NUMDWATATES
NOTE U1
12:47
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON
17
SEPTEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
Sep
2, 2019 6:00 AM – Sep 9,
2019 5:00 AM
|
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
Wednesday,
September 17, 2019
CURRENT
PHASIE IS: WANING GIBBOUS 4:7
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.
Roaches
and hammerers are a non ending hell in this mother fucking hellhole.
A fire alarm woke me at quarter past four this morning, and at 12:41
my dirt bag hammering TRIAD NABES FROM FUCKING
HELL STRUCK AGAIN, hammering on my wall and ILLEGALLY SCREWING
WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
IS WHY I HAVE ENDLESS DISGUSTING MOTHER FUCKIG CUNT LAPPING DIRTY
DISEASED COCK ROACHES, SHERIFF, SIR!!!!!
WEATHER
REPORT AS OF 1:18 P.M.
MONDAY,
16 SEPTEMBER, 2019
TEMPERATURE-
CURRENT
SKIES-
WIND-
HEAT
INDEX-
VISABILITY-
HUMIDITY-
BAROMETRIC
PRESSURE-
DEWPOINT-
PREDICTIONS-
We
can skip today's weather, as we all know that Fort Pierce is mostly
hot and hellish, with an occasional miserable hurricane or other
nasty mess. The
whole mother fucking world can go straight to DOGTOWN!!!!!!!!!!
Yes,
my LEGALLY CREATED photobucket photo is all blured out on my office
document files, by way of some rotten fucking WALL STREET PAID OFF
AND MILITUFORCE BLACK HAT HACKER, SHERIFF MASCARA, KIND SIR, AND I AM
UNDER ANOTHER ASSAULT THAT BEGAN AT JUST PAST FOUR THIS
MOUUUUUUUUUUURNING!
I
sure wish you'd goddamn help out an old diseased dying and totally
fucking pathetic old man, Sheriff Mascara sir!!!!!!!!!!!!
BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, and yes, BUTTERCHEESE too
Spellchecker, I won't expect any fucking nice whittle miracles in
here or in heredahelda either, yo BRO!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you
CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST.
Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you
CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST.
Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you CRAZY-COMCAST. Thank you
CRAZY-COMCAST.
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Welcome.Bienvenido.Bienvenue
Shade
ratio displays blog hits, based on international
popularity. This of course is no longer currently available for
CAPPING INTO CURRENT BLOGS. GEE, I
wonder why?
http://theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/
Click the link ABOVE and view all of me blogs.
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Introduction
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Being
one of perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going
back far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal
with an extremely unpleasant situation.
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When
you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll drown?
Well,
I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I
am the one in 1984, from Highland Avenue. Oh boy, Patty and
friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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My
following words 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!!!! THE MILITUFORCE JUST CRASHED MY CUM PUKE HER, SHERIFF
SIR, AT 1:03 P.M., KIND SIR. HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TOSTAND IDLY BY
AND PERMIT THIS ILLEGAL ELDER ABUSE ON ONE OF YOUR CITIZENS HERE IN
YOUR COUNTY, OH GREAT WONDERFUL AWESOME SIR?????????? Yes folks, we
WILL BE DISCUSSING THE GREAT
AND POWERFUL MAGICAL LADY ON THIS BLOG, AKA PATRICIA
HOLLISTER
OF GLOUCESTER CITY,
AND MANY
OTHER CITIES
AS WELL,
& AS WELCOME.Bienvenido.Bienvenue.
Yes, good old Microsoft Spellchecker. SAY IT MIKE MCNULTY, GO AHEAD
AND FUCKING CUNT EATING SAY IT, YO! AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA,
and it ain't even fucking 1971 any longer, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOW
THAT, ALL JOANNA'S.
NOT
ENDocrinologists, AND END TRANSMISSION.
BUTTERCHEESE
AND BUTT, BIG ASS TYPE, WE
WILL NOW CONTINUE ONWARD;
OH GREAT AND WONDERFUL, AND TOTALLY ROTTEN PAULA KING, QUEEN
OF ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY!!!!
CLICK
BELOW TO LINK INTO ORIGINAL BLOGS.
I
AM A 'HANGING
IN THERE' HUNTINGTON,
P.K.
I
AM A 'HANGING IN THERE' HUNTINGTON, P.H.
NO
WILDFIRES PERMITTED, SIR UNCLE SNOOTS HEINZ GOTTWALD OF BABYLON, NEW
YORK!
On
the Astral Plane of existence,
there is a large city in the capitol province of Olympia, and it is
called, when translated into Earth Planet English Language,
HYDROGLACIA. All of the stars
that we perceive in the skies in our waking reality, are indeed
astral cities back in the Purgatory. Do I truly
believe that I was semi-awake when I was 'contacted' by this
incredible star, not once, but TWICE? YES.
That is how CONTACT is usually made, when we are SEMI-AWAKE, or
SEMI-ASLEEP, depending on if you wish to say it one way or the
other way. When contact is made between ASTRAL ENTITIES and human
beings here, while dreaming off of the Purgatory; as long as it never
goes beyond the acceptable and very heavily Milituforce
governed semi-awake contact, or as Morianity calls it, 'acceptable
contact' Go ahead and try to stop me from getting some major
revenge for this goddamn assault on me, PROJECT
AIR FORCE BLUEBOOK
CLUB!!!! “If you ever open up your
mouth about this, we won't give you a
moment's peace for the rest of your
lives”.
If you don't believe me, contact the mother fucking television
station in NYC, WPIX, and verify it, IF YOU
STILL CAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
only problem left in all of my overturning of stones project is this
one. I am fully willing to forget all of the
things that happened to me and never talk about it, if the
Milituforce would allow me a normal
life, but THEY WILL NOT. Maybe it
is the point of no return syndrome,
where once you know too much, you are a threat to their new world
fucking Orwellian Order. Who can even really fucking know, me peeps?
So
let us now discuss Patty-H, as well as
Privecode, Hydroglacia,
and other such related fucking topics; me folks of the Shamrocks, and
other kind Blogaudians!!!!
We
have talked about my purchase of a
machine called the PRIVECODE,
invented by a company called the International
Mobile Machines, Incorporated, which
later on became the Inter-digital
Corporation. This machine was delivered to me some time in
early or middle December of 1982, if I am at all correct; right
around the very same time that I had met three beyond weird human
beings, at a place called Warwick
Auto
Sales, in Magnolia, New
Jersey, owned by a private airplane owner by
the name of Mister Everett Simpson. In that place, I also came
to meet the other two nut jobs, Mister Herby
Letts, and Mister George Belton.
All things fit together in huge major ways, such as Herby and his
lasers to the moon, and his perpetual motion machine, and many other
such nightmares. First off, Patty H is so mixed up in all of this
that I don't dare get fully specific because my already horrible and
screwed up life would alter on a damn ass dime if I do, and I
KNOW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will 'naut' cross over the
absolute RED
LINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTTERCHEESE-BIG
ASS BUTT folks, I can say quite a bit more
about the 'PRIVECODE',
knowing of course there as well, just where the ABSOLUTE RED
LINE CROSSING MARKS
AND BRIDGES TRULY ARE, and RESPECTING
THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!
However people, on this blog, I just may cross over a few mother
fucking RED
LINES,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was all during the old analogue days,
BEFORE
THE DIGITAL REVOLUTION
came, and I could not afford to make the video stores richer by
renting movies, as money
was always tight for me.
So in the afternoons I would enjoy Sesame Street, and then there were
those other two shows, “The
Electric Company”,
and “3-2-1
Contact”.
This is a very major
thing here. The magic numbers of 1-2-3
in reverse, and ELECTRIC.
Well, I don't know about “Electric
Avenue or getting higher”,
BUT I HAD BEEN CONTACTED,
MIZZ
AT&T BLAKE!!!!
I think it is very appropriate here to ponder this mystery. Why
is there no such device today
when it would be so needed to screen
out ROBO calls,
and for that matter, this automatically leads us to an even
huger query? Why then
back in those days WAS
THIS MACHINE REALLY INVENTED BY THE MYSTERIOUS IMM CORPORATION?????
What really was going on? First of all, I was one of the very few
people who purchased it, or so I was told within a year or so. And
then we come to one more incredibly interesting deal because folks,
you see, when people experience similar or exact life experiences and
stimulus, the average person will develop an average attitude towards
that, not that any two persons are alike, mind you but still
BUTTERCHEESE, and Spellchecker; most
of us within the psychological norms, will indeed react similarly to
'same-stimuli'. Are
people intentionally
given same
stimuli
by HALLS
FAWCES;
is the next appropriate following query to examine here; me wonderful
freaking blogaudians!!!!!!!!! On more than one occasion, I
have come to meet doubles of people, who are NOT REALLY TWINS.
For starters there was Desire',
and Mizz Knowles, and
then there was Phyllis
at RPL, and Donna Summer.
Now I will tell you a
major private story about me wonderful 'baby-mama', Patty.
She met a guy where she was working who she fell head over heels in
love with, lucky prick. He did not feel anything towards her, and
this made her crazy as all get out stink shit, cubed and Cuban. Then
one day, she met another dude not all that far away from where she
had met the first guy. He was a precise physical double of this
original guy. He liked Patty, and they
eventually fell in love, and more.
Still, there is a ton of shit behind this story, and we must remember
not to go too damn ass far across RED
LINES,
but me ol' pernt here still is goddamn CONTACT.
Some force did the very same shit to me, as they did to P.H., at
least in my humble opinion (IMHO).
Bringing doubles into our lives and testing for a reaction. This all
fits into a powerful Astral Plane secret that I have fucking dared
quite cunt eating boldly to share openly with the residents of the
Earth-Planet now, for thirteen years of blogging texts. That is, that
the
gods of the Purgatory, that the Air force believes to be aliens from
distant points in the expansion, are bored to tears from the
endlessly existing reality that all existers face, and thus in order
to fucking distract away from this nightmare state, they have
invented the concept of PLAYING GAMES, and this is where the entire
world Olympics all comes from, the great Olympian GODS, or the
MILITUFORCE ALIENS of UFOLOGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE
1983 CONTACT M2F PUNISHMENT:
I
picked my mom up at the PATCO train station in Lindenwold, New
Jersey, and drove us back to our Atco home and ate dinner. After she
went off to bed around a quarter past ten at night, I began flicking
through channels and started to watch some stupid movie on the
television. There was no cable television service in Atco yet in
1983, so entertainment was limited to only a few choices. I got a bag
of M&M's candy and a soda and put them onto my card table in
front of me, and began to watch this dorky ass show about some kids
who did a song and were discussing how to make a few improvements to
the recording, and after I was eating some candy and got into the
show, approximately fifteen minutes later on, around 10:30 P.M., I
suddenly was unable to clear my throat. To quote the great Resorts
International Hotel and Casino of Atlantic City, New Jersey, “That
is where it all began”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTTERCHEESE and BIG
ASS BUTT FOLKS, this is only THE BEGINNING, and the after shocks that
started practically instantly, are what is at issue, and is all part
of this CONTACT, but I need to say one quick thing here and now on
this blog. I used to watch in the afternoon, two shows on the Public
Broadcasting Station (PBS) that were on back to back. I
knew that this magical M2F
(Milituforce) was behind making me
want to watch those two shows that followed the Sesame Street show on
PBS. As I type this message here in
2019, I was just goddamn fucking hacked big time, SHERIFF
MASCARA SIR, AGAIN; and
my blog shifted up for absolutely no mother fucking reason to the
opening part of this paragraph and screwed up while I was typing this
line and I had to go back and repair it. First the freeze up and now
this 'move-the-line-hack', sir. But back on pernt, Mister
Bunkerqueens and otherworldly and worldly Blogaudians; I decided to
stop watching those shows. You might think on the fucking cunt eating
face of it, this was a very benign thing for me to do, only it was
not. Not when we consider the full impact of many following things.
For one thing, right afterwards, this is when the fourth of June
came, and BOOM, my mysterious medical condition that followed along,
AS PER THE PRIOR AUTUMN'S PROPHECY, YO YO YO YO
YO YO, while I resided at the world famous now perhaps, 1802
non Beekman ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me now
tell you what the last hack did to me, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR. My death
and my blood is on your hands, oh wonderful Sheriff KJM, sir!!!!
Somehow my blog DUPLICATED ITSELF, as in TWINS,
and my discussing a fantastic secret of PATTY
HOLLISTER THE GREAT ALL-KNOWER!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now tell me what
the bloody heck I am imagining, kind sir! Please, just ga'hed and
tell me THAT!!!!!!!!!!!! I decided to
close one of the two TWIN-BLOGS Sheriff and they both closed. Now
when I went to reopen and pushed the open prompt after reentering the
title on the file of the Open-Office Program on my PC system,
it opened back up as one singular blog.
NOW, did Patty do this to me sir, or did
the MILITUFORCE, or did HALLS
GAME PLAYING ASTRAL PLANE GODS FAWCES do this to me; oh
wonderful and awesome kind SIR? Just how can I ever know such
things; Sheriff Mascara, sir????? Gee freaking
willagars!!!!!
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
'1-2-3'
1-2-3,
or 3-2-1-----”CONTACT, IT'S THE REASON”!!!!!
WHAT
THE FUCKING SHIT IS REALLY GOING ON? Well, I do not wonder any
longer, not after all of my life, and then on top of this, that
wonderful new television show on the great
HISTORY-CHANNEL called, Project
Bluebook!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I also remember that wonderful soon to follow STAR
TREK-THE NEXT GENERATION (TNG) show, created by
futurist Mister Gene Roddenberry, who
seemed to know about my choking condition,
way back on the original sixties show, with the inventor of warp
drive, Mister Zephran Cochran, when the landing party landed on that
asteroid where one of the COILS had mated with
Mister Cochran. There is absolutely no way that Mister
Roddenberry could have known so much unless he REALLY
DID
KNOW ABOUT
ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As for new shit on today's
blog, wonderful kind SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR, here is a real
doozie-whopper saved for this very fine occasion of my DEATH
HARASSMENT TODAY oh great kind sir, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!! I
will quickly CAP in this first, however, followed by a counterstrike
from lovely MAGGIE, AKA my MAGNESONIC, without any car crash
'accidents', Miami incidents, rip offs, or wheel chairs!!!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEE!!!!!
I
had a recording system connected up to all of my telephone stuff, and
many times when CONTACT
was made with me, the little girl on the other end sounded
very much like
Sarjenka,
and they all knew it
too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had a recording system connected up to all of my telephone stuff, and
many times when CONTACT
was made with me, the little girl on the other end sounded
very much like
Sarjenka,
and they all knew it
too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had a recording system connected up to all of my telephone stuff, and
many times when CONTACT
was made with me, the little girl on the other end sounded
very much like
Sarjenka,
and they all knew it
too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
had a recording system connected up to all of my telephone stuff, and
many times when CONTACT
was made with me, the little girl on the other end sounded
very much like
Sarjenka,
and they all knew it
too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
lads and lassies, between Count Von-Lennon
Marcucci and Mister Jehovah Witness
Woodside, someone or something, CAPTAIN KIRK sure seemed to
have some powerful and forbidden knowledge pertaining to the
offspring of one Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr. I
don't mean Woods or Woodside TEST PRESSING, or the great old
record label ATLANTIC KRASSLE RECORDS.
Still, KRASSLE
means ATLANTIC
on the Purgatory-Plane, and indeed, that really and truly and
verily is HER CITY on the human world,
ACNJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, is PAULA KING really and
truly and verily the Almighty in human flesh today in the year of
mother fucking 2019?????????????????? Again folks, who can ever
really know shit like this for sure? You CANNOT
prove to me or anyone else, scientifically, that SHE
IS, or that SHE IS NOT,
and you all know it!!!!!!!!!!!! What began for
me as sort of a game, has turned into a wild horrendous unfathomable
hell. Now what if we should all follow
the advice of a great Astroblake spellchecker astrophysicist or
cosmologist by the name of Doctor Carol Sagan, and UP
THAT BY ONE DIMENSION? Get
it? I fully believe that in order to
distract away from the unfathomable hellishness of realization of
endlessness, the gods or Purgatites of highest energy values, have
learned how to use GAMES to distract themselves away from the
nightmare. I also believe that these GAMES went TOO DAMN FAR, and now
we have HUMANITY. Still, we all must dream off of the Purgatory when
running out of energy, and thus, begin dreaming somewhere and into
something, hence our cosmos and the great hyperspace expansion. The
story of the serpent, Eden, and original sin is a perfect
illustration that man can relate to, but if man ever wishes to evolve
to what is truly happening here, this is why I have created mother
fucking MORIANITY!!!!
This
is ELDER ABUSE,
KIND SHERIFF, SIR!!!! I am sixty-four
years and fifty-nine
days old, and that
should make me an elderly senior citizen that protects me from
these vicious mother fucking enemies, who relentlessly assault me
and victimize me, and destroy my property, continuously and
endlessly; as well as ruthlessly and without conscience, shame, or
fucking cock sucking humanity whatsoever, me
BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
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
There
will be some real sorry mother fuckers out there for this cunt
eating vicious assault on me today; OH GODDAMN
WORLD, IPYT!!!!
THIS
DOGTOWNITE, AND
THIS
HUMAN-HYBRID, IS NOT SIGNING OFF.
Blood
type---A neg. Eye color---green-hazel
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
On
Blogger since January 2006
The
BOM © 2006-2019
AND
PAULA K. DOESN'T LIKE IT AT ALL!!!!!!!!
On Blogger since January 2006
Donald
and Paula, PERRRR-fect together, huh Mister Kean sir? Nobody knows my
story in all five dimensions, and for that matter, nobody
cares!!!!!!
First I can just go and say, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, huh
Chester-Frank?
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
Sarah
Krassle
Owns
And
Rules This
Planet.
.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
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 17th
day of September, in this
year of 2019,
scanning for all my neighborhood and building enemies and my TRIAD
NABES FROM HELL, 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.
100%
power against whoever broke my telephone!!!!!!!!!!
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic
reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional),
(AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
MAGNESONIC, on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE,
PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, you will now be
transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P
Now
for my retaliatory counterstrike for that super
horrific BOTBAR DAY, this blog number 18 of 2019, follows: You
all heard me discuss the great galactic pulsar
star, and me giving it the name of Hydroglacia. This is
because on the Astral Plane of existence,
there is a large city in the capitol province of Olympia, and it is
called, when translated into Earth Planet English Language,
HYDROGLACIA. All of the stars
that we perceive in the skies in our waking reality, are indeed
astral cities back in the Purgatory. Do I truly
believe that I was semi-awake when I was 'contacted' by this
incredible star, not once, but TWICE? YES.
That is how CONTACT is usually made, when we are SEMI-AWAKE, or
SEMI-ASLEEP, depending on if you wish to say it one way or the
other way. When contact is made between ASTRAL ENTITIES and human
beings here, while dreaming off of the Purgatory; as long as it never
goes beyond the acceptable and very heavily Milituforce
governed semi-awake contact, or as Morianity calls it, 'acceptable
contact'; no persecution or harassment
is received as a result, by the contactee, from the Milituforce
system. However, in my case, a much more direct contact had
happened in many numerous times in my past, and thus, whenever
I have any major interactions or contact, I GET HARASSED, or
you can use the expression given in 1988, on a New york City
television station, with a very wonderful and truthful documentary
that they had on one day, where two very
secret agents were revealing that indeed, this
is something that DOES HAPPEN, when it is 'UNACCEPTABLE CONTACT',
and I speak of Agent Condor and
Agent Falcon. Their exact words,
if memory serves me at all well, after more than thirty years since I
saw the show, directed at some folks who had taken pictures of some
UFO craft crash site, and after their camera
was confiscated by the milituforce, “If
you ever open up your mouth about this, we won't give you a
moment's peace for the rest of your
lives”.
If you don't believe me, contact the mother fucking television
station in NYC, WPIX, and verify it, IF YOU
STILL CAN!!!!!!!!! But bringing shit up to date with this
siege on me with noise from my TRIAD SCUM NABES FROM DOGTOWN, we will
discuss my mom's so-called 'alien abduction' in Philadelphia back in
the middle-late nineteen-nineties, and what I now tell you all will
be pretty mother fucking difficult to dispute, although many of
course will endlessly keep right on trying to do so as this is
literally programmed in to the system, so to fucking cunt ass speak,
yo yo yo yo!!!! Oh yes folks, the MOUNTAINPEN
IS UNDER A
MAJOR
FUCKING:
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA SIR; I AM UNDER
A MAJOR DEATH SIEGE FROM THE ever illustrious
WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES ON THIS
seventeen September of twenty-nineteen. Still,
SOSO-WEIN-SSDD? This never goes out of style or so it seems,
along with all great Carey's Lamp telephone conversations with great
Gloucester City residents, such as the mighty and high filuting
Mister James Tiberius Burr. Yes folks, apartment names are no
different than any other James Redfield synchronicity events, written
about so wonderfully in his great Celestine books late last century,
Prophecy, and Vision. Let us further examine
and explore here, shall we all lovely Joann/Joanna's all over the
place????????? Heredahellda and here comes Mortimer Mortino
the ANGEL OF DEATH passing by my right fucking cunt side, at 1:38
this disafsternoon on 17 September, 2019. WOW THIS, huh lovely weight
watching big O? Those Brits even moan sexy, huh
Ray Curtis and all other marvelous
NYC detectives. This fucking cunt death angel is really on
me, yo. Get fucking lost, you loser lightweight!!!!!!!!!
I
told the story before on prior blogging texts about the home that I
rented shortly after escaping the SOMERDALE DEATH HOUSE as I have
come to call and label it, at 231 South Route 73 in Blue Anchor, New
Jersey. This hammering bitch either above me or next door to me is
REALLY MAKING ME NUTS TODAY, SHERIFF, AND PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITIES.
The Milituforce is really mother fuckign persecuting me today with
these evil nabes from HELL. I will call 911 soon if this hammering
does not stop, SHERIFF MASCARA, KIND SIR, AND THAT IS A TOTAL
PROMISE, YO YO YO 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 just left a message
for my wonderful sheriff and I will be forced to call the cops soon
as this is not backing off. I cannot be positive if it is being done
by my enemies next door or upstairs, but if I was forced to make a
double or nothing million dollar bet at gun point, I would say it is
from these asshole enemies NEXT DOOR TO ME AT THE 605 CONSTRUCTION
COMPANY, illegally. It is not lawful to run a
business that disturbs other neighbors with noise or activity in ANY
APARTMENT SYSTEM, PUBLIC HOUSING OR OTHERWISE. Nothing
is stopping them, even banging back on the walls.
Now I have to repair with Spackle where my fist went through my
walls, and it is not stopping this banging sound. I WILL HAVE
TO CALL 911 AND REPORT THIS TO THE MOTHER FUCKING POLICE. I have not
fallen under A DEATH SIEGE THIS SERIOUS IN YEARS WHERE I HAD TO CALL
THE COPS ON NEIGHBORS. I think the MILITUFORCE knows what I want to
speak out about concerning my mother and the Philadelphia abduction
and its connections into the house in blue Anchor that in my opinion
anyway, absolutely proves beyond any doubt whatsoever, that this was
no longer my mother. I already told how she had said before moving
into there, over at the J.F. Kennedy Hospital's Stratford Division on
Laurel Road back a couple months earlier, where she told my Cousin
Donald that day, “I have no son”,
and Donald looked at me with a wild expression as if he sure did not
envy my life's hellishness one tiny little mother fucking bit. I know
that WALL STREET
is the reason, along with mother fucking PARALLEL
EVENT, is what is causing today's MONSTER
FUCKING CUNT DEATH SIEGE WITH MY TRIAD NABES FROM HELL.
It has been extremely volatile ever since Donald has pulled this
fucking trade war tariff bullshit with good old I-CHINGVILLE AKA
CHINA of the lands of NO-CHAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let
me tell you all out here in the Ancient Astronaut Theorists future
society or club or whatever, about the connections into the
home owned by a Mister Guthrie Short, in Blue Anchor, the same place
you heard my school chum discuss on the WFMU
BEWARE OF THE BLOG COMMENT, regarding my enemies and how
distance and time do not seem to effect my interactions with them one
tiny bit, and NO SIR, RUSS OLD PAL, THEY
MOST DEFINITELY DO NAUT, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My mother always dreamed of having a kitchen with a 'BOOTH'. The home
at 231 Route 73 South INDEED HAD A BOOTH,
a really nice one too, right between the kitchen and the dining room
area. I kept my mouth shut at the time, partly because I was going
through horrendous other MILITUFORCE
woes and problems on a cosmic scale, and partly because I
knew it was JUST BETTER LEFT FUCKING ALONE, and we all know
about those kind of situations, don't we folks? I know that most of
you or all of you out here have indeed been there and thus can fully
relate. Just put what you may be relating to on a mountain top and
add in a bucket of steroids. Yes, she always
wanted and talked about having someday, a kitchen booth. But
whoever this NEW PERSON
WHO WAS IMPERSONATING MY MOTHER
AFTER THE ALIEN CONTROL-CONTACT HAD FOREVER
CHANGED HER was, she had absolutely no such memories, and no
such desires. This WAS NOT MY MOTHER.
She had memories sufficient enough to pull off the fake phony
impersonation of her, and THAT WAS ALL.
That WAS NOT
MY MOM,
but rather some taken over exploratronic puppeteer controller of the
MILITUFORCE. I know this
is true, SHERIFF, every bit as much as I know this horrible
assault on me today in my LEGALLY PAID FOR APARTMENT,
was also done just and only, FOR THE ILLEGAL
PURPOSE OF PERSECUTING ME, and sir, this is MAJOR ILLEGALL ELDER
ABUSE, and needs to be addressed as an additional
charge when I have these diseased dirt bag subskummite bastards next
door prosecuted in court soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
promise that these enemies WILL
PAY FOR THIS HORRIBLE ATTACK ON ME TODAY,
Sheriff sir, I absolutely guarantee and promise you that, kind
sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yessir
kind Sheriff and all other Blogaudians and hopefully the AATS someday
soon; I spoke another powerful truth on my last blog, the NOTES T1
section of this current blog. Indeed, I tell you all with a whole and
full heart, the biggest covered up secret of all is that we are all
Astral Plane entities and we dream off of this purgatory and out here
into this big banged out hyperspace, and also that not
only is GOD Almighty a triune being,
but SOUL IS TRI-ENTITY BEINGNESS,
and THAT is the hugest fucking secret
that can ever be let out of the bag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is
truth so help me Almighty great wonderful awesome PINK
GODDESS SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE. One powerful mother
fucking thing that even mighty evil twisted diseased puke licking
WALL STREET understands and
wholeheartedly knows and believes to be true, is that a reality
exists that Morianity and Mountainpen labels and calls, “The
Truth Of Opposites” or just TTOO for a shortened abbreviation
that may again be used, and yes, if I do, I'll remind you what it
stands for several times again. This can be totally reflected in the
rule of where smart money goes, and it
can be endlessly displayed and seen with crystal clarity, how all
humanity seems to endlessly see things backwards. I
speak of the sun quite obviously going around the Earth for
starters and maybe the greatest largest example of any other
following ones. Even the great BIBLE SCRIPTURES
say that the first shall be last and the last first, and goes onto
say how the mighty will serve and the servants will be the masters,
and on and on I can go here, and most of you out here absolutely know
that I am speaking 100% truths here.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Cleverness
of the M2F never will cease to amaze me in the least,
despite what ADA Wirtz Senior up at the CCPO
told me in 1992 about how they
and yes Microsoft, how thermonuclear
would also be very apropos here, regarding how these persecutors
have 'buddies' to quote him, and how it really is not that
incredible or amazing how it all works, that is once you are fully
aware and knowledgeable to the entire rotten mess that lays
behind all of the OZ curtains.
I will not even start getting into why I am saying this right now,
as much of it will become more obvious as other things get written
down here, and then also compared with stuff that is already
written of in these nearly fourteen
years of my blogs now, yo!
Before
I get into a few things now, here
is the weather report from the great and illustrious cable-TV
Weather Channel, AKA (TWC). They have a great APP
too, but my system is way too hacked to try and use it. I pay for
my TV service, and despite the fucking M2F (Milituforce) screwing
with that constantly, they also know that they cannot fully screw
shit up for me when I am paying big bucks for service, or they all
would eventually be in great legal trouble and that always spells
of course the biggest curse word in the M2F's vocabulary, which is
and always was and will be of course, “EXPOSURE”. I have
Mister D.C. Roth to always thank for enlightening me to that wild
and wonderful true fact, yo!
WEATHER
REPORT AS OF 1:18 P.M.
MONDAY,
16 SEPTEMBER, 2019
TEMPERATURE-90
CURRENT
SKIES-PARTLY CLOUDY
WIND-NW
AT 11 & GUSTING TO 17
HEAT
INDEX-FEELS 100
VISABILITY-10
MILES
HUMIDITY-60%
BAROMETRIC
PRESSURE-29.94 & DROPPING
DEWPOINT-74
PREDICTIONS-POSSIBLE
SHOWERS OR THUNDERSTORMS TODAY, WITH LOW OF 73 DEGREES TONIGHT
Lightning
came over to visit me a few days ago and was all over me. I felt a
tiny current while talking to HER on
my phone. SHE is the most incredible
and lovely goddess in the entire PURG, IMHO aniwho. And for the
great Sir
Chester-Frank;
I will now add in a great
'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'!!!!!!!
Zillions
of fire alarms
have gone off for the past several days, and I have noticed that
the middle third of the days in months seem to always have a
higher average of these things than the first or the third thirds
of months do, for whatever reason. There may be no discernable
reason for it, and then there may be, and until one is able to
know the presently not knowable, then put simply, ONE
DOESN'T KNOW,
no matter how many Patricia
Hollister's
they may know or speak to. To quote the great sir Dennis
Snyder
here folks, “That's
just reality son”!
Also,
the NIGHTMARES were extreme and intense, slightly more than usual,
and that means for ME, not for average 'dreamers'. I will always
remember Ed
Himacane Lynch
telling me, since he did not remember any of his dreams, as a few
in the minority rarely if ever do, and
he was in that small number,
“Mark,
they can't get at me”.
He sure seemed to know something here, huh
Patty and Merry?????????????
Like WOW-THAT!!!!
This
one dude
at my aunt Geraldine Snow Mason's Narberth, Pennsylvania home,
at 1208 Greentree Lane, in this one ghoulish horrible bloody
nightmare, was
a huge wrestler and was treating me really
nasty.
I kept telling him that I respected him just to get him off my
back, and he would say back at me in a mean, threatening, and
extremely intimidating voice, “You
better respect me”.
Later in the nightmare, I
was in some large room of wall maps,
not Walmart's, and there was some type of authority figure there
with me and he was showing me a map of the world famous
Interstate-95,
only in this parallel alternate reality, it went not only from
Maine to Florida, but
then veered out west all the way into California.
When I went to point towards the west coast however with my
pointer stick, somehow the man fell towards em and right into the
point of the stick. I was then on trial for second degree murder,
and found myself in a horrendous pickle since no one witnessed
this wild accident and so I was the only suspect and nobody
believed that this was an accident. Nightmares this horrible makes
me actually glad to be back awake again, so at leas there is some
positive value to these monstrous experiences if we examine it all
in light of the “Twinbay
Non-Glass Half Empty Attitudes”
way of thinking. Oh lovely Desire', you may have less than a
shining personality, but WOW are you beyond WHITE HOT, you lovely
girl. Now
I am left to wonder if JZ was on some antimatter field
from where I stood, when President
Jimmy Earl Carter
told me he
knew that I was dead.
You know, as in his case, he must have died and gone straight
to heaven. WEEEEEEEE! Still
my mom and her great words of wisdom-advice ring forever true in
my ears. If a girl's disposition stinks, it won't cover up her
beauty any more than a package of sugar that covers up a pile of
dog crap makes that any kind of ambrosia for the pallet.
YUK-YUK-YUK-YUK-YUK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is sort of like folks my age at least having fond memories of
better days while suffering through these new age days of total
fucking dog shit. An example here is
the endlessly popping up bullshit screens, while I try to enjoy
television,
something never did when I was growing up as a boy or early into
my adulthood either. I made up my own little expression just last
night and it goes like thissssssssssssssssssssss, Mizz
Susan Lucci!
“Be
glad you had what you had”.
Hey, not even the mother
fucking MILITUFORCE
can take it away from me.
Another
wild nightmare, and they all seem to have my mom in them now as
this is really on a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE non Senator Sanders roll now
for me, was right here in Florida. I had to meet my mom at some
place at five in the evening, and it began around shortly past
half past four in the afternoon, and the nightmare went right into
approximately twenty-five minutes past five. No matter what
clothes I put on or what I did to try and get ready to leave and
go and meet up with her, clothes kept not fitting right or being
torn and ripped, and things kept fucking up and time seemed to go
about five or more times faster than it normally should go and the
minute hand was almost as fast as the damn second hand should have
been. It was one of those nightmares on steroids in the annoyance
department, and I know that almost all of us have them from time
to time, and most will relate here. This was a real
'whopper-doozie' however.
HAHAHA
Mizz Sleazeweedsdisease, you missed me, UWICH non-Paula of
Glendora, sister perhaps of the great Public Television system's
Molly of Denali. Another HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE WEEEEEEEEEEE may be in
order here, me' kind awesome blogaudians and
AAT's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, the majority of viewers at least in
photon projection, or in the future, are the AAT. To reiterate
once more in case anyone has forgotten, I
have formed some brand new conclusions over the weekend,
and now I boldly begin a brand new
series on my Mountainpen Blogs.
These will be the notes
(journals-diaries-lab-findings),
or whatever
words anyone should ever wish to think of this as.
The title, simply is the way that the abbreviation of this new
series would be pronounced, and accented on the first of the three
syllables. The actual letters, for the record, and for posterity I
suppose' would be (NUMDWTAATS),
and here is what these letters stand for: NOTES
UNTIL
MY
DEATH,
WILLED
TO
ANCIENT
ASTRONAUT
THEORISTS
SOCIETY.
It's my absolute sincerest hope that I am totally wrong in the
following things and concepts that I will now print onto this blog
and later expound and elaborate upon on many following ones as
well. In any case, the near future 'AAT
Society'
is downloading words and blogs that I still have not yet printed,
just as in the same manner that I always wished to convey to
Doctor
Coral Sagan,
before the great Star Trek V-GER Probes were launched, AKA the
Voyager 1 and the Voyager 2, with a little 'Houston Humor' for
any loyal Trekker fans out here on the net, now, later, and
'whenever'; that thousands
of years in the future
from the middle late nineteen-seventies, and very far away too, if
aliens who may be extremely dangerous, are in fact really out
there somewhere, and capable of transferring antimatter space,
(going
backward into time);
then we NOW
have just opened this Pandora's Box, and there
is no closing it, EVER.
People, even the greatest
minds on the Earth Planet,
at least throughout my lifetime, think extremely
TWO-DIMENSIONALLY.
Hopefully, I can someday, and somehow, do my small part in making
folks realize that truth. This blog will now do what they all have
been leading up to. Not only three and four dimensions of normal
space-time will be involved, but we will bring the Human
Religion System straight into the FIFTH DIMENSIONAL REALITY,
and with an ultimate and very scary concept that
ties in August 15, 1986,
my
family,
my
curse,
my
nightmares
both awake and asleep; and a zillion other new blinding lights
that pertain to this higher 5-D thinking process. Long as this
blog may be with a lot of boring text, it merely opens this all up
and barely scratches the surfaces of icebergs with tiny peach-fuzz
shaved slivers. Boy oh boy oh boy, Uncle Billy. There
is NO
WAY IN DOGSHIT
that I am not living in HELL
on this EARTH,
in my present human form as MARK
WAYNE
MOHR.
For nearly sixty five years now, I have been made totally
miserable by some INVISIBLE
FORCE AROUND ME
that is simply absolutely unbeatable, and just cannot be defeated
no matter HOW
HARD I TRY, OR WHAT I EVER DO!
This brick wall around me is not made of brick, and it is not
painted bright cherry red for everyone to see; yet this invisible
field of force is as real around me as any wall made of concrete
could ever be. It is as powerful as any SYFY type of invisible
force field. It will
not allow me to EVER have ANYTHING that is good or positive, and
if anyone EVER wishes to prove me WRONG, go right ahead, IF YOU
CAN,
Mister Clarence Harris of 1998, sir; and my best to your boss and
my great country tune vocalist as a younger boy, the Congressman!
He indeed was determined to prove me wrong one day, AND HE ALMOST
LOST HIS MIND. The two days that this great Marine Corps Man
almost lost it, was with ME, once at Katie's Dairy Queen, and once
in Philadelphia!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember folks that this was
a hardened MARINE. My life goes far beyond anything that any of
you can possibly imagine, WHETHER YOU WISH TO BELIEVE ME OR NAUT,
MIZZ AT&T BLAKE! My first project with the professor that mike
Patterson and I have been trying so incredibly hard to do flopped
and not one single person downloaded the Krystal's Ball. The
second project has been placed on a big hold, since Mike's car has
blown up, and I will not be able to get to the Miami College to
present this to him, as was planned. Some one or something,
Captain Kirk, JUST WON'T EVER ALLOW ME TO CATCH EVEN THE TINYEST
MOTHER LOVING BREAK, and this has gone on day in and day out and
year in and year out, for HALF A CENTURY!!!!!!!!!! No sane person
can think that every single thing can just endlessly GO WRONG for
someone, and it is just endless pure bad luck with nothing else
mysteriously going on behind it. Not in a mother sucking zillion
years! Any time the world or the forces want to prove me wrong,
and get off my back and allow SOMETHING IN MY LIFE TO WORK OUT IN
THE SMALLEST LITTLE WAY, fine, then and only then will I take back
these words THAT I ABSOLUTELY KNOW TO BE 100 PERCENT TRUE AND REAL
AND ACCURATE!!!!!!! But that was then, and this is now, moved all
the way from the letter 'A' to the letter 'T' on my notes. There
are pressing issues up here in the
land of the T-notes,
and it goes far beyond anything on crooked
rotten Wall Street,
or anywhere else in this evil greedy diseased business world of
icy cold heartless uncaring maggot bags from DOGTOWN!!! Let us
explore this a bit, shall we, all lovely Joann/a people,
EVERYWHERE?????????????
My
mom,
speaking of her returning from the dead and into my dreams, as she
did when she tried to warn me not to live with the WASHCLOTH
PEEPS of 1970,
at that dollar store in middle 2008, worked
as all of you know fully well by now, in Philadelphia.
She originally was with the Lavino
Shipping Company that later became the great British firm of
Inchcape Shipping Services INC.
Now indeed this has nothing to do with the great Lambrigg
England or Liverpool's famous Mister Count Von-Vamcucci Marcucci,
and the name of the Astral-Plane
cult
is purely coincidental, at least to my best knowledge,
BUTTERCHEESE
and yessir, a great big ass BUTT
but,
to quote my first two blogging years that seemed to be such an
inspiration to my
mighty and talented non-Doctor flint immortal daughter;
my
mom's brutal covert assault
that led to her untimely death, and her twenty-six months of
agonizing suffering with some unknown and absolutely undiagnosable
medical condition by the best experts in New Jersey's medical
industry, that only the great AAT peeps know of,
“Zombi-Controlled-alien contact”, following her abduction one
day in Philadelphia, while she was on her lunch break, and she was
walking to a local city supermarket several blocks from her office
that was across the street from the world famous Independence Mall
where the Liberty Bell was once housed, and also where her sixth
great granddaddy signed a very world famous document called the
Declaration of Independence, Sir
Samuel Huntington;
is obviously where and how this DISEASED
MILITUFORCE
got a hold on her, as it was only a short march of days after this
abduction where she tole me that she had no memory of where she
was or how she got there, all led up to her mysterious nocturnal
assault on her while her body lay sleeping in her downstairs
bedroom at the Somerdale death house on Harvard Avenue, and at
the Yale and Harvard Avenue intersection, and was numbered 112
Harvard Avenue. This monstrous cruel fucking crime that was
perpetrated upon us went completely unpunished, as all things
connected with the MILITUFORCE,
the ALIEN and UFO SITUATION,
and covert black ops and black file agency/military ops things,
all do, endlessly and forever. What a crying fucking shame. What a
black eye in the history of America someday, when it all is
totally and completely revealed and out in the open someday, as
all things must of course eventually be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
wild train trip nightmare that ended with my losing my wallet, is
not the end of my wallet and my missing ID in endless recent
nightmares, from the past half decade or so now. I had another one
just a couple of nights back. But let us discuss the big one where
my local sheriff seemed to have a connection with my Jersey area
in that alternate reality. The ten grand is a wild number because
this was thrown at me twice, once in 1995 when 'spurious Dave
Roth' to quote the ADA Ron Wirtz Senior, asked me outside of my
Highview Apartment one evening and while we were in his car, if I
would be willing to agree hypothetically to a truce with the M2F
if they stopped harassing you and paid you ten grand? I laughed
and told him when pigs fly. Then again in fifteen years down here
in Florida with the “Real good girl” bet, made with a
coworker, that is all blogged on earlier blogs and needs no
rehashing now as time would simply not permit it. Both times, ten
grand. This also is a number recognized governmentally, because
any and all transactions of ten grand and over, are reported to
the Federal Government. Amounts that are less than $10,000.00, are
NAUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's just that simple to quote one of their
great sixties-agents, Mister Chain
Henningsen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But moving
thissssssssssssssssssssss along, lovely spellchecker Erica Kane,
Dave had parked a truck he was driving over in that parallel world
and had received a parking ticket for illegal parking on a main
thoroughfare. This is when Sheriff KJM came across the street
after I had disembarked the vehicle and Dave had somehow just up
and vanished, and he introduced himself, saying, “I'm Sheriff
Ken Mascara, and I need to talk to you”. Suddenly he appeared to
be about thirty feet tall, and yet he told me he was seven foot
four when I asked him. After the interaction with him and him
taking me to that office where I was told that I better give
somebody there ten grand or else, I found myself on a bus on the
White Horse Pike where I again had lost my wallet and ID and my
money, thus not allowing me to pay for the bus ride. The bus
driver threw me off the bus physically and then he threw a small
manila envelope into my face and got back on and rode away. This
envelope contained a note on an eight and a half by eleven sheet
of white paper, and in large bright blue writing, it said to me,
“SOUL is three beings in Purgatory, and is all the same entity”.
All Astral-Plane entities or Purgatites ARE SOUL and all SOUL is
TRI-ENTITY, by the physical plane and mortal world's perception of
it, or the way the living would think about it on their rational
terms. This is why for example, I am both Zeranniss Yancy as well
as Rictofarious Dadapafanassius. BUTTERCHEESE
and BIG ASS BUTT,
but; who else AM I then? This is the end of the front side of the
page, and then I turned it over to the flip side and this time in
bright orange color as if the ink had been drained straight off
the pumpkins on lovely Patty Hollister's porch in October of 1975,
the printing read as follows: Many dozens of inner names (middle)
also exist, but we are giving you now the CITY-NAME of your THIRD
ENTITY PART. It read, Khymnetarshae. You do not forget something
like that, especially when right after this, my eyes popped open
here on my waking bed as if some atomic powered robot with
puppeteer'd controls to my eye lids, literally yanked them wide
open and then struck my asshole with a flaming rod of lit iron.
After I had been up and awake and was eating a light brunch and
about to watch some television and relax, the rest of the
dream-memories hit me as if I had just struck the ground after
parachuting unsuccessfully off of Mount Everest onto a rock hard
pile of jagged ice. A voice was echoing inside my 'headlessChrome'
and
my head,
and this word just popped on to the system for absolutely no
apparent logical reason folks, I swear to everything holy and
unholy. Yes, a voice came into my head as I was reading the second
page or the flip side to this white page that was inside of this
manila envelope. It said to me, “This
is the absolute magic
that exists secretly behind the NUMBER
3,
after Energy is divided by C SQUARED, and this is the M x C
SQUAREDGASME or the GAME
IN THE PURG”.
It is in this GASME or the game of the PURG that every entity in
this timeless existence all endlessly agrees, to only know two of
their three parts to themselves at any one given FOCUS-POINT. So
the GASME game or the object of it, is to create an absolute
distraction from the hell of infiniteness (endlessness), play
playing this incredible game called 2/3 OFF OURSELVES. This is
even what the Almighty Sarah-Stacey JEHOVAH Krassle does in HER
GREAT CITY of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL! Now people of the AAT SOCIETY or
the (AATS), yo, I fully believe yet cannot as of yet prove to any
of you, NAUT to my own total and complete satisfaction anyway,
that the Earthly counterpart {AWA}-(MC-M2F), is most definitely,
to quote my old school chum Mister TAPE RECORDER 1500, non train
trips of numerous magical messages, attempting to learn of this
final and ultimate extremely forbidden TABOO SECRET of the great
ELECTRON, and HER MAGICAL 3 NUMERATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Exposure of
this could IMHO potentially mark the TRUE MAYAN NEW AGE that is at
hand! And of course, why not, HERE COMES THE TRUSTWORTHY (`~HACK),
SHERIFF MASCARA, MY WONDERFUL AWESOME KIND SIR, at 3:45
P.M.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yessir, there is major
truth about many calendars being truly off by seven years, and
this is still a mostly misunderstood truth that can be examined in
greater scrutiny at a latter and more opportune
time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
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