NUMDWATATES
NOTE C2
1:48
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
THURSDAY
NORNING
26
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:
Thursday,
September 26, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WANING CRESCENT 5:6
N.M.
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WNG6
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WNC5
WNC6 N.M.
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I
AM UNDER A MOTHER FUCKING MAJOR DEATH SIEGE ASSAULT AGAIN SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA, KIND SIR. IT BEGAN AT SHORTLY PAST ONE OF THE
CLOCK ON THIS COCK SUCKING TOTALLY DISEASED
MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING!
This
assault started with my not being able to operate my
video DVD machine's remote control to go from TV to the DVD
function, which I did following nothing being worth watching on
zillions of available channels. The remote control system does not
need new batteries, as I placed brand new ones into my remote system,
and it still was non operational for about a fucking cunt minute,
then suddenly, it worked again, with the new as well as the old
batteries. THIS WAS SOME KIND OF A REMOTE
INFRARED HACK FROM BLACK
HAT MILITUFORCE
COMPUTER HACKERS.
Then after I began to blog, my computer would freeze up every time I
tried to fucking cunt SAVE my document,
which I do every few sentences now, ever since the MILITUFORCE
proved to me that they can just invisibly shut down my entire
computer at will, and they used to do this often back in 2015
and into early 2016, until I went off
the grid for a quarter of a mother fucking decade. A few fucking
sentences back I also just got HACKED AGAIN
with a 'SHORT-FREEZE-ATTACK-HACK',
Mizz Lattisaw; and when this happens, and I fail to vigorously check
and read every single word I type, this is when you
see that shit on my blogs that attempts to discredit me,
when shit is all missing or weird, and totally fucked the Christ
up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This time I managed to
repair it, and I will try and check out my blog before posting
this one, as THIS IS A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING
ASSAULT AND HACK, AND MILITUFORCE
STRIKE ON ME THIS MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING!!!!!
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 ON
THIS HORRIFIC
26 SEPTEMBER
OF 2019, WITH MAX-POWER
AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND
THE ASSAULT ON ME NOW, WITH THIS MONSTROUS UTILITY AND ELECTRONIC
ATTACK ON ME, 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.
THERE
ARE GOING TO BE SOME REAL SORRY MOTHER FUCKERS OUT HERE IN THE COMING
WEEKS FOR THIS HELLISH NOBN STOP DEATH SIEGE ON THIS PATHETIC ELDERLY
SENIOR MOTHER FUCKING CITIZEN, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
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YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
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YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am under a bad assault today, by the mother fucking MILITUFORCE
and their evil demonic oppressions and life destruction's, on or off
of all 1970 farms from then onwards,
Mister DLS from Cooley Hall HH,
sir; IT'S TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING REAL, AND TRUE, AND HORRENDOUS;
SHERIFF
KENNETH
J.
MASCARA,
KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please allow me to tell you what is happening to me, oh wonderful
sir,
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,
Mister Arthur TCE CRANE, here we go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Every
mother fucking time that I come out of a MAJOR
VIVID
NIGHTMARE, and then begin
to interact here in the 'waking world', I GET
MOTHER FUCKING totally pummeled, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo; AND
THIS HAS BEEN AN ONGOING REALITY FOR ME
EVER SINCE AUGUST THE MOTHER FUCKING
DICK EATING FIFTEENTH, IN THE YEAR OF
1986; ME KIND SHERIFF KJM, SIR!!!!!!! I
get off the other anxiety medication, and so now THE WALGREENS STORE
IS HARASSING ME WITH ANOTHER MEDICATION SHORTAGE, the other
anti-anxiety prescription that I take, that is NOT
A NARK DRUG, so it has nothing to do
with that other medication that the MILITUFORCE
does not wish me to use, to lessen their agony on me, with
that inner throat implant device, they
somehow have stuck into me while I lived in Atco in 1983, back in the
4th
of June. I sure hope you are watching that wonderful television
documentary on Tuesday nights, called “PROJECT BLUEBOOK”,
ME KIND
WONDERFUL SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ME
COMPUTER WAS JUST BLACK HAT FROZEN AND HACKED AND FUCKED
WITH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Time for some counterstriking with me wonderful
whittle MAGGIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You've had it, WORLD!
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I
AM UNDER ANOTHER SUPER DAMN DEATH ASSAULT SIEGE,
MY WONDERFUL AND HOPEFULLY KIND SHERIFF, KENNETH
J. MASCARA, SIR, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!
THE
MILI-2-FAWCES ARE HACKING THE
HELL OUT OF MY COMPUTER, AND I HAVE FALLEN
UNDER A MAJOR DEATH ATTACK, SIR; AND IF
ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME IN THIS APARTMENT TODAY, I WAS MURDERED
BY ALL OF THE FORCES AND
PEOPLE THAT THESE EVIL TURD CHEWING FORCES ARE USING ON AND AGAINST
ME, AS MENTIONED AND FULLY DESCRIBED
ON THIS 13-PLUS YEAR BLOGGING WORK OF THE
BOM!!!!!!!!!
(BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LINKS
TO MY ORIGINAL BLOGS OF THE BOM:
SIMPLY
PUT SHERIFF MASCARA KIND SIR, THIS JUST CANNOT BE SAID ENOUGH
TIMES:
The
few things that are not completely 'dot-connected'
yet, I truly believe will be, once that marvelous PROJECT
BLUEBOOK show is completed, if HALLS
FAWCES/MILI-2-FORCE
permits them to fully air it. This
Fascitar Astral Projection information was to get me primed for
'CONTACT', and then, to quote
Doctor
Emil Farmers Skota of 'L&O', “I was
cleared for takeoff”! Oh
yessir, Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara, simply put my friend, “THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
“THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
“THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
“THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
“THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
“THAT'S
THE WAY IT GOES”
©
1969 MARK WAYNE MOHR
It
all began at once when I's too happy to see
that
something really bad was gonna' happen to me.
You
planned it all and now you're just a watchin' with glee
while
something really bad is now a happenin' to me
but
that's the way it goes.
Long
ago I felt that somethin' awful was wrong.
Never
dreamin' now that I'd be singing my song.
I
only wish to God that you'd just let me be free.
And
stop these awful things that now are happenin' to me.
But
that's the way it goes.
And
that's the way it goes
That's
the way it goes
That's
the way it goes
And
that's the way it goes.
AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
MICHAEL CRIGHTON, WITH ALL OF OUR THRILLS AND JOYS FROM HIGH SCHOOL,
AND LOVELY PEEKAY'S!!!
What
a horrible fucking world we live in, YO!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
BUTTERFIELDS
PHARMACY
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, on Kings Highway,
PHONE
NUMBER (772) 489-3700
Across
from the Winn Dixie Plaza Mall
My
following blog will
tell some more about major hidden (occult) things, Mizz
Patricia Hollister,
and others in the FEE-FREE
system of the 06-07
times, yo!!!! COUNT ON THAT, EVIL EMPIRE AND EVIL MILI-2-FORCE!!!!
These
monster mother fucking subskummite shit licking cock suckers from
Dogtown are really POURING
IT ON ME.
I took a lot of loud neighborhood music car attacks back on
Wednesday, as well as this horrendous fucking assault that began just
into the early part of the second hour of the following day, today,
Thursday, YO BRO!!!!!!!
Now
somebody
out here is going to be verily fucking sorry for this DEATH ASSAULT
ON ME
TODAY, SHERIFF
SIR,
AND YESSIR, IPYT IN GODDESSDAMN SPADES, CUBED AND CUBAN, AND THEN
RE-SQUARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
I get into my retaliatory
specifics
here however folks, let me also tell you that I
had to do a little fucking bathroom floor cleaning yesterday,
before all was said and done and after I posted up the last blog, as
I
WAS GIVEN ANOTHER NASTY 'CUBAN-SONIC-POISON-CHEMTRAIL-WHATEVER'
ATTACK,
that
blows your bowels apart
with an
invisible milituforce weapon,
that leaves ABSOLUTELY
NO TRACE WHATSOEVER,
nor does it kill a person, as I have been a victim of this nightmare
fucking weapon ever since 1986, and so we are talking living through
double the age that I was then now, so no Sheriff sir, whatever it
is; IT
DOES
NOT
KILL
but it sure as mother fucking shit hurts,
and causes a lot of messy fucking clean up jobs to be necessary.
Needless to say it
wipes out a person's entire life as well.
How can you plan a normal life around enemies that use weapons of
destruction such as this against you and you can never ever get any
kind of vindication??????????????????????
Yes
I was thinking about you sir, this week.
Yes great Sheriff KJM, I am sure you know if you researched me and my
blogs at all in any detail, that there was a horrific double
murder/suicide in my family back in the late nineteen-forties, up in
Braintree, Massachusetts, just as what occurred in your lovely county
a few days back in Port Saint Lucie. I was thinking of both you and
the great cousin Huntington's when I saw that shit on the news. Our
family is filled with murders, incest, mental woes, and so much more.
You haven't heard nuttin' yet, kind sir, naut nuttin', and
IPYT!!!!!!!!!!!! ButTERFIELDS
and big ass BUTT but,
for now, let me move on with some MAJOR
COUNTER PUNCHING COUNTER-STRIKES.
This
involves two possible major targets and players in my Milituforce
nightmare,
the ASTRAL
GASME
GAMERS
starring me, the Mountainpen, in their wicked diseased 'late-late
Astral-Plane Show' of ULTIMATE
MONSTROUSNESS,
and also, the two things that I
remember most about the day
that the Goddess
Paula King's great ASTRAL-TUNE called “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”
or LOIS FOCA for short, was dreamed into my life on the first week of
June, exactly three years before the mighty HALLS
FAWCES and the MILITUFORCE
decided to do whatever they did to me in ATCO,
NEW JERSEY,
to attempt to choke
me slowly to death,
was recorded
on a guitar at my 1802 Robin Hill apartment, early in 1981;
where two
things were said to me by a world renown Musical Arranger,
or a dude who shortly thereafter had become quite renown, Mister
TOM GLENN,
of good old NEW JERSEY, USA!!!!!!!!
So
first with the GASME-GAMERS
of the PURGATORY.
Somewhere between 2012
and 2014,
and it is very hard with some huge things to pick exact spots and
times down to the small nth degrees, but sometime in that time frame;
these
fucking FAWCES
no longer interacted with me in the same way that they had done all
of my life before this time,
and this was most definitely marking a very bright line in the sand
that showed and depicted without any hesitation, doubt, or
trepidations, that beyond any possible chance of this being in my
imagination, I was not being interacted with the same way that I had
been before this time. Before this time, I knew as sure as pig shit
stinks to unholy fucking hell that something was playing games with
me when I would go outside of my residence. Then poof, even though I
still get harassment in the air and property damage and many other
similar things that I had taken in the past with my M2F enemies, and
I would have to be the fucking cunt eating epitome of a goddessdamn
retard not to see two powerful and non-ignorable correlations here
that come out at me like dynamite going fucking off in my hand,
folks!!!!!!! The first of these two things is that
wild “GITYA” non-Blondie-1801 song that I wrote in 1983 while in
Atco
as you all know I am sure, and then rewrote it in 2012, and changed
the lyrics, and a few basic notes and chord alterations were also
made, but
it was almost the same tune.
Before I go on here, this is now the mother fucking FIFTH
DEATH ANGEL ASSAULT
on me since this early morning assault began shortly past one of the
cock sucking clock. But back to the song. In
2013, I recorded this song over at Ron BonJovi's second cousin Tony
BonJovi's small recording studio in Port Saint Lucie,
and I used an
early 1984 telephone conversation
as the harmony
track
after a vocoder
machine stripped the voice on my daughter's tape
onto an electronic musical system, where the notes from there, can be
pitched to make matching harmony sounds with my vocals, that sang the
main vocal track to the song, renamed and re-copyrighted, “You'll
Be Crossing Over”.
Extremely powerful shit connects my original 1980 demos done at
Maxfield Studio in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USA, this song done at
BonJovi's Studio, Tom Glenn the Musical Arranger who arranged all
four of my songs despite the copyright Office being in cahoots with
the Beegee group when they stole my “LOST LOVE” song in the
summer time of 1980, my nearly choking to death and physical torture,
the 2008 dreams of being in that Atco house, and yet this place
without
any assist from any Bellflowers
or Tobycouches,
being connected with the great Judge
Frank Raso
and his KING
HOUSE rental property, at 65 MIDDLE ROAD,
in Berryville-Hammonton, 'hang-in-there-Paula-WAYV,
a quarter of a century in the future, and where my daughter had a
'medical problem' and was coming there to discuss it,
and Dawn
King
was the heavy-set receptionist sitting at a desk, and yelling at
people for slamming doors, when
it was the wind all along doing it,
and then that
all came literally to pass after the dreams, several months
afterward.
Time does not run the same way in varying parallel and alternate
realities/universes. Don't even get me fucking started right now with
all of that, as it will take fucking cunt years to get into many of
the details to all of these things, including
and still NAUT LIMITED TO mighty PAULA KING and her entertaining me
in 1980 outside of the Tennessee Avenue Frailenger's Salt Water Taffy
Store,
where benches used to be, and then were brought back for a short
while in the middle late nineties while
I was on my fantastic and unfathomable search to locate the
mysterious teen-queen from my past who I thought was named SARAH,
and now, I don't fucking know anything, and I'll admit it to all of
you right here and right now, lovely Lieutenant Anita L&O
VanBuren!!!!!!!! There also is more than just this fish song about a
greedy fisherman from Stone Harbor, New Jersey who I had met and
crossed paths with one day in the summer of 1971 when my mother and I
took a bus down there from the Dellway Arms Apartments where we
resided when I was in my late fucking teens, and the lyrics talk
about how greedy he was and how he acted when a poor starving family
came along and asked him for just a couple of fish so they could cook
a stew up for the family since they had not eaten in two days, and he
practically told them to get lost and quit bugging him or he'd throw
them all right off the mother fuckign jetty. That is not something a
teenager is likely to put out of his mind, and no, I didn't, and yes,
I wrote a song about it, BUTTERFIELDS and BUT, without any exotic
cheeses bought or eaten on any great marvelous non-trumped STARBURN
PROPERTY in Pennsylvania, and not off of New Jersey's weird twisted
up country lane called Route one with or without great impersonal
mathematicians like Sir David Leigh Smith from the illustrious COOLEY
HIGH HELL HALL, of non Microsoft Spellchecker helicopters!!!!!!!!!!
Oh no folks, that super fucking weird time period between 2012 and
2014 somewhere, yo, is nothing to take lightly or sneeze at, while
eating boxes of scrumptious exotic cheeses OR NAUT, MIZZ
BLAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So moving this along here, this was also the
period of the TRUMP-BONDI-COVERT-NARK-SQUAD
assault
on pathetic little Mister Mountainpen,
where the very needed medicine that I had faithfully been taking
since early middle July of 1983 somewhere, until this period of time,
was going to be forever cut off from me with no good rational reason,
leaving in in great fear and lots of agonizing feelings for at least
two years. I do not tink the enemy M2F thought that I would even live
through their vicious covert attack on me, BUT
HA HA HA HA HA, Sir Icabod non Gillerlain Crane WHO,
because I
mother fucking cock sucking DID,
YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the deal with TOM
GLENN,
the Musical
Arranger
is as complex, I assure you all, especially the open minded audience
of the Ancient
Astronaut Theorists Society
that hopefully will exist someday, if it does not officially exist
already; as is the subject of both the wild
four demos
done right as I was moving into that wild TOBYCOUCH APARTMENT of 1802
Robin Hill, and the several months thereafter, finding out that Mike
Walters the RPL Printer, had given me two really magical 33-album
vinyl records, one of Karen Carpenter, and one of Donna Summer,
along with the strange dude who pulled out in front of me while
driving home from the RPL Sound Studio that morning after pulling a
12-hour shift doing extra work for the mighty Sir Pat Robertson and
his 700-Club, as we were his main cassette duplication source and we
did many millions of copies of his religious tapes. For anyone who
doubts any of this, LAWTRONICS made sure to influence me to use what
Morianity calls and labels, HISTORY MARKERS, and the United States ©
Copyright Office has copies of many musical projects where you can
plainly hear the voice of Mister Robertson on several of those tapes
that I sent in for registration of my songs. This nutcase who pulled
out in front of me at some railroad tracks just a mile from the
apartment while I was on my way home to catch some Z's in-between two
twelve hour shifts during Mister Robertson's tape drive that happened
several times annually, made me slam on my breaks and those 33-album
vinyls went all over the entire front passenger seat floor area, and
the original pile that they had been stacked in was totally different
now. I never listened to all of these records, and if the arrangement
of them had been what they originally were before this asshole pulled
out that morning, I most likely never would have listened to those
two records. It is half past four of the clock, and a LOUD ANNOYING
FIRE ALARM IS GOING OFF NOW AT THIS BUILDING here at 601 Avenue B, in
fort Pierce, Florida, DPA-ESMWG, AKA the USAESMWG, before Washington,
DC-13-600 went completely and totally off its mother fucking nut at
light speed squared, BRAH! Anyway, when Tom Glenn the Musical
Arranger who did all four of my arrangements on all four demos,
despite the lying Copyright Office insisting LOST LOVE's arrangement
was not, because it was that arrangement that the BEEGEE group had
stolen and their song had been taken off the air when I called the
Philadelphia attorney Mister Malcolm Rosenberg to complain and later
brought in my proof to his office and he almost shit himself along
with his law partner that day, but the mighty fucking GIBBS have lots
of power, and then they somehow managed to get the © Office to be
complicit in their illegal manipulation of the facts, sort of like
what President D.J. Trump is so famous for doing now in these present
times up here, and this is why the Copyright info page shows only
three of my four demos from 1980 as arranged by Mister Glenn. This is
powerful when we take all the other shit that I remember about what
mister Glenn spoke to me that day at that apartment when he did LOIS
FOCA for me. I told it all before, but
allow me to rehash, if you goddessdamn
PWEEEEEEEEEEEEZE!!!!!!!!
He
was convinced that I was a fagot, and all
because my lyrics to another song that I shared with him, and told
him that I wanted him to help me with next, after I could save up
enough money to pay him for his services later that year in 1981, and
those lyrics said things such as “Boy,
you bring me thrill and joy”,
but crissake yo,
it
was written for a girl to sing,
and I
cannot be the only songwriter in the history of fucking music
to
be a guy who wrote a song for a female artist to vocalize.
Sheriff
sir, it is now 4:41, and the FIRE ALARM HAS BEEN DEACTIVATED BY THE
LOCAL LADDER COMPANY.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
THAT!!!!
So moving back to me whittle 'pernt' here Sir
Archibald Bunkerqueens;
this seemed to be a really big thing for him, and he
did not believe my true story about my 'fire song' as he called it,
as it was in fact titled, “BURN
WITH FIRE”.
Speaking of fire, there is both a firetruck and an ambulance outside
my window, so whatever happened here, it was more than a smoke system
going off in somebody's fucking apartment, yo BRO!!!! There is even
more to all of this, and I will tell more as more shit is done to and
against me by this diseased demonic wicked mother fucking
MILITUFORCE!!!!!!!!!!!! For right now however, kind folks yo, we will
discuss another conversation between him and me that fateful day in
early 1981 over at the Tobycouches Apartment of all great Robins and
Hills everywhere, 1802, and this one was about types of music and
favorites, and numerous such related musical topics of conversation.
I mentioned to him at that time, that I liked all types of music but
not that many songs, only a select few that I thought had something
really special to them, and that the only type of music that I did
not like was opera. He then gave me a really wild look and he said to
me, “That is only because you never got into it, it is the most
beautiful music of all”. He is right, and I know this now, but as
the old saying goes people, “That was then, and this is now”. He
made a comment that I dismissed but it haunted me greatly that future
late spring while I was driving to a place that existed in that time,
called the Atlantic City Recording Studio. It is way too complex and
lengthy to even try and get into the details right now, and other
blogs will indeed do just that. But I will scratch a little bit of
this surface and won't give anyone an excuse for cursing me out and
accusing me of leaving them high and dry in mid-air. He said
something that seemed completely off the wall after saying that first
thing to me. He was still looking at me very sternly however. Then,
even though it will be a paraphrase, I will give you a very best
recollection, that may not be a quote, but it definitely says in my
own words, just what Tom Glenn wanted to impart to me on that cold
winter day. It was along the lines of opera telling stories and
mostly being in foreign languages so the lyrics go without being
understood unless the listener is bilingual and fluent in the
language of the opera piece which is usually Italian. He then
concluded with the weirdest part of all. It was along the lines of
saying that for all I know, friends and even family may be part of
the opera world. I remember saying to him, I had an aunt who could
sing opera. He then went on again with something that went sort of
like, I think you have other people who you have even forgotten
about, who are part of opera as well. I remember just looking at him
with what mustr have been a lot of shock and amazement on my face,
and I was absolutely cluess then, what he was talking about. Now I DO
KNOW that lovely Patty HH Hollister was a wonderful opera singer,
even better than my aunt. But again in reiteration, “That was then
and this is now”. THEN, it makes just no sense whatsoever that
Mister glenn seemed to know something, and on top of that, seemed
incapable of saying more and yet seemed to want to. When reading
accounts of UFOLOGICALLY connected stuff, it talks about beings who
pass themselves off as human and know way more than they should or
would have any rational way of knowing, and yet, they have trouble
doing the simplest fucking things, even tying their shoes or
unlocking a door with as fucking Safka key for crissake. I know that
Tom knew about Patricia Hollister. It was her who I wrote the BURN
WITH FIRE song about, and hoped in my secret bnoyhood fantasies
wiould even sing it for me someday, and then as I grew older and
grew up, I just put lots of shit like this out of my conscious mind
forever, well, nayut really forever. Still, it seems that someone or
something DOES NAUT WANT ME to forget these boyhood things, and has
literally done many things to bring it all back in this century for
me, at least ever since they kner that I was on that wild magical and
inconceivable quest to locate the mysterious teenager of the
nineteen-sixties, the GREAT SARAH KRASSLE, AKA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH
KRASSLE, and yes, the great 1997 rock song was a direct result of my
copyrighting those three tunes for lovely SARAH, and they wanted me
to get a message to them quite obviously, telling THEM
MY THOUGHTS ON HER, you know, on the great PINK GODDESS FAWCE
that surrounds our 'HUUUUUUUUUUUGE'
Milky Way Galaxy,
or at least as told by the Roddenberry Crew,
and now seemingly reechoed and reiterated by the STAR
WARS PEEPS and their mighty HALLS FAWCES!!!!
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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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