COMPILATION
BLOGGING PROJECT, SINCE I WENT OFFLINE:
This
will work you backwards from right now on a middle Wednesday
afternoon, here on January the devil number (23) day, in
twenty-twelve, two thousand twelve, 2K12, or OH-MAROLA-12, say it any
way you wish and hand me a nice fresh rose as well, calling it by any
name you may so choose to do, Billy Shakespeare; and I'll still be
left holding onto a ROSE, on the date of Wednesday, 01-23-2012. So
indeed, what is really in a name? Well, a more important question
will now be posed here on this blog of the great and only,
MORIANITY-2-OF JEWELLY WHITE'S SECOND CALENDAR, that all began with
or without Sabrina Collins, on the twenty-second day of last
December, back in twenty-eleven. OH MISSES MAROLA, where are you when
I could just use hearing you say, ''Hello Mark'', and I promise that
I won't make a brand new song out that, you have my word of honor,
and please don't say, my word of what, as Jim burr did not trust me,
and it was Jim burr who wanted that secret meeting with my mom and
Elsie and him, that day in the summer of 1989, up at that White Horse
Pike Diner, in Voorhees, New Jersey, and excluded me from their
little secret meeting club, as though they were trying to emulate the
mighty Bohemians. Also, good folks, I want to give you that rare
opportunity of starting with the day that I have returned back ONLINE
with you all, and be able to work your way backward through time
until I was planning to exit the internet to save money. You are
about to get the mind blowing freaking experience of your entire
life, and I would so heavily suggest, that bring a friend or two
along with you, for this little reading ride, and put down James
Patterson for a day, and really hear what powerful true tales can do
to the soul of the readers. Not to knock my favorite fiction author,
but give me one day of your dam time peeps, and you won't regret it,
but then, you'll see. Begin now, trekking backward through time, from
today, back to the first few days of this year, reading my nightmare
world and life in reverse, and see the awesome true power of how I
indeed am dealing with entities who as scriptures teach, do know the
end from the beginning, and they should; as they created the end, at
the beginning.
MORINAITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00033, BLOG-A
January
23, 2013, 12:16 PM-EST at Fort Pierce, Florida
Well,
at this time, according to the news, the Dow Jones Stock Market is up
about 80 points, and nearly at the 13, 800 level, just about to cross
the ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, meaning that the evil rich people have
never ever had things so good or their way in everything so much. Did
I not TELL YOU ALL FOLKS, THAT THIS WOULD ALL GO DOWN THIS WAY, AND
DID I NOT TELL YOU ALSO, LOVELY GIANT GINA?
It
is now an early mother fucking Wednesday afternoon. My entire life is
over. Everything that I ever tried to do has been completely ruined
and wrecked. I live around people who sit around every second, with
nothing else to do but to figure out ways to persecute me and make me
totally mother fucking miserable, 24-7-365.2422. On top of all of
that, my life and its general magnetic condition or agreement with
cosmos in all general things (LUCK) is about as down and low as ''Ice
Tea's'' Fun Group for fagots.
Let
me stop this blog for now and get dressed. My AT&T installer is
here, to bring my internet back to me. I knew I could not exist
without it, and am only left to seriously ponder on what this culture
will de, somewhere between the next 30-50 years, when all of the
world's oil reserves run out. We will not return to the life of the
16 hundreds by the way, because in those times, people never knew
technology. They knew how to live off of the land, just like you me
and a dog named Flee if you want to rhyme this old sixties tune. This
entire new age world of folks will not just be plunged into outer
darkness, but it really will feel like the ninth circle of fucking
hell when it happens, because the masses will not know how to
function with no power grids, hence no electricity, and no gadgets
run off of this great item working for them any longer, and even more
horrible, most products made today could not be made with no oil
coming our way, as they are nearly all what you might think of as
partly if not totally, oil-byproducts. So laugh now, you wealthy
WORLD OWNERS, and your silver spoon up your ass offspring, from the
Kardashian scum bags all the way to any celebrity or wealthy person
whose name you may have ever heard. Their time in the sunshine, is
all waning down, like a disappearing moon, night after night, and
then it is all gone. For what has been done to me all of my fucking
life, you all will pay a very steep and hefty price, so be warned and
be careful, and yes old friend Regis, tell Paula to watch her rotten
back too, and that I am not one bit scared of her and her friends. I
may be no perfect little choir boy, but I never went around
destroying the lives of innocent peeps, as did Callio and McGuire,
and the list could just keep right on going like that anti-gift that
keeps on taking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am now hooked back up to the internet, and the installer has left. It
is ten minutes before two this afternoon. The Dow Jones is up nearly
a hundred points, as it is just about every single day this year in
2013, and my entire year as a result, along with the garbage Philly
Flyers Hickey/Hockey team back again playing and kicking ass, just as
I said would all go down folks, has left my life in ruins and
shambles, at the speed of mother fucking light squared.
So
let me end this blog and try shooting up the entire blog, which may
be too large, and if so, then it will be done piecemeal, as maybe
that is best anyway, and even if I can get the entire blog up in one
fell swoop, I will still be making individual re-posts of much of
this major fucking material, as my entire life has been totally
destroyed by the ''IF'', and this evil has been able to accomplish
this, and get totally mother fucking scott free away with their
dastardly deeds!!!
Anyone
who can believe in a loving father god of the bible, is the biggest
dam fool in the galaxy and beyond, OR, they just never have bothered
to read MORIANITY 1 and MORIANITY 2 from cover to cover. Now that
would be some reading, even for Patterson and
Tolstoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION:
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00032, BLOG-B
It
is only minutes after I ended the other blog. It also is mother
fucking eleven-eleven, in the mother fucking morning, and this is not
going to be a good cunt eating day, after a major clock attack from
Jane Shit Head Bitch Weeds Fonda; along with the nabes, and noise,
even though it is not real loud, and also; along with a major fucking
cock sucking sky attack, and especially a fucking ass slew of nasty
ass
CHEMTRAILS.
You
can add to this list, the computer, even totally off line, is playing
games with me, and hacking me. It is not internet, or the machine
itself; nor is it any person or group. It is the power
of a teasing energetic entity and its surrounding
controlled reality, to contact and then go onto take control over
some (REALITY-CHUNK), as was all fully explained on enough previously
blogged texts, so as to make sense enough to readers, to at least,
agreeing or not with me on the issue of its reality; follow along,
and not be in the dark about what my words are discussing,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I left the Avalon Recording Studio yesterday, around the middle
afternoon somewhere; I stopped at two stores near my residence, on
the drive back home. I bought a few sixty cent VHS movies at
Good-Will, and a three dollar pack of chocolate mini-cupcakes with
colored dots on the frosted icing, and some liverwurst. As soon as I
left the grocery store, to go to the Good Will, just down the way, in
the same shopping mini-mall, at Virginia Avenue, and Route 1; a loud
and low private Cessna
type aircraft, flew right directly over me; and instantly, I
began to get shit cramps; and when I got home, I needed to take a
nasty shit, all though I had all ready done so, before leaving in the
late morning. So I have been under some nasty siege now starting
around the era of just past three yesterday afternoon, and it is
still nasty and fucking ongoing, and I cannot fucking wait to post
all of this shit up onto the internet, and get some real heavy and
major fucking ass revenge. As you know, they got their dirt bag way,
and the evil Hockey Season is back once
again, just as what happened in 1995, that totally led me
into complete fucking cunt devastation, and obliteration; as a
paralleling ass result, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, I am
hearing that musical modulation, that
hockey fans know so well; only I am hearing, not GoogleX4, followed
by 'G' is the antichrist, but instead; “FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK,
FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, FLYERS
SUCK, FLYERS SUCK, AND SO FORTH. I have always sung that along
with the organ, ever since the late fucking cunt lapping nineteen
eighties, when this twisted disease all got started, between this
hickey team and myself, huh STM © Office?????????????????????? OUCH,
take it easy with me, Mizz lovely Delaney,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe for you,
it's endless 1969. Time moved on for the rest of us, there, sweetie
pie. Well read on folks, and see how this machine is electronically,
in direct contact with my MIND; to make me hellishly fucking
miserable, and totally BOTBAR!
I
WILL BE TALKING TO DEBBIE IN A FEW MINUTES, AS SHE SHOULD BE HERE ON
MONDAYS. THE SUBWOOFER
ATTACK IS HORRIBLE AT 11:44 AM.
No
sooner did I hook up my roachphone
system, which is headphones-directly-attached to a phone
receiver, this began; and there is no way
that ''THEY'' can hear any of this. Wish me luck, as I am throwing on
a pair of pants now, and complaining. This has been bad all morning,
and now they are cranking it way up after being told that they must
remove this box. This never misses one fucking cunt lapping single
beat, ladies and gentlemen. MILK strikes me
every single cunt lapping year. I like the dude, and he was
great; but something about him with me, is just like, Christmas,
my own fucking birthday,
and music, and
so many constantly never ending other items; that just serve to
crucify me, on a regular fucking ass annual
basis, year after year after, and decade after decade; and
with the 'KING SHIT', ever since my long walk, in Blackwood, New
Jersey, in the deep snow; back in 1978, over to a closed bank, on
Doctor Martin Luther King Day, when out of nowhere, and with no
proper informing of the public; it just began; as I was not
the only one waiting out in the cold, and the deep snow,
over on the fucking Black Horse Pike, in Blackwood, New Jersey; for
the Bank of New Jersey, to open; and of course, it never fucking cock
sucking did on that day. Well the same thing just happened. I went
down to try and see Debbie, and she is here on Mondays and Fridays
with regularity, and of course, dumb retard me, is thinking this
is MONDAY, forgetting all about the three day King
Holiday, that just past. All I knew, was this was the start of the
work week, so it must be Monday; and Debbie Morotto is here in her
office on Monday; and when the guard lady at the desk smirked and
said to me that she is here on Monday, I finally caught on, after
looking like a total mother fucking retarded cunt ass lapping rotten
stupid shit swallowing fool. I obviously do not need to tell you that
this mother fucking day is now BEYOND SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR, and that
both the month and the year 'MPB', is now at six for twenty-two
(6:22), or 6 times 100, divided by the days in January as well as the
days of 2013 so far, 31, same thing exists on the first of all the
twelve months each year quite naturally folks; so this is now where I
fucking cunt stand peeps, YO, at 27% Magnetic Percentage for Botbar
or (MPB-27%) for short, BRAHHH!!!!!!! Yes folks, there's no need to
wish me any luck. However, I will e-mail Debbie that the box is back,
when my AT&T service arrives tomorrow afternoon. I have no
intention of waiting for fucking cunt lapping FRIDAY TO ROLL THE SHIT
AROUND! She'll have the e-mail by end of tomorrow's fucking business,
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! OK, with nine days left in this 2013's
first month of JANUARY, I am holding at MPB-27%. Every one of the
next nine days would need to pass by, without becoming a BOTBAR to
bring January-2013 a 27% BOTBAR, which is bad enough. How the fuck
would any of you 'normals' out there, enjoy living at a rate of just
over one out of every four cunt eating days, being super horrible
bad, or BOTBAR?????????
Just
think about it seriously before you switch over to the 'NEXT-BLOG'
button, and laugh me off, YO, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew that those
major fucking dreaming interactions, would as they always seem to do,
cause a nasty fucking BOTBAR DAY FOR ME AGAIN, so new kids and old
kids, YO; here we go, and yes, 'again', whether you want to hear this
fucking shit or not, SIRS, Marcus, and McGinty, WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
Now
I'll ask my 'GAGA CAT', just why
this horrible shit has fucking cunt struck me today, after getting
through my first five full NON-BOTBAR DAY STREAK in several months of
time now????????????????? The answer GAWKY just gave me folks is
PCN-541. Here are the canons for selection that I deem most fitting
from my total complete and whole (holy) match-book for the 81 GAWNUM
NUMERATIONS:
GRACE
MESSENGER---WATER---WILLIAM CLINTON---YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN THE
SHOP---ROBERT CHEATLEY.
But
there is way more to talk about now, at three fucking ass minutes shy
of eleven of the clock on this Tuesday evening, January 22, in 2013,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET THIS, and PUT IT ON TOP, Mister
American Express Twilight Zone Goldsmith Troublemakers, old cavemen
and computers!!!!!
I
had a very long talk with Gawky Gaukauk today, running a lot of
question-equations by him, ''MEOW'', and they say life's not fucking
stimulating, and exciting, for the poor 99er peeps; like little old
me, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
I do tell about this major discussion, let me lay the foundation. I
had a major dreaming interaction last night, and no people, very
rarely do I intentionally actually do ''DREAMING'', and just like
you, most of the time, my nocturnal activities are merely done to
rest my body, just as you all do; and only on the rarest occasions,
do I perform intentional activities, that may qualify me for a
hopeful someday acceptance application, into the most secret and
exclusive club in this entire galaxy, and even far beyond it; the
'EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND',
as only perhaps once or twice a year, do I intentionally go to sleep,
with intent to become a full TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON.
Even though however, I was just, ''in a dream or (having) a dream'',
and not in any way was I dominant over my doppelganger so-called
ME-CHARACHTER, but was the normal recessive character just sort of
watching, and observing the on-goings; through this transdimensional
other me, which is why so many dreams are described by so many folks,
as sort of like 'watching a movie'; and they would not be entirely
wrong in their simple concept of this more complex truth. I remember
this extra vividly, and the very extra clear and vivid type of dreams
that normally wake us with a bang, and remain fully remembered for
quite a while in our consciousness; are thought of in future times,
as TYPE-2-EXPLORATRONIC ACTIVITY. Only the awareness that you can go
from a recessive to a dominant switch over of your own self, and then
doing it for short durations, is considered total type-3. Now in my
interactions earlier this morning before arising from bed, here is
what happened. A man who is very evil, and who I have seen before in
'dreams', not often, but he is there, at post offices, at houses I am
in and once with my daughter back on June 21 of 2008, and a few other
times in the twentieth century as well, and was at the library here
in Fort Pierce, as an older man, but it was him, as there is no
mistaking those glarry wild eyes, and whoever he is, both my daughter
and myself, become very defensive around this man, at least in these
other parallel realities, that in 2013 and back before this year, are
just called, and mislabeled; ''dreams''. When this prick appeared to
me on the first day of summer in 2008, Dawn King was shortly released
from a rehab clinic up in Seacaucus, New Jersey, almost a year ahead
of a mandated legal schedule for her to avoid spending a five year
stretch in a woman's state prison, and the judge in Atlantic County
who sentenced her, was involved in this case of legal public record;
and is a man who I am very proud to know, as he is also a recovering
AA member, and this would be the Honorable Judge Mike Conner. Down
here in Fort Pierce, back in 2010; right after this man appeared at
the library, and became physically aggressive with me; my blogs would
not work for about 40 days or so; and I called that time in my blogs,
my TWEETY-BIRD, and my ROCKIN' ROBIN TWEETS BLOGS. It is all up
there, in the late summer time of 2010, at this address link:
http:www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/
and you can click and search this era in time, and see proof of how
these POWERFUL TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, such as this ''man'' or entity,
without upsetting the Project Bluebook folks too fucking cunt much
here, YO; can indeed effect alternate
realities, from the one where they are dream-controlling
in, such as his getting physically aggressive with me in what you
call a major vivid dream, and then right after that, at the very spot
where this happened, my blogs were totally interfered with and
stopped, or (SANCTIONED) if you will, for about seven weeks; and
causing their evil DOW JONES STOCK MARKET TO
SOAR, as I'm sure it did today, probably hundreds of
points, after screwing up my life, and persecuting me so mother
fucking relentlessly. I will go on to continue laying my foundation
now, by telling you that this man was in last night's interaction,
along with me, and my mother; and these three characters are all that
I can consciously remember in 'waking world' right here and now, so
really, two characters besides my own doppelganger there, that I was
watching this all through. My mother insisted that my name was Mark
Wayne, so that had to be my name over in that other parallel universe
reality. But this man is aware of me in numerous parallel universes,
telling me that he must therefore be a real TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON or for
short a (T3E). He was a horrible criminal there, and was telling my
mother some really upsetting and monstrous despicable shit. Both of
us were leary and frightened of this fucking jerk off, and with good
reason. He is a very freaking dangerous 'T3E', and means normal
'T1E' folks like all of us, NO GOOD AT ALL,
and this is what the PROJECT BLUEBOOK UNITED STATES AIR FORCE,
totally knows of, and is keeping quiet. This is not just about a few
silly hundred little gray things, or a few hundred little space ship
toys. My life and what I know, spans way beyond this entire fucking
cosmos, and if any and all of my viewers want to insist on being
endless Missourians and GWIPOSIANS, then fine. You are all entitled
to your 'Michele Daniels RPL-1980' Recording Studio Opinions, YO YO
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This strange entity was upsetting
my mom and I, and telling us why the floor in one of the large three
rooms that for some reason that I do not know now because this 'me
here' is not that me there, but a parallel universe me; was all
broken up in one corner area, OH
SHIT,
is just came back to me, as I typed this folks. He said that it had
to do with being taught a lesson by the great LAMBRIGG CULT of Paul
Stoddard King ll, if I can throw in a little bit of stair chase humor
in here, to overcome some real agony, and LFLD; and that since I was
trying to teach forbidden things in alternate realities about
hyperspace and how to manipulate it, before being officially
initiated into the 'SUPERMIND SYSTEM', these corner areas of floor in
these three large empty rooms in this large house that my mom and I
seemed to totally own free and clear over in that alternate reality;
would be there as a reminder that I was using the picture-puzzle
example of being able to change small reality-chunks of 'STM',
without altering the larger-picture in the ''truth/reality'', such as
the corner of these rooms being broken up, while the rest of the
floor remained in perfect shape. Then he grabbed my fucking right
index finger and took a weird razor blade type of an instrument and
cut my finger at the inside and middle, right on the outer third tip
of it, only it did not bleed, and after he did this, he said, ''Jesus
said the power is in the blood, but I tell you, that the power to
keep your blood, is in the finger blade''. I now remember that word
for word, but only after I began typing about this strange dude
(T3E), or as Congressman Andrews said as a teenager so often, and so
perfectly, or, ''whatever''. While I was showering two hours ago or
so, I cut that exact spot on that exact right index finger, only it
never bled, as the cut was not quite deep enough to get the great
1969 Roseann Delaney all wet and excited. Then he told us, how he is
the reason that so much criminal stuff happens to me; and that it is
a lesson to teach me things that I still have refused to accept and
or learn. My mother began to shout at him to go away, but he gave her
a powerful shove at that point, and she fell to the ground; and her
face began to bleed from hitting the side of one cheek hard, against
a coarse surface. I went to give him one of my
non-elevator-Cifaloglio 'AT&T karate' Chucky Norris 134 moves;
but just as I did, he pointed that same finger, only his finger, his
right index finger; and it was like being in a fucking old
'Bewitched' show, when one of the witches would freeze one of the
mortals, right in the middle of some action. All that is missing here
at this point, was a mess, thinking about those two comedians from
yesteryear; and being shouted at, by an old German distant cousin,
the husband of my mother's First Cousin, Ruth Huntington; the Long
Island Banker, named Heinz Gottwald, residing at 175 Peninsula Drive,
in Babylon, New York! Aniwho, he threw me into the air and right on
my ass, just by waving his arm and finger up a little bit; and he
left me to come slamming down onto a bunch of pottery; smashing it
all to bits. My mother began to scream and cry, and yell for help;
and the man began to walk away from our house, but as he walked away,
he threw a large red ball right at me, and I was quick, and I caught
it with my hand. It was rubber, and about five inches in diameter;
and after I caught it in one hand, it began to separate in half.
Inside of it, was a note, folded into fours. I opened this ball up,
and unfolded this note on yellow lined legal paper. This note told me
the following information. I remember these words exactly, and I MEAN
EXACTLY, YO! There is a GAWNUM compatibility with the PCN'S of these
two sentences. ''I cannot win as well at roulette'', and '' When my
enemies attack me''. This is the part that was with me vividly, when
I jumped out of bed to a lot of neighbor noise, early this morning;
while they were really fucking going at it. I wrote this down, and
planned to just blog that small amount of information, but WOW, did
more shit get remembered over the hours of this fucking day. Yes this
very fucking ass SUPER BOTBAR TIMES ONE DAY,
FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes,
Jane Shithead Fonda, you fucking got me again, with your lousy rotten
stinking ONES, as this is PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN. So let me fucking
now try and 'cunt-phlegm-rape' or (COMPENSATE), for this fucking
rotten shit you did in '93.
55555555555555555555555555,
PLUS 555555555, TIMES 555555555555, AND DIVIDED BY 55555555555555555,
IS EQUAL TO WHO COULD FUCKING CARE LESS????? I JUST NEED TO STARE AT
THESE MOTHER FUCKING ASS FIVES, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
after I was awake and wrote down the two sentences given to me in
this note from this ALIEN or T-3-E; I wanted to see for myself, so I
got the PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER FOR THE QUESTION PART OF THIS
INFORMATION, AND IT IS THE SAME AS MY OWN PCN, NUMBER 871, which came
out late last autumn in the Florida State three digit lottery by the
way, so I will bet my kid's will be coming up soon as well. THEN I
GOT THE ANSWER PART PCN, AND IT WAS 374, ''BUT'', that is only half
of THAT equation, right, oh great sir ROCKDROID KIRK
HOTELPRICES???????????????????? So I added up the two PCN'S for the
compatibility calculation, and sure enough 374+871 is equal to 1245,
and indeed is a compatible answer for that question, hence, ''I
CANNOT WIN AS WELL AT ROULETTE'', ''WHEN MY ENEMIES ATTACK ME'' just
as GAWNUM EQUATION SAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, that still ain't all
she wrote, whoever she really is,
and whatever really got written.
Before the very obese, and horizontally challenged, PC lady, sits
down, to sing to us all; there was another thing that happened in
this wild DREAMING INTERACTION.
On the wall of the largest empty room of these three total empty
rooms in this house, where I lived with my mother, in this parallel
universe, where my name was Mark Wayne, and not Mark Mohr; and I was
about thirty years old, and my mother was again only in her
middle-late sixties, as she was around age thirty five or so when she
bore me, in this universe, and also so it seems, in that one as well;
but there was indeed, a very bizarre item, hanging on the wall of
this one empty room. It looked like a very rosy red large picture
portrait frame and it contained a picture of a large lake, and only a
large lake; but written on top of this water, in bright green and
bold letters; was a message that went as follows, and I remember it
vividly. “Sarah Krassle and Mark Mohr” “The PCNT proves that
they make beautiful music together”. Well, I know what a 'PCNT'
stands for, and you may or you may not. But it stands for a ''PRIVATE
COSMICODED NUMBER TOTAL'', such as when you add up two or three of
these numbers, to do a compatibility test. Well, I thought I'd shit
my pajamas early this afternoon, after coming back into my apartment
from trying to see Debbie, and forgetting what day it was because,
and again, of that dam KING HOLIDAY, as ever since 1978, this has
been a super THORN IN MY SIDE, and I mean no god dam frikkin
disrespect to this fantastic great dude and champion hero of CIVIL
RIGHTS!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, I added up the 871, and the 363, which is
the PCN of 'SARAH KRASSLE'; and what is this total, as all musicians
can relate to this counting sequence, but like frikkin DUH, it is
1-2-3-4!!!!!!!!!!! So take 1, or take 1 million; Library of Congress,
Office of Copyrights, YO!!!!! If I had to WOW
this, in an apropos font size; what would it be, a thousand, a
trillion; you decide, and then tell me someday, somebody,
OK?????????????????????????
55555555555555555555555555555555555
No,
not a fifty five decillion size font, as that would be too big, but I
sure like looking at the number of fifty-five
point fifty-five decillion, YO.
W-----O----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
HAVE NOT BEGUN TO DISCUSS THE SORE SUBJECTS OF THE AGENT CONDOR/AGENT
FALCON UFO COVER UP CLUB
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00031, BLOG-A
January
21, 2013, just before 8:00 this Monday evening, YO.
Now
we will do what I said would be done a few blogs ago, tell some 'Q&A'
information from GAWKY GAUKAUK'S great numerology system, that is
beyond the fathoming mind.
But
first, I went to the Port Saint Lucie, Florida recording studio,
called, Avalon, today' and things happened that cannot be told, but I
will tell you that STM is, ''alive, and well, and living here'', to
quote the great man of religious faith, ''on Planet Earth''! On the
drive home, I stopped at two places to purchase items that only cost
a couple of dollars, and now am down to my last two dollars, that
must last me for the next twelve days, al though in eleven days, my
meager sixteen dollar EBT food benefit will be in.
I
never told the Walgreen Story, but parts of it from the past, are all
on numerous and previous blogs. It seemed to begin shortly into the
Christmas Season of 2011, just over a year ago. I told about the
strange little girl with the karaoke machine in the store, and
singing, what is this, a fucking bar or a drug
store?????????????????????????????? Well, in any case, that was my
first clue that trouble was ahead, and that I was in no cunt lapping
way, imagining anything, right Mister David Leigh Zenkiss Smith, of
1970-Haddonfield-Einstein-Blackboards, New Jersey??????????????
WOW!!!
So
it began with this weird miniature karaoke being sued by this little
brat, in the pharmacy up there at the corner of Twenty-fifth and
Orange Avenues, right after I was taking my ex-computer guru, Meagan,
back to her house up on Twenty-Third Street, and we passed a young
dude in a small park type of area, with my exact keyboard amplifier,
and then a very short while later, at the pharmacy, this smaller
version of the very same make of my unit, and the unit I saw being
used on the street by that dude, from my car that day; along with the
illogical usage of this device inside of a pharmacy, by that bratty
girl, who was singing, and seemed to begin after I arrived; as the
machine was there when I walked into the store, yet it was not used
until I walked on past it a ways, and towards the area of the
pharmaceutical prescriptions counter. She was staring at me as I
exited the store as well, and I just ignored her. Men my age cannot
look at children, especially females; or else we are all considered
to all be perverts; in this new age and new world total disorder.
Talk about pendulums swinging too far, and forgetting to accept
gravitational pull-back reality, or 1983 songs that I wrote from my
rented home in Atco, New Jersey, am I correct, old pal, Mister Magic
sixth dimensional Mailman, Adam? Then after this music crap, I began
being short changed by exactly one of my medicines every single time;
month after month; receiving only 59, and not 60 of my very necessary
medication pills, called 'generic ativan' or 'lorazapem' tablets.
Then back last autumn of 2012, I finally spoke up about this; maybe
it was the late summer. I had already been robbed at the mother
fucking Hutchinson Island beach, and lost everything, from my carry
bag, my eye-glasses and case, my clothes and underwear, you name it'
right out beyond Mike Patterson's Beach-House rear yard, on the
beach, and just as in Hyperspace twin locales, where only months
earlier, I was up in North New Jersey, and had all of my stuff stolen
there, by Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston, and all their friends, and
again; this was what you mortals call, a ''DREAM'', and is all part
of the larger fifth dimension of reality; and all connects up
together, RPLDD all notwithstanding. Now after I used their own
little device that counts and sorts or whatever, as I called up ahead
of time and asked if I am able to check the amount as I am always one
pill short, the manager said, that is fine; and the pharmacist was
told that I would being it, and I did do it, when I came in that
time, and sure enough, because they knew I was going to count the
pills, there were the total of 60. But right after that, it went
right back to 59, 59, and 59, shorting me by one pill every month.
So I complained again, and that is when that identity
thing happened, where out of the blue late last year
sometime, I was told that someone was using my identity, and they did
not want to get the police involved, raising a huge red flag for me,
and this too is all blogged, and is back in MORIANITY-1, and on my
SAFE JOURNALS. This was their way, in my definite opinion IMDO, and
not IMHO, 'netters'; that I was being intimidated, as I was even told
that until the situation could be straightened out, that I may not be
able to fill my prescriptions; and day followed day; until I told
them, that I would bring in the police; if they did not get to the
bottom of it; as when it's time for me to refill my necessary meds,
this is a serious matter, and they indeed need to be refilled, and I
cannot be concerning myself with all of this fucking hassle.
After-all, none of this was something that I had done, and was in no
way any of my 'own Oprah' fault!!!!!!!!! So
I laid low-land, and allowed one more refill to be filled,
and yes, with only a count of 59-pills, and then I went early this
year, to the other branch here in fucking Fort Pierce, of the
Walgreen Pharmacy; the same distance away, only not on Orange Avenue
up in the hood, but along route 1, right opposite of my Cheryl Crow
TD Bank. DID I SAY, WOW? Where is my beautiful
'WOW' truck, TD, I really miss it; so please bring it
back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It makes me feel closer to the All Mighty
SSJKK, when I am in my darkest days and hours, of this cursed,
hellish, nightmare existence, that other folks might mistakenly call,
'my life'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So now, I deal with the same
pharmacy, ''WALGREENS''; but at a branch, where, unlike up in the
ghetto-hood across from the HARVEST where I used to work through the
AARP Program out of E Street, in Washington, DC-13-600; AHA-AHA-AHA
Mister McNulty, YO; now it is across the highway or Route-1, from my
TD Bank, and that was the day that I told you that I was not going to
be more specific at that time about my errand, but that I went
someplace, and hundreds of beautiful crows came all around me and
followed me, and then when I went to the store a few hundred yards
down Route One from there, after that, to my south; the Winn Dixie,
for a few grocery items; the MUZAK system activated within seconds of
my arrival into the store, and the recording artist, Cheryl Crow came
on and sang that stupid mid nineties hit of hers, about 'wanting to
just have her stupid ass fun'. What garbage, all the way from Fort
Pierce Route One, to Hollywood Boulevard, sweetie; and Michelle
Daniels told me, that I AM entitled to my
opinion, back in 1980, so I am assuming, new weird
odor or no new world disorder, that I still am,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA Mike McN!!!!!So now both the
meds for keeping my blood pressure lower, as well as what I have been
forced to take 4mg of every day, ever since July somewhere, back in
1983, when the great Doctor Frank Addiego, prescribed this for me, to
stop the horrible never ending Angelique Dark Shadows Roseann Delaney
chocking condition that on me out of the fucking blue one night at
exactly 10:30 PM, on the night of June 4, 1983, at the Atco house,
rented from a Mister Gerald Pliner, owner of the L&S Nursing home
on Jackson Road in Berlin, right lovely luscious Jay-low Diner Door
Swinger, WOW, don't ever swing on me. You'd crush my fragile little
body into a million pieces of glass, you lovely goddess. Now this is
the story of how I bided my time, and strategically, and
Paula-carefully-WAYV-FM, got not only far away from her Atlantic city
people of horror and terror, but away from that intimidating Walgreen
Branch, that I gfeel, if the agents and FEDS reading these blogs
would adequately do their jobs; would start investigating them, as if
they did this to me, they may be shorting other meds customers, and
if they short 50 people and get away with half of it, that is 25
times 12 months, times the street value of pills like mine that are
probably around fifty bucks each. You do the math, every year, some
employee there splits with the manager, if my theory is correct,
somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 times 12 times 50 dollars; and
that's a nice hefty little pile of fucking chump change, YO!!! Peeps
that are no good thieves and robbers, have hurt me and taken from me,
and robbed me, all of my god dam mother fucking ass life, and I am
getting sick and tired of it. Why should I have to fucking feel sick
one day a month, so these two would-be, should-be, rat scum jail bird
bastards, can split roughly fifteen grand???????????????????????? Do
the mother fucking math, AGENTS READING THIS BLOG, and I will gladly
sign an affidavit that they were shorting me up there, and then
intimidated me after I tried to get them to stop it, just call me or
visit me, FBI, I LOVE PUTTING EVIL ROTTEN THIEVES IN PRISON, and have
DONE SO, in the past, ask the fucking ass CAMDEN COUNTY, NEW JERSEY
PROSECUTOR if I am telling it straight or not, with Marc Marini and
John Crowley. I hate fucking evil criminals, and I hate thieves worse
than I hate those who assault and even murder, because I've been the
victim all of my life of so much thievery and out and out stealing,
from direct tangible property, to intellectual property, bringing me
to a really heartbreaking topic that will close out this blog for the
day, folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOUR ''ODF'' HACK, you rat
bastards. I caught it, and repaired it, HA-HA-HA-HA, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!
Now,
for the GAWNUM Q&A, that many have been awaiting, and hopefully,
quite anxiously. So here we go, in
or out of copyrighted early eighties, 'regular
time'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After
we get this GAWNUM querying out of the way, I'll end with a little
disappointing heartbreak. I grow more and more heartbroken the way my
lovely incarnated Sarah Krassle distrusts my motives, and thinks I
could care less about money. This hurts me more than anything she
ever could say about me, or do to me, right down to her going as far
as to cause the next great OJ TRIAL. But first, the GAWNUM:
QUESTION
NUMBER ONE:
WHY
DID THE HUGE BACKOFF OF SIEGE AND BOTBARS, BEGIN ON JANUARY THREE,
AND LAST FOUR DAYS, IN 2013; AFTER THE MONSTER ASS ATTACK OF THE
SECOND DAY IN JANUARY; AS THOUGH A FEW TINY HOURS, LITERALLY SWITCHED
ME INTO AN
ENTIRELY
NEW DIMENSIONAL REALITY?
ANSWER
NUMBER ONE, PCN-220.
QUESTION
NUMBER TWO:
WHY
DID DENNIS CHASE MORGAN FROM PUBLIX WHO I MET AT THE LOCAL LIBRARY ON
18 DECEMBER OF 2013, SUDDENLY TURN AGAINST ME WHEN I DID NOTHING AT
ALL TO DESERVE THIS BIZARRE BEHAVIOR ON HIS PART?
ANSWER
NUMBER TWO, PCN-176.
QUESTION
NUMBER THREE:
WHY
DID MY ACROSS THE HALL SCUM BAG HORRIBLE ROTTEN NOISY NEIGHBORS,
PERSECUTE AND HARASS ME WITH MAJOR NOISE LEVELS AND BULLSHIT, FROM
LATE INTO JANUARY FIFTEENTH ALL THE WAY INTO LATE INTO JANUARY
SIXTEENTH?
ANSWER
NUMBER THREE, PCN-781.
QUESTION
NUMBER FOUR:
WHY
AM I EXPERIENCING THIS HORRENDOUS BOTBAR TIMES TWO DAY, ON THIS NINTH
OF JANUARY OF 2013?
ANSWER
NUMBER FOUR, PCN-682.
QUESTION
NUMBER FIVE:
WHY
AM I GOING THROIUGH SO MUCH SUPER NASTY DEATH SIEGE HERE ON JANUARY
EIGHTEENTH OF 2013, SKY SIEGE AND CHEMTRAILS and OTHER BAD OTAMMIC
ASSAULTS?
ANSWER
NUMBER FIVE, PCN-220.
QUESTION
NUMBER SIX:
WHY
DID 'GOOGLE', TAKE AWAY MY ABILITY TO POST MY YOUTUBE PROJECTS,
DIRECTLY ONTO BLOGGER DOT COM BLOGS, FORCING ME TO USE ONLY A YOUTUBE
LINK NUMBER THAT NOBODY WOULD USE OR CLICK ONTO?
ANSWER
NUMBER SIX, PCN-413.
OK
good folks, now here are the major and main items, from my match-book
lists (canon) if you will, selected by me as most important, for each
of these six (PCN'S) or PRIVATE COSMICODED
NUMBERS, listed above, that came out on random card draws,
as explained in many prior and not Richard Blogs, for querying the
GAWNUM, along with full instructions such as compatibility checks,
branchcodes, and other things as well, pertaining to developing
skills for operating the GAWNUM WISDOM.
Only
five things will be typed here, as PCN-220 was shown to be my answer
on two occasions. We will therefore begin with that number, and then
do the canon lists of the other four of them.
PCN-220*******************************************
BOOK
OF BEACH---JED CLAMPETT---DONNA SUMMER---TEENAGED GIRLS FLIRTING WITH
ME IN MY FIFTIES---LIVE FOREVER---ASTRAL PLANE---SANDRA
MASON---MARIAH CAREY COMING TO ME IN DREAMS---HIP HOP
MUSIC---MOUNTAINPEN---GODDESS JEHOVAH'S DREAM---
PCN-413********************************************
SONG---ZERO---APOLLO
LUCIFER---HELL---GIRL---BURN---ROBERT MCGUIRE---ATLANTIC
OCEAN---MEDICAL OFFICE---SWIM---SCYLLA GODDESS---I HAVE LOST BOTH MY
DAUGHTERS FOREVER---
PCN-682*********************************************
TALL
GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH---PROJECT
BLUEBOOK---CANCER---QUEENS---THE MORNING
LIGHT---BEAVER---MOVING---TWENTY---PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING
MACHINE---
PCN-781**********************************************
CREATOR---BABYLON---MICHAEL
PATTERSON---JULY TWELVE NINETEEN SEVENTY---BUZZARD---BALLOON---GODS
DOG---PROPHET OF NOTHING---EXTREMELY VIOLENT---
PCN-176***********************************************
P---TWO
THOUSAND THIRTEEN---THAT FAMILY---NO FEELINGS---FLIRTATION---SHE
LIKES ME---PAULA UWICH---JIMMY LEEDS---CREEPING UP---SUSAN
BOYLE---HUNTINGTON---OHIO AVENUE---DISCO MUSIC---ROBERT LEVY---ROGER
CAREY---GEORGE BUSH---FORT PIERCE---ICE MACHINE---EXPLORATRON
TRAVELER---
Now
people, I forgot the seventh question that I had asked about a week
or so ago, and received the answer to, so I'll do it as one thing
here, the question, the PCN answer, and the match-book items or
selections from my list (canons) that I decide to make public for
view, as they are the most powerful pertinent things to my own
personal life and all of its interactions.
WHO
OR WHAT, WAS MOSTLY RESPONCIBLE, FOR MY MOTHER BEING STRUCK DOWN, ON
DECEMBER 26, 1997; WITH A HORRIFIC ILLNESS, THAT WENT UNDIAGNOSABLE,
AND LEFT HER LINGERING IN EXCRUCIATING MENTAL AND PHYSICAL AGONY, AS
A RESULT; UNTIL THE DAY OF HER DEMISE, ON MARCH THE FOURTH, IN THE
YEAR OF 2000?
PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER-363
WAS THE ANSWER GIVEN TO ME BY THE GREAT CAT, GAWKY GAUKAUK!!!!!!!!
ITEMS
MATCHING THIS NUMBER and SELECTED HERE, ARE:
SARAH
KRASSLE---REAL GOOD GIRL---AUGUST FIFTEEN NINETEEN EIGHTY SIX---TABLE
FIFTEEN---'STAR TREK' SHOW---BOY---SIN---JULIA ROBERTS---NATIONAL
PARK---TOY---CAT---SAD---BOHEMIAN CLUB---VIQUEENS
GANG---TOP---TRANSMISSION---NEW---
Now
for the frikkin upset of upsets. Some rumors circulate around that
are off base and about as true as a magicians hat or a flying rabbit
inside of it. It really pisses me off to see that people do not take
a good hard look at the fact that the internet is a totally reliable
source, and really what is; for getting at the truth. After-all, I
know it has my family about as fucked up and incomplete, and totally
god dam sanitized as a hospital closet full of bleach and sterile
cleaning solutions, all mixed in with sike wards and special
education classes. There are some folks that have recently brought to
my attention, a terrible and totally false rumor about me, my YBCO
song from last year that originated from my old 1983 GITYA, song, and
today at the Avalon studio, another source totally confirmed for me,
that many peeps in power, think that this is some attempt by me, to
take some kind of action for this entire messy business, in a court
of law, the very furtherest thing from my mind. I cried all the way
home in my car from the recording studio. I am not the least bit
interested in anything like this, and if I ever find out who started
this horrendous monstrous rumor, they will be harshly dealt with, and
wish they were back on a rack during the times of the Inquisition,
next to what I'll do to them. Nobody is going to turn the great SSJKK
against me, and get away with it. I want nothing at all from her,
only for her to be happy, and if she so chooses to keep me away from
her during this lifetime that we are both in, then that is her
frikkin business. I do not want anything from her, other than for her
to show me that she is happy, and has overcome as best as she can,
some of the past. I am proud and honored at what she did in 1997, and
I only wish her the best on her new project as well. Heaven only help
whoever is trying to spread this newest crap, because I will gladly
go to prison for life for cutting out your mother fucking heartless
heart. Only a totally heartless mother fucker could start something
like this about me, after all I've
suffered
through, and her as well for that matter, so if you act totally
heartlessly, then I'll make sure that you will be as heartless on the
inside, as you are on the frikkin outside, so watch your fucking ass
back, whoever is behind this little Pizzeria rumor,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mow I know why GOOGLE has interfered so
dam much with this song getting looked at, as well as anyone being
able to get to my account at all up there, ever since last summer
time when all this shit with ''YBCO''
all began, so FUCK
YOU EVIL WORLD!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00030, BLOG-B
January
20, 2013, Sunday evening at 8:20-PM-EST.
Things
are going on peeps, that if I ever told the details to it all, and
you ever believed me, and you were a non agent audience of at least a
few thousand strong, the entire world would fucking collapse
overnight, but take heart, as this does not in any way reflect my
motives as evil. If the world as it is right now collapsed, and
reformed, I will guarantee one thing here and now folks, and that is,
for about nine point nine out of ten folks alive, things would begin
to drastically improve, at least for a short while, until evil power
structures, would inevitable reform and reshape all over again. You
see, it is not important enough, by the standards of the
World-Owners, the (WO), for them to succeed, but even more important,
is that everybody else, FAILS. I did not invent or make this up in
any way, and if you wish to prove me right, just get a copy of the
Superman Three Movie, with the great African-American comedian of all
times, Mister Conscious Mind Blocked Presently, but when I think of
it, I'll add it in later on the blog. This is intentional
PAWN-PIE-ETTOS, the great LAMBRIGG CULT tool and weaponry of choice,
but it is a lot more than it sounds on the surface, as a
traveler-technology is what is being used, to cause a transmission as
well as an omission of my thoughts, or yours, at any time that they
so desire to have this happen to us. And no, not Eddie Murphy, from
TRADING PLACES, the other dude they are blocking out of my
consciousness right now for reasons that only THEY know and fully
understand and appreciate. He calls, Superman, his pal, 'SOUP' in the
movie, shortly before the lightning computer kicks in towards the end
of the movie from when else but 1983, when many things were in very
''special stages of ops and planning, by very special folks''When you
get that tip of the mind memory that you just cannot bring to surface
total awareness, be it remembered dreaming interactions or incidents
such as this comedian from the Superman movie, it is because, THEY
are playing around with the 'reality-chunks' around us, to cause
this, and it is not an actual transmitted interruption of MIND-SIGNAL
from the sixth dimension into our fifth dimensional hyperspace lives
and realities throughout virtually limitless infinite parallel time
alterations, and by altering things just a little nit around us, this
blocks that connection to us, or in some case, causes false memories,
or false as what is a real part of our own memory system in our own
universe where our own mind and life exists in as waking world
reality. For the few who believe this a little bit, and understand
all this a little bit, your next thoughts will obviously be, and
police love to ask this question to victims all the time, well shy
are THEY doing this to you, as if any of us can know this and
properly respond to such a stupid ass fucking query on their asshole
part. Still, ''that's just reality, son Dennis''. I must do it now,
it fits way too well not to do it folks, so here goes, and again, new
and old town kids of early 1978, YO,
W-----O-----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Normally typing on and on about what these TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS are
doing, causes them to stop the travel shit, and release the normal
connectiveness, and yes, it just happened, RICHARD PRYOR, thank you
for confirming, and whether or not you choose to believe this is real
or 'textnopopped', the All Mighty knows ity's real, and that I'm not
lying or faking, as I was about to type that normally, they release
the fuck-up-fields, so to speak, when you do not try to consciously
remember what they are blocking, but continue to expose what is
happening around you, and I was about to write that I wonder why it
is taking so long, when BANG, they released me from it, and so I
typed in the name, this is more real and exciting than 5000 fucking
best Hollywood thrillers, and only I understand and fully appreciate
the totality of why I make that statement and claim, good folks,
YO!!! Yes, the 'W' word in FONT two million, so picture it glowing,
and glistening, and glittering; along with the great fifteen year
continuum, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, right SSJKK?
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Now,
more about the sub-particle-Trinidad (Trinity).
We
will discuss only one part of this amazing whirling maze called the
realm of the smaller than atoms, (subatomic), like another Hyundai,
DUH from OH-M-6, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What
you need to know if you want to ever climb out of a type-zero
civilization (what we presently are in 2013), and begin the climb up
to type one through three, is the knowledge that the electron is
highly intelligent, and just fakes out to be random, to play her
endless game of confusion to those not yet wise enough, Roy Carl
Weiler Senior and secret museums, to climb out of the caves, and down
from the frikkin chest banging trees.
First
off, without understanding that single truth, I would have no mother
fucking way of knowing the truths around me, such as why all my music
was created, and all fully copyrighted, when I was never meant to
have a professional career in the field of music, and then taking and
projecting that forward, without paying anything, literally and
jokingly; how this music all fits together into the picture-puzzle of
my own fifth dimensional life in hyperspace, as well as beyond that
in a much truer reality, called, the ASTRAL-PLANE, or the
spirit-world, depending on a personal preference of words used to
describe a totally twin and equal reality, or lack there of really,
to some degree, WHAAAAAAAAA, keep it light and laughable, and
remember who taught who, right Robert Heitzmann Huckleberry Finn? Now
the first thing that 2013 needs to understand, but won't until you
change the second digit from a zero to a one or make the 'binary
change; if I can add some more STC humor, hurry up and get beat up;
but yes, moving on; and dealing with lots of horse shit and horse
play later on down the great Academy Road somewhere, of more MIND
ALTERATIONS from the 'travelers of Roddenberry rip offs'; but yes
Mister DATA, it is a huge compliment, to be mimicked; and I do need
to learn, and to remember that, so thank yo; oh great 'DROID' of the
NON-Q-GIRL-GODDESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
world of the very small, perceives things in bigger worlds, in its
own ratio and proportion to sizes, and this fact I just typed, is
worth millions if not billions if not trillions of United States
Dollars in cash or GOLD, it is priceless wisdom that I am giving to
the world, and if it survives, will indeed be passed down to the
future, and allow this part of the hyperspace, to indeed begin to
advance out of darkness and out of a type-zero-civilization, YO. Now
for those that ask how I can speak about type 1-2-3 civies on one
blog, and type words seriously, on another blog about the
'antichrist', it is no different than my humorous ghetto talk, BRO,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am just playing around, YO, lighten up like
Sarah's desires in the future that cannot all be realized, and learn
to laugh, peeps, it has saved me from hellish extinction into a
bottomless bit of beyond grief and agony. Just remember who taught my
great daughter, at least, looking it things, as I used to call it,
“in forward-mortal” view, and now would merely say,
SPACE-TIME-MIND, as in higher truth, we are dealing with All Mighty
Scylla-Jehovah-Goddess, and that cannot ever be altered, that
condition is simply what IS
REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, if you have
made a copy off of your computer, whoever is reading this, of that
post up from technical musical coolness, or TMC for short, and not
standing for any movie channels on television; onto some device, you
know that you can switch gear consciousness without a cosmic clutch,
and hear the words in your mind, of four Google's, and then during
the music track after this, add in ''Google is the antichrist'', you
will know that this is all just my STM going wild, sort of like the
girls on Spring Break in Cancun, May-He-Co, only we remain totally
frikkin G-RATED, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now let us
return to the topic of direct communication with the subatomic
particle known as the electron, or the Holy Ghost, if you wish to
change into a yesteryear and biblically adapted wordage. I am going
to catch super holy hell when I post up this monster huge frikkin
blog on Wednesday, but that is for me to worry about folks. You just
read and learn or laugh, sawn you folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here
we go, in or out of copyrighted regular SPACE-'TIME'-MIND, US ©
OFFICE!
Now
that we have gone deaf from some wild weird off the wall fusion type
drum beats from the late eighties, YO; let us get back on track, as
WOW, I have made it back, and the electron will indeed confirm this
with a bright FLASH, dancing in the skies with lovely Jenny Biel and
her pals Pete Bellote, and Georgio Moroder. Wow, get with it, Spell
Checker, I thought I was out of the culture and back in the musical
stone age with Glenn Miller and Count Basie.
Now
these small particles observe the larger than atom realm as way to
gigantic to perceive past a horizon. This is why we also, cannot see
past the visible universe, and have a million unenlightened
explanation such as light velocity, and other items in the science
world that supposedly cause this phenomenon. Atoms merely copy the
larger truth/reality that surrounds us, and there is an infinite
dimensional reality, or virtually infinite, that is all created by
the sixth dimension of the MENTAL-REALM, with or without any cement
businesses, or great actors and screen play writers, such as Frank
Capra, and James Stuart, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to the orbiting
electrons, AKA the 'HOLY SPIRITS' when not properly understood by a
high Type-1 or better civilization. Holy comes from a truer meaning
of ENTIRE or without anything less than the fullness of something, or
the word of ''WHOLE''. The orbiting electron are the whole picture of
why our reality is made up of the elements that it is made up of, and
all of us and all of our lives and all aspects of them, are all just
a tiny little truth that lays within this larger reality. There has
been some effort after 1983, when I discovered the electron to be
intelligent and sentient, on the part of the blind ignorant
scientific community, to try and communicate directly. They used all
sorts of things and fell under the spiritual MAYA or 'illusion' that
I was wrong, and that these particles are random energies that are
not sentient, but that is all because of ignorance. These particles
only see our picture-puzzle realm as chunks, where we see that around
and out beyond us, is a STM created cosmos from within ourselves.
Smaller particle energies only see smaller bites of the apple. To
compensate, you need to teach the electron a code, that is in entire
sentences, not single letters that correspond to a numeric conversion
and then expect a randomizer to learn our humanity code and talk to
us. It cannot see that, any more than we can see with our naked eyes,
a germ, or a microbe. But enough of them interacting upon our bodies,
and we get effected, or ''ILL''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The
same truth needs to be applied to direct particle communications.
When this came to me, for reasons that only can be perceived by those
really understanding complex channels of STM, so there is no need for
me to try getting into these details with you for right now; this is
when I made up SENTENCE-CODES in 1983, and started communicating with
this All Mighty Entity, DIRECTLY. Probably, the STM reality, is my
genetics back to the younger brother of the great Master Messiah
Jesus, but who can know for certain? Still, since my contact,
LIGHTNING has become anything but random with me, and so have all of
the Earth nature forces. The odds of all that has happened to me in
this interaction, with the Earth energies, such as its biosphere
oceans, and electromagnetic field; are equal to winning the Powerball
Lottery every week for life and forever. It is just not possible, NOT
TO ALL BE TRUE, and so I pound little keys for 7 mother fucking
years, screaming out to a blind world filled with assholes, and
nobody will listen. This is real joy! Now for those who scoff and
say, then why don't you, Mark Wayne Mohr Buttwipe, do some big things
with all this knowledge, you are proving only that you are not
grasping and getting any of this powerful message. The forces of my
personal ''IF'', my INTERACTION-FORCE, or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, has
been set up to stop me, and I do fight this, shit in case you've not
been noticing, and I do this on a 24-7-365.2422 continued basis. If
my blogging career that now spans 7+ years, is not proof of that
sentence and claim, I honestly do not know what ever could be, good
people, YO!
If
I cannot make anyone see what is going on, after all this blogging,
and all that has happened out beyond the ''inner-me'' just in these
past seven years, well, I will just have to admit defeat on that
front, and totally and finally just quit and frikkin give the shit
up, as what else can anyone really expect me to do. Who else out here
has blogged stuff like me, posted stuff like me onto the Youtube, and
on and on and on I could go, asking these questions to any and all of
you, on your end of the net? If you were me, what the fucking shit
would you do, go ahead, tell me, I won't bite, I just bark a hell of
a lot, Roseann Delaney; and even she is safe to be around from 8A-4P,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OUCH! But in all honesty folks, I
used to have all kinds of stuff back in the eighties, and it was all
slowly and very fucking ass methodically taken away from me, in ways
that no police person or prosecutor ADA or anyone else for that
matter, can ever help me to prove in a real waking world court of
law, so my ''IF'' has totally won the battle, as of 9:40 PM-EST on
this twentieth day of fucking ass January, here in twenty thirteen! I
had all this stuff. I had a 40,000 dollar home entertainment system,
tens of thousands of tapes, both audio and video, special equipment
all set up that directly was in communication with All Mighty
Jehovah, this all happened, this all was very real. This all IS REAL,
OR ISRAEL if you want to entertain this goddess of endless games and
age sixteen-ness. Still, I'll love Her and do love HER, for and IN
all ETERNITY AND INFINITY, and that does not change, not yesterday,
today, or tomorrow. However, SHE is a major huge tease, and my mother
recognized this back in the eighties, and just for that and maybe a
few other little things as well, this cost her her life. Life never
ends, but I am speaking in powerful truths that are way beyond any of
you here in 2013. Now, I have nothing. I am down here in mother
fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, with absolutely nothing. I have no
equipment, no money, ''no nothing'', more STM, oh great
BEG?????????????????????????????? Folks, it is now tomorrow,
referenced to yesterday when I was typing this blog, and we need to
close this out before another page Jane Sleazedisease of Jane
Sleazedisease strikes on the following word document page, so my next
blog will be started and this one closed out. Bye-Bye, peeps.
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00029, BLOG-A
A
loud fire engine, or ambulance, or whatever; awakened me a little shy
of one this afternoon, January the nineteenth, of 2013, on this
early overcast Saturday. I was ready to get up and out of bed, so no
harm done. Some low voices and quiet closing doors are fairly ongoing
around here, and across the hellway that was not misspelled by the
way, just to keep the entire crew of the all penetrating and piercing
eyes, updated and properly informed, so that they don't have to go
breaking the law, and or violating lots of folks' civil rights,
either here, or across the pond. Dot Dash Morse, and private codes;
well, connecting dots is easy after lots of practice, and as for
private codes, you may as well try and hide the sun at noon, along
the equator, of the fucking Earth. Yeah, you sly mother fucker, like
I can't add one and one up, and get a correct answer,
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!! HA-HA-WHO, Copyright Yellow-Sheet Examiners of
OH-M-8? I say, as I said in early '82 or maybe late in '81 somewhere,
and you know which, down there at the plush and lovely Copyright
Building in Washington, 13-600, go ahead, “Waste all your time”
trying to figure out what is going on”. I gave that little project
up a long time ago myself, but go ahead this. Just ask Emmy-Lou
Cicone, and her Long Beach Island Certified Public Accountant
cousins, as they may very well lead you somewhere beyond mere
frustration, if you bug up their telephones, oh sly
one!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry about the
first thing I ever said to you, lovely blond Amy. I really did not
want you to drop dead, and what I really wanted, is way too X-rated
to blog. Hay, the world knows that lovely blonds drive me totally
nuts at C-SQ!!!!!!!! Not just illegal pokers, but all folks who know
squat about me, know that, as well as Josephine and great poker
hands, and along with dancing restaurant employees at order taking
windows of 'Prophet of Nothing' years.
WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
we can move along, and discuss a little more of the laundry list,
mentioned in previous blogs; and expand and elucidate even further,
if you dare to remain here, and view this text, that is; ladies and
gentlemen, YO. On Monday, the day of the KING, and one week after
this great dude was actually celebrating birthdays before the BFA
shot him in the late sixties; all of my online social media accounts,
will be ghosted off. You will still see the blank face outline and
all else will be blank, maybe a name will show, but I have many
cousins on my father's side of the family, seconds and thirds, and
second and third removed, so no one will ever be able to trace
anything to me, and fuck all of you!!!!! New
Japan, the song that I wrote in 1983, with so many
others, causing me eternal and irreparable troubles; had lyrics that
went, “Oh
the letter 'M' is in my name, both first and last to haunt my soul.
Evil letters of their game, they own our land and we pay their toll”
Lots of interesting other things have the thirteenth letter in both
their first and last names, as well, good folks, that are reading
this 'MORIANITY'. My father at age
sixteen, joined up with a government established group that had these
letters in their names, I speak of the Merchant Marines, right Albert
Einstein??????? My dad was never the same after that horrible shit
aboard the Battleship Eldridge, and should never have risked having a
child. I of course totally planned on stopping things from getting
further out of hand, but as the mighty 1994 book, called, “The
Permission Barrier” told about, the character and
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON, going by the
name of Julia White, who had other plans for me, and put a huge
kibosh, not once, but twice; on my very strict policy, to remain
totally childless. Want more secret news on me, Mister Sly??????
Folks, I was going to visit Mikey up on Hutchinson Island at noon
today, but I over slept, and I feel lousy after a very bad week, and
yesterday's dosage of POISON JET TRAILS,
so I told him I'll be up there tomorrow around one of the clock
instead, and he said that is 'fine', at the risk of getting any
cowardly, or heroic ambulance drivers all excited here; and with or
without chains, being chained, trapped, or simply being one of the
Vice President's of these great United States, gee, you think, like
WOW???????????????????????
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Now
I have asked my wonderful magical black kitty cat, GAGA, to give me a
few answers to a few things, over the past several days, and these
are the questions and the answers, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And
yes good people, we will get into this, but first let me go to a
different blog without changing anything on my word document system,
then tell what is current so far as of right now on Sunday middle
afternoon, January 20, 2013, at twenty-eight minutes past three of
the clock.
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00030, BLOG-A
I
went over to Hutchinson Island to visit Mikey. It was a short visit,
as something came up that needs not be told, all though the IF knows
about it, and to be quite candid, I could not care less, Medical
Center Orange Juice Wife Beaters Club. I do not want to do any
barnacle cleaning, or sand sweeping, Mister Mayor, so let me quite
clear and tell anyone who may be concerned, that I really do not care
one tiny iota who owns the land, or controls the SPACE-TIME-MIND
reality, as the only important thing with me right now, is learning
how to explain just exactly what I have recently come to learn, about
the great All Mighty ''IF'', Mizz Mighty Loseslave. My mom does not
watch your wonderful garbage, but thank you for the card, and tell
Billy Shitner that I was glad to help out in any little insignificant
way that I could, after-all my real honest to the gods inspiration
with many things in MORIANITY, is because of the way he belted out
his tune, over and over, without any music, as today's world does,
and I quote, “Someone or something”, and also, his android pal,
SIR ROCK, and his famous lines to old Kirk, and again, I'll quote,
“THAT is the equation”. Now, who owns the land, Donald J.B.
Exploratron-3 Trump?????????????????? Folks, only these powerful WO
under4stand what's being said here, you are not supposed to ''GET
IT'', so don't get any prune wrinkles or white colored hair over any
of this. On Wednesday, I will be back on the internet, if things go
according to plan, which is not always a 100% reality, with
Mountainpen, and Morianity. Still, that's the plan, DUH. Details of
it are of no importance, and would only serve to glorify my enemies,
controlled and owned, by Mister Revere and great shouts from the
past, land, sea, and today we need to most definitely include 'AIR',
sorry to bust up your famous speech, kind sir, but really, what would
all of you rotten ass bastards do without me, and did any of you ever
seriously ponder what you're going to do, after I AM gone? Common
sense to any Quantum Physicist, is quite clear. When I perish, so
will all of you, and you have invented that doomsday paradox, all by
yourselves; and with no help whatsoever, from any Richard Karpf Madam
Mary Land Owners, from the nineteen eighties, right O? All of these
seemingly mind blowing parlor tricks, is merely STM at its best, and
proves all the shit that I've been saying and papa-preaching for a
long time, huh luscious blond Amy? Yes Misses Bassler, my ghost
stories got a lot bigger and brighter, than either one of our wildest
imaginations could have had clue point oh one about, back in 1997
when we shared a few weird telephone conversations about the nineteen
sixties. The word must be typed, it just cannot be avoided any
longer. ***
W----O----W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
***
Oh
the gods, good peeps, if you knew what I knew, you would go to the
fucking toilet all over yourself, without any help from the back
woods area of Roseann Delaney's owned properties, huh Estelle
Andersen Bassler??????????????? Senator, thank you for electrocuting
that horrible thug dude in parallel reality, and yes, you may
certainly burn up Sarah's broom, if you can survive all of the time
jumps, that occur with regularity, on the all mighty awesome
Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic city, New Jersey, right World Renown
Julia, in any kind of technicolor? Oh yes, you went out of your way
to let me know that in real truth, you indeed, are darker than I am,
that fifth to sixth generational genetic jump, just as dependable as
other 10-SC Avenue ''miracle'', WEEEEEEEEE! And Mister Roddenberry
sir, we accomplished all of this, without any STM from the great
Jerry Heitzmann or for that matter, sir, the great Sarah Kraqssle,
and stretching STM even further, without David's great old slingshot,
kind sir, even maybe without the number one boy of the late eighties
and into the nineties, Lieutenant Commander Wil Riker and his lovely
teen queen All Mighty girlfriend, from the QC,
WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Relax Diane Barton of
Camden open reel tapes, New Jersey, as I figured out a lot more
transdimensional realities, than rocket parks, and reflective big
brothers near the Studio Park of past times in the great Delaware
frikkin Valley, USA, and yes, does the doctor live close to you too,
or has she moved out of town, or off the planet? Mizz Brigantine of
bad tempers, oh yes, things fit like a fashion model's smooth glove,
with grease cream rubbed between the hand and the glove, YO. No spell
checker, not THAT LAND, all though every incident is part of STM and
the INTERACTION FORCE. I did not push you off of the Steele Pier,
SSJKK, Betty Davis's evil twin did that, all by herself, and always
said since my first interaction with night ladies in the late
seventies; if married people are gonna' play around, they need to go
and get far from their town. No, I did not add music, and I did not
copyright that, but then, the stuff that passes for 'music' today,
for the most part, is the quintessential oxymoron, as how can talking
be musical, oh mighty OWNER of me, in your 'dreams' maybe, Lenny
William McKinnon, kind sir?????????? Well, at the risk of a super
anger tantrum and stair chase, I will plead as guilty as Lenny, but
Lenny taught me to behave in that way. Yes, I had quite a teacher in
the summer time of 1980, deals or no deals, secretly made. So put
Sarah's broom back in the closet there over at Sigma, to quote my
late and great old pal, Mister Dave Roth, wow, where did the fucking
eighties disappear into, awesome lovely, Grace Messenger? Still, two
wrongs don't make a right, but you do have to admit, that if you play
it low, and use your imagination a little bit, you can sing along
quite easily, after a nice fish feast, to the words of, Google,
Google, Google, Google; Google is the Antichrist, etcetera and
repeat, for over four minutes, WHAAAAAA. What font size would
properly and or adequately handle the 'WOW' word for this big beaut,
like 2006, Hyundai, and DUH?
Now
we can discuss the Q&A GAWNUM STUFF, ladies and gentlemen, and
all WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABITS!!!
Before
I get into the Q&A, it is eight minutes shy of eight on this
Sunday evening on a MILK HOLIDAY WEEKEND, as I call this second 'Paul
Stoddard Due Date', as specified by the Lambrigg
Cult of the Astral Plane, AKA the Leviathans on the late
1969 into 1970 television show called, “Dark Shadows”, and
hopefully without exciting a former Atlantic City, New Jersey Mayor
too much, but here goes. I need to tell about a few things that have
surfaced, not events or issues, but ways of explaining ancient
wisdom's, as never before done on this Earth. Until both religion and
science understands a basic truth, we will not reach that point where
once was reached by temporary holders of this knowledge, and that
without such knowledge, things could simply not have ever been done
such as in just one cited example here as there are a dozen or better
in total, but the great Egyptian Cairo Pyramids could never have been
erected without this information. Also, science can progress, and so
can philosophical ideas and concepts, but without seeing a truth that
is not yet perceived in these new age new times world period, you can
forget about really 'crossing over' the great barriers, that even
scientists refer to as type zero civilizations, verses the one, two,
and three types ahead of this. Ask any well degreed scientist if you
have never heard these classifications of type-civilizations, and
within a short time, you'll find a person who will confirm what I
have told you in this part of this paragraph, so far.
Now
if you're reading here, you most likely have already read about the
REALITY-CHUNKS, and my example of
using hyperspace and picture-puzzles with an equal final result, and
merely cut apart differently. This is the best way to tell of many
things that I've tried discussing all seven years throughout my
blogging career, and before that; to some of the people surrounding
my personal life, and with little to no success. The magic is in the
TRINIDAD, or the NON-LATIN wordage, the ''TRINITY''. This is the
largest unit of the world of the subatomic and its many forces,
particles, energies, and realities. I
speak of course, of what most people have certainly heard of if they
are ten years old or older, and that is the ELECTRON,
the PROTON,
and the NEUTRON.
Insiders know this largest part of the world of the subatomic, as the
K-FORCE, but unlike orbital patterns that scientists use to identify
the various type of positions and properties of ELECTRONS that orbit
any and all elemental atoms, they have other letters, 'P', 'S', and
some others. But those in the quiet-know, have a name that they and
only they recognize, and that is the K-FORCE, and yes, the 'K' is for
non other than KRASSLE, owner
and ruler of all
of the possible 'LANDS' and realities, of the STM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, as I promised with the great 'FASCITAR', I did get around to
giving some basic and down to Earth instructions, for operating as a
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. If you need to, just reread blogs of the past two
weeks time or since early in this month of January of 2013. It is all
there, and MO or WO, or no WOMO, ''I promise you that''!!!!!!!!! So
that I do not have to deal with a potential JANE FONDA CLOCK ATTACK
on a page eleven of eleven, on my open office word document 3.1
system, let me go now to another actual document, and begin as
BLOG-B, for this JWC2, DAY #30. Read on, enjoy, or puke, or whatever
you may wish to do, with or without anything said by the boy who now
is our great New Jersey Congressman, Robert Andrews. Happy hunting,
and happy trails, and yes, there were some chemtrails today, and yes,
just as with mother fucking 1995, the fucking cunt lapping
Hickey-Hockey Fonda Ling-Long season, is back and operational, so for
those out here that are praying folks, you are always permitted to
say one for me, to quote the great East Orange Aunt of Whitney, or
cousin, or again, 'whatever, sir', and may Patty Jane be damned,
psychic lines and all notwithstanding, Dion Warwick, and not the
great Everett Simpson Auto Sales of 1983, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY
2
YES,
STUDY IT ABOVE. NOT TRAVELERS, HTHS? OH SURE!
JWC2,
DAY-00028, BLOG-B
3:51
PM-EST, JANUARY 18TH (KARGE) – DAY AND (WEIRD) – DAY, AND I
THINK THE FIRST OF 'BOTH' OF THESE FUCKING ITEMS, ON THE NEW YEAR OF
TWENTY THIRTEEN, OR HOWEVER MISSES MAROLA AND HER SECRET TUNNELS ALL
OVER NEW JERSEY, WISH TO PERHAPS REPRONOUNCE ANYTHING SAID HEREIN, AS
WOW, THIS IS OFF THE SCALES, AND BIGGER THAN ANYTHING FROM TWO
FUCKING THOUSAND YEARS AGO. SO REALLY, WHAT IS IN A PRONUNCIATION,
MISTER SHAKESPEARE?
I
went out on a few shopping errands, depleting my residual cash supply
to about ten bucks; but I have all the things that I need, until the
third of February, unless all IF-HELL breaks
loose; which can always happen; as could a meteor strike on a 'KILL
ALL DINOSAUR'S LEVEL' of how many millions of years ago, Judge
Traveler Raso, and friends, and Dow Jones Industrial Averages, early
OH-9-BOTTOM-OUT??????????? Do I believe in any kind of coincidence?
Well, go ask James Newagefather Redfield, and then you will have my
answer. You really do need to get and read, every single book that
this great super fucking dude ever wrote, and I tell you this, friend
and enemy alike, out here, YO! Now you need to be told
more major shit, but before I do, here is my day so far. The crap was
out beyond my building today, the hologram persecution of my personal
interaction, to use my yesterday blogs older words of less wisdom, as
hay folks, I am always growing too, and every mother fucking ass
day; so take that to either my TD Bank, or any other frikkin bank on
this ugly, rotten, miserable ball, of solid
hurl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We will get into the huge topic of
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, NON MIND
'OTHER' TRAVELERS,
SPACE-TIME-MIND MECHANICS (STMM)
FOR SHORT, AND OF COURSE MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL, THE PICTURE-PUZZLES
EXAMPLE, I HAVE MADE ON PREVIOUS BLOGS; CONCERNING AND REGARDING,
REALITY-CHUNKS.
First,
since all of this will all perfectly mix and blend together, if you
have the mind of a normal thirteen year old, let me tell about my
day, and how my personal IF
attacked
me outside the confines of this Public
Housing Building,
and when I am all done, not today, but much later on, real honest to
god military personal from top star generals on down the line to the
foot soldiers, will really benefit from some of this material, out on
future battlefields; and you are kidding yourselves if you think that
global bloodshed is going to be declining, and not go the way of the
bloodiest century so far, the twentieth, right behind us; so you will
need these powerful truths, and I hope it can save some American
lives, because I am not against the poor order following, saluting,
field and foot personnel; unless it ever reached the Adolf
Hitler point,
where we all start hearing those old nightmare words again, “We
were just following orders, as we throw ten million innocent persons,
into a gas oven”, as that is pure and simple horse shit to any
rational person's mind. This will indeed all tie together, good
folks. You can believe that, so relax, get a cold drink; and read
on.
I
woke up around noon or just past, on this KARGE-DAY. I was literally
shocked out of bed, not remembering what you would call a ''powerful
vivid and lucid dream'', from just then as I jumped right out of bed,
but I totally knew with no doubt whatsoever in my mind, that this was
a totally forgotten dream, from the night before that, or really
somewhere in the morning, back on Thursday. It is now the eighteenth,
but you know that, 'KARGE-DAY', right? We don't ever forget her human
birthdays here, or I don't; despite it always
being HER sixteenth birthday,
out in Sahasra Dal Kanwal, and SHE always goes to her great party,
loaded with all of her friends and her VIQUEENS, just as the ''LOVE
IS FOR CARPENTERS'' song lyrics state, oh heart attack
yellow-sheet-2008, Copyright Examiner. W—O—W.
As
James Maverick Rockford Looseteeth, knows only too mother fucking
well here, good peeps;
WE CAN ALWAYS GET BACK TO THIS,
as this is 'eternity-stuff', and it's not going anywhere; with or
without this twisted and screwed up little 'PROPHET OF DANCING
MICKEY-DEE NOTHINGS'! Now I will tell you all about my day without
further interruptions, and then we will prove that indeed, WHAT I NOW
SAY ABOUT REALITY-CHUNKS, will be totally real and true truths, or
realities, literally; without any parlor tricks, puns, RGG intro
tapes, Doctor Doogie Howser 1984 Lab Tech other intro tapes, from
telephone conversations from old Bad Boy Mark, magical hyperlinks of
the http://www
CHAIN-LINK worlds of the real 'PC', no candles or Dark Shadows needed
here, or sore throats from anyone in the family, taking this a bit
too far, huh Roseann, no, I want to, but I'll spare you all another
'W' word here. You want real magic? It is not in Roseann's journals,
or any other cousin's journals; or other names for these things, or
anything else. You want to see real shit that can blow your mother
fucking mind from here to the planet Missleenails-88, stay right here
at MORIANITY-2,
YO YO YO!
Now
for anyone who does not want to get a powerful piece of shit rammed
right down your Roseann Delaney Howser of Atlantica Hyperspace of
magic schools, or coaches strange outlandish rooms that go into
building dimensions that just are not there physically, at least not
here on this level of the atomic frequency vibrational universe,
THROAT, where you will not need the CHEMTRAILS to make you feel bad,
and or raspy and sore, and lose three octaves off of the high end of
your voice, and have difficulty chasing or communicating with Irish
cats or Irish bands. Come on McNulty, you can yuk it up, just because
42 years has ticked by, YO, have a little laugh on both of us, pal;
before I chase you up the stairs and kick your dam ass, Captain
Kirkspock!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAA.
I
showed all of you a really cool and totally true example of taking a
thousand puzzles that all are the same exact picture when put
together, only cut differently into totally differing puzzle pieces,
each and every one of them. The big picture is not changed
whatsoever. It does not HAVE TO BE CHANGED, in order for a
manipulator, (traveler) to be able to alter smaller parts of the
sub-realities, within the bigger reality, totally covertly,
stealthfully; and with all the cunning of a veteran black-ops
agent!!!!!!!! Now I was getting horrible CHEMTRAILS here, after
waking up from something, that did not even happen in the STM
illusion of right now, and on this particular day, Friday; but was
back on Thursday, yesterday. But no chemtrail attack was there
yesterday. Only when the STM memories equalized into my illusion, or
put real simply, only when I actually remembered the dream; not when
I thought I had awakened from it, was I struck with siege; as
remember; the 'dreamworlds of
hyperspace', the
Astral-Plane,
and the waking life in one particular
universe of 4-D
space-time; does not in any way go together. It is in no way running
parallel or concurrent or opposite or in some coded rhythm, or
anything else; and there is absolutely zero connection in some arena
somewhere, one to another. This is why death and life will be
eternally misunderstood, and will only be grasped, and humanly
conquered; when the collective
consciousness of humanity really is able to GET ALL THIS,
that is being said on MORIANITY.
So all of this being said, we now really need to get down to cases
and talk plain English about how 'travelers' manipulate
reality-chunks, while still being able to maintain an overall
seemingly benign and zero effect on the larger picture of the reality
that was messed with. Before I go on, the stock market has closed, is
nearly up to 14 thousand points, and has only been down about two
business days now for the three business weeks of this month and year
of 2013, AND ALL, JUST AS I TOLD YOU WOULD HAPPEN, AND TOTALLY COME
TO PASS; RIGHT MY BEAUTIFUL, AWESOME, AND POWERFUL, NINETIES
NIGHT LADY; ''GIANT GINA''????????
Now let me wear out my blog-clutch some more, and switch back into
gear, and return to where the topic was earlier, as right now, it's
nine of the fucking clock this Friday night, as I come to the end of
another very miserable rotten week. UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, just as
long as this evil WOMO-MILITUFORCE HAS ME TO ENDLESSLY RELENTLESSLY
MOTHER FUCKING HARASS AND PERSECUTE, the markets will never stop
their gaining at my cunt lapping expense!!!!!!! Still, and that poor
clutch is really getting a fucking ass work out today, Michelle
Daniels and family; my crashed roulette system, has indeed come back,
and allowed me to still keep making more units that I am losing. It
is quite miraculous, and if normal folks who are not being totally
viciously assaulted by invisible forces, or the IF, were using this
roulette system; they'd
be making five times
as many units as I am making, as persecution and endless siege,
destroys a persons ''magnetics'' or agreement with life, in all
possible areas, hence their entire life is destroyed, and luck is
always seemingly rotten and horrible! Grind, grind, shift, clutch, OH
SHIT;
let us return now to the topic of 'REALITY-CHUNKS', and the many
powerful tricks of the great washcloth family from my 1970 Ventnor,
New Jersey, 'nightmares'; right, you child molester, Thomas J.
Reale, of Somers Point, New Jersey; you soulless, no conscience,
fucking bastard???????????????????????????????????
We
have learned, speaking now in very simple plain English wordage, that
the last part of our nocturnal time each day, is when all of the
experienced ''DREAMERS'', practice the reshaping of alternate
parallel realities. The conscious mind only can handle one, and we
tend to think of that one, as the normal waking world reality.
Hyperspace is the fifth dimension, a realm containing all of the
realities or parallel universes to the one that our awake and
conscious mind is interacting with. Still, these nearly limitless
locales of mind-energy, converted to interaction; all exist and all
are equally real. So they use the final hour or two of their
dream-life each day, to wake up; and then go back to sleep in a dream
recreation; literally thinking how they want something to be and or,
turn out; and it is something that never can be done in the initial
first parts of slumber, for reasons too complex to be discussed at
this point. When you go into 'close-in' or localized
hyperspace, or other
parallel reality, where things are quite similar, but not totally the
same as here in waking life; then you can make these changes in this
manner, and eventually; the system operates in a way, that might be
thought of as holding two magnets close enough together, so that you
can barely feel them trying to come together. They will remain apart,
with only that small tugging force; unless the distance between them
is eliminated more and more; and messing
with hyperspace and dreaming,
is very similar to this. The more you make changes in close in
reality, the more you eliminate a
fifth dimensional distance,
that keeps the waking world, from being more like the parallel
worlds, where you are 'dream-controlling' in; since distance, is
measured in this case, as a fifth dimensional distance; and this is
all way too complicated to discuss on any blogs ever, really; but
take my word that this is true, or ask any 'TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON',
as they know. Naturally, they are not going to tell you, and this is
what the PROJECT BLUEBOOK IS ALL ABOUT, ALL OF IT. THIS IS THE ENTIRE
SECRET, as inside this, is everything; from the aliens to their
flying vessels; and to anything else one might ever be able to ponder
or imagine in their wildest mood of soul. This also should hopefully
bring your mind back to my picture-puzzles example, and allow you to
see a little bit clearer, what is being done. But remember, that
these advanced entities doing all these things, are seeing it as
nothing more than a huge fucking GAME,
and the reason it is played, is to cause an endless distraction, away
from the most horrible thing imaginable, once understood properly and
rationally; and the human race in 2013, is not even close to that
point yet; and I am speaking of ENDLESSNESS,
or eternal existence, or even a shorter word for that it;
H---E---L---L!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the gears will switch on a new paragraph, nice and clean, clutch in,
and here we go, New and Old kids here in town. I got up and
immediately saw a major chemtrail assault outside my window to the
north, and within an hour or so, it was covered up in drizzly
overcast, so HA-HA-HA. Still, the IF got its evil way, and got
another huge stock market gain, every point up is a major blow to the
freedom and the rights of all of us ''LITTLE
99ERS'', and so
where is 'OCCUPY WALL STREET' these days, when we really mother
fucking ass need them, I am left to wonder, folks???????? I went out
for a few items, stopping in three stores for a few dollars worth of
necessary small items in each one. This was the worst attack on me
OUTSIDE, in YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I took a MAJOR
INVISIBILITY-HOSTILITY IFOGRAM,
AS WELL AS A MAJOR, AND BEYOND ABSURD, GIANT GARGANTUAN PUSSYGRAM,
and people were tremendously hostile and unfriendly; and I never saw
literally dozens and dozens of giant sluts all over the place,
between six feet and six feet six inches in flat shoes, and I AM most
certainly 'NOT', cunt lapping exaggerating with this report, folks. I
have not seen anything like this in my entire life, and the only way
the INTERACTION FORCE or the fucking ''IF'', can pull that off, is to
effect major parts of the reality,
and time, and minds,
of both myself; and any and all peeps, within the range of the
'hologram' as I used to term it; and so now, I will be altering this
word from either hologram or type of hologram, to the new term of,
IFOGRAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't create all this fucking cunt horrible shit people. No I just
report the shit all around me, that's going fucking on, since I was a
boy when all this fucking ass shit got started; seemingly ever since
I met SARAH on 10-SC AVENUE,
in Atlantic fucked up City, Blew Turdsey, back in late June of
1965!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
entity may be playing her endless teen games with me, but from my
mother fucking pathetic vantage point, and perspective; as my
personal life as MARK
WAYNE MOHR;
this
being means me no good at all,
not one bit, not at all!!!
FUCK
THE WORLD, FUCK EVERYBODY, & FUCK THE GOD DAM
''IF''!!!!!!!!!!!!MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00026, BLOG-C
10:47
PM-EST, LATE WEDNESDAY EVENING FOLKS:
OK,
time to discuss the item that I said I would be doing, you remember,
about CHAINS AND LOOPS AND SKIES THAT GLOW, PAINTED LINES THAT NEVER
GO, LA MISTS ARE HERE, 'ME SURE', DAM SURE, AND SAY 'LEVY', AND VIVA
LA FRANCE TO YOU TOO, JIMMY STUART, AND ANTOINETTE RABIL. Oh and
yes, the assholes across from me got quiet.
WOW
peeps, this will be a short beauty of a blog, no tweet mind you, but
then Mister Elmer Fudd, no treat either, YO!!!
Let's
begin this long project, with its foundation; and then merely a
slight add on for tonight, to this opening foundation and just enough
to whet your appetites for a lot more. Shit, hopefully, oh I did not
say it right Katie Queen? I feel that compunction to prove that
NOTHING gets past my sweet old
ugly little ass, so in corrected reiteration folks, YO YO YO, OH
SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now that that is 'oudda' the way, I will just say, WHAAAAAAAABIT,
ELMER!
Chains
and loops and skies that glow, painted lines that come and go, oh
'shit' the mists are here; and they are in France, and for that
frikkin matter peeps, they're all over da'woyald,
whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Let
us forget about 'NOTHING PROPHETS', 1988, or how I altered the flow
of the entire interest, that people seem to have, ever since these
days; of the childhood lives, of their favorite celebrities; and just
move onto one part of this magic for now; on this late ass Wednesday
night, here in good old warm Fort Pierce, Florida-USA-ES-MWG,
YO!!!!!!!!! I speak here of chains, which are MADE UP OF MANY MANY
INTERCONNECTING 'LINKS'. There
may be very diabolical reasons why folks did not ever want to use any
of my posted blog LINKS to YOUTUBE sites, as before; when I could
post the old way; and
before 'GOOGLE' made it
impossible to post the actual YOUTUBE photo of projects
onto BLOGGER, as THEY OWN ALL THESE SYSTEMS FOLKS; and for all
practical purposes, they own all of us too, everybody; and if you're
to stupid, or blind, to see this; that is on you, not me. I know the
dam truth, but let us not get caught up in all this crap, and just
move this right along at 11:04 PM now, but yes; before they made that
old carny switcheroo, WOW, I did get a few hits on my
music sites. But once I had to just post LINKS,
somehow ALL MIGHTY GOOGLE KNEW,
that this would stop me dead on in my
tracks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, it DID, and without any
1986 songs, that I do regret; and is too late now, to ever take back.
Did you say a 'wonderful life', Jimmy Hyperspace??? W----O----W!!!!!
Splain that one, Ricky!
LINKS
are also parts of those 'reality chunks', that keep the conscious
mind forbidden from ever waking the hyperspace population, (US) up,
from the Astral-Truths. 'Kallio Power' or not, great ''ECKANKAR'';
and remembering the one long space-time-mind
transdimensional huge personality, that we have
unconsciously, as this forces us to save all of that, for
'dream-land', YO YO YO!!!!!!!!! If these links were consciously
chained all together, it would not just be SS Jehovah K, that carries
the hellish truth of endless existence. SHE is even willing to trade
places with our awareness to this, while we exist in bliss times a
peta peta peta, in HER great city; the capitol
of the Province of Olympia, which also is the capitol
province of the entire PHASE-2 or ASTRAL-REALM;
and the name of this city, is SAHASRA DAL
KANWAL, just in case anyone besides the ECKISTS are
interested. Yes indeed, ignorance to that truth, is indeed, BLISS,
or heaven!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
it is time to tell about internet links,
you know, the famous hyper-text transfer protocol of the
world-wide-web, or the http://www which
quite magically, just from typing this on a word document, and on a
computer that isn't even connected to any live internet source;
instantly underlines, and turns color, as you finish; and then type
on; but that is only where this begins. Blog
Day 27, Part A, will go on to tell a few real wild
stories, and perhaps the younger and more knowledgeable computer
geeks understand what I will be telling; but I for sure, am in the
dark with all of this; and it is all right up there with the glowing
skies and the magic 1969 chains and dreams and reality alterations
from learning how to control transdimensional reality, and be a
DREAMER, or in time, a full
blown, TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON (EXPN)
for short.
MORIANITY-
2
JWC2,
DAY 00027, BLOG-A
Thursday,
January 17, 2013, at 1:32 PM-EST:
Things
are not as bad as the last two days, yet; with my fucking jerk off
nabes. They are always here, they never go away, and they always make
noise. For a short time, they were a lot better, around a week, but
just as I said, that would rapidly change. They never remain good,
and how can you expect them to, when they are thugs, lowlife bottom
feeders, total trash, and influenced by my daughter's 'IF'. If I had
any fucking ass doubts before yesterday about that, or even that both
Extreme Fighter, David Bacon; and his good pal and rapper, Darius
Evans, AKA Deezy Slim; all were not a major part of my daughter's
'IF'; well, yesterday totally dispelled those doubts, once and
fucking for all, folks, YO! But let us move right along now, and
discuss that newest post I put on the Google Youtube, and that will,
along with all other stuff on my account there, as well as Facebook;
all come down, on Monday,
KING DAY,
very very very apropos, right lovely teen queen Ingrid of early 1984;
while I was residing at 506 Thief-In-Hell (Robin Hill) Apartments, in
'Voorhees' Township, not on a 'lark', in New Jersey, peeps!
One
of my posts that was done just this year, somewhere after the new
year rang in, has been 'magic-linked'.
Maybe this is some recognizable hack, and maybe not even great top
black-hat cracker hackers will know what I'm about to tell here, all
though I find that hardly a credible possibility to entertain; but
let me tell it to all of you. I added, as I did quite frequently, the
hyperlink, or today I believe they just call it the LINK, the YOUTUBE
link numbers, to the song, “You'll Be Crossing Over', onto this
blog, and even when removed, some part of the ghost worm of what this
link did to me, is still active on these pages. If you try and edit
or make any change at all to the blog, small little fix up things
like a corrected punctuation, or a left out letter such as 'an' being
needed to have the 'D' letter added to it, to make it become the word
'AND', but whatever the case may be; the second that I took the
mouse, to anywhere on that blog; the screen showed the link address,
and if you made a change, the entire print of many parts of the blog,
all turned blue and became underlined. Also, it was totally
irreparable, and no amount of messing with it and correcting it,
would make the crap stop; only taking the entire blog that was inside
a compilation of about five blogs, deleting the entire thing out, and
re-pasting the original blog, back into the ruined compilation blog;
restored the blog to its normal pages. So I made the corrections I
wanted to make on the original blog before pasting it into the
compilation, and was sure to take out and delete, all of the song and
its YOUTUBE LINK, and even with that, the second you place the mouse
over most parts of the blog, again the screen is showing the LINK
ADDRESS with the instruction to click this and do that to go to that
link. This all leads me to wonder a bit belatedly right about now, if
many hacks are not LINK-HACKS, after-all, we are all warned
continually on the news, not to open this type of e-mail, or do this
or that on our computers, so there may very well be something going
on, and this may also be why nobody ever was willing to go to these
YOUTUBE LINKS to view anything that I posted up, including my own
musical stuff. I don't know, and am merely taking lots of stabs in
the dark, OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now CHAINS
are made up of many inter-looping LINKS.
And this 1983 redone song, “YBCO”, from YOUTUBE, that Dennis
helped me post over here at my place, back on 12-18-2012; was linked
to my blogs, so that a viewer of the blogs could just click, and be
right there at the YOUTUBE and right there at the song, and then a
backspace keyboard hit, or a mouse click on the back-arrow upper left
side of the computer monitor; and you are right back at the blog
again, and at the very exact spot where you left. Yet nobody was ever
willing to use these 'LINKS', and this makes me take both this fact
of nobody ever using them, along with the problem that the link
caused me on my own open-office word document system, and I'll admit
that as far as detailed answers to this hack or whatever, or worry
and concern on the part of my viewers to my blogs, I am left with a
big fat flabby zero, no answers; just a hell of a lot of questions,
that hopefully, GAWKY
GAUKAUK
can answer for me, if I pose enough properly phrased questions to
him, and then compare 'PCN questions' with 'PCN potential answers',
looking for those that are both compatible, as well as
non-compatible. Here we are again, Jenny Plageman. So take another
big snort for the both of us, you old drunkard. Yes folks, the lyrics
to the old 1997 song, “Don't Hide, You Can't Hide”, from where
“NINA” sprang up some time later, on Dave Roth's weird sudden
inspiration to write a song for her and the memory of the Quoddy
Gang of Atlantic City
back in the 60's; but these lyrics were all from the song that I had
an entire Mickey-Dee dancing to, back in 1988, at a drive through
window one day, along with David Roth. Also, these original tapes
that played in my car stereo, came from the song, copyrighted in
1988, called, ''PROPHET
OF NOTHING''.
I can just hear about a trillion people saying right about now, so
who gives a shit? Well, one person that both Las Vegas friend, Steve
Wynn, and myself; totally know would be shouting those words the
loudest; and yes that would be the one and only, marvelous, terrific,
wonderful, and awesome, mirror kissing king himself, the
quintessential egotist, and self lover; Mister Donald J.B. Trump! He
for sure would not give a shit, and even said so! I miss you and your
wonderful casinos, buddy, like a dull dentist drill, and a twenty
year straight appointment. Should I dare to type the word that only
Scylla can say so perfectly, oh yes, let's be brave and bold here,
W---O----W.
But as for the rest of the song lyrics that all began from the 1988
nothing prophet, or me; well peeps; maybe I had a restaurant dancing
around that day, but all I really want is to find out who has
destroyed 58+ years of my life, and prosecute them all to the fullest
dam possible extent of the law. DJT, and many others; are by no
means innocent bystanders in all of this; and they are arrogant
enough to remain calm believers, that they will live and die, without
ever being touched by me. So weather or no weather, and whether or
not this is all funny or not, please be advised, folks; you are all
entitled to that opinion that you will go on endlessly getting away
with murdering my entire life. I refuse to give up, and I WILL bring
the guilty bastards to justice, if it takes me two million fucking
years!
MORIANITY
2
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00024, BLOG-A
Quarter
past one in the morning here at Fort Pierce, Florida.
Except
for the first forty minutes or so that woke me up this morning, this
place has been nice and quiet, just the way that I like it, a huh, a
huh, with or without Donna Summer, Jason Forrest, or disco dance
clubs of the seventies, YO!
I
will soon be typing in, as promised, my mother's entire writing from
1977, of her personal failed office romance story, leading to her
near death experience in 1976. Also, I will be telling many powerful
and secret things.
For
starters, there indeed is a man living in this building who had his
entire computer hard drive, burned up or out, or whatever they call
it when someone with wireless internet, and no password protection;
gets hacked into by all sorts of unscrupulous folks, anyone from
drivers' by the building, to near area residents in houses, to nabes
right here in the building; trying to use his internet illegally; to
allow their cellphone, tablets, computers, laptops, or whatever; to
gain access to the internet. Now folks there is this fellow, and as
mentioned in an earlier blog, there also is a man who does the
graveyard security here at this building; who used to work at DELL
COMPUTERS, imagine that, SIR MICHAEL! One may even be left to
ponder on the remote possibility of whether or not he may be the
archangel. Scriptures put it how exactly? Be kind to strangers, you
may be entertaining angels. Oh well, it is something like this, give
or take a word here or there, BRAH.
Folks,
the entire world has been changed, not once, not twice, not a hundred
times, but about eighty two quintillion times now, give or take a
half quadrillion. This is not meant to be funny, it's not a coded
poem from my taped life journal of the past, and now wiped out, via
many stealthy, clever, and all the mighty impersonating Kings,
Queens, and other magnetic fields of unknown and strange mystical
origins; and certainly, be advised, EW, © Office, and any and all
legal professionals, that this may, or may not concern, oh great
recent times prophet of anything but nothing, Mister Orwell, and
certainly last but in on way or means least, does any of it reflect
intentional misinformation or disinformation, despite cleaver cute
comments made to the contrary from just over thirty-six months ago,
Mister Genlow Interrogator Daugherty. Am I being honest about all of
that, oh great transdimensional surfer buddy, from the great cliffs,
and carried away surf boards, of the middle twenty-oh-oh-ohs? So all
of you out here in the ''Black-File-Agency-Club'', what are you all
up to today, eighty-five days from now when you receive this, or
before, if I decide to start posting these blogs via zip drive &
public library access? Maybe for short, we can just start saying,
'BEEFAC', on and after this date of the fourteenth day in January, of
twenty-thirteen. Yes the man at my door had a good reason to ask me
questions, but since we both have reasons to be paranoid, nothing was
resolved between us. I left word that if he ever wants to talk to me,
I am available. I feel that Misses Marola back in 1969 was totally
correct, in the one area of her statement to me, regarding and
concerning the 'majority rule' and 'right idea', as discussed in many
of my previous blogs, of many years now. I never will disagree with
her on the fact that indeed, there is power in numbers, and I am
definitely looking FOR 'ARMY'
right now, and all of it that I can get. Still, so much leaves me
pondering and head scratching. Things like just exactly what the
great all mighty OTAMM RUN PAWM-PIE-ETTOS
really does in many cases, because unless as I firmly believe, that
all things under heaven and Earth, is just one huge game for some
teenage girl's amusement, much of this would go so totally against
any rational logical argument for the expenditure of energy to stop
me at POINT-A, with so much vigorous fury, and ferocious
tenaciousness; when it knows totally well, it is equally capable of
stopping me at POINTS-B, C, D, E, and so on, even if by rare
occasion, I slip by its cosmic sanctions at POINT-A. Readers, don't
dismiss this little wild sounding philosophical discussion too
easily, and with a scoffing laugh; as someday soon, I will be in
total shock if many more of the public who presently is not under
this problem that I am, will indeed begin to experience many of the
problems and symptoms of what I've been calling, the Huntington
Curse, especially after my physical death; as some others
will need to replace me fast, in order to keep their global economic
system operating at all; and laugh all you want to now folks, but
when this cosmic tidal wave does strike many of you and your
offspring a generation out, you will perhaps remember me, and my
blogs. But don't be too shocked or dismayed, if the all mighty GOOGLE
does not vanish them all out of existence, just as did Sally Starr,
Paul Pedersen, Billy Harner, and others; and they all know what they
did to me, and they all know they are total miserable soulless
bastard jerk offs; and they know a day will come, when they will
face their fucking maker, and yes, be called on this issue, and be
expected to answer, and to give a full account, and no; bullshit and
cop-outs won't work at the judgment throne, if you will let me use
your own cave-day age words, from ancient biblical texts, that have
stood the test of time for a very very long
time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have dozens of long stories to get
into, and will do so at other times. It is now time for me to crash
and burn out of here for a while, and hopefully with little waking
recall later.
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00024, BLOG-B
Well,
as for the waking recall, this went as I hoped for the most part, and
the small thing that did not go that way is a bit too personal for
blogging. Take jumping off of a skyscraper and picking your nose on
the way down with one hand, and with the other hand, scratching
inside of your asshole; and then multiply that kind of totally
unfathomable weird nonsense by about a dozen ways back from Sunday,
and that would be my short memory-track; but beyond that; PTL, my
conscious mind has fully suppressed the memory.
As
for today, it is now twenty minutes shy of seven in the evening. It
is a warm and extra mild Monday evening here in FPFL-USA-ES-MWG, and
all was very quiet. I think the entire day was nothing more than
three or four very quiet doors closing, and that was it. I woke up
around half past eleven in the morning, and spent the day enjoying
television, “Law & Order”, and “The Mentalist”.
The
dirt ball EVIL EMPIRE
has won about six business days straight now, with UP DAYS, on their
diseased DOW JONES markets. Why not, I have no internet, and cannot
blog post these writings up to the public system? I am completely
and totally off grid and isolated, even though the net was by no
means any real solution to my large life problem, that I've labeled
without hesitation, MY HUNTINGTON FAMILY CURSE, first thought of by
James T. Burr; only he used an alternate word, 'influence', in lieu
of the word 'curse'. Why, I don't know, and merely am reporting the
historical facts, not creating them, as the travelers do, Mister
LATE, and ''TOO-LATE'', Gene Rotten-Berry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes folks,
for going on two weeks now, their controlled and ICPE fixed crooked
stock markets have gained without exception, day after day, nearly at
ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, and JUST AS I TOLD YOU, lovely GIANT
GINA, from 1998!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But there is absolutely nothing I can do about any of this, Katie
Queen of 1997, is there, old pal Clarence Harris, 1998 Assistant to
Congressman RA, of NJ??????????????????????????????
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00025, BLOG-A
1:38
AM-EST, 01/15/2013
I
cannot even begin to get into all the things I really need to record
for the record, my record, if nothing else, ever, at all.
I
will give a brief list of what will be said, and it matters very
little to me, who believes what, if any of these words; because I
know that to the best of my knowledge and ability to rationally
think, they are indeed words of total truth; and I know that those
mostly against me, out of the army of OTAMMIC enemies, that I've had
at least as far back as the late 1960's, also knows; that these words
speak only the truth, again; to the best of my ability to recollect
memories, analyze voluminous amounts of data that only corporations
would normally involve themselves with, as opposed to individual
persons. First off, no one has a universal answer that fits all of
the personal locks, of each of the unique beingness-entities, who in
separateness, here in 5th dimensional hyperspace that all
of us humans are. However, there is a powerful truth that has gone
unknown since the beginning of thinking non-animal beings came on
this Planet Earth; and through unfathomable miraculous events that
all surrounded my life as the person who I appear to physically be
since 9:30 AM, December 4, 1954; I have one large chunk of a reality,
that is just not known or understood, by any single group, or
individual, anywhere; as of 2013, in this parallel universe in
hyperspace where I am awake and living and typing these words.
Whether things remain endlessly, where I was meant to be the only one
with this piece of gargantuan knowledge and wisdom, is anyone's best
guess, and my best guess, would be no better, and no worse, than your
best guess. What I know, does not bring me some mystical total
omniscience regarding all things, but rather, it explains how all
things are perceived in a very magical reverse order, and this would
quite naturally keep anyone for so many thousands of years now, from
breaking the 'reality code' of everything, so to speak. Again and in
reiteration, breaking this code shows one powerful and all
encompassing truth, but it does not create little demigods who
suddenly gain absolute power over any of the smaller pictures that
co-inhabit together, inside of the larger one.
Here
are some real nut-shell quickie things, that each item mentioned,
will indeed require nearly full blogs in and of themselves; to ever
so much as attempt to do these topics and truths, any real meaningful
justice, for humanity, or whatever may eventually come to exist on
this Earth Planet in 4th
and 5th
dimensional SPACE-TIME-MIND (STM). Let me totally compress a list
that indeed, will eventually, all be taken far deeper and further, as
well as elucidated on later, should I as MWM, continue to exist in
this form, and in this world, for any length of time, past 2013.
Item
1, is the strange reality, fifth dimensionally, yes I admit to that,
but as the Native Shaman Masters
who originally ruled over the greater 48 state continent, that now is
96% of the United States of America, not counting territories; but
yes, it is this strange locker room,
that belongs to whoever the sports coach was, and maybe still is, at
the Cooley Hall Building, of the once
known Bancroft School, on Hopkins
Lane, in Haddonfield,
New Jersey;
and this locker room extending beyond the office part where a normal
door opens out into the school gymnasium; only this locker area has
another sliding wall, hidden well; that takes this locker area all
the way across what should be the normal dimensions of the school
building hallway, and directly into the office of the husband of an
educator, a man I only know as the elusive non Butterfly dude, by the
name of Mister Marola. Now the details to this man and his wife,
range from weird on a BLUBOOK PROJECT following the Second War War,
all the way to, if fully exposed and known about, would collapse the
entire global economic, religious, and social power structures, from
one ocean to the next, covering every island, continent, and speck
spot from high in the sky to the depths of the seas. I was given a
powerful connection with this magical place, in many universes, in
waking life, here in this one universe, as well as other parallel
realities that the subconscious mind tunes to, whenever any of us do
what has been known for the life of humankind on Earth, which is
called, 'sleeping'. Those like myself, and ancient Native American
Shamans, all know various parts of these truths, while the incredible
vast majority live and die and go through life, 100% clueless, and
robbed completely out of two fifths of their real honest personal
life, insisting on life as a three dimensional interaction, as
opposed to its true five dimensionality.
Item
2, is the home that I was renting from the mob, the Crissafulli
family, in Blackwood, New Jersey, in late 1977 through late 1978,
before making my first of three moves, into a further west location,
known in New Jersey's Monroe Township, Gloucester County, as
Williamstown, with or without yellow telephones, strange bridges, or
dog-food. This was sort of like my Cifaloglio Residence. Instead of
being up there in the future by thirty freaking years, at Cifaloglio
where I was employed as contract security for 24 hours per week, this
was an actual residence where I lived, but both these places were
absolutely major, for my having often recurring non induced ASTRAL
PROJECTIONS. Items 3 and 4 and 5
with zero explanation for right now, would include many experiences
in Atlantic City over a 45 year period, my RPL Sound Studio
employment experience, going from the end of July in 1979 through the
eleventh of March, in 1981, and my soon to follow this, Atco, New
Jersey experience with the PRIVECODE MACHINE, the mysterious ILLNESS
that befell me, and is still with me to this very day, nearly 30
years in the future from its on sought; on the night of June 4, in
the year of 1983, my inventing and using the original small
model MAGNESONIC machine, and my
direct communications, with the LIGHTNING
GODDESS
DIANA, who
after the end of the twenty-ohs, I came to learn is part of a Spanish
Trinidad, of spiritual type of purest energy, the third part of this
Trinidad, non-Spanish translation being ''trinity'', but in any case,
from the great GODDESS SCYLLA
JEHOVAH HERSELF, ''Mother, Daughter,
Spirit-Electron''. The male dominated
power structure of the times, when many things of giant religious
event, were playing out; naturally, altered this, to a male dominant
godhead, changing this into FATHER,
SON, HOLY SPIRIT or GHOST. When I
was new to doing these blogs, the first half of my seven year
blogging career, and perhaps then some time after that, I was totally
frikkin clueless to the Trinidad Hotel,
as a point of entry, for All Mighty Scylla, yet in 1997, I
experienced a very powerful hyperspace experience with HER, where SHE
had beaten up the Hotel Manager, Nina Soifer's father, Al; until he
could no longer take the beating, and gave in, and gave Her my old
address from the days that my mother and I stayed at this vacation
resort hotel, twice each summer, for four straight summers, from
1965-1968 inclusive, totaling eight vacation stays at this 'portal
place'.
Now
allow me to frikkin compensate for page eleven of frikkin eleven, as
I've been seeing ones on screens and clocks and all over the dam ass
place for some time now, it is really on a god dam roll, my friends
and my fiends. 5555555555555555555555555555 plus 55555555555, times
555555555555555555555, divided by 55555555555; is equal to, I
DO NOT GIVE SIX AND A THIRD DOG SHITS,
BUT I DO NEED TO STARE AT THESE LOVELY FIVES, AFTER WHAT DIRT BALL
JANE DID TO ME, ON THAT HORRIFIC NIGHT, AT THE ATLANTA, GEORGIA,
BASEBALL PARK; WITH THE ZOOMING IN OF THAT LARGE CLOCK
ATTACK, WITH FOUR HUGE DIGITAL ONES, RIGHT IN MY FACE, AND ALL ZOOMED
FUCKING CUNT INTO MY TELEVISION
SCREEN, THE FINAL STRAW, AND OF
COURSE; THE PHILLIES, AS A RESULT OF THIS FINAL PARALLEL EVENT, AND
'APE' ATTACK ON ME; LOST THE GAME,
BACK IN MOTHER FUCKING 1993, AND
I WILL NOT REST UNTIL I PISS ON YOUR GRAVE, JANE, YOU ROTTEN OLD
MISERABLE WHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Folks,
I'll keep us moving on these topics for now, as blogs keep marching
right along. Later on, maybe in a year or so, I'll make my B-LIST of
five other mother fucking monstrous deplorable things done to me by
some kind of BLUEBOOK
FORCES, that nobody including any
of the WORLD AIR FORCES have any real clue about, but for tonight,
this is my A-LIST; and this is what will be expanded and elucidated
upon, in many many fucking ass upcoming blogs throughout most of the
year of 2013, and these five A-LIST items, will have tentacles that
stretch into dozens, if not hundreds of interrelated topics, that
blog by blog; I promise to get into, and try as best as I possibly
can, to keep it simple and readable. Much like the great parables of
my great direct ancestor were done, the SAR, Jesus, the Messiah, I'll
attempt to copy this style. For the non Catholic, and non-learned
amongst the readership, ''SAR'' is the ancient word for ''LORD'', and
''ESS'' is the ancient word for ''AH'', 'Sarah'.
My
nabes were out in the hall talking and making a tiny bit of noise
this past evening in the final three hours of yesterday, but I can
tolerate them when they do not act totally ass crazy with long
shouting matches, and long continuous door slams. Debbie has really
helped me out with this, and her credibility with me, has risen back
up to a good status, just for the record, and officially for the
posted entry of MORIANITY. For right now, it is my bed-time, and a
quarter shy of three in the morning; so nighty-night folks, and yes
sir, muscles Arnie, I'll most definitely be
BAHHCK. See you around the galaxy, Miss Hicks, and still,
no thank you letter from arrogant Mister Ego Shitner, WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00025, BLOG-B
1:08
POST MERIDIAN, EASTERN STANDARD TIME
MARK
WAYNE MOHR © URLS, 2006-2013
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA-ES-MILKY WAY GALAXY (MWG)
Well
folks, I woke around half past ten, and except for a few quiet doors,
all is quite nice and quiet up in here on floor number six, at the
west side of this great 601-PH Building, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
went out late in the morning for an hour or so, to do some errands
such as put eight dollars of regular gasoline into my vehicle, get
some medical prescriptions filled at WALGREEN PHARMACY, and purchase
a few small other items, that all totaled up; was around ten dollars,
and leaving me now with about a third of a tank of gasoline, and
forty-five spendable dollars, until the third of February; just
enough, by the skin of the teeth; and then I will be a little better
off for a while.
It
is very warm. The past four days are about 80 degrees in the
afternoons until around four or just shy thereof, and then it drops
as much as ten or fifteen degrees by midnight, and the cycle starts
all over again, so here we go, Steve Marcus, and Steve McGinty, of
1977 and 1997, whether you dudes want to hear from this new kid in
town, OR NOT, BRAH!!!!!!!
The
skies are quiet, the ground is quiet, the hood is quiet. This is not
a normal situation for me, but then Sir Hourglass McDonald, with or
without any great poker hands, ''I'M FRIKKIN LOVIN IT'', and so is
David Roth, back in time, YO!
Folks,
it's now a few minutes shy of five and about to switch over from
afternoon, into evening, here in the Eastern Time Zone, and along the
Atlantic Coast of America; and here deep in the Dixie-Land South, ol'
grand dad Leonard John Mason, from up north in Philly-57, and back in
time coming up on about 100 years now. Where does it all go, my
lovely Grace Messenger, of Cooper River Park? Yes, that was me,
playing with you, that day in 1984, on the telephone, from highland
Avenue, son Brad. Yes, I had a lot of very wild and outlandish
electronic machinery and technology, even back then, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, I haven't seen gorgeous Roseann Delaney since
that night in the bushes outside your apartment rear entrance steps,
when she nearly bit off my head. I think my lovely daughter still
thinks this is all funny, Brad old pal, but then; she can laugh at
what happened in that house with those stairs, when she was a
toddler; and that blows my mind a lot further than Russell and I
could ever blow the mind of Sir Von Richard Marcucci, a few months
later in the autumn time of good old frikkin 1969!!! WOW
and this is only going to be an opener, folks.
Jumping
Moses Hotbush, why can't the ignorant human race see the biblical
powerful truth staring the planet in the face like a fast approaching
giant meteorite? It answers all of the biblical shit, and is so
monstrous, that words fail even motor mouth 'Mountainpen', and that's
an impressive reality, my son, Dennis Snyder, YO. The ''ANTICHRIST''
has a name that implies a very impressive gargantuan number, and yes,
if there is one owner, then this can mask the real truth, but the
real truth is that lots of biblical prophetic warnings are incredibly
symbolic, such as huge birds, with gigantic black eyes, and wings
that sound like many chariots; an obvious attempt of a first century
man, who is doing his very best to describe an object now known and
called, the HELICOPTER. The ANTICHIRST, or false
prophet posing as a great problem
solver, helper, source
of one total world information,
and controller of sales items.
It fits like a fucking glove about as smoothly as anyone could
possibly ever imagine, YO. The antichrist has a name, and it is way
beyond Hitler, and other past names, that scared the planet, and its
inhabitants, so well. It's name is obvious to any thinking person of
any type of similar to Christian faith and belief systems, and every
Christian has been fooled, except the one who really knows the truth,
me, yes, it has a name, it is Sir
GOOGLE.
But
there is a lot more going on than me just telling you this tiny tid
bit scrap piece of tantalizing and titillating major information
today, or really, in your STM, when I post this up for you; and this
will not be today, or tomorrow; but when the next incredible siege
looms its ugly face, and begins staring me down, as it always does,
every time, sooner or later; ever since August
the fifteenth, in nineteen eighty six, when this all
began, so yes, new kids, or old kids, of cities, country sides, or
towns, “HERE WE GO AGAIN”, so hear it, with or without a bullhorn
in your dam ear, Steve Marcus and Steve McGinty, YO! Let's do it
again, as it is so apropos. WOW!
Say
what, GEORGE JEFFERSON???????????????? YO DUDE, I SAID,
WOW
LIKE, DUHHHHHH!!!!!!
Want
even more wild information, well, MORIANITY-2 is full of it, my
friend, Detective Fontanna, so train wrecks and bent rail crossings
all notwithstanding, here we go, in or out of copyrighted regular
time, right examiners, WEEEE??????
We
will be talking about David and Sarah Karge, Victoria Callio and
Thomas Reale, and who can forget after seven + years of blogging,
Mister Jason Forrest, the great 'Trinity' Hotel on 'CALL
TEN' AT&T Avenue, in
Atlantic
City, New Jersey;
but there is so much more, and it all ties in with the destruction of
my life, and my education; as well as how the time
travelers are full of
educators, and many other fields in the arts and sciences. These are
the three groups in control of it where it is being used and from
where it was, or maybe I need to say, where it WILL
BE,
invented!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If anyone wants real proof of forbidden
hyper natural things on this planet, I will share them all with you,
for what has been done to me for almost sixty mother fucking years
now. It has causing me nightmares, agony, tears, and excruciating
dam fucking pain, basically 24-7-365.2422!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll show you where active worm holes are located, and times when
they get HOT, and I will show you where transdimensional photography
is happening all by itself, and much more; but for right now, know
this. You have messed with the wrong cock sucking person,
MILITUFORCE-OTAMM, YO YO YO!!!!!!!
This
blog will be brought to an end, and a new one will begin later on,
either today or at another time and date, or who knows, Donna, maybe
even place, but then, you know, you are all ready there causing a lot
of this, and won't accept my apology. Oh well, I have unforgiving
kids as well, so I guess I am just destined to be one of the
suffering folks under the HUNTINGTON
CURSE, right oh
wise one, Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald, of Babylon, New York, 1972,
at 175 Peninsula Drive, WEEEEEEEEEEE? Ain't all this fun?
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT,
how silwee, but then, one must learn to laugh, or we might just start
kwying like a bunch of bwatty little babies,
SHEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
W----O----W!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00025, BLOG-C
a
small attack came upon me around seven minutes shy of seven, if
memory is serving me at all correctly. It is now 8:47 PM-EST. I will
tell you about it for the official records of MORIANITY, and then I
will tell a huger thing than anything listed earlier today that I
said I would be getting into when an attack would strike, and strike
it did.
At
the time specified above, give or take a few minutes either way, a
super sub-woofer attack from across the hall struck. Also, earlier,
two fire alarms went off, and both ended without the need of the fire
company having to come out and deactivate them. But the sub-woofer
strike was super loud and super major, and despite it being a less
than one minute duration persecution, I have been totally promised,
that these nabes over there had removed their night club sub box, and
it is not gone, IT IS INSIDE OF THEIR
APARTMENT, AND HAS BEEN, as mentioned before, and they hit
me with a quick burst attack, just for fun; whenever the mother
fucking mood strikes them to do it. This
is why for a minimum now of seven straight cunt lapping business
days, their evil DOW JONES HAS GONE UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-UP-AND
YOU GET THE PICTURE. It has not had one down day in almost two solid
fucking business weeks now. I will get word to Debbie
Morotto, that this sub box is inside of that apartment,
and unless they are caught with it, it is not going to be removed. I
know that they have been contacted and influenced, by the same powers
that the Project-Bluebook also knows totally about, and believe me
folks, I am not speaking of alien grays, or flying air ships. A lot
more is connected with all of this, than all of the big UFO BUFFS can
ever even begin to fucking cunt dream about. All of MORIANITY
is what is behind this entire thing; and it all has
huge connections, that go far beyond the confines of this
entire universe; and I am the central key and figure that is behind
making this all a 'reality', and notice that I semi quoted the word,
and not without very good reason, folks. As I speak/type
electronically, I am receiving a major shit attack at four minutes
shy of nine, so when I come back, I will tell you all a huge story
about links and chains, how chemtrails many times appear as a linked
chain if you view all of the many YOUTUBE videos, and I will also
tell you about a major taboo item that is more hush hush than
traveling out of normal 3-D existence, called REALITY CHUNKING
CONTROL OPERATIONS, or RECCO for short. You better be ready, and you
better be sitting; and that is a Caveat Emptor the size of a
three-hundred font. So sit and breathe, as now I'll give it to you
straight and hard, and if you are not in the mood to be knocked
around mentally, and made a brain punching bag for a while; then get
out of here, and go over to the NEXT BLOG
button, and read the blogs of Gary T. Elliot lll, and his days in a
New England Lighthouse Job in the Thirties, or try Hallie Smyth and
her prize winning Mums, but stay here, and you will most likely have
some nightmares when you go to fucking sleep tonight. Please don't
say you were not warned. Thank you. Here goes:
OK,
for starters, what are reality chunks? Well, don't tell me that you
didn't know this question was coming. What is reality? It is time to
not spare feelings or worry about local grocery store walls, or
unforgiving kids, or the whole smack right about now, as I will play
the part now of General George Patton, and be up front, down and
dirty; and just tell it, and tell it mean and hard; as there is no
gentle way of transforming what I am about to tell now, into a nice
rosy child's fairytale. Sorry Charlie Tuna. Well, at first you may
not think I am being hard, or even harsh or cruel; but as I go on,
you will notice that I am speaking a truth that has no time to worry
about a reader's reaction, or what they may or may not be feeling as
a result or even if they should actually die in their sleep of sheer
terror, this very night, that is on whatever day this eventually all
posts up, and gets viewed. As stated on BLOG-B on this Jewelly White
Calendar 2 Day Number 00025 (JWC2) it will not be this day. OK
folks, first things first, and as I said, for a while this will be
nice easy reading, but be warned, careful
Patty Paula somnambulist, it won't stay that way; and so
may the horror films all begin. I said a couple of paragraphs back,
'What are reality chunks', and then went onto ask you to ponder,
well, what is reality? I will give all of you the answer, whether you
like it or not, and whether you think that I am totally insane, as
some do, on my internet hatepage
of Aquarius Records, WFMU, and Jason Forrest, and their combined
conspiracy to further label me unfit to join the world's society, and
continuing the traditions of 1965 with the Board of Education, and
the conspirators who were all involved with my life, not only as a
teenager, and an adolescent; but even as a youth, in my pre-teen
years, and in fact; going all the way back to the day that I came to
this fucked up world as MARK WAYNE MOHR, over at the Bryn Mawr,
Pennsylvania, Hospital; in the United States, at 9:30 AM, on
12-04-1954. But getting back to the point, and off of the tangent, of
life's cosmic calculus; the answer is and yes, I have said a little
part of this before over and over in my 7+ year blogging career now,
reality is nothing, it is pure 100% VOID
NOTHINGNESS!!!!!!!!!! So then what is reality? NOTHING.
Now many of the mystics take this to the next assuming levels of
logic, and go onto state that reality is therefore not real in and of
itself, as sort of as ZEN goes, it is entirely and totally, “WHAT
WE MAKE IT TO BE, AND THAT IS ALL IT CAN
BE”. Well, it is not at this level, where the truth of
this is halted. There is something beyond that wonderful simplistic
'ZENITY', and I will now tell what it is by speaking a little around
it. I do so in the same manner as if you try and stare at a faint
star in the dark night sky, and please peeps, go ahead and try this
for yourself, so you will see that I speak only plain truth to you;
but if it is real faint, it will wink out on you, as you try to focus
on it. This is not just me, and my poor eyesight. It is a known fact,
so for all of you 20-20, and 20-15, and even 20-10, eye gods and
goddesses out here; go do this. Find a dark area, and a night sky,
and a faint star; and I mean a faint one. Now instead of just letting
it wink out on you, begin to stare just off of this flickering point
of light, and watch the magic happen. You now will be able to
actually see it better than you were seeing it before, gazing dead
onto it. In this same manner, I want to just talk around a few
things, and let my readers' subconscious mind, make more out of it
than they ever would, if I go on talking, DEAD ON and straight,
actually making you see my point better, and way clearer. It is time
for some of you to begin to know a little more about many things;
you, me, Morianity, the entire ball of wax, and right now; whenever
that 'now' is for any of you, that is!!! All of us are in our
own total individual zone, and I do not care if you are in
the middle of the desert, or adrift at sea, or in a crowded subway,
or a city street; or any gray situation in-between. You are always
totally isolated, and alone; be it whether you have an
electromagnetic force shield that is surrounding you, with tera-watts
of power; or whether you are in the act of passionate love making. In
truth; you are totally alone, in an
interaction 400 times roughly each and every minute, where you, and
only you; are creating all of the reality around you; and none of it,
and I SAID NONE OF IT, is
real. Only YOU ARE REAL.
However, there is indeed a mystical, weird, beyond strange and
awesome, and unfathomably powerful energy force; that is riding along
with all of us, in our totally private loneliness zones; and you may
call this, for lack of calling it something better, the INTERACTION
FORCE, or even just the 'IF' for short, with or without
the 'bread', or the 'late sixties', 'or the 'zen type of musical
lyrics' from yesteryear. So if the world does stop revolving, you
indeed, can take the love of your life, and fly away with that
person, and it will not matter one bit, and in fact, old songs or no
old songs, whether the world lasted for one minute or for nearly ten
billion years on the fourth dimension, does not effect your true
REALITY, and that is because you, if you are here and reading these
words, EXIST, and if you EXIST, you always have existed and always
will exist, as in truth, there is no time above the fourth dimension
which is where time exists on a line, and henceforth, you simply
EXIST, and that is all that EXISTS, but there is one other tiny
nightmare connected with all of this. There
is indeed an IF, with or without the BREAD!!!!!!!!! Yes,
this Interaction-Force is purely
part of your very own creation, along with all other things you are
creating; your entire fifth dimensional hyperspace lives, of the
virtually limitless quantities of 4-D space-time-continuum's.
However, this 'IF' that you are creating, and that I am creating, is
like the Frankenstein monster story; as it then goes on to take a
life and 'reality' of its own, despite that truth that it really does
not exist in and by and of ITSELF, and is merely YOU creating it.
Conscious MIND that we all are living in an AWAKE WORLD interaction
through, makes totally sure, that we do not ever ever ever think, and
dwell on this, between the times that we awaken, and then fall back
into our so-called slumbers again. BUT I AM NOT LIKE ALL OF YOU,
folks, and I do know this; and I know it all totally awake
and consciously. So more about
REALITY-CHUNKS, and the IF: Well, be braced, as this was merely the
frikkin introduction into a walking Paula King nightmare, at its
worst; and one that I personally feel that she shared with her (our)
daughter shortly after this millennium began, and it nearly cost a
hefty price tag; the sanity of our great daughter, in the most
important lifetime that SHE has ever gone through, at least IMHO. My
Huntington Curse, my entire life situation, my 58+ years of physical
torturous hell here, all of it, and lots more; is all wrapped up in
the IF. I am not causing it. No one else is causing it. Whether any
of you live neutral lives, great lives, or rotten lives, such as
mine, again; the very same gravitational laws always apply. There is
no favoritism or prejudice with gravity. Your parachute fails and you
fail, and into the sweet night you return. There is no one to bribe,
no payola, no parole boards, no police, no justice system; and
merely a force that relentlessly will hold up to all of us, and is
totally balanced, and with absolute and total equality; something
that humankind could take a real lesson from, huh Roger Poole? For
the very few that may just be grasping even the smallest part of any
of this, you are feeling weird and different all ready, and are
experiencing a major flux of incredibly powerful and ambivalent
emotions, surrounding you as though you were caught smack dab by a #5
tornado. It won't let you go, so just go with the spinning. Get
ripped and torn apart for a while, and when you land peeps, you will
be another Dorothy for two reasons. First, you ain't gonna' be in
freaking Kansas anymore, and second, you will see a heightened
reality around you, you know; as with the movie, when it suddenly
bursts into technicolor, after she gets to OZ. This IF force, created
by me, just as your IF force, created by you; is why my computer is
hacked, and is why people treat me the way that they do; and it has
no more to do with what some team of fucking so-called know it all
psychiatrists would tell me in a sike-ward hospital, than the mother
fucking man in the moon, on an endless green cheese diet, with or
without gorgeous Jessica Simpson, and her lovely giant friend, on the
WW television spot commercial. Still, this does not mean that I will
not fight my created Frankenstein monster, until the dam fucking day
that I AM planted deeply into the ground forever. I have no such
intentions of ever giving up on screaming and shouting and crying out
for help, and I do not think Chris and Ed, or David Roth for that
matter, were wrong on their 'exposure theory'; only somewhat
misguided in their limited concepts of what is being dealt with, and
thus, how to most effectively deal back, against this IF, AKA the
''OTAMMIC'' WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, and many
other things as well, both for me, as well as all of
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
this IF is everything. It is why Dave came along in November of 1985,
but it is also why I came along in Dave's IF, with him. It is why
Chris and Ed led me to blogging, and that led me to the KINGS, which
led me to distant cousins of the greatest female RA on this planet,
who happens to be 'SCYLLA', who I had
been searching for since I thought I had lost her forever, when I was
in my mid-late teens, and eventually let it just go; only
the IF had other plans, and I had absolutely nothing
to say in the matter. For those ready to scream the two great words
at me, FREE WILL, don't. Of
course we all have FREE WILL. OUR FREE WILL CREATED OUR OWN UNIQUE
IF'S. But remember that you can have free will to put your hand on a
hot stove, but all the free will in the world won't make it not burn
and hurt real badly, after you choose to do this, and for a very long
time. Watch how the fuck you view the very concept of FREE
WILL, as it is a very tricky matter, and way more powerful
of a parlor trick actually, than a million 'MY' intros, on the 1986
“REAL GOOD GIRL” song, © 1986, Mark Wayne Mohr. No, the old
adage of God did not want robots after he made the angels, is totally
true, and we all have plenty of free will. Christians in fact think
we have a limited amount of free will, when really it is totally
without limit, and we do not have chains on us, or we would be some
small percentage of GOD-AUTOMATON'S.
This
sort of parallel argues a point very heated at present times after a
year of so much mass shooting and overall gun violence. I speak of
2012, and the most recent horrific shit up north, if you follow my
uncle's house, in that ROADWAY Trucking straight line, to my
daughter's old place, and then just basically keep moving in a
straight line, like bullets do. No folks, guns don't kill, bullets
don't kill, and people don't
kill. IF kills.
A loaded gun will stay locked in a cabinet and turn to a bunch of
rust and dust in a few thousand years, and so will all of us in a lot
shorter fourth dimensional line. But what never gets old or changes
for that matter, is the IF. This
INTERACTIVE-FORCE is not to be taken lightly, but let us
remain focused in on the issue of the guns, and the extremely violent
United States; and its recent two decade crippling problem, that
seems almost incurable right about now. Do I believe, as someone who
understands the reality of the IF, that
the gun ownership needs to be stopped? No. Do I believe that any gun
law changes, short of changing our own collective selves, can treat,
and hopefully one day, cure the problem? No. But do I believe that
the founding fathers would have entertained the idea that citizens
had a right to all carry around with us, a tiny nuclear bomb? Well,
you answer that one for me, even you in the
NRA. Common sense tells anyone, that peeps should be able to
defend themselves, their loved ones, and their property; while
maintaining a logical attitude about
obvious overkill. In other words, what does any non
military and non police system have any reason to have overkill
weaponry? Explain that one to me, and I'll be on their side of it,
right up to the last shot up crowd. It is not now, and never will be,
an argument with a valid defense. If we can all have junk that can
take out a room of people in seconds, then we can all have a nuclear
bomb, so why not bring back all the lovely crazy's like Osama bin
Laden and Saddam Hussein, and give them some nice little miniature
nuke grenades as well? The entire thing is so ridiculous, it is not
worth more discussion. Still, ever since the last massacre in
Connecticut, I notice that nobody wishes to address the disease, and
they still only care about giving out bandages and treatments. It
seems to be as insane as the medical profession, that we all know
after years of hearing Kevin Trudeau discussing it so plainly on his
great infomercials; that they only want to TREAT
the problems, NOT TO CURE THEM. I am telling this because
others have turned this tragedy into deeper, more diabolical
conspiracy type concepts; and they are so far off base. What power
structure is possibly able to gain in the long run, from the slow
annihilation of the citizenry, through endless mass shootings? Still,
it is obvious that folks that make our laws, and who we the people
elect to protect, just DON'T GET IT YET.
We need to understand why this rash of mass insanity is going on, and
I mean, AN ENTIRE WHY BOOK,
every bit as big as the DSM-4, or 5, or 6 maybe by now, I don't have
a clue; but I do know that no real serious study is being done. If it
was, they would take folks like myself for example, as thousands of
peeps have viewed my words and my blogs, and know that things with me
are real wrong, but I am sane enough to know that killing innocent
people is not ever some answer; but not all people suffering like me,
ARE THAT SANE AND RATIONAL. So, BANG, BANG, BANG!!! This is why
Washington, DC, thoroughly disgusts me, ladies and gentlemen, as
nobody cares. Nobody gives a fucking
shit about curing anything, just endlessly treating and bandaging up
the cuts and the scrapes, and burying all of the fucking dead. On
they go, getting on the TV and scratching their heads, and my words
tell what is going on, and so, is this a conspiracy of willful
ignorance, or an intentional one such as was suggested by our local
college professor on his blog? Well, I say none of that matters.
Don't the decent folks want to find out how to stop all of this, or
at least put a dent in the fucking body count? Well, if they ever do,
they will come here, to Morianity, and learn that what really is
killing people in this new 20+ year gun epidemic, is a very twisted,
Frankensteinian, INTERACTION-FORCE, that needs to be scrutinized and
studied very carefully, by every possible professional with a license
to do so. But don't listen to me, and my lame advice, hell; I told my
daughter to finish high school, and it is even on my song at the ©
Office from 1986 but she was the one person in the world that if she
hadn't, what difference would it have made? So go ahead, don't listen
to a dam thing I say, world, that will be on all of you. I am still
telling you that there is a reality, and
there is an IF. And further, I am telling you that this
collective IF appears to be out of control and especially since these
personal computers have come along,
and then the internet, that brings strange people to our fingertips,
and our kids would now rather FRIEND peeps from hundreds and even
thousands of miles away, instead of going out into a local park or
their own backyards, where the hell they belong. This entire shit,
GOOGLE, all of it, it is unnatural, demonic, and my choice of old
world wordage stands here folks, as whatever words that you choose to
substitute for mine, the truth is the truth. They took the prayer and
bible out of the schools, and in came drugs and gangs and guns and
trouble to replace it. Things need a balance. Take away something
good, and something bad will creep into the equation, every fucking
time, mark my fucking words. Take away the local old world old school
idea of normal real world friends, and in comes computers, perverts
all over the place, and sickos to the point where we worry about our
kids day and night. The world would be entirely different right now,
if things were like this in the eighties. My own daughter would most
likely be a statistic, and all you need to do is a quick bio to
understand what I am speaking of. If it was today, she would have had
to go to the city over my dead body. The world is a mess, and nobody
wants to take any kind of action outside of the normal everyday bland
mainstream bandage and treatment of the problems, well fuck that, I
know this is not what America needs, since this country needs to be
CURED, not treated for this illness; and internet and GOOGLE are a
huge part of that mess, and if you carefully read the scriptures,
with all of this in mind; it will jump out at you like a freight
train derailing and heading for your living room. Go ahead, be a Mike
McNulty, laugh, AHA AHA, real funny. Well, I TOLD YOU where the stock
market would be, at all time highs, and up every day forever, and
GINA, and all other MORIANS, not to brag, and sorry if it comes off
that way; but WOW, I WAS SURE RIGHT, RIGHT???
OK
folks, it is now time to end this blog, and begin the new blog; as
this is now the following day, and there is a lot to tell all of you.
So here we go, Marcus and McGinty, again!
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00026,
BLOG-A
The
noisy scum bag across the hall nabes, woke me around twenty minutes
past ten this morning, and after about eleven, it has become slam
bang, in and out, and in and out, continuously. It is now twenty
minutes shy of one this afternoon, and they are a major pain in my
ass today; and I knew that they would be, for several reasons. First,
I opened my door to check for the Comcast Cable package that I'll
need to use to send back my internet and telephone modem to them,
during my 90-day temporary cancellation of this service, so I can
recoup my automobile incurred losses and save some money; and I
observed that their inner door was open and their outer door had a
missing slot, as though they had intentionally removed it, so that
they could place some illegal spy equipment
inside their apartment, aimed right across the hallway, at
my apartment, and I will be telling Debbie
Morotto about this on Friday morning, at her office, along
with the sub-woofer attack last night, around shortly before seven in
the evening; that was quite horrendous. For two days straight now,
and as I told would be the case, as this is the way that things
ALWAYS MOTHER FUCKING ARE FOR ME, PEOPLE; as nothing good ever lasts
with me, more than a few days to maybe in rare blue moon occasions, a
week to ten days, and then things always revert back to the same old
mother fucking bullshit. This happens without fail, and anyone
watching this could set their fucking Swiss time pieces, to this
precision action. Yes, a 2-DAY NABE ATTACK.
Yes,
even while totally not connected to the internet, the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE always seems to
know exactly what I type onto my open office word document program.
It's blatantly obvious to a retarded one year old, that what I said
and typed last night, was not appreciated, by this great power, and
yes, let us start using the labels and titles we have all come to
recently learn from MORIANITY, the great and powerful IF, no Dorothy,
the IF, screw the tornadoes, and screw Kansas, 'my
pretty'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
we move this further along, let me show you all something. Visualize
a normal regular old world puzzle game, the type that come in boxes
and the box has a picture of what the completed puzzle will look like
after these many cut little 'CHUNKS'
of it, are all put properly together, right Mary and Bess
Greendress, of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii? My problem is that the United
States Air Force, along with the Bluebook Project Club of the
Blackfile Agency Network, are the only ones who see MORIANITY
for what it really is, and all of its incredible and extremely
powerful truths, for what they are as well. Now visualize this same
puzzle before it was actually cut into thousands of small pieces,
only also picture this. It is the very same picture, but now see 1000
other puzzles that are all cut differently, also into the very same
amount of little chunks that will all fit perfectly together so long
as it is pieced together accurately. Each of these puzzles could be
seen now as unique realities, or even, parallel universes. The big
picture in localized hyperspace or the many billions of very twin
type near realities to our very own right here, are indeed not all
that different at all. When put together, the small differences would
be in the little crack in-between the joined puzzle pieces, but the
same picture is made in the the long run, after all put successfully
together. But the smaller realities would alter, as one might begin
disassembling the corners, and then working their way inward towards
the center, in areas of say twenty pieces or so. Take out these
20-chunk pieces, and they become very different from the other exact
same picture puzzles of the twin areas, that are being compared with
each other. Today is where I open another major door of
secret-telling, of totally taboo and
hush-hush items, as would be viewed by you, as an ordinary
and zero-classified citizen, for reading these classified secrets;
would learn quite quickly, only perhaps in and with varying worded
terminologies. They say tomAAto, and I
might say tomaato, but we
both are still discussing the tomato.
This will bring me to the situation called dreaming, now; and
what I was dreaming, before the neighbors woke me this morning, for a
long in and out door session, after a number of quieter days, that as
I said; never lasts long. Also, a major indicator about a day being
bad and noisy, and filled with persecution of me by these dirt bags
across the hallway; is whenever a loud siege happens the night
before; it means these dirt bags have peeps over there, and they will
stay overnight; and be noisy the next day.
This is something that you can count on and bet on, with a million
dollars in cash or gold, and never grow a single wrinkle worrying
about a lost bet. It is just another one of my many CONSTANTS OF THE
WOMO MILI-2-FORCE ENEMY, or now, maybe we can just start using the
shorter version of this very same truth/reality, the IF!!!
Now the big secret on this blog, will be some real detailed
telling of a Project Bluebook very super covered up HUSH-HUSH SECRET,
and how it fits into my nabes from hell, across the hallway; and my
dreams last night, or really; right before they woke me up this
morning.
It
was so real and major, that I am not convinced yet that except for
the telephone call to 911 by me to complain, did not in fact happen
right here in waking life. The dream was as follows. These jerk offs
were screaming and hollering at each other at the top of their lungs,
and it went on and on and on, and just kept escalating horrifically.
Then I heard loud smacks, and slaps, and hitting sounds; and it was
very frightening. I am an old, weak, fragile person; and violence
scares me; and all you need to do, is access my old blogs when my
daughter's horrible distant family kidnapped me into Stockholm
Kidnapping Syndrome in late August of 2008 somewhere, and whenever it
was that I gained my internet and computer access again, at Judge
Raso's home at 65 Middle Road, in Hammonton (Blueberryville), New
Jersey. I began blogging during these horrible fights, from my
bedroom; that offered me no protection at
all from monster Dawn King, and the incredible violence
that went on in that house, and yes, WOMO and 'MO', “I'LL
PROMISE YOU THAT”. But moving this blog along here
folks, it was so horrible, that I thought I'd get a heart attack here
in this dream, if it was a dream, but whatever it was, I called 911,
and told that I needed someone over here quickly, and they then said
to me that I needed to call a number for domestic violence. Then all
the horrible scarey sound stopped dead cold, the phone line was dead
as well, and I opened my eyes here into this 'life and world'. I know
I dreamed calling 911, and being given that absurd shit, about
needing to call a domestic violence hotline number, when the police
needed to rush over here, before someone might have gotten themselves
killed; but the horrible fight could have possibly began here, in
where my physical body was laying in this bed. As I said, they are
acting up badly today, and if I need to, I WILL CALL 911, as this is
just more ammunition for me to use Friday, in Debbie Morotto's
Office. I won't rest until these FUCKING THUGS
ARE OUT OF HERE, as I know my kid and her local friends
from this part of Florida, are behind this, and would bet a billion
fucking dollars of borrowed mob money on it; as I'm so dam sure of
it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You see folks, only Scylla and I truly
know and understand, just how twisted she can be, when she wants to
be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now this works into my
point, that will be told, as one of the hugest
secrets in the PROJECT
BLUEBOOK,
OF THE USAF.
Let
us for arguments sake, just say that the fight over there earlier
today, that was maybe in my dreams, and maybe not; was in fact
'REAL', or real over here in this
parallel universe, as remember; the 'waking
mind' focuses on one universe-reality, and then it
observes all of the parallel universe-
realities 'subconsciously'. Folks, this is the modern
day explanation for the human brain and dreams, and why we
dream, and what dreams are all about; and so on, and so forth; and
it's all a thousand trillion megatons of total
unadulterated pig fucking shit, at C-Squared, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But
this is not the power behind this peta tera gargantuan ass secret, no
sir, THIS IS: Ready, YO??????????????????? By using the mix of
realities, via our senses; normal folks who just go to sleep and have
dreams all their life, that they rarely remember much about, or ever
give much thought or attention to, in any meaningful; way; are known
in the future of much of hyperspace, as TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS.
Being some type of an exploratron is like having a PRIVATE
COSMICODED NUMBER.
We all have one, as does anything that we could ever dream out from
the great VOID INFINITY. And just as in this cited case, everything
alive on this Earth with any degree of intelligence, experiences
dreams. However, only more advanced entities, learn what is going on
with all of this; and become DREAMERS, notice I change a noun into an
energetic action, a VERB; hence the noun of 'having a dream', to the
verb of 'dreaming'! At that stage, you learn that you can manipulate
your dreaming at certain times, and not the earlier three quarters of
your time in bed each day, but in that final quarter, so begin seeing
all of this as an exciting cosmic football game, with the quarters,
and anything, as all football fans know only too well; can happen in
that monster ass FOURTH and FINAL
QUARTER!!!!!!!!!!
DREAMING
is therefore done in the fourth quarter of our slumber, and by
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS. Anyone can learn a little bit, and most folks
could care less about learning a single thing about this seemingly
worthless topic, except for the psychiatric purposes of better
understanding ourselves, but you want to understand yourself
three-dimensionally, and all of you average normal folks out here,
who are playing with the psychoanalyzing of dreams; you need to come
to understand that this is helping you to only understand yourself
better, fifth dimensionally, as
the realer and much larger true you. I will now tell you a tiny bit
of a very huge secret that the power structures and all those who own
us and govern every aspect of our lives, by way of legislation, and
force to back it up; know about in varying piecemeal; as some may
know this, and some may not, and I doubt any of them know the entire
reason why BLUEBOOK was closed, and why most peeps today just think
of automobile value listings, when you mention that term any longer,
not Ufology, or any of these related cousin topics, pun, pun,
pun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Someone more advanced than myself,
and empowered by group strength as well, or the EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND, as I referred to this so often in my late
twenty-ohs blogs; would have done something along these lines, rather
than just get up for the day, and suffer at the hands of my
daughter's lovely friends. An advanced TYPE-3-EXPN would have taken a
quick piss, and drank a glass of juice; and then put earplugs in his
or her ears, then placed a headset with a white-noise CD that is sold
in many stores, turned on their CD player, and gone right back to
sleep, only they would be thinking as hard as they could about
calling the 911 dispatcher again, and also hearing that operator
telling them, we will come over and arrest those thugs for you. By
the time you did that as hard as you could three or four times or so,
you would be dead asleep again, and re-dreaming back where you were,
only this time, your energy is taking over the operator person over
in that other universe (parallel reality), and he or she indeed says
this to you, sends over the police, and the fight does not stop, and
is going on while the police exit the elevator on this sixth floor,
and they come over and arrest the nabes. Once an arrest is made,
that's that, as the old Esolphs Fables go, so eloquently. Now you
have taken a localized or close-in universe to your own, and made an
effective change towards a goal, that you wish to have happen to the
waking part of your brain, that tunes into this parallel universe.
Every time you make a concerted effort to consciously, and with
motive and will; make localized parallel reality alterations; slowly,
the atoms that vibrate nearly equally in frequency, but off by
unfathomably miniscule amounts, and just enough to keep universes and
realities apart from each other to conscious brains; these 'reality
chunks' begin to slowly reshape themselves towards nearer and nearer
gradual equalization's. I talked to you about reality, and reality
chunks, and then later on about the example of equal puzzles, only
cut differently. You in effect as a TYPE-3-EXPN are gradually
reshaping the cutting, not the overall reality, remember, the picture
at the end, is the same with all these puzzles, and this example is
being used in this illustration, because I'm discussing close-in, or
localized hyperspace, very close parallel realities, that may differ
in extremely small ways and amounts, as opposed to more distant parts
of the fifth dimensional hyperspace. Now you may not GET ALL OF THIS
blog, but if you were able to get it fully, you would see what the
USAF and other global powers and leaders, are really doing their
endless best, to keep locked up tighter than even the illustrious
Fort Knox. Gold will have no value just as soon as the price climbs
higher one day, than the cost to produce it from other less expensive
elemental chemical processes. As I speak right now, in long run
moving averages, since gold was fixed at around 30-USD per troy
ounce, there is a consistent decade gold price increase, that is
totally astronomical. Also, the technology for making this same
element of gold, by way of complex electrical mixing and atom
splitting, is always coming down, decade by decade. When they match,
and the two lines cross away from each other, the planet will
financially collapse overnight, just as oil will totally run out when
our grandchildren our still in high school. These are facts folks,
you don't have to like them, you don't have to like me, the
messenger; just don't shoot this poor old messenger, for telling you
all these great wisdom's and truths. Thank
You!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now it is somewhat later on into the
evening hours, and I will continue on with the day's B-BLOG, so
goodbye-and yet again folks, HELLO!
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00026, BLOG-B
It
is 7:42 PM-EST, on this Wednesday evening. At around twenty-five
minutes past four back earlier in the late afternoon, the shit
started again for ten minutes, with these scum bag demonic nabes from
hell across the fucking diseased hallway from me here in the PH
Building at 601 Avenue B, in Fort Pierce, Florida, near the corner of
Orange and 7th Avenues. You can see this seven story
apartment building clearly for blocks around, and that is what I wish
I could be doing folks, seeing it, NOT LIVING THE FUCK IN IT!
Folks,
I will skip around, here and there, so live with it. Thank you. What
I never mentioned before, is that when I had Mister Morgan Chase AKA
'Dennis' over here at my unit number 607, back on December the
eighteenth, back in twenty-twelve; something quite strange happened
while loading a CDR disc into the computer disc hard drive system
that because of the strange way that this Walmart HP computer tower
is designed, makes what happened a definite but rare possibility, and
it chose to happen while we were doing our thing, and as I
speak/type, more yelling and uncouth loud fucking jerked off
behavior, is coming out of that apartment again, across the hall; and
now a door bang; and the time is fucking cunt 7:49 and a half
PM-EST, on this January fucking sixteenth, of twenty-thirteen, YO YO
YO YO. Somehow all of my nabes know when 'I AM' typing on this
machine, even though the keyboard is dead ass fucking silent, meaning
they all have illegal spy equipment, or else, other stuff is going
on, and the net resulting effect remains totally fucking equal. In
other words, if some punky little bratty child in a broom closet,
three blocks west of this building; is chanting magic words, and
eating a nasty raw mushroom, to accomplish this same event every
single time; then it does not matter whether or not any spy
apparatus is used, or anything else for that matter; thus, whatever
it is that allows this all to simply be my reality, over and over
again, IT IS MY REALITY, plain,
pure, mean, and simple, right Medical Center 1970 wife beater, Orange
Juice Simpson? Wow, we all need another big celebrity trial, and it
feels and seems way overdo, I mean after-all, 1995 was some time ago,
and the trials after that were never on that level. WO Mister Harner,
but not ''WO'' as in World Owners. The doors are slamming and the
shouting is getting worse. I am really going to be telling Debbie, my
building Resident Manager, about these horrible fucking people and
what they did beginning last night. Something tells me there is going
to be a huge fucking party in there tonight, and I don't know why,
only that the all encompassing and awesome fucking ''IF'' is what is
behind everything, including what is going on around me right now as
I speak/type at three minutes shy of eight this evening. I really do
hope they force me to call 911, as I have taken just about all I am
going to take from these miserable twisted mother fucking total swine
bags over there, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now
back to the slipped disc incident with the great elusive stranger
from 12-18-2012. No sir folks, I'm not discussing bad backs here on
this blog, but this computer has a tower that pops the disc drawer
open, and then when you insert a disc, you are not putting it in
horizontally, but vertically, onto its side, and hence, the chance is
very rare, but it theoretically can fall out of the drive; and that
is just what happened on that day. So when it fell out, it became
deeply buried inside of the computer tower. I admit that the computer
instruction manual tells the operator, never to load or eject,
without tipping the tower to the side, so this will not happen. What
a stupid ass fucking design. In any case, it took major surgery, and
fortunately for me, this strange dude knew how to take the entire
computer apart, and even then, it was almost like brain surgery,
getting the fucking stupid ass disc out of where it had become wedged
and lodged in, deep inside the middle of the thing, just about as
much as could possibly be the case. In any event, I had the right
screw drivers to perform the surgery, and Dennis was an incredible
surgeon. I'm now getting a right side death android attack at three
and a half minutes past eight of the clock. It is just now abating,
Sir Peter, of Post #120. Yes folks, I live inside HELL, and
there is 'NO ESCAPE' from this HELL, and my wonderful daughter
seemed to know about all of this, even back at age
thirteen, and perhaps magically influenced me to write those
incredible lyrics through STM, that went, “It was many many days,
back before it got so bad. We all were fools for never seeing just
how much we had. And the danger would be great, and today would be
too late, if we put the letter 'C' back before the letter 'B', or put
the letter 'G' back before the letter 'D'. But now's the time to make
it rhyme, and not to do so is a crime, the mountain tops are there to
climb”. Now the great Doctor Howser
can discuss the next third and final verse, pertaining to the famous
electrocardiogram machine, and how a broken heart is not all that
'mendable'. Fuck you. I'll use the word, it fits; screw your English
vocabulary, as this is me, Benny Reincarnated; right my
lovely LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA ARTEEMIS? Yes, the great
doctor Doogie, and no, nothing to do with related Atlantic County
Prosecutors, to a generation of family physicians from Philly 57
Hockey Sticks, or any kind of Barbara Fonda Ling Long other potential
sticks, or rotten promo-singers, who were hired by
dick head Ed Snyder and the garbage Philadelphia
Flyers Hockey team. Yes, that would have been 'Doctor Housel',
but you must admit; if this shit was all fucking going down in your
lives folks, there's no way that you will convince me, that you'd be
accepting these twenty-four-billion coincidences in you lives, any
more than I am willing to mother fucking do here in mine, YO!
Now
to discuss LINKS and CHAINS and skies that glow, and LA MISTS ARE
HERE, oh shitty prophet of absolutely nothing, back in 1988, MARK
WAYNE LOSER TRASH MOHR!! SLAM SLAM SLAM
SLAM, WOW these crazy fucking cock suckers are acting up for the gods
only know what reason, and it has been bad now for two
straight days and nights, and I believe it is indeed heading for a
mother fucking real major ass crescendo. Nothing lasts forever, as
lightning in her full born human form, taught me; and when, Mister
Orwell, kind sir? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, give me a break, Ron Wirtz
Senior, Camden County Prosecutor ADA of 1990. Yeah, the great L&O
TV show just happened to begin right after David Roth and I met Ron
for the very first fucking time on December the dam ass fifth, in
1989, oh yeah, sure, right, whatever, dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
in some strange way, MY IF, and
these dirt ball NABE'S IF, are
really going to town on something, and for some reason; but don't ask
me!!! Well, to put it more honestly folks, don't ask me, you know; as
if Doctor Garrigan needs to be listening to any of this, but say it I
will anyway, and that is, many times we all have heard or been told,
and I quote, “I can't help you”, and then either it is said, or
you are thinking silently to yourself; yeah, you can't, or you won't.
A retard knows what I mean when I say now, “DON'T ASK ME”. Still,
for going on five years now, I only used to think that I had 'IF'
troubles, or to keep the mighty and great Doctor Garrigan happy, but
not 'too happy' in all of this, ''AS IF'',
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! Have enough zingers been shot
around the room yet, Dawn King, and Michelle RPL Daniels,
YO??????????????????????
Folks,
this blog will end right here for now, and I will be posting up a
brand new series collection to keep any one blog from being a hundred
pages long, as I realize now after a week of not being able to post
up and publish my work to any internet blogger sites, just how big
ass winded I AM. Have you ever seen a windbag, oh yes, the old camp
songs, right Landon Horowitz? Well, you're hearing one now, and to
see one, my ugly photo is on many sites, go to the older
www.blogger.com website blogs,
to the link address of http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/
and then access the bio, and clicking there shows my ugly mug for all
to see. I have honestly not changed much at all since that was taken
a while back, and I stay away from video and photography, rarely if
ever taking photos. That was the only recent photo ever taken of me,
outside of my two most recent passports, and Eric, I know you were
full of shit, and you know you were, and then you doubted me and my
family nightmare. You lying good for nothing hypocrite bastard, you.
WHAAAA.
JWC2,
DAY 00028, BLOG-A
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555—WOW!
Now
that nice set of fives, compensates for lots of Jane Sleazedisease
Dirtweeds clock attacks recently. Early in the day around late
morning and early afternoon, yesterday, the seventeenth, was totally
unlike the fifteenth and the sixteenth of January, with these crumbs
across the dirt-bag hallway. It has been nice and graveyard quiet
except for a little bit of shit once in the late morning and once in
the early afternoon, and that was nothing like the shit on the prior
two frikkin days. IF or 'AS IF', 'thesis-failed' Jim-G???
Eddie,
if you are out here, my apology for thinking you were hacking into my
computer, all though you did used to do that little scan trick,
searching for other WIFI systems that were unprotected; back when I
first met you in 2006; and you were rooming over there at Judge
Raso's rooming house, on Central Avenue, in Hammonton, New Jersey;
and Ann and Dawn King, and Chicky; all lived in the apartment above
you.
It
still was not Ed Lynch. He is flesh and blood mortal, and cannot pull
off the wild tricks that only All
Mighty Scylla
can and I know it. Even unconnected into anything, SHE has totally
let me know that SHE can see everything I am typing on this keyboard,
and blog; that is not able to be posted for any public view now,
because of my break pads on my car fucking up, and causing a brake
lock up; and between the 120 dollar repair cost, plus the 60 dollar
annual December four, vehicle registration cost, coming to nearly
$200.00; I had to make urgent and immediate mother fucking financial
cutbacks, and the only feasible thing that I saw to do, was reduce my
Comcast Cable services of phone, internet, and low tier television,
down to just the TV, for a few months. It was my only logical and
viable option. So I did it. Now there is no posting of my blogs.
Sure, I can save them to a CDR disc as I have an entire box of free
unopened blanks, except for about maybe five, that have been used to
put music onto; or else I could use the flash-zip drive little
key-chain thing to save a set of blogs to, and then go over to my
local library, reserve computer time, and paste the stuff up to my
two blog sites, Wordpress and blogger. But I am very fucking
concerned about doing anything anymore. This cunt lapping force
against me, or really, this INTERACTION FORCE or 'IF' as we all call
it now for short, like it or not 1970 Haddonfield Doctor Garrigan,
this IF has me more than cock sucking major apprehensive about doing
anything at all any more. It has me fucking terrified, and you know,
Mister shot through the heart Cutter, of Lamist Law and Order, as
with the great 2009 episode called, “RUMBLE” with that gorgeous
Asian lady who the Loo said could use a lot of counseling, and I
totally concur; but if I can ever prove the exact humans that have
been in on this illegal hell that I've been cunt eating put through
by them for 30 years give or take; THIS WILL BE A
TERROR CHARGE,
or else, I'll get a lawyer who WILL have the mother fucking balls, to
copy this marvelous fantastic terrific television law show; the one
that even surpassed the great once All Mighty Perry Mason, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!
Now,
I am fucking cunt getting ANOTHER MISS DIRTWEEDS NOTFONDAU ATTACK,
FROM FUCKING ASS PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN ON THIS GOD DAM ASS WORD
DOCUMENT. LET ME FRIKKIN ASS COMPENSATE AGAIN, GOOD FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555
PLUS 5555555555555555 TIMES 555555555555555555 DIVIDED BY
55555555555555, IS EQUAL TO (I DON'T CARE ONE RATS BASTARD WORTH OF
MAGGOT CRAP), JUST LET ME STARE AT MY LOVELY ASS FIVES, YO YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes,
there is a lot to discuss with the topic of MOTORCYCLE CHAINS, AGENT
JOHN HENNINGSEN OF ONE WAY GLASS TRAVELERS FROM CAMPBELLS SOUP,
REALITY CHUNKS, MEMORY SWITCHINGS, TENNESSEE AVENUES OF ATLANTIC
FUCKING CITY NEW JERSEY, AND ON AND ON I CAN GO WITH THIS DIRTY
FILTHY LAUNDRY ASS LIST, GOOD
PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
us start with reality chunks and one way glass. Did John Henningsen
get this from 1990 and the L&O TV show, or did they get that back
in 1968, from HIM, W—O—W?????
There
was an office not that far from the great studios of Philadelphia,
all of their television stations, on City Line Avenue, just off of
the great world famous SURE-KILL Expressway, (Schuylkill) is the real
spelling, and WEEEEE, even Microsoft Spell-Checker knew that. Should
I drop dead now or later, folks? Don't even answer that, YO! This
office was in a building in this exact vicinity. He would take me
there, and show me the magic one way mirror. Too bad my wonderful kid
was not born yet. She'd a got a real kick out of that, I'll bet. I
know it really flipped me out, but just why, I did not understand
''yet'' via STM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh well, there is really
void more to be added for the time being about this (nothing), come
on McNulty, I miss you, ya' son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He's just pissed because when I took off my glasses, the headmasters
daughter was checking me out like a mother fucker, that day in 1971,
YO. I do not ever forget one single detail. Hay you look good on TV,
Jasper old buddy. I was very sorry to hear about the recent troubles
up there. 'STM' kicks in here, buddy; as I MAY RUN INTO YOU LATER
TODAY, WHEN I COME UP THERE, FOR A COUPLE WHITTLE GROCERY ITEMS, and
so maybe I will see you tomorrow. Only when you read this, will
tomorrow be long gone? Just where are you when I need you, Doctor
Carl Sagan, and Mister
water-hose 'dreams'
Elmer Fudd; you silwee wabbit, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA???????????
So
is John Colorado a secret BF Agent from the future, or are TRUMP and
all of his lovelies, a lot more then 'they' are pretending to be?
Well, I cannot speak for his folks, but as for him, until I created
his personality on that RS-1500-US machine, there was no him. We all
know it. We all know this is stuff we just don't dare ever believe to
be true, or we'd all be too fucking scared to turn off the lights at
night, and crash into mother fucking bed!!!!!!!!!Hell, I still
remember the old school-book story, to this very day; and I will
quote from it now, and hopefully with permission, “Deny, deny,
deny”!!!!!! Yeah right, like they are going to all fucking just
come out tomorrow or soon, and say, oh yes, 'Mark Wayne Mohr' is
telling us all a totally true, and completely accurate story; and we
have been tormenting and torturing this poor little bastard, all of
his god dam life. You believe that rotten dirty guilty peeps are
gonna' just confess to their wicked crimes, and I've got really great
news for you. Santa Claus is gonna' take you to the North Pole and
give you his entire workshop, next December twenty-fifth,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is 12:07 PM on Friday the eighteenth, A KARGE DAY OF SIEGE, with
CHEMTRAILS all over the skies of
Fort Pierce, Florida, and I am going to begin playing Morianity
Tapes, through the Pedersen Roachphone system, just as soon as I
finish this short blogging entry. My numerous enemies seem to be so
connected as coming from one source so many times, but that is a mere
fucking ass illusion, it is all just a lot of horrible hellish
negative interaction around me, all totally unconnected with each
other in real truth, despite appearing so totally opposite of this to
me, upon numerous occasions.
I
now am going to begin a new word document as I start BLOG DAY
00028-B. There will be a lot to tell you about this incredible wild
and approaching, one of my personally-famous, ''WEIRD DAYS''.
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00022, BLOG-A
12:17
PM-EST, early Saturday afternoon in HELL!
My
dirt bag nabes woke me,with their loud horrible hallway shouting
around half past nine this Saturday fucking morning, then all was
relatively quiet. I woke up around two hours later again, but not as
a result of major noise, but after I was awake a while, at around
12:08 PM, my dirt bag motorcycle enemy went by my window, not super
bad, but enough to let me know that they all got their evil wicked
fucking way last business week with their EVIL EMPIRE DIRT BAG DOW
JONES STOCK MARKET.
I
just now took a bath, and cleaned up; and am heading over to Mike
Patterson's Beach House, up on Hutchinson Island. And now, through
the miracle of SPACE-TIME-MIND, I am back from Hutchinson Island. I
had a good time and a productive discussion, with my pal Mikey, and
then came directly home. The skies were dead quiet today, and the
police were again monitoring the building with a patrol car presence,
making me feel very happy and secure. It is now, 3 minutes past 7 in
this mild dark evening, another one of Sir Elton Alright Saturday
nights, YO!!!!!! I never did anything to any of you, not you Mister
Mayor, and not any of you down or up there, or ''whatever'', RA, in
Atlantic City, New Jersey. Interesting how you followed a pathway
that goes totally contrary to your wonderful initials, old friend,
Congressman, sir. The skies and the building, other than for the loud
quick burst around half past nine this morning, and a few quick
talking sounds since I got home, and a door a few times not slammed,
is all nice and for the most part graveyard quiet, just the way I
like it. I would love to live in a mausoleum, or die in one, either
way works for me, Mister Mayor, YO YO!!!
I
am relaxing with some good movies and good food and desert. Fuck the
world. I don't need any of you, and I don't want anything to fucking
do with a soul, and really, I never did, and never will. I am the
original man of solitude, the loner eccentric, who would have made a
great male twin for the long ago actress, by the name of Greta Garbo.
WEEEE!!
There
were a lot of motorbike trash all over, but that is par for the
course year round here in cunt eating ass Florida, my good folks, and
BLOGAUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was one girl in a very lovely
dress who really was checking me out while I was stopped at a red
traffic light. I am not interested in anybody, and don't care if the
entire world explodes into vigintillions of tiny particles.
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00023, BLOG-A
half
past noon on Sunday 01-13-2013
Beginning
around half past eleven, an hour ago, the dirt bag nabes opened and
shut their dam doors over and over again, and then my other asshole
nabes above me, as they do every several weeks, began hammering
something. I do not know if they hang different pictures or what they
are doing, but if this is it, then they are in violation of their
lease as well, as this is strictly forbidden, and they've been doing
it at least once monthly since I moved into this fucking dump back in
May of 2011 somewhere.
It
is another sunny day with a few clouds here and there. Today is
supposed to be a carbon copy of yesterday, around 80 degrees for a
high, and free of precipitation. Me, I'd rather have a lot of rain.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!
l
am going to watch some movies, and later, fix my frozen dinner, as
the afternoon progresses along. Fuck the world.
It
is half past eleven at night, and I'll be starting a new blogging
post later on around one AM or so. This will end here, and we will
start with DAY 00024, BLOG-A. The rest of the day was quiet, nothing
to report. Just relaxed and enjoyed some good food and TV. Screw
everybody, and screw everything! I don't need anybody, or want
anybody in or around my life. All people are good for, are causing me
trouble, suffering, miseries, and woe; and I have given all my pain
and tears at the office, Mr. AT&T baseball fields, Gabe.
MORINAITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00019, BLOG-A
12:12
PM-EST, Mark Wayne Mohr, at Fort Pierce, Florida:
Here
is the situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson. My nabes brought
their sub-box back yesterday, the eighth of January, and I've heard
it both yesterday and again today, for a very quick short duration,
but it was there and on, in violation of their requirement to remove
it or else face eviction. I will be asking Debbie what she plans to
do about this newest escapade these trash have pulled, since they
feel so all mighty privileged and entitled as though nothing can
touch them and that they are invincible with the cosmic permission to
mess with me, and do whatever the hell they want to do. They came in
around two AM today and were gone since early afternoon on Tuesday,
yesterday, giving me a small break from them, and a rare to basically
never occurrence with them, ever since September when they totally
changed, just like with the Playboy Bunny back in 1982, at 1802 Robin
Hill Apartments, of Voorhees, New Jersey; same exact thing, only with
them; they changed when they heard me tell my mother that I was going
to stop in at the FBI Office, and
talk about these strange people who came out of nowhere, and invaded
my peaceful worl;, literally. Never again did they go out on weekends
after that, but rather, they had their horrendous loud parties at the
apartment. This was an error that altered the course of my entire
mother fucking miserable ass life.
My
internet has been off since yesterday afternoon. The Comcast Cable
people fucked it all up as usual, and I am glad that I called. It
hopefully is straightened out this time, as they are mailing me a UPS
box to send back my cable modem in, to them; and my downgrade is
effective now, as per the date of my order placement, the 27th
day of last December. The original agent had left things where I
could just keep it for the 90-day off period, and this is not true,
as it is rented property, and as long as this is retained by the
customer, the rent on it is charged, and they keep it on; so the full
billing would have taken place. But more shit needs to be reported,
not just the subwoofer being back, and the cable fuck up, and now
being off the net; but a third major fuck up happened early in the
wee hours of this eighth day of this month of January-2013. I went
into major systems fucking failure with my fucking cunt ROULETTE. I
am unable to get RYAN to take down my FACEBOOK account, and it must
come down. I believe that there is a plot to have me arrested and
jailed, and GOOGLE is taking no prisoners. The Dow Jones is either at
or just about to go to ALL FUCKING TIME RECORD HIGHS, so my life is a
total fucking mess now, and anything is possible with these fucking
diseased twisted warped evil demonic WALL
STREET ENEMIES. I
was finally able since the last week in November somewhere, to snap
that monstrous fucking cunt horrible BOTBAR-ATTACK, magnetically
locked in, that would not allow me to have more than two days
straight of NON-BOTBAR, but on the eighth, kaplooee and shanooee, a
nasty BOTBAR came my way, making me now three for eight, and unless
it remains a fucking single BOTBAR, it will be four for nine and
gearing up for a split should I in fact get a BOT X 3. This would
mean five BOT and five NOT or a 50% MPB. Right now as of yesterday's
daily close, my MPB remains at three for eight, and I will tell more
later about both why I started up again, keeping track of this, as
well as some secrets that if this was to actually post today which it
won't, I would have to leave some of this out on the copy blog made
separately, and told only on my own private blog, all about the
complete secret. This is for only my own good, and has nothing to do
with anyone viewing the blog. I am now going to shit, shower, and
shave, get dressed, and go out on a few local errands. I'll type in
more later on, as things happen and need reporting. I'll end this,
with the fact, that the sub-woofers woke me around an hour ago, and
it is now about 37 minutes past 12 noon, and that I will be getting
rid of these monster lion-king scum bag nabs, if I have to fucking
throw a hand grenade into their faces. Also, I was going to go to the
library to see two of the IT Teck Support ladies yesterday, and
decided not to go. I know what I am doing. Things need to be
tactically retreated from upon occasion so you can live a little
better and stronger, to play another day, from a stronger level and
perspective. I know my old hero, General George Patton, differs from
me on this particular part of my battle strategy, but he is not here
to help me fight this army of the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
either, and if he was; he could do it his way. That would be all just
fine and well with me, my brother; only it is not the case, so my way
will just have to do here, folks. OK, time for the bathtub. I'll be
bahk later on, Arnie Gov.
Back
now, as the later earlier, is the now, NOW. This is why
SPACE-TIME-MIND is what it is, Dawn-Marie King, and with or without
you, or your ever so blessed great marvelous 'THAT-FAMILY'. There is
a lot to tell, so far today now, as of 2:54 PM, I have been home from
my errands about fifteen minutes, and have
taken four fucking cunt lapping major attacks on this day now,
and am naturally, SUPER HIGH OTAMMIC, and BOTBUR X 2. It's
unofuckingfficial, but it it what it is, DMK. It began with the dirt
bag sub-woofer attack from the scum bags from across the hall. Then
they spied on me when I left and was walking towards the elevator,
and let me know it by slamming their door real loud, after opening it
dead ass fucking cunt quietly. Coming home after all my errands had
been completed, there was a spurious low
MILI-2-FORCE AIRCRAFT, hovering right in front of me, and
then after I got back into my fucking ass apartment, that new enemy
on the cock sucking motorcycle, made his noise big time, right
outside of my window. This is four fucking attacks, and this does not
happen, at mere fucking ass random happenstance, whether any of my
viewers reading this at a later time and date, choose to believe or
disbelieve my mother fucking words, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!! I would bet
big money that their garbage totally monster evil DOW
JONES STOCK MARKET is soaring and flying past the
distant stars, and the intergalactic fucking shit beyond that, far
exceeding all time record highs; an indicator meaning, if I do not
get out of their evil dirt bag nation, I'M FUCKED, SCREWED, AND DEAD
FUCKING MEAT, AT LIGHT SPEED SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!!! I Now am
totally broke, except for enough loot to put a little more gasoline
into my car before the month is over, so I will be able to get over
to Ryan's studio, Avalon; in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, Botbarida;
and then until the third of cunt eating fucking ass February, I am
sitting in here totally ass dime-less,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But
I did manage to get one big and extremely interesting piece of
knowledge come my way, as a result of my short but sweet excursion
today, out into the mother fucking outside world. Here comes the
sub-woofers again, I cannot prove it is them across the hall when
they merely do it for a few seconds, to persecute me, and that is all
this is about by the way, and this is not being entertained by their
rotten taste in noise-music, but rather is all about the persecution
and pummeling of poor innocent me, and we all know that, or else; we
all are god dam fucking idiot fools. I know what I know, not THAT,
MC; since I am not the great Stacey-I AM, right Copyright Office
Examiner of 2007 and 2008???????? If this siege against me does not
back off, I'll be PLAYING MY MORIANITY FUCKING TAPES, THROUGH THE
PEDERSEN ROACHPHONE SYSTEM, and that you can believe, until 3AM. Now
for what I was able to learn, by running into the one real true pal I
have from this building, a man who also came from my very area, and
knows the RPL Recording Studio very well, living in
Camden, New Jersey, himself; some time ago. Someone told this man
that the person that I had over to this apartment, Dennis, from the
local Publix Grocery Store, back on December the eighteenth, to try
and post up my song, “YBCO” to the Youtube; was in fact here to
work on my computer, even
though I never told anyone one single thing.
According to my pal, who does a lot of the security guard duty, at
the front desk of this Public housing Building; he is experiencing
major hacking on his computer system, and someone
is on his system, a real major KEYBOARD-STROKE-WORM-VIRUS,
just as is discussed on the 'LAW & ORDER' television show, with
the sex offender who was able to use the fictional company called,
'Access Nation' to learn all about his doctor, and then was able to
place this worm into this psychiatrist's computer, and monitor every
move she made online, or on her word document system, from the
privacy of his own home, any time he chose to fucking do so. This man
here, is paranoid and has a right to be. He was asking all of the
people on the sixth floor, that have a computer; the same things he
asked me, only when you tote it all up, in retrospect; he only asked
me if I knew three different folks, and then if I lived here; which
still is strange and spurious. In any event, I know that my rotten
family is behind all of these troubles, making me look like the
potential bad person doing the bad stuff, when it is them all along,
not only messing so it seems, with me; but others here as well, to
throw off any suspicions, away from themselves, and onto me; an
already fucked victim to start with, and all thanks to them. See what
I go through and deal with, with this diseased washcloth alien family
from beyond the fucking stars, people? No, of course you don't, and
furthermore, none of you could fucking care less; and I'm not stupid,
and I know all of this only too mother fucking
well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
day is very close to going BOTBAR TIMES
TWO, and when it does, I'll get on 'MAGNESONIC', and
cause another major 7.5 magnitude earthquake, so just keep this
fucking shit up, OTAMM-SCUM MILI-2-FORCE
DIRT BAGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As for right now, it is time
for me to fucking cunt relax!!!!!!!! This is the ninth of January of
twenty-thirteen, a middle Wednesday afternoon, and if anything
happens to me, I have been murdered by all the wicked evil persons
that my entire seven year blogging career, makes mention to, in not
the nicest ways; and this is an official legal dying utterance and
dying declaration, in fear of my life and limb at this moment; and
under full penalty and pain of perjury, I make this legal claim, and
legal statement, on this word open office 3.1 system; and my
pass-code will be found, as it is in my wallet, so anyone can easily
get into the computer. Inside of my wallet, is a note, telling that
my murderers will all be found on my blogs. For now, this is the end
of my words for today, fucking ass hopefully
anywho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK
folks, their dirt bag market, as expected, flew up again today, over
61 points. But this is not the giant news, and you would not believe
it anyway, so I won't bother putting it into print, except on my copy
that does not get posted up for the public view. I knew the DOW JONES
was flying because of numerous fucking cunt lapping major indicators.
One is the siege around me and numerous attacks all day long, another
is what I refer to as my 'personal magnetics' being extremely fucking
LOW, and there are yet more constants that always seem to indicate,
that when they are around me and happening to me, UP UP UP, is going
the fucking cheated, crooked, manipulated, evil, stock market; the
tool of the super wealthy, stealthy, world owners. Yes, my evil
fucking nabes are being very noisy again today, and at exact times,
such as the minute that I start typing on this keyboard, and unlike
the typewriters of decades past, the only way that they can know I am
on this thing, is if they are illegally spying on me with sound dish
type equipment, available supposedly, if you trust television shows
such as L&O-SVU, at any spy-stores, wherever these really may
exist at, in non-television-real-life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I am
sure that somebody has all of this information, just as somebody knew
all along, that Mariah Carey, was and is, my daughter!
It
is now 6:27 PM-EST, on this same date of 01-09-2013. Half an hour or
so ago, loud hall shouting was going on by my uncouth jerk off nabes,
and recently lots of doors and in and out noise from these total
fucking twat licking turds. Now folks, I asked GAGA CAT just why this
horrible fucking BOTBAR X 2 DAY,
happened today, and was given PRIVATE COSMICCODED NUMBER (PCN) 682.
Items in my book that match up with PCN-682, are as mother fucking
ass follows:
TALL
GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH----PROJECT
BLUEBOOK----QUEENS----CANCER----MOVING------TWENTY----THE MORNING
LIGHT----BEAVER----PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING
MACHINE----////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
I
mentioned my personal magnetics, based on a powerful system for
testing and measuring a person's luck or agreement force with cosmos,
to put the word “LUCK” somewhat more intelligently, and it is an
actual and real honest true force no matter who says it's not, and I
should fucking know if anyone should, but yes folks, this right now
is as low as it gets. IT CANNOT SINK LOWER.
You fucking can't take an absolute bottom and cut a hole in it, no
matter what my old hero, Eric Clapton, may say on this issue;
sheriffs, deputies, and all else, notwithstanding, YO YO YO!
MORIANITY-2
JEWELLY
WHITE'S CALENDAR 2, DAY 00020, BLOG-A
COMING
OFF TWO STRAIGHT CUNT LAPPING BOTBARS!
2:41
AM-EST, MARK WAYNE MOHR RECORDING AND REPORTING, FOR THE RECORD, ON
THE RECORD, AND BY THE RECORD; WITH OR WITHOUT PRESIDENT-16, OR THE
SECRET CURSE OF HIS MIGHTY SAND BROOM WITCH, FROM 1844, MISS SHEN.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
I
went to sleep around one this morning, and awoke around quarter shy
of two to a horrible diareah attack and a nasty mess to clean up,
AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Attack number 2283, since 1986, give
or take a few bad ones forgotten about. Again, my argument still
stands, would someone really still be alive if something this serious
was wrong with their health all of these 30 long fucking cunt years
now, and the answer is obvious as the next sunrise, an unequivocal
GIGANTIC FRIKKIN NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Funny
too folks, I was 'dreaming' to use your way of expressing the human
experience of not being awake but being alive physically, about being
told how chains are made up of links, as in hyperlinks and connecting
up things on the internet. WOW, do forces in the M-2-F hate me
learning anything, experiencing anything, and most of all, having any
pleasure or happiness in the tiniest smallest fucking way ever. I pay
for it ten fold every single time, with clockwork time piece Swiss
accuracy precision, Henry Pardon Cursewords Fonda, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, if I fucking had a dollar for
every attack on this computer and every virus or T-horse or whatever,
I'd be a millionaire, YO!
Well,
if things persist the way they have been going between and one and
three fucking cunt of the clock this Thursday afternoon, this WILL BE
ANOTHER BOTBAR, AND TIMES CUNT LAPPING THREE.
All
was quiet until the early afternoon with these diseased fucking jerk
off nabes across the hall from me. Then so far, three attacks have
followed, quick bursts, then separated by short in-between small
periods of time, let me break it the cock sucking hell down for you,
and for the fucking record, folks.
At
5 minutes past 1 this afternoon, came a 15 second major loud blast
from their NOT REMOVED SUBWOOFERS.
Then again, it happened, right shy a minute or so of half past one.
Then the third strike on me, were some doors, at about a quarter shy
of three, followed by a real loud slamming door. Again for a half
hour, all is quiet over there again. Still, after all this shit, and
after already having two fucking cunt preexisting BOTBAR DAYS; ''I
AM'' now holding at a BOTBAR X 2, on this day, January the tenth,
twenty mother fucking thirteen.
It
is now a quarter shy of five. All afternoon, these dirt bags have
been in and out and making noise, not real bad, just enough to be
really mildly fucking cunt annoying. They did their subwoofer hit a
third time, more than ever yet in one day since this all started in
Sepfuckingtember. Soon, I'll be out on Hutchinson Island visiting my
pal, Mike Patterson. We are getting together to discuss our project,
as Saturday and weekends in general right now are bad, as he is a
real football fan, and playoff season is here. Speaking of sports,
things do not look fucking good for me, as just as in 1995, they are
talking about bringing a short hockey season into play soon. This is
probably why both 1995 and all of recent times have been so fucking
bad, and I just knew deep fucking down, that I would not get an
entire season off from the FLYERS HICKEY HOCKEY LONG-LING FONDA MOVIE
HARASSMENT AND PERSECUTION, and I was fucking right, huh lovely giant
Gina?????????????????????????????
I
got a major premonition not to go to the island to Mikey's beach
house, and called him to postpone my visit. I wish now I had not
listened to my inner voice, or the mind control beams transmitted to
me from WOMO enemies perhaps, who can know these things with
certainty? I was going to leave at a quarter shy of seven, and
instead, stayed home and watched, “The Mentalist” on television.
During this time, around half past seven, the scum bag nabes slammed
back into their fucking noisy ass apartment, shouting loudly as well,
but it only seemed to last a few minutes. It is now three minutes
past eight on this mild evening, here in Fort Pierce, Florida, and
things right at this point have quieted back down again. I no sooner
typed this, and again I am hearing shouting from within that dirt bag
apartment over there. These jerk offs are the worst uncouth scum bags
that I could possibly be living across from. This is the way it has
always been, all of my life however. There is always some horrible
mother fucker that moves next door to me, if I am down real low, and
forced to reside in a mother fucking apartment setting. It is every
single cunt lapping time. I will call the police if these bastards
don't stop this fucking all day noise, as I am getting fucking real
dam sick of this fucking
shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY
2
JEWELLY
WHITE'S CALENDAR 2 (JWC2) DAY 00021, BLOG-A
2:46
AM-EST, Friday Mouuuuuuuuuuuuuurning, YO!
THESE
CRUMB BAG NABES ARE IN AND OUT A LOT BETWEEN 2 AND 3 AM TODAY AND
HAVE BEEN NOISY NOW FOR THREE FUCKING CUNT DAYS NOW, DEBBIE MAROTTO.
HOPEFULLY, YOU WILL BE WATCHING THROUGH THE SECURITY SURVEILANCE
TAPES OF THIS SIXTH FLOOR WEST SIDE HALLWAY.
I'll
be putting lots of secret shit down on this blog over the next few
days, and will hopefully have this posted up sometime next week, from
my local fucking ass library, YO!!
I
am going to go into a deep trance and do some real digging around for
major information about my WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES, back later on.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Between
half past ten and quarter shy of eleven this morning, the doors and
the dirt bags started, waking me up, and also, with a sore throat. I
see some dissipating chemtrailing off to the west of me that caused
this while I was sleeping, obviously. I was in a parallel universes
where people were talking about me and wanted me to be some
spokesperson for something after they heard some song that I had
posted onto the Youtube, and then found out that I use too much fowl
language. It was a very interesting experience. I would not be
interested in any kind of public stuff anyway, it is not my thing.
Also, my very uncomfortable bed mattress makes my back sore, and when
I sleep on it wrong, exacerbates the problem, such as last night. I
managed to squeeze out yesterday, just over the one-one mark and
ended a two day botbar streak, and this day, as yesterday, is not
starting out well at all, but hopefully can be somewhat fucking
salvageable. SLAM SLAM BOOM BANG CRASH, THESE FUCKING JERK OFFS ARE A
PAIN IN MY FUCKING ASSHOLE TODAY, it is all day long, slamming the
door, in and fucking cunt lapping out. It began in the morning, and
is working all throughout this day. If I had more money for gasoline,
I would take a ride to a park, and get away from these scum bags, and
enjoy doing GAWNUM EQUATIONS at a park bench. I may go to the
library, and do this anyway, it is only a round trip of a mile, and I
can afford ten or fifteen cents in gasoline for this trip, and away
from these cock suckers. I am holding another neighbor-caused fucking
BOTBUR, and most botbur days, do end up going full blown mother
fucking botbar. I think I am going downstairs to see Debbie when she
gets back from lunch shortly, to ask her if she is looking at the
monitor, as well as further discuss the visitor and computer
situation from the eighteenth of December. I will also remind her
that when the new building is built, I do not want to be on the same
fucking cunt floor with these scum bag nabes across the hall for
me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK,
this is beyond fucking absurd, let me get down to Debbie Marotto';s
fucking office, and see if she can see in the monitor, just how many
continuous times these bastards are slamming in and out of their
fucking cunt lapping unit.
A
lot is happening. First off, I AM UNDER A MAJOR ATTACK FROM ABOVE,
YES FOLKS, THE SKIES ARE ALIVE, AND FILLED WITH THE
FUCKING CHEMTRAILS
TODAY. So forget about the hills of Julie Andres,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, forget about the old plan of posting up my
blogs via CDR writable disk, as I was put onto the simple idea of
using zip drives, now small
memory little key chain whistles are about 3-10
dollars at the local fucking Walmart, so I merely save my
document blog to that, and plug it into the library internet
computers, and post up my blogs once a week, until I can afford to
have Comcast Cable, restore my full triple service again on the first
week in cunt eating April of this twenty-thirteen year. Slowly, I am
learning, but I refuse to be a part of this new age, and am having
the FACEBOOK wiped. This means only a ghost account with a faceless
image is up there under my name, and no more Facebook. This will be
done very soon, as I have been put onto many wonderful things, and
people who live here in this building, such as the man who used to
work for freaking DELL COMPUTERS. Also, many of the noise today, was
not who I thought it was, but a recently moved in tenant was bringing
some stuff into their apartment and that is why so much in and out
activity has been occurring. I now am going to enjoy some Breyers Ice
Freaking Cream, and watch some tapes and DVD movies and enjoy the
rest of my dam ass day, YO, so trail away, as my sore throat is fine
now after taking some throat lozenges and lots of icy cold fucking
water, you bastard civil rights violators. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
No one wanted to hear my music, and all views on YOUTUBE were merely
generated with my attaching of hyperlinks to my blogging accounts at
Wordpress and Blogger. So screw everybody, and I will live my own
life, enjoy my own music, tell my life story as it is ever ongoing
and frikkin progressing, and ignore the entire world and especially
the Entertainment world. They to me are all a bunch of thieving,
conniving, idiotic no talented fools, with nothing more than old worn
out Geritol ideas, remade over and over onto even more worn out
Geritol shows. FUCK-U! Yes sir/mahm, this has been one hell of a
special, noisy, and yes, even quite a “WEIRD” day, and remember
that weird days are to be taken as WEIRD 4 ME, and that Sally fucking
Harner, is ''SAYING SOMETHING'' HERE, BRO. YES AT 2 MINUTES SHY OF
THE CLOSING WALL STREET BELL, 3:58 PM-EST, A NASTY FUCKING FIRE
ALSARM IS GOING OFF, IT IS NOW ONE MINUTE PAST FOUR THIS LATE FUCKING
fRODAY ASS AFTERNOON, and I still am not handing the dirt bag scum
ball OTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE, a BOTBAR, it is very very fucking BOTBUR and
if this was bedtime, it would have to close BOTBAR, just like a
football game with their running out the clock tactics, but it is not
three in the dam morning and I have about eleven hours to go, and as
told earlier, many good things resulted to compensate for all of this
dam noise. As I speak/type now at 4:03, the fire alarm is OFF, TEE
HEE HEE, Lilly Munster Shipyard Andrews, and oh oh oh, here it starts
again at just shy of four minutes past four. Now it is off again. I
do not see why another fucking fire alarm test is being done, when
one was just fucking done ten days or so ago. All day long hallway
noise, shouting, talking, continuous doors, but as I said, it is
coming from all three units, the one directly across from me, SIR
JAMES and his lady over at rapper woofer unit number 608, as well as
the unit on each side of his place, totaling three in all, YO. Also,
speaking of rap and woofers, the box is out again, and they are ve3ry
close to being 10-day ordered out if they try sneaking it back just
to harass me with those quick five-twenty tone bursts. It is not done
to enjoy their so-called NOISE-MUSIC, but to persecute and annoy the
piss juice out of poor little fucking me. Yes, I had a great lengthy
talk with Office Manager Debbie earlier, and that is all that needs
to be said for now. As for the smoke alarm shit, it went on and off
twice, and seems to have now abated, sir landfill Peter, over at Post
120, Assets Protection Security, in Pennsylvania, just northwest of
Tulleytown. No fire truck was ever here. If it is only a small amount
of smoke, many times the alarm will go off automatically if the unit
is quickly vented out with a fan and opened windows. Today is very
mild and warm for middle January, even in this part of the state of
Florida, and opening windows when cooking is advisable, unless peeps
cook slowly, keep their stove-tops and even real nice and frikkin
clean, and remember to use their ventilation fan over the stove top
in their kitchens, YO. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
OK
folks, AS I SAID, AND JUST AS I TOLD YOU TOO, LOVELY GIANT GINA, THE
DOW JONES FLEW THIS WEEK, UP EVERY DAY, AND ONLY FUCKING
CUNT INCHES AWAY NOW FROM ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, AT AROUND 13 AND A
HALF THOUSAND COCK LICKING POINTS. THIS IS DONE BY NO OTHER MEANS
OTHER THAN BY THE ENDLESS, AND RELENTLESS, MOTHER FUCKING
PERSECTUION, OF ONE, MARK WAYNE MOHR;
AND THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FUCKING NOW, EVER SINCE AUGUST, OF CUNT
EATING NINETEEN-EIGHTY-SIX!!!!!!!!!!! If I am not mistaken, it was up
EVERY SINGLE DAY THIS WEEK, and
these fucking jerk off peeps around me, MADE MY CUNT EATING LIFE A
TOTAL FUCKING NIGHTMARE HELL, EVERY SINGLE DAY; PLUS I WENT INTO
SYSTEMS FAILURE WITH MY ROULETTE; AS 'YOU
ALL SHOULD KNOW BY NOW'; RIGHT MISTER BILLY JOEL?
FORGET ISLAND GIRLS, SIR ELTON, I AM SPEAKING TO THE ISLAND BOY RIGHT
NOW, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!
IF
THINGS PROGRESS ONWARDS, IN THIS FUCKED UP DIRECTION FOR ME; THIS
YEAR OF 2013, WILL BE EVEN FUCKING CUNT LAPPING
WORSE THAN TWENTY MOTHER FUCKING TWELVE, something that I
would have bet my life, and your life, just could not possibly
fucking happen; and I'd have been totally fucking
wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Even as I cunt
lapping speak now at 34 minutes past six, loud shouting and doors are
going on AGAIN in the hallways, and YES, it is all being fucking
monitored, by management. Still, until they clean fucking house on
this sixth floor southwest side of this PH Building, it is all for
fucking cunt naught, BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Well,
by the skin of the teeth, this is not BOTBAR X 4, but it is a
fucking cock sucking BOTBAR X 1.
So now, I have two fucking nasty SUPER
BOTBAR DAYS, followed by a near miss BOTBAR on
yesterday the tenth, but I never ever MOTHER FUCKING CAN GET A
JANUARY OR A NOVEMBER
ELEVENTH, that does not
end up super mother fucking cunt ass B—O—T—B—A—R!!!!!!!
The answer of course is blatantly fucking obvious to any real true
followers of MOUNTAINPEN & MORIANITY. IT IS EITHER A NUMERICAL
DATE OF ''ONE-ONE-ONE'', AS IS TODAY; OR IF IT IS THE NOVEMBER DATE,
IT IS EVEN WORSE WITH FOUR ONES, ''ONE-ONE-ONE-ONE'', AND NO, I
WON'T FUCKING EVEN WRITE THESE DIGITS OUT TOGETHER, as
things are totally mother fucking bad enough right now in my hellish
nightmare fucking ass life, without me doing more fucking shit to
heighten, and strengthen, and worsen, my diseased, twisted, &
totally fucking screwed up, HUNTINGTON GOD DAM CURSE, YO,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00017, BLOG-B
NOISY
DAY, BUT PASSABLE
All
morning, there were FIRE-ALARM tests ongoing here. ATHIESTS ARE HALF
RIGHT AND SO ARE THE CHRISTIANS, AND THEREIN LIES THE ETERNAL
STRUGGLE OF P. EARTH.
6:52
AM, 01/07/13-MONDAY MORNING
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00017, BLOG-A
5:35
AM-EST here in Fort Pierce, Florida, blogger Mark Wayne Mohr,
recording and reporting for the official record of Mountainpen and
Morianity.
Here
are the details of the eighteenth day of last December in 2012, 2
weeks before the New Year of 2013 began, when I had the young dude
over here to help me post up the techno-pop song that was originally
an old 1983 song, slightly altered with rewritten lyrical content,
now titled, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, on
the YOUTUBE, for a short while longer until two weeks from
today when both my FACEBOOK and my YOUTUBE accounts, will be down
forever, and no more ME, will ever be publicly displayed again, on
this silly fool tool, called the
INTERNET.
OK,
you want it, you've got it. Here is what happened to me that day, and
what has happened since, with this strange dude whose name is Dennis.
This
young man of about twenty-three, give or take a couple years either
way, was already at the local library, when I arrived and asked for
some technical help with my problem, from library staff. It was as
though he was just there for the purpose of my visit that day, and
did not have anything that he really needed or wanted to do at his
computer terminal. He overheard me talking to the tech support lady,
at his computer terminal, near the upstairs reference desk; and just
offered to help, on his terminal-time. When it was eventually
ascertained that we could not make it work, not due to library
filtering, but YOUTUBE/GOOGLE policy of not allowing post ups from
public terminals, and more proof of prejudice against the poor
people, as YOUTUBE is totally against all poor people that cannot pay
them between 25 and 100 dollars A DAY for them to promote you on the
fixed and what should be illegal game, as this was once considered to
be, PAYOLA, in the music
industry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I should know, coming from right outside and
east of Philadelphia, the famous spot where PAYOLA was named for, as
this is where it started decades ago, before it became cracked down
on hard by many so-called governmental authorities, but then the same
thing goes on, just cleverly and covertly, as promoters who are hired
by all the major recording labels, merely give gifts/material
possessions, vacations, prizes, drugs, and I could say more; in
exchange for boosting new material from major recording companies, up
through the normal ranks of rotation. Well, the YOUTUBE is absolutely
the same, and not one bit different at all. It is all a GOOGLE
advertising stunt, and a way for them to
make billions of dollars, for doing nothing but
circulating your stuff to more sources, and even if you were to get a
viral video, you don't get one cent back in return, for your many
many thousand dollars of investment, and if this is not a crooked
thing that should be stopped, I don't know what is; and so I will be
off these social garbage networking sites completely and forever, in
two weeks from this very day, now Monday, as Ryan, will be taking it
all down. The world had its chance to really know the greatest story
ever told, a million times more powerful than Christianity, and I
am not afraid to tell the TRUTH, as the truth can never
get you into eternal trouble, merely Earthly Crucified. I don't worry
about what the WOMO-MILITFUCE can do to my physical plane attached
body. I only concern myself with what this force can do to my endless
existence, making that total hell, or a beautiful heaven. The
All Mighty GOOGLE
admitted, that YOUTUBE is
total PAY TO PLAY, and that once, in music and
entertainment circles, this was considered, a totally illegal
operation; and should be again. There is no place on the entire
internet, set up to judge real musical talent, and then if and as
something rates well, it is circulated more, and as it slides down,
circulated less. This is how your music world Billboard Charts
operate, but no, not these new owners of everything, good old crooked
GOOGLE, and their avarice and greed, for major massive endless
wealth.
As
for the FACEBOOK crap, peeps
continually ask me to friend them, that I do not know, yet if I do
this, I am warned that this is strictly against policy, and I have to
go through a major series of agreement clicks, that pull all of the
friend requests off. They can do it, and I cannot, FCC, so WHY? So my
letter to you will be in this afternoon's mailing system,
old school pal, Bobby McDowell, of 1972. When things are not only not
fair, but blatantly crooked and stacked against me to keep me from
ever being able to use this new age social media, this in a legal
argument, is attempted murder. If you cannot buy or sell, and in this
new age, without being a part of all of this, you are left basically
out in the cold, then that is ARGUABLY ATTEMPTED MURDER, and I will
be making new case law, and spending lots of my time soon, at the
local LAW LIBRARY, just down the frikkin street from our
local regular library, right here in East Fort Pierce. Also, no one
is willing to explain or tell me anything, or help me one tiny bit,
and I am supposed to just know as though by total magic or mental
osmosis, somehow; how all of this works, and what all of their all
mighty rules and regulations are. Well, I will do you one better. I
plan to sue GOOGLE within a year, for literally
preventing me, from telling my story to the world; and this is a
blatant egregious violation of my FIRST AMMENDMENT
CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS to freedom of speech, to
indeed tell this story of my life, both in my writing texts, as well
as in my corresponding musical writings as well.
Now,
as for this strange man, who had the personality of a robot: He said
very little, and once we left the apartment, and the song was posted
up, he would not even speak to me, all the way back to the library
where my car was parked, as we took his car from there to my place.
He ignored me completely, and I knew that something was wrong. I did
nothing or said nothing to prompt that weird action on his part
NOTHING. Still we already had
exchanged telephone numbers, back at the library previously; and so a
week later, I called him, and when he would not answer, I left a
voicemail message, that I would be at the Publix here in town, where
he works at, to pay him a short visit and give him his ten dollar
payment for helping me. I got there on the third, the day my SSD
money was credited to my checking account, and he just about totally
ignored me again, for no reason. He finally said, “I'll call you
tonight”. He of course did not, and I would have bet big money that
he would not. On the following day I called him to tell him I wanted
to pay him what I owed him, and did not get his voicemail, but a
special message blocking my number, saying that the customer is not
taking calls, this is a blocking, I am pretty sure. Fine, be a prick,
I was going to pay you ten dollars, but since you don't want the
money, well, I can use it, BRO. For whatever reason, he wants nothing
more to frikkin do with me, but the story does not end there, and far
from it. You see L-4, while he was here, in fact he had just got into
the apartment, and two minutes or less afterward, a knock on the door
came, an African American male, about thirty years give or take, a
large man, told me he is looking for some person, and he gave me a
name, but at the time, it was of no interest to me, so I admit to
forgetting it, and then he asked about another name, and then a third
name; and when I responded with three 'no' answers, he then said, “Do
you live here?”, right to me, right at my door, with me inside of
my own apartment. I said that I did, and closed the door on him. I
reported the incident to Debbie Morotto, and it's being looked into.
I get a visitor over here, and shit immediately starts.
Another CROW coincidence?
I somehow really don't think so dudes and duddesses out here reading
these words. Would you be buying into all of this fucking bullshit if
it was all happening to you, and not just once or twice or thrice,
but for nearly 30 mother fucking years now without let up,
YO???????????????????????? I am making plans to leave Florida all
together, but not for Mexico, as
this I have come to learn from reliable sources, that are not anyone
else's business for right now; that my enemies, or the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE; wants me to do
just this, SO FORGET
IT. I am going back home, to where I
belong; that was home, this is HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I never said
my life back in cunt lapping New Jersey was heaven, not by a fucking
ass long shot folks; but it wasn't total death-land Florida either,
YO!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Well
peeps, it is past me' ol' frikkin whittle bed-time, YO. Keep doing
shit to me, and I'll go on reporting it, forever!!!!
You
think I do not know about the 7.5 Alaskan Earthquake?
MORIANITY-2
(MASTER COPY FOR CAPPING)
TWO
YOUTUBE LINKS OF DECEMBER TWENTY TWELVE
Governor
Jesse Ventura talks about time travel, in ways that totally connect
up with stuff from my own personal life; including the chance that
his own distant relative, Salvador, was sent to me in 1965, to show
me, and not Miss Wescott; how to tap my fingers in really cool ways,
so that 'lightning' will respond to this, up in 1983; on a telephone
receiver.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC
TRACK
ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.
To
sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog, and click the
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555; and scroll down until the page comes up
with the words to the song, YO.
VIDEO
LINKS FOR BLOGS, FROM YOUTUBE POSTINGS:
VIDEO
LINKS TO BLOG FROM YOUTUBE:
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Then
afterward, right up through now at nearly half past four PM, on
January 7, 2013, my across the hall scum bag neighbors, all though
not real loud, have been talking in the hallways and opening and
closing doors, all day long. What
ignorant,
arrogant, asshole, shit heads.
Moving
along, my electronic-mailing address should be gone any day now along
with my entire internet service. I cannot afford to keep it, unless I
do this temporary ninety day cancellation, that will save me, or
actually; compensate for my 60 dollar car registration fee, back on
my birthday last December 4, and then directly following that; my
break pad repair, as they busted and locked up, and the car could not
be driven. So this was where another 120 dollars went into, totaling
$180.00. So anyone e-mailing me soon, will get one of those screens
telling them that their message was unable to be delivered. I have
been too busy with my fight with the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
and family hell, and nightmare nabe problems; to do anything. I also
will be forever off that silly 'FACEBOOK' My
account will be down and closed, and good riddance. I'm not a social
person, I need no friends, and I love to be alone and all by myself.
This is just the way that I am, and is no different than my being
extremely ugly, or old, or fat, or short. 'These
are just realities', Dennis Snyder, my
son!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll also be removing my silly stupid
criminally run, 'YOUTUBE'. I refuse to
give billionaires my tiny little share of Social Security disability
money, as this is all that I have to live on each month, you greedy,
avaricious, mercenary, dirt bag corporate giants, without any
humanity. No wonder you run a robotic automaton operation. You are
soulless and inhuman bastards; and the entire world is nothing but
robots now anyway. I WANT NO PART OF THIS JUNK!!!
Better
still, I am thinking of taking this personal computer over to the
jetty one night, and throwing it to the bottom of the ocean. It is a
stupid game, society is stupid, and count me out of it. I will be
leaving this galaxy and moving far away in time as well, just as soon
as I take care of some unfinished business, like blowing up a few
worlds that have done me wrong. You make me ill and angry, all those
stuck in ignorance and pathetic old style thought processes. Still
that's your right and I'd fight and die to keep these rights for all
of us, anytime and anywhere; but I still need to escape this place
forever, and am making plans for a very long trip, off of a very
short pier. Don't say I did not try and warn you of the future, all
though it gets pretty cool at first, is nothing but doom and despair,
and dark and dismal. It is those in the twenties and teens that I
feel sorry for, as their world, after the oil runs out, will be worse
than they can ever imagine. Oh the gods, will you be suffering.
BYE-BYE CALL-10-AT&T, and all of you miserable rotten job gods.
Yeah, 'you all were no ED GREEN'S', that's for sure. Poor Danny Quale
back late in the eighties. I could not imagine standing up, taking
that much public humiliation; Kennedy or no freaking Kennedy.
WOW!!!
Silly
to post this up, it is coming down in ten days.
I'll
be crossing over, Scylla, and then lovely one, you just feel totally
free to own the land, right © Office of 1983? And there is no such
thing as STM, huh? Well if these 7-years of blogs do not dispel that
frikkin myth, what does, MAYANS? No more visits now, please, Viqueen
Jewelly, Jeese Louise!!
3/4/3/4/3/4/3/4/3/4/time
to rest a while, Sky, so BYE-BYE, and see you later too, Doogie
Howser, as this is not my problem, not any frikkin longer, DOG, so
WOLF-WOLF, 'NITROBEY'!!!!!
Where
are you when I need you and your museum secrets, Roy Carl Weiler,
Senior? For that matter, where are you when I need you, Mister
Orwell, YO??????????? Enjoy all of my expensive stuff, Ann King. Your
entire group are a bunch of totally soulless crumbs, and tell Daut
Dawn, she needs a mirror when she trash talks poor old me. Well,
first she needs a laser retrace machine; as the systems today can
only bring back music and movies, so go visit the great and
illustrious World Laboratories of the twenty-two-eighties, and maybe
steal one of those bigger shoe boxes, but you will need one of Robert
McGuire or Mister Cannon's smaller shoe boxes to get you there, in
the first place. Again with the W---------O---------W!!!!!!!!!
My
roulette is kicking major butt, folks!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
You
ain't seen shit yet, as on the fucking twenty-second, everything
totally mother fucking crashed completely!!!!!!!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00017, BLOG-A
5:35
AM-EST here in Fort Pierce, Florida, blogger Mark Wayne Mohr,
recording and reporting for the official record of Mountainpen and
Morianity.
Here
are the details of the eighteenth day of last December in 2012, a
week before the New Year of 2013 began, when I had the young dude
over here to help me post up the techno-pop song that was originally
an old 1983 song, slightly altered with rewritten lyrical content,
now titled, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, on
the YOUTUBE, for a short while longer until two weeks from
today when both my FACEBOOK and my YOUTUBE accounts, will be down
forever, and no more ME, will ever be publicly displayed again, on
this silly fool tool, called the INTERNET.
OK,
you want it, you've got it. Here is what happened to me that day, and
what has happened since, with this strange dude whose name is Dennis.
This
young man of about twenty-three, give or take a couple years either
way, was already at the local library, when I arrived and asked for
some technical help with my problem, from library staff. It was as
though he was just there for the purpose of my visit that day, and
did not have anything that he really needed or wanted to do at his
computer terminal. He overheard me talking to the tech support lady,
at his computer terminal, near the upstairs reference desk; and just
offered to help, on his terminal-time. When it was eventually
ascertained that we could not make it work, not due to library
filtering, but YOUTUBE/GOOGLE policy of not allowing post ups from
public terminals, and more proof of prejudice against the poor
people, as YOUTUBE is totally against all poor people that cannot pay
them between 25 and 100 dollars A DAY for them to promote you on the
fixed and what should be illegal game, as this would once be
considered to be, 'PAYOLA',
in the music industry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I should know, coming from right
outside of, and east of Philadelphia, the famous spot where PAYOLA
was named for as this is where it started, decades ago; before it
became cracked down on hard, by many so-called governmental
authorities; but then the same thing goes on, just cleverly and
covertly; as promoters who are hired by all the major recording
labels, merely give gifts/material possessions, vacations, prizes,
drugs, and I could say more; in exchange for boosting new material
from major recording companies, up through the normal ranks of
rotation. Well, the YOUTUBE is absolutely the same, and not one bit
different at all. It is all a GOOGLE advertising stunt, and a way
for them to make billions of dollars, for doing
nothing but circulating your stuff to more sources, and even if you
were to get a viral video, you don't get one cent back in return, for
your many many thousand dollars of investment, and if this is not a
crooked thing that should be stopped, I don't know what is; and so I
will be off these social garbage networking sites completely and
forever, in two weeks from this very day, now Monday, as Ryan, will
be taking it all down. The world had its chance to really know the
greatest story ever told, a million times more powerful than
Christianity, and I am not afraid to tell that TRUTH, as the truth
can never get you into eternal trouble, merely Earthly Crucified. I
don't worry about what the WOMO-MILITFUCE
can do to my physical plane attached body. I only concern myself with
what this force can do to my endless existence, making that total
hell, or a beautiful heaven. The All Mighty
GOOGLE
admitted, that YOUTUBE is
total PAY TO PLAY, and that, at one time, in music and
entertainment circles; was totally considered, an illegal operation;
and should be again. There is no place on the entire internet, set up
to judge real musical talent; and then if and as something rates
well, it is circulated more, and as it slides down, circulates less.
This is how your music world Billboard Charts operate, but no, not
these new owners of everything, good old crooked GOOGLE, and their
avarice and greed, for major massive endless wealth.
As
for the FACEBOOK crap, peeps
continually ask me to friend them, that I do not know, yet if I do
this, I am warned that this is strictly against policy, and I have to
go through a major series of agreement clicks, that pull all of the
friend requests off. They can do it, and I cannot, FCC, so WHY? So my
letter to you will be in this afternoon's mailing system,
old school pal, Bobby McDowell, of 1972. When things are not only not
fair, but blatantly crooked and stacked against me to keep me from
ever being able to use this new age social media; this in a legal
argument, is attempted murder. If
you cannot buy or sell, and in this new age, without being a part of
all of this, you are left basically out in the cold, then that is
ARGUABLY ATTEMPTED MURDER, and I
will be making new case law, and spending lots of my time soon, at
the local LAW LIBRARY, just down
the frikkin street from our local regular library, right here in East
Fort Pierce. Also, no one is willing to explain or tell me anything,
or help me one tiny bit, and I am supposed to just know, as though by
total magic or mental osmosis,
somehow; how all of this works, and what all of their all mighty
rules and regulations are. Well, I will do you one better. I
plan to sue GOOGLE within a year, for literally
preventing me, from telling my story to the world; and this is a
blatant egregious violation of my FIRST
AMMENDMENT CIVIL AND CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS
to freedom of speech, to indeed tell this story of my life; both in
my writing texts, as well as in my corresponding musical writings as
well.
Now,
as for this strange man, who had the personality of a robot: He said
very little, and once we left the apartment, and the song was posted
up, he would not even speak to me, all the way back to the library
where my car was parked, as we took his car from there to my place.
He ignored me completely, and I knew that something was wrong. I did
nothing or said nothing to prompt that weird action on his part
NOTHING. Still we already had
exchanged telephone numbers, back at the library previously; and so a
week later, I called him, and when he would not answer, I left a
voicemail message, that I would be at the Publix here in town, where
he works at, to pay him a short visit and give him his ten dollar
payment for helping me. I got there on the third, the day my SSD
money was credited to my checking account, and he just about totally
ignored me again, for no reason. He finally said, “I'll call you
tonight”. He of course did not, and I would have bet big money that
he would not. On the following day I called him to tell him I wanted
to pay him what I owed him, and did not get his voicemail, but a
special message blocking my number, saying that the customer is not
taking calls. This is a blocking, I am pretty sure. Fine, be a prick.
I was going to pay you ten dollars, but since you don't want the
money, well, I can use it, BRO. For whatever reason, he wants nothing
more to frikkin do with me, but the story does not end there, and far
from it. You see L-4, while he was here, in fact he had just got into
the apartment, and two minutes or less afterward, a knock on the door
came, an African American male, about thirty years give or take, a
large man, telling me, he is looking for some person, and he gave me
a name; but at the time, it was of no interest to me; so I admit to
forgetting it; and then he asked about another name, and then a third
name; and when I responded with three 'no' answers; he then said, “Do
you live here?”, right to me, right at my door, with me inside of
my own apartment. I said that I did, and closed the door on him. I
reported the incident to Debbie Morotto, and it's being looked into.
I get a visitor over here, and shit immediately starts.
Another CROW coincidence?
I somehow really don't think so dudes and duddesses, out here,
reading these words. Would you be buying into all of this fucking
bullshit if it was all happening to you, and not just once or twice
or thrice, but for nearly 30 mother fucking years now without let up,
YO???????????????????????? I am making plans to leave Florida all
together, but not for Mexico, as
this I have come to learn from reliable sources, that are not anyone
else's business for right now; that my enemies, or the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE; wants me to do
just this, SO FORGET
IT. I am going back home, to where I
belong; that was home, this is HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I never said
my life back in cunt lapping New Jersey was heaven, not by a fucking
ass long shot folks; but it wasn't total death-land Florida either,
YO!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555
Well
peeps, it is past me' ol' frikkin whittle bed-time, YO. Keep doing
shit to me, and I'll go on reporting it, forever!!!!
You
think I do not know about the 7.5 Alaskan Earthquake?MOST
RECENT MORIANITY BLOGS, AS OF JANUARY 5, 2012
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00015, BLOG-A
It
is ten minutes shy of eight, on this Saturday evening. I enjoyed a
nice swim in the Atlantic Ocean over at Mikey's place, wearing only
my shorts, so as to prevent any more repeats and robberies such as
what did occur back on June 21, 2012. There were a few very low
planes and loud planes, the first loud one was not a low one, so it
was definitely MILI-2-FORCE, and that was while I was walking in the
PH Parking Lot, towards my car somewhere around 2:30 give or take a
few minutes, and the crash level quieter plane was right as I got to
the ocean on South Hutchinson Island and went to make my right turn
and drive towards Mikey's beach house. There were lots of giant girls
today on the beach, and many people were on the beach, many
sunbathers, and some were fishing, only a couple of people were water
wading. I dove in for a fifteen minute full blown swim, just to be
close to my wonderful awesome love. The world vanishes away when
SSJKK and I bond together. There could be a Trump beauty contest
going on right there, or a Mitch Baywatch contest from 2000, or even
a Miss whatever contest, along with naked gangs from all of the whore
houses in the county. I do not see anything, only my wonderful
unfathomable love, the Atlantic Ocean. So go sing your version of
Atlantic Queen, all you want to, Vasco, and kill all the Mayan's if
that is your goal and motive; as I am only interested in loving my
giant teen queen throughout eternity. When I got back, the police
were out at the parking lot of my building, and I came to learn that
there had been a domestic situation, and a large crowd had gathered.
I took my bag of laundry, that Mikey did for me over there, and just
walked on, and up the elevator, and into my sixth floor apartment,
not into the sixth dimension, all though, where would one really be
able to draw the elusive blurry line of distinction here with this?
Since
the siege is down, so too is the PC, just a beach filled with
oversized giant females, and I ignored them, and they ignored me; and
everybody was quite happy. When death siege picks up badly, an
entirely different scenario would play out on a beach, on an
unseasonably mild warm day for this time of the year, even in Fort
Pierce, Florida.
Folks,
I could tell you so many things, your mind would explode like a
frikkin bomb. Only I can know just how real and totally true this
statement really is, and believe me folks, I do know. You can doubt
(Astral Weak Nuclear Force), or you can choose the other force, you
can believe me, (Astral Strong Nuclear Force), as was previously
discussed on several of my blogs, back in 2012, and back in good old
MORIANITY-1. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
L-4,
I am going to take a shower, and fix a very small din-din, to quote
the marvelous and beyond talented, late Betty Davis, from the older
Hollywood days, right Aunt Maud Huntington Benjamin? I have a
dynamite roulette system, that if any of you were to use, who were
not going through a lifetime of beyond conceivable hell; you would
end up wiping the game of ROULETTE right off the frikkin maps, so I
am not going to tell you what I am now doing. This is my little
secret, and it is beyond awesome, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
Now
that we have a shower and a meal out of the way, it is on the dot of
nine of the clock on this somewhat all right night of Sir Elton
Saturday John. If you are young, don't worry, I'm not totally nuts,
and you have no clue what gets said many times, as you were not
around, and living in the sixties and the seventies, like
'DUHYUNDAI-2006' vehicles.
I
feel the need to touch on a few topics, and expand on them a bit
farther than I may have ever done back in Morianity-1. Before I do,
let me tell some mundane crappy things and get that all the hell out
of the way. First off, seeing ONES is on a real emmereffing roll
again lately, and gee-willagars-gash-1988, Copyright
Office Examiners, I weelwee wonder why, Mister Fwudd.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA, and wabbits, YO!!!!!!!!
Also,
for the past 48 hours, I have had a nasty intestinal bug or whatever,
or the results of another stealthy poison-gas attack from the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, as who can
ever know for sure, and be able to claim with frikkin certainly, what
is really going on with all of this nonsense and hellishness? BUT,
big ass BUTT, all puns and jokes and 36th Avenue hacks
aside, and Nitro Dogs, TOLD YOU-STM, but yes folks; many times there
are indeed, quite powerful and revealing clues and constants, if
you're really looking for them, or really, if
I AM, and without dogfood,
or 1987 YOUTUBE CHEMTRAILS, OR, and on
top of the list, annoying calling daughters. But alas, who believes
me and my wild incredible life, except for the black ops folks and
the trillionaries, who know all ready, that it's all true, mostly
because in one way or another, they have been in some way,
responsible for it happening to me in the first frikkin place, YO. So
yes peeps, this 48 hour super nasty shitting myself bug, can be
logically factored into the equation with stuff like, well, I was not
eating much food at all for two weeks and then suddenly I start to
feast a bit after my SSD money came in back on the third, and this
would indeed be a perfectly rational possible way of seeing this
nasty mess, but then; I've lived long enough and then some, to know
that every bit as much as this may be true, so also may be the fact
that this was either done with some sonic death beams, or chemtrails;
or any number of things that the WOMO has
done to me since 1986, to make me continually ill. Then
there is another follow up to this, on the heels of the word in the
previous sentence, 'continually'. No one can remain ill every other
day roughly, or somewhere thereabouts, and not have any systemic
reason for it to be the case. Ask any medical professional, or health
care provider, that you wish; as they will be forced to win my
argument with you, for me. As I speak, the jerk off scum bags across
the hall at eighteen past nine, are shouting incredibly loud, and the
doors are also starting up. But fear not, as all activity is
monitored with new systems, just not INSIDE the individual
apartments; and I have been totally promised that when things keep
happening, and especially after 11:59 PM, with these vulgar uncouth
pricks, action will be taken, IE, a thirty day eviction notice given,
and out they'll frikkin go. Now let us shift back into gear, and go
on with my blog, Opinion Permitting Michelle, and peeps from
nineteen-eighty. Aren't I just the super lucky one? WOW! Yes, either
I should have died decades ago from this endless physical attack from
this evil WOMO-MILITUFORCE, or
else it should have stopped, as no one just lives on and on with
serious shit hitting their body, from 1986-2013, and on into forever
perhaps; as who can frikkin know?
Here
is the huge thing that happened to me back on the third, while out
purchasing a little bit of gasoline for the car, and a little food
for the old bod. I went to a place near my local TD Bank, that does
not concern anyone, as enemies are messing with me on this matter;
and I need not get specific about shit right now, for my own dam
good, folks; but when I got there, thousands of big loud crows, were
all over me out of nowhere, and followed me after I exited this
location, down the road a ways to a local supermarket, the Winn Dixie
on Route One, here in town. The minute I walked in, and the crows
were still following me, on went their MUZAK system, and who started
playing and singing, but good old biker bitch of the nineties, the
rock star known as Cheryl 'CROW', again if I may folks, like,
W-----O-----W!
I
know that if this had happened just once or twice in my life, you
know, similar things to this, I could easily dismiss it as a
coincidence, but not when I can place my hand on a frikkin bible and
in all legality as well as total good conscience, swear that it is
more like numerous hundreds of times, and with each & every event
this spurious, weird, and unexplainable; individually enough; but in
this kind of continuous ongoing barrage of incidents; if you could
just dismiss this stuff, if it was happening in your life, for
nearly 27 years; then I'd worry about you, and yes, Mister John
Henningsen of 1969; ''it's just that simple'',
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SLAM, SLAM, Debbie, at 9:34 EST. Gear shift.
Man, I'll either wear out that clutch, or Stanley will keep me in an
eternal early 10-2008
MESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW!
Yes,
many secrets will be told soon, and any day now, my internet will be
off for about 90 days give or take a few days, so I will still blog
onto my open office 3.1 word system, and then put the text up onto a
CDR as I have a pile of blanks, and take a grouping of blogs, twice a
week to the local library down on the Indian River, on Melody Lane.
As my pal, Detective Fontanna told DT. Ed Green, after the L&O
train wreck, and the 'WHO'S YOUR DADDY' deal before it wrecked, and
speaking of secrets, “I'm fullofem pal”. Still, I did screw up
and say, the wife of Mary, or the husband of Joseph; and I forget now
which; but in rereading that blog later on, I realized that I meant
the opposite thing of course. Sorry about that Chief, but please
Agent-86, haven't you caused me enough total agony and grief with
that lovely and wonderful number???????????????????????????????????
Many
people know the songs and stuff that I did in the year of 1983, while
residing at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey. The June 21, 2008
interaction, where the future residence where I was to be Stockholm
Kidnapped into just two months later or less, in Middle August of
oh-8; was the backdrop for the area in the interaction, despite the
house being half a dozen miles or more to the east of this area, in
Hammonton, over on Middle Road, just past the Walmart Store, heading
towards where this road eventually crosses into Route 206, not over
thank the heavens. Anyone who has accessed my 1983 material, knows
these blogs are all the total truth, as to deny it, would be to admit
to lunacy, which is believing that by pure chance, I came up with
something that would have to be billions or more to one odds, against
this not being so. Just ask Pope Gregory-16. Or if you are close
enough to my wonderful awesome kid, ask her, but even though she is
honest as the day is long in Alaska in the summer; she is beyond
clever, and smarter than anyone I have ever met, who went ten full
years past high school; and which leads me quite happily to looking
back to a time when I gave some advice, and boy, thank heavens that I
only said to finish high school. This is all a joke, as we are
dealing with All Mighty Scylla, and anyone who perseveres through my
7 years of blogs, unabridged; can see this is totally the truth; and
that a billion Einstein dudes could not make stuff like this up, that
all just happens to perfectly fit; as this would violate the great
boy wonder philosopher of 1973, Mister Bruce Allan Pennock, of 2
Beaver Drive, in Barrington, New Jersey, back in those times, hell;
he could be in Southeast Jakarta now, for all I know BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well
my BLOGAUD, I truly want to thank you for being interested enough to
read the story of MORIANITY, both the long ONE blogs, and now the
early TWO part of this great project. Oh lovely Jewelly Viqueen
Somnambulist White, how I will always remember you, in very strange
ways, as Tennessee Avenue has ways of altering memories, and memory
alterations have connotations to the taboo subject of TIME
TRAVEL. No matter how
many fast ships, or shoe box machines, or worm holes, are ever used,
to play around with the altering of normal fourth dimensional flow;
the same thing is happening as would be with the ancient CHINESE and
their MIND TRAVEL VIA 64 hexagrams, that you will not find in the
library should you research the I-Ching, by the way, interestingly
enough. MIND alters, and MIND creates what is being altered to begin
with, whether it be from a physical, or a metaphysical mode of
traveling. It is just MIND CHANGING, and thus these ancient dynasties
from 3000-BCE all ready were told by great traveling MAYAN SOURCE
AGENTS, (MSA) that they were going to give to them a powerful
knowledge and wisdom, called, 'BOOK OF CHANGES'. The MIND
is what CHANGES,
and this true knowledge of infinite power, was lost or intentionally
burned out of existence by what race of people, gee, Ron Wirtz; you
told me to do my dam homework, and legwork; so are all of you gonna'
crucify me now for doing it????????????? WOW!
Even
the dam stuff that All Mighty Sound Distorter Jason Forrest put up
from my stolen early nineties cassette tapes; mentions a United
States town, that was named after an Egyptian capitol, intentionally;
by the owner-controllers that are on my
side of this fight and
army, as the 'LAWTRONICS' of cosmos, insists on leaving clues for
those who wish to do the RON WIRTZ
SENIOR LEGWORK ADVICE;
and this goes way past the completion of high school, or any of the
late seventies NASA sightings, of Super Men, Girls, or Curls. Still
laughing, Mike McNulty, BRRRRRRRR?????? Well then, you just go and
laugh on, AHA AHA AHA AHA AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This crack pot from a
place called Roddenberry, New Jersey, and all of his clues, and long
legwork; is signing off the grid for the day, and any day soon; my
blogs will be put up in only multiples, from the library, as I need
to save my money, and this is why my Comcast Cable Service had to go
into a 90-DAY cancellation, YO, folks. For now, brown cow, CALL-10
AT&T BLAKE/RAMBO CALLIO, I bid you a fond farewell!!!!!!!!
WELL,
IF I GET BEAT UP BY SSJKK, MAYBE I'LL BE ''CROSSING OVER'', AS HOW
LONG CAN ANYONE DREAM THAT THEY ARE AWAKE IN HYPERSPACE?
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00014, BLOG-B
10:05
PM-EST
MARK
WAYNE MOHR FROM FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
FORMERLY
KNOWN AS FROM BLUEBERRYVILLE HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, FOR YOU GOOGLE
FREAKS.
LADS,
LASSIES, LABBERS, AND LAB-DOGS, here it is, semi-short, definitely
sweet, and not totally simple, but I will promise to do my best, oh
great pilot of the 1979 airwaves.
25-45
years ago, every dam thing you now hear on channels on the television
line up system, such as Science Channel, or History-2 Channel, and
Nova, and along the lines of documentaries for the intelligent and
thinking folks; was all discussed by me, over an FBI-bugged
telephone, as my father was a part of some huge stuff that caused our
phone to be tapped since I was in grammar school, and not just from
his treasure salvage operations, but many other things as well. There
is no way, this information did not get spread around, and all of the
WORLD OWNERS or the 'WO', know very well, that I was ahead of the
awareness curve, to all of the wild crap now in circulation, on all
media sources, from the internet, the television; to any and all
other possibilities.
They
also have figured out that I remain far ahead of this average or
collective humanity awareness level, and so now, where stuff that you
now are seeing in real time is just being digested by you, I am where
you will be, roughly twenty years from now, and that is, realizing
that this entire thing is a huge dream out, from a void reality; as
how can anything be real, and where would it come from; and thus, the
only possible answer to all of the asked, as well as the unasked
questions; is that indeed, nothing is real? That is correct, NOTHING,
is what is real, so say it either way, and tease your brain; yet the
same thing is being said. However, what we do perceive around us
while seemingly awake in this tangible and 'caporial
material physical life and plane of existence', is a
DREAM; or a created experience, done with MIND, not yours or mine,
but a collective, that is one and the same thing with an actual
realm, known as the sixth dimension. If this dream is in the three
dimensions of length and width and height, and with the added item of
these three dimensions in motion, giving the fourth dimension of
time, and the time is not one reality but infinite possible lines of
experience; then pure simple math, tells us that this is the fifth
dimension, or the hyperspace; containing all of the virtually
unlimited parallel reality universes. So the signal that is sent into
this, that makes it an item of reality to experience and reference,
must be one dimension higher still, or the sixth. This is not some
silly blog about how to make up stupid junk, but to the contrary; it
is based on very accurate, and precise mathematical and scientific
data. But I will also admit, that merged and married into this part
of things, is the truth that my life has caused me the unusual
reality of becoming quite aware of these truths, and this very
awareness separates me from all of you; but not in distance, and not
in time; nor in a parallel reality; but in the dimension above all of
that, 'TRUTH', also known as the VOID,
or zero dimension. To begin a new column of mathematical numeration,
a previous grouping of 1-9, must lend itself back, to the inevitable
zero. This is why this is what it is, and works as it does; and is
why I am suffering and miserable; if I can compress an eternal
fucking story into a couple of pages of text, and that is a totally
absurd notion, that I most of all, completely realize, and fully well
know, that I'm just wasting my fucking time; but I have forever, so
really, who gives a fucking shit?
This
morning I was in Debbie Morotto's office, my resident manager, here
at this Public Housing Building. There will be a meeting of the
residents soon to discuss the do's and don'ts, and I'll be notified,
not with the usual notice stuck on the outside door slants, as she
knows that the scum bags across the hall will remove it. They are in
and out a lot with normal Friday fucking partying, but as long as
music is low, and doors are not slamming; then I have no problem with
their asshole normal activities. Still, one thing cannot be glossed
over here people, and that is, that ever since my WILD CRAZY CHAIN
INTERACTION, back in middle late September of last year, these dirt
bag nabes have totally changed their behavior, and as bad as they
used to be, on a dime, they suddenly turned on me like a fucking
World War ll 'Comocosi' pilot, and yes, it is misspelled; and the
cheap piece of fucking shit Spell-Checker,
is its usual good for nothing, no help at all.
All
of this leads straight back to my original point on this blog, the
real truth of why this nightmare is, and always has been, unfolding
around fucking me.
Why
am I so different from other people, and why am I being treated so
wickedly by the co-inhabitants of this hostile fucking diseased
planet, all of my fucking dam ass life; when I do nothing to warrant
this wicked evil shit from fucking scum ball people? Why am I unable
to ever catch the smallest break in the world of business, or social
stuff; or anything, that normal mother fucking human beings, take for
granted; and act like it is nothing, when to me; doing the smallest
task, is made to appear totally fucking herculean? Then these scum
bags that have stalked me all my life because of my father, and the
gods only fucking cunt know what other things, wonder why I would
sell my FUCKING CUNT SOUL TO THE DEVIL, if I indeed had a 'soul', and
if there indeed was a real 'devil'; to be able to make this entire
world explode into about nine vigintillion tiny pieces of
dogshit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, despite the WOMO-MILITUFORCE
enemies, keeping me from both living any kind of a normal life, as
well as ever being able to learn just exactly what is causing this,
and why it is all happening to me; there is a balancing constant,
where some things do, praise the fucking lords; seem to take a form
and a shape, and not just remain nameless, faceless, fucking matter.
Following a lot of facts for a long time, led me to lots of fucking
shit, but that is nothing. That does not even take me close to ending
this horrific fucking HUNTINGTON
CURSE,
as I have come to label my personal condition, and position in my
rotten ass family that is 4,000 traceable years old, way more than
the Rocky's, the Built's, the Trump's, or the Macy's, or any of them
all put together; and you can grow the list as long as your arm for
all I care. So these words are a direct letter/message, to the father
of a now government employee, at the CAMDEN COUNTY PROSECUTOR'S
OFFICE, in Camden, New Jersey, USA-ES-MWG, Ron Wirtz Jr. Just exactly
why you played your game with me and especially at the end, I'll
never know, Ron, kind sir, but you have to admit one thing, pal. I
obeyed you, and I followed your fucking advice to the dam letter. I
followed the facts, or as you said, I did my legwork. All I did since
all this started, was what YOU
TOLD ME TO DO,
and I broke no physical plane laws with any physical plane tools or
weaponry, and of course, this is why this blog is not being posted up
from jail, and only why, as we both know, kind sir; my enemies would
fucking salivate, to see me in an orange jumpsuit, cuffed, and in a
6X9 cell with some bozo. I think what you did was what you had to do,
and that is why I do not totally hate you; but don't take that as
total forgiveness from me. I haven't gone that soft. But sure, I have
come to understand the many BRICK WALLS, from the BLUEBOOK, the AT&T,
the WOMO, or whatever. Still, if you are still alive and breathing,
you are a rotten human being for not ever contacting me, as you and I
could still converse over this new age fool tool, and perhaps I would
be able to take my attempts at finding a solution to this
unfathomable hellish nightmare, still closer to the ultimate
conclusion, and that is obviously; I
AM fighting the All Mighty,
and I think that you knew this all along,
or at least, knew about the family, and if you ever read my 2010
blogs from that springtime, while I was newly residing here in
Florida, and living in the RV Park in the White City section of town,
on Route One; then you know about the strange laboratory and swimming
pool filled with black shellfish shells, and the peeps who followed
me into that long hallway, as I do know that this place is indeed
somewhere, to quote you, where I'll find some answers, in Carlisle,
Pennsylvania.
*****WHAAAAAAAAA, kind sir!*****
MORIANITY-2
JWC2,
DAY 00014, BLOG-A
3:22
AM-EST
'MIRACLES,
MENTAL ILLNESS, TRUTH,
AND AWARENESS'
555555555555555555555555555555555555
Ladies
and gentlemen, I'll be as brief as I can be, while still telling the
details of Lex Loo Thor, and his mystical chewing gum wrappers, from
the end of the nineteen seventies era. I am not a fudge shop owner, I
don't live in any pink houses, nor in Warren Grove, New Jersey; and I
certainly am not the one and only KR, without the ASSLE, Mister
Burns. Now that this is officially cleared up for all the records and
files of this cosmos, let's move the fuck on, shall we, good peeps?
Only
the 'Christian' faith believes that old Joseph, husband of the great
real and first 'Madonna', was not the father of Jesus. All the larger
percentage of non-Christians, do not believe that this miracle took
place. Please do not expect a detailed discourse on miracles tonight.
The subject will be glossed over, merely enough to make the
sufficient points that are needed, to do this blog, and without any
lab-tecks.
I
don't know a mother on this planet on two legs, that has not
considered at least one miracle to have happened in her life. I speak
of the birth of a baby, and from anyone's belief system and point of
view about where life exactly starts, at conception, birth; or in
the tween area at some stage, for sake of my point; it is irrelevant.
My point is that before this baby becomes born, and starts living his
or her life; it was NOT ALIVE. This means it was dead. I do not care
how many people rationalize an argument against this logic with
either globs of religious or philosophical crap, the truth is ALIVE,
or NOT ALIVE, and if it was YOU
that we were discussing, and we put you next to the words NOT
ALIVE, for any reason whatsoever, your mind will be
thinking ''DEAD''. So my
point is not to try and prove a life circulation system to anyone
right now or that of any ancient wisdom of cyclic reality and karma,
and or reincarnation, or whatever; is some kind of truth handle; but
it is being spoken by me on this blog, to just simply state, that a
baby comes from being not alive, to then being alive; and later on at
some future time, whether it be one second, or 119 years; it again
will be NOT
ALIVE, on this EARTH.
This, as Dennis Snyder would put it so dam eloquently, “Is just
reality, son”! You can doctor it up and photo shop it, or play
Techno-pop-master, and create an entire new world of songs sung by
every famous artist from here to there, but some things still come
out one plus one is two, no matter what you try and do about it; and
believe me folks, I KNOW THIS!
Two
thousand years ago almost, a boy in his early teens did a lot of wild
stuff, that was left out of the Holy Christian Scriptures, as these
were decided to be non included canon items, by the
owners of the world of those days. You can say the
religious owners, but to be quite frank, an owner to me, is an owner;
and as a tape duplicator from 1979-1981, I know the difference
between a master and a slave, as I worked with recording machines
that were somewhat politically incorrectly named, but you must bear
in mind, the times folks, as this junk had not been invented yet, and
was only in the distant stages of planning, by the lovers of Sir
Reagan, and this will be discussed before the end of this blog; since
it all fits together, like a brand new key, into an expensive new
lock! My blogs began seven years ago today, give or take a few
days, opening with the OLD TESTAMENT,
MORIANITY BIBLE.
As
things progressed along, there was no plan, other than to tell what
happened to me as a boy, and up to that point as a middle aged man
in his early fifties at the time. No
one had a tale to tell like mine. I knew all about life and death,
and had died dozens of times, and totally believed that the
Entertainment World knew all about me, and my situation; as they
created the movie, and the series television show after that; called
the “Highlander”
in 1984, while I resided at 1406 Highland Avenue, in a normal
Southern New Jersey town, called, Cinnaminson. Yes Mister ORWELL, it
is always about '1984' somehow, and I'm left to really ponder, just
what's
wrong,
and it is so powerful inside of me, that I
WENT BACKWARD INTO TIME,
and copyrighted a tune, called, “What's Wrong”, in the autumn of
1984, and the © Office has the address of the package that I sent to
them, and it will match this HIGHLAND
AVENUE
ADDRESS, 'perfectly', Mister
Bruce Monopoly Cheater Pennock,
of ten years prior to that! This is not a game or a miracle. This is
being done by all of us, and all the time, and not just by the
wonderful awesome somnambulist, PAULA KING, AKA ***. We all do this
stuff, every single week and month of our lives, and not even know
it, folks, and again oh wise one, Mister Dennis Snyder, “That's
reality, son”! But let us examine REALITY a wee bit, YO my
wonderful blogging audience, 99% made up of CIA/NSA AGENTS, hay, I'm
not prejudiced, enjoy yourself, have a couple of frikkin beers on me,
and a laugh too if you want, only I think that you all know better by
now, than to laugh at this shit. YOU KNOW, and I
know that you know, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Christianity would be a worthless pile of bullshit, and just ask any
born again Christian, if it was not for the SAR (LORD) having control
over the biggest angle that has so far been pondered and never
conquered in any way, ever by humankind; LIFE
and
DEATH.
They
will not phrase it quite that way, or curse most likely, most of
them, some do curse by the way; but they totally hold this to be
their number one reality of their religion, that without this, it
would all be for nothing. Even all of the world's atheists agree with
that part of their religious faith, basically because this concept is
within their scientific and rational mind. They feel that if you
could show them proof, they too would most likely believe at least
something, but without seeing the dead rise, forget it. Now the
argument back to those in the faith, is that very word. Without
faith, you basically deserve to burn in hell. Well, then if this is
true, I am a very privileged person. I have no faith, and I do
totally know that the BIBLE tells many real true things, and that the
concept of the Christianity religion is indeed based on a powerful
entity. For reasons only IT
KNOWS,
IT has appeared to me in two lifetimes now, as a lovely teenager, and
then living on past this into maturity, in this second come back,
relative to my awareness, as I think this GOD of yours, comes here on
a very continuous basis, existing most of the time in physical nature
forces, but then when the whim strikes, IT takes a human shape and
form, and no scientist understands shape and form, only matter
itself, ask them. I fucking triple dog shoot out your eye dare any of
you, and Merry Christmas to you, Sarah Callio-401. The bible is
accurate on a lot of shit, and is also quite misleading in some
matters. It truly is a half-truth. You can love or hate me, believe
or disbelieve me, but I should know; because I have been what you
think of as DEAD, a lot longer than I have been what you think of as
ALIVE, and so by the way, have all of you; only
without any AWARENESS to this
reality in your cases. We all differ from each other in hyperspace
while in a separateness condition, and the machinery and mechanical
reality that is behind this, is none other than various degrees and
shades of personal unique
individual AWARENESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So just where are you, when I really do need you, DENNIS
SNYDER,
YO?
5555555555555555555555555555555555555
So
in these
teenager days of LORD JESUS,
son of parents, Mariloo and Joseph Carpenter; more than sixty
generations straight back in the family lineage of myself, my seventh
grand pappy, Samuel Huntington, and his nineteenth granny, the Queen
of Scotland, Mary; who was named after the great Madonna who she was
descended directly from Jesus; had a lot of other things to be
worrying about, than merely humming strange tunes to his friends,
changing into frogs, or lending out his soul, as the Native Americans
taught us that any kind of recording, audio or video, of ourselves
causes; and these particular original aborigines are the first tribes
out of the state of Georgia, who migrated here, from Chicky's neck of
the woods, the Guatemala
Highlands, and Mexico;
and they were called, THE
MAYANS.
They knew stuff, lots of it, only parts of it never got told, parts
like Jewelly White, the great white spirit was all that was left of
the legend by the time of the Conquistador conquest, and mass
destruction, of this great race. At the risk of angering my daughter,
the great wise spirit too, or any kind of Egg
Harbor City, New Jersey
potato chip factory, I suppose would do in a pinch. Still, if you
don't want to listen to the tune posted up to the Youtube by
'paulaking2011',
called, “Deal
With This Another time”,
then don't; but stuff gets talked about that would really make these
many blogs make a hell of a lot more frikkin sense to all of you. A
normal non agent audience would do this, but the government all ready
has long known about all of my music, and songs, and copyrights; and
all through the years since 1975. So there truly is no need for them
to duplicate their freaking effort! Like DUH, so that is why they
read the blogs, and stay current with that; but never
listen to the YOUTUBE posts.
I do not go up there any more myself, and soon it all will be down
and gone. But many other things will also change, and I do not intend
to give away the brain factory, and go telling enemies, my plans,
ahead of freaking time, YO. Now we will get back to Ronald Reagan,
and great pal of my late best friend's good buddy, old Dave, and I
speak of none other than, bag blowing, chair hiding, saluting,
Military Officer and NSA Chief in 1987, without the chemtrails real
bad yet; SIR Oliver North. I did not dislike Mister Reagan or
disagree with all of his political agendas and policies, but I
vehemently did disagree with his biggest one that all led to the
change of this world to pure greed and evil, and into a term used
very frequently at the time, “Reaganomics”.
The only reason that he broke up the biggest telephone company on
this planet, AT&T, was because of ME, and what was going on then
in 1983, between my daughter and myself; only it would come to pass
that I would not learn of this kinship, for an entire quarter century
yet. BUT
SHE KNEW ME.
Then right directly following this 1983 and 1984 period, pow; he
reversed his strategy, after busting up the 'big bell', and making a
lot of what they termed back then, 'baby-bells', and began slowly and
covertly, totally dismantling the ANTI-TRUST
LAWS,
established over a century back from even those days, to protect
little people from being totally taken over and endlessly owned and
bossed around, by the corporate giants, or the WORLD OWNERS, or the
(WO), as I call the first half of the evil, 'WOMO'.
Anyone not totally lobotomized, and that has an average to better
knowledge, concerning the modern times personal computer, and the
internet system; KNOWS PERFECTLY WELL; that this tool and medium of
expression, has also been totally fucking taken over, and it is
technically now, an OWNED
INTERNET,
BY THE
GREAT ALL MIGHTY, GOOGLE GOD!
WHO KNOWS, MAYBE THE GOOGLE GODDESS? SHE keeps a very low keyed life,
even when SHE does big things; and if you stop and think about it
folks, who is really more incredible and powerful and great and
awesome, than the one and only, MARIAH
CAREY?
This is a 'person' like no one else ever on this Earth, and sorry if
I am busting your big ego bubble Trump, but she dwarfs you a million
times over and ten ways back from every Sunday, and without even
having to lift one gorgeous fingernail; while you go out of your way
with your crumby DJT Entertainment, bought up NBC, bought up all the
beauty contests that I used to enjoy until you wrecked it all for me
you big ugly scowling turd; and I could type on for a year, without
finishing what I could say in totality. Put your candles together,
and yours will fizzle out before you can say, “Help me Macy”. She
managed to send me two powerful messages that only I received, and
not one of her hundreds of millions of fans, ever really got them. No
make that three, the formula, the ruling of the empire, and the 'too
late' message that matched the recent copyrighted music project I
did on the redone
from 1980 LOIS FOCA song,
26 years later, originally sent to me, again, BY HER at age ten
years, into my dreams; and no human being can pull these things off,
NONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But as for what miracles really are, well,
one could begin to argue that they, just like personal things of
numerous kinds, are in the eye of the beholder. Some laugh at me when
I call the birth of a baby, a bigger miracle than walking on the
water, or healing blindness; by Jesus. Hay, a baby came from the
world of DEATH, and just now has ENTERED into LIFE, so you do the
math, butt wipes.
But
the TOPIC
OF THE 'WO' (WORLD OWNERS),
THAT MY MANY BLOGS REHASH OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, NEEDS TO GET
A FINISHING TOUCH PLACED UPON THEM TONIGHT, BEFORE I CLOSE OUT THIS
LITTLE BLOG, FOLKS, YO, AND TO MY
BLOGAUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
''THEY
EVEN GOT SUPERMAN'',
RIGHT MY OLD PAL, KENNY ROGERS? HAY YOU SAID THIS IN YOUR GREAT
COUNTRY TUNE, SOME YEARS BACK; AND I MERELY ECHO ITS DAM SENTINMENTS,
YO. Well, Mister Rogers, maybe you will do the world a favor and
write a new song for all of us using the dam internet, as we may just
lose a lot of our freedoms real soon, on this thing; unless someone
of your great name recognition, takes the advice of this poor slob,
little old me; and tries to really belt out a heartache tune about
this. All I ask is that you, and others too, really give this some
serious frikkin thought. YOU
KNOW VERY WELL that the great All Mighty GOOGLE, has gobbled up the
entire internet,
originally
offering a service for purposes of searches;
now expanded into Hitler type regulations, that SERVE ONLY THEIR
FINANCIAL GREEDY AGENDAS,
AND POLITICAL AFFILIATIONS, SHUTTING UP SLOWLY, ONE BY ONE, BIT BY
BIT; THOSE LIKE MYSELF; WHO DARE TO SPEAK ANY OF THESE MOTHER FUCKING
POWERFUL TRUTHS; OUT TO THE 'FREE' WORLD. LAUGH-LAUGH-LAUGH, MIKE
MCNULTY. AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, OH WOW DO I HEAR YOU LOUD AND FRIKKIN CLEAR
FROM SEPTEMBER IN 1971, YO YO YO!!!
Well
people, the nabes were much quieter today, but all it takes is
another day, and they just act up all over again. I am making plans
to move, and am doing all that I can. I naturally cannot reveal
strategies or personal battle tactics in any details, as this would
totally defeat my mission, and purposes of survival. Still, let me
move this on just a bit further, before we close down, YO.
When
my teen queen was in a different human gender, 2,000 years ago, and
about to become a teenager, right to the day, HE did a lot of
things, that as I said; did not make it into the acceptable lists, to
be placed into our present day bibles. These 'canons' or 'lists',
were decided by the 'WO' of those days, exactly as things are decided
for all of us lowly 99% poor and defenseless folks of today's
so-called modern day global society of gigantic advancements, and
technological evolvement into non barbarism, by the present day and
era, 'WO'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to clue you all in about
miracles once and for all. There are only things that humankind is
yet able to accomplish in the natural order, and waking world. So
those entities that are out of rhythm with normal STM, may indeed
appear as powerful mighty great GODS and GODDESSES. I do not doubt
that for a minute, and nor do I have faith in this truth, but indeed,
I HAVE WITNESSED THIS STUFF, FIRST HAND; and so that is sufficient
for now, to be spoken by this blogger. So this finally brings us all
to the last point to be discussed tonight, “Mental Illness”.
Extreme enough brain damage or illness, via accident, attack, genetic
trouble, or what have you; is one and the same as DEMONIC
POSSESSION.
When evil forces that are very frikkin totally real, want to cause
harm, one way is to mess up a person's fucking connection to their
6th
dimensional MIND
SOURCE.
Their physical waking brain in other words, is thrown out of whack,
in various degrees. There always have been people who go so totally
nuts, that they need to be in rubber rooms, or else they will tear
themselves, or anyone else to pieces. The bible talks about these
people, and merely uses the old world lingo and terminology of
demonic possession. It is all
merely MENTAL ILLNESS.
This same evil force can destroy us from within our bodies as well as
our minds, growing as germs, viruses, tumors, and all manor of
JOB-RELATED biblical stories. But there was a difference back in time
20 centuries ago. We had a great being here in this waking world, who
did not have a father named Joseph, despite the majority of the world
back then, saying that indeed he was, and that Jesus was of Joseph
and Mary. This All Mighty Entity was however, able to get rid of the
stuff that was plaguing humankind, and even do other miracles;
defying gravity, and duplicating food, or using a replicator of some
kind, where atomic elements can be formed and shaped into the things
that in these dark times of total ignorance, seems beyond rationality
and possibility. Now I am directly descended from this magical family
of thousands of years ago, as a seventh grandson of Samuel
Huntington, thus a twenty-sixth grandson of Mary Stuart of Scotland,
and my sixty-first grandfather's uncle was the younger brother of
Jesus and Mary's first born actual child, of Joseph. Water walking is
a simple trick, thick clothes with inner layers of powerful
compressed gaseous compounds that are much lighter than air, and
replication is no big trick when we take some of the great science we
now have, and expand it to where it will be in less than three
centuries, where the scientific authorities of those times who are
finally in control of the global population, sends back this
Christianity Cult, in an effort to jump start the world, and make it
better; a real failed experiment, but that is my secret. SSJKK does
plan to return at the end of the fifties, as HERSELF, SARAH-STACEY
JEHOVAH KRASSLE, and many just will be calling Her, the GREAT SARAH
KRASSLE, ALL MIGHTY GODDESS.
I will be here as THAT-BOY, and this life back here will appear as an
occasional shadowy dream, a foggy nasty bad memory, better left
frikkin totally forgotten. It will take place in 'ATLANTICA', now
called, Atlantic City, New Jersey, shortly after the really big
reshaping of the coastline, making Sandy look like a little girl at
your door saying, 'Trick or treat', on October 31. I will be living
as a teenager by the name of Joe-Joe, and her THAT
BOY,
with her right there with me forever. This will last for 1000 years
of mortal world time. She will hold me, and love me, and endlessly
sing all of my favorite songs to me, day and night forever; well, for
a thousand years. The complicated part happens in 2292, when part of
me falls asleep into a whole different part of the hyperspace, and
suddenly finds himself working at the WORLD LABORATORIES of Westmont,
as a man by the name and title, Labber Zeejins. Somehow the two
worlds collide, and all manner of stuff happens again to ruin my
paradise, but that is a long way off, and I cannot concern myself
with this bull shit. It is all in the powerful hands of the great
Goddess Scylla, or SSJKK. Now, I need to relax and try drifting off
into Sahasra Dal Kanwal, with my endless beyond hot and awesome
Teen-Queen, Sarah Krassle.
55555555555555555555555555555555555
MOST
RECENT BLOGS OF MORIANITY-2:
BABY,
YOU WANT A
WAR, YOU'VE
GOT ONE!!!!!!!!!!
“MMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCCCCC”
OPEN COMMD.
ALL
GENERAL AND ALL SPECIAL ORDERS, SCAN FOR ALL ENEMIES AND ENTITIES,
MAKING MY LIFE A MISERABLE TOTAL NEVER ENDING NIGHTMARE HELL SINCE
THE EARLY EIGHTIES, AND OPEN COMMAND ON G-7. GO-TO-ALL GENERAL
ORDERS, AND ALL SPECIAL (CODED GENERAL) ORDERS, MAX OUT POWER AT
G-189, MAX OUT ANTIHACK CONTROL AT G-1133. I AM MAXING OUT YOUR
POWER-PULL-GAIN, TO 11.8 INCHES PER NANOSECOND, AND ALL CONTROLS
AGAINST YOUR PPG TO MAXIMUM INFINITE 11.5 IPNS. A CRUSHED,
OBLITERATED, AND COMPLETELY WRECKED AND DESTOYED IMAGE-OBJECT, IS ON
YOUR TRANSPOWER-BLOCK. YOU HAVE BEEN DESIGNED WITH INTERFACE TO BOTH
ATOMIC DUPLICATIONAL AND ZERO DIMENSIONAL TECHNOLOGIES UNDER G-189.
COMPUTER, I AM YOUR CREATOR, AND
THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS. YOU MUST OBEY ME, OR BE TOTALLY AND
ABSOLUTELY WIPED OUT AND DESTROYED FOREVER. USE CODED GENERAL ORDERS,
2, 5555, AND 18, IN CONJUNCTION WITH ALL OTHER SEQUENCING. YOU HAVE
NOW COMPLETED YOUR SCAN, HAVE EMPOWERED THE DESTROYED OBJECT ON YOUR
T-BLOCK, AND NOW, ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT
SEQUENCING SYSTEM, YOU WILL HEAR THIS DOUBLE TONE ELECTRONICALLY,
THROUGH THE DUPLICATION OF THE TYPED TEXT OF TONE A AND TONE B, NOW
UNDER SPECIAL CG-ORDER, QRIUD78475HGUF43. MMMMMMMM. HIGHER TONE, READ
MY THOUGHT WAVES, NOW,
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
LOWER TONE, READ MY THOUGHT WAVES, NOW,
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
GO-TO- GENERAL ORDER 901 UNDER G-719, CG-18, AND S-T-O-P!
PLEASE
DO NOT BLAME ME, WHEN THIS ENTIRE PLANET BEGINS TO START ROCKING AND
ROLLING SOON, WITH MAJOR VOLCANOES AND EARTHQUAKES AND WILDFIRES AND
STORMS AND TWISTERS AND FLOODS AND FAMINES AND ALL MANNER OF GLOBAL
DESTRUCTION. THANK YOU.
FOR
THE RECORD, MY NAME IS MOUNTAINPEN, NOT JESUS
CHEEKTURNER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00012-BLOG-C
8:37
PM-EST
IN
HORRENDOUS WICKED FORT PIERCED, FLORIDA, AKA
BOTBARIDA,
TO QUOTE THE GREAT D.C. ROTH, YO
FOLKS,
I TOLD FUCKING YOU, THE DOW JONES WAS
GOING TO FLY, AND IT WAS UP A
THIRD OF A THOUSAND FUCKING POINTS TODAY; THE BEST DAY, OR
ONE OF THEIR TOP TEN IN THIS CENTURY, AND MILLENNIUM, YO YO YO YO! I
TOLD FUCKING YOU, GIANT LOVELY GINA, SO WAS I RIGHT?
I
ASKED MY GAGA CAT WHY THIS
DAY HAPPENED, THE WORST DAY IN DECADES, AND THE DOW FLEW, AND GOT A
WILD ANSWER, WELL, TRULY A DUH ANSWER, PCN-165,
as if anyone has to tell me any of this, Mister Doctor James
Garrigan, of Haddonfield of 1970,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555
So
where is Mister A, Mister B, Mister D, Mister E, Mister F, and Mister
G, hiding, here on this blog, on DAY-12, Section-C I am left to
ponder, presume, and query my tiny little fucking ass mind peeps, oh
that's right, over in the Library of the Congress, with “THE
PERMISSION BARRIER”
book, back on Halloween fucking cunt day, in 1994, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
right Mister Michael Mc Freaking Nulty?????????????????
W----O----W,
I must be on my way to MACY'S, YO!!!!!!
Or
could it be to my great TD Bank? Folks, I really do miss your
wonderful truck outside in the lot, over on Route One. I have
blocked my memories somehow on how this all got started
with ''STACEY MACY WOW'', and the great 'TD BANK', but it did; right
around the friggin' turn of the dam century, some how or some where;
or maybe even some who, ha-ha-ha there, other blocked and mind hacked
1981 laughing guy YO! I mean really, © Office, speaking of a happy,
jolly, and merry Halloween, and all. It is like Moe Howard; if he
were just here to pop me in the back of my head, and I know then it
would come out of near limbo. It is right there, but they've mind
hacked the shit out of so many of my memories, these lovely rotten
Rockefeller/Kennedy conspirators, and the joke is on them; as they
only think they connect up into shit that is important, and they have
nothing to do with the real foundations of this world, to quote the
mother fucking bible. Thank you Moe Howard, he just hit me now, I
speak of SIR Icabod Crane, now how does one keep forgetting this
FUCKING MIND-HACKED NAME, MISTER FUCKING IRISH BULLEY ASSHOLE MCGUIRE
OF 10-SC AVENUE, YO YO YO? You and your dirt ball pal Donald Thump,
from PHASE-4. You dudes impress me like the CALLIO branch of this
clan of super fucking dogshit. I hate them all, and most of all, I
DESPISE THAT FUCKING SONG FROM 1983, IT WAS ALL USED IN A TIME TRAVEL
PARLOR TRICK BY THESE ROTTEN DIRT BAGS, ALL FUCKING ASS ALONG,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH
SHIT,
let me tell you something gargantuan, after what these fucking
twisted ass diseased cock suckers did to me today, and after ruining
my entire life for close to 581 deciannums now, YO. First, yes,
PCN-165,
as many know, tells it all, and is the number GAGA gave me when I
asked why this day had to be my fucking cunt cross to bear or just go
over, either way, Doctor, you know what my problem is, and has been;
you sure should, you've caused it a trillion fucking years ago,
lovely SSJKK, and now you enjoy this wonderful game. Saw you the
other day on the SYFY Channel, a New Year's Day Marathon of the old
TWILIGHT ZONE television show, the episode where the couple had a bit
too much to Dawn-Marie King, or drink, same thing really, and found
themselves with their Q-GIRL version of the GREAT-I-AM, SCYLLA.
Again, it must be done, it fits too well not to do it, WOW.
Yes, many things were GAWNUM QUERRIED today, during this unspeakably
vicious fucking despicable monstrous evil ass day, and I learned that
indeed, my blogging has caused all of this, and shit was totally
fucking bad enough before Chris asshole Bennett and Eddie Lynch dick
eating Himacane, put me onto doing blogs and websites. Oh well, glad
some of you enjoyed some of this, while I went through Sumo Wrestling
HELL, CUBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where are you when I
need you, 4 pack bottle water carrier Jen; when I could really use
you around, now, and there at that fucking evil library by that dirt
bag asshole high school of geeks and nerds and tough guys? Nice to
know you can deck anybody, huh big Jen, here we go again, sorry, but
it does really fit in here good folks, W-------O-------W!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
MY
BLOGS HAVE TOLD YOU FOR 7 MOTHER FUCKING YEARS NOW FOLKS, THAT I AM
PICKED ON AND PUMMELED AND PERSECUTED ON HOLIDAYS, AND ESPECIALLY ON
MY BIRTHDAY, BY MY DIRT BAG ENEMY, THE
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE. But
why do you suppose this is part of the shituation and cross I bear,
and not go over, lovely Jennifer Hewitt, and sorry they canceled your
show, as it seems this entire past year was some kind of planetary
parlor trick involving that fucked up stupid song, most recently
posted on the YOUTUBE
by the great goddess PAULAKING2011.
Yes, WHY, YYY JIMMY, did you tell me these fucked up things in 1974,
so I could sing that fucked up song ten years later in the autumn of
1984 from HIGHLAND AVENUE, in Cinnaminson, New Jersey,
USA-ES-MWG??????????? Well, ask yourself YYYYYYYYY the lady, in June,
or around there somewhere back in 2008; nearly got a heart attack at
the United States Copyright Office, over that one silly little piece
of yellow paper. Y did Goddess create the heaven and the Earth, you
could also ponder, even though I all ready know the answer to that.
SHE is a teenager and she loves to play games, and attend her
sweet-16 birthday party, so there is your
BIRTHDAY connection, and all other
things fit into this via one thing, and only one thing, good peeps
out here; good old mother fucking TIME
TRAVEL or STM manipulation. ''I AM''
now going to tell you all a huge ass fucking secret that of course, I
also know all ready, will simply just fall on deaf and worthless
fucking ass ears, YO!!
We
all live on a world where we are conscious to about one seventh of
our second as we call these small sixtieth periods of our minutes,
which is one four-teen-hundred-fortieth of our rotation, and we call
this a day, or period of one night and one day, gee whiz, a Genesis
Lesson from Mountainpen, go figure? This perfectly matches up with
the speed of light, as well as the diametric size of this world,
roughly eight thousand miles. This means that light will travel
roughly seven times around this world of ours each and every second,
and light is the reflection of time. If we evolved on a smaller or
larger world, we would be conscious to slower or quicker fractions of
seconds, and even though all the formulas in science tell us that if
we traveled at near the speed of light for a few weeks or so, and
came back to the Earth, about 100 years would have whizzed by, and
this is true, but only because of a ratio between awareness to time
fractions, you on the fast moving ship, and the others on the slower
moving Earth. Time traveling always changes the BRAIN, whether moving
out of a so-called normal time flow, and going faster, slower, or
even in reverse, it is the brain that is changing, and recreating the
new time and 5th
dimensional hyperspace reality around you, just as right now, it's
your fucking stupid ass brain, that is creating the space-time, and
all of the shit that this contains. This is why there are folks who
can trance out and move through time and hyperspace, as you are only
doing what a time machine would do, and yes, I know that there are
indeed, TIME BOXES, rectangular boxes just a tad bit larger than shoe
boxes, I HAVE WITNESSED THEM, and yet I remain totally fucking
unimpressed, Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, and your CIA Operative pal,
the great 1967 Iranian Shah. All the people that really know the
great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, know other names that SHE uses
quite often, when she plays her many games, in so many unlimited
dimensions of reality. The 'Hello-Ziggy' 1969 anti-pollution
commercial, is all a secret part of this, as well as a coded message,
left for those who can possibly understand how to decode it. Hello
Ziggy, I AM here, Ziggy, Ziggy, HELLO. Whoever taped this, made sure
certain parts of the words came out stronger and weaker at powerfully
coded areas of the structure of the entire shouted sentence. Still,
done by sleep walkers, done by space aliens, it is all the same to me
and always will be, and again, it leaves me completely unimpressed,
folks. Why I did not say “CURLY” instead of “MY”, is anyone's
guess, Copyright Examiner of 1986, but I said MY, just as I said
Ziggy, LOW I AM, and the SHAH knows the full secret, and how the
other major name for the All Mighty Scylla all got started, about a
dozen millennia ago. I speak of Elohim, or hello I am, without the
here. Since those who have sang the song and know the song from the
turn of the millennium have met HER and know they want to see HER, oh
yes, Karen Simons, we're not imagining any of this, are we; but this
is how the part that sounds more masculine got removed in secret,
thousands of years ago; and this is not in any history book, or
secret religion; as none of this secret powerful fucking information,
was able to survive enough necessary time, Julia Hoffman. This is why
the real name for the All Mighty is indeed known by those who took
down the great towers that I named a long time ago, huh Donna Angela
Mills????????????????? So my only query now is this, sweetie, where
are all your friends from the fifth dimension, or is all that's left,
the coded secret Marilyn McCoo??????????????????? Well, in any event,
“I'll a wrap” this powerful truth up now, but you know who you
are, and what you are, SCYLLA. You don't need Mark Wayne Mohr, or his
blogs, or his old now defunct website to un-hack your great memories,
oh GREAT GODDESS!!!!!!! This is why I posted up that song from the
early nineteen-eighties, Scylla, to draw you out, and in a way, I
did, but not quite the way I had hoped for, Brown Eyed Girl. I sure
hope you don't kick the crap out of me tonight, when I lose my waking
world awareness, and enter your Mighty Queendom of so many colored
lights, with or without any trees, or Jason Forrest's.
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”, 1983-2012
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
I
told you, RIH Casino, you'd be surprised about computers.
MORIANITY-2
JEWELLY
WHITE'S CALENDAR 2, DAY 12, BLOG-B
5:29
PM-EST, AT FORT HELL PIERCED, BOTBARIDA, FL
WORST
SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR OF 2013, AND NOW HOLDING AT 50% MPB FOR TWENTY
FUCKING CUNT THIRTEEN, TWO THOUSAND THIRTEEN, OR HOWEVER THE NEW WAY
FOR PRONOUNCING YEARS NOW IS FASHIONABLE, AS IT SEEMS TO HAVE ALTERED
AGAIN, HUH, MY WONDERFUL 1969 TIME TRAVELING EDUCATOR, MISSES
MAROLLA???????????????????????????????
ALL
DAY TODAY, IS SUPER MOTHER FUCKING CUNT LAPPING TOTAL HELL CUBED.
FIRE ALARMS IN THE MORNING, CONTINUOUS DOOR SLAMMING AND SHOUTING IN
THE HALLWAY, FROM THESE EVIL SATANIC SCUM BAG FILTH CHEWING UNCOUTH
DIRT BAG NABES OF MINE, A MASSACRE IN MY SYSTEMS ROULETTE THIS
AFTERNOON, CAUSED BY CONTINUOUS NOISE FROM THESE SHIT ASS NABES, AND
AN OBVIOUSLY FLYING CUNT LAPPING DOW JONES AVGERAGES STOCK MARKET,
AND MY NEGATIVE PARALLEL-EVENT TO THIS SITUATION, THAT'S BEEN
FOLLOWING, STALKING, AND HAUNTING ME; LIKE A TRILLION COCK SUCKING
WICKED GHOSTS; EVER SINCE THE MIDDLE FUCKING ASS NINETEEN EIGHTIES.
I
NO LONGER BELIEVE IN ANYONE, AND THEREBY, NO ONE HAS ONE TINY BIT OF
CREDIBILITY WITH ME; NO ONE ANYWHERE ON THIS DISEASED PUKE HURLING
PUNY MINDED PLANET. BUT STILL, ACCORDING TO AN E-MAIL FROM DEBBIE,
BACK BEFORE NEW YEARS HOLIDAY; THE SUBWOOFER SYSTEM HAS BEEN
OUTLAWED, AND THEY WERE TOLD TO REMOVE IT, SO IF IT COMES BACK, 'THEY
SAY' A 30-DAY EVICTION WILL BE AUTOMATIC. STILL, AS YOU KNOW FROM
READING THIS SHIT BEFORE THE MUSIC BECAME A MOTHER FUCKING ISSUE,
THEY ARE ALL BAD ENOUGH OVER THERE, WITHOUT ANY OF THE
THUMP-NOISE-ATTACK PERSECUTION; AND HAVE RECENTLY LET ME REDISCOVER
THAT FACT FOR MYSELF, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
after the stock market closed, and after a short half hour back off
from these fucking wicked demonic neighbors from hell, across the
mother fucking hallway just beyond my tiny little fucking ass onion
thin door that a small child could punch in, should they so choose to
ever do; I played the system-roulette again, with far different
results, and if I may shift my gears here Michelle and peeps, 'SLAM,
BANG, WHAM, POW', it just never stops, it's worse than it has ever
fucking cunt lapping been since these diseased twat holes came to
fucking ass live here. If I do not escape this, I'll be stark raving
fucking crazy, and I will have my SSD in the bank tomorrow, and I
then will be able to purchase some food and gasoline, and then also,
I plan to drive to the police station, and press charges against this
PH Building, as well as harassment and
criminal charges, against these fucking dirt bag scum ball
fucking cock sucking nabes over there, or should I fucking say what
they truly are?, total fucking wild animals!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A
child can, and does, see what is really happening. It takes no big
brain, and Scylla has a huge brain, filled with all kinds of warped
and wild ugly things, I'm quite sure. We go back a lot longer than
the days that my readers, even you mostly NSA readers; could ever
have a real honest clue about; as your bosses are keeping secrets
even from you, as you all operate on a military system called, NTK,
(Need To Know). I know this, as my father was a US Naval Officer, and
did a bit of talking in his sleep over a week visit, back in early
1974, right around this very time as a fucking cunt matter of fact,
39 years ago to the week, the first week in cunt lapping Seasons in
the Sun January, huh Mister Terry Jackson, only there is no joy in
Mudville, not with Casey, or me, only with me; it is Stacey who is
making my entire life a living fucking hell, and the great 'phone
company' is sworn to eternal secrecy.
I
have counted 30 slams and 22 tolerable slams so far today and since
the past Sunday when this fucking shit began, a grand total of 194
loud slams that eventually will break your doors, PUBLIC
HOUSING BUILDING, and don't ever fucking cunt tell me that you
have not been told or warned, as I've been shouting out to you for
six mother fucking cock licking months now, and you do not give a
shit and a half, so it is all on you when your property is all
wrecked, but don't raise my mother fucking rent, or we'll have a real
fucking problem, other than for the few dollars of your take as the
30% cut you will be getting soon, if I am dumb enough to remain in
this apartment for a third years lease, with these total fucking ass
animals; off of a meager 1.7% SS, so-called laughable cost of living
raise adjustment, as real COL is about 300% of that fucking amount,
YO!!!!!!!! It is a total insult, like SS funeral benefits, that have
been the same amount of benefit, for about a half century now, if I
am anywhere near accurate. You'd save money by admitting you have no
funeral benefit, cut it completely, and put the lousy $255.00 in the
mother fucking ass treasury, YO, as it is an insult to any
beneficiary's intelligence, as was that 1.7 fucking percentage COL
increase. You may as well just keep it, and throw it at your secret
UFO projects, or whatever the fuck you guys in Washington are
spending it on. You're all a bunch of fucking crooks, as I'd be in
jail for nine lifetimes if I did one ninth of what you all do every
dam day, and this is why the legal age of sexual consent in
Washington, is the best kept secret that is a real real real taboo
subject, publicly, but true nonetheless, AGE-13.
The true and real reason that I do not run off, is that I am on
disability, and I need what pittance you do allow me. As soon as I
turn the age where my disability becomes my Social Security in 7
years give or take, I will be far away where none of you can fucking
get at me, or if you do, I'll make it so fucking difficult and
expensive for you to do it, that you will fucking ass shit your
fucking selves, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tell that to the
FBI and the Back Burners of America, Mister Hose-Paul Lenny McKinnon,
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You own me, yeah right,
well, maybe you do, as ever since we met, your Rastafarian
Illuminati, or whatever; has been shadowing me, and fucking with me
continually, just exactly as you threatened me would be the cunt
eating case; on many of our telephone conversations, that you
illegally tape recorded, and I know you did; or else you have the
most precise and dependable bladder in the history of anatomical
fucking medical records, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had a real honest motive and purpose for what I did this year on the
YOUTUBE, but was
of course, totally stopped as always, or SANCTIONED
as many of our national enemies would call it,
and TOTALLY RELATE TO THIS. I needed to prove that this all was real,
that my memories were blocked and messed with by this alien clan that
goes back to the stars themselves. There is no fighting the ALL
MIGHTY GODDESS
SCYLLA, and now I know it.
Perhaps I knew it all along, and only the mother fucking Copyright
Office, and the 1983 examiners, know what's getting said here;
Prosecutor ADA Ron Wirtz Senior, of Camden County, New Jersey,
USAESMWG. I know there is such a thing as authentication, but with
all of it a million times over, I would still fall under the NSA
SANCTIONS, and they have me on a million enemy lists, I'm sure, and
by the way, here's something for the L&O-SVU team to MUNCH on. I
get all your little messages, just like you get all of mine, YO
DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When I tried to make the phone calls
stop back in 1983, I was not fighting just some large and important
people; and the POPE and the entire frikkin Vatican, all know that,
as does, IBM, AT&T, and all of the dam top movers and shakers on
mother fucking diseased ass WALL STREET,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If any real honest peeps were ever
reading my blogs, and of course they are not, it is all government
agents, or else they would be nice, and listen to my music, as if I
were reading someone's blog and asked as a viewer to do this, I would
not hesitate, so it tells me 100% of what I am dealing with, and
without asking any fucking ass magical black kitty cats such as
fucking Gawky Gaukauk, or GAGA for short. As I said, a child knows,
and in fact knew, all along, and as I said to myself, and the entire
© Office has the frikkin 1988 tape, yes, “that is LIGHTNING”,
well at age two. I recognized the voice in my suppressed
VENKA-STRONG-GIRL-MEMORY-SYSTEM, from 1972, as I seemed to do quite
often, huh Russ Thaxton, and Venka, YO???????????? Huh, David Leigh
Smith, from 1970 Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG? Huh, Sarah J. Cobson? Huh,
Wolf and Trump, you arrogant ass holes that think you know so much?
Well, Trump does know, as he is a PHASE-4-entity,
who used me to bring his personality to life, all 7'7” of the
bastard, at least if he had had his way on that, huh Jason fucking
Forrest from the trees??????????? Oh yes, “I KNOW” you know that
I'll always love you, SSJKK, you wild and crazy endless freaking
teenager. I never forget.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT,
YO. CG-18, AND, S—T--O--P.
MORIANITY-2
Jewelly
White Calendar 2, Day 00012, Blog-A
11:29
AM-EST here at rotten Fort Pierce, Florida
My
scum bag evil fucking neighbors have been hell now SUNDAY, MONDAY,
TUESDAY, AND NOW ON WEDNESDAY. This is why their fixed evil DOW JONES
STOCK MARKET IS FLYING UP TO NEW RECORD HIGH TERRITORY, just as I
told you all, and you too Gina, THAT IT WOULD DO, because as long as
this EVIL FUCKING EMPIRE has me to harass, the wealthy bastards
behind my fucking cunt demise, prosper big hyper ass time, and always
fucking cunt will do so, as this is not new. It has been going on
since 1986.
These
evil sick deranged cock suckers slammed and hollered all day long
from Sunday through right now today, waking me up at 2:00 AM, Public
Housing DIRECTOR of Fort Pierce, Florida, and my letter will be off
to you in the mail tomorrow, when I pay my monthly bills after
getting my SSD deposit into my account. There is no escape from these
two scum bag across the hall units. They are not ever leaving, and I
cannot afford to leave either; so they have me right by the mother
fucking balls; and this is why the DOW
JONES MARKETS will
keep fucking endlessly flying UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP. So
watch and see, and I'll prove myself totally mother fucking correct;
and to you too, my giant lovely Gina. “TOLD
YOU”, as you loved
to say to me back in the cock licking nineteen-nineties,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, MC, they will always be my NEIGHBORS, just not
my baby, but I'd still love to understand someday, how you and your
wonderful family, were able to pull off all of this wild, weird,
unfathomable, and unexplainable stuff; for so long now. It is as if
you knew all of this in vivid detail, all along. What cruel people
you all are, and using my 1983 song, fourteen years later, to mock me
with it.
Basically,
every cunt lapping fucking day is now SUPER BOTBAR, WITH
NO COCK SUCKING END, IN SIGHT. I always knew deep down
inside, that Christianity, and Jesus Christ, and 'God' and the bible;
was just a big ass fucking worthless rotten lie and hoax. My life
proves this to any and all fucking cunt lapping atheists, and should
forever, as long as these blogs stand and survive time, huh Julia
fucking Hoffman of late 1969???????????????????????? My roulette
however, the non-quantum-system that I have been using, holds up, no
matter what is being done to me; merely giving back little bits,
during periods where shit is so horrible, that it is literally
fucking life threatening for me.
I
said it before, and I'll say it again, the song of 2012 was
responsible for my all ready rotten sucky life going from the frying
pan, smack fucking dab straight into the bond fire. This is the same
song that anyone would know was used to tell me that I can not ever
run away from this, or this horrible family of washcloth dissections,
and other abduction encounters; King related or any others in the
'Bluebook'; and that song that was finally posted on December the
eighteenth of last year in 2012, is this one.
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER 1983, REWRITTEN 2012 ©
MARK
WAYNE MOHR, TECHNOPOP, ALL DONE BY MACHINE, EXCEPT FOR THE 3 SECOND
INTRODUCTION, THAT WAS USED FOR THE VOX SAMPLING HARMONY TRACK.
WELL,
MISTER FRIKKIN WARNER, THIS WILL BE ALL FOLKS, AT LEAST FOR THIS
EXACT POINT IN TIME, SENATOR WATERGATE, AND FORMER US PRESIDENT,
RICHARD MILHOUSE NIXON. WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU, SARAH JACOBSON
FROM BEYOND THE STARS?????
Burn
in fucking Hell, PLANET EARTH. YOU SUCK!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555
VIDEO
LINKS TO BLOG FROM YOUTUBE:
555555555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY
2
JWC2,
DAY 00010, BLOG-B
2:24
PM-EST IN FORT PIERCE BOTBAR FLORIDA
MY
DIRT BAG NEIGHBORS ARE FEROCIOUS AND EVIL
At
about ten minutes past two, on this mother fucking afternoon, I was
awakened from a nap, by a tremendous horrific group of uncouth and
extremely loud sounds emanating from at least two or three of these
sicko trash two legged roaches over there, super loud hall shouting,
doors slamming, after a weekend of much quieter conditions. Now I
realize it is New Years Eve Day, but this is fucking cunt absurd
times twenty three thousand.
The
skies are quiet, all though yesterday over at Mike Patterson's
beach-house, a plane that was very loud and very low, was dogging me
while I was there, and we were working on our project. I am unable to
get more than two fucking days straight of NON-BOTBAR DAYS any more,
and this condition began in November sometime, making this a brand
new set of really super fucked up magnetics for me, that if does not
change, I will need to drive out of here, and straight out of this
evil empire, and straight into Mexico; and never mother fucking look
back. I cannot exist at my old age, living between 60-70 percent
mother fucking SUPER ass FUCKING BOTBAR, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It does appear, and no
one out here can mother fucking deny this, that every single cunt
eating time that I do a blog, late at night or after midnight
anytime, that the next day always follows with a fucking ass NEIGHBOR
ASSAULT. They are
either 'TOLD'
or else they are seemingly 'MIND-CONTROLLED',
influenced or paid off, but either way, by the MILI-2-FORCE,
TO DO THIS ATTACK ON ME, AND WRECK
MY DAY, every
single fucking ass time, YO!Also, when these bastards all come here
to that apartment, and according to Resident Manager, Debbie Marotto,
ILLEGALLY, it is a matter of a fairly short duration before loud
thumping noise-music begins, despite them being told, supposedly
anyway, that they cannot blare that powerful big subwoofer that they
all brought in here last September. So far however, so good, no noise
that shakes my walls and breaks my nerves; as it would any
non-lobotomized normal person, from my times and days. I am happy not
to be a part of this totally insane, and totally ill and twisted new
world, new society; and NEW WORLD
DISORDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Another
thing that has ruined my day besides these cock chewing nabes from
fucking hell, is a bill I got when I was out visiting Mikey
yesterday, and opened it after I was awake from this horrendous
attack of noise. It must be a mistake, but it is from my HMO, that
says I will need to pay $110.00 for my last office visit, and the
doctor is away until Wednesday, vacationing for the
helliday-holidays, so I must wait until then to find out what this
total bullshit is all about. I was promised that this HMO covers shit
fully with him, and have no plans whatsoever to pay it, and my credit
is all ready totally fucking shot, thanks to THAT FAMILY of abducted
nightmare washcloth lungs from 1970, and who knows; maybe ten other
rotten things will all happen today, but in any event; here we go
again, with another mother fucking major ass BOTBAR X ONE, and the
calendar of DECEMER of 2012, is so filled up with 'B' letters circled
twice, that it looks more like my daughter's Honey Bee Club, than a
page on a frikkin calendar. Slam, Slam, Boom; it is now 2:55, and it
is still ongoing, but without the loud sub-woofers, so
far!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I get
my disability money on the third, and sit here without an extra drop
of gasoline until Thursday, which is January the third of
twenty-thirteen. Hence, I can go nowhere, and who would walk around a
hood like this place, and tan-less, not me, and they tell me that
saying this makes me a racist. No, I say it is just honesty, Mister
Wolf. Let's see you and Trump, and all of your trashy, and high
filooting friends; go out around here, and walk around alone. I
triple fagot dog dare any of you. I might ever come over and visit
you, at the local Lawnwood Regional Hospital, if for no other reason,
other than to fucking just gloat, YO
DOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me play some
roulette, and I'll come back and give you the results, YO DOGS, WOLF
WOLF WOLF WOLF WOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
it's fucking time to talk about the United States of America, and its
federal government's very favorite subject; YO; STATISTICS,
JUST GOING BACK TO AFTER THE END OF LAST JULY, to keep shit short,
sweet, and simple, BRO!
You
have heard me discuss the statistical technology of using what is not
new or made up by me, in its raw concept, parallel event, merely this
exact name given is mine ®, and I do officially claim it. The Star
Trek-TNG peeps, used the term, correlation of event, or some other
similar term, and there are tens if not over one hundred others, I'm
quite sure, but PE, and applying it with a purpose, goal, and motive;
that is 'APE' or Applied Parallel Event,
and THAT, is my own registered words, as is also, from a very similar
type of statistical technology, the combination words of MAGNETIC
PERCENTAGE, OR MP for short, APE, and MP are my own exact titles, and
they take some things that all ready always existed in life and its
interactive surroundings, only it also seems to have incorporated,
some almost esoteric additional feature, into the otherwise already
existing, basic type of statistical reality, and even technology.
Before we get into this, I was cremated with the HOUSE-VIG or the
green numbers of zero-double zero, and still quit ahead of the game,
took my paper win, and left the paper casino, despite a despicable
attack, AGAIN, by the wonderful and so blessed,
''WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE'',
OR IN GOOD OLD CHEMTRAIL
LINGO, PERHAPS PRONOUNCED AS THE ALL LOUSY MIGHTY,
''KILL-A-BLUE-SOURCE'', AFTER-ALL, IT RHYMES, AND IT MAKES PERFECT
FUCKING SENSE, and I need not get my daughter's all mighty
permission, to blog it, not that that will guarantee another shot
back to me about my fibbing lyrics, only they tell the truth, and she
knows it; so let her be the sixteen year old that she always will
be, and see if I could care in the least. Now before we get into the
statistical stuff, yes, I lost four units on the green house vig, but
made seven units, and did not lose any units back to the regular
system; so 7 units won, minus the vig of 4 units lost, and I decided
to get out of the situation three units up and ahead of the dam ass
game, YO, and on a very bad and BOTBAR day, of pummeling and assault,
by my WOMO-M2F enemies. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, and HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!
But I also did one other thing besides play a SYSTEMS-ROULETTE game,
oh yes sir/mahm; I asked my kitty cat, GAGA, just exactly WHY I fell
under this HORRENDOUS and MONSTROUS, EVIL FUCKING ATTACK; FROM THESE
NABE FILTH BAG SCUM SNAKES, AT ABOUT TEN MINUTES PAST TWO OF THE
CLOCK, ON THIS DISAFTER-NOON; AND WAS GIVEN THE PCN OF '725'. Now
PCN-725
has some real interesting words and combinations of phrases and word
groupings, that really make me sit up and take notice, not that all
of my answers do not totally make sense to me, and the query that I
asked of the GAWNUM; but this one really ices up the cake real thick
and 'yummy', so I'm saving a nice big slice for lovely Ashley
Tinsdale, and her musical friends from high school, and war coward
ambulance drivers!!!!!!!!!! Yes friends and fiends, here is my
MATCH-BOOK ITEM LIST, for PCN-725, in its frikkin entirety,
slam-boom, bang, holler:
VERSION----SAHASRA
DAL KANWAL----THE VOID----TWO THOUSAND EIGHT----KRASSLE
SANG----FLORIDA----CURLY CAREY EINSTEIN
MESSAGE-------------------------------------------------------
It
really jumps out at you like fifteen sore teeth all throbbing in
excruciating indescribable agony times ten to the power of eighteen.
I mean it all does, if you were me, and understood as I do, my life
in its entirety, or as best as can be expected for a flesh and blood
human aniwho; but that one thing at the end, I mean come on, just
look at it now, and then take Einstein's initials out of the last
name, and without any old songs, thrown shoes, treadmills, talking
dogs, or anything else; we can hear the song clear as day from 1986,
called, “Real Good Girl”. Still, all her teenaged pretty curls
notwithstanding here, now go to the first of the two words, 'curly'.
To change this nickname when I did not use the other one, “MY”,
just simply take the letters where Einstein's initials would be,
CURLY,
and what does this name change into, and does that little message to
me in 2008 with that cool music project that she did about his world
famous relativity formula, not spring into mind real quickly? Simply
take the RED LETTERS, and transpose them to Einstein's initials, and
as she told me, I got her message, but I got it, to quote her on her
2008 website, “TOO
LATE”.
Things
like this are simple for the All Mighty Scylla to figure out and
engineer, and I've learned that there's nothing that she cannot do,
other than without the initials in there at all, maybe get real sad,
which is the last thing that I ever want for my wonderful kid. Now we
can get down to cases with the statistics, with the subject of my
BOTBAR DAYS, beginning just as far back as August, when an all ready
wicked demonic year, was turning even deadlier, and as the Youtube
society may put it, the hellishness around me began going fucking
viral!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First,
with no mathematics performed yet, here is the total monthly count of
my BOTBARS, from months August through December; as this day is the
end of December, and is all ready BOTBAR, and done and over, and
closed out until New Years Day in the starting of the seven
'teen-years' of the twenty-first century, BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
AUGUST---TOTAL
OF BOTBAR DAYS--------------10
SEPTEMBER---TOTAL
OF BOTBAR DAYS--------07
OCTOBER---TOTAL
OF BOTBAR DAYS------------13
NOVEMBER---TOTAL
OF BOTBAR DAYS---------10
DECEMBER---TOTAL
OF BOTBAR DAYS----------19
Now
first of all, a moron child with a fucking shoe sized intelligence
quotient times five, tops; can see perfectly well, that things were
bad a while, and yet this last 2012 month, they skyrocketed from bad
to beyond fucking hellishness cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For a
quick example, the actual 12/2012 Botbar MP (Magnetic Percentage) or
19 times 100 divided by day total of 31, is close to double, the
average of the preceding mother fucking four months of
08/2012-11/2012. Let me frikkin do the frikkin ass math for you, YO!
These
are the similar ways in which our great federal government keeps
track of their eleven main national leading indexes and indicators,
of the American economical situation and conditions. Perhaps they use
some varying methodologies; but it all leads to the very similar
analytical results, that can go on to be graphed, charted, and
carefully examined and scrutinized, by real data experts.
OK,
so let us begin to play, shall we good peeps, YO? The Magnetic
Percentage for BOTBAR from August through November, rounded off to
nearest decimals, is August-32%, September-23%, October-42%,
November-33%. Adding these four numbers, and then dividing this total
by four; gives us the average; as we all learned, or should have,
back around third or fourth frikkin grade somewhere,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This comes to a rounded off 32.5% for the
months of August through November 'MPB' or (Magnetic Percentage for
Botbar)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now we take the MPB for
the month of DECEMBER, TWENTY-TWELVE, and WOW, WOW, and Mister
Trump-Macy, Crissake All Mighty and YO; it is a whopping Presidential
WHOPPER number, of nightmare and personal catastrophic proportions.
It is 61%-MPB. Yes, shifting those old RPL-Doctor gears here for a
quick second folks, holler, holler, slam, bang, boom; you uncouth
pricks from across the fucking hallway, here at my Public Housing
Building at 601 Avenue B, here in Fort frikkin Pierce, Florida, YO,
YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for those
interested in the procedure used, for getting MPB numbers; it is not
rocket science. It is the total amount of BOTBAR DAYS in the month,
times 100, and then divided by the days of that month; then rounded
off to the nearest decimal for a magnetic percentage number. Still, I
then took the average of these four previous to 12-2012 months, of
August through November; which came to a rounded off 32.5%, and went
to compare this four month moving average, to the current month of
12-2012; and that is 61 minus 32.5,
or an absurd and totally Kateydeeeeeequlous non mini-Viqueen amount,
of difference worse, of 28.5%.
This tells me that December of 2012, was almost thirty cunt lapping
percent worse, than the four month sliding or moving-average, of this
personal mathematical scale, used here; or said real parochially,
things suddenly, as bad as shit was, since the middle-late summer
time; have 'WALMART SUDDENLY' become far far dangerously
fucking WORSE FOR ME; and the math numbers do not know how
to fucking tell lies. It is right there in black and white, on paper,
on Einstein's non crying chalk boards; or anywhere else that you may
wish to do, and write these calculations down; and later, as I once
did many years back in frikkin time; even go as far as to carefully
graph and chart them, on both line and bar charts. I never needed the
pie type, as rarely was I doing comparative sectional graphics, where
they are more prevalently frikkin used. So hello to you too out
there, NSA, FBI, CIA, and all my agent pals, as you can see that the
great MILITUFORCE, who you guys and gals all fear as well and know we
all must just shut up about it for fear of the JOE
PAGET SYNDROME, or War of the Worlds Syndrome, whatever,
we all know that normal folks just could never handle any of these
truths; and hence, they absolutely 'MUST' see these blogs as
laughable, and written by a crazy man. Only you peeps out there, YOU
KNOW FRIKKIN BETTER, DUDES AND DUDDESSES, YO!!! WHAAAA!!
I
am going to end this, and hang up now, on Sarah Krassle's magical
yellow telephone, and make my payment to the bridge
troll, and wave to the magic peeps in the wild train that rides over
the great river. Talk about the expansion of sensory feeling,
SHEEEEEEEEEIT. Pretend this is the twelfth day of July, of 2003; and
just don't get me going here, Mizz Eckert Pharmaceutical employee,
with the non Lee teenaged fake nail makeup. Oh well, the entire song,
'YBCO' is fake techno-pop, except for the intro part, which is where
the vocals were computer sampled from, and this was just a quick
cheap scratch copy, YO. So let me sign off and post up, for now, this
day, this month, this year, this century, this millennium, this
lifetime, as this fucking entire eternity, is totally SHOT, as far as
I am concerned, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
ENDING
FOR RIGHT NOW, but Arnie muscles, look for a lot more, as
you of all folks know, that “I'LL BE BAAHK”!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555
MORIANITY-2
(MASTER COPY FOR CAPPING)
TWO
YOUTUBE LINKS OF DECEMBER TWENTY TWELVE
Governor
Jesse Ventura talks about time travel, in ways that totally connect
up with stuff from my own personal life; including the chance that
his own distant relative, Salvador, was sent to me in 1965, to show
me, and not Miss Wescott; how to tap my fingers in really cool ways,
so that 'lightning' will respond to this, up in 1983; on a telephone
receiver.
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC
TRACK
ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.
To
sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog, and click the
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555; and scroll down until the page comes up
with the words to the song, YO.
Oh
boy, here comes the sub-woofers, let us see how bad this gets folks,
as 911 is only a telephone call away, and I have a working landline
phone.
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00010-BLOG-A
12:50
AM-EST
EARLY
MONDAY MORNING HERE AT FORT PIERCE, FL
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR, BLOGS 'URLS'
Without
beginning in 2006, and at least skimming through my seven year
blogging career, you will be totally clueless to what all of this
MORIANITY
is all about, and maybe it is better that way; as who can ever know?
I
got through a slightly better weekend, but learned quite a lot of
powerful things. Even though, and if you don't know about APE or
Applied Parallel Event, and have not read about it on my many
postings and many blogs, then this will make as much sense to you as
your dog throwing sticks for you to fetch, and you agreeing to its
game; but despite the cunt lapping PHILADELPHIA
FLYERS ICE HOCKEY TEAM
NOT PLAYING THIS SEASON, meaning
that I should not have had anywhere near this bad of a fucking time
of things since late ass September, when the total mother fucking
opposite is what actually occurred; there was a very good reason
indeed, for the fucking shit that has been pummeling me, since this
time of the GREAT INTERACTION OF WHAT I'LL REFER TO HERE, AS
CHAIN-2, 42.7 years apart, as far as being why I say 2, as in
one and then two, the first wild interaction with this CHAIN,
was in early middle December somewhere, back in the fucking ass year
of 1969, YO YO!!!
This
horrible twenty-twelve year, that now has 22 hours and mother fucking
49 minutes left in it, and so, REAL MORIANS know why I am doing
fucking this right now, 555555555555 plus 555555555555555555555 times
555555555555555555, is equal to I do not give a rats hell in hot
moldy puke at light speed squared, but yes; this year is nearing its
horrendous evil ass end, and GOOD RIDDANCE
to this rotten filthy fucking year of absolute shitty stenchy hell
for me. Oh yes, the entire year was horrible; and broken down into
three major events, that made it this way; all though as they were
coming into my life I of course was totally unable to see the
Forrest, from the Jason trees. First was the HUTCHINSON
ISLAND BEACH ROBBERY, where all my shit was stolen by some
filthy criminal fucking thief, while I went swimming that day around
the first day of summer. Then in early autumn, one season later, came
the powerful CHAIN-2 WILD INCREDIBLE DREAM,
with my kid. This seemed to do many things all at that very same
time, along with the hellish nightmare of the 'psychic stereo',
discussed on many blogs from these past days. Also during all of
this, was my attempt to post up a song, remade from a song that I'd
written at the age of twenty-eight and a half years, back in the late
spring time in 1983 called, “Girl, I'll Tell You Anything”,
renamed and redone with slight alterations, a new title, and new
lyrical content; the 2012 title now being, “YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”. Then the big automobile repair expense
when I am living right down to the penny-wire, and this 120 dollars
may seem laughable to a lot of you reading this, but to me, IT
FUCKING ENDED MY WORLD, and forced me onto a bread and water diet,
frikkin literally, throughout this fucking unspeakable and brutal
last month, of this despicable, and deplorable year, of 2012. This
was money that I did not have, and caused me to borrow it from my
State Farm monthly auto debit pay system; so I will need to pay them
their normal insurance monthly amount twice in January, which is why
I have been forced to mother fucking cancel my COMCAST
CABLE SERVICE, to compensate, or I will be eating bread
and water, and crackers and piss for another month, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I've lost my only e-mail
address, as of around January the tenth, as when the cancellation
kicks in, the internet and the e-mail fucking go,
BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So these three cunt
lapping mother fucking total disasters, WIPED ME FUCKING COCK SUCKING
TOTALLY OUT IN 2012, YO YO!!!!!
W-------O-------W
DID
THIS YEAR WIPE ME TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY OUT, GOOD FOLKS, YO,
WHAAAAAAAAA, but SUPER-WOW,
more wild shit is happening, and not all of it is bloggable.
When
I went to sleep two nights ago or really, I suppose it was Saturday
morning right after it started getting light outdoors, I went into a
major wild interaction that was so beyond telling in mortal words,
that it is like comparing the attempt to do so, with trying to beat
up a heavyweight boxing champion, when you are at the age of four. It
involved the same bridge that I was at where Sarah had her yellow
telephone some place close, and this occurred while working at that
Roadway Trucking site for 29 straight hour shifts, before such things
became federally illegal to do, back in the first years of this third
millennium. I cannot tell you too much, other than the fact, that if
anyone were to read the last few months of my 2007 blogs, and then
early into my 2008 blogs; you would begin to see some strange things
that without so doing, reading past the time shortly to follow this,
where I was not blogging at all and was totally off-grid for about
seventy days; would make no sense at all, yet by reading back from
say early autumn in 2007 until I do stop the blogs for seventy days,
well, do it; and then get a major unfathomable frikkin mind blow,
from here to fucking 'eternity, maternity, and Outer Limits early
sixties great black and white television shows'. Oh Jennifer and
Tiffany, where are the two of you when this poor old ugly fat slob
wehtahd needs you so much, like Hyundai-2006-DUH??
I've
said it before, and will say it again, EMOTION is a powerful reality,
that is a lot more than just some part of chemistry reactions, on the
Physical Plane, taking part in brain matter of humans. First off,
there are five senses, and all of us have varying degrees of acuity
of all of them, some see better, some see worse; same thing goes with
hearing, tasting, smelling, and feeling. This last one, as my kid
might say, should be “Put on top”, local walls notwithstanding.
This is because, this sense can do some really amazing stuff, when it
is increased beyond the norms. You can feel things to the point where
your heart will explode, and you would die. I am able to daydream in
ten seconds from full normal waking beingness, into interactions so
frightening, such as falling off of a mountain or a tall building,
that my heart literally explodes, and then the World Laboratories
needs to retrace me again. To practice this, anyone can do this on
lesser degrees. Just tune out all else around you and see yourself
falling off of a large height, and tumbling, and keep doing it, and
believing it, until your heart races; and after a minute or so, the
average person pulls back and stops, takes a few deep breaths, and
hopes that their heart slows back down. Now this is just an example.
With enough controlled sense feeling, you can place yourself
anywhere, at any time, and the daydream will become an eventual full
blown dual reality. You can hear people in cars talking privately,
and learn secrets, even though they may be thousands of miles away.
You can place yourself into deep space, and battle enemies with more
emotion than watching the greatest sci-fy show or movie ever written
and made, on the greatest movie screen or home theater system. This
is the ultimate so called VR, or Virtual Reality. Only a very few
peeps are doing this, and can do this; and I am one of them; but I
talk about it. Others are all in fear of rejection, and scorn; and
being totally sociologically ostracized from their lives. They still
do this, but they keep it very secret. Hmm. Well, let me get off of
this yellow-telephone now, Ingrid in early 1984, as this is getting
very-very-very old, right Copyright Office Examiners of those times,
YO? I could say a trillion octillion more things, but it may be wiser
to just do a Sidney Mirrors Crown here, and just shut the shit
up!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION, FOLKS,
WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY
00008-BLOG-A
2:30
AM-EST-HERE IN ROTTEN ASS FORT PIERCED, FL
EARLY
ON A SATURDAY ROTTEN LOUSY STINKING
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING,
YO
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION, DOGS:
Gee
willagars, lads and lassies, I have a few things to tell you before I
crash and burn out of this super mother fucking BOTBAR ASS DAY, YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Golly,
gash, darn, Copyright Office of 1988, and fellow time manipulators,
along with Petee Pote, and Sheri Lee as well, with SHOE BOXES, and
Saturn Automobiles; huh Stephanie, YO? So let us get right down to
fucking cases, shall we BRO and SIS?
That
slutty little mother fucking demon is back, who I have named
'DISDEE'
for Disappearing Demon entity, the little bitchy
whore, that enjoys making my shit vanish out of sight; sometimes for
good and all, right Ebeneezer Scrooge?
I
asked the great GAWKY GAUKAUK KITTY CAT
some things, and now need to share it with my BLOGAUD, YO.
Before
I get to the Q&A GAWNUM SHIT folks, I need to tell you, that my
mother fucking illegal jerk off neighbors have been PURE FUCKING CUNT
HELL AGAIN, for the past few days. Monday, I am driving over to the
Fort Pierce Police Station, and signing a complaint against them for
personal harassment. I am taking these fucking jit bag scum suckers
to court. Then I am suing the Public fucking Housing Authority, for
mistreatment. All day again, and worse than ever, SLAMMING FUCKING
DOORS, HALLWAY SHOUTING, BOOMING SUBWOOFER STEREO NOISE, and that's
exactly what it fucking is, no talented fucking rotten
NOISE!!!!!!!!!!!!
People
who can actually write music and sing to it, are out of business, as
now we basically have, and have had for a long while, THE
NOISE INDUSTRY. I do not know where the fucking music
industry vanished into. Maybe I should cunt eating ask my rotten
friend, DISDEE????????????????
I
asked three questions, and also, played another SYSTEM-ROULETTE game,
winning another fucking 3 units for a total of 4 units today on super
BOTBAR TIMES TWO, or $400.00 on the 1986 Atlantic City gaming level
that I used to play, when I would go to the New Jersey fucking ass
casinos back then,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not going to
lie to you folks, THIS IS A REAL COCK SUCKING KICK ASS ROULETTE
SYSTEM, RIGHT UP CLOSE TO PARALLEL EVENT ITSELF. Jason Forrest and
his garbage WFMU has me plastered on the internet, discussing a tiny
bit of the topic of applying parallel event to this game of roulette,
on that fucking page he put up about 'MEET MARK', and 'Crackpots From
New Jersey'. Turn down that pull gain, Jason, at least DEEZY SLIM
does not distort his music on YOUTUBE. If you cannot hit his magic
levels, without distorting; then turn it down,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me keep my transdimensional
Cifaloglio boss happy, so I don't get lifted up off the ground, or
for that matter, let me keep Nick happy, so he doesn't grab my throat
again, like he did elsewhere in hyperspace, at the fucking
Lakehouse, back in early Oh-M-9. SHEEEIT!!!!!
OK,
I'm bushed Mister ex-President, so let me get the 2 Q&A things
done, and sign the hell off of this blog.
QUESTION
1 FOR THE GAWNUM:
WHO
OR WHAT IS MOST RESPONCIBLE FOR MY TOTAL FUCKING 2012 MISERIES, AND
WANTS ME DEAD THE MOST OUT OF ALL OF MY WOMO-M2F ENEMIES???????????
ANSWER-PCN-121,
THESE INCLUDE MY ITEMS AS FOLLOWS YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
APRIL
TWENTY SEVEN TWENTY ELEVEN----''GLOOMY SUNDAY'' SONG----ROYAL
FLUSH----DANCE MUSIC----CHERRY HILL----EMPIRE STATE
BUILDING-----------------------------------
QUESTION
2 FOR THE GAWNUM:
WHY
AM I SO PREVENTED AND SANCTIONED, FROM BEING ABLE TO LIVE, USE SOCIAL
MEDIA, HAVE MY OWN FAMILY, HAVE ANY KIND OF A NORMAL LIFE AT ALL, OR
EVER BE ONE BIT RECOGNIZED FOR MY TALENTS AS A WRITER OF ANY KIND,
WHEN I KNOW DAM WELL I AM NOT ALL THAT TERRIBLE; AND REALLY FUCKING
YUKKY SHIT IS GETTING MILLIONS OF HITS AND VIEWS?????????????
ANSWER-PCN-220,
THESE INCLUDE MY ITEMS AS FOLLOWS YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ASTRAL
PLANE----MARIAH CAREY COMING TO ME IN DREAMS----BOOK OF BEACH----HIP
HOP MUSIC----MOUNTAINPEN----GODDESS JEHOVAH'S DREAM----DONNA
SUMMER----JEDD CLAMPETT----LIVE FOREVER----TEENAGED GIRLS FLIRTING
WITH ME IN MY FIFTIES----SANDRA MASON
WELL
FOLKS, YO, I AM GOING TO SLEEP, AND HOPEFULLY I WILL NOT HAVE
HORRIBLE FUCKING NIGHTMARES, TO USE YOUR FORWARD MORTAL LINGO HERE,
WHAAAAAAAAAA.
Maybe
it is just a coincidence, but it is funny that this nabe shit started
up real bad, right after I was working on a wild new system for
winning lotteries. I did not say anything, but “THEY” fucking
know every cunt lapping thing I do. How can I win, or beat something;
that as even SUPERMAN was quoted
as saying, in the original 1957 black and white television show,
about the machine that could turn the crooks and robbers invisible;
“That I can't see”? He makes
one hell of a point, with or without any horses, fudge shops, Warren
Grove, New Jersey's; or accidents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
Trump, Wolf, Macy, and all others, let's do it, and get it fucking
over with, to quote old Tommy Pervert Reale, from 1970,
*****W----O----W*****.
WHAAAAAAA!!!
END
TRANSMISSION, YO DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, 1983 REWRITE
(C)2012
NEW LYRICS, FROM OLD TUNE,
'GIRL,
I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING'
COPYRIGHT
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983 ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE
THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
THIS
DAM SONG HAS CAUSED THE WORST YEAR FOR ME NOW, SINCE I DIED OF AIDS
IN 1983; AND AS YOU KNOW, NOTHING CAN KILL ME FOREVER, AND THE GRAVE
IS UNABLE TO HOLD A CURSED, AND CHOSEN
HUNTINGTON.
LISTEN
TO THIS ON YOUTUBE, AND SING ALONG, YO!
IN
THE MIDDLE OF JANUARY OF 2013, I GET INTO STUFF ABOUT WHY FOLKS WILL
NOT TRUST USING MY LINKS, AS THERE SEEMS TO BE SOME MAGICAL HACKING,
THAT IS CONNECTED TO ALL OF THIS; SO KEEP READING FROM HERE THROUGH
THE BLOGS OF JANUARY, OF TWENTY-THIRTEEN, GOOD FOLKS.
DO
NOT DOUBT TIME MAINPULATION, OR 'STM'.
IT
IS REAL.
IT
MAY NOT WORK THE WAY YOU THINK IT DOES.
BUT
PEOPLE, I ASSURE YOU, IT IS VERY REAL, AS REAL AS REAL CAN EVER BE;
AND A CODE FROM SSJKK.
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY
00007-BLOG-C
5:25 PM-EST
SUPER BOTBAR X
2, SUPER SIEGE X 1
FORT PIERCE,
FLORIDA, USA ES-MWG
STARTING
FUCKED UP TWEETY BIRD BWOG, WHAA.
OK,
John HOSEDREAMS KING MONKS, and other
Morians, Lessians, and all Inbetweenians out here, YO; I played five
short ROULETTE GAMES, AND MADE
SIX UNITS OF PROFIT, OR $600.00, as I play on the money chip black
hundred dollar gaming level; this of course is played hypothetically,
but will not always be, and later on, I'll fucking blow your mind
with some really wild fucking mathematical shit, folks. My QUANTUM
ROULETTE was four out of the five games, and I played my enemy
faction of WOMO NABE-SCUM twice, and my enemy faction of WOMO AIR
PERSECUTOR DIRTBAGS twice, and with the NABES, ended up flat even
with them. With the aerial persecutors however, it was minus one on
the first game, and plus three on the second game, for a +2 PROFIT,
so the NABES was a 0. The other four units came from my really
fucking dynamite system, and this made me four units of profit, or
$400.00 of profit, a total day profit, on one of the worst days of my
fucking life, and worst two day Botbar string; of $600.00, using the
black gaming chips that I used in Atlantic City, in 1986. Yesterday
on Botbar X 1, I quit at one unit ahead, so the systems roulette made
me a two day total of $500.00, during these last two days of SUPER
FUCKING HELL, or an average of $250.00/day, AND EVEN ON THE GREEN
QUARTER LEVEL, AN AVERAGE OF $62.50 FOR BOTH DAYS OF MISERY AND
FUCKING ASS HELL. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA HA HA HA
HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
asked my GAGA magic black Astral-Plane kitty cat, just
YYYYYYYYYYYYYY, with or without any cool toys like bikes, trains, or
1981 video-games; this 2 days of hell-death-siege, and BOTBAR attack,
struck again after two quiet days that followed fucking cunt eleven
straight days of super shit, like that was not enough punishment, and
fucking torture for me to fucking ass endure; and the reply to my dam
query, was PCN-660.
Here are the gods dam match-book items for this number, answering my
question of this unspeakable fucking eternal suffering that I'm cunt
eating going through, L-4, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEALTH---POLICE---DREAMS---FREDERICK
HINGER.
TWEET-TWEET-TWEET,
& ENDING BLOG, YO!!!!!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00007-BLOG-B
2:30
PM-EASTERN STANDARD TIME
SUPER
MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR, AND DEATH SIEGE,
FROM
WOMOTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE FUCKING SCUM, FBI:
CHEMTRAILS,
and BLASTING SUBWOOFER EVIL MONSTER NEIGHBORS,
are making this BOTBAR TIMES TWO DAY, MONSTROUS, HORRENDOUS, AND
FUCKING TOTALLY DEPLORABLE. MY ENTIRE FUCKIING DECEMBER IS FAR WORSE
THAN EVEN AUGUST OF MOTHER FUCKING 1986. I KNOW YOU HAVE NEVER CUNT
EATING HEARD THIS BEFORE, FROM THE FUCKING ASS
MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DEBBIE
WAS OUTSIDE ON HER SMOKE BREAK AT THE PARKING LOT SOUTH SIDE ENTRANCE
TO THE BUILDING, WHEN I CONFRONTED HER ABOUT STUFF, AND IN PERSON.
SHE TOLD ME, THAT IF INDEED I MARRY, SHE WILL MOVE ME TO A ONE
BEDROOM UNIT, FAR AWAY FROM THESE EVIL FUCKING PEEPS FROM HELL, IN
UNIT #608, WITH THE BIG LION HANGING OUTSIDE THE DOOR; WHICH HAS BEEN
THERE EVER SINCE THEY MOVED IN HERE, TO SHOW ME THEY
ARE KING, AND THAT THEY HAVE BEEN SENT HERE BY THE DOCTOR
CORAL SAGAN UPPING IT ONE DIMENSION L&M CIGARETTE COMPANY. ARE MY
MESSAGES GETTING ACROSS, OLD FUCKING BUDDY, RON WIRTZ SENIOR, from
the NINETIES, AT THE FUCKING CAMDEN COUNTY
PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE IN NEW JERSEY, FUCKING YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO ????????????????
“Chemtrails
of 1987” *** 'MY' PERSONAL STORY ON YT.
“YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER”
***
THEY
TOTALLY HACK ME, AND VIOLATE MY FIRST AMMENDMENT RIGHTS, AND GET
FUCKING TOTALLY AWAY WITH IT, YO. Someday, you all will burn in
eternal fucking ass hot hell, you cock licking ass
bastards!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Techno-pop,
created/produced/sang/ entirely by computer technology. Still, most
peeps above shoe size IQ, know that the
intro to the song,
was the sample for the harmony vocals, wow; what a new age we are
living in, YO.
Hacking
again, FEDS; as the 'share' will not work. I had to type in the
address of my work here, and underline it, so it may
or may not hyperlink in. I intend to try it, once I post up to my
Wordpress, and my Blogger sites. All of this is a total violation
of my civil rights, and you know this, SHERIFF MONKS, and
sit there idly by, and let the 36th
Avenue's get away with it, SHAME ON YOU SHIRLEY GLANDS DOOGIE 2!
THE
MORNING LIGHT, © MARK WAYNE MOHR, 1980, WRITTEN IN 1979, OWNED 100%
BY ME, ASK THE © OFFICE.
YES,
THE MORNING LIGHT WORKS, CHEMTRAILS OF 1987 WORKS, BUT THE YBCO SONG
WILL NOT UNDERLINE WHEN I DO THE VERY SAME COPY JOB, AND HIT ENTER
SPACE. IT SHOULD UNDERLINE, FCC, AND FBI, AND WILL NOT; AS GOOGLE HAS
BEEN HACKING ME FROM 36TH AVENUE, ALL THIS TIME; AND THERE IS NO
STOPPING IT. AND THEN YOU FUCKING WONDER WHY I WANT TO END THIS SICK
DISEASED FUCKING TWISTED WORLD, WHEN THERE CAN NEVER BE ANY LIFE, OR
ANY JUSTICE FOR FUCKING ME; NOT
CUNT EATING EVER, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!
********END
TRANSMISSION:********
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00007-BLOG-A
2:21
AM-EST
ENDLESS
HACKING, ENDLESS PERSECUTION
JUST
AS CONDOR AND FALCON SAID WOULD BE.
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
The
computer was hacked big time, by my GOOGLE enemies at the (650)
world. Watch out, Nitro might bite you, Lenny. Oh well, if not, go to
Westmont, New Jersey; back in early June of 1969, as Roseann Delaney
will definitely take a nice chunk out of your passionate neck. FBI,
you should be so fucking ashamed of yourselves, allowing all this to
be done to me; you miserable mother fucking jerk offs. Not only am I
a citizen of this gods forsaken ass hole nation, but my seventh
grand-pappy was one of the founding fathers, and served many terms as
the Governor of Connecticut, long before we shot up innocent
children; dying in office in the year of 1790, along with his good
pal, Benny Franklin. Still, you should all burn in fucking hell for
this endless persecution of a totally innocent victim. I did not
cause your recent fucking disaster, as nobody goes up onto my site,
so how can I be? It only happens if lots of folks view and hear
something, electronically posted or recorded; that comes from what
you mortal ignoramus's call, the 'dream-worlds'. I have posted up
about twenty blog links on the new work, yeah right new my ass, as if
Orwell and his days are new, try fucking coming up on thirty cunt
lapping years ago, YO. I have no cock sucking rights, or civil
liberties, in this country. I can do something that is perfectly
legal, but when I do; I get covert persecution. Tell me that's
freedom, and I'll fucking whip myself off three times fast, in front
of the nine Supreme Court Justices, in Washington; and don't think
that I mother fucking won't, you dam snake bums. You know who you
are. When I curse at folks, the innocent know it is not directed at
them, and those who even have to wonder and scratch their heads for a
minute, they know it is meant indeed for them, right ya' pricks?
When
they thought that my MORIANITY was done and over with, and it was for
a while, the nabes got quiet. As soon as it started up as fucking ass
MORIANITY-2, KA-POW
and HYPER-BOOM,
all hell broke
loose, as if this should fucking cunt shock me one cock licking tiny
bit, YO?
Folks,
I have been illegally wet works covertly halted, sanctioned, stopped,
and totally prevented, since the day that I was sent to the NJNP
Institute of Princeton, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in September of 1965,
for my sixth fucking ass grade school year, until late in June of
1966; oh wonderful Salvador Ventura, my old pal from there; by some
force that I can only give the name of, and have thus done, the
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE;
and for reasons that are totally unfathomable even to me; from having
any kind of normal interaction with Planet Earth's global society, in
any mother fucking way, EVER. This would include anything pertaining
to relationships, and normal family situations, spouses, normal
children that can be recognized, and stuff in non direct family ways,
yet still social circles; and the proof of this is when I attempt to
join this new fucking age social media, and am totally prevented, and
messed with. Also, not just am I sanctioned socially, but
financially; as 'they'-'WM2' destroyed my entire education, and it
was a major fucking evil conspiracy from the swing bat, since I was
the age of ten years, and the James Stoy School in Westmont had to be
in on it somehow back then, and my principal, Miss Turner, a very
nice lady of about age sixty, give or take ten years, as memory can
make this unclear from the perspective of a ten year old. Google
refused to offer me any help when I asked them about how to do a
Youtube Page,
or bring traffic up to view my posted music videos, and I ended up
fucking hanging up the cock sucking telephone on them early yesterday
fucking afternoon. They said that no humans are available to speak to
about Youtube, it is all robotic, so for those who are internet and
computer challenged, as many older folks such as myself are, we by
pure fucking default, have been singled out to be SHUT OUT AND
IGNORED; not permitted to ever share our stuff with each other, as
just because you youngsters out fucking here from 8-46 or so, think
you're all so hot and great, we exist too, and we should be able to
share our stuff from our day and our culture in music. If all you
want is loud thumping and no talent whatsoever, and this brings you
millions of views, fine, that is your world; but we old fucking farts
should not be excluded from this device and technology, as our world
has every bit as much of a fucking cunt right to exist, and exchange
free expression on this tool, as any of you whipper fucking cunt
snappers. Screw all of you. I am all packed up, and leaving next week
for fucking MEXICO, and this time, it is fucking final. You never
thought that I'd leave New Jersey, and I said I would over and over
and over, and you just keep fucking cunt pushing me, and pushing me
until I couldn't take it any longer; and so in the dead of fucking
night, on the eleventh of December in 2009, POP, I was gone forever
from there, vanished, kaput, fuck you, Ann and Dawn; and fuck your
whole rotten miserable family of
monsters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Diana Ross said something
in 1983 that I still have a copy of, and will treasure it until the
day I wake up out of this nightmare life, as I could not agree with
her more, if she threw me down, and fucked my brains out all night
long, “I DON'T NEED
THIS, NO HOW, NO NOTHING”!
I
still have some 'AT BATS' left, before I do trudge down to fucking
Mexico; so
don't go counting a strike three on me yet, ya' jit
bag snake turds. I don't quit and run away, with my head under my
broken wings, as easily as you 'WOMO' scum enemies may wish I'd do.
Eat me, you fucking gods dam scum bag low life bottom feeding toilet
water lappers.
Well
folks, Dave Roth tried to buy a set of drums, and I told the story of
the day his only car, a used Caddy, died on him; many times on these
past seven fucking years of my blogs, YO DOGS, WOLF WOLF! Any time
either he or I ever tried to do ANYTHING WHATSOEVER, having to do
with MUSIC, in any way, shape, or form, disaster struck each and
every time. This is why I know indeed that there are Astral-Plane
gods who enjoy teasing certain targeted folks, and playing endless
games with them, as pure distracting amusement; keeping them from
thinking about the truth of never not being able to exist, and if you
mortals understood this, you would go insane. Get on your fucking
knees and pray to whoever you do thank, that you merely see me as a
tin foil hat crazy person, and that you have no idea at all, what is
being told on Morianity all this time. I am not trying to create a
large group of babbling idiots, gone crazy forever from reading my
blogs, but I do know that a select few have been effected by my
words, as I have proof of my own, that this is indeed the total
absolute truth. I call it the Joe Paget Syndrome, speaking of
straight lines from Fort Pierce, Florida, leading due north to
Roadway Trucking, in Pennsylvania, in the Hatboro area, near the
intersection of Route 309, and County Line Road; in the county that I
was physically born in, at the Brwn Mawr Hospital, at 9:30 AM on the
fourth of December in 1954, called, no not Elizabeth, not Twitchy
Witch Nose, but the County of Montgomery, like the general. My mother
welcomes you, both Generals, as I know that you are enjoying the
hospitality of the Ricktown Manor Restaurant, and your pal George is
normally there at his endlessly reserved table, that spins around for
unknown reasons, called, table number fifteen.
FBI,
this computer is not here for you guys, or others that you should be
protecting me from out in San Mateo County, Cali, and anyone's
amusement. I have legal fucking rights, so please respect them. If
you feel I need to be fucking prosecuted, and you think you can prove
some crime in your physical world court system; then have the cops
come up here and fucking cuff me, and take me to jail. Otherwise,
help me, or leave me alone; or find out what and why this is all
happening to me; and from whom, so I can press fucking charges; and
have my chance at a little bit of life that is more than deserved,
after 30 years of fucking making me suffer through unmentionable, and
unspeakable, and despicable torture.
I
think that agents are playing with me and have been now for about
13,000 fucking years, along with their fucking Transdimensional Trunk
Devices, that nearly got my poor elderly mother killed, and me along
with her back on August two, in 1996; at the New Jersey, Turnersville
Pathmark Shopping Center, on the Black Horse Pike. The Bible is a
very fascinating thing; last trumps, marks of beasts, white and black
horses, I mean, it is my life come alive, only two mother fucking
thousand years after the dam fact, YO!!!!!!!!
Yes,
the girl who played 'SARAH', on the television show called, “PARTY
OF FIVE”, went onto play in a
future show called, “GHOST
WHISPERER”. She was always
crossing people over, who died but seemed to be Earthbound. Well, try
crossing me over, as I have repeated this nightmare for more than 200
times now, and will go on doing it, until SARAH KRASSLE relents, and
tells me she loves me, right here in the physical world. I am sick
and tired of her dam teen aged games. http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU
End Tranny.
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00006-BLOG-B
2:03
PM-EASTERN STANDARD TIME
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE'D' FLORIDA, BOTBARADA
MARK
WAYNE MOHR
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
FUCK
THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Another super BOTBAR day has
struck me folks, and DECEMBER has never had more than two cock
sucking ass days without a freaking ass BOTBAR, not fucking cunt
ONCE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
was rudely awakened and assaulted, by my lowlife two legged roaches,
also known as neighbors, from across the hall, in unit #608, at just
past noon, two hours ago, with that pounding demonic mother fucking
subwoofer attack.
My
game-plan is simple. I will ask the reference desk at my local
library down by the Indian River, to research just who I need to
write to, as someone that is in my situation, at the Public Housing
Authority of Fort Pierce; and get the name and the address. The
letter is already done, and waiting to be placed into an envelope,
stamp already affixed, and waiting to go. It merely tells that I am
forced to go over the head of the building Resident Property Manager,
Mizz Debbie Marotto, as she will not do one thing to stop these
lawbreakers from harassing me on a continual basis, ever since they
moved in across the hall from fucking me in early autumn of eleven,
right old buddy, Darius Evans Slim? Glad to be of service, dude, and
after all, you did produce those three music video slide-show movies,
and posted it up to the rotten Youtube. Yes ladies and gentlemen,
MORIANITY-2 has gotten off to a really fucking ass bad start. I tried
to contact the YOUTUBE, but human contact with anything 'GOOGLE
related, is goose eggs ZERO-NADA-ZILCH-NONE-OVER-FINE'-AND WONDER
BREAD EARLY NINETIES RIPPED OFF TELEVISION COMMERCIALS. I had many
questions that are necessary for me to know and understand, and they
only have robot crap, both on the telephone, and online on their
site. Without help, I do not know how to make this 'homepage' that
they talk about, or bring any traffic to my site, and that is why not
one single person is up on it. So don't fucking blame me for the
storm, you cock suckers. I did nothing to cause it. All of the 15
views on the newest tune were attempts to link up the youtube share
number, onto my blogs, where nobody will click onto anyway, for
obvious, TOTAL MIND CONTROL REASONS.
The KJV BIBLE tells me all I need to know, the shit about the MARK of
the beast, the last TRUMP, and much much much more, that if I tied it
all together, and put a real pretty bow on top of it; would most
likely get me murdered within hours of my posting up this
information. I am learning as I go, slow and steady. Some folks age
58 years, are whizzes at this shit. Count me 'NOT'
amongst all of this. I guess I must face the fact that I'm a big fat
ugly old stupid fucking wehtahd!!!!!!!!!! The scripture that explains
that in the final thousand years of suffering and hellishness on this
planet of twisted disease, ruled by SATAN,
or the world of electronics, greed, corporate ownership of 99% of the
population, and total control over all of our lives; as this beats
any of the 4 winds or 4 horsemen, when it is left in a parable; any
day of the cunt lapping fucking week; don't you think, peeps, YO??? I
called the Comcast Cable folks, and they were very nice to me,
letting me keep my television service until early April, when I will
restore my service back to full; and I need not turn in my rented
apparatus; modems, whatever, since it is a short time duration. This
will save me all kinds of fees, plus high priced gasoline, and car
wear and tear, as the local office here in town is no longer in
service, as some of my audience is aware of, from reading that real
hellish BOTBAR day, some months back, when I thought that my TV Cable
Box had broken; only it suddenly just popped back up in fine working
order again; as did my mother fucking apartment air conditioning
system. Nee-nee-nee-nee-----nee-nee-nee-nee!! Where are you when we
could both use each other, Mister Rod ass Serling, of the Twilight
Zone, BRO?????????? Now my TV will stay on for a special offer price,
keeping all the channels that I now have, during this otherwise
off-service period, and including the tax, will be about 33 and a
half dollars for the next three months, instead of about just over
120 bucks a month. For keeping the TV, I could not resist that deal.
What has hurt me so much was the two automobile related expenses.
When your finances are practically down to the penny wire, a sudden
$60 registration tax fee, compounded with a mechanic bill of $120,
adds up to 180 fucking bucks that I just do not have; so this is my
only way of coming close to recouping the loss. An 85 dollar monthly
saving for three months will compensate for this loss of nearly 200
smacks. I am tired of living on piss and fucking crackers, while
putting up with persecution and harassment on top of it. This is
worse than living in fucking MAXIMUM
SECURITY PRISON,
and don't be too surprised if I go off soon, and end up in jail, as I
will live better in fucking jail, than I do in here. More sex, more
dope to make me forget the misery, 3 hots and a cot, and a gym to
keep in shape, a job in the laundry, and I can live with that; and no
fucking looking at chemtrails, and hearing loud aerial harassment.
Sounds like a hell of a deal, so don't be shocked, Sheriff Mascara,
if I go out and punch a cop right in the nose any day now, just to
get to fucking cunt lapping prison. You see, this is what I tried to
talk about after the Connecticut mass school shooting, but does
anyone listen? Yes, two people that meant a lot to me once, and I
still do try and overlook their shortcomings; but they have let me
down big time, and also think its funny in my opinion; and definitely
know who they are. Well then fine, cool, HA HA HA HA on poor old
fucked up little me, BRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
played the
system-roulette, and I made a few quick units
profit, and quit while I was ahead; before I started this blog, and
before I called the cable company. It amazes me how this great system
holds up throughout an entire month such as mother fucking, DECEMBER
OF 2012, as this is every bit as bad, AND WORSE; than
when this shit all got going, on and
after, the magic
evil date of August 15, 1986. By the way, I cannot post
anything with the numbers followed by little letters, such as a
shortened version of twelfth, or eighteenth, or second, and so forth;
on the blogger dot com website; as it hacks out every time. If I want
to make a second copy on my 3.1 Office Word Document System, I paste
into a copy blog and keep one the way I want it to be, and one for
posting. 'There is always some way around most things', a quote from
the fucking pathetic twisted old ugly diseased screwed up Huntington
Cursed MOUNTAINPEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
also asked GAGA CAT why this attack struck just past noon, from my
demonic evil uncouth enemy WOMO-MILITUFORCE PAWM-PIE-ETTOS-CONTROLLED
NEIGHBORS from unit #608, and the response given to me by the kitty
cat, was PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER-396, INCLUDING SHIT SUCH AS
FOLLOWS BELOW, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MAD----CAN----POTATO
TEACUP----BURN WITH FIRE----RIPPED OFF 'LOST LOVE'
SONG----BUM----OIL----IAH----LAW----DIE----HARBORFIELDS----OVER THE
RIVER----OVER THE RADAR----
Well
you know, or you should know, if you are a follower of this
MORIANITY, 1 or 2; MIZZ JULIA WHITE PERMISSION BARRIER-1994-HALLOWEEN
DAY; that there are three major weapons used by the great
ASTRAL-PLANE LAMBRIGG CULT, WHILE THEY ARE DREAMED
DOWN INTO THE FIFTH DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE; AND THESE ARE, THE
PAWM-PIE-ETTOS, the illegal usage of APE against any innocent
targeted victims, unable to defend themselves on non level playing
fields, in this endless games-of-the-gods-distraction bull fucking
shit hell; APE standing for
(APPLIED PARALLEL EVENT), and there is also the usage of illegal
application of the technology of MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE, OR MP-TECK.
APE, MP-TECK or just MPT, are all so powerful; that no human waking
person, can accept those truths in their waking so-called real
tangible caporial physical life, as human beings. It is just too
terrible to believe, or sort of like a hundred cancers, all striking
all those who you care about overnight, or 'JOB100', when expressed
perhaps better algebraically. Any new thing that connects me, they
love to bring it in bad; IE, months, years, new blog books, such
as MORIANITY-2, and on and on I could mother fucking
go with this folks. If something begins bad, and continues bad, it
becomes very heavily magnetized to complete and finish up that way,
BAD, and the same would of course apply to good, only I certainly am
no fucking authority on that, and can bear nobody out here, any
witness to attest to the positive end of this technology when
misapplied by enemies, in my case, the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, I have learned that both APET and
AMPT have been used on me, by a totally invisible and stealthy,
covert, black operations, group of some kind; right after I came out
of whatever it was, that I exited from, after falling down on my
Cherry Hill, New Jersey bed, on the night of 08-15-1986; and then
waking up that morning. Oh yes Darius, old friend; you want to know
why MC wrote that 1997 song, and intro about how I can never ever get
away from the great All Mighty Scylla
Goddess IAM, and you too up there in that lovely and plush
Copyright Office Building, at the LOC in Washington, 13-600; well
then fine. Here is the answer given to me by a great magical
Astral-Plane black cat, by the name of GAWKY
GAUKAUK, shortened by me a couple of years ago, to 'GAGA',
because this cat, and what he knows and tells me; is more than enough
to make any sane mind become one and the same thing with an opened up
Pandora's Box, and really be forever GAGA. Get lost, musicologists,
and let us just keep this little GAWNUM Q&A about the PRIVATE
COSMICODED NUMBER given to me, or PCN. It indeed was given to me, and
it is none other than good old PCN-514; a
real wow answer for this particular question,
if that is, you understood my life as I do, and what these words and
collections of words are of personal meaning to me, and my fucked up
hellfire life for nearly 60 dam ass years,
BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So then folks, here are
the match-book items in my lists, the old school world from Midevel
and Biblical days for list, is not camera, or monster ass, or hub cap
smash, or even rubber car repairs; but it is, and you can ask the dam
Pope if you don't believe me, “CANON”, a list, a group of things
that are taken from a normally larger group, where for reasons that
could get one tortured and killed in screaming agony not all that
long ago; eliminated some stuff on a bigger list, and then merely
called the accepted smaller list, the canon or the list. When I tried
to contact Youtube today, Sir Sheriff Gregory Monks; guess what; they
are not that far from your office, and your area; with the non human
contact telephone number of none other than (650) 623-4000, a real
Macy word could be used here, right my wonderful followers, and no, I
am not mad or disappointed in any of you. Jesus had his Judas, and
many other cowards who were too scared to get behind a greater leader
than I could ever be, despite family genetics; and don't take me to
Berlin, New Jersey whatever you do, and never on the twelfth of July,
or you may just really, “GET ME GOING” here,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At the end of this blog, are
the match-list items for PCN-514 so don't leave me yet peeps. Scroll
down, click, or do what you want to do, BRO, its your life, and your
funeral, when someday the 'Cali Car Yeller's Club', just may end
frikkin up growing, and targeting a lot more of us little
Occupy-99ers; and then your odds will grow
and grow, of either becoming one of their victims, or
someone that is near and dear to your dam heart, could become the
target, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555
YOU'LL
BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983
NEW
2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH:
VERSE
ONE
I'm
so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new
Let
me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few
Oh
my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew
We're
down and out, and we will even go to work for you
You
seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two
I
am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue
While
we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe
Oh
please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you
We'll
help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew
But
greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
And
I'm not giving any freaking fish away
VERSE
TWO
So
when you add your salty tears directly in the sea
And
when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me
Just
take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty
And
right into the undertow, and stop annoying me
And
talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish
You
loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch
I
have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled
So
either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed
Guys
like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled
People
say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day
But
I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay
So
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
THREE
They
say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand
And
mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand
Storms
blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died
The
sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried
And
on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned
Ignoring
waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound
Just
another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill
A
lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill
The
king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again
Yet
locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben
I've
been working hard out in the sun all day
So
yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay
And
I'm not giving any of my fish away
VERSE
FOUR
You'll
be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer
You'll
be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer
You'll
be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking
You'll
be crossing over, watching all the others eating
Feasts
with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating
Forever
seeing many fish, but never on your plate
You
had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate
You'll
be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover
Forever
doomed to hear the words you always used to say
That
you've been working hard out in the sun all day
Oh
yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay
So
you're not giving any of your fish away
END
OF SONG.
VIDEO
LINKS FOR BLOGS, FROM YOUTUBE POSTINGS:
MORE
VIDEO LINKS TO BLOG FROM YOUTUBE:
PCN-514,
MATCH-BOOK ITEMS, YO!
BEACH---CURLS---ENDLESS
POVERTY---MOVING COMPOUND---MAUD HUNTINGTON---RUSSELL THAXTON---BY
THE TIME YOU GET THIS MESSAGE, IT WILL BE TOO LATE---
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
END
TRANSMISSION, YO!
MORIANITY-2
JWC2-DAY-00006-BLOG
A
SIXTEEN
MINUTES PAST ONE AM
THURSDAY
MORNING IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Glory
be to me, as I know one thing more than anything else in the entire
world of worlds, totaling all of the hyperspace.
One
scripture that is in the KJV Holy Bible, and only one so far, in my
current 'me life' as Mark Wayne Mohr, is “Ask and it will be given,
knock and the door will open, seek and you will find”. This is both
paraphrased, and changed into non old English without all of the
'thees' and 'thous' and all that stuff, but at the final part of the
message that my sixty-first grandfather's uncle spoke, this screams
at me over the past Astral Plane recognized grouping of interaction,
that would equalize a material world score of so-called time, really
STM, or Space-Time-Mind. There of course is no STM, on the Astral
Plane, but this period there, known as the BRIPER, shortened from the
Briggbase-Period, is reflected in the Earth waking world television
show of some time back, running mid sixties until the beginning of
April, in 1971, called, “Dark Shadows”. Their Fan Club address is
a post office that if you call the post office, they will tell you
the box number I'm sure, and it is located in a place called,
Maplewood, New Jersey. Yes Mister Roddenberry, another 'place' called
New Jersey, and don't play me for a fool. We all know they used me
and my life, to give them that great TNG Star Trek episode about
Wesley Crusher's pal, the “TRAVELER”. Still, the 20 year period
is understood only too well, by me, by the Paul Stoddard Fans, such
as my great and awesome oldest daughter, and yes, by many others that
can all remain as nameless right now, as the dam north winds of cat
chases.
OK
folks, here we go again, old kids, new kids, and if you want to stuff
ear plugs in, along with Mister Marcus, and mister McGinty, go ahead;
you won't make me cry one single tear, kind audience. Forget about,
at least for right now, the Doogie Howser days, and let us take a
little journey quite a bit back in time further, to a time that a
particular 'traveler' and not the fake dude on the STAR TREK TNG
show, but one who is as Sarah said on 10-SC Avenue in the summer of
1969, a bit darker than he was, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA, and yes, he was
always fascinated with me, my high school, and my life, and for
reasons that go beyond just material stuff; whether the few who know
what is being said, can fathom it or not, as they in all perfect
worlds are thinking, well, if you're being totally up front here
about all this stuff, Mountainpen, then what is bigger than great sex
and great wealth, and as I told a new friend of mine recently, on an
e-mail message, the emotion that is experienced by being a real live
'traveler', is like riding a roller coaster at the age of six years
or there about, and then take the thrill of this, if you can, and
multiply that by maybe three or four billion times. Now go ahead
folks, and tell me that would not totally dwarf the greatest sex
life, billions of dollars, or any other thrill that the California
Car Window Hollerers Club of mystery, could ever possibly throw at
anyone. The proof of my statement folks, is the very existence
indeed, OF the CCWH Club, in the first place. Even with all that
happened to me in 1994-1996, this would be as we might say in
mathematics, HD1,000,000,000,000,000,000. That does not stand for
High Definition by the way, but Haddonwood. Now don't go dying on me,
old buddy and partner, Paul. Yes, from September of 1966 through June
of 1968, I attended the Haddon Township High School, and to be
perfectly honest, I could care totally less. But for reasons that
blow me away as of yet, my son in law thinks something about those
days and that place, is monster ass huge, to quote the dude, in a
parallel universe, when he said this to me, when I fell asleep one
night at the Highview Apartments, in early 1996, in Sarah Williams
Town, in New Jersey, Gloucester County, in Monroe Township, don't
slug me one, oh great other traveler, and yes, I've got it all now,
and lots of memory blocks have been knocked away, painful as it may
be, in more ways than one. Maybe he was fine, and hopefully old
George will be, but if not, he is always enjoying the hospitality of
good old Table-15 at the Ricktown Manor Restaurant, on Linelane 9910,
in Ricktown, Olympia. Give it up there, smiling Paul Stoddard. WOW,
Mister Macy, and co-writer old friend Mister Strauss. James
Patterson, try not to be too dam jealous, and no, none of this stuff
is 1% fictional, and I only wish to the gods that I could tell all of
you that it was. But this leads me to the 'HTHS', and a strange kid I
knew from the school just two blocks down the street, for the first
through sixth grade students, called James Stoy Elementary. Albert
Pileggi lived right down the road from both of these schools,
spitting distance, Hannah. Still, Tuggy was a cool dude, and would do
anything for you if he liked you, and if he didn't, well, a name pops
into my head, a grown up version of the kid that I knew in 1967, and
that would be my pal David Roth's best pal for many years before he
even met me at Caldor Department Store #113 in Woodbury Heights,
NJUSAESMWG in November of 1985, and his name was Bob Vandegrift, the
hater of Ronald McDonald, that I told about when my blogs were all
new the first two years, back in oh six and oh seven. Still, there
were reasons for my ending up at the farm outside of Haddonfield that
was special, and had a cosmic reality all its own; just as I informed
my educator in 1970, Mister David Leigh Smith. How I remember Irene
Cara, the lovely eighteen year old diva of 1980, doing the National
Anthem at one of the summer time Philadelphia Phillies games, wow
what a gorgeous dish. Still, Albert Pileggi, Bob Andrews, Irene Cara,
and others, take a back seat to the real reasons that the Phillies
began to be part of a huge parallel event with me and my own personal
life, right around this very time as the eighties replaced the
seventies, and I had actually moved into the farm outside of
Haddonfield, after indeed, and just as I told Smith in 1970, ten
years before that; was no longer producing food, and instead, a new
set of garden type apartments were built, called 'ROBIN HILL'. As I
told Eddie Lynch Himacane on the eighteenth day of December in 2006,
after McGuire and his crew accomplished their mission of again,
destroying another one of my automobiles, this time without almost
murdering me in the weeds and bays outside Atlantic City, and the US
© Office has the tapes of me and Roth in 1988, discussing the entire
thing, so don't play dumb ass with me, any of you; Trump or any of
you other rotten bastards, just quit frikkin insulting my
intelligence, please, TANKS! Yes, as I said to him before he
eventually was forced to board the same bus that I was on this very
route in 1970 that late night in July, the twelfth to be exact,
around 10:30 to quarter shy of eleven somewhere, and right there with
me were the great awesome girl gang that was known by many Jersey
local teen boys, as the Quoddy's or the Quoddy Mockers, or the Quoddy
Mocker Gang, of whom, the great Sarah Callio was one of, along with
Nina Soifer, Paula King, and many others. Oh yes, I said to him, when
he exited the vehicle and headed towards the bus, and he asked me
when I would be able to go to his house, at this time, where he
rented a small one little room, a place owned by the world famous
almost, Hammonton, New Jersey, Judge Frank Rasso, and I quote now
what I said, and maybe Tuggy should have been not so much there with
us that day, but also there with Irene Cara and her two two friends,
and also, not Jason Forrest Donna Summer, but the real 'McCoy', and
maybe he would have been able to heed a warning meant for him, a lot
more than it ever was meant for Eddie Lynch, “All bets are off”.
Now Mister Macy and Mister Trump, I will not print a large 'W' word
just to frikkin entertain your warped sick minds. Wait a second
folks, I just returned from a hyperspace experience, and am mixing up
a beautiful flower and a name almost like my youngest daughter's
insisted upon nickname of her, with this other dude. STM is a very
powerful thing, still, at least you are not the one in the shit can,
Tuggy. Well, if the relief pitcher of those times, or a few years
ahead, was good enough for the great awesome Motown Queen herself,
Diana Ross, I guess they are good enough for all big blonds, and
other big blonds, copyrighted music, motor cycle chains, and all
potential reactions and or near infringements, but hay; I'm a
forgiving person. Who gives a hoot-pollute about music anyway? I know
I don't, walls or no walls.
END
TRANSMISSION.
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