The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": BLOG 39 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

BLOG 39 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

ROACHES—ROACHES—ROACHES—ROACHES!!

ROACHES—ROACHES—ROACHES--ROACHES!!

OCTOBER 4, 2018,

THURSDAY NORNING, AT 12:18,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS HACKED DEGREES FNHT.

TODAY'S RANGE: (H-HACKED/L-HACKED).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS HACKED%.

HEAT INDEX IS HACKED DEGREES.

WIND IS HACKED AT HACKED MPH, AND GUSTING AT H.

RAINFALL TOTALS TODAY ARE HACKED CENTI-INCHES.

YESI KNOW IT IS HACKED WHEN IT SAYS IT IS 55 MOTHER ******* SEGREES, WHEN IT IS JUST UNDER 80, AND THIS CANNOT BE HACKED ON MY COMCAST TV WEATHER CHANNEL, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, the Microsucks peeps have hacked a bunch of new things, FBI, ACLU, Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, and any others who just might actually give three damn ***** about poor whittle pathetic pitiful whittle non-Ronstadt me, BRAH!!!!!!!!! First, their stupid lightbulb is on again at the bottom right of my computer screen. Second, the Open Office 3.1 program has mysteriously come back onto my opening icon programs area of my right hand section of the screen. The third thing is the false reading of 55 degrees, and the weather hacking crapola, YO YO YO. Fourth and finally, YO, my mouse hacks are pretty bad again. They can be even worse; oh great HACKER-HATERS OUT HERE, but they ARE BAD, Sheriff, FBI, ACLU, State Police, and local Fort Pierce Police Department, and U. S. Federal A. G.

People insist that I go online all the time. But how can I, when every time that I mother ******* do, my WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE ENEMIES hack the living eating **** hell out of system, oh great and wonderful Sheriff Mascara, sir? PLEASE, PLEASE, just tell me how?????????????? My medical insurance places say it, “Go online Mister Mohr”, Comcast says it, everyone everywhere says this to me. But every time I do anything at all, Sheriff, MY **** CHEWING CIVIL RIGHTS ARE TOTALLY MOTHER ******* TOTALLY VIOLATED TO HELL AND BACK, SIR, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!

Well, I won't get these ******* HALLS-FAWCES stopped, and I'm smart enough to “realize that”; oh wonderful HTHS Sharon P. Hey if my cycle thing is a made up lie or some psych delusion, how did I know in 1968 about Watergate Day, AKA June 17^th of 1972? How did I know about spies and all the nasty junk, secret codes, the whole damn nine yards of today's screwed up computers and social media? Allow me to explain this. My unconscious truer self never forgets all of this dirty rotten **** eating mess; each time I am back as a youth again. It is like a powerful lucid dream that stays with you for an entire lifetime. Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, literally, yes I'm saying this to you boy. Well, I told the great musical arranger, Mister Tom Glenn, that I always wanted a female vocalist to do that song that I had written back in 1969, called “Burn With Fire”. He for some HALLS-FAWCES stupid-ass reason didn't believe me. The way that he looked at me that day, over at my place, at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments; oh yes, I could tell!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, speak of not being believed, I've not even started on this doozie of a blog, kind folks, YO!!!!!! Well, now I'll do a little TELLING, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

I discussed very briefly, the topic of the multiplex of groupings or factions if you will, that the ESS is comprised of. Yes, let us all explore this a bit further now since they endlessly want to wipe me out and persecute my entire mother ******* **** huffing damn ass life, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These prick eating toilet germs do not like what I'm about to do and say on this SMD (Social-Media Device)!!!!!!!!!! WOW THIS, Joanna-a! Me whittle mouse is weelwee efed up, YO!!!

Back shortly into my miserable stay here in Florida, that now is just under nine years long, YO; and NOT 'LING' or 'LANG', all damn Patty's everywhere, married to great Philadelphia Airline Pilots, YO; I began talking about this multi-factional group of monsters, you know; the different parts and pieces to these wild spirit-travelers who control our DREAM-WORLDS and all of us in major beyond covert ways, the GAP (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY) as Morianity has given this name to these twat sniffing monsters!!!!!!!!!! Yes sir/mahm; this is not one tiny teensy whittle bit in my **** licking imagination. A cockroach just crawled on my wall right here at my PC-work-station, and I had to stop a few seconds to kill the rotten little bitch sniffing bastard, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been another RED LETTER ROTTEN ******* BOTBAR DAY FOR THE MOUNTAINPEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Let's get into the meat and the heart of the issue now, since these enemies won't ever quit ******* picking on me, and thus, I need to IMMEDIATELY RONALD REAGAN COUNTER-ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Boy oh boy oh boy, Mister Tom Music-daddy Glenn!!!!!!!!!!!!

To name the majority of categories that we can place this powerful super covert group of beyond stealthy spirit or dream travelers, we would make our outline about like this.

1) Education and educators

2) Investment houses, brokers, Wall Street

3) Electronics and repair shops of electronics

4) Entertainment and basic all around MIND-CONTROL

5) Religions/cults/ MIND-CONTROLLING and manipulating sociological orders and systems

6) Media connection systems, broadcasters, MIND-CONTROL industries in general. Cable and digital radio and television services, net providers and carriers, phone service carriers and providers, and along these lines.

Space research, satellites and all connected systems and industries, government intelligence services, armed and non-armed forces and agencies, and along all of these lines as well

7) Medical industry, especially labs and high-tech stuff pertaining to research

Now as you can see, hopefully folks, this is why I chose not to get more into all of this bull****, back earlier in this second decade of this 21^st century, when I was new to Fort Pierce, and Saint Lucie County, and Florida-U. S. A. im damn general, YO! This is not some easy thing to be tackled in one or even a hundred and one mother ******* blogs!!!!

If I try to tell this story too simply, I get scoffed at and jeered, even to the point of folks like Mister Know-It-All-Pedersen, calling me 'very immature'. Well kind sir, you and Patricia Hollister, YO. So WEEEEEEEEE! But should I try to get real complex with all of this, I am called boring, and told to break up my giant walls of text with photos and pretty colored paragraphs and squiggly lines and other computer office program basic and general damn crap! So as you know folks, I really cannot win, BUTTTTTTT, I'll choose to go at this lightly, and not get all hyper-technical, and elaborate with thousands of fancy college words that don't really efen say a damn thing! I am going to discuss the Educational-Faction of this Spirit-Traveling Ultra-Covert Society, and then I'll also tackle a wee little bit of horse dung concerning the Electronic Faction, as I can really and truly make these things all fit together in some really wild and weird ways that truly will efen BLOW ALL OF YOUR MINDS, YO BRAH!!!

I already have gone into the things, that now will be taken a bit further, with quite a bit more elucidated details. It was in 1984, and I had recently been struck down in the prime of my mother ******* turd swallowing life, with some powerful mystery illness. But without tying in Faction #7, the medical group of them, oh wonderful and Trump-Marvelous “let's not lose our damn jobs” here, not over worthless little Mountainpen; Great and Powerful (GAP) NON-OZ United States © Office, I indeed am unable to make all of the wild dots connect up right now tonight on this blog, or we'd be all goddamn night and well into tomorrow night. THAT, I PROMISE YOU, WOMO/MO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes folks, I took sick, out of the blue, at 10:30 at night, on the 4^th of June, of 1983; while renting a nice home at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey, USAESMWG. This much does need to be said before I go on with tonight's horrendous mother efen tale of damn ass woe, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had recently returned from a trip down to Orlando, Florida, USAESMWG, to visit the ex-Chief Recording Engineer of the RPL Sound Studio Labs, at 1558 Pierce Avenue and 1100 State Street intersection, in the somewhat Abdul scam (ABSCAM) globally world renown Camden, New Jersey. Do not confuse this with Mister low-voiced UM-SCUM, at Cifaloglio, PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE!!!!

So I had returned from Orlando on the damn Amtrak Train, and Mister Jim Tiberius Burr, from the great PCI Computer school, where we had met back in the early summer time of 1973, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG; had picked me up at the Thirtieth Street Train Station of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He then proceeded to drive me back to my apartment at 506 Robin Hill, the second of my three stays at the now thankx2-Mountainpen, somewhat famous ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS OF VOORHEES TOWNSHIP, NJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The reason that I lay down lots of foundational ground-work with all of my nightmare true tales of woe, is so that at later times, all my damn **** can be fully and thoroughly scrutinized by (hopefully) eventually, some honest caring United States Federal Agents, that are not a part of this monstrous and evil EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY. So bare with me as I seem to bear down so hard with these same boring details. Nobody you see, could make up something this wild and powerful. Nobody would be able to remember this many mother ******* untruths and bold faced lies. So I do this, and you';ll just have to try to wrestle through the tedious and I suppose the often quite unpleasant process of reading and reading dates and times and addresses, and etcetera, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So after Jim drove down the 295 highway after crossing over the great Walt Whitman Bridge and leaving Philadelphia; the first thing that I remember doing after unpacking a suitcase of a weeks worth of travel, and before Jim burr left the apartment, was getting into another famous fight with good old MOM. One thing led to another, and the topic of Howard down in Orlando came up, and this was NOT A pleasant trip or a pleasant situation, not by any means at all!!!!!!!!!! BUTTTTTTTTT, a coworker of my good old mother, a lady by the name of Mizz Jane Davis, and a personal friend that she had who didn't work for the 'then Lavino Shipping Company', now called Inchcape; and whose name was Shirley Alv, wanted to meet me the following evening to discuss my weird medical problem that attacked me out of nowhere, back early in the previous June, as this was now two days shy of Christmas Day in the year of 1983. Mom told me that she also has gone and was currently a patient of a throat specialist doctor, just around the corner from her friend Jane. I had not yet gone to this doctor, OR DID I? I have memories of two different time-lines as “STAR TREK, The Next Generation” calls this anomaly of altering events that happen through a line of time, by traveling back from some point ahead, and making some kind of a change. Well, this is major complex, and I totally believe that none of the greatest minds of this century, not as yet anyway, fully understand some stuff the way that I do, because of the simple fact that I have personally experienced some beyond outlandish bull**** involving these damn things, and as a result of directly interacting with what else, but the great and powerful non-Oz, non-(C) Office, ESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But saying a whole lot more right now would also require me to go on about ten thousand words at a minimum, or nothing that I do plan to say on this blog would make sense, because it would all become so confusing. We all have heard that great and somewhat magical saying that “a little knowledge can be far worse THAN NO KNOWLEDGE AT ALL”.

My mother and I, and not the KING, well, not yet anyway, back when we lived in Atco, and were renting the home owned by the owner of the Jackson Road L&S Nursing Home, a Mister Jerry Pliner; from February 1, 1983, through the middle of October of 1983, on Norris Avenue; would meet after my Mom and her coworker, Mizz Jane Davis, got off work, and we all would meet up at a Mount Laurel, New Jersey, USAESMWG, bus terminal, and take casino tour bus rides, down to the Atlantic City casinos. Originally, one time, her friend Shirley Alv was with them, and I got talking to her about the game of roulette, and about many wild strategies that my pal Jim Burr and myself, had been fooling with, to try and defeat the legally built in negative advantage, or 'VIG' that is built into this game. I was telling her how cycles were behind all things in the entire universe. I was even able to demonstrate how this worked, in a non-roulette situation, when we went into one of the cafeteria areas of the particular casino that our tour bus had taken all of us to. I will not bore any of you with specifics; even though they do indeed pertain to many powerful things, since time, and your attention as my Blogaudians, just won't permit this; not right now on this blog. But I do need to say this: Shirley almost crapped in her dress, when I showed her this wild thing. She then told me that it explains some big **** in her personal life, in ways that nothing else ever have or ever could. This is not an absolute quote, but it is a paraphrase, and folks, I promise you that!!!!!!!!!!! She told me that once she had a very weird television set. Right away as she started to tell this to me, I began thinking to myself, oh boy, this is sounding a little bit like that “Twilight Zone” sixties B&W Television show, of course all I ever knew until a couple of years ago, due to extreme poverty all of my damn life, was indeed B&W-TV, but that episode where the man murders his wife, and the TV show on CHANNEL-10 up in New York City, as they don't get a channel 10 or not in the sixties they didn't, but this channel was showing this man, events that had not yet occurred. Each time he would see things on his TV-set, a short time later, he actually was engaging in these things with his wife, in his New York City apartment, where they were living. That gorgeous actress played an older woman, I cannot remember her name, but she was to quote my mom, “old Hollywood”, and I've picked up this expression myself. Now this strange TV-Repairman had just repaired this taxi-driver guy's TV-set. He wasn't happy with the service or the price, and he gave this repair dude a real earful. This magic little fellow winked at him and said something, I don't remember it now verbatim. So this repair guy somehow did this magic trick to his television set. It really was, as just about all of those great Rod Serling TTZ shows are, really fantastic. Still, I remember as Shirley was rattling on with her personal experience with this TV set of hers, and 'her-TV-repairman-experience', that this is right out of that 'TTZ' television show. Only as she progressed along with her story, and we were munching on a candy bar or some similar such item, in this casino lounge and eats area; the story shifted quite rapidly and took a beyond TWILIGHT ZONE TURN, into what I might only now be able to attempt to describe as THE TWILIGHT ZONE ON STEROIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As I stated twice now, I promise that I'll be way more detailed on future blogs, as to why this television set, her repairman, and my medical condition of June the 4^th back in the prior year of 1983, all ties together in super connected powerful red dots, and in fact, it WILL most likely, cross me way over that DO NOT RED LINE, that you all know quite well, I need to endlessly be concerned with, YO!!!

It was several months later, and one week after my trip with the (one-way only memory), to the great Throat-Dock. It was early spring somewhere, in 1984, and I was about three months away from moving out of 506 Robin Hill Apartments, and into 1406 Highland Avenue, in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, to a rental home that was owned by the family next to it at, 1408, a Mister Lowell Patterson; back in middle July of 1984. This is where I was to reside until April the 1^st back in 1985, when I moved for the first of two stays that were roughly a decade apart; into Williamstown, New Jersey, to an apartment called the Highview Apartments, on Sicklerville Road and Kent Road Intersection! I will quickly open with the super part of coworker Shirley's wild tale, as it connects with me, and it WILL blow your minds, so beware, all Joe Paget's out here! She loved her TV like a pet cat or dog, because it was given to her for a birthday present on her thirty-fifth birthday. Within a year of this gift being given, her husband whom she loved and adored like a TV-romance on a soap, and no TV-PUN was intended here folks, but her hubby was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of gut cancer, and he died very shortly after being diagnosed, and all of this was quite devastating to her. But she had few things around her Philadelphia home that were special, and that reminded her of her man. This television set WAS ONE OF THOSE FEW ITEMS. To hear her tell it, she had a little bit of jewelry and a watch, and a couple pieces of clothes, AND THIS TV SET! Well, as if bull**** doesn't strike all of us, I suppose, in one way or another; her set broke. She went to turn it on, and it was silent and dark. No picture, no sound,and to quote the great recording artist of all times, from Motown, Mizz Diana Ross, born Diane Ross, in the Brewster Projects of Detroit, Michigan, USAESMWG, when she called me and hollered this over my phone, “I DON'T NEED THIS, NO HOW, NO NOTHING”!!!!!!!!!!! So the very same day that this happened, as she told me it was on a Saturday, and in Northeast Philly back in the early nineteen-eighties, her neighborhood repair shops and many many places, all were open for business all day long, on Saturdays! She was quite emphatic when she told me this, and I still remember this very clearly and can see the expression on her face, right inside my mind as I sit in here pounding on my little black keyboard keys, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her neighbor was a big burly dude who lived downstairs in her two unit apartment system and he helped her take this TV-set in his truck. Over to a repair shop a couple of blocks away. For three solid months, these repair people messed with her. They never fixed the set. They kept it at their shop all taken apart. They kept telling her that it would be done tomorrow or next week, or the next, or the next, and this went on and on and on! Finally after three solid months, she and her downstairs nabe went over to the shop. They had put the set back together as if they somehow knew she was coming over. They told her to just take it and there was no charge. She asked why they had done this to her, and this nabe who was with her witnessed it, she said to me, in that casino eats-area. I will never stop seeing this crazy and upset expression that came over her as she told me this tale of total horror. After she stood there with this nabe dude for maybe five minutes, asking why-why-why won't you fix my damn set, the owner walked into the shop and had been out on a repair call. His exact words to her were, “We think that you're the devil. Please take this set and get out of this shop”. Now you ain't heard dog squat squared yet folks. It was about two months after this event all went down, since she told me that this final thing that had happened in the repair shop was last week, so I am just adding in the time from there. So it is about a month now, before I moved out of there, and into the home on Highland Avenue, in Cinnaminson. Not only during that time, did I have a very similar experience with a repair shop where I had been forced to leave my automobile since it was a Texaco right there near to where it had broken down and overheated, and for a solid month, I too was getting this same treatment, and even worse things happened eventually, that I won't get into right now. After I resolved this nightmare with my car, that was a total freaking carbon copy of Shirley Alva's TV nightmare hell, my damn TV set began to get snowy, and then no picture. I did have sound, unlike Shirley's problem, but who cares about sound? TV is about a picture! I moved into the home and had maybe three weeks before this happened. I took my TV to a place in Haddon Heights, New Jersey, USAESMWG, right near where my old pal who sang on my two country demo-tunes grew up, Bob Andrews, who became a United States Congressman. The name of this nightmare hellhole TV-Repair place was the A&B TV-REPAIR, on Station Avenue. These **** sucking bastards did to me, the very precise and exact thing that was done to Shirley Alv. This went on for maybe six to eight weeks. Finally, I drove over to the place, as I wasn't in a big hurry, since my landlord, mister Lowell Patterson, allowed me to use a spare TV set that belonged to his daughter Laura, who was back in College, and was only home during the summer time. It wasn't a great set by any means, but I had TV. So after six to eight weeks somewhere, I drove over to this total jerk off A&B Repair Shop. They said to me, “Take your TV set, no charge. We think you're the devil and we don't want you in here”! I mother ******* thought that I literally was going to take a **** in my pants, and then turn around and eat it! There is no possible way that all of this could have happened, outside the truth of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!!!!

But you STILL AIN'T HEARD DOG**** YET, my peeps; so take a chapter out of that CAT-RADIO playbook, up there in Jersey, near the damn SHORE MALL; and “GRAB YOUR TAIL, AND HOLD ON”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I mean it, if you're not ready for a real shocker body slam that will send you flying to the efen floor unless you're absolutely soulless, STOP READING THIS BLOG, at least until you freaking get yourself a damn coffee break or something, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After I lived down here in Fort Pierce, Florida for about three years; I had several old VCR machines that I purchased for about twelve bucks each, at my local Goodwill Store, at the Virginia Avenue Shopping Mall, about a mile to my south, along Federal Highway US-1, where the Publix Grocery Store also is, and I do my food shopping, or about 90+% of it. As time went by, to quote the very old song now, one by one, these machines became defective. Two local county electronic repair shops were recommended to me, by folks that I knew in various circles that I now move in, such as medical, or social services, as an older United States Senior Citizen, who now will be turning age 64 years on the fourth of December, three months away now. I ain't no damn ass spring chicken, kind folks, YO YO YO YO YO! I will not bore you with the damn details, but taking memory to Shirley's story, and mine from just a short time afterward, here is the abridged and compressed version. In the years of 2014, 2015, and 2016, the repair shop down on Route 1 (Federal Highway US-1), in Port Saint Lucie at the mall down there, about five miles or maybe a wee bit more to my south, the dude who owned the place did the very same thing, and eventually when I showed up at his place, he told me that I was some evil person, and why would I bring him a machine that I obviously poured oil inside of it all over the damn place? I never did any such thing, and he charged me money, and screwed me, Sheriff Mascara. But the other place was far worse. They did much worse to me. They ruined two great machines that I took over, and continued to put me off for months, and when I went over, they tried to charge me, and then just ripped off the machines. This horrible place, you most likely know of, Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, kind sir, the Sizemore Repair place, on Delaware Avenue, just a quarter mile down the road from my Public freaking Housing Building, YO sir. I'll be telling you all of this in person NEXT WEEK AT YOUR MIDWAY ROAD office, KIND SHERIFF, SIR, YO YO YO!

Then what Larry ASSWIPE Lee, my Insurance Agent, did to me, over at the goddamn State Farm OFFICE, when I've been nothing but a totally law-abiding citizen, and faithful freaking customer of State Farm, and handing them about eight thousand bucks with my premiums, since arriving down here in your lovely lovely county, KIND SIR, SHERIFF!!!!! YESSIR KIND SHERIFF, we need to have a real serious talk about what these “people”, the Exploratronic Supermind society, is DOING TO ME. THEY'RE ******* TOTALLY KILLING ME, KIND SHERIFF, SIR! DON'T YOU GODDAMN CARE AT ALL, YO YO YO YO YO YO????????? That mother ******* secretary who sits at the desk, and you can goddamn lie detector me anytime you want to Sheriff sir, she told me back last summer, “Larry was up there with Rick Scott, you know the powerful people”, and then she half winked at me, and I could absolutely see it in her eyes, as she WANTED TO TELL ME MORE, BUT SHE COULD NOT, KIND SIR, KJM! Are you ONE OF THEM TOO, SIR??????????????? But there still is tons and tons of more and more **** kind Sheriff, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let me now move this out of the Financial Factions and the Electronic Factions of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY, and move into the really big one, the EDUCATIONAL DAMN FACTION; as this gets more than beyond absurdly serious, Sheriff Mascara, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A powerful special DEAL was made with me back when I was in my final days and weeks of the special-education place where I was attending school, at the Cooley Hall High Hell, on Hopkins Lane, in world famous Haddonfield, New Jersey, on the also quite famous KINGS HIGHWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mother was told that I was being given a regular HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA from the high school where I would be attending if not at this special-ed place for exceptional types of children, provided that I could pass the GED-TEST or whatever that thing is called that allows those who never graduate a real high school to obtain what is called a “High School Equivalency” degree/diploma, whatever the damn thing is called. I do not know as I do not have one. I HAVE THE REAL MCCOY. I actually have a High School Diploma from the West Collingswood High School, on West Collings Avenue, in Collingswood, New Jersey, USAESMWG! I do not know anybody who was ever ever ever ever ever ever made that deal, and I am including rock stars, politicians, and many other big time name-recognized persons, YO. Again Sheriff, come on over and visit with me anytime, and I will show you my diploma, and I am more than willing to be hooked up to multiple lie detector tests anywhere and any time you wish for me to do so!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing in this damn Morianity story is fake or false, like our damn president!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So why did this DEAL get made with me? Well, Sidney Crown knew just a tiny whittle bit of this super nasty truth regarding all of tis very ugly mega-mess, and its absolute and filthy rotten connections in and through the great mighty and powerful or maybe even the all-powerful “EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY”!!!!!!!!!! And yes, others too know, and I think now looking back in clearer hindsight and truer retrospect, even Lenny McKinnon has put those powerful and deadly dangerous two and twos together, and have spelled out the name of Richard Lennon Marcucci. Now why these damn Type-3-Exploratrons want to be doing all of this, well, you're asking the wrong freaking person here, YO? If I knew, by the gods, I'd tell you, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pweeeeeeeze believe me kind folks, and Sheriff KJM kind sir, I haven't even begun, to quote the great and late recording artist, Mizz Karen Carpenter, telling the real powerful **** that lays extremely deep underneath all of these horrible creepy dark corners of HELLFIRE to the damn ninth power, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mister Marcucci knew all about a daughter that wasn't even BORN YET, Sheriff Mascara sir. Now let me ask you a question, kind sir! If it was brought to your attention, that one of the teachers in your county right now, took a student outside of his classroom, and said the following thing to him, straight and bold faced, “You know Mark, you could be a father, chronologically”? I mean let me put it to you in a slightly revised query, my kind wonderful Sheriff sir? How in the name of all that is holy and unholy, and in the name of all of the Astral-Plane Gods and Goddesses, could he have possibly known about what Patty H did to me a few months earlier, underneath the Central Pier of Saint James Place, in Atlantic City, unless he is ONE OF THEM? Being one of them, and for reasons that elude even wild claim making Mountainpen, WHY start a musical group all the damn way across the Queens freaking POND, just to come over to my school, be my teacher for nearly ten months, and then shortly after I tell Lenny the great 1980 record promoter a little bit about all of this over my FBI-bugged telephone, at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments; did the damn powerful other faction of the great demonic ESS and AKA the CIA, decide to get rid of the poor bastard, SIR????????? WOW THIS, YO!

ENDocrinologists and END TRANSMISSION!!!

BLOG 38 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

There is lots of noise around my apartment today, and on top of that, I am hot, with mediocre air conditioning, the rats and roaches are non-ending, eating my toilet paper and pillow cases, and Sheriff sir; I know this is all a big civil matter, I am not some retard. Still, it is very unfair that I am being treated so very damn poorly in your county, kind sir, with my horrendous enemies being permitted to wipe me out so badly, and you and the cops all just sit idly by, and let me die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OCTOBER 2, 2018,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON, AT 2:48,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 83 DEGREES FNHT.

TODAY'S RANGE: (H-86/L-76).

HUMIDITY IS 72%.

HEAT INDEX IS 86 DEGREES.

WIND IS E AT 3 MPH, WITH GUSTS TO 24.

RAINFALL TOTALS TODAY ARE 12 CENTI-INCHES.

Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. The best that I can ever hope for anymore is one or maybe that freaking occasional two day period of some relative peace. It is so damn unfair. I am not twenty or thirty or even forty. I will turn age 64 on the fourth of damn December and I am a totally screwed up old frail pathetic man! Why can't these rotten bastard pricks just leave me alone, kind Sheriff Ken Mascara, sir??????????????????

Remember that old ad on the idiot box for the United Negro College Fund, that came on over and over, saying, “The mind is a terrible thing to waste”? Well it is, and for anybody. Dawn King was the absolute queen of wasters. Many only waste a little bit. I try never to waste anything, as that is simply how my mother brought me up to be, as we were always totally dirt ass poor, and I have been totally dirt ass poor all my life, under this monstrous and horrendous HUNTINGTON CURSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But my point here is not so much about waste or the mind being wasted. It is about the way the mind works. I feel that people who don't know some of these facts, are automatically wasting their mental faculties. But then that is just my opinion, although Mashell Daniels back in 1980, indeed told me that I was entitled to it, praise the gods and goddesses!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So what facts am I discussing here? Well, the powerful truths about how metaphysics is a very real and true item, and how our minds seem to totally connect in and through this magical kingdom that's only fractionally and marginally understood by the masses of the population. Does anyone remember the old saying in metaphysics? You know, “Whatever you can conceive and believe, you can achieve”? It is absolutely true, but only to a powerful point of reality. If the great HALLS-FAWCES line up intentionally against you, with the absolute agenda of destroying every single thing that you would ever attempt to do in your entire mother ******* life; then all the damn metaphysics, and Fascitar's, and Patty Hollister's in the galaxy, will not be able to break this barrier of monstrous evil darkness! That indeed is just reality, son, and Mister Dennis Snyder, SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But if I did not have these HALLS-FAWCES constantly and continually wiping me out, day and year in and out for 64 freaking ass years, BRAH; I would be a multi-billionaire, have a great wife and family, and all of the happiness and peace of mind that is guaranteed me under the great United States Constitution, only this of course for me is one great big ass total lie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mouse hacking had backed off for a while, great wonderful FBI, ACLU, and others; but it is coming back this afternoon, YO!!!!!!! Aniwho let me get back on pernt here along with Mister Bunker-Queens!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Whatever you can conceive and believe, you can achieve; the first and greatest rule and teaching of METAPHYSICS! I had falsely believed late last year, that the Lord Jesus Christ had put a calling on me to end poverty in the United States, with a huge plan that I had originally conceived back in early 1986, along with David Roth, who I had met at a job site the past November in 1985. It was to be done with an incredible idea that pertained to a land management and real estate development company, that was to be called, Starburn Outreach Development, Incorporated, or for short, SODI. Through an ultra complex and monstrous great set of powerful ideas, all put together, within thirty years, ten thousand dollars would be turned into ten trillion dollars, and afterward, this money would all be reinvested in an incredible new way, so that every family in America would share in a system that would forever put the poorest folks above the poverty line, and also simultaneously, clean up all of the ghetto and inner city slum areas, take a gigantic bite out of the crime and drug problems in America, and do all sorts of nice lovely things for this country that my seventh granddaddy and his pals, founded, (the founding fathers) back in the damn seventeen seventies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To make a very long story short here folks, things turned very ugly for me once I so much as voiced these ideas back in early 1986. Rich bastard pricks hate people like me that want to help the damn poor and downtrodden folks of the land. They are all out for them and ONLY THEM, YO!!!!!!!!!! Now, with an idea far greater than anything I ever could have imagined in 1986, because of this new age and its computer technology, I was sure that I would be able to accomplish this very laudable, humanitarian, and philanthropic goal. I approached my insurance man, Larry Lee, of the State Farm Insurance office, here in my town, and county, Fort Pierce, Florida, Saint Lucie County, USA; and shared a very tiny basic few facts about this idea, enough to whet his appetite without giving away the entire monstrous secrets involved. When he never got back to me, and I tried numerous times to contact him, and was given a major brush off; his secretary told me that “he was up in Tallahassee with Rick Scott”, the Governor. She half winked at me, and I knew right then that blood was on my shoe, Patty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No 'houses need to be burned down', no direct threats were necessary, but I GOT THE MOTHER ******* MESSAGE, YO YO YO YO!!!!

This was my last chance to do this great thing, and I would have had money beyond my wildest dreams of monstrous inconceivable avarice, while simultaneously, taking all American families out of their misery and poverty, within thirty years. My point with all of this and regarding its connection to the truths of metaphysics really working, is as follows: Before Mister dirt bag Lee and my jerk off state governor totally screwed me, I was sitting in my easy chair in my apartment. I began to think, gee, even if this all works, it will take thirty years or more, and I am 63 years old. This would put me at around 95 somewhere. I began to relentlessly think day and night of ways to extend my life span. Should I start mega-dosing on vitamins? Should I do this or that, and a zillion other things? I laid quietly on my chair and began letting my mind wander freely but all the while, unconsciously focusing on my problem of needing more time. Twenty minutes later, I started thinking of my days working in Camden, New Jersey, at the various places where I did all sorts of jobs, from sound duplication to security guard work at various areas in town and suddenly for no apparent reason, I began thinking of the job I had as janitor or as they call it now in more PC-times, building maintenance. This was at a place called the Institute for Medical Research. Then for no reason, bang, a conversation that I had and totally put out of my mind, with Doctor Green and Doctor Corriell, at this place, came flooding back into my mind, from 35 years ago in 1982. As you know, I am speaking of transfusing teenaged blood twice weekly into the body. This is just one powerful point however, and there are many more that I could share, of just how real metaphysics is, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

By the way folks, don't quote me on the weather accuracy, as I am not sure that my hackers are not still in my goddamn WeatherBug system computer APP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Speaking of that conversation that I remembered at the medical institute, that later was renamed in memory of the great doctor there, Corriell Institute; and the gods only know what the name of it is now, Mister Jim Toomey, and Mister Northshore Genlow of transdimensional Atlantic City, and the L&O television show; I knew that dirt bag Flaw Scamafart, would make a trade-up deal to avoid prison. Where would that dirt-bag mother ****** be able to get his teenaged blood in prison? He is 70 ******* years old. Has anyone noticed that he is not getting old like the rest of us poor ******* slobs?

In Plankatory, we don't have time. No event is ever before or ahead of any other event. It is not even possible to imagine a timeless endless existence. Humans think WOW, sounds great. It's not great. Endlessness sucks!!!

BLOG 37 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

Ladies and gentlemen, now I'll get down to some interesting cases, concepts, and points regarding my WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCE ENEMIES. Lots of mother freaking people are not going to like this blog all that much, I promise you, WOMO/MO!

SEPTEMBER 30, 2018,

EARLY PREDAWN SUNDAY MORNING, AT 3:19,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,USA, ESMWG.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS HACKED DEGREES FNHT.

TODAY'S RANGE: (H-HACKED/L-HACKED).

HUMIDITY IS HACKED %, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS HACKED DEGREES.

WIND IS HACKED AT HACKED, GUSTING TO HACKED.

RAINFALL TODAY IS HACKED.

One thing that I'll never say to these mother ******* hackers, is “Don't you know that you're out of sight, in the morning light”, and NO, not LIGHTHOUSE, Mister Spellchecker, SIR, 'WOW THAT', all great and powerful NON-OZ

EXPLORATRONIC ENDocrinologists,

EXPLORATRONIC ENDocrinologists.

If only I were free to tell you all a whole damn lot more, but it would be very risky, I promise you. No one believes me, no one is offering me any real world protection from HALLS FAWCES, which are AKA the WOMO-MILITUFAWCES. I can give you some more powerful but general information on Patty's FASCITAR, and even PATTY for that matter, or as I have come to hyphenate this in more recent times; Patty-Paula. I can give a lot of information on why our 'true beingness' and endless awareness (SOUL), travels around to places both in the hyperspace, as well as even the occasional trips back into the Plankatory. Here are just a tiny teeny red-line-crossings, that may get me into all sorts of trouble, that even Sheriff Mascara may not be able or willing, to help me out of!

You all have the ability to examine all of my Google-Blogger (TIME AND DATE STAMPED) older freaking blogs. You know perfectly well that I discussed a conversation over at the Honorable Judge Frank Raso's rental home at 65 Middle Road, in Berryville, AKA Hammonton, New Jersey, USAESMWG, with the great DAWN-MARIE KING, my captor and clever persecutor in 2008-2009, under a very well globally accepted term even among the psychiatric industry, “Stockholm Syndrome”. We were discussing how my daughter would literally be allowed and able to off somebody, and not go to jail. You all know it is up there in those year periods of time, when I indeed blogged this fateful and quite powerful conversation between us. She made that incredible statement to me in the living room of that awesome open-concept 6-9 hall-less room home of mysterious winds and slammed doors. Now just who out here remembers the days when our wonderful President #45 made his famous statement that went along the lines of “I could shoot somebody out on 5^th Avenue, and get totally away with it”? Hey, I remember it, and I'll bet dollars to donuts that lots of folks out here do as well, YO! Of course, that is not proof that he watches me continually and has been since the eighties, nor is it legal proof of my phone and residences and automobile being under constant major surveillance. However, in the law, such a thing as “PATTERNS” are indeed recognized. My entire life is one long freaking pattern of these things, whether anyone out here with tremendous power likes this fact or not!!!!!!!

Now let us discuss another one of my songs that nobody will be forgetting any time soon. The title of this song from the year 1980, and of course is a permanent record of the great mighty LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, as this was of course Copyright © protected, for all that this is worth, as I came to learn through the damn years. Still, the name of this song, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”, and you know my shortened version title, as it is shown in RED INK above, LOIS FOCA. The lyrics to this song, at the very opening of the damn tune, discusses “travels through time”. Things like this can get somebody watched and carefully scrutinized in this world, and especially in a modern day U.S.A. lifestyle. I was a clueless young twenty-something who never realized those things back then. Now other songs and professional artists likewise said things. But they did it very cleverly, and left a lot to our level of imaginations. I mean speaking of those days and times for crissake, was Christopher Cross just sailing away, or maybe, a bit more than this? One can never know. But indeed, my mom was correct. I was always just too open, too blunt, or put without sparing my feelings, too damn stupid to know that society has rules and regulations; every single society the world over, and in every time era that humankind walked on the surface of this planet! How do they say it, 'Mom is always right'? Well, a lot more than most of us give our moms credit for, aniwho, BRO! Still, the mighty Trump and his mighty team of pals, even in the eighties; they gather information, they get to know stuff. Someone who comes right out and says that 'they travel through time', is going to attract all sorts of attention, and not necessarily the kind that is desired, not by any means!

But in the past couple of years after long hard tedious reexamining of multiple issues, and past nightmares, and mega-hassles; I as you all know, have totally switched my opinions and ideas of just who really those monsters truly were all along in ATLANTIC CITY! Not the Callio family and Sarah, at least not directly. I say that because I know for a fact that Sarah Callio and the entire family are indeed great friends with the entire McGuire clan, and the great and quite intense and scarey, Mister Robert McGuire of Tennessee Avenue, himself! Still, I really did have that powerful dreaming experience on the OFF-RAMP of the world famous ATLANTIC CITY BOARDWALK, but I came to see that all along, this was not SARAH, but the great and mighty PAULA KING, and yes, the daughter of the mighty JOHN KING, who for reasons that I was and still am totally clueless about, insisted huge hyper-time, that I hosed myself off with a very particular beach hose right there at Ziggy's Central Pier Jetty, after leaving his parking lot, one block north of his other lot on Tennessee Avenue. My blogs as well as tons of mother freaking cassette tapes, go into very unpleasant and lengthy details concerning all of this very nasty and outlandish mess! Now I admitted to the entire world that after this first week of June in 1980 dreaming interaction with this wild crazy girl or whoever she REALLY IS, I was only able to retrieve originally, the basic tune or melody, and only a few of the words. It was me who sort of REVERSE-ENGINEERED the lyrics as though I was trying to go back into this thing, and properly see it from some very far off point of view. I did write in the fact that I seemed to have always known this person from boyhood, and yes, I won't freaking lie about it. I thought that she was the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my entire life. She was indeed a giant beauty, with very long light brown hair. Just as the lyrics went, I wrote this, and I meant it. BUTTTTTTT, the few words that were directly sent to me in this powerful dreaming experience, I made sure to keep in there. One thing was right at the end, and it went, “When you get home and see me on TV, don't pick up the phone, and do not call me”. The other thing that I remembered was this repeating line of, “Love is for carpenters”. The rest of it was me trying to figure it all out and understand it all, and then to try and write it almost from an observers perspective to the entire thing. It was not until 27 years in the future, at a security guard job; that I went back into a very deep trance early one morning, at the Cifaloglio place where I was posted, and successfully managed to retrieve the entire lyrics, that this incredible goddess gave to me in this 'DREAM'; whoever she really and truly is, or was, or always will be, or Congressman Andrews 1975 'WHATEVER', and write it down, and later vocally record it on a little Karaoke machine that I purchased at the K-Mart Plaza in Berlin, New Jersey, at a Goodwill Store, while on a short shopping road-trip with Eddie Himacane and Ann King, the mom of Dawn-Marie King. King, King, King; how do I escape this snowed-in-KING of a blizzard shivery ice cold blistery day, when I walked over to the great Bank Of New Jersey, in middle January of the year 1978, while residing in Blackwood, New Jersey, USAESMWG??????????????? Yes the © Office has the new updated version to that 1980 song from the 'OTHER-WORLDS' , oh great PATTY-PAULA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now to slightly traverse another RED-LINE. I don't know if this person is being totally truthful with me, and therefore I can only relay what he said, and not produce proof to the accuracy of what was told to me. This is a friend of someone who I recently met while out on errands. He does not owe me anything, and said he wanted to check it out. He works for the Division of Motor Vehicles. When Paula came over in the late part of June back in 1996, to my apartment called Highview, in Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG, she drove over in a Chevy Cavalier. It was all shiny and brand new looking. I was looking out my window, and I saw this absolutely unfathomable giant beauty, alight her vehicle, and approach the main door to my three story six apartment system. It was right after this that my memories all fade out and it was two hours later on, closer to the time when my mother would arrive home from her shipping company job. Now this person has told me that PK indeed had a registered Chevy Cavalier automobile in 1996, a dark colored vehicle, as I remember it to be before my memories all cut out, you know, the Julie White Syndrome, only without the long islands or the school buses that make incredibly wide angle turns up there in Manhattan! This was all about one month after my Saturn Automobile had been assaulted over at the psychic shop, called “The Gathering Place”, in Deptford, New Jersey, and then fifteen minutes or so later, I ran into teenager Nick Cannon on the Black Horse Pike, and he told me that my hubcap was all screwed up, when I pulled over to make a payphone telephone call. This too is on lots and lots of my older blogs. Of course, this was all also happening in concert with, and no puns intended, that 'time-travel' experience, where he took me back to my high school, the HTHS of Westmont, New Jersey, and I was telling people that I came from the year 1997, and had found myself back in the year of 1968, and later realized in a major query, why was I telling these people that I came from the future next year when it was 1996? This too is on plenty of older blog texts in my MORIANITY! You know it is funnier than dog ****. The same people that want all of the world to believe in their flying saucers and little weird alien people landing here on Planet Earth and interacting, are the biggest 'laughers' and scoffers of my goddess damn MORIANITY! Go figure, folks! Spellchecker informs me that I've freaking coined another word. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes folks, why do they expect to be believed and then turn around and treat me like dog puke? Mortimer Mortino the death-angel is striking me, passing by my left side at 4:25 Ante' Meridian. WOW THAT ONE!

You know we could take the simplest and most relatively recent experiences that I have had right here in Florida, nothing past a decade back into time, and see some mind bending truths that indeed, totally all connect up with this Atlantic City bull ****, and these monster people up there! When I was employed up at 25^th Street and ML KING BLVD, yes, I said the word again, KING; working at the place that then was called the Harvest Food Outreach Center, and now is called United Against Poverty (UP) for short; I had people for no reason at all, come around and harass me, thinking it was funnier than goddess damn pig crap. Many of them would call me 'mahm' when obviously I do not have a feminine appearing face, and many would start nasty rumors about me, and still others such as that day in the computer class, and yes, that too is on my blogs from those days around 2010; and this dude for no reason at all just began persecuting the mother ******* **** eating **** out of me. The lady coworker Sandra Waller told me, “I don't know why he is picking on you, you've done absolutely nothing to the guy”? Well, I know why this all happened, and would happen all over again tomorrow with brand new people in this Shakespearean Play, should I begin working up there. You all know it too. It is nothing other than HALLS HAWCES doing this to me. It will never ever stop until my HUNTINGTON HELLCURSE ends with my physical death. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, in just about all cases with people on this planet, your hell is swallowed up by your eventual death. Mathematics however ponders the great notion and question here that takes us all just a tad beyond this idea. What if somebody's freaking HELL is so big, that IT LITERALLY SWALLOWS UP THEIR DEATH?

Just exactly what did the great playwright Mister Shakespeare really and truly know about all life being a mere stage, and we are all merely the actors/players of the entire larger system, where someone or something is operating some great inconceivable cosmic entertainment show of a sort? I did not make this up. This is not some concept of MOUNTAINPEN and his MORIANITY!

My miserable scum bag upstairs neighbor hammers every single goddamn day. This bitch wakes me up every stinking rotten day with this monkey snot hammering. Her entire mother ******* apartment must look like one big bunch of Swiss Cheese walls!

So exactly what is going on with Patty and Paula and Melanie, and those great digits of '1-8-0' and then extending this just a bit further and in any boxed-lottery order, making those two powerful numbers of 1802 and 1980, you ask me? Well first off, when we remove the damn '1', the '8', and the '0', from both 1802, and 1980; we are left with those two digits of '2', and '9'. Combining these two digits in the only two possible ways that can be arranged, we get the numbers of 29 and 92. We have discussed this. Let me take it a wee bit further now on this blog. All of the people who have turned my life into a never ending living nightmare hell, are not totally responsible. They become indwell'd and used by the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES, OR BETTER SAID, THOSE LOVELY ******* HALLS-FAWCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyone who ever studied basic religions and basic Christianity and its teachings, knows how our Lord Jesus Christ commanded the 'demons' to leave the 'possessed' person, whom when this was indeed accomplished, seemed to be totally fine, but these forces or 'demons' had to go somewhere, and so Christ commanded them to go out of the person, and then they went into a herd of pigs. After this happened, the pigs went ape-crap, and dashed wildly and madly into the sea. It is right there in any King James Holy Bible, for anyone out here to open up to the four Gospels, and read it for yourselves! Morianity believes these things 100%+. However, Morianity also knows that in those days, our Lord, or really the Almighty who jacked into this reality in the same way that in the movie called, “Lawnmower Man 2”, those kids jacked into that videogame, and began interacting in the game; told his closest peeps (disciples), lots of things that were intentionally taken and removed out of the scriptures, by the Canon system of the Roman Catholic Church. Only a few brave folks accept this truth, and do not keep insisting on their lame beliefs and ideas, that somehow magically, the Holy Ghost made sure that the BIBLE and every word in it is exactly what we are supposed to have, as Gods people or the Christians. Now I discussed my daughter PEE from a parallel universe, who when Paula did not miscarry the child in that universe, was born on the 29^th day of March in the year of 1997. I will never forget her coming to 1802 Robin Hill Apartments in that powerful wild dreaming experience, and telling me how she miscarried the child. But then there is another parallel where she never came over to tell me that, and I found her to be residing at the Harborfields Juvenile Detention Center of Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. She was an incredible computer genius, and she had invented the travel-tower. This is connected to a computer system, and then things are data-transferred into zeros and ones, and sent to another computer over the internet, and then turned back into what they originally were, by way of some incredible three dimensional laser system. She had been contacted by the great E-BAY people, and they were consorting with her even though she was only about ten years old. I was having those incredible 'dreams' back in the year 2007. I had no clue about lots and lots of things in 2007. I was destined to put a whole damn lot of **** together as more time continued to pass.

The old joke goes, “What does a sperm cell and a lawyer have in common”? They both have a million to one chance of becoming a human being. Well then, what is the damn difference between a throat specialist in Northeast Philadelphia, over near Grant Avenue and Interstate 95, and a Cherry Hill endocrinologist one year later? Well folks, the answer here is that only the great president of our country knows the punchline to that one. Well, and maybe the great Macy crew also!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ENDocrinologists AND END TRANSMISSION.

SEPTEMBER 28, 2018,

WEDNESDAY MORNING, AT 4:44,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS ** DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS **%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS ** DEGREES

MAJOR HACKING. WEATHER DATA IS GOING CRAZY.

SUPER COMPUTER HACKING TODAY, SHERIFF.

WIND IS ***, GUSTING TO ***.

RAINFALL IS ****.

My computer was hacked big hyper time huge, when I tried to open up my OPEN-OFFICE 3.1 Program. It would not come on from the screen icon, so I had to go into programs to click into it, and the icon on the screen is off, so I'll have to open it up the long way from now on until and unless I can find someone who knows how to put it back on the screen as the icon. On top of this, MY MOTHER ******* TRIAD NEIGHBOR SITUATION, abbreviated to my TNS, is very bad today. The toilet germ sleaze bag bitch above me hammered this morning AGAIN, kind sheriff, she never ever stops doing this, and I know she is intentionally ******* annoying me, as it is beyond the **** huffing point of absurdity! To say the very least, kind Sheriff Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida, USA; this is a very BAD BOTBAR DAY FOR ME, but kind sir, it's SOSO-WEIN (Same Old Same Old, What Else Is New?) Nothing ever changes for me under this mother ******* **** eating HUNTINGTON HELL CURSE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The reason I am hated by a lot of these 'HALLS FAWCES' is because they cannot control my mind the same damn way that they control just about everybody else's. That totally pisses them off. Yes, I have ******* deactivated my WeatherBug system, as it is showing hurricane force winds, and a temperature of 52. It showed nearly 100 with no winds when it first popped up, and has floated all over the place, Federal Communications Commission, and Anti-hacking and anti-terrorism forces of the USA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is terrorism because this ******* **** is meant to terrorize me and make me live an endless life of endocrinologists and living endless hells, huh Merry Hollister? So as I said, and now in reiteration: The reason I am hated by a lot of these 'HALLS FAWCES' is because they cannot control my mind the same damn way that they control just about everybody else's. That totally pisses them off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh so now the hackers have released my Weather Bug from their evil demonic HALLS-FAWCES grip of TERROR! WOW, Merry and Joanna!

You just go right on laughing at me. I know a magic person from Long Beach Island, who knows the biggest secret of all, Patty Hollister; and told me. You know, that SHE'LL get me for this. Well, she got me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SEPTEMBER 28, 2018,

FRIDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:29,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE,

THEY ARE HACKING AGAIN, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM UNABLE to provide my BLOGAUDIANS with a weather report, AS RUSSIAN-TRUMP HACKERS are quite obviously ******* with my **** sucking ****!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot be certain of the following facts because I am being hacked to death, Sheriff. I believe the weather facts for my local area to be as follows: It is 88 degrees with a humidity of 70%. The heat index is 100 degrees. Rainfall today is 0000 centi-inches. Wind is blowing ESE at 11 miles per hour, with no measurable gusts presently. Range of temps today is, High of 88, and Low of 75. This is a real true and honest STACEY-LATTISAW JACK HACK ATTACK DAY, YO Sheriff, kind pal and great sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW-THAT one, Joanna-a! And yes great folks,

THAT'S JUST REALITY, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, YO!!!!

So exactly what is going on with Patty, Melanie, and the great numbers of 180, and extending them just a bit further and in any boxed-lottery order, and with or without Sir Gawky Gaukauk, 1-8-0-2, you ask me? Fine and dandy, Bro! Since death siege is right back on me, so that they can get their way today with that mother ******* Supreme Court Justice nightmare rotten bastard, Sir B.K., let us go further in retaliation against this totally mother ******* wicked and demonic EVIL EMPIRE, that's run entirely by the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES OR BETTER SAID, THOSE LOVELY ******* HALLS-FAWCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apartment Number 1802 Robin Hill, was very magical; and I'll bet even Patty Hollister agreed with that, back in 1980. The trouble is, I was out of contact at that time, but the reason for that would take five years to scratch any serious surface about, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, for one thing, it was where I resided in a particular matching time year, 1---9---8---0. A half blind brain injured snotty bratty child however, can plainly see that these two numbers both contain three similar digits. Now before taking all of this too much further, there is the other magical two digits that we arrive at when we look at 1802 and 1980, and begin playing with the 180, and the eliminated two digits after this process is completed, the '2', and the '9'. I talked about the song lyric of the 1980 Copyrighted © music project that I did called, “The Morning Light”, with the year of 1992 being discussed in the third and final verse to the song. But now we move onto the 92 inversion, or '29'. This is PEE's birthday. Sam the maintenance man asked me, and I'll quote him from the first week of the summer time, back in 1996, “Who's your goddess girlfriend”? I still do not remember anything other than a few quick bright flashes for that entire day, back there at the mighty and awesome 'Highview Apartments'. But I do know that Patty-Paula did come over, and AGAIN, had her way with me, to steal my DNA again, and then on March the 29^th of 1997, along came lovely daughter PEE, only she miscarried. This was part of that wild nightmare, that my Blogaudians all know about only too damn well. BUTTTTTTT, there is a parallel world, where she did not miscarry. This is where PEE was born, and lives with me and the entire family, at what over here in this world, is the great Roundhouse Museum, in Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. There is a million giga-tons more to all of this, but for right now, we are only concerning ourselves with the '92' and '29' numbers that remain, once the 1-8-0 digits, are indeed removed, from the four digit numbers of 1802, and 1980, remembering of course, that I moved into 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, on May 1, 1980!

BLOG 36 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

My mom worked in a wild and amazing office, for a wild and amazing shipping company that was known the world over, called Lavino Shipping, of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She met many fascinating characters in this place, even my father, who at the time my mom was there in the earliest days and times; was in the Naval system. In those days, the service which he had joined, became a part of the United States Navy, during World War Two, (WWll) and I speak of the Merchant Marines. My father was at the Philadelphia Navy yard at the time, and the so-called great experiment that never was admitted to by our government, was ongoing. My parents met during that experiment that never took place, officially that is. Mizz Jane Crappants Slutweeds Sleazedisease just pissed in my ear, with her page eleven of mother ******* eleven; so let me compensate here pweeeeeeeeeeze, kind folks!

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Continuing on with my parents, the great never-happened experiment, the world renown shipping company, and all of these totally wild, bizarre, and beyond strange characters; that were all a perfectly integral part of this incredible Shakespearean play; the great Patty Hollister was most likely, and all puns and multiple drivers licenses aside, “KING of the parade”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hammering, motorcycles, slamming doors; this has been a real death siege today Sheriff sir, along with a ton of **** sucking computer hacking. Well, the noise woke me up out of a nightmare where I was in a parallel world Atlantic City, and a huge storm had blown up, and waves were coming over the boardwalk, and washing into the Resorts Hotel Casino, where I was standing. My mom was inside the casino speaking to some totally weird people, even weirder than the most outlandish of her great office crew! I was happy to exit my way out of that interaction, and have had to brave the continuing noise all around me. I am really under the goddamn gun in here Sheriff, so try to assist me in any way that you can, please kind sir. TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To adequately get real far into this office mess, will take tons of blog work, and won't be happening now in some wild long mega-blog. No way, to quote my mom's late and ex-old friend, Mizz Audrey Heller, of Audubon, New Jersey, USAESMWG! BUTTTTT I will open a few hornets nests up today, in retaliation for this ******* death attack strike on me, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There also are tons of 'DO-NOT-CROSS' red-lines, and caution yellow taped barriers, that I quite obviously must adhere to; and even my most retarded followers know all of this quite well. Powerful name-recognized people are involved, and when people with money and power want to shut you up, they will wreck your life in ways that you cannot ever prove, and then you are left to sit all alone trying to salvage lots of broken pieces all around you, in Humpty-Dumpty-ville.

But let me get the hornets all buzzing just a bit, on a few things that leave me relatively safe to discuss cleverly, and sort of in round about ways; yet as ADA Ron Wirtz Senior said to me so well in 1991, “Mark, you get your point across, on those DS-Destruct tapes, as you call them”! As soon as I posted up my last blog, and then shortly retired to bed; POW. I was with some people who I do not know from over here in this waking world system of reality, and they were trying to get me to take them to that house of nakedness, on the highway, somewhere in the vicinity in N.E. Philadelphia's Grant Avenue, and Interstate-95. Someone in the Exploratronic Supermind Society of the non-automobile and Lexus Chapter, HAHAHA, was attempting to pump me for all sorts of nasty information. This was just a few hours after I posted up this last blog in the world of cyber-electronics. But it gets a whole lot freaking better than this, kind folks out here, from Mother-Russia with love, all the way to the damn lovely moon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then I found myself being questioned by some Narcotic Detectives about my anti-anxiety medications, and they were totally and absolutely demanding to know the true connections in all of this, with my daughter and myself. Anyone not half brain-dead knows that there is one, but they were going to get me to tell them a lot more secrets than I planned to, by taking me with them in what mortals call an extremely vivid and lucid dreaming experience. The real joke here is that lots of people think the real thing being covered up here, is the stigma of emotional problems as we called this in my younger days, being the main theme running through this unpleasant tale of hellish woe. If it was really only that easy, or to quote the doctor, “I don't think that's his problem, Misses Mohr”. The real problems are HALLS-FAWCES, and the mighty engine and vehicle that empowers them and all of their powerful parlor tricks, the ESS (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY)! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!

Sheriff, this is mother ******* ridiculous, kind sir. pweeeeeeeeeeze come over and see what they are **** chewing putting me through in here today, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

I am back on that train again, reliving for the two hundredth time give or take a few times, this nightmare looped life. Oh I know quite well how some have questions for me, who have managed to go to the LOC, and read my 1994 book, “TPB”, in Washington 13-600-DC. Folks, I do not claim to know stuff, only to be able to shuffle lots of pieces all together and play with them to try and get a picture puzzle solved; The Ultimate Super Sleuth, could be the name of this puzzle. All the top people in the great United States Copyright Office know a few powerful truths from this so-called work of fiction, the main one being, 'it is no fiction'. Merely an exaggerated work based on absolutely true **** in the life of one MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IF I AM LYING, MAY I BURN IN HELL FOREVER WITH B.K., HUH OLD PAL, SENATOR KENNEDY!!!!!!!!

Will Morty Mortino ever allow me to escape?

DON'T HOLD YOUR BREATH, DIRTBAG!!!!

So just what was happening around the time that I left high school at my special-ed school called 'Bancroft' for 'exceptional children'? Well, several things were going on that were more visible although when living through these times, I experienced that typical effect we all know as not seeing the forest from the trees, and then also, there were a few very outlandish and more invisible powers or HALLS-FAWCES that were most definitely at work with me, YO!!!! A silly puss eating child most likely knows that we can spell a lot of this out with the letters 'Patricia Hollister'. But going on further will take a mountain of time and type, YO FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then there also is Atlantic City, although we all have probably figured out by now, that Patty from 'anywhere she wants to travel' and Paula from Atlantic City or 'any other place she also may wish to travel', is kind of like Clark Kent and Superman, and don't scoff off the comparative made here, because if this is not some kind of a SUPERGIRL, then just who and what really would she be, CBS NETWORK?????????

Yes great Senator Kennedy, I am glad you believe in this almighty being just the way that I do. And as Goddess SSJKK is my witness, if this story is a lie in any way, MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS HERE AS MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, IN 10 TIMES WORSE PAIN AND HELL, AND THE REST OF ETERNITY MAY I BURN IN ENDLESS FIRE AND HELL AS WELL!!!!!!

The absolute answers will never be known with all of this. Still, I know a whole lot more than I feel safe to reveal on a blog to an online world, or any world that could care less about my personal safety, and just believes me to be a total crackpot ***hole! So we will putter around with small pieces of chump-change, at least for now. Patty had some very weird stuff on her desk one day at this shipping company office once called Lavino, and after an English firm bought them out, presently called INCHCAPE SHIPPING, or at least presently as of the start of this century. For all I know it could be anything today, as we all live in a rapidly altering world and society. I know that I do not have to tell anyone that simple truth. I know that Patty wanted those things on her desk to be somehow delivered into my hands, but in a way that she could never be held responsible for the event happening. This was some very strange information about a school that today might be thought of, sort of, as an online college. It offered several courses in subjects ranging from mathematics, sciences, languages, and some occult studies. As most of those reading these words know only too well, I chose a section of the last mentioned on that list, called 'The Secrets of the Fascitar'. Only through this powerful item, did many of the present world events around us, really and truly all come around to happening. This much I can safely say without 'crossing over the REDLINES'! BUTTTTTTTTTTTT should I ever tell how my medical condition really and truly came about, and I don't mean that nasty sex junk that I discussed about trash cans, over at the Medical Research Institute; but if I were to get into all that I know about why I choked to death in 1983, went to hell, and came back as the Chosen Huntington; well, let's just say that 'things would get rather dangerous for me around here', real quickly. Sounds like Jimmy Olson and I need to have Superman fly over right about now, and help us, here in Greengrass County, in or near, or maybe far, from all great lakehouses anywhere! In any event, even Lightning told me to 'BE CAREFUL' when dealing with Patty Paula, sort of like other PP's out of my more recent past nightmares. 'Oh well', Ann King!

Speaking of beautiful Lightning Goddess Diana Z. Arteemis; thank you so very much for visiting with me, lovely LIGHTNING. IWALU, 990-990-990-990-990-990-990!Laugh if you ******* want to peeps, but I tell you all straight right now, dogs are not treated anywhere nearly as bad as I am being mother ******* treated all over **** chewing hyperspace.

MAGNESONIC, HEAR MY VOICE PRINT ON ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS. USE BOTH AD AND ZD TECHNOLOGIES. SCAN FOR WHOEVER IS DESTROYING MY ENTIRE LIFE, AND USING ICPE-APE AGAINST ME, AND WIPE THEM OUT UNDER TOTAL CRUSH DESTRUCT PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM ORDERS, ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A-B-TONE PHASING SYSTEM. MY OLD STYLE AT&T TONES ARE NOW DATA-TRANSFERED TO MY VOICE PRINT USING THE LONG-EEEE-VOWEL SOUND, WITH THE 'A' TONE PRINTED IN COLOR RED, AND THE 'B' TONE PRINTED IN COLOR BLUE.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

GO TO CG-18, UNDER G-189, G-13, AND STOP!

ENDocrinologists AND END TRANSMISSION.

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Thursday, October 4, 2018

BLOG 39 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

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