BOM-BLOG-BOOK NAMED: JEWELLY WHITE'S 4 DPEP

AND YOU ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 18

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MARK YANCY ZERANNISS JONES, RAMBUNCTIOUS LOVELY WHITTLE MERRY, AND THE 'GARAGE-MAN OF MYSTERY'!

MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR

2:28 POST MERIDIAN

MONDAY AFTEROON

JUNE 8, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

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MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

MONDAY, JUNE 8, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WANING GIBBOUS 3:7

N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.

Yes people, there is no such thing as a BIBBOUS MOON, but there most definitely is indeed such a thing as typographical errors, or for am acceptably shortened abbreviation here, “TYPOS”. So folks, I'm so 'SAHWEE', and you too, all great NON-toothpaste Japanese Ambassador's of the great nightmare era of last centuries forty's decade, WORLD WAR ll. Yessir, I have made the needed corrections to the word for larger lunar phases in-between half and full moon phase. So to quote Sir Chester-Frank here, yo, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!!! In truth, I meant to type in “GIBBOUS”. Take it away here for us, Mister 1971 Mike McNulty, oh great kind sir/kid, from me' past hellishness which was nothing when and if compared with me' adult life hellishness, yo! I took care, and I toothpaste care I guess, Mike Soft, of Mizz Skunkweedsdigits-Jane and typed in my ten pages of blank coloring-lines, so I won't be struck by Mizz Not Fond a her one whittle bit for what she did to me in 1993's great Atlanta Brave's Georgian Baseball Park, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

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

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

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

and VIVA MORIANITY!

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

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WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

[ 8 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr demo tunes.

PAu000325091

1981

WOW-WOW-WOW!!!!!

THIS IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!

OH LORDESS SAR-ESS-AH, WHY ME SWEETIE-PIE?

And then came Cooley 'HallOWEENTOWN' HALL, oh mighty goddamn Mister Microsoft Corporation Spellchecker, sir. If lovely Misses Marola hadn't absolutely insisted that year of 1969, that I be in that stupid ass school play, then I would have arrived on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, at a completely different time, and most likely would NEVER HAVE HEARD LOVELY SARAH NEECY KRASSLE say to those friends of her people, who came zooming down the street in their car and parked outside of her shop there, “Your friends are in the shop”. Why is this so damn important, you wonder? Just know for right now peeps, that it is very damn important; just as when she said that other thing on that same street, to either Paula King, or one of her gal-pals there, “I'm darker than you are”. As for Misses Marcucci, I only had her as my 'educator' for a few days that week in very early January of 1970, when her hubby was feeling a bit under the weather, or maybe it was just under the tunnels of great Liverpool, England; huh there Lizzy-Queen? So just who is the MILITUFORCE, and just why do they hate me so much, and just what about me are they so goddamn mother fucking afraid of, that they had to dedicate THIS MUCH ENERGY AND TIME in attempting and succeeding may I add, in wiping out my entire fucking life for CRISSAKE? So let's weelwee fucking cunt examine this one thing that just never gets harped on too much, since I am normally way too busy complaining about all sorts of very specific items actually being done to me on a daily basis, by this extremely diseased scumbag MILITUFORCE for crying out fucking Fontana louder than dogshit squared!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Providing I am not just fucking nuts, and I know that I am not but you don't of course, so I'll just have to do a 'L&O Jack McCoy' here and 'Live with that', but folks; if indeed I'm as sane as the judge as the old saying goes, then somebody SURE IS SPENDING A WHOLE LOT OF FUCKING CUNT TIME, EFFORT, AND ENERGY IN WIPING OUT THE LIFE OF ONE POOR PITIFUL SO-CALLED TOTALLY INSIGNIFICANT SPECIAL-ED KID FROM THE SIXTIES, YO YO YO YO YO YO, and did any of you out there EVER mother fucking cogitate on THAT ONE??????????

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[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989

Yessir, the established patterns of persecution that have been done to me for an entire mother fucking lifetime, is beyond unfathomable. But it is the truth and it is reality, nonetheless. Also what is true and real and beyond any real meaningful opposing arguments is that there indeed, as so many law enforcement connected peeps have told me, is no reason at all in the world for what is happening to me, and also, if I had peeps this 'Scott Ransom disgruntled' with me as was told to me by that great realtor dude in those days and times of the Epitome of Harassment musical project copyrights; then WHY HAVEN'T THEY JUST KILLED ME??????????? Well, this blog has recently gone out of its way to offer up a possible reason for the why didn't they just kill me part, as it seems that I am even ahead of Morris the Cat as far as infinite lives that seemingly cannot be lost, or in other words, how do I know that THE MILITUFORCE HASN'T FUCKING TRIED TO KILL ME MANY MANY TIMES. How can I ever know for sure whether I am switching from one part of 5^th dimensional hyperspace to another, such as back on August 2, 1996 at the Turnersville Pathmark Shopping Center Parking Lot with that horrible man from India in his lime green colored van. How do I know which reality that my spirit or energy essence is attaching itself to, at any given point in 4-D/5-D reality of higher-truth?
Maybe he killed both my mom and me on that day, SOMEWHERE, as quantum dynamic equations of the great scientific community would proclaim that somewhere in the 5^th dimension, he did, and maybe I always reattach to locales where I escape my death as let's face it, having a talent or a 'GIFT' like that, although others would indeed envy it and call it a great gift, we all know in pure truth the label of such a nightmare, and that is DOGTOWN, or you would call it, HELL!!!!!!!!

Yes, I wonder what Frankie Avalon may say about all of thissssssssssss; lovely Mizz Erica Snakes Cane Lucci, I mean, WEELWEE???!!!!

The great one and only DOCTOR CAREY:

(AND ABSOLUTELY 100% CONNECTED INTO ELECTRIC BLUE SMOKES)!

Anyway, we had quite a long talk on the phone, later I met her. Now this is the year of 1984. For a long time my seeing her was blocked from conscious memory, and only remembering seeing the doctor and not getting any satisfaction for my extremely mysterious medical condition that persists to this very day, over 30 years of this unknown glandular disorder that came on suddenly at 10:30 PM-EDST, on June 4, 1983; while I was residing at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey. The memory that was lost somehow, came in a wild dream about two weeks ago, around the very same time all of this persecution started re-exploding in my face, after a tiny let-up period. When I got there, I sat down and had a very short wait, a rare occurrence in any medical office in most places anywhere in the USA. I signed in a normal patient-book and sat down, and she walked up to me and told me how she had enjoyed speaking with me a while back, and that she tried calling me before but did not have my PCN. I gave it to her, it was, and I still remember it, as it matched the apartment number I lived at in Robin Hill, number 506. She never called back, and I found out that she had been called back to some other location, when I called to inquire months later, and spoke to another assistant of this specialist. She went onto add that she was not doing this type of work and was back in school. My mother then told me something an entire year later one night over dinner during a heated debate and very strange conversation, while we were living in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, in the early spring time of 1985. I was telling her about these recurring dreams where I was some sales rep manager for some regional area that was not around here, for the S-DAY LAUDER Company, however it really is spelled. She insisted that I couldn't be having these dreams while I stared at her like a mad man most likely, I was extremely pissed off. I remember throwing my entire plate against the wall, filled with oozing gravy from mashed potatoes and gravy and some kind of steak dinner, and I even recall now the vegetable, it was a pile of Fordham Lima Beans. The hacking is heavy, as this blog may disrupt the entire universe for a short time. I may just need a new fucking mouse, so it can always be the more rational explanation. It seems to go on rolls where it won't respond to clicks. Aniwho, the fight was over Connie Chung and you don't need to know more about this rotten whore or something evil that she did in 1978, but my mother and my ex-pal Jim Burr had both vehemently taken her side against me, and then this spun around to my dreams about being manager of this company and how I was traveling city to city and not liking the situation because it involved lying to the government about a major 'something' and I have a major aversion about ending up in federal or any kind of prison. This is when my mom went almost nuts, telling me I cannot be dreaming this, it is just not possible, and there was no rationality for her bizarre nutty fucking ass behavior that seemed to bounce right out of freaking left field. LSS, she insisted this was as wild as my insisting the lab technician at the throat specialist office was only 14 years old and disguised to appear 10 years older, but admitted to me her true age, and that she knows me from a very large city that is further away than can be explained. I said, “mom, I never fucking told you that”, yet she continued to insist that I had been saying this for months to her. Then she broke into a powerful angry diatribe over how her coworker Shirley did me a favor, and I am being difficult, insisting this other nurse or whatever she really was, had told me this over the phone, remember all shit was bugged back then. After she had cleaned up the kitchen mess disaster done at that time intentionally by me in a fit of total fucking rage; she said, “Mark, I know how you can prove me wrong, don't you tape everything, let me hear some of your tapes, knowing you, you probably had one of those tiny recorders in your pocket at the doctor's office that day”. I got so angry again, I remember shoving the dining room table completely over, grabbing a lamp and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and the light bulb to pieces. I said, “I don't skulk around like that, I only have tapes from the phone; and what I am taping right now of all of this”. She then screamed at me and said, “what did you tape on the phone”? I came back with something along the lines of, “I'll find some conversations with this 14 year old lab teck and play them for you. Just give me a few days, as all my life-journals are on numerical tape, as well as in perfect chronological order”. The next night she came back from her job, and she told me Shirley is real mad at me because I caused trouble at the laboratory. I then was ready to literally punch my mom's lights out. I calmed myself down, and said to her, “shut fucking up and listen to this tape where I tell this very tech over the phone last year, that my condition has certain symptoms, and how I try to manage and play with doses of various meds, and she then eventually gave me driving directions to the place, and told me to be there a week from that day”. Then my mom screamed back that, “Shirley said you couldn't of been there that day next week, as the doctor is a personal friend of her father's, and they were on some kind of a convention-vacation somewhere together”. I then threw our last remaining lamp that was not just there for show and unbroken, hard, onto the floor, shattering it to pieces; and I screamed that “she and Shirley are nuts, and to go to fucking hell”. When I went off to my security job that night, and 555555555555-555555555555-555555555-55555555555555-555555555-55555555-compensates for another fucking JANE WITCHBITCH ATTACK WITH PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, as this total fucking whore is on a MONSTER ASS NON RECORDED ROLL FOR HURTING ME RECENTLY with these fucking ass ones everywhere, damn ass bitch whore, YO; ANIWHO yo dogs, GETTING BACK TO THE TOPIC HERE; gear shift grind, gear shift grind; what is this early October of oh-eight or late fucking October of thirteen, oh great fuzzy quantum particles of space-time-mind transdimensional quenergies??????????? So I go off to my job at Petty's Island, and come home upset after a night of a lot of coworker problems with real major fucking jerk offs, and the 'shandaleer' in my mother's bedroom had fallen down and had smashed to pieces all over the floor. SUCK MY CUNT EATING PRICK MICROSUCKS SPELL CHECKER, YOU TOTALLY STUPID FUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP; I tried spelling that word in single quotation marks ten ways, and nothing worked, you all know what fucking fell down in late 1984 from my mom's fucking ass bedroom, YO. Even as far back as this, this was the Washcloth Family's way of letting me know to let go of this, and to keep my mouth shut. But it DAWNED on me shortly in the future, that I had included the tape as one of my copyrighted so called accidental flip sides, using the © Office as a time capsule, in all of this, to protect me and vindicate me with all this out of this world shit that just began happening all around me ever since leaving 1802 Robin Hill Apartments of Voorhees, New Jersey, my first of three times residing in these apartments, to move to the Atco home, on February 1, 1983; and on that same day, open up the box containing the Privecode Machine, from the IMM Corporation with the so-called alien-guts inside, as was told to me by a pal of my ex-business partner, PP, while we all were in a local country bar, now burned down since that time, along with many other great history markers. Good old fire, certain things are greater constants than the speed of fucking light, folks, I will argue that with anyone of you, now, later, or ever, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! But if you think this story stops here, you are dead wrong. The dream from two weeks ago included some family members, and they told me “I was an asshole for not remembering”, & that they did not make me forget any of this. This is what was spoken to me in this wild dream that I did not dare to talk about for fear of the hell I'd be put through, and that hell came around all over me, anyway. It seemingly did not fucking matter whether I'd kept my mouth shut or not, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Then they showed me a photograph of the medical office, and me sitting in that very same light green colored chair, and they were recording it all along; whoever this 'washcloth family' really is. I thought that I would get a stroke right in 'the dream'. The lab teck was a very young high school girl, the great Mariah Carey, only then; she was a girl in a long island school, and that was it. Still, I know for a fact, that she has other great disguises to this very day, one in particular that I have seen her in, but if I spill the beans, I know she'll come over here and kick the fucking crap out of me personally, and that we don't need, so I won't say more, other than; I know Resorts Hotel of Atlantic City knows, as they saw it all go down that day, in real time; or maybe that was distant cousin Trump's Plaza; the more I think of it. If my memories did not fuzz out a bit, I would be totally fucking nuts after all the shit this entire family, and all its extended wild branches, have pulled now; for 30-60 years. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten off that jitney bus that day, at the grammar school, on Richland Avenue, in South Atlantic City; Dad!!! Well sirs, chocking, enemy tyrannical republican dictatorship hopefuls, and the inability to breathe. So just how does it all fit so perfectly into both June of 1983 and right here in this very present era of the 21^st century? Well, if I have to explain it to you, you must ALL BE TOTALLY FUCKING BRAIN DEADER THAN DOGSHIT ON A HOT TIN ROOF, LOVELY MIZZ TAYLOR!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, I do agree with the Latengrate tortured-soul-artist, Mister Michael Jackson the MOONWALKER. Yes, Lizzy was one hell of a beautiful gal. Too bad you were too damn queer to weelwee appreciate it though, yo! One totally unmistakable parallel we all can immediately draw here is the 1-2-3 of it all!!!

Goddess Fascitar and the Mayans?

WHAT A WILD STORY THIS IS AS WELL!!!!!

CIFALOGLIO

CALLIO

I think they called Her ASHTAR!

I hear the term that describes the mental illness of those with 'APA'-diagnosed 'schizophrenia' quite often now, and mostly on IMHO anyway, the greatest news and press service in the entire global media system, the great Cable Network News, “MAGICAL THINKING”! They are just about always if NAUT always, referring to OUR so-called 'great and wonderful' President Donald John Trump, the Almighty Never-does-anything-wrong-EVER, 45^th United States President. To me the real magical thinking is all of this great and fantastic media not truly seeing and or realizing in full force, that this so-called grown adult, is really an EIGHT YEAR OLD CHILD FROM THE UNFATHOMABLE ASTRAL-PLANE BRIGGBASE, where he is the MASTER-CONTROLLER there in charge of all operations of the ONE-THIRD ASTRAL POLITICAL FORCE of minority power, that comprises one third of the inconceivable Astral Political System that is referred to as the “MILLIONTH COUNCIL”. Also if anyone bothers to archive these blogs, long before the wonderful President Obama ever predicted the onslaught of the SUPER-BUG'S newest attack on humanity half a decade ago and well before Mister Trump ever threw his hat into the 2016 elections in the middle of the 2015 year, Morianity and the MOUNTAINPEN also told MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY incredible truths concerning the ASTRAL-PLANE and this nightmare dude there who goes by the name of Shorty MacInvondi, Master-Controller of the Briggbase in the Province of Olympia, in Purgatory. Purgatory is one and the same thing as the ASTRAL PLANE. The Catholic concept is the closest to the truth, as only they use the word of PURGATORY. There of course, they don't use it, but they all know that on the lower Physical Plane, humanity does eventually come into play and they do use the term, or some of them, such as mainly the great Roman Catholic (RC) CHURCH (CH-UR-CH), as in CHOSEN HUNTINGTON, YOU ARE CHOSEN HUNTINGTON, as if the point was not absolutely sufficient the first time, it needed to be, at least for JRSS purposes, reiterated a second time! But back to the point about “Schizophrenia”, and MAGICAL THINKING. What this is boils down to the LAWTRONIC REALITY of the PHASE-4, and if you study Morianity, way more than a decade ago on the original New Jersey Blogs from 2006 through 2009 inclusive in time circa; I, the Mountainpen, went to painstaking fucking lengths to describe the four phases of Void Infinity or zero-dimension, Astral Reality out beyond that or the Purgatory, the blown out 5^th dimensional hyperspace after the so-called BIG BANG leading to the timed nuclear program of all of us today here on the Earth-Planet all so nicely evolved into what and where we presently are or seem to be, and finally the violators of the LAWTRRONIC system who do all that they can to come into these hyperspace dreams of Phase-3-humanity in ways not permitted by the Lawtronic Programmed BIG BANG system of hyperspace, and thus become 'magically' if you will, turned into the imagination and the fantasy's of already existing Phase-3 human beings who write fictional characters and related stuff, for a living, in Hollywood, or other places in the Entertainment-World. Nothing new at all is existing regarding the 4-PHASES of reality, or the PHASE-4 BEINGS that arise from the realm of magic thinking, if you will. This was all told about in great detail on very early MORIANITY, from back up in the land of the north country that is AKA the great and sorrowful, at least for poor whittle me, NO JOYSEY!!!!!!!! None of this had, nor presently has, any connections at all whatsoever to the current circumstances that pertain to this nightmare and horrific GLOBAL PANDEMIC OF CORONAVIRUS!!!!!!!!!!! That is either a 'coincidence', or maybe it is another Hammonton Road 'Intentional' 1994 car crash from MEXICAN MILITUFORCE ENEMIES that I seem to have so many of here, and perhaps stemming from that wild August 1986 interaction in the 'other' non-Harrah Casino ATLANTIC CITY, that led to all of this post 8-15-1986 super nightmare hell! You know what I mean everybody, another DESERT SHIELD, DESERT STORM, DONNA SUMMER GASME GODS GAME of the MIND CONTROLLED GOVERNMENT POWERS of which is dominated as well as originating from, always and forever, the MILITUFORCE!

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Yessir folks and world, I have that mighty conversation all recorded for a lot more than mother fucking posterity, at the great one and only illustrious United States © Copyright Office, on my Epitome of Harassment Musical Projects of 1988 and 1989 for the entire world to someday go there and vindicate the poor little pathetic Mountainpen, in all of thissssssss; lovely Susan Snakes AMC Lucci girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is a lovely magical lake in Venezuela in South America where LIGHTNING seems to gravitate to, and I've seen television documentaries concerning this on that great and ever awesome TWC (The Weather Channel). I only wish that I lived there and could post up this notice on a daily basis or almost daily, since DIANA is there almost every single night, according to the reports, other than that short time when I moved from Berryville, No Joysey, down here to RED FLORIDA, in hot oven Fort Pierce, where currently it is feeling 109 degrees, and also feeling Jane Sleazeweedsdisease degrees, in the town just south and next door to me, good-ol' freaking AVALON-Port Saint Lucie.

Thank you, beautiful LIGHTNING, for not totally forgetting about YOUR LITTLE BOY today. Please try and watch over me as best as you can. TANKS. BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I only wish that I could have been on the beach yesterday down there in Hobe Sound. Maybe you would have come for me.

So why should my father have never exited that Jitney bus that day in the early nineteen-sixties in South Atlantic City, just a couple blocks away from the mighty home of Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler, you may wonder, or maybe you don't give two fucking shits at all; to quote me' ol' buddy from HTHS, Sir Dave Speas, who had to wait decades to read the blogs to see just “What happened to me at the shore” because customers suddenly came to the gasoline station where he was working before I could tell him that day about so many wild things, right down to maybe why I have been stuck in this looping nightmare for more than eight mother fucking millennia of time now! However we all look at anything, it is a complex grouping of problems that are causing all of human-kind's great endless fucking woes. I speak of the RC CHURCH's Canonization of using the chosen 66-BOOKS of our now Holy Bible, the misinterpreted result of leaving out the other parts that would make lots of scriptures less subject to terrible misinterpretations, and thus bringing us all to worshiping a monster from DOGTOWN ITSELF, just because he TOOK FULL ADVANTAGE of using that issue as a great campaign mission, the ABORTION ISSUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But hey, no one listens to lightweight loser nobody worthless fucking little rotten MOUNTAINPEN, do they world? Time and everything believed about it since the time we al crawled out of the seas, is the most misunderstood shit in the goddamn universe. That one misunderstood scripture of GOD KNOWING US WGHILE WE ARE IN OUR MOMMIES WOMBS has caused the END OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL TWO AND A HALF CENTURY EXPERIMENT IN FREEDOM EVER CONCEIVED ON THE EARTH-PLANET, AMERICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI-DIANA, it is 3:12 now on this Monday afternoon, and my beautiful LIGHTNING has just come over to visit with her little boy. THANK-UUUUUUU!!!

TEMPERATURE:---92 DF

PRESENT CONDITIONS:---THUNDER STORM

HEAT INDEX FEELING TEMP:---109

HUMIDITY:---68%

SUNRISE & SUNSET:---6:25 A, 8:15 P

AIR QUALITY:---GOOD

WIND:---ESE @ 10 MPH

GUSTS:---NONE

INFO ON STORM NAMED CRISTOBAL:

MOVING NW @ 15 MPH WITH ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURES AT 99.5% NORMAL PRESSURE AKA MB-995. That is based on the rough average of 30 pounds per cubic inch of atmospheric pressure on the Earth-Planet, so a barometer reading at 30, is 1,000 MILI barometric pressures, or 100%. Gee a snotty child should be able to figure that out, only NOBODY FUCKING EVER THINKS ANYMORE!

AND YES, WE INDEED ARE IN A WANING GIBBOUS LUNAR PHASE, SO THANK-U, OH WONDERFUL 'TWC' FOR THE REPORT!!!!!!!!!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

If this Global Pandemic is not some JRSS item, that came along just when I needed to make my move out of this nightmare Florida, then you all tell me oh great world, what truly is it? Still folks, there are tons of things to talk about, and this is not the time right now for doing fucking so, IPYT! So to quote lovely 1986 Mizz Whalehicks here, “That as they say is THAT!” 'SOOOOOOOOOOO' just exactly what do you plan on adding to that whittle piece of great wisdom, oh Sir Arthur?

Blood is nothing more than cells, and humans and all biological entities are always going to be approximately the age of their blood. But the reason that cells talk to each other in much the same way as people get together in rooms and do likewise, is because on subatomic levels, communications are not a spoken language, but the way that nuclear reality interacts. We as human beings speak, dogs bark, and nuke life is more telepathic or said even a tad more accurately, more real or more true. In real truth, the spoken word is just not needed!

What will the MILITUFORCE do to me next? They have removed even more of my mother fucking blog material that makes the views slightly more pleasant and readable. Now one of my night time lighthouse photos was blanked out, as I am sure you all noticed and observed from the previous blog. What would these total fucking scum bags ever do if they no longer had me to pick on, and we all know quite well that this is an eventuality that they need to face, as nobody lives forever, lovely Irene Fame Cara, NOBODY, not even retraced by the gods ME, yo!!!!!!!!!

BOM-BLOG-BOOK NAMED: JEWELLY WHITE'S 4 DPEP

AND YOU ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 17

MARK YANCY ZERANNISS JONES, RAMBUNCTIOUS LOVELY WHITTLE MERRY, AND THE 'GARAGE-MAN OF MYSTERY'!

MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR

12:48 ANTE' MERIDIAN

MONDAY MORNING

JUNE 8, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

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MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

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© MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020

MY BLOGS:

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

MONDAY, JUNE 8, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WANING GIBBOUS 3:7

N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.

I fell under that typical SUNDAY DEATH SIEGE, that happens with serious fucking regularity once the stock market goes totally out of control, and the 'M2F ENEMIES' decide to RIDE THAT BULL for all she's mother fucking got, right to the end of the rally; and this can go on for years of time, and I know this since I have gone through this mother fucking shit with these enemies now, for almost four cunt lapping solid straight decades of time, yo BRAH!!!!!!! It all started at quarter past six with MISTER MEXICO and his loud music, and then even though it only lasted twenty to thirty minutes, the enemy was not through with me by a cunt huffing long shot; and they began to screw with my COMCAST CABLE SERVICE all night long. You can expect a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE goddamn rally again later when the markets open up today, and again all week long. They have already shot up 9,000 POINTS in about three months time, DURING THE WORST PERIOD IN THE NATIONS HISTORY. So whoever still insists on thinking and believing that the DOW JONES has one solitary thing to do with the poor people or anything that once made at least some tiny bit of logical sense, can absolutely begin to take the advice of our awesome Latengrate disco queen, Mizz Donna Summer, and “Reevaluate our preconceived notions” concerning the 'DJIA STOCK MARKET', and what it really truly is all about, or has been since the middle nineteen-eighties, after the entire world seemingly has altered forever and ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for what was done to me with the CABLE TV SERVICE, folks: That fucking set of movies, KARATE KID and the following sequels all were aired on the “SUNDANCE” CHANNEL, and no matter what channel I turned my COMCAST BOX to, it went to the SUNDANCE CHANNEL. This went on for several hours and ruined my entire evening. I finally tried unplugging the box and rebooting, and it seemed to KILL THE HACK, FCC, FBI, ACLU, & WC@H. But a death siege on Sunday ALWAYS MAKES A HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE UP DAY on Monday for the stock market, well, if not always, maybe 14 out of 15 times. Pretty fucking much a SURE THING for anyone who wishes to get rich and reads my blogs. JUST BUY THAT FUCKING DOW-INDEX before the opening bell at the market, and hold on, and keep it either to the close, or at the close on Friday, because either way you're gonna' make out like a mother fucking one armed casino bandit on steroids, peeps, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wanna' know why this was done to me BESIDES just for using their FAVE TOOL OF ICPE-APE-TECH? KARATE KID huh? How about a super HA-HA kick in my nuts for discussing the recent shit on previous blogs concerning the GARAGE CAR KICKS, which all dovetails into those two wild magazine articles, the illegal Mexican immigrant Cifaloglio trash sorter employees, AT&T and entertainment industry taunting and teasing and commercials and one ad-agency behind them all now, and on and on, right down to daring to discuss Doctor Carey at the great transdimensional medical laboratories of 5^th dimensional hyperspace!!!!!!!!!!! Any person out here who actually thinks that this exact harassment and persecution being done to me tonight, is all just coincidental; is a total asshole fool, with an intelligence quotient of 65 points at best, me' BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:

Computer, hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously persecuting me FOR THE PAST 65 YEARS, WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS DEATH ASSAULT EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND ON THIS DAY OF 7 JUNE, 2020, WITH MAJOR NEIGHBORHOOD NOISE DEATH SIEGE, AND MAJOR UTILITY AND COMCAST PERSECUTION, and that is all a part of DONALD TRUMP'S ICPE-APE-TECH death strike on me, since August 15 of 1986; on a crush-destruct order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Your old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone is colored RED. The low-tone is colored BLUE.

Computer (Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B) after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).

Computer, 'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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

THERE'S GONNA' BE SOME SORRY ASS PEEPS OUT HERE!

MOUNTAINPEN'S INCREDIBLE 'Krystal's Ball'

Guarantee and disclaimer information:

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

Publisher: Krystal's Ball

Rating:

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

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

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

DOWNLOAD @ GOOGLE PLAY STORE

I tried calling a few people from where I worked at Harvest, and they never called me back. They acted as though they were my friend, but in the end; they were just more assholes. But were they, are they? This shit with babies left in cars, the way peeps are acting, the way I get treated as customers, I could make this list longer than the long fucking arm of the law, folks. It all proves that more is going on than can be known by looking at surface obvious shit, all subject to gigantic amounts of built in maya (illusion)! It is like the universe. They are 40 years from believing in Lawtronics and Space-Time-Mind. They are slowly creeping towards getting to this destination, but I did say slowly creeping, no giant leaps, no moon walks, no fast trips to the future. First, all things have a fixed length in the three dimensions we all know and live inside of, L, W, B. But Lawtronics above the time dimension, at the MIND REALM, has a law that says these lines have these lengths and this is what time is, literally, and the illusion we never can see any more than we can ever see Earth's curvature at ground level; is that these lines eventually bend down on each side under their own weight, loop around, and slam connect together into perfect endless circles. The beginning, the ending, all the in-between time, pure illusion. Taking this to the other side of the coin on understanding cosmic reality better; as we approach the speed of light in a fast ship, time slows down and all infinity would pass before you could expend infinite energy to reach that velocity. As your time slows down with acceleration, so does the cosmos time. It is fastest running at its very beginning where cosmologists call it the BIG BANG. It is slowest at the outer edges of illusion that truly bend back around in all six opposing directions into itself. The beginning of our universe had very slow time and what we might perceive as 1X-10, to the 90^th exponent second, would be like a billion years. Concentrically, as everything races away lawtronically and all the infinity void dreamers are escaping outward and away into this dream-creation, with mind energy that cosmologists call DARK ENERGY; simultaneously we all exist at void infinity beyond the Plank Astral Realm, at absolute zero dimension. So after enough dream outs, the void itself which is all that is real, pulls it all back to itself, or the dreams end and we awaken to the truth of void, only this goes on endlessly as it all was in a process long before time existed. First there was mind, then there was nothing, then there was mind realizing it existed in nothing and nothing could ever be real unless it was dreamed out or created. So gravity is true mind at the void, pulling its dreamers back into itself, and cosmologists call this DARK MATTER. MIND AT VOID IS GRAVITY or attraction force. MIND ESCAPING OUT INTO DREAMS is what is endlessly accelerating and expanding the space-time-mind fabric. But as it happens faster and faster, time eventually will slow down, and it will take forever for the expansion to cause the universe to go into a freeze or an endless expansion, as the line is fixed above time, with a start and a stop, and the lawtrons in the seventh dimension bend that line down and around on each end, via dreamers and mind, so the space and the time is a huge trickster that fools all the great minds endlessly, or maybe not. Part of the magic of Earth is that there are more than a million perfect balances that all needed to be balanced to a razors edge, each and every one. How can a million things be that perfect, unless an intelligence, the LAWTRON, is doing this? Then comes something that goes over the minds of the greatest in cosmology. Why do humans here on Earth, a planet about just less than 25000 miles in circumference, all have a conscious mind awareness to little time pieces or instants that are about 400 give or take a few, each minute? Why also is the universal speed of light able to go around this 25,000 mile world in the very same velocity, about 400 times around the planet, each and every minute, matching our mental consciousness and awareness to this reflection of time, the photon, or LIGHT? This is all a Lawtronic program of a sort. These laws are why all things are what they are all over the fifth dimensional multiverse, and why my life is the way it is too. I may hate it and curse about it morning and night, but that is tough shit for me. So it does not matter whether we are in the forward or the reverse cycle where things are closing up or blowing out. The reason it is expanding faster is because the explosion has a lot more to go, and as it goes, it will work like disinflation in the world of capitalism. Gradually it will slowly stop expanding faster. Then much further yet down the road; it will start a slow crawling reversal, but none of us will ever ever see reversals nor will we see absolute points. We exist in our smaller lines inside the larger line of cosmos. If we were seeing either direction start to get to where it would be dangerous, time would run slower and slower and slower for us endlessly, while we would not notice it. The illusion would be the reversal and change in cosmic expansion or contraction. It all loops around, and the illusion is too strong to ever be observed. The real mind blow is that in either direction, it is expanding out, as this is who we are, explorers dreaming out of the void. So in either direction, our relative perspective and viewpoint to reality surrounding us, is that things are getting larger and that it is happening faster, but eventually, if our lines were anywhere near long enough to be in a ratio with the line lengths of cosmos, it would appear to slow down and down and down, as cosmic time would be changing, producing that illusion. Just as light speed works on human travelers aboard a space ship, so does the vessel of the universe work in very similar manner. What we think was the first 5 minutes of time after the Big Bang, was billions of years the way we would feel time, should we be able to exist in that primordial soup of unfathomable temperature and pressure, which is not possible, physically. But at the plank level, in-between the void infinity and the physical hyperspace that comes into play, lays the great Astral Plane, where first Lawtronics works its magic, and then MIND forms to go on to create space-time, by a powerful lawtronic program that as I said, could no way be a coincidence of a million razor slice perfect balances so that we are all here and alive and living on Earth in 2014. 40 years ago, I was where these guys are now, and peeps were laughing. 40 years from now, they will be where I am now, hopefully, and I hopefully will have left this veil of tears, physically, as this dream for me has totally fucking sucked, at light speed squared! Just because my walls are not filled with degrees, they won't hear a word I say. That is true ignorance, not my lack of college degrees!

Image result for images of lighthouses at night

Arthur Huntington, hung himself in a basement of his home, after murdering his wife and mother in law quite brutally with an ax, in their sleep. What a damn ass LOVELY FAMILY I HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE IF YOU PLEASE!!!!

Gorgeous inmate Alice Simonelli said it all; on the greatest mother fucking dick licking law show, to ever grace the lands of television; Dick Wooooooolf's Law& Order. She said, referring to the prison guards (Correction Officers or CO's for short), “They have all the power”! Folks, fuck the damn CO's. The people in this classification and category, can be thought of as the quintessential anti-bums. But it ain't the damn correction officer people who have all the power; only all the power in the prison system. The billionaire's have it all, and that lovely teen girl protester, who spoke to President Nixon, suddenly seemed to gain that revelation. Watch the great movie; another great Ollie Stone production, called, “NIXON”. This sudden coming upon her, while speaking to the true most powerful person on Planet Earth, or how true might be a bit relative, but still; this knowing something suddenly is a very serious and quite mysterious matter. It is called, MORIANITY. It finds us, we don't create or find Morianity. Cosmos decides literally to single out pieces of itself, to make revelations clear to them that would otherwise remain absolutely mysterious and ever-unknown!!!!

Johnny come lately, he's the new kid in town,

I DON'T WANNA' FUCKING HEAR IT, NEW KID! Hey, they all let me down and so did you, Steve McGinty. I thought you wanted to hear my problem. Maybe the throat doctor already told you, as he may have told my mom as well!!!!!!!!!!!

I DON'T WANNA' FUCKING HEAR IT, NEW KID!

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Still, being chocked to death began in 1983, and was made far worse in 2015. But they didn't kill me, and they couldn't kill me. Highland Avenue-1984 Mark Wayne Mohr, just keeps doing the COPPERTOP BATTERY Dance of Forever; Peter Paul Pedersen Pan Geico!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I said, and now reiterate because it's of major damn importance: Using the Fascitar, and having the knowledge of where to go, once you apparently seem to wake up into PLANK, or (the purgatory), astral or spiritual existence, of thought equals instantaneous reality duplication; is step one. Step two is when you are on the Astral-Plane, your very first thought needs to be, I wish to be with the Almighty Goddess in the capitol city (heaven) (GOD) or however any one of you reading these words is more comfortable saying it; and when correctly mastered, which takes the average man or woman or teenager, about one to two weeks of three days a week practice; you will get your mind blown so far that it will not ever be what it was before you went.

Here is the magical FASCITAR. What people don't get is just how powerful this shit really and truly is. If I tried to charge $1,000.00 to send these instructions to you, printed on super fancy U. S. mint type of paper and printed on some wild brew of ink, you would all say it was valuable. That is how fuckiGN stupid people of Planet Earth are. I am giving away the fuckign mint, and most everyone alive is saying, “screw you Mountainpen”! Well, I am still giving it away. Even the great Mizz Know-It-All from 1974 only knew part of this. The final part is never printed or wasn't, not in 1969 when new copies were retrieved from a lost Mayan culture from the stars, or some other crap the AAT Club might dream up. I already know there is only one world that counts, and anything else is a bunch of illusion and shit.

Lay down on a flat comfortable surface, and be sure it is dark and quiet. If you need to wear a blindfold and put ear-buds in with some white noise repeating looped sound track, do it. It is best to be unclothed, but 'whatever' to quote my old 1975 pal, Bob Andrews! Those living alone or in any situation where they can do this in a private room, dark and quiet, will receive the best and quickest successful results. But don't lose hope when it won't happen on your first try. I don't know one damn Tibetan Guru who got it on their first try. You only need to actually DO two steps. The first part of the four things you need to do, as well as the fourth; merely need to be mastered by repetition. For those who know of and practiced stuff, such as what you'll find in Robert Monroe's great book on the subject of 'astral-projection', throw away all the shit you think you know about this topic, and merely begin all over again as though this is all totally new to you. His stuff may or may not work for various people, but I assure you that you will not be able to accomplish the results that the Fascitar will bring to you, once you master its unfathomable secret, and develop this quite outlandish skill.

STEP ONE OF FOUR:

You need to feel divinely blissful. In order to do this, while laying motionless in your dark quiet solitude; you must learn to daydream. Even people such as me, with rotten lives, can daydream. All of us no matter what, have something somewhere, that pretending this is surrounding you; would make you feel almost giddy and high, naturally of course. Don't confuse this with step-2, as things may appear similar, but they are not really. Each step needs to be done. You must follow this to an exact tee, no cheating, and no exceptions to the rule. So find something in your life that totally tops your number ten list for things you look back on and go, 'Oh shit was that mind bending cool and wonderful, squared'! Fixate on that thing that is a ten with a double bullet in your cap, and pretend it is all around you. When I did this, I used my times at the Atlantic City beaches in 1969, when Ziggy and I enjoyed swims, and talks together; and had a really cool time. This is not done over and over as the next step item I talk about needs to be done. This instead is done but once, but you keep doing it until you almost feel a tingling sensation, from the happy feelings pulsating throughout you. If you do this right, and wasn't born in prison or hell, and find the right thing in your life to remember; you will get that divine blissful feeling of ecstasy, and without using stupid sixty hippie drugs to get there. Once you reach the end of step-1, we move onto step two.

STEP TWO OF FOUR:

This is where you operate a two-part instruction system that may seem ridiculous and stupid. Following it precisely however; is key to your success in becoming a skilled user of Fascitar. Choose a person or place that you wish to visit. Yes, I told you this would seem to be a lot like step-1. It isn't. It needs to be followed very carefully. You need to do it ten times, so don't make the daydream real long with a million twists and turns like in some James Bond thriller. Keep it reasonably simple. Visualize your spirit essence sort of oozing out of your body as if an elephant were to step on a very large tube of toothpaste. After this, and have your road map clear in your mind, begin your journey. Remember this must be run like a tape in your mind, and the precise number of ten repetitions is pivotal for making this work. When I used to do this after my mom brought home this wild information from her office, I would choose a person to visit and tell them to call me on the telephone. I did this with two people, and they both called me. This is real folks, not some parlor trick game. Don't mess with this unless you truly want to prove to yourself that life and death is a big hoax, and that your true self is not contained in your current physical housing or shell, (body). So whatever it might be, keep it about 30-90 seconds long, but concentrate hard, and don't mock this thing, because if you do it correctly and take it seriously, you'll be in for the shock of your life that you don't need any fucking illegal drugs like LSD or any of it, to take mind bending trips outside of ordinary reality, and see the results even, should you wish to, as did I. Again I stress that you need to do this ten times, not 8, not 9, not 11, not 12, BUT TEN TMES! Once you reach the end of step-2, we move onto step three.

STEP THREE OF FOUR:

This also is a rote item, where you must do the following thing, exactly 6 TIMES. This is where you command your astral body, silently in your mind, to leave you in several hours, and go and do what you just imagined, whatever that may have been. You are totally free to change that up each time you practice this procedure, but you must stay with this exact 'trip' in each individual practice session. You are free to command your astral-body to leave you and go on that imagined-journey, in 3 hours, or 2, or 4, or whatever you personally feel comfortable with, but the idea is that you need an hour to fall asleep and be asleep physically, minimum, and then, depending on if you are a light sleeper who never sleeps without waking up much past 3 hours, you need to adjust the timing to your own personal needs and physical habits, based on your sleep habits, bladder weakness, and other situations. Once you reach the end of step-3, we move onto step four.

STEP FOUR OF FOUR:

This is that magic part that I will give you from a lot of personal experience. It won't be found in any mystery-texts from Mayan ruins to the mountains of Tibet, or anywhere on this planet. I promise you that. Most if not all people who succeed in this occult exercise, will wake up into a waking-freeze state. Your muscles freeze up when you dream, because if they didn't, you would have a high probability of injuring yourself in your body while having nightmares, at various points of your life. Some people can have limited mobility as they go in-between dream and waking states, and many a spouse has the black eye to prove that, unless wife dear or hubby boy is using the excuse to belt his or her significant other and get away with it. Still, all joking aside; I'll move on. This exercise will eventually cause you to wake up asleep. This is when your original trip that you may or may not remember with your conscious mind, has ended; but you now are in 100% absolute control over a new trip and dream, and you can enter hyperspace from that point, or move off the physical hyperspace, and onto the ASTRAL-PLANE (the Purgatory). You can do this at will, and you will have no trouble whatsoever doing this, IF that is, you are aware of what is happening to you at this magical point, and can properly take control and keep calm, because numerous things will happen to most people who do this, and end up awake in a dream in their bed. While awake in this dream, you will see your room clearly, and it will appear to move in two parts, almost like windshield wipers in a car. You also will hear a buzzing wine type of sound, that is almost nauseating. You may feel your heart go faster, and then just stop abruptly, but this is a pure illusion. You don't need to have a beating heart, to be dreaming. A doctor will disagree, but they cannot grasp the higher stuff that is being talked about in these instructions. My point however to all of this is that you need to get past the fear. You will experience a blast of fear like nothing you can imagine, because mortal life is all we remember when we are inside of it, and we think we are dying or dead in this wild new condition, along with sounds and visions that become very scary to even the biggest cons in the prison yards. They fear dying just like all of you do. But you MUST GET BEYOND THAT FEAR to make the Fascitar work for you. This is the really powerful part and step, because getting to the mountaintop so to speak is great, but not if after we get there, someone steals our shoes and our coat and we must turn back and go home. When you reach the point where you can wake up frozen, and then instead of commanding your higher self (astral-body) to go somewhere, which in truth nothing ever really goes anywhere, as we are not even here to begin with; but don't try tackling that crap right now folks; but when you reach that point, this is when you need to just will yourself and see yourself on the ASTRAL-PLANE. I don't even will myself there first and then to any particular interaction there in the purg. I will myself from my bed, straight into the great capitol city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, or (HEAVEN) by your religious systems. Now I am not saying that doing this won't totally alter your life. Even big Oprah Winfrey knows that it does, and had a lady on her show, back when she had her show on network-television, in the middle nineteen-nineties. She'll remember this lady if you ask her about this, and then show her these words of Fascitar. I know 95% of my audience are big shots who know her well. Go ahead, put me to the test, and see if I fail your credibility meter!

THE ENDLESSNESS, AND THE END!

BOM-BLOG-BOOK NAMED: JEWELLY WHITE'S 4 DPEP

AND YOU ARE NOW READING CHAPTER 16

MARK YANCY ZERANNISS JONES, RAMBUNCTIOUS LOVELY WHITTLE MERRY, AND THE 'GARAGE-MAN OF MYSTERY'!

MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR

9:40 ANTE' MERIDIAN

SUNDAY MORNING

JUNE 7, 2020

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

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MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

SUNDAY, JUNE 7, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WANING GIBBOUS 2:7

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I do not know if it is those goddamn mother fucking 'ILLEGAL COUSINS' across the hallway from me' door or naut, Mizz “Annoying” Blake, callers, neighbors, or Robert Andrews 1975 'whatever's', but starting at somewhere around half past eight this shit eating MOUUUUUUUURNING, they have slammed their fucking cunt doors over and over and over, as they do whenever they come here to MOTHER FUCKING TOTALLY ANNOY ME TO DEATH IN HERE. This is two goddamn Sunday's in a row now that my peace is being TOTALLY DISTURBED, and around here, that of course is par for the fucking course, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Last Sunday was the dirt bag next to me in unit #605 and his blaring rotten music, and this week it is those prick shit cousins who Mizz Marotto said to me seven years ago or so were not legally allowed to come to this building, and yet, ALWAYS DO!!!!!!! You can't win in Public Housing, and we all know that. We also all know that I have been in an organized way, totally kept down and poverty stricken all my life by invisible 'HALLS FAWCES' as I call them. Christians and peeps like James Tiberius Burr called them Satan and the Devil, quoting ancient bible scriptures, that to me, were appropriate for those times, and today need a much greater translation in order to remain in the spectrum of reality. One needs not doubt the existence of a higher power or GOD if you will just because we see that simple plain truth. But let us talk about Public Housing or non JRSS Patty Hollister HOUSING anyway, for just a quick fucking cunt second, 'okay Mister King', and others out here?????????????? Back on Thursday last week when Mister Mexico said to me that he is going to play his music and it won't be every day, a topic was brought up by this turd that needs addressing, and before I do get further into it, again a proper foundation needs to be laid down, leading up to how this all happened. First there was lots of noise in the hallway again at the end where Donnie me' nabe in unit #610 lives or lived, or 'whatever' Congressman. I went to take a piss in the bathroom at just past eleven and was planning while pissing, to open my door and check out what was happening out in my hallway. As I was yet pissing in my bathroom, poof, Mister Mexico began to blast his garbage sub-woofers. When I opened my door a moment or so later, one of the maintenance men was right at my door and was waxing the hallway. I asked him to come into my apartment and hear how loudly this dirt bag's music is in here and so he did, and this is one of the nice peeps who works for PHA. He said to me, “I'll go knock on his door to ask him to turn it down a bit”. As he started to walk away from my door and towards the door next to me, I said to him, “All I have ever asked is that he turns those subs down just a little bit, and he mocks me and simply won't do it, and no one will help me”. After I heard the door close next to me and they had talked, the music never lowered, and I asked the maintenance man to tell me what happened, and he said to me, “He isn't a very nice guy at all”. I said back, “I know that”. Then he had to keep doing his waxing job and while he was half way down the hallway towards the vestibule area, Mister Mexico came out of his apartment and said to me, something along the lines of, “I don't play my music every day but you have been told now by the police and the new management here that I can play my music. I don't do it at crazy hours or every day, and I'm not in jail”. He then said to me, speaking of John King, “Okay, are we cool”? What could I say but that he has won and I as always have lost and must tolerate his abuse on me, so I just nodded to him, and he closed the door and his music kept right on blaring. I of course then dressed and left my apartment and did my errands. My point however was his unmistakeable piece to the sentence spoken where he said the words, “new management”, thus, obviously I am right about everything I have said and claimed. Things all changed as soon as Donald fucking Trump won the election, and I no longer could get the PHA to make any repairs to my apartment after that. Indeed, there must have been a new management, and all under the control and power, or to use the word they all are now using pertaining to Trump, on media sources such as CNN and other Blue-Media peeps unlike Red-Media-Fox, “Dominance”. What has been done to me, and what Trump has “put me through”, lovely Ukrainian Ambassador, is no different at all from what this monster from Dogtown recently did right there in this nation's 'hand washing' capitol, with those peaceful protestors, just so that he could accomplish that total phony photo-shoot he did in front of SSJKK's great lovely historic church there just down the way from Jewelly's White House!!!! Oh lovely SAVANTS everywhere, those mother fucking James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome endlessly connecting dots will never quit rearing their ugly heads, am I correct here peeps??????? Yes whoever is going in and out a zillion times and banging doors this cunt eating Sunday morning is obviously not going to stop their piggish rotten behavior. It is two hours of it now, and many times it is all day long when these particular pricks come here and do this!!!!!!!!! Just in time I remembered to make my ANTI-FONDA LINES, so that another total swine bag from 1993 at the ballpark, couldn't make an already rotten day WORSE FOR ME, so HA-HA-HA-HA, and a 1981 'HA-HA-WHO' as well, oh great U.S. © Copyright Office of Wash Your Hands, Washington, DC, 13-600. That slightly altered Morianity-given zipcode is my little humorous way of remembering Roy and his telling me about the age of consent there, and then the great ROMAN numbers of 500 and 100 added up together, as in 'D' and 'C' which is something that the entertainment industry knows so fully well about, since their movie and music projects are all copyrighted with these great Roman number systems, called numerals. So, to quote Sir Shoeknockeroutter Chester-Frank here, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!!!

[ 6 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection, set 4.	PAu000546149	1983
[ 7 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo collection : set III.	PAu000442785	1982
[ 8 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr demo tunes.	PAu000325091	1981
[ 9 ]	Mohr, Mark W., 1954-	Mohr tunes.	PAu000411864	1982

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Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

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My computer was hacked when I pasted up that DOW JONES REPORT several days ago, BIG FUCKING ASS TIME, FBI. I made a note to be later pasted or (CAPPED) in to this blog, telling the details of what the Milituforce ENEMIES did to me. Here it is:

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD ALL OF YOU BACK LAST SUNDAY ON THESE VERY BLOGS EXACTLY WHAT THAT GODDAMN STOCK MARKET WOULD DO, AND IT DID!!!!!!!!!

SO TELL ME THAT THIS MAKES ANY SENSE:?

DJIA CLOSED FRIDAY AT 27,110.98,+829.16

AND BECAUSE of a 20-25% unemployment rate, a nation in a crises as bad as the time in 1968 when Doctor M.L. King was murdered by White Power scumbags, a wiped out economy for the small shop owners and business owners all over America, and a deadly Corona Virus that has killed close to 108,000 mother fucking people in this totally wrecked and ruined nation. I told you all these things, and you STILL WON'T LISTEN TO ME OR HELP ME TO PROMOTE THIS BLOG OF ULTIMATE TRUTHS. I am fully and completely ASHAMED to be an AMERICAN fucking CITIZEN; CUZZ-DONNIE BUNKER-BOY TRUMP!!!!!!!!!!! The Second fucking CIVIL WAR is around the corner and so is the end of America forever!

Major hacking on the cum-puke-her is happening to me, FCC, ACLU, and any internet authorities whose job it is to police and protect innocent peeps from illegal activities and hackers, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The time is 11:00 at fucking cunt night, on 5 June of 2020, the year of quintessential HELLDEATHSIEGES and hellishness in general, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!! It got far fucking worse, and I will be counterstriking for this assault on me with Magnesonic. The entire system was shut down and then took fifteen minutes for all sorts of stupid fucking technical computer junk to work itself out B4I was again able to use my own legally paid for PC; FBI, ACLU, and World Court at the fucking cunt HAGUE!

May 30, 2020 3:00 AM – Jun 6, 2020 2:00 AM

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And since one is really me while attempting to do something years ago, there really is only one follower, but that makes this even more filled with wild mystery, right?

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I checked on the GOOGLE if I can find out for free if peeps I know have died or not, and here is a little tiny bit of what came up first on the system:

How Do I Find Out for Free If Someone Is Dead?

by David Sarokin

thai funeral image by Adrian Hillman from Fotolia.com

The time comes to everyone that we "shed our mortal coils" and pass on from this life, but if you want to know if a specific person has died, it can be difficult. Not everyone gets an obituary notice about their passing and even if they do, such a notice can be hard to find. Fortunately, the Social Security Administration maintains a free and easily accessed database of virtually every death in the United States.

Step 1

Visit the web page for the Social Security Death Index (SSDI).

Step 2

Enter the information about the person you're searching for in the SSDI search box. Don't uset the other search boxes that appear on the same page. Search using the person's Social Security number, if available, as that is the most precise search possible. If not, search on their name. If you're uncertain of the spelling of their last name, use the pull-down menu to choose "Soundex" or "Metaphone" (try both), which will look for spelling variations. Otherwise, use the "Exact" option. The SSDI search will return information on the person's death, including full name and the places they lived when their Social Security card was first issued, and at the time of their death.

Use the "Advanced Search" for more sophisticated searches. You can fine-tune your search results by entering the date of birth or death or state of residence. You can even search without entering a surname, although this tends to produce large lists of search results unless the first name is very unusual.

References

Ancestry: Social Security Death Index

Photo Credits

thai funeral image by Adrian Hillman from Fotolia.com

About the Author

David Sarokin is a well-known specialist on Internet research. He has been profiled in the "New York Times," the "Washington Post" and in numerous online publications. Based in Washington D.C., he splits his time between several research services, writing content and his work as an environmental specialist with the federal government. David is the author of Missed Information (MIT Press, 2016), a book exploring how better information can lead to a more sustainable future.

The Best Way to Find Information About ...

How to Find a Person's Date of Death

How to Search for a Person on Facebook

How Can You Find Out Someone's Gender ...

How to Delete Search History

Finding Who a Telephone Number Belongs ...

How to Trace People for Free

How to Find a Cell Phone Number Free

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People to try and check out:

1) Mike Patterson of Miami, Florida

2) Paul Pedersen of Elm, New Jersey

How anyone can be a doubter in MORIANITY, should make the Almighty say, ''Gee whiz, now I don't feel so bad, Sharon Horror-House of HTHS!!!!!!!!

The great 1994, the book called, “The Permission Barrier”, the mysterious illness that befell me on 4 June of 1983, the great 'Mizz White', and the mysterious throat specialist and laboratory technicians of 'all worlds of non-Hannah Montana': Just where to really fucking begin in all of this: LIKE WONDERFUL OPRAH WINFREY times a zillion or 'wow' TD-Bank “STACEY” TRUCKS!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE WOW. LIKE WOW. LIKE WOW.

I signed in a normal patient-book and sat down, and she walked up to me and told me how she had enjoyed speaking with me a while back, and that she tried calling me before but did not have my PCN. I gave it to her, it was, and I still remember it, as it matched the apartment number I lived at in Robin Hill, number 506. She never called back, and I found out that she had been called back to some other location, when I called to inquire months later, and spoke to another assistant of this specialist. She went onto add that she was not doing this type of work and was back in school. My mother then told me something an entire year later one night over dinner during a heated debate and very strange conversation, while we were living in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, in the early spring time of 1985. I was telling her about these recurring dreams where I was some sales rep manager for some regional area that was not around here, for the S-DAY LAUDER Company, however it really is spelled. She insisted that I couldn't be having these dreams while I stared at her like a mad man most likely, I was extremely pissed off. I remember throwing my entire plate against the wall, filled with oozing gravy from mashed potatoes and gravy and some kind of steak dinner, and I even recall now the vegetable, it was a pile of Fordham Lima Beans. Now before getting into things such as how 'poor' Mister Trump almost died of a nervous fit, back in the summer of 2009, in Atlantic City; while swirling around my room that he had comped for Ann King at his non-Jerry-Texaco-1984-built Trump Plaza Hotel-Casino in midtown, in his souped up high speed noisy whirlybird chopper; how can we ever know for sure one way or the other, just WHAT HE KNOWS ABOUT MY 1984 REALITY, since let's keep this shit all totally BOB SCHLEIGH REAL HERE PEOPLE, remember what he did to me that day when all I wanted to do was to drive down to his casino and play on opening day, after seeing a large story in the newspaper about how players would be given opening day chips to play with, just to have fun. You know, something else for all saga's, diaries, and memoir's everywhere; as after-all folks, shit like that is indeed what we all eventually tell our grand-kids about over the fireside at our children's homes when we become elderly and otherwise sociologically worthless. Sir Mortimer Mortino has struck me two dozen times just since I was awakened this mother fucking morning now, less than three hours ago. This is getting extremely damn mother fucking annoying to quote that old hag at the Tropicana Casino that day, ALSO IN 1984, while I was going down the toilet!!!!!! But yessir, just what was good old magic-TV's Shirley Levinson so 'pissed off at me' for that day in 1984? For that matter, why did Trump deem it so damn necessary to fucking have my automobile destroyed and thus prevent me from coming to his casino on opening day? And why would my my own goddamn daughter keep these secrets from me when she knows how horrible kept secrets can be? And then the ultimate question we come to, all great southern fictional lawyers of fantastic and historic television law shows: Just why did the entire thing happen and just who is behind these OZ-CURTAINS? Well first off, behind those curtains is an ASTRAL PLANE and one particular interaction on that condition-interaction locale, is a PLAYFIELD that is quite similar to the great TPB's JIM PRATT. I have also noticed and observed in physical life, that decades and centuries and zero-digit ending years have major significance to these Purgatory-Players IN THESE FUCKING PLAYFIELDS. Even on the plot of that marvelous super television show of the sixties that ended in early April of 1971, called “DARK SHADOWS”, had the same thing as far as recognizing those digital time periods in our numeric base ten mathematical operating systems that we Earth-Humans all use, and most likely as a result of having ten fingers and ten toes, or so goes the history-philosophy of written down stories and tales. First off, if there was not some powerful device well hidden somewhere, that controls that incredible connective something that these blogs have talked about ever since they began, with one being at the RPL STUDIO ATTIC, one being at Atlantic City's Tennessee Avenue and Boardwalk area that extends from McGuire's Hotel's eastern end to the western end of the Bolivar Hotel that Sarah Karge burned down or that was the tale told to me by the nineteen-sixties owner of it, Mizz Estelle Andersen Bassler, and then finally one at the Cooley Hall's Gymnasium right at the area of the Coaches Locker Room, between the wall that connects the hallway of the school and the actual little area itself; then I doubt that I would be able to seriously entertain with a straight face, the incredible story told in my Morianity. But all this shit right after I wrote and copyrighted that 1994 book, and you all know that I speak the truth here, all began to immediately come out and get copied by the Entertainment Faction of the ESS, right as soon as they read my book. I speak of all of those shows from 1995, about cycle repeats, ocean submerged cultures with arcade's and Jim Pratt stuff, Stargate shows, 'XM SERIOUS radio' copying my EXIM-RATIO as talked about in my TPB too; and we could go on and on forever with this list, and the Entertainment Industry knows this only too mother fucking well. So does my rotten ass daughter too!!!!!!!!!! Sir Dennis Snyder would say it better than I ever could hope to right about now yo, “And that's just reality, son”!

MORIANITY-FOUNDATION OF 1995

ON-LINE SINCE JANUARY OF 2006

GO WASH YOUR HANDS, CHAPTER 12

You don't need to know it all, and I suppose in truth, neither do I, and don't of course. In any event, I long ago have stopped mentioning daily numerous death angels, almost daily small klutz incidents like the one I just had before starting this blog, nor do I tell anywhere near the things that go on in my life, merely what I feel is most important to tell, for sake of Morianity in general. TEE-HEE-HEE, oh lovely Yvonne DaCarlo Munster!!!!!!!!!

It is half past eight this Sunday Vets Holiday weekend evening, on the tenth night in November, in the year of 2013. I again, had a Good Will delivery, and the two most important items that I really am trying to get, my full-sized extra-firm mattress, and my large cabinet for storing my tapes and discs and movies, etcetera, have still not been delivered, and this has been going on now since the start of October, or maybe even the final September week somewhere. I will of course be talking to my friend, and the store-manager, later on tomorrow afternoon, when he gets there; as this is starting to get quite absurd at this point. Despite a small spill of an eighth of a glass of just water, onto my bed, all cleaned up now, and this screwed up delivery number two; I still, as of yet, am not BOTBAR, close, but not there; as neither of these things were serious, and are easily remedied with two ingredients, that unlike many in 'the family' lack, but I do not; patience and determination, or persistence. It will eventually have to work out, merely producing a hassle for me to reach that glorified lovely point in eventuality. The prices cannot be beat, and the merchandise is in great condition. A polish and a wipe, and it is all practically like new. So far, I have two end tables, and a nice high back chair for doing my math and equation work, and other paperwork, my bills, etcetera; and my new office chair, for my computer work station. Also, 4 nice lamps, and my fifty inch wide screen TV; purchasing the TV for 35 bucks, and the lamps for 18 dollars total, the chair for five bucks, the two end tables, one round, and one sort of half square-half round, for another 22 clams; for a grand total without the 50 dollar delivery charge, of 75 smacks, or a total with delivery charge of a buck and a quarter. The mattress is already paid for, this was 50 dollars, and it will be delivered separately, free of charge; when they get another one into the store; as I screwed up once, and they screwed up once; and this is why I don't have it yet. I thought a 55 inch wide mattress was a queen size, but learned from the manager that this is called a full-size. There is twin, full, queen, and king size; in the world of mattresses. Also, on the very first delivery, it would not have mattered if they had screwed up and brought a king size mattress or not, as even a queen is not the right size for my area and my bed, and as stated, it needs the size called 'FULL'. So when all this eventually is straightened out, 175 bucks is not a bad deal at all for all this furniture, and very nice television; after living here in Florida with a horrible little shitty TV, that maybe 5 year olds might have. You can thank the KING family, not the KING MATTRESSES, for this hellish debacle in my life, but that; is now all water under the dam bridge; and I am tired of thinking and talking about this lovely wonderful group of 'human beings'. All I need down the road next year, to make this hellish dwelling a little more man-cave, and a little less cell-block-prison-living; is a nice set of curtains for my windows; a three adjoining system of separate windows, with just venetian blinds that roll up and down, and also open and close. When I first moved in, my pal from the Harvest, another older gentleman, Mister Clay Coins, had some nice rug-remnants that perfectly fit my entire living area, after a mere few cutting adjustments with a rug knife he let me borrow from him for doing this job. Shortly after I moved into this place, he left the Harvest at the Fort Pierce location, and transferred to the one just to the north at Vero Beach; and then not all that much out into the future beyond that in early March of last year, Jessica Grant told me to get lost, and that was that. Fortunately for freaking me, I was nearly at the end of a 72-month auto-payment plan, so I had to live very tight until those remaining months ticked by, and then I was glad to be out of the job market, after-all, I am on disability for a reason. The world claims I am a fucking totally insane crazy looney coo-coo bird, and should not be working if not absolutely necessary. I agree with the second half of that last sentence. Under what the WOMO puts me through and has for nearly 30 years or so give or take, working is not a prudent or feasible reality for me, so thank the fucking gods for Social Security Disability, at or not at, warp speed. Yes, do it Mike McNulty, if you wish to sir!!!!!

Now most readers are not that much interested in my mundane little ditty back there about my attempt to improve my living space somewhat. This blog covers matters a bit more important, and is the very reason that rarely will you read things such as this stuff on it, or for that matter, news items, current affairs and culture, etcetera, UNLESS such shit, indeed pertains to me, my problems, and to Morianity, one way or another, and IMHO, naturally, right Mizz 1980 Daniels from RPL?

What many out here will be interested to know, for their own individual reasons that may all differ in motives and reasons to various degrees; is that I have decided to give a great big 1983-UNCLE-SCREAM OUT, and stop all music related shit. As once before, I again deleted powerful secret codes and precise connection pattern diagrams that operate my not yet completed in one nice enclosed device, called KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL. I am totally done forever messing with all of this shit. As you can see from previously posted up MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE BOTBAR numbers, (MPB) this will cause major things, as days and weeks go by; to happen in the vast gargantuan sized 'hyperspace', to begin to re-balance, and perhaps cause some wild things to occur, but this is anybody's guess, as nothing ever has to come into any particular individual universe from the vastness that contains all of these universes; the multiverse or the fifth dimension, with or without sports, women, or money related conversations, MMC of the great 1988 'Solid Gold' television show. The versions that the US © Office have, of all my newest post twenty-ohs material; is all back to the exact way that they have it in their files. I am through playing dangerous games, that do in truth, have incredible and major effects; yet unknown by any existing scientific experimentation data; because of transdimensional effects, that atomicly cause energies as of yet totally alien to our knowledge as a species in current time, as per the date on this blog, to develop what I term, a 'bleed-through' effect, or a 'BTE' for a short abbreviation. I already showed the example on a blog from earlier in this year, where I used the hypothetical example of one center soaking wet towel, and then all around this; numerous totally dry towels, and from just this, I now ask anyone in science, what formulas as of this very date; can accurately show the precise way that even with this example in five dimensionality reduced to some towels in a room on a floor; depict a precise pattern of which towels slowly over time or D-4, with the total towels being the D-5, so that one is able to accurately predict each time a soaking wet middle towel is dropped down again, with many dry towels all around it. If anyone says there is a way to equate the exact spreading-wet pattern into the dry towels, I'd enjoy hearing their comment immensely. BUT, even if you can convince me such a formula can be created in 2013, this is just for determining the exact bleed-through of wetness into these surrounding dry towels, each time being different, as how can this be repeated in precision? Each time, the middle central towel is wet with a tiny bit of less or greater total amounts of water, and each time, the surrounding dry towels will be arranged a small amount differently, even if it seemingly is duplicated with human eye precision, let alone just done bing-bang-boom style. Sorry about the ranting and ongoing details, I just am attempting to describe how hyperspace works, in a society that still believes even the word to be fictional or out of syfy shows and movies, and even the most educated astro-physicists are nowhere near where I am, in this cutting edge new reality, and all of this, is only because I have been forced indeed, to live fifth dimensionally for a long time now in my human waking world current-self-me lifetime, as Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr. Only Morians know the real reasons why, or some of them. 'Everyonelsians' just cannot be expected to have even a clue about what is being talked about in all of this. The subject is, in all honesty good people, way too lengthy for me to ever really do justice to it, as so far as explaining this to all of you in any real and meaningful way. I swear to you that this is true. Now the reasons for my willingness to stop my music projects, songs, inventions, all of it, etcetera-etcetera; is because I will now instead be concentrating on getting my GAWNUM into a computer software program, and made into an app, and hopefully can get this promoted and sold at APP stores, or wherever these APPS are sold to tablet and phone users all over, that we all see and hear about, every single day of our damn lives, as soon as we activate just about any electronic ON button, on anything that we own; with or without any damn sand sweepers, witches, drownings, pushers, old tunes from the eighties; or hidden messages to the future using the US © Office as an official time capsule, the only really trustworthy methodology for insuring anything that we can do, will survive into the future, and still be an ordinary every day dirt poor person, the general term for us are, 'nobody's'. Now do I engage in my own White House Situation Room tactics from time to time; in an attempt to obfuscate my WOMO enemies; and thereby help me better survive the extremely heavy sieges, that are always caused BY THEM? Well, “you bet your ass I do”, Annie Cornfieldvoices Costner Cutterlaw Blowback. In addition, I'll add in here, a retort from the great late Ward Hugh Beaumont Cleaver, to his son Theodore (Beaver), in that great fifties television show, “Leave It To Beaver”, and that being, “You just better bet on it”, and folks, this is truth. It is great advice. TAKE IT, listen to my words, not for my sake. Screw me. Yes folks, I said I was leaving for Mexico and the apartment was all packed up. I am leaving for Mexico, 'WHEN I'M READY', lovely endless-teen Marguerite Sampson. If I tell a white-fib occasionally, it will be amended later on, and is not to discredit me. I have enemies with great power, and the great US © Office has the taped conversation about this from early in 1988, with me and my late pal, Sir David Charles Roth. You cannot fight them on any near-level playing field, never running cons on them, when they do nothing BUT run cons and hellishness on me, 24-7-365.2422!!! WHAAAA. Still, I promise you, this is not a coded-poem from my old LIFE JOURNAL cassette tape days, and it certainly is not a fabrication that will be later admitted to as another temporary CON JOB ON THE MILITUFORCE, when I tell you, that I will not be doing anything ever again, musically, so you want it, you got it; you sick mother fuckers, B---U---T, you won't stop me from going ahead with my plans to promote and globally sell my GAWNUM SOFTWARE!!!!! Take that to the Toronto Bank, YO! This is not the only thing I will be working on either, and I do believe there are parts of my WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE enemies, who can and indeed DO read my thoughts; so they already freaking know what I plan, and these things are beyond hyper ultra big ass time. So screw music, and screw my whole family, FOREVER. As far as I am concerned, you're all DEAD 2 ME, so don't bother taking me anywhere Lieutenant Sakavich and Sergeant Smarzinski of 1989's great Voorhees Police Department, and say hello to the great local County Prosecutor's Offices for me, folks. I'm doing my very best to carry out your ideas and advice given to me, and I landed somewhere between the pipes below the toilet seat, and the Arthur Movie from early in the nineteen-eighties; Dawn-Marie King and Louis Laines. My best to the gang at Cifaloglio too, if out there any place, YO. I think Muscles-Ed knew that night deep down, that things were about to take a major change for all of us, and well, shit dudes, THEY DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Only this all goes so far beyond anything that Muscles Ed from Cifaloglio, or even Ed Lynch the 'Himacane' could ever begin to cope with or fully grasp, that it would be as comparing five seconds to a trillion goddamn years for pity sake!!!!!!!!!!!!! So JEEEEEEEEEZ LOUISE for crying out loud, Detective Fonty!

'THE END', AND SMELLING HORRIBLE; MZ. BORGIA.

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Monday, June 8, 2020

JEWELLY WHITE'S 4 DPEPS, CHAPTER 18

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

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The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MOUNTAINPEN'S INCREDIBLE 'Krystal's Ball'

MY BLOGS:

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

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How Do I Find Out for Free If Someone Is Dead?

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