'Chapter 12, RUFMB', 1:38 P.M. On 04-16-2023, Sunday afternoon.
I am under a heavy military siege today in the skies. This is not from the regular private jobs that the SPACEFORCE normally uses 2 persecute me. It is actual military aerial vehicles. I have my porch-light airport light warning system on 4 my investigators, even though it most likely will go unnoticed as they R very clever and know how 2 persecute and harass me invisibly and quite covertly and with epitomized stealth. This very same plane has also been used 2 dog me ever since this nightmare and this ICPE-APE-TECH hellishness all got stated against me in middle August of 1986, and many ask me, Y would the military care about screwing with U if this is somehow all casino related and oriented? Well, that is Y-I liked that ADA-pal who helped me all that he was able 2 back in the nineties, Mister Ron Wirtz Senior. He was with the Camden County, New Jersey-USA Prosecutor's Office. He said 2 me the same day he was telling me 2 check in my rear view mirror when I-C a lot of planes screwing with my in my front view windshield while driving along in my car. His exact words I shan't forgot because of the way that he said it so profoundly and accented the final word in his sentence, “Mark, they've got buddies”, meaning, the powerful people who lobby our Washington law makers also can call their pals in the military service and say 2 them, “Go get him good today, YO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And this is what indeed is happening, and whether anyone out there reading my words of utter woe wishes 2 laugh and scoff and mock me or naught, lovely Mizz 1983 Blake!!!!
Now, let us read stuff from nearly a decade ago in conjunction with a whole
lot of our new facts since just the past 48 hours or so now, peeps!!!
“BOY OH BOY OH BOY”, OH GREAT COSMOS, & ALL BILLY'S OF PHASE 4 TOO”
Well Mizz Hollister and her friend Santa Claus, or his doppelganger “look-alike” aniwho, helped my mom and I move from the Russ Thaxton 'Chain Steal/take' Trinitrail Apartments of Oaklyn, New Jersey, over to 1118 Linden Hill Apartments, of Lindenwold, New Jersey, in March of 1975. She also is directly 'quenergy responsible', for my learning and practicing the great Fascitar Ancient Black Art, Huh Steve Pointerplants Earlydinger???????? Well, without delving too deeply into Annie Wilson, her sister, her mama, or her great magic man, or hit record a short while later; I'll merely say that Shirley, Patty's coworker and girl-pal; put me onto this wild medical office just off Grant Avenue, and told me that similar Ron Wirtz Senior, ADA, speech-advice, that even outside of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, ''My answers in this case, to my throat problems, can be found here, just as later, to my SARAH WOES, they can be found, according to the great ADA, out in that lovely mid-western town, also in Pennsylvania. WOW, we're giving you some real ink-fame on this blog, huh William Penn????? Hey, nobody's perfect, huh Bruce?
'Human minds' R known 4 'blank-filling'; ask any shrink!
This specialist had a beautiful young technician who seemed to be one of those who I run into quite often, being me and under my family 'situation', call it whatever you like, saying 'curse', makes me look like a Bruce Goldberg nut; so I'll refrain from wording it as such, YO. In any event folks, before I met this doctor, or her; I spoke with her on the telephone, and in those days, all calls were recorded by me, all residences were bugged up, I was the original Dick Nixon, but a secret about even this is stalking the world. President Nixon did not do this, he just continued a recent legacy in the White House. You see, it was really someone in this great TAWF or THAT-FAMILY, that began this great tape-recording of everything tradition, and a great man who never asked what his country could do for him, but rather, concentrically; what he could do for his country, and he did something; he became our thirty-fifth American President. This is a very wild family from beyond the stars. The closest in-link cousin is McGuire, the man we won't talk too much about, a very deadly and dangerous evil powerful man, who can do things that I have witnessed, that send chills up my mother fucking spine, down in fucking ass Atlantic City, New Jersey, well, now I should say up there, now that I am down here, right my friend, DMC? Loud shouting and doors, wow, what a FOOD PUKE DAY followed by ''one of those NEXT DAYS'', here in this hellish PHA!!!!!
Anyway, we had quite a long talk on the phone, later I met her. Now this is the year of 1984. For a long time my seeing her was blocked from conscious memory, only remembering seeing the doctor and not getting any satisfaction for my extremely mysterious medical condition that persists to this very day, over 30 years of this unknown glandular disorder that came on suddenly at 10:30 PM-EDST, on June 4, 1983; while I was residing at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey. The memory that was lost somehow, came in a wild dream about two weeks ago, around the very same time all of this persecution started re-exploding in my face, after a tiny let-up period. When I got there, I sat down and had a very short wait, a rare occurrence in any medical office in most places anywhere in the USA. I signed in a normal patient-book and sat down, and she walked up to me and told me how she had enjoyed speaking with me a while back, and that she tried calling me before but did not have my PCN. I gave it to her, it was, and I still remember it, as it matched the apartment number I lived at in Robin Hill, number 506. She never called back, and I found out that she had been called back to some other location, when I called to inquire months later, and spoke to another assistant of this specialist. She went onto add that she was not doing this type of work and was back in school. My mother then told me something an entire year later one night over dinner during a heated debate and very strange conversation, while we were living in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, in the early spring time of 1985. I was telling her about these recurring dreams where I was some sales rep manager for some regional area that was not around here, for the S-DAY LAUDER Company, however it really is spelled. She insisted that I couldn't be having these dreams while I stared at her like a mad man most likely, I was extremely pissed off. I remember throwing my entire plate against the wall, filled with oozing gravy from mashed potatoes and gravy and some kind of steak dinner, and I even recall now the vegetable, it was a pile of Fordham Lima Beans. The hacking is heavy, as this blog may disrupt the entire universe for a short time. I may just need a new fucking mouse, so it can always be the more rational explanation. It seems to go on rolls where it won't respond to clicks. Aniwho, the fight was over Connie Chung and you don't need to know more about this rotten whore or something evil that she did in 1978, but my mother and my ex-pal Jim Burr had both vehemently taken her side against me, and then this spun around to my dreams about being manager of this company and how I was traveling city to city and not liking the situation because it involved lying to the government about a major 'something' and I have a major aversion about ending up in federal or any kind of prison. This is when my mom went almost nuts, telling me I cannot be dreaming this, it is just not possible, and there was no rationality for her bizarre nutty fucking ass behavior that seemed to bounce right out of freaking left field. LSS, she insisted this was as wild as my insisting the lab technician at the throat specialist office was only 14 years old and disguised to appear 10 years older, but admitted to me her true age, and that she knows me from a very large city that is further away than can be explained. I said, ''mom, I never ducking told you that'', yet she continued to insist that I had been saying this for months to her. Then she broke into a powerful angry diatribe over how her coworker Shirley did me a favor, and I am being difficult, insisting this other nurse or whatever she really was, had told me this over the phone, remember all shit was bugged back then. After she had cleaned up the kitchen mess disaster done at that time intentionally by me in a fit of total fucking rage; she said, ''Mark, I know how you can prove me wrong, don't you tape everything, let me hear some of your tapes, knowing you, you probably had one of those tiny recorders in your pocket at the doctor's office that day''. I got so angry again, I remember shoving the dining room table completely over, grabbing a lamp and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and the light bulb to pieces. I said I don't skulk around like that, I only have tapes from the phone, and what I am taping right now of all of this. She then screamed at me and said, ''what did you tape on the phone''? I came back with something along the lines of, ''I'll find some conversations with this 14 year old lab teck and play them for you, just give me a few days, as all my life-journals are in numerical tape, as well as chronological, perfect order. The next night she came back from her job, and she told me Shirley is real mad at me because I caused trouble at the laboratory. I then was ready to literally punch my mom's lights out. I calmed myself down, and said to her, ''shut fucking up and listen to this tape where I tell this very teck over the phone last year, that my condition has certain symptoms and how I try to manage and play with doses of various meds and she eventually gave me driving directions to the place and told me to be there a week from that day''. Then my mom screamed back that, ''Shirley said you couldn't of been there that day next week, the doctor is a personal friend of her father's and they were on some kind of a convention-vacation somewhere together''. I then threw our last remaining lamp that was not just there for show and unbroken, hard, onto the floor, shattering it to pieces, and I screamed that ''she and Shirley are nuts and to go to fucking hell''. When I went off to my security job that night, and 555555555555-555555555555-555555555-55555555555555-555555555-55555555-compensates for another fucking JANE WITCHBITCH ATTACK WITH PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, as this total fucking whore is on a MONSTER ASS NON RECORDED ROLL FOR HURTING ME RECENTLY with these trucking ass ones everywhere, dam ass bitch whore, YO; ANIWHO yo dogs, GETTING BACK TO THE TOPIC HERE; gear shift grind, gear shift grind; what is this early October of oh-eight or late trucking October of thirteen, oh great fuzzy quantum particles of space-time-mind transdimensional quenergies??????????? So I go off to my job at Petty's Island, and come home upset after a night of a lot of coworker problems with real major fucking jerk offs, and the 'shandaleer' in my mother's bedroom had fallen down and had smashed to pieces all over the floor. SUCK MY RUNT EATING PRICK MICROSUCKS SPELL CHECKER, YOU TOTALLY STUPID DUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP; I tried spelling that word in single quotation marks ten ways, and nothing worked, you all know what fucking fell down in early 1985 from my mom's fucking ass bedroom, YO. Even as far back as this, this was the Washcloth Family's way of letting me know to let go of this, and to keep my mouth shut. But it DAWNED on me shortly in the future, that I had included the tape as one of my copyrighted so called accidental flip sides, using the © Office as a time capsule, in all of this, to protect me and vindicate me with all this out of this world shit that just began happening all around me ever since leaving 1802 Robin Hill Apartments of Voorhees, New Jersey, my first of three times residing in these apartments, to move to the Atco home, on February 1, 1983; and on that same day, open up the box containing the Privecode Machine, from the IMM Corporation with the so-called alien-guts inside, as was told to me by a pal of my ex-business partner, PP, while we all were in a local country bar, now burned down since that time, along with many other great history markers. Good old fire, certain things are greater constants than the speed of trucking light, folks, I will argue that with anyone of you, now, later, or ever, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! If you think this story stops here, you are dead wrong. The dream from two weeks ago included some family members and they told me I was an asshole for not remembering, that they did not make me forget any of this. This is what was spoken to me in this wild dream that I did not dare to talk about for fear of the hell I'd be put through, and that hell came around all over me, anyway, it seemingly did not mucking matter whether I'd kept my mouth shut or not, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Then they showed me a photograph of the medical office and me sitting in the very same light green colored chair, they were recording it all along, whoever this washcloth family really is. I thought that I would get a stroke right in ''the dream''. The lab teck was a very young high school girl, the great Mariah Carey, only then, she was a girl in a long island school, and that was it. Still, I know for a fact, that she has other great disguises to this very day, one in particular that I have seen her in, but if I spill the beans, I know she'll come over here and kick the trucking crap out of me personally, and that we don't need, so I won't say more, other than, I know Resorts Hotel of Atlantic City knows, as they saw it all go down that day, in real time; or maybe that was distant cousin Trump's Plaza; the more I think of it. If my memories did not fuzz out a bit, I would be totally trucking nuts after all the shit this entire family, and all its extended wild branches, have pulled now; for 30-60 years. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten off that jitney bus that day, at the grammar school, on Richland Avenue, in South Atlantic City; Dad!!! SOOOOOOOOOOO THERE, Mister Arthur Crane SIR: ARE U OUT THERE SHIRLEY 'MAGICTELLY' OF THE TILLY'S???????????????????
Now whether or naught this all is totally STINKING TO DOGTOWN BRIDGE & BACK AGAIN 2 LITTLE CUTE DOGGIE-MIDGE; is in the eye of the reader-viewer. Still, I seemingly have been on two main Bruce Goldberg paths now for some decades, and yes, even from time 2 time, switching back in forth, explaining Y sometimes I wake up into my residence where squeaks in water faucets R there and then NO LONGER THERE later on, and marks on walls come and go, and on and on, as these R the major telltale signs of our definitely being SWITCHED OVER from world 2 world after awakening from naps and sleep periods. Still, I do confess 2 a blocked out memory which is not at all like my mind works in the long range term of many years, when it comes 2 that trip 2 that doctor's office that is now called by Mountainpen, the magical Shirley Laboratory, or just 4 short, the MSL. When a memory fuzzes out that we know only 2 well should not B, it is normally a transdimensional switching that's causing this phenomenon, wild as this may sound 2 any of U. Since the SPACEFORCE wishes 2 screw with me, I will tell U all this much today, whoever any of U may twuwee B, Mister Fwudddd Metsker of Rossmoor North Jersey Communities. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! I know 4 absolute positive although unable of course 2 prove this in a court of law; the authorities in America and maybe this has caught in all over other non 3rd-world nations of social order and legalistic systems, and in connection and absolute conjunction with the new age PC (Political Correctness) system starting when the 1980's terminated; used 2 fully control populations a whole lot better than B4 this unholy cow shit was ever implemented. It means none of us one bit of good, and if allowed 2 continue going unchecked 4 much more than another decade, freedom as we all think we know this word 2 mean, WILL B OUT THE WINDOW. Take that as a pure 100% guarantee, peeps!!!!!!!
THIS TRANSMISSION ENDS @ 2:10 Sunday afternoon, 16 April, 2023, & I AM NOW SUPER HIGH CCOT.
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