Tuesday, November 29, 2022

BLOG TWEET 2022-X

  

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TWEET BLOG 2022-X

 

 

I WAS SO UPSET OVER THE WEEKEND BACK LAST Saturday with all the hellishness my lovely wonderful beyond adorable and very precious Otammite enemies were doing to me that I messed up in my thinking, and I said that tweet-X was taken off, but I had never done BLOG TWEET 2022-X, as this is now that blog, and I had confused the Y tweet with the now being done X-tweet. Yes I will say this only one more time and after that it needs to merely be remembered, kind wonderful peeps out here. That time of course I meant the compliment, for the most part of course, as whoever did this assault to me has earned nothing but my wonderful blissful blessings, weeeeee oh sir CF. So where will I begin when by now, I had hoped to cover so much ground, that I literally have a dozen scribbled pages of notes on “goddess forbid” yellow sheets of paper, AHA-AHA-AHA MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I won’t even try to do it in one day, there is way too much tell discuss, lovely peeps. For right now, my point is that I am naut a Terry Scatterbrain from the regions in Jersey surrounding the mighty & magical EGG HARBOR CITY. The really intellectual peeps of me’ blogaudian viewership knows this by now after reading the past dozen blogs now, and then seeing how someone quickly saw the entire thing that I was trying to do and they went into Warped hyper-speed Grampa Speers overkill, in order to attempt to stop me. As many of you remember, this dude wanted so badly to hear the story from me about our Huntington family curse. I only got a few sentences into it at Misses PM’s lovely non-magazine home in where else but GIBBsboro, NJUSAESMWG, and suddenly, non-Susan Brooks, he tore out of my home at just under the speed of light, after-all the man had several hundred pounds of mass and nothing with mass can quite reach 11.8 inches per nanosecond IPNS. But to Dogtown with that nutty family since I have me’ own beyond nutty family to contend and deal with, don’t I Mister SWP? One week from today sir, I will be at the dog-run park and please please please pweeeeeeeeeeeee be there, I need to talk to you weelwee badly, and pronto. See you next Tuesday MOUUUUUURNING!

 

 

 

The same force that is behind keeping me in down and dirty extreme sub-poverty since I was a tiny child IS ALSO KEEPING ME, AND WITH THE SAME DEGREE OF WILL-MOTIVE-GOAL MOGOSP-2007, FROM EVER BEING ABLE TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF LEARNING WITH LEGAL PROOF ACCURACY, of the full and entire detailed proof to just who and what is happening to me. Exactly why this is all happening to me, or exactly who is doing all of these wonderful lovely things to me for sixty years in various inhuman ways since I’ve been eight years old or so; is literally being kept from me BY THESE SAME FAWCES OF MISTER HALL AS THE GOOD THINGS OF LIFE ARE, ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know this as surely as I sit here typing, and challenge any authority out there in this world to polygraph me and also to use sodium truth drug Pentothal medications. You’ll find that I am telling the absolute truth, oh great WORLD COURT TRIBUNAL AT THE HAGUE. Still even an IQ-rated moron would know should this be happening to them, this is real, it is going on, and to quote James T. Burr back in 1975, “Mark, this is actually, literally, happening to you”. This has been ongoing with me in various ways and degrees now for 6-STRAIGHT DECADES, YO, I kid you naut lovely Mizz Blake. To quote beautiful Debbie Blondie Harry from back in the nineteen-eighties, this is unmistakably real and undeniably hellish, and my family as JTB said long ago, is behind the vast majority of all of my miseries, and yes world, “one way or another” lovely blond blondie, and all of your 1982 gal-pals from awesome Atlantic City, residing at 1801 Robin Hill in Voorhees Camden-County, USA;  this is also endlessly connected in and with the first half of the eighties decade, and most certainly with Atco in Jersey, and those two power-house years of ’83 & ’84, and all it all is right there for any great super sleuth to discover, as has the great Mister Steve W.P. This does not stand for world penetrator machines discussed in 1979 but it does have everything to do with any and all SAGA-MUD MUSICAL PROJECTS of the mighty ASTRAL-PLANE’S Province Olympia’s DOGTOWN. Still, does it take a super sleuth to see how as I came up on BLOG TWEET 2022-X, in conjunction with 1969’s great ‘X’ in the sky minus one line, as in minus one ‘N’, as in 18----not oh-two Robin Hill, as in magical tests at magical magazine guarding jobs and even with non-LA mist walkers or LA-mist cult members and their mighty Jenny Hewitt HATS of time equation order number bad luck—13? Yes, still I wait for them to state that this is all true and that I am here, and in or out of 1988 years. Ratio turns into 18-RATION, X-blog titles turn into 1969 warnings, and I knew Cuzz-Don that I didn’t imagine being heard by THEM while at the great WM-C job while in my car and parked near that huge truck, while gabbing away onto me’ whittle tape recorder about that episode of Star Trek with good-ole’ Lazareth Parallel World Nutcase.  Don’t worry, you’re the one with the PEAD and the finger on the really HUUUUGE DAGS-trigger, naut me, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAD NO INTENTIONS OF TAKING Mizz Leticia Tilley over to Harrah’s Casino Hotel that hot late summer afternoon from your great Plaza Hotel. Watch that chopper yo. Were you guys were trying to compete with Mister Gramps Speers? Gimme’ a break!!!! If you had come charging at Atlantic City from Manhattan one bit faster that day after you saw LT on your casino monitor, you’da crashed and burned long B4 the Lambrigg Cult had ever gotten you into the office at 18-02 minus 2-2, oh those TWOS!!!!

 

 

 

Several nights ago in the wee hours of Saturday morning folks, I had a horrendous scary nightmare with Paul Pedersen, my X-Bizz-partner in Studio Park Records from 1998. His family was there and they all were persecuting me in frightening ways in this horrendous monstrous fifth dimensional hyperspace experience. It ended where I was in my car and he walked over to it and asked me three questions and after I had given him nice civilized answers, he opened up my hood somehow and began pulling things apart and wrecking my entire vehicle. It was one of the worst nightmares of my life, and then came the day here at the library and more additional hellishness right there in waking life. I sometimes wonder if the great man’s name shouldn’t have been Peadersen and naut Pedersen. Still, watch out for that Peterson boy, oh lovely Florence of Progressive Insurance Company. Things are getting vely vely vely McDowell real for me now, huh Thomas John of Ventnor, NJUSAESMWG? Let us NAUT come to any understandings now or back in 1970 in early July either, yo! Nixon always worried about the office of the Presidency becoming compromised or weakened as he would put it back in the very early nineteen-seventies. Well, you’re naut a crook sir, maybe, but I would naut worry about that any longer, yo. It has plenty of power, and the end of the world is around the corner if this world DOES NAUT BEGIN TO WISE UP WEEL WEEL WEEL QWUICKLY, MISTER ELMER FWUDDDDD!!!!!!!!! Oh this lovely wonderful terrific world, how I love it so much. That and all sub-titles everywhere, huh great and awesome world owner Oprah who went far beyond just the job of sand and beach sweeping; huh ‘Ralph and Sandy’, and all hurricane naming jokesters. All the trouble you all have caused me now, must mean you all realize just how much you have to hide. Oh well, what can I say, Sir Jay-Jay Evans, naut Paul and naut Happy-J-King of Superman back in 1957. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! She didn’t want to sweep the sand or the Sandy, or the music curses, huh? She only wanted to Oprah Winfrey Network the land, all great Saga-Sara Karge Songwriters out there. But my truths just love to be endlessly ignored by those existing all around me. There is nothing that I can do about that, perhaps I don’t even wish to.

 

 

 

You all know that my stories are true and many of you out here merely do not wish to ever give me my legitimate props, and it is really just that Red John simple. Still, it is naut difficult to see the entire thing, however what is impossible to ever get to the bottom of has to do with something that I told to Mister Joe Paget one day at the turn of this millennium at the Roadway Trucking job where we were both security guards. So please allow me to further explain and elucidate here with you. Being in HELL is not a place, it is a condition or as I have called it for well over two decades now, a “condition interaction”. To truly never know what is happening is a hell that no one could ever face, I know this and seem to be the only one who’s ever figured it out. This does naut mean that any of you in my interaction are in this hell with me, maybe you are, maybe naut. I have no way to ever know anything for sure and especially anything pertaining to other peeps.

 

 

 

I know that I have died and gone to HELL. I know it as surely as anything in this world because no other possible thing could be happening to me. No one out here has spent the total hours and time that I have ever attempting to unravel a mystery such as my life, so I can accurately state that I have pondered and cogitated on these things longer than any of you can possibly even imagine. Since I have died about ten times and told the stories to each of these events back on earlier blogs in and before the 2020 year and shy of any of these current blog-tweets, this can only be explained by being in HELL, and how the great forces of Mister Hall laugh at me with endless little trickster ‘coinkeedinks’, such as my living in Cinnaminson, New Jersey from middle July of 1984 through the end of April in 1985, on where else but HIGHLAND AVENUE for crissing out loud, yo!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

The main thing that is happening right now is my attempt to slowly show you all the STAR TREK PINK GODDESS revelation and truths, and this is no joke. PINK RODD-GODD as I may call HER from now on, is both real, and SHE knows that I’m onto HER; and SHE seems to have retaliated against me big-time and right B4I was able to finish tying it all together for my Blogging-Audience or my Blogaudians. An ignorant six year old should in all true honesty, be able to see all of this now for exactly what it is. Some things are indeed simply the cosmos complying with the Biblically stated ‘seek and find’ scriptures, the owning the land stuff, and living at Highland Avenue and along these lines. But when an active assault strikes me as it did ever since I dared to talk about the stuff that cannot be disproved against my story, the additional “N” things, all beginning with my BLOG TWEET 2022-O, well, this is unmistakable and unmissable times ten to the power of fifty. The minute I tried to tell the world about 1969 and then all hell beginning, this cannot be ignored. It proves that my daughter is who I say she is on both fronts. Still, an author must keep it Bob Shelagh real at all times lovely Flo of Progressive, and thus still add in the famous clause of in my humble opinion or for short in the on-line communities (IMHO).  When the Star Trek character of Gary Mitchell, Captain Kirk’s Officer and pal from the Star Fleet Academy, as well as the beautiful blond psychiatrist, both were directly made contact with by that great FIELD SURROUNDING OUR GALAXY MADE OF LOVELY PURE PINK COLORS, this to me proved many powerful things. But it would take years to properly attempt addressing the entire deal with my Blogaudians and the world. Suddenly these two fictional characters started to receive god-like magical powers. People struck by ordinary lightning bolts right here in the waking world of non-TV-fictional SYFY shows, also upon recovering, have in some rare cases, reported very strange effects. Some peeps say I may be one of those peeps, but this is naut me’ whittle point right now for today, yo BRAH!  But taking all of these things in a connected bundled up way people, and we begin to get things that cannot be ignored, without any lovely raspberry dreams or strawberry festivals or Vasco Da Gama crew pirates, all sailing away from where I’m typing right now, down the great Flower-Land’s Indian River towards the sea, and chanting great tunes loudly such as my “Atlantic Queen” song, huh oh wonderful Sir Peter Viteritti? There was no reason for the great LOC in Washington to go all ape-nuts with me either back in 2007 shortly after I sent them my project known as the “Karaoke Lunchbreak at Sorian Guardhouse” and without the “18” number allowed. You see peeps, the code was built in and they all knew it, from the great 1966 TV show, Star Trek with PINK GODD-RODD. It took a Julia White and Julian Black television set to keep in the dark all those years about the great field of pink energy surrounding our MW GALAXY, also known as AKA a B&W-TV. It took a colorized set however to remove my darkness and bring me to the light of this marvelous and fantastic revelation, one day while living here in Flower-Land-USA and going to a Good-Will store one day and purchasing an old VHS-video tape of that Star Trek show episode from 1966 called, “Where No Man Has Gone B4”. Looking at the names of Julia and Julian we see the “N” letter is added. So what letter was added on the great SORIAN guard test question number 18? Ratio was hacked and changed to RATION in the test, the adding of the “N” letter. This is why the Copyright peeps totally freaked when I wished to name my musical project by that title of SORIAN-18 GUARDHOUSE, and it takes no Einstein mind out here to see it. I admit that only until the time I was sitting at the park all day because of that impossible nightmare neighbor that I too was still in the dark. But with nothing but time on my hands for a solid year to sit and reflect, it all finally did come to me. How would that 1994 cereal girl say it so well on that block party summer Nick@Nite TV-show, “WO----WO”???????? Then the 1969 censorship prophecy of the HUUUUUUGE JET TRAIL with a triple lined “X”, or truly, an asterisk, predicted with Biblical accuracy, what happened to me up here in 2022 on these blogs. Another quote from the cereal girl, huh world? The lady at the LOC went totally ape with my song titled, “She’s Sarah Stacey”. I was totally beyond clueless at the time however as to what was going on. These were the days and times of many switching’s such as with lovely Mizz Ashley Teasdale and all great HS musicals. HS standing for both high school and hyper-space, is a true deafeningly loud cosmic shout. This is what 7th dimensional Lawtronics is, the program that is behind all things that go onto literally force the system to reveal things through stuff like this, providing the seeker is not merely curious or silly about it, but has indeed a major and earnest desire to know and understand. Our great SAR (Lord) aid this to us, it is right in the four Gospels in our Bibles. “Seek and we will find. Knock and the door will be opened”. It has to, it is no different than our computers. Once programmed, then they must do certain things. We all know this, even ‘dummy-tech’ me. Hey folks, I admit to truths, it is many of you who refuse to accept stuff, for reasons that I only can attribute to the “Joseph Paget 2001 Syndrome”.

 

 

Back in 1997 while living at the Somerdale death house on Harvard Avenue, I have so much to discuss it will take forever so let me just try and do my vely best Mister 1972 McDowell. First, I said on an earlier blog that I was King-hosed on 9-97 and that was a typo, so sorry folks. It was in 9-96. I moved into the home there and experienced that day at King’s parking lot, both in early September of 1996 somewhere, the exact date escapes me, unlike Pearl Harbor day later that year on 12-96 or Robin Hill minus 6-6.  That was the day that I experienced an intentional soul-trip, courtesy of using the great I-Ching and throwing the great Hexagram of Deliverance, and then being quickly whisked away to some wild alternate Atlantic City and Tennessee Avenue, and WITH THE LOVELY SARAH. Old blogs get into the specifics of all of this, and so we need naut now reiterate. All of these things happened on a human timeline about a half decade B4I lived alone and in Jenny Plageman’s Trailer Park called the MMM, non Bonjovi emails. This was well B4 Easter Sunday of 4-15-01, and my other wild soul-trip (interaction) while there at the Teknion place on South route #73 in Mount Laurel, NJUSAESMWG. This is where I was yet to place endless jigsaw puzzle pieces together with soda shop owners named Murray, astral plane gods humanly named Steve Murray, and how lovely Lightning’s gal-pal was showing me the proper way to CARRY a surfboard in the great CAPITOL CITY OF SDK!!!!!!!!!! “Right back at you”, oh lovely Lizzy. See how easy things can get misunderstand, oh gwate world? From reading an earlier blog, one may quickly conclude, oh that lousy liar Mark Wayne Mohr, how can he know what Lizzy Duff McGee is gonna’ say five years B4 she said it. Study my exact words. I said no such thing. Some joker called me up last night and said to me, “Hey dumb-ass, you’re a liar, Lizzy M said that to you in her show five years after you claimed you were in Atlantic City with Mister King”. I simply meant that I wished to say something more wise ass and knowing about that great show years later, I was merely NOW thinking that while blogging, but see folks, this is how we all do indeed get totally misunderstood from time to time, and then add my Huntington curse to the mix and POW, I get the triple dose helping of the poisonous medicine, EVERY SINGGLE TIME. WEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Sir Chester-F. Hey, just because my X-son in law takes me on some wild trips, and once to Boston, and then back to Philly to see a parade that was 30 days away from happening, I doubt I would ever be able to know the lines of a made up television show such as Lizzy’s Disney show. I do not lie, I have no reason to tell lies, and that is why I claimed back on Saturday that none of my blogs are winnable in a libel or slander law suit, they are the truth, and truth is an automatic legal defense to that charge should it ever be made against me, yo. Hey, my story is wild enough without ever needing to lie or even stretch the truth. Now in my great 1994 book, “TPB”, I did exaggerate a wee bit and had to do lots of name changes of peeps and places, you know, the typical stuff so as to keep from getting all soo’d up, use-sue, two-tow, and yes, did anyone catch how when I tried to blog earlier this very thing, the error-hack or whatever Sir Andrews-1975, actually made it come out the same, a reverse hack just to show me I am not imagining any of these things, SOOOOOOOO, WEIN, Sir Arthur Crane of TCE, (Thompson Consumer Electronics).

 

 

 

Warp speed Speers Gramps, like WOW, his son was very nice to me that day after Christmas in 1997. He put me onto the great family secrets and just as the Library of Congress (LOC), he and they all seemed to know stuff that I was kept intentionally clueless of for a very long time. I thought that me’ sweet whittle mommy was getting drunk all throughout the entire nineties decade because of her unpleasant coworker, the lovely Mizz Emily and without her picture anywhere, Sir Moe Bandy. It turned out that my mother was feeling beyond ambivalent about whether to take a great family secret to the grave with her, you all know, P&M, not PM, but Patty & Merry. How much of this is absurdity folks? If one out of ten things is all that is naut ludicrous, it still would leave an impossible-2-ignore bunch of raspberry dreams, would it naut, or should I say, nightmares????????????? I know that the reason for my mom being in the hospital was naut some guilt trip or from over-drinking. It was because she fell under a ruthless psychic attack by the witch’s coven of Atlantic City, P & S. Those wonderful adorable fantastic two women are so lovely and kind. Remember the sub-titles people. WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

 

 

My ROKU-TV service is better than nothing but I twuwee miss my old Comcast TV service with real live channels. They do not let me get CNN without paying for it, but they let me get that butt wipe other thing ‘VOA’ or whatever the Trump-lovers are into. During those mid-term elections they only advertised the red politics, never ever showing an ad FOR Charlie Crist an always FOR Desantis. I hopefully can switch back in 2023, but I am a realist. I think next year I’ll be packing up for South America to never ever friggin’ return, yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!! Speaking of the numbers that go from Jimmy Stone firing me in 2004 (20-04), and going back to PH-DAY of 1996, and my I-Ching soul-trip to see Sarah; another in-between number that I thought to be so benign jumped out at me just last night. The number of 14-98. All we need to do here is subtract the small number from the large one, 98 minus 14 and then keep the fourteen and reuse the difference number of 84, just as Comcast thought doing that phone number promotion was so funny a number of years back while I lived at the PEEHA BUILDING. HA-HA-HA, “weel weel fwunny”, Mister Elmer Fwudddd.

 

 

 

The other HUUUUUGE time trip that I soul-traveled into while residing at the Highview Apartments, and B4 my move into the Harvard Avenue home in Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG, was in 1996. I told everyone back in 1968 that I came from 1997, and that is naut a typo-error folks, I said 1997, even though I knew perfectly Pennock well that I came from the year previous to that one. When I got there I was with a lot of kids from my old high school in Westmont, (Haddon Township) in the mighty and illustrious NJUSAESMWG. I told them that I came there from 1997, and that I was trying to escape a family curse. This all happened right around the very same exact time that I ran into my son in law for real and naut in some dreaming-interaction. He was only 16 years old then in 1996 and I had just come from Haddonwood. I was heading home to Highview and phoned my mom that I was late so she could adjust the dinner meal time and she was real pissed off but this is naut the point. While on the payphone, he came right to my vehicle and when I got off the phone he told me that my hubcap was all banged up. After I had left Haddonwood the reason that I was late was that I had stopped off at a psychic shop nearby the health club called, “The Gathering Place”, owned by a Wiccan of some kind named Cathy. While there, I could naut miss hearing a constant banging sound. That was my hubcap being intentionally struck and damaged. Thirty minutes later at this payphone, Nick told me that it is all banged up and was smirking. He seems to have some affinity with cars and me and my daughter OF COURSE, both in waking and non-waking worlds. He also has some strange time deal going on, as this all happened to me at practically the same time as the time trip, so let me now folks get back to that. I had in my SATURN CAR in this time trip back to my high school and the year 1968, a tablet. Back then I was not able to tell what that was. I only know that I was able to read magical newspapers with it and the print would magically change. It looked like a shoebox only a wee bit differently shaped than one, but that is how I always described it until very recently when realizing one day about half a dozen years or so ago that this was a TABLET. In the BIBLE, many things are described and in ways as the prophets were best able to do so without understanding our modern world and its various technologies. One prophet describes a black hawk helicopter in the King James Version (KJV), as a monster with giant black eyes and wings that sound like many chariots. I would describe that chopper in the very same way if this was thousands of years ago and I saw one and had to try telling peeps about it, yo, so I did the shoebox thing with the tablet. I realize that truth now, unlike in the nineties when this first went down, Mister RPL Sivo yo. This device was stolen by some of Nick’s pals and they were all the age he was, BUT EVEN BACK IN 1968, and taking all of this and in league with Sat Nurine and his wild dreaming-interaction that he told me about back at the Harvest job in 2011 with JULIA WHITE, only his Julia White was his boss at some bus company near the famous Maryland Hospital named Bethesda if I am saying and spelling it at all correctly, and in that wild dream, the lady said a lot of wild things too lengthy to get into right now, and yes, proving zillions of other things about all of this. As you know, it was a wee bit earlier than his telling me that dream that I had a doozie-whopper of my own, oh wonderful President Obama sir. In it, Nick and I were sitting at a bench right one of the perimeter areas of NYC’s great and illustrious Central-Park. Suddenly, the bus made a full 90 degree turn that only electrical carts are able to do. Long Story Short (LSS), he told me how he my daughter had broken up and that he was really in the doghouse with something but he wouldn’t tell me more than this. This happened about three or four years as we all know, B4 the actual break up did occur. But in that trip I took to 1968, he and his pals stole the tablet (magical-shoebox) from my car. They were determined to take it and managed to do it no matter how hard I tried preventing it from happening. Do I believe both Julia White and Nick Cannon are soul-travelers? You bet your donuts and coffee juices I do, oh world. This all indeed happen to me, it is real. No one can talk me out of any of this stuff. Not for “one damn minute”, oh great Captain Spock, and Admiral Kirk-Whales-Hicks-Glands!!!! Did anyone yet figure out why the mighty Sir Jimmy Stone fired me for seemingly and absolutely no valid reason back on 09/01/2004, from my job at the Griffin Pipe Company? Right after Mizz Helen Harris was threatened to stop assisting me in my hopes of getting to the bottom of my SPACEFORCE-OTAMMITE-MILI-2-FORCE WOE-WHIZ-ME’S, he comes in and says, “Get your personal stuff together and clear out of here, you’re fired”. Tell me I don’t have a legitimate story to blog with all of this nightmare hellishness, just go ahead lovely State Attorney General Mizz gorgeous Moody, and Sir Sheriff Ken Mascara of Saint Lucie County. You all just go right ahead and tell me that, AND WITH A DARN STRAIGHT FACE TOO, I want to see you hold a straight friggin’ face, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

I could type on and on for a solid straight decade great people. I of course will naut be doing that. Things can always wait, and I wish to state, 1988, that indeed yes, I AM STILL HERE.

 

 

 

 

Time travel is physically impossible, and even sending information is impossible, at least with any technology that we presently understand here on this Earth as of this date posted on this blog. Information is partially a non-energy. You would naut think that on the surface of things, but it is true. If it were naut true lovely Mizz Blake, then we could send information backward. Of course it can be sent forward. That is simply called TIME-DELAY. The trick is sending it back. Only energy is timeless and has thus, no time barrier at all. Only our dreaming mind is able to accomplish this feat. It can do this and we all know it. Some such as myself have personally experienced this, and yet, it is still subject to an even higher force, the 7th dimensional lawtron system. A continuous battle endlessly exists between the Exploratron’s (us) and the lawtrons (the seventh dimension). This will take a lot of time to fully begin exploring. My life and the battle of Jim Burr and Patty Hollister is all a HUUUUUUGE part of this entire ugly mess straight from beyond the GATES OF DOGTOWN itself!!!!

 

 

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