AFTER
THE KNOWING, CHAPTER 9
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
THE
WEATHER IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA:
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
(WHO
GIVES A RATS FUCKING
SHIT ABOUT WEATHER)???
And
then the next day, I GET RATS IN HERE. YEAH
WORLD, WHAT A MOTHER FUCKING HUUUUUUUGE ASS IMAGINATION THE
MOUNTAINPEN HAS, YO!
DOGTOWN
TO EARTH COME IN PLEASE
CHAPTER
2
4:30
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
FRIDAY
MORNING
3
JANUARY, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
Even
in HEAVEN and HELL,
there are rules. I know this for
a total fact because here in DOGTOWN, where I am, despite a powerful
illusion that I still reside physically on the caporial Earth world
system; I have observed certain absolute
unbreakable rules around me. No matter what I do, and I have
tried everything under the mother fucking sun; I
am forever unable to break these invisible rules surrounding me,
that no one will believe no matter how much proof I ever bring to
them. This is the MAIN
RULE, just what I said.
No matter how much proof I bring to any authority, THEY
REFUSE TO BELIEVE ME. Another powerful fucking rule is that I
always have a will to fight and defeat this invisible enemy, and this
enters me into endless CHALLENGES or said better, into ENDLESS GAMES
(GASME GODS GAMES). These are of course GAMES
THAT I CANNOT EVER WIN NO MATTER WHAT! Other rules exist in
all of this shit, but these two rules are the MAIN TWO, and are all
that the GODS truly ever need to bring them endless pleasure in their
sicko GAMES with me. This takes me to the middle late first encounter
with this MAIN-DUAL-RULE, in the year of 1986. I began to pass out a
certain number of religious tracts in the city of Gloucester, New
Jersey, for every botbar day I was given, as well as every grouping
of botbar days, single botbars were 2 tracts, double botbar days were
4 tracts, triple were 6 tracts, and just four in a row began to total
up to a monster number, 2+4+6+8=20. As soon as I did this, I was
given about a 98% BOTBAR day-average that went on for mother fuckign
years until I had to give up and surrender to
the COSMIC DOROTHY OZ in all of this, as I just could not keep
driving to Gloucester City once a week,
to pass out a hundred or more tracts in the dead of night, while
driving down street after street and playing the quintessential
litterbug of New Jersey. This is when I learned that 'THEY' WILL NAUT
back down, and then I came to remember just how the 1983 telephone
harassment was impossible to ever get to the bottom of either, and I
just had to finally mother fucking give up; as it was just utterly
non winnable. Whatever this magical invisible Omnipotent powerful
'FAWCES' were, THEY COULD NAUT BE DEFEATED, NAUT MOTHER FUCKING EVER.
Recently on my blogging project, I have once again attempted to see
if this ABSOLUTE FUCKING RULE COULD BE BROKEN, and it CANNAUT! I
speak of the RED-LINE-STAR-CROSSOVER SECRETS
THERMOMETER SCALE, and my major unrelenting tattle tailing of
great things. They would NAUT back down, and
again, things only got progressively mother fucking worse and worse
and worse for me! But there is indeed a
positive, and an upbeat 'TWINBAY' note to this silver lined dark
fucking cunt cloud. NOW I will do WHAT I
WANT TO DO, and no longer do things JUST WITH THE MOTIVE AND GOAL OF
ANGERING MY ENEMIES so that hopefully they will back off this
shit that they do to me, because they WILL NAUT; and so
I am just making a damn horrendous fucking shituation WORSE by
continuing to fight a war that is NOT WINNABLE! By doing this,
I will begin doing more things that I need to do and want to do
without concerning myself one bit with 'THEM'. Knowing the rules is
always 90% of any battle, and then successfully applying reason and
some sort of logical science to what has been learned, is the
remaining 10% of the battle, EVERY DAMN
TIME! To quote David Roth in a wild security guard
gatehouse conversation on Valentine's Day of 1988, when he got there
to relieve me at the American Honda Plant on Gaither Road in Mount
Laurel, NJUSAESMWG, just past twelve noon, while we were discussing
these OTAMM ENEMIES, and the Copyright Office has a copy of this
conversation to this very day and is obviously where Dick Wolf got
his Alice Simmonelli idea; I said something along the lines to him
of, “How can they keep always winning and doing all of this to us
and getting away with it, and why can't we fight them”?, and he
responded back in a deafening series of super loud shouted words,
“Because we've got fuckign enemies, and these enemies have fucking
power, and we don't”! anyone can go and listen to this at
the United States © Office, as it is all a part of The
Epitome of Harassment musical project PART 2, dated 1988, with
the title track called, “Prophet of Nothing”,
the song that had an entire Mickey-D dancing away one day while it
was playing at a drive-thru on my car radio! My point is simple in
all of this. POWER is everything,and these HALLS FAWCES have a
totally mother fucking unlimited SUPPLY OF IT. Also, I HAVE NONE AT
ALL, and they will keep me down and oppressed for ever, as
this is part of the DOGTOWN
GAME
RULES
FOR ME!
I
sprayed an entire can of RAID, as well as placed an entire box of
rodent, as well as roach poisonous pellets, all over the apartment;
and IT IS NAUT STOPPING MY PROBLEM.
I no longer can eat here, or cook here; and
will be moving out of here in about three months. I will have
to go out to eat, and I always sleep with bright lights on to avoid
being eaten up alive in here!
There
is a lot of logic behind why nothing works for me. If I do a music
project, they mind control the people I pay at studios to produce it
for me to do a lousy and unimpressive job, every single time. I can
tell anything in the universe on these blogs, but it falls only on
the ears of the same forty or so secret agent enemies who basicly are
doing these to me in the first place, or to quote Ron Wirtz Senior,
at the CCPO, back in 1991, changed and converted into Morianity
verbiage here; I am merely communicating with “the enemies who are
making funny faces back at me on the computer”. Ed Himacane's
promise to me was totally WORTHLESS, and it was MY OWN FUCKING FAULT
FOR NOT REALIZING THE POINTLESSNESS TO THE ENTIRE THING, and never
even wasting my time! But still, one positive note comes from the
full realization of all of this, and as said earlier and in
reiteration now; I will simply do what I WANT TO DO FROM NOW ON, and
realize the absolute futility of trying to ever secure help from a
single damn ass soul. It is fixed in stone and fire, DOGTOWN that is,
and my title on earlier year blogs here in Florida gave me that
message way back then before I currently in 2020 came to see it as
crystal clearly as Sir Johnny Nash!
END
TRANSMISSION.
DOGTOWN
TO EARTH COME IN PLEASE
CHAPTER
1
This
is the worst mother fucking shit I have had to suffer through in
decades, and is every bit like being back in the cunt chewing
nineteen-eighties, only NOW, I know why it is all happening, and it
goes far beyond MUFON or humankind religious bullshit, and Paul Evans
Pedersen was correct all along when he made that wild statement to me
late in 1998, “Mark, your problems go beyond religion”!
I
am under a HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE SKY ASSAULT TODAY, 2 January of 2020, with
giant menacing chemtrails all over me in my Fort Pierce town here in
dick licking Florida.
I
also have the next door maintenance peeps banging around and slamming
shit next door to me, and last night at around half past nine or so,
the jerk off noise from there was also bad for about a quarter hour.
At the same time that this began last night, I began to get brutally
assaulted with ROACHES and RATS. When I paid my rent today over at
the mother fuckign worthless and corrupt Housing Authority, I told
them I am going to be leaving very shortly and will keep them
informed and updated. I told them what I think of this corruption and
that after I am gone and out of here, I plan to write to a lot of
authority agencies to describe what I suffered through here
ILLEGALLY!
It
is now five past noon on this cunt lapping rotten second day in
January on this miserable ass-wipe Thursday afternoon. It is hot and
sticky AGAIN here as well, but as stated, ALL THESE THINGS HAPPEN
TOGETHER WITH ME HERE IN ENDLESS FUCKING DOGTOWN, so what else is
goddamn asshole new around here? SLAM SLAM SLAM BANG, WHAT A FUCKING
ENDLESS NIGHTMARE, as if you could care less about a poor elderly
legitimate and law abiding citizen of your rotten miserable county,
my great wonderful SHERIFF, SIR!
The
MILITUFORCE has brought in 2020 as bad
as they could with a 100% mother fucking
MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE FOR BOTBAR on this date of 2 January,
2020. Just to crack into an even 50-50, I would now need two
consecutive NON-BOT DAYS, Mister 'Mayor Callio'
of Dogtown-Halloweentown on the ATRAL PLANE, and yes, Mister
Michael Crichton too!
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