The Continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment": Holy Callio-COW-LEO-Holly Hollister-HH-Call-Ten

Holy Callio-COW-LEO-Holly Hollister HH call-ten

Holy Holly Hollister for crying out loud. My mom would go thermo-nuclear back at apartment # 1802, and those days in the very early eighties when I would keep calling Patty, 'Patty Hollister'. She had a real short fuse for reasons only known by her. She would mention something about her, and then I would correct her, and repeat the name of HOLLISTER; and she would flip out, and so I would begin to make her crazy, or as they would word it today in these new times, I would really push her buttons. But my mom, and her buttons, had reasons. We all have reasons why we are so goddamn sensitive to things, and the largest reason for most of us is when we don’t want someone to get onto something that is being covered up by them, so as to prevent you from learning or understanding something. So why did both Patty herself and my mother, conspire to keep my daughter from me? I’ve given a few good reasons but never talked about something that Mister SWAP said a long while back after we had only known each other for about half a year. I won’t be tackling this today other than for a quick opening. You heard me say my immature nature was one reason, but think about it. Would someone deny a person knowledge of their own damn daughter just because of that, for crissake? The answer pretty much should be no. But he has a really good idea for why this was all done to me, and if he is right, I would have to unlearn a lot of lucking slit, and then be willing to relearn major new skit about my entire family. We can go here later on Mister Rockford Filespunch, oh Sir. Still, 1969, the holy-holly non-Hollister song, the whole damn smack, what is it truly all about; and can we even dream somehow someday of getting 2 the bottom of all of the many YYYYYYY’s??????? So how can we ignore Sir 1969 Russ Thaxton, and his connections with the great “L&O”-TV-show Detective Olivia Benson and her father Joe Hollister, along with this stuff, Mister Car Salesman Gagnus of Philadelphia? None of that trucking bullskit, Bob Gagnus Sir. Then all these ducking damn death siege parallel events that never ever quit, as in James Tiberius Burr and his great 1976 Bicentennial year ‘CONTINUE SYNDROME’ of endlessness, for eating hot slit and crying out louder than Dogtown. We have the pre-Gulf Wars military operations known as the Dark Shadows/Donna Summer initials, both of them, not even allowing a small doubt of ‘coincidentalness’ here, called DESERT SHIELD followed shortly thereafter by DESERT STORM. More recently we have the McCarthy vote. Then even more recently we just had the debt ceiling problems and wo-whiz-me’s. How can anyone out here tell me with a straight trucking poker face that I am imagining all of this for 40 years, YO YO YO YO YO YO ME’ BRAHHHH!!! It is 2:00 now and my blog word count shows 6,847 words; and I’ve told you nothing yet, so let’s get to it peeps!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAA-BIT Metsker and Fwuuuud! Eight million divided by nine thousand, equals a rounded up-off '889'. This is the approximate number of years of a minnina-kalpa of astral interaction. This is an average based on the way interactions may cause time to feel if back on a mortal plane of physical existence. Astrally, it is one and the same thing. We think it, and it is. That is just the way the purgatory is, and yes; it is not some instantaneous causing of effects to then go on and happen. It is the same thing. In energy, the thinking itself SIMPLY IS THE REALITY. So averaging all possible type of events and one MK is what 889 years of ‘averaged all-possibilities’ of things in human life, feels like to us. My original 14-MK sentence shows the age that I died as Kane by applying these mathematical THINGS IN ORDER, AND EVEN THOUGH THERE IS IN TRUTH, NO ORDER, 13,200 minus 89 years is 13,111 at the time of my jealous rage fit and the murder of me’ brother Abel. 14 MK = 889.14 = 12,446 years, so then 12,446 minus 13,111 equals 665 years. 665 plus 89 equals 754 years. I died as Kane at the age of 754, in the ‘Biblical Nodian’ territories. So to keep with the verbiage of those times, I fell asleep with my fathers at the age of 754 years, roughly at age 94 and one quarter years when converted into today’s modern day lifetime spans and the division of eight. 94 and one quarter years was the precise length of life that Sara J. Karge lived, born in Trenton, NJUSAESMWG on July 18^th of 1896, and died wherever she did, in early October of 1990. Another coincidence that I find 2B a real “Raspberry Dreams” deal, kind of impossible 2 ignore in other words, YO WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!! So just how exactly did all of this happen, and for that matter since it is quite all connected here in round about ways, how do anyone of us end up getting on the SHAGPEL LIST? This is a pronunciation of SHAdow Government Persecution List, by the way. Well, we all have heard of the alien-contact thing where it is either of the first kind, or the second kind, or the third kind, and so forth. I of course am at what they would refer to and think of as the first, since they know fully well that LIGHTNING, an alien being to say the least, and we live together and we always have and always will, in the great Purgatory, in the Ricktown manor on Astral Highway #9910 in Ricktown, and in the capitol province of Olympia. Actually we do not live, we EXIST. It simply is, and until and unless enlightened to real truth while in physical form, this makes no sense at all 2U. But the main way to get on the SHAGPEL is simply through no fault of your own at least in most cases folks. If you are made contact with, that’s it, to quote lovely Cooley Hall Amy-Louise C here, me’ ole’ classmate from the very early 1970’s, “It’s curtains closing the show time”! My ducking computer crashed again. This is now the third time between two computers here today, and the persecution on me is the talk of the entire library here, so this slit is getting exposed, and this problem is going to be told to the 'IT' techies here soon by library staff. They know something is wrong and don’t know what to mucking bunt do about it, other than get the techies on it. Still, look at what I was typing and discussing when it happened again, the shadow government, and what they do to peeps like me; and then POW-POOF, out it goes!!!!!! This is what the lady just said as she saw my SHAGPEL in big bright bold red letters on my blog when I got the program back as it is saved onto the flash drive system. I have not been this trucking persecuted EVER IN ALL THE TIME I HAVE BLOGGED HERE NOW, SINCE BUNT TAPPING SEPTEMBER OF LAST MOTHER MUCKING YEAR!!!!!!!!!!! It is time 4 a HUUUUUUUUUUUGE counterstrike, a lot of peeps are gonna’ be buying the farm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IPYT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!