NUMDWATATES
NOTE B2
8:30
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
EVENING
24
SEPTEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
MOUNTAINPEN'S
BLOG STATS:
Sep
17, 2019 4:00 PM – Sep
24, 2019 3:00 PM
|
Pee-em,
pee-em, at least it is not fucking opium!
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
Tuesday,
September 24, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WANING CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 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.
Pageviews by Countries
498
|
ANOTHER
NON-SATURDAY NIGHT, AND I AIN'T GOT NO KATY, NOR ANY RIPPED OFF
TRENTON, NEW JERSEY TUNES, let alone any $money$, yo!
Lordy-Lordy-Lordy, Sir Kevin
Willis. Where the fucking shit eating nightmares are Andre' Blair,
and Lenny McKinnon, when WE DEFINITELY DON'T
NEED THEM, YO YO YO YO YO, MIZZ
MCALLISTER AND SHERIFF MASCARA,
mahm and GREAT SIR?????????????????????
Doors
have been annoying and bad ALL DAY LONG, and still
are going on as of the time I started doing this blog. The way
I see it, if THINGS DON'T START FUCKING CUNT
BACKING OFF ME SOON, THERE WILL BE SOME POWERHOUSE RED
LINE CROSSINGS on the order and magnitude OF
A MOTHER FUCKING MAGNATAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let me give you a preview of where shit may be going, Sheriff sir, if
things proceed along current hellishness for me, as if wiping out my
entire life ISN'T FUCKING CUNT ENOUGH FOR THE GODDAMN MILITUFORCE TO
DO!!!!!
Yes,
I do not disagree with the great Sir David
Charles Roth, when he talked to me upon several occasions back
late in the nineteen-eighties regarding shooting in the dark and
striking innocent targets by accident while my goals and objectives
are only to hit the guilty ones of course. Still, I must fight with
limited resources in this raging war all around me that never seems
to end and is a living fucking nightmare horror on
steroids!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I quit fighting and or quit all together,
to quote my father the Naval Officer from WWll, “I'm
DEAD”!!!!!!!!!!!!! I for one don't wanna' be mother fuckign dead,
so call me cock sucking crazy and weird. So unless things stop
progressing against me on this monstrous level, my indicators that I
carefully maintain and keep, tell me that I
have never been this close into the RED ZONE as I am this week,
and yo, I DON'T MOTHER FUCKING CARE!!!!!!
'Permit me' Uncle Snooty Heinz Gozzwald-Gottwald the Latengrate, to
show you what I am speaking about here, Mizz 1985 and 1988
lovely Carla from Caldor-113
Store, yo yo yo yo yo honey cakes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Weather News
MOUNTAINPEN'S
'REDLINE
CROSSING'
THERMOMETER SYSTEM is based on a
weekly average of touchy subjects mentioned, and how much
detailing secrets are revealed, and is approximately based on a
scale, that only is known by the author of
the 'BOM', Mister Mark
Wayne
Mountainpen
Huntington
Mohr, residing in
Fort Pierce, Florida, as per the years
of late 2009 through the year of 2019
of the Common-era times, and this thermometer is done in color-graph
form:
(*)
represents present week.
SAMPLE
GRAPH BELOW:
************************************************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-17-19
*****************************(*)******************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-10-19
***************************************(*)********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-03-19
************************************(*)***********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-27-19
********************************(*)***************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-20-19
**********************************(*)*************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-24-19
******************************************(*)*****
Anyone
who hasn't downloaded TWB, why not do it,
they are one helluva great tool? DO IT! WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Change Units: °F
| °C
WeatherBug Video Library
USA
Featured Cameras
View live images
and time-lapse video animation from local
WeatherBug
weather cameras.
Weather News
END
TRANNY, MISERABLE ROTTEN GRANNY.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE A2
1:16
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON
24
SEPTEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
MOUNTAINPEN'S
BLOG STATS:
Sep
10, 2019 3:00 PM – Sep 17,
2019 2:00 PM
|
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
Tuesday,
September 24, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WANING CRESCENT 3:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 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.
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
JANE
WHORE GOT ME!!!!!
WHAT
ELSE IS DAMN NEW?
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555
Sheriff
Mascara, kind sir; 'scammers' or
whoever they are, are back to calling me on my Comcast house-phone
system all the time and trying to rob me and rip me off. The same
people who keep showing up as APPLE COMPUTER as well as Anonymous
and then without any other CALLER-ID info, and my Comcast service
won't allow me to ever stop them, even after I pay them faithfully
more than 160 dollars each and every month for my phone-internet-TV
service. All of my life people relentlessly
try to take what little I have, and without their hindrance, I am in
major poverty, and they are out there in some conspiracy
trying to endlessly make my life's situation far worse. my local
Staples Store tells me that this is all ILLEGAL CRIMINALS trying to
con me out of money, my kind wonderful sir, when they tell me my
license key is no good, or that my system has been compromised and
or breached. I don't have an APPLE COMPUTER in the first place. I
have told them this over and over, yet they continue to call and
bother me and TRY AND STEAL MONEY FROM ME. What else is new? I've
been taken and robbed all my life by horrible filth bag jerk off
crooks and criminals who should be BURNING UP IN DOGTOWN,
AKA HELL!!!!! SOSO-WEIN? Then back a season ago in the beginning of
the summer time this year, I had someone masquerading as the
Household Finance Company, who obviously had illegally breached some
financial system records and found out shit regarding my credit info
and history with that company. If this had been real, then I have I
not been served legal papers the way J.C. Penney served me at my
door in 2011 when they filed suit on me and got their default
judgment against me? This is why I said in my previous blog: I have
come to believe after months of not hearing
anything further, that the shit regarding the Household
Finance Company was also nothing but
an ILLEGAL SCAM; SHERIFF KJM
SIR!!!!! They said they were going to sue me, and get a
judgment against me, for approximately
eighty-two-hundred bucks. No legal papers from your Saint
Lucie County Court system ever arrived at my door, nor was there any
knock on my door from any official court officer with certified
paper court documents for me to sign so that a case would then be
filed.
Sheriff
Mascara my kind awesome sir, both my upstairs dirt bag
bastard pricks in unit #707, as well as
my next door #605 Construction Company
dick licking shits are annoying me today with their goddamn noise
and dogshit. Next to me went on a door slamming tirade at quarter
past noon that went on for at least a half hour, and upstairs jerk
off mother fuckers are back to sliding heavy furniture across my
floor without any regard to someone below who must endlessly listen
to their fucking absurd pig shit, or as I said before, they all
somehow get together and decide to assault me at the same time to
really pound me into the ground. IF THIS IS
NOT FUCKING ELDER ABUSE, I ONLY WISH SOMEONE WOULD EXPLAIN JUST WHAT
IS THEN; MY KIND SIR AND LEO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still,
more is behind these magical Copperfield/Blaine OZ CURTAINS, or else
again, someone needs to supply me with a rational and logical
explanation to just why this is all endlessly and forever happening
around me, year in and year out, decade in and decade out, and I
won't rip off the world famous Mister Bob Price Is Right Parker by
adding the century or the millennium heredahelda and HERE!!!! What
I WILL DO FOLKS however, is thissssssssssssssssssssss: And
world forces won't like it, but it IS HIGH
FUCKING TIME WE GET INTO THIS OTHER
NUCLEAR
TRUTH that causes quite
obviously many mental disorders along this same path of logic and
truth, and it really is quite indisputable. I call it the polar
opposite truths of all reality, and it is very powerful as well as
frightening real and monstrous. I promise you that this blog will
take a bite out of these HALLS FAWCES
real Helen 1999 Zebriski GOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!!
Some
days are as if these problems that I am experiencing are purely a
psychological delusion on my part, while other days, it is as if a
magical cosmic light-switch is turned from 'OFF'
to 'ON', and POW, the
dogshit is thrown into huge industrial size fans, while I am tied up
in a room smack dab in the mother fucking cunt lapping middle of
this nasty unfathomable mess. It is just as if I am inside a
huge switch of endlessly pulsating and altering magnetic polarity.
When human beings are diagnosed with this type of mirror imaged
mental illness, it is referred to as the patient having a bipolar
condition, and many have them. My life journal back in the nine-teen
eighties is literally filled with entries where after I am given one
of these horrendous assaults by these forever invisible HALLS
FAWCES, I would go from Doctor Jekyll
to Mister Hyde as a direct result, as well. After-all, who
wouldn't have a major cunt lapping negative response to suddenly
having piles of loose stinky dogshit thrown all over them following
a period of nice quiet peaceful life? Speaking of loose stenchy
shit, the brutal assaults on my physical health ever since this
hellishness began against me in 1986, also comes in bipolar fucking
waves of on and off and on and off, and my LIFE CHARTS were actually
able to recognize this monstrous horrible truth, and reflect it back
as numbers and bar or lined graphic charts that would display
absolutely indisputable pictorial picture-graphs of this reality
that was suddenly going on around me, right after President Carter
confirmed to me in a wild nightmare dreaming experience that indeed,
I HAD DIED AND GONE TO HELL!!!!
Speaking
of physical assaults, my health has been struck today, and I
am not only being intentionally being disturbed and harassed by loud
unpleasant noises all around me, but I have been struck with another
nasty ass diareah assault on my pathetic body, Sheriff Kenneth
J. Mascara sir. Interesting how you have those same K.J.
McAllister Publishers Clearing House
1997 Prize Patrol Winner initials, is it naut, kind sit. Life
indeed is forever amazing, fascinating, and monstrously
inconceivably hellish, at least for me since
AUGUST 15, 1986, after I DIED AND WENT TO ETERNAL DOGTOWN,
huh Sir? One positive thing has happened to me however on this
BIPOLAR DAY, Sheriff sir, and I will mention it before moving this
onward with this vely vely vely intelesting subject of all COOLEY
H.H. HALL related mysterious items from my past to present sliding
hellishness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yessir and all other great
fantastic illustrious AATS BLOGAUDIANS; things did seem to move, as
Mister Jim Garrigan seemed to somehow recognize way back in 1970 at
the awesome Haddonfield, New Jersey Bancroft School for exceptional
special education children, at the great COOLEY HALL on Hopkins Lane
at KINGS HIGHWAY, in a very weird two directional way, unlike all
great Sally Starr 1998 WVLT microphones that I discussed that day on
her radio program that obviously the NEW PBS NETWORK would have
loved, since they seem to have gone bonkers and turned their station
into a country-music-only system in recent weeks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes
Mister Garrigan told me that I am always way off over here or way
off over there, and that the truth is always somewhere in the
middle. He said that I was always too far in the polarity range of
things and needed to find a truer middle ground closer to the
normally accepted ranges of parity. His words, not my words, and I
have a fantastic LONG TERM MEMORY. Only the short term memory is
losing ground over the past quarter century or so. This is why I
acted the way I did in the ocean at Atlantic City as discussed in
numerous previous blogs, and numerous other things also. It is even
connected to my wonderful kid's behavior. Patty was always doing
supernatural things that would scare her as a little child. She
would then compensate, not with 5555555 numbers to offset the
one-numbers that I refuse to even print in rows as I am aware of the
dire fucking cunt consequences that would result should I do this on
this blog pager and today is BOTBAR FUCKING ENOUGH folks;
BUTTERCHEESE and big ass BUTT but, she would then gravitate towards
watching scary shows and movies and even eventually developing a
split personality where that part of her would love those horror
shows with a passion. This developed what the head shrinkers world
calls BP disorder. Still, I think this entire fucking psych thing
has been overplayed ever since Sir Sigmund Freud started this nasty
mess. But who listens to my mother fucking opinions about anything?
Mountainpen doesn't know squat. Sure, right, tell me some other
nonsense. I told T.D. Ameritrade back several years ago that the Dow
Jones Averages would climb 5,000 points or so after the nation
elected my arch enemy and distant cousin, Donald John Trump, to be
the 45th President of the United States. I of course, as
always, picked that one RIGHT TO THE LETTER, and did things that
others couldn't do, huh lovely Jennifer Providence Avenue number 12
Washburn of Atlantic City of all Mister Kent wannabee types all over
the place??????????????? Yessir kind Sheriff, my one
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE positive on this otherwise very NEGATIVE or BOTBAR
DAY ON STEROIDS, is that I can now prevent my mother fucking
computer-mouse from displaying the page eleven of elven shit. It
happens when I scroll the page to better view the blog as the pages
keep changing as I keep typing on these blogs. All I need to do is
just keep typing my blog around the time that it is near to page
eleven, and then after it is well past page eleven, I can look for
any spellchecker error red wavy lines and correct them then. It is
not worth worrying about doing it and getting screwed by that wicked
bitch Mizz Fondabraves Baseball Parks. To me 1993 was yesterday, and
actually to me, 1973 was fucking just yesterday also.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT
folks; when you clearly remember
speaking to an almighty PINK GODDESS more
than thirteen-thousand years ago, in a
lovely garden over in that great bipolar city area, that
is separated by a narrow strait of water where Asia sits on one
side, and Europe sits on the other side of this non-magnetic polar
truth of endless opposites, a measly half century or less
seems to be a flash in the pan or a memory of the second gold rush
at the end of the nineteen-seventies. Beep beep, hot stuff, and
wonderful disco queens named we love the white
boys, Donna; all not
withstanding heredahelda, and here, yo!!!!!!!
Still,
the most powerful thing folks deny is the
impossible, you know, for lack of better verbal terminology,
'MIRACLES'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If
Christ were to come back today, he would be considered to be
'Mister Blaine' or 'Mister
Copperfield'. We all remember the great television show,
'Next Generation Star Trek',
entitled 'The Devils Due',
with that lovely Ardra! I said way back
in 1971 that super high technology or 'electronic powers', were what
was really going on with all things, even this so-called almighty
GOD of ours, AKA Sarah-Stacey Jehovah
Krassle, and yes, she even spelled out that great last
name of hers in that wild experience she gave me while I was
'sleeping' in December of 1969, you know Mister Childress, the exact
time the original Project Bluebook
was shut down, and I for one don't mother fucking believe in
coincidences, not like this one, YO!!! Miracles
are always explainable with super high technology. I spoke
those words in the early seventies, shortly after meeting Patty
Hollister's friend from Ziggy's jetty in Atlantic City who I have
called the alchemist in jest since I do not know who he truly was,
only that he could vanish into nowhere like the morning mists of
early September when the sun would slowly rise up to clear the
skies. Someone or something, Captain James Tiberius Kirk, in the
HALLS FAWCES ASTRAL WORLD GROUPATION
of ultra high energy entities (COINS AND COILS), wanted me to
HAVE ALL OF MY 'SEVENTIES' experiences, and of course my sixties and
eighties ones as well, as without these, the nineties would have
been meaningless, and thus, the GASME GAMES
would never had been able to have taken off and become the powerful
shit that it indeed did in fact become. Not just for me mind
you peeps, but for ALL OF YOU AS WELL. Until my 1802 Robin Hill shit
happened, nobody ever cared about their favorite artists BEFORE
they were the stars that they were, or BEFORE
any other magical dish cleaning liquids, or
Copperfield/Blaine/Donna Summer white-boy song
equations entered into any of the mixes, musical and not-so
musical mixes that is. This is simple
truth, and I know it. I don't need the approval of any
billionaires, playboy scumbags, musical artists, or fake cousins
named Funny-Face Dennis Snyder from up in Jersey; to
verify any of that for me, naut now, and naut any time soon, great
folks out here yo! I never have used anything that does not
belong to me. If I use something, it is MY OWN
PERSONAL PROPERTY, taken from conversations legally recorded in one
party consent states at the time of the recording, and
all of Quanico Labs can check it all out and verify it. I
don't have to hide from anybody, yo, not even Doctor Jekyll. No, I
don't know the proper spelling of that wonderful FEEBEE LAB, and no,
the goddamn Mike Soft Spellchecker system was of no help to me
either, so I spelled it as I've heard it pronounced from time to
time. I know I have seen it in print, but very rarely, not enough to
make that permanent etching into my conscious waking world memory
system. SO SAHWEE old ex-landlord Steve Caruso of Austin, Texas, and
to your coworker team as well.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
I
may not be the great Kid-Dy-NO-Mite-Jay-Jay Evans. There's no
dispute about this on my part, and so I won't even attempt to argue
it. Still, all of these things led to the Cooley
High, following my four year
stint at the Cooley Hall.
Yes, there are zillions of coincidences that I
do not believe in, and you may definitely count
this as one of them. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, are
there places where coincidences are indeed quite totally legitimate
and real? Of course there are. There is no
such thing as NEVER, not to an existor,
and we're all existors, or as Morianity calls us, “Purgatites”.
Before moving along with this, my nabes are annoying me this
Saturday afternoon with lots of doors and in and out activity.
ROACHES of course follow suit, and are all over the place; but this
is par for the gash darn stinking course, to quote my
late and great Aunt Geraldine
Snow
Mason! One nice thing is
that it's only freaking seventy-one degrees today, and the sun is
beginning to creep ever and ever lower now, in the middle autumn
skies; so it won't be getting hotter like it was yesterday while I
was out on some local errands, and making me perspire my dog gone
testicles off!
I
was in Atlantic City; and for
absolutely no reason whatsoever, I
was assaulted by these two
lifeguard mascot scumbags, and then mocked and jeered by the entire
beach patrol, along with the Atlantic
City Police Department; on that hot
summer day back in 1975. I know now that Paula King,
and Sarah Callio, and other local
forces, told these dudes to kick the
junk out of me that day. I
cannot prove this of course. But my point is that as these dirt
bag mother loving big butt dudes were roughing me up on the beach
that day, as well as scaring me to death later, on land, on Pacific
Avenue, right by a small motel that I ran into, and locked myself in
the bathroom, while the owners called the freaking cops for me; but
these dirt holes grabbed me around MY
NECK, symbolizing CHOKING
of course. Now anyone who meticulously studies the great
holy words that are written in the Christian
King James Version of the Bible, knows quite gash darn well,
that all throughout this great book, the entire theme of it is all
about great prophets, being given great
revelations, of great symbolizing messages; that pertain to a
time yet to come; where this Almighty God is planning to visit our
planet, as a human being; and I speak of
our LORD, JESUS CHRIST. The entire thing is about
symbolic messages of God's
journey to our world through the womb of a young lady; the blessed
Mary, mother of God. So if this entire thing is all about
SYMBOLISM, then please don't dismiss
stuff, when I say that all of this is totally major symbolically
connected, right down to this
assault on me, and my being
neck-grabbed or (CHOKED)!!!!! Thank You very much my kind
folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just
how many coincidences are just that, in my life, and how many are
not? my 1991 coworker Mister Arthur Crane, springs to my mind, as I
type that question out. He told me once, “Mark,
you're imagining very little if any of the junk that's happening
around you”. That's a quote, Mister Adam Schiff of 'L&O'.
I also don't believe the Quantum-World is loaded with random chance
items either, well, the majority of them anyway. They appear to
be random scientifically, yes. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT,
ARE THEY REALLY RANDOM????????? Was the library
hack in 2010 following the strange “BUT”
word on my daughter's 2009 movie, truly a RANDOM
item? You'll forgive this poor old dumb butt blogger, hopefully; for
not buying into that nonsense for a golly-gee whiz microseck,
because kind folks, I absolutely know, this
was no coincidence. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
on top of that, then this same wild hack got onto my MicroSUCKS
Spellchecker system a week or so ago. LIKE WOW and
like WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Before
I would even hope to seriously go on with the discussions of
symbolism, synchronicity, and coincidence, on a level where
an enlightened soul realizes that life does not contain such things,
but actually exists AS such things; I
would have to be totally convinced that a serious number of
Blogaudians, actually read books, written in the nineties by the
author and great Father of the New Age, Mister James Redfield.
Then we could have a much truer meeting of the minds, without
endless shadows of doubt being formed in the mind of my Blogaudians
as to, 'well, that's all just nut-case
whack-job Mountainpen's opinion'. Instead, you would then
come to realize, that a serious, and well
educated man; totally believes everything that I
am discussing herein. LORDY-LORDY-LORDY, the entire nasty ass
mess of one Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr can be summed up
almost as the king-ordered condensed soup of “They lived, they
suffered, they died”, only with one other small added touch in the
mix of great life's cooking ingredients. That is that some people
appear to be closer connected to the cosmos, and the cosmos appears
to be extremely BIPOLAR. Now taking this into a mental image for
further perusal and cogitation; we arrive immediately at the point
where a child in the middle of a Trump tantrum-rant can plainly and
clearly see even better than the world famous Mister Johnny Nash,
that Morianity had to come along in the 3rd Millennium,
and whatever it took to successfully engage and complete that
objective, well, it took, and it needed to happen. At least this
must be the mindset of those lovely HALLS
FAWCES. Please remember too, AATS folks; the HALLS
FAWCES are the COINS
and the COILS of the Purgatory, the
higher energy entities of the great unfathomable ASTRAL-PLANE.
The Milituforce on the other hand, is
the groupation of EARTHLY human beings
who know somewhat about all of this, and are doing all that they can
possibly do to keep the global population from ever becoming
enlightened to this inconceivable nightmare on endless buckets of
super steroids, cubed, Cuban, and again
re-squared!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
past few nights, I have been on the beaches
of Atlantic City, AGAIN, as well as on the Pennsylvania
Starburn property. The night before last, my older
daughter was there. She had purchased two boxes of some wild looking
exotic cheese, and was with myself and another person, and we were
walking around; and she asked me if I would do her a favor. I
am not able to safely blog any more about this wild experience,
other than to say that it was more vivid and lucid of a
dreaming-interaction, than even the ones that I
was having a lot in the later part of 2008, and into the year 2009,
while I was back living with her distant cousins, the Kings. David
Roth was also there, and was totally different than the past five
years or so in dreaming-interactions. I concluded that this is
because I was in that particular parallel
universe where I have Starburn
operating. Cousin Donald
was never born in that universe. Makes anyone who takes any of this
seriously, really wonder? When I wrote my book in
1994, called, “The Permission
Barrier”; I 'created' a lot of
'P4E' realities around me. I created hospital patients and
their bizarre behavior towards me, the Hammonton, New Jersey
automobile accident, and the re-airing of the great soap-show of the
sixties-'Dark Shadows' on the Syfy
Channel; to mention a mere slice in this wild esoteric bread
loaf! Phase 4 Entities or (P4E),
are Astral Plane entities (Purgatites),
who attempt while they dream out into this nuclear hyperspace, to
do it in cheated ways that make them superior to others,
in this dream here of waking life, or breaking other similar types
of rules in the Lawtronic system, that is built into everything.
Some have asked me, well then MOUNTAINPEN,
who built this? Let me tell you. The Lawtrons are
counterparts. We are the Lawtrons, asleep here while we
're-energize' so to speak. Einstein's great and trustworthy formula
in reverse, says that we need to eventually dream here because we
run out of our energy there, because Plank
time has the tiniest little bit of electron-mass and time inside of
it, just enough to cause energy expenditure after enough
endless Astral interactions. Those of us who
are in the minority, and attempt to dream here breaking the
rules; are no different than the
minority of criminals right here.
Their punishment is that instead of getting to dream the way the
rest of us do here; they become the
fantasy-part of the rest of us; such as our wildest dreams,
and all of the great things that authors write, and musicians
compose; the entire 9-yards, or 324 inches
as Morianity calls it. So with all of this said, when we
go to sleep and have dreams (dreaming-interactions), as
TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS; is this really
some random deal? The same people who think that life is all really
and truly just a jumbled up random of zillions of chance encounters
with events and situations would say YES.
I of course, the Mountainpen, SAY NO!
I do not buy into that random junk for a lousy teeny tiny wee
microseck; my kind folks!
Now
when we take a much larger picture of the entire fifth dimension,
we can see things a lot truer. Just as
inside any one universe, we, or those awake and alive; appear to be
living and interacting with those whom we know and deal with on a
daily basis, and things appear to have a large
cohesiveness to them, at least for the most part. We don't
suddenly drive down a road, and then the road turns into a gigantic
pizza pie. Fine. But that is only because we
ARE DEALING IN ONE REALITY, or parallel universe, inside of
the gargantuan fifth dimensional hyperspace that makes up our world
and universe, along with countless endless other ones. I
am not saying that becoming a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON,
won't allow us to indeed have more effect and control over our
larger fifth dimensional beingness,
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT I am saying, to
all Libraries and HACKERS everywhere; THAT
indeed, most of us mere mortals, living (dreaming)
out here, in the nuclear carbon programmed universe of eventuality;
are just exacting their beingness in a true fifth dimensional way,
and only aware of this fullness in
three-D. It is this lack of enlightened awareness that is
causing us all to be stuck in only three
dimensions, NOT some LAWTRONIC system that is like some
super cosmic cop. We are our own cops, on many
things that we don't realize this to be. We build many of
our own prisons. Morianity is hoping to
tear a lot of them down, eventually. Here's
to hoping!
AS
OF NOVEMBER 21, 2015
Global Audience In Shade Ratio Popularity:
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JANUARY
10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL HELL
BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!
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FROM
THE WEATHER CHANNEL (TWC)
REPORT
FOR FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, DPA, FKA (FORMERLY KNOWN AS), THE USA!
WEATHER
REPORT AT *********
Temperature:
-----------** D.F.
Heat
Index: --------------** D.F.
Humidity:
--------------**%
Sky
Condition :-----**********
Winds:
---- WITH GUSTS.
Predictions:
****************.
Moon
Phase: **********
My
upstairs fucking noisy pricks are moving furniture again. Speaking
of such dogshit, it might be the mother fucking maintenance crew.
They NEVER
CAME BACK HERE FRIDAY OR MONDAY
to give me the venetian blind replacements that they promised to
bring me. This hellhole shithouse is a real fucking trip, to use the
old sixties hippie-trippie-dippie expression from the past. I
am planning TO MOVE OUT OF THIS HORRIBLE FUCKING PLACE just as soon
as I can save enough goddamn fucking doe to do it,
SHERIFF K.J. Non McAllister Mascara, sir!!!!!!
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, BOM (Blogs Of Mountainpen)
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are
viciously persecuting me
FOR
THE PAST
TWO SOLID YEARS, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS
AND FORCES BEHIND THIS
ASSAULT ON ME NOW, ON
THIS 24 SEPTEMBER,
OF 2019; CAUSING ME ANOTHER DIAREAH
ATTACK , AS WELL AS THIS HORRENDOUS NOISE
ASSAULT ON ME, IN MY SURROUNDING
NEIGHBORHOOD, AND IN MY RESIDENCE
BUILDING, WITH FULL POWER ON THE UNIT #605 ENEMIES; on a
crush-destruct order, under
GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
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.
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=76d9d6ca-5432-41c7-a01e-53e908f96a61'
rel='stylesheet'/>
©
1983 Mark Wayne Mohr, private electronic-metaphysics program.
Yes
this shit seems to all be coming from where else BUT THE COCK
SUCKERS NEXT DOOR TO ME IN UNIT 605 AT THEIR ILLEGAL 605
CONSTRUCTION COMPANY APARTMENT, SHERIFF SIR!!!!!!!!!!!
SLAM-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM,
DRILLS,
HAMMERS,
IT THIS ABSOLUTLEY MOTHER FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE WHAT THESE PRICKS
OVER THERE IN THAT ENEMY APARTMENT DO CONSTANTLY AND MOTHER FUCKING
CONTINUALLY; YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, AND THIS IS INDEED A
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
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Hey
peeps, since my meter
scales
are going where they never went before, Captain
Shatner sir,
let me not be too fucking cowardly to add in this quick whittle
addendum into the mix of all of these words before I sign off of the
grid for the goddamn day, yo. Everyone who ever has become in any
way involved with me in any imaginable capacity of relationship, be
it a coworker, a friend, a business associate or partner, even an
enemy such as Mike Landlord Gutherman from Stratford, New Jersey,
across from the great illustrious John Fitzgerald Kennedy Hospital
on Laurel Road, have all said things to me along the lines of, and
this is a paraphrase rather than trying to quote from half a dozen
plus people over a period of four to five decades of time now; Mark,
what is it with you. All of a sudden things are all over the place.
One minute it is here, and then it is there, as in good old
nuke-opposites, that trustworthy HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE secret, ON MANY
FRONTS AND LEVELS. First,
we have, no not nothing,
Mister Moroder, Mizz Irene Cara, or Mizz skating rink dancer Jenny
Beils, BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT and that old big ass
trustworthy but; the secret of and behind absolute power also known
as (AKA) omnipotent power, by turning half one half of reality and
allowing the remaining half-part to then develop into ultimate and
absolute spin velocity, as discussed in a very small way in the
nineteen-eighties in a wild and extremely awesome fascinating
magazine article, in a publication that just about all of us know
and love and remember from way back in the early days of UFOLOGY and
BLUEBOOK, as the “SCIENTIFIC
AMERICAN MAGAZINE”!
And then we come to it. How
indeed COSMOS
itself IS a bipolar truth,
and that those human beings or supposed ones anyway, who mirror
image and reflect that cosmic like truth, indeed are closer to this
powerful cosmic stuff than the rest of us will ever be, or can or
could ever be!!!!!!!!!
One minute the mother fuckers bang on my door and are literally
DOGTOWN-BENT on repairing all the shit that has been wrong with this
apartment here in this P.H. Building of Redfield initial
synchronicity even if I do have to make that observation myself, but
then they turn right around half way through it, and just forget
about it as if they were never even here or could care in the least.
I have had countless hundreds and maybe thousands without worrying
about an exaggeration here folks, where people do this to me and
even tell me later, and this time I will quote them all, “Mark
I honestly do not know what made me do that or say that, or act in
that manner,
etcetera, etcetera”. I was promised venetian blinds and they
assured me that they would do a General MacArthur and RETURN, and
they of course NEVER DID, DOCK JEKYLL, as all they did was
HYDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! An ultimate endless example of cosmic
bipolar activity, if I must say so myself, and yes with or without
any 1986 wild songs that were most definitely NAUT appreciated, I DO
say it myself since human beings have a seemingly eternal mother
fucking aversion to ever GIVING ME MY RIGHTFUL CUNT HUFFING PROPS in
anything, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Any person alive reading these words who doesn't
totally and absolutely realize beyond a shadow of a mother puking
doubt that I could go on here for years without even breaking a
small sweat, must indeed have an intelligence quotient in the range
of upper sixties or low seventies at best. I can show you not only
things in my life but things in my daughter's life, and yessir, both
along these lines of the non-physical, and also in the physical
parts as well pertaining to my 1983 ATCO throat nightmare condition
and everybody from the mighty BonJovi family to the entire hip and
rap world knows that I can do JUST THAT. On fairness to my wonderful
kid, I would never ever go that far, but we all know this is not an
empty catchphrase of meaningless verbiage, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As I am
indeed forced to tell more here and there, I fully expect my red
line cross thermometer to go even more dangerously to the right
saturation levels!!!!
Sheriff
Mascara, kind sir; 'scammers' or whoever they are, call me on my
Comcast phone all the time, and tell me that my computer key is no
good or that my internet and files are compromised and numerous
other things. I have asked my local Staples Store about it and they
tell me it is ILLEGAL CRIMINALS trying to con me out of money, my
kind wonderful sir. What else is new? I've been taken and robbed all
my life by horrible filth bag jerk off crooks and criminals who
should be BURNING UP IN DOGTOWN,
AKA HELL!!!!!
I
have come to believe after months of not
hearing anything further, that the shit regarding the
Household Finance Company was
also nothing but an ILLEGAL SCAM;
SHERIFF KJM SIR!!!!! They said they
were going to sue me, and get a judgment against me, for
approximately eighty-two-hundred bucks.
No legal papers from your Saint Lucie County Court system ever
arrived at my door, nor was there any knock on my door from any
official court officer with certified paper court documents for me
to sign so that a case would then be filed.
HAMMERING-HAMMERING-HAMMERING; IT NEVER
EVER STOPS, SHERIFF; NOT EVEN ON A MOTHER FUCKING SUNDAY
MOUUUUUURNING!!!!!!!!!! This has to be a
mother fucking conspiracy to make me go completely off my cunt
eating nut!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This bullshit is
also bringing me non-ending cock roaches, and IT
IS NOT ONE BIT FAIR, KIND SIR!!!!!!!!
When
I was off the grid for a quarter of a decade from early in 2016
through middle of 2018, the MILITUFORCE had
quite a few of my blogs sent back into drafts and unavailable for
your perusal, for reasons they claimed pertained to
complaints about copyright infringements,
lewd and lascivious language, and other
technical matters that of course to a non computer geek, make
absolutely no sense whatsoever. Well
Sheriff Mascara, kind sir; I was able yesterday, to take all
these drafts and post them back as regular
readable blog posts. So since this was accomplished, there is
no need for me to bother wasting my time or effort, pasting in
whatever it was on those blogs that seemed to cause this problem for
me!!!!!!!!!!
Yessir
folks, sleeping in here at public housing on mornings and weekends
has virtually become impossible. Between operatic bouts of
Pavarotti imitations, drilling, hammering, and other loud ungodly
sounds, and even with ear plugs deep in my ears; the
sound is nearly deafening in here. Another wonderful fucking
weekend, huh Sheriff KJM.
Par for the course, or said in Morianity's way, SOSO-WEIN-SSDD!
WOW-WOW-WOW, big O!!!!!!!!!
Still,
the most powerful thing folks deny is the
impossible, you know, for lack of better verbal terminology,
'MIRACLES'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If
Christ were to come back today, he would be considered to be
'Mister Blaine' or 'Mister
Copperfield'. We all remember the great television show,
'Next
Generation Star Trek', entitled 'The
Devils Due', with that lovely Ardra! I said way back
in 1971 that super high technology or 'electronic powers', were what
was really going on with all things, even this so-called almighty
GOD of ours, AKA Sarah-Stacey
Jehovah Krassle, and yes, she even spelled out that
great last name of hers in that wild experience she gave me while I
was 'sleeping' in December of 1969, you know Mister Childress, the
exact time the original Project
Bluebook was shut down, and I for one don't mother
fucking believe in coincidences, not like this one, YO!!! Nobody in
ten thousand fucking cunt years will convince me that an entire
lifetime of being MADE ABSOLUTELY MISERABLE WITHOUT EVER ANY LET UP,
can be some ridiculous huge fucking random chance coincidence. If
this were happening to anyone of you out here, you would echo the
very same words right back to me!!!!!!!!!!
And
I will never forget July 7, 2015.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
who's fucking cock sucking kidding who. The
great
and powerful JAMES T. BURR
would
say
that
I am the bag guy in all of this.
He would preach to you that “I
got involved in the occult,
and God
is now allowing SATAN to punish me”.
How anyone in this world of advanced science can buy into this hocus
mother fucking pocus Frisbee twilight zone bullshit, totally amazes
me. But
then, I have been a victim of Christianity all of my life also,
being raised extremely staunch and austere with very rigid values in
that areas, sort of along the lines of the L&O character Jack
McCoy and his Saint Ignatius Catholic nuns as a school boy,
tormenting him, and causing him to feel the way he does about
spiritual fucking bullshit. Hey, hold your dick cum swallowing
horses now Nellie Girl, YO. I didn't say there is not some FAWCE out
there, as all of my cunt chewing fucking life, I
HAVE BEEN A VICTIM OF THIS ''SOMETHING OU THERE SOMEWHERE SHIT'',
and I know it is totally real. I just refuse to see this biblical
Satan/God fucking shit!!!
In
December
of 1982,
I was magically led at a dentist's office one day, to a magazine in
their waiting room, and an advertisement in it from the great
INTERNATIONAL
MOBILE
MACHINES
CORPORATION,
& now called the 'INTERDIGITAL CORPORATION',
displaying a fantastic telephone
screening machine
that would be perfect for someone like me, who was getting, even
back then,
lots of annoying
and weird telephone calls;
by forcing callers to enter what was called, a 'PRIVECODE
NUMBER'
in order to successfully complete their call and make the system
ring. Hence, the
reason for AT&T Annoyance Caller Bureau's
wonderful
Miss Blake,
in the following year. Even with the machine, the problem did not go
away, and thus in
May of 1983, I became connected with Miss Blake,
and the entire © Office has a copy of part of this nightmare deal,
even to this very day of 5 September up here in the year of 2019.
Whether this was the greatest three-hundred dollars that I ever
spent, or NAUT, it was most definitely the most wild and incredible
three-hundred dollars ever spent in the lifetime of the Mountainpen!
I had a very long way to go in my 'cosmic journey', Sir Count
Andreas Petofi, from those days and times, in so far as my knowing
what I know today. Still, I know basicly nothing at all. The same
major queries stare me down relentlessly, and perhaps always will
until the die that I physically die. Who exactly is this HALLS FAWCE
against me, and just exactly what did I ever do to them or anyone
else, to deserve their unfathomable mother fucking wrath on
hyper-steroids? My mind is indeed an open channel, and I've received
many wild 'thoughts and signals' since the days and times of the
great PRIVECODE MACHINE and its incredible and inconceivable after
effects. But I still am totally clueless to the two most intriguing
questions as listed above, and I believe that I will die in that
state of wonderment also. Even without this pressing weight and
pressure of this on my mind, MIND is still a form of absolute weight
and gravitation. The reasons for my saying as well as believing
this, cannot be summed up in one blog, short, intermediate, or very
lengthy. A
dozen years ago, some peeps in the scientific community were
discussing STG or space-time-gravity. They were were champions of
Morianity, and that is because MIND
IS
GRAVITY.
This may not seem to be a rational plausible possibility to many,
but I assure you that it is the truth. When a sufficient level of
mental pressure is reached as in the case with me while residing at
the Somerdale-Death-House
at 112 Harvard Avenue,
from the end
of August of 1996 through the end of March of 1998;
and I was going through the indescribable and unparalleled misery of
my recently additionally acquired burden, that we might call my
“SARAH
NIGHTMARE”;
I actually reached a level of pressure that caused what some in the
scientific community would perhaps think of as critical pressure, as
in critical mass in atomic physics. When I could not take one more
infinitesimal part of this excruciating intense agony, I suddenly
began to lift off of my bed one night in my bedroom, at this house.
I told this story at least one other time, on an older blog, back on
my
original PRE-FLORIDIAN-BLOGS.
On that night, I believed in STM, and I knew without fractional
hesitation, that indeed, MIND=GRAVITY.
Naturally this is much more complex and involved with countless
multiplexed scientific as well as humanly relatable situations, that
would take years to blog and who would ever read it all? Still, I
will move this along as the year of 2019 continues and closes out,
as we now are entering the beginning of its final third period in
time, that is in
the human illusion of
SPACE-TIME-MIND!
Actually AATS folks; MIND=ANTIGRAVITY
OR GRAVITATION IN A REVERSED MAGNETIC ATOMIC POLARITY FROM WHEREVER
YOUR MIND FOCUS PRESENTLY IS AT. One night while I resided at the
monstrous Satanic Somerdale 'DEATH HOUSE' as I've come to label and
term it as, I
was so completely out
of my mind
with beyond
clinical oppression
on my nightmare of finding the mysterious 'SARAH-TEEN'
from my boyhood past in good old fucking rotten ass ATLANTIC CITY,
NEW JERSEY,
that I
actually lifted up off of my bed.
Of course the APA would insist that this was a natural mental mind
phenomenon caused by the abnormal oppression and obsession on this
one item for numerous months, and that part is all true and I don't
deny it for one fucking second. But I do not see this as an illusion
nor as some psychotic feature. I lifted off of my bed every bit as
actually and literally as I spun that Crystal Lake Diner rotisserie
backwards that night in 1995 when I was there with my pal Mister
David Charles Roth. When MIND divides by light speed squared back in
the Purgatory, it becomes physical brain and begins dreaming that it
has recently been humanly born and is now living in a caporial way
here on the Earth-Planet. We all lose energy after virtually
limitless interactions on this Astral Plane Purgatory, and we dream
out and away from there as our energy becomes divided by C-SQ. This
same knowledge and wisdom was actually given to the great physicist
Albert Einstein as he would do those mental-image things in his head
leading to his 'discovery' of relativity and his famous formula.
MIND escaping its bondage and becoming a hyperspace dream is a
blowing out or a BIG BANG. It was done with me in that house of
horrors that night in a small way. It also is done by all of the
Purgatites at various stages, and thus, we had the BIG BANG or
creation of our cosmos. I absolutely know for a fact that these
words spoken on these blogs are true and real and cannot be
disputed. So far the few absolutes that I now have are as follows: I
exist and time is an illusion. I left Purgatory after running out of
energy. I now dream out here in this banged-out hyperspace. MIND
is reversed GRAVITATION.
The so-called dark matter and dark energy concepts of the
cosmologists are in actuality and truth, nothing more than mind
coming out into the hyperspace dreams, and going back again.
Actually, the real truth is that we do not go back since we never
truly left the timeless Astral Plane. We exist there, we dream here,
we focus here in the one third triune part of our soul-self and call
these our lives and our life-times, and our dreams as all dreams
must, end eventually. We do not wake up and we never left there, the
dream is simply over. Gravity is nothing more than mind in motion.
That motion is why our dreams create the motions of separation.
These separations are in units of spaced out times or distances,
inches, minutes, light years, or millennia, and it is all the same
shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not
only the great COOLEY HH HALL educators themselves were unfathomable
and beyond hot ass wild, but so were the things spoken and done BY
THEM, from Dave Smith, to Marola, to Garrigan, to Marcucci the great
Liverpool Count, to Dock Knight, to Dock Faulk, to Eckstein; and on
and on I can go 'heel'. Still, Sheriff
Mascara sir,
if
you can provide me EVER,
with some fantastic and or rational explanation, to why
Marcucci took me out into the hallway,
beyond earshot of my classmates, one autumn day in 1969, and said to
me, and I quote him absolutely verbatim here, “You
know Mark, you could be a father, chronologically”,
well, and yes out of the blue with nothing that would remotely have
prompted him making that incredible statement, please
sir; go right ahead and give it to me!!!!
I'd weelwee wove to heel lit, and yes silwee Wabbit, I weelwee
would, Mister Elmer Fwudd sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-Alligator Haters Anonymous!!!!!!!!! Boy do I have
one hell of a hyperactive Mister Dock Lockner Flint Star Trek
Rhytalin 'IMAGINATION', in or out of all hyper
space
mechanic
musical
high schools.
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