THE
BEGINNING, AND SMELLING 'GOUUUUUUUD'
3:16
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
MORNING
17
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020
MARK
WAYNE
MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
ALSO
KNOWN AS (AKA) THE
'BOM'
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
TUESDAY,
MARCH 17, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WANING
CRESCENT 1:7
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.
THE
NAME OF THIS BOOK IS:
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER
CHAPTER
42
THE
GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT FROM MORIANITY
BIBLE OF 1995,
NEW INTERNET VERSION, KNOWN AS A 'BLOG', IN THIS GREAT TWENTY-FIRST
CENTURY
I
spoke about the Huntington curse on the previous blog, Chapter #41.
I admit that I have discussed this topic a lot, and that nothing was
actually new. I told before on many prior blogs, all about the great
mass murders in my family, in February of 1948 or somewhere in that
era of time; and I even told before how all members of the family are
told that fake-balloon-'gas left on' story, until
we're all grown up enough to learn the real nightmarish truths of
this family.
But then people, are any of us ever grown up sufficiently to hear ALL
OF THE THINGS
involved here that stem from the Astral-Plane of true existence?
Because great people out here, that is indeed where this curse really
and truly does all emanate from, and the mighty man of Gloucester
City wisdom was right all along; and just seemed to know this crazy
wild shit that indeed, there
is a spiritual problem going on in this Huntington clan.
Obvious, this is why I was destined here in physical waking life as
the me-persona right now, to come to purchase that wild PRIVECODE
MACHINE, make many wild connections with other electronic gadgets and
gizmos, and eventually learn how to communicate directly with
'nuclear-life' forms (Astral Gods) if you will. Then of course, time
and eternity not being compatible ever in any way, the eventual
conscious memories of my love for Goddess Diana all began to surface
while living there in that magical wild rental home on Norris Avenue,
in Atco, New Jersey, USA. There really is no other explanation here
for all that happened from the time that I moved into that prior
residence of 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, or the great 'prophesied
farm outside of Haddonfield, New Jersey', from a decade still
earlier, leading into the Playboy Bunny, and then leading to my
departure from there, and
into that Atco rental home.
All the dots to so many things not only connect, but make sense in
gargantuan ways; so
long as we come to accept some really
surreal
and mind
blowing truths.
Once I began interacting with the electron in a personal way and
creating a coded system for HER to communicate with me through, while
living in that Atco home, things from there took off in ways that no
human being could ever even hope to imagine. But we are not free in
this world to do things such as these, not without horrendous life
altering penalties. This is what the goddamn rotten MILITUFORCE is
all about. THAT was indeed, all along, the great Gene
Roddenberry
ROCK
THE ANDROID
equation!
It really from here can all be turned over to the great and
illustrious Mister
John Henningsen
of the Big Brothers Organization as it was called then before women
altered it to Big
Brothers
and Big
Sisters
Organization.
Yessir world, he would say it often to me, and it needs absolute
faithful reiteration whenever needed on these BOM (Blogs Of
Mountainpen). Yessir, “It's just that simple, Mark”. Well John
from the COLOR-RED
STATE (Colorado),
you were right then, and you'd be just as right up here in this
photon projection of the eternal now known as middle March of
twenty-twenty, for crying out loud, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me update everybody on several fronts and several items here on this
2020 great memory-filled SAINT
PATRICK DAY,
yo. First, there
really was an 'AD-6',
but he was someone who used to E-MAIL me back in the era of the
'YBCO' song days somewhere,
with good old Jon
BonJovi's Cuzz Tony,
and his employer and then-pal of mine to some degree, the great Ryan.
So I just decided to temporarily bring him around to the building as
a PHASE-4-Entity,
and the rest, you all know, and as promised, I will always come back
eventually, and level with any untrue thing that I may say, that was
done to get reactions or make amateur-scientific tests if you will. I
do believe that AD-6 is a globally traveling agent from one of our
great national black file agencies. I have no proof, but UI feel he
still is up there and reads my blogs, and that most of my Blogaudians
are indeed a part of this 'crew'. I also believe that several
powerful and extremely well globally known celebrities read my BOM.
As to anyone else, well, you see what happens. I tell peeps about
these blogs, those who seem to be very interested in my story, but
when the toilet paper hits the stink, or push reaches the shove to be
a bit more Tommy Roe 'polite' here; they never ever go up and read
me, such as the dude who helped me a little bit in my attempts to
rebuild my personal credit and rating score, after the great wicked
KING-CLAN of washcloths, wiped me out and murdered me' credit rating,
late in 2009. Hey, why peeps won't read me, I do not know. I only
know that there is a reality going on that is all connected to the
very situations and problems that these blogs have talked about in
great detail with no holds barred, for more than fifteen years now,
BRAH! Now what is me' word choice all about here some may be
wondering and scratching heads over, when I say, “I just decided to
temporarily bring him around to the building as a PHASE-4-Entity”.
So let me discuss this poo-poo-poo Dave Roth Warren Grove 1997 deal
here with this and things all related to this. No human being can
EVER truly make up anything, and only a top mathematician can
understand what I am going to now tell you here, peeps. Only if we
lived in a truly unlimited and finite cosmos, could we ever have a
TRUE POSSIBLE RANDOM, which is my argument that I have had with
humanity, silently for the most part, since the early middle
nineteen-eighties, concerning “direct communication with sub atomic
energies, and especially, THE ELECTRON”. Because there is no TRUE
POSSIBLE RANDOMNESS in cosmos, as a result of what I have termed and
labeled, FINITE PATTERNIZED RANDOMIZATION THEORY, or my FPR-THEORY;
all things tell stories, all dots connect, and all codes are part of
the seventh dimension of LAWTRONICS, a sort of programmed ruling
system set up in the absolute zero dimensional void truth of reality;
and controls the entire-ness of all things that then go on to
seemingly explode out into what we all now out here in human life,
call the BIG-BANG. When I created the PHASE-4-ENTITY of the AD-6
character coming to this building to see and talk to me from time to
time; I was not making up anything, because NOBODY
CAN TRULY MAKE UP ANYTHING.
This does not mean that I did not tell a “temporary falsehood”,
because I did, but it was a CONTROL-EXPERIMENT
the entire time. Because of that, and also because I will always come
clean eventually and correct the intentional-error; and thirdly since
I've openly admitted on this blog a decade or more ago, that indeed I
may be doing this from time to time; then there is nothing inherently
evil or intentionally misleading, to the point of fraudulent or
criminal behavior involved here. What I hoped might just happen, did
not happen, and I gave it every chance to happen, but alas, and
AGAIN, the great mighty fucking M2F won and I lost. Hey
people, so SOSO-WEIN-SSDD, and the 'D' can mean decade here rather
than DAY!
So hey Sir Chester-Frank, a great big shouted out
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, just for you, so please don't
knock me out of me' whittle elderly shoes now, ol' pal!!!!!!!
Another
thing here folks, is that somewhere around early Monday morning, or
two of the clock or so in the AM; a blinding brilliant searchlight
seemed to come right into my window. I came to learn within half an
hour or so that a wild and major incident was happening right here in
my wonderful lovely Public Housing Building. Good old PH, as in hand
skin stickiness and my weird medical condition that came on me so
suddenly at half past ten at night on the fourth of June in 1983, but
let me not divert from the point here. I did not find out until I was
watching the six of the clock evening local news, in-between all that
SARS stuff that has taken a death grip on us all; that here is what
occurred just past two in the morning or so yesterday. There was a
traffic stop just like we all see on great “COP” shows such as
COPS or LIVE-PD. It took place right around here on the highway just
forty yards or so east of this building, or if not right on Route 1,
then right near to it. As in those TV-SHOWS, this idiot made a run
for it, and he barricaded himself in our PH-Building. After the
blinding County Bird searchlight, came the whole county, huge SWAT
trucks like nothing I ever saw before even on the TV, police cars,
ambulances, police persons, bullhorns, and I heard them keep saying
to this character who was held up in the building, by the name of
George, to put down his gun. This nightmare went on until somewhere
either after nearly 9 AM or up to somewhere around 3 PM, as I could
not stay awake any longer after around half past eight, and I
crashed. When I got up at half past two or so yesterday afternoon, it
was finally all over, praise be the gods. This was a very scary night
for me, and yes Sir Microsoft Corporation and Spellchecker,
NIGHTMARES is quite an appropriate word here for me, so thanx, yo! On
the news, I learned that GEORGE finally SHOT HIMSELF, and that he is
is critical condition at the local hospital down the road from my PCP
doctor's office. Why peeps run from a traffic stop is beyond stupid,
but he did, and things turned ugly. Oh well, there by the grace of
Sarah-Stacey
Jehovah Krassle,
go I, yo!
Speaking
of dots all connecting, and no
such thing as TRUE RANDOM in the world;
maybe I shouldn't say what I am going to say now, but I'm gonna'. For
once in my life, I need to keep my big mouth SHUT;
huh wife of LAW
& ORDER
hubby's
girlfriend?
And what did hubby do but put a satchel of the SARS VIRUS, into the
trunk of a car? At the end of the show, when hubby said something to
the DA, his wife who he was cheating on with numerous women in this
fictional fantastic law show, told him off with that wild remark, and
quite damn emphatically. That was the part that I put in RED
PRINT
above. But what I am gonna'; pop off here about, is indeed the SARS
VIRUS or CORONAVIRUS by another name, and the current strain-19. You
see, the medical industry is every bit as crooked as the
entertainment industry. Their absolute GOD is nothing more than
MONEY. If they really did not go into this field for the money, then
electric-medicine, gene growth medicine, youthful blood transfusions,
and stem cell medicine would have all been allowed to exist, and the
REPUBLICANS and especially the all mighty BUSH FAMILY, who think they
are in some bizarre partnership with GOD ALMIGHTY, have stopped all
of these things. This virus could be KILLED AND STOPPED IN HOURS. So
could all disease, all aging, all of it.
And only Bernie understands the truth of these powerhouse things. And
I fully know that a real invisible set of BLINDERS have been placed
on millions of stupid ass people, many of whom I associate with in my
own miserable life, and this is going to lead to a billion little
people all dying when it can be prevented. No, I don't mean from the
SARS, but dying as we all do in such ridiculously short spans of
time, oh wise guru and HTHS educator, MISTER QUAY KAPUT. No peeps, I
never ever forget fucking SQUAT, and I never ever goddamn will, yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!! We were originally not designed for these
AFTER-BIBLICAL-FLOOD-TIMES to live these very short spans. We all
lived between 300 and 900 years, with the oldest recorded historical
figure of Sir Methuselah kicking the bucket supposedly at the rip
YOONG age of 969 years, leading to this change through the flood, and
you just go and ask any of these KNOW IT ALL REPUBLICAN CHRISTUIAN
PREACHERMAN PEEPS if I am making this shit up, or if the Mountainpen
does NAUT know his damn bible for crissake??????????????????
Multiwave Oscillating Integratron Medicine, AKA the FOUNTAIN OF
YOUTH, ALIXER'S, AMBROSIA'S, DOCTORS OF ALCHEMY, and the list is
extensive from many times and many locales around this Earth-Planet.
If we face MECCA (EAST), and take any magnet and hold it in our
hands, tiny subatomic particles on the left side of it are spinning
negatively to the left which is North, while tiny subatomic
particles on the right side of it are spinning positively to the
right which is South. The faster they spin and the more of them that
exist inside of the magnet, the stronger the Gauss Field of energy
is, or the stronger the magnet. The greater the GF is, the greater
the distance of connected-interaction there is between any two of
them held close to each other. But this same energy of these
subatomic worlds, that is all existing because in reality, on a level
so infinitesimal that no one could ever fathom; tiny precision
MACHINES are actually operating in ways a million times or more
complex than anything inside of any NASA operation or even supposedly
inside of any secret base hanger such as the once great A-51, or even
the WPAFB. But screw all that because this ain't me' pernt, sir
Archie BQ of the NON-DQ ADMIRALS AIRFIORCE CLUB of all great
musicians EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!! Me' pernt here is that magnets aren't
the only thing that these sub-atomic-realities are operating in and
throughout and in this exact manner of left and right spinning
velocities. ANYTHING AT ALL has this very same truth. So if we put
ring or bracelet on both of our ankles and both of our wrists for
example; the left side of ourselves that is spinning at unfathomable
velocities on this subatomic level is literally pulling us towards
the left, endlessly. The right side of ourselves that is also
spinning such as this, is literally pulling us towards the right,
endlessly. This is known in future times as well as in many
transdimensional locales in localized-5th
dimensional hyperspace, as VELOCITRONIC-BALANCE. This is maintained
in every cell in our bodies, in every atom of our planets and stars,
and you name it. The greatest weapon ever developed and that needs to
be absolutely controlled by the GODS, is known as VI
the mighty SIX,
or Velocitronic
Interruption
Technology.
The great GODDESS FASCITAR told me when I was dreaming it was 1997,
that SHE fixed it in our dream-down realities off of the
ASTRAL-PLANE, so that the 10 and the 6 in the instructions for
operating her great FASCITAR SPIRIT TRAVEL SYSTEM, is a part of this.
The ROMAN MATH symbol of the letters 'V' and 'I' means number 6 in
English numeration translation. Just look at any grandfather clock if
you doubt me, and see the bottom hour as VI. As for what the 10
number is connected into in the great Fascitar-instructions, that SHE
would not tell me, and I asked her too five times, and did not wish
to press my luck asking for a VI's time, if you get me' whittle Saint
Patty's Day Irish humor, and I ain't Irish, but lovely Patty HHH is
of course. So WEEEEEEEEEEE and yes MC Corporation, WEEDEEKAWUSS too,
yo yo yo yo yo BREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! Now how does ankle and wrist
bracelets fit into all of these things, you may wonder? 'Let's
explore this', at all special education schools, 'EVERYWHERE', shall
we?!!!!!!!!!!!!
Frequency
in electricity
is also “EVERYTHING”,
and I'm not teasing me' daughter here, but telling it very damn true
to all of you out here, yo!!!!!!!!!!! Still, neighbors who tell you
to do things one minute, and then chop off your fucking head the next
minute, for doing just that; talk about magnetic bi-polarization, and
medical conditions running in goddamn family lines for
CRISSAKE!!!!!!!!!!! Jesus Christ Almighty!But let me naut get too
much off on these silly ass tangents, Mizz AT&T BLAKE, mahm!
Passing powerful electrical currents throughout our bodies on
frequencies that are totally different than the ones used t power our
homes and factories with, and in controlled altering bursts of
precise frequencies, alters the genes/DNA of our cells. Ask any
goddamn microbiologist who is not a C- student. Still, the secret of
altering cellular structures in positive ways without causing bad
harmful shit, is all about realizing that there are decillions of
endless possible combinations of north left (negative) energy, that
can indeed repair and rejuvenate cells that have gone astray from
their perfect working order as a result of biological-age-time, or
BAT. First we invert the electrical energy in an MRI-TUNNEL, so that
the south right (positive) energy, is neutralized, as these will
cause cells to go on a rampage and endlessly reproduce copies at
speeds that will cause us what we call CANCER. Now that we use this
inverter system to filter out the currents that do this, we are left
with only a possible neutral to good harmonic oscillation system,
that 'randomly' would take thousands of years for the greatest
computers to figure out which ones work to restore each cell and each
gene to its state of biological perfection. Rather than give up, Tim
Barber showed me how to make this process speed up quite a bit. You
simply program a harmonizer so that all possible energies are at
every possible frequency and combination of frequency, and all at the
same time. Now, we have the endless or near endless group of all of
them, and the vast majority of them that do not repair or rejuvenate,
simply DO NOTHING. But the entire spectrum is struck now, so the
magic few notes of music so to speak, will be played in that mix. But
none of the destructive energies are heard because the inverter
knocks that side of the polarized system out from being played. So
within one hour or less of this treatment, every cell has been
restored to its PERFECT INTEGRITY, hence the name of that wild
machine in the desert, the Integratron. But even without that much
radical shit that might just disrupt the natural balance of human
life too much, we could at least use the great 20 kilo-hertz
frequency with the new age great batteries we all have now in our
I-Phone devices, etcetera. We all could be wearing bracelets that
send 20,000 hertz signals from one side of us to the other side of
us, completing the perfect sonic ark of cellular integrity. Tiny
peizio-electric mini-speakers and powerful mini-batteries, would all
be set in bracelets, one worn on the ankle and one worn on the wrist,
on BOTH SIDES; that endlessly putt out this nearly inaudible
frequency. No virus, no germ, no disease, CAN LIVE MORE THAN MINUTES,
WITHIN A MAGNETIC FIELD that would be generated around us should we
do this. This is real, and this WOULD ABSOLUTELY WORK!!!!!!!! This is
why the great Senator 'Feeltheburn' Sanders, hates Wall Street and
Pharmaceutical giants and all these HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE wealthy crooked
billionaires. They all know this can be done, but it would put them
out of business. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, BIG ASS BUTT and but
folks, the billionaires ARE DOING MANY OF THESE THINGS. All these
prick ass super wealthy gods called billionaires, many are doing
blood transfusions from people still in their youthful growth cycle
of stem signaling cells and other hidden things too. They want to
have all of this for themselves, and the fucking hell with all the
rest of us. THIS IS NOT ONE BIT GODDAMN FAIR, WORLD!!!!!! not one
more person needs to be hurt by that damn ass SARS VIRUS, not a one!
The
entire world is nuts, and they all think that I am. As in that
fantastic Henry Fonda movie that I think is one of the best ten
movies ever made, called “12
Angry Men”;
that one juror who is such as baseball fan in the show, SAID IT ALL.
He was saying how arguing with that other juror, whose part was
played by Mister Fonda, was “Like
talking into a dead phone”.
I know of no better way for me to say it. Watching the world and
watching the 2020 election year, and how this world or a lot of it,
doesn't like the great Bernie. All I can say is that after this is
all over, whoever we get unless it is the great Senator
Bernie
Sanders,
www.berniesanders.com/
please go there folks, he is beyond wonderful; but whoever we get,
MAY
the GODS HELLLLLLLLP US ALL!
END
TRANSMISSION.
4:02
POST
MERIDIAN
SUNDAY
AFTERNOON
15
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 15, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
GIBBOUS 6:6
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.
The
Huntington Curse
is both real and not taken one bit seriously, let alone believed by
anyone. I have to go through it for my family in this present
generation of humanity inside of the Astral-Plane GASME-GODS-GAMES,
and on top of that, I have to be laughed at and scorned, for knowing
beyond any doubt, that it is absolutely true and real. This curse
takes on different forms as it attacks each person in my family line,
who are forced to inherit it involuntarily. This works every bit as
monstrous as other DNA-family-related issues and items that pass
down; such as cancer, diabetes, hypertension, mental disorders, and
this list extends beyond those items, I'm quite sure. The difference
is that does not operate in the exact randomized way that those items
I have listed here do. With those, it is based on mathematical odds
in the world of ultra complex microbiology and medically related
complexities. Here, there is an actual intelligence right on the
physical plane of life, organizing who is next in line each time it
needs to be transferred. Also, the type of hellishness that this
curse brings its victims, alters in radical ways. The person in my
family lineage who I inherited from, died half a decade before I was
even born. Obviously, time is not some exact part of this situation
from hell either, as that skip in time where no one was under the
curse, seemingly was allowed by whoever is running this
SALVATION-GASME-GODS-GAME from the great unfathomable ASTRAL-PLANE,
AKA the PURGATORY, in the circles of the R.C. CH-UR-CH, and I
separate the word CHURCH here, for very obvious JRSS reasons, as it
most definitely appears to signal the words in this game as follows:
CHOSEN HUNTINGTON-YOU ARE-CHOSEN HUNTINGTON. Merely take the
in-between two words of (YOU ARE), and make it shorten to
pronounceable quicker letter-words, {U} {R}. Now examine the text of
an unmistakable error-proof James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome
(JRSS) here: Chosen
Huntington,
U
R
Chosen
Huntington.
You have to admit the very word of CHURCH,
at least according to the great NEW-AGE-FATHER Mister Redfield,does
LITERALLY speak for itself, yo peeps, yo!!!!!!!!!! You will all have
to forgive me for perhaps having a much lower level of tolerance for
coincidences in this human tangible material realm of 'waking'
physical life, than most if not all of you out here. Still, that old
argument between Misses 1969 Marola and myself seems to be rearing
its ugly head here, does it naut? She insisted that going with the
vast majority, HAS TO BE THE CORRECT THING TO DO. I did not agree
back at the age of fourteen, with that lovely woman and my educator
at the time,in the illustrious COOLEY HALL of HADDONFIELD,
NJUSAESMWG. Sorry if this offends anybody anywhere in this wonderful
and lovely world, butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
people; if
you get mad at me,
then
get mad at lovely fictional
ADA
Abbey Law & Order Carmichael,
as she said that exact quotation on the show about high tolerance for
coincidence, and I am not making up a single thing here, folks! So in
further examining this inconceivable reality, that Mountainpen's
Morianity has called the “HUNTINGTON
CURSE”,
and used to call the MASON CURSE as this term was invented by Cousin
Donald long ago when discussing our 'wonderful and wovewee family'.
It is not the Mason's, not by a most awesome long-shot, and IPYT, let
me qualify and elaborate somewhat here on what I refer to when I
state that this thing takes on varying forms of hellishness with each
new and different victim of it, with
me, Mountainpen, being the MOST RECENT VICTIM OF IT IN ALL OF THE
HISTORY OF HUMANITY HERE ON THIS EARTH-PLANET!
If anyone anywhere in the world thinks that I am getting some sick
joy out of doing this blog, and saying these things; then you are way
sicker and nuttier that I could ever be. Now the dude before me int
his wild Huntington lineage, was a man by the name of Arthur
Huntington, He owned a men's clothing store in the suburbs of the
city of Boston, Massachusetts, USA back in the nineteen-forties, and
was married to a Chicago lady whose maiden name was Mizz Alice
Gallagher. One day for absolutely no discernable reason, he took an
ax to my Aunt Alice in her sleep while she lay next to him in their
bed in a nice home there that he owned in Braintree, Massachusetts,
USA. After he brutally slaughtered his wife, he marched himself down
the hallway of their home and he entered the bedroom of his mother in
law, the mother of Aunt Alice, and he took that same ax to her skull.
After these two murders were completed, my Uncle (cousin actually),
marched himself down to the basement of the home where he proceeded
then to hang himself, and he died. To this day, a coverup surrounds
the true story, because my Huntington family is indeed a
'founding-fathers-America FAMILY, and we all know how things operate.
Not only MUFON PEEPS but any reasonable person knows about cover-ups
and why they are done. It is always about preventing TRUTHS, number
one. Then it is about PROTECTING POWERFUL PEOPLE, number two. If a
number three exists,my best guess would be this: A larger agenda
exists that actually is what causes not only the actual covering up
of facts, but also, allows for all of the necessary items to come
into play that puts the coverup into play from 'A' through 'Z'. I was
always told a fake phony story by my mom concerning the great
Massachusetts coverup of the family, that gas was left on and they
all died. In those days, no internet or social networking existed in
the wildest minds of anyone on this planet, or not to my knowledge
anyway, and in this dimension. So if a kid was told something by his
or her parents, THEN THAT'S THAT as Mister Esolph the great fable
writer would say! There was no Googling or networking with hundreds
of peeps in a far away town or any of that present day jazz where
everybody carries the entire universe in their little pockets now! To
quote my beach-pal Ziggy Malyeska from summer-time in 1969, “Hey,
that's the way it goes”. He was right then and nothing at all has
changed up here in the illusion of 2020, nearly fifty one years
later. So Arthur Huntington had this horrendous deal at the final day
of his life, yet to hear his neighbors and this I've been told, “He
was out in his yard and walkway, shoveling snow, and whistling like a
very happy man, just the day before he did all of this”. He
appeared to be doing well financially too with his men's clothing
store, either in town or in the close city of Boston. He seemed to be
happy in his marriage as well. Then, KABOOM. But my point here folks
is that the curse with me has taken on entirely different forms. I
have never ever had any normalcy at all in my pathetic damn life. I
have never known love, happiness,my own family, peace of mind, and on
top of that I have never made more than minimum wage or been able to
get any kind of a productive job, and believe me peeps of this world,
no one has tried to do all of these things more than me. The one time
that I finally seemed to beat this curse was during the year of 1986
with my playing Roulette in the Atlantic City casinos. THAT
TOO was STOPPED by whoever is behind this horrendous monstrous
fucking nightmare curse on this family,
and whoever is here on this planet PHYSICALLY, operating it and
organizing it, intergenerationally. It seems that Morianity has
created-invented ANOTHER NEW WORD. Hey it fits, so I am going to use
it, yo! On top of all of that and as if this wasn't enough of a
hellish nightmare pile of stench from Dogtown, I have had a lifetime
of being forced into poverty, being ripped off, robbed, assaulted,
victimized, forced to endlessly live right with horrible rotten
neighbors all around me who steal and do drugs and break the law, and
you would think that the local police people would at least give me a
little bit of respect for being true blue honest and clean, but do
they? No sir. They treat me like a kooky crackpot and won't ever help
me out at all with anything. Then the internet world after I started
blogging out my hellish nightmare woes and tales from HELL/DOGTOWN
since 2006; all call me a complaining, ranting, whining, crackpot
nut. Let me ask anyone out here, yo? If you object to my term of a
FAMILY CURSE being on me, then tell me, what would you classify all
of this absurd and surreal outlandish junk on steroids for my entire
65+ YEARS OF LIFE? Well, one little good piece of news here, folks.
Miss Fondaslime Sleazeweedsdisease Pukedrinker missed me by a
'mucousy' nose hair. I am on page 12 of 12 and was so busy typing out
this Huntington curse shit, that I completely forgot about monitor
screen sticky page blockers. HA-HA-HA, butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
I am still going to write in my goddamn fucking FIVE GROUPATIONS
HERE, and yes Microsoft Corporation, here and HEREdahelda!!!!!! Yes
it appears that I now have made up two brand new words since
beginning this damn blog, MUCOUSY, and yes, it fits what I am trying
t say, so IMHO there should be a word, only the English Language
system was too stupid to realize that when it was originated.
“SOOOOOOOOO”,
Arthur
Crane
of ANTINASS
sir; I will oblige, and make up this SECOND WORD TODAY,
yo BRAH!
I believe Sir Chester-Frank would now say should he be in here with
me, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!
Now
this curse with me WILL NAUT PERMIT me to make any money at all. Even
a minimum wage job brings my MILITUFORCE ENEMIES down on me like a
ton of bricks. You all know the horrific story of 1986, my Roulette
Casino playing, and my HARASSMENT nightmare all starting up, STORY,
so no need to rehash this with you now, peeps. But I will say this
much. Look st RECENT TIMES for a major mother fucking brand new
verification of these claims that I am making right here in the year
of 2020. Look at the TWO TIMES THAT I POSTED UP ON MY BLOGS, THE
'BOM' about MAKING MONEY WITH BLOGS, and how BOTH GODDAMN ASS TIMES,
I was literally 1986 re-persecuted again in ways that are beyond
unfathomable, bringing me insurmountable events that none of you
would be able to survive for three days with on top of all of my
other problems. The very same goddamn shit that was done to me in
1986 when I temporarily appeared to be breaking out of the HUNTINGTON
CURSE with my Roulette Casino playing in Atlantic City, happened tome
all over again, 34 years later up here in this photon projected
eternal now, in relation to my photon memory of 1986 here in eternal
now. $$$$$$$$$$$, or better said here peeps, the lack of it, and my
being ENDLESSLY OPPRESSED INTO THIS DEMONIC GODS-GAMES HELLISHNESS
NIGHTMARE ON QUINTESSENTIAL STEROIDS, is an ongoing womb to tomb shit
eating nightmare for poor old nobody rotten diseased little goddamn
me, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo, NO MATTER HOW HARD I EVER TRY WITH
ANYTHING, OR WHAT I HAVE EVER DONE, OR COULD EVER DO!!!!!!!
When
I talk about numerous Roulette systems, the enemies know that I'll
never set foot into their evil gaming houses ever again, so they
don't assault me as badly. They don't like me shouting out ways that
have the potential to lessen their greedy avaricious profits, but it
isn't the end of the world by their perceptions. But interfering with
the generational mother fuckign Huntington Curse, now that is another
entirely new ball of wax the size of ten planet Jupiter's, for crying
out loud. Oh no-sir, don't ever make the mistake of thinking that I
can do something that might just catapult me to a place where this
monster-ass
NON-HUBCAP-NICKED
UP MILITUFORCE
of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL,
simply won't be able to do anywhere as many horrendous things to me
with nabes and poverty situations in general and on and on and on and
on and on. That would be the QUINTESSENTIAL NO-NO; me' people!!!
NOT
WITHOUT SEVERE MAJOR PENALTY!
Yes
folks; a part of this HUNTINGTON
CURSE
is all about both keeping me down and oppressed and poverty stricken
endlessly, but it's also about PLAYING
SOME HUUUUUUUUGE GAME WITH ME
endlessly, where if I do anything that starts something with this
diseased mother fucking force of pure unadulterated DOGTOWN-EVIL;
they instantly turn right around and engage me with some brand new
sicko-game of theirs! This has been incredibly echoed in ways too
unbelievable to ever be told in any COURT OF LEGAL PRECEEDINGS, with
and throughout the entire ENTERTAINMENT
INDUSTRY,
and they have even used this ROYAL HUNTINGTON BLOODLINE to bring the
current GASME-GODS-GAMES to include my own goddamn daughter, whose
initials legally match the great counsel, that was even referred to,
and is right there in the GOSPELS OF THE BIBLE'S SCRIPTURES to this
very day, by the LORD JESUS THE MESSIAH (CHRIST), regarding NOT doing
or saying things that might generate wrath and anger from this mighty
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-34343434343434 GROUPATION of one million ASTRAL
ENTITIES, and the ULTIMATE POLITICAL SYSTEM OF ALL THINGS,
EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!
The
great Glassboro State College in New Jersey, and the neighboring area
where good old Mister Timothy Barber used to have a home, and where I
witnessed things in his basement that to this day are for the most
part unknown by the masses; will haunt my mind and memory until the
day my body turns to worms and maggots. But then that last sentence
was what this was all about, because his miniaturized version of a
multi-wave oscillation integratron was used to turn an ordinary house
fly into a being that not only never gets old, but seems to be
immortal and absolutely indestructible, and I swear to the gods that
I was in his basement, and saw many of these wild systems and
apparatuses that were scattered all over the place and not
particularly organized by any stretch of the imagination. Just last
night on that marvelous HISTORY-CHANNEL,
the same channel that also hosts that fantastic other television show
called PROJECT
BLUEBOOK,
had a brand new show on that discussed the INTEGRATRON
out in the Majabee
Desert.
I have misspelled the name of the desert, and I cannot get the
Microsoft Spellchecker to provide me with the accurate spelling. I am
sure that more computer savvy peeps out here can find out what I am
talking about here, and can then google up that American desert, and
then the word “integratron”. Our cells, and the magic of all of
them, is all inside of our blood. Blood is nothing but cells, and
some cells are stem-cells, and these cells communicate and transmit
information to all the others that surround them in all parts of the
human body. This is called in the world of medical science and stem
cell research, “signaling”. But that machine system that was in
Tim Barber's fucking basement, that I have talked about from time to
time on some of my blogs ever since their inception in January of the
year 2006; is the point I wish to quickly discuss here. The larger
machine in the desert, was 19/20 completed, or 95%. The man was
obviously murdered at the age of 68 years, and according to all the
peeps who have attempted to get to the bottom of this other Arthur
Huntington Basement story,
of all great Victoria
Winters Dark Shadows
other family
bibles,
deceptions, outright lies and general coverup's; the Federal Bureau
of Investigation or the FBI for shortened abbreviation; went to that
desert where he had a dwelling place there, and part of the machine
near its dome top, was somehow quickly confiscated, along with
numerous notes; just as they did with the great and illustrious
Mister Nicola Tesla, at his hotel in Manhattan, NYUSAESMWG; when they
stole all of his wild research and papers, regarding electrical
transmission by air, and other Goddess-Diana-related
private matters that he once had with him in his hotel room. Now
Mister Tim Barber who I used to know, and who was a pal of JIM BURR
from Gloucester City; showed me this wild “eternal-life machine as
he called it, only it was miniaturized, and only could immortalize
life forms weighing less than five pounds. A larger scale model was
what he told me he was working on, while I was over at his house
right next to the college in Glassboro, NJUSAESMWG, that day in early
middle 1985 somewhere. One day, Tim vanished forever, like a magical
morning mist on a hot early July morning. I
was told that he went out to California, but I am not sure what
REALLY ever happened to this dude, folks.
All these things are absolutely the fucking truth. He did, shortly
before my last time interacting with him in 1992; give me a wild
item. It was a regular housefly, at least to hear him tell it. Only
now, this huge black fly was the size of a Kennedy half dollar or
just larger. This fly is buried in some woods, just to the south of
the old Cifaloglio property, about thirty yards from the property and
about sixty yards in from the road. I did this about two months
before leaving that nightmare shituation that I was in with Ann and
Dawn King. I had a feeling that I would be needing to run away on a
moments notice, and that I would not dare take this with me in case I
was stopped and searched at some local traffic stop point, as I would
have no rational mortal world explanation to give to the police, and
I did not need the potential trouble when and if I was running away
from the TAWF
FAMILY OF WASHCLOTHS.
That all did come to pass of course, and a blind man with three canes
and five prayers could have seen it coming. But I can dig this thing
up and prove my claims are all real, any time. This fly is in
suspended animation in a large paint jar that is air tight with two
fitting lids. One lid contains breathing holes, and the other does
not. So if you replace the lid so that this thing can breath, it will
endlessly come back to life. I also have pounded it with my fist at
least ten times, placing it back into the jar, and it literally after
about five minutes or so, resumes back to normal an dis very much
alive again. Simply put, the thing won't fucking die. Speaking of
fucking death, it
is now 6:00 on the nose, and I am getting A MAJOR FUCKING LEFT SIDE
DEATH ANGEL ASSAULT, FROM SIR MORTIMER MORTINO.
Why won't he go bother the fucking Easter bunny and see if he has
blood cells on his door and maybe pass by and quit buzzing all the
time in his mother fucking ears, Jesus Christ Almighty for crying out
loud, oh world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE
END, AND SMELLING 'GOUUUD'!!!
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF 3:39 P.M., ON 13 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 THESE MOST RECENT 13 MARCH,
2020, WITH A MAJOR DEATH SIEGE AND ASSAULT FROM MY UNIT
#605 NEIGHBOR FROM HELL,
and that is all a part of DONALD TRUMP'S ICPE-APE-TECH death strike
on me, ever 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.
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,
CHAPTER
15
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
FRIDAY,
MARCH 13, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WANING
GIBBOUS 4:6
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.
[{(03-13-2020)}]
3:00
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
FRIDAY
MORNING
13
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
Friday
the 13th, what should I have expected for Crissake???
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
No
people; I have no intentions of trying to get the truth out on the
2020 Census. Obviously, between what happened with the
dude over at the Toronto Dominion bank, disappointing me the other
day, by not being at all interested in checking out my truths, and
was only concerned with lovely Merry; on top of the quite fucking
obvious truth that I am AGAIN as I was
before a decade ago, being back door cleverly threatened NOT TO,
by circumstances that are surrounding me. A chile can see it. If I am
in transit at this very time, then it is hard to be a part of the
census; and hopefully, I am not the only one here who is able to see
these endless MILITUFORCE TRICKS AND TRUTHS.
Now I'll update the Blogaudian-ship here with the results of this
ongoing day.
The
asshole next to me went downstairs, according to my nabe at the end
of the hall, Donnie; and he is complaining about all of the rest of
us. This is an old tactic done by CRIMINAL PEOPLE EVERYWHERE, and
every damn fucking D.A. knows this only too well. Still,
many times it works, and the guilty go free to endlessly
pursue their wickedness while us poor good and innocent victims
continue getting endlessly and royally screwed and shafted, forever
and ever. Welcome to life for so many of us UNFORTUNATES AND
THREE+TIME LOSERS OF THE EARTH-PLANET. I left my note in the area
where notes should go on the building's management office door, and
that is all I can do. I am willing to be fucking polygraphed
about my so-called horrible noises, women in here at three in the
non-Patty morning, and all of it, so let's see if Sir-605 dude
is ALSO WILLING TO BE POLLYWOGGED.
Oh boy, uncles Billy, is this going to be a bloody mess, Sir Adam
Schiff, maybe BOTH Adam Schiff's, in complete candor here, folks!
Here
is the updated information I got from talking to me' pal Sir Kevin,
downstairs, when I went to leave me' note in the office drop. He told
me that the 605 dude is merely holding somebody's damn loud CHI-DOG
for a while and that it is not his dog. He also informed me of some
other wild shit, and yes, I know Kev is absolutely trustworthy. He
said that my 605 slob next to me, who
was there before this current monster;
did not ever move away from here, and is on the 4th fucking floor
now, in a one bedroom unit. She wanted to get out of her studio type
of unit, the same type as my unit is. So she never moved. As for the
stupid peace sign, I guess they're both fans of peeps like sixties
hippie Marcucci and the rest of the English
Singers of the day, and many others. But he insists that
they are in no way related or even friends of each other. So yes, I
can be wrong, and I'll be the first fucker at the gates at all times,
to admit to it WHEN I AM WRONG. I think my loyal Morians all know
that part of me by now, huh Mister Islander
Joel, and without anybody getting any heart
attack-ack-ack-ack-ak's here, yo. No people, I know when I'm licked,
and when I need to make a tactical fucking retreat, endlessly
reminded of a wild and beyond totally surreal conversation at a
security guard gatehouse on Valentine's Day of 1988, with my pal
David Roth, and the great illustrious United States © Copyright
Office to this day, has the copyrighted cassette tape that I sent to
them with that conversation on it, on this following MUSIC PROJECT:
Public Catalog |
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You see people, you all have
a very high Abby Carmichael tolerance FOR COINCIDENCE, if you don't
see these powerhouse realities, and no sir, I do not need to write
any life journals, journals, or memoirs, because there can only be
the one explanation for any of it, and I have no intentions of ever
again asking anyone to RISK THEIR DAMN YELLOWSHEET PAPER JOBS, FOR
POOR LITTLE ROTTEN NOBODY ME. How come the authorities of the great
CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM are allowed to not believe in a lot of
seemingly randomized happenstance events, and then turn right around
and expect all the rest of us to do JUST DAMN THAT? To quote Cuzz-Don
here, and our 45th President;
“This is so unfair”!
Okay then, I have no
Soronson DNA to work with. I only know that I am a rare A-NEG blood
type, and that the thirty-eight week conception date:birth calendar
makes some good sense, and I know what lovely PHHH did to me and how
it even led to a very wild and world known rock and roll song, that
should have been called, “Under the Pier” if its title was more
truth-telling. Still, no I cannot prove a damn thing, but if you
think that I believe for one goddamn second that the resurfacing
repressed MEMORY-DREAM of 5 October of 2008 is not the clinching
proof of all of this for me, then I'll simply quit right now. Hey,
prove me wrong world, and Sir Clarence Harris. Remember people, he
tried hard, and so have some others in my past. They COULD
NAUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mouse mother fuckign hacking IS MAJOR AND HAS BEEN
FOR THIS ENTIRE DAY NOW. WHEN I AM UNDER ANY KIND OF ELECTROMAGNETIC
HACK OR AM HIT WITH A DEATH WEAPON FUCKING UP MY HEART AS WELL AS MY
SHITS; THIS IS WHEN I KNOW I HAVE GODDAMN FUCKING HAD IT, AND NO ONE
WILL HELP ME IN THIS HORRIBLE EVIL FUCKIGN
COUNTRY CALLED AMERICA!!!!!!!!
THIS
IS THE WORST DAY, WEEK, MONTH, YEAR,
DECADE, CENTURY, AND MILLENNIUM OF MY ENTIRE
LIFE; AND DREAMS
SEEM TO TAKE ME DIRECTLY INTO MATCHING SHIT RIGHT MOTHER FUCKING HERE
IN 'SO-CALLED-REALITY'. MY DAD'S
ELECTRIC RAZER-SHAVER FOREVER, I GUESS. WELL, I JUST HAD
THE POLICE OUT AGAIN, AFTER WAKING UP AT JUST A FEW
MINUTES PAST TWELVE NOON, TO MY HORRIBLE ROTTEN ENEMY #605 NABE
FROM HELL, BALARING HIS NOISE-MUSIC AND SUFWOOFERS AT
WALL-SHALIONG LEVELS; AND DEFYING ME, AND LYING TO EVERYONE,
SAYING I HAVE WOMEN IN HERE ALL NIGHT LONG, AND THAT LOUD NOISES ARE
COMING FROM MY APARTMENT ALL DAY AND NIGHT, WHEN I AM HERE ALL ALONE,
AND QUIETER THAN A MOTHER FUCKING GODDAMN CHURCH-MOUSE! I TOLD
THE TWO OFFICERS THAT THE HOUSING AUTHORITY WON'T TALK TO ME OR EVEN
LET ME MAKE AN APPOINTMENT WITH THEM SO THAT I COULD MAYBE BE ALLOWED
TO MOVE INTO A QUIETER PLACE FOR 65 AND OVER PEEPS LIKE ME.
THIS IS A NIGHTMARE STRIAHGT OUT OF THE GATES OF HELL, AND THIS
MISERABLE ROTTEN FUCKING STOCK MARKET, AND MY MISERABLE LOUSY
STINKING FAMILY, ARE IN A PLOT TO WIPE ME OUT, JUST AS
THEY WERE BACK IN NEW JERSEY AS WELL, 10 YEARS AGO!
It
is confirmed at least to me, that all of my suspicions regarding this
monster-man next door to me, is part of the same family and people of
the peeps who lived there before him. The very same peace logo
left on the door, the same never ending wall hammering, and now today
when the police came, I HEARD THE VERY
SAME LOUD YELPING CHI DOG BARKING IN THERE. When I say
that I know something is real and not imagined, I sure wish peeps
would quit telling me I am just fucking nuts. But in any event, when
I know I know something, ain't nobody ever gonna' cunt eating talk
me out of it, that much I'll tell you right here and right now, yo!
Why those pricks hate me and persecute me for no reason at all, who I
call the 605 CONSTRUCTION COMPANY,
is anyone's guess, but I think deep down and directly, that WE
ALL KNOW JUST EXACTLY WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE WITH ME!!!
My
grandmother on my maternal family side, always said that the
13-number was lucky for her, and never feared that horrible fucking
day of superstition known as FRIDAY THE 13th and even
thought that it was a lucky number for her. Well, goody goody for
her, and I am happier for her than a big fresh pale of fish from the
Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetties. For me, IT IS A DREADED MOTHER
FUCKING TOTAL NIGHTMARE ON STEROIDS however!!!
The
police told me that there isn't much that I can do except to move out
myself and find a cheap place somewhere, or complain the Housing
Office. Since Debbie left the local resident manager job to move
higher up in her career with the Fort Pierce Housing Authority, we
now have a lady named Angel, who thinks of me, at least IMHO as
nothing but a big complainer. I will get nowhere, but I am leaving
another sealed envelope with her name on it, telling what just
happened, at the outside office door, in an attached plastic bin on
the door, for notes such as mine to be left. The police told me the
incidents will keep being documented, and that I am always free to
keep calling, especially if it happens after ten at night, which he
indeed does do this up through past eleven many times. But only at
those hours can I actually file a complaint in court against this
man. These are the goddamn rules that we all live by, and to quote
me' pop again, “ho-hum, hells bells, and we can't fight city hall
and win”.
Don't
ask me why, but I just know certain things, after decades of this
MILITUFORCE BASED PERSECUTION AND ENDLESS
FUCKING HARASSMENT. I knew that that major mouse and computer
hack-attack of the Stacey-Lattisaw Club earlier this morning while
attempting to write Chapter #38 on this book-blog; that I would be in
for, to quote President Obama, “A real doozie-whopper” of a bad
day, and especially when also factoring in the date of FRIDAY THE
13th. As Ziggy said in 1969 quite often, applying to right
now better than ever before, at least IMHO; “That's the way it
goes”, for crying out fucking loud!
MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2020
I
also knew that the MilituFAWCES would need to powerfully strike me
back in exchange for my PHOTOBUCKET photo being back properly on the
blogs. I know how they operate and how their collective EVIL MINDS
FUCKING WORK, unfortunately. Again, I know what I know, and I've
never been one goddamn little bit shy of making that statement. This
is not said as a brag by any means. It is said in tears and horror!
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THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020
MARK
WAYNE
MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
ALSO
KNOWN AS (AKA) THE
'BOM'
1:17
POST
MERIDIAN
FRIDAY
NIGHT
13
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
The continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
If
you can hear me, Magnesonic, MMMMMMMMMMMMM, please wipe out these
ENEMY 605 PEOPLE. Thank you.
This
much I will say. I am now packing up my apartment, and am going to
leave this horrendous place we all call FLORIDA. I will probably not
survive this time as I did the last time I ran for my mother fucking
life. I was ten plus years younger and healthier then, and on top of
that, this goddamn fucking pandemic situation is now making any and
all travel and life in general, quite difficult for all of us, and
when shit is hard for the rest of you, then understand please, for
me it is hard times TEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
GRANDMA MOSES!
MIKE
MCNULTY; WHERE R-U?????
BLOG
STATS, “THE BOM” & MOUNTAINPEN
Mar
6,
2020 4:00 PM – Mar
13,
2020 3:00 PM
|
THE
END, AND SMELLING 'GOUUUD'!!!
AND
YES FOLKS, AND WHAAAABITS,
END TWANSMISSION.
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