Posting at 17 past 7 AM, June 1, 2024.
You Can All B a Witness 2 the Way I Say Things, and Then Get Instantly Punished and Pummeled by WOMO-MILITUFORCE, Right Directly Afterward, the B-COPY
I speak here B-4 going one wee tad bit further on here with anything at all whatsoever, how this vely item seemingly caused and is absolutely directly behind the odd number 2024 months being filled with horrendous BOTBAR days, bringing me 2 a 32 percent BOTBAR 4 those three monstrous months, and with those being, the months of JANUARY, MARCH & MAY!!!!!!!!!!
Every secret I reveal, the enemy punishes me back in a precise way that pertains to the details of that secret. Anyone following this for at least 6-12 months now, and cannot see this is true, along with how true all of my claims are; is simply in a comfy-zone-denial in their spirit, as they read the words of MORIANITY. Fine, you have a right to do and think as you please, and I have no problem with that!!!!! Still, I do know that the majority who read my words, can see through the lies, and do in fact know that I indeed am really truly being persecuted by some unknown beyond alien group of very very very distant foreign travelers. The only pieces in the jigsaw puzzle that have any hope of fitting into a good explanation, is the games of the gods for distraction purposes, as well as to keep it all organized, and under their total control. Any truth should be revealed, and none should be intentionally buried and covered up, as they are currently being. Take the truth away, and all that be left is various degrees and forms of lacking sanity. Collectively as a species, humanity has a side effect of growing overly complex and technical on an ever increasing upward linear, if not geometric sized scale. This would be none other than forcing truths, rearranging lies to become new age truths, and so forth, again, without what really is being what we all agree to perceive to be true, we have nothing. We may think we own a very high teck world, and be super rich and maybe even somewhat happy; but once more, there is that pesky three syllable word again, ILLUSION!!!!!!! It does not matter where or what I live, work, go, do, and so forth. The Assistant to New Jersey Congressman Robert Andrews in 1998, Mister Clarence Harris; knew how real this powerful truth was in his own life; and he never doubted it for a second in his mind, as U-C, he could relate personally. There is an IF or an Interaction-Force that takes control, and makes gold slowly turn to rust and smelly garbage, if I am in any way connected into it; a subject that could be thousands of pages long, and not scratch all that much of even an ice shaved surface. But a few constants are right there in my face. The tit for tat retaliation that all started in 1986, along with the escalation of my major plucking hellish nightmare problems to begin with; PROVES and VERIFIES beyond one speck of miniscule doubt; that this is all a game of the gods, as my Morianity has preached all along, since it began in early 2006. Still, why me, and not all of you, and yes, this is the all time Shakespearean question. Let us explore this.
If Shakespeare was correct even slightly, about the entire world being a stage, and us being the actors in a play here, and I know that he was told this by the gods in some form of slightly off of normal mind awareness state, be it a dream or meditation, or whatever; then we all have been given a roll to play, a four dimensional script to act out our part in an interactive menu various choices way, and so on and so forth. We do not bring this to surface waking mental level as we go through our waking times and live our parts in this Shakespeare play arena, but we play our parts nonetheless. Just as we breath in and out, with rarely any conscious attention ever paid top it. Same exact thing folks. Before anyone totally judges claims made in the Morianity teachings, you need to read all of the books ever written by one of the great nineties new age guru founding fathers, Carlos Castaneda. Then we can talk again, and when I tell of a lot of stuff such as the Lambrigg Cult all meeting on this physical realm without knowing or remembering each other, merely being subconsciously driven to join the EW group, and all eventually and gradually carry out the great new age mind control, spoken of by me in my 1986 “Real Good Girl” music project that I copyrighted. You can see this as the title to a group of songs and matching the LOC catalog of my songs for 1986, in the blog's enclosed list that I CAP in. Rather than go on and on, and really say next to nothing for most readers at their dimly lit stage of awareness levels, let me try cutting to the chase. We have an existence of our truer self-entity, on the Astral-Plane, or the spirit world. This entity self or 'soul', is way to large and complicated, for any one universe to contain it; so it breaks up into countless amounts of various ones, where they then are all dreamed eventually, into various separate life-times, down in the fifth dimensional hyperspace. This is the vast area containing virtually limitless numbers and amounts of space-time 4-D universes, all operating on slightly different but agreeing atomic frequencies. Now I told of the towel example and how localized other nearby realities all seep together in strange ways, just as a soaking wet towel would also seep its wetness into other surrounding towels that lay around it and touch it at some point. Very soon, if harassment keeps up, I will make up real examples, showing these towels in action, and then showing my life here as well as in surrounding localized hyperspace. It is all one big us you know, and so separate parts of our 'soul' that is living in unlimited parallel realities, does not mean a total disconnect in the lives of our many localized doppelganger other-us's. All ready, my blogs show all sorts of dry towels around the one central wet one, but only a few are getting it, and putting the '2 and the 2', properly together; and arriving at the proper 4 answer. 3.9999999 won't cut it, and so, it may as well be 26.00029384756. Knowing what I have come to know about this topic, can be related to a lottery winning number. One number wins it. Every other number, far away if off by one digit, are all equally losing numbers; not counting the way the system operates the cash payout's for near misses. I simply mean that any wrong answer, a little or a lot wrong, is still equal to a wrong answer, and that there only can ever be one correct answer to any problem mathematically. Now my trying to post up my song, a year long try now, last week, at the library in West Fort Pierce; not only failed and caused a nasty BOTBAR day for me, but also, was punished. It is just a simply little ditty about a greedy fisherman, who refuses to share his catch with a starving family, who encounters him on a fishing jetty one day, and then later, a storm blows up and knocks him off the jetty to his death, where in the after-life, as mortals see it, he is saddened to see that he no longer can have any fish to eat, despite being surrounded with such an incredible abundance of it. But we all know that this is more than a song, telling a cute little story. The WOMO has a vested interest, or so it would appear, to keep me blocked and unable to ever do what normal 9 year old's do every day like nothing. Some may think this is supernatural, others that I am just either crazy 4 thinking that this is all happening, when it is a mere delusion. Don't I wish, or they figure, wow what a total retard; all he has to do is get a book on how to work the Youtube at the library, only my trucking brain is not wired to be taught without a real live instructor or teacher. So the enemy has me covertly by my thrill rocks, and they know it, and they clucking laugh at me every danglass day. It's after four now, & I'm tired, and need to plucking crash. Yes, this blog is hit a lot, but my Youtube channel, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ is never hit, maybe once or twice every month, one song is hit. It seems that after I took down the original postings in middle 2011 after moving in here to this PHA apartment, and doing this; it caused a strange thing to happen where nobody can get to my music, and or; they just do not have any desire to ever go and listen to it, even though the blogs would make a lot more sense if viewers would listen to the music posted, as it tells true stories that will match stuff from this blog. Do I have any answers for just what is causing this? NOPE, not even a clue, maybe ten or so wild theories, and they all together and three dollars will get me 12 shinny quarters any time at any bank. I could not help seeing how one of the two brothers who caused so much havoc back on Monday up in Boston, has a Youtube account, and is only 19 years old, and has four digit hit counts on his posts; while I am lucky if my average post has had 3-6 hits. All other counts above that are my views, and or CAPPING links to blogs, as this all creates a view, and is counted. I am left to wonder why a murderer has 4 digit hits, and I am getting maybe 4 on one post and 5 on another, and so forth, on an account I have had up since the 30th of December of 2010, almost two and a half years now. They stopped allowing me to blog share to blogger one day back last year in 2012, and I could go on. I know my stuff is somehow covertly being as sanctioned and blocked from stumble on views, as is possible. Many have also told me for a long time, that they gave up trying to get to my stuff from their computer, 'it just leads to nothingness'. If I can ever prove this, I'll have a case for First Amendment Legal Issues, impeding my freedom of speech; and I don't even post major stuff, such as hate core, and really heavy anti-anything stuff. It is just normal music, that tells stories of my life, in small and clever ways; that is if it is listened to carefully. Hay, I am happy for those who get a million, and 90 million views, but why am I getting 5? This has to be some form of a blockade, and this clearly legally is in violation of some rights that I know that I must have somewhere, in this great country's constitution. You cannot watch the news one day without the anchors telling how people post something, and it virals out to a million or more hits in just days. I do not go after that amount, but why can't I get 2-6 thousand for example? Who is stopping me? I do intend to hire an attorney, and see if I can indeed ever get to the bottom of it all, after-all, if this case if ever won; it would put me and my Morianity on the map, and then I could get my message out to the world, and that is all that I have ever wanted to do; as then I would have friends on my side of this nightmare fight, and folks that would all band together, to help each other against tyranny and oppression, of any and all forms and kinds, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
**2:30 AM-EDST, 18 APRIL, 2013, THURSDAY MORNING**
Now a solid decade later from times these words were written and posted by the Mountainpen, up in 2023, I went 2 sleep early one night that year, maybe it was even as far back as late sometime in the 2022 year; but there I was, on this lakehouse property, some place in good ole' McGuire-Pennsylvania-USA; sitting in a car that either my dreaming double owned or friends of his, and this Mowry dude who owned the entire lake boat rental system there, did the vely same thing that the GOOGLE-BLOGGER-YOUTUBE-MIKE SUCKS folks R all doing in some covert manner of pure stealth and demonic wickedness, that protects name recognized peeps so that endlessly wreak havoc on small peeps WHO R NAUGHT ABLE 2 EVER FIGHT THEM BACK IN THIS NATION OF POWER 2 THE 'KINGS AND QUEENS', USA!!!!!!!!!! I was in that car by myself, not blasting the car music system, merely playing the music a little lioudly as 4 whatever the reason may have been, I was sitting in the back seat and there were only front seat speakers in their audio system. My harmony track of the 2013 produced 'greedy-fisherman' song was playing in the tape deck, as over in that parallel world, (in my dreams); tapes were still in use, and so car systems still had tape players as standard audio devices. I was playing the harmony track where my daughter's voice from that 1984 lab-tech telephone conversation had been used at the Avalon Studio in 2013, with a vocoder music device, 2 turn the spoken words into a musical sound, using the driving instructions of her saying 2 me that day, “You'll B crossing over”. Then that line would keep on repeating and merely would B altered bar by bar in the music as the chord changes would then progress. TOWEL SEEPAGE EFFECTS of transdimensional hyperspace is simply the way this dude came suddenly over 2 the car I was playing this song in, and he reached over into the front part where nobody was sitting, and just turned the volume completely OFF, naught down, MIZZ BLAKE, OFF!!!!!!!!!! Anyone unable 2-C all of this, and thereby also C the 'TOSE' involved here, transdimensionally is both blind and lobotomized. But there is more, as recently up in present times where I am now typing this blog, on June the first in 2024; several nights back around just shy of 10 PM, I bolted out of a major deep sleep 2 a loud sound from the Mosquito Control peeps who drive through in a noisy spray truck every so often l;ate at night, normally close 2 the range of 1-5 in the AM, and 4 whatever the cosmic reason came much earlier this time. 2 bears in a very distant part of the 5th dimensional hyperspace were actually singing my song, the fisherman song form 2013 that was written by me 30 years earlier than that back in 1983, from Sir Jerry Pliner's Atco home in NJUSAESMWG, at 134 Norris Avenue, called, GITYA 4 short, actually titled 4 purposed of the 1983 copyright © officially; 'Girl, I'll Tell U Anything'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The music was used with a slightly altered bridging structure and modified chord progression alterations and the lyrics were completely redone to tell the story of my day once long ago from even then, back in 1971 around late August, up in Stone Harbor, New Jersey-USA; and where I actually did witness the guy in that song, that greedy fisherman, shooing away a hungry family begging him 4 a couple of freaking glass fish that day, and my mom and I were totally flabbergasted, when we saw the way that he was so mean and uncaring with them!!!!!!! As U may B able 2 now C peeps, this made quite an impression on me, at the age of sixteen and a half years. In this alternate reality of very distant 5-D hyperspace, these bears, a lady and a guy bear, resembled a little bit, those bears we all C endlessly on our television shows and stremaing services, marketing the toilet tissue with their beyond stupid famous slogan about 'enjoying the go', as if there is anything enjoying about some stinking disgusting deal we all must do on a daily basis 2 keep us from dying from intestinal poison. But these 2 bears were singing my song, “You'll Be Crossing Over”, © Mark Wayne Mohr 2023, musical lyrics, tune © 1983. The music was almost the same as it is here in 'waking world' locales but the one major difference was the chorus part that also led 2 a bridge that the song does not have in the waking world, merely the 4 verses and the 4 choruses, but no bridge, per se. Complicated connections inter-world were there and especially with the differences and alterations in the tune. It would require days of writing 2 truly get into it, and just as with the 'OH JIM-JIM' tune, and also 'transdimensional', same thing, it is complicated; and yes, over in that other world, it's vocalist's were the Levy-Gibb peeps, only there; they never ripped me off, and I had written this song 4 them, and we all made a major fortune on it, as it truly is a wild song with a beyond monster glass tune. So I'll say this, even if I have 2 choke on those words 4 many various reasons, YO weerlld, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Sir Tom Glenn indeed was used by me, back when I created several of my following-1980-times songs, especially after moving out of 1802 RHA, and moving into the Atco home of ALLCHOKES, and 'magical lab tech flaking blaking dawts'!!!!!!! Most likely folks, a major glass 'JEEZ-LOUISE' would now B in order, huh YO???????????? Yes Tom's mighty stolen musical arrangement is MINE, and I paid 4 it, and like with other freedoms and rights, 2 this day, I plan 2 still fight 4 my rights 2 it, and plan 2 call him as a LEGAL-WITNESS in a soon 2 come litigation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know about 1980-BRAZIL, and I know that 'OH JIM-JIM' sold 40 million copies, right up there with Mister Buffet's M-Ville tune, only, in an alternate reality; naught recognized here in mortal waking world systems, but then we come 2 it folks; that pesky and never ridding towel seepage effects, or (TOSE) of the transdimensional hyperspace reality, huh there 5-D Mizz lovely white-hot Marilyn McCoo??????? If those sticks try and ever claim any rights, 2 any of those other tunes, that I PAID MONEY 4, IN LATE SPRING OF 1980, TO MISTER MUSICAL ARRANGER TOM GLENN, there will B more trouble than a trillion flagging 'River Cities' will ever B able 2 properly deal with, or handle; and I promise U all that 1, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
The greatest fish in the whole dang bay wants to share a little more information with this blind foolish Planet Earth.
Before two years of these blogs were done, all of the basic information in Morianity was out. There will always be possible additions as life moves on in my present incarnation of beingness. Only stones don't change, so why would this not be the case? Well, that is soaking wet with liquid truth, and yet even more than that is going on, and stones do change. People say when you die, you stop aging. I use this as a quick example of something. That is entirely untrue. You stop aging in a biological sense, but while the dead body and remains of what we were, sits on a slab, or is buried in a tomb; the universe is aging, so thereto are the remains aging, cosmically and not biologically, but even the rocks around the cemetery, all are aging, and will eventually crumble away. Only stopping the motion of the worlds and the inner working of them, stops the clock, another scientific term for this state in the laboratory, is called, “Absolute Zero”. When things are frozen, they don't move, and they do not change. Change is age, as well as many other things. This all fits nicely into many things that have been said in Morianity, only in-between the lines more than direct and bluntly. One thing I will be touching on with this particular blog, is the middle nineties, and what may have led to a significant alteration in my life, that no ordinary 'midlife-crisis' or other Millionth-Council nonsense, can be used as an overly simplistic explanation, or even excuse. I have come right out and said one of many over-the-head beliefs in Morianity, that there is but one real true point of reality, and change and age is merely this point with a little before 'something' now existing behind it, that was not there before. This can send chills up a spine at 186,282 SMPS, especially if really grasped and properly understood. The few times that a person seriously begins contemplating what time really is, or what is forever and along these lines; a quick spark jumps up and enters into our consciousness, from the deeper all knowing beneath the consciousness omniscience, that we all ARE. Depending on individual level of 'enlightenment', this plants a seed, and at another time, the same thoughts begin to roll around in the mind, and again, a little more and a little more starts creeping into normal human waking awareness. Surviving enough hellish existence accelerates this process, like throwing expensive garden feeding chemicals onto our lawns and flowers. Normally a limit exists where only so much can be tolerated, so much physical pain before a death results, or so much mental anguish before total insanity takes over. But as Christian scriptures cleverly teach the 'enlightened' folks, something bigger than death is out there, and there may be a hundred names for it the world over. On this blog, when not saying DOGTOWN, it is refered to no differently in Morianity than in Christianity; and that word is HELL. For reasons that go beyond my surface awareness at present, I survived more than what it takes to remain sane by human standards, and can prove it when forced to do so someday by the authorities; and this means that my life, my physical life on this physical plane reality, has become HELL. This did not happen in 1986, nor did it happen during the beyond monstrous horrendous years to follow into the nineties, and up as far as the middle of the decade. Then, suddenly, with or without any shopping at Walmart, nor seeing or hearing, or music related nonsense; something happened to me, that was explained by the so-called know it all degreed people in authority, as a mid-life crisis. Well, fine and well, only this was one brother trucking hell of a mid-life crisis, Mary Carter initials of inescapable proportions; and with or without magical McVeigh paint projects, classified or unclassified, pillow talker Daddy. This is what I wish to talk about at this 'present-point' on this blog, the mid-life crisis of 1995, and without any Youtube joking around, or songs, or harbors, or eggs, or Rodney's, or phone calls, or warnings, or any other pieces and parts of Atlantic City, New Jersey, and its great County, here in America; that contains this GREAT CITY, the mirror image in a microcosm of ISIS-SCYLLA-JEHOVAH, and her true great city known Astrally, as Sahasra Dal Kanwal. This is a human English translated pronunciation, it means, the “City of the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle”. Before going on farther with 1995, and the start of all of this beyond incredible bullslit nightmare; let me tell you folks, that I don't like discussing current events and politics all that much, and did give a warning that the middle part of 2013 will mysteriously get dark and bad; and this is all just the start of it. I also told, and warned, that people are their own worst enemy. If they choose to not believe me on powerful issues, then when shkit goes all wrong and rotten, just don't blame me, nor expect me to cry a single tear. If I had my way, the laws of physics would make things like bombs and guns, be as in that old original Star Trek show, with the light beings, who stopped the Klingon's and the Federation from fighting, while maintaining the appearance of simple sheep herd folk. But this is fictional, and stuff does go bang in the night, and the daytime as well. My second choice would be that magically, only the cops and the army's would have such things, others simply would not and could not. Again, this is not reality. But I told a while back that if the authorities do not begin to carefully scrutinize and examine, why the world is getting crazier and nuttier all the time, and more and more of this kind of stuff is happening; then it will not stop. You can not legislate a bomb throw, a murder, a gun going off, or even hatred and craziness; but what can be done, is a thorough research study of many things that are totally ignored today, such as Morianity and my own story for one example. Oh I'm quite sure I'm on many lists of watched people, you cannot say all the knit I have said and not be; but that is just more anti-freedom, and in fact, in its own way; all this shkit becomes LEGALIZED TERRORISM, to quote my wonderful treasure salver father, or expanding the scope of his saying of 'legal thieves', referring to most of WASH-DOC, and hay, I am just quoting a man, a loyal serviceman who fought for his country during WWll. I despise the evil and cruelty and injustice on this planet; and much of it has been aimed right directly at me; down to the copyrighting of my song 'LOST LOVE' a year after it should be, to keep me from ever making a stink about Robin Gibb and Marcy Levy, perhaps; but we know what is happening, don't we fortune filthy 500, and wicked evil EW (Entertainment World) or industry? There is no record of Tom Glenn arranging that song either, and yet I sent an open reel tape down to be copyrighted, in the late spring in 1980, containing all 4 demo tunes; The Morning Light, Lost Love, Love So High, and Long River Blues; and the 'EW' blasted into this project, and stole around it, like rats off of a sinking ship. I do not have one good thing to say about that rotten stinking cheating evil industry; as they can all go straight to fruyucking DOGTOWN for a thousand MK. But back to other evil. I tried hard to tell those that I know listen and read these Blogs Of Mountainpen, not wanting to take advantage of the suffering, but when else will it all hit home as good, as when an incident happens? We all know that a traffic light is only constructed out of blood. You beg the township for 30 years, then finally three little kids are hit and killed by a speeding car. Then the traffic light comes. That is just the sad way of the world, and we all know it. Instead of putting me on a list, as I am quite sure I am on, those who I used to pay my taxes to, should contact me directly, and be genuinely desirous to know my true story, but no, Washington, we can't have ALL THESE POWERFUL SECRETS EXPOSED, oh no, forget that one, YO. And when the truth is right in your face, you will all see it or hear it a little off, and say, nah, can't be, similar yeah, now onto the next thing for the day. Well, I have no power to stop anything. But this is why terrorism has become so horrible since the nineties; all because plucking people just won't listen to those who shout and scream out for help, so one day, they do the unthinkable, and go blow a mall up. Well, don't worry about me, you sick arrogant rats birds; as I do not intend to spend my life in a prison, or a sike ward; but I sure did try and help, and nobody would listen; not even my great pal in the Julia Mansion. You won't do it the way you tried, even if you had gotten the votes, sir. The human condition needs addressing big time, folks like me, with huge unspeakable nightmare problems, ignored; hoping we'll all just eventually go away and vanish; and most of us do. The trouble is that 1% don't, so things end up going boom. This is just good advice and a lesson in Morianity, advanced 102, by no means to be taken as any kind of a threat. I bring truths, not threats. Now back to my Mary Carter Crises of unending eternal initials. By the way, I never said that I believe that conventional psychiatry is the total answer, as did anyone ever take a survey on the suicide rate of these whacky grass doctors?????? I have. Now let us move on, WHAAAA!
1994 was a very magical year for me, and I had two others like it in my life at both that time, and still to this day, there have been but three of these type of years in my pathetic smother clucking life. 1969, 1980, and 1994. Spacing in time from 1969, this was 11 years and 14 years after each of the preceding one that the next one occurred. That is why I was hopeful that the mathematical pattern of adding three years to eleven, might kick in again; only it did not, and 2011 was a horrible horrible brother ducking nightmare year for me. In any case, so was 2012, and normally, things do not tend to work out all that great for me on the following years in this mathematical pattern, you know, as in 1969 plus 11, plus 14, plus 17. Even though the 2011 year did not happen the way I had hoped it might, based on this pattern activity; the next-year grit sure did, as in 1970, 1981, 1995, 2012. I will miss out on the next nightmare after-year, at least according to ISIS, as in a 'dream' she promised me that I would be released from this nightmare life as Mark Wayne Mohr in 2031, and so, pluck 2032. Of course, she has enjoyed teasing me since she was 2 years old in this life, and before that, in many others as well; but I am still friggin hoping for the best, so I can do my 18 and out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, back to the Mid-life Crisis, and another wonderful MC. This is not something that can be told, bing, bang, boom, and done, but again, I can start to open a door on this blog, and then later; that room beyond can be more thoroughly explored, me' good folks aldare, YO YO YO.
I was living at the Highview Apartments, owned by Philadelphia slum-lord Mz Maria Shoemaker and her hubby. Now a child can use their eyes and see something powerful in the last sentence, and we are too smart to even touch it, YO!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho peeps, Ace and purple not withstanding, TEE HEE HEE LILLY, learn to laugh at the wild symbolism world, any-ha; there are some key events and key figures involved in my so-called Midlife Crisis, one was the President at the time, one was an elderly entertainer of days gone by, and there were some others; and I cannot freely just give away the cake and divulge the whole dang rotten mess, or trouble would most definitely follow quite closely behind the posting of this blog. One thing led to another, and 1995 came in, and the magic of the great '94 year, where all sorts of great grit happened to me, all began to disintegrate away, with every bit the realness of any fictional ducking Harry Potter story. I wish I had the imagination of writers like James Patterson, and whoever this English lady is who did Potter, not my mom's old boss from the nineteen-seventies, but very interesting and powerful symbolism, if I do have to be the one leaning on my own horn, oh Lovely Lena. WHAAAAAAAAAAAA, AHA AHA AHA MMCN from 1971!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here is the cracking open of the door. Some of it happened when I would meditate over at a place called National Park, then I would leave there and head for the Haddonwood Swim Club, and this is no normal place. This place has a real honest road that goes directly onto the Astral Plane, if you know how to access a secret underneath the creek behind the place. In any case, no one thing is the story, and no one powerful secret is being kept. This is literally a clucking nursery of baby secrets that live and breed and grow, and are heavily protected; maybe for all I know, by the great KENN-MCGUIRE clan themselves, as they were not afraid to hire the OZ man, and I am afraid I just made a big grass mistake, typing this truth to you all right now. He also hired the other quirk cough, to take care of the first one. Even the name has a symbolism to this worked off behavior, WHAAAAAAAAABIT! If you do not believe in Alice's, looking glasses, reflectional time, magic Sidney King Crown, and independence, well; you won't believe in all this Santa Claus Easter Bunny stuff either, for the most part. All that matters to me right this minute good folks, is that I totally know that it is all the truth, and that I have made it all a public record, cleverly of course; but it's up here now, and screw the results, Aunt Tea, as I expect things to get worse, trees, burning bushes, and barking wolf WOLF wooolves. Well, now that I've committed literary suicide, let me end tonight's lesson with this little finish line, that won't explode at least, well, not in your face, maybe mine. Herby Letts, David Selby, and Lifeguard Albright, all know what this little squib is about. If you had helped me Herby, you stick, things would have been so different, and there are no trillion words to tell it. I may be joining Adrian Donna Summer without needing the F-6/10, but here goes, Brad Ice. There is no way McGuire would do all of this, to his own cousins as well as to me, the father of one of them, if it was not all about saving something on a cosmic scale. This family is a cosmic family, many folks in WASH-DOC totally know this is the truth. There were those who tried to bring this out around the time before my midlife crisis took hold, and nobody even remembers it, like the magic of 10-SC Avenue, only it was done with ETTOS, and without the Illum Club, and broadcasting networks; as they could not legally get these sound waves, and the gods only know what else out there; to effect the entire mass populations. Now let me shut the Jamaican truck up, Professor Jackson, and Shorty Gong MacInvondi; before the entire planet is struck with a moon size meteorite, lovely Miss Tessmocker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Good night and pleasant dreams, Ann Reese and Bobby Witherspoon; and many many many others. I have nothing against anyone, so do not take it personally that I got off of the 'FACEBOOK'. I have no time for childish games. I am not 16 years old forever and ever and ever. AHA AHA MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jesus Christ, where is my talking treadmill? I've got some weight to take off, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Don't make me sick mommy, & future L&O-SVU-TV!
MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER XLVIII
Thirty five minutes past 8 PM-EDST, on 16 APRIL, 2013, TUESDAY EVENING
THE GREATEST FISH IN THE WHOLE DANG BAY, HAS SOME MORE TO SAY, FOLKS, ON THIS CHAPTER, LISTEN UP, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO.
First off, my grassmole nabes are not only annoying, but I have forgotten about something they did to me, and have been meaning to blog it for six weeks or so now, give or take. Somebody is playing with my mind and memories, sounds like McGuire is in town, 'K-MART of Fort Pierce'? Hay, opposite the highway where they are, is indeed, another Tennessee Avenue. I mean as Sir Lenny Briscoe might chime in here, “But still”. Lots of hollering and in and out, and strange grit as well. I got off of the smelevator today after coming home from some errands that YOU WILL MOST DEFINITELY BE MADE PRIVY ABOUT. It is beyond smother shmucking glass major, ladies and gentlemen; and 'whatever' else is out here. Aniwho, I got off the elevator, & there were two elevators, and I was in the area of these 2 elevators, as all seven floors have the halls leading down to apartments on the west side, and also, the east side; and there is a lot more to the story than this, or New York City. 'AHA AHA AHA', oh Mister 'MMCN' (Mike McNulty) of autumn times in 1971!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before I do get into it, this is another super BOTBAR DAY, and many powerful negative slit glass things all culminated together to cause it, but all things considered; these 'lulu botbar days' of April so far, are not in any way a comparison or a contest to the ones in March, by this time here in center month. On top of this knit, it was very humid and fairly hot, mid eightyish, feeling 100, at least to brother ducking me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Truck you, adding 'ISH' to the 80, was acceptable when I was growing up, or shall I say, in the fracking runt beating universe I used to live in, as boy has this been a CROSS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I used to sort of wonder, then wonder a bit harder and stronger, but no more. This is not where I used to live, before the greatest fish in the bay CROSSED OVER THE GREAT ACADEMY OF THROATS, or WHATEVER; Congressman Robert, old pal, and SIR!!!!!!!!!!
This is not where I used to live, before the greatest fish in the bay CROSSED OVER THE GREAT ACADEMY OF THROATS, or WHATEVER; Congressman Robert, old pal, and SIR!!!!!!!!!!
This is not where I used to live, before the greatest fish in the bay CROSSED OVER THE GREAT ACADEMY OF THROATS, or WHATEVER; Congressman Robert, old pal, and SIR!!!!!!!!!!
This is not where I used to live, before the greatest fish in the bay CROSSED OVER THE GREAT ACADEMY OF THROATS, or WHATEVER; Congressman Robert, old pal, and SIR!!!!!!!!!!
This is not where I used to live, before the greatest fish in the bay CROSSED OVER THE GREAT ACADEMY OF THROATS, or WHATEVER; Congressman Robert, old pal, and SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The contents of this blog focus on quality, not quantity. It will not be ten trillion words in length, but it will do its share of hard punching, so if you are not in the mood for this, hit the “NEXT BLOG” button right now, thank you. First off, I will tell you why the STOCK PLUCKING MARKET SHOT WAY UP AGAIN TODAY, and probably placing it now over the big 15,000 point mark. It is because, once again, I WAS SCREWED IN A MUSIC DEAL. Again, I tried to get some help posting my “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER” song, the full song, not the harmony track, up to my account at the web address http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so what the truck else is new? This is all just a tiny miniscule lather fracking part of why our former POPE, came almost to the door of the home, owned by Judge Frank Raso, on Middle Road, back up in Hammonton, New Jersey, USAESMWG. He also owned many others, including the rooming-house on Central Avenue, in town there, where the King family was renting and living in before we all moved in together at 65-A Middle Road, Your Eminence. Before we hop on over to the hub, yes there are interesting things that never ever have been discussed, and or blogged; such as the initials being yet ANOTHER MILLIONTH COUNCIL coincidence, moving from Council Central Avenue, to Millionth Middle Road, right Mary Carter McVeigh Paint Company, AHA AHA Mister McNulty from '71?????
Hay, the name of this blog is not Resorts International Hotel and Casino, or Donald Rottenslob Trump, no sir; it is Morianity Part Five, Chapter Forty-Eight. My opinion of the entire Lambrigg Cult, CUZZ, you and all the rest of this gang of grit from plucking hell, is 'thisssssssssssssss', Mizz Luccisnakes, mah'm:
Inward snort, exhaled gross out throat sound, 'thueey'!!!!! Filthy thieving garbage, with a lot of awards on their wall, and endless egos in their mirrors; don't do a lot for me. In fact; they don't do one blessed thing for me, and never did. Why you ever wanted to join this scum bag gang from hell, PP, is beyond my limited intellect, and I'll openly ducking stunt admit 2 it, YO. Now I need to move this along to the events of the day, beginning with the grassmole at the 'smelevator'.
I got off one of the two elevators and so did a lady with me who was speaking to me about how hot it was, and how slow these elevators travel; and when we got off, we just finished up our talk, as she is on the east hall or wing of the building, and I am the far west apartment facing the north side. Before I go on, I need to thank my wonderful beautiful LIGHTNING GODDESS, for coming over to visit me again the other day; bringing her awesome scrumptious bolts of gorgeous electron channels in the skies out beyond the windows of my crummy little PHA apartment, lighting up everything with unfathomable color, and beautiful fractal patterns; all CG, no ribbons. Aniwho, back to the magicians trick at the smelevator. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my dirt bag nabe across from me was just there with this lady and me, only he did not get off of either our elevator, or the other one, or Ida seen it. We were standing right there, and yet, I moved a few yards, and there he was; right at the other smelevator; only it never came up to the floor and opened, or if it did?????? So was I 'McGuire'd', AGAIN (ETTOS-MIND-HACKED)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(ELECTROMAGNETIC THOUGHT TRANSMISSION AND OMISSION SYSTEM)
MIND HACK ETTOS INC.
Now, there is more to this, but remember, I am coming in at this point, so the stuff I have yet to tell you about while I was out, is still all coming. I merely want this typed so I will not be McGuire'd into forgetting again and again to tell something, that what I first open with about these nabe-scum, follows, and all pertains to music, computers, and the Dell Security Guard who was supposedly going to help me with my stuff once, and by help, I was not going to ask for a freebie, I would have handed him 50 bucks for doing maybe three hours work, and down here in Fort Ghetto Pierce, that is a prize to be taken and then run with; not ignored and spat upon, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is the son of these people, who is not supposed to come here, by order of some court or something. I do not know the story, and it's none of my stick chewing business. All I know is that he appeared literally out of nowhere like many of my POP-UP and SEND-BACK entities have done ever since this all started in this new universe for me, when I awakened into it on the morning of smother ducking August 15, 1986. I never saw him before today, and I only was told of him by Debbie, my Resident Manager. He walked ahead of me until we got half way to our location at the end area of the hallway, or almost, as there is one more unit on his south side, and opposite of that on my side is the stairwell. He then stopped and waved me to go around him, and I did, but he then walked on, and into the apartment across from me, as I already instinctively knew that he would. This is not psychic power. It is from living through 27 years of this plucking horse slit now, since 08/15/86. You go through enough of this dirt bag WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE bullslit, and U-2 will become super trucking sensitized, to all of their little annoying tricks, and stupid “MY” parlor games!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So chop off my head, make me go dead, and 'TAKE-1', BREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or should I have said, © Office up in WASH-DOC, YO???????????????????? AHA, AHA, AHA, AHA, MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! None of you have a small plucking clue how badly I want to just go full blast right now, and dang all of the fruyucking glass consequences; really telling gargantuan slit, and all that can be backed up with real verifiable grit, that you can all go up and see for yourselves. Hay, trust but verify, I get that. I am all for that, and yes, I PREACH THAT; so when I do tell you something, I will want you to verify it all, and I will provide you with the reliable sources of information so you indeed can go and check it out, without leaving the comfort of your high teck new universe, smart device, whatever it may be. Do it from your little glass phone in the shkit stall of a public washroom, for all I give a mitt huffing heck, YO! Any-ha, moving this still onward, let us go back into time now, in this 'STM illusion' of course, and begin with my walking out of the apartment door early this afternoon, good folks. I went to another library where I was told to go, and was treated shabby, and left within one minute. They even hassled me for having a ducking lolly pop in my mouth. Hay, maybe it's going to explode, Mister Ridge, SHEEEEEEEEEEOOOOT. If you are out here Mizz Marge Leo, please, please, cut me a fruyucking break, will-ya'????????????????
'Okay', so 'here's the shkituation', Mister Parklots Atlantic City John King non King Dark Shadows 1969 Johnny, nor Mz Joan 'Johnny 5-D Bennett, of Fort Pierce, Flowerland-USA, and also, Inspector Henderson, Superman, and Mister Daily Planet's fictional news-reporter, Clark Kent; from somewhere back around the year of 1957: The months of January, March, and May were all much much worse than those other 2 even numbered months this year, February, and April. There were 10 solid major horrible BOTBAR-DAYS in all 3 of those ODD-NUMBERED MONTHS SO FAR IN THIS 2024 YEAR OF HELLISHNESS, YO YO YO YO YO! Is there some logic 2 this, mathematically and fundamentally, quoting all great technical charting expert analysts all over this world??????????? Well there may B some ultra complex math systems 2 get into later on, and 4 right now, how about taking no 4 a quicker answer on that score; thus moving right straight into the 2nd part of that 2-part query here, me' good folks? It has quite a bit 2 do with the actual fundamentals here, using the terminology of the technical charting experts. When I cross those don't snitch on us or else Mountainpen U pile of dirt stench sleaze U, this is when they punch and they punch hard, and just as we all hear on the news now since 'D-J-Trump' through his dang glass hat into the political ring, in middle late 2015, 4 the office of the presidency; and we've all heard the 'media peeps call him', “A PUNCHER”, and he is one, and a dirty one, as he would wait 4 someone 2 turn his back, then kick him hard right in his kidneys, drop him; and then kick his teeth down his throat 2 choke on, as I've been choking since 1983, from me' home in fat blow, NO JOY Jersey, all beginning with or without monster glass tune movies on television at half past ten at night on June 4 days that go beyond Nat King unforgettable Cole!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now I did report to these blogs, that I cannot e-mail Debbie Marotto any more. I did not say I can't go into her office on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; if I need to. AHA, MMCN. Anyway, to repeat the music stuff, only two songs will cause some bizarre planetary surface activity, if viewed enough, and sent through enough electronic circuits; these two posts being, 'WANNA' SPEND MY TIME', and 'LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS'. Even the greedy fisherman song is not transdimensional. I have tape recordings of my daughter at fourteen while she was off playing lab-technician in her 'sleep', up in both 1984 and again in 1986. She is the one with incredible abilities, but then world, is this something I need to preach and arm twist to anybody? How many Mariah Carey's are there, for heaven's sake, literally? Now as the time stamp date reflects here, this was 11 years ago when I said this on the BOM. Now, after last year's Mowry nightmares and boat rental lake house deals where he turned the volume all the way off in the car while I was listening 2 that song, it has indeed become a semi-transdimensional song, and allow me if U all will, 2 further explain me'self here, with that additional non-Kathy-Cody-'O', 'SEMI' word, if ye' pweeeeeeeeeeeeeze: There is 'FULLY transdimensional' and SEMI transdimensional', and so what is going down here, all of U great Bufferin head scratchers out there???? SEMI is that the tune did not originate from ONE OF MY WILD DREAMS, but from right here, in that I completely made up that 'GITYA'-later turned 'greedy-fisherman' song, as much as anything can truly ever B MADE UP BY ANY PHYSICAL HUMAN BEING. FULL however means that this song actually came from the 'dream-world', using the more mortally accepted human word and Morianity calls this a song from a parallel reality, as all dreams R nothing more than our energy (our spirit) endlessly traveling and traversing the 5th dimensional hyperspace system!!!!!!!!!!!! As all who read Morianity, and the 'BOM' know fully well here, the song from 1983, and later made into (re-made) the 2013 production called, 'YBCO' when it is title-initialed here; is from THIS WAKING WORLD, and absolutely unlike the other song on that 2013 musical project, heard by me in an alternate realm back in the year of 1997, or where my body was asleep in this world's calender-system of the 1997 year anyway; and sung by the dreaming double from some alternate reality, and some alternate atomic twin of the great artist whom here we all call, Mariah Carey. Hey, I am naught responsible 4 what happens 2 me in dreams, any more than anyone of U out there would B. But bear one item in mind, folks, pweeeeeeeeeeeeeze, YO!!!!!!!!!! In 1997, I never ever was thinking one little tid bit thing about Patty and Merry, or (MC) and mommy, in other words; so Y did these dreams all begin 2 happen 2 me? That is truly the $64-K question, and anyone naught allowing me that fact, is just plain out mean; whether U-B male or female, and the great Linsey Lohan needs 2-B taking lessons from U, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn't intentionally bring ANY OF THIS NONSENSE ON ME'SELF, PEEPS, U twuwee must believe T-H-A-T!!!!!!!!!!!
That ole' ever twustworthy failure 2 underline hack just nailed me at 3 minutes shy of 7 AM on this first June morn of 2024, YO folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now this is a cleaned up and retyped copy without all of the typos, written and blogged on the first day of 2008 summer, June 21. This is just the final part of this blog, showing a major trip through time, with my son in law, who I did not even know from Jack and Jill at this time. All of this was flooding in at me, and new to me, at this time. WAYWINY, MIKE MCNULTY, OLD 1971, SEMI-PAL??????????????????
Over the weekend, I watched the huge party that Philadelphian's were all celebrating, with blimps all over, and major cheering. I was in a major interaction with strange persons, a tall thin well muscled young black male, about age 25; and we had been traveling to Boston, MAUSAESMWG together, and were put up in a very weird and bizarre hotel overnight. He had some good friends that were on the New York Knicks Basketball team, that were gonna' help me in some way in proving my horrific and monstrous dilemma and plight. It was so real that I could feel the raw cold in the room towards late October, and then the manager of the hotel turned up the heat. A strange clock, and a strange telephone in the room, that we had been placed in; had a strange interaction with each other. Someday, I will tell the entire long and wild story, and include the strange road on the wild ride home, only not 2 any home or place that makes any sense now 2 my waking world brain and memory system. But the raw cold and the nice heat, were more real and tangible than any feeling of temperature on body or skin in the waking world. Then on the ride home, I saw the blimps that were over the Delaware River all written with things, such as 'Phillies 2008 World Series Champions'. This was a wild and far out “DREAM” pal.
YEAH, SOME 'DREAM' PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A TIME TRIP 31 DAYS INTO THE FUTURE, AND HALLOWEEN DAY 2 BOOT! Where R-U when we need U, James Tiberius Burr, of all secret diner meetings in Voorhees multiverse existor Township, in NO-JOY-ZEE-USA, oh SIR???????
I did tell back sometime late last year (2023), the entire deal with the road trip back home; and meeting the great & wild mind crushing ATLANTIC CITY ALCHEMIST, as I have come 2 personally label him, after many years passed since our meeting, on Ziggy's Beach, in middle 1974 somewhere, YO world. Obviously in the alternate reality that my doppelganger lived in there, I was in tight with that alchemist dude, as well as me' no good son in law monster glass tape deck describer, huh there Mister DEEZY non-Dizzy-AIR?????????????? Another failure 2 make an underline hack, this time at 9 past freaking 7 AM me' great peeps aldare, YO BRAH!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION.
No comments:
Post a Comment