SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0329

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0329

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

MAJOR FUCKING HELL, AND

ENDLESS STRING OF FUCKING BOTBAR DAYS

START:

Well people, first off, I am in a hologram that I've not seen since back in fucking jersey or at least my trip from there, down here to fucking sunny and scummy Florida.

First, is a dense thick hologram, and loaded with giant pussies all over, and not kitty cats such as Gawky fucking Gaukauk, YO!

Then more chemtrail siege hit me at my work site starting just at or after two of the clock in the fucking Post Meridian. But the day began as it left off, before this shit even had a chance to cunt lapping launch, back around ten this morning there around. Twice I am in the bath tub trying to relax in a nice icy cold fucking shower, and the maintenance man is back inside my apartment yelling for me to shut down everything. They finally have it all worked out, but the entire day was total fucking hell before I got anywhere near my mother fucking job site and only took tons and loads of additional mother fucking dog shit at the Constant-Squared, great Cuzz Sarah Callio, always with the never ending symbolism of the CS initials, and so many others, folks, Sheeees 4 crissake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fucking cunt gods peeps, WHEN WILL THIS NIGTHTMARE HELL AROUNBD ME END OR JUST BACK THE FUCKING SHIT OFF A LITTLE BIT, JESUS FUCKING GOD ALL FUCKING MIGHTY, YO???????????????????????????????Yeah git bag on the Atlantic City boardwalk that day with Jerry Heitzmann, I'm fucking bad ass too, mother fucker, so come play the fuck with me, ya' fucking jerk off, and watch yourself bleed out, pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As usual, I turned on my computer and began blogging, and jerk off numb nuts next door started with his fucked up music. But talk about this building, I have got to get the fucking hell shit Christ out of here and fast, or they will drive me out of my cunt eating mind, YO. After all the shit with the shower first, I left the apartment, and again, who was waiting for me and sneaking around to make sure that indeed we would all run into each other, but that new mysterious young dick head couple with the baby? Who was with them, MIZZ Daughter Cellphone Ringtone? The only thing missing today, and I am dead fucking serious, would be the landing of a flying fucking saucer, and a bunch of weird looking little fucking space ass aliens. This is why I do not believe in them or that shit about life as we could possibly know and or relate to it as life, anywhere else in this entire fucking cosmos. If they do not come on days like this, for me; believe me mother fuckers; they are totally not coming, and for the good reason that they are not real/e, like you Tommy boy. Now please peeps, do not confuse this talk with my doubting what has been in fact seen, witnessed, documented, and discussed by the great mighty Falcon/Condor Ufology Club, etcetera, and etcetera, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me explain just a tad here, Martino Allmykids, gulp, gulp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I do, I want to amend some shit from near previously written blogging texts. First, I said 19 years, and the key number one and key number two as you all know, are right together, I meant it to read 29 years, so go back and shit makes more sense when we add 29 and 1967, to equal Cousin Sandy's stay at the Trinidad Hotel until my song called SARAH was written. We are all human, ask either Bruce, or my daughter. Nobody is mother fucking perfect around here, so sorry Ambassador Slantyeye. I also want to add this whittle insertion here, Mister Elmer Fwudd and the Warner Wabbit fwolks; WHAAAAAAAAAAA; and that is this, DUH, at any impressed colors of Ann King and Lenny Briscoe.

My daughters' more close in 'relative' stopped into the Harvest today and actually walked into the rear area where ass with most grocery stores and really any stores, this is for employees only, remember as children how we would be shopping with our parents, and see that famous sign on store doors all the time, “Employees Only”. I will give no details, I cannot, merely that yes, of course your mood swings are part of your wild and fantastic personality. I wonder if that flip side cassette, has any of my pre-Woodlyn, NJ, 1700 Woodlyn Avenue, Jekyll and Hyde recordings, HA-HA-HA, NEW SHOES, and MASONS, you had this all worked out from thousands of years ago, I knew that and did not need to hear it today from certain 'folks'. I was told that I needed to remember what happened right before the first knock came on my door this very morning at 601 Lenny McKinnon and Avenues “B”, when I was told to take my bath, as this story has not started to be told yet, get a cup of Joe in your hand or whatever, and get into a nice mother fucking easy or comfy chair, I think this poor 'crazy' invented these two terms, but will never be able to freaking MOVCOM prove it of course, so turn down that phone heater, as I may end up living in that Boston fucking Hotel someday, BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Sure as shit all mighty, instantly, I remembered that I was in a strange unknown house, in a parallel universe naturally; and was being accused of causing a gigantic infestation of some very strange and unknown insects. For those who are far behind and slow to warm up, Oprah, crissake, I thought I'd fucking pass out right there in the fucking ass warehouse at that point, and actually took hold of a stack of piled up boxes to brace my lightheaded poor pathetic little self. Many peeps relate to how “DREAMS” tend to do this with them as well, you know, fool with words, like DUH. Let me go back now to Pearl Harbor Day of the year 1996, and play a really cool game with an extremely delicious ravishing young teenager named Sarah Krassle, called, “GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”. 'GUESS', and 'GUEST', yeah right, MI GREAT ALL MIGHTY EMPIRE RULING GAME PLAYER. This fucking shit is told repeatedly and in vivid detail on many many many of my fucking blogs from 2006, 2007, and even into the beginning of all of what this was supposed to lead into, Sabrina Collins, 2008. Oh you lovely long curly haired special teen you; don't ever think I'll forget that pipe you ran across, or that wonderful message that you left for me. How I agonize over taking the shit all down off of the You tube when I realized that my ignorance about working computers and internet, was causing me to pile up many fake views on the songs, so I tried re-posting it up to clear the count back to zero, thinking that I would never lose your lovely words. Oh how stupid can they make us shoelace problem genius math children? That story about the shoelaces folks is total bullshit, but yes, peeps like Al and me do in fact have trouble remembering how to do certain tasks that a child thinks nothing of such as working the e-mail on a computer. It must be the way our fucked up crazy brains our wired, and Jesus man, we should be better understood, not treated like fucking pig shit by folks all our dam ass lives, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to the fucking insect dream, or should I say my major nightmare in mother fucking ass hyperspace, YO. My own mother called me a liar and would not believe that I had done nothing wrong. She said to me that I need to make restitution and pay for the damage caused to the home owner, and when I got on my knees and swore before her god that I did nothing wrong, she grabbed a hose that seemed to be on the wall, and squished the silver clip part that makes water shoot out really thin and hard, and she fucking blasted my ass with a shower that I won't soon cock sucking forget, it was the most horrible experience I ever had, and was painful as well. The water seemed to be boiling hot. Now, this person who appeared at my job, and in an area off bounds without being an employee; made me remember an entire experience that my conscious mind had put out of itself totally and fucking completely, from the second I woke up to a banging knock on my door. This knock was the maintenance man telling me to run my bath water, and I asked him will I be OK to do this now, and he said to me, absolutely, only when I did, as I stated earlier on this blog, the next thing that I fucking knew five minutes or so later, while again, I lay naked and exposed in my bath tub, was this idiot maintenance man inside my apartment, AGAIN, screaming for me to shut the dam water off, and it wasn't even running, anymore than it was yesterday, both times, the tub was totally filled all ready,m and then BOOM,all of fucking ass hell breaks mother fucking ass loose, YO. Let me ask this world something, I mean in all fucking ass honesty? Could your great hero James Patterson even start to make up so much endless fucking shit, this fucking good. By calling me a story writer or a deluded whack job, you are all clueless how it pays me the ultimate fucking literary compliment, because you are telling me that I am better than the mighty KALI DREAM-WORKS or Patterson, or any of these peeps. As much as I hate being disbelieved mother fuckers, I still must dearly THANK YOU ALL, for this great pat on my back, still, no hickeys please. This entire thing no matter how we slice it up and tote it around, comes back as one totally over the radar PAIN IN MY ROYAL FUYCKING ASS, MI FRIENDS AND FIENDS OUT HERE, it is getting stale, old, and quite fucking annoying and boring, Frank Callio and Robert McGuire, and let us never forget the dude who was too scared to land his own chopper onto his own fucking rooftop, with or without a lot of mean ass barking Jess-Dogs on NNNNNorth CCCCCarolina Avenue in Atlantic Shitty City, New Jitty, Jersey, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give this a rest, you dam time traveler ding-head, will-ya????????????????? You seemed to know me years and years before I even knew squat about this shit, back at the time I was at Haddonwood Swim and Health Club with Tony Antimatter. So is this mother fucker some wild exploratron who is so powerful, he taught his dam wife how to do shit, and then she comes and joins the Callio Gang in 1967, all ready knowing that the fucking ass Shaw of Iran had it all previously mapped and planned out with his very good abnd dear friend, my aunt Geraldine snow Mason? You know, my “Uncle” Heinz Gottwald had respect for only one person in my fucked up God Dam It Bruce HUNTINGTON non-synthesized shit eating family, and that was you, AUNTIE, anti, hell even spell checker is ahead of things, as when I typed this group of words, if Ida hit the ENTER button, watch, let me show you by doing it now, antimatter, like fucking cunt DERRRRRRRR, like DUHHHHH!!

My dream-life, to use your forward-mortal language words folks, recently; is really growing in major ass leaps and bounds. Still, one minute my mom is hosing me to death and telling me I'm responsible for shit that pertains to property damage that I do not own, and the next minute, a knock on the door in this parallel universe comes, and it is all about water and damage, and the way I got treated, it was like it was all my fucking ass fault. Hells bells mother fuckers, all I did was come home hot and tired from a hard days' work yesterday to take a cold bath as I normally do, and the entire fucking universe spun around and kicked me right smack ass dab in the thrill rocks. Jesus fucking Christ have cunt lapping mercy on me, YO!

Yes peeps, hoards of giant slutty girls are everywhere, huge crowds are all over the place and in stores I needed to go to buy a few needed items, it is as if this entire world has fucking turned upside down, inside out, and 657-123, and I know it was you who called, so tell Lenny K, the Philadelphia code was well received, and I need to talk to him, please MI,m please tell him this, he warned me not to get hypnotized in the Haddonwood closing down days back at Saint Barnabas? What made you go from a counselor to a rapper, YO? You need to hear Darius Evans dude, he is too much, and I hate rap music, so if I say something about it, you know you godda' wonder. Also, I was not shocked by other negative events of the day, and was told it would happen, and not to act shocked when it does, but just to try and sit there wearing a good poker face, oh well, I wonder just which one? Should I wear the poker face with the five of hearts and the four aces, or the Mickey-Dee one, with the six of hearts and four queens; shit; does the six represent how 4 queens magically do a Harry Potter, and turn into the great Astral Plane counterpart of the Callio Girl Gang of the nineteen-sixties called the Quoddy-Mockers, only known in the Capitol Province Olympia, as the 'VIQUEENS'?

Long Story Short (LSS) folks, this visitation from %@#*^%*(%@ lasted all but five minutes or so, but a lot of information was told to me, right down to just exactly what the 'Earl Lee' 2009 Hammonton, New Jersey mail-count was all about. Yes some television commercials are funny and even great, while good old dirt hole slime scum Geico Insurance, makes one stupid fucking dorky butt wipe add after another, each one being worse and stupider than the last. You mother fuckers can all suck my fucking fat throbbing prick, YOU SUCK DUDES, AND YOUR INSURANCE SUCKS 2. Even Spell-Checker does not want to recognize you and your stupid ass ads, referring me to that ugly fucking lizard that I love to squish into shit when one gets into my living space. If you don't help pay the rent, you can leave, via the ASTRAL PLANE, mother fuckers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2012 HAS BEEN THE MOST HORRIBLE MOTHER FUCKING YEAR OF MY ENTIRE MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING JERKED OFF LIFE, FOLKS. I kid you not ladies and gentleman, I would have no Earthly fucking reason to lie about this or kid any of you, YO. Any mother fucking day now, I'll be pract5ically fucking GANG-RAPED by gorgeous young giant fucking pussies, and one of them will have the choice of marrying me or spending a lot of years in jail. No more Roseann Delaney shit for me, you bite, I don't lose a daughter out of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I knew if I fucking posted my 3/4 Roulette crap, I'd get heavily messed with and totally fucked to death, and sure enough peeps, I FREAKING ASS DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is power to this system, and I urge hackers who have the brains to use it, to wipe out the entire game, just do something to make a mark on this planet of SATAN, ruled by SATAN, owned by SATAN. I won't venture to guess what new deal has been made 2000 years after the fact, but when it comes to EXPLORATRONS running around with personal agendas, now we get cover-ups, unexplained UFO events, and all the other mess we're all in now, Stan.

Yes, Titan bosses with ugly cars and choppers, we know this ENDS HERE!!!!!