THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
Now
why exactly, Sarah Callio Martino, somewhere in hyperspace;
trapped me in a lighthouse, and yelled my name out, over and over,
'JoJo-JoJo;
I
will never totally know.
So
let me widen the scope of the topic, so we can see this in a larger
blend of bigger pictures, and out of one tiny confined box; great
ladies and gentlemen. If you don't want your mind to be totally damn
blown all the way from your place where you're reading this, all the
way to Liverpool's mighty and illustrious Count Von-vam-Marcucci's
other 1969 secret classrooms of ultimate mystery; then pweeeeeeze
'stop'
reading this blog
right now, great folks!
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P}
{S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P} {S-T-O-P}
“Okay”,
Mister John 'Happy-J' King, and everybody else out here; now
you have been warned, LEGALLY, morally, and 'spiritually'
even. So when this is all done, and you have absorbed even a tiny sum
of this; please expect some vely intelesting
situations to occur in your own lives that you will, believe
it or naut, absolutely see major connections
within all of your own lives. IPYT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NUMDWATATES
NOTE W2
11:04
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
NIGHT
15
OCTOBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
TUESDAY,
OCTOBER 15, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WANING GIBBOUS 2:7
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 N.M.
Week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 10-15-19
*****************************************l******
THIS
INFORMATION WILL BE POSTED AFTER THE END OF THIS DAY.
Yes,
you'll 'realize' for most certain and quite 'definitely'; Mizz Payne
and Mister Thaxton; YYYYYYYYYYY I am rating the
SECRETS-BAROMETER SCALE so high, as you eventually come to the
“End Transmission”
part of this not so HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE blog, but a blog that
will do exactly what Mister Thaxton said as a youth and a teen, to me
regarding what I was doing one day, to the awesome and great
Nixon-Hated, Mister Shavers-Cut-Non-Rosanne-Club Marcucci.
TWB-Featured
Cameras
Featured Cameras
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
Yes
to quote Executive ADA Jack
McCoy of New York County (fictionally),
from that all time greatest law show in television's history,
('L&O'), “Ain't
life a silly old dog”?
So
why not see if we can't spice things up a whittle bit, all the way to
Count VonMarcucci's dangerous razor set of 1969?
Maybe
it is time to give the Astral gods something to really go all crybaby
over? Who can ever really know, Mister Robertson and great Librarian
of the Congress of 2007?
The
discussion that I had with the great wild dude from the NG-ADS a
year or so ago, in the Community Room, here at my PHA Building, that
has interesting matching initials to my baby-mama; had
to do with many powerhouse things that have driven many great people
such as the illustrious Jim Burr
of nearby areas to hers, quite mad,
at least as per his confession to me in his car one day, back in late
1973, after both of us had completed our courses at the 1
Cherry Hill Building's computer school, called the Professional
Careers Institute of Cherry Hill, up there in wonderful
awesome HA-HA-HA New Jersey, AKA by the
Mountainpen, NO JOYSEY; oh wonderful mighty baseball Mudville
Striking-Out-Mister-Casey!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes folks, to quote Jim that day in his car while we were driving
through nearby Haddonfield that day, “Mark
what I am experiencing now has caused me to be a razor's edge away
from insanity”. He was referring to Satanic-Curses.
But this is naut what is being discussed right now, so we won't be
harping on that any further on this particular blogging work. This
same young dude went with me to the Golden Nugget Casino one early
afternoon, in Atlantic City, a decade in the future from that day
when we were discussing this, while driving through illustrious and
very historic Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG, on where else but wonderful
SIR REDFIELD'S SYNCHRONIZED “KINGS
HIGHWAY”.
This is when I showed him what I then was calling and labeling, my
“Judgment Roulette System”,
later to be renamed by me, the “Opposite-Follow
Pattern-Judgment” roulette system. This was the same day
that we later walked up to the great Resorts Casino in North Atlantic
City and played another game, and this is where they pulled that
stunt on their public-address system that proved to me beyond any
possible doubt, that they were monitoring me and my life, and had
thoroughly checked me out and even checked out my songs in the United
States Copyright © Office. That is not something that could be
argued successfully by any rational group of thinking minds! But that
day a decade later is still naut the point, Mizz Blake, so shall we
stick to the issue at hand, lads, lassies, Lab Dogs, and Labbers, in
or out of the mighty and Chinese linked somehow, future location in
Westmont, New Jersey, called, World Laboratories of Westmont”, up
in the middle late part of the 22nd century. I will thus
proceed onward. This talk that I had with this 'leader' or whatever
he truly is, of this NG-ADS, or whatever that truly is, is about some
weird details to James Redfield's synchronicity.
This
NG-ADS person told me what I already somehow came to realize in my
personal life decades and decades earlier, and that is that there is
really no such thing as RANDOM because all things are in some wild
super-sub-atomic COSMIC PATTERN, no matter how goddamn random they
may in fact seem to appear. This is truer than anyone has the
smallest clue about. Indeed, this incredible powerhouse information,
if ever taken seriously by the authorities and power structures of
this Earth-Planet, would send present day ops of everything into
brand new and totally unfathomable orbits of reality. The gods and
goddesses of the Astral-plane know this ONLY TOO MOTHER FRUCKING
WELL, me' folks out here, and the ones who might just someday help me
in some way, the great AAT Society (AATS). For example, not only do I
have several thousand blog chapters up on my computer files, but
should I go up and randomly scroll down to any particular paragraph,
with an average of two dozen paragraphs per blog, this brings the
mathematical total of paragraphs to a minimum number of approximately
3,000. Yet after I typed in the bit about myself at age four years
and living at Levittown, Pennsylvania, and upset when my mom told me
that people lived a certain number of years, and she averaged it out
to a round number of a hundred, and I was all upset about having to
live that long, pow, zoom, Adam West and Batman Zonkadoodle, I
randomly went up on one blog out of several thousand of them,
randomly scrolled down to an area, cut and pasted it (CAPPED) it, and
then poof, before I even realized it, it fitted perfectly and
precisely into the topic that was being discussed about my mom
talking about how humans lived 100 years, something that later she
told me she did not remember saying to me, but I assure you that she
did in fact say it, and just rounded off a figure. Now in lotteries
or casino gaming situations, one might then go onto wonder, gee whiz
willagars; why then can't I make a damn million bucks with this? I am
glad you asked me that, folks? Why am I glad you asked me this, you
maybe are asking me, yo”? Well, it is vely simple. It should work
this way if cosmos was random, and I was NAUT really truly and verily
under this thing that I call the HUNTINGTON CURSE. Between my
'mathematical giftedness' and the FAWCES working this way to begin
with, then I should have been able to make a million bucks in the
casinos, only we all know, THIS AIN'T WHAT HAPPENED, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO!!!!!! So in examining this, you are all making my argument
for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now as for the being driven insane
part to all of this, many peeps with EDP problems and woes all over
the world, hear voices, and I do not mean my CCV voices, but Kevin
Costner's movie CCV voices, real audible ones. I would be able to
hear them too if I concentrated deeply enough. Astral Plane entities
love to communicate with the human mortal world, and these Purgatites
are absolutely real, and for those suffering with countless mental
disorders, delusions, and voices, you are not nuts, IPYT. The next
way to make this powerful point is in the way these synchronized
events all tend to happen in such perfect patterns, and as we tune
into the reality of this mind blowing situation, it works quite
similarly to medical biofeedback systems. It is increased in
intensity, and it can be controlled by our own minds. There are
people out here who have allowed things on television for example to
make them go absolutely bonkers when in truth, it is all a powerful
game of these gods from the endless fucking PURGATORY. I could push
myself straight into the maximum 8th red-star position, on
my 'Secrets Barometer Scale', if I told about John Kings dogs, the
L&O-TV show, WAYV-FM Radio, and some incredible things that my
own kid dealt with in a maze of wild shit that was almost as
detrimental as that day on the Tulleytown Landfill with the deceased
Bloody-Mary. We all are a lot more fragile than even we realize
sometimes, and when shit happens that cannot be rationally
understood, it can make us go off the deep end, unless we come to
understand the MORIANITY (truths) behind so many doors of Non-I-Ching
world of secrets. This is another reason that I truly believe, after
my words assisted her in all of this, and whether the public world
can ever come to know this as the truth or 'NAUT' Mizz Blake, that
she said what she said on that comment-area. Only the mighty FEDS can
know for sure whether this is what I believe to be true or NAUT, Mizz
AT&T BLAKE, but it makes way too much sense to just dismiss as
one of those so many Grant O'Neil normal-people
“NO-WAYS” deals.
Now
since the MILITUFORCE got their way with magnetic-momentum, you know,
persecuting me HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE TIME for two weeks or so, and then
placing the STOCK MARKET into a ONE-WAY direction of
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE-UP, huh wonderful Senator Sanders; using forbidden
AND TOTALLY ILLEGAL ICPE-APE-TECH tactics on me; AGAIN, so that Trump
will definitely be reelected in 2020, AND HE WILL BE, and during an
illegally manipulated 35-40 thousand DOW JONES MARKET, and all as
MOUNTAINPEN PREDICTED FROM LONG AGO, and my blogs are all up there to
be archived by anyone on this damn globe, but yes, since the M2F has
successfully accomplished their covert evil and the market is and
will be endlessly zooming upwards to lock in the election, along with
TRUMP knowing fully well how to organize all of this BRIGGBASE
white-power Nazi WP Supremacist tactics from DOGTOWN (HELL), this is
being spoken now even though it is the date that it is, AS HISTORICAL
FACT, as to me, this has all happened already, the 40,000 POINT STOCK
MARKET, the total destruction of America as we all have come to know
and love her, and Trumpism and out of control Billionaire Master &
Slave Noble control over Surf reality. To me this is just me typing
from out in the photon-projected twenty-twenties, and this is an
already happened fact, because I am just a nobody and nobody listens
to a nobody. They're all too goddamn fucking interested in crashing
the Instagram Website after lovely Mizz Anniston joined up, and other
such totally nonsensical shit that will lose all its value and be
absolutely and totally fucking forgotten about by 2025 and 2050, only
the new age America of HELL unless you are a wealthy person will not
be forgotten. It will be here day after day, and we all will be
endlessly mother fucking stuck in it. It will be far too late then
for anyone to look up the Mountainpen and apologize to him for not
feeling the way a really great talented person did back a dozen years
ago. What a bunch of fuckign total lightweight losers, uh CUZZ? Looks
like you are right about us all along. WOW TO THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still, nothing I might say about family or children today on this
text is why my red star scale may be quite high. It is because I am
now choosing to let out another item that we discussed that same day,
and after I tell you all one more large thing. I have been told that
this person has been WARNED to not come back here, and never to speak
to me again, on PAIN OF DEATH, to quote
MAJOR CRIMES COP non-Levi Griffin March! I will now tell you about
this other item, so WHHHHOOOOOOOOPS; here goes the damn RED-STAR
SBS!!!!!!!!!!!! This fantastic dude told me that back in the summer
of the middle late nineties, on the Atlantic City beach that day,
when a seagull suddenly swooped right down on my beach towel and
stole my hairbrush in its mouth and flew away, it was not my
daughter's family in league with the Soronson Institute as I had come
to believe it was, but rather, it was another secret society that is
even more secret than the Bohemians or the Rosicrucian's, or any of
them, as its name is not even known. This trained seagull, not to get
Detective Sorvino all wet and excited here, on or off any
televangelist god-proclaiming stages or platforms, or my great father
who fits into this story but still is not one bit about PATTY &
MERRY, was sent to collect not only my DNA, but something else. This
is as far as I dare to go, since I am very angry to hear that my
friend was threatened by the Milituforce quite obviously, huh
Helen Harris of the Jersey State Troopers Club, and my great gorgeous
coworker over at Griffin Pipe's illustrious guard station. Still,
angry as I am, I won't dare carry this all the
way into the 8th
damn star of the RED ZONE, NAUT QUITE YET, AT&T MIZZ BLAKE of
1983!
MOUNTAINPEN'S
'REDLINE
CROSSING'
THERMOMETER SYSTEM is based on a
weekly average of touchy subjects mentioned, and how much
detailing secrets are revealed, and is approximately based on a
scale, that only is known by the author of
the 'BOM', Mister Mark
Wayne
Mountainpen
Huntington
Mohr, residing in
Fort Pierce, Florida, as per the years
of late 2009 through the year of 2019
of the Common-era times, and this thermometer is done in color-graph
form:
l
represents present week.
SAMPLE
GRAPH BELOW:
************************************************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-17-19
*****************************l******************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-10-19
***************************************l********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-03-19
************************************l***********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-27-19
********************************l***************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-20-19
**********************************l*************
Week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-24-19
******************************************l*****
Week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 10-15-19
*****************************************l******
You
see folks, the very same thing that makes my not being able to ever
stop being struck with ONE-STRING groupations, on counters and clocks
and everywhere all around me, is also what operates the Redfield
Synchronicity Syndrome (RSS). It is also why roulette cannot be used,
at least naut so far aniwho, to break my horrendous mother fucking
HUNTINGTON CURSE. Still, without using one long game strategy or
opposite-follow-judgment, and never ever GAMBLING as we all are
endlessly tempted to do, or the greatest of all, yet totally
forbidden by the controllers of this Earth-Planet, PARALLEL-EVENT
APPLIED TO CASINO GAMING, there is no system that won't be programmed
on a subatomic level to eventually break down. In fact, theory goes
that eventually, even opposite-follow-judgment patterns will not be
able to break the Huntington Curse. Weird patterns will come up and
the gambling nature will eventually kick in, and pow, we will lose.
Still, the one other Earthly forbidden methodology is called,
“OPPOSITE-SHOOTING”, and even discussing it seriously will cause
lots of trouble. The M2F knows how powerful this would indeed be, and
yet, I am not convinced that even this would somehow engage the
Lawtronic fucking circuitry to eventually go onto short circuit even
this method of attempting to break out of the Huntington Curse. With
opposite-shooting, I would wait for death sieges that are very bad,
and basicly somewhere between one and two days out of every three,
all year long, and endlessly, are just that; and I would use a system
that works great and do my best to win, only my bets would be close
to the minimum amount of outside bets at the table that I would be at
in the damn ass casino. Then without ever speaking a word to me, a
person who is in on this with me would wait for me to place an
outside roulette bet on any of the six layout areas, and then they
would bet the exact opposite, after the wheel is spun, and before the
croupier (dealer) would announce “No more bets”. If I bet two
nickel chips on 'RED', they would place a $500 chip on 'BLACK', and
if had bet my ten bucks on 'EVEN', they would place a $500 chip on
'ODD', and so forth. According to the past thirty years of my
gambling notes and absolute best recollections, doing this would have
made me approximately twenty-four and a half million dollars, to be
split two ways with the opposite shooter, more than twelve million
for each of us, more than enough to go and start some nice business
or buy up a franchise some place where a dude wishes to sell and
retire to Boca, Fl. Still, all things work wonderfully in
laboratories and in the fuckign minds of thought creators, do they
NAUT, Mizz Blake?
END
TRANSMISSION.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE V2
12:34
POST
MERIDIAN
MONDAY
AFTERNOON
14
OCTOBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
MONDAY,
OCTOBER 14, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WANING GIBBOUS 1:7
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 N.M.
Some
holiday? Everyone is working, the stock market is open and flying
again, the cable company is up and running, and all appears to be
very non-holiday-ish all over the nation. Even the construction
workers are outside again, and I am used to it now!
Week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-24-19
******************************************l*****
Week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 10-15-19
************************************************
THIS
INFORMATION WILL BE POSTED AFTER THE END OF THIS DAY.
I
called COMCAST CABLE, and they were sorry for all the
inconvenience that was caused me, when they canceled my movie channel
back last week. I had it put back on for a small increase in my
package fee, and all is well with the world, FOR
NOW. We all know just how damn fleeting that moment is for the
C.H.U.R.C.H., or the CHOSEN
HUNTINGTON. WEEEEEEEEEEE to that Sir
Chester-Frank, who definitely knows
exactly who he is, placing him ahead of
many others on this wovwee planet! I'm so dern mother freaking
sick of Spellchecker and grammar programs, seeing
words with dots, and then capitalizing the following word when
it is not meant to be capitalized, just because it thinks that there
was a period. I have no time to endlessly check for all these things,
and I think today's technology totally sucks. Machines are not one
bit 'smart', and these programs don't really think at all. It is all
just mathematical algorithms, and all good computer scientists know
that truth 100%!
MOUNTAINPEN'S
'REDLINE
CROSSING'
THERMOMETER SYSTEM is based on a
weekly average of touchy subjects mentioned, and how much
detailing secrets are revealed, and is approximately based on a
scale, that only is known by the author of
the 'BOM', Mister Mark
Wayne
Mountainpen
Huntington
Mohr, residing in
Fort Pierce, Florida, as per the years
of late 2009 through the year of 2019
of the Common-era times, and this thermometer is done in color-graph
form:
l
represents present week.
SAMPLE
GRAPH BELOW:
************************************************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-17-19
*****************************l******************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-10-19
***************************************l********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 09-03-19
************************************l***********
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-27-19
********************************l***************
week
ending Tuesday afternoon: 08-20-19
**********************************l*************
TWB-Featured
Cameras
Featured Cameras
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
Yes
to quote Executive ADA Jack
McCoy of New York County (fictionally),
from that all time greatest law show in television's history, (L&O),
“Ain't life a silly old dog”?
ONLY
GAMES
can
explain this whole ugly rotten diseased mess straight out of the
gates, quite literally, and yes Spellchecker, thermonuclear gates of
DOGTOWN,
so let's discuss this dog stench for a while, peeps!!!!! Remember
back when my blogs were new in 2006 and 2007, while blogging and
using the laptop belonging to Mister
Eddie 'Himacane' Lynch,
and I would type things such as two
and it would come out 'tow',
or use
and it would come out 'sue',
or games
of the gods, and it would come out as 'gasme'
which is merely games
scrambled up
alphabetically, yo? Still we're left to ponder and wonder and query
on the concept here of 'GAS
ME',
since someone
may have done just that on June the 4th
in
the year of 1983,
while I resided in that house of quintessential mystery, owned by
real estate investor Mister Jerry Pliner, at 134 Norris (kicker
garages)
Avenue, in Atco, NO
JOYSEY,
DPAESMWG! As I typed that out, the old 'space-bar-hack'
was
given to me making the words all weird and in need of repair. Still,
this is a large wild crazy ass world, and quite
an amazing place too.
Still, in all of the online cyber village called 'INTERNET', I am
just about positive that there is no other writing anywhere, that
tells the truth about the gods and their games, and
the reasons for them,
which is of course, a
distraction
for them, away from the HELLISHNESS
of
ENDLESSNESS.
Only those who have absolute realization through total enlightenment
can possibly truly know how awful this really is. So
then why did a four year boy seemingly know all about this, living
back in Levittown,
Pennsylvania in the spring of 1959?
When my mom told me that people live to be about a hundred years of
age, she thought that I was upset about humans dying after such a
short life span. I was not upset about that, as she came to learn
later on. I was upset that I had to live for that long, as in my
'spirit', I fully remembered a whole lot more than a lousy one
hundred years of Earth-Planet time.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
Now
you can live 100 years and for reasons that so far elude my reception
of Morianity, and this is a lot of it; I still cannot say why this
is. But then there are others who begin getting over loaded
practically, with Morianity, as early as age one and two years.
Again, as to the Y'S of all of this; maybe you'll end up beating me
at figuring that out, or just ''getting it'' in a Morianity-Knowing
some day, YO. WEEEEEEEEEEEEE, sir Chester-Frank, of NO-JOYSEY, my
BRAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
|
||||||||||
Oh
yes great folks, sometimes we all need to just admit that things
suck, and not play-hero like a bunch of phony ass-wipes. Put the true
face on, throw out the dam masks, and admit we all can be a pile of
total shit for the most part, and let lovely beyond white-hot
Twinbay, of Egg Harbor Township, NJUSAESMWG, be goddess damned
straight into Dogtown-USA or without the USA, just damned to HELL!
HELL! HELL! HELL! HELL! HELL!
“Hell
and murder”; huh Psyche Myrathus, YO???
My
best to your pals from 'wherever'!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
sir/ma'am; Put the true face on, throw out the dam masks, and admit
we all can be a pile of total shit for the most part!!!
CHRIS,
ED,
AND
THE
MILITUFORCE
BLOGAUD,
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
OH
THOSE MIGHTY MCGUIRE-CALLIO-KING
FAMILIES OF GOOD OLD FREAKING ATLANTIC CITY,
HUH WAYV-FM-NJ-USAESMWG???????????????
Good
old reliable Microsoft, yo!!!!!!!!
I
am so sick and tired of that evil crooked cheated mother frickin'
DOWnloaderChrome
DOW
JONES WALL STREET STOCK MARKET,
and this goddessdamn ICPE-APE
TECH
that is applied against me, since
I have barely been into my thirties,
three and a half decades ago now; that I
wanna' puke solid
brick turds right
in all of their mouths!!!!!!!
YES,
I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD
YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I
TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU,
I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD
YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I
TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, THAT THIS THING WILL ENDLESSLY GO UP AND THEY
GET THIS MAGICAL THING TO HAPPEN BY PERSECUTING POOR PATHETIC ME TO
MY GRAVE AND COMPLETELY WRECK AND RUIN MY LIFE, and one person up
there AT CRAPY TO HELL (CAPITOL HILL) KNOWS AND FULLY UNDERSTANDS MY
WO-WIZ-ME'S 100%, and that is wonderful SENATOR BERNIE
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE SANDERS!
2006-2019,
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
(BOM) BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
©
MARK WAYNE M. H. MOHR
/////////////////////
, 2015,
////////////////////////////
AT //////////////////////////,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE IS //// DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-///L-///).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS /// AND IT FEELS LIKE ///.
WIND
IS ///////, WITH GUSTS TO ///////.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---////.
THE
PREDICTED HIGH FOR TODAY IS // DEGREES!
I
do not have time to worry about a weather page right now, yo. The two
apps that were downloaded onto this cum-puke-her have been totally
hacked so the weather info on them is totally useless; FBI, State
Police, Sheriff Ken Mascara, Local PEEDEE, and ACLU!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-and a zillion more Alligator Haters
Anonymous!!!!
I
will say that it is mid-eighties, and not as humid as summer time,
but it most likely feels at least ninety, and wow is it hot in Miami,
and
it will get hotter still tomorrow,
according to the wonderful awesome and absolutely 'amazing'
WEATHER-CHANNEL
(TWC). So WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
CHRIS,
ED, AND THE
MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
|
|
|
Global Audience In Shade-Ratio Popularity:
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Times
may change, but Mountainpen's awful retched HUNTINGTON CURSE remains,
always and forever. Imagine that, Misses Messenger? I still don't
know where your life is going, gorgeous lady. So sahwee!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
why exactly, Sarah Callio Martino, somewhere in hyperspace;
trapped me in a lighthouse, and yelled my name out, over and over,
'JoJo-JoJo;
I
will never totally know.
So
let me widen the scope of the topic, so we can see this in a larger
blend of bigger pictures, and out of one tiny confined box; great
ladies and gentlemen. First, my spell-checker is disabled, so I must
close the word program out and reboot into it to activate the
anti-hack procedure. OK
I'm back,
EVIL
CHUCKIE, DAWN-MARIE, BEETLEJUICE NONSTAR, and FREDDY
ELM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
THE
WORLD IS A VERY AMAZING PLACE.
END
TRANSMISSION.
NUMDWATATES
NOTE U2
6:47
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
SUNDAY
MORNING
13
OCTOBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
SUNDAY,
OCTOBER 13, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: FULL MOON
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 N.M.
The
BLACK HAT HACKING SCMBAG MOTHER FUCKERS RIGHT
AWAY ARE HACKING ME SHERIFF MASCARA, AS SOON AS I BEGIN BLOGGING.
My fucking Spellchecker was hacked off and I had to go off and reboot
my system up AGAIN. The other UTILITY STRIKE was shortly past seven
last evening, with another COMCAST HACK SERVICE INTERRUPTION, that
knocked off the ME-CHANNEL for ten minutes or so, and later on it was
broadcasting again, BRO! This is now TWO STRIKES before the light of
day, so it counts on the same day as SATURDAY, which is almost but
not quite fucking BOTBAR after two more HITS ON ME, and NASTY FUCKING
ILLEGAL ELDER ABUSE, 'NOT ABSUE', GASME
GODS GAMERS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Despite this siege from the TV last
night, I picked up +2 units on my HPR (Hypothetical Paper Roulette),
HA-HA-HA, Curse-Creators of the mighty mother fucking GASME-GAMER
ASTRAL-PLANE GODS & GODDESSES or (Coins & coils), so a great
big fucking ass goddamn “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, for Sir
CHESTER-FRANK, who most 'definitely' knows who is is, placing him
well ahead of most “normal people”, am I right, Sir 1969 Grant
O'Neil, of the illustrious COOLEY HHH?
It
was 1976, the great bicentennial year, I was living at the Carriage
Lamp Apartments, that be somewhat name altered by way of
Redfield-Synchronicity, and future dream-visions, from the great year
of 2008; and I was minding my own business trying to watch a
wonderful comedy television show, the Carol Burnett Show, speaking of
the TV-HACK from just past seven last fucking cunt evening on the
NE-TV-CHANNEL, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Suddenly my 'peace' was quite
rudely fucking interrupted by an extremely 'annoying neighbor' from
several units down from my unit at this wovwee garden type apartment
complex where I was renting and allowing my father to live there with
me. My TV show changed from being lovely Carol Burnett, to hearing
super loud overriding audio signals from this dirt bag's illegal
high-powered citizens band radio system. Later when I tried to get it
stopped, he was using some wild terminology about 'Christmas
presents coming to my door', still present and very loud
over my (little non-Brittney Speers TV-SET),
and later saying some really wild shit about 'magic-mushrooms'.
This has all been previously blogged during the first three years of
the Blogs Of Mountainpen, or the 'BOM' for a shortened abbreviation,
yo. I cannot give all the detailed shit I truly and verily wish to
here folks, or I would be all the way across the red line zone into
the total maximum 8th star!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To quote lovely,
talented, wonderful, and great Mizz Diana Ross
of Motown and later on RCA, “I don't
need this, no how, no nothing”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What I
will say that my pal, the hubby of a psychic friend from a Woodbury
Psychic Institute from back in those seventies, days, Mister
Bill Marnie, told me that these 'CB' expressions were 'CODES',
and not to take them as personal threats against me, but that was not
the threat, not what was said, as this was merely the Astral-Plane
gamer-gods working inside of this 'rotten neighbor' to make him annoy
me, as so many have done, and still continue to do to me to this very
vely day, Sheriff Ken Mascara, kind sir; and what the threat actually
was, is the very UTILITY AND ELECTRONIC
HARASSMENT AND PERSECUTION by itself, and the actual effects on me
and my life, taking away from me, endlessly and forever and to this
very vely day, FCC; my peace of mind,
and so along comes AGENTS Condor and Falcon back on that 1988
television documentary about UFO's, and
goes into great details and lengths to discuss what happens to those
people who piss off the Milituforce by taking pictures, or getting
too much evidence of their so-called existence. I merely draw
conclusions and make points, and I cannot prove one single solitary
mother fuckign thing, Sheriff, but I know that WE BOTH KNOW
ABSOLUTELY, that you know, that I am being intentionally persecuted,
and covertly destroyed; JUST AS I CLAIM THAT I
AM ALL ALONG, SIR!!!!!!!!!! The “giant Williamstown police
officer from 1994, who I think might be Mister James Comey of the FBI
now; told me in my Highview apartment one day in the early summer or
end of spring time somewhere, “Mister mohr I don't believe your
story BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BELIEVE that my country could do such
things to you”. Hay bud, don't ever get cancer, and then apply that
attitude, yo. You know, as in, “Gee, I don't want to believe that I
have this awful fucking thing, so hey man, I don't, and I won't seek
any medical treatment”. Yeah, makes lots of sense, huh? But moving
my point along from the CB magic mushroom annoying neighbor at the
Clementon apartment complex called then, the Carriage Lamp
Apartments; skipping about three hundred smaller incidents of similar
peace killing efforts applied against me by this covert black
operations MILITUFORCE, the next HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE assault
on me was while I was residing at Jim wilson's little dollhouse
shithole on Central Avenue West, in Moorestown, New Jersey in 1988
and into 1989. Again, this has been told and blogged about more than
once before, and in some elaborated detail for all to hear about. The
phones were taken over by the local fire company, and all I could get
on my phone was some shit ass stupid “Code 2, Code 2, munikay
munikay, code 2”, damn ass dogshit, when I needed to use my legally
paid for LANDLINE TELEPHONE SERVICE! The
copyright Office has the tape of this day from 1988 somewhere, to
this very hour and day, with or without 'my car being beamed over to
Philadelphia'. You would say come perdy dern fucking nutty things
too, all of you, if SOME ROTTEN DISEASED PRICK WAS PUTTING YOU
THROUGH THIS ENDLESS HELL, TOO, I PROMISE YOU ALL THAT!!!!!!!!!! Then
came the day at the Somerdale DEATH-HOUSE when Mister Fred Winstein
and I were attempting to do a computer search at my home, on the
mighty and frightening ATLANTIC CITY CALLIO FAMILY!!!!!!!!!!! This
was back in the summer time somewhere in 1997, causing my spirit to
go all the way back to my high school and back to the year 1968, in
some parallel alternate dimensional reality, with a magical shoebox
(tablet) in my Saturn Automobile, that a bunch of Cannon's fucking
thugs stole from me, a year after he fucked up me' ol' hubcap outside
of the psychic shop called, The Gathering Place. Suddenly, the phone
service went out, then the electricity all over the house, and then
the computer began to stay on with no battery back up system, and
like total fucking HOLLISTER-MAGIC ON
STEROIDS, a message or really, A
DEATH THREAT appeared suddenly on my mother fucking computer monitor
screen, telling me in no uncertain terms to back
off of my search for answers regarding these people in ATLANTIC CITY,
NEW FUCKING ASS JERSEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The phone ran the computer,
the electricity was separate from the phone and not all connected in
the way that most services are done today in the 21st
century, and to be able to pull that large fucking demonic miracle
off, would require A WHOLE LOT OF SUPERNATUIURAL PARANORMAL FUCKING
POWER, ALONG WITH GOVERNMENTAL AND BIG-BIZZ POWER TO
BOOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But still, me' whittle ass point, is that
UTILITY PERSECUTIONS ON ME, are most
definitely a fucking HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE part
of the Milituforce harassment's used on me ever since 1986 when this
all got really going BIG HUGE HYPER TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
People,
and Sheriff Mascara, and Federal Bureau of investigation, and others
out here in the AAT Society; if I can somehow
miraculously manage to mother fucking survive until my 66th
birthday comes on December 4th
of 2020, and when my DISABILITY benefits automatically become
transferred into Social-security-bennies; I
then came leave here and MOVE TO SOUTH AMERICA, away from this
MONSTROUS FUCKING ENDLESS OPPRESSION AND PERSECUTION. The
mother fucking JEWS, never ever were persecuted as badly as this
poor pathetic pitiful CHOSEN C-H-U-R-C-H HUNTINGTON victim is being
endlessly roasted, pummeled, and killed in the fires of
DOGTOWN-ON-EARTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jane
Whore Fonda GOT ME AGAIN, PEOPLE!
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
No
matter how hard I try, seeing these groupations of mother fucking
ONE-DIGITS, is getting on my mother fucking
cunt huffing nerves, to the point where I am ready to do
things NAUT-BLOGGABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These
sicko rotten Astral-Plane gods, literally BECOME US, and as my
interesting associate over at the Griffin Pipe Company of Florence
Township, New Jersey put it back in the early part of the year of
2004, over at my Guard-Shack, by the point of view of these Olympian
gods, “Coming here and doing this, is
thought of as GOING ON VACATION”. His words, NAUT MINE,
folks, yo!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, it is one HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE GAME or put
more appropriately in conjunction with my BLOGS, it is their
'ULTIMATE GASME GAME'!
Yes,
this indeed is one big huge game of the gods, and it in all truth
people, is just as if we combined football, D&D, Packman,
Monopoly, Chess, and Twister, and so many other greats, because THEY
really are US, only we are not humanly aware of that powerful
knowledge nor do we have any waking-world memories beyond that of
perhaps some weird jumbled up wild occasional dreams that seem to
make no sense at all unless your name happens to be Mamaspizzaface or
Tobycouch. We go about our lives and many times we play many games,
some enjoying them a lot more than others, counting Mountainpen as
amongst the not enjoying so much groupation. Yes people, every
fucking conceivable game played here on the waking world Earth-Planet
is actually being played and 'enjoyed' by 'vacationing' Astral Gods
(coins and coils) who dream down into the 5th dimensional
hyperspace here-and-now as human beings, with physical bodies, and
with only some extremely limited memories of anything that is
humanly called, “their conscious mind”! Since they don't want to
remember more, peeps like me are their MORTAL ENEMIES to some degree.
This ain't a super pleasant fucking thought; but I need to have
reality, be it pleasant, or rotten to the damn-ass
core!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot live in a fake phony bullshit
condition of existence. This is one reason that I remember countless
zillions of eons while living here physically. Why deny the horrible
truth of forever-ness if we're all stuck in eternity, and believe me,
WE ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ask the great Doctor Chockra, or however he
spells his name. He just maintains a great positive mental attitude
about endlessness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll bet however that if he
truly remembered it now, consciously, he would NAUT!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION!
NUMDWATATES
NOTE T2
3:07
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
SATURDAY
MORNING
12
OCTOBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
I've
been so fucked up with all this death persecution people, that I made
some errors on this moon-phase system recently, but I have corrected
them now, yo. Sahwee, yo!!!!!!!!!!
Mountainpen's
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
SATURDAY,
OCTOBER 12, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WAXING GIBBOUS 7:7
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7
F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5
N.M.
On
the TV from yesterday, Friday, Mister Cialoni,
as now it really is Saturday whether or NAUT you went home and to bed
and got up again, yo; on the great MANNIX
show starring that old era teen idol Mister
Mike Conners, he said a powerful thing that needs to be
mentioned on this blog today, after this still fucking cunt ongoing
monstrous five day and still counting,
BOTBAR DEATH SIEGE AND ASSAULT on
pathetic and pitiful non-Ronstadt me. He said “Never
is the longest word in the English language”. We have 14
letter words like transportation and 16
letter words such as transdimensional,
BUT that trusty little word, so far as letter counting goes, of
“NEVER”
is very mother fucking powerful, and to me, it carries way more
weight than it does for anyone up here on the net reading these
words. I know what a curse that can NEVER be
broken feels like, and it is, to quote the latengrate
Mister David Charles Roth, or a close paraphrase from some very
depressing words spoken by him very late in the nineteen-eighties,
that went along the lines of, things have
become so bad for us that we just want to climb out of bed in the
morning, and plain simply die.
It is an extremely close quotation, IPYT, peeps, truly and verily I
mother fucking do!!! Not that one single solitary soul gives a rotten
stinking turd eating crap at light speed squared, but hey, I'm still
saying it, without any thrills, joys,
or Mike Crichton Disney employees whatsoever,
BRAHHHH!!!!
Lightning has told
me that my mother likes my jokes, lame as they seem to be, because
she has to, as after-all, she is my mother. Diana on the other hand
tells me that I need to soak my rotten jokes in honey and vinegar and
maybe, just maybe, they might sweeten up, or just go away completely
which will be a blessing. She of course loves to giggle in that
little eight year old girl voice that she gets when she giggles, and
the entire United States Copyright © Office has some tapes that back
up my wild claims. Still, what do you call the
fish who is NAUT innocent of refusing his morning coffee? Give
up? Gill Tea. WHAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA,
MISTER MIKE 1971 MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My
FAST AGAIN BOOSTER SYSTEM fucked
up and “stopped working” again, when
I first mother fucking booted up this CUM-PUKE-HER
(computer), to do this rotten ass early MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING
BLOG! To quote Law & Order's Mister Anderton and NY COUNTY DA,
Mister Adam Schiff, “pitiful” and I do mean mother fucking
PITIFUL!!!!!!!! It must be an awful thing that is beyond being
inconceivable incomprehensible to me, even
though I personally hate my entire family with a major fucking
passion, to literally have only one thing on their mind, day
in and day out, decade after decade after decade after decade,
and that being concentrating on one little
pitiful special ed-kid, me, Mountainpen, and fixating all of
their energy on this one thing, rather than caring about spending any
real quality mother fucking time with their so-called
loved ones, giggle-giggle-giggle,
huh lovely DIANA ZUUDLECRONESSIA ARTEEMIS
of the great PURGATORY or (Astral-Plane)????????
The
day before yesterday on BOTBAR DAY TIMES 4 OR (BOT-X-4) as I used to
abbreviate this to back before late 1997's summer before I threw away
my fifteen year long LIFE CHARTS. Someone just mother fucking hacked
me again, SHERIFF, as if you could care in the least or want to help
me one tiny bit? A black-hat dirt bag jerk off cum-puke-her hacker
just out of the fucking cunt blue, screwed up my margins while I was
typing that prior sentence. As I said sir, nothing
better to do with their life or their time, other than to endlessly
fuck with one little SPECIAL-ED-KID, pitiful, yo,
absolutely mother fucking turd eating pitiful at
light speed squared, yo BRO!!!!!!!!!!!
No Mike Soft, MOST DEFINITELY NAUT
BROadcasting, yo!!! Yes peeps, the day
B4 yesterday, on Thursday, and on BOT-X-4, I HAD TWO MOTHER FUCKING
'MAJOR' KLUTZ-OUT INCIDENTS, where shit got mother fucking spilled
all over the place. When the mother fucking diseased sicko
MILITUFORCE puts me through this much endless torture, pain, and
torment, I of course begin to lose it as the expression goes, and
then all sorts of little nasty fucking shitty things begin to happen
on top of an already fucking cunt existing hot hellish nightmare
shituation ongoing and manifesting around me and my close ass
proximity, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Another thing, well two other things, are the
continuous fucking visits by Mister M. Mortino, the ANGEL OF FUCKING
CUNT DEATH, actually some super high-tech something that first-born's
tend to be able to hear more frequently than non first born's do for
whatever the reason. Then the other super fucking ass annoying thing
is the visitation from what I somewhat half jokingly but NAUT
entirely, the disappearing demon entity, or for short, little fucking
annoying nasty-ass-imp “DISDEE”. A child who's half moronic can
see by the spelling why I call this thing by that name, yo!!!!!!!!!!
I get a continuous temporary disappearance of shit that I need that a
moment earlier was right in fucking cunt in front of my face and now
suddenly like Copperfield/Blaine magic, POOF, it's just gone, and the
gods only know how, where, when, or why. I end up eventually finding
the goddamn thing after a short while, but when I am already angry
and super ass frustrated by the events of a SUPER ROTTEN BAD BOTBAR
DAY, this on top of it sends me into mother fucking clit licking
TOTAL ORBIT, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, and this just
happened right before I began this blog, my washcloth that I had in
my hand, and POOF, like a total fucking jerk off dummy prick, I was
sitting the fucking shit on this thing all the time, me' goddessdamn
fucking BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well
peeps, I TOLD YOU THE MARKET WAS FLYING THESE
PAST TWO WEEKS, AND I ALSO TOLD YOU THAT
FUCKING DICK LICKING COMCAST CABLE COMPANY WOULD NOT BE CALLING ME
BACK FOR THEIR AFTER SERVICE PHONE-SURVEY. They had
disconnected me TWICE, after saying press one to do the survey after
I speak to their agent, and press two 'NAUT' to do their automated
telephone survey. I pressed the ONE on my phone both times, and then
POOF, I am disconnected from the call! If they had called me with the
survey, they would have received all bottom-ONE
hits from me' ol' fucking telephone, as well as a tell-all
message on their recorded-comments part of it as well, and I would
have been within all of my rights to give them this extremely bad
review, and I still plan to do this, as well as send the BOARD OF
PUBLIC UTILITIES a full report of my total fucking cunt
dissatisfaction with their goddamn ass services, after I've been a
high paying and loyal Comcast customer for a decade now here in
Florida, and long before that as well, back up there in mother
fucking NO-JOYSEY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is of course ON TOP OF
their already pissing me off by canceling my movie channel out of
absolutely nowhere, obviously on orders of WALL STREET & TRUMP,
and without even the common fucking decency of providing me with any
fair advance warning. It was done overnight, and I saw nothing at all
on my last cable bill from them concerning this mother fucking total
dogshit at light speed squared, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO 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 have two other things I wish now to vely
quickly gloss over, Mister McDowell, me'; ol' Cooley H.H. Hall school
chum from 1972, later to grow up, become a man as our teacher Mister
Dan Mackey said he would do some day indeed, and go onto work in our
great illustrious Federal Government system that his family was all
connected into, and became the great Chairman of the great wonderful
non-calendar-phone taped conversations, legal or NAUT LEGAL, Federal
Communications Commission, BRO!!!!!!!!!! Yes that time you are
correct, Microsoft, BROadcasting is indeed quite connected into
thissssssssssssssssssssssssss rotten mother fucking total stenchy
loose dogshit! Those 'two' things, not 'TOW' things, or other prior
blog GASME-GAME-GOD-HACKS of the USE-SUE
worlds of duality, twins, and other
great wild unfathomable HOLLISTER-MAGIC, are as follows: The
WAYV-FM-RADIO revenge on me since I did that fucking cunt blog about
them, and then also the ROULETTE and how it connects directly into
and totally effects the 2,000 YEAR OLD
HUNTINGTON-FAMILY-CURSE that began ever before the great birth
of the Lord Jesus Christ or (King Akoslem) as this entity is known
out in the great regions of Astrality.
Let
me do the quicker thing first, and to quote the child molester from
Ventnor and Somers Point up there in northLANDS that also are known
as NO-JOYSEY and Mudville's Disney's mighty baseball Casey; Debbie
Tinsdale of James Stoy Grammar School; “Get it over with”,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Right after I
posted up that blog and pasted in or (CAPPED) in lots of shit about
Atlantic City's great almighty top-40 Frequency-Modulation radio
station, WAYV; ALL MOTHER FUCKING HELL BEGAN BREAKING OUT AGAINST ME,
and as bad as things were since summer time, and especially after my
one day of Jury Duty had come and gone; things
literally multiplied exponentially, after I posted that mother
fucking goddessdamn blog up, and anyone who does not realize
and see this as total absolute truth, needs only to go back and see
it all for themselves by simply doing some blog-archiving on
MOUNTAINPEN'S blog site up there at the MIGHTY GOOGLE-BLOGGER system
on the almighty INTERNET!
As
for the breaking or potential breaking of a 2,000 year old family
curse that I call the HUNTINGTON CURSE, and that my cuzz-Don used to
call and refer to as the “MASON-CURSE, back when we were teens and
or 'vely' young 'NON-McDowell' adults; here is
what happened late last night with my mother fucking ROULETTE
GAME
played of course on paper and 'NAUT'
with real money, but because the mighty fucking dirt bag
jerk off scum eating diseased MILITUFAWCES
know vely vely vely well, Bob sir of the FCC and now retired I
believe; that I take this extremely seriously, for the simple reason
that the vely split second that I can totally and absolutely trust a
system again to ever work with real $$$gambling-money$$$, I will be
AGAIN POTENTIALLY BACK IN THE POSITION OF ENDING THIS 2,000+ YEAR
NIGHTMARE HORRENDOUS UNFATHOMABLE HUNTINGTON-FAMILY-CURSE, once and
for all. Maybe the GASME-GODS Salvation-Game will be over, but then
humankind can GROW UP, and stop believing in these Santa-Claus GODS
of the Astral-Plane, and as Captain fucking Star Trek Kirk says it on
several old original shows, and especially in the episode with the
GOD-APOLLO, “We've outgrown you, yo”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's
time that humankind stands on its own two feet. The fucking great
famous formula given to Mister Einstein, proves
that we all are eternal energy-beings,
and we never ever will NAUT-BE. We exist, we are the damn EXISTORS
for crying out fucking loud!!!!!! As for being able to go and
stay in the great capital city of Purgatory,
Sahasra Dal Kanwal; well, this is where shit becomes way more
complicated. And yes, DOGTOWN is vely vely
real too, and we do indeed get
DOGTOWN SENTENCES, but hey, nothing good ever comes without the price
being paid, the actual message behind the greatest game ever played
by these ASTRAL GODS,
or “SALVATION”. Don't
even get me fucking started with this today, as this simply ain't my
pernt here; Mister Archie Bunker, yo!!!!!!! No mahm, pweeeeeeeeze
do not get me going, Mizz Berlin, NO JOYSEY, Eckert from
Eckert FARMA. TANKS, and a
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE ass resounding B---O---O---M!!!!!!!! So WOW THAT,
Mizz Winfrey, with or without your great guest on your great old talk
show, who knows a tiny speck about Purgatory, describing some of it
so cool on your show in the middle nineties while I was residing at
the illustrious HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS
of WILL-I-AM-ST-OWN,
in NJUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!! Yessir and yes mahm, the MILITUFORCE
knows very well that my ability and accomplishment in defeating a
gambling game with a built in legal vig or (negative-advantage) as
many mathematicians call this thing, and all casinos have these vigs
or else they wouldn't be in fucking business vely vely long; but my
ability to do 'thisssssssssss', is not just me
verses them in some simple little thing, just as I seemed
to be aware of this and instinctively had a 'knowing' of this way
back as far as 1983 and told both my mother and Jim Burr, that
rather, if I ever could manage to really this off some how; I
just fucking knew I would have to be completely destroyed, and
sure enough, just as with all of my mother fucking Costner Cornfield
Voices or (CCV's for short), I was 100% totally
McDonald's Disco Dancing great 1988 'Prophet of Nothing' songs;
{CORRECT}!!!!!!! Yes folks, that was most likely my largest
prophetic and most definitely 'pathetic' CCV's of my entire
pink-Goddess-ESP sicko-psychic life, at least as of then in the early
fucking nineteen-eighties, YO BRO!!!!!!!!! Just since this fucking
blog began, I have now had a sum fucking cunt total of fifteen
DEATH-ANGEL pass-by's. Never before in all my mother fucking life has
Mortimer Mortino ever come and passed by my left and right sides this
many times, NAUT even back in the late eighties and early and middle
nineties, when this MILITUFLORCE dogshit around me was about as bad
as it is now, and my entire thoughts all the time, were about nothing
but ways of mother fucking committing suicide!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This has now all come back, and it really started up after middle
2015 when mother fucking criminal jerk off prick Mister Don John
Trump threw his cunt lapping hat into the ring for the United States
goddamn Presidency, yo!!!!!!!!!! I know what I am talking about,
believe that folks, yo, if you ever fucking believed a twat lapping
thing in your lives, peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes tonight's
roulette game was quite horrendous. I did manage to eek out one unit
of profit after several hours of tedious horrible play time. Not only
did the wheels never come out in any way that I had been playing
where ranges did what I wanted them to do, but every single thing
that I thought should happen in all the games played, went the other
way, and all things endlessly whipsawed and if I had placed actual
paper-bets, I would have gone straight down the cunt eating fucking
toilet at light speed squared. Even when I play 'hypothetical
roulette; folks, I still only place bets on paper that I record onto
a work-sheet. I did not like all the crazy indicators that were
showing up from the second that I started playing,so I only made what
I refer to as 'thought-bets' until nearly two hundred outcomes
happened. Eventually, I realized that no perfect patterns were going
to show up, and in real life, I would have, or at least should have,
left the fucking casino; and then driven back home to fight against
these FAWCES and GODS-GAMING GASME GAMES, on
ANOTHER FUCKING DAY!!!!!! BUTTT folks;
I wanted to beat the damn odds after this
horrible super BOTBAR DEATH ATTACK for 5 STRAIGHT FUCKING CUNT EATING
DAYS!!!!!! So I finally placed a recorded bet, and
the first one LOST. I then placed two more bets within about a
dozen spins of the wheel, or actually draws of the playing cards, and
gee and wow that, Mizz Winfrey; I had a back to
back WIN. So imagine that, Art C.
I then left this damn hypothetical fucking casino, and hypothetically
drove myself back home. I then turned on this fucking CUM-PUKE-HER
to do this blog. Boy oh boy oh boy, Billy!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
END
OF THIS NIGHTMARE EFFEN TRANNY!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment