MEANT 2 SAY BOTBUR, NOT BOTBAR, ON PREVIOUS BLOG WRITING, SO SORRY WWll JAPANESE AMBASSADORS OUT THERE IN 1941
As the title perfectly implies here peeps, I meant 2 say I was bottom of the barrel unofficially rated and not ALREADY-RATED, another famous MIND-HACKING-ERROR on the poor-pitiful non-Ronstadt-Mountainpen, so WEIN-SOSO-SSDD???!!!! This is the difference between BOTBUR and BOTBAR, and now U hopefully understand these meanings somewhat better, despite my endless mind-hacks from the ever trustworthy scum-hole WOMO-SPACEFORCE SPAMMENIES.
9:00 PM, Friday, January 5, 2024
Almost every other time now, I get that old and extremely flucking annoying inability 2 make underlines HACK!!!!!!!! It just happened 2 me again. YES, I PLAYED ROULETTE TODAY, AND MADE 8-UNITS OF PROFIT, so WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE and yes Chester-Frank, and Katy-Pee, also absolutely WEEEEEEEEDEEEEEEEKAWUSS, yes sir and mah'm if I do need 2 emphatically proclaim that me'self!!!!!!!! As I said, when I get that feeling, and hear that voice 2-B extremely cautious and careful; the Mountainpen always obeys these premonitions, and quits while being ahead, preventing my going straight into major BOTBAR. Being BOTBUR is always bad enough and 6 out of 7 times it does go all the way from the 'U' vowel into the 'A' vowel. I won on spin number 4, and Win Values on the number-5-multiple seven numbers of play is (+29) units. Lose Values on this 5-multiples number grouping is (-7) units. So -7 times 3 equals -21 units and the +29 times 1 equals +29, so 29 minus 21 is (+8) units. The DEATH FLUCKING ANGEL IS ON ME LIKE ALL GET THE CHRIST OUT OF DOGTOWN, and has been 4 quite some time most days now, and today is plucking goddessdog total damn MURDER, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!
MOUNTAINPEN'S LUNAR CALENDAR:
FRIDAY, JANUARY 5, 2024---JWSC-WED-12-16
CURRENT PHASE IS: WANING CRESCENT 2:7
N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
WANING CRESCENT------(W-N-C)
WANING GIBBOUS--------(W-N-G)
WAXING CRESCENT------(W-X-C)
WAXING GIBBOUS---------(W-X-G)
MMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesoniCCCCCCCCCCCCCC
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 WOMO-SPACEFORCE SUBSKUMMITE ENEMIES, whom are VICIOUSLY PERSECUTING ME ON THE 5th DAY IN JANUARY OF THE YEAR 2024, WITH A FULL BARRAGE OF MULTIPLEXED PERSECUTION'S AS FOLLOWS: AERIAL DEATH SIEGES, NOISE ASSAULTS, HEALTH ASSAULTS ON MY BOWELS WITH HAVANA DEATH WEAPONRY, COMPUTER HACKING, WEIRD STUFF THAT COMES FROM OUT OF ORDINARY REALITY, AND NUMEROUS HARASSING ITEMS NOT ALL LISTED HERE, AND ALL OTHER CONCEIVABLE HELLISHNESS THAT THESE MONSTERS HAVE BEEN PERPETRATING UPON ME SINCE THIS ALL BEGAN, AND THAT FIT EXACT PERFECT PATTERNS WITHOUT FAIL, AND R DONE WITH SOME AGENDA AND MOTIVE, THAT ENDLESSLY BLESSES THEM AND THEIR LIVES AND THEIR GOALS; AND WHICH IS ALL DIRECTLY A PART OF THE ICPE-APE-TECH-ASSAULT ON ME, THAT BEGAN ON THE EXACT DATE OF THE MORNING OF 15 AUGUST, IN THE YEAR OF 1986; and 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 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 a CRUSH DESTRUCT-SINGE DESTRUCT-TOTAL DESTRUCT—DESTRUCT ORDER, and 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.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
GO TO G-189, G-9173, under G-1133, CG-18, AND
S--------T--------O--------P.
VERY SOON, WE WILL TAKE DREAMS AND DREAMING AND THE ADVANCED SECTIONS OF MORIANITY DISCOURSE LESSONS INTO THEIR FINAL STAGE OF BEYOND MIND BLOWING JUNK THAT IF EVER TAKEN SERIOUSLY AND DONE BY THOSE READING THESE WORDS, THIS PLANET WILL CHANGE PRACTICALLY OVERNIGHT, YO!!!!!!!
Those who already know about randoms and influencing them with quantitative dynamics and related methodologies, as well as the early 3rd millennium and stuff like BIBLE-CODE, and other related items; indeed know how powerful stuff that I have done ever since 1983, and leaving 1802 Robin Hill, 4 Atco, NJUSAESMWG one day, on 02/01/1983, and 2 move into the rented home owned by real estate investor Mister Jerald Pliner; truly is. The only problem is that eventually U won't B able 2 resist ultimate mental channeling, and taken 2 levels that I took it 2 can and most likely does cause damage and interrupts normal mental behaviors of the human brain here while existing in human and physical life. I know, as I have become a channeled person, and as we age into 60 and 70 year decades of our lives, it does indeed become nearly impossible 2 not B what I have labeled as “mind-hacked” by these powerful out of this world HALLS FAWCES from the Purgatorial timelessness, (ASTRAL PLANE)!!!!!!!!!!!! Really smart computer geek types out here know what is truly being said and told here now by me. Connecting our selves up into a permanent channel with other-worldly forces is not only possible but life altering, and I should know. These level-8 and level-9 Purgatites, the coins and the coils, THE GODS, will allow us 2 slowly connect into them and it always has 2-B done their way and on their terms. Again, I know and speak from a very personal decades long experience now as 9 more years will make a whole goddessdog half century of human world time 4 me now with all of thistlethorns of Mike Soft, and all of thissssssssssss as well; lovely Erica Luccisnakes, mah'm. It is as simple as that, only telling it all down and dirty and complete will require ten Tolstoy sized books, let me assure U all of THAT, y-O!!!!!!!!! Oh that never 2-B lost y-O-HACK, great peeps aldare, YO!!!!!!!
HOLDING AT BOTBAR AT 3 PM ON FRIDAY, 1-5-2024
01:40 PM, Friday afternoon, January 5, 2024
This has been a bad day and is holding at bottom of the barrel unofficially rated as of just shortly after three of the clock on this mildly rotten Friday damn disafsternoon, and is filled with a lot of annoying hellishness since it began when I woke up at around 02:40 this goddessdog photo removal club of Mizz Blake teases from 1983 and onto infinity or so it seems 2 me sometimes YO, on this Friday afternoon of the 5th day in this 1st month of the year of 2024, and I am not handing the scum-hole OTAMMITE enemies a full out BOTBAR; not quite yet YO BRAHHHHHHH. I just realized that I am writing the '3' hour when I mean 2-B putting in the '1' hour, as it is now exactly 1:48 PM, and 3:00 is over an hour away still. All sorts of weird things have started happening with me now since right shy of the time that I began blogging my 2nd blog of this goddessdog day, YO!!!!!!!! First, there was some weird crap with my electronic equipment that never should have happened, and again right now when trying 2 make a spelling correction added-2-dictionary in my word program, and it came out as if I had right clicked over an okay word not underlined, two times and then on the 3rd try it acted normally and allowed me 2 make the correction. So far today, it has been lots of damn noise, health and bowel assaults, difficulties in getting some medical junk taken care of with several agents and systems, some weirdness even 4 the Mountainpen, and endless smaller annoyances that we all can of course depend on most of the time, so Y even bother 2 make any lists? I played a roulette game using the numbers that on these type of days with scattered multiplexed persecutions and either BOTBAR or close 2 it at BOTBUR, the 5 multiple numbers R the hottest 4 my playing them, and I won on the 4th spin and quit with an 8-UNIT profit. HERE COMES MY DOG COMPUTER HACKING, RIGHT ON FLUCKING CUE, WORLD OUT THERE, AT 01:54 PM; AND ANOTHER NASTY DIRTY GLASS ROTTEN STINKING CIVIL RIGHTS VIOLATING (SMALL-BOX)-HACK, YO!!!!!!! This brand new hack in 2023, just came out of the mother ******* true blue Amy Cooley queen of material worlds; and this is the same computer that I have had and used ever since purchasing it late in the year of 2010, over at the Fort Pierce Walmart Store, with my coworker, sir Clay Coins. So then me' glass shoal mother trucking point here is indeed quite simple. If this is not a HACK, Y all of a sudden is this happening?????????? Stop handing me that 'mommy-dearest' annoying “It's an old car-----syndrome” either; as items getting older is one thing, but it does not automatically explain how suddenly weird annoying junk starts happening out of absolutely goddamn nowhere, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes peeps; I knew that I would win quickly with one of the 7 multiples of number 5 on my APE-ROULETTE, and I did; and even though many would scoff at my walking away with an 8 unit profit, my response right back at anyone out here is simple: “IT SURE BEATS THE DAMNED DOGTOWN OUT OF AN 8-UNIT LOSS”!!!!!!!! Folks, I wanted 2-B sure I could win my game today, and I heard that 'LITTLE DAMN VOICE' inside of me telling me that if I wasn't gonna' B satisfied with that nice quick tiny wee tad bit of non-Patty Hollister profit, then it would possibly B a real super BOTBAR disastrous day 4 me today; and I was naught gonna' take the chance of my little inner-voice being right!!!!
One year is no different than another one, just as months and days and weeks and hours all R no different 4 me, naught when all the crap is all averaged out. It all fits into this brand new and EVER SINCE 15 AUGUST OF 1986 pattern of quintessential mysterious endless unexplainable intrigue and supernatural nonsense, and yet, I know it is all totally completely real, and I also know that most of the peeps who come 2 know about me and me' life, also do as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes folks, I admit 2 seemingly having this annoying habit of acting like new times R really new as in nothing like this has ever been, when in actual truth, all I need 2 do 2-C the error of me' goddessdog ways and total fallibility of my thoughts with this, is 2 archive and study me' own blogging works just since back exactly 18 damn glass years ago now in the year of 2006. Another super annoying recently new additional hack on me is the key strike right 2 the left of the (') key, the (;) key. The blogs over the past half year or more R seemingly suddenly filled with that annoying plucking goddamn deal of when I say so often 4 example, “I had a bad time over there, and even me'; hat blew off me'; head in the wind”. Yes great Treasure Coast International Airport peeps who watch me and me' air-lights porch system when they sporadically drive through the place, and with the permission of the co-op officers, and U will C my warning air-porch lights on both front and rear, most likely now I will leave them on 4 several days and nights maybe even a week or more, as this aireal shullbit is beyond a major hellish annoyance, and sooner or later, some stick head futhermucker will crash into something and then perhaps the local media in Palm Beach will pick up my entire story and this blog will go super goddessdog viral overnight all around the entire pwanet, oh Mister Elmer Wabbit Warner Bwothers Fwuuuuuuuud!!!!!!!! JEEZ-LOUISE.
Oh by gosh by golly, forget holly and kissing bushes; this is so dead grass serious, there are no words; Auntie Dearest!
MARCH 9, 2014,
SUNDAY MORNING AT 3:08,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 58 DEGREES FNHT.
Journal cassette tape number 25,734 equivalent
I had a nice eight hours of 'sleep' or close to it, something very rare for me now in my old bunt tapping age, folks. I was a regular normal TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, as we all are unless practicing an unusual set of mental exercises, which are to go to sleep and set the alarm for about two thirds to three quarters of the time that you normally sleep, say if you are a six hour sleeper, setting it for four hours. You get up just long enough to perhaps grab a half glass of water and take a leak. But before you even fall back into bed, you mentally 'day-dream' on a place that you wish you were, this could be anything from on some vacation to just being at the residence of anyone in this world you would want to be for any possible reason. It could be your teacher, your preacher, your grand parents place in the country, or the home of Elvis Presley when he was a young man. “The possibilities”, to quote lovely Elizabeth Montgomery, back in that sixties show on TV, called Bewitched, “are endless”. Do not think about one other thing other than this, and within one minute you will be back asleep, only you will be awake in your doppelganger self in some parallel universe, where indeed, due to the mathematical immensity of the fifth dimension, you will be there, because you in this alternate reality, are there. The second you are there, you need to take command and tell yourself, I just did this, hay that buttwipe Mountainpen is no fake phony grassmole, this works; so let me do the next thing he says. That would be to say to yourself, “I really am here, and now I can choose to take over my other self, and become a true transdimensional somnambulist”. Sleep walkers are nothing more than TYPE-2-EXPLORATRON travelers, in the stage of experimentation, invisible to you as you are in the same reality as the one asleep and walking, but inside that sleepwalker, is their double from another dimension in the multiverse, in the D-5 or FIFTH DIMENSION. I was only a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, but am planning on telling a powerful story, as we begin the opening minutes of DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME, HERE IN AMERICA; and my own stupid invention, from a long time ago.
Recently, the temperatures here have been heavenly, less than eighty with nice dropping overnight breaks from any heat. This won't last much longer so I am sucking it all up while I can like a dry sponge striking a universe of ocean. I fell asleep around just past two yesterday afternoon, Saturday, and slept until just past ten last night. Somewhere towards the end of the period, I was inside of powerful vivid dreaming interactions. I knew it, but had no control, as I did not take the normal steps of mental exercise to allow for this brain to Mind-Realm connection circuitry, to make this all operate in this mode. Just why it does, by the way, don't ask me, just know that I know, that indeed folks, it does. So I had no control, but I was in a very vivid situation, powerless to make my doppelganger do anything, hence, it was doing what it wanted to do, in this particular world reality. I was traveling a lot, and unlike the days of the early and middle eighties, in the parallel universe where I was employed as some traveling promotion agent for the S-DAY-LAUDER peeps, I am spelling it as it sounds and have no idea how it is properly spelled; but unlike with this, I was not any kind of sales rep or anything remotely connected to this kind of situation, and fully know that, as my double fully knew quite naturally, what he was doing in his life, and I was just along for the ride, for lack of a better way of saying it. I was in a large restaurant and everyone was filing out for some reason, and I was suddenly there by myself, possibly as the guard, as I have done a lot of this type of work here in this universe, but in cosmic fifth dimensional truth, that really is totally meaningless, as we all have universes where we all have done every possible thing, and been every possible one of us; and have interacted with every possible one of us, in every possible relationship. This seems beyond inconceivable, but that is only because numbers like one times ten to the power of a quadrillion are so beyond the reach of your mind, and this is a pin head amount of the total of these universes next to the real total amount of them in all of the entire multiverse or the hyperspace. Anyway, my Aunt Geraldine Snow was suddenly there, and after a while, I knew that this was not my aunt, and just as I realized this, in walked my parents who I totally knew in this universe, were not my parents. Then five people ranging in age from 12 to 30 for a best guess on my part, also were coming into this place, and they all seated themselves around a very large square table with a red and white tablecloth with checkerboard type pattern, and then blue stars were inside many of the multiple squares. I suddenly looked up and I observed a sign on the wall, and it said, THE RED WHITE AND BLUE LODGE. Later I came to learn that this was a mountain retreat for skiers, and that this family, of which I was no part of there, appeared to be the owners of this quite large and quite gorgeous establishment. They saw me sitting at a table across from them and totally ignored me, so I pretended to have a stroke, and grabbed my head and fell down off of my chair. Instead of helping me however, the two older guys who might have been my brothers only they were not in this parallel reality, began mercilessly kicking me in the head and ribs. They had sneakers on and even though blood was pouring from me, I was not mortally wounded, but I found myself tied up in the back room after going unconscious. My Aunt Geraldine Snow who was not my Aunt over there, told them to all leave the room. She then proceeded to ask me who I was and why I am there, and why I faked having a stroke. I was still bleeding and told her if someone would call for medical help, and let me have a wet cloth to hold on my messed up face following my beating; that I would then tell her what I was able to. With that she punched me real hard right smack on top of my shoulder, then took off her shoe and began to beat me on the top of my head with it. While the beating was going on, someone from inside the main area hollered out, ”turn on the damn grass music, so that we don't have to hear the flick yelling so much”. Suddenly I could hear the word 'MY' and then a really loud drumbeat, and then the song that I wrote back in early August of 1986, called, “Real Good Girl”, began playing on a powerful system. I heard my own rotten voice singing it, and the powerful loud crashing of the cymbals and the loud drum like sounds from numerous fake things that made those sounds, right down to me pounding my fists hard on the floor of my landlord's home in Cherry Hill, at 1931 Route 70, AKA the Marlton Pike, East. After the song was over, I noticed that another sign was hanging in the room that I was in, saying, CONGRATS TO THE GRADUATES OF CHELTENHAM HIGH. For those who just may remember from blogs around 2010, I had a powerful interaction about my cousin Donald, and my cousin Sandy; and part of it was about them telling me to go over to that high school, in Pennsylvania, and just exactly why; I could not, and still cannot; begin to imagine the reason. I have never even been to Cheltenham, Pennsylvania. Two words are in this town's name that are real actual words, if you notice; TEN, and HAM. Biblically, the ten commandments and people refusing to live by them, in the days of Noah, who had a son by the name of HAM, along with Japeth and 'SHEM'; matching the first syllable in the name with one half of the letters, and also being the word of 'HE', and other than for these Babylonian super sleuth clues, Kim Wild Weird-Chords; I do not know what else to say regarding this. What I will tell you, is that, and I know some of you out here have had this happen in your lives so don't bother denying it; but I realized this was a 'dream' that I had in part, on numerous other occasions, not in any serial order, but it was as some call these things, 'recurring dreams'. I always liked that 'L&O' episode where the lawyer Dworkin tells the jury of his recurring dream with going out to work naked, in New York City, how his day started in the subway, then onto the way it continued at work, with Susie, and so forth. Still, I am in this parallel universe a lot, in my present life mind energy as a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON, and for the first time now, as a TYPE-2, and now after I tell you a little bit about this folks; maybe you will understand when I tell you that I definitely plan to go back as a TYPE-3, (T-3-E). Suddenly there was nobody anywhere, not in this room behind the main dining hall, or in the main areas either. Now I found myself walking completely outside and noticing huge snowy mountains, and a huge sign advertising this lodge, and lots of folks all waiting for a ski lift to take them to the top of a ski area. All of a sudden, one of the most awesome beautiful young hunny's that I ever saw in me' entire life, almost a twin of that tall goddess on the old Lizzy McGuire show staring delicious Hillary Duff, back early in this century on the Disney channel or Nick, or whatever. Looks like Microsucks Spellchecker needs some plucking Viagra, not recognizing a commonly used term that I attempted spelling three different ways. Anyway, the girl was like the popular goddess of the school, by the name of KATE. This is very much how this girl appeared, only as tall as Kate was in the show, this giant teen goddess had to be a foot taller, and towered over everybody; and was wearing the most beautiful colored jacket, and had long light brown hair, much like the great Sarah Krassle. She came up to me and began telling me that it won't work, and to leave the place, and she repeated it over and over. My doppelganger just kept saying back to her, not to get involved in it. This is when I turned and found my car, parked and unlocked, keys already in the ignition, in the lot close to the ski lift. I got in and began to drive away, and within ten minutes, this goddess passed me and tried to make me stop my car, and this went on quite a while until I stopped, and she then got into my car after pulling hers over to the side of the road and shutting it off. This is when she told me they are never going to let me know where they hid the 74-WP. I then found myself pulling over and begin discussing this with her. I asked her all sorts of questions, I didn't, but this doppelganger 'other me' was doing it; with me along for the ride. She eventually told me that she could help me get it, but that the price would be for me to sign the papers. After a while, I realized what these papers were. Her father was the owner of some large NASA connected private company that wanted to have the details about Sunram's DE system. She did not seem to even know about these details, only speaking in ways that I was suddenly able to catch on, due to what I knew. Then things changed in some ways that did not pertain to here in my world now where I type this, so I cannot begin to figure it out. She said I had to go to Staten Island, and tell that meddling girlfriend to stop trying to get that lawsuit going. All this other me kept saying is that I had no power to tell her anything, and then she kept telling me that I did indirectly, and that I needed to keep Mister Java Queen out of their affairs. This went on a while, and she then asked me to take her back to her car and I did so. When I drove off, I thought that she had driven the other way and back up the ski resort, but somehow she decided to turn around and again, started chasing me and passing me, and doing all kinds of maneuvers in her vehicle that made me finally pull over again. But this time she then put her car in reverse and came parallel to mine, and a passenger was in there with her, and it was, well, I wanted to say, my Aunt Geraldine Snow, but she is not my Aunt over there. Her window rolled down, and she aimed a large magnum, the same type gun that record promoter Lenny McKinnon pulled on me in the summer time of 1980 in Philadelphia when he insisted that I run a red light near city hall across Broad Street one hot ass afternoon in late July. Then I heard shots, and the left side of my body was on fire. Literally, on fire, not like the expression goes when someone is shot, and it feels like this type of agony. I was on fire, and the car caught fire. This gun shot out something, and it was not like a flame thrower, but more like small tablets that came into my window and just burst into flame. The car began speeding away ahead of me, and I stopped my car and tried to run outside, but the door would not open. I remember the agony of burning and burning, and me screaming for minutes so loudly that I had no voice left. Then like magic, it was just past ten at night, and I was here, and that was over.
However, the eye problem came back once I crossed back over to here. I'll have to get it looked at next week by doctors. There R some weird sounds coming from the hallway in the middle of my sleep time, and I cannot be totally sure which universe it was coming from, nor how it could effect the sound. We all know that the same sound is two different things most of the time, in two universes. I used to be inside of 'dreams' back in 1964, where buzzing birds or machines were doing something around me, and then I would come back to here, and it was my father in the bathroom of the 125-A Haddon Hills apartments, with his electric shaver, shaving himself.
JOURNAL TAPE 25,734 continues onward, L-4. It goes from bad to worse, to worse-even-more, to holy lucking Jesus Christ; so be sitting down for this daily update and report, folks, pweeeeeeeeeze, BRO! I went up on the computer to check my e-mails which I had not done in about 4 days give or take, and had some real weird difficulty with my Comcast Account, where my address is mountainpen@comcast.net. I think your message finally went through, SEABOTTOM, as even though I got only a circle with a red line through it as a response to my hitting the SEND, I also did this on a few other e-mail places, and think they went through, but still cannot be sure, as one was the Copyright Office, and they sent me a confirmation that they did get my note, but I had also left a voicemail on someone's machine on the telephone, so there is no way for me to be positive, either way. Normally I get a flashing quick 'MESSAGE SENT' prompt, but this is not happening, to quote lovely Judge Judy.
UP-UP-UP-UP, FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There are a lot of things I really want to say and tell. If I told, I would be so plucking dead!!!!! Oh sweet mother of Viqueen gangs of the human equivalent Quoddy Mockers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU MISSED ME, MIZZ DIRTWEEDS DISEASESLEAZE JANE!
ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA is a place that from the very beginning, I knew something was very very very wrong, oh lovely beautiful 1984 Ingrid. I just hope someday before all is said and done, whoever is really most responsible for all of my woes from this city of evil and power, can scream out the last words of, I AM REALLY GOING DOWN THE TOILET. Then maybe, some, not all; but some of this shkit will have been worth it, YO!!!!!!!!!!
SO WILL GODDESS GET ME FOR THIS, LADY FROM LONG BEACH ISLAND, WOW; AND IS THERE SUCH A WORD AS PROPHETESS??? IF NOT, DON'T YOU ALL THINK THAT THERE SHOULD FREAKING GAS BE, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO????????????
Yes Terry Egghead Harbors, I am most definitely an imperfect little human being, in total control over the Endless Miseries Club of Planet Earth, but not in control of a whole lot else, mah'm. Sorry about that 1986 Maxwell Smart Chief. Blare those video games at me, brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GREAT FOLKS, YO, I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, ALSO KNOWN AS THE 'BOM', COINCIDENCE YOGI????
Silwee WHAAAAABIT and others; I am here, just as I told the great UNITED STATES © OFFICE, back in dancing McDonald's 1988, with my tune called, ''PROPHET OF NOTHING'', WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! Very few things really change, as it is not things or people that change, merely energy movements rearranging in the vast hyperspace fifth dimensionally. W---O---W!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAHA!!!!!!!!
You go TIGER MARK!
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SUCH A GREAT COSMIC NUMBER, 'STEW' MASON.
HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bobby McDowell of Fort Wayne, Indiana, United States of America, ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My posting of the Jupiter inlet is always coming out blurry, yet on the real website itself, it does not. Another hack given to me by that lovely group of nice fine fellows and lassies, the groovy wonderful 'WOMO-MILITUFAWCE', Huh, Mister Hall????????????????????
For the record and getting on with Thirty-Fourth miraculous clauses, cases, and Patty Hollister's from 1975; permit me UNCLE ON BENT GOZZWALD KNEES HEINZ, to just say this little squib here, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to be TELLING HUGE FRUCKING SECRETS TO PEEPS BEYOND THIS PUNY BLOG VIEWERSHIP. 2020 IS A GOOD TIME TO GET GRIT ALL CLEARED UP, SYMBOLICALLY, BUT WE WON'T BE WAITING THIS LONG; SIR JAMES T. BURR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll start with this quick little one that is not going to cause anyone anywhere even the slightest bit of pain or agony, and is more than true and more than deserved. The Bonjovi peeps told me that my blogs make me sound so angry all the time, and they wonder why???????? THEY WONDER WHY. Well, grab a big mirror and put it in front of you. You are merely the latest group of such nice wonderful peeps, that make me what I am, and cause me to write so many angry words. If you have to really wonder, then you know what?????? This entire world might as well just go right mother ducking back to swinging from tree to tree on nice juicy thick vines. There is no use in me saying another darn plucking word, not now and not here, and not anywhere at all, lovely DZA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEDEEEEEEEKAWUSS.
“BE BLUNT, OR BE IGNORED; A SHAME BUT TRUE”
Even when I am totally in your trucking face and flat out blunt as all knit cubed in Daddy's Cuba, Dawny TPB Terra. They don't hear, Uncle Jesus Carpenter, and great U.S. © Office, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want so bad to be subtle and say a thousand cool things, but nobody gets most of my story when I come out shouting from rooftops, and king-dogs from AC-NJ; with extremely blunt and major controversial statements and facts. I had plans this weekend to see Mikey on the island, but my horrendous toothache put the kibosh on that. The agony was quite intense until last evening after the weekend was over. Too coincidental to be a coincidence, huh Mister Berra-sports, well; I certainly agree with you old pal. No need to ever try twisting my freaking arm. Very sorry folks, it is never really my intention to cause any suffering to innocent people. WOW-THAT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
To function back in the days when this world was transitioning into a totally different animal than ever before, and those too young to know this, simply don't; but it takes a lot of money and flowing readily available liquid capital. The main vehicle that was created for only one purpose, their purpose, a long time ago; is indeed, the MARKETS. But why did things go nuts after early 1983, when the DJIA for the first time in its long history even then, crossed over the three digit mark and into 1000+ points, forever? Well, this would take years to type up and tell, and I will tell bits and parts here and there; but there really is no short story that can be made about this beyond inconceivable monstrosity!!!!
CONVERSATION IN 1979 WITH A MYSTERIOUS MR. CALDWELL:
Someone told me that metals will not be inexpensive much longer, and that he did not wish to say more. Naturally I pressed and pressed the dude until he broke and swore me to secrecy. It does not matter because he disappeared and his entire family disappeared, about a year or so later, some time in the year of 1975. But I will tell you what he said. He said a huge secret was learned accidentally by members in his family about Fort Knox, and that the place was secretly being expanded underground, new tunnels that went very deep into new areas being excavated. A huge river, an underground river was just below where the bottom foundation was, and that after all of the gold in the entire place was taken to its new areas, a break in the foundation below it all caused the river even below that, to begin seeping in, and men had died trying to get the gold out of there. They were unrecognizable and had to be secretly disposed of. This river from the subterranean depths had an extremely high acidity, due to some volcanic action nearby even below this. All he said to me was it cannot ever ever come out, or the world would collapse, but all of our gold was literally eaten away by this river of pure acid. They closed up the tunnels, with a loss of dozens of super hushed up workmen, and that was that. I asked him how the invention had anything to do with it, and he said that his grandchildren were going to be drilled and drilled to use this on a grand scale someday like around 2020 or so, his exact words and timing, not mine. I still said, so what? He said this machine's side effect is beyond incredible, but it needs to be refined and worked on, and will take decades, but it will be able to be done; and what it will do is turn magma and lava material, when mixed with this chemical in small doses, and hundreds of gallons of normal seawater, into gold, pure total solid gold. Someday the price will be pennies a pound, but for the next number of decades, until this device can be finished, metals will soar because of the problem at Knox. I never saw or heard from him again, and 9 and a half years later, his good friend Jim Burr gave me the old invention of the weird laptop, before there were laptops, in exchange for a magazine that I had. He was madly in love with Connie Chung the newscaster. This was the 1978 September issue of STAG, a dirty filthy mag like Penthouse or Playboy or a million others out there in the dirty book stores. In this magazine that most copies were confiscated, were dozens of naked disgusting shots of this international news broadcaster, Connie Chung. I took the invention down to Orlando Florida with me, but it ended up in the streets of Washington, DC before arriving down in Orlando in December of 1983, and nobody needs to know any of this, NOBODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I did not get into these parts that I am adding in for the sake of these blogs and my life journal records; but what I did tell my brand new stock broker, Mister Dennis Caldwell; was the forbidden story of Fort Knox, and I laughed and said, I'm sure it is all a bunch of bullskhit. But the look on his face was beyond the look a man would give you if you just told him that you raped his teenaged daughter and his wife, both together. I don't think I ever saw a look on a face like this, not even in a movie. He jumped up out of his seat telling me, and I remember it well, ''Be right back old man'', one of his expressions, I came to learn, as I looked like a 16 year old boy in those years. He came back and told me if it's OK with me, can I leave now, I have seen the brokerage and he had given me lots of time, and now must get back to lots of stuff he needed to do. While he said this to me, phones were ringing off of the hook, and the place went from half asleep to a mad house. I got home and it was after business hours, it was a long drive back in rush hour traffic, to Audubon, New Jersey and Audrey Heller's place. Next morning while dead to the world, Audrey at her job and me alone in the house, Dennis called me and said, after I said hello, and he said ''Mark, it's you right'', and I said yeppir, or something like that, half asleep. He then said, ''LOCK LIMIT UP''. I said to him what's that mean? He said that is good, your position in the palladium contract was at maximum profit, and already no longer able to even trade today. Next morning he called and did not wait for me to say it is me, and he said, ''LOCK LIMIT UP''. This was the beginning of the gold rush. I know I started it by telling the great Zvonko Knox secret, real or not real, who can ever know, but I had no intention of trying to manipulate a plucking metal market. Right after this, that work off wealthy HUNT, from HUNT FOOD, did indeed go onto corner the silver market, and this is a historical fact that anyone out here can check out with simple Googling. Now many chemists know that nothing can make gold tarnish or in any way injure it. Actually, it can be melted as the great mints of the world all know, and it can all flow away, deep into the earth. I never meant to say that this is not what happened, but when I do not share an entire story at an exact time that I tell it, maybe I have very justified reasons for my otherwise methods of madness, as many feel with me, is the case. Hay Mashell and others, YOU'RE ALL ENTITLED, AS AM I, TO YOUR WONDERFUL OPINIONS. I just happen to know a little bit that other people on this planet don't. This is a fact, and the entire world is lucking free to call me a goddang gas liar, anytime, any place, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!! SO LIMIT UP, BRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OH SHKIT, does anything that resembles ducking normalcy, ever become a part of my screwy weird life, ladies and gentlemen????????
If anyone out here reading me even for one or two years, let alone 3-8; really thinks you have been told all the huge slit about my life, you are about as far off base as all the baseball game stolen base losses all put together, and tripled!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You honestly have only been given a smattering, about musical saga's, Jefferson supergirls, and great wonderful powerful Aunt Oz Geraldine's; all notwithstanding here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CURRENT TEMPERATURE 57 DEGREES FNHT.
Feels 100! Actually that is a lie, it feels quite nice tonight. TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Munster.
CURRENT NUMBERS ARE BELOW AT END OF BLOG, YO!!!
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PAGEVIEWS ALL TIME HISTORY---
COME BACK TO ME ROSEANN DELANEY, IN ANTY FORM, YO!!!!!!!!
Back in 1977, I met a real quirk cough named Jan, who did sound recording and thought he was a little god at the age of twenty-nine. He had a little studio in a music store in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, where I did a total of five songs between 1977 and 1980, and he did such a rotten job, that Howard Solomon at the RPL Studios in Camden, New Jersey; reworked the mixes to make them a little more alive and a little bit better. But just exactly how does Jan Nace and Dennis Caldwell of the Clayton Brokerage, all fit together as I told that it does, a while back; you may still be wondering, folks? Well, for openers, TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS from universes all throughout hyperspace, do a lot more than know how to join up with the Lambrigg Cult of the Astral-Plane, fly around in weird creepy air saucers, build weird looking work-bots that we have all mistaken for space-aliens (SPAL) as it will come to be called later towards the end of this century, and these lovely wonderful darling awesome people, LOVE TO PLAY GAMES, with the rest of the NON-TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS, and the intricacies and elucidations to this as well as Jan Nace and Dennis Caldwell, would require about a dozen WAR AND PEACE TOLSTOY novels, for me to even start cracking open, all of this major smother plucking grit. That does not mean it is not there, or that I could not write it all and crack it all open. I will do all of this, just give me some time, and hay all good Delaney vamps out there, where are you when I need you and WALMART VOICE-MAILS, BRAH??????????
YES EVER SINCE THE VAMPIRE LINK LEFT ME, MY BLOGS WENT TO HICKEY CITY, ROSIE GIRL. OUCH, IN MORE WAYS THAN THREE, HOW DO PEEPS LIVE WITH THEIR EMMEREFFING CONSCIENCES FOR 44 AND A HALF YEARS?
Now this was a random selection added here on top this blog and yes, a total SAFET that endlessly proves these words as true. My dreaming interactions recently in the past year or so R beyond off the wall major hyper time. Way back in 1984, I started having those wild hyperspace S-DAY-LAUDER experiences, Mister GLENN ROLAND, and yes sir, fire is all part of my endless past, and as far back as Chicago, and Miss O's 'CALLIO-COW', or so it appears sometimes. The first fire that all seemed 2 launch this operation was at the illustrious Maxfield Recording studio in Cherry Hill, above the Russel Music Store on Beidamin Avenue. According 2 the proprietor of the studio, Sir Jan Nace, it was a fire that somehow started when nobody was there. All fires 2 me of course R extremely suspicious and I believe in Jewish Lightning, Landlord Lightning, and Contractors Lightning, and I believe in criminals and I believe in fraud and horrendous and monstrous evil behavior on the part of most homosapiens on this awesome diseased planet, y-O!!!!!!!!!! Here is me' (y-O-HACK) right on target, as we R back now in 2024 and out of that 10 year ago time! But shortly after the fire and B-4 the fire at the Garden state Hospital when Tom Glenn was getting his operation there and quite mysteriously coincidental in my book, came the start of my hyperspace experiences with the great S-DAY-L peeps where I was working there, and somehow when typing my dream in 2014 that I pasted in, my mind then had blanked out the true first origins of this wild locale in the 5th dimensional hyperspace. Let me wrap up my point 4 this day only now.
This fragrance company is all connected with other transdimensional junk in my life, including music related stuff, fires, daughters and that means both of them, MI and PEE; and our dreams all interconnect into so many things that also include some type of weird unfathomable feedback looping systems that even appear 2 intertwine and commingle waking life junk all within the whole of it. This may sound beyond insane, yet it is all the truth, and the psych industry B damned straight into Dogtown, as I know what I know, SO YO, and I looked that time, MO, and WOMO-SPACEFORCE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION.
MORIANITY SECRETS THERMOMETER SCALE
(MSTS)
Week
*****************************************l******
Week ending 4 PM, Tuesday afternoon: 1-9-24
Coming Out of Vivid DREAM-STACKING Experiences
03:10 AM, Friday, January 5, 2024
© 2006-2024 BOM-Project
As with yesterday the 4th this is another rinse and repeat or saying it very old world 'carbon-copy' 5th day now in January where both today and yesterday I seemed 2 wake up right at the nose of 20 minutes shy of three in the morning. I came out of a major incredible dreaming-interaction this time unlike the prior day of awakening at that very moment, and I wish 2 discuss it and then tie in much stuff that absolutely pertains 2 it that the BOM has been talking about 4 quite some time now and especially since this blog projected started up around 16 months ago from my library and public computer terminals where there is a definite censorship that prevented me from saying stuff that I wanted 2, and just about as ANTI-AMERICAN AS IT GETS. Speaking of this, I was with President Clinton, and we had quite a talk, and he wussed out on me, and would not allow me 2 tell him some important things; and this was all only a very small part of the entire experience. This is the first time since living at Dellway Arms apartments in Oaklyn, NJUSAESMWG, from middle late 1969 through early 1975, that I had that dreaming experience of being back in the COOLEY HALL and in the classroom of Misses MILDRED B. YOUNG, and being completely part of it only not being a young person but rather an old man as I now actually am in the physicality here of the waking-world. In this particular experience the other classmates in the room were totally different than those actually there in waking life, and none of my old peeps such as Bruce Pennock, Amy-C and Bob McDowell were there at all, and only complete strangers from my waking world point of view were in the classroom, and I vividly recall the experience, as shortly after other things that I will get into all went down, President W-J Clinton, who seemed 2-B a 'former-president' there just as he is here, only he would have been much younger back in those original COOLEY HALL times, than he was in the dreaming experience, and the two of us got talking in the corner of the room. I desperately wanted 2 speak 2 him and tell him that I was a transdimensional T-2-E not in control of anyone or anything yet totally aware of the situation, which is what of course separates a type-2 from a full fledged T-3-E (type three exploratron). I wanted 2 tell him enough so as 2 maybe alter my own life up here in the future, and was completely aware that I was both out of time and age as well as in a transdimensional altered reality in the awesome 5th dimensional hyperspace. Only he seemed 2 know it from the way he behaved and wanted absolutely nothing 2 do with it, refusing 2 allow me 2 give him a contact number and just walked away from me and out of the room entirely, and a room he would not have ever belonged in 2 begin with of course, YO. Now this wild dreaming interaction as many R-4 many whom remember much of their dream-life, is and was in several seemingly broken up sections, and the breaking up and jumps in 'dreams', is not some error in dreams, but simply our waking-world memory system and or better stated; its limited fallibility. Simple as THAT, BRO! My section began B-4 the Cooley Hall deal and then there was the 3rd part of it at the end, placing the C-H part sort of as the in-between part of a 3-part normal type of dream, only far from it in other ways, since this was a DREAM-STACKING experience, or dreams within dreams, as the me in the dream, my dreaming double or my doppelganger was remembering many things all throughout this entire 3-part experience and it appeared 2 grow more lucidly connected into both itself there as well as into all sorts of interconnected stuff from back here in me' waking life where I am now typing out this blog-writing onto my computer word program, and 2-B posted at the B-D-C website after that. Remember now and as previously blog-told B-4, these type of stacked-dreaming experiences and 4 short, I'll call them, S-D-E's; have a limit of 12, at least according a very good gal-pal of lovely Patricia Hollister H-H from back in those times of the middle 'nineteen-seven-DEEZ', with or without any or all potential transdimensional taunting NO-JOY-ZEE-USA Casino-Billboards being involved whatsoever!!! Anyway, the connections 2 this 'other Atlantic City' parallel-universe casino and their promotions that teased my phone-tapped and bugged 1986 August dreaming-experience with my own parallel-world trip of 153 days, is obvious 2 any and all fans of my daughter, at least when these blogs were all in their opening and beginning early stages back while I lived up north and B-4 family chased me far off and down here into FLOWERLAND-USA and all translated song lyrics done by McFly car tampering Joseph Berrios, me' ole' coworker from the great one and only Echelon Towers Building of Voorhees Township, NJUSAESMWG right behind the famous 2 all locals of that area, ECHELON MALL!!!!!!!! But keeping magical reflected strobing inventions, and or toys, out of this opposite side of the BIG BANG, 4 the rest of this writing; so that I can move onward here with stuff pertinent 2 right now, needs 2-B done. We can always get back 2 the year of 1969 and Ziggy Malyeska as well as shortly following television shows with the late Maverick-dude on his fantastic new show called, “The Rockford Files”, and all incredibly and powerfully thrown punches ever possibly made!!!!!!!!
Let me move on with this 3-part or sectioned dream that I very recently popped out of, or 2 quote the awesome latengrate TV-SYFY-fiction writer Sir Rodney Serling here, “or did I come out of it”? Who in all gods honesty would truly bet their infinite 'soul' so 2 speak, on anything such as things like this, 4 sure, if the consequences meant being wrong equals a direct trip over 2 DOGTOWN, 4 crying out louder than thunder on steroids???????? This dream began where I was living in Philly, and a block away from Steve's apartment on 16th Street, this Steve being Patty Hollister's old guy-pal, only completely or so I was led 2 believe by both him as well as my mom, Patty's shipping company coworker, platonic in nature. I was totally aware that I had recently moved in there with some other roommate, and I was in my room in the apartment and had my own room as did the roommate whomever that was and I do not know, and then we shared living room, bathroom, and kitchen privileges, sort of an average type of 'roommate-arrangement' in life here in America and maybe around the entire world. I was looking in my wallet, and I had all the ID that I have now and here in waking life, only my drivers license was from Pennsylvania, and showed a 16th street Philadelphia address, and 4 all I know, my roommate could even B Steve but something inside of me makes me believe it was someone whom he knew. I seemed 2 have the very same credit card accounts that I have here in Florida in my waking life as well. After I placed me' wallet into me' nightstand or end-table in a drawer that it contained, I began hearing some muffled soft voices from outside of my one large bedroom window and walked over 2 look outside and 2 the left of me down on the street level from either a 2nd or a 3rd story; was what at first appeared 2-B a laundry that was open 24-7 and had lots of peeps all around, and then suddenly, it just became a night club of some sort, and with the same peeps all standing around outside of it and waiting 2 get in. When stuff like this happens, right away we can B sure that we R interacting in much more 'distant' area parts of the 5th dimensional hyperspace. This is that region that all dreamers know only 2 well where one second we R in a car and then pow, the entire car just becomes our grandmother, or along these outlandish lines where in true actual reality, it is due to reality itself starting 2 break apart and down all together, being so far out into the onion rings of virtually limitless hyperspace. Then we have the psychiatrists who make their living telling us all how it is all part of zillions of psycho neurosis's and systems and operations of our mind thought processes and along that line, so since they hold the degrees and I do not; I am the one forced 2 concede and shut up! Simple as Thistlethorns, and also, simple as this, oh great Sir Mike Soft. So I stared over at this crowd of peeps from my apartment bedroom window in Philadelphia and as I said, the place just 2 the left about 6 properties down from the apartment house and on the far side of the street suddenly went from being an extremely large laundromat 2 a good size city nightclub of some kind. Suddenly as I couldn't help staring at a beyond white hot gorgeous babe standing there, she happened 2-C me looking down at her and she yelled up at me, “Time 4 your next dream-stage, buddy”! Her words. With that, pow, I was at COOLEY HALL across the Delaware River in Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG, and standing right outside Misses Young's classroom. I walked in and just sat down right at my same chair and desk that I used here in waking world times in the autumn of 1972. Within a couple of minutes, class began, and our first deal was standing in a line in this large room, about 12 of us and the same number as the actual class was back in 1972, and we had 2 do some slow weird dance like nothing I ever saw in the waking world life here. As we made these silly moves that each student did in his or her own way with no 2 peeps doing the same exact thing, we were told 2 think of making a lot of money. Suddenly one of the students had a large box practically fall down on his head, and it broke open; and then huge amounts of currency just fell out of it, and all over the floor right at his area by his feet. The rest of us did not have this happen. Suddenly the teacher whom by the way was not Misses Young in this hyperspace experience, told us that he was the one who was destined 2 experience the magic, and this is an exact quotation. Then 4 absolutely no reason whatsoever, I just, or my doppelganger from that world, just blurted out, “The magic was meant 2 happen 2 me as I am the only one here visiting U all from a wild dream decades up into the future”, and those were my precise words!!!!!!!!!!! Within one second, the teacher whomever it was, and I have no waking memory even of this person's gender let alone any other specific detail about the person other than it was our teacher there on that day; looked right into my eyes and I could not C his or her face and they seemed 2 have the power 2 cause me this effect and I knew it and he or she knew that I knew it, and I knew that as well, and this person said 2 me in a firm and quiet voice, “The magic is in 2-parts, and U-R next-BUDDY”, and remember the “BUDDY”, as in the girl outside of the nightclub, that seemingly had sent me into this following dream-stage, also used that word with me. With that, poof, President Clinton walked through the door and right over 2 my desk and sat down on some folding chair that he had in his hand. I already told U all how I was completely unsuccessful in telling him that I needed 2 tell him some mind blowing stuff, and so now we will go right into the 3rd and final part of this 3-staged stack dream, and Y this is indeed a layered or stacked dream, with or without any carpenters, levels, or music in any possible way being involved here, YO peeps aldare: When Mister Clinton walked away from me and refused 2 let me tell him 2 take my contact information, I seemed 2 instantly following his leaving the room there at Cooley Hall, remember that I had also had a similar dream 2 this one and that I was indeed in a following similar type of dreaming experience in Misses Young's class, yet this 2nd time here, my teacher was not Misses Young. As I started 2 concentrate and seriously cogitate and reflect on many things from waking life, many dreaming memories would surface, and suddenly, I knew that something beyond major incredible was going down here. I realized that I was inside of a gargantuan and beyond gigantic Senator Sanders-HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE 'layer and stacking' of multiple dreaming's. Despite the towel seepage effects or 'TOSE' of the transdimensional phenomenon involved with all of this, I had suddenly, and 'INSIDE of this DREAM', formed a clear and vivid total memory of hundreds of my dreams; as well as so-called interdimensionalized waking world memory experiences, and then I began 2-C just as clearly as a tinkling bell up on a crisp cool autumn hill ringing out loudly, B-4 church services R-2 begin; that my entire life, and maybe all of yours out there who may ever B reading these words, in any locale, and in any possible way, and without any raspberries, or festivals, or great musical works being in any way involved in the mix whatsoever YO; that we all R in fact most likely existing humanly and physically in the matter-realm in this wild dream stacked layering inter-flux system of a sort, 4 any and all lacking better way of attempting right now 4 me 2 try and describe this 2 another human being. The experience was awesome, and then as all of this was going down and right after Mister Clinton had exited the classroom at C-H, I was instantly in my car and still in Jersey somewhere and driving down lots of rural roads in places completely unfamiliar 2 me right now in my waking world life. Perhaps B-4 getting into this final part of this 3-part dreaming experience here, I should have included one more thing back on what I call “WEIRD-DAY” as I call some of my extra crazy days and times when entire groupings of crazy sicko weird junk all goes down around me and usually while outside on errands only it can upon occasion happen without leaving a residence. One of those minor incidents that I did not list and just said I had some lesser crazy weird stuff happen 2 me, was about the radio sound system in my car. I had come out of a 'dream;' on that day as well that was quite vivid, concerning being in my car and trying 2 adjust the bass and treble controls on the radio. All of the features have long broken, only the volume and the bass and treble still operated. All of the other systems such as changing radio stations and operating the tape player and operating front and rear or left and right speaker controls all have been long shot 4 many years now. In the dream, the base and treble also stopped working. On weird day, sure enough and as in the dream from just hours earlier, the base and treble control ALSO STOPPED OPERATING. Only the radio volume control is left working now, stuck on Family Radio, the great once Harold Camping owned religious Christian station. In this 3rd part of the experience, I became totally aware of my entire life and knew that all of this was inside of this 'dream'. So I figured, let me now C how much works and or doesn't work with my radio and so I pulled over onto a little side road area like a semi-picnic type place that we all C along many roads and especially in more country and rural road area throughout the USA. Suddenly I realized that there was a cassette tape in the tape player, and when I turned on the volume from being all the way down, it was playing; and it was the harmony track on my 2013 musical project #29 in the © Copyright Office, the song called “You'll B Crossing Over”. The entire radio worked again, all of the controls and all of the 4 speakers were operational again as well. Suddenly just as I was about 2 get back onto the road and drive down it 4 a while, the tape right in the middle of the song just went silent and then a voice came out of it and began saying one wild crazy thing after another, so I went back 2 where I had been parked a few minutes earlier and parked there again. Loud raucous laughter began getting louder and louder and the more I turned the volume lower, it still grew louder and then I ejected out the tape and it stopped. I got back onto the road and started 2 drive the car, and suddenly the car drove faster and faster, and the breaks were completely ineffective. Then it suddenly resumed a normal operation again and I started recognizing the scenery from stuff in waking life and I was in the Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG area near Jenny Plageman's trailer Park, the Mullica Mobile Manor or the 'MMM' 4 short. This is not the end of this experience, but IT IS WHERE I AM GONNA' STOP 4 NOW, and we will come back 2 this incredible dream-deal within a short space of time, and IPYT, great Blogaudians, not so great Blogaudians, and anyone else possible aldare somewhere, and the Galanet B damned 2 Dogtown, Mister Jim Pratt Transdimensional 256-Colonist-TPB!
END TRANSMISSION.
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