POOR
POOR PITIFUL NON LR-ME, CHPT. 14
1:52
AM, 1 JULY, 2020, WEDNESDAY
TUESDAY,
30 JUNE, 2020 COMMON ERA YR.
TIME
OF 'TWC' WEATHER REPORT:---1:25
PM
TEMPERATURE---93
PREDICTED
HIGH TODAY---94
HEAT
INDEX---106
SKY
CONDITIONS---PARTLY CLD
HUMIDITY---55%
WIND---ENE
@ 6 MPH
AIR
QUALITY:GOOD
LONG
RANGE WEATHER PREDICTIONS:
50%
CHC RAIN AND THD STMS TODAY
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
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OF MOUNTAINPEN
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MORIANITY
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MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
MY BLOGS:
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
WEDNESDAY,
JULY 1, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
GIBBOUS 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3
WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3
WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF 2:00 AM, ON 1 JULY, 2020:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS
DEATH ASSAULT EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND
ON THIS 1
JULY, 2020,
WITH MAJOR NOISE SIEGE IN
MY PHA
BUILDING WITH NABES
FROM HELL,
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.
At
approximately a quarter before fucking cunt one this morning, extreme
door banging began and it still is going on at two in the morning. I
went into the hallway and asked one of the tenants what is going on,
and he said to me, “You've got some crazy ass neighbors”. I said
to him, “I don't doubt it for a second”. I am not sure what is
going on but I think Donnie in unit #610 never moved out, and is in
one of his psychotic episodes, and hasn't
taken his meds. Jimmy Carter started all of this when in
late 1977 or perhaps the start of 1978, he introduced an outpatient
program system for the nut jobs of the nation. They did a research
study and found it was cheaper to let all of the sickies out of the
fucking coo-coo factories and treatred them as outpatients and given
all kinds of weird psychotropic medication. Byt they have lots of
horrendous side effects and most mental patients eventually cut their
dosages way down or stop taking them all together and then 'whamo';
they go off and fuck with people, and make all the rest of us totally
miserable. Personally, I think the whole goddamn shit eating deal
sucks!!!!!!!! This is why society is now filled with all these cock
sucking nut job whackadoodles and all you have to do is go out for
any length of time and YOU WILL run I into these asshole peeps, and
IPYT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nabe-noise
has been much better recently, and for several possible reasons. I
know better than to discuss certain things and so for now, I will
remain silent on the matter. I will only say that one reason is the
WOMO-M2F doesn't like my having a quantum potential with one of my
Genie-Wheels, and yes, my one GENIE-WHEEL is off the scales into BMS
territory, down to 19.465% in 50-50 accuracy rating. Using it over
the past two weeks now has made me on a one hundred dollar flat
betting level, a net profit of just under seven grand. That means a
69 unit profit, with 104 losses and 173 wins. The same approximate
amount of plays when adjusted for amount of actual bets placed, on
two week time periods progressing backward, are net gain 53 units,
net gain 47 units, and net gain 38 units. Of course zero house vig
numbers pop in and actual profits over these eight weeks is not
69+53+47+38 or 207, but actually 172.5 units of profit, and at the
one hundred dollar play level on black gaming chips, this
is a profit of $17,250.00
in 8-weeks of play time;
oh great Permission Barrier Book, Sally Starr James Redfield JRSS,
yo! Speaking of being a mark, and also being pet-named
“Little Boy”, beautiful LIGHTNING
came over to visit with me a short while last night. Thank you, my
lovely BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll never ever fuckign forget being absolutely possessed on
Halloween Day of 2007, to send that second to last musical project to
the great and illustrious United States © Copyright Office, as if I
HAD NO CHOICE and was something between a human
puppet and a mechanized robot, and with or without any and all
secrets from NEXT DIMENSIONS! Anyone who
believes that a person has to actually hear an audible voice to be
mind controlled, such as are the groupation of human beings who now
in recent times of post Sigmund Freud, are medically labeled as
schizophrenics; does not live in the fucking Quoddy moccasins of Mark
Mountainpen Huntington Mohr for crissake loud criers!!!!!
I
will keep right on doing things the way that I have pertaining to
blogging, unless I get a 10+ KAVG, as discussed before. The reality
to this is that I could offer the fuckign moon and stars, and it
won't change a thing, because in 1986, I died in my sleep an dI have
entered HELL, and in HELL (DOGTOWN) as most of you know from Sunday
School memories, things never ever stop being HELLISH, and it goes on
forever and ever!!! This is a powerfureality that is beyond what I
care to dwell on, but I must accept fuckign cunt reality or I will be
in even worse shape, if anyone can begin to imagine that possible
state of sub vampiric existence for a few turd eating seconds, yo
BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!
We
all know that the stock market has nothing to do with anything real
or anything that any of you used to believe before you ever opened up
one single chapter in this MORIANITY FOR
MILLENNIUM 3!!!!!!!!!!!! We are in a major global
pandemic, everyone except of one out of a thousand wealthy peeps is
hurting so bad they're past screaming uncle, the entire government
and nation is beyond being in crisis politically, and on and on, and
yet the DOW JONES endlessly goes UP AND UP AND UP, and you know what,
I hope it keeps right on flying up to the moon and the stars, until I
can get out of this horrendous nation of America, after
and hopefully IF, we ever develop a mother fucking vaccine for this
CV bull shit on burnt toast! Take it away now if you will, oh Sir
Shoeknockeroutter Chester-Frank, yo.
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!!!
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 190
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
START:
Now
we tie some bullshit together that was touched on over numerous
recent blogging texts. There must be a final determination and
decision on my part quite soon, as actions will depend on this no
doubt, one way or another. I speak of whether some super parlor trick
is involved in the Einstein concepts that means that whoever is
behind all of this problem, is capable of propelling themselves at up
to thirty-four billion miles per second, or whether some powerful
other manipulation and wizardry is all part of things, and things are
not the way the known mathematical formulas say that they are. Making
real life make sense, is a much greater blackboard, than anything
that my dads old PPP, yes triple P (Princeton Park Pal) not double
for my partner, or single for my youngest, but triple; could ever
have chalked up. Let us go back into positive space a few days to the
car stereo attack at my local Route One branch at my TD Bank. There
was a sudden MAJOR NOISE ATTACK OUT OF NOWHERE, aimed all around me,
off the norm scales by anyone's stretch, I assure you; and then I of
course, AS THESE DISEASED PRICKS TOTALLY KNOW, pushed in my tape of
white noise into the tape player to block it out, and BOOM, “THEY”
interrupted the normal machine ops, and it would not play, even when
I ejected the mother fucking cassette, and the radio mode was
switched automatically on as a result. “THEY” needed to have me
hit with the attack for at least a certain amount of 4th
dimensional experiencing (time), followed by the negatives in lost
energy, resulting from not being able to compensate; and thus being
VIOLATED WITH AN ATTACK OF A COVERT ILLEGAL NATURE ON MY FUCKING
PERSONAL PROPERTY, hence resulting in a sufficient total amount of
lost energy, James Redfield, not David or Stacey, and certainly,
PTL-PR, not 1997. The last year my present life-ME was in peace was
1953. Ever since the following period, an eleven year SATANIC SOLAR
CYCLE or 132 month-cycle, has been disastrous and mother fucking
devastating in my cock sucking hellish life. 1953, 1964, 1975, 1986,
1997, 2008. My next total fucking disaster will be, DUH, Color me
impressed and mine, in two fucking thousand and nineteen. Then the
final one will be my last full year on this evil demonic planet in
2030, as in middle late June of 2031, my death as MARK WAYNE MOHR OF
HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, WILL OCCUR. Google me up Jason Donna
Summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew you were out to get me
from the day this nightmare began at that rotten ass recording studio
in 1979, in Camden, NJUSAESMWG; but it was after I copied you, by
putting that stupid tape of my music, where you had your phonograph
record from 1968-1980, that caused the real cataclysmic nightmare.
All these gruesome ugly ass details are all up, on previous blogs; on
the website where blogging all began, RIHC of ACNJ, www.blogger.com/.
For newcomers into this shit, YO, the SAFE JOURNAL is merely
something that is quite recent, and named because my real life
journal was calculatedly plotted to be totally wiped out and
destroyed, and Friendly Ice Cream has major shit to do with all of
this, as they are major fucking enemies of mine; and this story will
be repeated, a little bit right now; since my PHILLIES are getting
fucking hammered recently, AS TOLD AND PREDICTED, BY ME, THE PROPHET
OF 1988 NOTHING; HUH US © OFFICE? Long before the 'SAFE JOURNAL',
were the first blogs done in old sunny ass Florida. Before that, much
shit was done under the name of THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET
VERSION, as well as THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME. I wish I could
laugh and see something funny about all of this, but unlike other
luckier peeps, I cannot laugh at things so hideous and totally
monstrously deplorable, as stair-tag-games, hyperspace manipulation,
and mind control. May the gods bless and love all of those who can
indeed accomplish that mighty mission, as whether they may be aware
of it or not; this is a far greater accomplishment than anything else
in their life and lives, could ever be in a million years. As my pal
PP would say, I'll put my kids eyesight on that, only I would never
do that. My mother made me realize and become aware of something a
long time ago, that I bluntly laughed right in her face about at the
time and have lived to regret both it as well as not being able to
apologize for doing it due to the Physical/Astral barrier; and the
world needs not know any more at this time, about things I am saying
behind these words. I merely will tell you that this involved a cat,
and this is most likely saying too much; and is all you will get out
of me right now folks, YO. Now, in a nutshell, here is what happened
at the Friendly Ice Cream Restaurant, over at the Northeast
Philadelphia Restaurant on Route One, also known by locals of that
area, as the Roosevelt Boulevard; just a tad little way to the south
of the Street Road intersecting area. David Roth and myself, were
inside this place; and some motherfucker broke into my Saturn car,
and boosted everything; the entire car stereo, including the
sub-woofer in the trunk; and inside the radio was a tape, FOR ALL
THOSE INTERESTED INCLUDING YOU DONNA, and this tape had been
illegally used, WITHOUT MY SAY SO, BUT SCREW ALL OF YOU. Do whatever
the fucking shit you want to. Use me all up, DONNA! If you have to
know shit, then I'll fucking tell you, in any of your identities,
PAULA THE GREAT!!!!!!! There is no pattern, there is no plot, there
is no TAWF, there is no MORIANITY, there is no 2011, there is no
Planet Earth. There is only something so horrible, that it is time to
tell all of you curiosity seeking mother fuckers out here! There is
no past or future, and no solid reality. As shit alters continuously,
so do our memories as well; to match the situation, so relatively, it
is like running inside a moving train. History is total bullshit, and
once you have the discernible knowledge of this; you will no longer
be quite as totally connected to the illusion of it. As many of the
controllers continuously move back and forth through negative and
positive space at very high velocities, major continual interruptions
from what otherwise would be the normal one time pattern or
time-line, becomes an ever present reality. Still, mind and memory is
a pattern, and is energized by an equal amount of ergs, henceforth,
most cannot recognize what I refer to as the Whoopee Goldberg/Mark
Mohr Trick, or for short, the WGMMT. Now, this is a bunch of sweet
nice words, that make a lot of sense in the worlds of Quantum
Physics; and its multiple and complex mathematical mechanics. Another
possibility is that a teenaged girl, upline and beyond this entire
universe; and all of the many countless parallel universes that all
lay inside of a much huger dimension, the 5th
one; has a nice little dollhouse, and game; and is doing all of this
because her parents are out for the evening, and she is bored with
the evening after-school special, on the idiot box. Both of these
possibilities exist, in the worlds of Quantum Dynamics; like it or
not, my peeps, YO.
Based
on what happened to me after my last trip up to the great island, in
the Christmas holiday time circa of the year of 1972; I base my
decision on leaning more to the teenaged girl. The reasons are all on
prior blogs, world. Still, I am only a human being, SIR BRUCE ALAN
PENNOCK, and my only excuse is at least I do not get my kicks out of
playing games, stealing music; or flying around and getting exposed
as an alien. Friendly Ice Cream is the reason that all of this shit
is on the damn internet, and I cannot even get an apology from these
pricks. The entire story was blogged. They would not even permit
David Roth and myself, to use their telephone, to call the police; so
I ask all of the internet cyberpeeps out here, if all this shit was
happening the fuck to you, what would you believe, Mickey Showers
Woods Zenun, SIR TONY
POOLPROPEL?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
was I really so instrumental on effecting human history?
Sheeeeeeeeeeeit, not in a million fucking years folks. It all is
nothing but pure illusion, but that is of course my humble opinion
based on my life, Michelle Daniels of 1980. But still girl, thank you
for entitling me to it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As for the
great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, Jay-Jay Evans said it all, back around
1976 or 1977 somewhere thereabout. He stroked his little mustache,
and he said, and I'll quote this super walking cool dude, YO, “What
can I say, BRO?”
Now
you all know why THEY would not let me fuck around in the stock
market, as just as in 1986, I am not permitted to break 7th
dimensional lawtronics. When and if I begin to do this, the penalty
is catastrophic and inconceivable, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maria
Kelly, give me a break,
hypno-clinics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE
END FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Clink, bonk, Curly! HA.
SAFE JOURNAL,
CHAPTER 191
5:38 PM, SUNDAY,
JULY 10, 2011
BLOG-TEXT-SUBTITLE
#4:
{(“Siege off the
fucking scale, and right on Karge-time”)}
THE EPITOME OF
HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
FROM 1995, CONTINUING FROM TAPES
WORLD LABORATORIES
OF 2296
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-191-071011.735
COPYRIGHTED
2006-2011 © BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
MARK WAYNE
MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
PROTECTED
INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF BLOGGER
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Something I said
last night on my last blog, HAS REALLY FUCKING PISSED OFF THE CUNT
LAPPING MILITUFORCE WOMO MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am under
the worst weekend death siege or at least a top five, in several
mother fucking years. I have choppers following me, and illegally
stalking me; planes and military aerial crafts doing the same thing,
AND IF SOMEONE WAS FOLLOWING ME AROUND TODAY THAT I HAD HIRED, SUCH
AS ANY FUCKING GOOD PRIVATE DETECTIVE, WHO WAS MADE FULLY AWARE OF MY
CLAIMS OF AEIRAL STALKING FOR 25 PLUS YEARS NOW, the mother fucker
would have his or her mind blown away, and out to sea. The assault
began when I decided to drive over to the beach, as fun, as you all
know; is something not 'LAWTRONICALLY' MOTHER FUCKING PERMITTED 4
POOR ME. So whenever I attempt to secure any at all, and POW-BOOM;
THESE PRICKS ARE RELELNTLESS, AND DICK KICK ME, AND PUMMEL ME, EVERY
TIME. IT IS A FOREGONE CONCLUSION. I KNEW IT WAS COMING EVEN BEFORE
IT BEGAN, AS IMMEDIATELY AFTER LEAVING MY APARTMENT AND MY BLOCK, TO
HEAD OVER TO HUTCHINSON ISLAND, HERE IN LOVELY FORT FUCKING PIERCE,
FLORIDA, USAESMWG; AND OUT OF NOWHERE AT ALL, CAME A FLASH MOB OF
TALL AND GIANT PUSSIES. THEY WERE NOT ONLY ALL AROUND EVERYWHERE IN A
REDICULOUS PREPONDERANCE TO THE AVERAGE STATISTICAL HEIGHTS OF
FEMALES THAT I HAVE ALL READY GOOGLED UP FOR THE ENTIRE NATION, AS
WELL AS THE STATE OF FLORIDA, FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND VITAL
STATISTICS, but they, as well as tons of other more normal sized
models of the human female, or the following Eve-Doppelgangers of the
double helix, WERE SUPER FLIRTATIOUS WITH ME, AS I WAS TRYING TO
SHOWER OFF MY FEET, AND PUT ON MY PANTS OVER MY DRY BATHING TRUNKS,
AND GET INTO MY VEHICLE TO LEAVE. ALSO WHEN THE TRIP BEGAN, THEY
FUCKED WITH THE TURN SIGNAL SWITCH IN MY VEHICLE AGAIN, SO I KNOW
THAT SOMETHING ELSE WILL BE HAPPENING TO MY ONLY MODE OF TRANSPORT,
BFI, AS IF YOU GIVE A FUCK; AND FOR ALL I KNOW, IT IS YOU BASTARDS
THAT ARE ALL DOING THIS EVIL FUCKING SHIT TO ME IN THE FIRST PLACE.
RUBY RIDGE, DAVID KORESH, BRANCH DAVIDIANS OF WACO, TEXAS, AND SO
FORTH, WHAT AM I REALLY TO THINK? The same tactics these G-men dirt
holes did to the Branch Davidians of Waco, are being used on three
other pathetic and totally innocent dudes; ME, MYSELF, AND POOR
LITTLE I.
Something that I
blogged last night, SURE HAD TO HAVE REALLY FUCKING STRUCK A POWERFUL
'OUCH FUCKING NERVE' SOMEWHERE, ON ONE OF THESE BOTTOM FEEDER DIRT
BAG SUB SCUM PIECES OF SHIT PERSECUTORS, BRAHHHHHH! As I speak/type
right now at .752 millidays, or 6:03 Post Meridian; I'm being
violated spiritually, and struck on my left side with a powerful
nasty ass fucking DEATH ANGEL ASSAULT, from the great powerful dirt
ball himself, MORTY MORTINO BLOWHARD THE 9TH,
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOWHSSSSSEEEEEEEEE!
When I was swimming
in the sea, a group of beautiful large sharks came around, and swam
all around me. They are so beautiful, they all know me of course.
Still, a loud horn came within a minute or two from beach patrol, and
we all left the water. Fortunately, I was just about to leave. My
nice swim had been accomplished, HA-HA-HA evil enemies, flemenies,
nikenemies, and twenemies.
WHEN I WAS SWIMMING
AROUND, AND HAVING FUN IN THE WATER; I FORGOT for a while, not to
just put out my hands and think about propelling forward, just as in
your lovely swimming pool in 1994-1996, Tony Zenun. After I had
crossed quite some distance in a short time, somebody somewhere began
playing church chimes, and there is no church within a mile from
where I swim in all 3 directions, maybe over a mile, and in the other
direction, the only church is the anti-church, or the great MC,
(MILLIONTH-COUNCIL), yes THEY are out there, somewhere, when they
wish to tune into our frequency and join us. All of you peeps reading
this need to get all of the Bermuda Triangle documentaries, and see
for yourself that powerful fucking shit is going down on this planet;
and has been since it was all put together and formed; by
signal-energy-dots, or SEDS. This is how I am also able to tap in and
do this, so fine, here fucking goes. You want war with me, watch
super shit now go down all around this fucking evil demonic miserable
world, for this putrid monstrous and horrendous deplorable ass
fucking attack on me today.
MAGNESONIC:
“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” Open command on General Order-7.
All other order commands both general and special are also in place
under 'my voice print', (MVP). Use both technologies, ZD & AD.
Your controls are maxed and cranked. This is a punishment sequencing
system, scan all persons and entities in all 5 dimensions, in any way
responsible, for planning, doing, wishing, carrying out and
executing; and all manner of pertinent stuff; to make my day today a
living hell and being viciously fucking attacked by the forces of the
TAWF-70-WOMO, of the MILI-2-FORCE. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, GO—TO—CG-18,
A----N----D~~~~~~~~~~~~~S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This world is done,
you'll fucking see, ya' bastard shit ass pricks.
Before
I left to go swimming at the beach, I tried to send you an e-mail,
PP, and opened up an account, a new one, with the AOL folks, my
e-mail address, YO, is as follows, I'll try to retrieve it if you
send me one later on. mohrmark1980@aol.com.
Later, BRO; and I am stroking my little mustache, JJ-EVANS, once I
stop crying from what I witnessed in a Suffolk County house in
NYUSAESMWG; a year or so ago, with a poor little five year old girl,
in a brightly
lit up hall
way that was off of another room. Leave her alone Gawky Meow. Have
I come a long way.
If this hell was not
so unfair and horrific, and unconscionably despicable; I would almost
feel like going, WHAAAAAAAAAAA. No PP, one of me is one too many, let
alone enough; still, why would that Libyan ass hole leader want to
have my cursed name, or the approximate sounding of it anywho, in an
antimatter universe, or sounding reverse and backward to those
listening in a universe where the polarity of electrons and protons
are the way they are, relative to all of the 50% of the antimatter
parallel universes?
Get ready to pull
some real heavy overtime, Weather Channel employees, as I will
destroy huge amounts of property, and be forced to take many lives. I
did not ask for this. This fucking shit has been going on since the
fucking 15th of August of 1986, and I am unable to escape
it. This is even foretold, on one of Scylla's great songs, known in
this very universe-reality. I may know millions of her songs in
multiple realities, and “WANNA' SPEND MY TIME” is one example,
with a slight reworded lyric so that a male vocalist can sing it, but
it really is HER SONG, as was, and is, and always will be, “LOVE IS
FOR CARPENTERS”. No more Robin Hill visits, Paula King, PLEASE, YO.
I wasn't good enough to marry, only 2 use; to get the great GODDESS
HERE, HA?
MANY POWERFUL
FUCKING PEOPLE ARE GOING TO LOSE OUT ON MANY THINGS SOON, AS DEATH IS
WAY TOO FUCKING GOOD FOR YOU. THIS IS FOR THE NICER PEEPS WHO DESERVE
TO WAKE UP OUT OF THIS FILTHY ASS ILLUSION; AND WILL, WHEN THE
WILDEST WEATHER YET TO COME; BEGINS TO FREAKING STRIKE,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, CH'ALLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION,
YO.
This
fucking dirt bag is going to be going in and out all night
long, and disturbing me ILLEGALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If it persists into the following days like this, I
will call 911. To quote myself at summer camp in the late
nineteen-sixties, “This is WEEDEEKAWUSS”!
'THE
END', AND STINKING TO DGTN BEEGEE!
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