SOOOOO
Here We Go Again Sir Arthur Crane
4:16
P.M., on Tuesday, 28 January, 2020
Netflix/Courtesy
Everett Collection
The
Netflix show ’13 Reasons Why’ made youth suicide a national topic
of conversation.
By
ElisabethBuchwald
Reporter
“Okay”
Sir Latengrate John Atlantic City King your HIGHNESS; and
'daut-Paula' who has perhaps been taken over and MC'd, by some
hyperspace DOPPELGANGER 'other' non-Harrah Casino 'version of her';
my proofs need naut always get into really complicated bullshit with
virtually endless algebraic equations and interrelated geometric
formulas, all stretching off their large collegian blackboards; and
here is a 'WEELWEE FANTASTIC EXAMPLE' of just
how 'simple'
both that Colorado Resident, and Latengrate Organizational Big
Brother, Mister John Henningsen, and I; and no Mike Soft, NAUT
android0.9; but how John and I can be, both heredahelda
and BE HERE!
Just simply examine the facts on this little STATS PAGE. To prove how
either I am being intentionally screwed with continually by the POWER
STRUCTURE OWNERS OF THE INTERNETExplorer0.6 AND THE INTERNET,
just look at the facts. How can I have only 103 page-views on my blog
as shown on this date of 7 January for YESTERDAY'S display, and then
we examine YESTERDAY'S display as the current day but use the STATS
SHOWN BACK YESTERDAY, January 6? It does not compute. If this is not
intentional jiving, then what is it all about? Is it all a part of
the great surreal GASME GODS GAMES, or is the mighty GOOGLE just a
big flawed thirty dollar fly by night computer mom and pop company?
Well, we all know that's not true, don't we, yo? So fine, then one of
you fucking geniuses tell me just WHAT THE DOGTOWN IS GOING ON HERE,
how about it? Just to make it easy, I will display this back to back
for simple and easy viewing. So if someone ever wishes to comment and
provide me with a logical rational reason for this obvious SCREW UP,
then go right ahead, yo! It's all right here!!!
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
All
the items in cosmos are out of 81
possible realities, with some of them connected
into each other, while others NOT.
Using
this formula allows us to make ultimate decisions!
Krystal's Ball
I
just GOOGLED up this info, yo BRAH!
Highest
hourly minimum wage states:
About 183,000,000 results (0.88 seconds)
Search Results
Featured snippet from the web
|
State
|
2019 Minimum
Wage
|
2020 Minimum
Wage
|
|---|---|---|
|
Maryland
|
$10.10
|
$11.00
|
|
Massachusetts
|
$12.00
|
$12.75
|
|
Michigan
|
$9.45
|
$9.65
|
|
Minnesota
|
$9.86**
|
$10.00**
|
•
Dec 6, 2019
Massachusetts HERE I
COME. I am so fucking adddddddahele Governor Desantis and Sheriff
Mascara, yo. WOW-THAT!
The great GOOGLE also says thissssssss: People also ask
Which
state has the highest minimum wage 2019?
|
State
|
2018 Minimum Wage
|
2019 Minimum Wage
|
|---|---|---|
|
Arizona
|
$10.50
|
$11.00
|
|
Arkansas
|
$8.50
|
$9.25
|
|
California
|
$11.00*
|
$12.00*
|
|
Colorado
|
$10.20
|
$11.10
|
•
Jul 1, 2019
Minimum Wage By State 2018 & 2019 | Paycor
www.paycor.com
› minimum-wage-by-state-and-2018-increases
Search for: Which
state has the highest minimum wage 2019?
Which state in the US has the highest minimum wage?
Somewhere
late yesterday or early today, before I went to bed, the MILITUFORCE
HACKERS SCREWED WITH MY COMCAST BOX AGAIN,
causing it to reboot
for no reason,
while I was changing TV stations. Then today when I got up and turned
on me' mother fucking TV set, the
sleeper mode activated,
and I had to go through the menu
options
to get back to regular TV shit. When
two weird fucking electronic things happen within a short time
period,
this is when I can always and absolutely know for goddamn sure, that
I am being fucking screwed with by HACKERS.
Also, those fucking super loud and ANNOYING ILLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAL
COUSINS
from across the hall, in unit 608, slammed real hard, very early
this morning; and then slammed again around two this afternoon, and
I mean earthquake-slammed
their damn door, as this one particular ILLEGAL always has done, and
always will do and Mizz Marotto told me that he is not legal to be
here, but these peeps, like
President fucking Trump, are of course, ABOVE THE DAMN LAW,
and this is why peeps like me have
zero faith or respect in the damn American Justice System,
and YYYYYYYYYY the fucking hell should we for crying out loud,
yo?????????? Give me one good reason and I will gladly change me'
damn mind, yo!
Yes,
the DJIA flew up today after some down times, and as soon as this
happens, the persecution on me always dependably begins, and is as
precise as any Swiss damn ass time-piece, and IPYT! I suppose I can
know that, “I'm going to go through some stuff” now, huh distant
CUZZ Donnie? Don't feel bad Mizz Ex-Ukraine Ambassador, he has been
putting me “through HUUUUUUGE things” too, and for decades of
time now, yo!
Jan
21, 2020 8:00 AM – Jan 28,
2020 7:00 AM
|
Pageviews by Countries
217
|
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, and hallway communicator of hidden
things, Sir Count Marcucci, yo! Yes my old friend, my best to all
great
women of the Orient, Eve's, and apples,
EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JULY
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
The
time was back in 1984, and things all started after Donald J. Trump
opened
up his first casino
in
Atlantic City, New Jersey;
the
Trump
Plaza
Hotel.
Maybe
they did not really all start right here, but to quote the mighty Pat
Robertson of the 700 Club
religious
Ministries, “Things
turned a cornerstone”.
He
spoke of the year 1967when he was discussing this on one of the tapes
that I duplicated for him at the RPL Sound Studios, but I speak of a
totally other turned-cornerstone; kind folks out here, or unkind,
RAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In late September or early October in 2008,
Mayor Levy's son, Robert Levy III, was surfing near his father's
Baywatch Hasselholf Tower, at the Atlantic City Beach, and I was out
body surfing, and he said to me that the public is completely unaware
and clueless of just how resourceful this family all is. He did not
have to tell me this, not for a Joe Berrios Flash-Run back in
1990!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To quote Resident Manager Nate
from the great Echelon Towers Building back somewhere in late 1989 or
early in 1990, “Nobody
can run like Joe Berrios”,
and I may or may naut be spelling his surname correctly, but it is
pronounced as I am spelling it at least,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO
WOW 2 THAT, YO BRAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A
lot of wild cornerstones have been turned, but the one Sir Robertson
spake of as well as the shooting tragedy and death of young Sir
Treyvon Martin, are most definitely TWO HUUUUUUUUUUGE cornerstones,
yo, huh PAT???????????????????? Gee willagars!
BUTTTTT,
that is not the issue for this blog, kind folks. What is the
issue, is 1980, moving into 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, and my
doing those four demo songs, The
Morning Light,
lost
Love,
Love
So High,
and Long
River Blues;
on
April 30th
and
May 1st
of
that year; while simultaneously moving into this place, and doing
my shift at the recording studio where I worked then, the RPL
Sound Studio Labs,
at
1100 State Street, & 1558 Pierce Avenue, Camden, New Jersey,
USA-ESMWG!
Hello,
alive and dreaming here, I am Mark Wayne Mohr. But I truly am
ZERANNISS
ARTHUR YANCY JONES,
from
Dogtown,
and then Sahasra
Dal Kanwal;
thanks to my awesome great teen-queen, SSJKK.
The problem all along folks, is that all the while, her family who
hates me on the Astral-Plane because I dare to love this Almighty
Goddess, in ways that mortals are not supposed to; and as a
result, things for me get ''dreamed-down here in the hyperspace
waking and non-waking realities, where I am being monstrously
mistreated and viciously abused by them, in their
hyperspace-equivalent entity-self-persona's, and some if not the
vast majority of these, all reside in or surrounding and near, the
mighty playground of the planet, AKA ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY,
USAESMWG! When I moved on May 1, 1980, into 1802 Robin Hill, you
have all heard me discuss the wild two ''DREAMING-INTERACTIONS'',
first the LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS deal where SSJKK sings this
incredible song to me and when I come out of this experience, I
knew that I always knew this person, endlessly and eternally, and
yet the song could only be remembered in a couple of tiny bursts,
and from this it was recreated, with some help from Tom Glenn who
went onto do a lot of work with the National Football League;
mighty powerful Jessica Simpson, WEEEEEEEEEEE! The second
interaction was a couple of months or so later on, with the
magical black cat, Gawky Gaukauk who meowed the lottery number
that was to come out that evening in the famous Pennsylvania
Pick-it Lottery, a relatively new invention, as lotteries were
around less than a decade back then, huh Mister Morgan Collins,
and if you don't raise the roof or Mister Kings dogs, then maybe,
just
maybe sir, I won't raise the rent on my Flower Wing!
You
can tell Diana's GAP brother that I said so.
But during the time in-between these two nocturnal events, the
LOIS FOCA and the GAGA, for a quick way of putting this; I entered
a contest, and sent my two disco dance tunes to a radio station in
Trenton, and called myself, “Dynamite
Sound”,
'Stomin' Normin' and Colin, not Cuzz POW! I had no way of knowing
that this TAWF CLAN from hell was in the BIZZ, and had even bigger
plans to get into the music bizz, back then. BUTTTTTTTTT, Mister
War-Hero Levy dynamite resourceful family branches all
notwithstanding here; when I sent that, mister Inductatherm
Allberries Pedersen, I feel that a major time warp was not
breached at all as my Cuzz Trumpie believes. It is all way more
logical than all this fuckiGN time travel horse shit, YO, and
IPYT, you all's out here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe traveling
physically in time outside the normal speed we all pass forward
through it is not part of any of this, but there is another wild
thing, and perhaps much wilder and more surreal than even this.
First, before I go on further, I am man enough to admit my errors,
and even take back and retract shit when I am wrong. When I
enlarged the J-Picture Element Graphic of the WAYV, I realized
that I had misspoken regarding being hacked and having the Trenton
frequency number removed. It was only printed on the J-PEG, not in
any of the shit below on the chart that I paste-copied into my
blog, sorry about that. When I am wrong, I am wrong, right Lenny
Orbach Dirty-dance Briscoe???? I see that my spell checker HAS
HOWEVER BEEN HACKED again, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
rebooted; it is fixed, FCC,
again.
Yes,
good old Kevin Willis from the
great Waste Management Pennsylvania Tulleytown Landfill, and my days
right after the great Manhattan towers came tumbling down. It is
quite an experience to drive down Atlantic Avenue on ACNJ, early in
this millennium, and stop at a light; and hear
your own song blaring out
from a record store, but you get no money or recognition
whatsoever for this, only endless grief, and
teasing, and disbelief from your fellow human citizens. Until
you've walked a mile in these moccasins folks, you truly do not know
the meaning of unfathomably surreal bullshit on steroids, yo; and
THAT, IPY all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
--------DAY
------- AT 11:51,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS %, FEELING LIKE DEGREES.
PREDICTED
HIGH TODAY IS DEGREES.
WIND
IS AT , WITH GUSTS TO .
RANGE
TODAY-----(H-/L-).
THERE
IS NO WAY THAT TOM REALE, IN JULY OF 1970, WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT
UPSET, THAT NIGHT OF THE FIREWORKS; IF
HE WAS NOT ALL PART OF WHAT HAPPENED THE YEAR BEFORE THAT;
AND
WAS NOT ALSO A MEMBER OF THE (GAP) GREAT AND POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY/PEEFOREY!!!!!!!!!!
|
|||||||||||||
|
|
|||||||||||||
People
used to scream at me how nutty and crazy I am, that is until the past
ten years or so when the topic of HACKING is practically a daily
mother fucking occurrence on our news broadcasts, both local as well
as global NEWS! Dave Roth and I would try and get ten bucks out of
our accounts at ATM machines back in the late eighties and into the
ninetires, and during major times of ICPE-APE-TECH TRUMP DEATH SIEGES
(MILITUFORCE) ASSAULTS, ETCETERA, and we could not get our money for
some silly reason or other that would be printed out on our bank
receipt ticket; he would say to me, “Well
Mark, we're being HACKED
AT THE MACK
AGAIN”,
as
the 'Mack' was short
for an automatic
teller machine back then;
when lovely
Taylor Swift was but a tiny little adorable toddler.
Boy oh boy, those were the days my friend, only they are still here,
and they never ever go away, and that totally mother fucking sucks,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
'THE
END';
ALL LOVELY SAVANTS ALL OVER!
The
Quintessential Bi-polarization
4:44
A.M., on Tuesday, 28 January, 2020
I
told the story of David Charles Roth's horrible murder in the
beginning of this third millennium, and spoke of his murderer, Mister
Jonathan Schau. I told how Dave had a predictable habit pattern of
enjoying eating out and especially in diners, and how he would go
directly in and be seated at a booth, order coffee, and then go wash
up in the men's room. This leaves a person who is dining with him who
wishes to do him covert harm with some type of slow poison,
absolutely free t slowly continue this poisoning each time they go
and eat, and David goes to the men's room, as the coffee would be
delivered before he would come back. I would know this as I would
also go with him and observed this totally predictable habit. I fully
believe that Mister Schau poisoned David, as rarely do relatively
healthy males die in their late forties unless they have some
recognized disease or have a very bad ticker, and David had neither
of those things. He made a serious lapse in judgment one day when
after we had several disagreements, over the course of our
friendship, it led him to change his will, and give Mister Schau the
legal position as executor of his estate, and David had an unusual
large sized life insurance policy for someone not making at least
very high five figure annual income. He had, unbeknown to me, listed
me as the executor before he switched over to John Schau. I only
learned this shortly before his death when he informed me that if
anything happens to him, I would be repaid the five thousand dollars
that he just about insisted that I give to another 'pal' of his in
some harebrained scheme of going into our own small contract security
business. Feeling guilty that I had used a portion of my mother's
life insurance money and his pal Mike Devlin had all but stolen it
from me, he wanted to be sure that I would be repaid upon his death
should I be still living. However, I was never repaid, and the large
insurance policy that was meant to go to his mother, was all
absconded by that horrendous monster murderer, John Schau, a fellow
Lodge Mason and so-called pal. Both Schau as well as David were of
course MIND MANIPULATED (Tellosian-Controlled), to do what they did,
for David to switch executors and then for Schau to pull that
unconscionable criminal fraudulent act where somehow he managed to
rip off everyone and was somehow able to direct every penny straight
to himself. I have told this story to several police persons and
other legal authorities, and to quote the mighty Ron Wirtz Senior,
ADA of Camden County in the early and middle nineteen-nineties, “Go
prove it”! Bad decisions made in anger, ALWAYS are detrimental for
people, and this much I absolutely know from my short little
sixty-five year life span in the present ME-PERSONA of Mark Wayne
Mohr. Dave thought his decision was hurting me, and in a way, he got
his way with that, but not really, because his conscience was not
clean and he wanted me to have my money back should he die before me,
and this was blocked from happening because of HIS DECISION. Hem also
wanted his mother taken care of, and this did not happen, and she
literally died of a heart attack as a result of this awful fucking
mess, all within a week or two of the death of her son, David. When
we do things like this, thinking we are hurting others, it is ALWAYS
OURSELVES WHO WE HURT, or hurt the very most at least, and to quote
Sir Dennis Snyder of Elm, New Jersey here folks, “And that's just
reality, son”! There is no way that cosmos itself is not in real
hyper truth, a gigantic huge MIRROR and reflector, and eventually,
what we do will always “come back and GET US”, to quote a very
special lady from early in the nineteen-seventies. The Buddhists call
this thing, KARMA, and other religions and philosophies the world
over, have other similar names and concepts for the very exact same
thing. Everything is always a mere reflection in some way or another,
of what once was. Even my marvelous super
talented daughter knows the power of
these truths, and IPYT everybody out here!!! I am talking
about this incident with Dave and his damn life insurance because it
will so nicely dovetail into what I now will go onto discuss on this
blog, me' wonderful awesome peeps!
It
was Dave throughout a decade and a half of friendship, who said to me
over and over and over again, “We can't keep making bad and stupid
decisions”. That is a quotation I shan't fucking forget for the
next million years, and I hear it literally in me' sleep from time to
time, from several of his hyperspace doppelgangers. There is no
mystery to sleep and dreams, and Morianity truly has uncovered what
is going on, right down to the weird parts where he seem to skip and
bounce, interact with beyond stupid things that never would happen in
waking life, and all of the age old queries held by humanity on just
what really happens when we sleep and dream. Only this blog is not
about that, so I won't go exploding out into any tangents and get
caught going far astray from me' pernt at hand, the absolute epitome
of extremes, or as my blog title reflects by way of a similar
description in nomenclature. Yes, Dave made a vely
vely vely STUPID DECISION by removing me from being his
executor to his will. And yes, who got hurt the worst by that bad
decision on steroids, but a dude by the name of David Charles Roth,
and second to follow, his poor pitiful
'non-Ronstadt' mother! Every time a person has a melt down at
their job and goes out the door for a final time, as
I left the RPL Sound Studio on the eleventh day in March of the year
1981, because coworker Mister Joe Sivo stole one of my two sandwiches
in my lunch bag in the company fridge, who was I hurting? NOT
JOE SIVO yo, but ME!
Yessir peeps, NAUT anyone else BUTTTTTTT, and I mean BIG ASS BUTT and
but, ME, yo! If I had remained at RPL, I would have slowly gone up
the ladder to a higher position, and eventually made a living wage,
perhaps replacing the retiring night boss eventually, Mister Donald
Cialoni, in 1995; allowing me plenty of time to slowly build up
savings and credit, and then eventually buy one or two investment
properties; and my life would not even slightly resemble what it is
now, living here in this mother fucking horrible
roach and rat infested hellhole 'P.H.' BUILDING, in hot oven
Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG!
Think
about stupid decisions like this. Making them, verses not making
them, doing sort of a William Shakespeare with this thing if you
will. On one hand, we would have our lives so completely better and
different than it has become AFTER we have made that dumb ass move
and again to quote me' great daughter here, and it has become “too
late”! I know this made a large impression on here, as
mathematically, the odds on all of those happenstance things in that
great 2009 DVD, directly 'mirror imaging' my life, and things
discussed for three to four years on me' blogs, would literally be a
staggering number that would be meaningless to anyone not in the
science world because we are talking about a few digits followed by
approximately thirty-seven zeros. I speak of my discussions regarding
my mom's nurse pal in Philadelphia back when I was about eight or so
and seven years or so before she was even born. Anyone can read the
blogs about the son of this nurse telling me one day in Philadelphia
at 2041 Chestnut Street in Apartment 24-A, “Sometimes we only get
one chance in this world”, and then I blogged his name; and anyone,
unless they are absolutely totally brain-dead, knows my claims are
completely real here, about my daughter! Still, this is not my point,
and I do not choose to digress into this tangent on this particular
blog writing today. I could literally write a thousand pages to prove
the odds against coincidence, by any accepted mathematician whose
legal testimony in any court proceeding would be absolutely accepted
as expert witness testimony by any judge in this nation. But shall we
move this along here, yo? What could be any further polarized here
than this? How could anything be more sizable in opposing polarities?
Make this stupid decision and have life fall into dogshit, verses
DON'T MAKE IT, and no matter what, THINGS WOULD HAVE TO BE BETTER. If
this ain't quintessential Bi-polarization in a nutshell,
then I honestly do not know what ever would be; oh me' vely great
peeps out here, whoever the Dogtown you
all are!
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
TUESDAY,
JANUARY 28, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 4:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q.
WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
LINKS
TO MY ORIGINAL BLOGS OF THE BOM:
DEAR
SHERIFF KEN MASCARA, SIR:
Several
hours before I got up on Monday, say around quarter past ten give or
take a few damn minutes, a MAJOR OUTSIDE MUSIC ASSAULT STRUCK ME from
some ILLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAL CAR SOUND SYSTEM, and then all day
long, me' mother fucking MAJOR ROACH INFESTIATION has come back after
being significantly better for about ten days or so, and it is here
again with a cunt chewing vengeance, yo! WO to that; Sir Billy
Harner! I believe this may be quite appropriate right about now, yo,
“SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT”!
Jan
21, 2020 6:00 AM – Jan 28,
2020 5:00 AM
|
Making
My Argument For Me While Still Playing Their Gasme-Games
1:16
A.M., on Monday, 27 January, 2020
Depending
on when this blog is read, unless read almost within the time circa
of its posting, usually two hours give or take from the date as shown
above with the time; we all know that my LEEEEEEEGALLY-PAID FOR
“PHOTOBUCKET” PHOTO, is continuously being removed, by some
unknown HALLS FAWCES FORCE, or the MILITUFORCE,
or “WHATEVER”, to quote the great Federal Congressman whom I knew
as a young lad before his days as Congressman Robert Andrews, back in
the start of the summer time in the year of
1975 while I was residing at Apartment
#1118,
at the Linden Hill Apartments,
in Lindenwold,
New Jersey, USA, ESMWG.
Then normally after a short period that ranges from one to ten days
or so, give or take, poof, it comes back again. I of course am not
behind this, nor do I appreciate this
TOTALLY ILLEEEEEEEEEGAL AND CRIMINAL INTERNET BEHAVIOR on the part of
whomever is indeed responsible for pulling off this continuous prank
now for about a year or so now, yo, Sheriff
Ken Mascara, kind sir! You would think that this 'FAWCE'
behind all of this, would be smart enough to see that THEY
ARE ACTUALLY LITERALLY MAKING MY
ARGUMENTS FOR ME REGARDING THESE
GODS-GASME-GAMES; as well as my
claims of continual and constant persecution
and harassment since 1986,
give or take. BUTTTTTTTTT, big ass BUT folks; to them, and with
another great paradox herein throughout the theme of this action
against my civil liberties, mainly my rights to free speech on my
blogs and posting my photo, guaranteed to me under the FIRST
AMMENDMENT of the great UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION; these
games seem to be of ultimate importance within some covert and yet to
be fully understood 'black-ops system' within the MILITUFORCE,
trumping and superseding even the threat and danger of becoming
exposed by the world and the ultimate great vindication of one MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR!Remember that I discussed in
an earlier recent blog about the 'OTHER
PARADOX' of persecuting me and stopping me whenever I
attempt to do anything connected with MUSIC, even though it always
raises the stock market WAY WAY UP FOR YEARS
as a parallel event result, and they ABSOLUTELY
LOVE A BULLISH ECONOMY AND WALL STREET, and persecute me in
order to also get this to happen inside of another powerful huge
parallel event, discussed for more than fourteen years now, on many
many fucking blogs! Me' pernt, Sir Archibald Bunkerqueens is simply
fucking thissssssss:! Dissecting the
mess that surrounds my nightmare fucking endless pathetic and pitiful
Earthly existence, has some CONSTANTS, and some
RULES, that appear to be not only NEVER CHANGING, but simply do not
make sense to me at all, since obviously, I have an extremely
limited knowledge to the full and total inner workings of these HALLS
FAWCES and or the (M2F)
MILITUFORCE! Yes, no matter how we shake this all up and
yes, even with the admitted limited full knowledge to the true total
operations (OPS) of this M2F, 'THEY'
still are making my argument for me regarding what I claim to be real
and absolutely happening to me ever since
August of 1986, when 'they'
endlessly continue to pull my PHOTOBUCKET photo
off of these blogs, and then, somehow 'they'
or some other group of human beings, restore
it again, yet never allow me to know who, what, why, where, or
anything that would permit me to register any kind of an official
legal complaint so that I could sue for money damages and introduce a
four decade MOLLY-NEW pattern of PRIOR-BAD-ACTS, as
well as get this entire shit once and for all EXPOSED TO THE WHOLE
'DAMN' WORLD, great Senator Bernie Sanders, SIR, yo!!!!!!! and hey,
without anybody being 'born again', sweating over any little yellow
sheets of paper up there in WASH your hands WASHINGTON, OR, 'losing
their DAMN JOBS' by informing me just who my DAMN daughter
was, sway back in the shortly post “TPB” days of my second stay
at the illustrious HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS
of Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!
So hey Sir Chester-Frank, yo, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!
But
shall we proceed a tad bit further down this same road of the
PHOTOBUCKET REMOVAL GASME GAME,
and take it to PATTY AND MERRY,
where in truth, all or at least a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE
great majority of roads, ALL SEEM TO HAVE LED all along; Mizz Lilly
Munster “All over again”!!!!! First we have what happened that
led up to the great hit song about love incidents that occurred
underneath seashore boardwalks in 1969. Then within a very short damn
march of years, we get Patty making sure from a great
Paula-WAYV-FM-RADIO type of 'trick', that I would receive some
incredibly wild magical powerful ancient wisdom-knowledge that was
and is known as, the “FASCITAR”. With this Fascitar, one is able
to cause people to “dream about people”. Then along comes my
crazy wild unexplainable shit with my memories coming back regarding
Atlantic City “SARAH KRASSLE”, and
right shy of the digitally inverted year of 19-69,
which would be 19-96, and then came the
wild PCN-231-PRIZE PATROL-K.J. MCALLISTER 'dream' in 1997 that
shortly followed the wild experience where the Almighty SARAH J.
KRASSLE told me, “Let's play a game called Guess the Name of the
Guests”. We are not forgetting for a single second all the rest of
it, merely for sake of saving time, I am not including elucidations
and numerous details of so many other wild experiences that have
absolutely no rational explanation for their happening to me, along
this incredible and unfathomable time line pattern, such as my being
taken back to my high school and having my tablet stolen from me that
had newspaper print that changed magically, like when I asked my
father in 1962 in Quakertown, Pennsylvania, how this was done, before
I knew that you had to go to a store each day and simply purchase the
next day's fucking newspaper, and of course, not getting all
completely succinct about the song that Merry had sung to me in that
Prize Patrol dream, later recorded at BonJovi's Florida Studio, tony,
cousin of John, right in my county, Saint Lucie, and when Lightning
Goddess Diana Z. Arteemis came over and played with the power during
the recording session, as was all told in real time as it went down
from the first several years of the previous damn decade, yo
BRRRRRRRR! And then came the 'dreams' eleven years after 1997 also.
We all remember this, as some powerful intergalactic FAWCE was
obviously enjoying all of this incredible GASME-GODS-GAME being
played, and being BLOGGED out to a public network called the WORLD
WIDE WEB, later shortened to the Interconnected Networking System,
shortened again to simply the DAMN “INTERNET”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If
another DAMN “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” is naut in order here, I'll eat
me' mother fucking shirt at the speed of light, SQUARED! Then, after
both me' mouth and me' shirt are converted into 'ENERGY' as a result,
then we would really all have some shit to talk about, would WE
NAUT, MIZZ AT&T BLAKE, MAHM? So mahm, we won't even
touch “THE SONG from those times, will we, after damn all yo, we
don't want any Library of Congress Head Librarians to, as Detective
Green puts it so great, “LOSE THEIR
DAMN JOBS” over this!
'Boy
oh boy oh boy'; Saturday was REAL/E DAMN
DOGTOWN here in me' apartment, with those noisy
'ILLEEEEEEEEEEEEGAL' COUSINS across from me at #608, the ones
who love to really mother fucking SLAM THEIR GODDAMN DOOR OVER AND
OVER, AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAMN DAY AND NIGHT, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO, SHERIFF K.J.M. Like this is really
damn-ass “weedeekawuss”
Admiral Perry.
I'll always hear you in me' mind, telling me about how planes have so
many restrictions, and must follow so many rules while flying, in
what you referred to in 1988
in our telephone conversation, as the “National
Air-Space-System”. So why wouldn't you respond to me'
country music singer pal turned Federal-congressman's official
letterhead letter to you, back in 1996? I had the two assistants to
him, Mister Phil Patru and Mister Steve Petersen, inform you of so
many violations of what you told me doesn't happen; back when we
spoke over the phone and I was residing on West Central Avenue, in
Moorestown, and when your niece who turned out so nice, and wasn't so
nice to me nine years later, was only in grammar school, yo. Of
course, I know what the score is. The secret agencies are above the
law just as is the president of the united States, and they can all
go and do anything they want to, and the country that I once knew and
loved as a boy, has already been totally and completely wrecked and
destroyed beyond repair; and despite what Prosecutor Wirtz Senior
told me, that this is not the nation that is doing all of these damn
horrendous criminal things to me, we all know that it is, since it
was also you who told me that the big powerful business interests,
and I am quoting Ron Wirtz here, “They have buddies in the
military”! He told me this right after I asked him why he would say
that to me, when obviously the aerial harassment is coming from
powerful military aircraft's for the most part, as well as so many
private planes. Speaking of the aerial persecution yo, SATURDAY was
one of those days where NAUT ONLY was I persecuted big ass fucking
cunt time by door slamming ILLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAL COUSINS FROM
UNIT 608, but also many crash level small airplanes were all over
this non PATTY-HOLLISTER-BUILDING,
especially shortly before it got dark, somewhere around the final
hour of daylight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Human
beings do not need to be aware and I am convinced they are normally
NAUT aware one wee small bit, they are are being endlessly USED
IN THESE ROTTEN DAMN GASME-GODS-GAMES,
right down to the two peeps I have discussed in many varying ways as
I got braver after remembering more and more shit from me' past,
PATTY AND MERRY! Doing things
covertly and using human beings for their ASTRAL-PLANE “late late
show” so to speak, is much more efficiently accomplished by keeping
those who these COINS AND COILS use, in the goddamn dark. This also
is true in human life, right here on the Physical-Plane, and we all
know thisssssss, lovely
Erica Snakes Kane, do we 'NAUT'? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!
Now
here is a powerful fucking item never told to anyone ever, NAUT
ON ANY BLOG, but Saturday's siege really fucking pissed me
off, so 'here we GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'; oh great 'job-keeping COPYRIGHT
EXAMINERS', and endless haters of all included little yellow sheets
of paper! John Colorado Henningsen was a very heavy sleeper, and
sometimes while in his apartment in the late sixties, he would drink
a large case of beer and fall asleep while I cleaned up his apartment
for twenty-five cents an hour. Times were so different back then and
today's population unless very elderly, don't even have an ability to
relate to such a seemingly small wage for good hard work, or how he
would drive me back to 125-A Haddon Hills Apartments a mile or so
away, bombed and loaded out of his scull and swerving quite a bit,
but this was not a serious traffic offense in those times unless of
course you caused a bad accident and hurt or killed someone while
drunk, and of course, times began to quickly change, but let me stick
with the late fucking nineteen-sixties here, yo folks! When I was
done working I would try to wake John up and it took a quarter hour
of shaking him and yelling and blasting his small transistor radio,
practically right in his ear. One time however, I thought he would
not wake up, and I checked his pulse, and even though I was only an
adolescent, I had a buddy who taught me how to take a pulse in
various places, and I was perfectly able to do this. So on this
occasion I took his pulse and he had no pulse, and I was about to get
on his phone to call an operator to have the cops rush over, and he
woke up and all was fine, and I ignored it and chalked it up to over
drinking and my somehow fucking up the taking of his pulse. But on
another occasion following this one about six months later, a time
when he had absolutely nothing to drink and even told me that he was
going to stop at the Haddonfield Liquors on Haddon Avenue and take me
home by way of Crystal Lake Avenue instead of the normal route of
using Park Avenue and going up to Pyle Avenue from there. He was all
out of his beer, and he was stone cold sober, but he had fallen
asleep while again I spent nearly three and a half hours cleaning up
his whole apartment, as he was quite a pig, as most bachelor men are,
let's keep it real here, Bob Radio
Songsplayinginguardhouses Schleigh. I attempted to wake him,
and again, I shook him violently, blasted his radio practically into
his ear, and again, he was totally dead, and again, I felt for a
pulse. THERE WAS NO 'DAMN' PULSE, Senator. I have always remembered
thinking to myself, that in the cold days of winter, when we would be
out somewhere together; he would talk to me, and unlike anyone else
I had ever known; I never ever could see any breath coming out of his
mouth no matter how damn icy cold it was. Yes, he did wake up after
about twenty minutes of major screaming and loud radios and shaking
him really hard on his bed, BUTTTTTTTT, BIG
ASS BUT people, he did not seem to
have a pulse, and he did not ever appear to breath. Once when
we went to the Haddonfield High School, on King George's Highway
right next door to the COOLEY HALL
where I was attending, as in those times, it was perfectly legal to
go and jog on their football field running track, and he loved to jog
a mile every day unless he was not in town and away on secret
business traveling the world, supposedly for the mighty Campbell's
Soup Company. After he did his mile jog on one particular
day, I noticed that he was not one tiny bit out of breath. The man
simply did not seem to breath, nor did he seem to have a heartbeat. I
thought of this as I always do when a particular episode of 'STAR
TREK' is aired, with a dude named Captain Tracy, who goes
nuts, and tries to talk Captain kirk into joining his venture of
selling an immortality formula, that he mistakenly thought was
discovered on a planet he was marooned on. This episode aired just
last Saturday evening at ten at night on the “ME-TV”
Network. Towards the end, he tries to trick some villagers
into thinking that Mister Spock was the devil and used his ears, and
then also told them that “He has no heart”. Doctor McCoy tried to
tell everyone that he is a Vulcan and that they have their hearts on
the opposite side of the chest as do other humanoid life forms. Each
time I see that show, it reminds me of the pulse-less and breath-less
Sir John Henningsen, my Organizational BB (Big Brother) from the
Philadelphia Big Brother's Organization, now renamed to Big Brothers
and Big Sisters, of course. Still, I have witnessed some strange
things in my life, and I absolutely know for a fact that many people
are living here amongst us WHO ARE NOT HUMAN BEINGS, and I always
watch for such things as ridiculous amounts of extra physical
strength for their size and gender, I always watch for the breath of
people on cold days which I no longer can do here in Florida because
it is only cold enough to do this rarely, and then, only in the early
morning times when I am still sleeping. This is why I get so nervous
when shit happens to me such as that GIANT
PUSSY ATTACK on the Atlantic
City beach in 2009,
when suddenly out of fucking cunt nowhere, an entire gang of seven or
eight or nine young women around mid twenties, all at least seven
feet tall, literally three heads higher than me, were just there and
staring right at me. When I run into people with the physical
strength of fucking Superman, or any other extremely unusual
characteristic; well, forgive me if I begin to get all weird and
paranoid, AFTER ALL OF THE FUCKING NIGHTMARE CRAZY BULLSHIT THAT I
HAVE GONE THROUGH FOR THE PAST HALF CENTURY NOW, MINIMUM, SINCE I WAS
SOMEWHERE AROUND THE AGE OF 15 DAMN YEARS OF AGE, YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
MONDAY,
JANUARY 27, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q.
WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
I
am doing me' very best to carry that weight for a long time, Mister
Marcucci. Any help from “BEYOND” sir, would be greatly damn
appreciated!
THE
WEATHER IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA:
DATE----------------TIME------------
TEMPERATURE:----
HEAT
INDEX FEELS LIKE TEMP:----
HUMIDITY:----
WINDS:----
PREDICTED
HIGH:----
SKY
CONDITIONS PRESENTLY:----
RAIN
CHANCES TODAY:----
MOUNTAINPEN'S
BLOG STATS UPDATE:
Nov
2,
2019 6:00 PM – Nov
9,
2019 5:00 PM
|
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 FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THE
ASSAULT ON ME NOW, EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019 AND ON JANUARY 27, 2020,
with a major car music
assault and another roach infestation,
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.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
END
TRANSMISSION.
©
BOM 2006-2015 MARK WAYNE MOHR
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN (the
'BOM')
She
used to say, and I quote; “If you don't like
cats and dogs and kids, there's got to be something wrong with you
somewhere”. I am speaking of the world's great and now sadly
late, disco diva, Mizz Donna Gaines Summer!
Permit me to reevaluate some of me' whittle preconceived notions
here, lovely Boston meat-packer, turned DISCO-QUEEN!
The
great esoteric FARM that was outside of Haddonfield,
New Jersey, & just to the east a wee bit, and also 'TEN
YEARS OFF' INTO THE ANTIMATTER NEGATIVE SPACE,
known as by Mountainpen's Morianity (Photon Projection) since I do
indeed coin many phrases and words, if I do say so me'self, yo.
Robin Hill Apartments
Me'
mother fucking apartment is crawling with a new infestation of cock
roaches, SHERIFF MASCARA, me' kind sir. I wonder if Levy and McGuire
are putting these things in here as they put rats into Jenny
Plageman's #10 trailer while I was living there back in
positive-space (photon memory), in 2005. I purchased four brand new
large RAID cans over at me' Publix Grocery Store today while out on
errands, at my PCP-Doctor, and my Wallgreens Pharmacy, yo, Sheriff!
Yes
I was out on me' ol' local errands today and WOW
did I FALL UNDER A MAJOR
SKY
DEATH
SIEGE
that is still presently ongoing, SHERIFF
'KENNETH J. MASCARA', SIR,
at twenty past eleven tonight, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo!!!! Let's see what me' ol' MAGNETIC-SOUND-MACHINE
(MAGNESONIC)
will do to counterstrike this evil and monstrous mother fucking
MILITUFORCE,
yo BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
I went to my doctor and then to the Publix for RAID as well as some
food that should last me throughout the month of November, and then
finally stopped at the Walgreen Pharmacy to pick up a prescription
that I had refilled on orders of Doctor
JAR
as I jokingly refer to him as, since his name is James
A.
Roberts.
Yessir Sheriff, my life is a living burning breathing hot nightmare
endless hell here on this Earth-Planet; me' kind wonderful awesome
sir. I got a phone call late this morning from your office that had
the same opening prompt sound but then just disconnected me after I
kept saying “HELLO”. Maybe this was a subtle covert message that
I was under a real bad goddamn death siege, as this sure proved out
to be; kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
is a lovely
FULL MOON
shining down on me tonight,
and SHE has been there for me now for several nights, surrounded of
course by those ever dependable MILITUFORCE
CHEMTRAILS
that clutter and ugly
up the skies around me,
and have done so since the very tail end of 1987, while I worked for
the American
Honda Company over at the Mount Laurel, New Jersey Industrial Park,
on Gaither Drive, just off Route 73 and Fellowship Road. WEEEEEEEE!
When
I went to go to the vestibule area on my 6th
floor here at my PH
Building
to view DIANA'S
LOVELY FULL MOON;
I ran into my pal at the end of the hallway, who was going down to
the Community-Room to buy a soda. He had a note that he was reading
that he had just removed from his door, and several notes just like
it were on other doors; and the ones that no notes were on, merely
had people who go in and out all the time, so they already had
retrieved the notes that were at their doors. I however from the time
I was out on me' errands, to the time I came back, and then went out
to view my lovely moon; NEVER
WAS GIVEN A NOTE.
The note was about the THANX-2-GIVENS
dinner,
held annually at Public Housing, either at this Park Terrace
Building, or the other building that is down eight blocks or so away
to the north of me, on 7th
Street, visible outside of me' apartment windows. Obviously Sheriff
sir, I
am hated here, and no one wants me to come to the dinner.
Hey
Sheriff sir, yo, I wasn't planning to anyway, but this just verifies
HOW MUCH I AM HATED ALL OVER EVERYWHERE,
and this is due to the MIND
CONTROLLERS
of the mighty evil wicked BRIGGBASE
MILITUFORCE
'EARTH-CHAPTERED' GROUPATION of demonic fucking
monsters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thisssssssssssssssssssssssss LOVELY ERICA is why my entire life IS
ENDLESS HELL. If they can MIND
CONTROL EVERYONE
to hate my guts;
then employers, landlords, and everything else in life, from romance
to finance; is going to be endlessly ruined and wrecked. And
you bastards out here have absolutely zero-zip-zilch sympathy for me.
I say only thisssssssssssssssssssssssss, lovely
BIG O,
“WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW”!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
JULY
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5-----WEEK
0
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
AUGUST
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2----WEEK 4
3
4 5 6 7 8 9----WEEK 5
10
11 12 13 14 15 16---WEEK 6
17
18 19 20 21 22 23---WEEK 7
24
25 26 27 28 29 30---WEEK 8
31
SEPTEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6-----WEEK 9
7
8 9 10 11 12 13----WEEK 10
14
15 16 17 18 19 20----WEEK 11
21
22 23 24 25 26 27----WEEK 12
28
29 30
OCTOBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4--------WEEK 13
5
6 7 8 9 10 11-------WEEK 14
12
13 14 15 16 17 18-------WEEK 15
19
20 21 22 23 24 25-------WEEK 16
26
27 28 29 30 31
NOVEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1--------WEEK
17
2
3 4 5 6 7 8--------WEEK 18
9
10 11 12 13 14 15-------WEEK 19
16
17 18 19 20 21 22-------WEEK 20
23
24 25 26 27 28 29-------WEEK 21
30
DECEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6----------WEEK 22
7
8 9 10 11 12 13---------WEEK 23
14
15 16 17 18 19 20---------WEEK 24
21
22 23 24 25 26 27---------WEEK 25
28
29 30 31
JANUARY
1970
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3-----------WEEK 26
4
5 6 7 8 9 10----------WEEK 27
11
12 13 14 15 16 17----------WEEK 28
18
19 20 21 22 23 24----------WEEK 29
25
26 27 28 29 30 31----------WEEK 30
FEBRUARY
1970
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6 7------------WEEK 31
8
9 10 11 12 13 14-----------WEEK 32
15
16 17 18 19 20 21-----------WEEK 33
22
23 24 25 26 27 28-----------WEEK 34
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
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
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