Well
folks, this past week was worse than anything that I have suffered
through so far since my HUNTINGTON CURSE
began to grow major worse after the experience of AUGUST 15, 1986
while residing in that NIGHTMARE HOME ON MARLTON PIKE IN CHERRY HILL,
NEW JERSEY, owned by lawyer/realtor Sir Richard BARF Karpf. I have
never ever had this much hacking into all of my systems, my computer
used to do my blogs, my bank accounts, and my very life. When I say
life, I mean life connected things,such as where any person lives,
works, operates, and whatever. I have very recently done a small
amount of internet-google research, and have learned some perdy dern
fucking cool things about blogs, and potential money making
connections to and with them. Also, I have learned that to properly
grow a blog, a blogger must follow certain protocol procedure as well
as become acquainted with and gain knowledge of, many
internet-related items, all of which are as Greek to me as the
goddamn shorelines of Athens! But I learned that I should try and
make my blog look as nice as I possibly can with my very limited
knowledge and computer skills, and also, to repeat often, many things
already discussed, and hopefully even make better connections by way
of links and keywords and all sorts of blogger-tools available, IF
THAT IS, A BLOGGER IS NOT POOR LITTLE ASSHOLE IGNORANT ME,
at least ignorant to the digital age. I was once the KING of
the analogue world and even had the great United States Copyright
Office ask me how I did certain things, back late in the year of 1984
while residing on Highland Avenue in Cinnaminson, NJUSAESMWG. But the
tide shortly turned and I never stepped into the new world of the
DIGITAL REALITY. This has caused me more grief and shit than I care
to talk about let alone even fucking think about right now, yo! I
could rant on here, but will save my major ranting for extremely
unpleasant other things to follow on this blog.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP
AND HIS MOB,
CHAPTER
32
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020 the 'BOM'
MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
FRIDAY,
MARCH 6, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
GIBBOUS 4:6
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.
Some
of the things that will be reiterated here, in following the advice
of bloggers in general with more successful blogging careers than
mine; is why I will be touching on topics recently posted, such as
the gods coming here in various ways, including as crystals to be
used in our electronic systems one day, long after the world cooled
down and began to work its way towards the human-program or 'life' as
we all know it, finally coming into being. Also, I am going to talk
about the ESS and the connections with this into COMCAST as well as
the further backing up of all of it with the synchronized proof of
the James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS), in so far as my
musical projects of the early nineteen-eighties relating to my
daughter's ages at that very same time, and how mighty wonderful
COMCAST used that old advertisement on television that showed that
telephone number ending in 1484, sort of another add or subtract
(ONE) deal of the Jane Fonda (ONE-NUMBER-HARASSMENT) when we look at
how later on in this new century, the great Copyright Office used
their system of numerically cataloging my musical projects, number 13
in 1983 being the one in question, and of course the title of my
daughter's music project in 2009. So again, here is my posted up copy
of the Copyright Office's home-page, showing my music projects, and
for reasons of obvious hack, I am not able to update the newest
post-2013 year page that SHOUYLD SHOW MY 2013 MUSIC PROJECT CALLED
“You'll Be Crossing Over”, so projects from 1-28, and as stated,
nu,ber 29 and my final music project has been HACKED OUT OF
EXISTENCE, just as someone paid off that lady to steal my 2013
Copyright Office form that day that I hired her to clean my
apartment, and she was the only one that could have taken it, as she
took many othe rthings from this place as well on that day, cans of
soups and other kitchen cabinet food, blood pressure medications that
obviously have some resale value so these damn druiggies around here
can keep their fuckign noses in the smoke, and other items went
missing, along with my recently sent COPYIGHT FORM for my 2013 music
project, and then I later learned that a couple years after she had
done that, she got a massive stroke in her bathroom and she went back
to the timeless fucking Purgatory, as Magnesonic
obviously sent her there, yo!
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I
cannot help but wonder if there is not some really 'HUUUUUUUUUUGE'
significance to the number 1496, at least from the point of view of
the great illustrious COMCAST? Still, we cannot always know instantly
what we are seeking after. Even the JRSS has its limitations, and to
any honest and sincere seeker, many dots will connect eventually, and
led us all to great truths. As we wait, we can always quiz the
magical kitty-cat Sir Gawky Gaukauk, by
downloading my APP at the GOOGLE
PLAY STORE. Am I naut correct here, Mizz
AT&T Blake from 1983? Gee willagars for crying out fucking
loud, people! In any event it still is four years after mighty SIR
Christopher Columbus supposedly discovered THE
AMERICA'S in 1492. But the great Mayflower
Ship as well as the hotel in Atlantic
City, all came after that; and yes, I do naut believe any of
these things are some silly ass random chance coincidence. Sorry, but
I just fucking don't! So sue me, big Katy!
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
DEAR
GOOGLE-OWNER OF THE BLOGGER:
Allowing my legally
photo-bucket photo, that I paid good damn money for in 2006, to be
endlessly screwed with on a blogger's account; oh great mighty
GOOGLE; is tantamount to a major
violation of the UNITED STATES
CONSTITUTION and its great
FREEDOM OF speech 1st
AMMENDMENT, as that photo is of MY
LIKENESS, and identifies and
associates me with my blogs, OFFICIALLY, and you are allowing this
UNFAIR BUSINESS AND INTERNET PRACTICE TO KEEP HAPPENING WITH MY
ACCOUNT!!!!!
OH
CHESTER-FRANK, SIR!
I
mean, to quote Queen Katy
and myself, “This is truly WEEDEEKAWUSS”!
So
I now say to this evil rotten wicked world in all parallel realities:
'YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, AND ALSO,
MY
VELY BEST TO THE NATIONAL AIRSPACE SYSTEM
AERIAL REGULATIONS, AND YOUR FAA-TC-UNCLE
FROM POMONA, N.J., AND A BIG-ASS WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'.
SOOOOOOOOOO, AC,
AND
VIVA MORIANITY
Yes
Russ old pal, those Haddon Avenue mean statements can hurt people,
yo!
'KRYSTAL'S
BALL'
EXPLORING
THE UNCONSCIOUS, using this APP:
All
the items in cosmos are out of 81
possible realities, with some of them connected
into each other, while others NOT.
Using
this formula allows us to make ultimate decisions!
© Krystal's Ball
Guarantee
and disclaimer information:
Anyone
using this and is not satisfied,
can have $5.00 back!
Publisher: Krystal's Ball
Rating:
Price: 0.99 USD
(ninety-nine pennies) Just
how cheap are folks?
The
joke is that this is worth 100,000 bucks, and I would say this to any
damn district attorney in this nation, as I know how powerful this
thing really truly is.
You
will have to prove to me that this does not work for you, I am no
fool!
INVENTOR,
MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR. ®
DOWNLOAD
@ GOOGLE PLAY STORE
Krystal's
Ball was developed by Professor Mario Eraso, slong with some of his
math and computer science students; at the great Miami, Florida, USA
University, FIU (Florida International University), right during the
time that in my opinion, the 8th
Street Bridge suddenly collapsed for no rational reason, and was done
by MILITUFAWCES!
I cannot prove most things I say on the BOM, so as I told a friend of
mine just today while out on some local damn errands, yo; “If you
can't prove something, it never appened”, quoting lovely Judge
Judith Schiendman and also any legal scholars as well, I'm quite
sure. HACKERS disabled my spellchecker System aGAIN, so I need to go
off the OPEN-OFFICE and reboot up again to clear out ther hack. Okay
there Evil Chuckie and Dawn-Marie King, 5th
Cuzz 3 in-law removes from lovely Patricia H.H. HOLLISTER, me'
whittle mommie's office coworker from the late sixties and into the
seventies! Mike McNulty would say this perdy dern perfectly right
about here should he be in tyhis room with me, an di fully realize
thissssssss! I will quote him from 1971 out in Wexton, Pennsylvania,
USA-ESMWG, “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I was going through the worst death siege in the world yesterday, and
was on the telephone with the Comcast peeps regarding my HACKED OUT
FROZEN SERVICES AND SCREWED UP ACCOUNT; their machine would ask me
things and yet when I said things back they could not hear it on my
end. So then they said press one for YES and press two for NO, and
even though I firmly pressed the ONE, they still could not hear it
and I could not confirm what I needed to. These electronic fucking
super annoying wizardry tricks of the Merlin-Milituforce go all the
way back to the nineteen-seventies and only got far fuckign ass worse
in the middle eighties after my August of 1986 hellish situation took
place that night in my bedroom in the BARF-KARPF rental home, where
life changed forever, and without one bit of assistance from Mister
Chester Perkowski, Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, or the great
All Mighty PINK-GODDESS Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle! A moron
dim-witted snot nosed punky child can see what is happening with
that dumb ass fucking trick. They simply have a way of muting out
anything on my end, just as I myself could mute things from my end
from a touch of a button on my own land-line telephone. The only
difference is that they are interfering with the life of someone, and
persecuting someone, ILLEGALLY, and have been doing this for decades
now. Not one mother fuckign soul will believe my sad tale of woe
straight out of the damn gates of HELL, AKA (DOGTOWN) in the
Purgatory/Astral Plane.
Yesterday,
lots of CHEMTRAILS were up in the sky around Fort Pierce and my area
in general. So far these MILITUFAWCES have not poisoned me
sufficiently to cause me any more inability to make it to me'
bathroom disasters, but that will happen as it always does, and quite
reliably, usually about two to four times each season (13 weeks), and
this constant has gone on for decades. And again, if something was
just really wrong with me, I would have died from that illness a very
long time ago, would I naut? So don't go throwing that bunch of lolly
pot slop logic up at me, as I ain't damn hearing it. My mom used to
say to me over and over, each time I would grown and moan about car
broblems, “Mark, it's an old car, you can expect it”. Well, I
know the odds of things and became quite the expert of odds and
chance an dplayed professional Roulette in the Jersey casinos for the
better part of the year 1986 and won money consistently, so I think I
am better qualified to know when shit is not what it seems to be. Of
course, ?I can always expect others around me to call me a kook and a
crack-pot,and they do.
Mountainpen’s Blog
Just
another WordPress.com weblog
CRACKPOTS
FROM NEW JERSEY
WFMU
INTERNET RADIO CRAZY CURSING DUDES
Listen!
If you are a copyright owner
and believe that your copyrighted works have been used in a way that
constitutes copyright infringement, here is our DMCA
Notice.
«
Classical Jew’s Harp Music (MP3s) | Main
| “If
You Do Not Like, Buy a Record By the Caetano and Do Not Bother Us,
Fuck You." December 12, 2006, More Crackpots- Meet Mark
from NJ (MP3), MORE OF THESE HATS ARE AROUND THE AREA OF FORT PIERCE,
FLORIDA. READ SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS AROUND THE 500-600 CHAPTER NUMBER
RANGE, AND THEN CLICK ON AN OLD REMADE SONG FROM 1983, WOW MISTER
MACY, IS THIS THE FIRST TRUMP, THE LAST TRUMP, OR THE MARK OF THE
BEAST, AS INDEED, 1+2+3+4 ALL THE WAY UP TO +36 WILL INDEED EQUAL
666, GEE REALLY, COPYIGHT OFFICE OF 1988? HAY, IT IS ALL DOWN THERE
FOR THE RECORD. YOU CAN CLICK HERE FOR MORE, ONLY BELEIVE THIS FOLKS,
THE MOUNTAINPEN NEVER TITLED ANYTHING, “THE MEANING OF LIFE”,
SOMEONE MUST HAVE ADDED ALL OF THIS TO THEIR DEGRADED COPY TAPES,
FROM WHAT WAS STOLEN WHEN THEY BOOSTED MY CAR STEREO AT NORTHEAST
PHILL’S FRIENDLY RESTAURANT ON THE ROOSEVELT BOULEVARD IN THE
FRIKKIN NINETIES. ALL I EVER DID WAS SAY, AND I’LL QUOTE, FROM
1983, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, SO CLICK HERE: DO NOT
CLICK HERE, THIS IS ALL DEFUNCT AND GONE!
GUESS
WHAT, SOMEBODY REMOVED THE
PHOTO OF THE 'SUPPOSED ME', AS OF 21
APRIL IN 2014. I BELIEVE THIS WAS DAWN'S
BD.
At
the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl
Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New
Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon,
roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses
in various telephone conversations.
Station
Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a
CD called “The Meaning of Life.” The back copy states that it
was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the
same title. He’s really difficult to listen to, for a couple of
reasons- The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the
conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a
microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was
standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane.
Completely, violently insane.
Mark
claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.
His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of
the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also
that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.
Covertly, of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.
(Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU’s
own Jason Forrest isn’t clear.)
Here
then, are three selections from Mark’s version of reality:
If
you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius
Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now,
if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cover my windows with
aluminum foil.
Posted
by Listener
Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio
Mysteries, MP3s,
New Jersey,
Religion |
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Comments
“The
recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”
I
don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could
have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.
Posted
by: Goyim in the AM | December
12, 2006 at 02:42 AM
…the
link for “Android & Angel” is screwed up. Y’all may
want to fix it…
Posted
by: King Daevid MacKenzie | December
12, 2006 at 04:01 AM
Sorry
about that! I just fixed it.
Posted
by: Listener
Therese | December
12, 2006 at 09:02 AM
I
think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns
and christ-blocking shades.
Posted
by: Steve PMX |
December
12, 2006 at 12:03 PM
Sweet
Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could
be real, I’ve known folks like him.
Posted
by: K. | December
12, 2006 at 12:52 PM
Just
sounds like someone responding to internal stimuli, there are
many people like this probably an hour’s drive from anyplace in
the Northeast. How is this different than getting enjoyment
watching a man with a club foot trying to walk?
Posted
by: bartelby | December
12, 2006 at 11:14 PM
Hello
My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a
child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each
other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They
feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name
but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born
in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on
the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have
never been able to find anything on him except his name and the
names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some
of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you
describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″
tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90
minutes I’ve ever experienced.
Posted
by: Chris
Arter | March
06, 2007 at 06:27 PM
I
clicked on the Aquarius link to find Mark from NJ’s CDR, but it
was no longer listed.
Posted
by: maledoro | August
07, 2007 at 06:54 AM
Aaah,
very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings
has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album
“Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream
Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what
this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!
Posted
by: Fairlight | September
22, 2008 at 02:34 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:19 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:21 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:25 PM
http://mountainpen.wordpress.com/
Posted
by: Goyim in the AM | February
24, 2009 at 05:04 PM
Hi.
I got to this page while reading about music played on the ‘Jews
Harp’. I’ve been searching, for a loooong time, for a song
that was played one lazy August afternoon on WFMU, around 1980,
or earlier.
It
was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main
melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on
Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung
monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging,
groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy
faaaaavoooriiiite”.
When
it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher,
psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word
‘things’.
Is
there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know
what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of
it?
It’s
been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song
I’ve ever heard except for this one.
On
that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s
‘Sandwiches of You’
I’ve
listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and
it wasn’t any of those.
Thanks,
for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr
at earthlink dot net
Posted
by: Tony NYC | May
14, 2009 at 10:44 PM
This
fella is MOST DEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with
him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark
screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop,
for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah
Krassel, and that the Atlantic Ocean
is the Goddess Stacey. Moreover, he
is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the
Carey family (Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and
NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using
black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space
with chem-trails, and sending
Atlantic City-residing life guards
and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him
off-guard. The only problem being
that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re
out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his
latest blogs.
Posted
by: Razzy McThaxton | March
16, 2012 at 09:00 AM
This
is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.
The
world is a gigantic
BROKEN
TELEPHONE
GAME.
We all played it at least once, and for anyone unfamiliar with it, a
line is formed, and at the start of the line, someone is given a
message on a note to be whispered into the ear of the person next to
them down the line. When the final person gets his or her message
whispered into their ear, they write down what they hear. It always
varies in quite extensive ways from the original note; let
me goddamn assure everybody out here. Still, I do
appreciate it people tell other people that indeed, “I
am for real”. I am you know, and basicly, no one believes
me. That is all part of these powerful Astral
Plane gods and their endless GAMES that they play with each other, as
well as all of us here in mortal life. The reason that they do
it is so simple and so hideous that all of this is being covered up
by what Mountainpen and Morianity labels, the MILITUFORCE. It is not
aliens or flying saucers, I cannot ever stress this enough. The
entire Project Bluebook was canceled permanently in December of 1969,
the very exact same time that SARAH came to me in that beyond WILD
DREAM, stole my motorcycle chain in the dream, told me that it would
be gone when I woke up and looked for it,m and sure enough, I did,
and it was really gone, and SHE WAS RIGHT!
Then came the unmistakable series of events that followed. That same
morning on the school bus with that giant slowly dissolving
CHEMTRAIL in the skies, all over the entire county lasting for more
than an hour, with six points, a full three crossing asterisk jet
vapor trail. Then a few nights or weeks later somewhere, Russ Razzy
Thaxton comes over at one in the morning to my apartment somehow
knowing that my mom would not be home, and got me to burn the only
book that told about all these wild incredible ATLANTIC
CITY PEOPLE, called by me back then in 1969, the “BOOK
OF BEACH”. As any one thing, this would all be amazing and surreal
and inconceivable enough. Yes alone and by itself, any one of these
things would be quite weird and unfathomable.
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, oh all great
Fort Pierce 2010 year Library WORD PROGRAM HACKERS, and great
wild dreaming hyperspace BUTTERCHEESE's and
daughters, walking the grounds of
Starburn Outreach Development Corporation property headquarters areas
of Pennsylvania; all of these events
happening in a succession order along a perfect linear timeline that
mortals live on while interacting in STM (Space-Time-Mind);
that is a horse of a totally OZ-CITY different damn color,
yo! The chain DREAM, the Asterisk-chemtrail, Russ coming over and
knowing my mom would be out somehow, getting me to burn my “BOB”
as I call it in an abbreviation, and finally, the end of PROJECT
BLUEBOOK occurring all at this very same point in time, a
military US AIRFORCE PROJECT that had been ongoing and operational
for more than twenty mother fucking years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
By
the way, in case anyone has ever had the thought cross their mind
that many things are posted up that only tell parts and pieces of
things that at other places on my blogs a lot more is elaborated on,
and that I the Mountainpen have done this to make each individual
viewer do their own mind bending speculations on many things about
me, well; tyou are absolutely one hundred fuckign percent CORRECT AND
ACCURATE, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What
the Dogtown good is any of this blog besides a gargantuan absurd
WASTE OF MY TIME AND ENERGY AND YOUR TIME, if I DID NOT PLAN THINGS
THIS WAY. I mean come on, everyone is different. Each person sees
this life is slightly varying ways from all other persons. We all
know this, but we tend to forget about that truth while lost in the
endless pursuits and engagements of our daily lives of mostly damn
drudgery. Tell me in all open honesty folks, am I really wrong about
that here, yo BRAH? Now there are other things that are not working
like this on this now fourteen plus year blogging project with two
and a half years off for a major needed recuperative vacation. For
example, I did not remember on a waking level when I had that wild
dream (hyperspace-interaction) back on fucking 5 October of 2008
while living with the King family at Judge Rasso's rental home at 65
Middle Road in Hammonton (Blueberryville), NJUSAESMWG, that this was
no dream, but actually was surfacing as a repressed memory. Still,
Morianity's concept that dreams are interactions within the vast and
virtually limitless fifth dimensional hyperspace of the metaverse,
where other parts of ourselves live real physical tangible lives and
separate only due to different decisions made by all of our
alter-ego's everywhere, and thus, the psycho-analysis here is
somewhat technically accurate but is playuing out on a much larger
and nearly infinite stage of possibilities. Still, that so-called
dream did actually happen right here in this waking world, while
visiting my cousins up on Long Island during the Christmas Holidays
of 1972 when my daughter was a tiny child. I witnessed that horrible
chase up the stairs, and the intense anger of everyone in the house.
The dream was just myself here trying to reveal needed memories long
forgotten about, so that I would be able to tie the Atlantic City and
Sarah Krassle stuff all into things, or at least, try to. Anyone
wishing to review earlier JERSEY BLOGS that range in annual
chronology between the years of 2006 through 2009, can do so by
clicking onto the five different places that are posted so often by
me that show these earlier blogs or how to get to them so that the
newer Florida blogs from 2010 through 2020 current times, will make a
whole lot more damn sense to peeps, yo! But my point to all of this
is that yes I do many times want people to get half or less than the
full story on some of these things and then by way of their own
life's experiences, start drawing their own conclusions, beyond just
stupid ass know-it-all Mizz Listener Therese
from WFMU, (Posted
by Listener
Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio
Mysteries, MP3s,
New Jersey,
Religion |
Permalink
Tweet
This! ).
Still
folks, I love the freedoms of the democratic way and wouldn't ever do
a thing to alter any of that, and she is most definitely entitled to
her opinions, but all I'm saying here is that I hope that some other
more open minded peeps out here someday somewhere, will indeed do
just that, and not just laugh and call me the JERSEY CRACKPOT,
because I assure you that I am not fucking crazy!!!!!!!!!!! All of
these things have happened to me, and they are STILL
ONGOING right to this very goddamn day. So I believe Sir
Chester-Frank should he be right here in this apartment now and
looking over me' shoulder, would move me' hands away from this
keyboard long enough for him to type out his very fave thing and
without any Jews Harps involved at all,
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!
The
next thing I need to do is remind my BLOGAUDIANS about the various
ways that I have told you that the Astral-Plane GODS can arrive here
in our physical cosmos system, and come here to play all of their
endless stupid games with we poor mortal frail buttwipe peeps. These
ultra high energy gigantic coins and coils have to play games to
distract themselves from the hellishness of endlessness in the
timeless Purgatory, (ASTRAL-PLANE). Only high intensity games can
indeed seem to successfully distract these GODS/GODDESSES from this
nightmare 'condition-interaction'. To quote Sir Dennis Snyder of Elm,
New Jersey, “And that's just reality, son”. But more than just
reality, it is a NIGHTMARE ON MOTHER FUCKING
STEROIDS. Mortals think eternal life, or their concept of
it, is some great wonderful thing, when in truth; all
things need to be reversed to accurately depict and reflect real
TRUTH, and the BIBLE is filled with
scriptures saying just that.
Reverses being true is also shown and reflected at al off us
continually right here in waking life or on the PHYSICAL-PLANE.
The sun 'seems' to go around the Earth, (reverse-truth). The world is
obviously flat, (reverse-truth). The majority is always correct,
(reverse-truth). After-all, there are lottery
winners and there is the 'smart-money'
of the business world that comes right up in our face to absolutely
prove me' point, peeps, and you all know it! Still, everyone insists
that going with a majority just has to be right, and any moron can
see the world is flat and the sun comes up and travels across our sky
around our world, and finally goes down on the other side of it. Then
great masters of ancient wisdoms and guru's and even the greatest
master, the Lord Jesus, told us that it is better to serve than to be
served. This to the business world is absurd. How about another
famous biblical quotation to further prove me' pernts here, Sir
Archibald Bunkerqueens on or off the 'terlits'. “The last shall be
first and the first, last”. So don't tell me that my LAW OF
REVERSING SEEMINGLY TRUE ILLUSIONS, is all 'fullabulla' here, yo.
Thank you great peeps everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
there are three ways that these Astral-plane gods travel here into
mortal life. One is through the Exploratronic Supermind society (ESS)
that somehow it appears that the almighty COMCAST CABLE SYSTEM seems
to be all interconnected in through some extremely mysterious way.
This involves becoming a TYPE-3-Exploratron. I have told all about
this. The other is sending their Astral-Plane vessels into what there
is termed a 'Groupation' where many coins and coils all form together
to form what we seem to think of as Ball Lightning, or other unusual
sightings and shapes with flashing colors up in the skies. The third
way is coming here in the Nuclear-Programmed CRYSTAL formations, so
that eventually whenintelligent life does spring forth such as here
in this world in modern days and times, we mine these crystals and
make all of our electronic and silicon devices, transistors, tubes in
earlier times, and chips in more modern eras. But all of this is not
possible WITHOUT CRYSTALS, and these entities have all come toPLAY
WITH US, in so many ways, and no one out here but me is onto this,
just as in that marvelous fictional SYFY TV-SHOW called, Star Trek,
TNG with ensign Wesley Crusher, and I think the episode was called,
“THE GAME” but I could be wrong. In this great show, Weslwey was
the only one on the entire Starship Enterprise who became aware that
playing this game that allof the crew was playing, was causing them
all to be under the control of some alien, or some such plot, and
yes, all this shit today around all of us, and that show are indeed A
MAJOR PERFECT MIRRORED IMAGE OF TRUTH. Hollywood seems to know a lot
of powerhouse things, and I have come as a result, to the conclusion
that they are all an organized faction of the BRIGGBASE of the Astral
Realm (Purgatory), and that they are programmed to all meet up
together, so as to create our EARTHLY CHAPTERED ENTERTAINMENT
WORLD. I do not believe it is a coincidence at all that my own
daughter was meant to be a part of al of this either. But all these
things can be discussed in elucidated details that would require
fifty pound textbooks on each of the numerous topics in order to
even scratch the surface of anything, since all of this is so beyond
complex. Wowzee wowzee and more goddamn wowzee's, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!! As
my operatic Aunt Barbara used to sing that late thirties song, i'll
now quote th elyrics to it trhat ui sent to the United States Office
of Copyrights © in 1988 or 1989 somewhere, “Can it be true”?
Jesus Holy Moly hellfire, can this all be true? Well, I say
YESSSSSSS, lovely Erica 1983 snakes Cane from 'All My Children'. I do
not expect anyone else to believe it all, but I hope that some
smarter folks will see that where there is smoke in this world;
normally, there indeed IS FIRE!
END
TRANSMISSION.2:57 Ante' Meridian
Friday,
6 March, 2020
This
week was even worse than the past several weeks. No one will believe
my tale from total hell, not if I beg and shout through the most
powerful mother fucking bullhorn that was ever manufactured.
I
am being completely ignored at the Housing Authority, and in fact, I
have a strong feeling that I am about to be evicted from here, and
when I am, I am going to run to some legal service such as Florida
Legal Services and sue this entire corrupt SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, for
persecuting a pathetic special education kid to his grave who did
absolutely nothing to warrant this behavior. I am not getting my
re-certification paperwork and the lease begins annually on the first
of April which is now only three and a half weeks away, and I usually
get this in January. I left the Housing Authority office early this
afternoon and went to the Saint Lucie County Sheriff's Office, and
was treated like a dog there as well. The epitome of passing the buck
was done to me. My complaints fell on totally deaf ears and I have
nothing good to say about this county anymore, after crooked Larry
Lee two years ago treated me this very same way, and now the Sheriff
and his crumb bag crew, and the Fort Pierce Housing Authority. I am
packing up to leave, but I will go to a cheap hooker and drugs type
of hotel somewhere local that I can afford, and I will sue this
entire mother fuckign county, if I have to be MY OWN GODDAMN FUCKING
PLAINTIFF. There is nothing in the law that says that I have to have
an attorney.
All
cunt lapping day long, my CABLE service with COMCAST was frozen, from
the time I got home from those errands as stated, and has been
ongoing all day and night long. I called Comcast, and this time over
the weekend, they are sending out a SUPERVISOR TECHNICIAN REPAIR
PERSON to see what is going on with my account. We all know that
NOTHING WILL BE FOUND. Most of us all know as well, that the fuckign
shit being done to me by these ASTRAL PLANE GODS/FAWCES, are what is
being major fucking cunt covered up by the Earthly empowered
MILITUFORCE, because they know completely and fully well that the
sanity of the populations on this planet would be lost practically
overnight if what is being DONE TO ME, suddenly WERE TO SHIFT OVER TO
having these same things done TO A LOT OF OTHER INNOCENT FOLKS. This
entire thing is one HUUUUUUUUUUUGE game of the ASTRAL-PLANE-GODS. I
know it, and my Blogaudians out here know it as well, and whether
they choose to believe it or not, is no longer my concern! I've done
my cunt huffing job and now am ready to die and leave this world
behind very shortly. My GARY-7-ASSIGNMENT EARTH service has indeed
been just about COMPLETED, or to quote our great Eck Master (LORD
JESUS CHRIST), “It is finished”. The Gary-7 assignment for all
intense and purposes is now OVER. I don't need to be up on a cross in
excruciating fuckign agony to holler out, “IT IS FINISHED”, as I
know damn well that it is, yo!
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF 3:11 A.M., ON 6 MARCH, 2020:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS,
WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS DEATH
ASSAULT, EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND ALL THROUGHOUT THE MONTH OF
MARCH OF 2020 SO FAR, AND ON THE PRESENT FIFTH DAY OF MARCH 2020,
WITH THIS OFF THE SCALES COMCAST ALL DAY ALL SERVICE FREEZE OUT,
NASTY AIR AND CHEMTRAIL AND ASSAULT CAUSING HEALTH DISTRESS AND ELDER
ABUSE ON ME, THAT IS ALL STOCK MARKET AS WELL AS
ICPE-APE-TECH-DEMOCRATIC RACE AND POLITICALLY INTERRELATED AND
CONNECTED WITH ALL OF THE INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT
ASSAULTS AND ELDER ABUSES COMMITTED AGAINST ME SINCE 1986, and that
is all a part of DONALD
TRUMP'S
ICPE-APE-TECH
death strike
on me since August 15
of 1986;
on a crush-destruct order,
under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Crush and destroy all enemy nabes making horrible loud noise to upset
me as well as anyone being told to make endless fire alarms go off
all day and night. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901,
G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2,
under CG-18, and HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel
sounds. The high-tone is colored RED.
The low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use
your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this
sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD
technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I'
to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the
two empowerization-transmit tones,
or ETT'S.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO
TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P
I
am going to be talking about the all mighty and all powerful truths
and realities, behind my being kept down and oppressed since the day
of my birth, by invisible covert MILITUFAWCES and how when I was
able to defeat their system using mathematical parallel event
technology and applying it to Roulette at the Jersey casinos in 1986,
I was forever wiped out and destroyed by this new age BIG
BUSINESS/SHADOW GOVERNMENT MARRIAGE of 'VERY SCOTT RANSOM POWERFUL
PEOPLE', and how things advanced in several grouped stages throughout
my life since the second of my birth, such as leaving Cooley Hall,
leaving 1802 Robin Hill, communicating directly with Astral-Fawces,
and beating the casinos and potentially even the Huntington Curse
itself if left to accomplish this, only I was not as we all know
quite fucking well. The joke is that the world likes shit to always
be categorized within their mortal world limitations of seeing things
in a perfectly accurate one dimensional chronology, and in truth,
time and its directional 'Whoopee Goldberg' arrow, have no such
limitations. Too bad her fictional STAR TREK-TNG character of Mizz
Gynan is not real. She would be so wonderfully fucking able to assist
me in so many of my horrendous and inconceivable problems and
nightmare woe wiz-me's. I am not able to predict anything. Even I
when living here physically, am totally connected to the same rules
of physics that you all are, almost the same anyway, since my ability
to think myself forward through water and air, as well as propel
objects such as those infamous and illustrious diner rotisseries to
instantaneously spin in opposing directions to what they were doing
before I take control over them, does seem to make me a little
different. Still, I cannot alter the STM system or the shoulda'
coulda' woulda's of life's incredible MAGICAL PHYSICAL PLANE of
caporial and tangible human life. In hindsight, I must confess to
another major life worsening change after a particular incident was
engaged in, and that being, MY BLOGGING! This brings me to a point
here:
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WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,
SIR CHESTER-FRANK. AFTER I SEE THE SHERIFF, I WILL START MY NEW
PROJECT OF “LET'S KICK SOME ASS ON THE WAY TO THE ANTI-M2F BANK OF
DOGTOWN, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!
Best
apps for bloggers
This
one blogger, and there are zillions of others such as this person out
there on the net; are amazingly knowledgeable on this internet new
age world. All I ever knew was what Ed Himacane taught me, and all I
ever wanted to do was to tell the mother fucking world my horrible
woes and very sad story. I had no idea that a blog, if grown just a
little more than mine, could make any kind of money over say a few
dollars monthly, and it seems that I had been seriously mistaken
here. This is a small part of what he said on his info that I clicked
into from first clicking onto the info about growing a blog audience
as well as profiting from it by allowing advertisers to place their
stuff on our blogs. Yes it does take some serious monthly views,
perhaps three or more times than this MORIANITY BLOG gets, but at
that point, according to these bloggers out here, some decent pin
money can indeed be made. However it also seems as do all things
'computer-internet-related', take some very serious knowledge, that
THIS BLOGGER is seriously fucking lacking!
It
really doesn’t seem possible that it has already been two years.
I was in a very different place and mindset two years ago when I
started this blog, oh how much you can grow and learn in such a
short period of time. Believe it or not, through sharing and
self-reflection, this blog has helped me catapult in many areas of
my life. Obviously, the biggest area and the focus of this blog is
the growth that has happened financially (and continues to happen).
The
growth in income and net worth has been absolutely mind-boggling.
For those newer readers, this blog was created in September of
2014, and at the end of 2014 we had a net worth of $181,364 and as
I peck away at the keyboard our net worth has more than doubled to
$425,012 (as
of July 2016).
In that same time period, we have increased our income by almost
50% and are on pace to realize about $315,000 in income for 2016.
What
is really nuts, is the fact that our income is primed to increase
another 50% over the next 12-18 months. This has far exceeded our
wildest dreams!
Speaking
of growth, the blog has now been around for 24 months, shall we
take a look at the numbers?
Writing Statistics
The
real test for any blogger is that of consistency. As a blogger, you
have to consistently produce content at regular intervals if you
want to have any chance of growing your audience outside of a few
close family members and friends. It’s both harder and easier
than it looks. I honestly don’t think it matters whether you
write 3 articles a week or 1 article a month, as long as you do
this consistently. There are blogs that I read that produce only 1
article a month and have millions of page views a month. While
others post 3 times a week with a fraction of that. The important
thing to do is to find what works best for you!
Talk
to Professor ERASO
also about my blog and see if he would be willing to see what he can
do, and pitch him the idea of a consortium for blog-money makers, who
just wish to join a NETWORK
CONSORTIUM
that keeps 25 percent, and pays the blogger 75 percent; for
those who do not want to get their hands dirty, and learn so many
things needed for proper promotion,
as well as saving
them time
to merely write
additional potential money-making blogs.
We could start the first BLOG PUSHING CONSORTIUM and open a business.
From there, we can better promote other apps and other ideas such as
Krystal's Ball and the www.bethere.com/
network.
If
I was not under this MAGICAL HUMTINGTOM CURSE and being tortured and
tormented here in DOGTROWN forever and ever under a human life
illusion; I would be able to make that extra little bit of pin money,
but we all know that HALLS M2F FAWCES that stopped my 1986
pro-gambling ventures, would and will go on endlessly STOPPING ANY
AND EVERT THING THAT I COULD OR WOULD EVER TRY TO DO.
WHAT
A MOTHER FUCKING HORRENDOUS NIGHTMARE I AMTRAPPED IN FOR NEARLY 8,100
YEARS NOW, HUH ME' GLOBAL TRAVELERS, ANDMAYBE, ME' ESS TRAVELERS TOO.
How can I ever know just what or who anything really is, EVER?????
One thing is certain. That Comcast BILL and the COMCAST endless
freeze-ups on a daily basis now since last summer; is no damn fucking
coincidence.
My
area hit weather records yesterday the 6th
of March. It was 91 in fort Pierce for a while and almost
summer-like-humid bringing a feeling like temperature to around 95,
and Palm Beach areas hit 94 or 95 without factoring in the heat
index, as did Vero Beach. Remember how I said that weather gets very
demonic and unusual for any area that I am living in, when things get
this fucked up for me and beyond weird off the scale, in other non
weather-related matters. I am very sick and tired of always being
correct, and would have loved to have been proven wrong by many
people back throughout my goddamn fuckign past, such as Sir Marine
Corpsman Clarence Harris back in 1998 when we drove to Philadelphia.
Yes sir, he wanted to try and fake my death and then come
stealthfully by to see who comes around to pick at my bones, his
quote. Of course faking our deaths is a felony, criminally illegal in
other words, and so he said, “IF ONLY WE COULD”. Then we looked
at each other and chuckled a little bit. WEIN folks????????????
So
it seems I was wrong. I started researching blogs and money making
after posting all those blogs the last time I was up on the net, and
wow, it seems that if I wish to grow, I must find a way to get my
blogs looking the way most bloggers get theirs to look. All I know is
my hellish story. I have no knowledge at all about how to do what
these other fuckign cunt bloggers do to make their shit look
professional and not all stupid ass ugly like my shit ass blogs do,
as well as so many ways that they use to promote that are as Greek to
me as the shorelines of Athens.
GOOD
FUCKING CUNT NIGHT NURSE IRENE, YO!!!
7:38
Post Meridian
Wednesday,
4 March, 2020
Precisely
20 years after that weekend day while residing at the Blue Anchor
rental home owned by Sir Guthrie Short, when my mother finally was
forced to surcome to her mysterious illness that was set upon her by
MILITUFAWCES, on the early morning of 26 December of 1997, while
still residing at the Somerdale Death House on Harvard Avenue. Yes,
this day has been the worst day in the past 20 years, and not one
soul has any small desire to assist me in any way, and quite contrary
to that, many people only want huge and gigantic harm to befall me.
So as stated earlier today, “Welcome to HELL, Mark Wayne Mohr”.
Gee, thanx much!
Nobody
wants a fancy blog from me, nobody cares in the least about my
moon-phases, local wether reporting, or zillions of other nonsensical
items that in the light of my incredibly horrendous existence here on
the Earth-Planet in present persona, does in fact seem quite a bit
Katy-Ridiculous, and it took me some years now, but yes, I see this
now! So forget seeing colors and highlighting, and underlines, and
loads of exclamation marks; and things such as these any longer. We
will stick to the nightmare facts at hand, and that will be all we
will do, or this will be all that I will do might say things a wee
bit more accurately.
This
guy next to me is an obvious OTAMMITE as Dave Roth and I used to
label our MILITUFORCE ENEMIES. He was the one who very vigorously
told me to, “knock at his door if his loud subs were annoying me”,
and when I did, he sang me a completely different song from where
we were a month or so ago, back on that day that I called 911.He was
annoyed and mad at me and told me that, “I didn't call the cops on
you when you make all kinds of noise and have women around and I hear
all of you at three in the morning”. I told him it couldn't have
been me, and that I would not so much as breathe too loudly in my
apartment and had no idea that anything I did could even remotely be
heard in another apartment or anywhere outside beyond my windows or
door. He shut his door in my face somewhat angrily, when all I did
was to please ask him to turn down his SUBS a little bit as my walls
were shaking, and reminded him that he told me to knock on his door
if they were up too loud. Just as I had told the people that day when
things blew up before, the police officers, the Housing Authority
Maintenance Crew, and my neighbor in unit #605, “It is hard to win
because I try and do the right thing and no matter what I ever do,
I'm told it is wrong. I was told by the last Resident Manager Mizz
Debra Moratto to call the police and not the Housing People, and now
they seem to have altered the rules. This reminds me of Jim Burr and
how he so often would say to me, “This is how Satan can and will
always defeat me, as he can change the rules to the game on a
whiskers whim, any damn time he chooses, and I must instantly forever
be ready to adapt and re-adapt, and eventually, I must lose”.
That's a quote, Sir wonderful Adam Schiff, fictional District
Attorney of New York County, NYUSAESMWG on that fantastic television
law show, “L&O”. The dude back on that day told me in so many
words that he didn't believe me, sort of in a round about back way
accusing ME to be the trouble maker. And here HE GOES RIGHT AHEAD AND
PROVES MY POINT AND PROVES ME RIGHT, without ever even realizing it.
He told me not to call the cops but to knock at his door, so I did,
and POW, he was anything but nice about it, even after insisting that
he would be. So Jim Sir, how can I ever ever ever ever ever win??????
I am the ultimate Chiffon Music Group without even being a pretty
woman. Gee whiz for Crissake.
So
far today I have had numerous ILLEGAL CREDIT AND COLLECTION PHONE
CALLS on debts well past ten years old and LEGALLY NOT COLLECTABLE,
major nabe-harassment, major hostility when nothing has been my
fault, major utility persecution that wiped out my telephone memory
system and forcing me again within the past couple weeks or so to
reprogram things and go through numerous menu steps on my Staples
Store Land-Line Telephone, and the list goes on and on and on and on,
beginning the second the enemies woke me up with that horrible loud
squeal and utility strike. This is all not only major elder abuse on
a person over the age of 65 which is definitely a statutory offense
in and of itself if proven, but also is blatant goddamn criminal
behavior, and patterned over 34 years now, makes it a lot more than
simple criminal mischief, despite the great lovely Mizz Legal Beagle
Molly-New! When established pattern crime over time is obvious and
blatant, the usual 'Molly-New' exceptions, simply do not apply; but
again Sir Prosecutor Ron Wirtz Senior, and to quote you in perfect
verbiage here, “Go prove it”!
Tomorrow,
I have to screw up my courage and do what I have now put off for
about six years or so. I must go over to the Saint Lucie County
Sheriff's Office on Midway Road, and ask to make an appointment to
see the SHERIFF, because it is either that, or it is me in here
COMMITTING FUCKING SUICIDE!
WEDNESDAY
EVENING, 4 MARCH OF 2020, 20 YEARS AFTER
THE MILITUFORCE MURDERED MY POOR PITIFUL MOTHER!
WHERE
THE FUCK IS THE WORLD COURT AT THE HAGUE WHEN A PERSECUTED PERSON
NEEDS THEM TO HELP THEM, I WONDER?
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB OH
HENCHMEN, GOONS, AND MOOKS
CHAPTER
29
It
is 5:11 on this beyond horrible mother fucking Wednesday night. My
prick eating nabe who said he wouldn't blast me out, is doing it
again all the time now. He doesn't like cops. Well, I'll give him
cops then. Just as the fawces love to do with me, whatever I do not
like, they bring it to me. I must now choose to fight just as dirty
with them as they do shit to me. Golden Rule in fucking cunt reverse,
is how I see things, yo! Well, it seems to be all about this newest
deal. Someone somewhere absolutely detested, despised, and completely
fucking hated that short area on BLOG CHAPTER 28 where I said, “The
gloves were coming off”. They hacked out the entire place on my
file in my open office system, then I re-posted up onto BLOG CHAPTER
#28-B the new version, and checked the blog on my o pen office files
again. This time it has naut been screwed with in violation of my
civil, human, and United States constitutional rights and freedoms
afforded any citizen under Constitutional Law, Mister Criminal
President TRUMP, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the gloves are coming off once again
since this DAILY DEATH SIEGE WITHOUT
LET UP IS NAUT GOING TO EVER STOP ON THIS 2020 ELECTION YEAR OR SO
IT SEEMS, KIND SHERIFF SIR. I will tell
some things that I never thought that I would really seriously
entertain. Only I know and fully
comprehend and or understand the intricate significance to it all,
but I am going to discuss this fucking shit anyway, and hopefully
one day, humankind may just advance to the place
where this will make some better sense
to people, and global populations in general. So here we
GOOOOOOOOOO, oh great, fantastic United States © Office in the
SWAMPLANDS of DEMONICTRUMPVILLE, AKA
Wash your hands WASHINGTON, DISTRICT OF
COLUMBIA, 13-600, and especially at the great address of 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue! Funny how if we take that 1600 number and break
it into hundreds and tens such as 16-00, and then three times keep
adding a ONE to each side of it, we get the Starship Enterprise #,
then we get the mighty FARM OUTSIDE OF HADDONFIELD NJUSAESMWG #, and
finally we get the year where in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, Robert
McGuire's pappy (SENIOR) of Tennessee Avenue, the great Pittsburgh
Hotel was built in the year of 1903, 1600, 1701, 1802, 1903. As I
typed this major mathematical truth that lays inside of the
endlessly present James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS), the
mother fuckers BEGAN HAMMERING LOUDLY ON MY
WALL OR CEILING, as I never can truly tell which part of
these nightmare TRIAD NABES FROM HELL these noises are emanating
from. This occurred at 24 minutes past one of the clock SHERIFF KEN
MASCARA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is another HORRIBLE FUCKING DAY OF
DEATH PERSECUTION, SO FAR WITH A MAJOR UTILITY DEATH STRIKE AND NOW
A MAJOR TRIAD-NABE ASSAULT, and this is all
MAJOR ILLEGAL FUCKING CRIMINAL ELDER ABUSE (against
a person over the age of sixty-five fucking cunt dirt bag
years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not
only do we have an almost indisputable weird numeric coincidence here
showing in a cosmic code if you will, the powerful cosmic connection
with me and the JANE FONDA NIGHTMARE ONE NUMBER, but also with me and
these four incredible truths, the White House of Washington, the Star
Ship Enterprise and the great beyond marvelous STAR TREK, the great
ROBIN HILL APARTMENT #1802, and finally, the great PITTSBURGH
HOTEL STRUCTURE OF ATLANTIC CITY'S WORLD FAMOUS TENNESSEE AVENUE,
for crying mother fucking out loud, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!! But
let us discuss the final deal for today, or the city where this 1903
year structure was indeed constructed by DADDY-Mick-G! Oh Janis
Furniture Redecorating Joplin of all great Atlantic
Palaces EVERYWHERE; just what in DOGTOWN is truly and
really happening in all of these unfathomable goddessdamn things; oh
lovely Latengrate sweetie pie??????????????????????
This
seems to have REALLY PISSED OFF SOME FUCKING
FAWCE OUT HERE TODAY!!!
DID
SOMEBODY JUST DAMN SAY, “MISTER
OUCHAPINCHANERVE
MUSTASTRUK”???
THE
CUNT LAPPING END!!!!!
CHAPTER
28-B, MAJOR HACKING, FBI!!!!!!!
Feb
26,
2020 5:00 PM – Mar
4,
2020 4:00 PM
|
MAJOR
COMPUTER HACKING, SHERIFF KJM!
1:05
P.M. WEDNESDAY, 4 MARCH, 2020
THE
ABSOLUTE WORST YEAR YET OF MY MOTHER FUCKING GODDAMN LIFE, PEEPS!
UPDATED
TIME: 4:44 PM ON 3/4/2020
MICROSOFT
LIGHTBULB IS BACK ON SCREEN.
I
AM UNDER A NEVER-ENDING MOTHER FUCKING DEATH ATTACK. IT IS EVERY
SINGLE CUNT HUFFING DAY; SHERIFF KENNETH J.
MASCARA SIR, AND MY GODDAMN FUCKING BLOOD IS MOST DEFINITELY
ON YOUR HANDS, JUST TO LET YOU KNOW, LEEEEEEEEEEEEEGALLY,
YO!!!!!
THIS
IS AN OFF THE SCALES MAJOR DAMN:
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
THIS
IS AN OFFICIAL DYING UTTERANCE AND DYING DECLARATION POSTED HERE
LEGALLY ON THE INTERNET, TODAY, MARCH THE FOURTH, TWO THOUSAND AND
TWENTY YEARS INTO THE COMMON ERA.
I
WAS AWAKENED SOMEWHERE AROUND SEVEN OR SO THIS CUNT LAPPING EVIL
DEMONIC MOUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING TO A MAJOR OFF THE SCALES UTILITY
ATTACK, AND AGAIN COMCAST AND MY ACCOUNT WITH THEM, WAS USED AS A
HARASSMENT BY THE MILITUFORCE, TO FUCK UP ANOTHER DAY FOR ME.
SUDDENLY I AWAKEN TO A HORRENDOUS LOUD SOUND INSIDE OF MY APARTMENT
COMING DIRECTLY FROM MY TWO LAND-LINE TELEPHONES, AND AGAIN AS IT
HAPPENED THE LAST TIME SEVERAL MONTHS BACK, THE ENTIRE SYSTEM ON THE
PHONE THAT I USE TO TALK TO LIGHTNING GODDESS
DIANA WITH, WAS COMPLETELY HACKED OUT, AND MEMORY-CLEARED; AND
THE VOLUME ON THE RECEIVER WAS ALTERED. BUT HERE IS THE WILD SHIT.
THE SECOND PHONE ON THE VERY SAME COMCAST LINE,
WAS NOT AT ALL EFFECTED BY THIS
MILITUFORCE PERSECUTION.
SLAMMING
DOORS-DOORS-DOORS-DOORS!!!
Now
the gloves are coming off once again since this DAILY
DEATH SIEGE WITHOUT LET UP IS NAUT GOING TO EVER STOP ON THIS 2020
ELECTION YEAR OR SO IT SEEMS, KIND SHERIFF SIR.
I will tell some things that I never thought that I would really
seriously entertain. Only I know and
fully comprehend and or understand the intricate significance to it
all, but I am going to discuss this fucking shit anyway, and
hopefully one day, humankind may just advance to the place
where this will make some better sense
to people, and global populations in general. So here we
GOOOOOOOOOO, oh great, fantastic United States © Office in the
SWAMPLANDS of DEMONICTRUMPVILLE, AKA
Wash your hands WASHINGTON, DISTRICT OF
COLUMBIA, 13-600, and especially at the great address of 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue! Funny how if we take that 1600 number and break
it into hundreds and tens such as 16-00, and then three times keep
adding a ONE to each side of it, we get the Starship Enterprise #,
then we get the mighty FARM OUTSIDE OF HADDONFIELD NJUSAESMWG #, and
finally we get the year where in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, Robert
McGuire's pappy (SENIOR) of Tennessee Avenue, the great Pittsburgh
Hotel was built in the year of 1903, 1600, 1701, 1802, 1903. As I
typed this major mathematical truth that lays inside of the endlessly
present James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS), the mother
fuckers BEGAN
HAMMERING LOUDLY ON MY WALL OR CEILING, as I never can
truly tell which part of these nightmare TRIAD NABES FROM HELL these
noises are emanating from. This occurred at 24 minutes past one of
the clock SHERIFF KEN
MASCARA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is another HORRIBLE
FUCKING DAY OF DEATH PERSECUTION, SO FAR WITH A MAJOR
UTILITY DEATH STRIKE AND NOW A MAJOR TRIAD-NABE ASSAULT, and
this is all MAJOR ILLEGAL FUCKING CRIMINAL ELDER ABUSE (against a
person over the age of sixty-five fucking cunt dirt bag
years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
following fucking paragraph was somehow HACKED AWAY BY BLACK HAT
HACKERS, VIOLATING MY CIVIL RIGHTS!!!
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=7be7f540-f164-4c84-b2d1-4a3e305c4f92'
rel='stylesheet'/>
THIS
IS AGAIN REPRINTED FROM THE BLOGGER PAGE ON THE CUNT LAPPING
INTERNET, AND MY CIVIL RIGHTS WERE VIOLATED AS THIS WAS REMOVED
FROM MY FILES, MIGHTY FBI!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the gloves are coming off once again
since this DAILY DEATH SIEGE WITHOUT
LET UP IS NAUT GOING TO EVER STOP ON THIS 2020 ELECTION YEAR OR SO
IT SEEMS, KIND SHERIFF SIR. I will
tell some things that I never thought that I would really
seriously entertain. Only I know and
fully comprehend and or understand the intricate significance to
it all, but I am going to discuss this fucking shit anyway, and
hopefully one day, humankind may just advance to the
place where
this will make some better sense to people, and global populations
in general. So here we GOOOOOOOOOO, oh great, fantastic
United States © Office in the SWAMPLANDS of DEMONICTRUMPVILLE,
AKA Wash your hands WASHINGTON, DISTRICT OF
COLUMBIA, 13-600, and especially at the great address of
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue! Funny how if we take that 1600 number
and break it into hundreds and tens such as 16-00, and then three
times keep adding a ONE to each side of it, we get the Starship
Enterprise #, then we get the mighty FARM OUTSIDE OF HADDONFIELD
NJUSAESMWG #, and finally we get the year where in Atlantic City,
NJUSAESMWG, Robert McGuire's pappy (SENIOR) of Tennessee Avenue,
the great Pittsburgh Hotel was built in the year of 1903, 1600,
1701, 1802, 1903. As I typed this major mathematical truth that
lays inside of the endlessly present James Redfield Synchronicity
Syndrome (JRSS), the mother fuckers BEGAN
HAMMERING LOUDLY ON MY WALL OR CEILING, as I never can
truly tell which part of these nightmare TRIAD NABES FROM HELL
these noises are emanating from. This occurred at 24 minutes past
one of the clock SHERIFF KEN MASCARA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is
another HORRIBLE FUCKING DAY OF DEATH PERSECUTION, SO FAR WITH A
MAJOR UTILITY DEATH STRIKE AND NOW A MAJOR TRIAD-NABE ASSAULT, and
this is all MAJOR ILLEGAL FUCKING CRIMINAL ELDER ABUSE (against
a person over the age of sixty-five fucking cunt dirt bag
years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not
only do we have an almost indisputable weird numeric coincidence here
showing in a cosmic code if you will, the powerful cosmic connection
with me and the JANE FONDA NIGHTMARE ONE NUMBER, but also with me and
these four incredible truths, the White House of Washington, the Star
Ship Enterprise and the great beyond marvelous STAR TREK, the great
ROBIN HILL APARTMENT #1802, and finally, the great PITTSBURGH
HOTEL STRUCTURE OF ATLANTIC CITY'S WORLD FAMOUS TENNESSEE AVENUE,
for crying mother fucking out loud, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!! But
let us discuss the final deal for today, or the city where this 1903
year structure was indeed constructed by DADDY-Mick-G! Oh Janis
Furniture Redecorating Joplin of all great Atlantic
Palaces EVERYWHERE; just what in DOGTOWN is truly and
really happening in all of these unfathomable goddessdamn things; oh
lovely Latengrate sweetie pie??????????????????????
Chester
Perkowski wrote me a letter in 1998 responding to a
correspondence to him from me several months earlier, back late in
the year of 1997; and without any time mishaps, futuristic beach
shoebox-tablets, thefts of such devices by thugs on transdimensional
Black Horse Pikes of No Joysey, Crooked Publishers Clearinghouse
Prize Patrol winners with fantastic Sheriff-matching initials, songs,
daughters, or high school reunions or reminiscences here; and in that
wild letter, this fine Pennsylvania gentleman from the great
College-town area naut that distant from the inconceivable Ron Wirtz
Senior Carlisle town; went OUT OF HIS WAY TO INSIST THAT I WAS NOT
CORRECT IN MY ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT TENNESSEE AVENUE HAVING 'WEIRD OR
PARANORMAL QUALITIES' ABOUT IT, and he stated that quite vehemently,
going onto elaborate on many things that basicly said I am way off
base there. Then the HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE Senator
Sanders kicker to this entire crazy wild deal, comes from the very
following sentence after that in his letter. He stated that,
“Working in this hotel owned by his
step-mother Mizz Estelle Anderson
Bassler, really changed his life”.
My now Latengrate pal, Mister David Charles
Roth was amazed and beyond stymied
by this, when I let him read the DAMN letter for himself, and
talked about it until the day that he died, early in March, eighteen
years ago in 2002. Let me tell you one quick obvious fact. Late in
the month of October of the year of 2006, that street altered my life
amazingly and incredibly ALL OVER AGAIN, causing me to switch
automobiles, since McGuire put sand into my gas tank while Ed
Himacane Lynch and I parked on that street and walked up to the
boardwalk so that Ed could buy a newspaper from the Boardwalk Vending
Machines that sold various city and county and even Philadelphia
newspapers. As soon as I drove about a hundred miles or so, the car
ran slower and slower and within a short time it was unable to get up
past forty miles an hour in speed, eventually completely dying just
outside of Atlantic City and just down the street from the ACMUA,
Sarah Callio's world famous WATER COMPANY, mainland branch that is
separate from the 401 Virginia Avenue place in Atlantic City proper.
Ed was with me on that day as well, and we had been at the Genlow
Northshore area of Atlantic City, and right there on Shannon
Kickacar Avenue of hyperspace interactions, all spoken of in
great detail on early Morianity blogs, some of which have been
recently recopied and re-posted. Yes Tennessee Avenue altered my life
forever as a boy and was written of by me as well when I was fourteen
years old, and was called, “THE BOOK OF
BEACH”. Later, the adult version became what we all know
as MORIANITY, the story of full truth,
and the interactions between myself, and the ALMIGHTY
GODDESS OF THIS MEGAVERSE, AKA “PINK GODDESS” Sarah-Stacey
Jehovah Krassle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Of course most of my
BLOGAUDIANS know fully well that the OLD BOYHOOD VERSION OF MORIANITY
was naut only destroyed, (BURNED) as in some witch movie from great
Long Island towns of demonic possession like world renown
Ammityville, but burned and made to disappear in the very same
inconceivable and unfathomable fashion that naut only many other
things were also made to VANISH AND DISAPPEAR AROUND ME, but was done
in a way that is beyond any possible chance of being within ordinary
acceptable human realm only forces that lay behind the ever invisible
curtains of OZ! I speak of all great peeps such as Razzy Russ from
COOLEY-HALL, and his famous one in the morning visit to my apartment,
while my mom was out with her boyfriend Sidney Crown on night early
in January somewhere in the year of 1970, if my best time
recollections are being true for me. HALLS FAWCES even then, had
major vested interests in my never having that original YOUTHFUL
VERSION OF ORIGINAL MORIANITY, that with a little assistance from the
JRSS could break up into three parts for even wilder and 'trickier'
discussions, such as MO-RIAN-ITY,
or Monique, Ryan, DAD, telling it just about as powerhouse wild and
true as any possible PINK-GODDESS-RELATED story ever could hope to do
for crissake crying loudly, Sir Fonty the great SURFER of 5th
dimensional hyperspace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Life becomes so much more
intense indeed, when we know a little bit about how language all got
started, root words, and where sources of these things all came from.
As I type and have been now, and after a completely quiet time until
this blog started, MAJOR DOORS ARE SLAMMING OUT OF THE BLUE, SHERIFF;
and gee fucking ass willagars yo, I wonder why, MISTER BOXER CAMDEN
HALL? I really wonder like-DUHHHHH-Hyundai cars, YYY? Boy am I
'wheetahded', yo yo yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MISTER
MICHAEL MCNULTY OF 1971 YO YO YO BRO!
When
I told Dave Roth outside of the Medport Diner in the spring of 1986,
all about the great SARAH KRASSLE OF ATLANTIC CITY, for the very
first time since we had met as security officers at the mighty #113
Caldor Department Store of Woodbury Heights on Route 45 up there in
No Joysey in November of 1985; JUST WHAT HAPPENED TO BOTH OF US
WITHIN TEN MINUTES TIME OR LESS? Most of you know, but for new
readers if any, we were SET UPON while legally in the parking area of
the diner after we had come out from LEEEEEEEEGALLY EATING DINNER
THERE, by the local PEEDEE with shotguns and dogs. We were taken out
of the car just as you see on cop shows with FELONY STOPS, the car
was searched thoroughly and so were our persons, by dogs and the off
duty officer himself, and later after arriving home at the Highview
apartments of Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG; I had my mother call the
local PEEDEE that did this, and all they would tell my mother was,
and I quote the Shift commander Sergeant who answered my mom's phone
call that evening, “Your son and his friend were in the wrong place
at the wrong time”. Hey, if that is true, then fine, I have no
problem with that at all. BUTTTTTT, big ass BUTT but peeps; tell me
thissssss in all truth here, willya'? DO ANY OF YOU REALLY BELIEVE
THAT? I have lived for precisely 65 and one quarter years on this
very day, on this planet, and only on that one particular time, A
TIME WHERE I WAS TELLING DAVE ROTH ABOUT SARAH KRASSLE FROM TENNESSEE
AVENUE IN ATLANTIC CITY, did anything like this bizarre shit ever go
down. I know for a fact that all of my problems, be it alien &
UFO connected, be it entertainment world connected, be it
governmentally connected, be it “WHATEVER-ANDREWS” connected, I
KNOW FULLY FUCKING DAMN WELL THAT ATLANTIC CITY AND SARAH KRASSLE,
ARE WHAT IS TRULY BEHIND EVERY SINGLE HELLISH SHIT EATINBG NIGHTMARE
THAT I AM STILL SUFFERING THROUGH TO THIS VELY DAY, AND IF ANYONE
ANYWHERE KNOWS DIFFERENTLY AND WILL TELL ME THE TRUTH BEYOND WHAT I
KNOW; just ask me who you want me to murder, or anything else,
ANYTHING ANYTHING ANYTHING, because if you can show me the answer to
my woes and miseries for 65 years and three months now on this very
day of 4 March in 2020, there is nothing that I will not do for you
in return, ABSOLUTELY MOTHER FUCKING
NOTHING!!! I would suck President Trump's dick, and
work like a maniac to get him reelected. I would murder a thousand
people. Just show me what is REALLY BEHIND ALL
OF THIS, AND THEN ASK ME TO DO WHATEVER YOU WISH IN EXCHANGE,
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3046
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
MY BLOGS:
The
world changes, but did anyone ever notice the
powerful truth that makes MORIANITY WHAT IT TRULY IS, and that
being, THINGS
WITH ME DO NAUT; oh lovely Mizz
AT&T BLAKE from the 1983 Annoyance Caller Bureau. Did
you ever really wonder why this is so totally true; oh
great awesome terrific wonderful Federal
Bureau
of Investigation (FBI),
and my EX-Landlord Sir Agent Steve Caruso,
property owner in 2009 of the home at 831 Thirteenth Street, in
Hammonton (Blueberryville), NJUSAESMWG, oh kind sir, who
must know that my story here with MORIANITY is all beyond TOTALLY THE
TRUTH, SO HELP ME GODDESS SSJKK?
Feb
25,
2020 4:00 PM – Mar
3,
2020 3:00 PM
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Steve
McGinty is another wild character, my old boss at the great
1977 print shop who I now think about
daily since I used to work with the cousin of a great football hero
who has retired to Palm Beach, Florida, USA, some years back. The man
I knew from Mars Graphics was John Namath,
cousin to Joe the great football player; Sir
Tom Glenn, music man for the great National
Football League, who I also know and had over at 1802 Robin
Hill one day to help me do the song from that parallel world called,
“Love is for Carpenters” in
very early 1981. See how dots never quit
connecting, that is if ONE KNOWS THE TRUTH ABOUT LOOKING FOR
THEM, AS TOLD TO ALL OF US BY THE GREAT ALMIGHTY
JESUS LONG AGO IN GALILEE. But Steve McGinty was the boss over both
Printer-Bindery man John Namath and myself. He always was so
interested in “my personal problems”, back in the days and times
where many job places were not all that different from early
industrialized American culture where peeps all worked and lived
together in common areas, and the employers knew all of our personal
lives and were quite close to their employees. 1977 was a special
time in America, just after the great Bi-Centennial year of 1976.
Things were very different, and I loved my wonderful President, Sir
James Earl Carter. Steve McGinty always wanted to know why I was the
way I was, scared of women being the very top thing. When I was about
to tell him why and all about the great PINK GODDESS HERSELF, lovely
Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Karge Krassle, he was super anxious to hear all
about it, even up in the year of 1996, while I had moved into the
recently purchased Somerdale home on the corner of Yale and Harvard
Avenues, in Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG. The door slamming by the way is
horrible, SHERIFF SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But back to Steve
McGinty heredahelda and HERE, Sir Mike Soft
(Microsoft)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He was all set to meet with me and I
was all set to tell him everything, as this was those times and days
where I was in that horrendous monstrous search to find this almighty
teenager from my boyhood days. A toddler child dripping with drool
from his chin, can see how the times, and the people, and ALL
OF IT, all fit together in
ways, that to the rest of this world, would seem beyond incongruous
or surreal, CUBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just when we were supposed to get together, he refused to contact me,
and I never was able to reach him again, despite him living right
there in my nearby Somerdale area in 1996. I later learned that the
McGinty family
was all over both the area of EGG
HARBOR CITY and ATLANTIC CITY, and
that there were even ATTORNEY
MCGINTY'S IN ATLANTIC CITY. You all
do the mother fucking mathematics, yo
BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bob
McDowell, my COOLEY HALL PAL from 1972 and the early part of the
following year also, later became the Chairman of the Federal
Communications Commission. We won't touch all of the HALLS FAWCES
obvious wild stuff that things like this are all interconnected
through, at least naut for right now, lovely Mizz Blake. BUTTERCHEESE
and BIG ASS BUTT but peeps, we will tell this much, or I will, to all
of you. We got together a couple of times outside of school in the
summer time in the year of 1972, once going to Knights Park, once
going to his local town of Gibbstown, you know, GIBB, Gibbstown,
Gibbsboro where I used to live at Misses Patty Meeker's rental home,
but for now let us focus on other more germane points to my current
topic of ALL THINGS ATLANTIC CITY RELATED. One time I met Bob's
grandmother in their car that his parents had driven him to my
apartment in Oaklyn in; and she had cancer and had an operation on
her throat and her voice was gone and she used what was termed a
whisper-voice. This is a powerful thing up here in 2020, and I will
tell you about why I say something like this that may appear to sound
beyond absurd on a mere surface-Paul Pedersen level of thinking, yo!
I love to THINK OUT LOUD, mainly because I have no one to ever talk
to. I've learned that if I involve myself with people, the HALLS
FAWCES merely eventually use them to hurt me and wreck my life, such
as THE KING FAMILY UP IN JERSEY FROM 2007-2009. We all know this
story well enough, right FBI-AGENT and X-Landlord Steve Caruso, of
Austin, Texas, USA? Anyway, I need to talk once in a while or I will
literally forget how to properly speak. So in my bathtub, I do lots
of out loud thinking, which tends to annoy anyone who resides on the
other side of that mother fuckign paper-thin shithouse wall. I cannot
say I blame them. I forgot myself yesterday and was talking aloud in
my shithouse (bathroom), and shortly into my little conversation with
me'self, BOOM, the prick next to me blasted his sub-woofers at me,
ALL DAY LONG. Now I admit that this was done the night before as
well, but only between shortly past ten and shortly before eleven at
night, Monday night. It may just be coincidental, and I'm open to all
sorts of possibilities, and always am. I
am naut a close minded person, and am
always willing to listen to LOGICAL RATIONAL answers, solutions, and
possibilities, yo!!!!!!!!!! Still, from now on, since I must talk out
loud to avoid losing my sanity with my lonely pathetic life of this
HUNTINGTON CURSED MOTHERFUCKIGN TOTAL NIGHTMARE, I now will use the
'Grandmother-McDowell' (whisper-voice-technique) to do my
out-loud-thinking. I did this on this very morning before starting
this blog. I get the same relief from using this new plan, and I
don't have to worry about giving any tyrants an excuse for their
applying their tyranny. I know that Dick Wolf used the bugged
telephone I always seem to have or the FBI connections with it to
their ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY, when he came up with that cool
expression on that “L&O-SVU” episode with the judge who asked
SVU Detective Elliot Stabler assist him in finding the remains of his
deceased son who had been killed by some perv-sicko, and this comment
was made, and originally it was a comment made to me on the phone
quite repeatedly from David Charles Roth to me, where he would say to
me, “Don't give our enemies a pretext for their aggression”. It
may sound different, but anyone can see the truth here, and hey, if
I can make little contributions to the BRIGGBASE'S Earthly-Based
Entertainment Industry that makes for some really mother fucking
great television, well then, goddamn it, and so mother fucking be it,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yessir
world, Steve McGinty used to love to call his bad behaving employees
underneath him, 'TURKIES', and he was probably right.
BUTTERCHEESE-BIG
ASS BUTT abnd yessir, but, he
was naut so on the money with what he did with me in the autumn of
that vely vely non-McDowell
magical year of 1996, yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo, as it hurt him since he ALWAYS WANTED TO UNDERSTAND
WHY I ACTED THE WAY THAT I DID, AND YES, WHO'S KIDDING WHO HERE
LOVELY LILLIAN URBY; it hurt me too,
as I needed to tell people just WHAT ATLANTIC
CITY AND THE
HALLS FAWCES WHO SEEM TO ALL STEM FROM THERE,
HAVE ALL DONE TO TOTALLY WRECK,
RUIN, AND ABSOLUTELY DESTROY AND WIPE OUT MY PITIFUL LITTLE MOTHER
FUCKING DISEASED ASS LIFE, BRAHHH!!!
Some cunt lapping prick FAWCE out
there hacked
the shit out of me' mind while I
tried to type out that paragraph that
I just did. Things I wanted in
smalls or in caps, kept reversing; and
it still is not the way that I wanted it,
but I am naut gonna' keep mother fucking screwing with a losing
venture.
What
do you think of this story?
Click here for comments or suggestions.
Click here for comments or suggestions.
That
night, watching those Star Trek shows, while living at 112
Harvard Avenue, Somerdale, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way
Galaxy, in 1996, in the autumn on the 30th
Anniversary of their TELEVISION SHOW PRODUCTION LAUNCH;
memories flooded in that I could not handle, leading to the wild
dreams the following year of the Publishing Clearinghouse's PCN-231
PRIZE-PATROL truck
with that co-ed named K. J. McAllister, who won that January of 1997;
and then the wild song that led to the 2012 production and 2013
Copyright of ''Wanna' Spend My Time'', the fence at Eden's great
garden, and a lot more. This is when I was looking nearby the
television set, little as it may have been mizz Britney Lavino, and
Mister Stanley Crooked Bernstein; and as that great voted-number-1
episode of STAR TREK was airing, suddenly a voice kept saying while I
was staring off of the TV set and onto my venetian blinds, “Sarah
Kessle, Sarah Kessle”. All of these things are on my earlier
parts of this now freaking ass ten year blog project that we all know
as 'MORIANITY', YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Later on, we can get to how the
venetian blinds, the episode on the show
called, ''THE TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES'',
and a bit more, all brought me parsecs ahead of where I would have
been ''spiritually'', if these events were not all LAWTRONICALLY
PROGRAMMED to happen, and so, they did, Mister Pharaoh of all
babbling's, on and on and on; AKA Babylon,
for shorter and abridged sayings, and codings, of all wild strange
rhyming rhythms, in all parallel universes everywhere in the
multiversal hyperspace, AKA the fifth dimension, Mizz Marilyn McCoo,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
am thinking about mother fucking running far away to Alaska very
soon, since I have totally mother fucking had it here, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEE! SARAH and the rest
of HALLS FAWCES really want to blind me from so many powerful and
awesome TRUTHS, and who knows just who or what else is behind the
NIGHTMARES
OF ATLANTIC CITY, NJ-USA?????
The Torture And Slow
Murder Of Mark Wayne Mohr By Trump And His Mob,
CHAPTER 28
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
DEAR
GOOGLE-OWNER OF THE BLOGGER:
Allowing my legally
photo-bucket photo, that I paid good damn money for in 2006, to be
endlessly screwed with on a blogger's account; oh great mighty
GOOGLE; is tantamount to a major
violation of the UNITED STATES
CONSTITUTION and its great
FREEDOM OF speech 1st
AMMENDMENT, as that photo is of MY
LIKENESS, and identifies and
associates me with my blogs, OFFICIALLY, and you are allowing this
UNFAIR BUSINESS AND INTERNET PRACTICE TO KEEP HAPPENING WITH MY
ACCOUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF 3:23 P.M., ON 4 MARCH, 2020:
MIGHTY
DAY-MINUTE OF THE TRINIDAD HOTEL OF TENNESSEE AVENUE, ATLANTIC CITY.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS,
WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS DEATH
ASSAULT, EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND ALL THROUGHOUT THE MONTH OF
MARCH OF 2020 SO FAR, AND ON THIS 4 MARCH OF 2020 WITH THIS OFF THE
SCALES UTILITY EARLY MORNING DEATH STRIKE AND NABES FROM HELL WITH
DOOR SLAMMING AND HAMMERING; WITH A MAJOR MONDAY NIGHT
TRIAD-NABE-NOISE ASSAULT, FOLLOWED BY AN ALL DAY TUESDAY MAJOR NOISE
ASSAULT AND ELDER ABUSE ON ME THAT IS ALL STOCK MARKET AS WELL AS
ICPE-APE-TECH-DEMOCRATIC SUPER-TUESDAY INTERRELATED AND CONNECTED
WITH ALL OF THE INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT ASSAULTS AND
ELDER ABUSES COMMITTED AGAINST ME SINCE 1986, and that is all a part
of DONALD
TRUMP'S
ICPE-APE-TECH
death strike
on me since August 15
of 1986;
on a crush-destruct order,
under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Crush and destroy all enemy nabes making horrible loud noise to upset
me as well as anyone being told to make endless fire alarms go off
all day and night. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901,
G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2,
under CG-18, and
HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel
sounds. The high-tone is colored RED.
The low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use
your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this
sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD
technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I'
to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the
two empowerization-transmit tones,
or ETT'S.
I
couldn't say this one bit mother fucking better me' kind SHERIFF
MACARA, “Oh Mack Kaiter from 1967 summer time and oh Queen Katy
from Abseacon's-DQ from 1997 summer time; “THIS IS TOTALLY MOTHER
FUCKING WEEDEEKAWUSS, 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 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 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!
OH
CHESTER-FRANK, SIR!
I
mean, to quote Queen Katy
and myself, “This is truly WEEDEEKAWUSS”!
So
I now say to this evil rotten wicked world in all parallel realities:
'YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, AND ALSO,
MY
VELY BEST TO THE NATIONAL AIRSPACE SYSTEM
AERIAL REGULATIONS, AND YOUR FAA-TC-UNCLE
FROM POMONA, N.J., AND A BIG-ASS WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'.
SOOOOOOOOOO, AC,
AND
VIVA MORIANITY
Yes
Russ old pal, those Haddon Avenue mean statements can hurt people,
yo!
Between
dish detergents, mean statements on Haddon Avenue, and all things
related one way or the other to 'wonderul' ATLANTIC CITY, NJUSAESMWG;
all that I am left with here to say for right now, would be
thisssssssssssssssssss, lovely Erica Kane Snakes of a 1983 'All My
Children' episode:
Diana
Ross sang it vely beautifully in th eseventies, and I wholeheartedly
concur with the song lyrics, “Goddess bless the child” for crying
out loud surfer Fonty!
THE
“BOM”-----BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
THIS
BLOGGER WILL REMOVE ANY © MATERIAL UPON
REQUEST.
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
WEDNESDAY,
MARCH 4,
2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
GIBBOUS 2:6
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.
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
Lads,
Lassies, Lab-dogs, and Lab-techs:
TITLES
TO BLOGS AFTER END OF MORIANITY
I
just GOOGLED up this info, yo BRAH!
Highest
hourly minimum wage states:
About 183,000,000
results (0.88 seconds)
Search Results
Featured snippet from the web
|
State
|
2019 Minimum
Wage
|
2020 Minimum
Wage
|
|---|---|---|
|
Maryland
|
$10.10
|
$11.00
|
|
Massachusetts
|
$12.00
|
$12.75
|
|
Michigan
|
$9.45
|
$9.65
|
|
Minnesota
|
$9.86**
|
$10.00**
|
•
Dec 6, 2019
Massachusetts
HERE I COME. I am so fucking adddddddahele Governor
Desantis and Sheriff Mascara, yo.
The great GOOGLE also says thissssssss: People also ask
Which
state has the highest minimum wage 2019?
|
State
|
2018 Minimum Wage
|
2019 Minimum Wage
|
|---|---|---|
|
Arizona
|
$10.50
|
$11.00
|
|
Arkansas
|
$8.50
|
$9.25
|
|
California
|
$11.00*
|
$12.00*
|
|
Colorado
|
$10.20
|
$11.10
|
•
Jul 1, 2019
Minimum Wage By State 2018 & 2019 | Paycor
www.paycor.com
› minimum-wage-by-state-and-2018-increases
Search for: Which
state has the highest minimum wage 2019?
Which state in the US has the highest minimum wage?
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
'KRYSTAL'S
BALL'
EXPLORING
THE UNCONSCIOUS, using this APP:
All
the items in cosmos are out of 81
possible realities, with some of them connected
into each other, while others NOT.
Using
this formula allows us to make ultimate decisions!
Krystal's Ball
Guarantee
and disclaimer information:
Anyone
using this and is not satisfied,
can have $5.00 back!
Publisher: Krystal's Ball
Rating:
Price: 0.99 USD
(ninety-nine pennies) Just
how cheap are folks?
The
joke is that this is worth 100,000 bucks, and I would say this to any
damn district attorney in this nation, as I know how powerful this
thing really truly is.
You
will have to prove to me that this does not work for you, I am no
fool!
DOWNLOAD
@ GOOGLE PLAY STORE
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
Hey
so sue me if it ain't August 6, 2014!
I
AIN'T GOT A PENNY, AND I
AM JUDGMENT PROOF,
KATY!
AUGUST
6, 2014,
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 3:20,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 89 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 60%, IT FEELS 102 DEGREES FOLKS!
That
ever fucking annoying pop screen hack where this stupid thing pops up
when all I do is change color on a font with some words, and it's
naut supposed to do this, so it is another fucking BLACK-HAT-HACKERS
HACK, huh lovely 1981 Mizz Gorgeous Lovely Stacey Lattisaw. Yeah,
some coincidence, one of my first cousin's names for one of her girl
twins was STACEY-ALICE? Gimme' a break heredahelda and here, Mizz
Sarah Callio MARTINO of ATLANTIC CITY!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
Today's
little Blogger POST SCRIPT, yo:
If
the Sheriff won't help me at all or tries to insist I am just a
mentally ill asshole, I will quietly obey, agree, and cooperate. Then
I will come home and pack up what I need, and just do what I did on
the mother fucking eleventh day of December in 2009 back in New
Jersey. I WILL RUN AWAY FROM HERE AND NOT EVEN MAKE A PLAN, just as I
did before. I survived it then, and I'll goddamn survive it again now
ten plus years later. When you know you're licked, you must move on.
It really is just that Henningsen simple, am I correct, all great CIA
AGENTS EVERYWHERE, and miserable ungrateful daughters as
well??????????????? You know, don't ask me how or why, but that last
powerful dream where my daughter was inside of some tubular shaped
medical device and the MILITUFORCE was preventing me from getting
over to see her when I was with a friend of mine in some alternate
and parallel world, on or off of Lieutenant Commander Worf's birthday
and won trophies; and without the necessity of space anomalies of any
type of magnetic Merlin fields; this is when I knew, and following
that with that horrendous nightmare where I was being politically
terrorized and intimidated and threatened; I knew that life was about
to alter AGAIN right here while awake in physical fucking body, I
just totally knew it, so please do not ask me anybody, how, maybe I
am just fucking totally major psychic, who can ever know? I do know
one thing from both today as well as the past nearly three point five
decades of life's experience, yo. I know that when shit is ALREADY
REALLY FUCKING BAD FOR ME, and then I do or say certain major things
that the M2F does not wish for me to say aloud, POW-POW-POW-POW-AND
POWZIE!!!!!!!!! I am naut imagining one little teeny bit of
thisssssssssssssssssss, lovely Erica Cane!
So
who still believes that the Corona Virus has one tiny little thing to
do with why WALL STREET is acting so incredibly volatile lately?
Today it shot up way over a thousand points and every single business
day for two weeks now, it has been extremely volatile, changing many
hundreds of points either up or down over and over each and every
day. Today it was up into a four-digit point gain and the Corona
Virus killed some people out in the western part of the United
States, and is worse than a week ago when it was dropping down major
huge every single day. So how can this virus be what is behind a
thing for crying out loud? If I said things that seemed to make as
much sense as that, I would be gassed as the prison world calls it
with shit thrown at me, and that would be the best thing that would
be done to me. You all know I a not lying about anything. I say
things that can backed up in pure logic or reasoning or percentages
or facts that can be checked out at reliable sources, and STILL I am
told to go fuck myself by this world. So why exactly am I not
supposed to believe that I have literally DIED and gone straight to
DOGTOWN (HELL)? Tell me! The DEATH ANGEL has been on me in ways far
beyond anything that has even happened before, even at my worst
points in my life's mother fucking history. Just since I sat down to
do this chapter, I have had four more, and on the day, try
seventy-nine of them now for a total. The other night right before
the loud nabe assault in unit #605, I took about the worst DEATH
ANGET ASSAULT ever, at least one of the five worst. It was beyond
Senator Sanders “HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE”!
Here
comes ANOTHER MORTIMER MORTINO ATTACK ON MY RIGHT SIDE AT 8:21, ON
THIS BEYOND SUPER BOTBAR DAY OF 4 MARCH, 2020.
Yes
folks, I see another huge psychiatrists dream of dream therapy and
psycho-analysis that was touched on outside in the parking lot area
of the Walgreen's Store with my pal who I ran into for a quick minute
the other damn day. The harassing nabes in the apartment at Atlantic
City DREAM, and yes, being lied about and intimidated. I mean come
on, women in my apartment at three in the morning, or for that
matter, at any damn time. Gimme a break here people, pweeeze!
THIS
ENDS THIS POST SCRIPT:
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