WELCOME
TO THE GREAT AND POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY! ONLY
ADVANCED DREAM TRAVELERS ARE INVITED INTO THIS EXTREMELY SECRET
ORGANIZATION. JOINING WILL ALTER YOUR ENTIRE LIFE WHOEVER YOU ARE,
AND WHATEVER WORLD YOU MAY COME FROM. YOU MAY DECLINE, OR TO BE
ACCEPTED, GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW, AND AS YOU FALL ASLEEP, REPEAT THESE
WORDS, “I ACCEPT THE INITATION TO JOIN THE ESS”, UNTIL YOU BECOME
TOTALLY UNCONSCIOUS TO YOUR WAKING SURROUNDINGS. YOU WILL NOT EVER
RECEIVE ANOTHER OFFER.
THIS
IS WHAT A PERSON RECENTLY TOLD ME, HAPPENED TO ME ON THE NIGHT OF
AUGUST 15, 1986.
FORGET
ABOUT THE MOONS OF MAGIC SCHOOL TBI-1.
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Sometimes
a school is reality inside of the MAYA of the waking world
hyperspace. By the dark cover of night time however, things are
always drastically different. There is an entire world that
materializes here. Sometimes one moon is up in the skies over this
world, and sometimes there are two moons. THEY NEVER ARE SUPER
MOONS, and also, they never appear to orbit. Mortal logic says
this is not so. In fact, the simple reality is that some kind of
light system goes on at night. But why only one or two strange
circular lights up high, and never ever, do any lights come on at
the place where they should, at the level of the ground. By day,
the scene alters, with help from the electronic elf's and
leprechaun's, but again, this is the mortal world explanation.
Moving this one step further towards finality of my point right
now; look at it this way if you will, kind people. You know what
should be, and you know what appears to be, in many of life's
situations. You may even know what definitely should not be. But,
and I mean BIG-ASS-BUTT but; that does not always produce a great
personal area where we can all agree to come to terms with the
unknown. This is what fascinated Steve, Shirley, Patty, Stephanie,
Ziggy, Russ, and of course, myself; all the way back as far as the
nineteen-sixties.
LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE NOW READING
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
ESS
IN THE SECOND DECADE BLOG
CHAPTER
014
Now
I will not tell who it was who put me into a mild trance, against
perhaps my better judgment, and made me remember that wild night a
little bit clearer, the night that altered my history, FOREVER.
Still, as Gene Blucran Rotten-Berry and his pals all knew quite
well, my non-probe induced trip that lasted 153 days and not to
the Russican Planet, was one thing, merely adding the letter-C to
the country known as Russia in the non fiction world; and it was
an entirely different thing how my 1980 traveler song that was my
best recollection when the event was brand new to me, of a much
more gargantuan truth, the song sung to me by the GREAT SCYLLA
GODDESS JEHOVAH, owner of the multiverse; called what else other
than, “Love Is
For Carpenters”,
and sometimes shortened by me this author, to LOIS FOCA. The
illustration sentence above makes an obvious colclusive reason for
my doing this, no rocket science involved at least not that I was
yet to be consciously aware of. Still, Gene Roddenberry sir, I was
also the New Jersey inventor from World
Laboratories, with my KEYBOARDS FROM
PETAHELL invention. The odds of all of this coincidental
activity would be perdy dern close to a
million to one against being just that, and not a
connection directly to my life, in the 'non-fictional' world, and
what a laugh many think those words to be, only I am not laughing,
lads and lassies, not even in a whisper tone.
Now
the real problem in analyzing my entire ligfe that eventually
created all by itself, a religion for this third AD millennium, is
that it is complex, and also by the minds and attitudes of the
masses who let the media asshole world owners control their every
thoughts and actions at least 95-99 percent of the time; all of it
is totally crazy and nuts and not worth wasting five seconds even
learning about any of it. Well I assure you, this is not the
attitude of the WORLD OWNERS who make these masses think and
believe this about me. They know it is all 100% for real, and then
they act like an old foe of Almighty Jehovah, ''SATAN'' as church
and religious folks call this entity; go onto deceive and lie
about what they already know to be true. This SATAN bastard, knows
that we all are totally eternal, and that there is a Sahasra Dal
Kanwal, a great almighty Goddess who he has managed to cleverly
currently get very close to, and she allows this; but then he lies
to the rest of humanity and makes us all believe after life there
is basically nothing ever again and get it while the
'gettin's-good' as they say; as after you die, bye-bye, it's all
over forever. He knows this is nonsense, and yet tells the world
continuously, a direct bold face lie of the complete opposite.
This is how this agent of evil and hell works his magic to steal
all the light out and away from our world, slowly but surely, it
is more and more rotten and miserable, no matter how great and
wonderful any thing at all, begins as. Now I am not going to go
into a ninety thousand word diatribe here on this blog about the
details that concern all this, as it is not important right now.
But I have literally a four digit collection of facts that are far
different than those known about by any scientific community,
religious community, or even, occult and paranormal community.
This places MORIANITY into a zone all of its own, and just because
it stands quietly alone for right now, other than for 60,100 page
views by maybe 15-50 steady readers and a few stragglers and
curiosity seekers, of whom the gods only know the percentage of
non-agents; still, maybe it is my job to show AGENTS how real this
all is, as after-all, it is they who literally contain the power
to make huge changes around all of us little powerless folks that
definitely effect all of our lives at multiple countless levels,
continually.
Now,
if what happened to me in august of 1986, is ever to be fully
grasped by any of you, let alone by me; an entire group of events,
to quote the great Terry from Egg Harbor, New Jersey, not the
detention center or the island high school, there Microsoft, but
thanks for the memories; all needs to be properly categorized, if
not in a perfectly organized time order to get Terry salivating,
so much as, a complete order or a list of the ''everything
involved'' in the August 1986 life altering experience. It
involves using Magnesonic and the crush-destruct punishment
sequencing programming of another NEW JERSEY INVENTION, only it
ended up becoming one single invention, and never was housed in
one single unit or machine, remaining to this day, a collection of
technologies never encased into one fixed and grabbable brief case
or even large electronic box. The only word that fits what I need
to say is GRABBABLE, so screw it if I need to make up this new
word and use it. I need to tell what I need to tell, case closed,
Archibald queens Bunker! That too could be thought of I suppose,
as ''ALL IN THAT FAMILY'', if I am allowed a small bit of humor
here, folks.
You
missed me Jane Sleazeweedsdisease Waterwitchbitch! Close, but
still, ha ha, no dam cigar. The things that were all going on at
the time of this life altering deal, was crushing the great Sarah
Krassle on Magnesonic and then taking the broken image-object or
(IO) for a short abbreviation; to the dark shores of Long Beach
Island in New Jersey, and digging a whole an d burying this
likeness of her into the sand near the breakwater. The entire
weather altered within seconds after doing this, and stars winked
out and clouds rolled in, and a chilly almost winter wind came
zipping along that night in late July of 1986 somewhere, if my
memories are at all accurate, it had tobe within the three
official months of summer time, that much I remember clearly.
Memories only fuzz out when this great TAWF family is involved in
things, one way or the other. The only time my memories have
appeared to be MESSED-WITH, or whatever; is when THEY ARE INVOLVED
IN SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE, and never at any other time. The trip
to see the group called, NEW SHOES, in NYC, USA, friends of my pal
Dave; was also made on Saturday evening, the second of August, 13
days before I had sent the song I came to write the following
week, about my experience while Dave was in the night club and I
had chosen to remain in the vehicle, for copyright, called, “Real
Good Girl”, and then the wild experience with the major earache
that hurt as bad as a mastoid infection or whatever they used to
call extreme infections in ears. Why this happened is unknown, and
is all around the very same time that my musical arranger, Mister
Tom Glenn almost burned to death in a fire. He had just been
operated on in a nearby local hospital, and was recuperating when
a major hospital fire started, always always, FIRES, as I said
many times, the recording studio fire next door at th etoy
factory, right Emmit Smokes? The apartment fire just down from my
apartment in 1984, while I was at my second of three total stays
at the Robin hill Apartments, photos have been previously posted
and doing it every time I reference it is kind of blogger-babyish,
at least to me. This is all way too serious to play, “Wow look
at a fancy blog”. Urgent important stuff needs to be spoken of
here folks, no time right now exists for childish games.
Now
the same wild forces that were all starting to interact on me so
incredibly negatively in August of 1986, were th every same ones
that were there a decade later when I suddenly was struck like a
magician's spell aimed my way, to locate the mystery-girl of my
past, Sarah Nurockey, if this is her name and proper spelling, as
I cannot ever be humanly sure. I only know that on the Astral
Plane, the land of the dead, her name is Sarah Krassle, and is
indeed spelled exactly like this, not the way Razzy McThaxton
spelled it on his nice comment on that now closed off chat page on
me, from the WFMU radio station, I do not know if it is an
internet-only station, nor could I care in the least little bit.
So
without even beginning to touch the fifteenth day in that 1986
August, kind folks, you can see that already, many things were all
going down all around me and my circle of associates, from friends
such as Dave , to musical arrangers I had do some work for me six
years earlier, and so on and so forth. Still and all, along came
the night that I fell into my bed and asleep, in Cherry Hill, New
Jersey, on Route 70 or the Marlton Pike, same thing; in New
Jersey, and things altered forever for me right then and there.
Interesting, you know, those first three letters in the name of
the highway that is also numbered another wild coincidental
numeration, MC was born in 1970 of course, and this is, you must
realize, another high odds coincidence here, (MARlton Pike).
Still, it goes deeper. Despite being in extreme agony, I chose to
use my I-CHING-WANDS to travel to no specific place, I believe my
mind set was along the lines of, let the spirit guide me,
literally. I do not remember the hexagram that I had thrown,
unlike that time nearly a decade later around shortly past
midnight early into the morning of 1996's Pearl Harbor Day,
December the seventh. The ear infection was no where near as bad
when I went to sleep on the night as it was on the morning of my
next day awakening. Before doing anything I went to the then
called, Garden State Hospital to get antibiotics and ear drops,
and have it looked at. I came home, and within an hour, I had
scalded myself with some super hot tea that I had spilled onto
myself, and even had a few second degree burns as a result. Twice
in one day, I was at the same hospital, for two separate
incidents. This is usually not even experienced by spousal abuse
victims, and is practically an unheard of record breaking event
for Guinness himself.
Now,
let us say that a lot of things all fused together in ways that by
some wild crazy chance, just happened to be that one chance in a
trillion or so to happen, and I drew the shittiest straw in the
history of the cosmos. Fine, I can live with that, or can I,but my
pernt, sir Archie Bunker is as follows, sir: Some huge
collection of total ''weirdness'' struck me at this one exact
point in time, senator Watergate, and without any connections to
the great Washington building Break-in, by Mister Nixon's men on
17 June of 1972, mister Jockamini, or however that Haddon Township
high School guidance Counselor speeled his dam name back in 1967
and 1968. I had told him all about this date, and even how in a
symbolic way, something would be involved in holding back some
great flood waters. Well, I do not know a better Webster
definition for a WATER-GATE. But in any event, all of these
things, led me to a wild powerful reality where it was now middle
August, and I had been keeping a sort of chart-diary, where my
life was measured mathematically day by day in numbers ranging
from 1-5, and is where I today get my 55555555 compensations for
Jane Fonda and her evil ones attack, as rating anything a one,
normally was very bad, and all ones, was the number version for
the word to be soon invented and used a lot by my pal Dave and
myself, and you hear decades later repeated on these blogs,
“BOTBAR”!
All
throughout the rest of 1986, I made nothing of what happened on
the second, thirteen nights ago, on Dave and my excursion into
Manhattan. This is because of one powerful reason. Another MEMORY
HACK OUT. I am sure that my daughter has had the very same McGuire
experience, as he has persecuted her branch of the family right
along with me, ever since the sixties and seventies. It took unti
2008 to even start putting so very much together. Then when I
attempted to do the unthinkable, and blog the details of all of
the connecting dots, my life was nearly snuffed out by another
branch of these washcloth cutter-outers, and this nearly cost me
my life by way of being brutally and horrendous murdered. Dawn
would have buried me in the berry fields of Hammonton out beyond
the FBI guy's house, and to this day, Mark Wayne Mohr would be on
missing milk bottles and weekly grocery store missing news ad
circulars. I PROMISE YOU ALL THIS, kind peeps.
Well
my Morians, Lessians, and Inbetweenians; lwet me please take this
opportunity for thanking you for at least pulling me past 60,000
PV. This may not go anywhere in my life time, but if it is the
truth as I know it is, it will not vanish or die or be destroyed,
not by all the MILITUFORCES of the entire world. And what if this
person is correct, and I was invited into the ESS on that night,
and something happened, and all of the other stuff is merely some
kind of a cosmic window dressing? Well, this needs a lot of
further explanations. I tried showing you all how I gave it one
last ditch effort to be a hobbyist music creator, as I loved doing
since the age of four. Every time I am stopped. I had wild
''dreams'' of it all happening before it even did. And again, it
was all around the Christmas-Holiday
season, back in late 2012 when it all went south
for me at the Avalon Recording Studio. I pasted in their page. I
have no intention of ever having any more to do with people who
know my sad life affairs, and then go onto mercilessly trreat me
like I'm a piece of dirty stinky dog shit. This is what they did.
Anyone who wants to ever have anything to do with these creeps,
can do it at their own risk, and I have not one good thing to say
about them. I asked them to give me live sound, and they could
have, and tricked me over and over, and made my junk come out all
shitty and closed in. None of my songs ever get done right and
done the way others who pay the same or less money, end up with
their final product. I know it, and who these fucking jerk offs
all my life think they're fooling, is anybody's guess, certainly
it's not mother fuckiGN ass me, I promise.
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Any
real world I used to live in, I died fuckiGN cunt out of a very very
fucking cunt long time ago, Mizz Attorney General of Florida, MA'AM!
-
Pam Bondi, Attorney General of Florida
>>>>>>>>>>
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Again
Mashell Daniels, I am entitled to it, but all of this and multiplied
by twenty nine octillion, is still just MY PERSONAL OPINION. What is
not, is my actual experiences with this ''GROUP'' that all began at
the home on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, in the final
days of June and into the first third of July, back in 1970.
Hello,
alive and dreaming here, I am Mark Wayne Mohr. But I truly am
ZERANNISS ARTHUR YANCY JONES, from Dogtown, and then Sahasra Dal
Kanwal; thanks to my awesome great teen-queen, SSJK.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Folks,
I hope that you all have one hell of a great and wonderful day.
MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2014.
Hope
burns eternal, right lovely luscious Twinbay from Jersey???? I'll
Bet you never thought you'd hear that coming from asshole little me!
GODDESS
DIANA, MY LOVELY LIGHTNING.
DIANA,
THANK YOU FOR BEING ALL AROUND ME ALL THROUGH SATURDAY, YESTERDAY,
MY TEEN QUEEN BABY BLOND LOVE. YOU RESET MY HEART AGAIN WITH THOSE
NUMEROUS RIGHT OUT THE WINDOW TWIN-BOLTS. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I CAN
EVER DO TO MAKE ALL OF THIS UP TO YOU. I WILL MAKE ENDLESS
PASSIONATE LOVE TO YOU AS SOON AS I LEAVE THIS WORLD FOREVER BEHIND
AND THAT IS A PROMISE, MY ELECTRON! YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
TIMES A VIGINTILLION TO THE POWER OF INFINITY!!!!!!!! BOB MC DOWELL,
FCC, THEY JUST HACKED WITH WITH A (`~HACK), OLD 1972 PAL AND SIR,
BRO!
I
WILL GO ON TAKING BIGGER BITES OUT OF ALL OF THIS. SHARKEY SAYS,
MORIANITY MUST GO ON. SCREW ALL OF THE OTHER FRIKKIN' SHOWS.
CHOMP-CHOMP-CHOMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YUMMY.
BLOGGER
SAYS TO BLOGGER MOUNTAINPEN:
You're
always in control of who sees what - you can turn it off or remove
posts at any time.
MARK
WAYNE MOHR SAYS,
THANK
YOU BLOGGER.
5555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12
local South Florida TV.
Note:
The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your
county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the
alert and the map processing.
|
Advisory
Colors Key
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Winter
Storm Watch
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Flood
Warning
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Non-Precipitation
Advisory
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|
Flood
Statement
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Well
it is time to sign off for the evening. It will be getting light
soon, and Roseann Delaney will need to find her secret hiding place
up in Westmont, New jersey. Yeah, it's the biting, gorgeous as you
are, 'girl'. WOW!
There
are some things that need to be said. If things were different, it
all would just be said at once, all the really important things. But
I learned long ago, doing this is more dangerous to the health and
well being, at least for me, than smoking, texting and driving, and
cheating on my taxes and bragging about it on Facebook, all put
together! To quote the great Billy Harner from New Jersey, timing is
everything!!!!!!!!!!! I still am glad to be out of fucking American
Honda, on Gaither Road, in Mount Laurel, NJUSAESMWG!!!!
THE
WEATHER BUG,
In
Partnership With
and
shared by this blogger, who may be contacted through:
Local Weather Cameras
Fort Pierce, FL 34950
KABOOM,
Mister Clancy!!!!!!!!!!!
Mister
David
Leigh Smith, back
in the autumn of 1970,
at Haddonfield,
New Jersey,
in
the Cooley Hall;
Sir
ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH,
PROGRAMMING OVERRIDER, SIR;
Feel
free to skip over the familiar texts, good peeps. 'BUT',
whatever you do, SARAH
KRASSLE
knows
every single thing, atom by atom, in all five
dimensions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is no escaping her, not now, not
in 1997, not ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AUGUST
10, 2014,
SUNDAY
MORNING AT 6:42,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 75 DEGREES FNHT.
I
FUCKED UP WITH THAT NICE 66 DEGREE SHIT BACK ON MY PRIOR BLOG, IT WAS
77, AND I FORGOT TO ALTER THE PRINTING ON THE STANDARD-LINE. I WON'T
FUCKING SEE 66 FOR MIONTHS AND MONTHS, YO GREAT FOLKS,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
HUMIDITY
IS 100%, IT FEELS 80 DEGREES ON SKIN.
WO-WO-WO-WO
BILLY YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
KEEPING
'MY BIG ASS STUPID MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH SHUT',
is some part of this, and I know that much; but even if I say
nothing, do nothing, etcetera; when these fucking cunt lapping
WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
ENEMIES
WANT TO ATTACK ME, THEY DO!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
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