MY
PERSONAL NOTES IN HELL-2020, NOTE 7
11:24
AM, MONDAY, 15 JUNE, 2020
I
am expecting the roof to cave in after popping out of one of the most
horrible fucking nightmares of my life a few minutes ago
at the dot of eleven this morning. Before going on, I hope the
GOOGLE-BLOGGER system is aware that my
blogs are being HACKED. First it was my
own legal photo-bucket photo being screwed with, and now over
the past week, it appears that I not only have some
weird spacing-hack on my own personal cum-puke-her Open Office
Program files, but also on the BLOG-WEB-SITE
SYSTEM that I copy & paste my blogs onto; as the majority
of errors that I go back and correct for later re-posts, are
not on my files, hence they are hacking
me with the same type of SPACING-HACK as well; “OH
MIGHTY NON DREW CAREY SIR AND YOUR SOUND-EFX LADY”!!!
I
found myself in this horrible parallel universe where my double was
living in this Public Housing Building and it was completely
different in architecture. I was in what Morianity labels as “DISTANT
hyperspace” as well. This is known right away when circumstances
are not only way different syuch as the layout of the apartment,
completely different maintenance men working here, and on top of that
Mister Palvo 1986 Whales Check-Off of STAR TREK; sit that goes down
is beyond off the wall, and it can range from being shit that never
would happen in more localized hyperspace, also as Morianity labels
it, does in fact happen there, and it all seems to be totally within
some 'new normal' system of life-boundaries. All of this will come
quite clear as I now illustrate the nightmare in full colorized vivid
ass detail. Maintenance peeps had come over to my apartment and were
insisting that at my own expense, I put up curtains over my three
windows. This was bad enough but they wanted it done immediately, and
gave me absolutely no explanation whatsoever for their reasoning. I
had ordered a computer from some discount place in New York City and
was awaiting its arrival while all of this was going on. This total
jerk off large sized maintenance man was out in the hallway with
other coworkers of his and all sorts of shit was going on that I was
totally clueless about, and these things are about the only goddamn
thing that I can recognize from right here in 'WAKING WORLD' life. I
am just as clueless to shit all around me here, so that was one of
those nothing new at all kind of happenings, mister VamMarcucci
Von-Count-Sir from autumn of 1969 in historic and illustrious
Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG. Yes the one time that the great PRESS did
mention my existence without ever saying my name, was when they
called me in the Philadelphia Inquirer Newspaper in 1971, “The
student from Haddonfoeld, New Jersey” when referencing the
Pennsylvania high school in Lower Merion near my Aunt and Uncle's
Narberth, PAUSAESMWG home on Greentree Lane, an dhow I was taking the
summer-school-course there and was the most distant student but that
many did in fact come from out of the area. But someone somewhere as
far back as 1971 made absolutely sure that my name was never ever
mentioned in the press media systems, or the OTHER-PMS if I can tell
a quick little 'laughy-joke' here on Harrah's Casino's advertising
billboard, in the eighties, with a joke as always, ON ME. They were
taunting and teasing me concerning my 153-day trip to a parallel
world, or to “another Atlantic City”, oh
boy, Star Trek Lasserrus and President Trump, for crying out
louder than what????????? Well peeps; this will get real mother
fucking good now, so 'pweeeeeeze' STACEY-TUNED
EVWEEBWUDDY, and you
too Mister Elmer Fwudd. WOW 'big O', are the doors beginning to
really mother fucking kick up around here, since I opened up this
blog; and right on time, just as I
said!!!!!!!!! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ,
WOW, that lovely special LAKEHOUSE-LIGHTNING, but please Roger Sir,
no magical time letters???????????
It's
been proven to me more than once how people just accept the
crazy-reality syndrome of powerful life altering stuff. I did not buy
into it at all when for no discernable reasoning here in the waking
world, back in middle August of 1986, my entire life just turned and
altered on a dime. I knew there had to be some huge thing in the back
of it all, and of course I was right and there was. No one anywhere
was able to ever help me in any way because I was unfortunate enough
to be living in the dark ages of 1986 and not 1,000 years later in
2986 where any moron bum on some street, if any streets are left that
is, would have been able to smirk at me and tell me, “Hey dope,
it's a hyperspace problem, so tell me more about your 153 day
experience, and then we can both examine waking conditions
surrounding you, to see just what happened to you; and then
go onto effect the needed repairs to your life”. But no,
peeps didn't say things like that 1,000 years ago in 1986, from
the reference point of 2986 that is, and so nobody was there
anywhere at all to ever mother fucking render to me the help and
assistance that I so mother fucking desperately needed to get from
this miserable rotten world of the dinosaur age, and then Merry
calls ME A GODDAMN DINOSAUR for crying out louder than last
night's NIGHTMARES! Another set of HUGE-WOW'S would really be in
order right here, but who has time to waste when we need to focus on
the nightmare? So to quote my copyrighted
musical project from somewhere late in the eighties or
early nineties, “HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOO”!!!
Last
night's nightmares are no different at all, hyperspace is hyperspace,
and we all create all things in human life by way of our physical
brain's ability to separate, as th emagic is not consciousness or
awareness or life as we see it, but really, the magic is
SEPARATION!!!!!!!! When our true isness of being is divided by the
speed of light squared and we become a part of this physical tangible
nuclear-cosmic metaverse system; we now live through a BRAIN and all
a brain does is allows the subatomic particle called the electron, to
perform its great elusive fifth dimensional magic of separating the
oneness of both space and time, hence my labeling and naming the
truth of it all, (SPACE-TIME-MIND).
MIND SEPARATES, or mind creates the separation of what otherwise
would be zero-dimensional energetic lawtronic program, or what “is
at the very center of the great black hole” to see it in another
way. However we see the truth of it all, this is why Morianity labels
the real physical world as nothing more than STM.
To quote Mizz Hicks on the great 1986 whales movie, “That as they
say is that”. To also quote the great mysterious beach bum Sir
Ziggy Malyeska of Atlantic city and Florida in the off season times,
back in 1969, “That's the way it goes”. Same diff, as the new age
expression also “goes”, right? So back to the nightmare on
steroids, folksinger FOLKS and Sir Mike Sucks Corp, yo yo yo!!!
I
am in my weird apartment, that is about as different in shape and
basic floor plan as it gets, from the comparative vantage point of
here anyway, and one of the maintenance men was really upsetting me.
I was awaiting the arrival of a new computer and he was telling me
that I had to put curtains up over my three window system. Here, as
well as there, venetian blinds are already covering the three windows
at least in my apartment, and two of the three sets are broken in so
far as any ability to manipulate and use them properly. I tried hard
here to get them to repair them, and they never would, just as we all
know that ever since Trump threw his hat into that 2015 ring for
presidential election, my situation here at Public Housing suddenly
and instantly had completely changed forever from what it had been
before Trump ran. So I had two problems to content with
simultaneously in this nightmare but that was only the very shallow
fucking beginning to it all. Suddenly my package was at my door and
the maintenance man insisted on bringing it in to me, and he opened
it up from the box, and it was not a computer, but a very large sound
amplifier that was jet black and had countless plugs and jacks in the
rear of it and endless space rocket controls in the front of it. The
maintenance man insisted on clearing off a bureau that I had over in
that parallel world, and he then placed this amp on top, and he said,
“I ever saw so many jacks and controls on anything in my life and I
used to work in an electronics shop twenty years ago”. I didn't
answer him other than to keep insisting that I had absolutely no
interest in this damn thing and wanted it put back into the box that
it was delivered in. DOORS-DOORS-DOORS-DOORS, and over here in this
waking world universe!!!!!!!!! so getting back to the parallel world,
the guy was beyond annoying and I reminded him that he had insisted
on my putting up curtains so how can I do this with him in here
screwing with me and this stupid amplifier machine? He then said, “I
can't wait to hook up some really large speakers to this thing”,
and I begged him not to do this, and I reminded him that, “My next
door neighbor would blast his system all the more if you does this”,
and so I instantly made a conscious lucid recall to the fact, that
I was “in a dream” and had the same bad neighbor next to me or at
least 'A NABE' WHO BLARED LOUD ASS JUNKY MUSIC NOISE at me. I
then said if you have to do this, I have several headphone sets in
here, and in that reality there, I had all of old phones from New
Jersey, even the old SONY PRO PHONES that could handle 1,000 watts of
power and had total frequency range of the entire audio spectrum. I
began rifling through a large closet area that I only wish I had here
in this universe or (waking-life), but couldn't find the
SONY-HEADSET, but there were ten or so other sets and I grabbed
another one and handed it to this total dip shit harassing
PHA-employee of transdimensional (5-DHS) hyperspace. At this point,
my door was wide open and several of his coworkers were also in my
apartment, and they all began looking at the amp, and many began to
mess with it and one of them then proceeded to plug it in to a wall
outlet. I then was busy examining the box to try and see a return
address, and it looked like some weird town in Illinois-USA
somewhere, but I was unable to clearly read the printing as it had
somehow become somewhat illegible. Suddenly, a police officer was in
the apartment with me and several of the maintenance men, and he
never got in through the doorway, but rather one of my rooms
seemingly connected a magical corridor that just allowed anyone to
come from unless a door was locked all the way at the end of it, and
it too was now wide open and I could see in the distance, a whole
slew of more people out beyond the end of that area. Here in waking
life, this apartment is a studio apartment and only has a bathroom
abnd kitchen area that is not part of the one large room, and these
two places were not even remotely similar in floor plan, as the one
over there was beyond huge. This police officer was also a very large
and heavy set tall man about fifty years in age, balding, Caucasian,
blue eyes and brown short hair, and had a very deep strong voice. He
wore some type of a jacket with many metals on it and all sorts of
badges and I knew that he was some higher ranking officer than the
usual foot patrolling officers. Suddenly however, he no longer was
wearing his jacket. When I asked him if he had left it somewhere in
my apartment, he refused to discuss it. Then, he wasn't as nice as
he was before and was siding with everybody else when I kept telling
him that all I wanted was to be left alone, and to take that stupid
amp out of here. Then I observed that I no longer seemed to have a
door to my apartment at all, and all I had was a small hospital type
of rolling-curtain at the doorway. Then the place cleared out except
for the one maintenance dude who it all began with still there and
sitting down in one of my chairs now, between where they had placed
the amp on top of a dresser that I had there, and the doorway that
was in an 'L'-shaped floor plan from that opposite end of the
apartment where this was all taking place. I then began to tell the
guy a few things that were happening to me in this miserable
Huntington Curse only I remember distinctly not mentioning the name
of it. I told him that, “My entire life is so horrible that you
wouldn't believe it in a million years, and now there is no way I can
get to the curtain project until tomorrow”. At first he wasn't nice
about it and kept insisting that I find a way to do it TODAY, but as
I teared fuckign up, he finally agreed that if I do it by TOMORROW,
it will be okay. He then said to me, “We all know that you have
some terrible family problem. The whole damn world knows it too, but
nobody knows what to do about it, and it's as if we're all players or
actors in some crazy and weird play”! I thought that I'd fucking
shit myself when he spoke that to me, folks. I then told him a few
other things and he said that, “Look, I just told you, the entire
planet knows of your situation on some back of the head level, but
none of us can help you; you pitiful little moron”. Then he walked
over to the huge stereo amplifier or whatever the shit eating hell it
was, and one of his coworkers who had returned with a large wagon
cart of some type came in with it making a real loud squeaky sound
even though the floors have the same type of rug remnants that I have
here in this waking world where I am typing this nightmare out on
this blog, and yes, while doing so,
slamming endless doors are going on around me, and weird sounds above
me upstairs which for a week now seem to be back again an dis a real
royal mother fucking pain in my goddessdamn asshole, cubed and
squared!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now Mister Mexico is blaring his subs at
intolerable levels, and I knew THIS GODDAMN DAY WOULD BE TOTALLY
FUCKING MONSTROUS AND HORRIBLE. I will finish my blog tonight, and
now, I am awaiting the arrival of the police even though nothing
seems to be able to be done. He has it up so loud that if they hear
it now, they would have to tell him to lower it, so all I can do is
hope.
Well,
hope may burn mother fucking eternal,
but in my case as we all know only too cunt eating well, things
remain totally HOPELESS,
and the last three letters of hopeless explains the precise and exact
reasons why they indeed are and endlessly will be, just that,
HOPELESS!
THIS WAS THE WORST DAY OF THE ENTIRE YEAR AND CENTURY. This bastard
next to me threw a huge wing wing and I am most likely just in the
middle of another short interrmission of it, as it began around noon
or so and was still going strong at a quarter past three this
DISAFSTERNOON!!!!!!!! Doors were slamming, an dmusic was blaring.
Leave it to the goddamn Mexican-American culture to be rude and mean,
and if I am acting racist here, well, I am still a lot better than my
super racist fucking whittle mommy who brought me up to be just about
the mst racist thinking man in America, as she truly was the Racist
Queen indeed. Still, I disagree vehemnatly with the democratic system
of political correctness when they have fixed it so no one can even
tell the truth any longer such as we cannot say the AA race has
better rthytm any longer, when quite obcviously it is rightsmack dab
built into them, and I can go on an don sucgh as the fiery LATINS who
care of no one but themselves an dwhen they wishj to blast their
music in small apartments, they could not care less how much it up
sets a neighbor. If that is racist, just telling the truth; then
maybe I need TO SWING OVER TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOTHER FUCKING
AISLE, AND START SUPPORTING THE GREAT DISTANT COUSIN OF MINE,
PRESIDENT
#45, SIR DONALD JOHN TRUMP;
as at least he is not
afraid to tell the truth about so many things that democrats say is
rotten to do.
You see people, this is why I keep saying and have made no bones
about it all these years of these blogs, I agree and disagree on
approximately one half of the issues that are supported BY BOTH OF
THE MAJOR UNITED STATES POLITICAL PARTIES, and whether or not this
makes me an INDEPENDENT, I confess to being totally fuckign clueless.
All I know is that I violently disagree with about one half of the
issues split right down the middle, of both the Republicans, as well
as the Democrats; and 'these particular issues' may or may not, make
me a part of the great I-PARTY; and when I don't know something, I
will straight up tell you all that I DON'T KNOW IT!!!!!!!!!!!
So back now to this beyond mother fucking hellish
day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That goddamn mother fucking ANGEL OF DEATH IS
ON ME LIKE A CUNT LAPPING BIG TOM-CAT ON A CORNERED LITTLE HELPLESS
MOUSE!!!!!!! It is one pass after another, on both sides, of course
never at the same time, but I am convinced that this is why I always
get him passing me on EITHER THE LEFT OR THE RIGHT SIDE OF ME, and
thus only one ear picks his signal up, lovely Donna Gaines of
Roxberry Section of Boston, Massachusetts not all that far away from
lovely family cursed suburbs of the city, (Braintree)!!!!!!!! I
called the police twice today and no one can stop that horrible
neighbor from blasting me out day and night. I WILL HAVE TO LEAVE
WITH THE CLOTHES ON MY BACK, just as the Milituforce bastard slime
scum made me do before ten and a half years ago, and they say that
history doesn't mother fucking repeat itself! Well, one hour after my
nightmare ended at a parallel universe PHA apartment, here in this
one, MY NIGHTMARE WHILE BEING WIDE AWAKE ALL HAPPENED TO ME, so now
what do you all say about TSE (Towel-Seepage-Effects) of
transdimensional hyperspace), or the interconnected effects of dream
life with our waking lives?????????????????????? Hey, doubt my words
all you want folks. I knew that this is all true and
real!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I also will make anyone out here a million
dollar bet that the stockmarket was off this morning, and now at
exxactkly 4 PM as I type this, it has closed way up super fucking
cunt high!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This ICPE-APE-TECH shit has been
applied against me now since the middle nineteen-eighties, and it
ain't going anywhere until I AM DEAD AN DIN THE GODDAMN FUCKING COLD
ROTTEN GROUND!
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2020
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
COUNTERSTRIKE
OF NOON, ON 24 FEBRUARY, 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 WORST DAY OF MY
ENTIRE LIFE ON JUNE 15, 2020, USING FULL MAXED OUT POWER ON MY ROTTEN
MONSTER NEIGHBOR IN UNIT #605 WHO IS WIPING OUT MY LIFE,
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.
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
JOHN
J CROWLEY, Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where did it
all really begin?
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
JOHN
J CROWLEY, Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where did it
all really begin?
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
JOHN
J CROWLEY, Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where did it
all really begin?
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
JOHN
J CROWLEY, Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where did it
all really begin?
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
JOHN
J CROWLEY, Mister Tow-truck Ripoff dude from 1979, WOW, where did it
all really begin?
Nearby
Offender: Thomas
Giordano
»
FEBRUARY
13, 2020
or
JUNE 15, 2020
IT
MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO DIFFERENCE WHAT CLOCKS OR CALENDARS SAY, AS IT IS
ALL ENDLESS HELL TO ME!!!!!!!!
DOORS---DOORS-DOORS,
THIS PRICK NEXT TO ME AND HIS SCUM BAG FRIENDS HAVE SLAMMED THEIR
DOOR ALL DAY LONG SINCE AROUND QUARTER PAST ELEVEN THIS GODDAMN
MORNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I was at my memchanic's auto repair shop a few days back for a blower
fan motor replacement, I had a very similar incident happen to me
that happened that night at the Cifaloglio job with the little
illegals singing all around my guard house, and I'm just trying to
keep it all totally fucking real here,
Mister 1980 Schleigh sir, from Camden, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG!
Suddenly, one of the men working for the boss came into the shop
singing a tune, and I did not think about it at the time, but later
on that same day while at home, I recognized a powerful connection to
something that I had written late in the nineteen-eighties and of
course had copyrighted as part of one of the musical projects that I
registered at the great WASHington WASH your hands © Copyright
Office there. We can do a Jim Rockford here as we can always get back
to powerful punches or this topic, either or, later on, right Mister
Maverick?
I
looked up some phone numbers online to that hopefully again, and
there aint much hope for me as we all know only too well mister
Islander Joel; but yes, it is contact numbers for Governor Desantis
of Florida. I am getting nowhere asking all over the place where to
go to either find out how much longer I have to sit here in HELL, and
not be allowed to legally move out of this horrible shituation. I
only thought that the previous nabe Mizz Dorrie was a rotten nabe, as
this replacement scumbag takes th e cake, eats it, and vomits it
right into my face on a goddamn fucking daily basis! Maybe I can
learn if there are some other OPEN-STATES where I can move to just to
get the fuck out of here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here is what came up when I
GOOGLED, and I'll be checking things out as the days of the week
progress ever onward, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Search Results
Web results
Contact Governor DeSantis - Governor Ron DeSantis
www.flgov.com
› contact-governor
State
of Florida
... For more immediate service, please include email
address
with your letter or phone
call. ... Instead, contact this office
by phone
or in writing.
People also ask
How
do I contact the governor's office in Florida?
State
Government
- Official Name: Florida.
- Governor: Ron DeSantis.
- Contact: Email the governor.
- Phone Number: 850-717-9337.
Government of Florida | USAGov
www.usa.gov
› state-government › florida
How
do I contact the governor?
Ask
USA.gov a Question
- Ask USA.gov a Question.
- Call 1-844-USAGOV1 (1-844-872-4681)
Contact Your State Governor | USAGov
www.usa.gov
› state-governor
Search
for: How
do I contact the governor?
Where
is Ron DeSantis office?
Ron
DeSantis. Jacksonville, Florida, U.S.
Ron DeSantis - Wikipedia
en.wikipedia.org
› wiki › Ron_DeSantis
Search
for: Where
is Ron DeSantis office?
Who
is the gov of Florida?
Web results
Contact Governor DeSantis - Governor Ron DeSantis
www.flgov.com
› contact-gov-desantis
Under
Florida
law, all correspondence sent to the Governor's
Office,
which is not ... in your correspondence, such as home
addresses and telephone
numbers, ...
Administration Office - Governor Ron DeSantis
www.flgov.com
› administration
Contact:
850/717-9210 850/922-9002 (fax). Administration provides
operational support to the Office
of the Governor
through activities, which include ...
Florida Governor's Office | North Florida | State Government ...
www.orlandoweekly.com
› florida-governors-office › Location
Florida
Governor's Office.
400 S Monroe St Tallahassee, FL
32399. North Florida
850-488-7146 www.flgov. ... Classified Phone:
(407) 377-0415. Fax: (407) 377- ...
Government of Florida | USAGov
www.usa.gov
› ... › State Governments
Contact
information for the Florida
governor
and key state agencies. ... Florida.
Find contact information and major state agencies and offices
for the government ...
MyFlorida.com - The Official Portal of the State of Florida
www.myflorida.com
Latest
Update on Coronavirus Disease COVID-19 in Florida
... Instead, contact this office
by phone
or in writing. Governor
Ron DeSantis. For questions or comments regarding the
Governor.
You may also email the ... An online telephone
and email directory
for State Government agencies and employees in Florida.
Contact Us - Florida Department of State
dos.myflorida.com
› contact-us
If
you do not want your email
address
released in response to a public records request, do not send
electronic mail to this entity. Instead, contact this office
by ...
Addresses, Phone Number and E-mail of State Governors - SMU
p2.smu.edu
› rhalperi › governors
Executive
Office
Building, Pago Pago, AS 96799 phone:011/684/
633-4116. Arizona Governor
Doug Ducey State Capitol West Wing 1700 W. Washington, 9th
Fl ...
Governors' Office Addresses and Websites - National ...
www.nga.org
› governors › addresses
Florida.
Office
of Governor
Ron DeSantis. PL 05 The Capitol 400 South Monroe Street
Tallahassee, FL
32399-0001. Phone:
850/488-7146. Fax: 850/487-0801
Office of the Governor of Florida - Ballotpedia
ballotpedia.org
› Governor_of_Florida
Other
Florida
Executive Offices
... There is no lifetime limit on the number
of times he or she may be elected, but a governor
who has been elected to two ...
The
COVID-19 Call Center is available 24/7
1 (866) 779-6121 | COVID-19@flhealth.gov
For Important Updates Text FLCOVID19 to 888-777
1 (866) 779-6121 | COVID-19@flhealth.gov
For Important Updates Text FLCOVID19 to 888-777
Contact Governor DeSantis
Office
of Governor Ron DeSantis
State of Florida
The Capitol
400 S. Monroe St.
Tallahassee, FL 32399-0001
State of Florida
The Capitol
400 S. Monroe St.
Tallahassee, FL 32399-0001
(850)
717-9337
For
more immediate service, please include email address with your
letter or phone call. If you do not want your e-mail address
released in response to a public records request, do not send
electronic mail to this entity. Instead, contact this office by
phone or in writing.
To
submit specific requests:
Comments
are closed.
Jun
7, 2020 11:00 PM – Jun 14,
2020 10:00 PM
|
If
I cannot find an open state to move to and get out of here, then I
will just live in my car for the rest of the year, until
I can get to either a South Pacific island or down to some place in
South America that hates the American ways such as Americana, or some
similar place. If I don't escape this
prick next door to me, HE WILL KILL
ME, and the FBI and the WC at the
Hague, and no one else gives a rotten fucking shit, or
even believes one word that I say; so screw all of
you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
internet scum bags won't let me post the daily DOW JONES chart, to
prove my ICPE-APE-TECH WOES, so let me tell you that in the morning
it was indeed lower than yesterday's close, and then POOF, they
persecuted me and AGAIN, they got a nice big JUMP on the day. This is
what I have to suffer through day after day after day after day until
I can either die or escape this HORRIBLE EVIL EMPIRE!!!!! Trying to
copy a chart crashed my program just as it used to do years ago, and
I have had to call this new blog CHAPTER 7-8-9.
This
scum bag is going to blast his music now at me all day long, and
there is nothing that I can do about it.
THE
END!
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