BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION
3:10
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
MORNING
24
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020
MARK
WAYNE
MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
THE
'BOM'
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER
CHAPTER
47
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
TUESDAY,
MARCH 24, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
NEW
MOON
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5
WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5
WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
This
blog is about 1997, and not so much about 2020 or believe it or not
1986 or 1983. 1997 was one hell of a wild year, and of course was the
inverted digital year of the great last year of disco, good old 1979.
But that is only a part of why 1997 was so powerful, as this is when
SARAH KRASSLE chained me up
forever in a very inescapable way, and even let me know it in a way
that only I can fully understand. A more apropos expression for the
times of today and right now, would be, in a way that only I am able
to really GET. This ties into many things that WON'T be harped on
with this initial opening blog on this topic, as something much more
powerful, as well as quintessentially sinister, needs addressing
right now, me' people!
I
will be talking about the way DECADES OF CALENDAR TIME appear at
least with me and in my own life, all do one common damn thing. I
speak of becoming as major in a CHANGING WAY, as it is major to those
who go by calendars as we humans do, and then we suddenly find
ourselves seemingly quite magically transported one day, after the
ball in NYC drops; into a brand new decade.
Rather than continue onward with that particular item, we hold it
instead in a short abeyance here, and move still onward with the
topic of ATLANTIC CITY IN 5th
DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. You see people yo, I am now going to
admit something quite mother fucking totally HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE here, TO
MYSELF ACTUALLY, and then as a resulting factor of course, to
all of you, me' loyal following
Blogaudians!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
have been wrong on something all along, all throughout this more than
fourteen year blogging project now. Maybe not so much wrong, but
merely unintentionally in a circumstance of doing a very human thing,
misleading myself on things that in true fact, I knew better all
along and didn't want to admit it to me'self, yo BREEEEE! All along
for longer than these bogs have existed actually great people out
here, I thought that just plain
old ATLANTIC CITY RIGHT HERE
IN THIS DIMENSION,
was the true and absolute heart of all of the things going on in my
life, ever since very early
childhood. I
STAND CORRECTED BY MY OWN SELF, and the life
circumstances that reared their ugly damn head for many decades,
eventually bringing me to the new and revised conclusions that this
philosophy and idea is only half correct. Great folks; if I do not
say that the entire fifth dimensional hyperspace of MANY MANY MANY
MANY MANY ATLANTIC CITY'S are not all commingled and interconnected
into all of this, then I LIE TO MYSELF,
and then as a result, to everyone else
that I ever address, regarding my life story, unfortunately. What
made me finally see this truth once and for all just yesterday,
Monday the 24th of March? Well, laugh or cry, or do
whatever you wish as you read these words, anyone out there; but I
can thank that horrible monster we all call the Corona
Virus, Strain Identification #19. No, I won't go into the
details to how this all fits so incredibly together, at least not
right now; but there is a little time for me to discuss a few opening
details of all of these revised concepts. Since the change of many
things, along with calendar numbers, every ten years fits a lot into
these relatively new ideas, I will first go on to discuss this a
little bit more. Maybe some of you can relate, and maybe some do not
relate, so I'll only tell a tiny bit about my own life but I'll also
add in major changing events in the world as the decades changed.
First, they did not all happen on the dot of New Years day of each
new decade, but the change cannot be ignored even though it may be
off a little bit here and there, even by several months. I was born
in 1954. In 1960, my dad was about to start a job as a mobile home
salesman in Allentown, Pennsylvania. When he got his position through
his pal Mister Herb Moyer, he and my mom and me all moved to the
neighboring area called Quakertown, and lived in one of the trailers
that another friend of my dad, a Quakertown farmer who owned a lot of
acreage and planted cornfields everywhere; allowed him to place the
mobile home on, and I went on to begin my present persona-life as the
current-me physically, in a very unusual connection and communication
with a nature force that we all call “LIGHTNING”.
Needless to say as the following decade-change came, incredible
things appeared to be all happening that seemingly has to this day
still beyond inconceivable connections with this nature force. Move
to the decade after that one where I move into Robin Hill #1802 and
we need not even go there to fulfill my point. Then we move to the
nineties decade. Not only is the 'LOIS FOCA'
song, part of a prediction into this time period that was even
completely fulfilled by the hurricane named HUGO with the Atlantic
City streets all filled with debris; but Paula
King at this time, was already doing some wild things that I
was unaware of; and she was the one whom I saw in that unfathomable
DREAM, right outside the Frailenger's
Salt Water Taffy Store on Tennessee Avenue. Then in 2000 came
the great Billy Harner MUSICAL PROJECT that was all about SARAH. 2010
speaks for itself with the great kidnapping of poor little me, by
that nightmare FAMILY OF WASHCLOTHS
AND HOLLISTER'S. 2020,
well, we are not even going to go here today, oh great ladies and
gentleman out here!!!!!!!!!
Now
1997 as well as the short time era before it and after it, is a whole
other matter of course. This was the year my mother was turned into a
zombie on the day after Christmas. It was the year of that magical
day of 12 JULY on 10-SC AVENUE in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG. It was
the year of the great TIME TRIP WITH MAGIC SHOE BOX FUTURE TABLET
DEVICES. It was the year that I remembered for th every first time
that on the ASTRAL-PLANE of true existence, I AM RICTAFARIUS, and I
live in Ricktown with Lightning Goddess DIANA,
along Astral-Highway or (LINELANE) #9910, and am here dreaming that I
am inside of a physical shell-body going by the identity and name of
Mark Wayne Mohr. It is the year that I met Robert McGuire, after
having that horrendous wild hexagram throw on PEARL
HARBOR
DAY in 1996, and being given the DELIVERENCE
HEXAGRAM. It is the year that after meeting that horrible
monster psychic of Glendora, Mizz Paula Uwich
that major damn things of a totally psychic type of nature,
started happening to me. But in all of this and still lots more, we
are only going to focus on one of them on this blog, and that being,
the day I came out of that wild DREAM on the
late morning of the 12th
of July, and ended up in Atlantic
City, on Tennessee Avenue, and seeing PAULA KING, who I hadn't
seen in nearly three full decades since the time we all were on a
public transit bus late on the night of 12 July in 1970. Yes, the
separation in time was the electrical number amount of years, from
1970 until 1997, and right to the very day. There are 365 and a
quarter days to a year, so what are the odds of that, but one to
three-hundred-sixty-five for crying out mother fucking loud, yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This
all led me to write many songs that I of course COPYRIGHTED, as shown
here above!
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Beautiful
yo; we just got past the Jane Sleazeweedsdisease page here, and now
are typing on word-dock-open-office page 12 of goddamn 12, so
TEE-HEE-HEE all over again, MIZZ LILLY EVOYNE
DECARLO MUNSTER!!!!!
I
won't forget the 12th day of July in 1970, nor the 12th
day in July, 27 YEARS LATER,
while all grown up and living in that damn Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG
DEATH HOUSE, as I have called and labeled it for over a decade now on
me' MORIANITY. The first full day away from my 19-DAY stay with that
child molester, Mister Thomas J. Reale on Cornwall Avenue in Ventnor,
the town just to the south of Atlantic City, was July 13, numerically
expressed as 713. Thirteen years later while residing in Atco at the
Pliner rental home on Norris Avenue, my subconscious mind remembered
what my waking world consciousness had totally forgotten about. On
the 19th of September in 1983, I told LIGHTNING to call me
on PRIVECODE #713, and it made a gargantuan impression on my mind,
and to this day, or rather until right now TODAY, I never knew why.
We all know the wild story of Brian the
guard-house man on duty at the then Golden
Nugget Hotel and Casino, and how he told me when I arrived
down at the parking lot at just past midnight on 9-20-1983,
how Mizz Diana Ross had just been there,
right there in the guardhouse, “waiting to
speak to somebody”, and to this day he never knew that I was
that somebody. I overslept and got there late and just missed her,
hence my song lyrics of ERNIE sent me on a journey, too late, the end
of gold fate, no matter when I show! In any case, back now to the
12th of JULY in 1997, fourteen years later on. Yes we can
forget about the wild time trips back to my high school, the wild
transdimensional song that the great and
talented Mizz Mariah Carey sang before the Publishers
Clearinghouse Prize Patrol Truck arrived outside of my
Somerdale death-house door, in that parallel world, and all of it;
but let us NEVER EVER forget for one New York damn heartbeat
microsecond, how I was GIVEN THAT SARAH KARGE (CIGAR) DREAM that led
me down to Tennessee Avenue, 27 years after the bus ride that ended
my 19-day-Cornwall Avenue stay; and how there she was, right outside
of McGuire's great illustrious ALMIGHTY Pittsburgh Hotel and Erin
Bar, that lays right next door to where the great Estelle Anderson
Bassler of Ormond Beach, Florida, had her great awesome Chester
Perkowski BOLIVAR HOTEL that caught fire after the WORM HOLE
activated one night in the very early nineteen-seventies, forever
changing Tennessee Avenue, with another mighty DECADE-CHANGING
reality!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was the great PINK
GODDESS, in that wild DREAM (hyperspace interaction) on the
night of the eleventh of July in 1997, and she was standing right
there, flicking cigars against the wall of the still standing
Endicott Hotel. In this wild interaction, there was a STATE
POLICE BARRACKS in place of McGuire's
Almighty Hotel (Pittsburgh). Yes David
Roth, some 'hornets nest I opened up' there in Atlantic City;
huh bud???!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT and a great big
fucking HUUUUUUUUGE BIG ASS BUTT and but yo; the
real power is that one particular dimension in all of the vast and
virtually limitless fifth dimensional hyperspace, seemingly contains
the full truths to ALL OF THESE THINGS, and me being
so damn fucking limited to this one universe of the waking world's
here and now am unable to ever fully access these powerhouse truths,
and of course quite obviously, is the key to breaking out of this
mellenia old HUNTINGTON CURSE!!!!!!!!!! What I have never told a soul
is that I was TOLD by PINK GODDESS through HOLLISTER-CHANNELING whom
I learned of from this lovely 'witch' or 'whatever, master,
mistress', back about six and seven years ago while living right here
in this horrible P.H. BUILDING of all great JRSS all over the place;
to rent or purchase certain video movies as more answers would be in
them. But before I could, all of my damn VCR's were suddenly, and
very mother fucking mysteriously broken, and no repair shop in this
entire fucking cunt lapping county would repair them. This
ended my being able to find those answers and secret codes, or
'WHATEVER', as my old country vocalist Sir Bob Andrews would
say it back in the days of 1975, and who then became a great Federal
Congressman a decade later. PINK
GODDESS told me to do this, and to this day, I hope to do
this someday, and I mean it. So that promise can be thought of, in
the circles of CB-RADIO, and all great magic mushrooms all over the
place in magical carriages and lanterns and strobing lights on Woodie
Guthrie Islands, as THISSSSSSSSSS, since the time is apropos, or will
be in a few damn days. All I know for sure is that I must obey my
ASTRAL TEEN QUEEN, if I am to survive
this HORRIBLE DAMN HUNTINGTON CURSE!!!!!!!!
THE
END, AND SMELLING GOUUUUUUUUD!
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