SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY!

5:24 Post Meridian

SUNDAY, 1 MARCH, 2020

SUPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY

THE MILITUFORCE BROUGHT IN THE MONTH OF MARCH WITH A MAJOR 100 PERCENT MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE FOR BOTBAR DAYS BY TURNING THE FIRST DAY IN IT INTO A BEYOND MOTHER FUCKING HUUUUUUUGE NIGHTMARE PERSECUTION UTILITY HARASSMENT. The entire weekend has been off the scale UTILITY AND COMCAST SIEGE, but I no longer believe that COMCAST is behind ANY OF THIS. Whoever this MILITUFORCE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY as I call it, and whatever it may or may naut be truly called; ARE THE ENTITIES TRULY BEHIND AND RESPONCIBLE FOR ALL OF THIS ENDLESS DETH SIEGE ON ME SINCE I LEFT HIGH SCHOOL'S COOLEY HALL ON OR APPROXIMATELY THE LAST DAY IN JANUARY IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORDESS OF 1973!

After awakening from an incredible and totally mind fucking boggling nightmare on steroids AGAIN FOR A THIRD MORNING IN A ROW AND AGAIN AROUND HALF PAST ELEVEN IN THE GODDAMN MORNING; I wrote a blog, and when I tried to post it, I HAD ABSOLUTELY NO INTERNET SERVICE. The outage on Saturday, yesterday, was with the entire modem and I lost all three services with COMCAST, the CABLE-TV, the PHONE, and the INTERNET. This day of Sunday, it was JUST THE MOTHER FUCKING INTERNET. Still, I called an agent and she was able to resolve my problem after about half an hour or so give or take and trying to reset some things and performing numerous technical tests and resets, or as Bob Andrews from 1975 would say so often back then, “WHATEVER”!!!!!!!!!!!! I still don't have a fully clear picture of the so-called “mortal world explanation” to what had gone wrong with my service, and it seemed to be a bit complex, and too lengthy for this still computer-internet-new age society misfit and elderly person, to fully grasp, or be able to logically explain on a blog in my own words. For the past two to three weeks, COMCAST has been somehow HACKED by my MILITUFORCE ENEMIES, or their service on my account has been totally somehow MAJOR BLACK-HAT HACKED, by the great 1981 Stacey Lattisaw Jack-Hack-Attack Society. I can expect for as long as this cunt lapping crazy OVERLY VOLATILE DOW JONESSTOCK MARKET continues to react so absurdly; for these death sieges on me to just continue to happen to me without end, let up, or mercy, SHERIFF MASCARA, SIR!!! This is the very same ENDLESS NIGHTMARE ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY HARASSMENT that I've been dealing with and suffering through since 1986 when this goddamn shit all got a foot-hold on me while I was residing at the nightmare rental home owned by Sir Richard Barf-Karpf, on Marlton Pike, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey (NJUSAESMWG).

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,

CHAPTER 25-B

BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

THIS BLOGGER WILL REMOVE AMY © MATERIAL UPON REQUEST.

5:41 POST MERIDIAN

SUNDAY EVENING

1 MARCH, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

03/01/2020

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

Image result for images free funny faces

Nasty miserable dirt-bag Janeones has been striking me down like a damn dog continually over and over, with counters, with clocks, and every other conceivable digital thing that anyone of you out here could ever hope to fucking dream up in your wildest imaginings.

Hey so sue me if it ain't August 6, 2014!

I AIN'T GOT A PENNY, AND I AM JUDGMENT PROOF KATY, Admiral, and Portfolio Recovery Debt Collection Service!!!!!

AUGUST 6, 2014,

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON AT 3:20,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 89 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 60%, IT FEELS 102 DEGREES FOLKS!

I AM GETTING SUPER MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING MILITUFORCE MOUSE HACKING RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

COUNTERSTRIKE OF 5:55 P.M., ON 1 MARCH, 2020:

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 THIS DEATH ASSAULT EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND ON THIS 1 MARCH OF 2020, WITH ANOTHER MAJOR HUGE UTILITY COMCAST DEATH STRIKE ON ME, MILITUFORCE FINANCIAL OPPRESSION SIEGES ON ME, COMPUTER HACKS AND ANNOYING ENEMY INTERFERENCES, AND ALL OTHER INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT ASSAULTS AND ELDER ABUSE COMMITTED AGAINST ME, and that is all a part of DONALD TRUMP'S ICPE-APE-TECH death strike on me since August 15 of 1986; 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.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

GO TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

OH SIR CHESTER-FRANK, SIR!

I mean, to quote Queen Katy and myself, “This is truly WEEDEEKAWUSS”! So I now say to this evil rotten wicked world in all parallel realities:

'YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, AND ALSO,

MY VELY BEST TO THE NATIONAL AIRSPACE SYSTEM AERIAL REGULATIONS, AND YOUR FAA-TC-UNCLE FROM POMONA, N.J., AND A BIG-ASS WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'. SOOOOOOOOOO, AC,

and VIVA MORIANITY!

7^th & Orange, Fort Pierce, FL, USA 34950

Live weather camera images from:

Imagine Charter ES NAU, Port Saint Lucie, FL 34953

Prev Cam | Next Cam

Yessir Sheriff; I will be telling the 2020 Census all about what was done to me underneath Atlantic City's CENTRAL PIER on the 5^th damn day in July, and let the damn chips fall wherever they do, all over their numerous roulette tables in town, and perhaps some city parking lots back nearly thirty-eight years ago as well. They just won't stop harassing and endlessly persecuting poor little mother fuckign me, so fine, and fine', Sir Tom Glenn lead-sheet writer-copier. I NEVER EVER FORGET ANYTHING, unless the Exploratronic Supermind Society goes back into the photon-memories, and cause things simply to either NAUT be there, or alter what was there before, with their world and perhaps even intergalactic spirit-dream-travel, huh Gene Roddenberry TRAVELER LATENGRATE? DOORS, DOORS, DOORS, & here we go again; or as I said in one of me' music projects quite a while ago; “HERE WE GOOOOOOOO”! Long story short, why not let the officials and DNA experts sort it all out? In any case, the M2F doesn't want for this to all come rushing over Niagara's great waterfalls, and IT WILL, IPYT, so why not make them as upset as they have been and always are, MAKING ME ALL THE MOTHER FUCKING GODDAMN TIME, YO YO YO YO BREEEEEE?

Krystal's Ball

Guarantee and disclaimer information:

Anyone using this and is not satisfied, can have $5.00 back!

Publisher: Krystal's Ball

Rating:

Price: 0.99 USD (ninety-nine pennies) Just how cheap are folks?

The joke is that this is worth 100,000 bucks, and I would say this to any damn district attorney in this nation, as I know how powerful this thing really truly is.

You will have to prove to me that this does not work for you, I am no fool!

DOWNLOAD @ GOOGLE PLAY STORE

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

SOMEBODYME

Those nightmare mother fuckers of the MILITUFORCE ARE TOTALLY KILLING ME, SENATOR SANDERS, SO PLEASE GET INTO THE [[[{{('DAMN')}}]]] WHITE HOUSE OVAL OFFICE, OH GREAT AWESOME SIR, OR AT LEAST SOME WONDERFUL DEMOCRAT, BEFORE I LOSE MY COCKSUCKING SANITY AT LIGHT SPEED SQUARED, CUBED, CUBAN, AND CUBAN SQUARE CUBED, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I really do not thionk I can survive this incredible hell any longer, Sheriff, so when I am found dead in this apartment in your county, after I've pleaded with you and your peeps for help for years now, on this blog oh great kind sir; then sir, MY DAMN BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS, LEEEEEEEEEEEGALLY, AS P[RESIDENT NIGHTMARE SATAN TRUMP WOULD PUT IT SO WELL. Mortimer mortino the Hebrew Angel of Death, is striking and passing both me' left as well as me' right sides,almost every single fuckign ten minutes of the day and the night, and I even am awakening from sleep to this prick eating shit fart, buzzing loudly into me' clit huffing eardrums. May I add here, that this is beyond totally WEEDEEKAWUSS, lovely Kitchen Duty Dairy-Queen girl turned SUPER ROCK STAR after 1997, has all come and gone, and without any sweet songs, fight songs, or any kind of goddamn songs!!!!!!!

Yes BEEGEE SONG-STEALERS, someone most definitely needs to mother fucking HELP ME, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, B4I totally mother fucking die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been literally nothing less than PREMEDITATED FIRST DEGREE MURDER EVER SINCE 15 AUGUST OF 1986.

Public Catalog

Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 1 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	For the record.	PAu000662409	1984
[ 2 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	I'm Criana.	PAu000724397	1985
[ 3 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.	PAu003351785	2007
[ 4 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Last number repeat--100 progression roulette system.	TXu000514390	1992
[ 5 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Lost love.	PAu000344219	1981
[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982
[ 10 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Queen of blue.	PAu000825471	1986
[ 11 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Real good girl.	PAu000881543	1986
[ 12 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.	PAu002506106	2000
[ 13 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Saga of song writer Mark Mud.	PAu000501582	1983
[ 14 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	PAu002153196	1996
[ 15 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah.	SRu000332786	1996
[ 16 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Sarah Callio of ACNJ.	SRu000362114	1997
[ 17 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Uncle.	PAu000540585	1983
[ 18 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	What's wrong?	PAu000724407	1984
[ 19 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	You call this music?	PAu000998574	1987
[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989
[ 22 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204017	1980
[ 23 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204015	1980
[ 24 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity music pre-book.	PAu002336935	1998
[ 25 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morianity tunes of 1998.	PAu002282717	1998

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Public Catalog

Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

Resort results by:

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

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Now the blog that I was trying to put up earlier today when I came out of that wild nightmare, is going to be posted now. Call it, CHAPTER #25-A if you so desire, as this one now is going to be CHAPTER 25-B. I believe the great illustrious Shoeknockeroutter Sir Chester-Frank right about now should he be here with me, would be uttering his famous quotation, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!

HEY PEEPS, DON'T WUSS OUT ON ME NOW. WAIT UNTIL YOU READ THE EARLIER BLOG THAT SOMEONE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE IN THIS GREAT COSMIC EXPANSION DID NAUT WANT POSTED UP, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO Y YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

I AWOKE OUT OF A MAJOR NIGHTMARE FOR A THIRD TIME IN A ROW, AND AGAIN AT AROUND HALF PAST ELEVEN THIS MORNING, SUNDAY MORNING, AND WHEN I WENT TO GET ONTO MY OPEN-OFFICE SYSTEM, A HACK THAT I HAVE NEVER MOTHER FUCKING EXPERIENCED BEFORE, WENT DOWN. B4I TELL U THE GODDAMN NIGHTMARE, MY LIFE IS NOT WORTH A JIPPERS NICKEL RIGHT NOW AND I KNOW IT. WHEN SOMETHING THIS GODDAMN OUTLANDISH IS HAPPENING IN THE 5^th DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE, AND MY LIFE IS THIS SCREWED UP TO BOOT RIGHT HERE IN WAKING LIFE, I KNOW I'VE CUNT CHEWING HAD IT, ME' BROTHA!

I DEMAND MY FREAKING PROPS.

#	Name (NALL) <	Full Title	Copyright Number	Date
[ 26 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.	PAu000204016	1980
[ 27 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Same title.	PAu003037983	2005
[ 28 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Thanx to the shadows.	PAu002237985	1997

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HERE IS THE OTHER (NON-PRIVECODE) 1-2-3, FROM LIGHTNING'S GREAT SCHOOL OF MYSTERIES!

1) WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

2) WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO?

3) WWYWINY, MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

I'LL TELL YOU WHASUP FOR CLIT HUFFING PATHETIC ME. I AM BEING TORTURED AND MURDERED BY A RIVAL ENEMY AND HE MAY NOT EVEN KNOW ABOUT ANY OF IT, BECAUSE IT IS SATAN INSIDE OF HIM DOING THIS WHOLE GODDAMN THING TO ME, LOVELHY PATRICIA HOLLISTER AND ROTTEN OLD PRICK JAMES T. BURR! HERE COMES THAT MOTHER FUCKING (`~HACK), ME' KIND PEOPLE, AND ME' UNKIND ONES OUT HERE AS WELL, YO BREEEEEE!

The hack had to do with a blogger identification and a small rectangular fucking box kept popping up when I opened the file of yesterday's blog so that I could repopulate the data info for time and date and moon phases and so on, and the file froze and kept popping up that goddamn box, and yet I was able to open up other files or even begin this blog, and nothing was frozen. Eventually the problem just vanished quite magically just as quickly and weirdly as it began. Anyone who refuses to realize that everything insists inside of MAGIC is ab ignorant fool. Electricity is the most magical thing of all. No one knows what SHE is, no one understands very much about HER, and she comes from nothingness according to the quantum dynamic physicists and top rated electrical engineers. In real truth, when things appear out of nothing, they actually are moving transdimensionally. They leave one dimension and move into another one, and this produces the powerful and quite awesome illusion of springing forth out of nothingness. I will tell you now MY DREAM, as soon as I open up the blog properly with the repopulated updated data for this chapter number, and yes, there was a screw up when I tried to do something on the last blog, and this is why we have CHAPTER 24 as well as CHAPTER 24-B. I had moved into the 25^th floor of a wild residence in another ALTERNATE ATLANTIC CITY, very much similar to the wild experience from middle August in 1986, where then too, I was moved from here to there, into some alternate Atlantic City, and was living there at some place, with the great Permission Barrier Laboratory Technician known as Mizz Phyllis Alexander. This time was unlike that time however. It was beyond frightening and horrendous, and I will give you every single mother fucking monstrous detail that I can now pull up in my conscious and waking mind, 'for crying out loud', SURFER FONTY!!! Yessir peeps, the 25^th FLOOR, as in this is now hyperspace referenced to there, in a parallel world from THERE; BLOG CHAPTER NUMBER 25, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,

CHAPTER 25-A

BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

THIS BLOGGER WILL REMOVE AMY © MATERIAL UPON REQUEST.

12:16 POST MERIDIAN

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

1 MARCH, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

SUNDAY, MARCH 1, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WAXING CRESCENT 7:7

N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.

I was living on the 25^th floor of some very large high rise apartment building in Atlantic City in an alternate parallel of reality in the virtually limitless fifth dimensional hyperspace, and had accidentally become involved with a crazy bunch of extremist right wind Republican nut-jobs on a lower floor close to the ground, perhaps the second or third floor. This happened because of a really crazy beachfront elevator system that was like nothing I have ever seen in this world. It was very easy to get confused and exit this elevator right into certain nearby apartments that lay on all floors close by to it, and it happened to me. That hack came back while I was attempting to close out that previous blog file, and froze me up for a minute; oh STATE POLICE OF FLORIDA, FBI, ACLU, SHERIFF KEN MASCARA, FCC, AND ALL LOYAL KEEPERS OF THE UNITED STATES CIVIL AND HUMAN GROUPS AND THE WONDERFUL FUCKING CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. I finally have managed to close it. However Jane fucking Dirt-wad Shit-eater Fonda just struck me hard during the assault, and I need to compensate now with a nice mother fucking groupation of FIVE NUMBERS, so here mother fucking goes, yo BRAH!:

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Many specific details were written down upon awakening from this incredible experience, but I am only going to list the top highlighted items that occurred for me in that super horrible cunt lapping nightmare straight out of DOGTOWN'S GATES!!!!!!!!!

One particular day, I used the rear beach elevator to go down to the beach and walk around at the waters edge as I was off work on that day and I was young again and was working as a driver and I even had a Commercial Drivers License (CDL). It appeared that I was working for a political mafia of a sort, and they were very mean scary people. But on this one day off mentioned here, I was on this elevator and after going down to the beach for a morning walk, I returned to the-rear-beach-elevator to go up to my apartment on the 25^th floor. The elevator stopped on a lower floor, and I wasn't paying attention, so I exited and walked across the hallway into an open door thinking it was my apartment, and I then suddenly found myself illegally walking inside of someone else's apartment. I tried to walk out again but was caught and challenged by the renter, and I was trying to show them various identification that I had proving that I was indeed a resident of the building. As I pulled out more and more things, a particular item had fallen out of my pocket. This was some kind of instantly recognizable item in that parallel dimension that showed me to be a Registered Democrat Voter. In this alternate reality and unlike the one in 1986 where the president's were just as they are over here only ten years earlier, where James Earl Carter was the president in 1986 as opposed to Ronald Reagan; this time, things were exactly the same, it was March of 2020, we had Donald Trump for our 45^th President, and the elections were coming up this leap year as well as here in this reality. The second they saw this item fall from my pocket, the hostility was turned up from a three to about an eleven plus with bullets flying. While typing, the HACKING is major, and right now for the past thousand words or so, it is their old time fave hack that I have named the (SPACE-BAR-HACK), causing words to all string together. Let's try and get back to the topic at fucking hand here kind FOLKSINGERS and kind folks, and you too, Mister fucking Microsoft! They were all voting for the REPUBLICAN that was running, only guess what peeps? It wasn't Trump they wanted. In this altered reality after Primary Elections were over, another Republican went up against Trump, and his name was BROWN. The people who I had accidentally entered into their apartment, had now becomeirateandfurious with me, and I wasscared for my life as they were acting completely insane once learning that I was NOT A REPUBLICAN, and I had to pretend that I had changed over and become one, just so they wouldn't have me arrested for breaking and entering or maybe even beat up or murdered. I was able to convince several men and one lady that were part of whoever was living in that unit, that I had switched parties and merely forgotten to get rid of that Democratic Identification Card that looked more like a three-D key than a wallet fitting business card. Then the lady grabbed all sorts of personal things that I had been holding and taking from my wallet and pockets, and placed them on a large round table of their living room. At first they did not believe my made up story that I gave to try and save me from a nightmare set of potential consequences, but eventually, the lady stood up and she said, “Congratulations you dumb little fucker, you came over to the side of sanity and see it our way”. I tried to smile and was so scared I could barely swallow or talk. Call it the epitome of transdimensional political intimidation if you wish, folks and yes FOLKSINGERS toothpaste and TOO, oh wonderful fucking Microsoft Corporation, or the (ETPI) for a shortened abbreviation, yo! Before I was allowed to leave, they told me that they'd be watching me and would have me thrown in jail if I didn't show them registration for voting Republican within a weeks time, and proof that I voted for their boy, Sir Brown. As I left the apartment and headed for elevator once I went through total hell inside there; I remembered that I worked for this horrible bunch of other people, and that I had not been off work that day, but that I had quit and ran away from them. What had happened was that I was driving this super large and weird truck that could turn into a boat and was able to be used on water as well as dry land roads. This cunt lapping SPACE-BAR-HACKING is totally violating my human, civil, and constitutional rights, Sheriff KJM and FCC replacement of Chairman Bob McDowell, my old COOLEY HALL BUDDY from the time era of late into 1971, 1972 and the beginning part of 1973. To quote the great Katy Queen of the dairy worlds here me' fine peeps, “This is totally fucking WEEDEEKAWUSS”, 'for crying out loud', Surfer Fontana, of the High-Cliffs Beachfront NIGHTMARES of the first decade of this twenty-first century; while back residing at Mizz Jenny Plageman's #10 trailer, at the Mullica Mobile Manor Trailer Park, in NO JOYSEY, just east of Hammonton-Blueberryville, on the ROUTE-30 White Horse Pike, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!! So I suddenly am remembering quitting and running away from where I was working as they had been threatening to kill me for doing something that I never ever did. It seems that while rounding a turn on a particular road that paralleled a lake and a resort area, where I had picked up lots of camping equipment to be delivered at this lake from some huge sports store like the now extinct Sports Authority, at leas there in this dimensional reality where me' body laid in me' bed (asleep); I had waved to some group of peeps standing on a marina dock, and yelled out, “hey hi, what's up”; and then learned that they had heard me wrong, and thought that I had said, “Go fly, ugly pup”. Also a friend of both theirs and mine from this alternate world was with them, and he and I had made a small sports wager and he had lost ten bucks to me. I reminded him by yelling out, “Yo me ten, dig”? They all thought that I had said, “Blow me hen-pig”. When I swung into the truck yard, I was greeted by two 'huge mooks' who told me I was going to be 'major tuned up' for saying those two things to their customers, and I could expect the pounding within a week. This is why I quit and ran away. This nightmare was horrendous and worse than anything ever, but I've so far left out the greatest and most frightening part of it, that again, woke me up at exactly11:30, only today, it was not in any type of fucking dual-action with a particular noise sound from here in waking world reality! I had been scared and intimidated for nothing that I did wrong at all on two super huge fronts, at work and at me' residence, and was out of me' mind with fear and worry. When I got up to the 25^th floor of me' own apartment and entered into it, once being Gottwald-camera-permitted in or out of December of 1972, to leave that nightmare apartment of those politically active tenant nabes from that lower floor; I sat down onto me' own couch and instantly, Julia White was in the room glaring at me and holding her trustworthy medallion that she always uses to hypnotize peeps. Before I could move or breathe, pow, I was in a trance right there in this wild dream, and she told me that the reason my life is so horrible back where my body was laying, was because of all of these incredible nightmare shit eating things going on with me in many localized parallel dimensions of dream-world-reality. She then told me that the one cable bill and the three ladies translates into my waking world with the TSE, into true person (HER) and her going into the three women here where I am dreaming as she put it, only to me I seem to be awake here. She said the three women are Melanie, Patty, and Paula, and that yes, Julia is indeed effecting and manipulating their otherwise lives, to do all of things to me all of these years. She then released me from the trance but I still could barely move my arms or legs, but I was able to think again. She walked over to me and she grabbed a large round analogue clock that sat on my end table near my couch. It showed the time to be 11:30. She took it and she placed it in front of my face about fifteen inches or so away. She said that I need to wake out of the trance now, and as she placed the clockback down onto theend table, poof, I awoke back here. I jumped out of my bed and looked at my digital clock, and it said 11:30, right on the damn ass button for crying out loud, FONTY SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

© MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR 2006-2014

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3

Original five blogs:

On Blogger since January 2006

Profile views - 2895

My blogs

About me

Gender	Male
Industry	Non-Profit
Occupation	paranormal researcher
Location	hammonton, new jersey, United States
Introduction	Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing, that out of 8 billion that live, or have lived here; none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense'.
Interests	I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies	all old movies
Favorite Music	most old music
Favorite Books	gone with the wind, the winds of war, time travelers from our future

BLOGGER DOT COM ASKS ME; BLOGGER MOUNTAINPEN:

You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?

MY RESPONSE TO THEM WAS:

An angry mother.

Also, at the risk of sounding negative; the only thing one may be truly sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything. I am sorry for my glass half-empty attitude lovely Twinbay. Hope all is well with you.

Kind ladies and gentlemen, my mother's 94^th birthday would be today if she had not been murdered by Paula King Senior, Pees mother, my baby mama.

Hay, I think it is cool as shit, and whoever managed to get that onto my blogs, I like it buddy, or honey, or whatever gender ye may be-eth. Still, me' ol' qweeschin is, jes hala ye deed eet maitee? Meester Meeguire has a lot of magical power, as does Paula, the great TRAVELER. Did you just say, W-O-W, Mister Macy and very distant cousin Martha??????? I found out that she does not spell her name the way that my 22^nd granny spelled hers, so we are in noway related, all great DA's of the world, WEEEEEEEEEE and WEEDEEKAWUSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Has anyone ever taken my dare, and gone to 30 South Plaza Place, and tried taking a photograph of the home of the Almighty?

Has anyone ever tried to disprove all the things I have made a claim to?

You won't you know, I challenge the entire government to try, from the FBI to my opal the President. He knows. I gave him a heads up about this horrible year. I try to be a good American and a good citizen. I'm not perfect. Neither is Bruce Pennock in 1972, right Mildred B. Young? She told me to get away as fast as I can run; from an over domineering overbearing over dominating mother, and I didn't listen to her. Boy were you a soothsayer and a prophet. I should have ran away with your cousin Taffy I guess. Oh well, that was no more meant to be than it was for me to ever know a moment of peace, joy, or happiness, only ETERNAL MOTHER FUCKING WOE AND MISERY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And the name of Huntington was once so great. Oh how the mighty Babylonians have fallen, great lovely daughter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry if my life has inconvenienced you. I am not being sarcastic, this is a genuine dam apology.

What makes this an interesting world is that no two people are the same, not even twins. My family contains quite a number of these phenomenon's so I know a little bit about this topic myself, along with my ''great pals'' Colin and Kevin McGrath from Collingswood, New Jersey and from Haddon Township High School, in Westmont, World Future Labs, New Jersey

lllllllllllllllljjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj39g9fjvwormhjolecooleysarahjacobsondkvgiru96573hjfhjofficemaxmemoryrestore, and all great codes all over!

Jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjssssslllllllkkkjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjdiru47857fbbn77 and all overbearing Sir Mike Soft, huh?

Some cunt lapping mother fucker thinks it funny, old pal Bob McDowell, Chairman of the federal Communications Commission, and sir; to hack out the Deja Vu Sans font, it will not fucking Johnny faster work, with the font set to a bold type, it vanishes every time, remember last time they fucked with me on this font, old friend from the Cooley-Wormhole Marola Hall of Hopkins Memory Lane, back early in the dam seventies.

Funny, is it not, world? Real funny, HA HA HA! People who laugh too fucking much are like cackling hens and giggling fucked up school girls, and I MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT HIT OR SPIT, ON ANY BUSES, ASSHOLES FROM QUACK ER CLOWN, PENNSYLVANIA, USA, ESMWG. Really, what are the odds, that my old pal becomes the fuckiGN FCC CHAIRMAN-DIRECTOR? For all you fucking atheists out here, you have an incredible ability to see a lot of things in very bland mother fuckign ways, and I am not going to lie to a one of you; I ENVY THE MOTHER FUCKING CRAP OUT OF YA, DUDES AND DUDDESSES, even though I know you are all full of mother fucking total shit at light speed cubed, Cuban, and lottery winning price patrolling nightmares, songs, letters, and daughters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here it comes again, BOB MCDOWELL, FCC, the fucking cunt lapping (`~HACK) YO YO YO YO YO!!!! Now they tried to do the (WORD DISAPPEARING HACK, OLD BUDDY AND KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wow, THIS IS GETTING MOTHER FUCKIGN CUNT INTENSE, TO QUOTE ONE OF MY FANS, WHO I SHALL NEVER KNOW, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

DUH-DUH-DUH Hyundai cars of 2006. Boy was I about to get SET UP, 1980 all mother fuckiGN asshole over again. And I know why. Somehow they wiped out all my fucking hurricanes, with some powerful cool tool, Lenny Fool, hates and gates!!!! I know you Lenny, you won't ever fuckiGN bullshit me, you old Rastafarian, this is old Ricktofarious here, and I have your number, you hubcap smasher. Oh well, birds of a fire!

Yes, speaking of monster ass, they gave me a horrendous mother fucking hack attack, and also a mother fucking nasty bowel health strike, and we will see what ol' fucking Maggie will do over the next 96 hours, as a result!!!!

Speaking of mother fucking going to jail, and travelers, and the Exploratronic Supermind Society (ESS), this is where all evil people and entities belong, and then DOGTOWN after that, or HELL, for all the shit they do to innocent and decent folks.

Yes Terry Egghead Harbors, I am most definitely an imperfect little human being, in total control over the Endless Miseries Club of Planet Earth, but not in control of a whole lot else, mahm. Sorry about that 1986 Maxwell Smart Chief. Blare those video games at me, brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been trapped in this one for a long long long time, lovely Ingrid.

Did I say MISERY UNITS, Sir Clarence Harris 1997?

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 102

KING NEBNOOSHOO

2ND COUSIN TO BABYLONIAN KING

HEINZ GOTTWALD OF 175

PENINSULA DRIVE BEFORE HE WOKE UP IN '84

WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: CH-102-032011.601-LENNY-CB

BLOG 3RD SUBTITLE: “SYMBOLISM AT WORK MAJOR”

“THE {{{((MILLIONTH-COUNCIL))}}} AND ME”

“THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION”

AUGUST 2297, interconnected through “STM”

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 127

8:20 PM, TUESDAY, APRIL 19, 2011

BEGINNING: (OF A LOT MORE, than just this little blog.)

ESS FROM GENESIS TO ADVANCED

CHAPTER 10

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER, CHAPTER 24-B

(Library usage of computers is strictly timed to give all card holders their fair turn to use the system.)

Monday, July 03, 2006

Chapter 31 My Aunt Gerry, The Friend Of The Iranian Shah

I was telling UB4 getting booted out yesterday, that my deceased Aunt Geraldine Snow of Narberth Pennsylvania, never goofed up, never made errors, a mental picture of total perfection. Yet, she just happened to screw up a plan, causing her daughter to need to come with mom and me to the Trinidad Motel on Tennessee Avenue, in AC-NJ, back in the summer of 1967. This is of course when she met Sarah's gang, and they all became friends, Nina Soifer, Paula King, Sarah Callio, and many other giant beautiful teen queens. They all were in my room one night, # 323, in August of 1967, if memory is serving me over ETTOSIAN powers. Their lovely heads and long hair, scraping oil marks on the ceiling of the room. All this may seem innocent to U, but it ain't, my fellow Morians. Did U know that every UFO club is monitored, and infiltrated at least 3 times by the National Security Agency, and once membership increases to more than 99, permanent 'penetrators', as they call themselves; become spying members, for the feds? These R all total facts, no lies and no fiction. The Shah of Iran in 1979, was a very good friend of my Aunt's, and I learned this only because one of her many famous mainline parties, was attended by a huge name today, not then, in the entertainment circles; and this huge entertainer, told another friend about it, and I learned from this group, a member of the trick, yeah, 'theeeeee' trick, that she was reminiscing about how Sandy, her daughter, had agreed to cooperate with what the Shah wanted back in 1967, when my Aunt met him through a mutual friend in the FBI, and military; a big hot shot general, that actually told the FBI to stop harassing my poor mother regarding her husband, my father, as to his current location, as she most certainly did not know it. My father, the treasure, the chain, the Hockshop, Sarah Krassle, her dangerous but lovely gang; all R connected in this unfathomable plot, like no other, as it stems from the land of the dead, the astral realm itself. I got a letter back from a man whom I had written, named Chester Perkowski, the adopted son of Estelle Bassler, owner of the property on Tennessee Avenue, that she sold to Sarah Karge back in the early 70's. This same lot on the block changed back to ownership by Estelle Bassler from Sarah Karge, after she learned that she had a tunnel built into the place, and a wormhole. No one knew what a wormhole was back then, but strange rumbling sounds emanated from it, and when going into certain rooms, major memories and or emotions of varying things from your life, would suddenly well up inside a person, and hit them like a tidal wave, and it effected the top floor of the 'then' Mayflower Hotel, DEMOLISHED WHEN THE EXPERTS COULD NOT GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THINGS, and it is the best kept secret to this very day, just Y no other structures have ever been built on the south side of Tennessee Avenue. This time warp is dangerous, and will only get more dangerous. The day of the terror attack, a plot to wipe AC-NJ off the map was indeed behind it all, and the Shaw, and president of next door Iraq, 'house-in', all knew what was going on. The planes were all headed for AC-NJ, and were computer diverted to Wash and York, by powers too great for me to list on this blog today, and I do agree with our president. When a nation is at war, and we are all a globally hi-tek connected society, so it is a crime against humanity, to give away secret info that can lead to anyone's harm, and I will not B guilty in any way, of doing that. I am not against anybody, except the real true astral world entities, that R making my life an endless infinite total nightmare hell, but I am vehemently against breaking the law, and especially MURDER. THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR CRIMES, AND NEVER A GOOD EXCUSE FOR MURDER, ONLY EXECUTION. SCRIPTURES FROM MELLINIA AGO teach us that the KING, which translates to any SOVEREIGN NATION, and only the King, has the right to put to death, breakers of Sarah-Stacey Jehovah's law's and commandments, and it is not murder to punish guilty persons who have murdered. It is legal and moral, JUSTIFIED EXECUTION. This is YI would never advocate any violent acts, or breaking of laws; as this is most certainly not what MORIANITY is all about. Now, the LAMISTS/LEVIATHINS; they do advocate vicious crimes, and they R not at all opposed to using murder, and they should all be taken to Dogtown for 30 kalpas to rot and whale. These filthy scum, pulled one of their magic tricks, even against my hacker; and they messed up all that we tried to accomplish last week. I knew that something had to B wrong, when the stinking DOW kept flying with the birds, and my poor pathetic PHILLIES, kept getting slammed and slammed, and Batman zonk-boom-crash-dingdong hammered. Well, we R back, we made it back, and we're on the track, the lightning flashed, it's in the past, the thunders fill, so here's the drill, my soul is now a blissful thrill; yeah a little ditty to let-ya crumbags know that we do not give up as easily as U may think, so 'fukyas'!!!!!!!!!! Sorry about the Indonesian quake, yeah it hit again, but they will not tell U about it in their fixed hyped media. I have many enemies in the controlled US media. Sorry about all the flooding and other plagues that I told U on the prior blog that I'd B forced 2 cause. No choice; they just left me no choice but to show them who the devil they're messin' with!!!!!! My Aunt was given Lou Gehrig death disease, ALS, transmitted to them by controlled lawtrons with the agenda to keep Sarah from ever remembering she is Almighty Jehovah, in this world, and is stuck here helplessly, without her memories and powers. Well not entirely without powers, as she is 50 times me without even knowing a thing, but if I ever sent her a letter 2 the H2O Company, she would know what happened, that the Lamists got their way temporarily; and then she would right all the wrongs, and come and take me away with her forever, as we R together forever on higher astral realms anyway. How exactly the Iran/Iraq thing is connected into all of this, would require a book the size of 'The Winds of War', and then some. What would they do without their childish immature combo-punches? They love to hit me with a plane, and when I look up, boom, there's a chemtrail; or a motorcycle goes by, boom, then follows a nasty chopper attack, as they did lots of this last weekend, on my job, as these pure wicked filth won't give me a moments peace, and allow me a minimum wage part time job, and an 18 year old automobile, no, they won't be satisfied until I have 5 quarts of blood totally removed from my pathetic puny body. Wanna really kick cunt at the shore? Go into a casino with pad and pencil, go to a roulette table, and write down number outcomes, below it write b/r, o/e/, l/h, in three columns, ex. 11-b/o/l, 28 b/e/h, 19 r/o/h, etc. Every time any of the three parameters of the 1-36 #'s, comes up twice, called by pro-gamblers, a doubleton, if it breaks, put an X on the outcome that broke it, and if it strings to 3 or more, draw a circle around the 3rd outcome, and wait for new string. All doubletons are exed, and all 3-over strings, are circled. This visual system, on some games and wheels when a parameter is not even close to running evenly, will jump out and bite U in the ass; showing you for example that the red/black parameter has few circles, mostly exes, so after 2 reds or 2 blacks, go with the wheel. When UR not being efed with all the time by vicious forces, U can clean chips off the table, but just go for 10, and use purple color. What's wrong with an easy fifty grand for half an afternoon's work for crissake????? My message to all those making my life a living hell with no conscience at all: Your moms were terrific with me last night in my bedroom, VRROOOOOMMM!!! No, the dangerous gang of Sarah's friends, on the Astral Realm, are called the VI-QUEENS. You must remember that all things are really happening in void nothing, and when we dream-down into Astral life, things group and form, and work similarly to Earth realm life, but UR seeing it totally backwards, as it is happening REALLY there, and we then as a result, get tired and bored, and fall asleep, and away from there; and dream-down here to this and us. My blog is in the process of being fixed this week, in chapter order, then it will be promoted, so keep bearing with me, thank U-all's.

posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 11:49 AM

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About Me

: Name: theansweristheqyuestion; Location: Hammonton, New Jersey, United States, ESMWG.

Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense', at least according to one of Morianity's biggest fans out there somewhere in the magical lands of Cyberspace!

View my complete profile

MIKE MCNULTY WOULD SAY IT BETTER THAN I COULD EVEN DARE TO HOPE TO, YO!

WHAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,

CHAPTER 24-B

BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

2:20 POST MERIDIAN

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

29 FEBRUARY, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

The final day of the second month of 2020, the year of vision, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 29, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WAXING CRESCENT 6:7

N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.

JANE SLEAZEWEEDSDISEASE JUST MOTHER FUCKING GOT ME REALLY GOUUUUUUUD AGAIN, LOVELY HELEN 1999 ZEBRISKI, WHEREVER YOU MAY BE OUT THERE ON YOUR LOVELY SAINT THOMAS ISLAND!!!!!!

Well, as you all know quite well, last week and the last three weeks or so now, and to quote my wonderful, great, and thoroughly totally missed by me, and the smarter half of the country and planet, Sir President #44, Barack Obama; have been beyond a MAJOR “DOOZIE WHOPPER” OF A TIME, yo! Oh the gods, how I truly verily miss you and your wonderful administration, sir. Those were back in the times of somewhat reasonable global sanity, kind sir, wherever you may be!!!!!!!!!!!! But yes folks, the past weeks now have been OFF OF THE 'DAMN' CHARTS HORRENDOUS FOR ME, and you all know it just as much as I do; so why shouldn't me' goddamn nightmares and hyperspace-interactions, also be major likewise totally surreal and beyond outlandishly bizarre for crying out Fontana Loud?????????????? Well, they sure were last night or actually late this morning, causing me to arise with another HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE BANG, and a carbon copy in more ways than one, of yesterday's situation, or as Morianity has renamed this, SHITUATION for the damn MOUNTAINPEN, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo me' BROADCASTED BRO!!! Now that I have become a whole Dogtown of a lot more politically knowledgeable since this shit has all made its way into me' own personal life with such an incredible vengeance, I know now why poor Mister Barack was unable to do anything. He had that ultimate dirtbag Bitch Prick-Bonnel (Mitch McConnell) in the United States Senate, blocking every single thing that the poor dude ever tried to do to better his great awesome fucking country, the United States of America, while Trump and his goons and henchmen were all along working even then behind the scenes to fuck it all up for the rest of his NON-SUPER-WEALTHY-PALS or to quote the great 1991 ADA Sir Ron Wirtz Senior, “HIS BUDDIES”!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes folks; this 2020 year, bad as the last three have been, with Ultimate-Hyper-Ultra-Dirtbag DJT in the Oval Office of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Wash your hands WASHINGTON, DC-13-600; this year has been so bad, that I doubt that I am going to survive through it, in order TO BE ABLE TO MAKE MY ESCAPE FROM THIS NOW TOTALLY EVIL EMPIRE, UNDER CRIMINAL DONALD JOHN TRUMP'S RULE AND IRON DICTATOR'S FIST, WHO HAS BEEN KILLING ME AND DOING ME IN, SINCE THE MIDDLE MOTHER FUCKING NINETEEN-EIGHTIES, WHEN THIS ALL BEGAN BETWEEN US. He as you all know, whether you choose to believe the validity to my wild tale of ultimate fish stories on steroids, WAS MAGICALLY ABLE TO SOMEHOW CAUSE ME TO USE MY TAPE RECORDERS AND SPECIAL DEVICES AND ELECTRONIC TALENTS, TO BRING THIS EVIL MONSTER INTO OUR REALM, back many decades ago, as the mystical PHASE-4-ENTITY character who we all know and hate by now and many love perhaps, as SHORTY MACINVONDI. Yes great Philadelphia Amplitude Modulation Radio Station World of the nineteen-seventies; good old Sir Mindless Tape Recorder here, and literally and unfortunately for us all, “AT YOUR SERVICE”, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! I believe Uncle Billy on that great movie called, “It's A Wonderful Life” would now say thissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss following little short diatribe, huh lovely Mizz Erica Snakes AMC Kane from 1983, while I was living at the now somewhat globally famous and renown CHOCK-HIGH-NECK rental home of Real Estate Investor, Sir Jerry Pliner, at 134 Norris Avenue Non Chuckgarages Shannonkickacar Wildhyperspacetimes Genlownorthatlanticity, in the great and completely illustrious Atco, NJUSAESMWG; “Boy oh boy oh boy Georgie”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes folks, last nights DREAMS were wild as all get out, squared, and CUBAN-CUBED, with or without any wild DEATH SONIC BEAMS FROM HUSH HUSH SECRET BLACK-OPS COVE AGENCIES of virtually unlimited alphabet-soup-nomenclature. I was with a very strange dude who I seemed to know very well in that parallel world. He had invented a wild car that made anything that the Queens's Secret Agent Sir James Bond ever had, fictionally of course; look quite damn tame! It was able to turn instantaneously into a helicopter, and it had the ability to drop down all sorts of things, and normally it was major litter, and he used it on our enemies there, and let me tell you the story, as it is mind boggling ass fucking cool as all dogshit get the fuck out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We were driving to some very large shopping mall to talk to my daughter about something that was medical in nature, WEIN, since I admitted that my entire 2012 music project was to try to get her to help me with whatever we both are magically and mysteriously suffering through. It did not work since I believe BonJovi's peeps made that 'phone-call', or someone did; and told them not to do a great job on the song. But getting back to this incredible “DREAM”; we drove to this place, but half way there, our MILITUFORCE enemies, just as they do here in this reality; began persecuting and harassing us big time, and they continued to make traffic lights all turn red and stay red so that we could not go anywhere. Eventually, my friend hit a magic button in his car and it turned into a huge weird whirlybird and we rose high into the sky and began to fly around. I wanted to go on and forget the whole thing, but he laughed and told me, “We'll show these fucking assholes a thing or two”. He then flew right back to the area of several intersections where this had taken place, and then he pushed another weird little button, and poof, suddenly an unfathomable amount of debris and litter, everything from busted glass bottles to pieces of tires and virtually any kind of litter you can imagine, began to rain down onto the streets where we had just been and were prevented from going to see my daughter. He laughed so loudly I actually had to hold me' ears in the dream, or actually, me' double over there was doing this, and I was watching it, and is why we have those rapid eye movements while we SLEEP AND DREAM. We flew to an open field near a small side street and he changed the flying bird back into his car, and we again trekked towards this giant shopping mall where my daughter was going to be. We got there and we parked. Then we went inside and found our way into a gigantic food store and at the back of it, there was a weird half hospital and half laboratory looking area, and we kept walking through many hallways and seemingly endless doors and more hallways. Eventually we entered a room about the size of fifteen by fifteen feet in area. Merry was sitting inside of some wild tubular shaped device with a big smile on her face, happy to see the two of us. My friend whose name totally escapes me now here in waking life, began to discuss lots of really wild stuff, and they seemed to have a ton of dialogue going on between them, and I was just standing there listening very carefully to every word that was exchanged between them. After the talk was winding down and I had said just a few things past hi how's it going, my pal took some weird small container filled with some copper colored liquid, and he poured it down a drainage system that fed into the tubular system that Merry was encased in. I thought that she was going to have a conniption fit but instead, she was expecting this, and she thanked him quite extensively. Then after we had walked out of this lab area and back out into the food store part of this wild place, I walked over to a special counter with some beyond weird products on the shelves of it. A Rack Jobber who stocked those shelves suddenly walked over and began asking me some questions about Morianity and hyperspace. Now this is where shit gets, to quote my 1999 glorified prostitute “girlfriend” Mizz Helen Zebriski, very inconceivably “GOUUUUUUUD”. Just as I was about to try and answer some of what this guy was asking me out of the blue, my pal came up from the other side of the shelf area, and he began telling this guy to follow us outside and as we got outside and walked towards his mind bending one third Bat-mobile, one third James Bond Mobile, and one third Rod Serling Vehicle-Registered 'Twilightzonemobile'; the two of them began to discuss Merry's Musical Producer, some guy with an extremely wild sounding name, and nothing like anything I have heard here in waking life, not that I follow music as we all know quite well. Still, this name stood out in a major ass way, and if I ever heard it in waking life, I sure promise you all that I would have most definitely remembered it for crying out Fontana damn loud, yo!!!!!!! In any event, it appears that I have picked up recently, a brand new hyperspace ESS-Traveler-interrogator-whatever, because remember how yesterday I was awakened with that brutal assault that all began with SLAMMING DOORS, and was a part of the dream that I was just in, or called in my Morianity, a DADS ELECTRIC SHAVER HYPERSPACE TOWEL SEEPAGE EFFECT for short (DESHSTSE) that I pronounce in fun, a 'DESH-SHIT-C', HA-HA-HA MIZZ SHEILA FRANKLIN of the great old HAIR MOVIE with 5^th Dimensional lovely Mizz Marilyn McCoo, from late in 1968 somewhere, on Broadway, Manhattan? Well just as with goddamn yesterday, the same thing happened today, and also just following eleven in the damn morning. As soon as the conversation about Merry's Music Producer was sort of going but not yet quite ended, the Rack Jobber interrupted my doppelganger's pal with the wild ride, and he did that very SAME THING WITH HIS TWO FISTS THAT WERE DONE BY SOMEONE ELSE IN ANOTHER DREAM THE NIGHT BEFORE, and he interrupted what my pal was saying concerning this music guy with that wild name, and he said to me, this man wants you to know that the ESS is just about to bring you into their fold but that they first need you to take your Cable Bill down that curvy road and pay it, despite all the wild frightening animals trying to bite you and kill you. For those who don't remember this, there was a wild dreaming interaction more than half a decade back in time now, where I was given a chance to join the Exploratronic Supermind Society, in my DREAM, and they had huge amplifiers everywhere and virtually unlimited electronic and sound apparatus sprawled out in some dormitory looking room, and someone was talking about three women, and these three women were very strange people, and they wanted me to go and pay a CABLE BILL over at a Comcast Office that was down along this very winding road where huge dinosaurs were all over the place making super loud scary sounds and threatening me should I even so much as tread a few yards down that damn road. But going back to the man in today's wild nightmare experience; he said that there was one cable bill and three women and that a door would slam again with the dual action of his third fist strike and so again, as he struck his fist and made this third fist connection, simultaneously with that strike, I heard BANG, and sure enough, I awakened again, and it was loud slamming doors, and loud voices, and when I walked over to my door, I heard lots of shouting out in the hallway. This same thing has happened now, TWO DAYS IN A GODDAMN ROW, YO!

Folks, I made another error, or else it was another famous MILITUFORCE MIND HACK (PBHE) as I called this very often in my earlier Morianity or its first quarter era in time through the summer of 2009 or so and since its inception in January of 2006. I said that the wild hyperspace interaction with SARAH KRASSLE on Pearl Harbor (PH) DAY was on 12-12 in 1996, but as you know, and we all know, PH-DAY is on 12-7. Sorry, I fucked up, or DID I? That was what I referred to so goddamn ass frequently back in earlier New Jersey MORIANITY, with my naming this situation, PBHE (Prior Blogging Hacks and/or Errors. Sometimes it is the MIND that is hacked, and other times it is the computer or the MACHINE that is, but many times, at least IMHO; it is BOTH. Why not use both barrels of your shotgun? If you're lucky enough to be holding the damn gun on somebody, then for crying out loud, why plug up one of the sides of it?????

Yes Virginia Avenue in Atlantic City; there really is a Sarah ACMUA CALLIO MARTINO, or WAS; at 401 Virginia KRASSLE DOWnloaderChrome DOW JONES, and maybe there always will be too. There also is a GODDESS FASCITAR I've come to learn from using this marvelous toothpaste-tool, Sir Microsoft Spellchecker. She lives not that far in fact from the human being who I knew and interacted with for a year or more over in Florence Township, NJUSAESMWG; at the great and illustrious Griffin Pipe Callio-Tube Company. Yes, Goddess Fascitar lives along the great Ring River in what would sort of be pronounced in English Earth verbiage as the Ring Albridetto Cirlacfdateez Province, neighboring on one side of it, Province Olympia which is of course the CAPITOL PROVINCE of the entire Astral Plane, or the Purgatory. On the south-nestern side of Province Olympia, are many inter-provincial linelanes into the great neighboring province, where Steve Murray as a human being, lives as the great Demigod Psyche Myrathus. He used to tell me that he is here on vacation and that I am a totally different species than he is. He is of course quite correct, but let's for now, get back on pernt Sir Archibald Bunkerqueens, and back to the great RING RIVER area where many powerful and totally unknown COINS AND COILS all reside in the mighty and incredible and surreal PURGATORY! The Ring River surrounds a gigantic area that is about 85 percent of the surface area of our beautiful lovely MOON, here in physical caporial life. This area is mountainous and these mountains extend as high as the Olympian Chain, about ten and a quarter Earthly measured miles. Half way up this mountain that is surrounded by the great Ring River, is the home of the Myrathus Family Gods, huge COILS just like the ARTEEMIS family, (Diana and her peeps). A cousin of Psyche is married to a cousin of the Goddess Fascitar and her peeps. This is all I know at present, about such matters, but I have done plenty of speculating, and to quote our now Latengrate Disco Queen, the lovely Donna Summer; I have also recently done quite a bit of reanalyzing and “reevaluating many of my preconceived notions”. Most peeps never knew that Mizz Donna Adrian Gaines Summer could talk this way, but she had many hidden talents and ideas that the general population never knew. She was quite the draw artist as well as the musical artist, and she drew many great pictures, some owned by a dude who I personally knew from back up near the Philadelphia area. But we can always get back to shit such as Philadelphia, tape recorders, the great wireless school, Donna Summer, and Jim Maverick Rockford and his loose teeth. Goddess Fascitar visited the ancient Chinese Dynasties, and also she visited many of the great original Sri Guru's and even the Eck Masters, from many areas surrounding the Himalayan Mountain chains, and also the great highland areas of Central-South America, such as the highlands of Guatemala, mountainous regions in Peruvian territory; and she brought to many of them, HER ANCIENT SECRET WISDOM of what the mighty ECKANKAR RELIGION labels and claims for their own registered grouping of words, “SOUL TRAVEL”. Beyond saying things such as the great I-CHING, and the powerful people of Guatemala and many of their magical Santeria concepts and wisdom, is all from the great powerful NON-OZ, lovely Goddess FASCITAR, an incredible COIL from the inconceivable timeless PURGATORY!!!!!! On top of all these things, I know for a fact another thing that only one person in approximately ten million knows on this planet, and that is concerning the original church after Jesus Christ came and went, known as the ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH, and its systems of canonization, and how only sixty-six BIBLICAL BOOKS ended up in the actual finished BIBLE, chosen by men, human beings and NOT GOD; to be in there; and to have many other powerful wisdom's all left out. The Christians believe wholeheartedly that the HOLY SPIRIT or what I call ELECTRICITY, was in full charge of what made it into the BIBLE. I don't agree with them. I know there is a powerful negative FAWCE that controls many things here in caporial life on this PHYSICAL PLANE, and I don't buy that for a second. There is much hidden powerhouse wisdom that never made it into the BIBLE, causing this world much of the grief and agony that we are all in and have been for nearly two thousand fucking cunt years now as a result of Catholic CANONIZATION. In some of these incredible and unfathomable writings, it is said that JESUS CHRIST took an unknown journey even before going to the Jordan River for HIS baptism where CUZZ-JOHN baptized him with CALLIO-JUICE and ELECTRICITY, a vely powerful combination, to hear most skilled electricians tell it, yo! On this wild journey, HE met with some of the enlightened guru peeps who had made contact with GODDESS FASCITAR, and this is how he was told to go to CUZZ-JOHN to complete the electrical circuit, only other words were used here, I'm quite damn sure! These scriptures that discuss this truth were considered by the R.C. Church to be just too far out for the ordinary church goer to be able to access. In the beginning and shortly after the Bible was completed, they did not encourage any individual Bible reading. It was only to be taught by those IN CHARGE WHO KNEW BETTER, the great FATHERS, ABBA PRIESTS, the Controllers, to hear Sir Mike Patterson tell it. I am naut so sure that he is far off base and out into left field here, but I'll reserve me' judgment for now, kind folks, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA, SIR MIKE MCNULTY.

My very fave STAR TREK TV SHOW was naut the one voted at the 30^th year Star Trek Anniversary to be #1, called, “The Trouble With Tribbles”, although I gleaned a major huge bunch of JRSS based stuff from viewing that one, naut excluding the glance off to me' lovely venetian blinds at me' bedroom's Somerdale Death House, just down the block from the Earthly recognized Murray Soda Shop that is and was I suppose, AKA the Pharmacy there in Somerdale, and I have forgotten its name, as my days on that anti-anxiety drug are long over now, and I have tried to block out lots of bad fucking rotten memories of my chocking to death that began at 10:30 PM on the night of 4 June, in the year of 1983. The word-disappearing hack is starting up, dirt bag mother fuckers. But getting back to Star Trek, my fave episode was called, “Assignment Earth”, with that cool dude, Mister Gary 7, and co-staring that lovely Terri Garr, who also went onto star with John Denver, in the great movie with George Burns, called, “Oh GOD”. I am convinced that there is an Assignment-Earth all right, and that there indeed is a mission and a powerful agenda, from JUST WHOEVER IS TRULY BEHIND ALL OF CREATION as well as BIBLICALLY ORGANIZED RELIGION being introduced into the sociologically accepted order here on this Earth-Planet, and part of this gargantuan damn assignment, is several broken down parts, maybe chapters would be a wise word choice. One of the most incredible chapters, at least for me, is the one where it seems to be of ultimate fucking global importance, if not absolute damn ass necessity; to keep one MISTER MARK WAYNE MOHR, endlessly OPPRESSED, kept intentionally financially poor, down, hurt, miserable, wrecked, and ruined. Kept endlessly unable to do anything of any significance or importance, let alone endlessly being unable to DO ANYTHING AT ALL, EVER. Obviously because he has some weird potential to do something that just might END this nightmare horrible shit eating hellishness called slavery, drudgery, and being trapped in physical life here on this Earth. When we examine this fictional STAR TREK TELEVISION SHOW EPISODE, “ASSIGNMENT EARTH”, and see it in a connected fashion with me and my endless nightmare shituations described fully now for a lengthy fourteen plus years on these blogs of PURE DOGTOWN (HELL), we can see unless blinder than a cave full of fucking bats, that obviously some HUGE HALLS FAWCES DEAL is indeed going on, that something similar to GARY-7, is literally keeping me down and completely destroyed ever since leaving school at COOLEY HALL in January of 1973; and to quote Sir Dennis Snyder here peeps, “That's just reality, son”! Funny how the endless James Redfield's Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS) never ever stops participating in all of thissssssss, huh lovely Erica 1983 Kane, oh U gorgeous girl? I mean take the producer guy in Merry's 2001 glittering lights movie from the non-casino world, but the music world or industry as it is termed. Good old Mister DICE. Give me a break here Margie Leo, or cut me one, or DON'T, cum to think of that more seriously. Dice, lucky 7, Gary 7, I mean, things like this can happen, and I fully realize that. ButTERCHEESE, and a big ass BUTT and yessir, but; naut every damn minute of the day over and over, countless times without end, naut unless there truly are real connections to things. This is a law that is simply built into the system of our cosmos, and Morianity has labeled it as LAWTRONICS for crying out loud. Full righteous, full evil, full what, Mister Dice Murdering L&O-Los Angeles dude? I mean, even Chicago employees tried a stupid stunt, and I still wonder why that damn Chicago DA let him off with just a few hard smacks on his wrist? “Boy oh boy oh boy”; let us block out some loud booming sounds, of which I am no fan; oh 'job keeping Librarians' of the great © Office (Library of the Congress) in WASH YOUR HANDS, WASHINGTON!!!!!!!!!! Talk about nonsense like that. On last night's wonderful “LIVE PD” TV-SHOW, this asshole has a twelve kilowatt car stereo system. Give me a break. Do you want to even try and understand just how much damage you are doing to the only two mother fucking eardrums that GODDESS-SSJKK gave to you? Hey, your ear-funeral buddy. That much electricity with those absurd monitors in your vehicle, will most likely be able to pump out between 15 and 16 BELLS OF SOUND PRESSURE. I knew some rock stars who played concerts in the mid west back in the late seventies and early eighties who now are as deaf as a snake's ass. So you go right ahead AND BE STUPID, as this LIVE-PD fan is naut one bit impressed. Normally, I am naut impressed with what Dave Roth would call back in the damn eighties, “The epitome of stupidity”! Sorry about that. I'm just being totally straight with you'alls on something heredahelda and here, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!

Folks, and yes Microsoft sir, FOLKSINGERS too; I honestly don't think that people are anything more than mother fucking total puppets on strings. Mike Patterson says this frequently, and I wholeheartedly concur with his mental faculties here. Anything that any of us do that is good, it is not us doing it, it is GOD. Anything that any of us do that is bad, is SATAN. Now we are given a FREE WILL to choose at every single fucking microsecond, whether to follow the LEAD of the POSITIVE POLARITY FAWCE (GOD) or the NEGATIVE POLARITY FAWCE (SATAN). When there is no carbon in this nuclear programmed time mix (CREATION), these simple cosmic truths of positive and negative fawce are still there, but they are completely as IMPERSONAL as was the MATHEMATICS on Sir Dave Smith's great COOLEY HALL CLASSROOM BLACKBOARD. Once carbon brings life and waking world consciousness into a nuclear timed program that advances the big bang into eventual stellar nurseries and then eventually into all of this Earthly life here; this is when EVERYTHING SUDDENLY ALTERS and things begin to reshape. The fawces of MISTER HALL haven't altered one little tiny iota. The only thing that has changed is that now we are here and conscious to this beyond big bang life, and every second becomes an endless choice to go with the positive or to go with the negative pulls. Talk about quintessential mother fucking bipolar conditions surrounding each and every one of us. So we in essence are ALL BIPOLAR, some merely experience lesser or greater degrees of pull. Still, let us go on just a tad wee bit with this. I don't think that any of these people in Atlantic City, New York City, or Washington, DC, are behind a thing that is screwing up me' life. BUTTERCHEESE and a big ass fucking endless BUTT-BUT here peeps; I know for a fact, that HALLS FAWCES are working through these peeps. In truth I knew all this when I would have those lengthy telephone conversations with the illustrious know it all, Mister James Tiberius Burr of Gloucester City, the other damn Gloucester City All Knowing resident, after-all yo why not have the king and the queen KNOW-IT-ALLS hailing right from the very same geographical area, for crying out loud, Detective Joe Fontana, kind sir???!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These goddamn mother fucking HALLS FAWCES simply used peeps like all these female recording artists, coworkers, landlords, neighbors, friends, enemies, politicians, cops, and yes robbers too, all the criminals who have preyed on me to the point of ugly vulgar surreality on steroids; and they had an agenda all along to keep me down, oppressed, and totally destroyed, whether it be sooner or later, as eventually we all mother fucking taste the bitter stench of the grave. These peeps spoken so often of on this 14+ year blogging project known as MORIANITY, are merely pawns and puppets in the hands of true ASTRAL REALM PUPPETEERS. For reasons that will endlessly remain unknown within the scope and mortal lifetime of one Mark Wayne Mohr, the great 1802 ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS, or the great ten years earlier prophesied FARM OUTSIDE OF HADDONFIELD, NJUSAESMWG; was all part of some totally inconceivable and HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE plot, to wipe out my entire life forever, because in the minds of these PURGATITE coins and coils or ASTRAL PLANE GODS/GODDESSES, I had to be wiped out, for reasons that ONLY THEY WILL EVER BE FUCKING PRIVY TO!!!!!!!!! I believe that I'll now turn things over to the mighty Shoeknockeroutter Sir Chester-Frank now, and just go, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!

Now I will not tell who it was who put me into a mild trance, against perhaps my better judgment, and made me remember that wild night a little bit clearer, the night that altered my history, FOREVER. Still, as Gene Blucran Rotten-Berry and his pals all knew quite well, my non-probe induced trip that lasted 153 days and not to the Russican Planet, was one thing, merely adding the letter-C to the country known as Russia in the non fiction world; and it was an entirely different thing how my 1980 traveler song that was my best recollection when the event was brand new to me, of a much more gargantuan truth, the song sung to me by the GREAT SCYLLA GODDESS JEHOVAH, owner of the multiverse; called what else other than, “Love Is For Carpenters”, and sometimes shortened by me this author, to LOIS FOCA. The illustration sentence above makes an obvious conclusive reason for my doing this, no rocket science involved at least not that I was yet to be consciously aware of. Still, Gene Roddenberry sir, I was also the New Jersey inventor from World Laboratories, with my KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL invention. The odds of all of this coincidental activity would be perdy dern close to a million to one against being just that, and not a connection directly to my life, in the 'non-fictional' world, and what a laugh many think those words to be, only I am not laughing, lads and lassies, not even in a whisper tone.

Now the real problem in analyzing my entire life that eventually created all by itself, a religion for this third AD millennium, is that it is complex, and also by the minds and attitudes of the masses who let the media asshole world owners control their every thoughts and actions at least 95-99 percent of the time; all of it is totally crazy and nuts and not worth wasting five seconds even learning about any of it. Well I assure you, this is not the attitude of the WORLD OWNERS who make these masses think and believe this about me. They know it is all 100% for real, and then they act like an old foe of Almighty Jehovah, ''SATAN'' as church and religious folks call this entity; go onto deceive and lie about what they already know to be true. This SATAN bastard, knows that we all are totally eternal, and that there is a Sahasra Dal Kanwal, a great Almighty Goddess who he has managed to cleverly currently get very close to, and she allows this; but then he lies to the rest of humanity and makes us all believe after life there is basically nothing ever again and get it while the 'gettin's-good' as they say; as after you die, bye-bye, it's all over forever. He knows this is nonsense, and yet tells the world continuously, a direct bold face lie of the complete opposite. This is how this agent of evil and hell works his magic, to steal all the light out and away from our world, slowly but surely. It is more and more rotten and miserable, no matter how great and wonderful anything at all, begins as. Now I am not going to go into a ninety thousand word diatribe here on this blog about the details that concern all this, as it is not important right now. But I have literally a four digit collection of facts that are far different than those known about by any scientific community, religious community, or even, occult and paranormal community. This places MORIANITY into a zone all of its own, and just because it stands quietly alone for right now, other than for 60,100 page views by maybe 15-50 steady readers and a few stragglers and curiosity seekers, of whom the gods only know the percentage of non-agents; still, maybe it is my job to show AGENTS how real this all is, as after-all, it is they who literally contain the power to make huge changes around all of us little powerless folks that definitely effect all of our lives at multiple countless levels, continually.

Now, if what happened to me in August of 1986, is ever to be fully grasped by any of you, let alone by me; an entire group of events, to quote the great Terry from Egg Harbor, New Jersey, not the detention center or the island high school, there Microsoft, but thanks for the memories; all needs to be properly categorized, if not in a perfectly organized time order to get Terry salivating, so much as, a complete order or a list of the ''everything involved'' in the August 1986 life altering experience. It involves using Magnesonic and the crush-destruct punishment sequencing programming of another NEW JERSEY INVENTION, only it ended up becoming one single invention, and never was housed in one single unit or machine, remaining to this day, a collection of technologies never encased into one fixed and grabbable brief case or even large electronic box. The only word that fits what I need to say is GRABBABLE, so screw it if I need to make up this new word and use it. I need to tell what I need to tell, case closed, Archibald Queens Bunker! That too could be thought of I suppose, as ''ALL IN THAT FAMILY'', if I am allowed a small bit of humor here, folks.

You missed me Jane Sleazeweedsdisease Waterwitchbitch! Close, but still, ha ha, no damn cigar. The things that were all going on at the time of this life altering deal, was crushing the great Sarah Krassle on Magnesonic, and then taking the broken image-object or (IO) for a short abbreviation; to the dark shores of Long Beach Island in New Jersey, and digging a whole and burying this likeness of her into the sand near the breakwater. The entire weather altered within seconds after doing this, and stars winked out, and clouds rolled in; and a chilly almost winter wind came zipping along that night in late July of 1986 somewhere, if my memories are at all accurate. It had to be within the three official months of summer time. That much I remember clearly. Memories only fuzz out when this great TAWF family is involved in things, one way or the other. The only time my memories have appeared to be MESSED-WITH, or whatever; is when THEY ARE INVOLVED IN SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE, and never at any other time. The trip to see the group called, 'NEW SHOES', in NYC, USA, friends of my pal Dave; was also made on Saturday evening, the second of August, and was 13 days before I had sent the song I came to write the following week, about my experience while Dave was in the night club and I had chosen to remain in the vehicle, for copyright, called, “Real Good Girl”, and then the wild experience with the major earache that hurt as bad as a mastoid infection or whatever they used to call extreme infections in the ears. Why this happened is unknown, and is all around the very same time that my musical arranger, Mister Tom Glenn almost burned to death in a fire. He had just been operated on in a nearby local hospital, and was recuperating when a major hospital fire started, always always, FIRES, as I said many times, the recording studio fire next door at the toy factory, right Emmit Smokes? The apartment fire just down from my apartment in 1984, while I was at my second of three total stays at the Robin Hill Apartments, photos have been previously posted and doing it every time I reference it is kind of 'blogger-babyish', at least to me. This is all way too serious to play, “Wow look at a fancy blog”. Urgent important stuff needs to be spoken of here folks. There's no time right now for any childish games.

Now the same wild forces that were all starting to interact on me so incredibly negatively in August of 1986, were the very same ones that were there a decade later when I suddenly was struck like a magician's spell aimed my way, to locate the mystery-girl of my past, Sarah Nurockey, if this is her name and proper spelling, as I cannot ever be humanly sure. I only know that on the Astral Plane, the land of the dead, her name is Sarah Krassle, and is indeed spelled exactly like this, not the way Razzy McThaxton spelled it on his nice comment on that now closed off chat page on me, from the great WFMU internet radio station. I do not know if it is an internet-only station, nor could I care in the least little bit.

So without even beginning to touch the fifteenth day in that 1986 August, kind folks, you can see that already, many things were all going down all around me and my circle of associates, from friends such as Dave, to musical arrangers I had do some work for me six years earlier, and so on and so forth. Still and all, along came the night that I fell into my bed and asleep, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, on Route 70 or the Marlton Pike, same thing; in New Jersey, and things altered forever for me right then and there. Interesting, you know, those first three letters in the name of the highway that is also numbered another wild coincidental numeration, MC was born in 1970 of course, and this is, you must realize, another high odds coincidence here, (MARlton Pike). Still, it goes deeper. Despite being in extreme agony, I chose to use my I-CHING-WANDS to travel to no specific place, I believe my mind set was along the lines of, let the spirit guide me, literally. I do not remember the hexagram that I had thrown, unlike that time nearly a decade later around shortly past midnight early into the morning of 1996's Pearl Harbor Day, December the seventh. The ear infection was no where near as bad when I went to sleep on the night as it was on the morning of my next day awakening. Before doing anything I went to the then called, Garden State Hospital to get antibiotics and ear drops, and have it looked at. I came home, and within an hour, I had scalded myself with some super hot tea that I had spilled onto myself, and even had a few second degree burns as a result. Twice in one day, I was at the same hospital, for two separate incidents. This is usually not even experienced by spousal abuse victims, and is practically an unheard of record breaking event for Guinness himself.

Now, let us say that a lot of things all fused together in ways that by some wild crazy chance, just happened to be that one chance in a trillion or so to happen, and I drew the shittiest straw in the history of the cosmos. Fine, I can live with that, or can I, but my pernt, sir Archie Bunker is as follows, sir: Some huge collection of total ''weirdness'' struck me at this one exact point in time, senator Watergate, and without any connections to the great Washington building Break-in, by Mister Nixon's men on 17 June of 1972, mister Jockamini, or however that Haddon Township high School guidance Counselor spelled his dam name back in 1967 and 1968. I had told him all about this date, and even how in a symbolic way, something would be involved in holding back some great flood waters. Well, I do not know a better Webster definition for a WATER-GATE. But in any event, all of these things, led me to a wild powerful reality where it was now middle August, and I had been keeping a sort of chart-diary, where my life was measured mathematically day by day in numbers ranging from 1-5, and is where I today get my 55555555 compensations for Jane Fonda and her evil ones attack, as rating anything a one, normally was very bad, and all ones, was the number version for the word to be soon invented and used a lot by my pal Dave and myself, and you hear decades later repeated on these blogs, “BOTBAR”!

All throughout the rest of 1986, I made nothing of what happened on the second, thirteen nights ago, on Dave and my excursion into Manhattan. This is because of one powerful reason. Another MEMORY HACK OUT. I am sure that my daughter has had the very same McGuire experience, as he has persecuted her branch of the family right along with me, ever since the sixties and seventies. It took until 2008 to even start putting so very much together. Then when I attempted to do the unthinkable, and blog the details of all of the connecting dots, my life was nearly snuffed out by another branch of these washcloth cutter-outers, and this nearly cost me my life by way of being brutally and horrendous murdered. Dawn would have buried me in the berry fields of Hammonton out beyond the FBI guy's house, and to this day, Mark Wayne Mohr would be on missing milk bottles and weekly grocery store missing news ad circulars. I PROMISE YOU ALL THIS, kind peeps.

Well my Morians, Lessians, and Inbetweenians; let me please take this opportunity for thanking you for at least pulling me past 60,000 PV. This may not go anywhere in my life time, but if it is the truth as I know it is, it will not vanish or die or be destroyed, not by all the MILITUFORCES of the entire world. And what if this person is correct, and I was invited into the ESS on that night, and something happened, and all of the other stuff is merely some kind of a cosmic window dressing? Well, this needs a lot of further explanations. I tried showing you all how I gave it one last ditch effort to be a hobbyist music creator, as I loved doing since the age of four. Every time I am stopped. I had wild ''dreams'' of it all happening before it even did. And again, it was all around the Christmas-Holiday season, back in late 2012 when it all went south for me at the Avalon Recording Studio. I pasted in their page. I have no intention of ever having any more to do with people who know my sad life affairs, and then go onto mercilessly treat me like I'm a piece of dirty stinky dog shit. This is what they did. Anyone who wants to ever have anything to do with these creeps, can do it at their own risk, and I have not one good thing to say about them. I asked them to give me live sound, and they could have, and tricked me over and over, and made my junk come out all shitty and closed in. None of my songs ever get done right and done the way others who pay the same or less money, end up with their final product. I know it, and who these fucking jerk offs all my life think they're fooling, is anybody's guess, certainly it's not mother fucking ass me, I promise.

ESS IN THE SECOND DECADE BLOG

CHAPTER 014

IN OR OUT OF THE MIGHTY COMCAST CABLE SYSTEM WHOSE TRUE ORIGINS ON SOME OTHER LEVEL OF REALITY APPEARS TO EXIST ALONG A VERY LONG AND WINDING ROAD WITH WILD ANIMALS FROM MILLIONS OF YEARS AGO, HANGING AROUND ALL OVER THE PLACE; IS LOCATED THE GALAXY'S GREATEST SECRET GROUPATION OF SPIRIT-TRAVELRS. MOUNTAINPEN'S MORIANITY REFERS TO THEM AS THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY, for crying out loud, Joe Fontana sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dedicated to musical project number '13' from CHOKING TOWNSHIP, NJUSAESMWG, AKA ATCO!

WELCOME TO THE GREAT AND POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY! ONLY ADVANCED DREAM TRAVELERS ARE INVITED INTO THIS EXTREMELY SECRET ORGANIZATION. JOINING WILL ALTER YOUR ENTIRE LIFE WHOEVER YOU ARE, AND WHATEVER WORLD YOU MAY COME FROM. YOU MAY DECLINE, OR TO BE ACCEPTED, GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW, AND AS YOU FALL ASLEEP, REPEAT THESE WORDS, “I ACCEPT THE INITIATION TO JOIN THE ESS”, UNTIL YOU BECOME TOTALLY UNCONSCIOUS TO YOUR WAKING SURROUNDINGS. YOU WILL NOT EVER RECEIVE ANOTHER OFFER.

Live Camera from Imagine Charter ES NAU, Port Saint Lucie, FL, in this waking world where anyone may be reading this on the internet. The real place is called, TECKBAY MYSTERY SCHOOL, existing on the PHASE-2 Reality or the PLANCK, AKA the Astral-Plane,

AND AKA THE PURGATORY, yo!!!!!!!!!!!

JULY 23, 2015

THURSDAY MORNING, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, EARTH, SOL, MW-GAL

THE TIME IS 6:00 A.M.

THE TEMPERATURE IS 75 DEGREES.

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 96%, FEELING LIKE 80 DEGREES.

WIND IS WSW AT 0, WITH A TINY GUST TO 4.

YESTERDAY, MY TOWN HIT 94 DEGREES, BUT IT COOLED OFF AND GOT STORMY.

LIGHTNING CAME AROUND AND WAS SO LOVELY.

THE END, ALL SAVANTS OUT HERE, YO YO YO YO.

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Sunday, March 1, 2020

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER, CHAPTER 25 A AND B

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Krystal's Ball

Public Catalog

Public Catalog

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3

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Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

(Library usage of computers is strictly timed to give all card holders their fair turn to use the system.)

Monday, July 03, 2006

Chapter 31 My Aunt Gerry, The Friend Of The Iranian Shah

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

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