6:52
PM, FRIDAY NIGHT
APRIL
24, 2020
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB
CHAPTER
79
Say
good-bye to Hellyweird, to many oldie but goodie songs, and say
good-bye to many things in this land of the 'new-normal' too. But say
most definitely GOOD-BYE to blogs with lots of fancy posts, and
photos, and colors, and all sorts of meaningless dribble junk. I need
to make a record of what is happening to me, and very soon, I am
packing up my entire apartment so I'll be ready to get the mother
fucking cunt lapping shit out of here. So should my computer go down
again, screw it. I'll just unplug it and disassemble it, and that
will be that until I move to a new mother fucking place; so screw my
cunt eating prayer to a power out there somewhere that is doing
nothing other than playing a sick and demented gasme-GAME
with me for a very long time, along the order of at least eighty-one
centuries now when the endless looping cycle bullshit is factored in
to the shituation, yo! And guess fucking cunt what peeps: I
did not type in the word gasme
back there.
It went
there all by itself on some fucking magic lantern type of e-mail
attached worm virus keyboard hack, just like in that great
fucking episode on the “L&O” TV-SHOW
called, “ACCESS NATION” was talking
about! And the only time from now on until life changes in some way,
and I'm out of this nightmare on this cranked fucking cunt up to #10
volume level of epitomized hellishness; that I'll be using a color
or an underline on my blog texts, is when it absolutely in needed in
order to show something, such as the red
colored and underlined fucking dick licking shit from above
with these totally diseased GASME-GAMES of these sicko whacked out
GODS of the PURGATORY! But speaking of that particular episode on the
'L&O' show or other blogs where it is also talked about, such as
the one on the 5th of October in 2008 while I was under my
Stockholm Kidnapping nightmare and living with the KING CLAN OF
WASHCLOTH WASH YOUR HANDS HELL, at Judge Rasso's house of horrors at
65 Middle Road in Blueberryville-Hammonton, in New Jersey, USAESMWG;
I will tie in how Patty and Merry ALL ALONG SO
IT SEEMS, have had my total life destruction all planned out,
and not that I am trying to sound as whack and sick as Mister
Anderton's screwy nephew here, when he thought a little girl was
doing him in, but folks; we all know that
some of us may not be simply who we appear to be, as
in the case 2,000 years ago in Jerusalem, and believe me, if this
happened back then, AND IT GODDAMN FUCKING DID
YO; then it can still happen any time later on in human
history! I bear witness and testimony to that true fact, and naut
just because I am a family descendant through the HUNTINGTON
bloodline, out two generations from me' whittle grandma, Mizz
Grace Isabel Huntington Mason, but because ever since the
mighty and illustrious Sir Russ Thaxton came over to my apartment,
and he burned my Juvenile version MORIANITY
at one in the morning somewhere either around the 1969 X-mas holidays
or early into the following 1970 year, called by me, “The Book Of
Beach”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My original Jersey blogs and especially
in the first one or two years of them, went into full details to much
of this wild experience at my DELLWAY ARMS APARTMENTS in Oaklyn,
NJUSAESMWG for crying out mother fucking louder than any cunt
sniffing loudspeakers could ever be played!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's move
right along now.
My
asshole noisy pigs across from me came in a few minutes ago with a
shopping cart, and are making all sorts of goddamn noise, but nothing
at all compared to the jerk off scumbag piece of filth over in unit
#605 ever since New Years Day. I stopped for a half hour or so to
take a shit, shave, and shower. Now peeps, like Evil Chuckie and
Dawn-Marie King, “I'M BACK”! So again, shall we move this goddamn
mother fucking blog right along here, good peeps, and any rotten ones
out there also, yo yo yo yo yo yo???!!!!!
I
am writing a letter to the Mayor of Fort Pierce, and will hand
deliver it in one or two weeks at the courthouse building where I
served that one day of jury duty back last August 19. I am very
nicely and politely going to tell the mayor the detailed account of
my experiences as a citizen of this town over the past nearly ten and
a half years, and I won't be leaving out one thing, but I'll word it
without getting weird abnd crazy and bringing in Milituforce junk or
crazy demons or aliens or any of that mother fucking jazz. As
sergeant Friday said it so well half a century or more ago now, “Just
the facts, mah'm, just the facts please”. If the entire system is
totally corrupted, then I am wasting my time here, but I do plan to
make it official how this elder abuse is ongoing and that I cannot
get any help at all from the Sheriff's Office, the local Police, the
Housing Authority, or anyone else in authority, and how this is a
violation of my civil, and my constitutional goddamn rights,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!
Before
half past eleven when this BRUTAL MOTHER FUCKING ASSAULT BEGAN
AGAINST ME; THE STOCK MARKET DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGE WAS AROUND
TWO HUNDRED POINTS DOWN. But as a direct
result of this horrendous and monstrous assault on me today, the DJIA
ended UP WELL OVER TWO and A HALF HUNDRED
POINTS, so this persecution gained them
somewhere around 440-490 points. And you tell me that there is
no truth to my claims of ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY?
Well, you can all mother fucking go straight to DOGTOWN, whoever is
laughing the loudest at me, and mocking me the most,
yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Once I begin DAY TRADING, AFTER REACHING AGE 66
YEARS, AND AM ALLOWED TO DO THIS WITHOUT LOSING MY BENEFITS FROM THE
SOCIAL SECURITY ADMINISTRATION; I will be able
to make myself a minimum of 1,000 points profit every week.
Trading the index means that every point of change is a ten damn
dollar change in the trader's account, so
every week, this endless persecution is going to mother
fucking award goddamn me approximately
$10,000.00. YESSIR, that's ten
cunt huffing grand every single week, after December the cunt chewing
fucking 4th
rolls the shit eating muff-diving piss around! I
believe Sir Chester-Frank's great bar quotation from one night back
in the summer time of the year 2000 somewhere, would be very apropos
here, yo. So I will now quote him absolutely verbatim here:
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!
And
now for my wonderful lovely family from HELL, or (DOGTOWN)
as we know it on the ASTRAL-PLANE of existence:!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT BRO!!!!!! And mother fucking cunt eating
screw your broadcasts, Microsoft Corporation, yo!!!
The
scriptures teach how great prophets were shown visions of future
events in their DREAMS, and we all know this. Nothing at all
is new about any of that. So let's examine the towel-seepage-effects
of 5th
dimensional hyperspace as it pertains to my recent 2020 nightmares,
and especially the newest serial one that I
am still experiencing, where it began with my living in
some seashore apartment in an alternate universe parallel Atlantic
City, and was harassed and scared big time in my apartment building
by bad peeps and political thugs from the machinery of Trump's
Henchmen and bullies who have done his dirty wet-work against me now
since the time I was CHOKED IN 1983. I was choked because of
something, and to this day there has been lots of speculations and
theories offered up on these blogs, and I cannot prove a word of
that, and so I won't even attempt to lie about it. Remember as it
continued onward, how I was driving somewhere to see my daughter and
how she was in some weird contraption in a weird laboratory behind a
Walmart Store? My pal had poured some weird copper colored solution
into some tank that fed into this tubular structure that she was
laying in. And outside of the lab where the hallways all started
leading from the Walmart Offices section, was an area where huge
incredible loudspeakers were displayed high up on a wall, I was there
and the lights had recently dimmed out due to a close lightning
strike outside of the store. I know that I blogged all of these
details in 'real time' after it went down. What I left out however,
since I find it prudent not to ever tell all things until I have a
chance to mull them around in my brain for a while and attempt to
further analyze all of the particulars involved in it all. I left
out that my PRIVECODE MACHINE was
also sitting in this section of the store. In this particular Walmart
Store, this section was in the front and to the far right of the
store when facing front. It sort of protruded out a little ways as
well, into what would be the parking lot, only in this store, this
entire section behind it was offices, and then more hallways led off
still further to the right and into those very strange fucking
medical laboratories still further to the right, yo! A child can see
that Steve's psychic vision is very complex,and here is what I have
wondered about and now have pretty much concluded that I am correct
in the assumption that I've made. This pal of
mine in this alternate reality universe, IS STEVE FROM OVER HERE IN
THIS WAKING WORLD! I just about am100%
mother fucking convinced of this.bootloader and of THIS, Sir Mike
Sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What I totally forgot all these
years and remembered only today and while I was showering in my
shithouse an hour ago, was that Steve did not work in the office at
Lavino Shipping Company where my mom and Patty Hollister did, but in
the COMPUTER DEPARTMENT. He was a computer
programmer, and worked with several other young dudes, under the
authority of my mom's other coworker Mister Ron Owens, who
lived right next door to us at Linden Hill Strobelight
Moon-maintenance Apartments back in 1975, and in fact, he wanted my
mom and I to live there. It wasn't fucking Patty Hollister who wanted
it, and I was remembering shit all wrong. It was mother fucking dirt
bag Ron Owens, and whose wife gave me a very hard time ever since I
did move in there, and forced me to move out of there with my father,
who was visiting me there at the time, after my goddamn mom ran off
to Media, Pennsylvania to be with her boss who she fell in love with
at the time, Mister Edwin R. Potter. Actually that love affair began
almost a year earlier from the time that we moved out of Dellway Arms
Apartments, and moved into the goddamn Linden strobelight Hill
shithole fucking nightmare place, yo me'
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Steve was a very interesting person
and most computer peeps are not, from my personal life's experiences
aniwho. But Steve was beyond wild and interesting, and he was in Fort
Pierce once years back when I'd only been here a short time. I ran
into him at the damn grocery store, and he told me that I had barley
changed in appearance. I did not recognize him at all. But he told me
some wild shit then, and I was planning to discuss a lot of it, and
then all hell fell in for me with other goddamn bullshit. What else
is new about that kind of shit for the mountainpen? He did say to me,
“Isn't life amazing. Remember Merry?, she's a big recording star
now”. I just glossed over it then and was busy going through lots
of hell right here in town. But shortly thereafter, I began to have
some other serial dreams of driving dozens of miles down country
roads in New Jersey, and stopping at hundreds of apartment complexes
and going into various places, and all of the people there had huge
giant home theater systems with TV's the size of entire walls, and
gigantic loudspeakers eight feet tall, and filled with dozens of
pieces and had beautiful awesome silver grills all over them. They
resembled the same exact type of speakers in that Walmart Store, from
that more recent wild serial dream that all started with the
political intimidation back at my building with those horrible
neighbors who made my life a living hell. You
see, lovely wonderful peeps out here and one commenter especially,
this is why I am not all that exuberant and ecstatic about my GIFTS
OF THE SPIRIT as you and yes as the great BIBLE does indeed refer to
them as! Would you honestly trade places with me and want any
part of this kind of major endless suffering and misery that never
ever goes away, WOMB TO TOMB?????????????? And then we have STEVE's
'gifts' or whatever where he had that wild vision from eating too
many of Patty's crazy ass fucking witch-brew-food-combos, yo; and
told me all about 1995 plus or minus a year or so, and how my life
was already being planned out to be destroyed by powerful covert and
invisible fawces of the mighty MISTER HALL!
Well
I'll say one fucking cunt thing about the spray-pest dude who came by
to do the quarter-annual spray in this non Patty-Hollister
PH-BUILDING. They stopped watering it down or whatever, because this
time, my mother fuckign roaches are dancing around in circles all
day, and now tonight, they're all laying dead everywhere all over my
miserable rotten mother fucking corrupt PHA apartment, here in
corrupt Saint Lucie County, Florida, USA-WSMWG! WOW!!!
FUCK
THE GODDAMN WORLD, AND THE END!
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,
CHAPTER
78
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
THIS
BLOGGER WILL REMOVE ANY © MATERIAL UPON
REQUEST.
1:07
POST
MERIDIAN
FRIDAY
AFTERNOON
24
APRIL, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
FRIDAY,
APRIL 24, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
CRESCENT 2:7
N.M.
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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.
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I
FELL UNDER A MAJOR DEATH SIEGE AT HALF PAST ELEVEN THIS MOUUUUURNING,
WORLD. THIS TIME FOR ONCE HOWEVER, IT WAS NOT PROCEEDED BY THE USUAL
'NEW-NORMAL DUAL-HARASSMENT' OF THE COMCAST CABLE COMPANY BEING
MESSED WITH AND OR INTERRUPTED. IT WAS JUST ALL OF A SUDDEN, BANG,
MISTER SCUM BAG NABE FROM ABSOLUTE HELL, BEGAN BLARING HIS ROTTEN
SUBS AT ME AT HIGH VOLUME, AND IT WENT ON AND ON. I FINALLY CALLED
911, BUT THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING THAT ANYONE CAN DO TO HELP ME
OUT OF THIS WILD NEW HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE, AND TOTAL ELDER ABUSE. This
was all my fault. I know that I should have cut of this
rotten place a long time ago, and should have done it before the
social distancing and virus pandemic problem took hold. The mighty
illustrious Almighty President said it all after throwing his hat
into the ring in 2015, and as said before, he is not always wrong or
lying. It was that famous time where he and others running for the
office of the presidency were on some stage, and he said that
horrible thing about how he had no respect for losers and
lightweights and he included the 'CAPTURED' war veteran, and he
berated and mocked him, but that wasn't the part I am speaking of
here. He also said, regarding his once FAVE-PLACE second only to his
lovely MANHATTAN; “I got out of Atlantic City. I saw the
handwriting on the wall”. And yes people, I saw the very same
gol'-dog handwriting also, right here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA.
But I chose to ignore it and remain in this horrendous and gods
forsaken public housing building here in hot oven totally
rotten and corrupt RED STATE Florida!
Before
I promised the Almighty that I's top my vulgar language for answering
a huge prayer a few weeks ago give or take, I used some perdy dern
offensive language on these blogs, but even without the bad words, my
nightmare problems and woes never ever change, and they are always
and forever totally pertinent and real to every single brand new
non-Gabby-day! For example:
SOMEBODY
ME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
SOMEBODYME
ME
Those
annoying pricks across from me are really going in and out with the
damn doors again today, SENATOR. Yes who am I mother fucking kidding,
yo? THIS DAY IS ANOTHER FUCKING ROTTEN ASS TOTAL B-O-T-B-A-R,
YO!!!!!!!!!! Now
when the great Sir Clarence Harris and I were discussing “MISERY
UNITS”
back in the late nineteen-nineties, over at or nearby his home in
Sicklerville, NJUSAESMWG one day, that was continued to be discussed
later at the Dairy Queen that other day, and after lovely
KATY
pulled
her aggressive stunt;
this paragraph that hinges on two separate months in time, becomes
very relevant to that very point made by me, while telling Mister
Harris about how he was certainly naut imagining what he told me
about moving, and his nabes, as well as his personal experiences. It
doesn't matter what type of persecution is being used against a
person by these HALLS FAWCES, it only matters that according to these
rotten demonic powers, and invisible wickedness in the air, that is
spoken about quite directly and plainly in the great Christian Faith
and the Holy Bible; a certain amount of misery is actually being
delivered to the victim of it. So why ever attempt to measure the
misery in types of it, when the real truth is that the forces behind
giving it to us here and there, only care about a total amount of
injury inflicted to its victims? And that was what I was telling
Mister Harris on those two days, first near his home in some little
neighborhood basketball court, and then later on in Abseacon, New
Jersey, on the White Horse Pike's famous DAIRY QUEEN. One day it
could be a neighbor, another day it could be some dirt bag in the
grocery store and so on. Also, one day it can be evil nabes slamming
doors and on yet another day many years later, it is all about loud
horrible blasted music. But the only thing that matters here is that
A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF MISERY GETS PROPERLY DELIEVERED. I know for a
fact that my words are all true. When I told Clarence Harris about
this after he told me how moving from one place to another in his
personal experiences,did indeed end the problem that he was having,
but that it ALWAYS WAS JUST REPLACED by a brand new one after the
move with somebody else, and that he was amazed at how he was always
made exactly as miserable as he was before, no less, and no more. So
when I enlightened him to the HALLS FAWCES and their MISERY-UNIT
SYSTEM; he was shocked, astonished, and totally freaking mind
blown!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
there is no shock to what just mother effen happened to me right now,
and this came in a two part major harassment. ROACHES are always real
bad after the darn stinking pest peeps come in here to do their
quarter annual spraying, as they did this morning, and roaches are
crawling all over the place ever since he left. But just as I was
thinking about doing a clock blocking ANTIJANE on this blog, a roach
began to crawl all over me' pajama leg and it was hard to get him and
kill him, and after I did manage to squish the little turd back to
his astrallity; or ended its dream when I obliterated its physical
shell-body (E=MC Squared); but in all the stinking rotten darn
muss-fuss, I then forgot to do the margin-enter trick, and thus block
the system from showing me PAGE
ELEVEN OF ELEVEN,
and so again, I was struck hard with another JANE Sleazeweedsdisease
Scumslime assault on me, so here is now me' compensation, yo!
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Oh
how I totally hate your miserable guts, JANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But
still, Lenny Briscoe sir, I now reiterate what I said back on
February the 20th
of this year: Many rotten evil pricks love to hurt people and even
laugh about it, and they are members of all American political
parties, so don't ever let rumors spread that Mister 'asshole
Mountainpen', who drove into Fairview one night from his residence in
Cinnaminson, favors either party when it comes to such things. Peeps
are peeps, and we all are dirty rotten sinners who make filthy rags
look clean in any real or true comparison. Still, in or out of
airplanes, great robbing musical groups, or anything at all
whatsoever; maybe that turn I made across the road near the famous
restaurant in Fairview was somehow wrong, causing that young nasty
dude to scream that out at me on that hot summer evening in middle
1984. In either case, 'HELP
ME'
through
this willya, Gibb Brothers?
My
'Livelong' Board-Game
was naut invented to predict anything, merely there for purposes of
fun, entertainment, and amusement. What a fucking ASSHOLE
I must be. Well, that dude agreed with me on this that night near
that DAMN restaurant aniwho, right yo?????? In any event, being mean,
calling mean names to people, and laughing at peeps misfortunes is
all a part of us lovely evil sinning human beings, right LORD JESUS,
sir? Well, as stated, I no longer use bad words, but I cannot go back
through time in my own dimension of matter and stop myself from what
photon-memory shows and displays as truth.
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
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 ON THIS 24 APRIL OF 2020 WITH A
MAJOR NOISE AND ENEMY NABE FROM UNIT 605 DEATH-PERSECUTION ON ME, 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.
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.
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