SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0657

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCLVII

11:16 PM TUESDAY NIGHT

DECEMBER 4, 2012

MAY GOD BURN IN HELL

STARTING BLOG:

Thank you for doing your sworn duty, Shf. Monks. What a joke this world is. When you have power, you have value in this world. When you don't, they will let you rot out in the summer sun until you look like a bruised peach.

This was the worst birthday ever, and I am 58 years old today. How any of you can look at yourselves in the mirror, is a way way way bigger equation to me, than anything that Einstein or Archimedes could ever have dreamed of. If I were any of you, I would take my life in a New York heartbeat. You see, I am a person, and I have a conscience, praise hell. No matter what else is involved or how far it all goes, I am glad that you are all you, and I am me, because I would not trade places with soulless heartless crumbs like you for a million worlds and ruler-ship over all of them, so take that little message to your leader, “WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE”.

It is so amazing that I am the only person alive who knows what is real, and how powerful this all is. I can hear the thoughts inside of all of you, I have transcended far beyond what I was a few days ago. I only thought I knew most everything until she showed me the songs we'd sing, but in any event, only half of the secret codes will show up in this chapter, am I right, my lovely strobe-light?

Gawky Gaukauk told me that the reason that this day was made so incredibly horrible for me, literally the worst day I ever had in the 21^st century, is PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER-633. Here are the more powerful and striking items that are in my matchbook that represent the PCN-633.

WRITER----DOCTOR----COPYRIGHT OFFICE----TENNESSEE AVENUE----FAMILY----UNOCAL----SATURN----DELMO CIFALOGLIO----

IF I HAVE TO SAY IT MYSELF, WITH OR WITHOUT MY FAVORITE TD BANK TRUCKS AROUND, AND BOY DO I MISS THEM THESE DAYS OVER ON ROUTE ONE, *****W-O-W*****!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, my electronic mail was hacked yesterday, and my Resident Manager, Mizz Marotto, never got my message. I sent her another one this afternoon. Also, I played my MORIANITY TAPES through the PEDERSEN ROACHPHONE SYSTEM all day, just recently deactivating it. I use an old spare pair of headphones, no one here is bothered by my screaming and shouting that way, you see, I try to be considerate of other people, and my neighbors, and I had a decently mother who raised me like a gentleman, praise hell fire and damnation.

I told earlier, how my horrible life got real bad in two stages, and both having to do with my FATHER, just as James T. Burr from Gloucester-Sharks suspected all along as far back as the year 1974 when my father came back after being away diving for nearly a solid decade of time, with no contact whatsoever. The second knock down was after my father, 'CROSSED OVER' or died as most would say, huh lovely Jenny Hewitt? I did not know it for a while, as again, contact was lost, oh those generations, Captains!!!!! Aniwho folks, don't any of you find it even remotely odd or strange that I never get one single hit on my Youtube postings, as they are all just my own count from pasting them to these blogs, except maybe for three or four tops. Who do you know, would get zero hits, no matter what they were to post? Do you also find it just a little odd and bizarre that it is fully all right to trample on my First Amendment rights to protected free speech, and that the powers to be can hack this computer and make it virtually unusable, and no attorney or anyone else for that matter will ever assist me or get involved at all? If you don't think these two things are weirder than anything on rod Serling's Twilight Zone, tell me why you disagree wit me, I am here, my number is 772-489-8625, I have nothing to hide, my life is an open book. I even told my wonderful LIGHTNING or 'strobe-light' as I was to find out in the future, back in 1983, and I will quote, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”. I am not in here hiding people, I have been up front and out in the open from the very start of these seven years of my MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS, and you all know it well. Calling me a liar on that would only make you the quintessential fool.

I played my non quantum roulette system and had to play three games, my scores were -5, -2, and +9. This was on the worst day in years and years and years and years and years, and laugh at me all you want to Sarah Krassle, you know that I am not the bad person here. Frankly I hope that I have somehow miscalculated all of this and on the outside chance, an error has been made, because I am ashamed of you right now. That being said, we will move onto the final part of this semi-tweet blog, at least for my word average. A few of you may know or remember what I told about in Mrs. Meeker's home in 1993. I had an entire environment in my basement, a huge aquarium and terrarium and sky from basement floor to the ceiling, with a timer controlling a bright group of floodlight suns, and even a phosphorescent glowing moon after the suns all went off each night. A day was one hour long, and I had an abundant amount of fish as well as insects and flies and all over this huge sealed area. The oceans moved with air tubing systems, the continents had rocks and Earth and grasses and plants, and were all teaming with life. One day I nuked the entire world. When I went to bed, I was contacted by the inhabitants of the world that I destroyed, and they begged me not to wipe them out, but as the great Krassle would say with her very famous lines, it was “too late”. Recently I began to understand that I could hear everyone, and that I had been shutting it all out since the days of merry go rounds and strange little ghost children from heaven at various parks, all told about and blogged from years past. If anyone out here, anyone, I don't care if you are Pope B-16, doubts that I can hear you, and KNOW, well, you just go on doubting all you want, just as Charles Delaware Tate can just go on hating Count Petofi all he wants, even with his blessing, as all real fans of the television show, may still remember and know. Study everything on this current blog from about the end of May or the time that the disco queen, Donna Summer, crossed over. If you cannot see what has been going on, then you may never be enlightened enough to get anything at all out of the story of MORIANITY. Still, I wish all of you well, even those who hate my guts. That hate is on you, and you own it. It is like a cancer eating you up inside, and I refuse to be infected with your rotten stenchy disease. So I release you all with a full heart, and even wish you a Hollister Christmas and a slappy McLaughlin-Lennon New Year. I will be here in this life endlessly. You will never even know anything other than the very surface of this pond. Your reality stops at about an inch underneath the ice. Mine goes down into forever. Give me all the interactions you want to Sarah Krassle, you impress me like reality, GET IT? You are the only one that should get it, but folks, I am going to sign out of this abnd go to sleep soon. I need to terminate the worst day of my entire life or just about, as who can keep score of such things with 100% accuracy?

Nighty-night, and BYE-BYE, firm or flabby arms, notwithstanding. I am going to END THE BLOG:

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