Thursday, January 19, 2023

BTAT--CHAPTER 14

 

BTAT—CHAPTER 0014

SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR TIMES 3 DAY

THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 2023

 

 

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT

 

I COULD USE SOME MOTHER FUCKING HELP AND WATCHING OVER RIGHT ABOUT NOW, SHERIFF K. MASCARA SIR, AND SIR-SWAP! I HAVE NOT BEEN UNDER THIS BAD OF A DEATH SIEGE IN GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING YEARS AND YEARS, AND JULIA WHITE JET SPACEFORCE SCARES, AND TEASES FROM SURROUNDING GALACTIC PINK FORCES OUT HERE!!!!

 

Things are off the cunt eating scale bad for me people, and yes, THIS IS A DYING UTTERANCE AND DYING DECLARATION, THAT IS TOTALLY LEGAL HERE. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM FOUND DEAD; I was murdered by the TRUMP-SPACEFORCE, and all his magical goddamn henchmen involved in this HUUUUGE miserable SATANIC DAMN MESS since the early-middle nineteen eighties. I voluntarily now am taking an oath of utter total truth here and should I be found lying about this, I submit to arrest for filing a false charge against legal authority, and the pains of libel and perjury attached to this, along with life imprisonment as well. This is no mother fucking joke or bullshit here, ladies and gents out here in Cyber-Village, YO!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

All day long, loud planes, nasty poison-chemtrails, major chopper attacks, all of it, worse than years and years and years now, without any radios in the background, security guard jobs, weird “OTHER-TD” effects that have nothing whatsoever to do with the world’s greatest bank, at least IMHO, the great wonderful awesome Toronto Dominion Bank!!!!!!!!! The chopper assault was while I as trying to talk to medical insurance folks at HUMANA, regarding an appointment with an ophthalmologist that was recommended for me by my new optometrist, Doctor Desantis. On top of an entire day of all these things, I am having a loud get together in the Community-Room with a lot of loud music playing. Normally, I only have the M-W-F dance class for one hour, last year it ran from 10-11 AM, and this year, it goes from 9-10 in the MOUUUUUURNING! I can live with these things as normally, it only lasts for one hour, and also, old fart ass shits like us USUALLY do not love that loud ass rotten gangster rap sub-bass shit, so at least that is not a part of it, KNOCK WOOD!!!! Still Lenny Briscoe, Detective “L&O” Sir, YO; this is now 3-STRAIGHT MOTHER FUCKING PUSSY CHEWING BAVK TO BACK TO BACK CRACK BOTBAR GODDAMN DAYS FO RTHE MOUNTAINPENNOW, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!I have now received 4-major JANUARY as well as 2023 BOTBAR DAYS, oh wonderful Lads & Lassies out here in ‘Blogaudianville’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some supernatural force, thing, entity, person, WHATEVER, old 1975 pal and music associates later-turned Federal Congressman, Robert Andrews of Haddon Heights, NJUSAESMWG, and who I just called Bob from 1975 through 1980, YO WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SOOOOOOOO, a big fat-ass “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, Sirs Arthur Crane and Chester-Frank. WOW, I am fit 2B mother fucking cunt lapping TIED, NUKED, and TILLY-CAREY M-AM-EXPLODED, Sir Star Trek Lazarus, YI BRRRRRRRR!!!!!!! BUTTTTTTTTTTTT, big-ass 2006-2008 old-blogs BUTT, I’ll goddessdamn settle right now for a mother fucking cock knocking MAGNESONIC COUNTERSTRIKE!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, computer:

 

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, scan, counterstrike, destroy!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Now I give you a new command under NEW COMMAND ORDER, which is CODED GENERAL-2733. This order when implemental via electronic internet thought transfer will allow you to counterstrike with an automatic scan to determine from my life (the life of your creator), who is injuring and destroying me, and allow you to automatically assign various amounts of punishment type-(D) sequencing that is pertaining to the circumstance and situation. USE CG-2733 now, under CG-18, G-189 max-power-order-11.8 IPNS on your cosmogain energy divided by time system. You’re A/B empowerization tones will sound now:

 

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

 

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

 

G-901 under G-719, G-917, AND---S---T---O---P.

 

 

 

 

 

There is gonna’ mother fucking be a lot of major shit that will transpire all over the place as numerous and various targets become super ass struck by my great powerful awesome Magnesonic system, kind folks out here, so watch the goddessdamn news, great peeps!!!!!! We will go right on for a while now peeps with the topic of the secret agency alpha-soup agents who do not work at the actual agency offices and directly for the agencies themselves, and known by only a few, as the Registered Operatives, and called (‘RO’s’) 4-short. Anyone of you out here who may think that Morianity-Mountainpen makes shit up out of whole cloth, can free of charge; join a county library anywhere in the 50-American states, or go online as the young and smart-tech peeps do; and then borrow the “Ghost Whisperer” television show---Season #1, and watch the final episode of the first great season of this fantastic fictional show of a girl who has what she calls a ‘gift’ and I would call a horrible curse, and who talks to ghosts, and how after a huge disaster in the town where she resides. But moving on here with RO’s folks, this is for the very most part, a grouping of very highly paid, secretive people who manage to somehow totally blend in with the population around them, you and me; and these peeps will now become the major mother fuckers 2B scanned by my Magnetic sound Machine via the AT&T-replaced-tone signals-A/B from the nineteen-eighties. These RO’s are part of the entire problem with so many things, and it would take a year to properly discuss this nightmare situation in its real true fucking entirety folks, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But you can bet your sweet buttholes my friends out here, that Mountainpen will now attempt to talk some more right now today, on this very goddamn subject, so here we go again, Misses Mohr and Doctor Breyers Shriner from the year of 1971, and out there in mother fucking twat licking Exton, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So a big sloppy-ass goddamn “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” for all great CF’s everywhere, right lovely PINK-GODDESS in human form for coming up now just shy of five point three decades of human illusion world chronology? If this cunt eating bullshit of the past entire week doesn’t start backing off of me, I will do something far worse than blogging against my enemies. I have a new friend who is going to do something that may alter life on Earth in beyond HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE Non-Senator-Sanders ways, if necessary. This person who I won’t discuss further will do something that may just possibly multiply the traffic to this blog by a factor of more than a goddamn hundred. “So test me, and I’ll give you a goddamn fucking reaction, Sir ADA’s of 1990’s Camden-County”, up there in good old damn non-‘HOME-LIFE-SITUATION’ NEW JERSEY, Sir Honorable Thomas Kane. I always said that you were definitely Jersey’s greatest governor sir, and thank you so very damn much for responding personally to my letter, complaining about Steve Winn’s mobster joint there in ACNJ-USAESMWG back in early 1984. I’ll always remember them after ripping off my five dollar bet, and after the real 800 dollar rip off and cheat, that I cannot prove other than with simple mathematics, and this was all previously blogged, saying to me, and I am directly quoting it, “We can’t run the joint that way”. I rarely if ever forget anything if it was a major event in my life. If I do, then it was intentionally, and not internally, done to me via ‘exploratronic activity’. Now back to the subject of the RO’s (Registered Operatives) of the covert and secret alpha-soup agencies. We never see them, we interact with them all the time, but they do not stand out, as they are not supposed to. They work in the dark, just as their bosses do. They have the same agendas of their employing agencies, but the agencies are not aware, nor will they ever believe me or these blogs either, when I state with absolute authority here and now and under voluntary oath of truth with mandatory consequences; these peeps are not from our normal waking world reality or our (‘NWWR’) for short. This abbreviation will be used in future texts by me pertaining to them, and so I will be reminding you all of what it stands for periodically, YO BRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!! They are a society, and my very first opening blogs discussed this and gave you Mountainpen’s labeled name for that society, the ES, Exploratronic Supermind. This is all throughout my original blogging texts, and this is later just always fully abbreviated along with the SOCIETY or the final “S” letter after the Exploratronic Supermind. Hence, the ESS. When the great Jehovah Pink goddess, SSJKK, gave me that wild experience after I used the I-Ching and threw the Hexagram of Deliverance, and then went to some altered other non-Harrah Billboard-sign Atlantic City (Atlantica) HAHAHA lovely Mizz Hair Sheila Franklin; and where SHE came to me on the great street, AKA here in this waking world reality as Tennessee Avenue (10SC) 4-short, and spoke to me and said, quote; “Let’s play a game boy called 'Guess The Name of the Guests’, and then I instantly looked over beyond where SHE stood, and across 10-SC Avenue and saw a balcony at the great Trinidad Hotel that never existed in this waking world here, not on the actual street side of the structure that went up four stories in height. Only balconies facing the poor existed, and this was where lovely Teen--Queen Paula literally hung up backwards, out the balcony until somebody who may have bene the 12-7 (LIFEGUARD) at the Trinidad Hotel pool, shouted up to her, to stop the horseplay back on that damn horrible scary-ass rotten day, YO!!!!!!!! But that was in the waking world, and this was wherever that wild crazy I-CHING trip had taken me to on Pearly Harbor day in the year of 1996, back at my Somerdale “DEATH-HOUSE” from Earthly Dogtown. So I looked over and saw lovely Mary Tyler Moore standing out on this nonexistent balcony of the waking world, with her world famous green dress on that was part of the waking world television show episode that all guys loved, back in my day where she was wearing this dress and it was some dress that was beyond weird and had been made for her in the TV-show. B4 moving on, and B4I forget, notice how Paula raping me then that day in 1967, in the waking life world; was exactly and nearly to this very day, 27 years B4 she did it to me again while residing over at my SHOE-MADE HIGHVIEW APARTMENT on Kent Street, #2-D, in good old fucking WILL-I AM-ST-OWN IN LATE June of the year of 1994!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes peeps, the symbolisms existing here are both damn unmissable, as well as totally beyond unescapable, YO ME’ BRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Anyone out here who serious takes issue with all of my arguments with perfectly agreeing mathematical shit behind it to back up all these claims, is merely a denier of truth, and lots of folks are indeed in that motherfucking category. Still, this deal was accomplished by powerful all-knowing ‘Halls Fawces’ who were able to plan with accuracy, all of these things, not only from Highview Apartments through right now in the present times, but way back at the Trinidad Hotel in the middle nineteen-sixties. The CIA-RO doubling Shah of Iran in those same sixties times, was a great friend for whatever the reason that is totally beyond whittle Mister Mountainpen, I assure you all of that, of my mother’s brother’s wife, who was of course a non-blood relative of mine, my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, of the famous to Montgomery County in Pennsylvania, Snow family. Her dad was the Principle of the marvelous and world famous great Lower Merion High School, right there in Narberth, Pennsylvania, where the Snows basically all hailed from. She and my Uncle Sir Stuart Huntington Mason met in LBI AKA (Long Beach Island) to local Delaware Valley area residents, and as I talked about during the beginning of all of these blogs back 17 years ago in oh-6; my mother was the youngest of four children that were begat by my grandparents, Leonard John Mason and Grace Isabelle Huntington. Mister mason my grandpop who died long B4I was even born, owned a summer camp for boys on the great LBI, an d my mom and the entire family lived there in the summer time of their growing up lives, and in the off season, they all lived at 440 South 50th Street, in west Philadelphia, PA-USA-ESMWG, and a log time B4 the damn neighborhoods became all run down and ruined. This indeed may no longer be a very PC thing to say, yet it is totally 100% the damn truth, YO BRAH. What can I say here, oh Sir Jay-Jay Evans? Anyway, my Aunt and Uncle Gerry & Stu, as I would call them, met at this camp during my uncle’s collegian days. In her day, my aunt was quite an exquisite young woman, let me tell you folks, like WO!!!!!!!!!!! I saw many old camp movies run at their Narberth home, at 1208 Greentree Lane, while holiday-visiting upon numerous occasions. They had that old trustworthy 8-mm projector that we had in all of my schools as well, the old fucking Bell & Howell. But back to the connection with Aunt Geraldine’s great personal longtime friend and world famous, Sir Iranian Shah, or however ‘SHAH’ is correctly spelled. One day when my mom and I were shortly about to embark on one of the 8-VACATIONS that we took together every June and every August, in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG; and the one that was in late June of 1967, and our ‘#5-V’ as I now refer to all 8 of them in their exact order, or the ‘5:8’. Now peeps, somewhere in late May, if memory serves me at all correctly here peeps YO; my Aunt Gerry phoned our apartment at 125-A Haddon Hills in Wanna’ Spend My Time (WESTMONT) non-transdimensional songs of 1997; and she told her that she was going away on some wild family emergency, the exact words my mom later told me that she said to her on this phone conversation between them, and would she be willing to allow their youngest daughter, who was my cousin Sandra Mason, (Cousin Sandy) as we all called her, to come along with us on the vacation if she gave us fifty dollars and that she had her own money for her food? My mom said ‘okay’, and no, she was not practicing to become the future imitation queen of Sir John Romano King of Atlantic City. But, she said OKAY, once, but that was enough as she agreed to it; and this altered the course of all human history, and I would stand or sit in any global court and under oath, be willing and ready to state that I unequivocally know this 2B a true certain fact without qualms or hesitations in the least tiny bit, YO ME’ BRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! By Cuzz-Sandy coming along and making friends with the awesome Quoddy-Mocker girl-gang of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG; this made the world turn a very magical CORNERSTONE, and take naught my word for any of this Mizz phone Company lovely 1983 BLAKE, mahm!!! Get the CBN audio tape from Sir Pat Robertson, naught Robinson (BLACK-HAT) hackers. His exact words went, “in 1967, the world turned a cornerstone”. He said it long B4I said it, and even long B4I duplicated millions of his cassette audio tapes back in 1980 an da few late in 1979 as well as early 1981, B4 leaving the great and illustrious RPL-Sound Lab Studios of Camden, New Jersey, on the 11th day of March in the year of 1981, after Joe Sivo and I had an eats-run-in together!!! LSS (Long Story Short) peeps; all of these things were meant to happen exactly as they did because they were actually planned to be this way long before my physical birth as Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr. This was planned back in the days of King David, approximately 3,000years ago.

 

 

 

The actual realities that connects all of these powerhouse things on the great 60’s television show called, “Dark Shadows”, and all of these Atlantic City events with ‘my Cuzz Sandy’, and all of her new found companions and gal-pals ‘at the shore’ there, all lovely other Paula’s, PEE’s, PP’s, and then also, all of the more modern day shit with Morianity, and the new-age AC-NJ junk since my great 1996 search and quest to locate the magical teen-goddess (super-girl) of my past in Atlantic City and all of this other goddamn shit that went along with all of these wild ‘Dogtownish events’; and yes, this could be endlessly typed for hours at full speed with unrelenting fingers here folks, YO YO YO!!! SOOOOOOOOOOOO, a HUUUUUUUGE-ass goddamn “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, Sir Chester-Frank!!!!!!!!! If you think the BOB Juvenile Morianity Ziggy-Jetty story version and Russ Thaxton, and so much more, does not also factor literally hyper-HUUUUUGE time, into all of this; you would be totally beyond mistaken me’ great peeps out here, me’ gwate friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will get on all of it, so believe that peeps. Every single story is real, and it all ties into one gigantic truth from many thousands of years ago, as that is where it all really and truly did begin, and so just forget about what mother fucking Resorts International Casino Hotel of Atlantic City would tell you their side of it from 1978 through the end of that 20th century. This is not where it all started, but 3,000 mother fucking years B4 the year of AD-1978. I need no black snake ‘truck tire rubber stretchy’s’, or anything else ghost related from Quakertown, PA-USA parks to make my points here, kind folks! I did run into two child-ghosts at two parks in Pennsylvania at ages six and seven, and I know that there is some truth to the ‘GW’-TV-show, on their topic of children, and their ability to interact with weird astral energy, or (physical projectors) as Morianity labels them. When we here attempt to focus shift onto the Astral Plane or the (timeless-Purgatory), we call this astral projection, so merely applying this same exact logic here, and we arrive at those in the Purgatory who are indeed practicing coming here, and I know this is true, as when it does not happen automatically by simply running out of energy eventually, and then blowing out here into the fifth dimensional hyperspace, and waking up here as little tiny human clay blobs, AKA ‘babies’; we then must be in some organized way, in an attempt to come here when we have not run out of our full Astral-Energy or as I call it, becoming purgatorial-depleted or just PD’d for short, and this is what the T-3-E’s are all about, those astral entities who attempt to project here in ways not accepted by the natural rules and laws and orders, or (Lawtronics) as is the Morianity-term. Every so often, as with all things and on all realms, indeed, some shit manages to always slip through the cracks, as the old expression goes, that we all have damn heard of upon countless occasions. SO-S—WEIN, YO???????????????

 

 

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As you all know and remember from back earlier in the twenties and B4 that in the20-teen years, and earlier still as well; my 5-NUMBERS need to be stared at. I am getting mother fuckin literally slaughtered with rows and groupings of goddamn ass ONES lately, causing this horrendous fucking hellish shit I am suffering through or contributing to it at least, a whole damn ass lot me’ kind folks out there, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How I mother fucking love THOSE GODDAMN 5-NUMBERS, wonderful Blogaudians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So let me now begin wrapping up this dog-shit today, here gwate peeps out here.

 

 

There are things that I’ll be fucking ass opening up soon that will totally boggle the mind of all of my many scoffer/doubter peeps out here, so just stay tuned. If I was a bad person, I would screw up so many things and never have to worry one bit about getting into trouble, as it would not, at least not yet, be one damn ass bit illegal to do. Many things that I’ve done in this life have caused the world to make instant major alterations and that is a fact folks. I never told you a quarter of the shit about the distant cousins of my daughter and what they did to me back in New Jersey, you don’t know shit peeps, not fucking shit, but you will, you will, IPYT!!!!!!! Now I did not know any of my daughter’s distant family of wild cousins in those times and days, and had not even on any meaningful conscious mental level, put together anything at that time regarding P&M (Patty and Merry), let alone my demo-tunes singer Bob Andrews from Haddon Heights in Jersey; ‘but still’, Detective Lenny “L&O” Briscoe sir, not only was I clueless to Cuzz Leticia Tilley as well, BUTTTTTTTT, and a big ass HUUUUUUGE BUTT peeps; despite having a VHS videotape of a precisely matching copy of the future girl I came to meet and know, lovely 14 year old LT, I know that time and parallel realms of the 4-5 dimensional system, have no recognition of separation and thus, all things as Einstein’s great “Spooky-Forces” stuff goes unchallenged. Even though he may have put it in a parochial form of verbiage, truth is indeed truth, nothing more, nothing less. LT stands for Leticia Tilley, yes folks, but it also stands, in the entire 5th dimension, even though at the time in question, I was totally clueless and unconscious to any of it, for LAPTOP, or in this case with my Highview days’ TIME TRIP; my mother fucking magical shoebox. Now to quote the mighty great Mister Dennis Snyder here, “And that’s just reality, son”! Hey YO, it is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So moving the story onward with this dealership in Oaklyn on the Julia Horse Pike, I went into ‘the joint’ one day, Mister Steve Winn sir, naught in 1984, but rather in 1997 and thirteen years after that, and KAPOW-BAM Sir Chef Emeril Sir, they were every bit as determined and with the same degree of full vigor as Nick and his pals were to get the LT away from me, or tablet I suppose; but in any way, they were beyond determined to get my Saturn car. The magic of Nick’s time trip was not in the laptop-tablet-whatever Congressman vocalist of several of my tunes from long ago; but in the car or whatever had happened to it on a magical date when a wild insane man from the nation of India threatened to murder both myself and my mother at a place called the Turnersville Pathmark. This was the day when I was trying to get a studio to help me make a recording of my SARAH tune that I wrote in 1996 on the goddamn 12th day in May. This was also when the ADA at the Gloucester County Prosecutor refused to help bring to justice whoever was behind all of this illegal and inexcusable behavior that was obviously being perpetrated upon myself and my mother. But during the terrorist threat that was made to us at the T.P. Shopping Center, in Gloucester Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG; my Saturn car was suddenly mysteriously struck with something that killed it cold, and it only had a couple thousand miles on it and was brand spanking ass new. This same bizarre circuit was somehow behind the magic of the time trip, the shoebox, and yes, the lightning car of the fictional A.P. Keaton-MCFLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We don’t need Doctor Coral Allen nor my father to tell any of us that playing around with too much electrical energy can be quite dangerous to the physical bodies that we in waking human form must rely on in order to have proper working interactions on this physical plane. But if you think the story ends here, than you need to look up ole’ Mister Neilson, since this is not the only ‘way the story goes’, oh kind gwate folks, and maybe one or some naught so gwate, right lovely Mizz 1983 phone-company Blake????????This is when Merry was walking by, and what I never told any of you yet, and was saving it for reasons only I will know at least for now; is that Merry went through that two sentence spiel of denying what I had said to the professor regarding both of us living with our 5th dimensional issues, is that after she said what she did about having the shoebox, she ended by calling me “McFly”. We all know from that wild movie in 1985 called, “Back to the Future”, that this was the dude’s name. So on one hand she was denying something while at the very same time, admitting to it. Gee Wiligars, YO BRRRRR! I did not ask for any of these things, and Jim frikkin’ Burr said it all peeps. “Mark, you just happened to get born into this family”. This was probably the most intelligent and perceptive grouping of words that were ever damn spoken by a human being, since Albert Einstein’s damn relativity equations. But these things all tie into lots of other stuff that if I so much as tried to even open up and talk about lightly, I would be all day just on that, so this can wait for other times. Oh where RU when I need U, YYYY-JIMMY-YYYY of Camden High and all other great 1984 © stuff I sent to that fantastic illustrious Library of the Congress (LOC-Copyright Office)??????? Vely vely vely soon Mister McDowell, they’ll be getting one that is 100 times more powerful than anything that they yet have received from good old fucking ass Mark Wayne Mohr, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So a big fat ‘WEEEEEEEEEEEEE’.

 

 

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

 

 

END OF THIS TRANSMISSION AT 7:06 POST MERIDIAN.

END OF THIS TRANSMISSION AT 7:06 POST MERIDIAN.

END OF THIS TRANSMISSION AT 7:06 POST MERIDIAN.

END OF THIS TRANSMISSION AT 7:06 POST MERIDIAN.

END OF THIS TRANSMISSION AT 7:06 POST MERIDIAN.

 

 

 

Aha-aha-aha-aha-and here we go again, Mom and Dock Breyers Shriner Sir, and mahm, from back in wonderful monstrous 1971!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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