NUMDWATATES
NOTE D1
SHERIFF
SIR; YESTERDAY WAS THE WORST MOTHER FUCKING SUPER
BOTBAR DAY FOR ME THIS ENTIRE YEAR. I SUFFERED A MAJOR
DEATH BODY STRIKE FROM THE CUBAN-CIA SONIC BEAMS, MAJOR
NUKE-TRIAD-NABES FROM HELL, NUMEROUS OTHER ASSAULTS, AND ALSO,
ANOTHER MOTHER FUCKING KITCHEN SINK BACKUP.
I NOTICED THIS AS SOON AS I POSTED UP MY LAST BLOG YESTERDAY
AFTERNOON, AND WENT INTO MY CUNT LAPPING KITCHEN FOR A DRINK. IF I
EVER NEEDED SOME MAJOR BIG-ASS GODDESSDAMN HELP SIR, IT IS RIGHT NOW
TIMES FIFTY FIVE VIGINTILLION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mister
Tesla, who died while renting a
NYC hotel room
by the number of 2733,
and yes, as per HIS
REQUEST, is the only other human
being that the LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA
Z. ARTEEMIS ever
told about HER
magical '27' number.
For him, it was part of some huge equation that helped him go onto
invent a machine that eventually could send electrical power by
signal instead of by wire, just
as cellphones and TV and radio and internet all now works through.
With me, things were more Mister Marcucci-oriented, or so I believe,
as far as the significance to that number. Lightning, unlike Mister
JL does know the future, but you may be thinking of an ordinary
non-ESS member human JL, and the only way this all fits and works, is
to believe that he, along with many other so-called 'magical people'
in my life throughout the past five decades now, are all a part of
this powerful and inconceivably wild group that my Morianity has
named and labeled the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY. Lightning
already knows tomorrow because the electron in
the antimatter structure of reality, is actually the positron
in antimatter space that is traveling in a reversed
direction to our forward concept of the space-time-mind system,
here in matter and forward direction. To quote Mister
Roddenberry and his crew, and lovely Whoopee Diddly
Goldberg, we can think of this, with or without the help of marvelous
and great fiction writer authors of the nineteenth century such as
Mister Samuel Clements, “Time's
Arrow”!!!!!!!!!!! Again with another major fucking
WEEEEEEEEEEE!
Yes folks, HOTEL
ROOM #326, when converted into DIGICODE.
Perdy dern close to 327
may I add, and yes, last night there I was AGAIN, back in some
transdimensional world at some alternate reality 1802
ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS. SLAM-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM, THESE
FUCKING PRICKS ACROSS FROM ME ARE QUITE ANNOYING TODAY, SHERIFF KJM
KIND WONDERFUL SIR. I WILL BE AT THURSDAY'S CRIME WATCH BUILDING
MEETING, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And now my upstairs weirdo fucking dirtbag
triad-nabes from DOGTOWN are kicking in with shit to really complete
this nuclear TRIAD FROM TOTAL MOTHER FUCKING CUNT LICKING DOGTOWN, YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO, and making this a
REAL SUPER MOTHER FUCKING TOTAL
BOTBAR DAY,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh
yes cruel evil demonic sinful wicked rotten world, thisssssssssss
is a very true and real story.
From now on, only the Ancient Astronaut Theorists Society are invited
cordially to my blogs. Everyone else is of course welcome, but I am
no longer writing to any of you. I am not your mother fucking fool,
nor do I choose to be anyone's stinking rotten fool. SPACE-TIME-MIND,
HELL, and the FIFTH DIMENSION,
are all
tied closely together,
and as this final series of blogs until my physical life drudgery and
hellishness is someday finally over, I will continue to pen my story
and my ideas, to all of you. Someday, you will be reading this, and
someday just maybe, it may even do some good for human kind. Hey, and
maybe fucking naut, Mizz Blake from the great and illustrious AT&T
Corporation of 1983's Annoyance Call Bureau!
Yes AAT
Society, YOU
ARE MY TRUE AUDIENCE, AND I SUPPOSE YOU HAVE BEEN, ALL ALONG.
I don't live two dimensionally. I cannot afford to. If ten or twenty
years from now, they learn of me and download my blogs; then as far
as I am concerned now,
they
are DOING THIS, at
that future space-time-mind.
99.9999999 percent of the Earth population is clueless to what I
mean, so whoopee, gee whiz, and ye gads mama taxman Marcucci!!!
Roaches
were much better for about an entire month, then pow, suddenly
starting ten days ago or so, they have
returned with a vengeance, along with the endless mother
fucking construction, going on by the
Unit 605 Corporation, here on my floor
of this public housing building, AGAINST AND IN
VIOLATION OF LEASE REGULATIONS. It is
unlawful to live here and operate
a business!
On
top of my daily mother fucking misery on steroids, jury duty last
Monday, the cancellation of an urgent meeting with the Miami college
professor regarding a fantastic non LARRY-LEE business idea,
tremendous attacks and assaults on my physical health, I have a nasty
mother fucking cunt huffing Atlantic Storm bearing down on me, with a
big fat cock sucking BULLS EYE right on the Treasure Coast and my
town of fucking goddamn FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA! Ain't life beyond super
mother fucking grand, Mister David Charles Roth, sir, oh Latengrate
pal and chum?
Jim
Burr always insisted back in the nineteen-seventies, that
Electromagnetic forces were NOT behind the 'spirit world', but rather
existing because of it. His exact college genius words were, and I am
quoting here, “I see pitchforks and devils behind the curtains of
all of your electromagnetic stuff, Mark. Magnetics is not behind the
supernatural, the supernatural is behind magnetics”. We talked like
this together quite a lot throughout the seventies. What a total
fucking moron windbag, and I was a fool for entertaining his
absurdity. Still, I see the pattern of the GASME in and through all
of this. That is because I had him pulling me one way just as hard as
possible, while concentrically, the mighty and wonderful Mizz
Patricia Hollister was pulling me super hard in the opposite
direction towards chants, candle talks over at the Jerry, magical
foods to partake at exact times and dates, and last but by no means
whatsoever least, the mighty powerful FASCITAR! My dad came back from
Louisiana around this same time when this was happening. I had not
seen him for a decade from age nine through age nineteen. Suddenly,
he is back and for absolutely no apparent rational rhyme or reason.
Then at the end of the seventies, poof, as if programmed by the
mighty HALLS-FAWCES, with some help from Albert Einstein and a few
other nice genius EMF folks, poof, that's that, Mister Esolph,
replaced of course by ATCO, wild dreams, windy houses, and zillions
of paranormal unexplainable fucking items that seem to all be
connected up to this one entity of three magical ladies. Also, when I
went to stay overnight at Selena Dada's
rooming house on Stenton Place, in South Atlantic City,
and pow; along came the great and mighty mind transmitting
alchemist, or 'WHOEVER HE WAS', who
could come and go like magic, as well as place the incredible 'LAW
OF 1' into my mind by
'mental magic', AKA telepathic 3434343434-MC
or TELLOSIAN
MIND
CONTROL. Good old
34, the forever inescapable digital combination from DOGTOWN
or at least from the locale where it exists, the ASTRAL-PLANE
or Purgatory. Just exactly why Lightning
came to me in this current-ME-lifetime, and helped me to remember
with a human-memory, just who SHE really
is in the Purgatory, a gigantic 33 foot high COIL (Astral-Goddess),
is anybody's best guess, guest or no guest, games or no GASME's, yo
yo yo yo yo yo!!!!
Diana
has told me many powerful things, and has taught me incredible
secrets, that IMHO, mortals are far better off NAUT-KNOWING ABOUT,
but hey, yo, what's done is mother fucking twat licking done, as the
old saying goes and has gone for a long long long non-ling time,
Patty Airliners Lang!!!!!!!! All I do know is that Diana showed me
PARALLEL EVENT in January of 1983, as well as what my home looks like
as Ricktafarius, on Linelane #9910, where the great capitol city is,
where the great Teck Bay is, where HER great forest is, where Olympia
Proper where SHE and her family have her home is, where Dogtown is,
even where the great Demigod Psyche Myrathus lives in the
neighboring province, on top of the mighty Ring River, along with
five thousand of his talking giant dogs. She has shown me Ricktown
Manor, the neighboring forest of Huumalon, and many other things such
as Ricktown's great capitol city of Akoslem. Why SHE told me that HER
number is '27' back in 1984 is complicated, and it involves many
magical songs, magical people, and all sorts of major humanly
speaking FORBIDDEN NO-NO'S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Even
during these horrible sieges when EVERY SINGLE SYSTEM FAILS IN
ROULETTE, three things won't fail when applied to the game. Before
getting specific about it, systems break down when NEGAMAGGING is
applied beyond certain points, and the casino
world, AND THE MIGHTY & MAGICAL
PRESIDENT DONALD JOHN TRUMP, KNOW ALL ABOUT THIS, and of
course, will go on denying it if asked or pressed about it, until the
day they die. A child can see through all of it, and it is no
different than their wicked evil fucking rotten
white supremacist friends and how they operate. They know they
cannot say certain things or admit certain things. But those who
follow and love their politics, know what they stand for and exactly
who they are. I wil tell you all something. The great wonderful
comedian and talk show and game show host said a really marvelous
thing quite recently, and I just heard it on my whittle
TV set just last night, Mizz Britney.
He was referencing the great EAGLE and how this mighty large king of
birds is the symbol of America, and how it has both a right wing and
a left wing. This great dude then went onto say that if it had two
left or two right ones, it would only be able to fly around in
circles and eventually just crash to the ground, accomplishing
absolutely nothing. The American political system could take a great
lesson from many many people out here not in Washington or in the
great WH or the great CH. Mister Harvey said a mind bending truth
here, and we should all fall down and practically worship that
fantastic dude!!!!!!!! But back to playing roulette games
hypothetically on paper. Only parallel event, one long game, or
opposite-follow-judgment systems will work, once
the NEGAMAGGING on me gets too mother fucking intense. When I
tried to use roulette to escape my HUNTINGTON
POVERY MISERY CURSE, I was immediately
clocked and clobbered by the MILITUFORCE or HALLS FAWCES,
same-diff. If I ever find any way to reverse the curse or if the M2F
even thinks that I am onto doing this, I will be hit hard and fast,
without fucking cunt mercy or humanity, without justice or belief. No
one will believe my plight or take it seriously. I
will swear to its authenticity and accuracy on MY LIFE AS A UNITED
STATES CITIZEN, and under my GODDESS
SARAH JEHOVAH KRASSLE. Put me mother fucking under any oath,
any time, and I will swear that this is all entirely true.
BUTTERCHEESE and big ass BUTT but, those who do not wish to believe
truths, simply NEVER WILL.
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
WANING
CRESCENT 5:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6
F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6
WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5
WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4
WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
NM=NEW
MOON
FQ=FIRST
FOURTH PHASE
FM=2nd
QUARTER PHASE-FULL MOON
LQ=LAST
FOURTH PHASE
WX=WAXING
MOON (GROWING LARGER)
WN=WANING
MOON (GROWING SMALLER)
G=GIBBOUS
OR LARGER PHASE MOONS
C=CRESCENT
OR SMALLER PHASE MOONS
FQ,
FM, LQ, NM HAVE ONE DAY PHASE
ALL
GIBBOUS AND CRESCENT MOONS HAVE EITHER 6 OR 7 DAY PHASES OF SIZE
ALTERATIONS.
RED
PRINTED PHASE IS THE CURRENT ONE.
This
blogger is signing off at 2:30 on this A.M. Wednesday morning, on
August 28, 2019. Let me run and get me' tin foil now, Mizz Ass-wipe
Terry from WFMU Internet Radio, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!
THIS
GREEN-HAZEL EYED, RH-NEG HUMAN
HYBRID,
IS NOW SAYING:
END
TRANSMISSION, 4 RIGHT NOW, YO.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE C1
Another
lousy day started, first the nightmares, then being awakened by my
asshole next door nabes, this time,some kind of a drilling sound. I
would sell my soul to the mother fucking devil to know just what they
are doing. I know they must be running some kind of a business from
in there, and why they don't move to a private house is anyone's
mother fucking guess. As I speak, the other TRIAD SCUM NABES across
the hall from me are banging in and out. How I love this awesome
wonderful fucking public housing building, WEEEEEEEEEEEE, Sheriff!
I
had to mother fucking stop the blog because the HELLISH
NIGHTMARE MILITUFORCE JUST GAVE ME A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING
DIAREAH ASSAULT. I almost DIDN'T
MAKE IT TO MY CUNT LAPPING TOILET. Maggie is going to mother fucking
counterstrike now. WEEEEEEEEEEEE!
|
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BOTBAR,
meaning
Bottom
Of
The
Barrel
Already
Rated.
HOLY
frikkin' RING-BOATS!
How
I remember that wild night in Oaklyn, at the Dellway Arms
Apartments, Mister
Thaxton;
when you dropped by around one in the morn, drunker than all the
pales of fresh fish in that greedy dude's buckets over at the Stone
Harbor, New Jersey jetty, yo. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
If
I had not let you talk me into burning my incredible and wonderful
BOOL OF THE BEACH, yo, I would have had some mind bending evidence
to share with the Camden County Prosecutor's Office and the ADA
Mister Ron Wirtz Senior, not that I didn't share a lot, including
the 500
million dollar
Koch
College secrets
of the mighty and illustrious Glassboro State College,
along with beyond unfathomable and coincidental automobile accidents
with wild
and incredible musically gifted ESS travelers!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maybe Ron sir, this ALL is a major CODE
PATTERSON
and not a CODE
JOHNSON
after-all; huh National Security Agency and Central Intelligence
Agency? And yes, PAULA
WAYV KING
is feeling
very real
and loves to endlessly fucking taunt and tease me, after she used me
for a damn DNA bag on several occasions, both at age 14
and age 41,
the inverse digits, and we all remember the fucking Philadelphia
Phillies
magic of the won World Series,
in both 80
and 08.
There is power in more shit than just the blood of Jesus Christ,
folks. Wonder working power
and so much more, right Microsoft
Spellchecker
powerhouse????????
To
access the first part of Morianity
where, to quote lovely 'Dark Shadows'
Mizz Sabrina Collins can be
absolutely and perfectly quoted here, “It all began”;
MERELY
CLICK THE LINKS, YO!
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!!!!
There is a lot more to that story, and I will get into it
just as fucking soon as I tell my local county
sheriff what is being done to me for the past two days and
nights, and yessir Spellchecker, the
word 'NIGHTMARES' is totally
appropriate here as well, 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, all of my enemies that are
viciously persecuting me
ON AUGUST 27, 2019, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL
PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS
ASSAULT ON ME, CAUSING ME A
MAJOR HEALTH CRISIS, AS WELL AS A NOISE PERSECUTION WITH
MY TRIAD-ENEMY-NABES AND ANY OTHERS IN MY SURROUNDING
NEIGHBORHOOD, AND IN MY RESIDENCE
BUILDING AND TOWN, AND AGAINST MY PROPERTIES AND UTILITIES;
on a crush-destruct order, under
GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use
G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under
G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and
HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel
sounds. The high-tone is colored RED.
The low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual
beings matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and
singed and destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan,
use your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this
sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD
technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I'
to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the
two empowerization-transmit tones,
or ETT'S.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE C1
2:00
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON
27
AUGUST, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
THE
GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.
THE
RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE
Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
Audience |
WOW,
good old non BUTTERCHEESE number (27)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE to that, Sir Chester-Frank. Three
cubed is a fascinating number indeed. For those who know
anything about the story of the great inventor, Mister
Nicola Tesla; he too was told about
the significance of this number, from “other-worldly”
sources and forces, MISTER
HALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
With me however, this holds a major significance not at all
connected to Mister Tesla, who died while
occupying a NYC hotel room
by the number of 2733,
and yes, as per HIS REQUEST. For him, it was part of some
huge equation that helped him go onto invent a machine that
eventually could send electrical power by
signal instead of by wire, just
as cellphones and TV and radio and internet all now works through.
With me, things were more Mister Marcucci-oriented, or so I believe,
as far as the significance to that number. Lightning, unlike Mister
JL does know the future, but you may be thinking of an ordinary
non-ESS member human JL, and the only way this all fits and works,
is to believe that he, along with many other so-called 'magical
people' in my life throughout the past five decades now, are all a
part of this powerful and inconceivably wild group that my Morianity
has named and labeled the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY. Lightning
already knows tomorrow because the electron in
the antimatter structure of reality, is actually the
positron in antimatter space that is
traveling in a reversed direction to our
forward concept of the space-time-mind system, here in matter
and forward direction. To quote Mister
Roddenberry and his crew, and lovely Whoopee Diddly
Goldberg, we can think of this, with or without the help of
marvelous and great fiction writer authors of the nineteenth century
such as Mister Samuel Clements,
“Time's Arrow”!!!!!!!!!!!
Again with another major fucking WEEEEEEEEEEE!
Yes folks, HOTEL
ROOM #326, when converted into DIGICODE.
Perdy dern close to 327
may I add, and yes, last night there I was AGAIN, back in some
transdimensional world at some alternate reality 1802
ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS. SLAM-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM, THESE
FUCKING PRICKS ACROSS FROM ME ARE QUITE ANNOYING TODAY, SHERIFF KJM
KIND WONDERFUL SIR. I WILL BE AT THURSDAY'S CRIME WATCH BUILDING
MEETING, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And now my upstairs weirdo fucking dirtbag
triad-nabes from DOGTOWN are kicking in with shit to really complete
this nuclear TRIAD FROM TOTAL MOTHER FUCKING CUNT LICKING DOGTOWN,
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, and making this a REAL SUPER MOTHER FUCKING
TOTAL BOTBAR DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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When you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll
drown?
Well, I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am
the one in 1984 from Highland Avenue.
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As
I speak now at a quarter past three, my next
door fucking enemies are HAMMERING AGAIN.
I am going to get to the bottom of just what they are ILLEGALLY DOING
IN THAT COCK SUCKING APARTMENT OVER THERE, IF IT'S THE LAST COCK
SUCKING THING I EVER DO! All day, it is hammering and drilling,
hammering and drilling, AND IT
IS NOT
BEING DONE BY THE DAMN MOTHER FUCKING MAINTENANCE
PEOPLE!!!! Also,
it is they who are slamming their door,
as usual, NAUT the peeps across from me, SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA,
KIND SIR!!!!
Alzheimer's
Disease can be cured, oh wonderful AAT peeps. It is only real because
entities and their high technology keep making numerous
reality-changes. This of course effects how we 'think we think'. As
reality is changed over and over again, it eventually disturbs the
electrical and biochemically related electromagnetic circuitry of the
human brain system. We can take some, but after years of this, it
catches up with us; Mister Dave Speas. I know a lot of huge secrets,
and yes great Senator Sanders sir, a lot of really incredibly giant
ass super HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE ones.
I
am in hell,
and that
is the biggest secret of all.
All of you are just PROPS. You think that you are all real, and even
the mighty Paula King thinks she is REALE, as I know Tom does up
there at the Jersey fucking screwed up shore. Whenever my blogs come
out all redacted and weird, looking
like 'thissssssssssss'
Mizz Erica 1983 Lucci snakes, as well as all other Blogaudians;
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------
--------------------------------------------
---------------------------------
------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------
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------------------------------------
Simply
highlight with your mouse or hit your 'Control-A'-computer key. This
will always allow you the viewer to see what was written and what was
mysteriously redacted, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo. Gee whiz BRAH!
Yes
the fifth dimensions explains all the mysteries
of religion, why our brains get foggy, and literally a million or
three other things we all have once wondered about. I will be slowly
unraveling many such things in thisssssssssss blog, Mizz AMC 'SLEK'.
We will keep marching right along, and now, I am typing only to the
great AAT peeps. If others wish to read and scoff, hey yo, be my
fucking ass guest, yo!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEE!!!!
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
Sheriff
Mascara sir; please help me, unless you want my blood on your hands.
I cannot take much more of this covert mother fucking punishment,
kind sir!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE B1
WEATHER
REPORT FROM THE WONDERFUL TWC (THE WEATHER CHANNEL)
TEMPERATURE
AND SKIES: 90 AND SUNNY
HEAT
INDEX: 102 DGFHT
WINDS:
ENE AT 7 WITH NO GUSTS
VISIBILITY:
10 MILES
HUMIDITY:
61%
DEWPOINT:
75
BAROMETRIC
PRESSURE: 29.95 & FALLING
PREDICTION:
SCATTERED THUNDERSTORMS WITH A 50% CHANCE OF RAIN
AIR
QUALITY IN TOWN: GOOD
My
'CUM-PUKE-HER' is slow, and
acting weird-hacked, FBI, ACLU, State and Federal ATTORNEY
GENERALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
Monday,
August 26, 2019, at 3:00 P.M.
WANING
CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6
F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6
WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5
WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4
WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
Now
I discussed some wild frikkin' dog stenches on the opening of the
blog, and not a whole lot will be added on this following short blog,
other than to add a few small parts to things recently said and told,
starting with that powerful wild vivid dreaming interaction where I
was at my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason's home up in Narberth,
Pennsylvania, and Diana was calling through (Lightning),
and gave me Privecode-#729. She placed
into my head, within 24 hours after being 'awake', whatever that
truly is, that this was not merely one of the Privecode numbers, but
was also a DIGICODE-NUMBER,
and that any number that is not a single or a
triple digit number, converts into a
three digit or 'digicode' number, by
using the following extremely simple formula:
In the case for example of the two digit number of (27),
the far right digit becomes digit number one. The far left digit
becomes digit number two. Then the sum of the digits of the entire
number are added and continue added when necessary, until only one
digit remains that is between a one and a nine. So in the case of
#27, the far right digit is a 7. The far left digit is a 2. The sum
of 27 is two plus 7 which results in a single digit that is a 9. This
is the final digit, so we get 7, 2, and 9. Hence, number 27 has the
digicode of 729. Diana was giving me HER
NUMBER OF 27. When we do this with the four digit number
of 1802, we get 212,
and the area code to quite a lot more than just the Martin
Audio/Video Store, where my RS1500US
open reel tape machine was purchased at, right after I
moved into 1802 Robin Hill. The intersection of the RPL sound
recording labs where I was working in 1980 before moving into the
Robin Hill place, has two addresses. One is 1558 Pierce Avenue. The
other is 1100 State Street. When we do the first of the three
operations of digit transfers, if the digit is a zero, you need to
keep moving back to the left until there is a digit from 1-9. In the
case of 1100, the two far right zeros are skipped and thus, the
digit-1 next to them is used. Doing this, Diana explained to me that
number 1100 becomes 112.
My address at my Mantua, New Jersey home that I purchased in
September of 1979, was 112 East Fifth Avenue. If a number and its
digicode counterpart both have a connection such as this and the
following place at 1802, we can know that an extremely powerful
connection is there, and thus, whatever is happening, it
is of COSMIC VALUE. Not my words here folks, HERS,
Diana's. When the gods speak directly to you inside of your
head, the APA
calls this mental illness. I call this, direct
communication. Now, I am just wondering now what the AAT
peeps will be calling it. All the things I now see on the
educational television channels pertaining to the Ancient
Astronaut Theorists (AAT), I said three and four decades
ago, all the time; and thus picked up the
reputation of being nuts, crazy, insane, and quite the loony bird!
Morianity now will be the topic of future
discussions on television as well, as things
do indeed tend to endlessly
CONTINUE-CONTINUE-CONTINUE-CONTINUE, AND YES,
CONTINUE around me, huh Mister James
Tiberius Burr, of the mighty and illustrious Gloucester City,
in No Joysey, DPAESMWG???
Just
because I have not yet come to see all of the cosmic connections
converted into digicode numbers, does not mean that there is none. I
am working on this. I mean truly the year 1969 is 'HUUUUUUUUUUUGE',
to quote wonderful Senator Sanders, BUTTERCHEESE
and BIG ASS BUTT-but, at the present moment in time, I don't
have knowledge to 1969's digicode number of 917 as far as its meaning
for me. I do however trust implicitly that THERE IS ONE, AND A DAMN
BIG ONE TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
woke up today and went into my kitchen shortly past one this
afternoon, and was greeted by nasty ass stinky roaches. I emptied yet
another CAN OF RAID BUG SPRAY. Ain't life just glorious and GRAND,
Mister Roth sir???????????
Aug
13, 2019 6:00 PM – Aug 20, 2019 5:00 PM
|
|
|---|
|
GLOBAL
BLOG POPULARITY MAP IS NO LONGER 'CAPPABLE' ON THE BLOGGER/GOOGLE
WEBSITE.
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=1f5ea5de-8c4e-45d9-a0a4-07ed8eab4f96'
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JANE
WITCHBITCH SLEAZeweedsdisease JUST GOT ME AGAIN, PROVING I AM MOST
DEFINITELY IN HELL, AS ONLY IN HELL CAN THIS BE REAL, AND NO PLACE
ELSE!!!!!!!!!!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555AND
THAT IS MY DAMN ASS COMPENSATION FOR HER VICIOUS ASSAULT ON ME WITH
ENDLESS HORRENDOUS EVIL UGLY 'ONES'!!!!
Things
such as never ever being able to go through my pitiful days without
seeing the one thing that makes me so angry and sick there is no
mother loving words to describe it, proves to me at least, THAT THIS
IS HELL. But please, I can prove it in a thousand other huge ways
also. I will take anyone out here any time at all, and show you this
is absolutely the truth, as I showed Mister Clarence Harris that day
in Philadelphia, as I showed Mister Roadway Security Officer Joe
Paget, as I showed many others who are not so normal any longer. I
can have you secretly follow me around, and just do the exact
opposite thing that I do, endlessly, and you will become the
wealthiest mother loving trillionaire on the planet. If you see me
bet on BLACK at a roulette game, you bet RED. If you see me go SHORT
on a commodity or a stock, you go LONG. Just go opposite of any and
every damn thing that I ever do, endlessly and forever. If this won't
prove to anyone out here from the mother sucking POPE to the
PRESIDENT, to any of you in the ATT Society, then
tell me what I should do then TO PROVE IT TO YOU,
because I AM TOTALLY MOTHER LOVING OUT
OF MY FUDGED UP PATHETIC MIND,
YO!!!!
Missing
time is a huge thing with the UFO people,
and WOW can I tell you some wild true tales from where, yeah folks,
FROM HELL, RIGHT HERE WHERE I AM
ETERNALLY STUCK IN, AND WHERE I SCREAMED OUT TO MISTER 'JTB', BACK IN
THE FALL OF 1976, SCREAMING OUT “HOW LONG WILL THIS CONTINUE
AND CONTINUE AND CONTINUE”,
AND THE ANSWER IS, AND WAS AND, ALWAYS WILL BE; FOREVER
AND EVER AND FREAKING
EVER, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANNY; YE' SICK OLD UGLY GRANNY!
NUMDWATATES
NOTE A1
I
have formed some brand new conclusions over the weekend, and
now I boldly begin a brand new series on my
Mountainpen Blogs. These will be the notes
(journals-diaries-lab-findings), or
whatever words anyone should ever wish to think
of this as. The title, simply is the way that the abbreviation
of this new series would be pronounced, and accented on the first of
the three syllables. The actual letters, for the record, and for
posterity I suppose' would be (NUMDWTAATS),
and here is what these letters stand for: NOTES
UNTIL MY
DEATH, WILLED
TO ANCIENT
ASTRONAUT THEORISTS
SOCIETY. It's my absolute
sincerest hope that I am totally wrong in the following things and
concepts that I will now print onto this blog and later expound and
elaborate upon on many following ones as well. In any case, the near
future 'AAT
Society' is
downloading words and blogs that I still have not yet printed, just
as in the same manner that I always wished to convey to Doctor
Coral Sagan, before the great Star Trek V-GER Probes were
launched, AKA the Voyager 1 and the Voyager 2, with a little
'Houston Humor' for any loyal Trekker fans out here on the net, now,
later, and 'whenever'; that thousands of years
in the future from the middle late nineteen-seventies, and
very far away too, if aliens who may be extremely dangerous, are in
fact really out there somewhere, and capable of transferring
antimatter space, (going backward into time);
then we NOW have just opened this
Pandora's Box, and there is no closing it,
EVER. People, even the greatest minds
on the Earth Planet, at least throughout my lifetime,
think extremely TWO-DIMENSIONALLY.
Hopefully, I can someday, and somehow, do my small part in making
folks realize that truth. This blog will now do what they all have
been leading up to. Not only three and four dimensions of normal
space-time will be involved, but we will bring the Human
Religion System straight into the FIFTH DIMENSIONAL REALITY,
and with an ultimate and very scary concept that
ties in August 15, 1986, my family,
my curse, my
nightmares both awake and asleep; and a zillion other new
blinding lights that pertain to this higher 5-D thinking process.
Long as this blog may be with a lot of boring text, it merely opens
this all up and barely scratches the surfaces of icebergs with tiny
peach-fuzz shaved slivers.
Back
in my previous series called, “Eternal
Journal of Songwriter Mark Mud”, I mentioned the
“HYPERCHRIST”, but I was in
the infancy stages of realizing myself, just how powerful the fifth
dimensional hyperspace truly is when connected throughout the
absolute truths of religious beliefs and religious truths. What I
will say now will have some nightmarish shock value to the vast
majority who do remember their nocturnal activities, and occasionally
have extremely vivid type dreaming interactions upon going off to
sleep physically. For the many in this category, please think, and
remember how even in our wildest dreams, there is a powerful fluidity
to our waking life reality, except in those pizza pies turning into
mama's face and Mister B. Bellflower's Tobycouch type of dreams. In
almost any dreams that make sense at all or are in what Morianity has
called for a decade or more, “Localized-hyperspace”, we do not
switch from having miserable lives to wonderful lives or vice versa,
nor do we have different type of physical health or that much
different of a romantic life or financial life, and for the very most
part, we live in one fifth dimensional of 'bigger-picture' type of
averaged out truth, and it seems to be quite freaking inviolable and
not alterable at all. Looking at my particular life, all of my dreams
in localized 5th DHS (FDHS), are quite horrible, just is
my waking world existence of pure hellishness as well. However, on
the early morning of the fifteenth of August of the year 1986, I
seemed to be in a whole different life where I had the things that
any mentally healthy young dude would wish to have, such as a loving
lovely family, plenty of damn money, peace of mind, good health, and
general overall success. In a time order of some type where it seemed
t me in a mortal state of mental existence when it was the following
day, my life literally changed from semi-lousy to off the wall
nightmare hellish, and monstrous horrific. I now believe that the
place where I was “dreaming in” was my actual real physical life.
All these alternate realities are and have always been, HELL. In
Earthly HELL, no one comes to anyone and says to them, “Hey
numbskull, in case you're interested there Bozo, you're in damn ass
hell, you moron”. It just doesn't happen to people in that
way. But as I type out literally a million following pages from now
until they bury or burn my physical me-self after I croak, I'll be
going into things that no sane mind can deny is not only very real,
but is being covered up by this powerful
Earthly MILITUFORCE, that does a lot more hush hush work than
just covering up UFO and alien junk, because they know that if I ever
can prove the way that HELL ON EARTH really
works, all religion will be wiped out,
and humanity for the most part will be destroyed, UNLESS,
they can miraculously somehow become quickly elevated in their human
consciousness, to things that are truly happening in PLANCK-TIME, or
the spiritual or Astral-World, or (Purgatory). The Catholics have had
it closer and truer than the rest of us for countless centuries. This
is a plane of timeless existence where indeed there is a HEAVEN, a
HELL, and yes, all the rest of this gargantuan energetic-interaction
that sort of lies all in-between and far out and away beyond as well,
yet ALL INSIDE an area too tiny to see in a zillion years, and it all
seems to exist inside of a zillionth of a second as well. This is why
the great Physicist Community calls this Planck Time in its ultimate
particle, the “GOD PARTICLE”, in their still totally
misunderstood way.
There
is NO WAY IN DOGSHIT
that I am not living in HELL
on this EARTH, in my
present human form as MARK
WAYNE
MOHR. For nearly
sixty five years now, I have been made totally miserable by some
INVISIBLE FORCE AROUND ME that is
simply absolutely unbeatable, and just cannot be defeated no matter
HOW HARD I TRY, OR WHAT I EVER DO! This
brick wall around me is not made of brick, and it is not painted
bright cherry red for everyone to see; yet this invisible field of
force is as real around me as any wall made of concrete could ever
be. It is as powerful as any SYFY type of invisible force field. It
will not allow me to EVER have ANYTHING that is
good or positive, and if anyone EVER wishes to prove me WRONG, go
right ahead, IF YOU CAN, Mister Clarence Harris of 1998, sir;
and my best to your boss and my great country tune vocalist as a
younger boy, the Congressman! He indeed was determined to prove me
wrong one day, AND HE ALMOST LOST HIS MIND. The two days that this
great Marine Corps Man almost lost it, was with ME, once at Katie's
Dairy Queen, and once in Philadelphia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember
folks that this was a hardened MARINE. My life goes far beyond
anything that any of you can possibly imagine, WHETHER YOU WISH TO
BELIEVE ME OR NAUT, MIZZ AT&T BLAKE! My first project with the
professor that mike Patterson and I have been trying so incredibly
hard to do flopped and not one single person downloaded the Krystal's
Ball. The second project has been placed on a big hold, since Mike's
car has blown up, and I will not be able to get to the Miami College
to present this to him, as was planned. Some one or something,
Captain Kirk, JUST WON'T EVER ALLOW ME TO CATCH EVEN THE TINYEST
MOTHER LOVING BREAK, and this has gone on day in and day out and year
in and year out, for HALF A CENTURY!!!!!!!!!! No sane person can
think that every single thing can just endlessly GO WRONG for
someone, and it is just endless pure bad luck with nothing else
mysteriously going on behind it. Not in a mother sucking zillion
years! Any time the world or the forces want to prove me wrong, and
get off my back and allow SOMETHING IN MY LIFE TO WORK OUT IN THE
SMALLEST LITTLE WAY, fine, then and only then will I take back these
words THAT I ABSOLUTELY KNOW TO BE 100 PERCENT TRUE AND REAL AND
ACCURATE!!!!!!!!!!
Every
night I am back in the apartment in Oaklyn, No Joysey, called
“Dellway Arms”, on Oakland Avenue.
This is where I had that wild 2007 'dream'
with the PIPE EXPERT GASME GAMES-MAN,
from where, the great CBC-TV show came about shortly thereafter,
called, “THE MENTALIST”.
Everyone knows that this story is true, and nobody will admit it,
same old same old, AKA MARK MOHR IS IN HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!This is where
I resided when Russell Thaxton came over at one in the morning,
drunker than a tank of goldfish, and he got me to burn the BOOK OF
BEACH with him, forever destroying great and needed evidence of my
ATLANTIC CITY STORY IN MY HELL ON EARTH. This is where I lived the
longest time in pre-adult life, it is also where I lived when SARAH
KRASSLE came to me in that WILD DREAM and stole my chain, and on and
on, and yes, it is where I came to live shortly after I entered
puberty and as all of us know, that counts as a huge item in and of
itself. Mike Patterson is very religious and has had me do the same
thing that the great illustrious Mister Jim Burr had me do, back in
the seventies, pray and read my bible and believe and have faith,
year after year, and nothing ever ever ever ever ever ever changes,
but yes, it does CONTINUE AND CONTINUE AND
CONTINUE AND CONTINUE forever and ever and ever, to be nothing but
HELL, and the reason is simple. I AM IN HELL and it is just
that simple, mister Henningsen of the Central Intelligence Agency,
and Mister AdeepS also! Oh well, at least Mizz Sleazeweedsdisease
missed me by a damn nose hair, ha-ha-ha Icabod and Arthur, and John
Gillerlain. If this wasn't HELL, there couldn't be a COOLEY HIGH HELL
HALL, and all of the wild educators that Morianity has labeled the
Educational Department of the Exploratronic Supermind Society
(ED-ESS). WHAAAAAAA!
Here
it is loud and dirty, General Patton sir. I WAS SHOT by some moron
with a high powered rifle out of one of the windows of the Finistere
Apartments that day back in 1975, coming home from Atlantic City
after getting beaten up by my enemies there, King, Callio, McGuire,
and the gods only know who! I was shot and killed. Or was I? Suddenly
I am able to fly through the damn air. Give me a break, who the hell
can fly? Well, I can for starters. I also can move objects such as
diner rotisseries. Without trying to approach all angles on this
first blog, I am saying that realities split off for all of us at
certain points, because all of reality rides a photon wave. If this
were not true, reality could not be scanned, spliced, and altered,
and it most definitely is, all the time. There was one really great
place for me where I had Starburn, where I was happy, and where there
was an ESS entity who admitted to me that all the other bad locales
in the hyperspace is all one big horrible nightmare hell. It is of
course no way that simple, and things will be harped on individually
on many following texts and blog works. I was walking through that
apartment complex mad at the world after being assaulted in Atlantic
City by those beach patrol mascots, and I cursed out the Lord, and
then POW, some idiot shot me dead before I could repent. I died
Christless, and this is the penalty, ETERNAL HELL.
Is
this entire thing still a game of the gods, you may be asking me.
Well, absolutely it is. I am just trying to talk the language of a
really great 'fence strattler' here, you know, religious words when
needed, and then AAT type of terms, also when needed. And as for the
nightmares where I am in Oaklyn, this is a powerful place in my true
fifth dimensional reality, so indeed, I am in this place and then
that place, and all over the damn place.
The
vast majority of readers are thinking right about now, what is this
stupid blog all about. My response to you is, “WOW are you thinking
two-dimensionally”!
Aug
13, 2019 6:00 PM – Aug 20, 2019 5:00 PM
|
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
WANING
CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6
F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6
WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5
WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4
WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
SIGN-OUT
@ 5:16 AM, AUGUST 26, 2019
Oh
well, beyond all great school bus kissing booths from early in the
seventies, run by the John Mashinsky's and Eileen driver daughters of
the world; yeah, oh Sarah! Bridge Sarah's too I guess, but we can
leave Watergate and politics out of this for right now. I think we
are all pretty sick and tired of dirty politicking right now, aren't
we people? Yes, Sarah said to me, “Maybe he'll make you drive back
to Florida”. Well and “OH WELL”, Mizz Ann King Silva; life sure
has turned upside down for me ever since that WILD NOCTURNAL
INTERACTION (dream). Yes sir kind Sheriff Mascara sir, I have to
leave your wonderful awesome county, and FLORIDA, or else IMA DEAD
MAN on steroids!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I know
thissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!
Doctor
JAR, my PCP, gave me an examination in my apartment last night in
some really WILD NIGHTMARE DREAMS. The old Doctor Marcus Welby
returns front and center to my mind. Who the fucking shit makes house
calls in real life after about 1970 or so???? Jesus fucking Christ
Almighty GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho,
MCMCAAONMC-343434343434343434, I am in Florida, at least my physical
body here and now appears to be, dying and ill as it may be. I was at
1802 Robin Hill Apartments in this wild dream, only it looked exactly
like the apartment at 554 White Horse Pike, called the Carriage Lamp
Apartments. Oh boy, Annihilating Ann and Mister fucking Mike Soft
Hell-wrecker. Carey's non-toy LAMP in NY? Well, in any case, Doctor
JAR sir, thank you for doing a Marcus Welby with me in the fifth
dimension, “last night”, sir! Yes, this day was the worst day of
2019 or at least top-5 for 2019, and the past two years or so have
been as bad or nearly as bad as the very first full year of the full
blown Huntington Curse against me, which would be 1987, since it
began on 15 AUGUST, 1986. (Wonderful Oprah Winfrey),
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW!
END
TRANSMISSION.
SIGN-OUT
@ 2:51 AM, AUGUST 28, 2019
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