THE END OF MORIANITY

DOGTOWN TO EARTH COME IN PLEASE

CHAPTER 14

11:16 AM ON A LATE TUESDAY MORNING,

JANUARY 14, 2020

This is the absolute worst year of my entire life and it is beyond hell on Earth. I had a blow out with my next door nabe about his very loud sound systems, and he informed me that he has surround sound television and a booming subwoofer stereo system. He began playing is junk at shortly past 8 this morning, and it is on and off day and night. I finally called 911 at half past ten or so this morning and the police and public housing met me at my door and went to his door. He seems to be a Mexican-American gentleman around age forty or so with a deep stern voice who thinks he should be able to do whatever he wishes and he definitely does not like us old farts at all, and made that abundantly clear to me. I don't have the money to move but I will move. The details are not necessary. Every week is worse than the week before, and this is on a FINAL DEATH RATTLE ROLL, and I know it, and I have goddamn accepted it. I know that there is NO GOD, not the god the Christians want so desperately to exist, and it is very pathetic to me that I could tell them the truth that their god is PURE EVIL, and a sicko teenaged girl with infinite power who most definitely despises me and wouldn't know what to do with Herself if she couldn't pick on me. I knew if I did the blog that I did yesterday, my previous chapter, that their evil music industry would strike me, and remember folks, I TOLD YOU most absolutely that this was all going to happen to me, because IT FOLLOWED A PRECISE PATTERN, it was exactly as it was before late in 1981 or early 1982 somewhere at 1802 Robin Hill, when that horrible monster PLAYBOY BUNNY gal-pal of Mizz Harry, did what she did, maintenance helped her move in just as they did here with this new dude over at unit 605, and both times, it is PARTY SHITTY CITY and major death noise for me. One thing good comes from all of this. Now people when mad at me call me an old man when they point to me, and wow, you know what. Maybe dying won't be any more pleasant for me than living fucking ever was, but I know now that someday soon, THIS INDEED WILL BE ALL OVER, as once I was young, now I am old, AND SOON I WILL BE DEAD AND GONE, and even this turd goddess out there won't be able to hurt me in this same way ANY LONGER. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA, LORDESS NEECY KRASSLE CHAIN STEALER! Thank you for allowing all of this nightmare to befall an honest law abiding citizen, oh mighty sir SHERIFF KEN MASCARA, thanx a whole lot!

I suspected for over a decade that Patty and Merry were all mixed up in my nightmare. And it wasn't hard to put together the ultimate GODS-GAME of using female RA's to somehow be part of this, as first off, when the Love Is for Carpenters song was sung to me by Scylla Goddess, this is the ultimate female RA. All those that followed were merely continuations of the game. I also knew all along that whoever was running on the beach that day who yelled over to me as he passed me, “I'm late, I'm late”, sort of like 'Alice In Wonderland', with her famous quotation carbon copy; is also all mixed up in this incredible game from what mortals call and always have called, “the other side”.

End Transmission, & END OF MORIANITY.

(AT LEAST FOR QUITE SOME TIME AGAIN.)