©
BOM, BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2014
theansweristheqyuestion
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January 2006
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Not boring,
without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say
with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived
here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with
awareness. Fun is replaced with 'intense'.
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You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super
glue and olive pits?
at the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly
sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything. Sorry
for my rotten bad attitude, gorgeous Twinbay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mark Wayne Mohr
Contact me
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being one of
perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going back
far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal
with an extremely unpleasant situation.
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When you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll
drown?
Well, I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am
the one in 1984 from Highland Avenue.
DECEMBER
25, 2014,
THURSDAY
AFTERNOON AT 1:32,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 69 DEGREES FNHT.
Humidity
is 51%, feeling 69.
TODAY'S
TEMPERATURE RANGE: (H-76/L-52)
WIND
IS WSW AT 6, WITH GUSTS AT 27.
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Audience |
She
told me she is always watching me and never told me she was the
goddess of Lightning. We are leaving this right here for right now,
lovely LOO-HEARTS, you go girl, and hey Letty-girl, choo up to YO???
Who she, you ask, well, lovely Diana Arteemis, the goddess of
lightning. In a higher reality and truth, she is giant coil of
unbelievable pure colorful energy. I love her so much, I die inside
every single day that I must live in a physical body away from the
love of my eternal rotten lousy
life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The first time she
allowed me to remember her as this awesome coil, was late spring or
early summer time in 1984, while residing at 506 Robin Hill
Apartments, in Voorhees township, New Jersey. The smallest pin prick
on the world map above would be larger than Voorhees, most likely,
WOW, and WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
This
may sound shocking, but I would not trade places with anyone of you
who don't have my problems and hell, not a one, not for a dam minute,
and here's why. I couldn't live for an entire minute, all dumbed down
and blind to shit all around me. I would actually rather be suffering
in my eternal fucking hell!!!!!!!!!! Also, and in reiteration; THERE
IS NO WAY TOM REALE IN JULY OF 1970 WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT UPSET THAT
NIGHT OF THE FIREWORKS, IF HE WAS NOT ALL PART OF WHAT HAPPENED THE
YEAR BEFORE THAT, AND WAS NOT ALSO A MEMBER OF THE (GAP-ESS) OR THE
'GREAT AND POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY'!!!!!!!!!!!
AFTER
MORIANITY PROJECT SAFE JOURNAL
CHAPTER
NAME----
'I
MUST BE THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON ALIVE'
H-A-Y-----------------------------------------F-O-L-K-S,
WOULD
YOU BELIEVE THAT ON CHRISTMAS MOTHER FUCKING MORNING, MY MILITUFORCE
ENEMIES STRUCK ME AT AROUND HALF PAST SEVEN SO WITH ANOTHER TELEPHONE
ILLEGAL LOUD SQUAL, IN TOTAL BLATANT VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL LIBERTIES
AND RIGHTS AS A LEGAL UNITED STATES FEREE CITIZEN, LAUGH LAUGH LAUGH
LAUGH???????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT SEEMS TO BE EVERY
DAY NOW, ALONG WITH THREE FIRE ALARMS PER DAY OUT OF NOWHERE,
BEGINNING A FEW DAYS BACK OUT OF THE BLUE AFTER A NICE WEEK OR MORE
WITHOUT THAT SHIT. Now I know my lovely wonderful Attorney General
doesn't care, or else has no power to stop me from having my rights
violated, it can only be, to quote the great mighty JUDGE JUDY,
''door-A or door-B''.
As
for why this endless death persecution siege is upon me since early
into adulthood, a child who watches the educational television
channels, and knows a little bit about my life back in th eday, can
figure it out without getting all weird and super complicated with
such things as the ESS and parallel event and roulette and on and on.
These MIBS go around threatening people who won't shut fucking up
about their UFO sightings, and here I am in direct contact, according
to the ANCIENT ASTRONAUT THEORISTS, with these gods all this time,
and when it began, so did the persecution, or just a tad bit
later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a rotten fucking world and country.
Instead of taking pity on me, as if I started all of this fucking
shit, no, they come against me and worsen an already bad fucking
hellish life, or better said, THEY TOTALLY FUCKING DESTROYED
IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No shame, no conscience, no nothing, if I
can make the great quotation from my 1983 copyrighted project. Yes I
was scared that day in May, while her favorite game she's play. But
did anyone give a fuck or help me? No, they wiped me fucking out and
destroyed me. So if something ever happens to any one of you out
fuckiGN here, similar in any way, remote as you think the chances may
be of this, or to a loved one of yours; then the gods take mother
fuckiGN pity on you, as my life stands if nothing else, as a
reflection to show all and anyone of you, just what will happen to
you and or that loved one, and you will be absolutely totally fucking
powerless to stop it, and yes, IPYT, BIG TIME!
OBVIOUSLY,
THEIR EVIL STOCK FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MARKET IS MAKING ALL TIME
RECORD HIGHS OVER 18,000, AS THE LOUD PLANES AND SUPER CHEMTRAIL
ASSAULT OVER THE SKIES OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, ARE VERY MAJOR. THIS
IS A DOOZIE FUCKING WHOPPER ATTACK, BIG MACK PEPPERWINKLE
BEARHUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not obviously, definitely, positively,
absolutely, etcetera, etcetera!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THANKS
A LOT, WONDERFUL FLORIDA AG!
AS
CUZZ TRUMP WOULD SAY, “LIKE I GIVE A SHIT”. Yes ma;am, I hear
you, Mizz Bondi!!!!!!!!!!!! And Merry Hollister Burrsecrets Christmas
to you too, in or out of all Jay-Lo diners and others down the road
to the west!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why won't you ever
fucking contact me, Prosecutor Wirtz????????????????? What pigs you
all are. And people DARE
to fucking ask me, “Mark, why don't you ever fucking vote”? I
think an appropriate response would be,
“Read
my friggin' ass blogs,
YO
YO YO Sarah Santa Callio Clause!
Luckily
for freaking me, things are not a lot worse because finding out this
incredible shit over the past ten days and slowly piecing it all
together would normally cause me a lot more than nightmares of owing
42 grand and store employees crashing into and wrecking my vehicle,
and shit here at home with noisy nabes. I actually have got off
lucky, as this has placed me light frikkin' years ahead in my
struggles to deal with TAWF-MILI-2-FORCE or also known as, HALLS
INTERGALACTIC GARY-FAWCES,
''whatever'', Congressman, before you were the Congressman, back in
my kick-ass year of 1975; in where else but the great beaches of what
is now HILTON BEACH OF ATLANTIC CITY, NEW
JERSEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2014
Happy blogging!
Posted by Cal
Smith and Katrina
Le
Thank you, Cal Smith and Katrina
Le, but I have a small whittle question 4U dudes and duddesses.
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA
MICHAEL 1971 MCNULTY, YO!
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UH-OH,
looks like my viewers are going back pedal on me again a bit
recently. I doubt it is because I pissed off PPPPPPPPPPPPPPP, as I
don't think he has that much control over my global audience, sparse
and tether light as it might be, and don't think I ain't grateful for
what I do have, as I am not a greedy man, but my mama didn't raise a
dam fool, either. If it does not grow, and pick up in the fifteen
year, I am all done, and this leads to me' ol' question for Cal
Smith and Katrina
Le.
Shortly, I plan
to have the new employee of the local STAPLES
STORE over here, so the Crime Watching Spies down in my lobby
reading this, on their fucking cell phone computers and tabs, can
know this in advance; as they will learn of it when it happens,
aniwho. I am planning on telling my new guru
that I need help in networking and getting a major story out to this
world. My already nearly seventy thousand views at least puts
a real and plausible blog in front of them, not a little four year
old's toy. Still, nothing like what I want or need to have happen,
and this is what I am asking you two about, although I doubt you will
have time to read my words here, and then e-mail me back, but I can
hope, and then if you don't, then it is off to plan B and going over
to Staples in November. I WILL DO WHAT I NEED TO DO, ONE WAY OR THE
OTHER, WITH OR WITHOUT ANY ASSISTANCE FROM ANY
SWIFFER MOPS OR ANY RIAA SONGS
FROM THE EIGHTIES!!!!
There
are a large group of folks who don't have a clue that my blogs
(Morianity and Mountainpen) so much as exist. I am like a star in a
galaxy. I may shine bright and be potentially extremely powerful, but
I am still one star in a galaxy. Only those who have become
knowledgeable on how to successfully network themselves online in
this new age ridiculous world, ever get a real following, no matter
how great or lousy their material may be, be it literary, musical, or
whatever. If you are not known about, a count such as mine, is quite
miraculous and nothing to sneeze over. Still, when we break down the
specifics of it all, it is 50 or less people around this globe, most
I either know, or are part of this wild family of 1970, but this
leaves at best 5-10 unknown REAL READERS from the public forum, and
this is wasting my time. The reason I persevere onward, is the hope
for growth, and I have come to face the fact, that unless I can
properly do what the internet word called NETWORKING THE SOCIAL
MEDIA, despite having many powerful enemies, there are ways for folks
to at least know I am here and then they can decide for themselves if
Morianity is worth anything to the general population or not, and the
buzz can then either spread to kill me completely, or spread to send
me into, perhaps not stardom, but a count with one or two more zeros
after the far right digit. Again, I am very appreciative for my count
and fore those who go up and view this blog, this sometimes quite
angry, mean, name calling, unpleasant blog, but you know what folks.
It is a blog where a very hurt and persecuted old man, tells the
story straight from the shoulder, and straight from my heart to your
hearts. Those who don't like my truths, like PPPPPPPPPPPP, call me
and threaten to kick my ass, or ignore me, but the fact remains, I DO
NOT LIE, nor am I deluded, as this story from my childhood to this
present second, is all totally real and true, and I have no reason to
sit here faking, hoaxing, making up a bunch of stupid crap, and
involving many many powerful INNOCENT other people. The truth simply
is, they are involved with my life or were, and they are far from
innocent, on many many many many many freaking thinks, people!!!!
I
WORKED IN THE ENTERTAINMENT BUSINESS,
as a tape duplicator from 1979-1981 in Camden, New Jersey; and
you cannot be in a place like RPL Sound Studio for nearly two years,
without meeting people, and picking up a lot of powerful knowledge
about the industry. It simply is impossible; especially for someone
who by nature, is a very strong seeker, and is never tuned out; not
while in bed, or out of bed, or anywhere. I see, I know, I hear, I
look, I listen, I feel; and I keep right on going every time the
world tries to knock me on my pitiful little ass for doing just this,
as many powerful Scott Ransom people get quite irate and up set and
as he put it in 1988 in my car one day, ''disgruntled'' with
nobody-types like me, learning too many secrets, to wit I reply to
them right now, “TOUGH FUCKING ASS NAVY BEANS, YO”!!!!!!!!!!!
So here is the
story, and this is all true. As many of you know, I go into trances,
and use my airship to do what I call bombing missions. I don't want
to be more specific other than I have been doing these since the
middle late nineteen-nineties. One time so far, a real jackpot was
hit. I am not an enemy of this nation, this nation seems to hate me
for some reason, and I told Jim Burr in 1983, as you know from recent
blog information, that SATAN in my opinion, figured out a mastermind
brain storm way of getting the world against me, so that he then,
could go off and finish carrying out bigger global agendas and not
worry about persecuting the chosen Huntington or me, day and night.
This would free him up so to speak, to go on with other bigger fried
fish, leaving me still in a terrible circumstance, and in fact, worse
than the fuckiGN stew pot that I was cooking in up to that time in
May or so, in 1983, before my sudden mystery-illness struck me down,
like a pathetic fuckiGN dog in the god dam street!!!!
So
moving this along people; I was in a deep trance, and had just
engaged our fleet of ships, owned and controlled by Sir Duma Argon,
my eternal friend in the Purgatory, which is basically, the entire
Astral Plane, except for two areas that are not the Purgatory, one
being DOGTOWN, or what you would call as mortals, HELL, and the other
being SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, or what you would call as mortals, HEAVEN!
DDDDON'T
B SHY; WEED ON, PEEPS!!!!
So
making a long story as short as humanly possible, Diana and I were on
my airship, called, the RICKTOWN-1, a part of the DUMA ARGON FLEET
PATROL, a privately run operation that basically is against and at
eternal odds, with the powerful one third of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL,
an ASTRAL PLANE FORCE quite formidable to say the dam least, lads and
lassies. I had just bombed out the entire BRIGGBASE and thought I had
targeted a huge group of enemy bogey airships of theirs, only,
somehow they engineered a real wow-plan against me, and I physically
died back here in body. I awoke to a severe heart attack at around
5:15 this morning, and a fire alarm sounding. When Engine 15 got
here, they went to the apartment next to James across from my unit
and down one to the very end unit of the west wind on this floor
number six. They told me that smoke was all in there, and they did
not know why or how or anything. Then I realized I was in Astral
Body, asking them this, as when I shut my door and walked back to my
bed, there was my physical body laying there dead from a massive
heart attack. Then a lovely bluish white circle appeared at my window
and I walked out beyond my window and saw the firetruck below me
about 70 feet or so, saying “ENGINE 15” on top of it. I was in
Sahasra Dal Kanwal in a couple of seconds after this, where Almighty
Sarah Krassle told me she loves me so much, and is tired of seeing my
blogs filled with stuff like IWALU, and not obeying her, this is
between us, and nobody else, so the details will be omitted to what
she and I were talking about. The next thing I knew I remember saying
I will obey and can I come to your sweet 16 party, and as some know,
no boy can ever go to this special ALL-GIRLS-PARTY. She laughed and
reminded me of this, and said I have to go home now, and gave a shove
while giggling at me. Then I awoke and all of my chest pains were as
though I never had them at all. I could hear yelling and pounding out
in the hall, and it was Engine 15 guys trying to get into that
apartment next door to James' place. When they finally left the
apartment after opening the door themselves, as the police and fire
have a master key to all public housing anywhere, not just here, it
is the law I believe, don't quote me. Still, I have a lot of
information because I know a hell of a lot of powerful people,
whether or not they will publicly ever admit shit to any of you or
not, truth is truth! I opened my door a second time by my reference
frame, but really it was the only time, physically; and asked the
firemen what was what, and they said we don't know where the smoke
came from, it was just all in that unit all of a sudden and set off
the alarm. Later on before all was said and done, I was back in a
lighter trance with Diana, and I asked her what happened, as I
thought for a second, I had been bombing and then fell out of trance
and into a dead sleep. She told me I was in a dead sleep, without the
sleep. That I had died, and that I better be careful of these
Lambriggers that I am fighting with my pal Duma Argon. The
Philadelphia local news broadcasters know all about this, for anyone
out there who is real interested. They got tongue tied after reading
a blog back in the first couple of years of these blogs, and said
Duma Argon, instead of Dukra Agron, during the event where the
military base was attacked by some local nutcase, near Lakewood
Lightning bus towns. Only David Roth and I appreciate that little
pun, and he is not here any more, right John E. Davis and Lou Sauce,
and all you Philly music industry crumbs, Lenny, Sigma garbage, and
those twoo butt-wipes who think they're god almighty. Give me a dam
break, Mizz Leo, in or out of 1985, YO YO YO YO!!!! Now ever since
this was all going down live in my fucking life, as this is merely a
Billy Mummy Hershey Bar PIP or (paste-in-page); but yes, ever since
this all was in real time as mortals see shit; THINGS HAVE BECOME WAY
WAY MOTHER FUCKING WORSE FOR ME AND AROUND ME. THIS IS ALSO WHY THE
PHONE SQUEAL PERSECUTION IS DONE TO ME, MIZZ FREAKING LOVELY BONDI! I
JUST THOUGHT MAYBE YOU WERE INTERESTED INKNOWING THIS SIMPLE FACT,
MA'AM. BUT I TOLD THE GREAT TEEN OF MY ETERNAL LIFE, IN MORTAL WORLD
TIME OF OCTOBER 1994, ''HANIL'' OR SPELLED OUT, I TOLD HER TO, ''HAVE
A NICE LIFE''. She always does, all throughout all of eternity, while
she watches me endlessly suffer, right Paula Uwich and Braxton slobs?
Wow how do you mother fuckers sleep at night after all of this? I
would not be able to sleep an hour a day if I had done a tenth of
this monstrous fucking shit to a fellow human being. You all make
Mister fucking Hitler look like a fucking Biblical Saint in Vatican
fucking city, Italy, Marie Callio!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
out WOW me on all of this, if you can, MISTER FUCKING MACY!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
Poor ENGINE-15 of Fort Pierce,
Florida, the great Public Housing Authority is keeping you quite busy
and on your toes. They are here now shutting off another fire alarm,
they were here shortly after I posted my last blog around five or a
little past this dark morning, and I cannot remember if they were
here in-between. When I need to sleep, I sleep with professional ear
plugs, and even though I may awaken to this, I fall quickly back to
sleep with my head buried beneath pillows, and forget it completely.
Still, we are fined, the building is anyway; every time they have to
come out, unless a legitimate fire is accidentally started, following
any official arson report made and filed with the police. In my three
and a half years living here, only one fire happened, a small grease
fire right below me on the first floor, and they had the water hoses
going quite a while. My blogs make mention of this, and I was doing a
blog at the time this was going down live. No pop ups, no VH1 time
changes, no playing with hyper-dimensional realities, no nothing,
misses Ness-1-2-3! Ain't no stopping any of this baggage I would
suppose, huh Diana? Diva's, what I can say, we can't live with them
or without them, Jerry Springer and Mizz Zebriski! WO BILLY H!
Oh Goddess
Scylla, without turning over any more rocks or barking and begging so
you'll sing some of our special songs to me all eternity long; those
powerful awesome outlandish moons sure love to float about, up above
the night scys of where that charter school should be,
and appears to be there, by light of day, only don't tell Roseann
Delaney, we all know
she will never ever be able to attend or even see that magical
school. WOW, the cursed little bastard can laugh and find humor in
nightmarish family fights and stair horrors! Thank the Almighty that
I only had to suffer through this once, and did manage to GET OUT OF
THAT ONE, Marx Brothers!
JUST
AS I TOLD YOU LOVELY GINA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JUST
AS I TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!
HAY,
IF I AM LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE DYING, PLEASE JUST FUCKING LET ME DIE,
PRESIDENT OBAMA, PLEASE. I WILL GLADLY THROW IN A BIG BEAR HUG, SO
COME DOWN AGAIN TO FORT PIERCE IF YOU NEED ONE. T—A—N—K—S,
AND THANK YOU MICROSOFT CORPORATION FOR TELLING ME THAT MINUS SIGNS
HAVE BEEN REPLACED WITH YOUR LIGHTBULB PROMPT,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM WITH YOU, JUDGE JUDY,
THIS ENTIRE COMPUTER WORLD AND INTERNET AND PHONES THAT DO
EVERYTHING, IT IS REDICULOUS, ABSURD, AND TOTALLY FUCKIGN STUPID; and
I have no intention of riding the great MILE HIGH Wildwood, New
Jersey roller coaster, when it is finished in 2031, AHA MISTER
MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
you insist on knowing what happened to me, you can't let sleeping
fucking dogs just lie around huh; fine. I'll give it to you as
straight shot as the gun allows me to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IT
IS ALL ABOUT BAGGAGE; AND THESE ARE WHY WE ALL HAVE SO GOD
DAM FUCKING MUCH BAGGAGE; THESE AND ONLY THESE, AND NOTHING FUCKING
ELSE. I PROMISE YOU ALL!!!!
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Oh
Jesus fucking Christ Almighty Goddess, Y ME????????????????????
YYYYYYYYYYYY JIMMY YYYYYYY, YYYYYYYY did you tell me these
copyrighted 1984 things???????? You know way too much, like distant
CUZZ Trumpie off my Alice Gallagher family line, and peeps that know
too fucking much are sometimes removed from the fuckiGN ass equation,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Yes there really is a Sarah Callio, and there
really is a Leticia Tilley, and there really is a 401 Virginia
Avenue Krassle Waterworks, and there really is a home that I was raped and molested in as a child, that was later sold to that same fucking rotten crooked waterworks; the ACMUA of New Jersey and ATLANTIC CITY, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Only nobody cares one fuckiGN bit what has happened to me, it is all for the family, and my DNA, and screw me, and hip hip hurray for all of them. WOW, what a fuckiGN bum trip buzz kill this shit all fucking is, Mister Dick Wolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Avenue Krassle Waterworks, and there really is a home that I was raped and molested in as a child, that was later sold to that same fucking rotten crooked waterworks; the ACMUA of New Jersey and ATLANTIC CITY, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Only nobody cares one fuckiGN bit what has happened to me, it is all for the family, and my DNA, and screw me, and hip hip hurray for all of them. WOW, what a fuckiGN bum trip buzz kill this shit all fucking is, Mister Dick Wolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OH
LOUISE HENDERSHODT, WHERE ARE YOU? DO YOU REMEMBER 1967 AND 1968 WHEN
I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE MAGIC OF THE GREAT:
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Why
won't the god dam police help protect me, RON WIRTZ SENIOR, of
Pemberton, New Jersey or was that Tabernacle, New Jersey?
OH
THE GREAT AND POWERFUL RED (X), WOW, MISTER
FUCKING MACY,
AND
COUSINS!!!!!!!!!!!
This
entity who I now call Middie for MDE or MOTHER/DAUGHTER/ELECTRON,
has made me aware of so many things that no human alive could handle
what I have come to learn and know as a result. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
and W—O—W!!!!
There
are no ONE WAY STREETS;
merely streets where the law makes it legal to only drive in one
direction. Thinking long and hard about this, puts many things in
your own life, in an entirely new light; whether or not you are aware
of this great truth, folks.
///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
1980 KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2014
JUPITER, FLORIDA WELCOMES
MORIANITY BLOG READERS, VIA IMAGE FROM THE JUPITER-CAM, COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG IN PARTNERSHIP WITH CHANNEL 12, SOUTH FLORIDA
TELEVISION.
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Live Camera from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse, Jupiter, FL
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OH
LORDESS, DON'T EVER DO THAT, BDC.
You forgot
your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive
pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother. You
forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and
olive pits?
An
angry mother.
YOU
ARE READING BLOGS CALLED,
AFTER
MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3
I
was one month at 1802
Robin Hill,
and it was on the night of June 4, 1983. I'll bet Doogie Howser
remembers, even though his great show was yet to be falling into
humankind's consciousness illusion of SPACE-TIME-MIND,
in more ways than one, if a wee bit of NY ST humor is permitted me,
uncle Heinz Gozzwald of great mighty purple Babylon of great prophets
and visions, huh
traveler Saint John,
cut me a big ass brake, willya, Margie 1985 Leo, kammaan?????????
Papas Island 1923 years ago, gimme
a dam break there, mighty (GAP) EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND CHARIOT
RIDERS of the AAT CLUB,
like fucking WOW!!!!
FOR
LARGE FULL PAGE LIGHTNING CHART, GO TO: ONE OF MANY, IS ON: ESS IN
THE SECOND DECADE BLOG, CHAPTER 029.
EXPRESSIONS
AND SAYINGS; ALL MY ORIGINALS:
HOLY
HOT HURL HICCUPS, TIME TO SAY UNCLE-NUFF.
SUNRAM
AND DODGESLAM
SWEET
GIANT JACOBSON
SPEAK
OF THE LENNY-NICKVIL
HOT
SHINGLE SHIT
HOLY
MOTHER MARILOO BLUE
BLUCRANTRAN
MCCOO TECK, THE OTHER FOOD, BMT
CRISIS
LILA ISISCYLLA AND
PHONY
BOLOGNA BATONY MARONI
BUNT-TAPPING,
RUNT-SLAPPING, ROCK-CHUCKING,
FLOCK-DUCKING,
STOCK TRUCKING,
ESS
THE CESS-MESS
YES
THE FLAME OF THE PESTS
HOLY
SMOTHER, FEEL MY SNARE, MISTER PAVAROTTI.
BLOGS
OF MARK WAYNE MOHR, 2006-2014
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
~~~~~~~
My
life is total hell!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 2992
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2014
MY BLOGS:
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THE
WEATHER BUG,
IN PARTNERSHIP WITH CHANNEL 12 CBS TELEVISION,
IS REPRINTED AS A COURTESY, ON THE BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN.
ON DEMAND WITH A CAD-ORDER, THEY WILL BE REMOVED. THANK YOU,
HOPEFULLY, FOR PERMITTING ME TO SERVE YOU!
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.
Yes
it all began for me here, where Scylla sang our song for me, on June
4, 1980, and then 36 months later, boy did I wish I was never born,
and still, Copyright Office 1984 examiners, JUST WHAT'S WRONG, and
not with left or right stereo fuckiGN channels,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ladies
and gentlemen, I may not always be a real good boy, and I will never
be in this lifetime, a “REAL
GOOD GIRL”, but whether or not I choose or wish for anything in
particular, or not; a friend from 1999 let me know to my chagrin and
total surprise, that I have something that I up until our talk on
this one day in late summer or early autumn, and that something is
now called by modern new age society people in general, “BAGGAGE”,
with or without any TV shows from brain waster Jerry Springer. There
is a dude with a powerful set of think-plugs, who for reasons only he
fully understands and knows, maybe; decided to waste an entire
lifetime on total GARBAGE, and this man has a near Einsteinian
Intelligence Quotient, I have come to learn by sources absolutely
reliable. Her name was Helen, and when she told me this, I probably
was in utter shock, and it was not until days later that I thought it
through, and realized that this lady was no dummy either, although,
as with the case of Mister Springer, they live in garbage, and that
is just my entitled Mizz Daniels-1980 opinion, but it is my opinion.
What is this baggage, you ask me, maybe? Fine, I have no secrets from
this god dam fuckiGN world, folks. It is Sarah Krassle. SHE IS MY
BAGGAGE, and she is very very very non-Ingrid-1983 heavy, old
educator Richard Marcucci from
1969!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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