JEWELLY
WHITE,
AND HER FOUR DREAM-POSSESSED
EARTHLY PERSONA'S
YOU
ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 4
May
21,
2020 1:00 AM – May
28,
2020 12:00 AM
|
MARK
WAYNE
MOUNTAINPEN
HUNTINGTON
MOHR
4:32
POST
MERIDIAN
THURSDAY
AFTEROON
28
MAY,
2020
FORT
PIERCE,
FLORIDA,
USA,
ESMWG
©
2006-2020 Blogs Of Mountainpen
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
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MY BLOGS:
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
THURSDAY,
MAY 28, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 6:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
As
of 3:13 PM, “TWC” Weather-Report is as follows for the town of
Fort Pierce, FL-USA:
TENMPERATURE-86
DEGREES FHNT
HEAT
INDEX-99
DEGREES FHNT
HUMIDITY-77%
DEWPOINT-78
DEGREES FHNT
BARAMETRIC
PRESSURE-30.04
MERC & FALL
SKY
CONDITIONS-NEARBY
LIGHTNING
WINDS-ESE
@ 18 MPH WITH NOT GUSTS
VISIBILITY-10
MILES
PREDICTIONS-90%
RAIN CHANCE, & 75% THUNDERSTORM CHANCE, AND HOT & STORMY
SCATTERED CONDITIONS THROUGH MONDAY, WITH PREDICTED LOW OF 75 DEGREES
FHNT ON THE DAY TODAY
The
DEATH
ANGEL
is off the scale and all over me and has been for months now, bad as
it was before this time, it is not even any comparison to that any
longer. Hey, why naut Miss Blake? After-all, yesterday, the
electrical number of this year's fifth month of Spanish SINKO; we all
found ourselves here in America CROSSING OVER the big five digit
MORTIMER
MORTINO
or DEATH count from the CORONA VIRUS GLOBAL PANDEMIC (CVGP) into the
horrendous fiendish nightmarish SIX DIGIT DEATH COUNT NOW IN AMERICA;
with more than mother fucking ONE-HUNDRED-THOUSAND-PEEPS!
Someone
or some thing, Captain Shatnerkirk has either been screwing with me
by way of hyperspace games and the ESS, or they have broken into my
apartment while I was asleep today before arising at just past noon
because I have found EXTRA PILLS in my 7-DAY medicine-container that
old sick fucks like me buy at drug-stores so that we don't fuck up
our daily dosages pills that our PCP physicians prescribe to us. I
absolutely know and remember taking my final PM-dosages before
crashing into fucking bed early this morning, after watching that
fantastic Ulysses 'SH' Grant documentary, on that marvelous super
terrific HISTORY CABLE-TV CHANNEL. I know what I know, lovely
PATTY-PAULA-PP!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTTERCHEESE
and yessir world, a great BIG ASS BUTT AND but;
Sir
Mike Soft Spellchecker-Hellwrecker,
I awoke to take my AM-dosages of meds, and found that the
final two pills that I take at night were still in the WEDNESDAY BOX
of the 7-DAY pill-container.
I am extremely careful, Regis
and Paula,
to check the container before retiring for the day to make absolutely
positive that it has been emptied, thus that I've taken all of the
prescribed-meds for each and every day, as prescribed by me'
PCP-DOCK,
Doctor JAR
as I call him in jest, since those are his initials. His name is
Doctor
James A. Roberts,
a
helluvanice dude,
and by the way folks, he insisted the other day while I was over at
his office for me; quarterly physical examination, “Mark, I was
never told about your problem where you had requested a health-note
from me due to a neighbor noise problem”. I totally believe him
because he is an extremely fine gentleman and would never lie to me
about something major and personal that is in regards to me' physical
health, yo yo yo!!! Now if I have been moved around during me' sleep,
in the 5th
dimensional hyperspace, then that is explanation 1, but explanation 2
would be that some mother fuckign dirtbag broke into my apartment and
walked into my kitchen since it is a mere yard or two from me'
outer-door, and did this to me, filling yesterday's box with pills
from me' bottles that are on the very same shelf in the kitchen
cabinet where me' meds are kept. Of course I know that no matter what
I say here, any legal authorities and most if naut all of you out
here will go with the only possible left explanation of 3, and that
bneing, no asshole MOUNTAINPEN, it is just wehtahd whittle dumb ass
you who somehow screwes shit all up and are blaming it as you always
do ON THE WORLD. Well, Mashell Daniels said it all back in 1980 at
the RPL Sound Studio in Camden, NJUSAESMWG, did she naut, Mizz Blake?
You can all believe what you wish, BUT I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, Paula and
Regis of late 2008 silly radio programs from Atlantic City,
NJUSAESMWG, on the great WAYV-FM RADIO of ATLANTIC CITY, NEW
JERSEY-USA!
Here's
something else that “I
KNOW WHAT I KNOW”
about secret coded mathematical truths, that lay well hidden inside
of the endless and mostly never revealed James
Redfield
Synchronicity
Syndrome.
The magical ASTRAL-PLANE digits of the 3rd
and the 4th
REALITIES of PHASES, since Astral Plane existence is the 2nd
one, and yet it is one the human realm or PHYSICAL-PLANE
of Phase-3, that ASTRAL-PLANE
ENTITIES
who attempt to break
the Lawtronic regulations
of not dreaming off of this Purgatory in ways that would prevent them
from being unstoppable by regular dreaming normal human beings, sort
of like SUPERMAN'S ENEMIES on the SUPERMAN-2 great movie from the
late nineteen-seventies. Very
few have ever managed to get past this ULTIMATE PERMISSION BARRIER OF
LAWTRONICS,
but a few have, such as the great and mighty, Sir
Donald John Trump,
defying all of our rules all of the time, and ENDLESSLY AND TOTALLY
GETTING AWAY WITH IT, FOREVER; and everyone out here knows that I am
SPEAKING 100%
ONLY ABSOLUTE TOTAL FUCKING TRUTHS CONCERNING THIS MATTER
HERE!!!!!!!!!!!
But following up to the end regarding the numbers 3 and 4 here;
ASTRAL ENTITIES or 'P-2-E' Phase-2-Entities, when they do not
successfully reach here as little clay babies to dream through as a
lifetime or dreaming-interaction, are transformed through the
LAWTRONIC SYSTEM, into PHASE-4-ENTITIES rather than PHASE-3-ENTITIES,
such as all of us normal human beings, A-negative blood and
green-hazel eyes, such as mine, all notwithstanding here. The point I
am now making here is this: When we fall off of the ASTRAL-PLANE,
most of us become regular normal average PHASE-3, but those breaking
the regs become PHASE-4. Phase-4 means one simple thing. Rather than
live physically as one of us here, we are now turned into the
fantasy's and the imaginings of the great fictional writers,
daydreamers, and all of these type of things, all the way down the
very long A-Z list of possibilities! So the Phasing of either 3 or 4
from the ASTRAL-2 is WHY these wild numbers even here on the mortal
realm or Physical-Plane of human life, is so incredible; and allows
so many things therefore, to become crystal clear decoding's of
otherwise completely and endlessly undetectable items in all of our
human lives, that is for those few who truly understand all the shit
behind all of these powerfully guarded eternal secrets being told on
this blog to all of you right here and now! Sir Dennis Snyder would
say it so perfectly right here and now, should he in fact be here
while I am penning these words to you all, “And that's just
reality, son”!!!!!!!! The '3' and the '4'. Hey, just for openers,
let's do this simple quick little trick for a great big, buhh-dum-dum
drum roll as the curtain either opens or closes my lovely Cooley-Hall
Amy's future shows about a decade after the school trip that day into
Manhattan. There
are but two functions in mathematical functions, adding things up
into sums, or else multiplying things together into products.
Still, differences and quotients are also there, in the great science
of mathematics and its so-called accepted '4' functions. I however
see the reality slightly differently. Really there are but two, since
the differences that show up in a subtraction as well as the
quotients that show up in a division, are merely the mathematical
inverse of the straight directional function, or put very simply
peeps; we have the two functions of addition and multiplication, and
yes, we have their inverted truths as well, as subtraction is just
the inverse of addition and division is just the inverse of
multiplication. So our TWO FUNCTIONS in mathematical operations are
ADDITION AND MULTIPLICATION, and when we use them on two digits, you
know, adding up two digits or multiplying two digits, say for example
digit 5 and digit 8, we would get 13 when adding and we would get 40
when multiplying. But what happens right off the fucking bat when we
take those magical astral digits of '3' and '4', and we add them and
multiply them? Well, 3+4=7, and 3X4=12. We now get by simply applying
the TWO MATH FUNCTIONS, a 7 and a 12, from the great {3} {4}. Now the
ASTRAL-PLANE or the PHASE-2, tells us in the JRSS-decoding system, or
it should if you';re half way enlightened to pure truth yo; that we
do this math-function thing TWO TIMES, as in PHASE 2. So we now have
a '7' and a '12'. So adding and multiplying again for the second time
does this: 7+12=19, and 7X12=84.
Right away; who cannot spot the magical year here of 1984,
besides the great and mighty billing and sales departments, of the
mighty ENTERTAINMENT-WORLD
of BROADCASTERS;
the
great one and only, with or without any WINDING
TWISTY ROUTE-9 ROADS, OR MAGICAL 3-WITCH LADIES OF NIGHTMARES;
COMCAST CABLE
COMPANY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But there is more to this story of course. Even at the first PHASE of
this, where
we only use the MATH-FUNCTION 'upping',
if I can quote the LATENGRATE DOCTOR
CARL SAGAN
HERE ONE
TIME,
we get the '7' and the '12', as in BOTH OF THE CALENDRICAL DATES THAT
FOREVER
ALTERED MY ENTIRE LIFE,
YET PERTAINED TO THE VERY SAME ALL
MIGHTY MAGICAL SUPER GODDESS,
SARAH
KRASSLE
BOTH TIMES, AND YES, IN
ALMOST PERFECT INVERTED YEAR NUMBERS
THAT
WOULD BE 1969 AND 1996;
and I speak of the dates of July
12, in 1970,
and then December
7, in 1996.
Changing those two dates to the digital way of writing them based on
the month number and then the day number, July
12 is 7-12,
and December
7 is 12-7.
Now between all of this, and I know there is a ton of other shit as
well; but just with this, and using the JRSS in mathematical and
numerological decoding; we see that indeed, the phasing of entities
down in numeration from the void infinity of PHASE-1, does indeed
speak endless fucking volumes of epitomized truth in all of these
unfathomable items of MORIANITY, spoken of in many ways over and over
again, for a decade and a half on the internet, and before that in
the middle nineteen-nineties, of
the original Morianity
Bible
on CASSETTE TAPE!!!!!!!
Hey Mizz
Margie 1985 Leo
yo, wanna' cut me a damn bwake here, lovely girlfriend and GIRL, Sir
Microsucks Corporation, BRRRRRR?
Yessir
world, the southwestern USA desert area towns and cities are almost
on fire with the summer time heat, so I 'cannaut' complain all that
much here in Florida; lovely Mizz AT&T Blake. I call areas such
as these, during the hotter months of hellish sweat
and misery, by
the word of “SWEC”
and it is very pronounceable toothpaste TOO, huh Sir Mike Sucks? Hey,
it almost sounds like the word 'sweat', but it has a truer meaning
since the initials of the word stand for, SIDE
WALK
EGG
COOKING,
and I know that we all know what that is all about during periods of
long extended torrid summer miseries, in a world of ever rising
temperatures. Of course the climate deniers are clueless to the real
truths, since these types of short term large spiking of temperatures
have absolutely little or hardly anything to do with Global Warming.
I used to be just as stupid about it when I would be stuck in an
endless icy cold winter up north and scoff at the global warming
junk. No more. It
only takes 3-7
degrees of overall
global average alteration in higher temps, to completely wipe out
dozens if not hundreds of super important life-cycles, that when all
is said and done; all completes one huge circle that will totally and
completely end life as we all know it today.
It
does not take a 40 or 60 degree gigantic temp change;
and that is what I always believed as a young person; until I
wised up, and really began to study the situation.
I even remembered how short term things have indeed forever changed.
When I had first moved into Westmont, NJUSAESMWG as a nine and a
three quarter year old boy, all of the leaves in the area, and
especially in the large town next to me, Haddonfield, NJ-USA, had a
pattern year after year where the leaves began to change into lovely
foliage colorings and even began dropping off, and I am talking the
middle of August when this would begin and by three weeks later when
I was in school around just past Labor Day in early September, half
the leaves were gone, and I remember how HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE pile
of leaves were gathered up all over the entire area on streets along
Park Avenue, and they were burned, as the practice was done that way
back before the larger pollution concerns began to become more
recognized by the overall society. After I was fully grown in my late
teens, and this was only half a dozen or so years later on, the leaf
changing autumn patterns had totally altered. Year after year as I
was early into puberty and continued through my teen years in age,
the leaves dropped off later abnd later, and it never cycled back.
Unless an early frost or windy ice storm out of season happened, a
good majority of the leaves began to still be on most of the trees
even as the month of November came to roll around. The year of
exception was late September or early October in 1972 when the area
had an out of season early morning windy ice storm that removed all
of the leaves that year. But other than for that an entirely new
cycle had begun, and this was because of only a very small globally
averaged increase in Fahrenheit Temperatures, BUTTERCHEESE,
and I mean
BIG
ASS BUTT
but
here folks, the currents in the oceans also were altering and making
the news. The one thing that I'm speaking of is the great gulf Stream
which actually had moved. This is a current like a large river that
is running right inside of large oceans. When this had moved, the
temperatures and conditions resulting from it, although not really
that recognizable other than for a couple of extra long and weird
three Indian Summer's, in the autumns of 1969 through 1971 in
tri-state area, did in fact begin a slow and gradual deviation from
long standing averaged global norms. That is simple truth, and Al
Gore has no more to mother fucking do with it than his nonsensical
crap that I used to hear in the middle nineteen-nineties that HE
INVENTED the goddamn INTERNET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How all this fuckign
shit gets going is anybody's mother fucking “BEST 'GUEST' GUESS”,
YO lovely
ALMIGHTY
SARAH
NEECY
JEVOVAH
KRASSLE,
PINK
GODDESS!!!!!!!!!
Energy has no gender, folks and folksingers toothpaste TOO, Mike
Sucks!!!!!!!!!!! NO GENDER AT ALL. Still, we live here physically
since our true essence from the Purg has been divided by light speed
squared and we're now dreaming into these fleshy-human
'lifetimes'!!!!!!!!!!
Hardly
anybody in my state of Florida is satisfied with the situation
concerning their lost jobs and inability to get their rightful
unemployment benefits.
I hear them all crying on local news soundbites on almost a fucking
cunt daily basis,and it sickens my stomach to the point of
absolute-HURL!
The
big boys ALWAYS GET THEIRS THOUGH, RIGHT?
If not, then
there is no way the markets would be doing what they are doing
when the entire vast
majority of peeps everywhere are suffering at 1930-DEPRESSION-LEVELS.
It
is called STOCK (BUY-BACKS),
and I know
fully well that the huge monies that the big boys all got out of this
global and national disaster, was 95% or more just funneled right
back into BUY-BACKS, and other wealthy greedy CRIMINAL actions.
This goes way beyond just the old days and old adage of the rich get
richer and the poor get poorer. This is MASTER AND SLAVE, all over
again, and if left unchecked, within twenty years, and IPYT people,
we who have a TNW (total net worth) of under half a million USD
(bucks), are going to become total and absolute slaves of our wealthy
billionaire masters. No longer will skin color be an issue, and that
TOO, I promise you all, and hey, mark my words, as am I not just
about right ALL OF THE MOTER FUCKING TIME, YO?????????? America was
sold out and Reagan and his Reaganomics were 90+% responsible for it
all going this way. The antitrust laws are useless and worthless and
the
CORPORATION is now an entity that has absolutely no loyalty to
country,
America or otherwise, and all they want is ABSOLUTE
GLOBAL DOMINATION,
and a mother fucking tiny retarded child is capable of seeing these
great truths, so why then don't they, or anyone else either? Well,
this brings us all right back into the subject of MIND-CONTROL, the
total manipulation and domination and influence and control over not
only our lives, but our VERY MINDS, and this one advertising scum
system that exists now is one huge evil and demonic part of the
entire thing! Even the benign seeming things are alla part of this
miserable rotten fucking bullshit. I am literally wearing out the
batteries on my TV-Remote Control changing stations back and forth to
get rid of this monster sicko junk that comes on all over the place,
even things that if you don't understand it, I am telling you, it is
all a propaganda of sick whacked out control freaks who want to
OWNOUR MINDS, 100 mother fuckign percent, AND I WILL NOT CAVE FOR
THESE PRICK EATING SHITS!!!!!! Even that new stupid total garbage
song, “BETTER DAYS” with that horrible overly catchy junky tune
and fake trashy message that things are great or will be when the
entire world is nothing but one HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE
TOTAL FUCKIGN PILE OF D-O-G-T-O-W-N CUBED-CUBAN ABND RESQUARED
AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
two new racial incidents with blacks
being killed by white-power hater scum like Mark
Dirtball Zimmerman,
who started the entire thing back in 2012 when he shot and murdered
poor little Mister teen Treyvon Martin; and
I know it would just erupt from there,
because I am very sensitive to sociological changing world systems.
That stupid ass song makes me SICK TO MY GUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I would
rather be fucking tortured and die horribly in a canyon fire
somewhere than listen to that rotten stupid thing ONE MORE TIME.
There NEVER will be better days again, NEVER, and we are ALL
ABOUT TO BECOME THE SLAVES OF THE NEW MASTERS OF CENTURY-21, THE
BILLIONAIRES,
and why? Because NO
ONE CHOSE TO LISTEN TO THE PROPHET WHO TRIED TO STOP IT ALL FROM
COMING,
MARK
MOUNTAINPEN MOHR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That's fucking cunt YYYYYYYYYYYYY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
did not forget the other day, to get into the 'faked speaks' of
myself, at Robin Hill, at Cifaloglio, and other places and times. It
will be delved into because it is so beyond major that no words can
ever hope to give it real true justice. The main three times that I
ran the 'fake
out experiments',
to see what the MILITUFORCE
would do if they actually believed that something they heard me say
in my bugged up car or home or whatever, was really true and real,
and may even endanger them, or something pertaining to them, in some
small or large way; is the poison cigarette experiment of fake-speak
at 506 Robin Hill in the springtime of 1984 right after Trump pulled
his Jerry Hammonton Texaco deal and fucked up my automobile forever
when all I wanted to do was to come to gamble in his brand newly
built Atlantic
City Trump Plaza Hotel-Casino.
Then there was the most recent time at my Cifaloglio job in the
summer time in 2009 while I was under my Stockholm Kidnapping
hellishness with the great King Washcloth Clan from DOGTOWN, leading
to Trump nearly losing it when he flew at supersonic speeds on his
private Trump-Helicopter from Manhattan to Atlantic City to see what
Leticia and I would do and if we really would go over to the Harrah's
place to END THE WORLD. There was also the PLAYBOY BUNNY incident in
late 1981 somewhere, where I had a secret arrangement with my mother
and we faked a conversation where suddenly I was telling her that my
friend Jim Burr was planning to move into the apartment below us in
UNIT #1801, and was going to come to the rental-office on Monday, as
it was Saturday when I did this, and that he wanted to move right in.
I was absolutely convinced that because it had been vacant for more
than three months, it was being used as a surveillance place to
observe my movements and listen in. Right after doing this, I went to
my job as a guard in Camden at McAndrews & Forbes, and when I
came back again, a light was on im the bedroom, and one of the two
maintenance men and a friend of the Playboy Bunny, was in there
moving furniture around, David, not Dennis, and then that horrible
nightmare evil girl moved in on that very next night, Sunday night.
Jim Burr had no intentions of ever moving in there, and was not even
aware that I was faking this incident with my mom so that enemies
would hear me and react to it, AND THEY OF COURSE DID JUST THAT! But
another FAKE-SPEAK for sake of WOMO-MILITUFORCE ENEMIES to hear, was
also done around the same time as the fake talk with my mom about Jim
moving im, and was done a few months after the bunny slut did move
in. I have tried and tried to pull up the exact time, but I have been
blocked out due to hyperspace-action. You can call it a senior
moment
or early Alzheimer
Disease
if you want, but
I know better.
I did this about four times, and again, it could have been three or
five times, and this too has been grayed out inside of my usual and
more normal completely great and perfect memory recall of my past. I
faked that I had built a small nuclear reactor, and was making
setting alterations, moving small and totally benign little objects
around that were atop of my clothes dresser in my apartment bedroom
at 1802 Robin Hill, and no, not Robinnette Microsucks, as you must be
confusing my first stay at 1802 with my 3rd
and final stay there, where I met ADA Ron Wirtz Senior at the CCPO on
5
December of 1989,
just a week and a day before lovely
Taylor Swift
was born, but still Lenny sir, leading to the greatest law show ever
on television, at least IMHO of course peeps, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! An
illegal super loud motorcycle just went by my apartment here as I
typed out the previous sentence at 7:09 PM!
WOW 2 THAT! Exactly why I did this thing with the faked reactor had
to do with very complicated shit with the enemies and in those times,
I knew something was out there and yes, fucking with me; and Jim and
I were calling it my
family curse back then,
or actually, Jim's favorite expression was that I
was the victim of extremely heavy Satanic oppression due to some wild
whatever-thing back somewhere in my family,
and that is either a perfect quote or a damn near one!!!!
Now
the fake-speaks were one thing, but the absolute hugest thing in my
opinion anyway, that happened to me as a direct result of faking
something that I truly and totally believed was being listened by
WHATEVER-WHOEVER enemy of mine, and that being, the FAKE
NUKE REACTOR,
built and being tested in my apartment. As stated, I had no such
thing, but it put the fear of the gods into something or somebody, a
because after this happened over a one or two week period, the
PLAYBOY
BUNNY
began throwing super wild parties, every single week, with the
entire Atlantic City mafia, and Playboy Elsinore hotel Casino, and a
dozen huge limousines would all park all over the place, every single
weekend and it lasted all weekend long.
Right before it all happened, I will admit saying to my mother that
when I told you Jim
Burr
was coming to the office to try and live in the place below us, I
also said in my FAKE-SPEAK that I was planning to call the FBI, and
demand to know if I am under surveillance. Hey I was a kid of 26 or
27 or whatever, so what did I know about life? As if I could demand a
damn fucking thing to the FBI for crissake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But between
al of these things, and I'll never know what all of it was about, but
I do know that the fake nuke reactor and pretending to be in trouble
for not being able to lower the core temperature of a rod, did in
fact cause me some serious lifelong pain. Exactly why I did the fake
out of having this small reactor is way too lengthy to even start
exploring on this blog today, but I promise, I'll be getting into it
all, as nothing about any of this is small and therefore, I need to
see just what may tie into this or that here and there, as I do in
fact proceed along, in telling huge new powerful things about Astral
Viqueen PHASE 2 & 4 character and 'TPB-book' of 1994 major
character, Mizz
Julia-Jewelly WHITE!!!
The entire US © COPYRIGHT OFFICE knows that JIM PRATT the character
of my “TPB” 1994 book, is actually, Jim Burr, and the reason they
have to know it is the same reason that anyone who ever goes there to
do a search on any and all of this, will also know it. I sent them a
taped copy on Halloween Day of 1994 of my master file of the book
that I dictated on cassette tapes, a total of '24' C-90 tapes. When I
went to listen to my book one day a year later or so, I realized that
one time in the dictation, I said, purely accidentally, OR DID I in
the magical STM of the JRSS quantum reality of lip-slips, “JIM
BURR”
rather than “JIM
PRATT”,
and I never corrected it. Just as I once said the name “SARAH
KRASSLE”
on that same book, and there is a record of that too of course, as a
result. I may have said and think I did in fact, SARAH
KRASSE
rather than Krassle,
as this is another complex issue pertaining to a wild psychic
experience that I had shortly following the chain-steal dream and
Russ
Thaxton
burning
my Book of the Beach,
early
in 1970,
and yes, it involves what else but TELEVISION
ADVERTISING.
It was a commercial
for eyeglasses,
and I know the story has been told a couple of times on my blogs,
back
in early days of them from NO
JOYSEY.
For now there is simply is no need for me to reiterate it alligators
and it ALL, MIKE
SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A strange and bizarre weird hack just happened, while I attempted to
make those exclamation marks as shown above, at 7:29 PM. WOW
2 THAT, lovely BIG-O!!!!!!!!!!!!
In any case people, my
1983
outlandish and mysterious medical
condition
that came on me suddenly at
precisely half past ten at night
on my exact 28 and one half year semi-birthday of 4
June;
is all absolutely
and totally connected with VIQUEEN JEWELLY WHITE
and all things about her, pertaining to her, and surrounding both her
and the WASHCLOTH
CLAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
know this as sure as I know that day becomes night and night becomes
day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And yo, I'll tell you all another thing with that
same fucking amount of quintessential sureness. Patty and Merry are
as rapped up in all of this as five million Christmas presents all
combined, and with or without one of lovely mizz Hollister's close
friends from the nineteen-seventies from
WAY up north!!!!!!!
So HO HO HO HO HO HO AND HA HA HA HA AND AHA-AHA-AHA AHA, MCNULTY
SIR!!!!!!!
Jewelly
White
is all throughout endless zillions of deals everywhere. I seriously
doubt that on my
great and ultra talented daughter's DVD 2009 project,
that incident in the LISA-DYFIS office, 'TEE
HEE HEE',
was any coincidence at all. You know, with the 'WHITE,
WEISS' deal.
But hey, if
you can live with endless thousands of coincidences people out here,
and keep believing that I am not for real, unlike
the book burners
of the world, or maybe one of them, who claims on the 'WFMU' PAGE
that I
AM FOR REAL/E,
well then, as Mashell Daniels said so well back in 1980; right
peeps??? Who needs to hear the same old shit again, yo BRRRRR???
Jewelly White runs through it all, and you all ain't
heard one percent yet of mother fucking Al Jolson's marvbelous and
endlessly GREAT SONG,
IPYT, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is so much more to come that it
would take up five hundred entire Britannica Encyclopedia's. So I
have to slowly and carefully keep figuring out the best ways to tell
it all yet compress it to where someone just may listen to a mother
fucking word or ten of it all. Oh
FUCK YOUR GODDAMN 'ALLIgators', 'MICrosucks' 'CORPoration'!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
No
kind person; my blogs have very little to do with money, and a whole
dog-gone lot to do with being eternally oppressed and persecuted. And
this is why it is called the “EPITOME OF
HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION”, as I used to have a
version of similar type stuff back in the 1990's, on cassette tapes,
and now, the great United States © Office has a small little opening
part to it on one of me' late 1996 Musical Projects sent down to them
from my House Of Horrors in Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG! Wanna' make lots
of money do you. First, keep track of me and SELL SHORT as much stock
as you can when you find out that Mark Wayne Mohr has permanently
expired. Also read me' blogs and every time that I tell you the STOCK
MARKET will fly to the sky, BUY the damn DOW INDEX, and if you
do those two things, you will be the next multimillionaire, or
possibly even the next billionaire for Crissake! So WOW THAT, lovely
Mizz Winfrey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION!
JEWELLY
WHITE
AND HER FOUR POSSESSED EARTHLY PERSONA'S
MARK
WAYNE
MOUNTAINPEN
HUNTINGTON
MOHR
6:31
POST
MERIDIAN
WEDNESDAY
EVENING
27-'ELECTRICAL'
MAY,
2020
FORT
PIERCE,
FLORIDA,
USA,
ESMWG
©
2006-2020 Blogs Of Mountainpen
YOU
ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 3
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
THIS
BLOGGER WILL REMOVE ANY © MATERIAL UPON
REQUEST.
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR URL 2006-2020
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RIGHTS RESERVED ®
NEW
JERSEY BLOGS, On Blogger since January 2006
FLORIDA
BLOGS, On Blogger since December 2011
AS
OF EARLY 2019, Profile views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
MY BLOGS:
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
THE
MAY MONTH, AND ON HER LIGHTNING NUMBER TO BOOT!
WEDNESDAY,
MAY 27, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 5:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
I
was awakened at shortly past ten of the clock this morning by that
asshole next to me in unit #605, Mister Mexico, and his endless
series of very loud annoying noise-sounds. His incessant dragging of
some type of heavy furniture onto the rug-less floors that come with
these apartments, seems to be the very same shit that the previous
enemy-tenant in that unit also did. I absolutely know that a
conspiracy between the Public Housing Authority of Fort Pierce and
also in Queens, NYUSAESMWG, along with the two scum-balls in that
unit ever since Sir Stanley left in early 2014 somewhere; is real and
exists, to make my life a living Dogtown in here. No matter what my
pal Kev says about them not all connected up in some way, I know
better, and he is just being fooled as I doubt that he would ever
intentionally try and mislead me, yo. This asshole Mister-Mex has the
very same CHI-DOG mutt in there that the prior fat swine-bag had, and
also, he never has removed that stupid 'Marcucci'
peace logo on the door, that was put there by the slob
lady before he came in. Why would anyone want to keep another
person's silly ass logo on their door, as I know that the first thing
that I would do if it was me, would be to remove that nonsensical
asshole thing. Only he has naut chosen to do that, and it will
obviously remain up there until I move the Dogtown out of here
myself, after the CV-GP
allows!
WEATHER
REPORT AS OF 1:35 PM
WEDNESDAY,
MAY 27, 2020
TAKEN
OFF OF (THE WEATHER CHANNEL):
TEMPERATURE:---91
&@ PREDICTED HIGH
HEAT
INDEX:------103 FAHRENHEIT
SKIES:-------------PARTLY
CLOUDY
HUMIDITY:--------------------------62%
WINDS:------------SSE
@ 10 MPH, NO GUSTS
PREDICTIONS:----50%
CHC OF RAIN & THST
The
storm that rolls in soon drops temps into the low 80's!
I
randomly scrolled down on my OPEN-OFFICE
FILES late last night and copied in an early August of
2006 blog entry from back at Jenny Plageman's lovely awesome trailer
park days, of life in Mullica Township, just a mile or so east of
Bluecran-Berryville-Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG.
When taken with the blog just posted, I find it beyond wild that
anyone won't experiment with this quantum reality deal as do I with
the things of their own fucking damn lives, and see for themselves
just how Marcucci-Thaxton MIND BLOWING these truths really are, IN
ALL OF OUR GODDAMN LIVES. BUTTERCHEESE and BIG ASS BUTT BUT, they
won't!!!!!!!!!!!!! This quantum reality, that even the greatest mind
known so far to human beings, Sir ALBERT EINSTEIN, and pal of me'
dad's as well; was first observed and recognized by this mental
giant. He called what I will be getting much further into on this
brand new NON-KEY 'JW' and her 4-DREAM CONTROLLED PERSONS, “Spooky
fawces”! HIS WORDS, not mine, well, other than for the small degree
of humor on Mountainpen's part when I altered the word of forces to
FAWCES, as per the great dude at the Jefferson Street Licorice Plant,
somewhere in or around 1990; Sir Security
Officer HALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, it is these SPOOKY
ASS FAWCES that indeed cause this endless 'connectiveness' and or
'whatever' Sir Congressman and semi-musical pal of mine from 1975, to
indeed be what it is and keep occurring, even to the point of being
something that any and all of us can indeed summon at will, as did I
last night when I CAPPED in the results, which now I am doing on this
following day.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Chapter 47 The Cooking Channel Comes to Morianity
Did U know that U
can have 2 batches of a stew cooking side by side on your stove, and
if U add one ingredient to one, in order to maintain the exact taste
in the other stew, U must now add the exact amount of the exact
ingredient U just put into pot A. Even if 1000 complex ingredients
in all sorts of pinch amounts are part of the recipe, add salt to pot
A at the very end, but not to pot B, and the 2
stews will taste differently, all it took, was one small
change, in an otherwise precise A/B mix so to speak. So
how the H.E. Double Hockey sticks does that fit into the subject and
wild and weird complexities of the Morianity Bible?
Frighteningly monstrously simple friends and fiends. Our lovely
nation is in the precise total duplication of the Roman Empire, all
things basically that were going down with them, leading to their
eventual fall and doom, are all going down with us here in the good
old US of A, that is for one thing they had that we do not have. They
had what we here and now refer to as Paganism's religious belief
systems, verses our beliefs in {one God}. Should what I totally know
to be true, regarding the fact that our so-called one God, Jehovah of
the bible, ever B exposed for being less than the truth to what is
really going on with and around us homosapiens, boom ding-dong crash
zap pow, and Adam West Batman: we would then B doomed, and the salt
would B added to the stew, the final ingredient of this scary mix,
and then it's good-by to all of this.
The enemy gave me a nightmare weekend, a nightmare week, made July of oh six, the most horrific 31 day period in 51 and 2/3 years of my human 'Mountainpen' life, as I know it in this physicality. U may wonder why I look younger than my years, yet am going through more stress than a US President during wartime and depression combined. And yes, that is not me long ago, just a year or so ago, when I went to a 'Kinky's' to get my photo taken for a computer J-Picture Element Graphic, so I could use it on blogs or dating clubs, or wherever. My eye doctor a few years back said to me, "so tell me, how do U manage to look so ridiculously young?" I told him, a Dr. Reda, of Delran, NJ, what I now will tell to this Blogianity: Whatever I hate and do not want, is attracted into my proximity, and whatever I love or like, and do want, is repelled from my proximity, and both with clockwork precision, as I seemingly have power to literally speak things and events, people, places, things, and whatever, right into and out of existence. I love rain, it is sunny. I like to go and B left alone at the beach, and teen queens like 'Sarah's gang', even all through my forties, come up and flirt with me, none of this is one bit fucking natural, and I want to get old and die more than anything, just to get the hell 'ouddahere', so what else but the reverse happens, I seemingly stay looking youthful and never seem to get to die. I know I have died, fatal heart attacks one recently at my work site, fatal auto crashes, electrocution, drowning, poisoning, I was shot to death, knifed to death right after Sarah turned 100 by worldly calendar system, and the list goes on and on and on.
Don't believe I am being messed with and hacked, huh? Then Y is even my computer guru, Mister Edwin Landhower Shometon, unable to get 2 the bottom of the blog on www.blogger.com/ the way some of the chapters in it are all weird and screwed up, half a line, one or two words on a line, something out of the "men from Saturn-Colony 888MK”? Just look at it for Crissake! And we cannot ever stop it. These scum behind their evil {Wall Street} are totally behind making my life total hell, wrecking in totality, a persons' entire life, for no more reason other than their mercenary avaricious, greedy, money-power thirsty, sick, and twisted personal gain; or their Gains, sweet little Donna!!!!! Yeah, I do not know where my 16 year old virgin woman is Mister Burger, but Rado and Ragni, and their long HAIR; have a nightmare story to them that is unspeakable, leading straight to the WTC, and the horrific 9/11, and how anyone can sleep at night profiting off this twisted inhumanity, through making billions on this movie, my tiny simple mind cannot crawl into that type of selfish avarice-ness. And then whom does the CIA, NSA, and other super BFA's persecute, a loyal true Emmy-Amy Madonna Blue citizen, whose grandparents grandparents, friends of Ben Franklin, all together helped to frame this country and our constitution, our founding fathers. Funny that I actually knew my gramps, Mr. Sam Huntington very well 2 and 1/2 centuries ago, when I was Mr. Franklin. hyperspatial existence is just too complicated to try and tackle today, as 2 much other shit needs B told today. I begin by taking this time to sincerely thank the most wonderful and understanding lady on this sin-cursed ball of solid hurl, for helping me break the enemy hackers attempts to thwart my publishing and up-loading of my blog on 2 separate occasions. She is a very busy professional person, with far more, in an Earthly sense, important things to do and B concerned with, yet she dropped it all like a ten ton sack, to help me get my blog up-loaded, twice. Only her physical beauty slightly supersedes her inward beauty, and she will B nameless for reasons of protection. Cannot stop the all-knowing sixth dimension from knowing the omniscience of realities, but 4 the lower level enemies influenced 'ettosianically', to work underneath them, will insist on protecting her identity. Not all Lamist-scum, as I've recently added a syllable to their named order, R anywhere near as powerful, as they would like for me to believe. Gods do not share that much with their cohorts and co-conspirators. They share an infinitesimal fraction of their power, with some of them, but always in an [interruption channel] or otherwise, the on again/off again-ness of so-called outer worldly supernatural powers, could not keep their necessary [doubt factor], that these gods insist on; as
remember, they R us in this lower reality, and they do not wanna' get onto the reality here, of whom they really R there, and especially the [impossibility of ever reaching oblivion] truths, to ever B within their human grasp, as they exist as and through us in our lower beingness.
I took a supernatural hell-siege from these twisted sick games playing gods over the weekend while trying my best to do a good job at my work side this past weekend. Just past nine and a half ante' meridian on Sunday morning, a huge poison chemtrail went over my site, just to
the west, spreading out and causing severe tonsillitis, which human world doctors, all under total 'etteosionic' control and manipulation, will never remove my tonsils, so as to work as a conspiracy to keep me in physical discomfort and sometimes agony, ever since I turned
seventeen years old. These poisons in the cloud spread out and cause many different things to many different people, whatever and whomever the givers of this attack, are trying to hurt and in what way, is dependent on the type of poisonous chemtrail that these wicked bastards use up in the sky, or as I jokingly refer to the sky as SK----Y?, or Sarah Krassle, WHY? Y do U allow these evil duosh-wod sub-scummites to hurt your [that-boy] so damn much, and can't UC that when I was younger down on your street in the 1960's, I did not mean to ever hurt U in any way? I loved U more than my life, ya ditsy teen queen. The first day that U smiled at me when we were 10 years old, I was coming out of the Trinidad Motel on Tennessee Avenue, leaving the lobby at 6 AM to walk up to the ramp at the boardwalk so that I could rent a bicycle 4 a couple hours and ride the boards from Captain Starns to Longport, over and over. But all through the bike ride, and all day at the beach with my mom, and Ziggy, and all his buddies, it was U that I thought about, and your lovely smile, that would brighten up any rainy day. You only got more ravishing with every passing year as I saw U with your girlfriends, summer after summer, over a 5 year period, 1965-1968 at the motel, and then in '69 when I came down alone by bus to C my buddy Ziggy. The final year in '70 was when I was staying with your Aunt Vicki's boyfriend, the bisexual whom molested me at his Cornwall Avenue property in Ventnor, NJ, the town to the south of AC, NJ. All winter long for nearly 10 months each year, I thought of nothing but U. Your special smile, that I am convinced other boys also must have seen, and written songs about. U have many admirers who have written songs about U. Mine only made it to the number one position in the independent country music charts in 1998, and for one week, when Mizz Linda Ronstadt's' girlfriend's song, knocked mine off. If U think for a second that I ever forgot U, nor did not love U; then U really do not know your [That-Boy], as well as you do when I am your huge dalmatian dog in your great city, Sahasra Dal Kanwal. Thank U so very much 4 taking me out of Dogtown, and fighting 2 keep me, with your very argumentative parents, as they have both made it well known to me, that they want me far away from U. They even totally made me forget U, shortly after the 70's came in, but U had other plans 4 me, right down to telling all of this 2 the world, and create a foundation someday called MORIANITY FOUNDATION. Also, U want me to write the MORIANITY BIBLE FOR MILLENNIUM THREE, and I follow your commands, my lovely teen queen, oh great goddess Jupiter, daughter of Neptune-Jupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious. Your full names give U a name-number of 30, very special to me as time running backward in Hollywood showed me in his [Made in Heaven] movie in 1988. Also 30 when you total up all digits from one to thirty is 465, and month 4 in century twenty year of 65, or April/'65, [4/65], is when the Traymore Hotel, in AC, NJ, canceled my mom's reservations' that she had just made back in March of 1965, for our second year to stay there on our vacation, but U fixed it that the hotel in the area of our room, was unavailable due to a renovation project or similar thing if memory properly is serving me over Estonian powers of confusion. So we just went down that late June day in 1965, hopped a cab, and told the cabby to take us to any place that he felt there may B a vacancy. Seems he had a friend, Larry, a big black dude; a super 'helluvaniceguy', that was the bellhop for the Trinidad, and this is how it all began from there.
Back to my vicious weekend attack, Milituforce all over me last week and weekend, choppers and planes, that chem that caused my painful tonsillitis that no one will fix, and I cannot get any lawyer to believe that a huge conspiracy exists to keep me in constant pain and misery, it is straight fucking out of a mix of Steven King and Alfred Hitchcock combination, or as will B referred in future blogs as the SKAHCO, for abbreviation, as it perfectly pronounces as well. Strange how Mr. King, distant cousin by the way to the late 'John', and big Paula, started his N&DS crap on when else but good ol' 12 July. The 3-9 life cycle needs B discussed too 4 a quick seck. 3,9,27,81, these are major periods where all human life cycles in ways that only all of U can C if U look carefully at your own lives. 27 is the number of electricity or the subatomic particle that we humans call the electron, as there R roughly six quintillion of these particles in one amperage {AMP} of electricity. Do not even try to grasp a number like this, as there are far less inches in a light year, even a parsec, than this. Anyway, about the siege at work, after the huge dissipating chemtrail, came loud choppers and loud CIA/NSA planes, 'doubledecker' planes, and on and on. After it stopped, one of the workers, who always brings his dog with him, was driving around the place in a truck, and I saw his Great Dane dog, and as I always do, get out to pet him, and say hi. The bitch turned on me, growled, and used his paw to give me kick like punches in my chest, and then ran off. When I told his owner of the dogs' strange behavior a half hour later, he was stymied. But I followed him and as we came near to his dog, the dog knew it had done something, and would not come to his master, nor follow commands, and this is a friendly and obedient dog. All I am going to say here is, mother fuckers, I am totally onto what UR doing to me, and the human race in general, and I will fight U pricks until U manage to suck 5 quarts of my blood out of my puny pathetic whittle ugly body. Bring it on hammer-moms, bring it on; as my letters to the feds R in the friggin' mail, and ever though I know that I'll get nowhere; I also am well aware of the fact that U dirt-holes hate this type of exposure. Eat me, Doctor Steckle of 'FLATLINERS'!!!!!!
Christianity, in all that it preaches and believes, is textbook psychotic. Because it is accepted by many, and was around long before psychiatry was, it is ok. But let me come along, and the book kills me before I can even get started. It would matter none if I raised everyone up from a cemetery this afternoon. Remember the Charmed Cleaners Effect, that I will refer for short in future blogs, to, the [CCE], not the C&E post from 1988 where I was guarding and messed with the [don't come down 2 your shoes] jerk-offs!!!!! More about the 3 and 9 Life Cycle reality that few know and understand. July 12 of 1970, let us keep adding exactly 9 years to this. Donna Summer made a deal with Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Karge Krassle on 7/12/79. On 7/12/88, someone sabotaged my auto, and when I drove out of the golden Nugget Casino, it broke literally in half, the rear axle had been messed with, and I ended up in the bay, and charged with points on my license and insurance, costing me thousands in increased premiums and thousands to purchase another 'piecashitter'/clunker. Then a huge interaction occurred when I went to bed in my Somerdale, New Jersey home on the night or early morning around 2 AM of 7/12/97, and Paula King was in it, but I never did more than surface scratch this dream; just told U about how she finger-chucked a large cigar, but where the Pittsburgh Hotel and Erin Bar stand here in this world, there was a NJ State Police station, there. They arrested me after I saw Paula do this, even when I said to them that she did it. They put me in Frank Callio's squad car, and drove me onto huge astral plane highways, 80 lanes in each opposing direction, and into a place in Dogtown, that I am too scared to tell much of it 2U. It was more horrible than anything speakable, as U could be cut into thousands of pieces, but remain alive, with each piece throbbing and bleeding and messed up, yet you are there and aware; and there is so much more hell, the Paddle-Box Prison System, where you are put into a huge pinball machine, and become like a body shaped pinball, bouncing and gurgling and being hit by giant flippers made of jagged edged cut glass, your blood gushing everywhere, but it goes on for what seems 40 earth years. You never can die out and away from it, the worst of all of it is the weed cutting yards, as it is 130 degrees with a sky filled with 20 suns blaring down on you and frying you like nothing U could ever fathom, unless U remember being in this hell. You're given these 70 pound huge sheers, and placed in 3,000 acre fields of thick 3 foot high weeds, that you must cut down in one Dogtown day, a period of about 50 of our earth revolution days here in human-life realms. Then of course 9 years later from this hellish hell on 7/12/96, or 36 years, or 4 life-9-cycles, as some statisticians refer to this as, comes 7/12/2006, when the 2 dudes were kidnapped in the middle east, and they R playing this way down, right down to their fixed and controlled Wall Street. It is only flying up because they're literally friggin' torturing and tormenting my life to unfathomable extremes, and on top of that, I just replaced my broken car stereo with another one not 2 weeks ago, and 'kafrikinbang', they busted the bitch again, same exact shit, tape won't go into the mechanism, so sue me, I love the old days, and I love my cassette tapes, screw all this digital crap, cell phones, people talking to themselves or so it appears in grocery stores, palm pilots, digital audio/video junk, all unnatural, and it breaks more than the analog stuff, as it is way more sensitive to what the enemy is able to do to it. Now I gotta go back to the store and waste a day getting a replacement, and UR asking me why their dirt bag stock market goes up in three digits for 2 back to back weeks, and is climbing to the moon? All has to do with the parallel event of torturing poor whittle friggin' pathetic me. How can U seriously rationalize a rising market during a major middle-eastern crises? U cannot, U know it, U know I'm right in all my claims if U've been following my life on MB; and U may on varying levels of conscious mind, attempt to play games about it. How can I not B speaking the total absolute truth, and only the damn truth? Crissake, I mention the Hammonton Ice Cream Parlor, it's gone along with Turnersville Pathmark where my mom and I were terroristically threatened just 2 weeks after my Sarah's 100th birthday. I welcomed my phase-4 Viqueen to the world, and no more super-ex girlfriends, all promotions stop, boom on a dime. Do I really have to convince U? U either won't listen and believe, because U don't want 2, or UR a believer by now, and I love you brother/sister, and true Morian.
Yes, my blog is long today, and I have not started to elucidate the injustices being done to me, day after day, all my frickin' life!!!! 3 people tried to save my life in the seventies, and get me away and safe from the Lamists, but they followed me to Newton Creek in West Collingswood, NJ, an old haunt of the late Mister Horowitz, Uugee, short for Eugene, the great Michael Landon the actor, as most of U non locals to that area, know him by. 1 Helluva cool dude. Anyway, Bob Pincus, Albert Soifer, and Sigmund Malyeska, all in the summertime anyway, from AC,NJ, running or managing establishments, motels, soda shops, or in the case of my real good buddy, Ziggy, the out there and having' a good time in sun and surf guy. Ziggy found out that they were planning to make me a Lamist, and warned me to go home, as he one day in late June of 1970, kept repeating this phrase over and over again, [go home, go home, go home], and just would not tell me more; but the friggin' expression on his face, did all the rest of the talking for him. All 3 of these people said it 2 me, Pinky did not believe me at first, and Thomas J-Fag Reale, warned me that if I told about shit, nobody would believe me, but he was not counting on Ziggy. Al Soifer was friends with lots of the Vi-queens, even caught him romantically kissing lots of them, and their friends, friends of his own friggin' daughter Nina Soifer, for crissake, but he loved, as the Donald does, all the trashy young stuff. He acted filthy, kissing them publicly in the lobby of the hotel. Many a late afternoon when I'd walk by on the South side of Tennessee Avenue, I'd look across at Mister Lip-locks. Revolting. Anyway, his son presently is in charge of the Ocean City, New Jersey Recreational Department, and knows little or any of the stuff that went on back then, as most boys have their own friends and piers and social life, but he did know the Callio gang of beauties, just as I know that Chester Perkowski, mentioned on prior blogs, also knew of them, although he vehemently denied this to me. An error I discovered on the blog mentioning the letter I received from Chester, it was not secretary of defense, I meant to say the present time then Secretary of State, McNamara, and I spelled his name way off, and still may not B spelling it right, but it is pronounceable at least with this spelling. So maybe the cooking channel is serving up better food for your body today, but hopefully, using a human expression, I'm serving up better food 4 your isness of being, [SOUL]. Now 4 some of the reasons for my most recent HELLDEATHSIEGES:
I would have forever forgotten a dream I had, by your way of seeing things, but did not. It was not meant for me 2 forget this recent dream that occurred late last week, Thursday night last I believe. Some one was thanking me for some lovely flowers that I had sent to them, a
lady, a record company executive in the A&R Department, the dudes and duddesses that listen to new talent. She went onto bring a huge man named Lou, 7 feet tall, into the room, and they were telling me how fantastic a song I wrote in the year 2000, was. They told me they just had to
have it. It was gonna' B a huge hit, and we'd all make tens of megabucks, and on and etcetera. I now know the song from the way they described it in the dream, even though I cannot actually pull it up in my waking mind, them referring to the song by its name. Even know who they would B in the waking world, as U think of this as. But without some half drunk nincompoop calling up a request line at a local oldies radio station, and requesting that great oldie by Leslie Gore, called, “You Don't Own Me”, and my somehow just turning the radio on and hearing it, as the song has some similar chord changes in it that directly triggered memory of the forgotten dream; that dream to me here in this life, would have been forever lost, and some really big shit that Otammscum & Milituforce does not want me into, would never have had even a snowball's Hell-chance, to have occurred. I will try now to continue, and remember, as much as I can, took a fucking hack again, even though I am on the floppy, someone blocked the warning that 5 minutes were left on the library computer, next thing I knew, boom, blank screen and shit gone. U can really C that just as I told U on prior blogs, the Milituforce uses a Motive Program, and does what it must to keep me away from doing, or even talking about MUSIC, it is a super no-no, me and music. They almost screwed me out of my dream, now they screw me out of a couple of very important blog paragraphs, that I'll do my best to reconstruct. One thing I must tell U is that these bastards PUNISH. Do what they don't want, G-E-T---- P-U-N-I-S-H-E-D. It does not matter what good 4ces influenced the song to get played, or me to turn to that station at work at that time, it happened, and my interaction was restored. 2 hours later, as my car stereo is the old AM/FM/Cassette type, as I play cassettes, boom-bing-bang, and night-nurse, the tape player in the car breaks, after just getting it put in about 2 weeks ago. Brand new in the box, at a large known department store. No reason for this to have occurred. Too late pricks, as I remember the lady thanking me for sending her flowers, and called in a man named Lou to join us in a room, he was 7 feet tall and thin, a dude you c once and do not forget. They were raving about the song, insisting I sign up with their recording label, and although the song never was mentioned by name, I know by the way they described the why's in A&R lingo, of what would make it a huge hit recording, and know which of the many songs that I've written since I was a pre-teen boy, song that indeed these 2 record executives were referring 2. Speaking of direct hacks, Ettosian attacks, typos, and the sort, I meant to say an Ettosian BRAIN attack, not a Brian attack, back about a dozen chapters or so in Blogianity. Me getting involved musically is a no-no, and they won't permit it, they honest to the gods would end the world, rather than allow me to get a musical career, but they're in 4 one helluva friggin' fight, as I know how 2 reach both these people in daily life, I KNOW WHO THEY ARE AND WHERE THEY ARE, and I know the right person to go 2 in order 2 get 2 them, and will B implementing my plan when this friggin' heat wave ever breaks. I cannot totally despise heat, as it does tend to bring my lovely lightning around me, and on her number last month, the 27th of July, 27 is a number that is very pertinent to electrons, but she personally informed me in 1984, in a super vivid dream/interaction, that indeed, this is my number, 27, and she showed it to me with a huge red plasma lightning bolt, U do not forget stuff like this. Back to music, many of my songs are unknown on the human realm, written by both me and others, and in some cases co-written by astral entities along with me. I know that 2 most people, this all sounds as totally wacked as whack can get, but that is because you have never been shot and drowned and smashed to shit in car crashes, and don't die godsdamn U all; this hell is real and forever, it never will stop. If U won't believe me, then don't, I cannot force the issue, but I know what I know, I have been there/done that, and simply put, by the way U think on your level, you have not, so U won't believe the terrible eternal plight that I find myself in. As for my getting ding-dong hammered after remembering my dream as I'd call it, then the broken stereo, then the huge next day attack in the air, they also blew out my bowels and body in general, chem-siege, all types of air siege, even got an otherwise normally friendly dog to attack me, and later he ran away from his owner, as it knew something on some level was wrong. I could go into even worse and more horrific nightmarish details on who and what and all of the juicy stuff, but it is not my intent for the blog at this time. There are places in Dogtown where gods are resting up, only to walk out of the Paddle-box Prison and enter our worldly life in ways more scarey than any of your movies, and I'. keeping up with what goes down in Hollywood. Getting close to shit that's happening with me with your August thriller computer movie, but U still do not grasp the real Y's to the goings on of these puke swallowing 'regurgitaters'. All of everything is but a game to distract us in all forms and on all realms from remembering and knowing that there is never ever any oblivion, we endlessly go on in everlasting existing hell. Just cause the great DJT of NY & AC, NJ, can manage to take a short tiny whittle vacation from his true hell, in big picture, he endlessly suffers with what we all do, and believe poor whittle Hell's Messenger, or not, it is the truth, so help me SSJKK.
7 dimensions endlessly are relative and in a relationship with the one true and real zero-dimensional void infinity. There is a less than nothing to a nothing force that makes lawtrons, and this force is not what I am here today 2 talk to U about, another time and place Donna, OK, Mr. King. Try to C the nightmare of endless dots on a huge wheel and then a room of these endless wheels on a new dot, and the zero dimension and less than zero or [uncreation], works together creating lawtrons, that create thought [6-D] dimensional existence at infinity, and this thought or sixth dimension from our 3-d world reference, then creates many many multiverses. Entities travel in and out of many things, but cannot control the 6th dimension, as this is the energy of the lawtrons, and lawtron energy is more in a tiny area of a rug in a single room, looking at this humanly, than every bit of any created/downlined realms of any form or types of existence. This universe and all of its gogalplexes of parallel 5th dimensional hyperspatial realities, is all less than in total energy and physical size, than the very smallest particle or wave of any type or form could ever be, coming from an upline world that created it and them, and this is why the system operates as it does, and Y there is only one real void infinity, but many of all of the 7 possible dimensions.
I could go on forever, but time says, screw U buddy, you godda get ouddahere, so in closing, just know that I still have not slightly scratched peach-fuzz off the great iceberg that sent the Titanic to the Kanwal Avenue Palace, belonging to the great Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Karge
Krassle. The friend who gave me the Masonic family lineage chart that proves who I am and that Jesus was a half brother to me 62 generations ago, U know that I will swear in any court that he was murdered by a total jag-off named Jonathan Schau, slowly poisoned him to his death, after lodge meetings, when they'd go to eat out at a diner. Another person David Charles Roth hung with years back in the mid and late 1960's, was a systems annalist named Wilbur McAfee, if I am spelling his name correctly. There is a huge story to tell U about all of this, and yes, this is the now famous computer software virus protection writer. They would go with other dudes down to the island LBI, in NJ, where my gramps had his boys camp before the Second World War. Much much 2 tell, so stay tuned.
posted by
theansweristheqyuestion at 1:35
PM
1 Comments:
-
Askinstoo
said...
-
Hi, i was
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a place where you can make some nice extra cash secret shopping.
I made over $900 last month having fun!
make extra money - 3:38 PM
-
No
kind person; my blogs have very little to do with money, and a whole
dog-gone lot to do with being eternally oppressed and persecuted. And
this is why it is called the “EPITOME OF
HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION”, as I used to have a
version of similar type stuff back in the 1990's, on cassette tapes,
and now, the great United States © Office has a small little opening
part to it on one of me' late 1996 Musical Projects sent down to them
from my House Of Horrors in Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG! Wanna' make lots
of money do you. First, keep track of me and SELL SHORT as much stock
as you can when you find out that Mark Wayne Mohr has permanently
expired. Also read me' blogs and every time that I tell you the STOCK
MARKET will fly to the sky, BUY the damn DOW INDEX, and if you
do those two things, you will be the next multimillionaire, or
possibly even the next billionaire for Crissake! So WOW THAT, lovely
Mizz Winfrey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NAUT
THE END, AND
STINKING TO DOGTOWN BRIDGE.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE';
SIR
CHESTER-FRANK.
The
truths about the ASTRAL
PLANE
are not simple, unless we pick and choose a few things pertaining to
it that ARE
JUST THAT!
First off, people
who DREAM OFF OF IT, this Morianity calls, PHASE-3 BEINGS,
meaning that first, there was void zero dimensional infinity, and
even the mighty Mister Georgio Moroder, and lovely Mizz Irene
Flash-Fame Cara, were not yet existing at this point. The trouble
that the mighty Scientific Community has here, is that without time,
how did this then go onto progress out into an Astrality or PHASE-2,
and then have the power and ability to expand out
beyond
that incredible infinitesimally tiny area of PLANCK-TIME, called
the “BIG BANG COSMOS”;
leading to the nuclear programmed eventually created element of
CARBON, that then allowed for the final stage of our cosmos awakening
into individual clay beings, us, or the PHASE-3?
This
is pretty simple, well, to the Scientific Community, or anyone
seriously studying cosmological information, handed down to where the
current era circa is presently developed enough, to realize and
understand on some very basic primordial level, what it seemingly all
does! The other simple reality that no book learning is ever needed
for, is that once we ARE PHASE-3 BEINGS or human beings, those who
live and exist in the caporial material tangible physical plane of
human breathing life; WE HAVE A TREMENDOUS AVERSION TO EXIST IN ANY
OTHER WAY WHATSOEVER, and would do anything possible NOT TO
DIE!!!!!!!!!!!! Just as much as the carbon nuclear program was all
placed into what it has now become here in the cosmos of present
point, so too, that same program, PLACED THIS FEAR OF RETURNING TO
OUR REAL AND TRUE EXISTENCE, into us all, in a very huge and
gargantuan major ass way!!!!!!!!!!! Want to discuss the most powerful
polarized topic possible in human life? Well, here it is. These two
POWERFUL, AND YET OPPOSING BUILT IN TRUTHS TO THIS COSMOS, and that
seem to elude the greatest mathematicians and minds of science and
cosmology alike, make up the verbiage translation to velocitronic and
its inconceivable electromagnetic fielding system that cannot live
with just one side or end to this bipolar reality. Take one side away
such as the so-called religious concept of the GARDEN OF EDEN where
the negative side of the magnet is removed completely, and we would
get what truly is in the first place, ultimate velocitronic truth or
zero dimensional void. If one force, positive or negative were to
become removed from the other one, the ultimate velocity would kick
in until what was thought of as cosmos would merely again be the
VOID. It was the adding of the negative force then, if we carefully
add religious beliefs and ideas to the scientific reality of it all.
Creation of the physical world is accomplished therefore, by removing
the way the system of physicality operates. A negative force MUST BE
ADDED to the VOID or (+ ONLY) force. It is so simple that you'd think
that a moronic mother fucking child would grasp this idea at a
recess yard and spread it to all of the world from there, huh little
Tracy and George Burns????????????? I still say, HOLLYWOOD knows too
much to be NOT from the “other world” to use accepted mortal
realm terminology, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
May
19,
2020 8:00 PM – May
26,
2020 7:00 PM
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For
those who love to insist on complicating the items in life that can
indeed be quite easily simplified, by simply refusing to entertain
how their own feelings, and ideas, and memories, and life emotions,
and any other personal junk may connect into the whole entire truth
involved; all I can offer here is that I have died ten times in my
human life as the 'ME-PERSONA' that I am now, Mark
Wayne Mohr,
and without the Huntington or the Mountainpen.
But that doesn't fully explain the fact that many peeps in this new
age more technologically advanced era of medical-science, at least
'supposedly', who've been brought back from death, and also had died
for a short period of mortal world time; and how
they do not have the same precise and detailed memories and knowledge
of this wild and mind bending existence of the PHASE-2
or the PURGATORY
(Astral-Plane)!!!!!!!!!
This truth of powerhouse fucking proportion is the EXCUSE-OCEAN
for tons and tons of cubic liquid DOUBT
so to speak, about whether the Mountainpen is just trying to pull off
the biggest fucking ass con-job ever in human history. I cannot do
one thing to fully explain the why's to all of that and thus to be
able to get rid of that miserable rotten ocean of doubt. I can only
offer a few ideas for those who may want to believe me in all these
things, yet feel that I've yet to come close to meeting me' burden
for allowing them to trust me implicitly enough to do so. They won't
all show up right now in a perfectly ordered non-Terry-Egg
Scatterbrain list of detailed sentences in extremely plainly worded
English, but as this BLOG-BOOK continues onward in chapter numbers,
more and more things that will resemble such a list as this, will
indeed be provided, and especially if the viewer reading me' words is
anxiously looking to find it, and not just up here scoffing while
they read!
First
off, I have died ten times and been dead in mortal time a lot longer
in some of these cases than just the minute or two or maybe three or
four or so, that those who flatline in a hospital may experience.
Second, I do not doubt the things that have happened to me or choose
to continue ignoring the supernatural junk that happens to me in a
larger picture way as a result of all of my ASTRALLY CONNECTED
'HUMAN' EXPERIENCES, while alive in my lifetime and current body,
physically. Third, I have come to learn in early stages of these ten
deaths, that I am madly in love with a great goddess that humanly
appears to be the LIGHTNING
FORCE that surrounds our planet, and who calls herself GODDESS DIANA.
Fourth, I have come to have incredible countless HUMAN INTERACTIONS
with LIGHTNING,
as a result of that. And fifth and for now finally, I
have merged the two planes in ways that any and all present time
“psychics” only mother fucking can DREAM ABOUT DOING,
which absolutely proves to me without one sliver tiny piece of doubt
whatsoever that I am not crazy or deluded, or even just off the track
of logical and rational reasoning, as measured humanly while alive,
in the physical, tangible material realm of human life! Now as
stated, this entire blog-book that is only beginning right now, will
be filled with 'other-oceans' of lists and proofs to why my ten
deaths and returns; may be quite a bit different than anyone else's
on this planet, EVER!
Thank
you for coming here to visit with me BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING. At just
past three this afternoon, Diana has come all around me' area with
gorgeous lovely lightning. NASA
is trying to launch a rocket up to the 'ISS' or INTERNATIONAL
SPACE STATION,
I believe that the launch is scheduled for somewhere around 4:34 or
so, according to “TWC”. It has dropped to 88 degrees from 91, and
is extremely humid, with wonderful lovely lightning all around me. Oh
DIANA my endless love,
please do not ever, ever, never, never, ever, never leave your
little boy! I will always love you so very much, my
beyond white hot beautiful LIGHTNING!!!!!!!!!!!!
Boy oh boy is some scum bag yelling in the hallway, and some yelping
dogs are out there too, so it is most likely dirt bag Mister-Mex in
Unit-#605. WEIN-SOSO-SSDD??????
Yessir, it is pouring down torrential rain outside of me' window and
yes Mike Sucks, maybe also outside of me' windows50.3!!!!!!!
I
was going to make me'self a ham sandwich peeps, but me' bread went
fucking ass bad and moldy. I keep it in me' kitchen cabinet until I
can purchase some type of bread container. Without that, rodents and
roaches will bite right through the thin mother fucking plastic bag
that breads are rapped up in. To almost quote lovely
Lightning
in her once human form; “There
ain't no stopping them now”,
as these damn pests are hungry mother fucking little critters, yo yo
yo yo yo! All I can do if I don't wish to refrigerate me' bread loafs
that I buy at me' local Publix Store, is to buy a container that is
air tight made of thick rodent-proof plastic, that will fit bread
loafs. I think that the local Dollar Store has them, and if 'naut'
Mizz
Blake;
then I
will try the damn Walmart;
but they only seem to have a few things any more, ever since that
miserable playboy billionaire Amazon asshole bastard bald-man,
changed
everything for all of us.
Yes peeps, any of you dumb enough to buy or trust ANY
of these PETER
BRADY
crooked hair growth stunts that we all see on the television year in
and year old, should
try a little bit of fucking logic application first.
Don't you in all honesty think that there would be NO
BALD HEADED BILLIONAIRES
if anything truly worked? These dudes
and duddesses
can have anything they want with their truckloads of fucking cunt
loot, so why are there a lot of super wealthy baldies all over the
place then? THIS
ENTIRE WORLD IS ONE HUGE-ASS CROOKED CRIMINAL CESSPOOL!
So I'll have to go to the Publix for a new loaf of their absolutely
delicious bread!!!!!!!!!! I never, outside of a real professional
bakery back in olden days; have
tasted bread as great as that sold by the wonderful and awesome
PUBLIX
GORCERY STORES!!!!!!!!!!
WOW
is Diana treating me like a king today. THANK-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
me' lovely BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WELL
GINA ME' LOVELY PROSTITUTE OF THE NINETEEN-NINETIES, I
TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU TOLD YOU
TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU,
TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU
ALL, that the fucking DOW
JONES STOCK MARKET
WOULD AGAIN TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING FLY, RIGHT
AFTER MISTER MEXICO #605 PERSECUTED ME BACK ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON,
AND SURE ENOUGH, ALL WEEK IT HAS FLOWN TO THE STARS, WITH THE
TRUMPFORCE-SPACEFORCE-MILITUFORCE ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY USED ON AND
AGAINST ME SINCE AUGUST OF 1986, BRINGING
A 1,400 POINT STOCK MARKET
UP TO AN ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING CUNT HIGH
OF JUST OVER 30,000 POINTS,
OR A GAIN
OF >2,100% IN UNDER THREE AND A HALF MEASLEY DECADES OF TIME,
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH YESSIR WORLD, in just the past two days, today
and yesterday, we
are talking about a gain of >1,100 POINTS,
as a DIRECT RESULT of PERSECUTING
and HARASSING
poor little helpless and totally fucking cunt defenseless
Mister
Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr,
BRRRRRRR!!! So just how long are all of you doubters out here going
to keep fucking proving what assholes you all are, by
continuing to forever DOUBT ME?
Diana
has been here since I reported it some time back, and the great
rocket launch at the NASA SPACE CENTER, up the coast and north from
me a ways, was SCRUBBED, due to the inclement weather.
The
next hope window for launch will be Saturday, and if the weather is
bad, then Sunday.
The weather should be cooperating and the rains and storms are pretty
much over after today ends, according to the meteorological geniuses
out there, yo
BREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! To
quote me'self from summer-camp
in July of both the years of 1967 and 1968,
when I would tell my camp-counselor Mister
Mack Kaiter,
upon numerous occasions when absurd bullshit would be happening to
and around me even back then at barely puberty; “This
is WEEDEEKAWUSS”!!!!!!!!
And I assure anyone out here, that NAUT ONE MOTHER FUCKING CUNT
SNIFFING THING TO THIS VERY DAY, HAS
ALTERED IN ONE WEE TINY WHITTLE BIT,
YO
BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Due
to ultra-complex rhythms in the 5th
dimensional fabric of the hyperspace cosmos of the Physical-Plane of
human life, and conscious awareness;
I will require centuries of time to figure everything all out
completely, if it ever can be truly achieved that is. But I'll go
right on trying, as the
rewards outweigh all of the expenditure of sweat equity times ten to
the power-exponent of about an octillion
or fucking pussy lapping so, yo BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Should we go
back to the era of my
wild mysterious
medical
condition
of the days of ATCO, NJUSAESMWG in middle 1983 that began at 10:30 at
night on 4 June of that year, and on the
very day that I turned age twenty-eight
and one half years
in present current human persona; I will real quickly examine some
things that I was 'being'
very 'careful',
'Paula
and Regis',
never to let out before right now, and
for reasons that you may not ever be told in absolute detail on these
blogs, or the 'BOM',
and to quote Sir Leviathan Barnabas Collins today and so perfectly
may I add, “IT'S
TIME”!!!!!
There is not a whole lot of new things in any of our older things as
we as human-people continue marching ever onward in our lives here on
this Earth-Planet. The only true thing that allows old things to keep
becoming new things, is SEPARATION, which by the way great folks, is
a completely misunderstood reality so far as of middle 2020 anyway.
You
cannot have separation without mind CREATING a large AREA called the
HYPERSPACE.
Within this realm of five-dimensional possibilities of virtually
every and all combinations of all potential things; there exists the
ALL of the zero-dimensional reverse to this, which is absolute
nothingness or the Void-Infinity, what Morianity has labeled way back
in the late nineteen-seventies, “Zero-Dimension”,
and as a direct result of a wild chance encounter or perhaps a
preplanned one for all I know, with
a strange BEING-ENTITY
who appeared as a human being to me, in the summer of 1974 on an
Atlantic City beach one day. I have on many of my nearly fifteen year
long blogs now, called that man or whatever it truly was in higher
reality, “The
Alchemist”.
You see people, without my meeting that fellow, none of the things
that happened after that in so far as what could be termed or labeled
as “supernatural”, at least IMHO, would have ever fucking
occurred!!!!!!!!!!!! Now to quote lovely
Mizz
Mashell
Daniels
from the year 1980,
“I
am entitled to my opinion”
and yes, of course I can be right or I can be wrong, and without any
catchy 1969 tunes or razor clubs being a part of things here. Now I
need to open all of these up here today so that it can become the
necessary laid down full foundations for many things that will now be
said and told, along with many many more things as well, on
near-future BLOG-BOOK Chapters of this book concerning Mizz White and
HER incredible numerous DREAM-CONTROLLED AND MANIPULATED people who
otherwise normally reside here in this waking world reality, and if
not for being controlled by Mizz White, would most likely not have
ever even entered into any interactions at all with me! Those who
never have heard the music projects that I have sent over decades of
time to the great and illustrious United States © Copyright Office,
won't understand in full, what is now being revealed. This is being
done in full total revenge for these many years of ICPE-APE-TECH
PERSECUTION
ON ME, BY WALL
STREET,
AND ITS MONSTROUS FUCKING HORRIBLE
BILLY-CLUB;
oh lovely Mizz
'L&O' Borgia!!!!!!!! So
let us now get back to the wild medical condition of quintessential
mystery, given to me out of the blue at one exact minute in time in
the wild year of 1983. When I had been afflicted by this 'problem
Misses Mohr',
for about half of a year or so, I went to see a very
incredible Throat Specialist in Northeast Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,
USA,
back early in 1984, or if memory is off just a tad which is possible,
the end of 1983; but either way, while I was still residing at the
506 Robin Hill Apartment that I moved into after I had left Atco,
NJUSAESMWG, after living there only about a half year or so, in
Mister Gerald Pliner's rental home on 134 Norris Avenue. I had driven
there, and I had been given an appointment; and yet my
mind is now a total blank about the actual doctor.
I only remember the so-called 'assistant' who I have called
throughout my Morianity, the “Lab-Technician”.
She looked extremely young, and she was dressed to look like a grown
up person, but anyone could see that she was in her middle teens at
best. I had spoken to her on the phone earlier for driving
instructions to this office just off of Grant Avenue, and the entire
Copyright Office knows about this quite well and I am sure is still
shaking their heads over it all! What I now believe to be true,
beyond and besides all other previously evaluated and cogitated upon
stuff for decades now; is that this transdimensional
Doctor
Carey
was there as some wild part of an Exploratronic
Supermind Society's experiment
with
the human race. I now also believe that Trump
was scared that day at his Plaza
Hotel
for extremely
GOOD REASON.
As I did not fully appreciate what I did at Cifaloglio with my fake
journal entry that set all of this shit into motion that day in 2009,
while living under a Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapping, at the great KING
FAMILY home in Blucranville-Hammonton; I also now realize that
shortly after my LOIS-FOCA-SONG
incident right around this time in the year of 1980, actually in the
first week of June just like my chocking medical condition three
years later on; I faked something else, even before I faked what I
discussed on previous blogs many times, and also at 506 Robin Hill
Apartments when I faked the “POISON CIGARETTE” thing that then
all suddenly led to meeting up with the mysterious Lab-Tech who I now
believe was some unfathomable and transdimensional
Doctor Carey,
in late winter somewhere of 1984, just off of Grant Avenue, in
Philly. Things that my mom said and did that made no sense unless
looked at in the light of why Mister
Tom Speers
told me at the J.F.
Kennedy Hospital
early on the 26th
morning
of 1997,
while I resided at the 'HOH' Somerdale DEATH-HOUSE,
that, and I quote him, “Coworker
Emily
is not the reason that your mother drinks like a fish”!!!
Shirley, the laboratory, the magical television, the way the 'A&B
TV SERVICE REPAIR SHOP' treated me for absolutely no good reason in
the very same way that the repair shops here in this county 1,400
miles away in separated distance, and decades away in separated time,
also did likewise to the very carbon copy of it all; but without
going on and on as I could and all of you know that without being
further convinced, but yessir; how about the reality that both of us
were struck while in our final years of our twenties with this
'throat-problem'? If
the great MIZZ WHITE from some PARALLEL UNIVERSE has become a
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON
and is able to dream-possess these three women over here, Patty,
Paula, and Melanie,
and has this mind boggling incredible plan and goal behind it that
involves me and my entire Huntington
family
which is thousands of years old and is of cosmic importance to the
ASTRAL-GODS,
as they have entered into the physical realm THROUGH US, now, and
thousands of years ago,
BUT IN ALL OF THIS AND LOTS MORE, THERE STILL IS PLENTY OF FUCKING
MAJOR UNKNOWN'S TO IT ALL, AND I DO NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY PRETEND TO
IGNORE THAT TRUTH FOR A SINGLE FUCKING MINUTE, YO!!!!!!!!! For a long
time, I thought that Merry's mom Patty WAS the physical incarnation
of Mizz Jewelly white, and now I've come to see as clearly as
daylight on a star, just how wrong that I truly was. Jewelly White is
from a parallel universe, she is a mastered 'artress' if you'll let
me coin a new word here peeps; of DREAM CONTROL, in other words a
completely adept human being who is able to become what my Morianity
calls and labels a TYPE-3-Exploratron, journeying into parallel
worlds just as we all do, called DREAMING, only when she does it, she
can always take over control and literally act aggressively as
opposed to passively with her interaction dream-characters, and those
three women for example who've been listed here, are the main ones.
None of this is without a big reason, and no one could seriously
entertain a concept that would dispute that. Even
insanity itself has motives and goals,
at least according to the great fictional original Star Trek
character, Mister Vulcan Spock, on that episode where a bunch of
future-hippie-types are looking to find Planet-Eden!!!!!!!!!!!! So is
Merry a part of that wild series of goals and motives? Is Atlantic
city? Are the Kings? Is
Melanie's fantastic folksong
“Brand
New Key”
anything but 'Dan
Mackey Trivial'
in all of this as well? Well, you be the judge, but remember that not
only does Merry have the same type of condition that I do,
physically, but in both of us, it began at the late twenties in age
years. According to the
great folksinger Mizz Safka,
taking literally with the JRSS the idea that a brand new key is
somehow involved, let us first look at one very obvious weird
connection to KEYS
with what else but CHAINS!
Nobody buys a chain lock unless they have a KEY to it, am I right
there folks? “Locked up” in all of this and so much fucking ass
more, is the truth to why I claim that three powerhouse statements
are behind all of creation, or the adding of the minus-force to the
VOID that allows the absolute velocity to slow down, eventually stop,
and hold there, just
so long as there are always the opposing polar fawces of
'VELOCITRONICS'
that is; oh
great people!!!!
I
VERY STRONGLY URGE ANYONE WHO HAS NOT READ EVERY SINGLE FUCKING WORD
OF THIS NEW BLOG-BOOK, BEGINNING WITH THE FIRST CHAPTER, RIGHT
THROUGH TO THIS PRESENT CHAPTER
#3,
TO DO SO, AND WITHOUT ANY FURTHER HESITATION, YO!!!
“THE
END” AND STINKING TO THE BRIDGE!
JEWELLY
WHITE
AND HER FOUR POSSESSED EARTHLY PERSONA'S
MARK
WAYNE
MOUNTAINPEN
HUNTINGTON
MOHR
5:55
POST
MERIDIAN
EARLY
ON TUESDAY EVENING
26
MAY,
2020
FORT
PIERCE,
FLORIDA,
USA,
ESMWG
©
2006-2020 Blogs Of Mountainpen
YOU
ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 2
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
THIS
BLOGGER WILL REMOVE ANY © MATERIAL UPON
REQUEST.
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR URL 2006-2020
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RIGHTS RESERVED ®
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JERSEY BLOGS, On Blogger since January 2006
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MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
MY BLOGS:
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
TUESDAY,
MAY 26, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 4:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
HAPPY
BIRTHDAY, 'HTHS' SHARON PAYNE.
Does
that goddamn MOUNTAINPEN ever forget anything; great folksingers and
folks?
I
am going to go back to what I had originally planned before I ran my
experiments with my ENEMY NABE FROM DOGTOWN,
MISTER MUSIC BLARING MEXICO OF UNIT #605. I will have a blog
ALWAYS ready for post up, needing only a
quick re-population data input, in so far as time and date, and the
reason for the posting; mainly the description of the assault, and
maybe if serious enough, a Magnesonic
Counterstrike as well. This hellishness is definitely
adversely effecting my health and I do plan to sue, and represent
myself as my own plaintiff, naming the Housing Authority as a
defendant, once I move out of here and into some cheap trailer park
somewhere. I may decide to just load up my car and take off into the
sunset, just as I did before more than ten years ago to escape the
mighty KING FAMILY OF WASHCLOTHS!
There is literally no mother fucking way to make an advanced
decision, not when my enemies the MILITUFORCE,
and my hellish shituation is always, and to quote Sir
David Roth the Latengrate, this goddamn “Life
threatening”! In any event, I will always have a blog ready to be
shot up on an instants notice. I feel it necessary to be able to
launch an extremely timely counterstrike as soon as this fucking dirt
bag BRIGGBASE-PAYOLA ENEMY starts
on me with his MN ASSAULTS
(Music-Noise).
HA-HA-HA-HA,
DIGITAL BITCH WITCH JANE Crapinherpants
Sleazeweedsdisease Notfondauonebit; ya' missed me
girl! Yessir world, when I went out to escape the music blast that
came on me out of an otherwise very peaceful Helliday-afternoon back
yesterday, Monday, Memorial Day; I drove over to the Indian River,
six blocks east of me' NON Patty Hollister
Building that is also known as AKA the Park
Terrace Building, and parked and sat in the pouring rain,
looking out into the water. I wrote down some spurious license
plates, and one of them was on a red truck that was acting very
spurious with me, and then just as it was right parallel to me, it
sped off burning rubber, but I had already got the plate, and yes, I
carry with me a small set of cheap binoculars that I bought at the
Good Will Store about eight years ago, for just this purpose. Most of
the plates I ever get belong to the Blackfile Agencies, you know,
CIA, NSA, or some other MAJ-12 or whatever system of Shadow Shit
Government that these secret fucking agents are hired from to
persecute and endlessly harass me, year in and year out without
fucking cunt ceasing! I know this well and remember well, as I
reported about two dozen or so spuriously behaving vehicles that were
harassing me back in New Jersey over the years of 1990 through about
1994, to the ADA of the CCPO, in NJUSAESMWG. I
NEVER FORGET ANYTHING, AND MY TRUE MIDDLE NAME IS OR AT LEAST SHOULD
BE, “ELEPHANT”,
despite my losing close to a hundred pounds over the past decade here
in Florida.
This
blog-book is going to seriously begin delving into the wild
PHASE-4 entity that me' 1994 so-called fictional book
called, “The Permission Barrier”
had as the character that sort of twin-paralleled the main character
from the Space Colony #256, or SC-256,
and before I had ever heard the name of CALLIO,
or the girl in that family along with her weird shop-running
grandmother and other original SARAH, making up
the initials of 'S' and 'C'. So again with that never ending
James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS), huh peeps? Of course
one of Sarah Callio is way more than enough, so they can all just
keep the other 255 of them, Mister Alex
dirthole Trupuke-beck, along with that MAJOR
FUCKING INSULTING DEATH BENEFIT OF THE SOCIAL SECURITY
ADMINISTRATION. Wanna' give me a mother fucking
goddamn break here, Mizz Margie Leo
from 1985?????
Yes
I totally forgot to block me' time on me' computer screen and typed
right through the 2:11 AM time, and remember folksingers
and Mike Sucks Folks out heredahelda and out HERE; that some
fucked up system in me' hacked up cum puke her won't allow me to ever
change the time to DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME, so during DST each fucking
year me' clock will always show up as an hour too slow on me' mother
fucking cum puke her screen-monitor! It wasn't the page digits that
were in danger of coming up as I already made lots of coloring line
blank pages that will later be highlighted and deleted once I am well
past half a dozen pages on this word document, but rather, it was the
cunt lapping time on the monitor screen, yo!
Yes
folksingers and folks, we will be getting a lot more seriously into
all the reasons and why's of junk that leads me to the incredible
conclusion that indeed, there really is a Jewelly
White, a Jim Pratt, and a PHASE
4 ENTITY REALITY, back inside of the mind bending Purgatory,
or (Astral Plane) if you will.
The foundations have more than been laid down now throughout the
nearly decade and a half long, and long
winded BLOGS OF THE MOUNTAINPEN, and you don't need to
call me a WINDBAG, as I know I am a damn windbag. But if I am not
providing tons and loads of powerful shit here peeps, then just how
can I ever hope to really properly build my incredible building atop
of the Windbag foundation of Morianity for Crissake????? For shit
this ultra huge folks, you really do need to
stay with me, and be vely vely non Mister McDowell Cooley Hall
PATIENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To quote the
great Japanese Ambassador shortly before the United States entered
into the World War ll, right directly following the bombing of the
Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii, speaking of MEMORIAL DAY HERE; “SO
SAHWEE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every mother fucking day
since I have moved into this rotten horrible cunt lapping building;
some prick across from me comes into that apartment, right at, or
right around three in the morning. Why anybody who lives in a welfare
shithole public housing project in the fucking cunt ghetto, would be
that perfectly dependable, is almost eery and scary; and I know they
are enemies of the goddamn MILITUFORCE
(M2F)!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
people, the character that my 1994 book called
“TPB” names as Julia White,
and later on after I had joined the great Eckankar Religion, for two
years from 1996 through 1998, if memory is adequately working and
serving me which it normally does; I renamed her to Jewelly
White, since on the Astral Plane, some of her Viqueen friends told me
that she is a lot more than just the Head Viqueen, directly under the
GREAT SARAH KRASSLE HERSELF, told
me that HER actual name, unlike in my 1994 Earthly book, is spelled
just that way. Also, just as my experience in December
of 1969 where Sarah Krassle HERSELF
told me her name and then even spelled it out, SARAH
with the 'H' letter, and then also
spelled out HER Krassle name, in this
1997 experience, while living in that
house of horror home that I had just purchased on Harvard Avenue, in
Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG, in late August of 1996; the name of Jewelly
White was spelled out to me by another Viqueen, who has
nineteen names, and her third one which in the CAPITOL
CITY of Sahasra Dal Kanwal or City
of the great Sarah Krassle, is always used as a main-name,
so in both of these powerful dreaming interactions/Astral trips, the
spellings as well as the pronunciations of these names were given to
me in a way that some HALLS FAWCE
absolutely wanted for me to have as a totally unmistakable truth! Now
it took years of doing my blogs and Morianity, for me to reach the
point where today, I have figured out as much as I have, and fully
completely realize that the Exploratronic
Supermind Society is real and so are the TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS
that makes it up, and also, that indeed, dreams are the spirit's way
of traveling into the 5th dimensional hyperspace. Then
putting all of the wild final parts together was merely simple
childsplay, such as the peeps in me' life, Patty Hollister, Paula
King, Melanie Safka, and Donald Trump, all fitting so damn perfectly
into this box of hellishness to the power of a thousand! There is
really no other way of explaining my entire life, if we do not use
the Morianity teachings told of now over these almost fifteen years
of blogs. Me' mother fucking SPACE-BAR-HACK
is off the wall bad, and has been for about two or three weeks now;
STATE POLICE
of Florida, FBI,
ACLU,
and any and all advocates
of the civil and constitutional
rights of totally disadvantaged
and impoverished American citizens,
such as the MOUNTAINPEN
for crying out fucking cunt loudspeaker LOUD, peeps!!!!!!!!! Jesus
Christ Almighty yo!!!!!!!!
I
not only knew when I got the fucking shit out of bed on late Monday
morning that shit would most likely get really bad later on because
of those wild GNAT-NIGHTMARES that CAME TRUE like 495-DIE and 594-EID
GAWKY THE LOTTERY CAT OF 1980, but also because me' mother fucking
right eye was blurry for no good reason. Yes I have cataracts but I
mean really fucked up. Still, after three hours or so, it totally
cleared up to my regular crappy fucked up vision, but this was not a
great indicator of a coming marvelous day, naut by any mother fucking
stretch, Miss lovely 1983 AT&T Blake!!!!!! I also did not tell
another wild part to that crazy gnat-nightmare before it ended, in
fact about somewhere in the very start of it. I have now had five
fucking DEATH ANGEL ASSAULTS,
and again, ALL five of them on my mother
fucking right side for some weird and wild reason!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Notice how when I listed them on me' previous fucking cunt blog, they
lessened and nearly stopped, yo? Yeah sure, I am just imagining all
of this mother fucking crazy ass shit, aren't I yo? In this other
wild part to the fucking cunt ass nightmare, I was back, as I have
been a lot lately in 2020, at the Oaklyn, NJUSAESMWG Dellway Arms
Apartments, and this was an incredible nightmare, as most of them are
when I am back there, just like that 2007
incredible experience that we ALL KNOW ONLY TOO WELL LED UP TO THAT
GREAT AND MARVELOUS TELEVISION SHOW IN EARLY-MIDDLE 2008 SOMEWHERE,
CALLED, “THE MENTALIST”, with that beyond cool dude, Sir Patrick
Jane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let us not even try to deny reality
here, folks. We all fucking know that THIS IS NO WAY THE RAVINGS OF A
DERANGED LUNATIC CRACKPOT, WITH DELUSIONS OF FUCKING CUNT GRANDEUR.
I was in me' bedroom in the apartment there, and things happened
there that are FAR BEYOND BEING 'BLOGGABLE' as I seemingly have
coined that worded expression on Morianity!!!!!!!!!! I will say only
this much for right now. If I am pushed too far, I will prove through
unbeatable pure logic just how dreams are all in some weird type of
an order whether we come to ever see it or not, and also that the
towel seepage deal is absolutely real and true. This mother fucking
broken or HACKED fucking SPACE
BAR, is beyond pussy huffing super annoying here, yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!
Years
before any one of you out here, unless I am speaking to an
NSA or CIA AGENT of course, ever heard
of FLASHMOBS OR HACKING, these things were happening to me. The
technology was there back in many of the final years of the 20th
century, only it simply was not being applied with the general
populous. I would have the fucking MILITUFORCE
do these things to me at old bank auto-teller machines, using what
then was called MACK CARDS. Dave Roth
and myself would continuously suffer through what we used to describe
to each other as MACK ATTACKS during
times of great WOMO OTTAMIC M2F DEATH SIEGE,
which was a vast majority of all of the times that we got together,
just as this same death siege today is MOST OF THE TIME. As for being
flashmob attacked by M2F enemies or agents or other paid off scum in
their secret GANG, yessir people, that happened with great frequency,
so much so that some of the times that we believed it was going down
around us while out together somewhere, it may well have been merely
coincidental weirdness. But we would go somewhere, and suddenly
out of the blue, and for absolutely no good or apparent reason; an
entire mob of peeps who were very hostile, would just suddenly be
there around us and have seemingly come literally out of nowhere just
poof, right out of nowhere. They all get a quick little
coded text message on their phones to be somewhere real quickly to go
on ops as a flashmob attack, and bang, it happened. We experienced
the MACK-ATTACKS and this FLASHMOB
assault on us literally ALL OF THE damn time, year in and year
out, and it was most definitely naut in our imaginations. Anyone can
see how life is relatively normal and then suddenly, it is absolutely
quite mother fucking totally different. You don't have to wonder
about it at all. All we wondered about was, “Are
we losing our mother fucking minds”, since this is all
happening without any doubt about it whatsoever, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
world; this blog book will get very seriously into the mighty
fictional 1994 book character of mine, Mizz
Julia (Jewelly) White and first off, David Roth and I
had a major blow out and disagreement back while I was residing at
Mizz Patty Meeker's rental
home, and before I had left there due to her selling of that
home, and then moved for my second time, into the Williamstown's
awesome and great HIGHVIEW Apartments. So shortly after moving into
my second stay at the Highview, I was out of contact with Dave and
this is a necessary item of information before I go onto tell you all
the next part to this and how it fits into the awesome character of
Mizz White as well as why sometimes she is referred to by me, this
blogger, MOUNTAINPEN; as Julia
White, while other times, as Jewelly White. During the time
that I had first made me' transition from Gibbsboro to WILL-I
AM-ST-OWN AKA Williamstown; I was living there and not in touch with
Sir David Roth until somewhere early in 1995 or maybe it was at the
end of 1994, since occasionally those type of dated memories, do
fade, and when they do, it always implies some type of major heavy
transdimensional activity ongoing around me and yes, you too only
none of you most likely believe me when I tell this to you all out
here now, yo BRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!! It seems, as I had later on learned
this after Sir 'DCR' and I were back in contact again, that during
that time of separation due to a serious argument back at Patty
Meeker's home before my move back into the Highview
Apartments; he had experienced an incredibly
unforgettable and extremely vivid nocturnal interaction (DREAM)
as most of you out here would of course simply choose to word it most
likely; and in this powerful 'DREAM', there was a wild female
character by the name of 'JEWELL', and all of this was happening
around the very same time circa as the security guard in Atlanta,
Georgia, also named Jewel, only a dude and not a girl; had his
trouble that made the news huge ass big time back in that era. All of
this fits together but is way too lengthy and complex to fully open
up right now on this CHAPTER #2, but we can get into the early
trimmings of the dream that Sir DCR had, and how it effects the great
“TPB” fictional book character of
just months ago, written by me, the great
Astral-Entity or Phase-2 character, at least THEN in human
world time-perspective; Mizz Jewelly-Julia WHITE. Now first off, this
dream starred David Charles Roth, a large 'groupation' of house-party
other characters, and Mizz JW. It took
place in a home on a courtesak if I'm spelling the word correctly,
you know, a street that dead ends into a circle with homes all around
it. The dream as he told it quite specifically and realistically, and
just as if he was describing a party that he had just literally and
very recently attended; was all contained in this large home where a
large private party was going on. DCR found himself at first talking
to a few of the other guests of the home and then without too much
elapsed time, he had opened a door and without actually going into an
adjoining room, realized that it was a kitchen, and a few peeps were
in there talking, and one of them being lovely tall 'Jewell', his
words, and naut mine, Mizz AT&T BLAKE,
mah'm. Many things were going on and he described the conversation
that continued on in his wild dream, in that home's kitchen; with him
standing silently in the doorway, and seemingly completely unnoticed.
After another short span of dream-time, he described as many dreamers
and me included also do from time to time in our DREAMS, how we
perceive as the following waking world memory, being told or suddenly
just knowing about something in the experience. In this particular
case, without anyone actually saying it, he just knew that indeed her
name was JEWEL and that he wanted to meet her because Dave like most
of us normal red blooded healthy males of a heterosexual persuasion,
loved the gorgeous ravishing gals, and that she was, and yes, THAT
SHE IS, as I too have met her since, in DREAMS as you'd all insist on
saying, and this is the mighty Astral Viqueen
who goes by 'Mini-Great Jewelly
White', with one name in-between the first and second
one shown above, and also lots of other names following both the
pre-WHITE name as well as after it, only I cannot pull up the memory
here in the waking world human life that I am now in while typing
this information out to all of you. But getting back to the sudden
knowing of her name, shortly thereafter, DCR described to me how
someone else suddenly was standing at or near this doorway into the
kitchen area of this home, and it was some dude, and he spoke aloud
saying, “And there's Jewel”! This is so important, because
several nights after Sir DCR told me about this dream that happened
shortly before I decided to brave up and give him a telephone call at
his home on Oakland Avenue in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, to see
if we could again be pals, as we did share an incredible amount of
horrendous things as in the old adage of 'misery loves company'; and
we also did gain a great deal of positive energy by just sitting
around complaining about how our MILITUFORCE enemies were totally
wiping out our lives, and also mapping out counter defensive
strategies for attempting to deal with their monstrous assaults, and
many ugly vulgar things that they were doing to us, and our totally
innocent fucking lives!!!!!! By the way, to quickly and hopefully
clear up any queries to the prefix before 'Mizz JW's' name on the
Astral Plane of existence; all of the great VIQUEENS
go by the prefix of MINI-GREAT, and
their absolute leader of course goes by THE
GREAT, and SHE of course is
Almighty SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE
and this is during all of the great Viqueen meetings held on Viqueens
Island at the Teck Bay Shores of the
great Capitol City of the great Capitol
Province of Olympia, in the great and inconceivable PURGATORY
or (ASTRAL-PLANE)!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to the wild dream,
Mister David Charles Roth, our
temporary separation, and then the name of JULIA
WHITE all fitting into the entire huge mess. This as
stated a few sentences back, is going to be way too gigantic and
huge, to even start explaining; but let me just crack the surface on
this blog here today yo!!! As more and more time continued to elapse
after we had become good friends again, and then shortly after that
when he had told me a wild dreaming experience that he had had
shortly before I called him to try and regain our friendship that was
temporarily suspended after a major disagreement and he had hung up
on me at the Gibbsboro home; I too was having
my memories of SARAH
KRASSLE shortly coming
back to me, as in those times, I had recently very early in January
of 1995, gone to a hypnosis clinic in Moorestown, NJUSAESMWG, and to
a hypnotherapist named Doctor Mark Wolf, and his hypnosis of me began
to bring back huge memories of my boyhood days with SARAH
on Tennessee Avenue, long after I had
grown into a middle aged man, and had put those memories all behind
me. This of course was all way too preplanned from before
the foundations of this world were even laid out in Eternity
(PURGATORY)
for this to not be just exactly what it was since this was all meant
to be, just as I said in my Sarah
song lyrics, shortly thereafter, when I wrote them on 12 May of 1996,
while still living in the Highview Apartments and shortly before
leaving there that late August, to move into the House
Of Horror DEATH HOUSE (HOH), at 112
Harvard Avenue, the intersection of Yale and Harvard Avenues,
in Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG! Something that
was said while under the hypnosis by the way folks, that was
definitely edited off of the taped copy that I had requested and was
given, was so mind bending, that Doctor Wolf's medical partner in the
practice at this main Street Moorestown clinic wanted no more to do
with me, sort of like the Pentecostal Church back in the
nineteen-seventies, since those times SO TOTALLY APPEAR TO FASCINATE
ME' AWESOME AND SUPER TALENTED DAUGHTER
SO DAMN MUCH!!!!! On the tape shortly before I said this incredible
thing, as that was all I was told; I did say another wild thing when
they tried to find out about past lives as most hypnotherapists are
also into life regression and past lives; I did say and only wish I
still had that tape today, “I was never
born”. Between that and this other thing that I said that I
have no way of knowing about other than “I
SAID IT”, and it scared these two docks out of their fucking
wits, but I came to learn that indeed, everything in my entire
nightmare life here presently as Mark Wayne Mohr, is all about none
other than the three trinidad-trinity items
of the incredible and endless MAGICAL TRI-3
REALITY: Sarah Krassle,
Tennessee Avenue, and Atlantic
City! So to quote the mighty man of so-called Elm, New
Jersey great wisdom sound-bites here, Sir Dennis Snyder, “And
that's just reality, son”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We
can all further move into the naming of JULIA-JEWELLY WHITE as we
proceed ever onward with many new blogs and books and chapters, and
writings. For right this minute here in present times, the conscious
waking world memories of all of this is in sections, as here in human
life, as you all know quite well by now hopefully, we have A TIME
DIMENSION, while in infinity or in the timeless Purgatory, there is
no TIME DIMENSION since there, spirit and not mind dictates our
awareness to the reality that surrounds us, and without MIND which
creates the SPACE-TIME fabric by literally making SEPARATION come
into being, then there can be no human dimensional system of (STM).
Even Sir Einstein only was given so much information. This is just my
own personal opinion now, but I think that if he had realized his
great equation of the speed of light squared changing material world
into spiritual world and vice versa by either multiplying or diving
one with the other, and that he needed to concentrate a lot more on
the part of this great equation's mathematical inverse than he ever
did, and thus we all never did either; then he may have well been
shown the truth of not only SPACE and TIME being truly a SPACE-TIME
fabric, but that everything in physicality is actually the reality of
SPACE-TIME-MIND. Without mind, there can be no separation in-between
times or spaces, and all would be a zero dimensional point of void,
waiting to open up into Astrality, and then 'later on' if you can
imagine half that truth alone, into the physical material cosmos that
we all live in right now. I only brought all this bullshit up because
in our TIME-DIMENSION it won't make sense to see the real truths, but
in REAL TRUTH without it, it all then comes very damn clear. First
came the early 1994 book, “TPB” written at Misses Patty Meeker's
rental home, and later copyrighted after moving into the Highview and
finishing up the final chapters in it there, and then sending it off
for ©, on 1994's great and magical HALLOWEEN DAY, none other!!!!!!!!
But when Julia White's character was being written of, the actual
dreaming experience that Sir DCR had much later on at the end of 1994
somewhere, had not of course happened to him yet, or so, to me yet
either. But in the truth of Astrality, those two separation points of
what we think humanly as time, don't matter one small tiny wee
fucking bit of an iota. Without coming to understand some of these
powerhouse things, this Morianity will always be for the most part
something between a huge gaping hole to most people, or perhaps
something between that and the endless fucking ravings of a Terry
Egg Harbor Resident of 2007 “SCATTERBRAIN”. The
only problem is that these words of MORIANITY
are indeed no such thing, and nothing of the kind, all rolled and
rapped up into one truth as well, oh folksingers, and FOLKS, and Mike
Sucks Corporation too, yo yo yo yo yo yo bro!!!!! Yes people, this is
only a more detailed opening and surface scratch to the great or at
least 'Viqueenally speaking', the MINI-GREAT JEWELLY WHITE. Then once
we open these lids up a wee tad bit more yo, I will then proceed to
discuss why I totally and absolutely believe that Patty
Hollister, Paula
King, and Melanie
Safka, have indeed been dream taken over or spiritually
term possessed, by this mind boggling and incredible entity, Mizz
Viqueen 'JW'! And yes, lately I am seriously wondering,
pondering, and cogitating on the very distinct possibility that also,
she is controlling from time to time, our great United States
President, Sir Donald John Trump!!!!!!!!!!
I have a whole lot of wild facts and true stories to impart to this
world, and some have been already told, but now in new light to many
things, I am sincerely hoping for many once darker things to become
more cleared up for the rest of humanity, or at least open up their
minds, or at least their potential
spiritual eyes, just enough to maybe, just
fucking maybe, entertain the remote possibility that this
Morianity could perhaps have some
very valid truths 'scattered around' inside of it, lovely
Terry 'Egghead Nonscatterbrain'!!!!!!!!
Now
peeps, just as the last BLOG-BOOK of Trump slowly torturing me to
death over nearly four decades of time along with his horrendous
henchmen from CROWN-COHEN-CORNWALL-CORONA-DOGTOWN-BRIGGBASE
(HELL), was not just about that, and it did include an 'entire
other-sections' to it not TRUMP related
or at least not directly; so too this BLOG-BOOK will not be one
hundred percent only on the topic of Mizz lovely Astral-Viqueen and
PHASE-4-ENTITY, Jewelly-Julia
WHITE. It will, just as all of me' BLOG-BOOKS do, be
discussing other things, other topics, and much other shit in
general, yo. So now going into something closely related of course,
but not some 'JW' direct topic; I need to further discuss the topic
of Jim Burr of Gloucester City, and neighbor to lovely Patty H.
Hollister H., as well as the introduction by him, to me, regarding
religion and Christianity, shortly after meeting him at the Cherry
Hill 'PCI' Computer School, back in the summer time of 1973, where
we were both becoming Programmers, on the 'then-state of the art'
computer system known as the International
Business Machines System #360, or the IBM-360; that huge
super clunker machine as big as a small house, and with very limited
and incredibly archaic abilities and features, by today's much more
technologically advanced status and ratings of currently available
computer science and high technology. Sir Jim Burr at first, was just
a very money thirsty man as was I in those times at the age of
eighteen years, and we talked on a daily basis about becoming
multi-millionaires, and in those times of 1973, this would translate
into today's purchasing power due to inflationary values of money,
into the word, “billionaire”. No world, I was not always a man
who could say and pass a polygraph while saying it, “I am not a
greedy person”. But all this horseshit is just simply leading me
and all of you right now, into the topic of so frequently discussed
religious philosophical connectiveness and how this all pertains to
the MOUNTAINPEN! After he had suddenly become a BORN AGAIN CHRISTIAN
as the expression goes, where a sinner accepts the Lord Jesus Christ
as their personal Lord, savior, master, redeemer, and the entire
twenty-seven feet of the thing; and then as a follower of Christ,
begin to slowly emulate the life of the great master-Jesus which of
course is a journey that is lifelong lasting right up until the brain
no longer is being sufficiently oxygenated, so to allow it to
continue dividing their true essence, by light speed squared; so they
can no longer tune into and become a part of the physical cosmos
world around them, and then they simply end their present dreaming
interaction, and are what they were and are all along; and thus
existing in the timeless Purgatory, where on this Astral-Plane of
spirit or energetic existence without the STM physicality; there is
no true connection between the physical plane or there before it all
blew out from what the HIGGS-PEEPS call the 'BIG BANG'. Mister Jim
Burr at first for about two months or so give or take, was the same
as me; looking to get a degree in the science field of Computer
Programming and becoming a “MULTI” millionaire. I will never
forget how I would say millionaire and he would always instantly
retort right back with the large emphasis on the word, MULTI! But
then two months or so later on from the exact time we met there, HE
SUDDENLY CHANGED and became a CHRISTIAN, and converted both me, and
shortly thereafter, my mom as well. My mom was always religious and
by her concepts, a Christian, but neither one of us ever heard the
real truth concerning the scriptural doctrine that insists that there
is but one way to the Capitol non CUBAN-'CUBED'
City of David, Sahasra Dal Kanwal, or “HEAVEN”, as the
Christians all call it, and that is that. Without Jesus's free gift
that is chosen by us to be accepted or rejected, we can never cross
into the great city in our endless ageless timeless existence on the
Astral-Plane or the Purgatory. Of course, without contrast being
employed as the ultimate punitive measure, it would never be the
absolute punishment that it is meant to be, so the great scriptures
are very careful to word things like this, but if all of them were
available and the mighty Roman Catholic original Church of our LORD
did not Canonize only sixty-six books for inclusion into the BIBLE,
you would all be able to see that I preach the powerful truths
concerning what I will now say to you here, yo. Before I tell you
more about that, why would any Astral City not be three dimensional
when all of Purgatory is indeed a three dimensional reality? This is
also further implied in the forbidden via Canon non-inclusion words
of other great books, where things such as the three gates on each
side are truly two gates on six sides that are leading into the great
city of SDK. But in continuing with the maxing out of punitation
through and by way of the laws of contrast, without truly seeing
HEAVEN or experiencing it on the ASTRAL-PLANE, how could those not
allowed to be there ever fully and completely appreciate their
quintessential horror and loss? In truth, the full Bible that none of
us are allowed to have in this world controlled and dominated system
of endless fucking power structures, where we get fed huge lies
about how the C-COPY of Goddess Almighty has shown those in charge of
making our present time BIBLES, which books and writings will be used
and which will be excluded by the great CHURCH-CANON-SYSTEMS. The
HOLY SPIRIT or God's C-COPY in the Trinity,
has done no such thing, and IPYT
peeps!!!!!!!!!!
So
yes, without experiencing HEAVEN or SDK the City
of the great Sarah Krassle,
where Astrally the word of “DAL”
is literally a groupation of residence, as in a village,
life-area, or city if enough population entities are existing there;
and if the city name is two words long, the word for city or DAL is
sandwiched in the middle or center of those two names, hence, City
(DAL) of the great SARAH KRASSLE, (Sahasra), and (Kanwal). Thus comes
the name of the Capitol City on the entire Astral-Plane, SAHASRA DAL
KANWAL, City of the great Sarah Krassle, LORDESS, SAR (LORD) ESS
connotes the feminine and creative symbology, with the Earth-English
pronounced word of 'NEE' which here on the Physical World in the
English Language system translates in sonic vibration to the word
“STAY” hence Jehovah-Neecy however the religious scholars spell
it, becomes 'LORD' or 'SAR'-AH STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE of the great
KRASSLE clan of Sahasra Dal Kanwal. The great religion of 'Sound and
Light', called “ECKANKAR”, has many followers, who have indeed
seen and witnessed, while still on this Physical-Plane of human life
and inside of their human bodies; that great
condition-interaction of HEAVEN!!!!!!!!!! but let me finish
out my point regarding how using contrast and taking that to its
ultimate for maxed out punishment, is indeed the proof that even
sinners and wicked peeps have seen and experienced the great Capitol
City of SDK (HEAVEN). On this
Earth-Planet we have a great sports pass-time here in America, and
now in some other parts of the globe as well; called BASEBALL. And in
this magical game of electrical symbology that is all about the great
electrical number of nuclear-3, as in nuke families of mom, dad, and
child, or electron, proton, neutron, and you all get the picture by
now hopefully; the batter up gets three chances to try getting on
base with a hit, a walk, or even to help already base-runners on his
or her team make further advancements around to home-plate, so the
team can score. But if the batter tries and fails by the rules of the
game, three consecutive times; he or she is OUT. Now on the
Astral-Plane, the numbers of 3 and 4, have a wild interconnectiveness
that allows extremely enlightened peeps here on the Physical Plane of
'life', to see mathematical truths, and decoded messages in life, as
a result of this scramble. Now one of these scrambles is the four
allowable
deportations
out of the Capitol City of those entities without proper legal
documentation that includes both a CITY-NAME REGISTRATION in
the SDK CITY HALL that is Biblically referenced many times in
scriptures as the “Lambs book of life”
in HEAVEN, as well as a document that
all Astral entities carry with them. Trying to imagine all of this in
a maze of endlessly swirling channels of emotions and colors,
beyond any fathomable reason on the living world here; is
impossible for peeps to ever do, unless
they've experienced it, and have some recalled memories; as do I.
There are ROUND-UPS done at no particular intervals, and sooner or
later, unauthorized entities are caught and escorted outside of the
great city and over onto the other side of the great TECK BAY. Just
as in our human world game of Baseball, the first time that an entity
is deported out of SDK, is called, “STRIKE-1”, the next time is
2, then 3; and finally comes STRIKE-4.
Strike four is not a simple deportation however. It
carries an automatic beyond frightening nightmarish punishment called
on the Astral-Plane or the Purgatory, a “DOGTOWN
SENTENCE”. The typical
sentence for a STRIKE-4 ROUND-UP deportation is three sets of 6-MK.
MK is Minnina Kalpa, which means on the Astral-Plane, approximately
what 888 mortal world years would feel like in averaged and overall
Astral interactions. Remember there is no time in Astrality, nothing
ever comes before or after anything else, and so nothing is ever
beginning nor does anything ever end either. Because escape is
absolutely impossible, the DOGTOWN SENTENCES are allowed to be broken
up into anywhere between three to five sets that can be served with
in-between breaks or periods of interaction-intermission so to speak;
and the term there does get used by lots of entities. I remember that
only too well. So three different series of interactions that seem
mortally to our human minds as 888 times 6
years, in a place or really a 'condition-interaction' so
horrendous, that one minute there, or one million years there; would
in all honesty not even seem that much different, due to the
intensity of the suffering!!!!!!!!! First off, the stench is beyond
'horrible'; oh lovely Mizz
Borgia, of the great Earthly 'L&O' TV-show. On top of
that, we are turned into creatures with huge mega sensitive noses,
1000 times more powerful than our human noses. The temperature feels
about what 123 degrees Fahrenheit would feel like as a human being.
There are work-fields where we (DOGS) have to stand on our hind legs,
and with our front paws, pick up sheers that feel as if they would
weigh about 70 pounds on the Earth-Realm, and hewn down lots of wild
thick stalks of horrific smelling grows, that are over three feet
tall, and about ten inches thick, and nearly as hard as tree trunks;
and this goes on and on, what feels like maybe a week of day and
night; and then we go to the pound type dormitory, where only one in
about ninety or so times, we get to lay and rest for maybe an hour,
or what seems like an hour here on mortal terms. The other 89 times,
we are sent out of the 'pound-dorm' into the torture area, where
endless rows of gigantic pinball type machines and huge table tennis
ping-pong looking 3-D boxes are used, to place us inside of, and then
horrible sharp edged paddles begin to whack at us while we all
attempt to do break-dances to avoid it, that even the
great 'moon-walker' himself, Sir Mike Jackson, wouldn't be
fast enough, or good enough, to keep on avoiding all of those
terrible and horrible paddles of inconceivable agony! As for the
pinball huge machines, we are literally inside of them and then the
guards pull on that spring knob just as in the pinball marbles here
on the mortal realm; only we go flying all
throughout the insides of these areas, and get cut to pieces on razor
sharp metals and glass fragments that instantly fill the
entire area with our blood! But it gets far
worse, as then, each individual piece that eventually becomes
sheered off and separate, is us as a whole, and they all feel in
their own way, the same total agony, and then each part of ourselves
gets afflicted with this beyond excruciating and intense suffering,
and there is no lapsing into unconsciousness on
the Astral
Plane. This goes on what
seems like three days and nights, and then it is right back to the
work-fields and this cycle then continues around, over and over
again. I have now experienced about twenty or more death angels since
doing this blog, and just now, this final time, it is on my left
side. All the other death angel attacks are on my right side, and
this is now two straight days where Mortimer Mortino is favoring me'
right side, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yessir, without
the contrast of HEAVEN, even the horrendous DOGTOWN or Biblical
(HELL) would not be quite as bad. It is that POWERHOUSE FUCKING
AWESOME CONTRAST that makes the absolute and epitomized difference,
folks!!!!!!!!! And screw your damn folksingers; Mister
Microsoft Corporation Hellwrecker, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” to the great and ever so mighty,
Sir Shoeknockeroutter Chester-Frank of Jersey! WOW-WOW-WOW THAT,
LOVELY BIG-O!!!!!
When
I went out yesterday late afternoon to escape me' nabe from Dogtown
next door to me in unit #605, Mister Mexico, I as you know from
reading the previous blog, parked for about a half hour or so at the
Indian River near the now closed down due to the Global Pandemic,
Fort Pierce Library. When I shut off the car, the odometer read
89,089 miles. I could have sworn that the odometer read over 90,000,
and if you remember from several blogs back, I posted as much. Hey, I
can be off and I am not Bruce Pennock or cursing Bruce “PERFECT”
by any stretch of the mind. Still, interesting figure to see on the
damn odometer and since I rarely look at it, as I do not go out very
much nor have I the past nine years since I've lived here in this
great and illustrious ghetto-hood of Fort Pierce, FLUSAESMWG. Still,
I happen to just glance at it after parking and shutting off the car
engine, yesterday, and with a ZERO digit in the center, it made the
two opposing polarity-ends both read the magic future-times number,
as per my song lyrics from the start of the nineteen-eighties, on the
“Love Is For Carpenters” song. Yessir, I may only be human, and
not perfect, cool cursing Bruce, with so many fans of yours now with
their pity parties for you; but I do find it more than just
interesting that I just see the odometer reading at this totally
'PERFECT',
AND 'ONLY HUMAN'
TIME; displaying two 89's. One on each side of the equation or
the zero; huh Mister David Leigh Algebra
Smith Sir, of that great, and endlessly illustrious Cooley
Hall????!!!!????!!!!????!!!! So
THANK-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, Sir
Bruce non-Lennox, at the Pennock's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
& WOW 2-THIS.
Yessir, I may not have peeps feeling sympathy for me in all of my
mother fucking rotten hellish DOGTOWN ON
EARTH, but I'm glad that me' ol' Cooley Hall pal Sir Bruce
AP does, and he really does, at least according to the early second
decade reports stemming from the WFMU-INTERNET-RADIO
system, under the crackpots and crazy cursing dudes of Mark
Mountainpen Mohr, on their hate-page for me that most likely will be
floating in the crystal-clouds throughout human level eternity, give
or take an eon or so. Yessir, Mister Bruce
Alan Pennock
Sir, your initials can always be 'JRSS'd' as standing for the
BETTER-ASTRAL-PLANE!
I suppose it is better, but at least my cheese loving hyperspace
daughter on that Starburn property in the great Quaker State of
Pennsylvania's hyperspace in the one and only USA; is not asking me
to do her any favors by not talking so much or complaining really,
about ugly, lousy, stinky, slinky, slimy, slippery, sleazy, slithery,
spotted, dotted speckled stench-filled alligators! I detest those
serpents, those reptiles, those filthy diseased lizards from Dogtown
itself who may have used physical projection initially to get to
Florida through the Bermuda Triangle, from the mighty
Purgatory!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, I'll do you this favor, Merry. Sorry
about Halloween when you were five and a half. Why I was possessed to
do three copyrighted
musical projects on Halloween
Day, is anybody's
BEST GUESS of any and all GUESTS, lovely PINK GODDESS from the great
GALAXY'S EDGE, and any and all high tech computer companies whose
executives and owners IMHO; are totally
and absolutely dream-controlled, and manipulated, by
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS of more
distant hyperspace points! Yes, the magical lands and realms of the
great CRYSTAL-GODS. Morianity has shown you all the various ways of
traveling to the Earth-Realm from the
Astral Plane,
or the “other-Harrah non-Sarah”, Sir
B. Alan Pennock.
So who's to ever fucking totally say with full on authority and
absolute wisdom and 'knowing', that the REPTILLIONS that many peeps
in the AAT CLUBS and societies around the globe think of as part of
the ALIENS who visit our EARTH-PLANET, did not use the
electromagnetic 'natural fielding systems' surrounding all planets,
or at least any living planet that is seemingly capable of sustaining
a magnetic field, that the citizens of northern-lands around the
world all see at night from time to time, as the Aurora
Lights for crying out
loudspeaker-LOUD, yo yo yo yo??? Who is to say for sure
that these damn lizard serpents didn't
CROSSOVER to here from the PURG, through the damn Bermuda
Triangle, and ended up in good old nearby swamplands of hot tropical
mother fucking rotten ass RED-STATE-FLORIDA-USA,
YO YO YO YO YO YO, ME' BROADCASTED BRO???!!!!!
Now
to quote lovely GIANT GINA, when
she informed me that she would very easily be able to pin me right
down in an arm wrestle strength test, and then, that lovely Amazon
Beauty Queen went onto do just that:!!!!!!!
I also “TOLD
YOU” all that after yesterday's brutal fucking
elder abuse assault and persecution on me, by ENEMY
NABE FROM DOGTOWN MISTER MEXICO-#605, THAT THE DOW
JONES I.A. STOCK MARKET WOULD TOTALLY AND ABSOLUTELY FLY TODAY,
TUESDAY; AND SURE ENOUGH IT MOTHER
FUCKING PUSSY HUFFING DID JUST THAT. Ouch, my goddamn
broken arm, lovely Gina, and
lovely Keisha, from 1998 and 1999
respectively; and if I wish to keep all of me' bones in a nice
unbroken manner, then let me add in here; 'respectively', as well as
definitely 'RESPECTFULLY' too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
'SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO', a great big HUUUUUUUGE 'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE',
for the marvelous powerhouse Sir
Chester-Frank Shoeknockeroutter of the year 2000. Am I
right, Mister Paul Evans Pedersen, kind sir????????? Yeppir folks;
the DJIA markets gained well over 500 points
today, AND JUST AS I DAMN TOLD YOU GINA, AND ALL OTHER
WONDERFUL GREAT BLOGAUDIANS OUT HERE, BACK ON YESTERDAY, AND YOU ALL
KNOW THAT THIS ICPE-APE-TECH IS
ABSOLUTELY REAL, AND TRUE; AND BEING
ILLEGALLY USED TO TORMENT VICTIMS SUCH AS POOR
FRAIL FRAGILE PITIFUL AND PATHETIC MISTER MOTHER FUCKING
MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
6:57
PM, MONDAY, 25 MAY. 2020
SUPER
BOTBAR HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY
CONTINUING
PATTERN NOW OF 34+ YEARS
THIS
IS MEMORIAL DAY OF 2020-HELL
JEWELLY
WHITE AND HER FOUR POSSESSED EARTHLY PERSONAS
CHAPTER
1
I
FELL UNDER ANOTHER HORRIBLE MOTHER FUCKING SUPER DEATH SIEGE ASSAULT
AND MAJOR ELDER ABUSE, AT APPROXIMATELY A QUARTER PAST FOUR,
ON THIS TOTAL
GODDAMN-ASS
DISAFSTERNOON, ME' GREAT AND AWESOME FOLLOWERS AND
PEEPS! Well, really, there is one follower, and the rest of the
pageviews come from 'ONLY THE LORDESS
KNOWS'; LOVELY LIEUTENAT VAN
BUREN, OF 'L&O'. I will be numbering and timing for
the record, the DEATH ANGEL attacks on
this blog. This is DEATH ANGEL ATTACK or DAA-1, RS (RIGHT SIDE OF
ME). So I'll record it for quicker action here, DAA-1-RS-7:08
PM. The next one that I get during the typing of this blog,
will be 2, and then the time will be
listed along with either LS or RS,
for left or right side, that this annoying prick ass shit-head passes
me by on, yo! No world, it aint' mother fucking EASTER PASSBY (OVER)
but it is goddamn Memorial Day! In any event, none of my friends are
in any shops anywhere, here, or in Atlantic City's great north
central area of Tennessee Avenue. Doors are annoying me since I
started this blog, but that wasn't the major persecution and
harassment on me today. That of course as always is reserved for the
illustrious Mister Mexico in Unit #605, but for all I know, IT IS HIM
WITH THIS DAMN CONSTANT SLAMMING DOOR OUT THERE AS WELL. More times
than not, when a particular person is harassing me, it goes on, in
one form or way, or another one, ALL GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING DAY LONG
AND WELL INTO THE NIGHT TIME AS WELL!!!!!! Yessir world, that dirt
bag blasted me out of my apartment at about a quarter past four this
afternoon, an hour later than when he has been following his recent
pattern for several weeks now, and when I got home at a few minutes
after six, it had gone off! Still, he totally sent my mother fucking
otherwise peaceful day into a MAJOR SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR (Bottom Of
The Barrel Already Rated).
CNN
reports that there are just under eight
million Donald Trump Twitter-Followers. Before anyone ever
wonders why, especially when we all know without a doubt, that his
breath to lie ratio
is almost one for one,
despite Sir Know-It-All Mister Elm, New
Jersey Snyder, telling me in 2007; that he is honest and tells
only the truth. Now there really is no great shock value to this
number here. We all know that the new culture that began shortly
after the invention of television, and other asinine absurdities
pertaining to both it and the celebrities that for the most part it
created; brought into being the magical CELEBRITY
FACTOR, and before going on here, we
have, or I do anyway, DAA-2-RS-7:30 PM.
So along with that (CF) situation that
mostly was a co-ingredient of television, are the three basic parts
to a pie that yells out as a brand new age reality, that if someone
is either super wealthy, a big celebrity, or a top political entity
that normally was reserved only for a President, but any of these
three items would bring someone not just fame in the old way that
many of us remember the word to truly depict, but the weird new shit
as well, where people will read anything they say and many times
believe it as true, simply because it was spoken by a person who is
super wealthy, or a top dog in the entertainment world, which in the
past four decades or close to it, has come to include sports
characters as well as political figures. Trump is of course, a huge
three for three in this power house structure of so-called greatness.
He can lie every other word, and insult all of us continually, and be
the biggest criminal of all, surpassing Nixon's Watergate shit
literally by a ten to one ratio or more, and yet, pow, the magical
POST-TV new age shit kicks in. Me on the other hand who is telling a
true story of a suffering person at the hands of great powerful peeps
such as Trump and many other high profile scum bags; gets totally and
completely ignored. I have one follower. The one on the bio-page is
just me. I was trying to do something back a decade or so ago and it
came out as my own follower. The other one is a legitimate follower.
But one? After telling a story such as mine, and I have one follower?
Now that is beyond unbelievable, but not beyond the basic reasoning
structure of this new age and its new ways in which peeps like me get
closed down, shut up, and covered up, forgotten, severely injured and
wiped out, and totally murdered by sub-scum peeps who are lower than
any whale shit in the recorded history of humankind. I
have one follower, and Trump has nearly 80,000,000, and that tells me
another thing. There is an ancient and very wise
fucking philosophy that details without any room for speculative
doubt as to what it is talking about and making reference to. Jesus
our great Lord and Master said it as well. If we are liked and
accepted here by sinful residents of this world, then we must be
doing something wrong as would be measured in the realm of truth and
spirit. I suppose our great disco queen giant, lovely Donna
Gaines
Summer took that more into
a modern way of saying it when she would say that, “If
you don't like cats and dogs and kids, there's got to be something
wrong with you somewhere”. Not only was she correct, but she
was echoing the deeper truths, that we can indeed judge our true
inner heart or deeper soul, or whatever any of you would wish to
describe this as; by certain things such as major acceptance by other
sinners, verses being scoffed at by them, and which really and truly
is better in the very long running play truths of infinity! Yes the
great self-declared Almighty Donald John Trump is a multibillionaire,
he is also world famous and was before he even ran for the office of
President, and now on top of all of that, he is as anyone who's
graduated from grammar school knows as true, the most powerful person
on the Planet-Earth because he is the President of the United States
of America. So we have all three slices of the pie, wealthy,
celebrated personality, and now the 45th President as
well. So how can he lose? Go ahead, you tell me, anyone out there?
On
the total concentric and opposite side of Mister
Trump, is poor little innocent Mister
Mountainpen, who is under the most powerful nightmare family
curse in the creation of this universe and beyond; the great ugly
mother fucking HUNTINGTON CURSE for
crying out louder than shit on a hot roof shingle! A couple days ago
give or take, on the cable-TV, one of the channels was playing the
'L&O-SVU' reruns, I think it was
Saturday afternoon, on the great 'ION
NETWORK' that is shown here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA,
on Comcast
Channel
#7. The lovely Annie Potts was in it who played a reporter in
an old eighties great Christmas movie, and the title of the episode
is called, “Rockabye”. The
cable-info showed the date to be 11-22-2005. This show is a super
mother fucking perfect example of the totally concentric opposite
Mountainpen, from the mighty DJT, depicting how through not only no
fault of my own, but that hard as I try endlessly, I am being
thwarted and stopped at every single fucking turn from absolutely
every single thing that I ever have tried to do in this life, and
then on top of that, after all of everything goes to total mother
fucking hell, I THEN GET BLAMED FOR IT ALL, AND I AM ENDLESSLY
PROCLAIMED AS THE CRIMINAL, THE BAD GUY, THE DIRT BAG, and on and on!
In this episode on the L&O-SVU show, the part of me is played by
the pretty actress by the name of Lauren
Westley. Also in this story, her guy in the show has the exact
same name as my father, Wayne Martin.
Imagine that one, James Greatdude Redfield, sir! The great Latengrate
Senator Fred Thompson guest stars in it as he does on quite a few of
the L&O-SVU shows, playing the Manhattan DA (District Attorney).
The plot is too lengthy for me to want to type it all out here, and I
don't have the needed permission from the great Sir Dick
WOOOOOOOOOOOLF to do it either, so let me keep things all abridged
and compressed and then simply tie in my point here; folks and
fucking folksingers! Lauren Westley was trying in every way that she
could to get an abortion. Since this is a hot button topic, I am not
harping on the moral or religious issues of abortions here, but I am
saying that she was screwed with in every way possible, and she had
every legal right at first, before the deadline where an abortion
cannot be legally performed had gone by. She was intentionally
thwarted over and over, when she desperately needed to do it, so if
you have a problem with the plot in the show on that matter, then
simply change it to some other thing in your mind so that I can now
make my point here on this fucking blog! No matter what she did, she
was STOPPED, and then SHE WAS BLAMED when it was not one bit her
fault. If anyone gets a copy of this show and watches it, I want you
to now do one simple thing. I want you to take this ONE THING, and
then imagine an entire lifetime of endless things that are way beyond
the ability to accurately count or remember them all, all happening
TO ANY OF YOU. Then tell me how much you would enjoy being me!
I
knew that my period of quiet would soon end after major nocturnal
interactions occurred with me recently. I have had unfathomable
nightmares with being back at Jenny Plageman's Hell-Trailer in
Berryville-Hammonton, 1802 Robin Hill, Oaklyn at Dellway Arms, and
Haddon Hills of Donna Gaines and Marilyn
Hyperspace Macoo, AKA the 5th
Dimensions! I have recently learned that the Gaines family
INDEED has blood relations with the McCoo 'darker branches' as they
have lighter branches as well, and this is most likely somehow the
mysterious connections to why lovely Disco Donna went over to Munich
Germany to do that 'HAIR ALBUM' that I was given a copy of while
employed at the RPL Sound Recording Studio of Camden, NJUSAESMWG back
in the early autumn time in the year of 1980. But back to my recent
weekend major NIGHTMARES, STRAIGHT OUT OF THE GATES OF DOGTOWN, AT
THE DOGTOWN STENCH-BRIDGE of the inconceivably odoriferous! The rumor
going around about the “afterlife being a place of bad smells” is
of course not true, if I can quickly add in a footnote here. If
someone does have Astral memories of horrible smells, it is because
your spirit
is signaling your consciousness to remember areas in the Olympian
Province, in or close to HELL, or DOGTOWN. This of
course is why Dogtownites are given those huge super sensitive noses,
so they can even greater suffer with those surreal stinks of
indescribable hellishness!!!!!! But back now to the nightmares. It
has gone in a serial way for about four times now, very much like my
experience while living at the CHILD MOLESTER'S home on Cornwall
Avenue, Mister Thomas J. Reale, of Ventnor, NJUSAESMWG, back in 1970.
In these nightmares, Ron Wirtz Senior, ADA of the Camden County
Prosecutor's Office in New Jersey who was helping me with my
nightmare hellish shituations from the end of 1989 until the middle
nine-teen-nineties, and then Sheriff Ken J. Mascara of Saint Lucie
County in Florida, he too is in this nightmare with Sir Ron Wirtz,
and then there also was the one and only lovely Ann King as well!!!!!
Last night was beyond horrible. The three of them were sitting at
some table in a parallel world where no Corona Virus was plaguing the
planet in 2020, and suddenly the lights went out and came back on in
about three seconds. When they came back on however, they had turned
into huge gnats. They began to fly around my face and began shouting
at me that my blogs were doomed to fail and that I was a dead man.
When I came out of this putrid mother fucking monster nightmare at
approximately four minutes past eleven of the clock this
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, three huge flying gnats were in my
face, just LIKE IN THE MOTHER FUCKING NIGHTMARE. The
trash chutes are busted for the fourth time in my PH-BUILDING, and
the trash outside in the dumpster is always piled up high with lots
of hungry rats all over feeding on it. Nobody cares
about the poverty stricken downtrodden oppressed peeps of America.
Not a single mother fucking cunt eating solitary rotten asshole soul,
yo yo yo! For the past several days I have been too lazy to take out
me' daily trash, so that has attracted some flies and gnats. America
totally fucking cunt SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Around
just past three on Friday afternoon, I was given a nasty ass mother
fucking dick throbbing major DIAREAH ATTACK, and barely made it into
me' toilet with needing to do an after-party-clean up job!!!!!!!!!!!!
Other than for this, things were passable, but the nightmares are
always a great fucking cunt poker-tell, and IPYT folksingers and
fucking cunt Microsucks FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DAA-3-RS-8:40
PM. All three now on me' fucking cunt right side, yo
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!! SO WOW-THAT, lovely BIG-O!
Me' mom worked too late to get home to watch the show, but thanks for
the post card, lovely girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wish, Microsucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, a big ass WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, huh
Arthur Crane and Chester-Frank Shoeknockeroutter
SIRS???????????????????????? DAA-4-RS-8:43 PM.
Four now and all on the right side. WOW THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS,
lovely Erica snakes Cane of 1983. Hey, I
learned a few things from good old weetahd
Wendy, from Cooley Hall,
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I didn't need any of
me' groupation of Wendy girl's to tell me how the first three years
of the 'BOM-BLOGS' must have made
some weelwee damn big ass HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE
impressions on me' lovely talented daughter!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
Sir Mike McNulty.
I
only wish that Sir James Tiberius Burr
were here, and helping me to gain some large amounts of needed
credibility so that me' words may go a wee bit further in making me'
many fucking necessary points to the Earth-Planet's wildly
dumbed-down populations. He would tell you all some shit so huge and
incredible about me, and shit that he witnessed and was a part of;
even though he may not like to do it or to admit to any of it. He,
unlike Donnie
boy #45 Trump who's indeed trumped us all, and just as
I predicted he would do all throughout this MORIANITY BLOGGING
PROJECT FROM THE SWING FUCKING BAT; WOULD NAUT LIE ABOUT ANY OF IT,
MIZZ LOVELY 1983 AT&T BLAKE,
MAH'M!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IPYT, yo! He knows about my family,
and he seemed to know some wild and intimate details about the family
curse, perhaps even on BOTH SIDES OF THIS HUNTINGTON/MOHR NIGHTMARE
HORROR HOUSE OF HELL!!!!!! He would proclaim if here, that times have
altered in ways that I
TOLD HIM THEY WOULD, and all the shit around us all
right now, I told him would all most likely happen, and he just sat
there laughing quite raucously at me, as he had a real honest Dark
Shadows-Count Andreas Petofi LAUGH, let me tell you all right now, yo
bro!!!!!!!!!!!! Yessir world; Jim Burr knows some really true
powerful shit, and naut just about me, or even me' goddamn wild
family and the interconnections to the mighty and ever illustrious
WASHCLOTH FAMILY OF ASTRAL MAFIAS EVERYWHERE, but he also knows some
mind bending Marcucci other truths pertaining to the entire globe and
all the shit going down right this fucking cunt little minute all
around us all!!!!!! That is of course people, if
Jim Burr is still amongst us here, on this PHYSICAL PLANE OF HUMAN
LIFE! Who can ever know such things unless they are
part of the CRYSTAL-GODS who have silently taken over our planet,
making sure that we went from the middle eighteen hundred's
telegraph, to the telephone, to the radio, to the television, to the
computer, to the internet, to the social media, to the cloud, the
merging cyborg reality of the 22nd
century, soon to come, huh lovely
Mizz 1994 National Park Redbank, NJUSAESMWG, Mizz Rosalie at the
park, and not PARKS; but still, that endless
fucking JRSS
never ever DIES!!! That is better than the phoney
hoaxes of present day religion and GOD, who is of course, quite dead,
the way that people think of it anyway, you know, bearded white
haired grand pappy with loving hands and powerful stone imaged waving
control over the elements. Wanna' cut me a mother fucking big ass
break here, lovely Mizz 1985 Margie Leo
girlfriend, and also Sir Mike Sucks GIRL????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
yes; with or without names of my father, being set up to fail, Cooley
Hall Dave Smith's great mathematical blackboards, and any other phase
four math teachers and blackboards; this is not just accomplished
with the realms of electronic wizardry as told by both myself and my
daughter who of course doesn't recognize herself as such; but yes,
that is indeed a powerful way for powerful fucking rotten enemies to
accomplish their power-monger greedy sick goals in their human lives.
Jim Burr knows how all these things are done, or to quote him in all
of this from long ago; “Mark, we can talk about it any way you want
to, but truth is always going to be truth, and you can say to me that
you're an elephant but it won't make you an elephant”. He was
correct. Still, there is a lot more to this topic than just saying
and speaking lots of untruths. Trump understands the mechanics to
this powerful art form, and so do I; and I wanted one dark night to
explain this very same art form to me' pal Sir David Roth over at the
Highpoint Military-Ops-Games field that Dave named 'Highpoint' in or
right near Warren Grove, NJUSAESMWG. This was the old stomping ground
area of the now also Latengrate, Sir Kenny Countrymusicman
Rogers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
THAT'S
ALL FWOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA AND WABBIT!
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