HALLS
WALLS, CHAPTER 7
Good old maintenance peeps are in ex-nabe-Stan's
friggin' apartment again. It began around ten this morning. He must
have left that place in totally deplorable condition to warrant this
much repair and general maintenance. He was an extremely odd duck,
somewhat likable, but very hard to get a true real accurate read on,
in the nearly four years that I knew the man.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
MARCH
19, 2015,
THURSDAY
MORNING AT 10:45,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 76 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
ON THE DAY-----(H-76/L-61)
HUMIDITY
IS 82%, IT FEELS LIKE 80 DEGREES.
WIND
IS N AT A CALM 4, WITH NO GUSTS.
Some
wild hyperspace interactions to say the least, are really coming into
my conscious memories, (I'm really remembering some wild ass dreams)
these days. This has been through the majority of our now closing out
winter, as this is the final full day of it and spring will begin at
some time during the day cycle of tomorrow. I was in a very large
swimming pool, an Olympic sized pool most likely. People were
throwing cellphones at each other in very angry demeanor's, and then
one was not caught and sunk and was broken, and the person then
instantly flipped out on the dude that threw it after retrieving it
and re-surfacing and seeing that it indeed was totally broken. Then I
suddenly as the exploratron I was in this parallel reality; had
jumped into the thrower, and this nutcase was coming after me to
really fuck me up. I became aware of all of my Morianity and things
that I know over here in this reality, and instantly flashed out of
that body and into the body of the female lifeguard, a giant blond
amazon of at least six-six, and about 200 pounds of solid and
steroidal looking muscle, from neck to calves. Then I took over her,
and blew my whistle, and suddenly knew the name of this guy, who was
charging the other guy, and about to inflict some serious bodily
harm. As I approached, I could hear him screaming as well and saying
many different phone numbers that now were forever lost thanks to
that imbecile that he was chasing through the water. Then a loud
crash in the pool came from the ceiling and as I looked up, I came
out of the experience, and realized the reality sound transfer was
the maintenance crew fucking around again in Stan's vacant frikkin'
apartment.
Back
off me, you mother fucking mouse-jump-hacker scum sucking milf muff
diving filth bags!
''FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY,
SHEILA FRANKLIN''.
MY LIFE IS TOTAL FUCKING
ENDLESS HELL
MARK WAYNE MOHR
(C) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
(BOM) 2006-2015
bang
bang bang bang bang, living here is more fun than a barrel of, no I
won't post a photo of them, but I was going to simply frikkin' say
(monkey's)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
the hacking and banging, I was going to tell you that in this wild
hyperspace experience, this was Poolroy, only he was about 24 or so
and heard him telling his friends this and some other things, not
bloggable. That towel-seepage thing again.
REAL
DAM FUNNY, THIS WHOLE WORLD!
Mister
Vitteritti, and Mister Callio; here's a dam flower for you guys. Go
arm wrestle each other for it.
The
magic chain and the magic BOB (Book-Of-Beach). How does Russell
Thaxton and Richard Marcucci all fit into this shit? Well, just so
that powerful puncher Scott Frazier doesn't accuse me of writing too
much dam bull-shavic, from here to great wonderful Mother-Russia,
back in 1969; let me just say that very soon, I am going to really
tell you some shit about this chain. It is not a chain of bondage. It
is not a symbolic way of imprisoning me such as when Sarah Callio put
me up in lighthouses in so many parallel universes, and right here in
this one,locked me up at her great ACMUA water company back in 2000,
while I was with the sixties rock star, Billy Harner. The website to
the water company seems to be hard for this computer to get to, gee I
wonder why. It comes up as an empty domain selling a bunch of cars or
the gods only fucking know what, but here is Harner's site for anyone
who may wish to take a quick sneak peak, YO,
http://www.billyharner.com/
and thank you lovely Microsoft lightbulb, yes, I created a link here,
imagine that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But no, we are not chained
together in bondage, but linked together in forever or in eternity.
There is no time that I have not known and been with, the ALMIGHTY
LORDESS KRASSLE, whom you all know as countless other names, with the
silly word 'GOD' being one of them, totally insulting, it is dog in
reverse, but then, she loves dogs and don't ever let the great
Scylla-Jehovah SAR-AH (LORD-ESS) tell you otherwise, great folks!
JEWELLY
WHITE'S SECOND CALENDAR, DAY 0002, 5:21 P.
HOW
DID THE MAYAN'S KNOW ABOUT MORIANITY, AND ITS FINAL DAY, SO LONG AGO?
This will be explored later on.
1983
was when they tried to off me with the mysterious glandular condition
that I'll suffer with for the rest of my life, and I know
well, that I'm not the only one in America, who is suffering with
undiagnosed and totally unknown mysterious illnesses, sometimes
referred to by the medical professionals, as idiopathic conditions.
But if the chemtrails and the illnesses that result was all that was
so totally outlandish and mysterious and unexplainable; that would in
and of itself, be quite bad enough, but wait folks, oh no, there's a
whole lot more stuff that is every bit as horrible and totally
unknown, with no explanation even being close to the horizon of our
collective understanding. Let's talk about it. The WOMO-MILITUFORCE
went to painstaking and agonizing trouble for 8-10 months give or
take, to do everything that it took; in order to prevent me from
being able to post up the old song, that was remade from 1983; with
the new 2012 song lyrics, onto the Youtube, called; “You'll
Be Crossing Over”, onto my paulaking2011 channel. I
tried for nearly a year, and it was not seemingly a possible feat for
me to accomplish, something ten to twelve year old's think of as no
more difficult a thing to do than getting on or off of their dam
school buses each day, right Sat Sam Trinidad
Wide-turn? The video-link even though nobody cares about ever
going and hearing the song is as follows:
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 1983-2012
Well
now it is 2015, and the song is long gone. WEEEEEEEEEEE! I see you;re
still doing tires, Arthur Crane, SSSSSSSOOOOOO!
Now
a little 2012 PIP must be reexamined here, or going on with chains
and dreams and glowing skies and glittering sights and booming sounds
and weird distant Chicago family, would be meaningless and to quote
the science channel, quite 'moaningless' as well. 'WO',
to quote Billy Harner the great!!!!!!!!!!!
So
let us get into the topic of second mystery, and there are dozens,
just pertaining to this one lousy rotten little techno-pop redone
song from nearly 30 years ago now. Before I do get into this a little
bit, all day chemtrails were there this week and weekend for the most
part, stuffing up my fucking nose, causing throat irritation and
inability to clear the throat completely, and general overall
wheeziness and weakness. My
engineer, Ryan, will have this stuff down and off of the public arena
forever by middle January when he gets his new movie project
completed, so if you don't ever want to see how I took an old
telephone conversation, and made a beautiful musical harmony track
from it, electronically, then be that way, don't click and don't
listen, go on missing things that are so wild and unexplainable, that
it makes any ideas about ET, or ghosts popping into houses, and
haunting them; pale in comparison, just as would a candle flame, five
inches off of the surface of the sun. Still, the point of major
mystery is as follows: If this evil force, the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE
all ready knew that I would be wasting my time since they can use so
many numerous methods of stifling me and my ability to get any
viewers whatsoever onto any of my Youtube postings, then why give me
all that hassle that was preventing me from posting the stuff up
there, in the first place? This is more of a paradox and irony than
the famous 'time traveler shooting his own grandfather back in time'
paradox, and you all know I speak the truth, whether you wish to deny
it or not. Do any of you know the secret creed hanging on the most
secret and sacred walls of forbidden entry by anyone without many
many various types of ''McGuire-ID-of 2-7-97? I'll write it in right
now, but BE CAREFUL, TD pal of mine, Mister Regis Philbin. Please.
You have no idea just who some of your new twisted friends really are
or WHO, my pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No,
just because all of Morianity is over, MAYANS, my recording my life
as a LIVE JOURNAL, WILL ONLY TERMINATE, WHEN ARNIE COMES BAHCK AND
HAS THE BALLS TO TCOB. Until then, I will go on telling everything
that is going on, it is only 'SAFE JOURNAL' that is now over; and
all of this is a safe journal, hopefully anyway. Remember peeps, two
words that should dispel any doubt whatsoever, you may have, that
you truly have an ounce of real freedom in this new weird odor G-20
system of theirs; and those two words are, and always will be;
Eminent
Domain. Translation, we own it all, and you, you just rent and hope
we continue extending our great high benevolence upon you, as if we
should ever choose to stop; we will make it illegal for you to take
another breath, and then you're totally screwed.
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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