THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB

CHAPTER 80

7:21 A.M., MONDAY MORNING

27 APRIL, 2020

Be sure to read the last part of the blog at the end!!!

There probably is some way of dealing with this fucking shit with Mike Soft and this endlessly fucking annoying shit where I need to hit the enter key to change paragraphs, and then those stupid add on things keep coming and wasting my time getting that extra shit erased. I just don't know how to do it, but I'll be willing to bet there is a simply way. When you have no fucking family support, no friends that know shit about computers either, and only an endless bucket full of fucking major dangerous deadly enemies to keep you forever busy and occupied surviving through their bullshit antics; then you can forget about any kind of life, as all there is people is endless mother fucking HELLISHNESS!!!!!

Originally my blog from this morning was different in so far as I was going to post it later on and it is now later on, but for complicated and lengthy reasons, I am now going to just tell you a few major mother fucking things, folks and Mike Soft's fucking goddamn jerk off folksingers too. My mother fucking ILLEGAL ENEMY GUESTS ACROSS THE HALL FROM ME FOR TWO STRAIGHT DAYS HAVE SLAMMED THEIR CUNT CHEWING DOOR REAL LOUD ALL DAY LONG AND WELL INTO THE NIGHT ILLEGALLY. If it is not one mother fuckign rotten neighbor around here, then it is merely the other, or to put it in terms that Sir Clarence Harris would understood real well back in kitchen patrolled Dairy queens of 1997, “those endless fucking MISERY UNITS”. It is now 5:22 in the evening on Monday SUPER BOTBAR April 27, 2020. The stock market flew up again today and has been on a demonic bullish rally roll for weeks and weeks now with absolutely no rhyme nor reason for this behavior by any Earthly terms and you all know this. The unemployment rate is about 16% and that's nearly the amount during America's great depression. Nobody hardly is able to collect any unemployment despite all the horse shit fucking lies in all capitol buildings, state and federal. The entire nation is one HUGE SHAM and only Sir Bernie Sanders truly knew all of these things, and now it is all forever too fuckign late. Many medical experts are saying the average time it takes to develop a vaccine against something like this Corona Virus is fifteen years. Then we have Trump who literally disassembled the worlds health organizations ad systems so if anything, it all will be running slower and not faster, and our new normal may be around for ten to twenty years. All day long I am back to getting lots of fucking scam callers and harassing callers again too. Now on my original blog I wrote the following words this morning about ten hours ago or so: From now on, my blogs are going to be preemptive. I already know my persecutions will go on forever or at least until I am able t escape and run literally away from TRUMP and out of his control. But my point is that I will do the blogs and say what I need to say but rather than post them right there and then, I will wait for harassment's to come upon me, and THEN POST UP MOST RECENT DOCUMENT-BLOGS at that time. So when reading the date and time at the start of the blogs, the actual post times will be reflected at the end, along with a quick tell of what is being done to and against me. FORGET ABOUT THAT new-normal, as I am going to go right back to the old method of writing and posting, and you need not concern yourselves as to the full details to this day and why I've changed my method of operations. So last night, the mother fucking NIGHTMARES were quite horrible, so I AM EXPECTING THE ROOF TO CAVE IN after a somewhat better weekend. So I will say some major shit on this blog now, and then post up after the assaults come, NOT IF THEY COME, but rather WHEN THEY COME. After dealing with something from August 15, 1986 up through April 27, 2020, I think this allows me to claim somewhat of an expert status on this personal and unfathomable harassment that I have fallen under from this SELF-NAMED 'MILITFORCE', yo!

Now I have learned two major things this past weekend, and they need to be addressed here. First, there is no need to write to the mayor of Fort Pierce. It will do me absolutely no good at all. It was verified to me by a resident here who I know and trust and who used to live right across from a job that I had back in Jersey in the early eighties; that corruption in the municipal housing authority as well as basicly all over town is not all that different than most places the nation over. It is much and many, and there is no way for some little persecuted person without any power or family support or friends anywhere, to do, to quote Mike Walters from 1980 at RPL, speaking of apartment complexes across the street from there; ANYTHING AT ALL, or as Mister Walters put it back then, “DIDDLY”! I know I absolutely must leave this PHA system. I know that indeed, and just as those very same fawces did to me in 1982 that you all know about, towards my final third of my life at 1802 Robin Hill apartments, and forcing me out of there and into that ATCO HOME, where I began my communications EARTHLY ANYWAY, with LIGHTNING. Back then and as I told on earlier blogs, the MAINTENANCE CREW at Robin Hill knew the PLAYBOY BUNNY BITCH and helped her to move in. In fact one of them was either her boyfriend or one of her numerous boyfriends, as this was a total slut and that is putting things quite politely folks, I assure you. Now here in present times nearly 4-DECADES LATER, I witnessed the PHA maintenance crew ALSO HELPING THIS PIG NEXT TO ME, MOVE IN HERE. I have spoken with several peeps who know lots of the endless gossip around here, and they told me that the PHA here IS INDEED TRYING TO GET RID OF ME, AND HAS BEEN FOR FOUR YEARS NOW, SINCE THE TRUMP FAMILY ORDERED IT. So you see lads and gents out here, and all great Cable Network News reporters everywhere, my claims are all completely real and not one mother fucking goddamn tiny bit imagined. They all know this guy, and they know he loves his loud blaring Spanish Music and has subwoofers and one person already heard him say that he is going to make my life as miserable as he can. I cannot prove any of this, and of course, I cannot drag people into court, nor would it do any good at all. For me, this is when I fully know I have but one mother fuckign cunt eating recourse left, and that is, and all middle nineteen-nineties gym-songs not withstanding here, “To run away if I wanna' survive”!!!!!!!!!!!! So yes people, “HERE WE GO AGAIN”, and without any new kids in town, or for that mother fucking matter any old kids in town, or any kids anywhere for that matter, even clueless Kim Wilde kids here or outside of AMERICA along with Halloween's famous sir Icabod Crane and the Weirdchords Musical Society, (WMS) for crying out louder than loudspeakers! Many locals know this prick next to me, and they say 'he has a very bad attitude', and that he indeed 'is pals with the maintenance crew'. So now it all comes together, even though I never ever am able to prove anything, and remember that fantastic fucking movie again from those same old archived days and times, “Conspiracy Theory”? The great Mister Mel Gibson said it all to lovely fucking Mizz Julia Roberts. “If it wasn't a fantastic perfect conspiracy, it would be easy for me to prove it all to you”! Well, that may be a tiny paraphrase, so get the movie people, and see the precise line he said, for yourselves, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo BROADCASTED BRO!!!! And fucking screw you, Mister Microsoft Corporation. Boy oh cunt lapping boy!!!!!!!!! So you see oh great CNN REPORTERS who all think of Mountainpen as just a CRACKPOT despite him saying how all these things that they're now talking about every single day and night, and have been for years and years now; would happen, and knew all about this wild character who we all must now call “OUR PRESIDENT”, oh mommy dearest who believed quite vehemently in that concept of political 'ettikit', to which Microsoft Corp is completely ignorant and helpless to provide me a correct spelling for the word, unless I've mother fucking awoken today into a world that does not contain a word that I've heard all of me' life, that relates to polite society, and doing things according to it; but in moving this along here; to all these wonderful reporters such as Mister Lemon for example, who just last night was beyond shaking his head in total bewilderment to all of this; I have a lot to say to all of them now. First, you all know that I told on these blogs, every single thing that now IS INDEED GOING ON AROUND YOU in this new-normal-surreal craziness that SURROUNDS US ALL. You also know how I told the true story of bing with the great KING CLAN IN THE SUMMER OF 2009 IN ATLANTIC CITY, NJUSAESMWG; and how on one particular day when my daughter was performing at the Harrah's Casino and we were all at Trump's great 1984 built PLAZA HOTEL on the eastern part of town known as the 'strip' just in the casino area of Vegas also has their famous strip; and how he came zooming over from Manhattan that day when his pal Ann King whom he'd comped our room for; as soon as casino security caught lovely Leticia Tilley at the roulette table with me while I was keeping track of the numbers and Ann and Dawn were over at the slot machines nearby the escalator that led down to the hotel doors that went out onto the boardwalk and beach. I told you how he was scared to death that I was planning to tend the world by having cousin Leticia and my daughter touch, or to quote wonderful Star Trek's Mister two-faced Lazarus and his parallel alternate twin; end all of creation by having more than 250 pounds of matter and antimatter of equal particle containment, come into direct contact with each other. Now all of you out here laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed at me and my story. Are you still laughing at me now folks, after this man took power at the White House, and has TOLD PEOPLE TO DRINK BLEACH AND OTHER HOUSEHOLD CLEANING FLUIDS TO CURE THE CORONAVIRUS? That dude was so upset, he literally pissed himself in his helicopter while orbiting the roof of his great hotel there, oh Copyright 1984 Office non Mister McLeod of Highland Avenue in Cinnaminson, New Jersey. He was too scared to even land on the roof of his own hotel that summer day, and I heard him going round and round and round right over the roof while I had gone back into the room that he had comped Mizz Ann King with shortly before this day. Ann was a huge slot machine player and many gamblers are indeed, to use the gaming expression, comped with rooms, meals, and all sorts of things, even shows and musical concerts, provided that they spend enough money in the hotel-casino. That's just typical casino bizz as usual junk, nothing at all weird or nefarious about it one little bit. Two mahjor fucking cunt things just happened to me now at 8:36 this MOUUUUURNING, yo. First, a SUPER NBASTY MAJOR FUCKING CUNT RIGHT SIDE DEATH ANGEL ASSAULT ON ME, AND THIS WAS FOLLOWED BY MIZZ JANE SLEAZEWEEDSDISEASE WITCHBITCH ROTTENPUSS and her ENDLESS-ONES FROM HELL. I now need to use my compensation of a large printed out groupation of fives, using an ASTRAL-PLANE term, yo me' BRAHHH!!!!!!

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You all doubted that a powerful billionaire person would believe something like that, but now you can all see for yourself since we now HAVE A GREAT AND POWERFUL (GAP) PRESIDENT HERE WHO BELIEVES IN DRINKING HOUSEHOLD PRODUCTS FOR CURING OUR GLOBAL FUCKING CUNT PANDEMIC, huh great sir, Don Lemon, of the wonderful and 'vely vely vely' NON-BOB MCDOWELL of Cooley Wormhole Halloween's HALL; CNN??????????????????????? You can all go right on believing whatever you want to, but you have to know that there is a lot of incredible truths to MORIANITY, that is if you're all half as smart as you think!!!!!!! There he was that day, after his henchmen, who knew all about all of my stuff because they are always bugging and listening and have been since the middle eighties when this nightmare all started; told him that this was going down in real time at his hotel. He knew that I was beside myself too. Even he, who “Puts me through some things”, oh great Ukraine People out there from the days of the IMPEACHMENT, as well as when this beyond nightmare hellishness took hold last summer for me; but even he knew how badly I was being mistreated and abused at the home of Dawn-Marie King or really the rental home of FBI-AGENT Mister Steve Caruso of Austin Texas, USA, located at 831 13^th Street in Hammonton-Blueberryville, New Jersey. Yessir peeps, even he knew that peeps can only take so much before they literally go off and completely and totally lose it, and what better opportunity was there, in the mind of Mister future President Bleachdrinker, than for ol' Mister Mountainpen to drive lovely third-cuzz Leticia over to the Harrah's Casino and to where her Cuzz Mariah Carey was performing that day, and yes, shortly after that wild psychic-vision that she had recently given to me, taking place at the great Almighty RENT-A-CENTER-STORE of Pleasantville, NJUSAESMWG, where believe this or not peeps out here, was right next door in a local mini-mall, to my security outfit, where I was employed, at this Pleasantville K-MART Shopping Center, yo BRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Folks, the odds to all of these things merely randomly occurring without some incredible design at work behind all of lovely Cooley-Hall Amy's show closing CURTAINS OF 1983, and great musical projects of the MOUNTAINPEN at that very same exact time as well; would be a number that I would need to use exponent numbers with, because this page could not contain the necessary amount of total digits.

[ 13 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Saga of song writer Mark Mud.

PAu000501582

1983

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Now I told how COMCAST is all involved transdimensionally in all of this, after experiencing that beyond inconceivable dreaming-interaction five or six years ago somewhere, with three witch type ladies and that wild musical warehouse, and that unfathomable Comcast Office up on a hill that only one small pathway road seemed to lead to and that was all curvy and windy, sort of like ROUTE 9 that runs along not only the great commercial and advertising world of phase-4 imaginations of the true ASTRAL-PLANE intelligence brought down literally from the 6^th dimension of MIND, but also the same road of the STARBURN-STARBURST 1997 'DARK SHADOWS' days and times while I dwelt in that horrible nightmare mother fucking SOMERDALE DEATH HOUSE OF FEAR, where Paula King and her Atlantic city witch-gal pals destroyed my mother in some wild dream, sort of like the world famous for any and all Dark Shadows SHOW fans the world over, “Angelique's great DREAM-CURSE” of 1968!!!!!!!!!!!!! And you tell me I'm fucking crazy, do you peeps? Well, 'KMA' Mister William Leonard McKinnon, who is PHASE-4 directly connected to a cool thug named Sir Andre Blair, huh great Mister DICK WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLF??????? Now that wild bill that I needed to pay to the COMCAST people, in that MIND BLOWING DREAM, that had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Haddon Avenue, or mean daughter comments from school chum book burners; had three incredible Astral-Ladies in it, if you all remember, and if you do not, you can always go and archive all of the old blogs that told about this in real time when the 'eternal now' was matching this incredible shituation, that is. At the time, yo, I was as clueless as the Kim Wilde Weirdchords of any and all musical warehouses filled with loudspeakers-dreams and huge sound amplifier machines; to just what these three magical ladies were all about and how it pertains to my nightmare hellish life that seemingly cannot ever be quashed out of existence, with or without lights that never go on, or bleeding out in doghouses or 'OTHER' non casino King-beds. What this was all about, just as with great Biblical Prophets such as Daniel, and all of the interconnected TSE (Towel-Seepage-Effects) of transdimensional hyperspace; are those three ladies that obviously somewhere in the 5^th dimension, one great and powerful woman named JULIA WHITE, is controlling them from HER DREAMS in HER REALM over there, as a totally mastered TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. And I say this with or without any of me' third or fourth cousins up in New York on the great Woodie Guthrie Song-Islands, or even the lovely little Evelyn from right next door to me' mom's first-cuzz Mizz Ruth Gottwald, the first wife of the great banker and Senior VP of the Chemical National Bank of the early nineteen-seventies, in Manhattan,with or without any vomiting or illnesses on the great LIRR train from Babylon-Nebuchadnezzarville to Manhattan. Yes, all Santa Clauses, and 34 connected items too; that sure must have been a “long train ride every day”, huh Mister MACY????????? Here goes those endless mother fucking coinkeedinks again!

Anyone anywhere at any time with one tenth of a working fucking mind, knows fully well, that this MORIANITY is 100% TRUTH, as simply put, it just could NAUT be made up. It is like the other great story ever told on the opposite end of velocitronic polarity, and that being for those who may not know it, “Christianity”. Morianity on the other end of this horrific dogshit is also every bit as completely impossible to make up. No one could invent this story, and anyone out here that thinks that I have done this surreal and incredible feat, is really paying me some sort of an unfathomable ultimate complement in all of this, much as I'd rather just be believed. But if anybody ever chooses to stop disbelieving it all, simply because it appears to them, and their own personal life's experiences, that it SIMPLY COULD NOT BE TRUE; that is when they would put at least many of these dots all together for themselves, and realize the built in thousands of proofs cannot be discredited or thrown out with last week's stinky fucking garbage. Some things cannot be proven ever, such as the existence of an Almighty GOD. We all know this. Yet Morianity can indeed be proven if peeps would ever someday just take the time to devote really serious attention to put it to the real test and see if they can prove or disprove it all. I tell you right now, YOU CANNAUT, MIZZ AT&T BLAKE FROM 1983, and I tell everyone else as well, yo yo yo yo yo yo BRO!!!!!!!!!

Well I can add and harp on a lot more to al of these things told so far at later times. I merely for right now needed to lay this foundation down, and so , I have done it. I believe that Sir Chester-Frank would say it like this, and say it really well here too, yo:

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!

All this time, I was able to put together the wild Rent-A-Center dream somewhere in either September or October of good old 2008 while living under my Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapping on Middle Road in Berryville, NJUSAESMWG; that just as with the Prophet Daniel, SSJKK explained to him as well as to me, just how 'TSE' of the 5^th dimensional hyperspace truly operates, and with or without any 1965 electrical shaver kits owned by wild traveling treasure hunting fathers visiting Jersey kids from great old hot ass fucking FLORIDA; things also tend to have a GASME-GAMES of the GODS effect in both my own personal life within this nearly 8100 hundred year looping cycle of TOTAL DOGTOWN (HELL); how indeed there seems to be, if that is we are able to somehow see through it all and remove our major fucking blinders; a very incredible humerus part to all of the games, right down to the entire Biblical timeline game of HUMANITY. Again peeps, the great MASON CLUB and LODGE, via David Roth me' old eighties pal from the 113 Caldor Store, revealed to me that I, Mark Wayne Mohr, grandson of Mizz Grace Isabel Huntington the fifth granddaughter of Founding Father Sir Samuel Huntington; who was 13^th great grandson of Queen of Scotland Marty Stuart, am indeed a direct descendant of the great family of Jesus Christ directly from and into the spread out DNA fabric of the Judah Tribe. So there is no longer any wild query in my own mind, as to why the Almighty PINK GODDESS SSJKK has done what SHE has done in my life, because it somehow quite obviously is all totally connected with and throughout, this family's lineage, and timeline's GASME-GODDESS-GAMES that's behind this entire deal. Now last night's horrible fucking nightmares were again, my doppelganger twin in 5^th dimensional hyperspace, and living back there in Jersey and at Jenny Plageman's nightmare trailer park, and were all somehow revolving around huge horrible things happening. So what else is ever mother fucking new around here for poor rotten old little pitiful me, Mizz Linda 1978 Ronstadt???????? But in this nightmare, along with zillions of other unpleasant shitty things of which some of them I clearly remember back here now in 'waking life', and other shit I don't, praise be to the fuckign cunt gods of astrallity, yo; one thing stands out major as shit on a shingle that is stinking right through into the home. A man who I did not know from here until the other day, when me' pal Kev was with him, and we were all talking about the hellishness of this building; I seem to know very well there, and I need to explain this for those dream research peeps out here who may be interested in this without being interested in anything else surrounding it. All along, I have known this person or my twin over in that parallel world of that particular dream knows him, but until I met this other dude this past weekend who was with Kev for the very first time, I did not realize that this is the dude from me' dreams over there in that alternate reality. Over there, he told me a lot of wild shit last night while driving in my car down the White Horse Pike. One was that Julia White is real in that world there, and that she is nowhere near finished with me there, or HERE back where my body is laying asleep in a bed. He made me see the truth also, of how SHE was the GIRL that was involved in all of that shit with COMCAST, and the three witches that she controls in my waking life, Melanie, Patty, and Paula. They only remember it when the switch is on however, or when she is dreaming and controlling through them, and when Julia White awakens in her realm, those three ladies here go back to being their ordinary selves and with absolutely no memory at all to anything that pertains to when she is dominant over them as a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. It really wasn't Paula King's great magic or powerful abilities that night that I was working at my security guard job at the Cifaloglio Transfer Station that night when suddenly I just turned my car radio on and tuned into Atlantic City's WAYV-FM-Radio Station, where Paula King came on with that stupid “Don't threaten me Regis Philbin” dogshit, right after she played one of Mariah Carey's hit songs. She does not have that kind of power, but there are a couple of wizards, Copperfield and or Blaine, who somewhere out there have learned this secret technique, and used that very same mind control TELLOSIAN thing on me another time, and on everyone else out in the viewing audience one night while I lived at Jenny Plageman's place and was watching some silly shit on the Comcast Cable TV, and I forget which of those two magicians it was, but he said to us all, “Think of any card in the deck, and I will tell you what you are thinking”, and he then somehow got us all to think of a card and I forget now which card but my blogs do contain this somewhere from New Jersey blogs, let us call it the 8 OF SPADES just for sake of this true story right now. Sure enough, he then said, “The 8 OF SPADES”. I thought that I'd mother fuckign shit myself as soon as this happened, yo people!!!!! Paula King had seemingly used that same power on me that night when I was working at the Cifaloglio job, as for no reason out of the blue, I suddenly turned on me' car radio and then tuned into her WAYV-FM RADIO STATION. MC's song had just started maybe thirty seconds earlier. When it finished and they went through that silly Christmas Holiday jingle, Paula and the crew there suddenly pulled that stunt where they totally were dissing poor old little Mister Regis Philbin, who was just trying to be nice and wishing Paula the best and telling her to be careful and stay safe, and she went all nuclear about it. The very same shit in those same days, and I only learned of this later on while in Florida and after watching the show myself as I never watched it back in Jersey, but on that “Ghost Whisperer” TV-SHOW, that same exact line was used regarding being careful, concerning my distant cuss who was on that show as the professor, on my dad's side of the family, that third rate asshole actor. I know for a fact that my daughter's people and lovely PARTY-5-SARAH song-teaser and later SVU teaser I suppose, is all connected up together in all of this what else but GASME-GODS-GAMES dogshit!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, all those peeps bugging me' telephone, the powerful people of the Scott Ransom Club (AKA TRUMP'S HENCHMEN or MOB) by me and my Morianity; they all knew everything I used to tell lovely LIGHTNING or the Goddess Diana over me' telephone, and what SHE would say back to me through the wind many times, all throughout the first decade of this 21^st century, and that being, “To behave myself” so come on lovely Melinda Party-5-girl, so cut me a whittle bwake here; you and lovely 1985 Mizz Margie Leo; and Sir Almighty and yes, extremely goddamn talented, Dick WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLF, yo yo yo!!! Hey yo, speaking of lovely awesome LIGHTNING here, SHE was awesome and wonderful to me yesterday morning, Sunday; and so let me tell you all just what SHE did.

I went to the Walgreen's Pharmacy to pick up a refill on me' Metformin Tablets to lower me' blood sugar that I take twice daily. I purchased some six pack sodas also, and I know I shouldn't drink sugary shit like sodas, so sue me! Most of the time I drink water, vegetable juices, or the sugarless Fresca soda, but I confess that nothing in the world is as great tasting as MOUNTAIN DEW, and they can use this blog and this testimonial as a spokesperson's testimony on their marvelous product any goddamn fuckign time that they so choose to do, yo. So I walk out to get into me' car with a shopping cart, and some beautiful colored Lightning struck nearby, and then came that thunderous sound echoing all around me. SHE followed me home and inside of the building, and then SHE remained with me for about an hour, making gorgeous colors and fractal patterns all over the skies around me. Diana, I know you are the electron here in this world that my isness of being surrounds a physical housing shell (body), and I know that you are able to read these words electronically as a result, and I want you to know and the world can bear witness to it; that my love for you goes so far beyond any words, you great big awesome lovely coil you, that I can only show you how badly I love you, or maybe Mister McCartney can explain it to you in some new lyric someday, you lovely wonderful GODDESS!!!!! My best, kind sir, posthumously of course, to wonderful Count Von Marcucci!!!!!!! So again with yet another 'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE' and one for lovely Mizz Perry here too, and this is so damn 'WEEDEEKAWUSS', Mack Kaiter of 1967 and 1967 July's summer camp in Northeast, Maryland, USA, ESMWG!!!!!!!

This is another mother fucking super BOTBAR DAY, peeps. This is all so the stock market will endlessly stay bullish, and anyone who by now that reads my blog and doesn't believe my true tale of woe from the gates of DOGTOWN, is nothing but a fool who is just wasting their own mother fucking time. Why bother to read this if you think I'm just a mother fucking nut, yo??? That mother fucking DOW JONES in nothing but a WEALTHY WORLD OWNER ABSOLUTELY AND TOTALLY CORRUPT SYSTEM OF COMMERCE DESIGNED TO RIP OFF ALL LITTLE PEOPLE. Once upon a time, before the nineteen eighties and before dirtbag fucking President Reaganomics Ronald Reagan happened; it was at least semi-honest and still worth holding positions in. Now, I wouldn't invest one red cent in that billionaires criminal club of Manhattan if you handed mother fucking me ten trillion dollars in solid mother fucking cunt platinum for goddamn CRISSAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There still lives a fine elderly upstanding gentleman named James Earl Carter who was the President before Reagan, who totally knows, at least in one powerful fucking parallel universe, that Mark Mohr actually died on August 15, 1986, went to eternal hell from which no mother fucking escape is humanly possible; and then brought back out of hell, this entire, well, whatever it all is around us now!!!!!!!!!! And I too live here amongst you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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 5^th 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 4^th 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 5^th 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 fucking 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

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. 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.

RED ALERT—RED ALERT—RED ALERT

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:

SOMEBODYME

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!

Oh how I totally hate your miserable guts, JANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But still, Lenny Briscoe sir, I now reiterate what I said back on February the 20^th 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.

Image result for images free funny faces

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

THE END, AND STINKING TO DOGTOWN BDG.

FBI; I CANNOT TAKE ANY MORE!!!

SO I AM GOING TO SHORTLY BE KILLING MYSELF!

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR PHASES CHART:

THURSDAY, APRIL 23, 2020

CURRENT PHASE IS:

WAXING CRESCENT 1:7

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.

'THE END', AND STINKING TO DARN DOGTOWN!!!

Apr 17, 2020 2:00 PM – Apr 24, 2020 1:00 PM

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'THE END', AND STINKING TO DARN DOGTOWN!!!

AND PAST THE DOGTOWN BRIDGE TOO, YOU ROTTEN MILITUFORCE EMMEREFFERS!!!!!!!!!!!

Nothing ever ever ever fucking cunt changes, ENEMIES USE NOISE AGAINST ME, as this has been their successful mode of attacking me since I was ten mother fucking cunt eating years of cunt eating age! Well, we all know that is off by four, but then that's just the way it all goes, huh Mister Count Marcucci & Mister Gohome Malyeska?

Prove it, you say? Sure I can prove it, with one simple paste in, not that I could not spend a mother fucking decade straight, pasting in another ten thousand of these examples, YO! To quote Judge Judy the great and powerful; if it never ever stops and there is no other choice, I will have to M---O---V---E! Now no genius needs to see what is going on here. I will not insult the fucking intellect of my kind wonderful viewers. I begin a serious discussion on something that they already know from how I began things, and they are quite upset, and they do not want this blog to happen, so they will do a lot of shit to prevent it, and I am prepared, right down to saving every paragraph one by one, and so forth, as I have already experienced one strange hack before colorizing and enlarging the word ''move'', and they are on me, they being none other than what they have been and will always be all along folks, the MILITUFORCE, and this means an organized society in future times in localized parallel universes, that Morianity has labeled and named, the ESS, or spelled out, the:

EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, ARTHUR CRANE SIR?

“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”

????????????????????????????????????

(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951---(February 18, 2009)

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.
Long story short, the mail was always delivered here, at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.

Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Callas, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! www.blogger.com/http/drunkenhive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?

GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.

E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.

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anonymous said on Apr 02, 2009....

You shrunk a bit there dalmatian, but I saw you still speak the human lingo, wow, you are telling the truth, God is 16 or at least she watches the show.

Comment on "Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?"

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This is YYYYYYYYYYYYY this poor dog should not live in this eternal doghouse, it is quite simple really. Let me explain things to you ladies and gentlemen:

BECAUSE IT IS UNFAIR

BECAUSE I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE IT

BECAUSE I AM INNOCENT

BECAUSE I AM IN AGONY AND TIRED OF BEING ENDLESSLY PERSECUTED BY ALL MIGHTY SCYLLA GODDESS.

BECAUSE I AM DAMMED IF I DO AND DAMMED IF I DON'T.

GET IT YET, GOOD FOLKS???????

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SEPTEMBER 28, 2018,

WEDNESDAY MORNING, AT 4:44,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS ** DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS **%, AND THE

HEAT INDEX IS ** DEGREES

MAJOR HACKING. WEATHER DATA IS GOING CRAZY.

SUPER COMPUTER HACKING TODAY, SHERIFF.

WIND IS ***, GUSTING TO ***.

RAINFALL IS ****.

My computer was hacked big hyper time huge, when I tried to open up my OPEN-OFFICE 3.1 Program. It would not come on from the screen icon, so I had to go into programs to click into it, and the icon on the screen is off, so I'll have to open it up the long way from now on until and unless I can find someone who knows how to put it back on the screen as the icon. On top of this, MY MOTHER ******* TRIAD NEIGHBOR SITUATION, abbreviated to my TNS, is very bad today. The toilet germ sleaze bag bitch above me hammered this morning AGAIN, kind sheriff, she never ever stops doing this, and I know she is intentionally ******* annoying me, as it is beyond the **** huffing point of absurdity! To say the very least, kind Sheriff Mascara of Saint Lucie County, Florida, USA; this is a very BAD BOTBAR DAY FOR ME, but the kind sir, SOSO-WEIN (Same Old Same Old, What Else Is New?) Nothing ever changes for me under this mother ******* **** eating HUNTINGTON HELL CURSE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The reason I am hated by a lot of these 'HALLS FAWCES' is because they cannot control my mind the same damn way that they control just about everybody else's. That totally pisses them off. Yes, I have ******* deactivated my WeatherBug system, as it is showing hurricane force winds and a temperature of 52. It showed nearly 100 with no winds when it first popped up, and has floated all over the place, Federal Communications Commission, and Anti-hacking and anti-terrorism forces of the USA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is terrorism because this ******* **** is meant to terrorize me and make me live an endless life of endocrinologists and living endless hells, huh Merry Hollister? So as I said, and now in reiteration: The reason I am hated by a lot of these 'HALLS FAWCES' is because they cannot control my mind the same damn way that they control just about everybody else's. That totally pisses them off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh so now the hackers have released my Weather Bug from their evil demonic HALLS-FAWCES grip of TERROR! WOW, Merry and Joanna!

You just go right on laughing at me. I know a magic person from Long Beach Island, who knows the biggest secret of all, Patty Hollister; and told me. You know, that SHE'LL get me for this. Well, she got me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SEPTEMBER 28, 2018,

FRIDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:29,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE,

THEY ARE HACKING AGAIN, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM UNABLE to provide my BLOGAUDIANS with a weather report, AS RUSSIAN-TRUMP HACKERS are quite obviously ******* with my **** sucking ****!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot be certain of the following facts because I am being hacked to death, Sheriff. I believe the weather facts for my local area to be as follows: It is 88 degrees with a humidity of 70%. The heat index is 100 degrees. Rainfall today is 0000 centi-inches. Wind is blowing ESE at 11 miles per hour, with no measurable gusts presently. Range of temps today is, High of 88, and Low of 75. This is a real true and honest STACEY-LATTISAW JACK HACK ATTACK DAY, YO Sheriff, kind pal and great sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW-THAT one, Joanna-a! And yes great folks,

THAT'S JUST REALITY, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apartment Number 1802 Robin Hill, was very magical; and I'll bet even Patty Hollister agreed with that, back in 1980. The trouble is, I was out of contact at that time, but the reason for that would take five years to scratch any serious surface about, folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, for one thing, it was where I resided in a particular matching time year, 1---9---8---0. A half blind brain injured snotty bratty child however, can plainly see that these two numbers both contain three similar digits. Now before taking all of this too much further, there is the other magical two digits that we arrive at when we look at 1802 and 1980, and begin playing with the 180 and the eliminated two digits after this process is completed, the '2', and the '9'. I talked about the song lyric of the 1980 Copyrighted © music project that I did called, “The Morning Light”, with the year of 1992 being discussed in the third and final verse to the song. But now we move onto the 92 inversion, or '29'. This is PEE's birthday. Sam the maintenance man asked me, and I'll quote him from the first week of the summer time, back in 1996, “Who's your goddess girlfriend”? I still do not remember anything other than a few quick bright flashes for that entire day, back there at the mighty and awesome 'Highview Apartments'. But I do know that Patty-Paula did come over, and AGAIN, had her way with me, to steal my DNA again, and then on March the 29^th of 1997, along came lovely daughter PEE, only she miscarried. This was part of that wild nightmare, that my Blogaudians all know about only too damn well. BUTTTTTTT, there is a parallel world, where she did not miscarry. This is where PEE was born, and lives with me and the entire family, at what over here in this world, is the great Roundhouse Museum, in Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. There is a million giga-tons more to all of this, but for right now, we are only concerning ourselves with the '92' and '29' numbers that remain, once the nine and the two digits, are indeed removed, from the four digit numbers of 1802, and 1980, remembering of course, that I moved into 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, on May 1, 1980!

BLOG 36 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN

SUB-TITLE:

''GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS'' CONTINUING CHAPTERS IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3

My mom worked in a wild and amazing office, for a wild and amazing shipping company that was known the world over, called Lavino Shipping, of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She met many fascinating characters in this place, even my father, who at the time my mom was there in early earliest days and times, was in the Naval system. In those days, the service which he had joined, became a part of the United States Navy, during World War Two, (WWll) and I speak of the Merchant Marines. My father was at the Philadelphia Navy yard at the time, and the so-called great experiment that never was admitted to by our government, was ongoing. My parents met during that experiment that never took place, officially that is. Mizz Jane Crappants Slutweeds Sleazedisease just pissed in my ear with her page eleven of mother ******* eleven, so let me compensate here pweeeeeeeeeeze, kind folks!

Continuing on with my parents, the great never-happened experiment, the world renown shipping company, and all of these totally wild, bizarre, and beyond strange characters; that were all a perfectly integral part of this incredible Shakespearean play; the great Patty Hollister was most likely, and all puns and multiple drivers licenses aside, “KING of the parade”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hammering, motorcycles, slamming doors, this has been a real death siege today Sheriff sir, along with a ton of **** sucking computer hacking. Well, the noise woke me up out of a nightmare where I was in a parallel world Atlantic City, and a huge storm had blown up, and waves were coming over the boardwalk, and washing into the Resorts Hotel Casino, where I was standing. My mom was inside the casino speaking to some totally weird people, even weirder than the most outlandish of her great office crew! I was happy to exit my way out of that interaction, and have had to brave the continuing noise all around me. I am really under the goddamn gun in here Sheriff, so try to assist me in any way that you can, please kind sir. TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To adequately get real far into this office mess, will take tons of blog work, and won't be happening now in some wild long mega-blog. No way, to quote my mom's late and ex-old friend, Mizz Audrey Heller, of Audubon, New Jersey, USAESMWG! BUTTTTT I will open a few hornets nests up today, in retaliation for this death attack ******* strike on me, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There also are tons of 'DO-NOT-CROSS' red-lines, and caution yellow taped barriers, that I quite obviously must adhere to; and even my most retarded followers know all of this quite well. Powerful named recognized people are involved, and when people with money and power want to shut you up, they will wreck your life in ways that you cannot ever prove, and then you are left to sit all alone trying to salvage lots of broken pieces all around you in Humpty-Dumpty-ville.

But let me get the hornets all buzzing just a bit, on a few things that leave me relatively safe to discuss cleverly, and sort of in round about ways; yet as ADA Ron Wirtz Senior said to me so well in 1991, “Mark, you get your point across, on those DS-Destruct tapes, as you call them”! As soon as I posted up my last blog, and then shortly retired to bed; POW. I was with some people who I do not know from over here in this waking world system of reality, and they were trying to get me to take them to that house of nakedness, on the highway, somewhere in the vicinity in N.E. Philadelphia's Grant Avenue, and Interstate-95. Someone in the Exploratronic Supermind Society of the non-automobile and Lexus Chapter, HAHAHA, was attempting to pump me for all sorts of nasty information. This was just a few hours after I posted up this last blog in the world of cyber-electronics. But it gets a whole lot freaking better than this, kind folks out here, from Mother-Russia with love, all the way to the damn lovely moon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then I found myself being questioned by some Narcotic Detectives about my anti-anxiety medications, and they were totally and absolutely demanding to know the true connections in all of this, with my daughter and myself. Anyone not half brain-dead knows that there is one, but they were going to get me to tell them a lot more secrets than I planned to, by taking me with them in what mortals call an extremely vivid and lucid dreaming experience. The real joke here is that lots of people think the real thing being covered up here, is the stigma of emotional problems as we called this in my younger days, being the main theme running through this unpleasant tale of hellish woe. If it was really only that easy, or to quote the doctor, “I don't think that's his problem, Misses Mohr”. The real problems are HALLS-FAWCES, and the mighty engine and vehicle that empowers them and all of their powerful parlor tricks, the ESS (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY)! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-SLAM-SLAM-SLAM!

Sheriff, this is mother ******* ridiculous, kind sir. pweeeeeeeeeeze come over and see what they are **** chewing putting me through in here today, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

I am back on that train again, reliving for the two hundredth time give or take a few times, this nightmare looped life. Oh I know quite well how some have questions for me, who have managed to go to the LOC, and read my 1994 book, “TPB”, in Washington 13-600-DC. Folks, I do not claim to know stuff, only to be able to shuffle lots of pieces all together and play with them to try and get a picture puzzle solved; The Ultimate Super Sleuth, could be the name of this puzzle. All the top people in the great United States Copyright Office know a few powerful truths from this so-called work of fiction, the main one being, 'it is no fiction'. Merely an exaggerated work based on absolutely true **** in the life of one MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IF I AM LYING, MAY I BURN IN HELL FOREVER WITH B.C., HUH OLD PAL, SENATOR KENNEDY!!!!!!!!

Will Morty Mortino ever allow me to escape?

My blogs

So just what was happening around the time that I left high school at my special-ed school called 'Bancroft' for 'exceptional children'? Well, several things were going on that were more visible although when living through these times, I experienced that typical effect we all know as not seeing the forest from the trees, and then also, there were a few very outlandish and more invisible powers or HALLS-FAWCES that were most definitely at work with me, YO!!!! A silly puss eating child most likely knows that we can spell a lot of this out with the letters 'Patricia Hollister'. But going on further will take a mountain of time and type, YO FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then there also is Atlantic City, although we all have probably figured out by now, that Patty from 'anywhere she wants to travel' and Paula from Atlantic City or 'any other place she also may wish to travel', is kind of like Clark Kent and Superman, and don't scoff off the comparative made here, because if this is not some kind of a SUPERGIRL, then just who and what really would she be, CBS NETWORK?????????

Yes great Senator Kennedy, I am glad you believe in this almighty being just the way that I do. And as Goddess SSJKK is my witness, if this story is a lie in any way, MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS HERE AS MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, IN 10 TIMES WORSE PAIN AND HELL, AND THE REST OF ETERNITY MAY I BURN IN ENDLESS FIRE AND HELL AS WELL!!!!!!

The absolute answers will never be known with all of this. Still, I know a whole lot more than I feel safe to reveal on a blog to an online world or any world that could care less about my personal safety and just believes me to be a total crackpot ***hole! So we will putter around with small pieces of chump-change, at least for now. Patty had some very weird stuff on her desk one day at this shipping company office once called Lavino, and after an English firm bought them out, presently called INCHCAPE SHIPPING, or at least presently as of the start of this century. For all I know it could be anything today, as we all live in a rapidly altering world and society. I know that I do not have to tell anyone that simple truth. I know that Patty wanted those things on her desk to be somehow delivered into my hands, but in a way that she could never be held responsible for the event happening. This was some very strange information about a school that today might be thought of sort of as an online college. It offered several courses in subjects ranging from mathematics, sciences, languages, and some occult studies. As most of those reading these words know only too well, I chose a section of the last mentioned on that list, called 'The Secrets of the Fascitar'. Only through this powerful item, did many of the present world events around us, really and truly all come around to happening. This much I can safely say without crossing over the REDLINES! BUTTTTTTTTTTTT should I ever tell how my medical condition really and truly came about, and I don't mean that nasty sex junk that I discussed about trash cans, over at the Medical Research Institute; but if I were to get into all that I know about why I choked to death in 1983, went to hell, and came back as the Chosen Huntington; well, let's just say that 'things would get rather dangerous for me around here', real quickly. Sounds like Jimmy Olson and I need to have Superman fly over right about now, and help us,here in Greengrass county, in or near, or maybe far, from all great lakehouses anywhere! In any event, even Lightning told me to 'BE CAREFUL' when dealing with Patty Paula, sort of like other PP's out of my more recent past nightmares. 'Oh well', Ann King!

Speaking of beautiful Lightning Goddess Diana Z. Arteemis, thank you so very much for visiting with me, lovely LIGHTNING, IWALU, 990-990-990-990-990-990-990!Laugh if you ******* want to peeps, but I tell you all straight right now, dogs are not treated anywhere nearly as bad as I am being mother ******* treated all over **** chewing hyperspace.

Yessir, try and say nice things on Haddon Avenue Russ, as I doubt that me' peeps up there to the north really are doing any of this to me. I think it is the mighty Exploratron Jewelly White all along who activates through Patty, Paula, and even Melanie a long time ago. I really do. I don't blame them, so let's not call anyone's daughters by mean names, or burn up any wonderful books that would have come in so damn ass handy many decades out into the great photon-projection of the ETERNAL-NOW!!!!!!!

THE END, AND NAUT SMELLING GOUUUUUD!

Cut me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!

JULY 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5-----WEEK 0

6 7 8 9 10 11 12----WEEK 1

13 14 15 16 17 18 19----WEEK 2

20 21 22 23 24 25 26----WEEK 3

27 28 29 30 31

AUGUST 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2----WEEK 4

3 4 5 6 7 8 9----WEEK 5

10 11 12 13 14 15 16---WEEK 6

17 18 19 20 21 22 23---WEEK 7

24 25 26 27 28 29 30---WEEK 8

SEPTEMBER 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5 6-----WEEK 9

7 8 9 10 11 12 13----WEEK 10

14 15 16 17 18 19 20----WEEK 11

21 22 23 24 25 26 27----WEEK 12

28 29 30

OCTOBER 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4--------WEEK 13

5 6 7 8 9 10 11-------WEEK 14

12 13 14 15 16 17 18-------WEEK 15

19 20 21 22 23 24 25-------WEEK 16

26 27 28 29 30 31

NOVEMBER 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1--------WEEK 17

2 3 4 5 6 7 8--------WEEK 18

9 10 11 12 13 14 15-------WEEK 19

16 17 18 19 20 21 22-------WEEK 20

23 24 25 26 27 28 29-------WEEK 21

DECEMBER 1969

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5 6----------WEEK 22

7 8 9 10 11 12 13---------WEEK 23

14 15 16 17 18 19 20---------WEEK 24

21 22 23 24 25 26 27---------WEEK 25

28 29 30 31

JANUARY 1970

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3-----------WEEK 26

4 5 6 7 8 9 10----------WEEK 27

11 12 13 14 15 16 17----------WEEK 28

18 19 20 21 22 23 24----------WEEK 29

25 26 27 28 29 30 31----------WEEK 30

FEBRUARY 1970

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7------------WEEK 31

8 9 10 11 12 13 14-----------WEEK 32

15 16 17 18 19 20 21-----------WEEK 33

22 23 24 25 26 27 28-----------WEEK 34

MARCH 1970

S. M. T. W. T. F. S.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7-------------WEEK 35

8 9 10 11 12 13 14------------WEEK 36

15 16 17 18 19 20 21------------WEEK 37

22 23 24 25 26 27 28------------WEEK 38

29 30 31

There are many many things that nobody totally understands. The biggest hidden truths that some powerful incredible invisible HALLS FAWCE doesn't want any of you to see or really understand EVER, is the fact that our physical brain is an instrument that is dividing our true conscious-being by the speed of light squared, or the same truth as saying in Purgatory, we are slowly losing energy over a virtually infinite period, and then we pop out into this, whatever this is. It is not really us going out to here, but us making this what it has become in some sort of organized programmed system that we all agree on, astrally. When in Purgatory, we have interactions. They are literally one and the same as our 'thoughts' of anything. It is not created by them, it merely IS the exact same thing. We in our true isness of being, are nothing but the true force's pieces. We all are parts of this GOD as you all call it. This one god. We all lose energy at some point and need to recharge so to speak. So we fall out into this CREATION. But I know for absolute sure that this GOD is a gigantic GAME-PLAYING entity that loves to play zillions of endless countless games, and us here on this one whittle world is just one of HER zillions of countless GASME-GAMES. But looking at this from a material point of view, I know as sure as I sit here, there is no god or positive force who cares one fucking iota about any of us, and there never was. I also know beyond any doubt that there is indeed some monstrous evil horrendous FAWCE that means us all NOTHING BUT HEARTACHE AND MISERY AND AGONY, and can bullshit all of us who haven't used the great ancient FASCITAR to see it all for themselves. Yes there is a SATAN, but I promise you all, there is NO GOD,not the way you think of. It can and it does become all sorts of things for all of us. For me she has become PINK GODDESS SSJKK my great Astral Teen-Queen, and yes, she can and will become anything for everyone in her great capitol city of the entire Purgatory, but the entire thing is just one huge mother fuckign worthless balloon hoax when all is said and done in a vigintillion to the googalplex power of eons. Nothing but nightmares and horror is endlessly surrounding all of us, and it is all hopeless and pointless to the power factor of mother fucking infinity! Patty Hollister was the main character that MIGHTY VIQUEEN Jewelly White used, who resides right here in this goddamn one particular locale in the 5^th dimensional hyperspace. The nightmare in Atlantic City, the chain steal deal, Russell Thaxton and the BOOK OF THE BEACH, and the 1983 choking in Atco, the final second death of Cherry Hill that took me to endless DOE, (Dogtown On Earth), all of this was organized by Julia White the great Head Viqueen of lovely teen goddess SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE. All of these things led me to that strange 153 day experience all inside of that one wild incredible nightmare-dream in 1986 where I never ever woke up from, andnow I reside right here in this alternate locale, wherever this fuckign crazy nightmare shit truly is, and Mister Carter knows it only too well, at least in that other locale where he completely agreed with me that time when I said to him in that other Atlantic non-Harrah Casino City, “I'm dead Mister President”. He then instantly responded back to me with his bright glaring eyes staring into my face like two burning mother fucking stars, “I know”! Well, in any event ladies and gentlemen of this world, wherever this world really truly is and you all know now we have to really wonder; that great old song from back where I used to exist and the song has definitely followed me here into this new reality as have most things also, that contained those incredible lyrics of magic about “Life going on long after the thrill of living is gone”, and talks about those two characters, Jack and Diane. Yessir, if I ever figure it all out, I promise I'll mother fucking clue in everybody, even lovely Mizz Kimmy Wildechords and any other American kids!!!!!

THE END, AND STINKING ALL THE WAY TO DOGTOWN BRIDGE AND BACK!

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Monday, April 27, 2020

THE TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER, CHAPTER 80

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

Krystal's Ball

The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"

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