BTAT—CHAPTER 0022
Thursday, February 9, 2023
BLOG START TIME: 12:11
(And looking at the time, Sir DCR and © Office)
WOW-WEE WOWSER WO folks,
I am still here at the ole’ library, and the trip in here today was Dogtown on steroids, cubed and CUBAN!!!!!!!!!! A bad
accident, a stopped railroad train like that day of 2019 summer time jury duty,
and all sorts of cones and roadwork everywhere to boot. I honestly didn’t think
I’d ever arrive here today. Hey folks, I did though, and that’s all that counts,
the famous
business worlds ‘BOTTOM-LINE’, to quote WALL STREETERS, huh world???
As Chester-Frank may say real well at some local New Jersey bar back in summer
time of 1999, “WEEEEEE”!!!
Someone or
something great Captain Shatner
Kirk sir; did not want me to get here to this whittle ole’ library
today. I have no earth shattering stuff to tell today, just some basic things.
I am researching all possible new blogger sites to use and be rid of the
blogger dot com all together, as well as the 16 dollar WIX website. I refuse to
continue 2B intimidated by some new enemy that I have seemingly picked up since
last year’s shy of Halloween time who is unrelentingly attempting to destroy
this blog, the BOM forever. I have calls and letters into numerous internet
policing and government authorities and I plan to get 2 the bottom of who this
is and then go after them LEGALLY, all perfectly and totally ‘LEEEEEEEEEEGALLY’, CUZZ DONNIE BOY. They have no
right 2B endlessly interfering with this major globally important project, and
I will do everything in my damn ass ‘puker-power’ to protect and defend myself AND MY LEGAL RIGHTS
TO FREEDOM OF SPEECH IN THE UNITED STATES!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had a real
powerful suspicion when this began late last year shortly after I began 2 start
up this BOM project after a quarter decade off-time that this wouldn’t just
quietly go away into that good night. I fully believe now that SIR SWAP hit it
all smack dab on the nose years ago telling me who
is behind my “woe-whiz-me’s” as well!!!! If I’m wrong, please accept
apology-#2, as I can only go with what is presented
and given to me by those closest to me, and no one is God Almighty. Things like this prove that the entire world is a HUUUUGE joke, huh great
Senator
Sanders,
sir?????????????
Speaking of politics, I enjoyed the State of the Union speech by
President Joe R. Biden a couple nights ago. BRAVO buddy, great job.
You showed all of them, and anyone who doesn’t think he is on top of his game
found out how quickly he managed to turn the negatives into opposing polarities;
a very clever trick to maneuver by anyone on a really quick off the cuff level,
as he did. He turned the heckling into forced
ownership. Now you guys on the far right OWN, just like lovely
OPRAH, all the junk. Real cool wonderful awesome job, Mister President Sir, I
am very proud of you. YOU KICKED BUTT oh wonderful sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still, if anyone tried to tell me four decades or more back in time that the
world would devolve into the type of behavior that I saw during the address, I
would have slugged them in the nose for trying to insult my intelligence with a
tale that utterly fantastic, only here we are today, oh world. To quote my kid
and the talking MIDGE; yes I found their behavior totally “disgusting”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But I do have a newfound respect for the new Speaker, mister KM.
Okay, I am holding BOTBUR and I am pretty damn fucking
sure this will be a major BOTBAR day. It seems when I went
to check to make sure this flash drive is saving the blog, it not only is not, but
it is entirely broken and whatever you would call it in the computer jargon.
Two computers were used and it seems to be totally dead, so hackers must have
done something to wreck it. This library is filled with hacking MISOE enemies,
and even though I have several friends who help me here, all it takes is one
secret enemy who could be anyone of these employees. The reason I am still here
and not at home is because my geek-guy came over Monday and the connector
system that he told me to purchase at the Vero Beach Best Buy store back last
year, is a reverse system for sending a signal to the ROKU jack from the old
computer that I bought in 2010 at the Walmart store. He will be coming back
later B4 the end of this week, and that is all I will tell you. He will have
switched the old stuff with the ones I will need to make it all work, saving me
a damn trip back to Vero Beach. Yes I fucked up and said STAPLES on several prior blogs (PBHE),
WEIN-SOSO? Not one thing is working out for me folks, it is truly one of the worst
goddamn mother fucking years of my entire life, and it is not showing any signs
of reversing for me. Also a lot of loud aerial harassment is ongoing. Then the
road and traffic woes when trying to get here today is off the dials and scales
putrid and monstrous, like nothing that I have experienced even remotely in all
the time since I started up this project last autumn. Some scum bag ROWE enemy
of the MISOE obviously managed to put into all of the machines here, something
that would erase and ruin my flash drive. This will all stop once I am home
blogging again, and I will have a switch to completely turn off my internet
while doing the blogs on my word-office programs, turning it back on only to
post up to the sites.
This is definitely the
worst SPACEFORCE ASSAULT that I have
experienced since the previous century. Let me tell you something great peeps
out there, YO. Hackers are making this machine switch back and forth on many
screens while typing this, making me keep clicking the “HOME” prompt on top of
the page next to the “FILE” prompt. Yes, getting back to telling you something.
ROWES know that Sarah Krassle and I have had a very special interaction ever
since my boyhood days in Atlantic City on 10-SC Avenue during my 8 VACA-stays
with my mom at the Trinidad (TRINITY) Hotel. These 8 VACA’s were late June and
middle August of 1965, 1966, 1967, and 1968, and I screwed up on a previous blog and said I went
back to my old high school to the year of 1969, and meant to type in obviously
the year of 1968. But getting back to me’ ole’ pernt here Sir
Archibald Queens Bunker Sir, these ROWE pricks know more about me, and the shit
shared between Pink goddess and me way back then; then I know about it all myself.
As I speak, THE DEATH ANGEL IS ON ME TODAY LIKE FLOATING
TURDS IN A TOILET BOWL, kind wonderful great folks out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This prick Sir Mortimer Mortino has been very bad around me for years now, and it
never ever mother fucking quits. These miserable
ROWES are limitless in their abilities to screw with me. But the
reasons behind it is beyond secretive and not even shared with their bosses.
They do know in the offices that I have exposed what is truly going on, but
they do not wish for any of this to ever become known by the global population.
When you are in Purgatory, the most horrible thing beyond what mortal man’s
mind can begin to ever conceive of is ENDLESSNESS!!!!!!! Your mortal mind is
telling you that I am full of shit. Peeps here think ETERNAL LIFE is some great fantastic gift or
heaven, and it is anything but that. The only way to make some
of you get this truth is by telling you all to watch a particular TWILIGHT ZONE TV-SHOW from the 60’s, the original
shows done, and the
episode with “PIP”, played by Mister Sebastian Cabot. You need to
get that show, watch it five times straight, and only the final ten minutes of
it should UB pressed 4 time. The ending of the show is where Sir SC says to the little shit head criminal who was shot and killed
by the police during a robbery that he had just committed, and he
said to him, “This is the other place”.
Only in the great capital city of SDK is the awareness of endlessness
removed from us by SSJKK-Pink Goddess SCYLLA!!!!!!!!!!! What is
used by HER to accomplish this, if I am naught mistaken here Mizz Blake, is my
motorcycle CHAIN; given to me by ‘BBO’-Sir John Henningsen. When I tried to
tell these things right at the very beginning of this BOM blog-project, I was ruthlessly persecuted
back then up in New Jersey. I had all sorts of powerful crazy wild
things happen all around me but I kept
fucking persevering with this project, just as I am doing right now all the way
here more than a decade and a half later on down here in Flowerland, AKA FLORIDA-USA. I began to discuss
EXPLORATRONICS and the three types of exploratrons, type 1, 2, and 3. We are
all type one, we are soul, and we dream and we travel. As soon as I got into
this more and more, the world began to change in major ways. At first, when I
Googled up EXPLORATRON, the system would take me to my blogs and only there, nowhere
else!!!!!!!!!!!! Suddenly however, I vanished and the Google Gods would take
anyone who Googled up the topic, to numerous other places having nothing
whatsoever to do with Morianity and the Blogs of Mountainpen (BOM). How was
this done? I-CHING and various types of other methodologies for inducing
controlled trips (time travel) so that the enemy TYPE-3-Exploratrons could
first get back into something tangible whereby they could begin to launch other
things and the send huge high traffic quantity BOTS to their sites and then use
the Google-Ranking System (GRS) to intentionally make my story vanish magically
away and only have the giant google gods take peeps who may search for this subject,
to entirely different topics and stuff having nothing whatsoever to do with my
exploratronic realities being taught on these BOM-BLOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was
intentional manipulation with hidden illegal overtones to shut my freedom of
speech rights up and get totally and completely away with it forever. No
goddamn questions ever asked. It is no different at all than whoever is trying
to shut down my blogs ever since the Alpha-Tweet 2022-O back last October, YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO ME’ BREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How do I know all this?
Well, I know that I-Ching really works, and it isn’t merely some ‘DARK SHADOWS’ TV-SHOW fantasy, as I have worked
it three times; once in 1969, once in 1986, and once in 1996.
It really works, and anyone who doesn’t believe this should get themselves
those 6 wands and toss them, and do just what I did. The last time in 1996 was on Pearl Harbor
Day, 12-07-1996. I tossed them and threw the Hexagram of Deliverance. Then I stared at it for
half an hour sitting up on the foot of my bed in my room with a dull 25 watt
lightbulb on. The next thing I knew was being with Sarah on 10-SC Avenue, and having
that wild experience with HER concerning the magic game SHE wanted to play and
the great Mary Moore and her green dress while she stood on a balcony that did
not exist here in this world overlooking the street and the area of where Sarah
and I were standing right outside of Robert McGuire’s
BOTBAR-BAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I did this just past midnight and then awoke
from this wild experience at exactly five in the morning. This sent me racing
down to 10-SC Avenue two hours later in my Saturn car with my mom in a futile
attempt to get to the bottom of my SARAH KRASSLE nightmare search!!!!!!!!
While watching the State of the Union speech the other night,
Tuesday night, I was knocked off and taken back to the ROKU-homepage TWICE.
Fortunately I was able to get back to the speech. Recently the ROKU is running slow and freezing again, and my letter to the FCC
will be shortly followed up with another complaint telephone call. I am a
paying consumer who HAS LEGAL FUCKING CUNT RIGHTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes world, Sir SWAP is
totally right and I fully realize that
now, Mizz Payne. Golly gash gee
wiligars great peeps, YO YO YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every time that one of my
blogs is deleted by MISOE’s newest follower OTAMMITE, notice that it has major
shit that exposes any possible benefit of the doubt to any deniers out there that
PINK-RODD-GODD in present incarnation
is actually the physical product of Patty HHH’s poor deviant behavior back on the 28th
afternoon in June, of 1969, underneath the great Schiff’s Central Pier of
Atlantic City, New Jersey-USAESMWG. Let us carefully peruse the
three blogs that were deleted and then placed back on again by BLOGGER-DOT-COM
after my MISOE-OTAMMIE-ENEMY struck me hard all 3
times!!!!!! We are speaking here of Alpha-Tweets-2022 “O”, “W”,
and then the BTAT-0015 chapters. A child
can see why these were attempted to have removed by concerned parties, so now I
ask my loyal following Blogaudians out here to please try and apply some great
logic here in my favor for just a moment. How can the rest of you out here even
start to legitimately doubt the sincerity of this information of the 17-year
BOM project for crying out louder than dog shit stinks???????? This is now the
tenth mother fucking DEATH ANGEL attack in the two hours so far that I’ve now
been here at this library today, kind folks.
Dream-worlds are real to
the characters there who then go onto perceive all of us here as part of their
relative dream-world. After my 1995 rip current ocean drowning in South Atlantic
City and immediate retrace on the photon wall by whomever has not permitted me
a physical death now for a very long time, the first major thing
that I found in my newly switched universe was my SATURN CAR, and how it was
now parked two or three spaces from where I absolutely know I had parked it
back in my previous universe where I had been drowned in and perished. There
were other things B4 that back at the beach as I know I was wearing ‘other
clothes’ than those I now had from this new retraced-universe, but the main
topic recently is the McFly Saturn circuit in my car. Remember how in 1980 from
a dream-world, I was at some university in Egg Harbor City where Merry was just
happening by while I was speaking to a professor pal of mine, and she said two
powerful sentences to me in response to my saying to the professor that she too
has transdimensional issues, saying this above the volume from what I had been
speaking until she came along, and also while pointing at her. In this wild
experience she was only ten and it was 1980 and I know that for sure, and so
she would be ten at that time, at least in most of localized hyperspace. As
things branch farther out into the 5th dimension, these things do in
fact begin to vary, but this was close-in enough to keep most things within
relatable logic. Extreme distant hyperspace are those realms where reality appears
2B totally breaking down. This is where one second we are talking to someone and
then POW-BAM, without any assist from Chef Emeril or his wonderful tasty foods,
suddenly the persons face becomes a large pizza pie. This is what the BOM
refers to as the Toby-Couch realm of very distant 5th dimensional
hyperspace. But back to the dream a few weeks back where it was summer time of
the year 1980 only instead of living at the Robin Hill Apartments, I was living
in Egg Harbor City, and was working at a food manufacturing plant, where here
in this waking world, is a potato chip factory. The college was off to the
north towards where here there is a large lake, only there it is a college. This
is all quite a ways to the north of the Julia Horse Pike, AKA the WHITE. The real psychic
JULIA is located in waking world reality here on the Julian horse Pike, of
course. A whittle wee bit of humor and HA-HA-HA,
for lovely Mizz HUUUUUGE-Tits Sheila Franklyn Hair!!!!!!!!! Now the
car in this powerful waking life experience after my drowning-retrace in August
of 1995 at South Atlantic City, had the great circuit in it and it was
definitely not the same car that I had B4 the drowning and re-trace on the
photon wall. But do these ROWES make these magical car circuits or do they
simply use the MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY magical covert paint that allows all
sorts of invisible control over anything that is painted with it? Forget about
Mister Mervin Griffin, or the great first gambling establishment of Atlantic
City that started this whole entire fucking miserable mess back in 1978, and is
called Resorts International Hotel Casino. Did the car now given to me after
the drowning and retrace have hyper-dimensional effects between dream-worlds?
Hey, anything is always a possibility, and we all know that this is true unless
we’ve been hiding deep within some cave for the past three plus decades now. Did
this new SATURN car somehow begin to affect my character in a parallel twin
reality of cosmos? This is where he or I really, lived at Highview back in the
60’s rather than at 125-A Haddon Hills apartments, and not only that but he/I
not only attended the great ‘HTHS’ (Haddon Township High School), but graduated,
or at least was there and driving a car which in this waking world, I never
drove a car while in high school. I was living in this alternate persona at Highview
while back at the high school in 1968, and was someone who was in his late
teens, so most likely was in the 12th grade, a senior. Here of
course I only attended the illustrious HTHS for the 7th and the 8th
grade, and then I was tutored for a few months, and ended up shortly thereafter
at the one and only COOLEY HALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But in this persona where
Nick Cannon and his pals managed to steal away from me this LAPTOP or TABLET or
shoebox as I used to call it for years and years; and I was driving down the
JULIAN HORSE PIKE (BLACK), and drove from home to school. By the way I did not
live in Blackwood, NJUSAESMWG on Cressmont Avenue, ‘so sahwee’. I lived at 220
Hillcrest Avenue. I remember this as Frank Wonder from my Mars Graphics printing
job mailed me a check for a few bucks from money that he owed me on a loan that
I had made to him, and he was crazy enough since he was pissed off at having to
pay it back, and
he wrote on the envelope “Hellchrist” rather than Hillcrest. My old pal Sir Bill Griggs was on Cressmont Avenue a few
blocks away from my home in these same Cherrywood Estates. This amends
my begat-btat address list from a prior recent blog, I think it was Chapter
0020. Also Doris Plum’s apartment building was 7 East Main Street, and I now
have forgotten my apartment number, but it was at the very rear of the place
facing west; and of course she applied
Hebrew-Landlord-Lightning as some still say if not worried about being PC, to
burn the place down a long time ago at the start of 1980. Thank the
gods that my mom and I had moved away from that nut case by then and into the
Mantua, NJUSAESMWG home that we purchased at 112 East 5th Avenue. Back now to the
SATURN CAR and the time trip with Mister NC. This was not one of
the I-Ching deals, I merely went off to sleep one night, but that circuit in
the McFly car had a lot to do with it. I know it for so many reasons, the least
of which was the dealership who insisted on my trading the car in for their
Plymouth Breeze car early in 1997 was not only about this item but the major
attempt to fix me up with a Spanish goddess who looked precisely like a character
in my dream-world!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But when I had this Egg Harbor 1980 dream with
my daughter at age ten a few weeks ago now, she said that incredible thing to
me about “We have your shoebox now McFly” and that made a really gigantic impression on me.
It most definitely effected my waking life from the second that I woke up out
of it too as you all know only too well. One thing I know and that is I refuse
to keep putting up with this new blog intimidation from some total scumbag.
Look for me soon on WIX website and possibly a new blogger site as well, as I have
been researching the material and there are a couple of places out there far
less strict about what seemingly is thought of as “sensitive material”, and I
still do not even know what that TRULY MEANS. Well, the SAFET may have just
spoken for itself, right all fans of my daughter????????????????? Hey, I am
only able to go by what SWAP is telling me and now some real powerful common
sense to boot, YO-YO-YAH, ME’ BRAHHHHH!!!!
Yes, I’ve been dealing
with McFly time travel circuits as well as magical MISOE-circuits in many of me’
fucking ass automobiles now for three plus decades now. As I stated B4, most of
the time, they don’t have the fucking balls to screw with new vehicles, but the
SATURN already was screwed with after the drowning-retrace incident as they
already had given me this vehicle via dream-exchange or what I call being
retraced & switched, Professor Kaku, which can be done due to just falling
asleep or completely dying. Either way, normal human realm consciousness is
lost, and then a switch can be and often is MADE!!!!!!!!!!!!! So without worrying
right now about subatomic paint chemistry and other stealthful and covert
shadow-ops in the global control over all of us; we will only
open up stuff for now that I can get much more into proper elucidations later
on when home-blogging, hopefully by next week if nothing else goes mother
fucking too damn ass wrong in me’ pitiful poor non-R life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Sir Chester-Frank. I
could type for a thousand damn ass years and not ever get into all of the
possibilities involved in my nineteen-nineties days of utter monstrous fucking
hellishness, YO YO YO YO ME’ BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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The main deal is that ROWES are of course T-2-E’s and as a result of
being that, they know the hellishness of endlessly, Mister
Sebastian Pip Cabot. The simply reality here great folks out here other
than whoever is trying to wipe out THE BOM; is that there is only one way to
attempt to compensate for endlessness when we cannot resided in the great
capitol city of the Astral plane (Sahasra Dal
Kanwal). GAMES, challenges, struggling
competitive games. This is where the
Olympians all come about in our myths on this Earth-Planet. It is where our love and desire for GAMES to this very moment
all stems from. I’ve told and imparted this ultra-power-house secret
ever since these blogs all began back 17 years ago now. I’ve never made one
small attempt to hide this incredible information from a single goddamn soul,
YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is only known for sure by the very few who have real
true honest memories of their Purgatorial existence of whom I am one of this
grouping, or
said Astrally, “one of this groupation”. The ROWES know it only too
well, and they never tell the guys and gals in the offices (secret agencies who
believe wholeheartedly that they are the ones in control and naught the
operatives). My simple point that if the masses of the world came to see and
believe this 100% today would end life as we know it folks, is that indeed, the
only thing truly behind all of our religion, all of our goals, all of our need
and desire to remain sane and survive, all the reasons why we feel competitive
against each other, and anything else you could ever even think of if you
racked your brains until fucking ass doomsday, is the need to block out from
our knowing the truth of endlessness. Animals do not need the great
KRASSLE-CHAIN or 2B residing in SDK. They have an insufficient total amount of
astral energy, about one-one-thousandths of a human. Without our degree of this
energy, one cannot even recognize anything beyond in-the-moment existence, and with
no clue ever about tomorrow. When peeps say an animal has “no soul”, they
mistakenly are wording it that way, and in truth they simply are saying and
meaning, that they have an insufficient amount of Astral-Energy to be cognizant
to matters of that type. There are a total of nine levels of energetic entities
on the Astral-Plane or the timeless-Purgatory. Some mistakenly believe that
SDK-city dwellers are, as the animals, literally lessened in their energy. But
the great SSJKK told me that this is not the case. Most entities of Purgatory
or most Purgatites have way more energy than we do, all the way up to the coins
and the coils, and many psychic and mystics who have attempted to explore
Purgatory and come back here with memory and awareness, fall under a false
belief and misperception that there are 9 levels of the purgatory (after-life)
and that is total bull shit. Just as on Earth, the insects have nothing to do
with the animals and the animals do not live on our level buying cars and homes
and boats and stocks and bonds and soon. In the timeless purgatory, there are 9
levels of entities and for the very most part, they simply rarely have much to
do with each other, but there is one purgatory, not nine of them. It is like the other
great misperception about the astral realm having unpleasant odors. If you are
recalling a stench, then you are way too close to DOGTOWN. That does
stink to high shit and back, but the rest of Purgatory has the same normal
aromas that we are used to right here.
All the things that I
typed in here today are openers only and will be expanded on, IPYT people. I wish to close out
with a small bit about the Landlord named Sir Mike Gutherman, and the story that
I have told 2U all recently as well as on several of my blogs throughout the
17+ year BOM-project. Why was it okay for mister MG to come to me
months later out of the blue, and ask me wild stuff about his personal woe-whiz-me’s,
yet when I have tried to contact peeps upon several occasions to do similar
things, and request just a wee bit of decent human interaction; I get treated
like pure unadulterated mother fucking pig shit at light speed squared?
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??????? Just why is that fair,
world????????????? I cannot help but to come to the conclusion that it is just
like my mom’s Hollister-Buttons that I used to push so often back at 1802 Robin
Hill apartments in Voorhees, Township in the beginning two years or so of the
great 80’s decade. When peeps want shit 2B endlessly covered up and suppressed,
they will go to virtually any means to successfully accomplish that goal, will
they naught lovely Mizz AT&T Blake, mahm? Games are behind everything and the
desire to cover up the nightmare of endlessness. I am the only one who knows
tis and others who read this insist it is somewhere between nonsensical total gibberish
and complete fucking ass insanity. I of course totally know better. I can type
on forever but would rather quit while I ma seemingly a wee bit ahead, and just
come back and begin this really powerful shit of connecting a zillion dots from
home beginning next week, an dyes, eventually move onto to bigger horizons and
leave blogger dot com behind in the dust. If peeps do not want me around then I
will leave and not darken their doorsteps again, as we Huntington’s tend to
tell people. When Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote the book, Uncle Tom’s Cabin” a
long time ago, she did it from a home owned by Sir Herbert Huntington, father
of the dude who married Mizz Chicago native Alice Gallagher, Sir Arthur
Huntington, my mom’s cousin and brother of old Hollywood screen-play reader
Mizz Maud Huntington Benjamin. One day when the prodigal son came home, just as
in the Bible only with totally different end results, his dad told him to do a Michael
Jackson and beat it, so he said right back to him, oh lovely Mizz Hillary Duff Lizzy McGuire; “I’ll never darken
your doorstep again”. My mom was a little girl when this happened
just under 100 years ago. This house where this all went down mister 1980 Joe
RPL Sivo, was where Mizz HBS was visiting and writing that great world famous
book, UTC. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
THE DEATH ANGEL IS
MAKING ME BEYOND CRAZY!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION FWOLKS, WHAAAAA-BIT!!!!!!!!!!
BLOG END TIME IS 3:26 POSTMERIDIAN.
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