THIS
IS THE WORST DAY, WEEK, MONTH, YEAR,
DECADE, CENTURY, AND MILLENNIUM OF MY ENTIRE
LIFE; AND DREAMS
SEEM TO TAKE ME DIRECTLY INTO MATCHING SHIT RIGHT MOTHER FUCKING HERE
IN 'SO-CALLED-REALITY'. MY DAD'S
ELECTRIC RAZER-SHAVER FOREVER, I GUESS. WELL, I JUST HAD
THE POLICE OUT AGAIN, AFTER WAKING UP AT JUST A FEW
MINUTES PAST TWELVE NOON, TO MY HORRIBLE ROTTEN ENEMY #605 NABE
FROM HELL, BALARING HIS NOISE-MUSIC AND SUFWOOFERS AT
WALL-SHALIONG LEVELS; AND DEFYING ME, AND LYING TO EVERYONE,
SAYING I HAVE WOMEN IN HERE ALL NIGHT LONG, AND THAT LOUD NOISES ARE
COMING FROM MY APARTMENT ALL DAY AND NIGHT, WHEN I AM HERE ALL ALONE,
AND QUIETER THAN A MOTHER FUCKING GODDAMN CHURCH-MOUSE! I TOLD
THE TWO OFFICERS THAT THE HOUSING AUTHORITY WON'T TALK TO ME OR EVEN
LET ME MAKE AN APPOINTMENT WITH THEM SO THAT I COULD MAYBE BE ALLOWED
TO MOVE INTO A QUIETER PLACE FOR 65 AND OVER PEEPS LIKE ME.
THIS IS A NIGHTMARE STRIAHGT OUT OF THE GATES OF HELL, AND THIS
MISERABLE ROTTEN FUCKING STOCK MARKET, AND MY MISERABLE LOUSY
STINKING FAMILY, ARE IN A PLOT TO WIPE ME OUT, JUST AS
THEY WERE BACK IN NEW JERSEY AS WELL, 10 YEARS AGO!
It
is confirmed at least to me, that all of my suspicions regarding this
monster-man next door to me, is part of the same family and people of
the peeps who lived there before him. The very same peace logo
left on the door, the same never ending wall hammering, and now today
when the police came, I HEARD THE VERY
SAME LOUD YELPING CHI DOG BARKING IN THERE. When I say
that I know something is real and not imagined, I sure wish peeps
would quit telling me I am just fucking nuts. But in any event, when
I know I know something, ain't nobody ever gonna' cunt eating talk
me out of it, that much I'll tell you right here and right now, yo!
Why those pricks hate me and persecute me for no reason at all, who I
call the 605 CONSTRUCTION COMPANY,
is anyone's guess, but I think deep down and directly, that WE
ALL KNOW JUST EXACTLY WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE WITH ME!!!
My
grandmother on my maternal family side, always said that the
13-number was lucky for her, and never feared that horrible fucking
day of superstition known as FRIDAY THE 13th and even
thought that it was a lucky number for her. Well, goody goody for
her, and I am happier for her than a big fresh pale of fish from the
Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetties. For me, IT IS A DREADED MOTHER
FUCKING TOTAL NIGHTMARE ON STEROIDS however!!!
The
police told me that there isn't much that I can do except to move out
myself and find a cheap place somewhere, or complain the Housing
Office. Since Debbie left the local resident manager job to move
higher up in her career with the Fort Pierce Housing Authority, we
now have a lady named Angel, who thinks of me, at least IMHO as
nothing but a big complainer. I will get nowhere, but I am leaving
another sealed envelope with her name on it, telling what just
happened, at the outside office door, in an attached plastic bin on
the door, for notes such as mine to be left. The police told me the
incidents will keep being documented, and that I am always free to
keep calling, especially if it happens after ten at night, which he
indeed does do this up through past eleven many times. But only at
those hours can I actually file a complaint in court against this
man. These are the goddamn rules that we all live by, and to quote
me' pop again, “ho-hum, hells bells, and we can't fight city hall
and win”.
Don't
ask me why, but I just know certain things, after decades of this
MILITUFORCE BASED PERSECUTION AND ENDLESS
FUCKING HARASSMENT. I knew that that major mouse and computer
hack-attack of the Stacey-Lattisaw Club earlier this morning while
attempting to write Chapter #38 on this book-blog; that I would be in
for, to quote President Obama, “A real doozie-whopper” of a bad
day, and especially when also factoring in the date of FRIDAY THE
13th. As Ziggy said in 1969 quite often, applying to right
now better than ever before, at least IMHO; “That's the way it
goes”, for crying out fucking loud!
MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2020
I
also knew that the MilituFAWCES would need to powerfully strike me
back in exchange for my PHOTOBUCKET photo being back properly on the
blogs. I know how they operate and how their collective EVIL MINDS
FUCKING WORK, unfortunately. Again, I know what I know, and I've
never been one goddamn little bit shy of making that statement. This
is not said as a brag by any means. It is said in tears and horror!
Contact
Us | Request
Copies | Get
a Search Estimate | |
Frequently
Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright
| Library
of Congress Home Page
THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020
MARK
WAYNE
MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
ALSO
KNOWN AS (AKA) THE
'BOM'
1:17
POST
MERIDIAN
FRIDAY
NIGHT
13
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
The continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
If
you can hear me, Magnesonic, MMMMMMMMMMMMM, please wipe out these
ENEMY 605 PEOPLE. Thank you.
This
much I will say. I am now packing up my apartment, and am going to
leave this horrendous place we all call FLORIDA. I will probably not
survive this time as I did the last time I ran for my mother fucking
life. I was ten plus years younger and healthier then, and on top of
that, this goddamn fucking pandemic situation is now making any and
all travel and life in general, quite difficult for all of us, and
when shit is hard for the rest of you, then understand please, for
me it is hard times TEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
No comments:
Post a Comment