NAGA-SAGA OF MARK MOUNTAINPEN MUDD, 1983-2024, CHAPTER 00027
Quarter shyah 9 PM, Friday night, 20 September, 2024, here in Fort Pierce Flowerland-USA, and AKA SUNNY-FLORIDA in PARADISE, HA-HA-HA-HA-HA, and TEE-HEE-HEE Mizz Lilly Welder Munster, oh lovely Mizz DeCarlo, mah'm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Approximately 10 minutes ago at 10-38 in the ''ICE-T-PEEP-EM'', my WORD OFFICE PROGRAM SYSTEM did another major, and 4 absolutely no futhermucking goddessdog reason, C-R-A-S-H!!!! I now am on the system with the internet so-called connection Comcast-Modem disengaged, disconnected, and keeping me hopefully, a wee tad bit less discombobulated here, YO world.
Is anyone that reads this nightmare blog straight from ''MY ETERNAL TRUE ADDRESS'', aware in even the slightest teensy weensy wee tad bit, that MAGNETIC PERCENTAGES 4 BOTBAR, as well as Magnetic Percentages in any and all things in cosmos and human life existence as well, is all 100 percent absolutely 'mathegodamatical', 2 use a brand new Morianity-created word today???? Let us quickly now engage the topic of this MP4B and applying the science of magnetic percentages, 2 the item that the MOUNTAINPEN labels (extremely horrible days) and AKA, B-O-T-B-A-R-S! Through this entire year of 2024, HALLS MAGICAL OR 'WHATEVER-ANDREWS' FAWCES & AKA 'THE FORCES', R bound and determined 2 keep me, with an invisible and totally covert intellect seemingly all behind the deed; at a ratio of 1-4, remember that my SPELLCHECKER and correction system will naught allow me 2 write in the (:) symbol here shown in-between the parenthesis, without those red correction wavy squiggly lines, and then when trying 2 add the word into its dictionary, the program insists on CRASHING, and naught permitting me 2 do it, so I know of no way 2 stop this junky nonsense on this piece of junk 2010 old desk-top CUMPUKEHER system, other than 2 go 1-4, rather than the 1 (:) 4, which is the correct and true way of mathematically expressing a RATIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And no, naught a RATION, nor any great fantastic SORIAN number 18 QUERIES from tests taken by the MOUNTAINPEN in order 2 maintain me' employment, in where else one day, but the north shores of the world renown ATLANTIC CITY, NJUSAESMWG, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!! And now back 2 the ratio of BOTBARS, and that being none other than one out of 4 days, or (1-4). All anyone, from bright-bulb super smart all the way 2 SDIQ-CLUB lower intellectual ranges; can C without all that much squinting and straining, that a 1-4 RATIO in 2024, has shown itself, and there is no way 4 it 2 seemingly correct, even 2 worsen, let alone 2 ever fracking glass improve, BRAH. The months can close out on their final days at varying figures, but when all averaged out at end-year, and end-game; and I SAID GAME, and I did mean 2 say 'END GAME'; the magnetic insistence of being right there at 24-25-26 PERCENT, would stand up and grab anyone's attention, other than those refusing 2 accept reality. Anyone can lose a vote or an election, even by a landslide of 99-1, and still, insist and even completely believe that they won, with me distant cuzz being a prime NON-AMAZON example here, only yes, those chocolate cakes R beginning 2 show, CUZZ, better keep hitting the G-course, YO BUD!!!!!!! Still, me' Archie Bunker 'PERNT' here, is ''vely vely vely'' simple; Mister FCC future Chairman from 1972's Cooley Hall, and me' classmate, Bob McDowell; is as follows here: Just what is this magical force, that the mighty fictional Hollywood movie makers and SYFY creators back around those 1977 'Mars Graphics Printing job and Sarah Callio marrying mobster Martino times', that remains endlessly covert and invisible, surfacing only in the wildest movies of FICTION; and naught only WHAT is it, but just Y would such a powerful force (HALLS FAWCES) discussed so often in these BOM-BOB BLOGS; care and go 2 so much unfathomable and inconceivable endless unrelenting attention 2 do all of this, & expending one major gargantuan and HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE amount of its energy as well? We all know that there is no rational nor any type of really good answer here, and we also know, that vely recently, IN THIS AWESOME NIGHTMARISH 2024 YEAR, the MOUNTAINPEN has discovered just what this ever wild and continuously elusive answer MUST B, and so reminding those who ain't caught up with all of this as of yet, that answer is simple and horrible, and it is as follows: MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR IS IN ETERNAL HELL, it never began, nor will it ever end, as it simply astrally EXISTS, as does all ENERGETIC-TRUTH, told 2 us both in power house scriptures as well as already proven mathematical formulas, such as E/T=P, and without this, we would have no global electricity, as the phenomenon would simply not B able 2 exist upon our planet, the EARTH!!!!!!! My problem right now is in a few easy 2-C and realize pieces. First off, the mighty COOLEY HALL EDUCATOR named Mister David Leigh Smith, recognized this 4 himself without one wee tad bit of help from me or anybody else, and even B-4-I me'self ever came 2 C or realize any of this. This HALLS FAWCE, whatever it really and truly is, wants first and foremost, 2 KEEP ME ENDLESSLY ISOLATED from others. With its awesome and mind busting powers and abilities, it really ain't all that difficult a task 4 it 2 perform, and smart peeps know this, even the great movie creators, such as gorgeous white hot Mizz Jennifer Hewitt, with her wonderful television show called, 'Ghost Whisperer'. There was an episode about a stalker who was harassing a young woman by ther name of Colleen. I forget the name of the episode, and it was on one of the earlier year-seasons of this awesome TV-show. It proves 2 me that the junk that is behind all of this hellishness, is indeed known not only 2 all of my enemies out there, the WSMT subskummites, but also, 2 anyone with half a brain, and a non-closed up mind, such as the vast majority of LE system peeps, unfortunately, all indeed R completely guilty of having. But keeping this on point, and I admit without any tiny qualms nor trepidations here, that I ain't no professional writer, merely an unfortunate person with one Dogtown of a mighty and wild tale 2 impart 2 this diseased whittle EARTH-PWANET!!!! Yes, Dave Smith from COOLEY HALL indeed recognized 4 himself, that it appeared as if some invisible 'whatever' thing, was intentionally surrounding me with agenda and motive, and this being, 2 keep me perpetually isolated from everything around me, and making peeps all feel the way that they do towards me, and 4 absolutely no good nor rational reason, at least 4 the vast majority of the time, 4 no reason. I do admit tha tafter I am given enough hellishness, sure, I am human, and I start 2 lash out at the world, but who can look me in my face and truly say 2 me tha tit ain't deserved? After my ideas, my music, and my whole life was stolen, even my own goddessdog daughter was taken away from me, and by my own so called 'loving mother', and I am supposed 2 sit here loving this and loving those whom did all of this 2 me? U 'gadda-B' totally nutso-5000, YO!!!!!!! Still, I told the story in a rational honest way concerning the COOLEY HALL, concerning the farm outside of town in the area called Voorhees just a few miles 2 the east of historic Haddonfield, later 2 become the ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS (RHA) 4 SHORT, and I went onto tell about the 1970 stay at the seashore at Mister Reale's home on Cornwall Avenue, the WASHCLOTH FAMILY of nightmares, the mind breaking 'DARK SHADOWS-TV-SHOW' connections with places, names, and even the events and situations all tied up together in it all, and on and on and on I can go here, and U all know this, U in the dang FBI, and or anyone out there, even my ole' wannabe-pal, President Pennsylvania-loving, Joseph Robinnette Biden!!!! Now I could type on and on and I want 2, but 4 right now, that little voice that usually gets everyone 2 hate me and keep me continually endlessly perpetually isolated; is telling me 2 cool it,m and just 2 end this here 4 now, perhaps picking up on this stuff later on either this weekend or beyond that as next week comes in!!!!
END TRANSMISSION.
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