Saturday, September 21, 2019

NUMDWATATES NOTE Y1




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NUMDWATATES NOTE Y1

10:21 ANTE' MERIDIAN

SATURDAY MORNING

21 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







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Mountainpen's LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:



Friday, September 21, 2019



CURRENT PHASIE IS: LAST QUARTER PHASE



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.











Three straight mornings now, Maintenance men or bug spray men have awakened me out of a deep sleep. Today was the earliest, at 8:57 this MOUUUUUUUUUUURNING. Why they work on mother sucking Saturday's is anyone's best guess, guest or no guest, hotel balconies or no hotel balconies, green dresses or no green dresses, and Pearl Harbor Day I-Ching trances or no Pearl Harbor Day I-Ching trances. The man outside my door hammering loudly at the area where pipes all seem to connect into a main system somewhere, told me that Monday my venetian blinds should be arriving, as they needed to order the particular size needed for my particular window widths. The hammering always brings nasty ass rotten diseased cock roaches scurrying madly outside where they obviously hide and breed inside of the mother fucking walls, and I had to EMPTY ANOTHER CAN OF RAID. So much for the quarterly-spray as usual, and to reiterate, if anything, the spray men seem to just bring me more of them every time that they come in here to do their damn spraying job. I will need to buy another four cans of RAID at my local Publix store shortly, but I need to go out for a few staples anyway, such as some onions, some mushrooms, and a couple of frozen meats. WEEEEEEEEEE this, Sir Chester-Frank. No spoon dances please; lovely Oprah Winfrey. TANKS & BOOM, yo!!!!











One of the maintenance dudes seems to be our local town opera singer, and he is quite good, almost good enough to get lovely Patty Hollister jealous and excited. He loves to really sing out there in the hallway. Maybe Patty's blue special candles can resurrect the wonderful Mister Pavarotti, and they can perform a duet today in the great sixth floor hallway of this public housing building. Another WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE for posterity and for Sir CF.









When I was off the grid for a quarter of a decade from early in 2016 through middle of 2018, the MILITUFORCE had quite a few of my blogs sent back into drafts and unavailable for your perusal, for reasons they claimed pertained to complaints about copyright infringements, lewd and lascivious language, and other technical matters that of course to a non computer geek, make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I am going to reexamine them all in my own good time now, and then remove all items other than for the text on them, and then put them onto a new re-posted system of addendum's into current blogs. I know that things of major interest will come out from my doing this; oh kind wonderful folks of the AATS. Yessir folks, sleeping in here at public housing on mornings and weekends has virtually become impossible. Between operatic bouts of Pavarotti imitations, drilling, hammering, and other loud ungodly sounds, and even with ear plugs deep in my ears; the sound is nearly deafening in here. Another wonderful fucking weekend, huh Sheriff KJM. Par for the course, or said in Morianity's way, SOSO-WEIN-SSDD! WOW-WOW-WOW, big O!!!!!!!!!













Well people, you may or may not remember the blogs of mine back in **** huffing early February in 2009, when I took a horrific **** sucking mother ******* motorcycle attack while driving to my afternoon/evening work-shift at my job as a guard at Cifaloglio, over near Folsom, New Jersey. I had just passed the mother ******* Hammonton, New Jersey Skating Rink, and POW, YO; a huge blotor-motor sickie cycle assault in league with a monstrous airplane assault, greeted me after they burned me with an over-riding control circuit, at the traffic signal just past the rink. The Russians are coming, the Russians are here, Mister mother ******* Jonathan Winters!!! A major word processing hack just struck me here at Stacey JACK-HACK-ATTACK Lattisaw Township. The spell-checker has been hacked to stop working, Sheriff Ken Mascara, kind sir! They have not yet hit my software I had put in, to (*) out curse words, when I post up to BLOGGER, and the fragile ears of our phony society. Everybody uses ******* fowl language, just like everybody does lots of nasty little things, and it is all kept hushed up and secret. At least I don't believe Leticia Tilley is from 1986 when it is 2009, nor would I enjoy the supposed 'pleasures' of Russian female urination! This little CAP-JOB was from BLOG 5 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN.









And to add another entry from that wonderful whittle blog, kind peeps;

Yes folks, deny what you know is true all you want, from dirty disgusting habits, talking dogs, Russian sexual preferences, & my preferences, which indirectly led me to being a little younger than my chronological age since any labber will tell any of you that human saliva is not that different from human blood, and needs not be screened for typing; but rather, just for great looks. 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 ******* believe in coincidences, not like this one, YO!!! Yes I cannot prove it Doctor Coryell sir, and doctor Green sir, but I fully believe that I was able to put off aging a while as a result of my so-called yuk-yuk habits and weird sexual preferences. Today it is all considered Chillmo stuff and so I now have aged. WOW THAT, OPRAH, huh??????? The copyright Office I am sure knows what is being said, and have some perdy damning evidence against me, although the statutes of limitations sort of protects me, and I do not do any of those things any more. My days are now long fucking behind me, folks!











Parallel Event Technology or (PET) for short, is usually not a great thing like our loving adorable 'other pets'. The reason the blog world stopped me from posting links was all so that I could no longer show a visual reality of the great and all mighty mother ******* Dow Jones Industrial Averages. You were not allowed to see and remember how I told you, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU ALL, that this thing would go to between 25,000 and 30,000 points as this current decade began to grow to a close in the 17 and 18 and 19 years; and it all happened, JUST AS I MOTHER ******* SAID SO, YO!







So then just exactly why is the parallel event with me verses the ******** owners of the world, going on, you may be asking and wondering, or then again, you may be saying to yourself, 'Oh go **** your stupid *** self, Mountainpen'! But in case you are indeed ******* interested, it is because I am the only mother ******* **** chewing illegitimate son of a female dog who actually knows a very simple few word combinations, and truly understands the absolute power behind them, one being that time is an illusion and that we simply exist, and another is that Space-Time-Mind or (STM) for short, is where eternal spirit is not the attention and focus of energetic existence or as the church calls it perhaps, (eternal spirit). When you are in one, then the other one simply is not there for you, and it works both ways. Once that becomes clear, the nature forces begin to communicate with you, and then in a relatively short space of time, fish and birds and other soulless creatures do as well. But is anything really soulless? Is there anything, sir Einstein, alive or even inanimate that does not have an energetic equivalent? Let me tell you a quick little example that does not require me to go back further than around this time yesterday. I went over to the Walgreen's Store to order some vitamins, and when I paid for them, the nice lady clerk asked me if I wished to redeem some of my Rewards Card savings, and I said fine if there is any, and yes there was, a nice two dollars; and for me every penny counts, Sheriff Ken Mascara sir! Some of us citizens really are honest and before crippled into disability by powerful astral world enemies, hard working too, kind sir! The bill came to 28 dollars, and then the two buck discount brought it down to 26 dollars, and just as I was seeing this on the computer screen, I thought to myself, 'gee I hope my lovely Lightning Goddess Diana Zuudlocrenesia Arteemis isn't mad at me for skipping down through her magical '27' number in-between the full price amount of 28, and the new discounted price of 26'. I no sooner had this thought in my mind and instantly, a beautiful pinkish white brilliant flash of light was practically at my feet, as the doorway to the store is only five feet away from the cash register. It was LIGHTNING, and the exact time of the flash to the deci-second was followed by a super loud clap of thunder, meaning that SHE was right there, and I even felt a tiny little bit of lovely current on the tips of my feet! Don't mother ******* tell me I'm nuts or what I am imagining, oh world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Speaking of that neighbor as well as my powerful so-called wild imagination people; let me CAP this following thing in also from that same blog in the summer of 2018. Right after this, she got into that bad car crash. coinkeedink, Sheriff? I for one ain't buying into that for a New York City microsecond! Here is the CAP.



Sheriff sir; I have a neighbor who told me exactly who it is that caused me 500 mother ******* dollars worth of damage recently to my automobile. She will tell if she has to, but naturally like all of us, hopes not to have to get involved. She told me that you already know who this is and are hoping to get the necessary proof so he can be taken to jail where he ******* belongs, my kind SHERIFF, SIR! To quote Uncle Billy on that fantastic “It's A Wonderful Life” movie that was done by the great Mister Frank Capra, “BOY OH BOY OH BOY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







END TRANSMISSION.


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