CHAPTER
3
CHRIS,
ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD
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Monday
and Thursday of this week have been VERY BAD, while
Tuesday and Wednesday
backed off of me a little bit; Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, sir, of
Saint Lucie County, here in Florida, USA, ES-MWG.
I
will give today's fucking shit and work my way backward to going to
sleep Sunday night into Monday. I already knew shit would be bad on
Monday after getting a fire alarm around quarter past two in the
mother fuckiGN morning, but we'll come back to this fucking bullshit.
Today at six this cunt eating dam ass morning, my dirt bag ILLEGALS
across from me, AKA JAMES & HIS ROACH-CREW
or the 'JRC', slammed in and out. Even with the new
hurricane-doors can be slammed, but they are supposed to close by
themselves, and eventually; this can damage the property. This is the
one thing that can indeed lead to an eviction
at Public Housing.
However, if you are in tight with those who own it, as are these
mother fuckiGN dirt hole roach lifers; even that won't get
them out. They would have to do something illegal and very big to me,
that I catch them red handed at, such as property damage; and then go
to the police, and file criminal charges. Before I would win
in the end, I'd be found shanked underneath a
bridge, decaying into maggots and centipede worms, with Geico
Insurance salesmen, eating away as well, as this Florida fuckiGN
shithole is literally over run with these miserable stinking fucking
worthless lizards. A blow torch should
be taken to all of them, in my rotten fucking opinion. But none of
that helps me, after these pricks murder me. After-all, I am sure
there is a connection here with Shorty MacInvondi, who you all know
under another 'Paula-King-somnambulism' type of identity. Yes, for
several days they have been back and more active, and for several
days, no matter how hard I try to get rid of roaches with Combat
Motel's and expensive poison tablets, WHEN THESE PRICKS ARE HERE, SO
ARE THE MOTHER FUCKING ROACHES, YO!!!
For
the past week, I have not felt too good. I am doubling my vitamin
dosage this week, until I hopefully spring back a little bit.
Yesterday I paid my rent, and mailed my bill into Comcast for my TV
service. I also picked up some medications at my local town pharmacy,
and bought some Ivory bar soap, as well as a large liquid
antibacterial soap refill bottle. I filled all my tires with air, for
a dollar of quarters, at the place I buy gasoline at, most of the
time. It is the first time I ever saw the regular type of gas that I
buy underneath two dollars since I arrived here in Florida. It was a
tenth of a penny under, or as the pump says 1.99,
but people do not realize they are being
played, every time they shop, with intentional deceptive advertising
techniques. It really is 1.999, or in other words, say you are paying
1.95, it really is 1.95 and nine tenths of a cent; so always round it
up a penny, whatever you see. If it says 2.05, it is 2.06, and if it
says it is 1.92, it is 1.93. It is no different at a K-Mart and a
Walmart or anywhere we shop. Nothing is ever 15 dollars. It is either
14.95, or 14.99 for the very most part, and your mind
just sees that it is only 14 dollars,
when it is 15, except for a lousy rotten penny or nickel. Oh
well, shy sit here complaining when at least it is 1.999 and not
5.999. I am starting to understand how that girl from egg Harbor
Township, up in Jersey, who is the spitting image of the great
Beyonce Knowles, tells me, “Mark for crissake, say something
positive once a century, willya”? By golly she's dam right!
The
attack Monday was on my phone. Somehow they seemed to just know, the
way we all get those 'knowings', that I wanted to talk about an
important issue with my health insurance people, Welcare. The phone
would not allow me to dial through. After I would key in the number,
it was just dead space, nothing. Wvewn the great AT&T, my phone
carrier service, said something is wrong, but unlike the great olden
times before social garbage media and internet, they would
automatically place a repair work order on the number, and they don't
do that any more. And these are better days, people. Right, sure they
are. We all have to look over our shoulder now while outside, so we
don't become the newest news-statistic. WOW, what is wrong with you,
America? Then all sorts of shit happened on the phone, crazy space
sounds when I tried to call another number, and I could go on and on,
but it's typical, or as some may say on great Hollywood movies, such
as one that springs to my mind, “The 7th Sign”, “It's
typical bullshit”. Well, you all know I already knew, just as I
said. We indeed did move into this 15-YEAR and WEEEEEEEEEEEEE, now
what? I doubt too many want to know what I have seen in very
localized hyperspace. Some things may appear to improve in some
pretty nice ways. But always remember the
greatest wisdom of the entire bible, next to accepting that
Christ died for our sins! That is that we need to be aware as well as
extremely wary, of wolves that are wearing sheep's clothing. This
takes me to something that Lightning told me back late into the
nineties, over and over, and I may have shared this info on earlier
blogs, and I may not, as my great memory ain't always 100% accurate,
thank the gods. She said that something beyond fucking huge would
happen to me shortly, that I couldn't possibly guess it if I had a
zillion years to try, and that as huge as it is, it won't make my
life better for its occurrence. This is a paraphrase, and lightning
doesn't curse and swear like I do. But, WOW, she was right, huh?
Well, so was Jim Burr, if you insist on getting hyper fucking
technical about it all. I can hear him decades after last seeing him,
“Mark, it's got something to do with your family”!!!!!!!!!!!
I
won't be blogging a lot. I don't give a fuckiGN shit if a million
read my words, or if you all go away and leave me. I
am just saying what I need to for own records and files. I
crossed the 100 thousand view line, and that was all I wanted to do,
just to see if some huge cinder block would drop down from the sky
and scream at me, “Mountainpen sucks a dirty diaper at C-SQ”! You
know, or any one of a trillion other items that may have happened,
only they did not. Still, I was curious,
and you might chime in here, old Cooley Hall pal from 1972, who moved
out to Fort Wayne, Indiana, USA, Mister Bob McDowell, “Vely
vely intelesting”! I will shout out to Sheriff
Mascara of my county, PLEASE, YO, I
COULD USE ANY HELP AROUND ME THAT YOU CAN PROVIDE. I SEE MY
NUT JOB PEEPS AT ONE THIS AFTERNOON, AND COULD USE YOUR PROTECTION.
THANK YOU SIR!
Sunday, December 3, 2015
CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD, CHAPTER 3
SLAM-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM,
RESIDENT MANAGER DEBRA MARATTO, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!
Life
itself IS A HUGE GAME, far bigger than any of you out here have a
tiny clue about, Mister Poolroy-95, YO! That
night, watching
those Star Trek shows,
while living at 112 Harvard Avenue, Somerdale, New Jersey, USA,
Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in 1996, in the autumn on the 30th
Anniversary of their TELEVISION SHOW PRODUCTION LAUNCH;
memories flooded in! I couldn't stop hearing this in my mind, over
and over again, “Sarah
Kessle, Sarah Kessle”!!!!
Search Results
©
BOM 2006-2015 MARK WAYNE MOHR
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
She
used to say, and I quote; “If you don't like cats and dogs and
kids, there's got to be something wrong with you somewhere”. I am
speaking of the world's great and now sadly late, disco diva, Mizz
Donna Gaines Summer!
If
this was a real world; some fuckiGN attorney, or somebody, would
contact me; verify all my mother fuckiGN shit, and then split the
lawsuits that I legally deserve to pursue, on a 50/50
contingency!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is how I know that I died and went
to fuckiGN HELL, a very long fuckiGN cunt ass time ago; you rotten
old stinky world!!!!!!!!!!!! They laugh and mock me now, but they
won't in the future after I am gone. Of course, it will be too late,
with all of your gold fate, Mister Ernie Merker of RPL Sound Studios.
Shorty MacInvondi hated me, well, another me in another parallel
world. He
got me to use my RS1500US
to bring him here, and then my own flesh and blood, wanted that
machine, and managed to get it. Now if this was just Josie
Littlewall, from up the road, and working for Butler and Mayor
Insurance Company, for a meager salary of $29,000 annually; that
would be one thing. You all know who my dam fucking daughter is, no
matter what Google, and Planet Earth think. Now why would she want
the dog that Dawn had, and my tape recorder; if there is nothing to
all of this; CUZZ?!!!!!!!!
Some
summer of love, Mister P. Robertson Bitethroat,
of Hurricane Talkers. Well, I am guilty of being a Himacane talker,
so don't let me open up my big ass fuckiGN fat worthless loser trap!
JEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE, PLEASE!!!
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MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW
Sheriff,
my fucking dirt bag nabes are killing me today, and here is why,
sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
WELL,
SHERIFF SIR, IT IS OFF TO MY NUT-JOB PLACE, PLEASE TRY AND PROTECT ME
FOR CRISSAKE.
SHERIFF MASCARA, THEY WON'T ALLOW ME TO TYPE THIS. I AM ASKING YOU TYO PROTECT ME NOW AS I DRIVE OFF TO MY NUT JOB PLACE. THANK YOU SIR. FBU, THIS HACK AT BLOGGER IS A VIOLATION OF MY FUCKING CIVIL LIBERTIES, YO!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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