BLOG
23 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN
MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
Good
morning Sheriff Ken Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG.
When I shut down my compuker back before that horrible damn Monday
that I just freaking suffered through kind sir, it somehow got turned
back on. This is one wild hack or 'whatever' that never happened to
me before with all of the many things that enemies have done to me
for countless decades. Every once in a while they find a new hell to
throw me into, sir! WEEEEEE.
The
torment I have suffered through this year is really taking its toll
on me physically, Sheriff sir. I am not feeling very well, and should
I die, I hold personally responsible, all of the legal authorities
who have shunned me and treated me unfairly ever since this real hell
began happening all around me back in the summer time in the year of
1986.
It
is a quarter shy of two, on a Tuesday morning. The date is 9
February, 2016. Every single mother ******* day and date is a
PRIVATE
COSMICODED NUMBER
in the GAWNUM SYSTEM. Many scoff at the GAWNUM. I am here to say go
******* screw yourself, should you be among this list. Yes sheriff
sir, SATAN
is at work, as always!
WOW THAT!
I
will be major big time exploring a whole lot of brand new non
Jamaican keys, non Floridian keys, non musical keys; but rather,
major ******* keys, and pivotal **** that seems to be behind a lot of
my ******* dirt bag hassles and woes and turmoil, and that has little
to do with actual paranormal and or esoteric and supernatural type of
******* **** that's behind
any OZ-CURTAINS, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Why
indeed have so many John Crowley's and Mark Moroni's, and Mike
Devlin's, and Lenny McKinnon's, and the list is quite exhaustive,
nauseating, and revolting, so there's no mother ******* need for me
to keep typing on here; but
WHY are so many people ripping me off, and stealing from me
since I have been knee ******* **** high to a small **** chewing
puppy dog, YO? No Halloween outing for me either!!!
JOHN J CROWLEY,
Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where
did it all really begin?
Nearby Offender:
Thomas
Giordano »
BOY
OH BOY OH BOY, GIANT GINA! Major hacking!!!!!
 |
The man who ripped me off in 1979 with the tow truck deal:
|
Last
Known Address:
1201 ROBERTS WAY, VOORHEES, NJ, 08043
|
|||||
|
|
|||||
|
Race:
|
White
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sex:
|
Male
|
|
|
Eyes:
|
Blue
|
|
Height:
|
6'0
|
|
|
Hair:
|
Brown
|
|
Weight
|
205
lbs.
|
|
|
Age/DOB:
|
4/12/1947
|
Offense or Statute
Offense/Statute:
ENDANGERING THE WELFARE OF A CHILD Disposition Date: 29 March 1996
Alias(es)
JOHN
CROWLEY:JOHN H SPROWL
Why
have a dozen top musical artists ripped off songs from me over the
past four plus decades? There is a reason, and not all of it is
nee-nee-nee-nee weird and super mother fuckiGN natural; and I promise
you that!!!!!!!!!!! Where
are you SHERIFF KJM???
HALLS
FAWCES HATE FOLKS KEEPING RECORDS!!!!!!!!!
Memories
are all part of the same MIND
PROGRAM
that
is all the stuff all around us. The subject alone here is 100
Encyclopedia Britannica lengths long; I assure you. No one
consciously forgets one single thing as long as we are reasonably
brain healthy. There are triggers that bring memories back, as we are
not tape recorders. However, if you begin to keep a journal on tape
as well as listen back to it for 20+ mother ******* years, it will
produce an automatic endless trigger, sort of like engaging a *******
switch inside of your brain, that is on full power as far as
memorizing your past, so long as it is in the past. As for me, it
caused me to have a near perfect recall, other than for ten minutes
ago to ten days ago, and when that becomes a new-past, it too will be
as if it is etched in mental stone for me. Record your dreams for six
months to try and prove me wrong here, and you will get a mind blow,
but if you would rather record your life, do that.
Then
as you go back, your memory consciously, will go BANG,
as if you never forgot it. It is not that the conscious ******* mind
forgets or even reassigns it to more subconscious regions, as so many
had believed for so long. Instead
it is a delegation into a land of, ''hay you must trigger me, and
then I will pull it up, and until you do, screw it; I will keep it
submerged''.
That is almost a verbatim of what your conscious minds are saying to
you and me, day and night, 24-7-365.2422!!! As for using this kind of
TOOL, this, or PAWM-PIE-ETTOS, or APE-ICPE, and so many others; the
main thing to focus on all of the time is that we need to be
wondering just who is really who, and all the time. If something is
out of character, and off, and you just know it, for crissake, as PP
used to say all the *******
time,
YO,
“GO
WITH YOUR GUT”,
sheeeeeeit, dam good ******* advice from my old ex-partner!!!!!!!
''AND
THAT'S JUST REALITY SON”.
Life
can be so potentially wonderful and amazing. It truly can be a Garden
of Eden, and it was, even here physically once, when Pink
Goddess Jehovah Krassle
and her family decided to take human bodies and love amongst us. This
was the Nodian-Experiment,
before the Eden bull****. Now we all live in one form of hell or
another. This
is why it is such a damn *** shame that we mortals of the Earth's
waking world reality, go on fighting and killing each other, over
this beyond great and totally unfathomable creator entity. We cannot
ever truly understand her, even when we are with her, and while in
hyperspace, we are more clueless than a million Poolroy-95 dudes, all
strung together, and clinging to the wall of a pool!!!!!
There are trillions of ******* things I wish to discuss. Time of
course makes that a total impossibility, huh Kim
Beachgirls Disney Teenbitch Wideturns???
Oh
Julie, oh oh Julie White, you lovely shark.
Are you ever ever ever ever ever going to stop biting my brains out,
lovely giant girl. My
best to your ******* dad from the Teck-Center,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Hey Admiral, you should see my Roker-Neck of the
National Airspace System recently. All posters on YOUTUBE of
chemtrail activity; come to ******* FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG,
YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
|
||||||||||
Sheriff,
Sheriff, Sheriff, is my life one endless living hell. I wrote a
letter to a horrible enemy back when I was twenty years of age. It
was a very horrible letter entitled, “Curse On You”. One of the
verses went, “Alpha
Omega, all the same. You have but only you to blame. And may you
always bear the name, of worthless and disgraceful shame. May life
and death hold this for you, a living hell, a dead one too. May empty
black be all you see, a drifting soul that's never free. A nightmare
through eternity”.
The great Bruce Allen Pennock, king of the cursor rants of Jersey,
from 1973, his mother, Theresa Pennock, begged me not to mail that
horrible 'CURSE-LETTER'
to this lady who I called Annabelle. But I did it anyway, Sheriff
Mascara, kind sir. Patty H. taught me that things are all part of a
giant wheel that always sends bad energies back to the sender, in
this case, freaking me! “Oh well”, Ann King! Nothing ever changes
when you exist in eternal hell. All I have to do is randomly pull up
files of prior blogging text. All things fit together, another huge
“PATTY-H.-SECRET! Things
don't wear out or break or age, and neither do people. All good
things and bad things are nothing more than positive and negative
spiritual interactions that filter down into lower matter worlds of
hyperspace as good **** and bad ****. If one stops to seriously
******* ponder over it long enough, come on for crissake. How can
some people just endlessly lose, while others endlessly win, no
matter how hard the losers keep trying for an entire mother *******
dirt bag lifetime, such as mother ******* me? I totally know that I
was chemtrail-poisoned back while living in 1983 on Norris Avenue, in
Atco, New Jersey. This same **** is used to keep on making me sicker
and sicker, until these enemy mother ******* prick eating *****, bury
me deep into the **** chewing ground! Silwee Wabbit, Mister Elmer
Fwudd, like WHAAAAAAAAA.
Boy
are the damn ***hole Russian hackers screwing with my mouse and my
P.C., Sheriff. It is 6:23 on this Tuesday morning on 11 September of
2018. Time for me to say night-night, kind folks. WHAAAAAAAA!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
No comments:
Post a Comment