BTAT--CHAPTER 0035

BTAT—CHAPTER 0035 Electrical number, Monday, February 27, 2023 BEGIN TRANSMISSION TIME: 11:55 A.M.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This blog will discuss a few tiny things, and no longer will I use curse words whatsoever, so I'll be able once and for all to tell if this nonsensical “sensitive-content” jazz that blogger dot com is endlessly hitting and bruising me with since last freaking October, still goes onto happening, and if so, then I'll know it is cursing as well as other spoken stuff. I just unplugged the internet plug from my Comcast modem box, as twice I am typing and the computer just stopped working until I clicked the mouse, so let's see if this stops that whittle darn butt wiping persecution. The system is so-far working much better, less junky keyboard and mouse problems and the freezing trick has also quit. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Sir Chester Frank. I am hoping my recycle stuff gets picked up soon, as the regular trash pickup seems to now be on both Monday's as well as Thursday's, but so far the recycle pick up has gone two weeks uncollected here at this co-op park in northern Fort Pierce. If that was my biggest problem in life however, as I used to say to Sir Steve McGinty back in 1977 at the print shop in Westville, New Jersey-USA-ESMWG; “I'd have it made in the shade with my pink lemonade. I originally had heard that upon several occasions from my mom's old boyfriend, Sir Sidney Cohen-Crown, and 1969 and into 1970 were when he said it quite often, oh you silwee ole' whaaaaaaaaaaabit, you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have plugged back in and learned that my McAfee Programs were operating and had run a scan and found that I need to delete lots of unused files and cookies so as to improve memory space and accelerate operations of the computer, and that this was causing my two freezes. How I love it when mortal rational world explanations for stuff is what causes my woes, ands naught other more esoteric junk, Mizz lovely Blake, and mahm', we all know that there simply are no rational world explanations for that 1983 magically getting onto my telephone line that had been totally disconnected by you guys at the AT&T on that early day in May that started most of my wild stuff that I am still living through all the way up here in the ending days of month number two in the year of 2023. But the first point up for today's whittle discussion here great folks out there in Cyberville is simply Thisssssssss, oh lovely Mizz Lucci-Snakes, and also from that fantastically outlandish and quite illustrious year of glittering-1983, huh Pink Goddess-Merr???????????????? So on with all sensitive issues, Frank's, and frankincense oils from the days of antiquity. We will begin with a topic that I introduced recently and was previously discussed on older Morianity-blogging texts from a decade and more gone by; the great psychic and world renown, JULIA, right there on the Black Horse Pike, in West Atlantic City, or maybe it is part of Chelsea Heights. I am not the local tax man with an up to date tax map, so I simply am not sure, but all the locals to this area know of the famous psychic, lovely Mizz Julia, or they did, all throughout the second half of the prior 20th century. One night while I was at her 'joint' there Mister Steve Winn, as your peeps used that term with me in sarcasm one day at your great all powerful casino-hotel called the Golden Nugget, once situated on Brighten Avenue in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG. Yes one night at Julia's place, I told her all about my mess with SARAH, right down to the chain dream of 1969, the whole smack with nothing whatsoever left out of the story. She looked over at me and told me that “I need to understand how to become a being”. I just looked somewhat flabbergasted at her, or I suppose this was the approximate facial expression that I was wearing at the time, folks. Only this very year, 2023, did I suddenly one day quite recently, put together that statement made by 'psychic-Julian-Pike JULIA', and the Morianity BOM-blog project, and its main topic of seemingly and virtually ENDLESS discussion, TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, and Exploratronics in general. Julia went on and on and talked in some wild riddles that were in those times, absolutely incomprehensible for me to fully conceive of, as I didn't yet fully realize Exploratronic-Activity, nor the entire subject that is centering all around it, and has been ever since intelligent life began happening here on this EARTH-PLANET. But what was being said to me, at least in my humble opinion (IMHO) to quote the somewhat often used and once more famous internet expression for admitting that nobody here on Earth is God Almighty; was way more gigantic and hyper-time non-Sanders-HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE than anything possibly I may have merely thought she had meant to tell me behind these once words of seeming gibberish. In addition, and I may decide to fully tie this in on later following blogs, or I may naught Mizz phone company Blake, at my discretion; I can make an unfathomable connection to a few things spoken by the illustrious Mister Donald John Trump, back when he originally was running for the office of the President of the United States, and he was on some stage, and he was speaking to a bunch of peeps in the audience as well as answering questions being posted to him by narrators of the show, and this was the time where he was calling McCain the great war hero, “A LOSER BECAUSE HE GOT CAPTURED”, and made a splash like a tidal wave, yet still got elected, as in magic power times a quadrillion, making many of my Mountainpen-points simultaneously. He said some stuff about things up in Atlantic City that all tie into stuff from this night in the early autumn of 1997 while I was residing in what I now r e fer to as my SOMERDALE-DEATH-HOUSE, at 112 Harvard Avenue on the corner of Yale and Harvard Avenues. I am not going to get into this entire ugly mess from Dogtown on this blog, as we would be embarking then on an all day typing and reading project that simply put, just is not necessary at this exact moment in human chronology, and AKA “This point in time, Senator Watergate Noncrook Nixon”. We are only concerning ourselves on this chapter-0035-Beyond Tweeting Alphabet Twenty-twenty-two-chapter blogs, with thisssssss, oh lovely Mizz Susan Erica Lucci Cane from the awesome great and wonderful “All My 1983 Children” television-soap show. Simply, what psychic-Julia told me on this night in 1997, at her place on the Julian-Horse Pike in or just south of the world renown playground of the world and AKA Atlantic City-New Jersey-ESMWG, while I was suffering a near-insanity oppressive nightmare situation with what I soon afterward refered to as, my fantastic search and quest to locate the great Sarah Krassle of 1969, in league with what happened fifteen minutes after I left her place that night around half past seven, as well as what I came to understand as the following 20 years kept whizzing all around me along with the great Eagles and naught the great Philadelphia football team, pertaining to EXPLORATRONICS; is a story more fantastic than any other event on this planet other than one day in Jerusalem when the Almighty SINGULARITY who DNA'd into human form through our family's bloodline system, did for the sins of human beings here allowing for the eternal salvation of anyone willing to accept HIM into their isness of beingness. Other than for this one other event, this is the greatest story, and, to quote Sir 1980 coworker Joseph RPL Sivo'; that ever “WENT DOWN”!!!!!!!!!!!! IPYT. This is because in a wild jumbled up randomly somehow coded INTENTIONALLY, and I know this without one wee bit of hesitation or doubt today whatsoever, way, this lady JULIA the local area famous psychic was giving me a fully explained grouping of words that my at the time limited mind was able to both hear and put on 'hold' if you will, so as to later on as the following two decades followed, allow me to slowly descramble and come to understand, pertaining to the guessed-guests as PINK GODDESS calls them or did to me anyway in that wild I-CHING soul-trip on PH-day of December of 1996. Before I can go on, at quarter past one this afternoon, my page vanished away and my document closed out for no good reason. I had to open it all up again and retype one last 'unsaved' sentence that thankfully I emmereffing fully remembered, word for word. This time, there IS NO MORTAL WORLD EXPLANATION FOR THAT EVENT,as obviously HALL FAWCES do naught like what the Mountainpen is typing in here. I am now going to go back and AGAIN, UNPLUG my internet modular chord from the Comcast modem system at 21 minutes past one. I HAVE A SNEAKING FREAKING SUSPICION THAT THISSSSSSSS DAY IS GONNA' BE GOING TOTALLY SUPER SUPER SUPER BOTBAR. All is now unplugged and there is simply no way for the SPACEFORCE-MISOE-MISEC SCUM SLIME SUCKING TURD LICKERS TO GET AT ME, naught with my cum-puke-her aniwho, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, ME' BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let us continue on,as for obvious reasons, these death siege persecutions on me are done for ereasons,and a child should ber able to see the reasons here. They don't want these words typed out,posted up publicly, and spoken to the world, even if it is a group of about 70-90 people, with only one admitting to it for all the world to see, Sir C.A. Thank you sir for your long loyalty and interest. On top of this small group of readers-viewers-whatever-Congressman R.A. Sir and ole' pal and singer of me' two country-tunes and other songs between years 1975-1980; most likely at best, half of those people are NON-AGENTS, or ROWES as Morianity has now chosen to label them in nomenclature. Now on with the show, waterworks Callio. The topic of EXPLORATRONICS is major and they do not wish to have me endlessly airing their dirty and Latengrate-Eugene Horowitz Knighted and parked UNDERWEAR, do they world??????????? So do it pweeeeeeeeze, Sir Chester-Frank: “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”. Julia told me how important it is for persons with wild stuff happening in their lives, such as me; to learn to become “A BEING”. Now you all have heard my most recent and absolute latest developed belief concerning the ability to reach the level of TYPE-3-EX from just being an-aware-to-these-truths TYPE-2-EX. She never said it in these words, but a translated meaning from what I now know to be all true and real oh world, and we get that she was telling me that I need to elevate to being a BEING, and a being as she went on then to further describe it, is none other than a T3E. Before I continue on, I need to give two updates for the record and for my Blogaudians as well. First it is now twenty minutes shy of goddessdog two in the afternoon, and I don't think the recycle bin is gonna' get collected today since the trash truck never doubled back to collect it once the regular trash collection was done. Also, ten minutes or so before the hack-off of my OPEN-OFFICE Word Program System happened, my cellphone received a SPAM CALL, I rarely answer any phones where I don't recognize a number or a name on the ID-screen system, and I didn't do it today, and then poof, the crash. So now I no longer believe at least for the most part aniwho, an enemy-employee at the Melody Lane Branch of the SLC Library. You all know that I measure COLLECTIONS OF PERSECUTIONS as way more friggin' proof that it is indeed a harassment against me when otherwise I wouldn't be quite as sure, but when things all mount up on me together and stuff without an easy mortal world rational explanation, well, this is when I KNOW THAT I AM GETTING STRUCK WITH MILITUFORCE-MISOE-MISEC bull spit on steroids!!! Now folks, shall we get back to my EXPLORATRONIS discussion for this BOM-BLOG-CHAPTER 0035. Before we do however, I went out to my recycle bin a second ago to put some recent junk in there from my residence, and there is a smoky smell and a heavy haze that seemingly is emanating from a not too distant locale around me somewhere. I wonder if the news later on this evening will inform me of some fire in or near this part of Fort Pierce, Flowerland-USA? So back now to T3E's, Julia on the Julian road, and maybe after all this siege for the past three or four days now, I may even decide to discuss how Trump fits into it all right down to why he ran for president of the USA back in 2016 and even started his stupid campaign in 2015, and things that he spoke of that connect into all of this junk, and even why I discussed back on numerous blogs way back to the BLOGS OF KING NEBNOOSHOO in the early twenty-teen previous decade, and saying stuff such as he should not only run but even get the job because he knows about many wild things. Why did I then shortly come full circle in my no longer wishing for this to happen, as so many of you out there must by now have been wondering about. All this will have a powerful beginning base foundation built today on the final part of this blog-chapter-35 and by the way, I plan to alter my tactics in my WAR WITH OTAMM-MISOE-MISEC, as I realize that I cannot just do what I want to whenever I want to, naught if I wish to be able to do it easier without all sorts of powerful and invisible stuff fighting me, such as the events all around me today while trying to do this blog and getting somewhat pummeled and reamed by these diseased toilet water lappers on quintessential steroids. Let us quickly just finish up this foundation-laid stuff on this night with Julia not White, nor on the White Horse Pike. Still naught only these things with my daughter just after the turn of this century happened, but also take into consideration peeps out here, please YO, that powerful time for me the very year that Merry was born when I was attempting TO ESCAPE TOM REALE'S HOME IN VENTNOR ON CORNWALL AVENUE, and made it to the Atlantic City Bus Terminal on Arkansas Avenue at those times, and right after I got onto my bus to go home, the girls from the great mighty frightening QUODDY-MOCKER-GANG also got on, and this was the very night following the calendrically LUCKY DICE NUMBER pf seven-come-eleven, and this July 12th in 1970 was when SARAH refered to me for the very final time as, “THAT BOY”, at half past ten P.M. On this night of July 12, 1970, as told on my blogs ever since their darn butt wiping inception in January of the year of 2006, while I was residing at the Mullica Mobile Manor (MMM-non-Bonjovi-Gmail address) at Lot #10 in Mullica, New Jersey, just a mile east of Blue Berryville Hammonton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Great folks out there, the death angel, SIR MORTIMER MORTINO is annoying me with a vigor not seen for quite a while and is off the dials today and recently, YO YO YO YO YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So with or without the murder of Tina Reese or any discussions that may pertain to mob hit men, let us merely see the truth here that I am naught making up this tale about Atlantic City, these Washcloth people, this frightening family despite any comments made on the Crackpots From New Jersey web-page, and on and on!!!!!!!!!!! We will get back to all this and that is a promise, but for right now I need to finish this up and move on with my day. There is a lot of stuff to take care of. Julia told me some things that only after 20 years or more had completely passed by, did I fully see all of it clearly. Rather than even attempting to get really into the spoken jargon or its decoded and translated into more recent-time truths by me the Mountainpen; I need to tell you what occurred after leaving and heading into Atlantic City and down to Tennessee Avenue, and this was 3 or 4 months before that day at McGuire's hellhole bar on the 7th of February in 1997 in the following year, so bare that in mind please folks. All that entire day up through now nearly into the eight PM time range as I had then arrived on Tennessee Avenue, for whatever reason that I had decided to go there after I had left Julia's that evening; things were extremely quiet or as I used to say in those times quite frequently after enjoying a decade of the Next-Generation STAR TREK-TV-Show and their cool Holo-deck, “the hologram around me changed”. I spoke of this on many many many of my life journals back in those days and times, folks. Well, to use those words and phrases again up here in 2023 peeps, “Suddenly the hologram changed completely, going from absolutely calm and quiet even for normal non Huntington-Cursed folks, and bang-pow-'BAM'-Sir Chef Emeril, things went to the full total opposite extreme polarity, and instantly, the very second that I left 10-SC Avenue, and began driving southbound on Atlantic City's famous Pacific Avenue, the hooker and gambling strip as some locals refer to this street as, or did back in the 80 and 90 decades of the previous 20th century. All the way home it got worse and worse anda guy started following me and harassing me when I began driving through Plesantville, and I ended up going into the Galloway Diner eventually when he wouldn't break off the shadowing of me because I saw a large group of police cars in there, officers from Galloway Township. I could go on and on, but I have made my point that things went as bipolar as it gets, even perhaps causing envy to the famous psych peeps of the great 'DSM'. But those exact words spoken to me by psychic-Julia at her home on the B.H. Pike that night in 1996, caused these very same things to shortly follow, as well as JUST AS THIS HARASSMENT ON ME RIGHT NOW FROM DOING THIS BLOG UP HERE IN TIME BY 22 AND ONE HALF YEARS. And anyone out here who cannot or will not see this is the truth, I feel sorrier for freaking you then I do for myself going through this nightmare HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I need to go on and on but if I do, the day will grow far worse and I simply cannot allow thisssssss, oh lovely Erica Cane Snakes, mahm'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! END TRANSMISSION.