NUMDWATATES
NOTE B1
WEATHER
REPORT FROM THE WONDERFUL TWC (THE WEATHER CHANNEL)
TEMPERATURE
AND SKIES: 90 AND SUNNY
HEAT
INDEX: 102 DGFHT
WINDS:
ENE AT 7 WITH NO GUSTS
VISIBILITY:
10 MILES
HUMIDITY:
61%
DEWPOINT:
75
BAROMETRIC
PRESSURE: 29.95 & FALLING
PREDICTION:
SCATTERED THUNDERSTORMS WITH A 50% CHANCE OF RAIN
AIR
QUALITY IN TOWN: GOOD
My
'CUM-PUKE-HER' is slow, and
acting weird-hacked, FBI, ACLU, State and Federal ATTORNEY
GENERALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
Monday,
August 26, 2019, at 3:00 P.M.
WANING
CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6
F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6
WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5
WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4
WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
Now
I discussed some wild frikkin' dog stenches on the opening of the
blog, and not a whole lot will be added on this following short blog,
other than to add a few small parts to things recently said and told,
starting with that powerful wild vivid dreaming interaction where I
was at my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason's home up in Narberth,
Pennsylvania, and Diana was calling through (Lightning),
and gave me Privecode-#729. She placed
into my head, within 24 hours after being 'awake', whatever that
truly is, that this was not merely one of the Privecode numbers, but
was also a DIGICODE-NUMBER,
and that any number that is not a single or a
triple digit number, converts into a
three digit or 'digicode' number, by
using the following extremely simple formula:
In the case for example of the two digit number of (27),
the far right digit becomes digit number one. The far left digit
becomes digit number two. Then the sum of the digits of the entire
number are added and continue added when necessary, until only one
digit remains that is between a one and a nine. So in the case of
#27, the far right digit is a 7. The far left digit is a 2. The sum
of 27 is two plus 7 which results in a single digit that is a 9. This
is the final digit, so we get 7, 2, and 9. Hence, number 27 has the
digicode of 729. Diana was giving me HER
NUMBER OF 27. When we do this with the four digit number
of 1802, we get 212,
and the area code to quite a lot more than just the Martin
Audio/Video Store, where my RS1500US
open reel tape machine was purchased at, right after I
moved into 1802 Robin Hill. The intersection of the RPL sound
recording labs where I was working in 1980 before moving into the
Robin Hill place, has two addresses. One is 1558 Pierce Avenue. The
other is 1100 State Street. When we do the first of the three
operations of digit transfers, if the digit is a zero, you need to
keep moving back to the left until there is a digit from 1-9. In the
case of 1100, the two far right zeros are skipped and thus, the
digit-1 next to them is used. Doing this, Diana explained to me that
number 1100 becomes 112.
My address at my Mantua, New Jersey home that I purchased in
September of 1979, was 112 East Fifth Avenue. If a number and its
digicode counterpart both have a connection such as this and the
following place at 1802, we can know that an extremely powerful
connection is there, and thus, whatever is happening, it
is of COSMIC VALUE. Not my words here folks, HERS,
Diana's. When the gods speak directly to you inside of your
head, the APA
calls this mental illness. I call this, direct
communication. Now, I am just wondering now what the AAT
peeps will be calling it. All the things I now see on the
educational television channels pertaining to the Ancient
Astronaut Theorists (AAT), I said three and four decades
ago, all the time; and thus picked up the
reputation of being nuts, crazy, insane, and quite the loony bird!
Morianity now will be the topic of future
discussions on television as well, as things
do indeed tend to endlessly
CONTINUE-CONTINUE-CONTINUE-CONTINUE, AND YES,
CONTINUE around me, huh Mister James
Tiberius Burr, of the mighty and illustrious Gloucester City,
in No Joysey, DPAESMWG???
Just
because I have not yet come to see all of the cosmic connections
converted into digicode numbers, does not mean that there is none. I
am working on this. I mean truly the year 1969 is 'HUUUUUUUUUUUGE',
to quote wonderful Senator Sanders, BUTTERCHEESE
and BIG ASS BUTT-but, at the present moment in time, I don't
have knowledge to 1969's digicode number of 917 as far as its meaning
for me. I do however trust implicitly that THERE IS ONE, AND A DAMN
BIG ONE TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
woke up today and went into my kitchen shortly past one this
afternoon, and was greeted by nasty ass stinky roaches. I emptied yet
another CAN OF RAID BUG SPRAY. Ain't life just glorious and GRAND,
Mister Roth sir???????????
Aug
13, 2019 6:00 PM – Aug 20, 2019 5:00 PM
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GLOBAL
BLOG POPULARITY MAP IS NO LONGER 'CAPPABLE' ON THE BLOGGER/GOOGLE
WEBSITE.
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=1f5ea5de-8c4e-45d9-a0a4-07ed8eab4f96'
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JANE
WITCHBITCH SLEAZeweedsdisease JUST GOT ME AGAIN, PROVING I AM MOST
DEFINITELY IN HELL, AS ONLY IN HELL CAN THIS BE REAL, AND NO PLACE
ELSE!!!!!!!!!!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555AND
THAT IS MY DAMN ASS COMPENSATION FOR HER VICIOUS ASSAULT ON ME WITH
ENDLESS HORRENDOUS EVIL UGLY 'ONES'!!!!
Things
such as never ever being able to go through my pitiful days without
seeing the one thing that makes me so angry and sick there is no
mother loving words to describe it, proves to me at least, THAT THIS
IS HELL. But please, I can prove it in a thousand other huge ways
also. I will take anyone out here any time at all, and show you this
is absolutely the truth, as I showed Mister Clarence Harris that day
in Philadelphia, as I showed Mister Roadway Security Officer Joe
Paget, as I showed many others who are not so normal any longer. I
can have you secretly follow me around, and just do the exact
opposite thing that I do, endlessly, and you will become the
wealthiest mother loving trillionaire on the planet. If you see me
bet on BLACK at a roulette game, you bet RED. If you see me go SHORT
on a commodity or a stock, you go LONG. Just go opposite of any and
every damn thing that I ever do, endlessly and forever. If this won't
prove to anyone out here from the mother sucking POPE to the
PRESIDENT, to any of you in the ATT Society, then
tell me what I should do then TO PROVE IT TO YOU,
because I AM TOTALLY MOTHER LOVING OUT
OF MY FUDGED UP PATHETIC MIND,
YO!!!!
Missing
time is a huge thing with the UFO people,
and WOW can I tell you some wild true tales from where, yeah folks,
FROM HELL, RIGHT HERE WHERE I AM
ETERNALLY STUCK IN, AND WHERE I SCREAMED OUT TO MISTER 'JTB', BACK IN
THE FALL OF 1976, SCREAMING OUT “HOW LONG WILL THIS CONTINUE
AND CONTINUE AND CONTINUE”,
AND THE ANSWER IS, AND WAS AND, ALWAYS WILL BE; FOREVER
AND EVER AND FREAKING
EVER, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANNY; YE' SICK OLD UGLY GRANNY!
NUMDWATATES
NOTE A1
I
have formed some brand new conclusions over the weekend, and
now I boldly begin a brand new series on my
Mountainpen Blogs. These will be the notes
(journals-diaries-lab-findings), or
whatever words anyone should ever wish to think
of this as. The title, simply is the way that the abbreviation
of this new series would be pronounced, and accented on the first of
the three syllables. The actual letters, for the record, and for
posterity I suppose' would be (NUMDWTAATS),
and here is what these letters stand for: NOTES
UNTIL MY
DEATH, WILLED
TO ANCIENT
ASTRONAUT THEORISTS
SOCIETY. It's my absolute
sincerest hope that I am totally wrong in the following things and
concepts that I will now print onto this blog and later expound and
elaborate upon on many following ones as well. In any case, the near
future 'AAT
Society' is
downloading words and blogs that I still have not yet printed, just
as in the same manner that I always wished to convey to Doctor
Coral Sagan, before the great Star Trek V-GER Probes were
launched, AKA the Voyager 1 and the Voyager 2, with a little
'Houston Humor' for any loyal Trekker fans out here on the net, now,
later, and 'whenever'; that thousands of years
in the future from the middle late nineteen-seventies, and
very far away too, if aliens who may be extremely dangerous, are in
fact really out there somewhere, and capable of transferring
antimatter space, (going backward into time);
then we NOW have just opened this
Pandora's Box, and there is no closing it,
EVER. People, even the greatest minds
on the Earth Planet, at least throughout my lifetime,
think extremely TWO-DIMENSIONALLY.
Hopefully, I can someday, and somehow, do my small part in making
folks realize that truth. This blog will now do what they all have
been leading up to. Not only three and four dimensions of normal
space-time will be involved, but we will bring the Human
Religion System straight into the FIFTH DIMENSIONAL REALITY,
and with an ultimate and very scary concept that
ties in August 15, 1986, my family,
my curse, my
nightmares both awake and asleep; and a zillion other new
blinding lights that pertain to this higher 5-D thinking process.
Long as this blog may be with a lot of boring text, it merely opens
this all up and barely scratches the surfaces of icebergs with tiny
peach-fuzz shaved slivers.
Back
in my previous series called, “Eternal
Journal of Songwriter Mark Mud”, I mentioned the
“HYPERCHRIST”, but I was in
the infancy stages of realizing myself, just how powerful the fifth
dimensional hyperspace truly is when connected throughout the
absolute truths of religious beliefs and religious truths. What I
will say now will have some nightmarish shock value to the vast
majority who do remember their nocturnal activities, and occasionally
have extremely vivid type dreaming interactions upon going off to
sleep physically. For the many in this category, please think, and
remember how even in our wildest dreams, there is a powerful fluidity
to our waking life reality, except in those pizza pies turning into
mama's face and Mister B. Bellflower's Tobycouch type of dreams. In
almost any dreams that make sense at all or are in what Morianity has
called for a decade or more, “Localized-hyperspace”, we do not
switch from having miserable lives to wonderful lives or vice versa,
nor do we have different type of physical health or that much
different of a romantic life or financial life, and for the very most
part, we live in one fifth dimensional of 'bigger-picture' type of
averaged out truth, and it seems to be quite freaking inviolable and
not alterable at all. Looking at my particular life, all of my dreams
in localized 5th DHS (FDHS), are quite horrible, just is
my waking world existence of pure hellishness as well. However, on
the early morning of the fifteenth of August of the year 1986, I
seemed to be in a whole different life where I had the things that
any mentally healthy young dude would wish to have, such as a loving
lovely family, plenty of damn money, peace of mind, good health, and
general overall success. In a time order of some type where it seemed
t me in a mortal state of mental existence when it was the following
day, my life literally changed from semi-lousy to off the wall
nightmare hellish, and monstrous horrific. I now believe that the
place where I was “dreaming in” was my actual real physical life.
All these alternate realities are and have always been, HELL. In
Earthly HELL, no one comes to anyone and says to them, “Hey
numbskull, in case you're interested there Bozo, you're in damn ass
hell, you moron”. It just doesn't happen to people in that
way. But as I type out literally a million following pages from now
until they bury or burn my physical me-self after I croak, I'll be
going into things that no sane mind can deny is not only very real,
but is being covered up by this powerful
Earthly MILITUFORCE, that does a lot more hush hush work than
just covering up UFO and alien junk, because they know that if I ever
can prove the way that HELL ON EARTH really
works, all religion will be wiped out,
and humanity for the most part will be destroyed, UNLESS,
they can miraculously somehow become quickly elevated in their human
consciousness, to things that are truly happening in PLANCK-TIME, or
the spiritual or Astral-World, or (Purgatory). The Catholics have had
it closer and truer than the rest of us for countless centuries. This
is a plane of timeless existence where indeed there is a HEAVEN, a
HELL, and yes, all the rest of this gargantuan energetic-interaction
that sort of lies all in-between and far out and away beyond as well,
yet ALL INSIDE an area too tiny to see in a zillion years, and it all
seems to exist inside of a zillionth of a second as well. This is why
the great Physicist Community calls this Planck Time in its ultimate
particle, the “GOD PARTICLE”, in their still totally
misunderstood way.
There
is NO WAY IN DOGSHIT
that I am not living in HELL
on this EARTH, in my
present human form as MARK
WAYNE
MOHR. For nearly
sixty five years now, I have been made totally miserable by some
INVISIBLE FORCE AROUND ME that is
simply absolutely unbeatable, and just cannot be defeated no matter
HOW HARD I TRY, OR WHAT I EVER DO! This
brick wall around me is not made of brick, and it is not painted
bright cherry red for everyone to see; yet this invisible field of
force is as real around me as any wall made of concrete could ever
be. It is as powerful as any SYFY type of invisible force field. It
will not allow me to EVER have ANYTHING that is
good or positive, and if anyone EVER wishes to prove me WRONG, go
right ahead, IF YOU CAN, Mister Clarence Harris of 1998, sir;
and my best to your boss and my great country tune vocalist as a
younger boy, the Congressman! He indeed was determined to prove me
wrong one day, AND HE ALMOST LOST HIS MIND. The two days that this
great Marine Corps Man almost lost it, was with ME, once at Katie's
Dairy Queen, and once in Philadelphia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember
folks that this was a hardened MARINE. My life goes far beyond
anything that any of you can possibly imagine, WHETHER YOU WISH TO
BELIEVE ME OR NAUT, MIZZ AT&T BLAKE! My first project with the
professor that mike Patterson and I have been trying so incredibly
hard to do flopped and not one single person downloaded the Krystal's
Ball. The second project has been placed on a big hold, since Mike's
car has blown up, and I will not be able to get to the Miami College
to present this to him, as was planned. Some one or something,
Captain Kirk, JUST WON'T EVER ALLOW ME TO CATCH EVEN THE TINYEST
MOTHER LOVING BREAK, and this has gone on day in and day out and year
in and year out, for HALF A CENTURY!!!!!!!!!! No sane person can
think that every single thing can just endlessly GO WRONG for
someone, and it is just endless pure bad luck with nothing else
mysteriously going on behind it. Not in a mother sucking zillion
years! Any time the world or the forces want to prove me wrong, and
get off my back and allow SOMETHING IN MY LIFE TO WORK OUT IN THE
SMALLEST LITTLE WAY, fine, then and only then will I take back these
words THAT I ABSOLUTELY KNOW TO BE 100 PERCENT TRUE AND REAL AND
ACCURATE!!!!!!!!!!
Every
night I am back in the apartment in Oaklyn, No Joysey, called
“Dellway Arms”, on Oakland Avenue.
This is where I had that wild 2007 'dream'
with the PIPE EXPERT GASME GAMES-MAN,
from where, the great CBC-TV show came about shortly thereafter,
called, “THE MENTALIST”.
Everyone knows that this story is true, and nobody will admit it,
same old same old, AKA MARK MOHR IS IN HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!This is where
I resided when Russell Thaxton came over at one in the morning,
drunker than a tank of goldfish, and he got me to burn the BOOK OF
BEACH with him, forever destroying great and needed evidence of my
ATLANTIC CITY STORY IN MY HELL ON EARTH. This is where I lived the
longest time in pre-adult life, it is also where I lived when SARAH
KRASSLE came to me in that WILD DREAM and stole my chain, and on and
on, and yes, it is where I came to live shortly after I entered
puberty and as all of us know, that counts as a huge item in and of
itself. Mike Patterson is very religious and has had me do the same
thing that the great illustrious Mister Jim Burr had me do, back in
the seventies, pray and read my bible and believe and have faith,
year after year, and nothing ever ever ever ever ever ever changes,
but yes, it does CONTINUE AND CONTINUE AND
CONTINUE AND CONTINUE forever and ever and ever, to be nothing but
HELL, and the reason is simple. I AM IN HELL and it is just
that simple, mister Henningsen of the Central Intelligence Agency,
and Mister AdeepS also! Oh well, at least Mizz Sleazeweedsdisease
missed me by a damn nose hair, ha-ha-ha Icabod and Arthur, and John
Gillerlain. If this wasn't HELL, there couldn't be a COOLEY HIGH HELL
HALL, and all of the wild educators that Morianity has labeled the
Educational Department of the Exploratronic Supermind Society
(ED-ESS). WHAAAAAAA!
Here
it is loud and dirty, General Patton sir. I WAS SHOT by some moron
with a high powered rifle out of one of the windows of the Finistere
Apartments that day back in 1975, coming home from Atlantic City
after getting beaten up by my enemies there, King, Callio, McGuire,
and the gods only know who! I was shot and killed. Or was I? Suddenly
I am able to fly through the damn air. Give me a break, who the hell
can fly? Well, I can for starters. I also can move objects such as
diner rotisseries. Without trying to approach all angles on this
first blog, I am saying that realities split off for all of us at
certain points, because all of reality rides a photon wave. If this
were not true, reality could not be scanned, spliced, and altered,
and it most definitely is, all the time. There was one really great
place for me where I had Starburn, where I was happy, and where there
was an ESS entity who admitted to me that all the other bad locales
in the hyperspace is all one big horrible nightmare hell. It is of
course no way that simple, and things will be harped on individually
on many following texts and blog works. I was walking through that
apartment complex mad at the world after being assaulted in Atlantic
City by those beach patrol mascots, and I cursed out the Lord, and
then POW, some idiot shot me dead before I could repent. I died
Christless, and this is the penalty, ETERNAL HELL.
Is
this entire thing still a game of the gods, you may be asking me.
Well, absolutely it is. I am just trying to talk the language of a
really great 'fence strattler' here, you know, religious words when
needed, and then AAT type of terms, also when needed. And as for the
nightmares where I am in Oaklyn, this is a powerful place in my true
fifth dimensional reality, so indeed, I am in this place and then
that place, and all over the damn place.
The
vast majority of readers are thinking right about now, what is this
stupid blog all about. My response to you is, “WOW are you thinking
two-dimensionally”!
Aug
13, 2019 6:00 PM – Aug 20, 2019 5:00 PM
|
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
WANING
CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6
F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6
WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5
WNG6
WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4
WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
SIGN-OUT
@ 5:16 AM, AUGUST 26, 2019
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