ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-BB

12:25 ANTE' MERIDIAN

THURSDAY MORNING

13 JUNE, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

[ 13 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Saga of song writer Mark Mud.

PAu000501582

1983

[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part 3.	PAu001189027	1989

MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:

Computer, hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and utterly wiping out, my enemy neighbors in UNIT #605, and UNIT #707, who are viciously persecuting me with NOISE, and BRINGING ME ENDLESS COLONIES OF COCKROACHES. You will be using your MAXIMUM POWER on a crush-destruct order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD!!!!!!!!

Your old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone is colored RED. The low-tone is colored BLUE.

Computer (Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B) after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).

Computer, 'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

GO TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

To access texts from 2006-2011, use links:

Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, kind sir; I FELL UNDER A BEYOND INCONCEIVABLE MAJOR FULL BLOWN THERMONUCLEAR TRIAD NABE ATTACK YESTERDAY, WEDNESDAY! FIRST, IT WAS FROM UNIT #605 NEXT DOOR TO ME WITH LOUD AND EVIL SICKO SLAMMING DOORS, THAT BEGAN AROUND A QUARTER PAST NINE IN THE MORNING, & THEN AT A QUARTER PAST FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON, A MAJOR TWO HOUR MONSTER ASS ASSAULT ON ME WAS DONE BY MY DISEASED PUKE EATING NABES ABOVE ME IN UNIT #707, TWO SOLID FUCKING HOURS OF STOMPING AND HAMMERING RIGHT OVER MY HEAD, FOR ABSOLUTELY NO LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. I NEVER EVER HAD IT THIS BAD IN MY EIGHT PLUS FUCKING YEARS NOW LIVING AT THIS NIGHTMARE ADDRESS HERE, AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA'S PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY BUILDING, CALLED THE PARK TERRACE, ON AVENUE B AT NUMBER 601, AS IN 601 CITIZENS BAND RADIO HANDLER AND RECORD PROMOTER FROM THE EARLY EIGHTIES, MISTER LENNY MCKINNON! It is because of this horrendous monstrous death siege, that I now tell all that I am going to tell on this mother fucking blog, sir SHERIFF, 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 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 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 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 let's get down to mother fucking cases, and leave no holds barred, and no punches pulled. This will now take us into the realm of opening up some really wild areas of the REAL LIFE TWILIGHT ZONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You may call this my quintessential counterstrike for making yesterday an off the fucking scale nightmare SUPER BOTBAR ASSAULT DAY with unfathomable ELDER ABUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First off, Jim Burr and Patricia Hollister were the two tools and instruments used by HALLS FAWCES as well as the MILITUFORCE, to carry out this outlandish shit on me for more than four decades now, but others were also involved such as Zvonko the mysterious inventor friend of Jim Burr, as well as the Atlantic City beach alchemist friend of Patty H. I do not claim that any of these four 'people' or whatever they may truly be in my waking world physical dimension, are the only players, 'BUTTERCHEESE', BUTT, THEY ARE INDEED THE KEY PLAYERS, BRAND NEW ONCE, AND NOW QUITE OLD. Beginning with one of these four, the lovely Patty H, who had the physical strength of a goddamn fully grown bull on steroids, lifting four-hundred pound couches single handed, taking them from my apartment at Dellway Arms in Oaklyn, New Jersey, out to Santa Claus's moving truck, when not being otherwise engaged far up north even beyond lovely Canada, in the service of children everywhere; Alligator Haters Anonymous-Alligator Haters Anonymous-Alligator Haters Anonymous- Alligator Haters Anonymous, or (AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA), I plan to tell some very interesting things that I am starting to remember better after blocking so much for so long, huh Mister David Leigh All Hallows Eve School Projects Smith, from the illustrious and powerful non-OZ COOLVOICEARL COOLEY HALLucinogenic HALL HIGH HELL, OH LOVELY MICROSOFT SPELLCHECKER PROGRAM, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dave Smith, the great of many mysterious Cooley-Hall educators that I now believe are all a part of a super secretive and stealthy group chapter, known as by Morianity, the Educational Department of the ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society), sent me on a wild project to the Haddonfield Library a short walk across a wooded park from the school, to do a project on the origins of Halloween. I know that I have blogged this somewhere in the first one or two or three years of my original Morianity blog works, telling a little bit of how he wanted me to go there with another student, and research this, and that student came to work in the nineteen eighties, at the very same licorice plant in Camden, New Jersey, that many of these wild and super powerful fucking things all went down, including the uncontrollable crying fits, outside the Mafco door, near the employee parking area, at the Jefferson Street plant called, Mac Andrews & Forbes!!!! I saw him working there when I went back there working under Sergeant King of Winslow Township, oh lovely long dark haired Mizz Marie Ciancio. Oh yes, he was so right, I should have mother fucking “furthered my education”, and I know that only too well, great wonderful Saint Lucie County Florida DPA Sheriff KJM, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, good old 'Dream-on Doctor' John Gillerlain! Yes, dream on, Aunt Geraldine I'm Impressed Snow Mason, from 1971, and educator DSL! Yes, you only came to fucking totally prove my point of just how wrong you were about mathematics being so cunt lapping impersonal, oh great wise soul, Mister Smith!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This entire thing fits 100% perfectly into a pure and precise pattern and rhythm of mathematics!

So Patty and Santa came over to my apartment at O-15 Dellway Arms, Oakland Avenue, Oaklyn, New Jersey, DPA, 08107, on the 1^st day of March in the year of our Lord, 1975, and moved my mom and me to the Lindenwold apartment address of 1118 Linden Hill Apartments. But this is only when things began getting 'beyond geuoood', to quote my old ex girlfriend from 1999, Mizz lovely Helen Zebriski, yo!!!!!!!!!! WO, Sheriff. As I told Mizz 2003 Eckert in Berlin, New Jersey, “Don't get me going”. Believe me everybody, you'd be very mother fucking sorry to do that, and the lady at that pharmacy knew that back then, and even said to me, Sheriff sir, “Don't worry Mark, I won't”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE WONDERFUL OPRAH WINFREY or WOW for short!!!!!! Now the next question that any half witted fucking logical human being is asking as they scratch their heads right about now and reads al of this bullshit on this fucking ass wiping blog, is, “So what does that have to do with the price of Law and Order pickles in Park slope, New York????????? So WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW, allow me to further enlighten you all, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had two powerful strobe-light dreams, one where I was up at my daughter's house when she was a toddler, and the other was around the same time, or about a year or so earlier, while losing consciousness at my Cifaloglio job for a few moments, and suddenly the moon woke me up as she was shinning right in front of me through the windshield of my car, but just before she came to that position and woke me up, I was at my old apartment of 1118 Linden Hill, a two maintenance men were charging up the stairs to the second level, as there were four units on a lower level and four units on an upper level, and my unit of 1118 was on the upper level, on the right side and in the front closest to the stairs before the landing that led to the rear two apartments, one being the dude who just happen top work at my mom's office out of all of the fucking gin joints, huh Mister McCoy, and that dirt bag Mister Ron Owens who threatened me for talking back to his wife after she gave me holy hell for spilling a tiny bit of laundry detergent in the laundry area one day. Now there was the strobelight-toy that Mariah was playing with in her Suffolk County house that was down the block from my third and fourth cousins house, who had me walk their dog that day of the road trip, in the holiday season of 1972, just before Christmas, while mom and I went up to visit her cousin in law Mister Heinz-57-no sticks Gozzwald-Gottwald, and his wife, my mom's mom's sister, or cousin, or some such relation, who can remember so many mother fucking facts, I speak of my grandmother who died while I was but a child of nine years of age, Mizz Grace Isabel Huntington, and the other lady was Mizz Ruth Huntington, and she married her sweetheart from NYC where she met him while she was employed at the large NYC Library, I think they call it the Stacks today but I am not sure, and they married, and he became the Senior vice President of the worlds second largest bank at the time, the great and powerful CHEMICAL NATIONAL BANK OF WALL STREET, WOW-WOW-WOW, oh lovely wonderful Oprah?! But the strobelight bullshit goes like this, regarding the two powerful dreaming interactions. First there was the one while I was at Cifaloglio, and the maintenance men were running up the apartment stairwell holding weird strobing flashlights that were jerking wildly all around as they were running up the stairs, and then the moon woke me, and the light in the dream became the moon in my face, just as my dad's razor was something in my Pyle Avenue dream that afternoon while I was napping, and then I awoke to him shaving in the bathroom. Then came the year later experience, after coming back to Judge Frank Raso's rental home, at 65 Middle Road, in Berryville-Hammonton Hanging in there Paula WAYV King forest fires, and Mariah was in a small brilliantly lit up closet with some flashing toy that appeared like a strobing light, that was annoying her step father to death, and he blew up and everybody began chasing each other up a staircase in the home, leaving me to make a fast and strategic exit, back to my fourth cuzz, Christopher Myers, and his brother, who was also my fourth cuzz, Scott Myers. Now as Joseph and Daniel and many hyperspace travelers who have been given the ability to crack the codes of properly deciphering the mysterious of hyperspace and its effects and equations that lead to life here where our physical bodies appear to be living in some material plane of existence, I too know and understand that this same strobelight dream in both of these experiences, is because of the connections to both of these locations, a house up on Long Island, as well as an apartment in Lindenwold, New Jersey. Also remember, that a wild interaction also happened in 1975 while I was actually living at 1118 Linden Hill Apartments, where a newspaper boy was also charging up that same apartment staircase, and yes, the stair chase in the Long Island house, so we have the running up of stairs, and we have the strobelight that the two maintenance men had in their hands as well as the toy that little Mariah was playing with that day. Then there is also the reality that ever since the mighty knowitall Mizz Hollister moved me from Oaklyn to Lindenwold, the NABE-PROBLEMS took a life of their own, grew roots powered by steroid fertilizer, and grew into inconceivable monstrous mother fucking proportions, as after I left Oaklyn, despite having troubles with the pigs above me, Mister Bob Backer as well as the next door scumbag Ann and her dirt bag hippie hubby, who stole my parking lot area and harassed my mom and I consistently, and even gave my Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason a huge shove one day almost injuring him severely as if he had fallen completely back onto the sidewalk or driveway parking lot concrete, he could have even died, and then I would have had that mother fucking bastard for murder, but yes, bad as all of this shit was, Mizz Theresa Pennock, who told me not to mail that CURSE-LETTER to them, my real monster ass fucking hassles with evil demonic cunt lapping nabes began at the Lindenwold address, and to this very day and fucking hour, kind Sheriff Mascara sir, has never ever even tried to look back, yo!!!! People continue to say directly as well as indirectly through shit I see on television that I know is meant for me to hear, that I am stuck in a time warp and I need to get over shit and move on. Total mother fucking imbecilic morons!!!!!!!!!!!! I'd be glad too if the HALLS FAWCES as well as the goddamn MOTHER FUCKING MILITUFORCE would allow me to ever fucking cunt eating do that, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!! To this very day and hour, as per the assault on me yesterday with both of my cunt lapping NABES FROM HELL ON STEROIDS, they go right on persecuting and harassing me to my grave, day and night, forever and ever, and I am not stuck in any fucking cock sucking time warp, as what I am going through is 100% CURRENT, & not some past shit or collection of memories and delusions. This fucking shit never ever goes away, and nobody on this mother fucking asshole EARTH-PLANET would be happier than me, if this fucking horrendous bullshit would somehow be made to stop and I could be allowed the splendor of living the rest of my tiny pathetic fucking frail little goddamn life, in normalcy and peace. But I am a realist, and I know what I know, YO!!!!!!!!!! As I speak-type at 2:01 this mother fucking totally diseased MOUUUUUUUUURNING, Mortimer Mortino the Angel of Death, is passing by my mother fuckign right side, annoying the shit eating hell out me, SHERIFF sir, and of course I know fully well that you have no control over this monstrous android from DOGTOWN, OLYMPIA, PURGATORY, AKA HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ONLY MOTHER FUCKING GAMES can explain why an innocent fucking person such as myself IS CHOSEN by these FAWCES, for absolutely no apparent reason, and made to suffer through an entire LIFETIME of endless horrendous dogshit on goddamn steroids!!!!

Let us just take a few things, despite Almighty Knowitall Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, Divided Parties of America, ESMWG, Mizz Terry Scatterbrain Egghead, and examine them in light and in lieu of what I have said so far on this blog from total fucking cunt eating DOGTOWN (HELL)!!!!!!! The very same FAWCES that got those RPL fucking OVERAGE FILE RECORD ALBUMS to end up at the end of October in the year 1980, in my living room apartment, at 1802 Robin Hill, in Voorhees, NJDPAESMWG, ARE THE VERY EXACT SAME FAWCES, Mister Hall sir, that are causing my NABES FROM HELL to this very day and hour, forty years fucking cunt later up here in the future from back there, to persecute and harass me to death, as they JUST DID A FEW HOURS AGO, back on Wednesday, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, and so no peeps, I AM MOST DEFINITELY NAUT STUCK IN A TIME WARP OF MY OWN MAKING, BUTTTTTTTTTTT, BIG ASS BUTTERCHEESE BUTT YO, I AM STUCK IN ONE, BUT IT IS THIS FUCKING MILITUFORCE SHITUATION THAT IS CAUSING ALL OF THIS NIGHTMARE THAT SURROUNDS ME; OH KIND SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Any mother fucking moron out here who can honestly believe that the story I have told regarding that large pile of albums that I was given from an overage file, by the RPL Studio Printer, Mister Mike Walters, is all some silly groupation of coincidences, is so absolutely stupid, that I am not going to fucking raise my blood pressure one point, attempting to make them see the light, BRO! A tiny child knows that my MORIANITY is all totally fucking real and true, me' BRAHHHH!!

Now the new age Christipublicans see things in their own way, and even the older yesterday bunch refuse to ever even try and crawl into my nightmare, or help me in any way with my 'spiritual-problems', as to them, I am some hopeless reprobate slob backslidden phony Christian, headed for hell, and is all totally and completely messed up with the occult. If things were only that mother fucking simple, boy oh boy oh boy, and thrill and joy; Mister High School Musical Crichton, YO. Their concept of Satan is a real physical being with a tail and horns and carrying a mother fucking pitchfork, who is after the souls of people on this Earth-Planet. What a total fucking laugh. The basic truths are not wavering here of course, and yes, the south polarities can never ever join with the north ones, and if 'God' and 'Satan' were to ever touch, the entire metaverse would completely cease to exist. Translation, God cannot look at evil. Ok, so WEIN, yo? This is all last year's fucking newspaper, hot off the press from a million years ago. None of these fucking pricks can ever answer any of my unique and bizarre problems, and they never could. The reason is because they are all so full of fucking shit, they stink like a cunt eating aging Christmas goose. Their stuff just doesn't reflect any rational answer for me and for the shit in my life, and only MORIANITY will. Only MORIANITY will and does, as it talks about the Exploratronic Supermind Society, it talks about the Astral Plane and their powerful dangerous Millionth Council, that even the Lord Jesus Christ discussed with his disciples, calling it simply, the council, but that is what was being discussed between them and him, when he told them to never call your brother a fool. If you don't want to believe me, well fucking fine, but read it for yourselves any time you may wish, in the four gospels, as it is in one of them somewhere, and I would recommend using the King James Version KJV of the Bible, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, Morianity also talks about other things from the Bible, interestingly enough, as the Apostle Paul rants on and on in the following books and letters that he wrote to the churches all around his area, regarding the “Great Goddess Diana”. I don't fucking make this shit up peeps, it is all in there just read it for yourselves before you call me a mother fucking lunatic lying whackadoodle, yo!!!!!!!!! Only Morianity discusses the great Patricia Hollister, and her wild and inconceivable tool from the other side of the world of death itself (ASTRAL-PLANE), the FASCITAR!!!!!!!!! Need I really trudge on and on any further with all of this, folks????????????????

I told somewhere on my first two years of these original Blogger dot com blogs, back in 2006 or 2007, all about my going into a super powerful trance and reliving my experience from the fist week of June of 1980 at the Robin Hill Apartments, while asleep and hearing Goddess PAULA KING singing that incredible song to me from her radio station and parking lot area of Atlantic City, near the boardwalk and Tennessee Avenue, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”. When I did manage to do this one night at my Cifaloglio job, I came back with a bang, and immediately wrote down the full lyrics and yes, now the Copyright Office has the entire song in its fullness, that I could not pull back humanly when I was in the year 1980. I plan to take 'another trip' like that one soon, and I plan to revisit several things from my past, to get some clearer vision and answers to a lot of this mother fuckign diseased hellish nightmare dogshit, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I plan to relive many conversations with her, mostly over the telephone, that I fully know the FBI still has to this very day as my mom was being watched in those days and our phone was indeed bugged, and this was not some paranoid delusion on her part, and I know this because of that FISA visit to my trailer that time while I was in Pennsylvania working at my Roadway job, and they came in AND ILLEGALLY BROKE ALL OF MY ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT that I was using for my then, ELECTRONIC-METAPHYSICS. They did $1,000 of damage to my personal property, and no FISAC WARRANT gives them to right to damage my shit, BUT THEY FUCKING DID, SHERIFF SIR, AND I KNOW IT YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I also plan to not only revisit lovely Patty, but I want to find out what lovely little Merry was being punished for that kept her from going out that Halloween. Even rambunctious Merry couldn't have done anything that terribly awful, or could she, and maybe she really does have some special wild strobelight that isn't a toy, but really can make a lot of this shit all go down all these decades, and as I said on my © taped musical projects many times, and one particular time with my really cool breath echos, “Who can really ever know”?????????????? Still, that ain't all I am going to fucking be revisiting, as I wish to go back onto that beach, and talk to her friend, the great vanishing in the mist Atlantic City Alchemist. He is the one that somehow 'planted in my DOORS-BRAIN', that information that is called by 'THEM', “THE LAW OF 1”. This was done through and by way of Tellosion Technology, AKA mental telepathy and mind-control-osmosis, and I am living fucking proof that all of this shit is beyond real, but there really and truly is so very goddamn much more, lovely lads and lassies out here, and Labrador Retrievers, lab techs, and lap togs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Without going back to the beach in 1974, I can almost pull up a part of that wild conversation, where that friend of PH, the AC Alchemist, told me something about my family and my future life, and it was so horrible, I pulled a strong girl Venka act as well as a day up on the island in '72 act, and forced myself to forever forget it, that is, ALMOST FORGET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So Mister McNulty sir, you take it from here, with your famous Alligator Haters Anonymous club saying, YO, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!

Now there are those who are trying to learn THE FORMULA. This is sometimes whispered in the shadows and called, the 'LAW OF EVERYTHING'. Technically, the LAW OF 1, is the fucking LAW OF EVERYTHING, since everything in truth is ONE. The man who comes around 'on some weird kind of a mission', to this building every so often, told me that Morianity when used by some of those studying it in his secret group, and properly applied to a mathematical formula, does indeed approach and maybe even realize totally, this 'LOE'. According to him, “Morianity indeed does prove indubitably that this law exists”. When I asked him for details, he said what he has spoken to me upon past occasions also, “We'll get into it later, after the group completes its full study and relates it to a few more parts to this formula”. But he did add that “What I call HALLS FAWCES as well as the MILITUFORCE, have a huge fear and aversion to this ever being recognized and published, into the scientific community. He went on once to tell me that, “What Morianity refers to as THE ASTRAL GAME OF THE GODS, as well as the mortal world game-time, is indeed what I have referred to and named right along since way before these Mountainpen Blogs ever began, and that being an EVENTAL-TIME-WARP, is all rapped up into the mortal world game-time, and indeed is all a part of why these forces did many of these things to me, which in no way excludes my writing these blogs called MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3 and numerous other similar things”. Of course, adding in the physical structure is fifth dimensional and not only fourth, adds things so huge into the mix, that even the future 'qbit' computers would be completely inadequate to tackle such virtually infinite possibilities. I am getting another right side passing of Mortimer Mortino the ANGEL OF DEATH, at 3:19 on this Thursday morning, June 13, 2019. Adding in before being interrupted by dirt bag Morty, he also in practically the same breath, turned the conversation that lasted all of maybe three minutes, into the day that I tried to get my SARAH-SONG recorded, and drove first into Hammonton and later into Turnersville, while living at the Highview Apartments in Will-I-Am-St-Own, (I AM, I WILL, STACEY OWN), in New Jersey, on the 2^nd day of August, in the year of 1996. This was major when I was literally stopped from being able to leave where I had parked with my mother that day, in Hammonton, by some weird Spanish young women, who obviously were also in direct contact with the dirt bag huge man who later terrorized my mother and I at the Pathmark Grocery Store, in Turnersville, some dude in a bright lime green truck who told my mother, and I quote, “I'm going to kill your son, and I'll kill you too if you don't get away from my truck”. He said that to my mother after he had been following us for the entire trip and we parked, and my car suddenly went dead, a brand new mother fuckin g Saturn Automobile with less than ten thousand miles on it. Naturally we reported this incident to both the County Prosecutor as well as the Police of the township there, and of course, we got absolutely nowhere and were made to feel like the criminals, after we had been threatened and terrorized by this evil fucking Atlantic City enemy prick and friend of PAULA KING. He told me that he absolutely believes in the possibility that via exploratronics, Patty as well as Paula, indeed can be the same hyperdimensional traveling spirit who reams here in this world through both of these women, taking control over them whenever it suits this entity (TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON being). It's truly fucking music to my ears to hear s few peeps once in a cunt lapping blue moon, who don't just scoff and laugh me off about all of this unfathomable horrific dogshit. (I AM, I WILL, STACEY OWN) AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!! He tied together a major idea with that evil dude in the truck terrorist, the son SARAH that I had written a couple of months or so earlier, back on the 12^th day of fucking May, in 1996, with my mother's Cuzz's wife, the wife of Herbert Huntington's son, Arthur, whose name was Alice Gallagher, the chain that was stolen from me by SARAH, the chain incident when I was with my pal Brad in 1969 with that huge man from 27 years earlier, and Robert McGuire of Atlantic City, the other terrorist who was able to hurt my car and threaten Ed Lynch abnd myself that day on his street (10-SC Avenue), without Eddie or I ever even seeing him right there, but the camera that we had running as we were taking photos for the Morianity-Foundation Website, did indeed capture that horrible monster that was standing there with a clenched fist right in Eddie's face, at our car that was legally parked on 10-SC Avenue, and we were perfectly legal tourists taking photos of the street, all neat, clean, and legal, and yes, here comes the goddamn ANGEL OF DEATH AGAIN, and this time he is passing by on my left side, at 3:35 this morning, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back on pernt here, Mister Archie Bunker from Queens; he said that the same equation that ties my story of this monster ass hell all together, is also holding up in its larger use of explaining the LAW OF EVERYTHING. I just thought I'd release this morsel tidbit of info on this blog since I am being persecuted to my fucking elderly and pathetic grave, Sheriff, kind sir!!!

The man who I was labeling as NG-ADS, and who is definitely not who I thought that he might be; also told me that day, how when I was at the location in 1986, with David Charles Roth, called “SUBS AND SWIRLS”, and saw large round aerial vessels above us that killed the power in our cars, and then flew away, came back, and made them operate again as if by pure fucking magic, that this is no way any military craft that exists on this planet under our control, and THAT THESE WERE INDEED GENUINE UFO CRAFTS, and if they were fucking with us, and THEY WERE, then we can forget about EVER having a normal life here on this EARTH-PLANET ever ever mother fucking again. He reminded me that I had said how during this same period, Dave and I were continuously seeing bright green orbs falling all around us whenever we would go out anywhere after dark during this time circa, and he also added, “I think it was a lot more than just the Medport Diner and local police in that area, that were continually screwing with us and hurting both us and our lives in numerous inconceivable ways, and it all started after my wild hyperspace trip from my bed in CHERRY HILL that night on AUGUST 15, 1986, and life has never ever recovered since that awful fucking dogshit all went cunt chewing downtrodden and DOWN, sir MICROSOFT SPELLCHECKER, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!

And no, the Huntington Curse did not begin by any fucking means, in the late nineteen-forties, up in Braintree, Massachusetts, DPAESMWG. BUTTERCHEESE-BIG ASS BUTT, a gigantic amount of that curse's energy was suddenly exploded one evening at the Huntington home. Arthur suddenly got it into his head to murder his wife and his mother in law, and then he went into the basement and he hung himself, after taking a hatchet to his wife and in law mom in their sleep in their fucking beds, one of the most brutal double murder-suicide family annihilator events that ever happened in America, and is not easy to learn the true facts about, as this is a founding fathers family, and their reputation as such, needs protection, and they hate my Morianity, I suppose. But folks, the dark spotty hidden truths here are way bigger than just the brutal act itself that went down about seven decades ago. All of this connects the white slavery ring of Atlantic City, headed up by Robert McGuire and his evil henchmen, and I fully believe that Thomas J. Reale was not only also in on this horrible monstrous mess, but that if I had not followed the great Cooley-Hall advice of my shrink, Jim Garrigan, back in July of 1970, when he told me, “Mark, get the HELL out of there”, after I told him that he was molesting me at his home on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, the town just to the south of Atlantic City, I would not be here now blogging, but rather, at the bottom of some great big building somewhere that was being constructed in the early seventies, and where a lot of people who vanish forever, ARE INDEED BURRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-AA

10:45 ANTE' MERIDIAN

TUESDAY MORNING

BOTBAR NUMBER-11 JUNE, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

My next door assholes starting banging doors and hollering in the hallways, AGAIN, and it started around half past ten this goddamn morning, and their ILLEGAL DIRT BAG GUEST IS BACK, so naturally this is why it is happening. Some mother fucking jerk offs in this world really honestly believe that they own everything and that all the rest of us are just window fucking dressing that was created for their mother fucking amusement, Sheriff Ken Mascara, sir!!!!!!!!!!

Live Camera from a random camera within the United States

[ 13 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Saga of song writer Mark Mud.

PAu000501582

1983

[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part 3.	PAu001189027	1989

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All my life, horrible fucking neighbors are around me because I have been forced to be so dirt poor and needing to live in total fucking shit holes. It all stands to reason, and on the surface, no sinister plot from some nameless source appears to be behind some fucking OZ curtain, directing evil negative traffic around me on a continual non ending basis. BUTTERCHEESE, and BIG ASS BUTT FOLKS, a skilled sufferer such as myself, one who has lived through this evil fucking demonic shit for numerous decades, does in fact either wipe out, OR, eventually wake up to see the simple facts such as have been detailed repeatedly throughout this MORIANITY, such as TOOLS BEING USED BY HALLS FAWCES, and those tools being none other than MIND CONTROL TELLOSIAN NIGHTMARISH JUNK, AND DONE BY THE MILITUFORCE, THE EARTHLY COUNTERPART OF THE ASTRAL PLANE (SPIRIT-WORLD) GROUP KNOWN ONLY ON THAT PLANE OF EXISTENCE AS THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL!!!!

Mike McNulty would chime in somewhere around here with his famous and very annoying line of, ALLIGATOR HATERS ANONYMOUS, ALLIGATOR HATERS ANONYMOUS, ALLIGATOR HATERS ANONYMOUS, ALLIGATOR HATERS ANONYMOUS, or abbreviated from the year of 1971 as, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am going to tell a lot of major stories since this attack on me is so major on this cunt chewing Tuesday morning, 11 June, but not on this blog, but they are indeed are just around the damn corner. MY CUM-PUKE-HER (computer) is also being major hacked while this incessant fucking hollering is going down outside of my door with these TOTALLY ILLEGAL SUBLETTING GUESTS FROM NEXT DOOR IN UNIT #605, SIR SHERIFF!!!!!!!!! This hack is an oldie but a fucking cunt goodie, the one where I am typing and suddenly words like 'major stories' suddenly come out as 'majpst orsie' for example, SHERIFF SIR, so it is high time for a MAJOR FUCKING COUNTERSTRIKE AGAINST THE GODDAMN MILITUFORCE, WITH ME' MAGGIE, YARRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, this assault on me is major ELDER ABUSE, and it obviously will be going on ALL FUCKING CUNT DAY LONG, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:

Computer, hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and utterly wiping out, my enemy neighbors in UNIT #605, that are viciously persecuting me, bringing me endless ROACHES and NOISE, USING MAXIMUM POWER on a crush-destruct order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Computer, 'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

GO TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P

Now everyone on this planet knows that things do not or at least SHOULD NOT happen in two ways, without some gigantic reason behind it, and those two ways pertain to length of time or the duration of the event, as well as the whys to it all, or the reasons behind it being based on any rational logic, or put simply, this shit being done to me ever since my leaving high fucking school in this perfectly timed pattern that is undeniable and unmistakable unless a person is totally refusing to see the reality. I for one can think of absolutely no reason that this is happening to me BUT IT IS without a mother fucking doubt, and even if there would be some wild reason that I have yet been able to uncover or discover, no plan against a person, would cover four and five decades of time, because human life span is not long enough for this to be really truly ongoing, AND YET IT IS! Clarence Harris, who worked at Congressman Andrews' Office back in 1997 and 1998, told me that he personally knew that there were tortured people, who mysterious forces appeared to be doing this very thing to them, such as himself and me, whereby no matter where you go to or move to, or work, or live, or what you may do to try to escape this bullshit that appears to have no end at all ever, it is meaningless and a futile waste of time and effort. He told how the same agony was done to him, but in different ways and done by different people, but the pattern was unmistakable and totally undeniable, and this is absolutely mother fucking right. He would say that you would move and escape one particular person and POOF, another one would take that person's place as if by pure weird fucking magic, and then the same suffering would just come right back to him. THIS IS THE VERY SAME THING WITH ME, and I definitely do not believe that we are the only two mother fuckers on this goddamn EARTH-PLANET, who are going through this totally fucking outlandish nightmare mess on steroids, 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!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is when Dairy Queen Kate did her magic in Abseacon, New Jersey, and even with that, and Clarence being onto how this all seems to work in some perfectly ordered and planned system of demonic and hellish powerful invisible gear shift nuts and bolts precision, he still let these MILITUFORCES win by not seeing through Kate's fucking evil bullshit that day at the Dairy Queen. This story has been told in full detail numerous times, on numerous fucking prior blogging texts, and will not be repeated on this blog here today, me' BLOGAUDIANS!

One secret I will let out on this short blog, and that is that quantum physics taught me a lot of powerful shit about this hellishness that I am suffering through, and in fact, no other explanation existing outside of this mathematical discipline, can even remotely hope to explain most of this dog fucking shit. For one example, if you make up any system at all, let's say to play against the game of ROULETTE for example, and play it during really bad times of this DEATH SIEGE, this is when they will dependably crash and burn on you. However, the actual random selection of roulette numbers on the six outside bets, being RED-BLACK-ODD-EVEN-LOW-HIGH, followed by a spin of a wheel, is for the most part unaffected, and if a player has been in a certain percentage over a recent time period and play period outcome amounts, that percentage DOES NOT ALTER. It is as though somehow, and in wild ways that humans simply are not ever able to perceive, the basic reality around us manages to not alter in visible or provable ways, so that these incredible forces can remain forever hidden in the shadows of quintessential stealth, yet they do manage to somehow simultaneously move a shadow-reality that surrounds everything, so that a net result or net effect, manages to always consistently surround the person, who the forces are directly effecting. Put simply with the ROULETTE example, make up any system, and on very bad days or stretches of them, sooner or later, without any unusual change in the otherwise random order of many things that exist all around us, it is somehow as if we are thrown into a child's playpen where a super smart and bratty child can do anything at all to us merely by drawing a stick figure picture of us that depicts what it wants to happen to us, and suddenly, this predetermined net result and effect happens by the reality just shuffling around in ways that make it so, yet all the while, all parts of this shuffled reality remain within the norms of atomic matter. Want a real powerful and quick example? We all know the truth about dosages and amounts, and how just a tiny difference can be curative or fatal, such as in the world of medicine. To make this example work as numbers might in a Roulette Game, to keep my example really good, we must create for sake of this example, a world where medicines are taken differently on various days, such as pill-A taken on Monday, pill-B taken on Tuesday, pill-C taken on Wednesday, and so forth. Using this rather than randomly falling ROULETTE NUMBERS, if we lived in this kind of a world, and some force or enemy wanted to make us sicker than dog shit, all they would have to do is confuse our minds and get us to take the pill for Monday on a Friday, and the pill for Wednesday on a Saturday, and scramble them up. Now the same pills are taken during this week, AND YO FOLKS, no poisons are added to the pill box, nor have any necessary medications been removed from the patient's pill box either. BUTTERCHEESE AND YES SIR, BIG ASS BUTTTTTTTTT, now do you see how things can be done to the major fucking detriment of someone who is the target of this MILITUFORCE, without ever leaving a trace, so that a person such as myself who has complained of this occurrence in their life for decades, is endlessly told that he is a major nut case crack pot looney tune whackadoodle? If anyone anywhere would just stop and examine my simple logic and use that simple example, they would be forced to at least give me the benefit of the doubt that my story may be all totally real and true, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

May 31, 2019 3:00 AM – Jun 7, 2019 2:00 AM

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My blogs

the continuation of "The Epitome of Harrassament"

About me

Gender	MALE
Industry	SECURITY
Occupation	persecution study statistic
Location	Fort Pierce, Florida, United States, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, this part of HS
Introduction	being one of perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going back far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal with an extremely unpleasant situation.
Interests	finding my way home to the void infinity.
Favorite Movies	Old movies in general, not filled with so much blood and gore. They need to tell a story and have a moral, not making you waste two hours wondering why you did so at the end, as with almost all of them.
Favorite Music	Most older music has enjoyable qualities, symphonic pieces, piano sonata, even some early and middle last century stuff, all good ballads with great vocalists.
Favorite Books	Being specific is not as we 60's kids said a lot, my thing. If pressed, any informative and educational book at all, as well as great detective stories, and some paranormal research books also.

When you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll drown?

Well, I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am the one in 1984 from Highland Avenue.

5 TIMES OVER, I POWER BLOGGER, AND I PLUG THE MILITUFORCE TOO!

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

LINKS TO MY ORIGINAL 2006 BLOGS:

THE GREAT AWESOME 'TWB'; YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!

Oh Maggie, it ain't late September, and it sure ain't fucking got nothing to do with Mister Rodney Stuart, or Mike McNulty, or any other slanting cottages, up north there in ol' fucking Pennsylvania! Beat me up all you fucking want to, Mister Bob Jurist Jurik and Ice Cream Katy-Queen. I am so used to getting fucking damn pummeled into total shit. The death angel is annoying as mother fucking all dam shit lately, on my left side, on my right side, what is this Mister Weldon Criminal Saunders??? Old credit slinging Mountainpen, huh Tandy company-1997? There are a lot of great Paula's out there, and great and dangerous clever curly NASA-GIRLS, and even Driver-Jackson of the mighty McDonald Douglas Company knows that much about me and my fucking dam ass secrets from HELL!

Eighteen clever girls

I remember it. I also remembered it unconsciously as a man of thirty. If for any reason, she ever remembers even a spark of any of this while here in any of her jacked in lives, and uses this pass-code for her computer, (eighteenclevergirls) without the parenthesis, or three identities inside of six dimensions; or as Magnesonic/Keyboards From Petahell uses it as CG-18, with or without any help at all from lovely 12 year old Queen Elizabeth, and wow few know how gorgeous our great queen was back then; but yes, great 1984 © Office, this is WHAT IS WRONG, as well as Jim Burr telling me about Zwonko and his wild inventions, and then on top of the list, when he told me that something in my family was after me and trying to do me in, back in the beginning of 1974 and even in the end of 1973, just months after my graduation from the PC Institute, and became so PC ahead of my time, and without a single candle, Gene Roddenberry. Now that's 'sayin' something', is it not; rock star BILLY H??????????????? http://www.billyharner.com/ WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

THIS FUCKING DOOR SLAMMING IS REDICULOUS, SHERIFF KEN MASCARA SIR, JESUS FUCKING GODDESS ALMIGHTY PAULA THE KING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 100

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WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, what a totally mother fucking screwed up world we live in. I know you agree with me, Sir 99-Bombs-PRINCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh what to do with it all, Mister Mike McNulty, kind sir from autumn of 1971; YO BRRRRRR!

Taking something said at the very beginning of the Morianity Old Testament on cassette tape, from 1995, I told how confusing ones enemies is probably equal to any number of nuke weaponry that one might use instead and it would be so much messier for the entire world with those things all going off. Never ever mother fuckign underestimate THE POWER OF CONFUSING AN ENEMY. I have been on the wrong and totally fucking shitty end of that stick since I walked out of the great powerful non lion-tiger-bear-Dorothy-twisters COOLEY WORMHOLE HALL OF KINGS HIGHWAY IN HADDONFIELD, NEW HJERSEY, MISS AT&T BLAKE OF 1983, ELEVEN YEARS BEFORE I EVER CAME TO KNOW YOU AND DISCUSS MY WOES WITH YOU OVER A TELEPHONE!!!!!!!!!!!! Sam Trinidad Julie White Central Park Taxicabs all notwithstanding here great people, and all wild wide angle turns of new age school buses; remember this powerful item about confusion. It is how I am kept so far off course for numerous mother fuckiGN decades now, President Obama my old buddy here in Bearhugsville, Florida, USA Pizza-Shops!!! YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP AND YIPPIR FOLKS; this is going to get very ugly and very hairy. Miss Blake, if you have not retired from AT&T and have made a career out of your job there since I knew you from the year of 1983; well, listen up should be some remote chance, you too are reading along here. Lions, tigers, bears, or double tigers, all notwithstanding; Miss Blake was the lady in 1983 at the AT&T Annoyance Caller Bureau, in New Jersey. For over 70 times, one of my creditors from Illinois, where Paula Somnambulist Kings' folks all hail from in her true name-identity; and this creditor calls me and a young voice speaks and says, ''YIP''. There are no rocks of Gibraltar or Prudential any longer, Mister Robert Riches. I thought that maybe, just cunt eating fucking maybe, some few things would remain stable like nuclear half life times. Then it hit me like a ton of loose fucking goose farts, cubed and dam ass Cuban. Even these items can be extremely long times as well as extremely short times, as anyone knows only too well who works inside laboratories of particle accelerators (atomic-collider's) or whatever, Bob Andrews, old 1975 pal! So what are you up to these days, Mister Russell Deflavia??????? JESUS CHRISTMAS CRAP!!!!! My cunt eating rotten nabes from hell are really slamming all day today, Attorney General Bondi, YO, even if you don't care one little dam ass bit about my rights!!!

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MY WONDERFUL BEAUTIFUL ELECTRON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DON'T YOU EVER GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME, BEAUTIFUL LOVELY TALL TEEN BLOND, & LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NEED HELP DIANA, PLEASE, BRING ME YOUR LIGHTNING!!!

THESE TURDS ARE KILLING ME DIANA MY LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So yes Patty-57, thanx for the wild 'dreams' the other night. But “still”, to quote the great Detective Lenny L&O Brisco; REALITY-EDITING verses TOWEL-SEEPAGE-EFFECTS of fifth dimensional hyperspace; which is it, and when is it one or the other? I'll hear those marvelous wild breath echoes, endlessly and forever; huh United States Copyright Office? YES, WHO CAN EVER KNOW? I said it really well on that old fucking cassette tape, did I not, YO????????

But Cousin Donald, in this same area of the hyperspace; or where I am having these seemingly endless recurring nightmare dreams, where I am in that horrible fucking house, that exists in that particular area in fifth dimensional hyperspace, somewhere off of Interstate #95, near Grant Avenue, in Northeastern Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; has a property, that I also visit, and seem to be in; during many of these 'NIGHTMARES', and I think it is some type of a fucking looney bin. It is so goddamn fucking real, it comes right up and bites me in the asshole. But P.H. Was telling me and reminding me, that when Cuzz-Donald was telling me about reality-splicing, he also told me that soon he was planning to use this powerful idea and tool, to his advantage, through some inconceivably elaborate scheme and plot that he had, and wouldn't share with me of course. This was right after that goofy fucking movie that Olivia Newton John starred in, where after some car crash had occurred, someone kept rewinding a life-tape, and made reality-changes or EDITS. I had absolutely no idea just how incredibly diabolical and mischievous this plan truly was, not at the time, in the very early eighties, for fucking cunt crissake, YO, BRO! Patty went on with some incredible shit about how I am going to have to eventually fucking arrive at my own conclusions and that no one else is able to make things clear for me. Only I am able to see the clear picture in all of this, eventually; SHE TOLD ME! In this newly spliced reality, everyone seems to have just slipped through as if it is all so normal and natural. You know, no more fucking normal Presidential news conferences, non-stop rallies and party promotion bull fucking shit. On and on. It is all as unnatural as shitting backwards, you know, eating through our fucking assholes and then shitting out through our goddamn mouths, Again, I'll say it, YUK. Yet, is is a fucking lie, or is it the goddamn truth; my kind Blogaudians????????????? No other president ever ever ever, has endless fucking rallies since and after WINNING an election, endlessly supporting his party candidates, so as to strengthen his position of great power, that I promise all of you, HE HAS ABSOLUTELY NO PLANS TO EVER ABDICATE. I promised you long ago at the start of this fucking election shit, that he would win, and now I promise you, WE ALL WILL BE ADDRESSING HIM SOON AS KING TRUMP! This is what HOLLYWOOD was TOLD to pull that fucking '45' movie. Too fucking cunt bad too, as it was a really great fucking movie, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IPYT!!!!!!!!!

All of reality is symbolically tied together. The human authors of the BIBLE know it, and so do all really intelligent human beings. When I ran away, I had only a few bags and only a few clothes, as space in my vehicle was limited, and I had to make my escape while Dawn King was very drunk one night, imagine that, all French grapes of wrath!!!!!!! At this time, the entire country was in a deep freeze, that is all except for Florida, as they were experiencing an early December heatwave, sunny and 90, back on that early second week in December of 2009. I had no coat, just some jerseys, some underwear, and some pants, a few pairs of socks, and the shoes on my feet. Anything more placed into my car may have just aroused too much suspicion from KING DAWN, and QUEEN PAULA. So Florida was my only logical destination, unless my plan was to run away and effen freeze to death. The rest as they say, is history!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me move on and tell you all a little story about a fellow student back at the Cooley Hall in Haddonfield, New Jersey, back in the autumn of 1969, or possibly the early weeks of January of 1970. His name was Mike Murray. I know I probably have mentioned how he came a half inch away from taking out one of my eyes, while I was sitting alone one day in Misses Marola's class, with that trustworthy kids best weapon, a long opened up large paper clip and a powerful good sized rubber band. I also know that I told how one Saturday, I rode my bike over to the school from my apartment in Oaklyn, New Jersey, and we got talking, and he told me a detailed description of a movie that he had just seen on television, called Brigadoon. Not Trump's Base, not the Briggbase, but the famous movie about the magical Irish town. Here is what the mighty Fascitar revealed to me back in the end of the last century while I was in an extremely deep Edgar Cayce type of tranced out mental state. On the Astral Plane, and in the Capitol Province of it, called Olympia; there is a method of translating many of the words used, into the Earth waking world English language, that I refuse to get into for now. I know that I have made a big deal about the Cooley Hall, and adding names to it such as HIGH HELL. I do all things for reasons, and they need not be explored in full detail at any one given time. It is not that this author is attempting to hide anything or be at all evasive or cunning about one solitary thing. It simply is that time just does not permit me to get fully into all of the details of elucidation on all of these multiplex topics that these blogs have discussed for nearly thirteen years now. I literally could take a century trying to tell it all! But after this large defeat in the elections, for the good, and the defenseless, and the downtrodden, you know; the small poverty stricken kept down and under class; I've now decided to tell something, and in fact, I am going to tell a couple of things. But let me begin with why Mike Murray told me about this movie, and how this place called Brigadoon connects to the Cooley Hall, on and from an ASTRAL PLANE point of view, remembering that this is where the GODS come from! Province Olympia is a powerful and awesome 'place'. There are no real places, astrally, of course, as they exist because a lot of Purgatites all agree that they do in particular interactions. In this powerful 'place', I exist as Ricktafarius at the Ricktown Manor, and with me is the Goddess Diana Arteemis. I also am Zeranniss Arthur Yancy Jones, and my city name of YANCY is in the CAPITOL CITY registry, at what people on the Earth Planet might think of, as some type of a large City Hall. To have a city-pass, you need to have a city-name; and this name is registered. When the round-ups occur, your identity is then verifiable, and you are not deported out of the great capitol city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. If a deportation is strike-4, you are transported by the Callio-Squad to DOGTOWN, to serve a trespass sentence. My point to all of this folks, is this. We are so large in our true beingness, that we can experience a multiplex of lives and do it totally simultaneously. When we dream out into the nuclear universe as carbon clay beings, we also have many lives and existences throughout unimaginable amounts of time and hyperspace or parallel universes where alternate selves of us are living, but totally unaware of these truths, unless inside of deep dreaming states, where we advance beyond the state of what Morianity labels as TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS. Making an ultra long story as short as is humanly possible, there is a word in the Province Olympia, and I'll spell it out for all of my Blogaudians. OKSNUSHELARZIUM. If spoken anywhere in Province Olympia, this word suddenly develops two English Language Earth waking-world equivalents, and I'll spell these words out now as well. ZYALEROON and BIDARENEMPTEALL. With almost 100% accurately translated meaning to Earth-English, those two words above are BRIGADOON and COOLEY HALL. The difference would be less than the accent that perhaps a Frenchman or a Latin woman would speak when perfectly saying to an American or an Englishman, the word September or some similar type of word. Now this was decades before my mother ever told me anything about my Great Aunt from Chicago, Illinois, Mizz Alice Gallagher. There are roots from the Gallagher family to Donald Trump's maternal side, and is why I call him 'distant-cuzz'. There also are family connections to the people responsible for making this fantastic movie. There is of course a whole lot more to all of this, but allow me to just whet your appetites a tid little wee bit for right now, me peeps! The story that moves much closer in, to all of the nightmare parts to Morianity, and Mountainpen's suffering's, is connected in many other ways; only beginning with the Gallagher line of my mom's Huntington family, and ending up all the way to the mighty Robert McGuire of Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG. I believe that when a Masonic member made me aware about powerful secrets kept by this great brotherhood lodge system, pertaining to the HUNTINGTON FAMILY, and its roots before that name as the Stuart's, and even going back before the crusades to the very half brothers and half sisters of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself; this led to the covert plot to murder the man who told me and revealed to me a great family lineage chart. I speak of the murder by way of slow poisoning, of a Mister David Charles Roth, by a fellow Masonic Brother, Mister Jonathan Schau.

When I told the record promoter, Lenny McKinnon, that I could produce the Beatles for him if that would get him off my back, things began to get, to quote that great old fifties Superman television show about the racehorse, “dangerous around here”, for me. If you know anything about the sixties and the political system of that day, you would just maybe see, in light of all of my Morianity; just how incredible this plot is, and how stuff totally all ties together, in ways so outlandish and unfathomable, that no words could ever hope to give any of this one bit of true justice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will delve into it as November progresses along, as this is very effen necessary!!!!!!!! The odds of McDowell becoming a top man in the government, after Daniel Mackey told him that someday he would grow up and be a man, and he did, but the odds of all of these people from COOLEY HALL, all becoming big shots with a dark hidden past, are somewhere, and get this, around 372 quatorodecillion to one against it being possible. Want to see that number? Fine.

372,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. Doubt me? Go to any mathematical department at any good university, and see if I am lying here, peeps!

END TRANSMISSION.

THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.

THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE

ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, SECTION-Z

5:00 POST MERIDIAN

EARLY SUNDAY EVENING

9 JUNE, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

My next door assholes starting banging doors and hollering in the hallways, between two and four of the goddamn clock, on this Sunday afternoon, but what else is new around this diseased turd swallowing place for the sake of the Lord, or said even more apropos, (SOSO-WEIN-SSDD)!!!!!!!!! Now as I type this blog out, they are making noise on my walls, again and as usual, yo yo yo yo, SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is just so much horrible fucking shit that I endure living here in this public housing nightmare building from total DOGTOWN, I know that I made a huge error in not moving from this monster ass putrid place years ago!!!!!!!!! If it were not for Ann King Silva and and her monster ass daughter DAWN-MARIE, I wouldn't be in this horrible Florida fucking nightmare shituation. Still, if it were not for the mother fucking MILLIONTH-COUNCIL TELLOSIAN MIND CONTROL MONSTERS FROM HELL, I never would have even had to cross paths with those lovely people from maggotville. All of this shit from hell on steroids goes far beyond just the King family, or Patty Hollister, or Jim Burr, or all of the wonderful fucking BUTTERCHEESE BIG ASS BUTTS; simply never would have happened to me to begin with. In fact, I never would have had to go to Princeton's NJNPI, Haddonfield's Cooley Hall HH Hallucinogenics, or met those marvelous Exploratronic Supermind Society educators from any of those wovwee places either, huh Mister Elmer Fwudd? So WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Lightning has been around me all afternoon, flashing lovely colors and designs out my window. Her ribbon bolts have danced across the skies over this part of Fort Pierce, Florida, and as I speak-type, she is still around me. WO, Mister Harner, coffee-man!

Mike McNulty had the old alligator haters laugh back in 1971, at Exton, Pennsylvania's Church Farm School, huh great and late disco queen Donna? Snort that one out, Mizz Altoona and Ron all the answers Carlisle Wirtz Senior, ADA of the mighty and quite illustrious Camden County, New Jersey, Prosecutor's Office. Yessir Mike, the founder of the old Alligator Haters Anonymous, abbreviated into AHA. Yes old pal from nearly 48 years ago now, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PRAISE BE TO THE FUCKING ASTRAL PLANE GODS!!!!!!!!! Many wild things are in the wind all around me, but things started to take a shape all their own on Sarah Jacobson Cooley Hall HH Watergate Day, shortly after I decided to redo an old 1983 song called, “Girl, I'll Tell You Anything”, and make a few changes to it, very minor ones, Mister American Express Goldsmith Mountainpen Miners, and yes again, “OH WELL”. Whether or naut, Mizz AT&T Blake from 1983, three wells really do make a river, mahm; there was nothing at all in any possible way that was average or one bit every day ordinary about Sir HALLS NON HALLucinogenic FAWCES and their desire to write that wild 'GITYA' song, through me, or to quote the mighty knowitall James Tiberius Burr, to use me to get it done. These powerful awesome mother fucking forces used me to do this and many other powerful fucking things, and especially in the world of music and musical projects, as well as giving me the power house idea that someday in some near and very mysterious future, unfathomable enemies would surround me and cause me to need to inform to the world what they have done to me in some organized and intentional way, and that I needed to find a great way to ensure that my messages concerning this would survive time, Mizz Dark Shadows Julia Hoffman, and Mizz Amybottles Denise Nickerson, and so in order to make that a reality, I wound need to employ the reasonable services of the United States Copyright Office. I would say that I've had some real Obama-Whopper-Doozies when it comes to HALLS FAWCES using me for wild and inconceivable items, both recently as well as during the course of my entire mother fucking shit eating pathetic life, and you are correct here Mister Microsucks Spellchecker System, the word lifeguards would fit here quite well also, yo! No me' great world, I don't forget things, none of these things, and I never will, and YYYYYYYYYY you all ask me? 'Simpelll', Mister Chuck Kim from 1978's Certainteed Fiberglass Company of Berlin Junction, New Jersey, DPAESMWG. I have NAUT been afforded the goddamn fucking luxury of doing that marvelous and wonderful thing, YO me BROS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JAYJAY EVANS SAID IT BEST IN THE MIDDLE SEVENTIES, YO, “WHAT CAN I SAY”? MAYBE ZIGGY AND I COULD ADD IN HERE, “THAT'S THE WAY IT GOES”, BUT THEN CBS, WHO KNOWS; OTHER THAN YOU AND EVERYBODY IN THE SWEEPS GAME OF ENTERTAINMENT PROGRAMMING, YO. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

SLAM-SLAM-SLAM, APARTMENT LIFE SUCKS BIGGER DICKS THAN EVEN MISTER CW'S!

[ 13 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Saga of song writer Mark Mud.

PAu000501582

1983

[ 20 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part two.	PAu001148157	1988
[ 21 ]	Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitome of harassment part 3.	PAu001189027	1989

NO BUTTERCHEESE HERE, THIS IS NOT STARBURNODI PROPERTY FROM OVER THERE IN SOME PARALLEL REALITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What breath echo can ever really and truly know anything???????????

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BUTTTTTTT BIG ASS BUTTERCHEESE-BUTT, FOLKS, even STAR TREK-TNG could not conceive of the horrendous fucking SHADOW MONSTERS OF PYLE AVENUE AT APARTMENT NUMBER 125-A, IN HADDON HILLS OF WESTMONT, NEW JERSEY, IN THE MIDDLE MOTHER FUCKING NINETEEN SIXTIES, HUH GREAT DIVIDED PARTIES COPYRIGHT OFFICE OF THE FUTURE? SO LET ME GET BACK WHILE I STILL CAN, OH MIGHTY KEVIN CORNFIELDS COSTNER, AND JAMES COOLVOICEARL JONES, YO YO YO YO YO

Yes there really was, Mizz 401 KRASSLE Virginia Avenue, a Sir James Knowitall Burr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So just what really are powerful LOIS FOCA AGE-10 CONNECTIONS, you may be inquisitive about, or maybe like Cuzz Don, 'you don't give a shit'. The same forces that used me to create such music and songs such as the four titled, Love Is For Carpenters, Girl I'll Tell you Anything, That's The Way It Goes, and Burn With Fire, is not some cosmic absurd accident, by even the wildest stretch of anyone's imagination. Great folks and my wonderful and awesome BLOGAUDIANS, IPYT!!!!!!!!!!! Then if we take the near death experience of my musical arranger over at Garden State Hospital in 1986 with that fire, just several months after the Medport Diner incident with my telling David Roth all about the great SARAH KRASSLE for the first time, and followed by a major police situation, that resulted from absolutely nothing wrongly done by us, after we shared a meal, and were out in the car discussing this matter. So I come now to some ultimate conclusions. Yessir and yes mahm folks, I DO, and without any RGG's, or maybe, they were all throughout this entire mess from the very nasty-ass beginning, and when I use the word beginning, maybe I am speaking quite biblically, and yes Virginia, I loved Diana, and yes girl of Virginia Avenue, I still do and I always will. She is my awesome beautiful coil from the great Purgatory, and She dreams here as LIGHTNING in the skies of the Earth-Planet, so a great big WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

[ 8 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr demo tunes. (LOIS FOCA on this)

PAu000325091

1981

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Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

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YESSIR SHERIFF, I AM AT THE STATUS OF:

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May 31, 2019 3:00 AM – Jun 7, 2019 2:00 AM

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Hey Jayjay, what can I say, it seems America loves me after all, and even my Canadian friends deserted me. NGADS asked me recently not to discuss his mission here, and that this is why things went beyond nuts for me in this PH Building (not this Patty-57) building mind you, and told me to let the world know that I am incorrect about him being the intelligence agent known as AdeepS. It seems I caused a little trouble in the CIA, and so I am apologizing for that. In any case, who knows, maybe then he is one of the big butter cheeses of the mighty Tellosion Exploratronic Supermind Society. Yessir/mahm, I thought maybe since my First Cuzz Mizz Sandra Mason married the Canadian Citizen Mister Timothy Letterman, that this might have come to light and some offspring family up there in those great lovely north lands, were reading the Mountainpen. Oh well, to quote the illustrious Mizz ann King Silva!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes the great washcloth family of Dogtown. Let me now go and wash my hands of this mess, Mister ultimate fighter David of Smithtown, New York, and Mister Highness Emperor Assistant Pontious Pilate. Not all things can be washed away, perhaps not even with the great blood of my sixty-first great grand father's Uncle Jesus Carpenter of Nazareth. OH BOY, huh Annihilating ANN??????? Yes, because I loved Diana, She said that She would spare the world, for a while anyway. Oh Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, how I love you my endless all powerful TEEN-QUEEN!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Thursday, June 13, 2019

ETERNAL JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD, BB

Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

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