I
TRIED TO ESCAPE ATLANTIC CITY
MORE
THAN ONCE
CHAPTER
6
OH
BOY, golly gash darn gee © whiz, from 1988 and 1989, up in DC. At
least they won't be frying in the pan for the next eight or months or
so!!!!!!!
MARCH
1, 2015,
LATE
SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:10,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 81 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 66%, FEELING 84.
RANGE
TODAY------(H-81/L-70), GOING TO 82.
WIND
IS ESE AT 14 AND GUSTING TO 23.
Sheriff,
the proof I am bringing you is a man saying one of home video
machines was filled with oil. This man owns an electronic repair shop
in Port Saint Lucie near the bowling alley on US-HWY-1, you probably
know of the man. Also, a signed document from Joe King, when he was
in a 'better mood' than normal, but under oath, he will have to
corroborate it unless he wants to commit perjury, sir. This states
how he removed an unknown alien contraption from my car, connected
in-between my stereo system and the electronic system of the vehicle.
But the big-bee in the tri-bonnet, sir Sheriff K.M. Sir; is this.
Fingerprint evidence exists that show something Earth shaking, and
yes, someone whom I know can dust, and has friends who know how to
access databases of CJS, for matches of prints. WOW this is more like
a terra-wow, sir. You better be wearing a pair of dipes, Sheriff. I
of course take the chance that powerful people can do things to me,
and I will not get justice no matter what. I have a name for
something that a very tall police officer, back over decades ago, in
Williamstown, New Jersey, spoke to me; after telling him a small bit
of my plight with my enemies while he was over at my apartment, at
the Highview, on Sicklerville Road, to inform my mom and I, that some
relations of ours, her brother John Mason of Fort Lauderdale,
Florida, and his wife Rachel; had both expired at the local hospital.
It's all on record, Sir Ken, my friend. As
Steve Harvey says it so well, “You look great on TV”, Sheriff,
sir. See you later on this upcoming week over on Midway Road,
without any battleships or dukes or Pacific Ocean war theaters. Oh,
that was not hacking by the way. The guy simply is friends with
another guy in the department that has this mainframe program linked
right to his desk PC, and he has a badge, it's all totally
legitimate. I hope you know, I don't break the law. If I don't like
something, sir; I bitch and moan and blog and complain, but I don't
break laws. I'll admit there is one good reason I don't, and maybe it
is not the one my mom would have been proud to hear me say, but it is
truth in any case. I don't want to ever go to jail. I have been told
it is a nightmare hell that is worse than my life, which sir, I find
hard to fathom, but when ADA'S and police officers have told me this
straight faced for a quarter century now, I would not even think to
doubt their word about it.
PHOTO
IS COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG.
|
Looks
nice, and serene, and peaceful. It would look the very same way if
some huge monster was lurking underneath the water, waiting to jump
out and unleash fury all over. None of us can trust anything, but I
have a situation that epitomizes what other people merely need to be
mildly aware of. Let me break out of the covert hell prison that this
Huntington Curse has fixated its energies on 100% since my birth; in
any small way, and I get clocked and clobbered, cubed in hyper time,
lovely Princess Leah, and mean rotten Darkvader Callio. Sheriff, can
you tell me what the mathematical odds, of both the late eight
television commercial, all my 1983 and onward stuff while with AT&T
back in Jersey when this all got a huge foothold in my Nessy-messy
Queen Scotland Mary descended life, and then all of the other many
escapades and antics, of this great communications giant, from the
lands of Blake's, and Rambo's, and the great thing spoken to me in
the early autumn of 1987, by AT&T Head Lineman Arthur Bancroft?
Inside the escapades and antics bag, would
include a totally even by itself, beyond possible coincidence,
shortly after my search to find the great SARAH started in the
beginning of 1996; and I speak of all of those past couple of
years of the nineteen hundreds, ''call ten'' numbers, that suddenly
sprang out. I didn't need Kevin Dreamfields Costner to tell me what
is mathematically possible or not, so please don't underestimate my
intellect and think of me as some retard fool. Call 10 this and that,
most of us over forty remember this, especially if they had AT&T
as their carrier. All a moron has to do is say,
gee, CALLIO (CALL-10).
But if you pull my phone records while living at 831 Thirteenth
Street, Hammonton, New Jersey, in the second half of 2009, the home
owned by FBI AGENT Steve Caruso of Austin, Texas, oh great Sheriff
K.M.; you will see something that will indeed prove to you that I am
not mentally ill, well, other than for this family driving me
half to three fourths insane by all that they've done to me since I
didn't take rod Dangerfield's great advice, that day on the phone,
over at Brad Messenger's house. All sounds incredible and not to be
believed. The quintessential story from where we get the expressions
of, FISH STORY and FISH TALE, huh? Well, you are sheriff of the
county, and you have the power to verify this is all real and true,
by checking the luds, and if you check my residence back two from
there at Jenny Plageman's Mullica Mobile Manor, trailer lot 10, sir;
you will see the first half of the first decade of this millennium,
lots of other times. So how can all the people in the system insist I
am just a crazy person with delusions, or making this up for
attention, or whatever? All I ask is the benefit of the doubt. Still,
I took real evidence of something bigger than this, to the Voorhees
Police in Jersey, on the night of 10 January in 1990. They promised
to investigate it in exchange for my voluntarily allowing them to
take me for a sike work up at the local Crises Center in Cherry Hill,
a few miles away, and I agreed and consented. They later totally
reneged on their deal with me. Why was I not shocked one little bit,
great Sheriff Mascara, sir, I mean gee, really, why was I not all
shocked and surprised? Could it be because I know the ESS is in total
control of humanity, created all of this simulation (our universe,
the creation), and so much more? Before you doubt me and write me
off, why not check out the phone-luds? Is that really asking so much,
OR, maybe folks just don't want to discover that I was right all
along, and telling the full total truth about all this shit in these
nine plus years of my blogs.
See
you later this week. I am going to go to the Mayo Clinic later on in
the spring, Sheriff. This is all coming out, and when it does, who
knows. My cousin Donald just may be elected to our next president,
the only one who TOTALLY KNOWS that this is all true and real and
accurate. This could be what the church believers call the beginning
of the last days, and adding a 70 year life generation to 1948, puts
2018 as so pivitol for major shit to go down, since Israel was
reestablished in that year and the bible makes it all so dam clear,
there is no mistaking it, no need for seeing 'the
impossible happened', to quote Jim Star Trek Kirk, on that
great episode in 1966, called, “Where No Man Has Gone Before”;
and the biggest two jokes of all of it, without 1969 or 1980 or songs
about fire, oh great pal TOM GLENN; are not even the beginning of
this ESS situation, and we all remain endlessly clueless. Hay I was
just trying to be of service, Doctor Rogers, and you seemed to enjoy
telling me over and over, how clueless I am. Well, behind that area
where we had that talk, you also sat at a desk to the right, in an
office where lots of desks were also situated in this large space.
Will I always be totally clueless, Doctor McDonald, Doctor Margret,
Doctor Rogers, and Doctor Coryell and Green of the Cancer Institute?
Or will I be so down and out, and so low, that I will endlessly burn
with fire, and be ''so glad'', huh Diana. Of course I always loved
you. You promised 13,000 years ago you would always be my god and I
would always be your THAT-BOY. What
in the name of 'KAKUDYNAMICS' has happened; SSJK? Why
not subpena all my copyrights too, Sheriff. The whole story comes
alive, and nobody will be able to dispute all of it, once it is all
out in the open, along with Ward Cleavers' automobile window that the
Beaver thought he had broken. You see Sheriff sir, I learned long
ago, lying only takes a liar further and further away from truth. And
without truth, you may as well have never been born. As to why some
Phase-4-Entities (P4E) exist in some of the hyperspace, (dreaming of
fictional characters), it is not simple to explain how fifth and
sixth dimensional energies all intertwine and exchange, and are able
eventually, to find more distant hyperspace parallels to exist in,
from where we may know them as a TV or comic character, here in our
so-called 'waking world' universe of the here and now in physicality.
“Your
move, Captain”? I don't think so. You just made the move, old
buddy. My best to Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Tell her how much I
love her. She can go on hating and despising me forever. That won't
change a dam thing, mister Spock. So rest easy, YO. Yes
sir; that magic web-page, and charter school, that hides moons,
schools, and words; and then pops them back up as if they are
competing with the mighty marvelous untrumpable VH1 music television
channel, YUK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sheriff sir, if you knew one percent
about me and my life up in Jersey, and here as well as ui have been
living in your county for just under 63 months now, sir; you would
understand. You would know th emeaning of th eword HELL, and without
ever having to witness my lungs being cut out back in 1970, and
turned into washcloths. Oh I bet you know my ditant CUZZ David. Our
line is very big, sir. I guess the Huntington's are not meant to ever
go away. We'll just hang in there, and hang around, and try not to
burn up, and be ''so
glad''.
They put all of this shit on a machine long before I ever thought to
do it, kind Sheriff. If my Cuzz-Don would ever admit he was a very,
non pun intended, instrumental part of al of this, he would also have
to admit to his naming of one of his yachts back in 1988. I doubt he
will, but you can ask him if you want to trudge over Monday to the
H-Classic. Funny, my area barely got a spit drizzle, whole everything
else flooded all to hell, yesterday. Hmmmm! Well, it is time for me
to sign off and relax with some TV and din-din, Sheriff. The
unconscious mind is an incredible, and totally misunderstood
'instrument'. IPYT folks. I was clueless to why I sang that song back
in early 1981, in the same way that my two year old daut responded to
me up north, when I said to her, I shouldn't go through that little
whole in the fence. Well, she insisted, so if you want me trespass,
K.M. After nearly 43 years, you know I am at the Public Housing on
Avenue B and Seventh Street. No time travel, no restaurants, no
nothing, and WOW; she was right about that all along. Cornwall Avenue
of Ventnor, and dots don't all connect up, huh???????? BYE-4 now!
W-O-W!
THERE
IS NO WAY THAT TOM REALE, IN JULY OF 1970, WOULD HAVE
BEEN.............
Wolf-wolf-wolf,
WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!! Wolf-wolf-wolf, WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!!
Wolf-wolf-wolf, WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!! Wolf-wolf-wolf,
WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!! Wolf-wolf-wolf, WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!!
Wolf-wolf-wolf, WOOOOOOOOOOOOLF!!!!!!!!!!
Mark
Wayne Mohr Blogs 2006-2015 ©
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
No comments:
Post a Comment