POOR
POOR PITIFUL NON LR-ME, CHPT. 1
Blogging
will now go like this until the computer is all packed up as it soon
will be, and once O speak to the Governor's Office to see if they can
tell me what I can do since moving is considered “essential” such
as buying fucking groceries, pandemic or no pandemic. What I'll do is
just not worry under the END OF THE BLOG, what time or date that it
is, but I will indeed post on the same day that it originates from,
at least in most cases, and if not, I will explain. But my point here
is that I'll give the full time and date at the end when I am about
to cut and paste or (CAP) it into the GOOGLE-BLOGGER website, or post
it up. For right now it is Tuesday but that is all we need concerning
chronology. Yesterday as we all know was just about the worst mother
fucking day of my entire life with that huge wing-ding party that
Mister Mexico threw. All night long even though there was no music,
doors kept slamming, and I eventually managed with help from
earplugs, to fall asleep at right around three after tossing and
turning for two hours with the continual noise from these horrible
monster filth bags next door to me. I even told the fucking cops
yesterday exactly what the Public Housing has done to me, and how the
maintenance peeps actually helped their pal and this total prick move
into here, just as was the case in the early eighties nearly forty
years ago with that monster slut whore Playboy Bunny bitch at Robin
Hill Apartments! But as for yesterday, I have examined some definite
possibilities for why this all happened to me, and yes, of course the
STOCK MARKET. When is it ever NOT that mother fucking stock market
and ICPE-APE-TECH being used on me for crissake, but in this case it
was that, and it also was other shit, OTHER REALLY HUGE FUCKING CUNT
EATING SHIT, AND I KNOW IT ONE HUNDRED DICK LICKING PERCENT, YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO !
One
of the very first things that I normally do unless I have other more
urgent and pressing motives for continuing in any particularly named
blog-book, is to change it to a new one after a day that is so beyond
monster ass bad that no words could even try and intelligently talk
about it. So this is why I am in this new blog book, BRAHHH!!! But
getting back to the other matter of examining, and even copying the
Latengrate Mizz Donna Discoqueen Summer
here, by “reevaluating my preconceived notions”, concerning
the why's and the where's of yesterday's brutal assault, and
BEYOND ELDER ABUSE, let's try and discuss it a little bit rationally.
First off, it was all about not only the most current hyperspace's
towel seepage effects, but the effects also from the night before as
well as my talking about it on the blog preceding the one posted that
began originally as NOTE or CHAPTER number 7, and ended up as a
combination of 7-8-9 and on top of that, 'B' part, since I messed up
lots of shit on my open-office files and had to literally remake lots
of new documents and eventually ended up just pasting in a whole
goddamn lot of shit into the final copy of 7-8-9-B. So we are out of
that nightmare blog-book now an dlet's just forget that it ever
fucking happened, but still, I need to examine why it did, and all
shit fuckign points to TWO POWERFUL NIGHTMARES ON STEROIDS, both of
them about none other than this HORRIBLE PARK TERRACE PUBLIC HOUSING
BUILDING here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA-ESMWG.
Let's
discuss nightmare number one that I was all set to make a day of
blogging about when literally, ALL MOTHER
FUCKING DIRTBAG DOGTOWN BROKE LOOSE AROUND ME LIKE NOTHING EVER
BEFORE IN ALL MY TIME HERE IN FLORIDA, AND YES, THIS WAS
THE ABSOLUTE MOTHER FUCKING WORST ATTACK THAT I EVER HAD HERE IN TEN
AND A HALF YEARS DOWN IN THIS MISERABLE HELLHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
told about the powerful shit with the lovely goddess girl in the
hallway and how she spoke to me about the McVeigh-Microchip that is
inside of my body and has been ever since June of 1983 when “someone
or something” Captain Shatner Trek, indeed 'PUT IT INTO ME'!!!!!!!
Telling this wild story online was a real NO-NO as the modern
expression has gone for some time now. A REALE FUCKING GODDAMN TOTAL
NO-NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But then there was the dream following that
one on the very following night, also here in this PH NON
PATTY-HOLLISTER Building, and this was all about WHAT
people? Yessir, all about how the maintenance jerk offs who had moved
this enemy nabe prick in here next door to me back on New Years Day
or maybe over the course of several days just after the actual
Christmas time of last year, and in the nightmare, they were all
insisting on having a lot of loud music in my own apartment, were
they naut, lovely Mizz Blake of the great 1983 'phone company', and
before the BIG BREAK UP INTO THE BABY-BELLS, as the expression went
back then, proving at least to me beyond one speck of fucking doubt
that I am always a powerful connection to something, because huge
things always happen around me when I am into something that it all
seems to be a part of, such as the telephone shit in 1983 that I was
going through and never was able to get to the bottom of, hard as I
persisted and tried my fucking ass of, BRO! And screw Microsucks
Corporation and screw your fucking broadcaster!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YESSIR WORLD, the maintenance peeps in that wild nightmare from hell
were insisting that I have this great big powerful amplifier here in
my apartment and on top of a bureau that I used to have in this
universe or here in waking-life as you all would say, back at 1802
Robin Hill. This was indeed the very same one that I had the
FAKE-SPEAK concerning a small nuclear reactor that I had supposedly
built abnd had become out of control and was over heating, as I knew
I was being bugged and was having my civil rights being violated back
then after that bunny bitch had moved in shortly before, and was
trying to “test them and get a reaction” to quote the great ADA
Ron Wirtz Senior of the Camden County Prosecutor's Office, who I'd go
onto eventually meet while in the final Robin Hill unit that I rented
from middle 1989 through the end of January in 1991, in unit #1102,
and that was on 5 December of 1989, and then shortly thereafter in
early 1990 somewhere, the greatest TV law show in history was
created. Another baby-bell phone company break up syndrome here I am
quite sure, delusions of fuckign grandeur all not withstanding here
folksinger-FOLKS and
MICROSUCKS!!!!!!!!!! Yes the point here
is that the towel-seepage-effects
into this waking world PROVE TO ME, just as the Christian
Bible also shows Biblical Prophets how 'TSE'
works, and can interpret what is happening right here in the waking
world; just how this 'PH' Authority
Building are all in this conspiracy to make me suffer with LOUD MUSIC
ATTACKS NOW all the time until I am able to get the
fuck out of this horrible mess I am now in with these monster
pricks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They absolutely insisted that I have
that huge amp in here, it was delivered here, it was then brought
into my apartment by the maintenance peeps, all of it, and then POW,
before I was even able to write it all down and blog this wild dream
from HELL, POOF, I went through the worst LOUD MUSIC ASSAULT OF MY
ENTIRE LIFE, ALL DAY LONG FROM NOON UNTIL A QUARTER PAST NINE, ALONG
WITH ENDLESSLY SLAMMING DOORS AS WELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For all
intents and purposes, I WAS ALSO RIGHT BACK WITH THAT HORRIBLE BITCH
PLAYBOY BUNNY IN 1982, AT THE NIGHTMARE ROBIN HELL-HILL APARTMENTS OF
DOGTOWN, OLYMPIA! And anyone who doesn't think that the most
powerhouse connectiveness of these mother fuckign wild dots from hell
or the JRSS in all of this, is just silliness so afar as the PH
standing for both PUBLIC HOUSING as well as Patty Hollister, is
blinder than the WWC (Winn-Wonder Club), with all Golden Nugget
Atlantic City cheating Casinos where Mark Mohr and Jim Burr are
playing “Opposite-Follow” Roulette one day just two hours before
the throat attack on the other end of town at the Resorts Casino, all
not one bit withstanding here, yo BREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
I
was going to say another really big item on that blog from two blogs
ago, and before yesterday's nightmare was then thrust upon me by the
mother fucking WOMO-MILITUFORCE scum. I told what happened and yes, I
told it all before on earlier blogs as well, but
I was going to add something that I decided not to at the time,
but would have if I could have known the horrible fucking assault
that I'd be struck with yesterday. Oh yes, that gang of motor-bikers
that terroristically assaulted me with biological warfare, at Guthrie
Shorts rental home and mini-mansion, back in the final years of the
nineteen-eighties in Blue Anchor, NJUSAESMWG; are the very same
people behind CREATING THIS CORONA VIRUS last year, when they
couldn't wipe me out that day on 19 August with that nightmare
horrific JURY DUTY DAY that we all know about only too damn ass well.
How do I know this? Well, to properly address and answer that
gargantuan mystery would require days and days of complicated text
writings and many blogs, so for now, I merely state that I am fully
aware that the very same group of wet-works terrorists who are not
ISIS nor are they any legitimate or recognized peeps, but are most
definitely under the control and command of the MAJESTIC-12 Black-OPS
of powerful globally connected shadow governmental forces, shortened
now by me as the 'GCSGF', and believe me or don't choose to believe
me, but I know this for positive sure, and if any authority wants to
put me on the stand, to discuss just what I know, and how I have
personally been involved with this group, at least since August of
1986, and completely against my will and only as a helpless fucking
victim, well; be my GUEST-GUESS from here
to the capitol fucking city of the great ASTRAL-PLANE (PURGATORY),
Sahasra Dal Kanwal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
tried calling the Governor's Office this morning. All you
will get or at least all that I could get, was a long waiting
hold-music-loop that we all are quite fucking familiar with I'm sure,
and then after ten minutes, they tell you to leave a voice mail. I
will either try to do this so that I can report that you never get a
call back, or maybe I will get lucky, but also, I will try to
communicate with them also in the more accepted new age way, online.
This world sucks when you lived in BETTER TIMES, when all of this
shit was beyond even the imagined nightmares of a diseased mind in
HELL! One who thinks every so often such as I do, canot help to draw
mental comparisons during even low intensity periods of cogitation.
As I type now at the beginning of this Tuesday afternoon onto a blog
that began around shortly past eight this morning, the skies of Fort
Pierce have become very CHEMTRAILED. While out on my TIKER number one
yesterday afternoon, there was a chemtrail that was meant for me when
I was at the Indian River where the Fort Pierce Inlet System swings
all the way around to the Port Saint Lucie Nuclear Plant area, and
gets quite wide for many miles, and really, is ocean water but
calmer. Also yesterday, lots of wind was kicking up when approaching
the waterway. At the beach the wind gusts were at or exceeding 30
miles per hour, or so goes my best GUEST-GUESS here. Yes, a huge set
of chemtrails are going directly over my Patty Hollister Building or
my “OTHER” PH Building here, and throughout the morning, I have
had extra problems clearing my throat as well as feeling queezy and
shitty and extra dry mouthed. Still, as for feeling rotten, anyone
out there reading these words, my age, and under this much fucking
cunt enemy stress and endless harassment, as well as also coming off
of a day as brutal as 'yesterday', Mister Marcucci; WOULD
FEEL QUITE FUCKING CUNT ROTTEN TOO, YO
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, I killed a huge
dirty rotten mother fucking roach in my kitchen about an hour or so
ago and then sprayed my final RAID CAN all over. This
is all a result of THIS PRICKY SHITTY DIRTY DISGUSTING ILLEEEEEEEGAL
MEXICAN-AMERICAN NABE FROM DOGTOWN-HELL, NEXT DOOR TO ME IN UNIT
#605, I'm quite goddamn fucking sure, YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
just in time blocked my cunt chewing screen-monitor before two more
minutes elapsed and would cause me to see UGLY ROTTEN ENEMY-JANE
Ballparks, should I happen to be MIND-CONTROLLED and or
MIND-MANIPULATED to look at the damn thing at that exact point in
time; OH MIGHTY SOUND
EFX-LADY, OF THE DREW CAREY CLUB, AND ALSO THOSE GREAT AND
WONDERFUL POWERFUL INHABITANTS OF THE FICTIONAL PLANET KNOWN AS
TALLOS-4 OF STAR TREK, that went onto launch that awesome mother
fucking terrific SYFY TV show, yo BRAH!!!!!!!! So as Sir
Chester-Frank would put things right about fucking dick sucking now,
should he happen to be here, which of course he is 'naut' lovely
Mizz AT&T BLAKE of 1983, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
THIS
BLOGGER WILL REMOVE ANY © MATERIAL UPON
REQUEST.
Those
pigs are really slamming their doors as they do at this time every
single goddamn day now. This assault is by no means over,
between the doors again as well as those horrible terroristic
chemtrails!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF 16 JUNE, 2020:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS
DEATH ASSAULT EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND
ON THIS TWO DAY MONSTER-DEATH SIEGE ON ME ON JUNE 15 AND JUNE 16,
2020, WITH
A
MAJOR
SKY AND HEALTH SIEGE, MAJOR NOISE AND NABE ENEMY DEATH ATTACK AND
ELDER ABUSE AT EPITOMIZED LEVELS, AND FINANCIAL OPPRESSION SIEGE,
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.
I
plan to call the ESS-COMCAST SERVICE to
downgrade my service, since my contract
with them ran out two or three months ago; and I can now do this,
unless they put me in a saving group plan. I cannot afford to give
them over 230 bucks a month for all this crappy fucking service, huh
CUZZ???????? When that man is right peeps, HE'S RIGHT, and
don't ever let a soul tell you he is not, or try and sell
you the biggest lie of all, that the really dumb fucking peeps all
buy into that he is DUMB. If Trump
is so fucking cunt ass DUMB then
how, come on assholes, just goddamn HOW IS HE ABLE TO BE A
MULTI-BILLIONAIRE, ABLE TO PAY HARDLY ANY TAXES AND YES, TOTALLY AND
COMPLETELY 'LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGALLY', ABLE TO LIVE A LIFE THAT NO ONE
SINCE KING MIDAS HAS LIVED, BECOME A UNITED STATES PRESIDENT; AND
THERE IS A LOT MORE? If he is so goddamn stupid and
dumb, there is no way that he could have accomplished that incredible
feat, so give the jerk off some credit and quit spreading that
totally fucking absurd lie around about him Call him a total monster
if you want to, but please, not dumb because to
call hem dumb MEANS THAT YOU ARE DUMBER THAN DOGSHIT, and the
facts back all of this shit up 100%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And hey yo Ann
King Silva, don't try pulling off his damn hair at the casino when we
all got down there that day when he comped your room for you. That
wouldn't be very goddamn nice, nor possible; as
it really is his hair, just ask that night
time talk show host who gave it a really good yank five years
ago, he'll fucking tell you!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still,
being chocked to death began in 1983, and was made far worse in 2015.
But they didn't kill me, and they couldn't kill me. Highland
Avenue-1984 Mark Wayne Mohr, just keeps doing the COPPERTOP BATTERY
Dance of Forever; Peter Paul Pedersen Pan
Geico!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
WAS SO SCARED THAT DAY IN MAY, WHILE YOU'RE FAVORITE GAME
YOU'D PLAY. AS YOUR 1-2-3, KEPT SIGNALLING ME THAT YOU'RE THERE. I
DIDN'T SEE JUST HOW, OR WHAT I HAD. AND INSTEAD I GOT SO MAD. I TOOK
OUT THE PHONE, AND WAS CUT OFF ALONE, AND I MADE MY BABY
SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM SO SO SO SORRY, MY WONDERFUL LOVELY
BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING.
WeatherBug Severe Weather Alerts
Weekend Weather Outlook
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
31
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
30
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
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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
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9 10 11 12 13 14-----------WEEK 32
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16 17 18 19 20 21-----------WEEK 33
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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
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23 24 25 26 27
28------------WEEK 38
29
30 31
So
who is Sarah
Krassle?
She
is the absolute GOD OF YOUR WORLD, and mine;
ladies and gentlemen. I
CALL HER PINK GODDESS.
Lenny
McKinnon said it, and I do not believe he said it live on that
CB-RADIO as handle ops man 601, but had it recorded from 1980, the
only year that I ever interacted with him, and this I'll quote,
“There
ain't no doubt about it”.
Just ask the 'DAMN'
© OFFICE.
He supposedly was talking to his co-radio friend, Miss Chillie. Yes,
you got it people; the
great and powerful non-OZ Copyright
Office
has all of this evidence tucked away in my music project files,
UP THERE in good old wonderful WASHINGTON in the great and powerful
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA. Oh Poolroy, go
home
already.
Now
let us all remain gainfully employed!
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?
Now
I admit that Thursday, a couple hours after that horrible shit in
Cali, the markets went down for the day, and for all I know they were
down and came up; but I don't know, and so I won't say. That is just
fair, and I am fair, and play by the rules of fair, as otherwise; who
would I ever be, to talk about those who don't, for crissake? But the
very next day after a big drop, all the losses were made up,
+++PLUS+++ nearly another hundred points of profit were gained. Now
AGAIN, we have a stock market that is responding +++POSITIVELY+++ to
terrorism, and that makes me more nervous than any fucking terrorist
ever could, with all their dam weapons and horror.
I said after the attack a couple of weeks back, in Paris France, the
very same thing. WHY IS THE DOW JONES RACING UP A THOUSAND POINTS
AFTER TERRORISM, it is not normal, it goes against 150 years of
trading history, and it PROVES to anyone not totally fucking
brain-dead, that something is going on here, and it ain't fuckign
good one little tiny ass bit, YO. It seems that WALL STREET, by its
very own trading behavior, is responding favorably to terrorism. If
you can argue back with me on this, then do it. Comment, you
buttwipes, but if you choose not to, then I am going to assume that
you agree or you are major major Milituforce Enemies to Mountainpen
and Morianity. The ONLY THING THAT RATIONALLY EXPLAINS WHAT IS
HAPPENING NOW AFTER TWO HORRENDOUS TERROR ATTACKS FOLLOWED BY SUPER
BULL MOVING STOCKS ON FUCKING WALL STREET, is that I AM RIGHT, and
that this has nothing at all to do with national, or global events;
or anything that used to apply, in some real world of my NON-HELL,
ever since 15 August of 1986; when my life turned a major and
inconceivable Pat
Robertson Hurricane Talker Cornerstone
or
for short, a (PRHTC)
and
that these moves on Wall Street are NOTHING other than what I,
Mountainpen, have claimed for a solid ten years on these blogs;
United
States Attorney General;
a technology that is
super black covert hushed up majestic level top secret classified,
ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY,
is indeed being used
on poor Mark Wayne Mohr,
and has been for 30 solid years;
and
this is the result, and the effect, of this being done; a
market that went from 1800
or
so points, to over
18,000
or
so points. That is not the standard amount of annual gain from the
time these markets were created, up through August
15, 1986.
BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT, people; after August
15, 1986
through
present times; the new-normal,
as
some are using this new P.C. terminology within the framework of our
new age issues, such as GW- meteorological, and gun violence, and
other things that are part of the third millennium; is so far from
the 'old-normal', it is silly to pretend that there is a zero percent
chance that I am anything but insane and crazy, and a 100% chance
that I am, and that all of this shit is crap. But
still,
to
quote Detective Lenny Briscoe, I doubt I have one person on the
fucking planet, convinced of this powerful and unfathomable truth!!!!
Someday
soon folks, IF I AM RIGHT; just where will some of you be?
Face
reality you jerk offs, I won't live forever. I am dying now, and
fast; and I won't be here another nine hundred fuckiGN years. When
I am gone, the Milituforce is going to be mother fucking desperate
for replacement-me's. They probably have already been experimenting
on some of you without your awareness to it,
so that it will begin with you, as
soon as I kick the Christ off.
You
can laugh at me now, and think you will all escape this shit. And
folks, you are wet in the head, and a lot of you will be targeted or
someone who you know and love will be targeted.
Whoever thought in a million fuckiGN years, that we would have mass
shootings more than once per day? But 2015 came in, and we are not
moving towards it, but are long into it; and
it is indeed more than one per day, by the definition on a mass
shooting,
and
all of this information is Google-available, so click on folks. Don't
ever take me at my word when you don't have to. The problem here is
that you have to, when
it comes to this ICPE-APE deal.
So all I beg of you, is to honor my name by not cursing me out, when
all this fuckiGN shit comes to fruition, within a decade or less; and
your
lives are turned into a mother fuckiGN hot ass living hell nightmare,
that you'll find absolutely no recourse for, or any possible fuckiGN
escape from. The fucking dirt bag Milituforce
just struck me with a WORD-DISAPPEARING-HACK at 10:34 Post Meridian.
This is back again, Federal
Bureau of Investigation,
meaning that things
are real fuckiGN bad and only going to get worse.
I too have learned through these three decades of total fuckiGN hell,
kind FBI; to do profiling, statistical analysis, and much more.
You
guys and gals ain't the only one who the good fucking Lord handed out
brains to, YO!!!!!!! My best to Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas,
USA, BRO!
“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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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???????
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
JANE;
I HATE YOUR GUTS, YOU WITCH!!!!!
I
DON'T WANNA' FUCKING HEAR IT, NEW KID!
WHAT
CAN I SAY, SIR JAY-JAY, DIE-NO-MITE EVANS?
Gorgeous
inmate Alice Simonelli
said it all; on the greatest mother fucking dick licking law show, to
ever grace the lands of television; Dick
Wooooooolf's
Law&
Order.
She said, referring to the prison guards (Correction Officers or CO's
for short), “They
have all the power”!
Folks, fuck the dam CO's. The people in this classification and
category, can be thought of as the
quintessential anti-bums.
But it ain't the dam correction officer people who have all the
power; only all the power in the prison system. The
billionaire's have it all,
and that lovely teen girl protester, who spoke to President Nixon,
suddenly seemed to gain that revelation. Watch the great movie;
another
great Ollie Stone production, called, “NIXON”.
This
sudden coming upon her,
while speaking to the true most powerful person on Planet Earth, or
how true might be a bit relative, but still; this
knowing something suddenly is a very serious and quite mysterious
matter.
It is called, MORIANITY.
It
finds us, we don't create or find Morianity.
Cosmos decides literally to single out pieces of itself, to make
revelations clear to them that would otherwise remain absolutely
mysterious and ever-unknown!!!!
Oh
great Billy Swan and Robin Gibb, and Marcy Levy, yo! LIKE GODDESSDAMN
SUPER-WOW; LOVELY
OPRAH.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!
Yes I sure would love to START
OVER.
To:
But
whether or not I do, and we all know I will soon, when I find me'self
back on that February of 1969 PATCO-HIGH SPEED LINE-TRAIN OF NEW
JERSEY, in-between the Westmont and the Haddonfield stations, but
without enough mind and will and memory to do much good about it, but
still, regarding those two vely vely vely incredible women in this
new-age internet photo download, “The
resemblance is remarkable”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2020, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
Some cool links to early MORIANITY that really connects some damn dots:
SOME PREVIOUS POSTS FROM NEARLY 14 YEARS EARLER in 2006
Think
of the fifth
dimensional hyperspace
as a cone
whose point begins at the center of you,
wherever that truly is in the next higher dimension (the 6th),
and at every instant of motion, at the speed of consciousness
processing, about one
four-hundredth of one minute,
varying maybe up to a quarter of one percent with each unique
individual; and as we move out and up into the cone, we
move out into the hyperspace of virtually limitless and countless
parallel universe (dimensions, each containing four).
As the cone remains smaller and nearer to our true WAKING-SELF
here in so-called physical tangible life,
the possible variances to the center point of here and now in this
universe, are at their minimum. They do however continue to endlessly
spread out into the cone, and the further into the cone that we would
move from our true self here, we can see this as moving farther out
into the more distant-hyperspace parallel worlds or realities. When
we DREAM, for those who remember these things or NAUT; we move into
the hyperspace, and normally, we enter this cone at our-POINT-self,
and as we move out into its ever-widening dimensionality, we leave
our waking 'real life' made up of totally perfectly divided by light
speed squared energy-self isness of being, and we slowly venture out
into the wilder and wilder, (by our here and now life perspective
anyway), relatability.
When we dream the crazy shit where suddenly the road becomes our
mother's face, or the chairs in the room suddenly become the monkeys
of a zoo, this is such a distant hyperspace locale that to us and our
ability to interpret; we
just basicly enter a MIND-STATIC-FIELD made up of these things,
and we normally can go no farther out into the cone. But when things
do not go this way, and the only difference in a dream, is maybe our
home is laid out a tad bit differently, or we are married to a whole
other spouse even, this
is still fairly localized hyperspace
in
reference to us here and now.
Now last night before coming awake again on Tuesday afternoon
somewhere, I again, as I am frequently these days; back at Jenny
Plageman's Trailer Park, the Mullica Mobile Manor, just a couple
miles east on the White Horse Pike, of Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG! This
was even more major than the time several DREAMS BACK when I was with
Stone's daughter Jennifer, and she was some psychic and a character
quite similar to the fictional television part that she plays on her
“Ghost Whisperer” show. This time, Ed Lynch (Himacane) had
somehow won a lottery, or some similar thing, that allowed him to
purchase a small part of Jenny's Park and construct a nice home there
for himself. I am not going into any more details about this
interaction experience, folks, other than to just say this much. When
people either here in waking life, or nearby in extremely localized
hyperspace in the cone, are thinking about me and thinking about a
place or an incident or some such thing, then the lawtronics of the
system above the MIND REALM (7th
dimension) automatically transfers the simulationogram-data so to
speak of that, into “my dreams”. Think of all of this as a very
controlled perfectly ordered LSD traveling system, all legal, all
safe, and absolutely organized to function in very determinable ways
every time. Now when I told that hulk-built coworker in late 1979 at
my job at the Camden RPL Sound Studio about my dream of what was
happening in the Shipping Department where he worked, his response
due to a complete ignorance to these facts, was “Mark,
you're haunted”!
It is always this way. Three centuries ago if any of you were
suddenly knocked back to those times holding a cellphone in your hand
and got caught speaking into it, you may very well be hanged as a
fucking witch. All things need to be in a proper prioritized order
before they'll ever even hope to have any sense made of them by
humanity in general, yo me' BRAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001148157
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1988
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001189027
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1989
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WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
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