HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 17

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 17

I knew that the PHA maintenance crew was going to be around, from a notice at my door a few days back, so I never called them, and waited for them to come; and then showed the man my broken blind. He replaced it with one that was not meant to fit the area of that window and it is not the greatest deal, but I'll live with it. These days I consider myself to be quite fucking lucky if anything at all works out for me, in the very least little bit.

MARCH 25, 2015,

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON AT 11:30,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 72 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY------(H-72/L-60)

WIND IS N AT 6 WITH SMALL GUSTING TO 7.

HUMIDITY IS 87, FORECAST TODAY IS 85,

SKIES MIXED TO CLOUDY, EXPECTED TO PERSIST.

The fifth dimension has been here forever, in fact, ''forever'' simply fits neatly into the FIFTH DIMENSION, with or without topics, sports, women, or solid gold bars, lovely Miss Marilyn McCoo, YO!!!!

Speaking of both the fifth and sixth dimensions; just why was my dam DNA effected, forcing me to always be awakened with MONSTER SORE THROATS. I used to always be chewing on aspirin tablets, and sucking on throat lozenges, all day long, day after day after day; ever since the spring time in 1976, while working at MARS. Anyone with my DNA, after 1986; is being totally wiped out, as far as problems with throat irritation. Well if the Stein can learn when to shut the fuck up, I guess I can too; right my non-super-ex-friend, sir SB? Well, since those days, bad as shit was then, I have come to appreciate two powerful things. First, that I really am seeing bottom now, and second, I have a real respect for those 1997 Victoria Callio non-ooder DMV license plates all over New Enemies Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dave Roth and I began ovserving that a VC series of DMV license plates began popping up like Potter-Magic all over the place in Jersey, directly following early 1997 and my visit on 2-7 to McGuire's bar on Tennessee Avenue and my meeting with Frank Callio at his police station when he was the Sergeant there, and eventually one hot miserable summer day, while on a payphone in Atlantic City asking for him to come and meet me, and he never showed up, and then his Aunt Vicki said to me a week or so later one night from my also, and over the phone, “Talk to Frank” and slammed down the phone receiver on me. The owner of the automobile in 1989, or the registered owner in the Jersey records, of the plate back then, ITALY 7, was a very good friend of many nephews and nieces of other farther removed members of Vicki's parents. I never saw Vicki back in 1997, but twenty-seven years earlier, both Frank the ACBP dude was life-guarding on the Ventnor beaches near fagot Tom Reale's later sold to ACMUA Cornwall Avenue home. His girlfriend was Victoria Callio. She had a chair business on Saint James Place, putting beach chairs out near the Schiff Center Pier back in those days. She always used to say to me over and over, “Mark, you've got such gorgeous hair”. Many people insist my hair has not changed all that much since 1970.

What has fucking changed however, both in 27 years as well as 45 years, is the world. I don't change. I stay exactly the fucking same. Screw all of you Tim Barber. Screw all of you CALLIO'S and MCGUIRE'S. MOTHER FUCKING SCREW ALL-A-UU'S!!!!

But things do change, Vicki Slutbag Callio. Things like tape recorders, license plates, WOMO-M2F, and 'MSC' and 'ESS' revealed. This stands for, 1) (McGuire's Secrets Corporation) and 2), (Exploratronic Supermind Society).

Dave was murdered for two reasons. He was a marvelous natural detective-cop, even though he never did anything past armed security work. First he told me how he perceived a lot of things around me, in ways that went beyond just the old days junk with Jim Burr and ''a family spiritual problem'', to quote him from those early days. He began seeing how it was the EW who was behind more than just using a few ideas or rearranging a few musical notes. He saw them as an organized force with soime wild agenda, and it all made perfect sense to hear him very rationally explain it, step by step, in real time, to shit that was all going on in my life after we had met at the 113 Caldor Department Store in November of 1985. Within these 16 years give or take up until he was cleverly murdered in early 2002; in March when else; he had done more damage to the Oliver Stone JFK Power Structure, just by telling me so very much shit about my own problems, that they had to kill him, and they did, as I said; WATCH THE MOVIE, PEOPLE; as if you read these blogs, IPY; THIS 1992 FUCKING MOVIE, IS BEYOND A MUST-SEE!

Hay I can make a funny face and pretend this is all a lot of fucking horse shit. But lurking around all of the dam AHA-AHA-AHA's of McNulty, and the great Sharks of Gloucester and Patty Hollister, and the Fascitar, and electronic metaphysics, JAY on GW gave it a more accurate and professionally used name for that and not Jay 1964 Bland; and on an don we can go here, kind folks!!!! But all of the funny faces or pretending or daydreaming, is only a short term fix. Things tend to follow the rule of the Flatliners. I speak mostly of the crack head girl who yells at Sutherland about appliances, and then about how we all know what we've done!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.