am just casting my great pearls of wisdom into an endless pen of total stinking swine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mock me and disbelieve all of this AT YOUR OWN PERILL, because any professor at a top university in a mathematics department, will have to conclude, upon long and very careful study and scrutiny of my paper-roulette study, that indeed, my story, fantastic as it may appear, concerning the GASMEGAMES-GODS of the spiritual energy realm or Purgatory, before THE BIG BANG; is all true and real, and that reality is just THEM, playing games with ALL OF PUNY PATHETIC HUMANITY, and THAT IS ALL that is, ever was, and ever will be going on here, on this wild fantastic and totally messed up EARTH-PLANET, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!! There is a ton of stuff that I am shortly going to embark on, and every little freaking bit of it is going to completely blow the minds of my freaking BLOGAUDIANS, IPYT!!!!!!! I am making plans to leave Florida forever, and possibly even this entire world. I will not discuss this matter any further, because too many 'people' have the huge goal that they had, back when 'they' were other prior persona's, as was I, and hiding in caves, and writing numerous love songs for my lovely Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, that you all call the psalms. In Quakertown in the early nineteen-sixties, I was still called by all of the youth in the largest playground, “The champion with the black snake”, and that was code for the great sling-shot dude on the Earth-Planet. I did not like giant-attacks then, nor do I nearly three thousand years in the future, in this here and now, as it is always NOW HERE, just as Mister Einstein of Princeton University claimed right along!!!!

[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997

Patty and her magical candles were never any match for her wonderful and awesome pirate jokes however, huh Mister Jim Tiberius Burr of Gloucester SHARK-SHARK City. Watch out there, Misses Cuzz 'Aunt' Ruth Huntington Gottwald of Babyblond, New York (Babylon).

Dudes and duddesses, please know that I never meant to do anything to anyone, and if you stop to really think seriously about my blogs for ten years now that discuss my life for close to a half century of life time; I am not the aggressor here, and have always been just some poor pathetic schmuck who is defending himself 24-7-365.2422, against monstrous frightening aggressors. You go Mister 1967 fist pounding United Nations Mister Khrushchev! You tell them too, Chester Perkowski. Don't let hotels, and radio stations, and shops, and demonic powers, change your life too much; old pal. Tell Secretary of State back in 1969, Mister McNamara, I said so, too, old buddy. Maria Stromyer and 'I WILL BE DEAD', soon; Mister Patterson; you just keep blaring out all of the operatic music you want, lady; because it changes nothing at all. WOW! Yessir/mahm, the WeatherBug cut my link back on the first of May, and that changes nothing either, other than not allowing my wonderful BLOGAUDIANS to get the local area weather from me any more, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Yes sir Mister Deedee Anderton of the greatest law show ever in the history of television, “L&O”, to quote you sir,

WHEN IT STARTS, ''IT STARTS''!

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6—PART-B

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No matter how many things that the Mountainpen could ever tell or say on any blog, the simple truth is that nothing can ever take the place of an open mind and reading various parts randomly, and realizing that no human including the great Mister Einstein, could make this story up!!!!!!!!

The sum total of the pieces and parts of Mountain's life, for those who have studied it on my ten year blog project, is as Dawn-Marie King said so perfectly and accurately with her world famous saying that I think she may have started, “It is what it is”. Still I started things somewhat earlier than this, just by living in Atco, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG, at 134 Norris Avenue. This address, somebody or some group, millions of years ago, already planned and made total sure, that I would live at for two thirds of one year of time. Taking that number-street address's number of 1-3-4, the 34 is beyond unmistakable, as in only ONE 34 that matters, and that is the year that follows of 1984, that is mathematically reached by the two forward mode arithmetic functions, done twice, you know; (34), 3+4=7, 3x4=12. Then 7+12=19, 7x12=84. So now we have the 19 and the 84, and this, when we place these two numbers together, is 1984. But then there is one more magical little piece of symbolism here, at that is the Atco street address, of the home that I rented in 1983, while my choking condition was given to me by my WOMO-MILITUFORCE ENEMIES. We take Dawn-Marie King's magical little “IT IS WHAT IT IS”, and we get 5 total words in her sentence. The first word 'IT' is word-1. The second word 'IS' is word 2. The third word 'WHAT' is word 3. The fourth word (second ) 'IT' is word 4. The fifth and final word (second) 'IS' is word 5. Now in this pasted in sentence below, I have two colors used.

“IT IS WHAT IT IS”

Observe the story this 1983 street address appears to tell, in its quite magical flash-forward state. When you use the word-numbering of 1-5 in this powerful sentence, what comprises the word for the great Babylonian goddess who went onto be used in more sinister and dangerous global problems in this twenty-first century, 'ISIS', is made by combining the word numbers of 25. Then taking the three remaining words, and strung together; this makes the number of the Atco address on Norris Avenue, 134. Oh well, all great Atco, New Jersey residents, ''IT WHAT IT''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That old wonderful sixties Hoffman-trippin'-drug known as LSD, is also known as the great '25', back in the day. Ask any hippie turned yuppy (Young Urban Professional Person) as they became known as in the 70's and the 80's, and they will tell you. It also was called the HAWK, the Travel Agent, and numerous other wild Fascitar names. Those who needed to cheat, cheated. BUTTTTTTTTT folks, the FASCITAR when mastered, which normally takes a couple of weeks of bed-practice and (non-sexual) of course, and no body needs mess around with any dangerous and illegal dope, to travel around, and prove the truths of Morianity. So to quote lovely Patty during days of wild swinging flashlights and swords, “YARRRRRR there me' maitees”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night, shortly before sun-up time, Diana and I were at this lovely waterfall on the Astral Plane, that is about 80,000 feet tall, and about a mile wide, with thundering deafening inconceivable amounts of water, tumbling into a giant purplish-reddish colored lake that is about ten square miles; only on this realm, all three dimensions count; so its depth allows both its 'nestern' and its 'woustern' shores, to actually be a reality to interact with. Even though the depth of this small lake is only about 3,000 feet, this still allows both sides to be accessed. Try that here in waking hyperspace, and you would fall down on your head. Moving this right along, we had quite a talk after she made wild and passionate love to me, and I remember a few highlighted parts of our intense discussion; as it was about my prior weekend back here in my waking life, and in this exact universe where I am typing this now out to all of you, in the immense, and unfathomable gargantuan vastness, of the total combined fifth dimensional hyperspace multiverse. One particular universe in the great fifth dimensional hyperspace jumps out in front of me as I speak type, because it is such a wild and awesome place. I remember saying that I would be afraid of going to prison for decades should I kill an enemy that was being discussed, or that my 'doppelganger' was discussing, and I managed to slip in a slight T3E controlled quick addition, making my double blurt out, I had experienced a dream where I did this and then had to go to jail, and talk about the epitome of a dream within a dream, which was discussed quite often a dozen years back on my Morianity-Blogs, in this dimension of the hyperspace. The lady I was speaking to over in that parallel world, looked at me quite curiously, and asked why I would have to go to prison? I said for murder. She said, “old murder, or new murder”. As things progressed along, I came to learn that after the legal profession had caught up with the technological advancements into things such as laser trace tech and so many other things, instantly struck the me-part of myself from here having this dream, that I was in a place where a space colony had been built and that her son had fallen in love with some musician she had been watching, like those teenage crushes that kids get, and this boy was mildly retarded and couldn't understand that he had died a hundred years ago. He kept yelling something about here she is right there over and over, and then he hit the HOL-CR button on their AVM viewer-recorder. Interestingly enough and without any intention whatsoever on my part, Sir Microsoft kicked in when I typed in the HOLlister's and wrote this. So without exciting Tom Glenn the doubter of my non-fruit qualities from early in 1981, we will move this along. Black Hat Hackers and their MILITUFORCE LEADER/CONTROLLERS hacked out me' ol' Mike-Soft SPELLCHECKER PROGRAM AGAIN, sir Sheriff. I'll finish up and then reboot and correct any red wavy lines that are not part of any Atlantic City Frequency Modulation Radio Stations at the great world famous boardwalk. This kid then hit that button and created a holographic image of this musician who lived on some distant other colony back more than a hundred years ago, and the show he had been watching had just at that very day been received by the networks on that colony. 'Galanet' (Galaxy-Internet) is of course on all space colonies, and connected to home worlds as well, but not in real time. Even when we go to Mars shortly, remember peeps, this world and our world are approximately fifteen minutes away from each other in photon-time, and all of the physical reality and all of us must exist in photon-time or PT as it comes to be shortened into in another fifty years. In any event, after making the image holographic, he was then determined to build a machine that would trace the reality around the image, and reality itself would then come to life. This of course is how this tech was eventually invented in similar ways by all sorts of weird prodigy youth genius minds throughout the great fifth dimensional hyperspace of our incredible metaverse or multiverse or whatever you wish to choose to label it as. Going back to the murder of an enemy, once resurrection-tech is reached, the law eventually must catch up, and it does, and there is no more murder charges, just a lesser charge for killing-temporarily. See how this wonderful computer age is all going to progress into the wildest mother freaking thing that any of you out here could ever hope to possibly imagine, yo?????????? I do not know how that particular story ends, or whether after the kid retraces his musician lover, they ever get together, but that was never really me' ol' pernt to begin with, yo! Just the fact that we all are in for some outlandish future times, THAT, was me' ol' whittle pernt, sir Archie Bunker from queens, New York, and all Stuart and Huntington families too. WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! So if I am saying this to you boy, with or without thrill and joy, Mister Crichton sir, is there any larger meaning to this entire dirty rotten deal straight out of the gates of stinking lousy Dogtown, you wonder???????

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Do I exist in a wild fifth dimensional system or NAUT, Miss AT&T Blake, and great wonderful Sheriff Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida, DPAESMWG?

Yes I have been quite busy in both Atlantic City as well as in Philadelphia this 2019 year, that is, in another world in the hyperspace. My wild ride is getting only wilder, as I appear to be older. The BIBLE makes this claim folks, “Old men will dream dreams and young men will have visions”. Read it for yourself, yo, it is in there, and nobody would have the balls to lie about something in the BIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-HH

3:57 ANTE' MERIDIAN

MONDAY MORNING

24 JUNE, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

Thank you Diana for coming over as I started this blog today. IWALU baby blond and you know that!!!!!! I would give anything in this world if you would come right into my bed with me and electrocute me so that I can be with you forever and ever and ever, lovely baby-blond-girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION!!!!!!!, & WOW & WEEEEEE, WONDERFUL SIR CHESTER-FRANK AND WONDERFUL OPRAH WINFREY, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, KIND SIR, YO; I AM UNDER ANOTHER ASSAULT. AN HOUR AFTER WAKING UP AT AROUND HALF PAST TWO OR SO THIS MOUUUUUUUURNING ME' KIND SHERIFF, THE MILITUFORCE STRUCK ME MERCILESSLY WITH A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING HEAT-DESTRCT-DEATH WEAPON BEAM, SIR, YO YO YO YO YO. Then at 3:41, some mother fucking jerk off slammed their cunt chewing door super loudly, at this ungodly mother fucking hour! JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE-LOUISE, surfer Fonty!

This blog will discuss the FAWCES that humanity calls “LUCK”, the study of it, or rather the LACK OF STUDY BY ANY SERIOUS SCIENTIFFIIC RESEARCHERS, and its MIND BENDING MOTHER FUCKING EFFECTS on the entire human race, from womb to cunt lapping tomb! IMHO this is perhaps the most ignored and under-valued item anywhere, and is talked about only in joke and jest, and those who seem to believe in its real and true powers over all of us, are called to this very day in this so-called enlightened technological age, “superstitious” folks from the dark aged past, roaming the Earth with the now extinct dinosaurs. FOLKS, MY MOTHER FUCKING MORIANITY has now told you that the mathematical formulas created and used by the author named Mountainpen, HAVE ABSOLUTELY PROVEN, that we are all here on this EARTH-PLANET, being used by a bunch of deadly and fucking dangerous 'GASME-GAMES' PLAYING GODS, FROM THE ASTRAL-PLANE (PURGATORY-PLANCK-TIME) spirit-world of Patricia Hollister's candles, that there is nothing whatsoever that any of us can do about it, and that we're all totally and completely mother fucking screwed and fucked, FOREVER. Nice happy thoughts, huh gorgeous Egg Harbor township TWINBAY-DESIRE'???????????????? If my formulas don't prove and show to your satisfaction, that my claims are all real, and in light of my nearly fourteen year blogging project in tandem with it, then there simply is nothing else that I can ever do, and I am just casting my great pearls of wisdom into an endless pen of total stinking swine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mock me and disbelieve all of this AT YOUR OWN PERILL, because any professor at a top university in a mathematics department, will have to conclude, upon long and very careful study and scrutiny of my paper-roulette, that indeed, my story, fantastic as it may appear, concerning the GASMEGAMES-GODS of the spiritual energy realm or Purgatory, before THE BIG BANG, is all true and real, and that reality is just THEM, playing games with ALL OF FUCKING ASS HUMANITY, and THAT IS ALL that is, ever was, and ever will be going on here, on this wild fantastic and totally fucked up EARTH-PLANET, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am making plans to leave Florida forever, and possibly even this entire world. I will not discuss this matter any further, because too many people have the huge goal that they had, back when they were other prior persona's, as was I, and hiding in caves, and writing numerous love songs for my lovely Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, that you all call the psalms. In Quakertown in the early nineteen-sixties, I was still called by all of the youth in the largest playground, “The champion with the black snake”, and that was code for the great sling-shot dude on the Earth-Planet. I did not like giant-attacks then, nor do I nearly three mother fucking thousand years in the future in this here and now, as it is always NOW HERE, just as Mister Einstein of Princeton University claimed right along!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A major right side mother fucking DEATH ANGEL attack is striking me now as I pen this blog at twenty-two minutes past four this diseased fucked up MOUUUUUUUURNING!!!!

Public Catalog

Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997

Yes, you're not the only one who can do such things, Mizz Safka, first and last names, yo!

208-208-208-208, Patty and her magical candles were never any match for her wonderful and awesome pirate jokes however, huh Mister Jim Tiberius Burr of Gloucester SHARK-SHARK City. Watch out there, Misses Cuzz 'Aunt' Ruth Huntington Gottwald of Babyblond, New York (Babylon).

May 18, 2013

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Dudes and duddesses, please know that I never meant to do anything to anyone, and if you stop to really think seriously about my blogs for ten years now that discuss my life for close to a half century of life time; I am not the aggressor here, and have always been just some poor fucking cunt eating schmuck who is defending himself 24-7-365.2422, against monstrous frightening aggressors. You go Mister 1967 fist pounding United Nations Mister Khrushchev! You tell them too, Chester Perkowski. Don't let hotels, and radio stations, and shops, and demonic powers, change your life too much; old pal. Tell Secretary of State back in 1969, Mister McNamara I said so, too, old buddy. Marie Stromyer and 'I WILL BE DEAD', soon; Mister Patterson!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Blare out all of the operatic music you want, lady; because it changes nothing at all. WOW!!!!!!!

The WeatherBug cut my link back on the first of May, and that changes nothing either, other than not allowing my wonderful blogAUDIANS to get the local area weather from me any more, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!

IT'S GONNA' BE ALL RIGHT, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, OR SO I'VE BEEN TOLD IN TH ELATE SEVENTIES. THERE'S A FLAW IN MORE THAN MY THEORIES, MOMMY DEAREST!!!! NO MORE ROACHES IN THE DINNER PLATES PLEASE, YOU WICKED WITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One thing that I do know for sure. This is no theory, and it belongs to Mister L&O Anderton and Ross the 1983 Super Boss.

Yes sir Mister Deedee Anderton of the greatest law show ever in the history of television, “L&O”, to quote you sir,

WHEN IT STARTS, ''IT STARTS''!

THE GREAT AWESOME TWB, YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!

No peeps; this is a quick honest discussion on how I died several times at my Cifaloglio job, and how I am going to die again soon. This time, I doubt I wil return until it is 1969 again, and I trance into myself, as I have done about 200 times now. Why I don't stop this, is anyone's guess; and degenerate gamblers are a group who definitely relate to my behavior of destruction and eternal doom. It explains my ''weird bitter state'' that I developed soon after I tranced into myself, each time. I remembered what was done to me before, and before, and before, and before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, before, and before, and before, and so forth.

Image result for images free funny faces

Whoever out here, from Trump, to the wealthiest people on this planet, to the greatest in any capacity, beware: If you have done this to me, you will pay a stiff fucking price!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAYV or no WAYV. WFMU or no WFMU. How's this for some nice fucking aggression, great and wonderful Bancroft Special Education School, (COOLEY-HALL)??? Enough emotion and anger for you, Doctor Jim Garrigan, and sir David Leigh fucking Blackboards 1970 Smith???????????? OH MOTHER FUCKING SHEEEEEEEEEEIT, YO!!!!!!! Impersonal mathematics, gimme' a mother fucking bweak here, willya', Mizz Margie 1985 Leo from Caldor Store Security????????

70% of my followers vanished, poof, Sir Harry Potter, way more magically than any fictional material ever could be! WEEEEEE!!!!

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But yes, Doctor Shirley Grantglands; you might say from here to hell and back, THAT THIS IS INDEED, MY PROBLEM.I know for a fact it sure as shit isn't your dam problem, back in 1983, or up here in 2014, and yes, I said in my last blog 1896 instead of 1986, a typographical error on my part, or a (PBHE) as we called this when my blogging all began early in 2006. Another possibility if the hell-theory is wrong, is that there is some total absolute MIND CONTROL SYSTEM being employed, to keep so much as one person from ever desiring to contact me and ask me person to person, just what this offer is all about, since I assure you, as I have in the past before this over and over; I want nothing illegal, and I want not so much as a penny. Yet any one of you, if real, out there; has it within your power to make that stock market go down 500 or more points a week for the next half year or so, and by day trading and opening an account in your name, using your computer, you can become a billionaire by shorting the DOW INDEX, as when I am up, IT IS DOWN! If you do not know this ICPE-APE deal by now, you really should drop off of this blog.

JUNE 24, 2014,

TUESDAY MORNING, AT 6:55,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 73 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS STILL HOLDING 100%, and STICKY-YUK.

Since I observed in 1982 that I do not ever seem to die and stay dead, after dying from a fatal situation, and appear to wake up and it all was a dream, just too many times to all be some weird and outlandish coincidence; this is why after a dozen years from my last being poisoned, my health was getting pretty good. Then came a lifetime of abuse 'catching up with me' in this cycle, and it is doubtful that I will be here much longer at the age I am, and instead, I will go to sleep one night, you in this future here will see no more blogs and the world will say I am dead. But I, as has happened more than two hundred times now, will find myself waking up from where this entire adult life was a crazy nightmare, and will find myself back in Mildred's Young class at school. Each time that this happens, I convince myself this life was not a dream, I really had been a grown up man and lived an entire life, but as all dreams fade fast as far as detail and consequence, into the submission of shadowy fantasy, where common sense tells me, no way, it was just a dream, and before too long of a time passes, I am reintegrated with my life as an adolescent with my memories before that in perfect tact as well. The dream part only resurfaces after meeting the music genius, Mister Pedersen, during my midlife crises while trying to find the mysterious Sarah from my past. I never go back far enough to where I can undo and redo the error of not becoming friends with her. Suddenly I will just be trapped, all over again, in the next cycle of roughly 40-50 years, that has played out somewhere around 210 times now, and began in the first place, because of a strange invention, and two strange guests of the ESS, James Burr and Zvonko. Sarah likes to play her fave game every time Pearl Harbor Day rolls around in 1996; another typo, so often on blogs I say Pearl Harbor day in 1997, but this is an error and an obvious mind or machine hack, either way, a (PBHE). When she talks about my guessing these names of guests, she doesn't really mean Mary Moore out on that hotel balcony that day years ago in that lovely green dress of hers. She means the exploratron travelers who are interfering with my life. As this blog continues along, not only will more stuff about the HOW TO with all of this exploratronic shit be talked about; but also, the details of the game she wants me to play, who knows, maybe to even help me breakout of this hell-cycle I have been in for more than 8000 years, and that is just this lifetime. Cycles are merely our own energies at will, deciding to relive the experience in lieu of dreaming the next sequence of dreams only the joke is that all dreams are being dreamed in both time and parallel hyperspace realities, and being stuck in any one dream-set, or lifetime, is merely someone with a tape recorder and a room full of cassette tapes, or to move this up to the digital age, someone with a CD player or computer flash drive player system and thousands of tunes on this thing all digitally patterned to perfection and waiting to be listened to, only the owner of the device decides to fixate on one tune, and play it over and over, until eventually, he or she does indeed, move on and play the other tunes. Something in this life is so powerful that until I get something right about it, I will be stuck endlessly in this dream set cycle or lifetime, playing the endless repeat feature and hearing this endless tune. The only hope of escape, in my opinion right now; lies in this wild game that SSJK wants me to play with her, as she so told me, back on December 7, 1996. Who knows, maybe each time around has small differences. It would seem hard to fathom this,because it is just me refocusing my mind-energies on the life of dreams that I just had, and as I lay dying and ill in my bed, with my abilities, I can go back into myself at a younger age, and would wake up when the body is recharged and rested, only this time, the body is worn out and dies, leaving me again, to be 17 and start over from here, just as I've been doing, and of course no one believes me, so screw them. Why would anyone in this world make up such a wild story and claim it to be real, when they could publish all this great shit as fiction, and eventually some publisher would make me rich. But as stated earlier, this is not about money, not for me. This is about my eternity with the great Sarah Krassle, and even beyond that, never giving up my desire and burning yearning for reaching total nirvana, absolute non existence, a total impossibility for anyone who is an existor, but I still think about it day and night forever and forever. You either exist or you don't exist, and time is only real down in the multiverse. It is not that it is not important to have time in higher dimensional reality, but simply put, time exists as part of ''SPACE-TIME-MIND'', and above the multiverse, there simply is no time, and no space; just mind. Beyond that, Mind all commingled together exists as zero-dimensional void infinity. At this state, even MIND would be as hard to fathom and contemplate, as space-time is, where only mind exists, and can create the space and the time at will, merging it with mind, to create dreaming interactions. But I promised to get a bit into the more down to Earth step by step instructions for mastering the exploratronic realities, and so I will indeed move this along with a few new lines for anyone who so wishes to cogitate on any of this; can do so.

Morianity has caused serious disruptions in the entire cosmos, fifth dimensionally; that I would not begin to address on this blog of today, and if none of the Milituforce attacks on me, beginning in August of 1986, and really, since three years earlier, but in a lesser intense way, had been done to me; there would be no MORIANITY. This is the real time paradox that I used to call an evental-time-warp, back in 1987, and would discuss this with my friend, David Charles Roth, quite frequently. Neither one of us had answers, but as time went along, our theories and our ideas became a collection of concepts that the SYFY CHANNEL would have paid millions of dollars to get their hands on it all if it ever had been reduced into one book that contained all of this. Well let me get to the next part of the lesson about the 3 types of exploratrons, also known as dreamers, and move into why the advanced type or the T3E, can do quite a bit more than just come awake and aware and even dominate without being discovered as a controller, over their doubles in other parallel realities in hyperspace, also called in the German translation used quite frequently in accepted scientific circles, their doppelgangers. Now let us say that you are standing at a roulette wheel and are betting on BLACK or RED bets, trying to winsome money in a casino, as was with the case with me so often, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, through many a year. I would come to observe that I could lose, not counting the green number edge that the house (casino) has legally, but just with the otherwise 50-50 chance of betting on the two colors, with regularity, between 8 and 15 of these basically 50-50 chance bets. It is very hard to win or lose between 8-15 times in a row, something that has a 50-50 chance. Yet over and over, I would begin to log and record that year in and year out, I would get these major losing streaks of between 8-15 straight losses. I would also record how many times I would have a winning streak of anywhere between 8-15 winning bets, not including when a player loses on the green roulette numbers of 0 or 00. Every year for literally two decades, (20 years), I would get 2 or 3 winning streaks, but I would get an average with these years totaled to make an average, of 36 losing streaks. Folks, this is a 12:1 ratio of losing streaks to winning streaks, over a twenty year period, averaged out annually. Twelve to one, and NOT COUNTING the green house vig or edge, just the 50-50 chance bets themselves. Now here is why the world governments are scared of all of my Morianity and me and the forces around me to the point that they would do anything to covertly make me vanish, but they don't dare, assassinate me, not yet or so far, anyway my good people. Once a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON (T3E) becomes quite proficient at dominating their doppelgangers in localized hyperspace; they then always use these doubles as starting points to travel to these other parallel realms, and then they MOVE-OFF-TARGET, (MOT). When they MOT, this means they begin to dream with full awareness through a double of themselves, intentionally at will in a parallel universe they have chosen to be in; and then they wish to take their energy or dreaming essence or spirit essence; words are so meaningless yet people have died over words so I try not to say that too often; but now we have T3E who have traveled to target, as they first must do, and then second, they MOT. The third thing they do is ERNM, or Energetic Reattachment to New Matter. This can be anything they see around them, or even, literally, and no pun intended; ''DREAMED UP''. They can create in their mind a bunch of little grays and a flying saucer. They can locate an empty field where no one is around at pure thought-will, and do things such as this, or literally anything. Now if these dreamers or T3E are from another parallel world to ours, and have chosen this universe to come and do this in, then it is us who will be effected. We all are awake and have a mass existence, and need to expend our energies, moving our massive bodies around; and all manner of other things that waking world folks need to do. They on the other hand are pure energy or dream-essence, and can think and will things into happening. They can create totally weightless bodies that no weapon can injure, they can fly like superman, and the list is as long as their imaginations. Is this how I have managed to fly around here, from first going into a localized parallel universe and creating a weightless spirit-body? If you think long and hard about all of this, you should realize that this is not possible. We can do many things as advanced dream-travelers, due to the way hyperspace works, but defying those regulations that make it all possible and cause it all to function as it does, is against lawtronics, a dangerous thing to even attempt doing, because it has the dire consequences to Astral Plane entities, of turning parts of them into Phase-4-Entities, not born like normal P3E are, but literally coming alive inside of the imaginations and day-dreams and ideas and creations, of those already physically here in bodies, awake and alive, so to speak, physically on this tangible material plane of existence. When I move diner rotisseries or think forward in water and move forward, this is not some dream body, it is me, and if someone shot me, I would bleed nice and red for all the sharks of the sea to come and grab a bite or two or three. Then there are the human sharks as well, so please folks; don't even get me started with those yesterday jerk offs, like Tracy Ullman, and Chris 501 Blues Blum, great folks; and whoever/whatever is really out here, right SSJKK-ISIS? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!

Robin Hill Apartments

2011 Preston Avenue, Voorhees, NJ, 08043

Home >New Jersey >Voorhees Apartments >Robin Hill Apartments

Robin Hill Apartments, Mr. DS.

(7)

Apartment, 208 units 331 Preston Avenue Apt.2011, Voorhees NJ 08043 Map $989-$1279 1-2 Bed Cats OK

Save me Jesus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So there I am playing roulette, in fact, living at 506 Robin Hill, just follow the walk you see and turn right and walk into the court area to the back and you can't miss the four unit system of which one of them was unit #506. This is where I began noticing and keeping track of these losing and winning streaks, so how does all of this fit together, lady who writes about crazy cursing dudes for the mighty WFMU RADIO? Well, I'll tell you. Just grab some cat tail and hold on, Mr. GS. What can I say here, my BRRRRRRRRRR?

So there I am in the casinos, night after night; losing, losing , losing, losing. It took me quite a while to realize that I was being stopped and cheated, NOT BY THE CASINOS, mind you. But by invisible parallel universe dreamers who were there, ON MISSION, to keep me down and out and broke for my entire lifetime no matter what I ever try and do. Hay it is just a little white marble that has to drop inside a little area eventually after the spin momentum reaches a slow point where gravity wins out over the centrifugal force of the spinning, and plop, in it goes, and you either make or lose 500 bucks. Well, when those 12:1 year in and year out ratios made me see just what I was fighting, the ESS; as they could slide that ball into the wrong slot over and over and over and over and over, and the odds that for 20 years, these streaks did this to me, would be about one chance in thirty-eight sextillion, for this to happen just randomly as super super super ass bad luck! Then I realized they can get into people, make them never help me, and always want to just mess with me and hurt me. Now, if this is not HELL, then I am just asking you all, tell me please, what the fucking shit is? Also, just why did the ESS go on this mission to wipe out my life, after my experience in a parallel universe back on August 15, 1986? Well, as I told Jimmy Carter while hurling myself off of the Atlantic City boardwalk railing; and I quote it word for word even after nearly thirty mother fucking years, “I'm dead Mister President”, and as I went over onto the beach,still running down towards the dam ass ocean, I cold hear him yell back at me, and again, I can quote, “I know”. That's what President Carter said to me in a parallel universe. The only chance I could have ever had, if some of this shit after Mildred B. Young, and class trips into fucking Manhattan, are alterable; in some small ways here and there; would be to piece together my LIFE JOURNAL on cassette tape in the summer of 1986 times, and see just what caused this 153 day stay in this wild OTHER ATLANTIC CITY, Mizz Harrah-Sarah Diction-knower!!!!

2006-2014 © MOUNTAINPEN

Original five blogs:

On Blogger since January 2006

Profile views – 2981

My 5 blogs:

Wolf Wolf Wolf. I know three dogs that are blogging, but there may be more out here. Here below is a great link to a super blog. This Dogtown resident is having a blast vacationing on the Earth for a while. Check it out.

YEAH HE'S SAYING, “I LOVE YOU SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, ALMIGHTY TEEN-QUEEN”.

DALMATIANS, their true origin far from Earth, in Sahasra Dal Kanwal. Still, the link below takes you all to a really cool co-blogger of mine at BLOGGER, check it out. You will be glad you did, it is really a cool blog.

http://piperbasenji.blogspot.com/2012/05/dalmatians.html

Well, I am going to crash for a few mother fucking hours, kind folks. Hate me all you want to if that makes you feel like big ass heroes, YO!!!!!!!!!!! And to think I would have done a Highlander on my cousins, for these wonderful wet washcloths!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The formula that I told about absolutely mother fucking verifies that the wild claims in Morianity are all real and true and accurate. One mother fucking day, the world will see these truths, and probably blow itself up as a goddamn result. Now ask me if I mother fucking sive a shit, CUZZZZZ??????

Believe it or naut, Mizz Blake, I have bigger fish to fry than any of this stinking rotten bullshit.

JULY 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5-----WEEK 0---PEEKY RAPED ME UNDER AC CENTRAL PIER.

6 7 8 9 10 11 12----WEEK 1

13 14 15 16 17 18 19----WEEK 2

20 21 22 23 24 25 26----WEEK 3

27 28 29 30 31

YARRRRRRRRRRRRR, me' goddamn buccaneers are underneath me' buckin' hat, and some mother fucking dirt bag jerk off BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKER, just knocked my SPELLCHECKER Microsoft Program out. Boy oh boy oh boy, Uncle Billy! MARCH 1970

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7-------------WEEK 35

8 9 10 11 12 13 14------------WEEK 36

15 16 17 18 19 20 21------------WEEK 37

22 23 24 25 26 27 28------------WEEK 38

29 30 31

So did Chillmo TOM REALE really know about the prior year, under the pier; and was that why he was so goddamn wacked-out with me, when he caught me getting off that jitney bus, after the '70-AC fireworks, on Cornwall Avenue? Or are other 'cornwalls' involved in this gigantic King David messy old mix, yo? Who can ever know, great Copyright Office, breath echos and mother fucking all, yo, huh Bob Andrews? I always thought you made a great congressman, old buddy. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I rebooted my mother fucking hacked cum-puke-her, and got the cunt chewing SpellCHECKER Program operating again, ALLIGATOR HATERS ANONYMOUS TIMES 18! Another mother fucking WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Now I will close out by telling you that mother fucking COMCAST CABLE is playing another one of their games (GASME) with me, more fucking cunt eating ELDER ABUSE, may I also add herein, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!! It has to do with that fucking shit I told on earlier blogs when suddenly, the DVR feature just stopped working normally as it had been since getting my service, and then after I found a way to make it work again, simply by not changing stations before using it at least once after a reboot, and now, for the past week, the sound on my service is all fucked up on every station. However SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, if I do not use the DVR feature, or after a reboot, I simply change to another station which blocks out this feature for the gods only know what mother fucking reason, the sound seems to have resumed back to normal ops. As I said, this is abuse, and abuse on an elder, because it is a hack and it is a game, and I am not buying it for a goddamn pussy chewing fucking ass moment, me' kind sir, and YARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This old fucking buccaneer ain't buyin' into this, nor is he lighting up any of Patty's scary chant candles for any mother fucking seances, yo! As the old Esolph Fables would put it so wisely and eloquently, yo, “And that's that”, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So here is what I am going to do should I decide not to leave Florida this week with the clothes on me' ol' fucking back, me' kind Sheriff Ken J. Mascara, sir. I will have COMCAST upgrade me to the DVR service, and put in their DVR cable box, replacing the box I currently am mother fucking using, yo. It is only an additional ten bucks monthly, and now they'll have no mother fucking excuse to play their newest GASME-GAME of the GODS with poor old elderly fucking pathetic Mountainpen, YO YO YO YO YO YO, SHERIFF, ME' KIND AWESOME SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!