BLOG
48 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS''
CONTINUING CHAPTERS
IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
Numbers
are beyond wild, and anything BUT impersonal, Mister
David Leigh Smith. I am not going across any RED
LINES, as the phone harassment has backed off somewhat. I
keep deals that I make. It is ashame that when those around you have
all of the power, they can absolutely control your entire life, and
limit the so-called freedom that you were taught back in freaking
grammar school, that you had as an American Citizen. The great U. S.
© Office has a 1988 collection of cassette tapes that is the Epitome
of Harassment, TAPED VERSION, as opposed to the INTERNET VERSION,
where I sent down a very wild powerful conversation that took place
in the American Honda Security Guard-House, in Mount Laurel, New
Jersey, USAESMWG on Valentine's Day of 1988, where David Roth was
shouting all about this very thing. He was so beyond correct, and
totally ahead of his time, NO RED LINE
parallels, just sayin'!
The
WEATHERBUG APP hackers are a high school in Indiana somewhere.
The next time it pops on, I will give you their weather address. Only
THEY could have done this, and I do not know why, unless
certain peeps put them up to it, you know, the Braxton
crew. Speaking of garbage like
this; the WE CHANNEL took off the mother
******* “Law & Order” television show. My
TV sucks now, and I plan to get rid of the entire package. If
COMCAST does not let me out of the contract, I'll just quit paying
the bill, and then they will shut it off. Screw
my mother ******* credit rating ****! I am not paying out from
my miniscule mother ******* disability monies, to multi billionaire
hacking scum who deliver nothing but
headaches and heartbreaks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Take that
straight to the TD BANK, kind folks!
Here
is the weather from THE WEATHER CHANNEL as of approximately a quarter
shy of two this **** chewing horrendous Wednesday butt-wiping
afternoon. This mother ******* upstairs nabe is about to have me CALL
911. The hammering is extremely loud, beginning at mother *******
2:11, and the enemies TOTALLY KNOW that my machine is always ******
up and displays the time on the screen an hour earlier during
DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME parts of the year. So Jane Slutbag Fonda
screwed me good, making me see the ONES. Here is my **** phlegm RAPED
(compensated) FIVE numbers, now!
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
As
I said, I was about to do the goddamn mother ******* weather report,
when this bitch above me started with her **** eating sledge hammer
on my **** swallowing walls, KIND SHERIFF MASCARA,
SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Temperature:
87 at 1:48 in Fort Pierce, FL.
Humidity
is 61%, feeling like 93 DF.
Wind
blowing from the E at 10 MPH.
There
are no wind gusts presently.
It
is partly cloudy in town, it says, well, where I am I'd put it at
just about completely sunny.
Tomorrow's
prediction is partly cloudy.
High
of 87 DF, with possible showers and storms.
Wind
out of the ENE at 10-15 MPH.
Upstairs
has maintenance in there, making horrible loud mother ******* sounds.
This day is beyond SUPER BOTBAR. First super sledge hammering
sounds, now super loud power tool buzzing is going on. It sounds like
the entire mother ******* apartment is being demolished by miniature
nukes! I awoke from horrible mother ******* **** chewing NIGHTMARES
about an hour ago. I thought I could escape by remaining awake here,
but the same FAWCES there are making my life here TOTAL ******* HELL,
SHERIFF, SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MAGNESONIC,
G-7 OPEN COMMAND.
HEAR MY VOICE PRINT ON ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS.
WHOEVER IS PERSECUTING ME WITH NIGHTMARES AND NOISE TODAY, WILL BE
TOTALLY WIPED OUT AND DESTROYED, ALONG WITH ALL WHOM THEY LOVE.
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
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO CG-18, UNDER G-189, G-13, AND STOP!
The
nightmares were absolutely ******* off the dial horrific and putrid.
My mother was in it and was a total ******* monster! I had a boy of
approximately age 14 years or so who was really screwing with me, and
I was back at Cifaloglio in this parallel ****hole world, and in a
reality where my mom was alinve and living with me, and still working
at the shipping company over in Philly. This nightmare was so
horrible, that even the Mountainpen wouldn't dare to blog the details
of it. Many
times, indeed, when I pop out of a nightmare, where I am being major
HALLS-FAWCES PERSECUTED, my life here follows suit immediately or
within a tiny march of minutes from getting the hell out of *******
bed,
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
I
was planning to do some light errands this afternoon, but when a day
goes this bad, straight out of the mother ******* ***** huffing gate;
I
DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER FROM MY DOOR, THAN THE DAMN ASS TRASH SHUTE!
Even by throwing trash out constantly, the goddamn roaches here in
this damn hellhole are beyond unmentionable and monstrous, KIND
SHERIFF, YO!!!!!
ENDlessness
AND END TRANSMISSION.
BLOG
47 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS''
CONTINUING CHAPTERS
IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
I
AM BEING SUPER ******* COMPUTER HACKED TONIGHT, SHERIFF MASCARA,
AND MY TELEPHONE HARASSERS ARE MAJOR BAD
ALSO. PLEASE EXPECT ME TO ARRIVE SOMETIME
TOMORROW AFTERNOON, AT YOUR MIDWAY ROAD OFFICE, SIR. I
WANT YOU TO GET MY NUT JOB DAUGHTER OFF OF MY BACK, ALONG WITH
HER FRIENDS AND FAMILY, SIR, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think the
proof that I am planing to take with me will dispel many or most of
any of your doubts, regarding me, and my nightmare story. As for
making you believe me about the ESS, hey; I am not greedy. We
won't even be going there, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh
yes, my WEATHERBUG-APP POPPED ON, TELLING ME
THAT IT IS 28 DEGREES; KIND SHERIFF MASCARA SIR. I
GODDAMN WISH!!!
Yes
it is now eight of the clock on this **** huffing Sunday night. Ever
since Thursday afternoon; HALLS
FAWCES, TAWF,
THE ESS, THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
or “whatever” Congressman Robert Andrews,
or anyone else may choose to call this horrible bunch of nightmarish
toilet germ bags; have been on me like black
flies on a hot July garbage truck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MAGNESONIC,
G-7 OPEN COMMAND.
HEAR MY VOICE PRINT ON ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS.
WHOEVER IS PERSECUTING ME WITH MY TELEPHONE, AND HACKING MY PERSONAL
COMPUTER, WILL BE TOTALLY WIPED OUT AND DESTROYED, ALONG WITH ALL
WHOM THEY LOVE.
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
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO CG-18, UNDER G-189, G-13, AND STOP!
Now
since it is not mother ******* goddamn **** sucking 28 degrees, I of
course already
have a weather report
to give you all, from my
Comcast-television system at my local Channel-25,
which here in Fort
Pierce, Florida, USA-ESMWG,
is “THE
WEATHER CHANNEL”.
At
5:49 P.M. On 10-14-2018:
******************
83
degrees, and sunny, feeling like 99 DF.
Tonight,
a 75% chance of storms, with a 40% chance of some rain.
***************************
Tomorrow's
Forecast: high of 77 degrees and feeling close to a buck and a
nickel, with a 10% chance of rain.
Tuesday's
predicted high is 88 DF, with mostly sunny skies.
Wednesday's
predicted high is 87 DF, with partly cloudy skies.
I
have been sent a message to “QUIT CROSSING OVER RED
LINES”, with my kid and her family, OR ELSE;
kind Sheriff, sir!!!!!!
This
is what 'THEY' do to me, when I go too far; kind Sheriff KJM, sir,
YO!!!!!!! Freedom in this nation, is
nonexistent. It is all about how powerful people are, and
that alone will depend on
the degree and amount of freedom that is available to us. I'll bet
dollars to damn donuts, kind sir, that I'm not teaching you one
little tiny thing here, SIR!!!
Yes
folks, on top of death siege persecution, I am
sweltering in the heat, with mediocre air conditioning, here in this
lovely Public Housing Building. Even
the people down at the Palm Beaches, the local TV media,
where I receive my local news information from; are saying that
'this is ridiculous'. Autumn
temperatures just are not coming. Even if the daily highs
are maybe two degrees over normal for middle October, the
lows are way too high. It should be getting down into the
lower seventies, instead of maybe, and I mean maybe; an occasional
night where the damn temps drop just out of the eighties, by maybe a
lousy ass degree or two!!!!!!!!!!
After
getting out of bed late, maybe around a half hour give or take, my
harasser called me and refused to say a
word. The caller-ID display comes up as 5:28 PM 10-14, and
only displays the words, “Private Number”.
They hack into my settings at my Comcast Account, and no matter how
many times I go to a 'block-call on private
numbers'; the hackers get in, and reverse it to 'undo
the feature', just as they undo my
Studder-Tone voice-mail feature.
BUTTTTTTTT, these **** lickers then did another parlor trick to me
today. Five seconds after I answered the phone and said “hello”,
they were ready to call me instantly again, making the Call-Waiting
beep go off, and the display on the Television Screen came on. This
time, the Identifier System picked up the following information: 5:28
PM 10-14, and above that, it read Fawn
Grove, PA. Below this, it read,
(717) 897-1801. For those who know about the monster slut
neighbor, that moved into the apartment below me, when I resided at
1802 Robin Hill, the friend of
Debbie Harry the Playboy Bunny; she was in Apartment #1801.
Interesting coincidence, huh?
Now
while my physical body lay sleeping
on my bed, my spirit was exploring the
hyperspace, in a very wild parallel
universe, where STARBURN OUTREACH
DEVELOPMENT CORPORATION exists; as I have told you all about
on numerous blogs, throughout the past dozen plus years now; since
Morianity began in January, of the year 2006. I was on the Starburn
ODI HQ (Headquarters) property, somewhere in
Eastern-Central-Pennsylvania, on the Starburn Lake; which is a
man-made lake, made by us, the property developers. I was on a boat
on this lake, and I was with the man who here in this universe, is an
actor by the name of Steven Hill. This was the dude who played the
part of the original District Attorney, Mister
Adam Schiff, of New York County, on the fictional television
show, called “Law & Order”.
I had become totally aware in this experience, that I
was really me over here in this universe, yet was inside
of this-double-of-myself, over there in that parallel world.
When I became fully aware, this makes me a
“Type-3-Exploratron”.
So I tested out what I believed to be true about EXPLORATRONICS.
I was then able to take temporary control over my doppelganger-self.
I shifted the conversation around from what my other self persona in
hyperspace was talking about, some mundane trivial nonsense; and I
began to tell this man all about the parallel world where another me
was living, and was being persecuted to death. But then something
beyond weird happened. It seems that it is not quite as cut and dried
to be able to do this take-over of becoming dominant rather than just
recessant, in a doppelganger hyperspace body. Mister
Schiff instantly told me, right as I began to feel this weird surge
of cohesiveness between the two-me's, that he also is asleep and in
control. It seems that only a truly advanced T3E is able
to be in total charge. What I mean here folks, quite frankly and
directly, is that when one of them decides to
take you on a dream-journey,
as I'll phrase it; and then you as part of their experiment, attempt
to control your own lab-rat-self; they get onto it immediately. I
then was switched right back to my recessant self, where as you all
know, many 'dreams' feel as if you're watching a movie, and in
fact, you sort of are. Then he really began to pump me for a whole
lot of information. I tried hard to resist, but found myself just
talking away, or really, found my other self
doing it, and I was totally helpless to stop it, just watching the
damn dream movie. I was only a T2E,
without any control. He made me tell all sorts of secrets,
but then he did a little bit of quid pro quo, back to my other self.
He asked me if I remember the major times of my telephone harassment,
back in that parallel world? He was speaking of my life here while
awake and conscious. He then went onto tell me that my
1983 days in Atco, as well as my 2000-2004 days at Jenny's Trailer
Park, were all being done by the same people; and that they
are doing it again in 2018, and they were doing it last Christmas
time in late 2017 also. I asked him how
it was possible that a thirteen year old girl could know all about
me, as well as do all of these powerful electronic parlor
tricks? He then told me to see the horrible nightmare truth, that
Pink Goddess is indeed my incredible
daughter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You see Sheriff Mascara sir; I am
powerless to fight such forces and inconceivable powers! The
conversation went on quite a while on this boat, out on Starburn
Lake, in this parallel world. Just me and Adam
Schiff. Or do I call him Steven Hill. Or for that matter, do I
call him the Atlantic City Mailman?
No Sheriff sir, I NEVER FORGET
ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!! NEVER! I doubt that the great American
Telephone and
Telegraph Corporation does
either!!!!!!!!!
The
EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY,
or whatever they call themselves; is a lot more than spiritual
travelers, or Astral
Plane Coins
and Coils, who lose too much energy, and need to
replenish, and while doing so; dream down
into waking world hyperspace. All things that exist
physically, after mighty Einstein's information, of 'energy being
divided by the square of the constant'; exist as two
realities or TRUTHS. They exist as
their own actual isness of beingness. Then
they exist as collections of
similarities. This is a powerful
Morianity principal, that I've not yet so much as “Karen
Carpenter begun” to tackle, with my
Blogaudians, YET!!!!!!!! This is why
reality alters, by having a group of players walk over to a
roulette table, as long as this group, are all
players who come to roulette tables,
where various numbers are spun by
dealers. Each person then will effect outcomes
of the new wheel, where they are in close proximity to, standing or
seated. The effects are not real large,
or for that matter, real small, but they
indeed are as true and real as the hair
on our heads, or the lack thereof in many cases such as mine;
without having access to two 'one-quart'
teenaged blood transfusions per
week, like dirtball Mister Man! The guy is freaking 70,
and he looks 33 for crissake!
Beginning
next week, Mountainpen's Blogs will
not make subtle hints, or
discuss in any way, THAT-FAMILY. In
exchange, the phone harassment STOPS!
So if you want this little deal, it is your
move! I'll be waiting for your answer. Also, I have
removed my kid from my will, and placed my father's sea charts in the
hands of the Fisher Museum of Florida,
when I expire! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
But
speaking ever so indirectly about the music
world, let me say something that even TAWF
has no right to tell me what to,
and what not to say,
or discuss. All my life, and I mean all
of it; my adult life anyway, since a year or two, or three, after
being out of school, from the Cooley Hall
Nut-Kid Joint, on Hopkins Road, in Haddonfield, New
Jersey, USAESMWG; I HAVE BEEN ABSOLUTELY
COMPLETELY STOPPED from doing MUSIC,
the one thing I have always had a passion for, and some talent in.
I do not have the big bucks, nor was I willing to become part of some
drug-thug culture, in order to get the big bucks, so I could obtain
the great musical apparatus that
allows a person's music to really shine,
both instrumentally, as well as vocally; and the whole damn 324
inches. On top of that, I have not imagined for one lousy damn
minute, not ever, that even when I am
willing to pay lots of money to have my stuff done professionally at
studios; somehow they always manage
to make it second-rate or even mickey mouse sounding, as if
they have been either influenced from their
dreams and sleep, or paid or
threatened off directly; but they never
ever do any of the good stuff to the vocals that we all hear on TV
and radio and internet, and they refuse to ever
make it sound really alive and great. I tell them I don't want
dead studio sound. I tell them I want the 'Phil ******* Specter'
living energy sound, that all the really great EDM stuff has; and
they just ignore me, and refuse me; even
though my money should be as
green as anyone else's. The reason is so simple it
falls off the snow pile as white! Do I have
proof that I am not imagining this wild claim, you ask me, folks?
Well, you be the mother ******* Copper-Kessle JUDGES, from the
Atlantic City Fudge Shop all the way to Studio-City!!!!!!!!!!! When I
paid Mister Jan Nace, back in 1980, for my four demo records done at
his ****hole studio, in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG, called Maxfield; I
took the tapes he handed me to my
studio where I worked as a
Tape-Duplicator. I gave it to the
Chief Recording Engineer,
Mister Howard
Solomon!
He said to me, and this is a quote, Mister Schiff sir, “I wonder
why the asshole gave you a dead tape”? I
think we all know what's going on here, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir,
YO! The RIAA is scared ****less of my
talent and my music. They need to compensate for it by
making damn ass sure that they do really
lousy jobs when they record my stuff, or else, somebody
just might say, WO, screw that Huntington
Curse, this man needs a mother *******
recording contract, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BUTTTTTTTT, we all know the rules
and the regs of the mighty mother ******* ESS,
YO BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
In
that parallel world where Starburn exists, I have a wonderful younger
kid whose name is Patty-Paula Junior. She insists on people
calling her, “P”, just
P, no other name. She's quite adamant about this. Just as she
has been fascinated by computer technology
and World War Two's Japanese Comocosi
Pilots, her third big thing in life is that everyone,
including her dad, who she loves beyond words, calls
her P! In this incredible world that
parallels this one, and countless zillions of others, existing
in the vast unfathomable fifth dimensional hyperspace; not
only is the SODI-HQ in Pennsylvania, but
I have a Jersey home in Egg
Harbor
City, and in this
universe, this is where the Roundhouse Museum
stands. All around that place, is dozens of acres of land, in
both worlds. Over there, I own it all, and have a multi-billion
dollar land management and development operation. One day, over
there; a man named McGreevy came to see me. Just as over here, he was
a politician. We were going to make a deal that
I'll admit, was anything but legal, but
hey, sue me or jail me; this is in a
parallel world. You can't lock a man up for what happens
in 'his dreams'! I was going to
make sure that he won the Jersey Gubernatorial
race, but in exchange for him pardoning my
daughter Pee. She almost beat four state troopers to death
for killing me. They killed me when they shot me in the back, as I
tried to run away, when I was cornered in a wooded area, where they
wanted me to meet with them, and some weird official; and I was dumb
enough to go to this isolated place. When I realized it was a trap
and I was going to be shot, I figured I may as well try to run, and
boom. But I was placed in a cryogenic chamber, where many people who
are wealthy, have chosen to be laid to rest and frozen in a
laboratory, with the hope of being reanimated at some future date,
when the technology exists to repair us and
restore our lives. I am not going to get into the entire mess,
but it is why I wrote the basic theme in 1994, on my © book, “The
Permission Barrier”. You see there
is a time-paradox here. Pee nearly killed them because they
had killed me. But I was alive when I made this deal. You
will get your mind blown if you really try to get your head around
this wild hyper-nightmare! She was sent to the
Harborfields Detention Center in
the city where we all lived, as over there, Patty-Paula did not think
that I was too immature, and she said yes, and she
married me. Also, she never came to
Apartment #1802 to tell me that she
miscarried Pee, as she never did; and in fact, I
never lived in any of the Robin Hill Apartments over in that parallel
universe, not 1802, not 506, and not 1102. And this is not
some folgy-dolgy
story. By the way, over here in this world, that
has no meaning. In the place where all of this went down
however, it means something along the lines of
silly or stupid, or even just Mickey
Mouse. Just wanted to add in
this little morsel of interesting information, YO! Just
as the Caller-ID info is quite interesting as it not only
showed the downstairs slutty Playboy Bunny neighbor's Apartment
number at Robin Hill, but it also showed a Pennsylvania
town somewhere, called Fawn
Grove. Just how far this may be
from SODI-HQ is anyone's guess. Well, actually
it is beyond distance far, since we're talking about two different
worlds, but I mean, if this world had this place in operation,
I am just curious to know how close it may be to this Caller-ID
location. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
Without trying to ever blow your minds about the deal with the
governor, verses me being blown away, and then alive again, as though
nothing ever happened; there is quite a story
to many various facets of this. One is from right here in this
world, and about a dozen years back, when these blogs were in their
infancy stage, and I was living over at the
Jenny Plageman Trailer Park, in Mullica Township, New
Jersey, USAESMWG. I had been suddenly thrust into a world where I
had no registration on my automobile. In Jersey, road
stops are part of life, just routine stops. You don't have to be
speeding or have a light out, or you didn't give a turn signal, or
you swerved a few inches. These are routine
traffic stops, where all of your ID
is checked, and Jersey is strict
as all hellfire. I would never
ever not have insurance, registration, or a 100% active and legal
drivers license, not up there in Jersey, and you all
better not either, IPYT! Yet I woke up one day, in a world where I
did not have any registration. I don't mean
that some ******* computer hacker did something. I mean I did not
have it. I had no paperwork in my wallet, I mean yes, I had my
insurance card and I was totally legally driving with in-force car
insurance, through the State Farm.
But it gets way better, for those who never read the first year or
two of my original blogs, as I did tell the
story to the entire world. In my wallet, along
with no registration card, was a
receipt from a grocery store, called the Incollingo's
Grocery
Store,
in Egg Harbor City.
It showed that I had bought several items. One was a box of yellow
cupcakes. I DO NOT
EAT ANY CAKE, OR CUP CAKE, THAT IS
NOT DEVILS FOOD, BROWN, ABSOLUTELY
NO YELLOW! But there it was,
just as plain as the color white, falling off
of a large snow pile. I had been thrown
into a parallel world that was so close, it resembled enough
to pass as my waking reality, yet
distant enough to make me go and
re-register my car, that I
absolutely mother ******* know that I
ALREADY DID BEFORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I am
getting further and further off my point here, folks. I
got Governor McGreevy into office, over in this parallel world;
and in exchange, he was going to pardon my
daughter PEE for breaking into the home of a New
Jersey State Police Officer, and try to beat him to death.
After about 20 of his fellow officers came to his rescue, and four of
them were nearly beaten to death, PEE was
eventually restrained. Then she was tried and sentenced to
juvy-detention, until the age of 18. This
would be March 29, 2015. I know the story has lots of
chinks in it. How can I be dead and alive?
Hey, how can I have a receipt for vanilla flavored cupcakes,
when I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT EAT VANILLA
flavored cake????????????? And I'd never
ever EVER
NEVER, to quote the great
Diana Ross; drive without all
three legal updated current documents; a valid
license,
valid insurance,
and valid registration!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lab-Techs,
teachers, and daughters, “WOW THIS”. The
ESS and 5th
dimensional hyperspace,
is the only possible and sane rational explanation of how all of this
can honestly be real and exist, within the boundaries of the natural
forces around us. But let's get totally
1983 Mike Jackson serious here for a moment or five, kind
Blogaudians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If the great
National Security Agency of America, got all worked up about
my copyrighting that crap regarding question
#18, on the “SORA”
Security Guard Test of 2007; how do you think they feel about
all of this mother ******* bull****? Now we have the great Almighty
Mister Trump as our president! You
don't think he fully knows about the 2007 deal with my automobile
registration, and the great Egg Harbor Incollingo Grocery Store?
Hey, do you want some icing on your damn cupcakes here, kind
peeps? Walk outside of this grocery store,
and go about 40-50 yards to the East-South-East, and
you are right there at the great awesome and wonderful home of
Leticia Tilley,
and her marvelous unfathomable family of all weird
HYPERSPACE-EQUATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now do you see why
Trump went total ape-dung that day,
when the family was all there with me, at his mighty and
marvelous freaking TRUMP PLAZA HOTEL AND
CASINO of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG????
I
think poor Mister Bonjovi is still scratching his ***hole, along with
the great engineer, Ryan. Gee, just who really was that nut-job who
came over and did those strange recordings? Just
who are you, on July 7th of 2015, or for that
matter, on July 12, 1970? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
3:52
AM, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2018
BLOG
46 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN
MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
The
Weather Channel report at 3:45 A.M. From the Comcast Cable Television
ESS System, transcribed to this blog, legally, as I pay my cable
bills promptly and as a customer, I am sure it is legal to report the
weather in my damn ass town, YO!
74
degrees Fahrenheit, and clear in Fort Pierce, Florida,
USA-ESMWG.
Prediction
for tomorrow is showers
and a high of 86 degrees, & 50%
rain chances.
The
last two days were major major major persecution for the pitiful
helpless MOUNTAINPEN, YO FOLKS!!!!!!!! I fully intend very
soon, to take my passport and get out of this horrible place and EVIL
EMPIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I intend to go to another place, and walk
into the damn ass consulate or wherever one goes in a foreign land,
and claim death persecution in my homeland, and tell them I refuse to
leave and go back there, and DIE.
I
can tell secrets from now until the mother ******* cows come home
from pasture, and it won't stop these evil
HALLS ESS FAWCES!!! Interesting whittle coeenkeedink that
it was ON BLOG NUMBER 45,
as in President-45,
that ALL GODDAMN HELLFIRE BROKE LOOSE
FOR ME, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hollywood
seems to have pulled that movie!
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW
THAT, YO!!!!
I
no longer am seeing the best revenge, as me sharing great secrets
online. The reason is first, in all honesty, who
really cares, or as our wonderful lovely president put it
back in the middle nineteen-eighties, a slightly more vulgarly spoken
quote, but the same message. Second, there is
no large audience of real down to Earth average ordinary people in my
Blogaud! I know that. I figured out back a few years ago, that
I have about 30-60 readers, or did back then. That was it, the blog
would not grow, so I'm just urinating against
the hurricane force winds for crissake! Third,
even if I had a thousand or more readers and a dozen steady followers
eventually, and I know that I do not, and I am not someone who
deludes himself into crap that is not real, but even if I had this;
they would all merely take it as entertainment,
and the wild rantings and ravings of a crazy
Jersey freaking crack pot. Again, I know fully well that I
am just wasting my time with this. It was Ed
Lynch who told me that someday, one or two or three
people, would make contact; and offer real world help, and believe
me, and take a chance that I am not totally mother ******* crazy; and
they would be powerful enough to at least assist me in some kind of
freaking meaningful way. This NEVER
HAPPENED. So much for all of my wonderful and quite
predictable rotten MOUNTAINPEN LUCK. Of course, we
all know that LUCK
has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with this. Luck
did not make Larry Lee of State Farm Insurance, treat me like trash,
and brush me off without explanation, or literally a million
other dirt bag people all of my entire mother *******
life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Luck has, and had, nothing
whatsoever to do with any of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But
I will put on the internet record for the fact checkers of all time,
somewhere down the dimly lit freaking hallway of time on this
diseased pitiful sin cursed planet, that certain truths told
by me, Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington
Mohr, ARE INDEED THE
TRUTH, THE WHOLE DAMN TRUTH,
AND NOTHING BUT THE DAMN-ASS TRUTH,
so help me SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE
KRASSLE, the Almighty NUCLATRON!
When
I attempted to post my blog up to the mother ******* BLOGGER DOT COM
website back yesterday afternoon, at the height and zenith of my
monstrous DEATH SIEGE ON ME BY THE MOTHER ******* ESS; I
was major hacked and stopped for about a quarter hour.
Eventually I was able to post up BLOG-45,
oh yes sir/mahm, 45. Gimme' a
turd chewing bwake here, Mizz Margie Leo,
YO!!!!
Let
me tell you all a teensy weensy whittle tad tid bit of information on
another fascinating item; how to apply the so-called
'impersonal tool', known by
human-kind, as “mathematics”;
to the real life truths around all of our
lives. You see, if any of you really wish to honestly try
and prove me, the (Mountainpen) wrong; you can simply do it by
trying the things that I tell about. None of you have the damn balls,
as we all know I am not wrong, but totally correct. People
never ever want to give me my goddamn props, they never did and they
never will!!!!! Even my so-called pal,
Mike Patterson, down in Hollywood, Florida; who insisted
President Trump would be long out of the White
House in one year or less; refuses to this very day, TO
CONCEDE THAT I TOLD HIM QUITE DIFFERENTLY. He
won't give me my props for damn
****, and then I wonder why
those that I do not even call a 'friend' won't ever do this? Well,
the ESS makes folks treat me like pure damn
****, even when I prove them wrong,
and me correct; OVER, AND OVER, AND OVER, AND OVER, AND
OVER, AND OVER, AND OVER AGAIN,
YO YO YO YO BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here
is one example that disproves
my 'other Cooley Hall teacher', Mister
David Leigh
Smith, totally and absolutely;
when he would tell me over and over in the years 1970 and 1971, that
“mathematics is completely impersonal”!
It is most certainly NOT. But no one
dares to apply real life situations to real laboratory-like equations
and experimental boxes and graphs. I can play one long Roulette game,
keeping track of numbers with a pencil and a tiny white notepad,
legal in any casino I've ever been to as long as it is not taken to a
cards-table. Then at home, I can get any group
of numbers that appear to be diverging off of their near-time average
for coming out, based on 38 numbers and thus in long running
play-time, every number comes out once
in 38 spins of the wheel, only it does
not. Instead, it comes out much
closer to 1,000 in 38,000 spins of the wheel. The ratio of
38:1 is still active and present, as nothing has changed. But
in longer times and more numbers being spun, the actual ratio becomes
more mathematically true. Conversely in shorter run play
times, things will diverge off of the ratios
by varying amounts. These amounts are not gargantuan, just enough to
make any player trying to win at the game, not
be able to do so, UNLESS
THEY KEEP DIVERGENCE CHARTS AT HOME.
If you pick the seven '5'-ending numbers, 5-10-15-20-25-30-35
for example, the ratio of these numbers is always going to be 38:7.
Doing a simple division of the ratio, and multiplying by 100, and
graphing the results; will then show a player
the actual divergence off of the true ratio in shorter play-times.
When it is at the bottom end of the graph,
these numbers should be played. Then a player can take an
interrelationship of many groupings of 7 digits, and
with a complex computer generated program, and a player
keeping an accurate record of all outcomes at the various tables that
they go to, they will always know when the
divergence of a grouping of numbers has bottomed out, and
is turning back towards their proper 38:7 ratios. Now don't do
this, and go into a casino bragging about what you're doing, or you
might end up drinking ocean water or spitting sand piles!!!
The real
experts
know,
that some things really do work against the house vigs. You
don't even have to do anything while playing other than quickly jot
down a number that pops out each time the wheel is spun, and the
marble lands in a slot. Gee, aren't we lucky
as damn hell today, WEEEEEEEE? But my
point is that I do not find this impersonal.
I was able to rent a really nice home in a very ritzy area, that
even President Reagan
was quoted as saying back then in 1986, as a “wealthy
municipality”. To me, this wasn't
impersonal, and it still is not. But there is so much
more. How about doing what Doctor Green and Doctor Corriell
talked about, over at the medical institute, back early in the
eighties? Let us say that we transfuse our
blood twice a week, with teenaged blood, slowly regenerating all of
the cells in our bodies backward in biological time. We
may indeed grow quite young again, and remain that way as we continue
doing this in some form of a retention dosage system,
once we get younger. Mathematics
proves however,
that this will only put off
the eventuality of our physical deaths. The
planet will indeed get rid of us. The
mathematical truth to this is totally and absolutely inescapable.
After 100, 200, 500, 800, 1500, 3000 years, the odds go up for all of
us, to be fatally struck by lightning,
swallowed up in another form of any number of natural disasters, as
well as the odds will endlessly go up for us to be involved in one
way or another in some fatal accident, or just
get murdered by an enemy. You cannot
ever mess with, or alter, the truths about odds and mathematical
realities no matter how hard you may try; kind folks. I don't
call these facts, Mister Smith of Cooley Hall,
“IMPERSONAL”, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!
In 5,000 freaking years, every day you get up, you
would have a 99% chance to die in some kind of 'something',
whatever it might be out there in the totally unimaginable future. No
amount of teenaged blood transfusions could ever alter these
irrefutable mathematical truths. As stated, I
do not see anything IMPERSONAL
about something like this. To me, mathematics
is ANYTHING BUT
IMPERSONAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
never finished telling my true story on the previous blog, about
Diana and the TENNIS GAME. When her mom Leda, handed Diana
this lovely loud brilliant colorful gorgeous COIL, she grabbed it,
and held it, and inhaled or something similar to an inhalation as we
may think of this in a mortal frame of mental reference. Suddenly
after a short interaction of this, POW, I
looked at the once brilliant colorful buzzing and humming and
clicking coil, and it was all charred and black and silent as Charles
Dickens Grave. Before this happened, I looked at Diana
who was in a human entity form for my benefit. She
was all woebegone and exhausted, looking as though she was going to
faint. But after she did this, she instantly came back to her
radiant incredible self. Her bright canary
yellow hair was more blinding than the sun in the summer skies here
on Earth. She was all raved up and ready to take on the
cosmos, and she did. She went back to the game, and
she kicked her opponent's ass from heredahelda. Actually, she
has never ever been beaten in her favorite game, and for eternity,
she has been challenged by opponents from as far away as a dozen
provinces in all six directions, from the great capitol province of
Olympia. The capitol city of this capitol province is where her
cousins reside, in the great Sahasra Dal
Kanwal, or Astrally, when properly translated, the CITY
of the great SARAH KRASSLE.
I call HER the Nuclatron. Her mother, Mariena
Carlittia Krassle, and her father Neptunejupiter
Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious Krassle, when I was 'dreaming'
it was 1996, came to my mind, while I laid in
bed at the Highview Apartments, tuned out of this reality, and
chased me away from their
great daughter. My life here
in waking reality ever since then, HAS BEEN OFF THE DIAL PURE
UNADULTERATED HELLFIRE
CUBED!!!!!!!!! By the way, the human English language
translation to Misses Krassle's second-name is Carlittia, but
Astrally, it is another name. I have blogs that have most likely used
both of these names, but they really are saying the very same thing.
Yes
folks, there were more than one or even two
wild teachers, at this very spurious and bizarre special education
school, up there in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG. Once I
began discussing this place after starting my blogs in early 2006,
the place suddenly after many many decades of operation, mysteriously
closed down forever, you know like the great health club of
wild mysterious
unknown powers and fawces, called
HADDONWOOD, in Deptford, New Jersey; just half a mile or so
down the road, Route 47, from the psychic shop called, “The
Gathering Place”, where I met Kathy, and other very strange people,
along with extremely strange other people, at this health club;
before it too, suddenly shut down out of the blue, in
August of 1996!!!!!!! But as
for my three “M” letter teachers, even though one
of them never was my teacher, I did speak to her and get to know her
somewhat, and she also was a hostess at the local diner up on Kings
Highway about a mile or so north of the special-ed school;
before she did her crazy camel song,
and became a big star. I knew her as Miss
Marie. But even the great 3-M
Scotch Tape Company people, must find it a wee bit weird
and wild, that I too had my 3-M teachers
at this place, Miss Marie, Misses
Marola, and the greatest star of them
all, Mister 'Mindblown Count' Marcucci!
People are way
too damn scared to ever come
forward, and recognize this powerful and inconceivable group, that
MORIANITY
calls, the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND
SOCIETY. Tell your daughter not to beat me up at the
Dairy Queen; great FAA Admiral Perry. Thank-UUUUUU!
Now
for what these diseased twisted perverted toilet germ ESS
BIG-BUSINESS-FACTION
did to me yesterday, FRIDAY:!!!!! Hey YO, I am
just quoting the great Camden County Prosecutor of New Jersey
Assistant, Mister Ron Wirtz Senior, told
me over and over again about WHO REALLY
is making my life a total nightmare hell,
covertly, and with unimaginable stealth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All day long
and it has been bad for a couple of weeks and it started worsening on
Thursday, as stated back then on prior blogging texts; I
would get ILLEGAL SPOOFING TELEPHONE CALLS. With Comcast, when
you have phone service as well as television service, through them;
everyone who calls on the system, if your television is on, the
information will display on the screen, as well as on your phone
screen caller-ID. But as many of you know without me telling you,
there is a new or relatively new technology out there, called,
'SPOOFING'. It is totally illegal, and they do it to me
anyway. On top of that, they get onto your personal account, totally
and absolutely illegally, and will spoof the
television screen when the phone is not even ringing. I
fully intend on Monday, to go to Sheriff Mascara's office
regarding this, as well as call COMCAST, to
complain, and tell them that I will report this to the
FCC, the FBI, and the FTC, if they cannot get this to stop. I have
rights as a paying customer to have this total ******* illegal
activity stopped. I was told by the police officer that came over
when I called 911 yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:45, that I
need to call them, and threaten to take my business to another
carrier. No one paying their bills on time
should have to be persecuted and annoyed and spoofed all day for days
at a time, while their dirt bag stock market is temporarily crashing.
It never really crashes, and it never will.
They don't care. They still use this nightmare *******
ICPE-APE-TECH to persecute me to death when it is dropping, (the Dow
Jones). They stopped me from using the charts
to prove a lot of bull**** that they do to me continually and
constantly. As you know, the chart no longer posts up or displays
anything other than a blank box. It is
OK for them to destroy my entire mother ******* life for 32+ years
now with this hellishness, but don't let me so much as post a word
about it or KAPOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I can post up lots of other stuff for the FBI and the FCC and
the FTC and the ACLU to look at and investigate; and
I'll be taking a printed copy of this page, next week, over to the
Midway Road Fort Pierce Office of Sheriff Ken J. Mascara, of Saint
Lucie County, Florida, and a copy to the local police
station and to Chief Diane.
These are a few of the persecuting caller spoof records of Thursday and Friday, the 11th and 12th days of October, 2018, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- Wireless caller 3:36 PM 10/12 (772-413-2409)
- Construction, MA 3:02 PM 10/12 (772-834-3675)
- Miami, FL 2:12 PM 10/12 (786-870-4585)
- Honeoye, NY 2:00 PM 10/12 (585-229-6280)
- UNAVLB 11:16 AM 10/12 (772- 212-9762)
- Private Unknown 10:37 AM 10/12 (612-540-3303)
- Private Unknown 10:01 AM 10/12 (612-540-3303)
- Lois Ehrhardt 7:16 PM 10/11 (772-398-8737)
- Burlington, KS 4:31 PM 10/11 (620-263-1883)
- VO1115011400016 3:00 PM 10/11 (772-212-9762)
- Port St Lucie, FL 1:48 PM 10/11 (772-345-2589)
- Miami, FL 12:31 PM 10/11 (786-870-4585
If
you want a whole freaking list of really nasty secrets, I mean, sure,
I could strike lots of targets, but why hurt
innocent freaking people? I told you all about the Generac
Generator Infomercial. I told you all about Cooley
Hall, and there is a ton times a trillion details, to all
tie together, proving that the ESS
is indeed not only behind my demise; but behind the existence of most
things containing power in this world today. Was
it always this way? Well, yes and no; and forgive the
flimsy answer here, pweeeeeeeeeeeeze kind folks. This is not an easy
thing to properly address. As Mark Mohr, I live from the moment that
I was born as Mark Mohr, until the moment that Mortimer Mortino taps
me on either my right shoulder, or my left shoulder. Just because I
remember my existence in the infinite purgatory, does not mean that I
can begin to discuss things on the Earth-Planet, where clearly, as
Mark Mohr, or the current persona of my true beingness here, I was
not in those other places. Before the fourth day of December
in the year 1954, I as Mark Mohr,
simply did not exist. But I existed as other dreamoff parts of my
true Astral-Self. Now as to why as Mark
Mohr, I have come to understand such a vast part of truths, well,
come on; don't we all get it by now? My mom had a
very wild coworker at her office job, that was in 1974
called, Lavino Shipping Company. Her name was Patricia
Hollister. I had all kinds
of tapes and photos, and many things; but
never even knew what I had. When the
King family
learned of a lot of things, they kidnapped me under what is called in
the psychiatric profession, “Stockholm
Syndrome”. Does this mean
that these physical people committed these real-world crimes in some
totally conscious real-world way? The answer is unequivocal folks. It
is a resounding NO. This is all on a powerful level that
only TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS can pull off;
those 'travelers' or 'no-homers'
of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY.
But we can get to all of this as October continues to flash by, as
October plays a very major part of all of this, with these horrible
peeps. As some of you know only too damn well, I
was 'INFLUENCED' to send three goddamn musical projects, to the
United States © Copyright Office, Library of Congress (LOC), in
Washington, 13-600, District of Columbia. One on Halloween
day in 1994, called “The Permission Barrier”. One on
Halloween Day in 2005 that
somehow got titled as “Same title” by those genius folks in the
great Non-OZ © Office. Then the final and third music project was
sent on Halloween Day in 2007,
and this was called, “Karaoke Lunch Break at
the Sorian-18 Guard House”. Remember how I told you all that
the © Office removed the '18'
number? This was done for reasons of “NATIONAL
SECURITY”. A lot of things since nine-eleven, have been
done for reasons of “National Security”. You see, the
18th
freaking question on the SORA test for New Jersey licensed security
officers, is a story that is quite powerful, and has to do
with my BLOGS and the ESS-HACKERS that continually screw with these
BLOGS OF THE MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It
had to do with the way that the word “RATIO”
was hacked into the word “RATION”,
and in the 18th
question on this SORA licensing test
for Jersey security officers, the word “RATIO”
was also hacked to the word “RATION”.
Things like my little codes, violate the
great national security interests of this great mother *******
empire, the great USA. WOW
THAT, PATTY! The national genius agency people who
protect us, or 'whatever', huh Congressman, worry that enemies of our
nation will take this amazing information,
and somehow turn all of this into a powerful control, in one form or
another; that will lead to the eventual
takeover of all of us. Well,
forgive me if I laugh a little bit here Mariah, but I do
not enjoy thinking about that horrible day in
your house in 1972, when you insisted that I come through that
hole in your yard fence, to see you try and do something that old Roy
Steps, didn't want you to do, in that lit up little closet. Then
Kabing, the great stair chase.
Maybe you do the same thing that I do, and overcome bad memories and
bad stuff, by laughing it off, such as that day where, well
I won't say it on the blog, at the jetty; and I
tried so hard not to laugh at poor bleeding Ziggy Malyeska!
WOW THIS!!!!
For
two days, these dirt bag toilet germ swallowers have used my
telephone and the UTILITY-ASSAULT, on me. Today
is the ABSOLUTE WORST YET. It was this bad one day
around the Christmas holidays
last year, if memory is correctly serving me; and I had to call 911.
Well Sheriff, look at your police records for
approximately a quarter shy of four this damn afternoon, kind sir! I
HAD TO CALL 911 AGAIN. A very nice police officer came out
to talk to me about my nightmare harassment and
persecution. In this new computerized world, the
criminals with the high-tech
computerized knowledge can get away with anything that
they want to. BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, I will tell
a huge secret about just this very thing, to get my
revenge for this hellish NIGHTMARE, AND SUPER
******* BOTBAR DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Either
it is COMCAST themselves,
under DIRECT ORDERS OF DIRTBALL P-45,
or it is just the powerful WALL STREET
SCUM using their ICPE-APE-TECH
on me, to try and stop their recent plunge on their
diseased crooked stock market, or it is all of the
damn HALLS-FAWCES, in general,
just 'doing their thing', to wipe out and destroy, one tiny and
pathetic senior citizen special-education person, who never did one
damn ass thing to ever deserve this horrendous monstrous evil
****!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*********************************
This
is all a total VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL LIBERTIES, and CONSTITUTIONAL
RIGHTS, under the laws of the UNITED
STATES OF AMERICA, that guarantee me
the right to PURSUE LIFE, LIBERTY, AND HAPPINESS. You
cannot pursue any of those three items when you are continually
bombarded with nightmarish monstrous hellish damn ******* bull****,
YO, Sheriff KJM sir.
I
intentionally did something to prove that these
diseased snot eaters would hack my WEATHERBUG APP again, and
they did. I can always get most of the same information from TWC on
the TV, and write it down; and then transpose it to the blog. But
when things are this bad, who gives a ******* ****? Oh yes
lads and lassies, I am forced to endure monsters straight out of the
gates of **** huffing HELL ITSELF,
and the first two of these sick diseased twat licking filth bags are
Paula and McGuire!
I
know that evil
PK is behind most of my miseries and woes.
But the problem is that few folks on this diseased ball of toilet
hurl, truly understand how this can all be going on. How
can this powerful person that Scott Ransom told me about very
indirectly, back in 1988,
when I got him talking, so that he would tell me some stuff in my
bugged-up car, that I later went on to make copies of, and even sent
one down to the United States © Copyright Office; be
behind so very much incredible and beyond unfathomable junk in my
pathetic diseased butt-licking life, for damn ass crissake????????
Well, SHE CAN,
and so can that rotten
puss sniffer McGuire!!!!!
MAGNESONIC,
G-7 OPEN COMMAND.
HEAR MY VOICE PRINT ON ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS.
WHOEVER IS PERSECUTING ME WITH MY TELEPHONE, WILL BE TOTALLY WIPED
OUT AND DESTROYED, ALONG WITH ALL WHOM THEY LOVE.
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
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO CG-18, UNDER G-189, G-13, AND STOP!
Some
mother
******* total puss chewing illegitimate dog child,
is going to be real damn ass sorry, when MAGNESONIC
strikes back HARD SUPER HYPER TIME,
for this major utility assault on me, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!
So
to get my retaliation, and my 'RR-CS' (Ronald Reagan Counter Strike),
I will ask how many peeps out here have
seen the infomercial on the
GENERAC
GENERATOR?
Let's further explore this for those who have, and well, for those
who haven't, just be on the lookout, or ask your friends, or Google
it,
or YouTube
it,
or 'whatever'. They say that now, EVERY
DAMN THING is up there on the YT!
It shows the aging power grid, and the hackers sitting on chairs, who
are hacking into things. Notice
something
please.
Why
are they all dressed up in major camouflage gear,
unless
THEY KNOW,
and a hacker would certainly know the truth; that we
all are being watched
through ANY AND ALL VIEW
SCREENS,
any time THEY want to watch ANY OF US!
I was not going to reveal this secret, until a major assault day,
such as this one. Well, here we are, or as the United States ©
Office knows me quite well for saying on one of my music projects,
“HERE
WE GO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Keep on laying the real heavy dog**** all over me, and I'll keep
right on telling tons and tons of mother ******* **** that you don't
want spewed out all over the **** licking internet,
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
But
if you really think that this is all I am going to do today for
totally wrecking my squat chewing last two days, THINK
AGAIN,
as they say on HGTV's
wonderful show,
“Beachfront
Bargain-hunt”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No folks, it is not 38 degrees,
but when they put that on the screen, they do me a favor, after-all,
it ain't mother ******* illegal to day-dream, huh Grace
Isabel Huntington, and MC????????????
WHAAAAAAAAAA!
The
ESS is not some made up fiction, nor is it the fantastic delusions of
a crazy person. Naturally, THEY,
the ESS, will keep doing whatever it takes to make people believe
that this
is just made up insane delusions
of a Jersey
crackpot.
They have absolute motive and reason for carrying out that whittle
mission, peeps, right? Tell
me I am wrong somebody, and convince me; and I will STOP
THESE BLOGS.
Put up a comment and say that this is not true, BUTTTTTTTT,
you need to then go
on and tell me why.
If you convince me, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO SHUT UP THE BIGGEST MOTOR
MONSTER MOUTH ON THE DAMN INTERNET, THE MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm
lyin', I'm dyin'!
The
EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY is as some know by now, quite a
group.
It explains all of the mysteries of everything, from Christ's death
and resurrection, aliens and UFO's and the whole scene there,
psychics and why things work for them sometimes and not others, why
the entire world goes the way it does, why times change, and weird
things happen that we all know just cannot be properly explained in
any rational way; and on and on and on we can go here, and you all
know it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why
do they do things like create the exceptional school that I went to.
Why do they do the things like having my teacher, Misses Marola,
insisting that I perform in that Memorial Day of 1969 school play;
and zillions of other similar items, that while happening; seem
totally innocent enough, but when looking back in hindsight, we
all know that SOMETHING IS INDEED GOING ON BEHIND THESE MIGHTY
POWERFUL OZ-CURTAINS, YO!!!!!!!!
Well, there are powerful secret things, and many of them, I have
indeed come to know and understand quite well; such as the “Farm
outside of Haddonfield, New Jersey”
or the (Robin
Hill Apartment Complex)
as it truly came to be in the future decade. There are items that do
not ever seem to be of any consequence, while others both large and
small, that definitely are. Everything
is all part of something that we can think of as a late night
Astral-Plane game show.
The reason that humans enjoy games, is because it is inside of our
very beingness, our
damn DNA for crissake.
This code is not a human thing that's all isolated by itself. The
nuclear world eventually creates the element called CARBON, leading
to us human beings.
However, it is not some random deal, even though it appears to be, in
life's
incredible illusion.
In
the great awesome Purgatory, we exist, we don't live as in order to
live, we need a time dimension and a space dimension.
Now
Jesus speaks of drinking wine in lovely mansions in 'Heaven' with His
Father.
This is more real than anything here while we are 'awake and alive'.
Here physically, we
first need time and space, so that our interactions can all be
created in tandem with this commingled reality.
On the Astral-Plane
(Purgatory),
the interactions are what is truly real, and the
space and time that appears to be a part of them are pure illusion,
although, when interacting; it
seems more real and alive than a thousand of our lives physically
here and awake.
In this incredible existence, we have incredible 'lives' as our truer
larger beingness or entity persona. But
with all of that, there is the horror that is inescapable, and that
is the endlessness of it all.
Nothing can begin or end, in a timeless existence. No interaction is
ever happening, before or ahead, of any other one either. To
compensate for endlessness, the
Coils and the Coins, (Astral-Gods)
have figured out that games
are the only way to distract
ourselves
from the nightmare
of endlessness.
These same games there, carry down into the nuclear universe that the
'Purgatites' create through a sort of program. We perceive this as
the nuclear
mechanics, of how things go from singularity, out to the Plank-Time
level, and then big bang out into the nuke worlds, where
star-nursery systems form by way of nuke-rules.
From there, as stated, eventually along comes CARBON,
and then a while down the line from there, along
comes the clay beings where the Purgatites can dream out and away,
through and into, us.
WE
are really THEM.
Still, it is about a million to the millionth power times more
complex than this silly whittle blog could ever even hope to
accurately begin discussing here. The ESS
are the GODS,
or the COINS
and the COILS.
Coins
and Coils are a totally different species than the Astral-Entity
human entity Dream-Downs or 'dreamoffs'.
The 'AAT-VAN DANIKEN Society', believe things slightly similarly to
what Morianity teaches; but they are
unable to make the still needed leap
into seeing some of these powerful truths. The
reason that 'they' don't want to entertain my Morianity, is no
different at all, from those who oppose and refute the teachings of
the AAT and the UFO-Aliens deal.
The
ESS does not want everyone to know about certain truths. Truths
are what eventually liberate people on the Earth-Planet
from this cosmic or better called, Astral-Game of the Coils and
Coins.
Unlike the teachings and mythological writings of ancient Greeks and
others, regarding how these gods and goddesses eat their children and
devour them up, such as the great god named Zeus,
who by the way is the
grandfather of Diana Z. Arteemis;
as I remember my existence in Purgatory, and I
can promise you that they don't eat and swallow up anything.
However, they do try to rob each other of energy and power. I am
pretty sure that I told how I was with Diana and her mom, in
Purgatory, and she was playing a tennis game at her family courts in
Olympia Proper, and in the middle of the game during a break, she
came inside this beyond lovely huge dining room area where Goddess
Leda and I were seated at this beyond gargantuan sized banquet type
of table, and Diana sat down. Diana plays regular tennis games and
she is the greatest tennis player; not
only in the area proper,
but the entire
Province Olympia,
which if measured in a human perception in mileage, would be about
twelve percent the size of our great Milky Way Galaxy,
here on the mortal world, or physical-plane of awake existence, and
life as we know it as human beings. As far away as a dozen provinces
totally surrounding us in all six directions of north, south, woust,
east, west, and nest; she is considered unbeatable, and the absolute
greatest tennis player.
We on the Earth-Planet were shown a similar version of the
Astral-Plane (Purgatory) game, several centuries back in Europe, and
this is where our tennis sport came from. But
all sports come from the Purgatory, as a way to distract our
attention away from the miseries of endlessness.
But back to my point on Coils
and Coins.
These entities do not eat each other, or anyone else for that matter.
But
they do steal energy from other similar entities.
If they need to replenish energy after so much interaction depletes
them to a level where they feel this need, they come up to a smaller
and unsuspecting entity and grab it, and then as I believe I told
this story before, here is what I witnessed in Purgatory, when Diana
needed to replenish herself for the second half of the tennis game
that she was playing. Leda,
her mom was holding a small coil that was beautiful and colorful.
It
was bright and filled with illuminated color beyond anything ever
seen on the Earth-Planet by any of us, thirty times over or more.
A loud buzzing and humming and clicking sound is heard by these Gods
and Goddesses in their true form, the Coins and the Coils.
Diana
is a giant lovely COIL. She is 33 feet high,
and if she were to be anywhere around any of us; we, and up to a
thousand miles around us, would immediately
liquidate and evaporate into invisible mist.
She
is beyond powerful, and yes, beyond beautiful. But coils and coins
take human forms in Purgatory, so that they can interact with the
majority of Purgatites.
About 85% of entities are non-Gods and non-Goddesses. 15% or so, are
what loses energy after enough interaction, and then dream down into
a perfectly timed nuke-program of carbon clay beings, and
we become alive and we animate the otherwise lifeless clay bodies.
Now am I claiming that all of the gods and goddesses of the
Purgatory, are what makes up this EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY?
When they eventually dreamoff of the Astral-Plane (Purgatory);
do they travel
around
and do
all these things?
Let me just say this. I am a mortal, and if
I were a COIN/COIL, I would know this for sure.
Do
I believe this to the very best of my knowledge,
to be a 100% true fact, you may be asking the Mountainpen? Well, I am
not getting married, but let me answer you all anyway, with this: “I
DO”!!!
But what is the really big secret here? Well, I have been in love
with the Lightning
Goddess Diana for all eternity.
She and I will always be together, and She knows this, as do I. But
people in her great GODS-FAMILY, have
dreamed down here as the ESS,
and have done a lot of things to me, because I dare to love her so
much. Now her parents have given me their blessing; Zeus and Leda.
BUTTTTTTTT,
there are cousins, the great KRASSLE
BRANCH
of the ARTEEMIS
clan,
who do not mean me a whole damn ass lot of good.
Do I believe that all of the injustices done to me, and that keep
being done to me; are some organized plot by the KRASSLE'S?
You
bet I do.
Also, I know for a fact that Mister
and Misses Krassle, Neptunejupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious
Krassle and his wife Mariena Palamalay Krassle;
hate
my damn guts with an Italian passion.
Are the Atlantic City people, and those from my school, and those all
around me all of my life, nabes, coworkers, people stopping me from
doing every damn ******* thing that I have ever tried to do in this
human damn ass life; all
part of this organized scum against me,
the ESS, the whole damn nine ugly yards, and 27 ugly feet, the entire
324 inches???? YOU
CAN TAKE IT TO THE
DAMN BANK
THAT I BELIEVE ALL OF THIS HORRIBLE ****, my kind folks!
If I were to even try going further right now today on this blog,
into major details that would show
patterns of this hell on and against me, from the ESS, all of my
entire freaking human life,
I would begin a project outline that I'd not be able to finish for
months, and they
would find me here typing away, dead from not drinking a drop of
liquid for 75 hours,
the human death maximum average, if memory correctly serves me here
lads and lassies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
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