BLOG 18 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

BLOG 18 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

I took quite a lot of very covert siege all day, all week, all month, all year, all decade, all century, all millennium, and for a very large part of all of these things during the prior ones as well, SHERIFF KEN MASCARA SIR, of Saint Lucie County!

Between 10 and 11 last night, I was struck by a totally ILLEGAL MUSIC ASSAULT on me outside of my apartment. When this outside ******* bull**** starts up real bad after a short break from it, Sheriff sir, I AM IN REAL TROUBLE UNLESS YOU GET SOME DEPUTIES AROUND ME WATCHING AND PEERING OVER MY FREAKING SHOULDER AND KEEPING AN EYE ON ME!

I am being major pummeled and assaulted. Time to start telling stuff to this planet that HALLS FAWCES DON'T WANT SPOKEN, since that is the only way to get these turd suckers off of my back a wee whittle bit, kind folks!

First, after I spoke out about PAULA RUSSIA KING the mighty ATLANTIC CITY QUEEN, messing with me and taking my spirit at night to her great Earthly city, she's freaking left me alone for the past few nights, praise the Lord! But there is so much more to all of this “I'll tell the teacher, you rat” syndrome, than just this surface scratched ******* bull****, I promise you all that right here, and right now, and you too Lieutenant Anita VanBuren, YO!

When “THEY” know that you know major stuff, then they also know, (WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES) that a trend is going to start if things progress on the same curve, that will rat them out big time, so normally, they tend to back off of me a little, BRAH! Nothing is a perfect sure thing of course, Mister Bruce Alan Pennock of 2 Beaver Drive, in Barrington, New Jersey, U. S. A.

I have discussed some basic instructions regarding PATRICIA HOLLISTER, AND HER MAGICAL INFORMATION KNOWN TO A HANDFUL ON THIS PLANET, AS THE FASCITAR. I discussed my moms great shipping company coworker also, up to a point. We can add a whole lot more at a later time. For right now early on this goddamn Thursday morning on September 6 of 2018; I simply am going to discuss EXPLORATRONICS a wee bit more, as well as the magical pathway to the magical COMCAST OFFICE, and the wild dinosaur animals along that twisty curvy road leading up the hill to this wild place somewhere in the great HYPERSPACE in a parallel universe that is not this one right here.

Currently it is twenty-six minutes past one in the morning, and the temperature in Fort Pierce, Florida, U. S. A., is 81 hot humid sticky muggy *** degrees. It feels like 88 degrees with a high humidity of 85%! As you know folks, I live with mediocre air conditioning due to a bad thermostat. The Housing Authority will replace it, hopefully Sheriff, when it completely conks out. “Ain't life grand”, to quote my old and late pal, Mister David Charles Roth, of Philly, Pennsylvania, U. S. A? Boy oh boy oh boy!

When we go to sleep, ladies and gentlemen; we are not in control. Lots of book authors that claim to be wiccans, dream-travelers, or psychics of various degrees, all claim to have the ability to control their nocturnal adventures and experiences. Most of these people are total liars trying to profit monetarily on their books, and many more are just plain phony hoax bologna folks who if they were guys in locker rooms, would be bragging about their sexual activities and lying their butts off! Very few folks are for real. Trump is totally right, and when he is right, I'll be the last mother ****** in the world to take that away from even my most rivaled enemy. Remember folks, I can talk. I predicted most if not all of the crapola that is now reality in this world, despite being hated, ignored, and treated like total pig snot and cow****. Let's get back to dream control, as these two words placed together contains powerful ingredients. It would be on par with an atom smasher in a nuke lab. The real deal is how much can a person control, in a parallel world that is so similar to the one where our PHYSICAL BODY lays asleep in, that the “TOWEL SEEPAGE EFECT OR (TSE) as I label the shortened abbreviation, is minimized to the point where real physical effects can be measured and observed, so that personal reality can indeed be improved for the traveler. Close parallel universes verses more distant ones, is why some 'dreams' appear to be almost like being awake, while others have us sitting in a car that suddenly turns into a giant skyscraper with a giant head of our grandmother! The mortal world explanation for these wild and totally bizarre dreams is too much ice cream and pizza before going to sleep. Again, that's the MORTAL WORLD EXPLANATION!

Now folks, delving further into the topic that MORIANITY has labeled and given the term of EXPLORATRONICS; there are three types of dreamers or spirit-travelers. TYPE-1, TYPE-2, and TYPE-3. All normal sleepers and dreamers are TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS, while asleep; even those that claim to have no dreams. This is simply that they have NO CONSCIOUS RECALL TO THEM. We all know how even vivid and non-vivid dreams have lots of seemingly broken up and missing pieces and chunks that also, the greatest lucid dreamers cannot fully recall. Same thing, all of it. Now a TYPE-2-EXPLORATRON is someone who becomes aware completely, as MARK WAYNE MOHR IS, me; that indeed all of this is real and true. However YO, a full blown TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON is someone who really and honestly is in full control, when they wish to be. I do not say that is every time that they sleep and dream. It requires lots of effort to master even basic introductory meditative concepts, that even approach the simplest forms of dream-control. No one at least IMHO folks, has the mental energy or the time needed, to put this into practice on a nightly basis. But I do totally believe that there indeed is an entire group, (A SOCIETY) that knows of itself, and indeed, does practice these meditations, and has both individual goals as well as collective group goals, as to why they do what they do! I have REAL WORLD evidence to support my claims. I did not just start these blogs of MOUNTAINPEN and tell these outlandish stories just to impress the GCS (General Crackpot Society)! This much I totally promise all of my fellow Planet Earth citizens, and someday, a lot of them just may say, oh yeah, Mister Mountainpen, we all thought he was just a ******* crackpot!

As I said, the exact information on one of, if not THEE-MOST, magical and suspicious human being, that this world ever gave human birth to; Alias Julia White and AKA Patricia Hollister of my distant past from up north, as I have been a Floridian now for nearly nine years; will be forthcoming as the BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN continue along, kind people, pweeeeeeeze bear with me! For now however, let us tell a huge new secret, not to be confused with the very very highly misunderstood secret of the great Terry Egghead from the Jersey HARBOR-LANDS! There are literally a zillion meditations that are used by many people who wish to do all sorts of 'spiritual traveling', or what the hippie sixties flower children on their LSD tablets (25'S) would perhaps call “Getting really far out there”. Just as in trying to beat casino games, there are a zillion various systems for trying to overcome the negative advantage that is built into all of the games that casinos offer their players. Without this slight advantage that shifts to the house or (VIG) as pro-gamblers call it, eventually the casinos would break even at best, should players all someday learn how to play a perfect game, as the pros also call this. So just as many countless systems exist to fight casino vigs on their games, in like manner folks, virtually countless systems are also there for attempting to reach various out of body conditions, dream-travel as the Eckists call this, Astral Projection as the psychics term this, and just getting way out there, as the hippie-60's flower kids would have said it so well, five or more decades ago, BRAH!

Let me give you one powerful super secret. I don't care if the dam White House reads this, the F.B.I., Russia, Mister Muller, my wonderful Huntington family, or HALLS great and powerful FAWCES! This message is to those few who actually just might give a darn rats butt about the reality that is surrounding them, and not just people who are hellbent on wiping out and annihilating the poor old tormented and tortured Mountainpen. Do you want to know when I first realized that defying the gravitational fawces of planets such as this lovely blue marble Earth, was childsplay? It was in the year 1972 and I had not yet left the great and awesome COOLEY HIGH HALL HELL of HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, EARTH, SOL, MWG. I was 'asleep' and on the beach of Atlantic city, where Paula King loves to take me all the time, either to sing her songs to me or try to get me to build her damn radio or whatever it is that she wants, and suddenly; I thought to myself and remembered this thought even after coming awake, for whatever reason, “The sand below me is so very brightly contrasted, white and black grains just like the dots on my TV set”. Folks I was very freaking poor and only had B&W-TV, no color for me until well into my days working at the RPL SOUND RECORDING STUDIO at the old age of twenty-five years. Anyway, I suddenly jumped up so that I could land hard back down onto the sand and I wanted to see if it made this brilliant contrast more or less than it was before I jumped. But instead of falling back onto the beach, I began flying down towards the shoreline and faster and faster, along a group of numerous clam and other seashells scattered all over the beach, such as what we might see after a bad storm. It was of course thrilling, and I began to see if I could go higher, faster, lower, slower, and control my motion. Suddenly I remember crashing into what was then called the Million Dollar Pier, now called “Ocean 1” in Atlantic City. I dropped down into shallow water and instantly awoke in my bed, but for no good reason I remembered those words that I highlighted above in RED PRINT, actually, I wrote them down to prevent me from later forgetting, and I remember thinking at the time, I wonder if I think the exact thing that happened 'in the dream', if it would allow me to recreate any part of the dream here in waking life. When I got home from school as this was the first week in June, I rode my bike over to a wooded area about a mile or less from my apartment at the Dellway Arms on Oakland Avenue, in Oaklyn, New Jersey. I went to an area where there was a clearing, and I began to say the exact words that I had spoken in that wild flying dream. I had to take a printed note pad along with me so I would remember these words exactly as I spoke them. Now years later, I will never forget them, with or without any dam note paper. Suddenly after repeating these words ten times or so, and just as I did in the dream, even though there were no black and white grains of sand underneath my feet, I began to levitate off of the ground. No one believes me, or my story. But a few years later after moving from there, or when lovely Patty H. and her friend Santa, helped my mom and I move into a different apartment over in Lindenwold, New Jersey, I began to play with this more, and learned that I could really fly, right here in the waking world. I still can, and I don't care if you believe me or not. Still, I disagree now with the lovely Jennifer Washburn of Atlantic City who told me if memory serves me at all correctly, back some time in the year of 2007, that “If I did this right now to show her I really can, what would it prove”? I'll remember her posing that question to me in another 300 years!!!!!!!!!!!! I am pretty damn sure that I did already blog and tell about this before, just not about how IT ALL REALLY BEGAN! So did it really all begin at once when I was too happy to see that something really bad was gonna' happen to me? It was in middle 1969 when I made the lyrics to that song up, Patty!

Boy oh boy. What an ***wipe I am to allow so many people to give me such a total razzle-dazzle. Shucks and shazam Gomer!

Hate me all you want to if that makes you feel like big *** heroes, YO!!!!!!!!!!! And to think I would have done a Highlander on my cousins, for these wonderful wet washcloths!

YUK-YUK-YUK, WHAT A SUCKER!

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

BLOG 14 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 147, SUB-CHAPTER BLOG 18 OF TWENTY-EIGHTEEN

END TRANSMISSION.