NUMDWATATES
NOTE Q1
2:12
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY MORNING
10
SEPTEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
|
Mohr,
Mark W., 1954-
|
PAu000501582
|
1983
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
This
is a wild fucking day today, Sheriff Mascara, my wonderful and
awesome very kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!! I used to call any day resembling
this one, a 'WEIRD DAY' and my definition of weird means weird on
mother fucking steroids for evweebwuddy else, yo!
A
Mountainpen-Weird-Day or an 'MWD'
is something that ranges from numerous things, one of which is major
pendulum swinging in daily fucking events, and I'll
explain this with detailed accuracy now for all you nice folks out
heredahelda and out here Mister Microsoft spellchecker! My old 1988
disco tune after disco had been long dead and buried, had one of
lyrics in the song called, “Prophet Of Nothing”, going as: Yoyo'd
and bounced around, wild and scared from town to town”. I coin lots
of words and yes, if they fit and no 'real words will', fucking screw
it, I will go right ahead and use MY COINED WORDS, as in (yoyo'd).
Lots of nasty annoying fucking dogshit happened to me today while
both still in bed as well as out on some local errands that took me
first to my local bank, the wonderful great and yes lovely OPRAH, WOW
Toronto Dominion.
I trust only this great Canadian bank with total dominion over my
finances, and it is named fittingly and quite apropos, if I may say
so myself, and also my pal, Mister Regis Philbin, pal and brother in
spirit that is, as anyone Paula King has mistreated, I feel for in a
large way, and he can indeed be counted as one of HER MAJOR
CASUALTIES, at least IMHO. You all for the most part know this bank
name in its initials, and those being the TD
Bank. I was originally with
the Commerce Bank, without Mister fictional
Cali Drysdale of course, or any hillbillies, Beverly Hills
90210 zip coded, digicoded, or Privecoded, or Trumpism redneck other
non-Harrah's Hillbillies from any great wealthy recognized
municipalities of the 'Reaganomic groupation'. Some
fucking cunt eating cum puke her hacker is screwing with my
fucking machine, SHERIFF MASCARA, in
absolute fucking violation of my civil and human and constitutional
rights as a LEGAL AND LEGALLY BORN UNITED
STATES CITIZEN and human being of this EARTH-PLANET;
kind sir and great 'LEO', and yessir, THIS IS ALSO AN ADDITIONAL
CRIME OF ELDER ABUSE, OR IT WILL BE TECHNICALLY, IN ANOTHER 80 DAYS
GIVE OR TAKE, WHEN I TURN AGE 65 YEARS
on 12-04!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dock
WONG-WRONG!!!
Dock
WONG-WRONG!!!
Dock
WONG-WRONG!!!
Dock
WONG-WRONG!!!
I
KNOW THAT I AM NOT WONG-WRONG, DOCTOR Huang, sir. I also know that I
am not one bit mother fucking mentally ill nor psychotic, deluded,
neurotic, or WONG 'R'. This is all happening to me, and I am NAUT
imagining one bit of it, or as Arthur Crane put it at TCE in 1991,
“Mark, you're imagining very little if any of this shit around
you”. Allow me to tell you the events of this wild and WEIRD super
fucked up super hot and humid rotten evil diseased day, me' wonderful
awesome peeps out heredahelda and yes Mike Suck Soft, out
hele!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I check every Sunday night for any notes left at
my door by PHA management, and there was none. But I was awakened by
maintenance inspectors this morning at just past nine, to check
things in here. The dude picked a note up off the floor out in the
hallway right at the bottom of my door that WASN'T THERE WHEN I
CHECKED AND LOOKED!!!!!!!!!! He smiled and handed it to me as I said
to him half awake, “I wasn't expecting anyone, I got no notice”.
As I speak at 2:37, I had to stop and kill a fucking roach at my
feet, and also, my upstairs dirtbag nabes from hell are doing some
noisy cunt eating thing in their kitchen that sounds like a drill or
some weird power tool being used. It has been one thing after cunt
lapping another today, and I have not yet even begun to say anything
yet, mister smith, and Mizz Carpenter. I AM
UNDER A MAJOR DEATH ASSAULT AGAIN, AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER
MAJOR FUCKING CUNT EATING SUPER BOTBAR DAY,
AND BOTBAR STANDS FOR BOTTOM
OF THE
BARREL ALREADY
RATED DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Another way of wording it is quintessential
mother fucking Dogtownism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mortimer
Mortino the cock sucking Angel of Death, is passing by my
right side at exactly 2:44
this mother fucking disafsternoon.
September has been a real cunt lapping fucking loo-loo for me, kind
folks out hele!!!! So after I got up and shit, showered, and shaved
(normal bathroom morning duties) in other words, or NBMD for a
shortened abbreviation; I went out on my local errands. When I was at
my bank, I had a very annoying thug honk at me because I had my car
door opened too long and he wanted to come and park his thug car
with his thug rap music blaring away. I also had trouble redeeming
some points on my bank card in this new lovely computerized fucking
world, but it finally worked out. Next time I pay my bill, I can
subtract my redeemable points and lessen next months bill by that
amount. You have to set up a special account to do this, otherwise
you never can get your rightful cash back amounts. I do not want to
fuck with that online dogshit, between my cataracts and shitty
fucking eyesight and my hackers and my troubles with computers and
electronic gismos in general, and total distrust of the criminal
element, I deplore and detest having to do these things. Fortunately
I keep my emergency government cellphone in my bag in the car, and we
were able to set up the account using t hat phone, and the agent at
the bank desk used it and opened the account up. Then after all of
this dogshit, I went to my local Publix and had another super weird
incident go down. I had my heart set on purchasing some Seabrook
frozen creamed spinach. I tried getting this a week ago and there was
nothing and shelves were half bare due to the recently passed
Hurricane Dorian. I get the aisle and again, nothing. It was there
all the time, but somebody keeps changing and burying these boxes and
it is impossible to find, and with poor fucking eyesight it is beyond
impossible. Usually the help there is very on the ball, but today, I
almost got fucked, and again with this wild swinging fucking ass
pendulum dogshit. The dude couldn't help me at first and he finally
brought out a whole different product that I could see right away I
would not like, as I am a fussy fucking eater and I want what I want,
and I will not eat just any mother fucking garbage. I am old and set
in my mother fucking ways, kind Sheriff, sir. Almost at the point of
flipping out, I asked him to read the ingredients and it had cheese
in it. I hate fucking cheese. That killed it if nothing else did. We
talked a while longer and only by the grace of the gods perhaps, I
brought up the maker's name of the product, Seabrook. He went onto
his tablet he was holding, and found it and after one or two minutes
of talking after that, he said to me, “Wait a minute, we have
this”. He took me right back to the aisle where I was before all of
this dogshit began, and buried where I never would have found it in a
zillion fucking years were fifty plus boxes of it. I grabbed seven of
the boxes, and I would have grabbed twice that many, but I have
developed a respect for these horrendous fucking Atlantic storms, and
do not need to waste money if power should go out and my freezer
turns into a hot box resulting in tens or even hundreds of dollars in
spoiled fucking cunt food, yo. But the point is this wild swinging
pendulum today, at the bank, then at the food store, and it is not
totally over yet. Permit me Heinz Cameras Gozzwald Gottwald to tell
you all some more dogshit heredahelda and here peeps, if ye
pweeeeeeeeeeeeeze, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!! This is by no means new,
and is a very fucking annoying back and forth between myself and this
monster-ass NON-NICK MILITUFORCE, what happened after I walked out of
the store. The FAWCES quite obviously don't want me to get my way,
even after they already make me totally fucking cunt miserable with
all the dogshit they put me through. Still they only celebrate when I
go home totally fucking screwed and absolutely miserable. They get
pissed when I, as the hockey world would say it so eloquently,
“SCOOOOOOOOOORE”! I had my heart totally set on a creamed spinach
meal tonight, and I was able to get it. As soon as I walked out of
the Publix, POOF, a CHEMTRAIL was right over me in the sky where I
absolutely COULD NOT MISS IT EVEN WITH MY ERNIE MERKER BLIND EYES,
huh great illustrious United States mother fucking GAP © Copyright
Office???? I jokingly said aloud in my car while driving home, I
should call today's blog (Subtitle, “The
Cream Spinach Chemtrail”) Godda admit folks, a title like
that night get anybody's fucking attention, huh yo? HAHAHAHA, Jane
Sleazeweedsdisease, you missed me with your page eleven of eleven
fucking dogshit, yo yo yo yo yo yo; U-WICH!
I
must be so mother fucking important to this Astral World
Authority (AWA) known by only a handful of Earthers on this mortal
plane of life as the 'MILLIONTH
COUNCIL'!!!!
BUTTERCHEESE
and a big ass BUTT but, recent viewing on educational television
channels has enlightened me to reach conclusions I never have so far
as of yet, concerning Atlantic City, and my very bleak and dark
interactions there, in the CASINO WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MUFON
and other organizations in or maybe not connected to or in the AAT,
have shown me that Las Vegas which is the original SIN CITY long
before it migrated its evil eastbound to New Jersey, is just a couple
dozen miles or so away from the Wright Patterson Area 51 Milituforce
Installation. I see that the same tactics of harassment
are used on people who venture even close to their property, that is
used on me with their evil wicked aerial vehicles. But it goes way
deeper than this, and the plot totally thickens ten fold far beyond
just this surface scratched dogshit. Before things started getting
really bad for me with death health assaults on my body from some
covert source as well as this horrible mother fucking demonic aerial
sieges and persecutions, and right after I met Dave Roth and worked
with him at the 113 Caldor Department Store in Woodbury Heights, New
Jersey in November of 1985, I was moved by my security company three
towns away near the Delaware River, to a place called Bechtel Power
Company. Another DEATH ANGEL hit on my right side is coming to me,
Sheriff KJ Mascara sir, at 3:16 PM. Vegas, Atlantic City, casino
gambling, aerial assaults, and AREA 51 and their UFO related fuckign
dogshit, all has major connecting dots here for anyone above the
level of TOTAL FOOL and who is not blind and all whacked out with
their psychiatric wisdom like Doctor WONG-WRONG from the SVU and his
numerous real-life non fictional associates in the APA!!!
Yessir
sheriff, call me an idiot should you so choose, or anyone else out
here, but to the great AAT peeps; I have
finally accepted what's fucking cunt going on all around me all these
years, and I've put it together from a lifetime of endless
death persecution and siege from this horrendous fucking Milituforce
and these marvelous educational television programs on my Comcast
Cable TV Lineup System. This UFO-ALIEN
shit has been my problem all along, and yes, the great 1984
THROAT SPECIALIST KNEW THIS BACK THEN, and told my mom on the
phone one day when she phoned him from her shipping company office,
“Misses Mohr, That's not his problem”.
They were discussing my unexplainable 'throat
condition' that I came a whisker away from DYING FROM IN
1983. Without the use of four milligrams of Ativan daily, back then
and for many many many many many years to follow, I
WOULD BE LONG FUCKING DEAD, And yes folks, MURDERED
covertly by this monstrous bloodthirsty DEMONIC
MILITUFORCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is the truth Sheriff
Kenneth J. Mascara, the whole truth sir, and nothing but the truth
sir, and yes, butTERCHEESE big ass BUTT
and but BUTTERCHEESE BIG ASS BUTT but,
speaking of being dead or being in the
timeless PURGATORY or on the
ASTRAL-PLANE; my mother owns the
Ricktown Manor Restaurant, while my
father owns the Island Universe diners of
Akoslem, out on the Astral-Plane of existence. My
Astral parents appear to most
definitely be in the 'FOOD-BIZZ',
am I correct here Mister Russell Thaxton, and kid-Kenny
who would be in his twenties today? Well
on the human world, my mom's mom was Mrs. Grace Isabel Huntington,
fifth grand-daughter of Founding Father mister Samuel Huntington and
Governor of Connecticut. However on top of all of thisssssssssssssss,
Mizz SLEK; the money in the family is indeed as they say it in
wealthy circles, “OLD $”, and it it the A&P owner branch of
this mighty and wild H family. A&P Grocery Store was ever larger
than the great PUBLIX, so yes, there is money in the H-fam. To quyote
my Aunt Geraldine Snow to some poor woman visiting her that day when
the Shah of Iran was there at her Narberth, Pennsylvania home, “I'm
impressed”. She was being very nasty and mean because she meant
that in an ugly sarcastic way that really embarrassed that poor
woman. Still, this is the story passed down to me regarding the
events of that day at her home, and no, I was not there. See folks,
some silver linings are indeed underneath every mother fucking dark
cloud in the damn ass skies, yo BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some
fucking BLACK HAT HACKER HAS BLURED OUT MY MOTHER FUCKING PHOTOGRAPH.
SEE WHAT I ENDLESSLY MUST SUFFER THROUGH HERE, SHERIFF. I WILL BE AT
YOUR MIDWAY ROAD OFFICE THIS WEEK FOR SURE, SO PLEASE SIR, YOU CAN
COUNT ON THAT AS WE NEED TO HAVE A VELY VELY SERIOUS TALK, YOU AND I,
YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
|
United States
|
500
|
|
Vietnam
|
24
|
|
Russia
|
20
|
|
Indonesia
|
19
|
|
Ukraine
|
19
|
|
Germany
|
17
|
|
Ireland
|
17
|
|
France
|
11
|
|
Australia
|
10
|
|
Brazil
|
9
|
Sep
2, 2019 6:00 AM – Sep 9,
2019 5:00 AM
|
END
TRANSMISSION & MAGGIE WILL STRIKE!
No comments:
Post a Comment