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TEST THE SPIRITS, BACK IN 2008, OR EVER

August 31, 2012

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             TEST THE SPIRITS AS SHE SAYS 2

‘TEST THE SPIRITS, AS SHE SAYS 2’ T/T/W/M, etcetera subtitles 2 BLOG 5 on BDCWS Datfile: 093008.623.55 ——- Begin Transmission:
Well, I drove Ann over 2 Wal-Mart 4 a few whittle items at just past 2 this afternoon on the east coast of America time, and a nasty CHEMTRAIL was right there 2 greet me, all ready knowing that I was about 2 drive over there, they obviously hear all that is said in a car, at a workplace, at a residence, and I believe as did Timothy McVeigh that microchips R Milituforce PLANTED right into people, the agent in the project that is so black ops it cannot B discussed, merely walks by the person 2B implanted and has a tiny tool similar 2 Doc MC COY on Star Trek’s original show, or a similar little thing, hay, stuff from this original Star Trek has long become totally outdated and obsolete, such as TAPED-MUSIC, “Mister President Lincoln”, so think how far the MILITUFORCE is so high over what we can even dare 2 want 2 know and imagine. Those that know, know that I speak dangerous deadly truths. If they wanna’  keep pouring on this harassment, I will keep right on counterattack-fighting-back. I am not some geek in a high school, who simply intends 2 wussy-pussy out, and go crying to daddy and mommy, it ain’t happening, bright colorful lawns there, BRO. Yes, all ready, the Queen King came in, and asked me something about the trip when her mom Ann and I were out at the great Sam Walton’s place. I want 2C if I can get this posted, and finished, by 30 minutes prior 2 closing bells; as if I do not; I’ll B stopped from posting it until after the markets R closed. Free country? Where is Mo, and Larry, and Curly, when U really need them; bing, zong, goonk in the eye? Being sorry 4 not implicitly trusting my great Teen Queen is one thing, and I am; and now I do trust her, as I know U have some fantastic plan in all of this, that as of now; shrouds me in total mystery, great Mariah, but I am angry nonetheless at the filthy diseased LAMIST/ BRIGGERS/MILITUFORCERS, 4 forcing me 2 endure their evil rotten wrath and destruction, of my innocent and totally pathetic life; when I did nothing ever even close 2 deserving this outlandish and twisted infinite hell, other than being born in this cursed family line 62 generations down directly, from a brother of the great SAR Jesus. I cannot let all the cats out of the bag that I wish 2 right now, it would not B a bit healthy on my part should I in fact do so. I however, am able 2 say and blog this much. Scripture says that lovers and believers in the All Mighty SAR, or LORD, adding the AH makes this word go from masculine into feminine in the original Aramaic Hebrew language, should always TEST THE SPIRITS, 2C if they come from Diana’s brother Apollo-Lucifer or from the Upline Teen Queen that I know 2B Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Karge Krassle, asleep in her own thought wave, dreaming she is All Mighty Goddess Scylla, U would simply shorten and abridge all of this 2 the word, GOD. I am testing many spirits, but how R they 2B tested, some of U may in fact now B inquiring??? If the situation being examined disagrees with the ten commandments and the basic principles found in the King James Version or KJV or the ‘HOLY’ and ‘whole complete’ total idea and mind, of this great book and its words; then your message is not from any source other than your own deluded mind, which in some cases as it is all from the 6th dimension, merely comes from your own systems of thought, and in rarer cases, it is a direct result of interference from ETTOS-TECK, from the mighty wicked demonic Briggbase residents, or the evil Lambrigger Cult, SATAN THE DEVIL, put Biblically in the time period of less knowledge and spiritual wisdom of the combined humankind, as exists presently. When I know 4 a fact that Satan the Devil hates me and desires 2 keep me down and oppressed, poverty stricken, homeless, friendless, and loaded with endless enemies, with poor health, persecution, conspiracies 2 wipe me out on a daily basis, and on and on; I must conclude that when a cat gives me a winning number that if I had played as the cat told me 2 play, Gawky Gaukauk that is, back near this time 28 years ago in the inverted digital ‘80 year; I would have made lots of money, and again, this is not the intentions nor the goals of Satan the Devil, 4 me 2 prosper in any way ever, in this material world. So Lottery-Cat, GG, is not part of Satan’s kingdom when U run the TESTING OF THE SPIRITS. On a later and future blog, other examples, both where it was Satan, as well as SSJKK; was determined by indeed, using biblical command, obeying HER mighty words 4 us frail humans; and testing these spirits.

 

 

 

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 back young 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 Nicks 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 the blimps that were over the Delaware River were all written with things, such as ‘Phillies 2008 World Series Champions’. This was a wild and far out “DREAM” pal.

 


In closing, the main reason that BRIGGERS hate me, is that I would have been able 2 defeat their wickedness against me, and in my own strength; and breaking a Lawtronic/Biblical rule/LAW. This is when I was taught by ‘lightning’, from my bathtub in Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG, how 2 use applied PE 2 the game of Roulette, or how 2 use the APE-2R, as she laughingly described it 2 me when I fell asleep that afternoon in a nice warm early spring bath tub, in my apartment, called the ‘HIGHVIEW‘. Things R soon going 2 explode huge hyper time with Dawnie Terra the terrible, and some incredible thing will eventually transpire in this marvelous scary and far out MARHOUSE. Don’t get all excited there late Merv Griffin/Pipe, along with your advertising gang, coincidence, just chalk it up 2 that, right? HA!!!!!!!!! Mervelous Merv, and Marvelous Marhouses, all not withstanding; let me now C if Satan the Devil, will let me post this blog up B4 the closing bell on their cheated and controlled fixed Dow Jones, SEC??
BYE-BYE all, 4 now. I will C Y’ALL LATER ON FOLKS, WHAAAAAA ELMER FWUDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 12:40 PM

Labels: ALIENS AND UFO SUPERNATURAL DREAMS MILLIONTH COUNCIL BERMUDA TRIANGLE, government persecution in league with MILLIONTH COUNCIL. millionth council and bermuda triangle

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Post a Comment Hello up here, it is nearly four years in the future, WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

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SO IS THIS TIME TRAVEL, NICK, OR ARE YOU WHAT I ACCUSED POOR DONNA OF?

 

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About Me, in case you care, but why would you when my story is so far beyond what my favorite color or food or song, that is beyond nonsense to me while in this ridiculous life and hell. Hope your life turned out better than mine did, Katy Queendairies.

 

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theansweristheqyuestion
Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness

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Profiles, right, like that is ever going to tell the real total truth about anything, folks?

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FCC BOB MCDOWELL, HACKING IS CONTINUOUS SIR ON ALL SITES, YO

August 31, 2012

Peeps, go to the following website and read my repost, this site will not allow it, and even the blogger site will not allow any other stuff, this is not the home of the free and the land of the brave or the opposite way or whatever, it is a fixed wealthy person owned system that violates and stifles my freedom of speach, ALEX JONES, why won’t you help out your friend, Alex, I give your stuff lots of plugs, I am in trouble with the owners of the planet, and I NEED YOUR HELP, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You all need to click to this address, and do it yesterday, YO.

 

http://www/theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/ and as the carny circus peeps would yell this out, HURRY–HURRY–HURRY, as we speak our fereedoms are being bombed like skyscrappers, YO!!!!!!!!

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0526 AND FINAL WORDPRESS POST EVER!!!!!!

August 25, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0526

KINGNOTHINGTEASEDANDPERSECUTED

24 AUGUST, 2K12, 8:12 PM-EDST

 

BEGINNING OF THIS BLOG:

 

 

I am having a rotten day, not super BOTBAR, but there are banging door neighbors, there are many FIRE ALARMS to frikkin’ deal with as this is back on a roll, and are one right after the other today, and persecution is ever ongoing.

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll be talking to my favorite GAGA-CAT later, about all of this, for now, you need to know all my questions, or the answers, this is my own concern, for now.

 

 

 

 

I am all packed up, there is just my bed here. All else except for the computer is all put away. I will be taking down all of my YOUTUBE GARBAGE later on over the frikkin weekend. I most likely will be taking everything that I ever posted down as well, shortly, from Mexico. Several things I like about Mexico, two in particular are that my disability money monthly payout is around ten grand a month in their valuation monetary system, for most items, excluding housing. Then there is my strange Doctor Carey situation that all began on the night of June the 4th at 10:30 PM, back in good old 1983, when else? After-all, when it’s not 1886 or 1980, it usually is a good bet, it is something about an event in 1983. No, we will not be forgetting the years of 1969 or 1994, still; they come n a weak second to 1980, 1983, and 1986, strange too folks, as they space apart by exactly 36 months, AKA three years, TEE HEE HEE, Lilly Andrews Munster Shipyards Antigrav.

 

Yes this was not a good week, I 9was picked on a lot, because these filth bags were not happy with their twisted evil stock markets. When they keep hurting me, the parallel event will eventually push up their filthy rotten evil empire, and the capitalist swine pigs that run, own, and control it all and us all, and don’t bet heavy against what I’m telling you, my good folks, it comes straight from gods lips and lands right on your ears, right here and right now, with or without any monster-ass recordings made by some very unusual recording systems, that I managed to put together, back in my past. I am totally compelled to do this, sorry, WOW, WOW, & WOW.

Let me go over to the K-Mart now for a new watch, again. BYE.

 

   ***ENDING THIS BLOG: WHAAAAAAAAA.***

POST SCRIPT:

 

MAJOR FUCKING COMPUTER HACKING, FBI, LOCAL GONGRESSMAN, FCC AND MY PAL BOB MCDOWELL, IT IS THE WORDPRESS SITE, FIRST THE INVALID SCREEN AND THEN THE ENTIRE COMPUTER GETS FUCKING HACKED, I WILL FUCKING SUE THESE BASTARDS IF THIS FUCKING SHIT DOES NOT STOP VIOLATING MY CIVIL RIGHTS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE ARE YOU AGENT STEVE CARUSO OF AUSTIN, FBI, TEXAS, YO?????????????????????

 

 

 

THIS WILL BE MY LAST EVER WORDPRESS POSTING, THEY ARE ON MY LAST FUCKING NERVE NOW, DAWN-MARIE KING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

READ ME AT THIS URL ADDRESS FOLKS, YO:

 

http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

 

THIS IS FUCKING ASS TOTAL 36TH AVENUE BULL SHIT FOLKS!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0525

August 23, 2012

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0525

HALF PAST SIX THIS THURSDAY EVENING

23 AUGUST, 2012

 

START:

 

Enemies gave me a very mean and cruel botbar day since first light this morning. They have no heart, conscience, humanity, soul, or human feelings for another human being, instead, they make Adolf Hitler, in comparison, appear as a saint, a philanthropist, and the next prize winner for being most like Gandhi, Sister Theresa, and founder and chief officer of the biggest charities on the planet.

 

From daylight time on, it was one extremely loud noise after another, rappers outside with their gods awful sounds from hell itself, neighbor door slammer pigs, raised by pigs, and a poison was used to again, mess up my heart rhythm causing nasty arrhythmia’s until I get up and take an extra blood pressure pill, and two Bufferin to thin the blood and let the heart pass it more easily through the body, working less hard.

 

Nightmares were real bad while I slept from about eleven until shortly past four. In one of them, I weighed 300 pounds and could not get any of my clothes on, and could barely even move around. I could not for the life of me figure out how I got so morbidly obese, not that I am not there all ready, but even worse. I may go back to playing the Morianity to the roaches and beyond and into the unconscious collective of humanity, but for now, I wil revert back to some revenge counterstriking with the telling on these blogs, some real heavy major secrets. Before I do, I have reviewed carefully what needs to be done. My entire YOUTUBE garbage will all be coming down soon. I am all through thinking I can send messages through my music, as I am old, and my music is not liked by the modern world, with their animal lust for nothing but hollering ugly words and inconceivably heavy beats, all with basically no melody at all, and this to me is not music, and I refuse to try and write to their new age sick twisted style, so keep it folks, enjoy it, and as my uncles Stuart Huntington Mason said to me in 1983 while visiting my Atco, New Jersey home one afternoon, and we got to talking about some silly thing, “Leave me out of it”. I am getting totally rid of my TV and Cable service, I never listen to radio broadcasting, and my only posts onto internet websites will be the LIFE JOURNAL on my blogs, so I can keep telling about the injustices perpetrated against me by these monster people all over the world all my life, for reasons that as Jim burr said in 1974 and up through about 1990, have to do with powerful family situations and secrets, abnd you know what people, I really don’t give a fuck. I’m tired of this shit, it is old, it is annoying, and I have a life that I wish to get on with, so if you are so bound and determined to stop me from doing so, then know this, you will most certainly have to murder me physically. I am packing up everything in the apartment, and will just vanish one morning soon and nobody needs to know my business, but I am putting this horrible life here in Florida, forever behind, and am heading for South American destinations, never to look back or participate in anything connected with capitalism or America, or music, or my past that comprises any of this junk here over many decades of time.

 

I asked the cat a lot of questions earlier B4I began this blog, and you only need be concerned with one of these numerous GAWNUM QUERIES. I asked why this horrific siege was done to me on this devil number day of 23, as 12 times annually, I face its wrath and disaster producing results? My answer from Kitty cat Gawky Gaukauk was PCN-972; an answer that I tend to receive during some real bad times over the past couple of years here in Florida. Here are some of the MATCH-LIST ITEMS for PCN-972, in my book L-4, and any and all others up here reading these blogs.

LAKEHOUSE

GIANT GIRL

MORIANITY

FIRE DREAM

JANE FONDA

ZERANNISS

 

Now to me, these answers make total and perfect sense, and I do not have the time right now on this blog to go into why, so as to assist you in your own understanding, maybe at a later time I’ll try and do a Johnny Nash and clear things up for you, just nor right now, also not today, no continuing story written in 1977 from my mother regarding her very unhappy experience with her love affair at her office with her horrendous boss, who hailed along with his family, from Chicago, Illinois, also known as (AKA) the WINDY CITY. Certain things will remain, and as promised by Scott ransom type of people, totally endlessly, ‘inescapable’.

 

Right now I will tell a powerful little thing, and then log off and enjoy my chicken and rice and spinach dinner with my television show, “The Mentalist”. The little thing I will tell on this blog, and this will just scratch major stuff that will indeed be continuing on following blog works by this author, has to do with the watching of entertaining television shows, such as, my favorite and greatest law show of all time, even surpassing Perry Mason of the fifties, and that being, the one and only, not Cheerios, but, “Law & Order”. Yes folks, it was there to do its job, and yes folks, it did its job. We all know what’s being said here, or else and PC or not my friends and fiends, you’re riding on the perpetual yellow short bus. No offense, but if you cannot piece Morianity together, even if you don’t believe in it, yes, the term of you and short-bus would have to go hand in hand, there is simply on other way around it, I am truly sorry. Yes, they even took away the single airing of the 3AM show back a few days ago. I was all set to watch it, and POWWOW and Native Cher Bono Americans, off it went, and it did not come back on, sort of like our electrical system after World War lll strikes, it will go off, but it won’t be coming back on, another great old Hotel Kali4nya deal from 1969 and other highly secretive years of the Planet Earth, with or without my favorite Philadelphia football team, miss luscious gorgeous Simpson. For those who may not know it, the final one was not on a Friday, but I believe it was back last Monday, and then off it went just like “DARK SHADOWS”, without so much as an up front hint or clue, not a ghost’s whisper, lovely Jemmy Love Hewitt Sarah Fiveparty. On top of that, the last episode was all about a music rock and roller, and you’ll love this, called C SQUARE. Maybe this gave the top female artist in the world, fifteen years later, the bright idea to do her E=MC SQ project. I learned a lot from that, there were many in-between the lines things to be gleaned from that project, if you are looking that is.

 

I made an error, so what else is new. I told you the blog at www.blogger.com/ telling about the road trip with wonderful Chockerman Lakehouse, that I took after falling asleep, up to Boston, was blogged in October, it was blogged on the 30th and final day in September in 2008, now there were two blogs posted up that day, an early morning one just [past midnight, and then one later on in the day, and it would be on the later one. This is where I see, 31 days before it ever happened, the great 2008 parade on Broad Street in Philadelphia, on Halloween Day, after the Phillies Baseball Club had just won the World Series the previous night, after not doing this for 28 years, with or without KALI and her nightmare and tear causing hell that she has put me through, as per my late 20th century copyrighted song called, what else Diana Ross, but “Mirror-Mirror”. Do you want to know why I won’t tell secrets such as give precise detailed, simple to follow instructions on how to alter reality using the principle of manipulating transdimensional hyperspace? Simple, so simple it bites your prick right off and spits it out into a meat grinder. Only the top controller wealthy world-owners (WO) would make use of ity and probably all ready know of this, and do just that. The other folks would read it, and scoff and laugh, and move onto the next blog and get some more laughs with Sister Nancy-Ann and her adventures at the Vatican. I don’t know which blog you should be getting the most jollies out of in all truth, so I won’t judge you. I merely tell you that I will only tell things that I know that the smaller folks might just be able to make some use out of. I, don’t live for the wealthy mind controllers, who run all our shows, knowing we are all too stupid to even be remotely aware of the situation. I want you to know that something will soon post up that is out of time sequence by close to four years. You really do need to read it, especially one paragraph of it, you’ll know which one when you get there, and then remember, just what I am up against, and why since the age of 20, I think of hardly anything other than how to take my life and be done with it all, and that folks, was nearly 40 dam years ago.

 

I think you are up here Ann king. I remembered something you told me, I never forget anything, it is part of the curse I carry around honey. You said that you kill people that you don’t like with kindness, and this is what you did to me right after I dared to bother the Sheriff of San Mateo County in Kali4nya. Both you and my nosy kid and her friends, all called me within the space of minutes after I made the initial call to tell him of the wild hacking from the 36th Avenue address. What Ann, don’t little nobody people like me have any rights? Don’t we Detective Stabler and Benson, or are you all nobody’s too, getting raped under piers on holidays, and thinking its funny and laughing at my pathetic life endlessly. HA-HA-HA Icabod Crane. Maybe the last laugh I was planning struck a laser mirror and bounced. I can find no other explanation for that incident, oh great US Copyright Office. How do you live with yourself, Ann King? I thought I was your friend. How much did the family grease your PAWM PIE ETTOS, I’m left to wonder and presume, Mizz Livingston Safari?

 

I will wrap up by saying that despite some really bad times recently, my roulette is kicking some powerful monster ass. I will move to the area of the Pompono Casino for a year or two, make a mint, and then get out of this country once and for all, before they totally bury me six miles deep. You’re another real asshole Paul. I miss you and your lies, and your wonderful mood swings and bad company, like I miss a mouthful of abscessed teeth being slow drilled by a dull one with no novy. Good riddance to every one of you. Soon, I’ll be forever OUDDDDDDAHERE, Mister Callas, and if they ever want to find me, then try HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is where I’ll be, Tiny Tim, tiptoeing through the fagot ass tulips, and certainly not with you. I’ll have a heirum of teen babes, and all the money UI need from the casinos over at Humphrey Bolgartville. No not soon to be clocked Key Largo, I mean MC, no, no daughters to worry about either, that is all forever behind me now. Once I close a book on things, an atomic blast cannot be powerful enough to rip it back open, just ask anyone who ever knew me, and how stubborn I can be. Let me end this now, good night good folks and stay well, keep the faith in something, either in morianity or whatever turns your light into brilliant pretty colors. I was never hear to tell you how you should think, only that perhaps, you should think, it does separate you from all other life creatures on this earth you know, only mankind really thinks, don’t let the animal freaks lie to you and tell you otherwise. Where are you when I need you Mister Hefner? Spell checker won’t help me spell the word for a large group of lovely girls, at your service, sexually. I did the best I could. See you in happy land L-4, or in my case, misery cubed, as I will unrelentingly be under the great and powerful non-OZ-Huntington Curse of 2000 years.

 

END, END, END, END, YES, I WISH IT WAS THE END, DUH!!!!!

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0524

August 22, 2012

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0524

2:56 PM-EDST EAST COAST OF NORTH AMERICA

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USAESMWG

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO

 

SHALL WE BEGIN OUR SHORT TWEETYBIRD BLOG:

 

As soon as the opening bell on Wall Street, maybe three minutes at the most past half pas nine this morning, my WOMO MILITUFORCE ENEMIES struck me for what I said on my last blog, obviously, not that MY PHA BUILDING FIRE ALARMS have not gone back on a heavy and major role recently, as they definitely have, but this was a real beauty, and I know the Fort Pierce Fire Company knows that Mister Time Travel Shoebox of the middle nineties, is having a real blast with me, and so do others here in town, despite they’re conscious mind insistence that I ran out of usable pants long ago. Well, the alarms are indeed going off, why would I have any pants left? Still, despite total fucking jerk offs like doubting Paul and many others after all that they personally saw and witnessed with me through many years; it is most hard to argue with even one or two of my many still provable items, the easiest one accessible at the URL of drunkenhive, and then just click to the year 2008, the month to October, and read the blog of the 5th day. Then read the blog on the 31st day on Halloween, Merry Hollister Callas, and have your mind totally blown and oudaaaaahere. I am by no means singling anyone out, but that deal with my Saturn hubcap, the Friendly Restaurant theft in 1995, the storm that followed me back home to Highview and Williamstown, the never ending capital letter hacking when I know I am fucking hitting the SHIFT KEY, yet city and highview never stop coming out and need to be corrected every mother fucking cunt lapping time. Then there is the high school trip, and even telling folks around me that I come from 1997, I had never been to 1997, I existed in 1996, yet was telling folks back in 1968 that I came from 1997, maybe I felt the need to tell them all anything, or one particular girl anyway twenty-five years later. The recent computer hacking is very major. It’s hard posting up, making the mouse work on the internet, not have millions of fucking typo errors despite knowing they were checked and not there, the hackers love to fuck with real word changes as I call them, you’re trying to say that you are in pain, but rain is a real word, and so it comes out on the blog that you are in rain, or in paint, whatever, you get the picture. I can hold the shift  key down all day, Atlantic City, unless I physically look up onto the screen and make sure that the word CITY is capitalized, the WOMIO fucks it up and changes it so I get to fucking look like a stupid short bus tard every time. Then there was 2010 in the summer time. This is when I fell under the hugest siege of all. I had this powerful ass fucking dream that a mean evil old man at the library where I went to blog as I had not yet bought my own computer for obvious financial reasons at this time, and he was messing with me and assaulting me and preventing me from what I was there to do, which was fucking tell my story, IE blog. Sure enough I woke up from that hellish experience, but when I tried blogging after that for many weeks, I was suddenly and mysteriously only able to tweet a few lines on all three blog sites I tried posting to. If I tried pasting anything longer than a few sentences, I got a OOPS PAGE, no explanation, but I knew I was being fucked with by powers beyond our physical world or even our great government and its many black-ops agencies. Only the great all mighty church devil, Lenny McKinnon, now reincarnated into a similar name, taught well by the Summer Club of Maud Huntington Mind Controllers, could pull this off, because it takes TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICES, and without the power of these things, you just don’t end up going from a punky hub cap hammering kid to the wife of a superstar, and with an agenda of messing with me until I am but a skeletal remain. Still even as a teen with a property damaging tool in his hand, his other hand was holding onto something, because how else could he have gotten from Deptford without a car, up in Jersey, all the way to Blackwood, all ready know where I would be stopping to place a telephone call to my mother saying I would be a little late for dinner, as after I left Haddonwood, I had stopped to get a reading by the dude at the psychic shop down the road, called, “The Gathering Place”. Up he comes out of nowhere while I’m trying to speak to my mom on the payphone in 1996, and insists on smirkingly telling me that my hubcap is all messed and banged up, He should know, he fucked it up, the snotty punky son of a bitch. If you don’t like the smirkingly word, then tough fucking beans, Poor Richard, because I’m fucking using it on this blog, Lakehouse Choker. Ann the rock thrower, Joe the car-door leaner, Dawn the lush, Lisa the pants burner accuser, Leticia the riot causer, and Samantha the wannabe rock star, as they say and admit to, “What a family”, huh Kaitlin? Yes there was a strange person at the Lakehouse Party that day in 2009 in Mystic Islands. He pointed his finger at my mouth and told me he would leave me proof that what he said was true, only what he said was never blogged. Right where he pointed to and touched within ever so slight contact above my upper lip just left of the center of my mouth, that very day while at work that late afternoon when I relieved Roy Weiler a little late as per our agreement, began to magically make two fo my front teeth start to just rot out as though they were reduced to chalk. For days and weeks, parts of these teeth kept vanishing, and now I need to jeep a dental cement piece in-between the area or else it is very uncomfortable, and I have no money to fix what was done to me, nor would anyone in authority do anything but laugh at me should I ever try and tell these wild experiences in my life since I went to hell in 1986. All my jerk off neighbors are being controlled and entered by what else, but EXPLORATRONS.The next door shit began with the “Let us make some kind of electronic noise while he is on the computer”, the hall shouters and bangers are outside of my door doing their thing as well, at 3:37 PM. ALSO, THEY WOKE ME WITH A FUCKED UP HEART RHYTHM.

 

 

 

I would ask what else these bastards can do to me, but know better, remembering a great old sixties television show called Bewitched, when Darren Stevens asked his wife that same question, and was given the answer of “The possibilities are endless”. Yes, I have a powerful feeling that I will pack a small bag up very soon, and wonder far away, out of this evil country forever to live in Fiji or some island far away from this horrible evil sick twisted nation and society of true insane sheep, all following the awesome drum that beats the word HELL HELL HELL HELL, yes Harry Callas my friend, forget baseball or how many times WOMO can persecute me through the mighty four winds, I’ll be forever away and OUDDDDAHERE,   so what are any of you monsters going to do after I am gone, mother fuckers, wonder and ponder on that one. For now, MORIANITY can just go play through the open end system and entertain all my lovely roaches.

 

David Smith was right all along you know, “Knowledge with feeling, is power. I have neither, and am totally powerless. This man should win the mother fucking Nobel Prize.

 

My mother’s story will continue on BLOG # 0525, I need to post up and get Morianity started through to the roachphone system of American Telephone and telegraph, AKA the AT&CNT (Chuck Norris), in more ways than just two, in 1983 and 2009, but in ways beyond any blogging safe limits folks.

 

TWEETYBIRD SAYS BYE-BYE, CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP, AND MAY THIS WORLD BE METEOR STRUCK!

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0523

August 22, 2012

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0523

1:10 AM-EDST ON 22 AUGUST, 2012

ONE MINUTE SHY OF JANE SLEAZEWEEDSDISEASE

 

BEGINNING THE BLOG:

 

Diana (lightning) came over yesterday afternoon again for a 7th time, with lovely beautiful ribbons and Cloud-Ground bolt lightning strikes, filled with surreal and fantastic colors, lighting up my very soul. THANK YOU BABY BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Did you know, that if ant group of ten people, observed any event, anywhere and anytime, that they would not be able to tell the facts in full to this event, they would never match up, not if it was more than a black cat entered a small red doghouse and an animal fight seemed to be the result inside or something that quick and simple. This is not because of any existing reason, not by head shrinks or scientists or philosophers, as no two persons can seemingly totally agree on this either, as to the why’s. Now add a videotaping or complete recording of the event. Let each person see the replay after the event took place, and before they are individually asked to give a report of what took place. Still, the same thing would happen. I am perhaps onto a tiny fraction of what is behind some really powerful OZ-curtains, but just a small fraction, not the entire deal by any means, still I will tell a little tiny bit of this on this blog. First I’ll say this much. Anyone can hear a person tell a wild story and all the time they hear the teller of the story insist on its truth and validity, the listener has a various degree of beliefs and doubts, as to the full substance and total of what they are hearing. I challenge anyone to do this, before we go ahead and march on a ways. Without really thinking so hard you sweat, begin with one thing that happened to you, I do not care what, something you said or did, something done or said to you, something you witnessed, or any of many other possible things, but begin with some part of each month, going back month after month, and tell me how far back you get in months or years and months, before you find it difficult to just get one clear thing in your mind from somewhere in any one particular month. Also, tell me you do not have to almost mysteriously wonder, if the other people around you if the item involves a person as it may or it may not, that is up to you; but be sure some of them do, and ask yourself just how you think in your most honest mind, this other person or persons there, at that month, would be perceiving what you are perceiving. These little mind games and mind tricks are indeed done at labs that study the mind, but let me tell you a little bit that you won’t hear there or anywhere, in case you might just be at all interested. Things or events or whatever, are not happening at all, and this is the hugest cosmic illusion of the Virtual Reality game of Waking Life that we all are sharing right now. In this game, we definitely have scoundrels and evil monstrous folks, as well as darn right decent good people. Naturally, the majority are always a group that exists in some magical zone that would exist someplace smack dab in the middle gray range in-between the other extremes. But excluding the most rotten wicked evil few at the mean end of the scale who might just be able to kill their grandmother and laugh, for the most part, we all are trying to coexist in some relative peaceful cohabitant environment in a very weird new global society here in the present times. My life has something that war veterans can all relate to, two things in fact. All though I never served my country in the military, I share these two following items with those who did. One is a lot of traumatic experiences, and the other is not always being able to line things up in a rational time order, where our personality, our life, our very core beingness, altered in one or more ways and at one or more times. I have gone out of my way to show a lot of mindsets over the past five years or so, along with reporting my life on these blogs, by this I simply mean, I will introduce subjects that could possible be related to things I tell and blog about, such as missing time and forgetting things in strange ways and UFO study and all things along these lines, or then I may discuss conspiracy theories or paranormal phenomenon, then Scientificly related topics such as the Quantum Theories and Dynamics. I can, and have, gone on and on, and spoken many things, but all of this, is just to get folks to stop being endless blank tapes, and try and get a few people on the road towards heavy thinking.

 

 

 

 

 

I can only keep trying to put things together, and I am human, I make mistakes, I get moody, I get depressed and angry, sue me for being flesh and blood, I’m sorry. Still, this does not change a thing, these words just tell you that I’ve been walking you all through a lot of wild areas in the hope of getting you to think on a wider ranging scale in general, before we step morianity up to any newer or bigger levels. Anyone looking hard and tagging along next to me, not only would, but I could cite case examples from days gone by, who actually HAVE told me that I am not like anyone they ever knew before in any way, and that rules of normal physics seem to even bend from time to time, around me. Some paraphrased statements made to me from college educated and degreed people, include and are not limited to items such as: You go beyond man and his religion. Before meeting you I could rationally explain anything but with you I am forced to admit that things go on around you that I cannot always explain. What are you into, it is effecting the lives of me and entire world it seems? All three of these things were said to me, one in the nineties, one in the eighties, and one in the seventies, you need not be concerned with more than that for right now. All these people had degrees, they graduated from a good college, and were not fly by night bums living in a building such as I do and living off of public assistance programs. If you think any of this is what I want or ever have asked for, you know me about as well as as you know the next approaching hurricane. If things were all planned before I ever even left High School, and they were; they were just as easily planned before I was even here physically, because the true reality is not physical,and the quantum Physicists all totally know this, it is admitted to, it is on unlimited television documentaries, but it is not something the leaders of the world are hoping that the mass population will start thinking seriously about, so instead, they bombard them with reality shows, talent contest shows, and other entertainment shows of facts and fictions. This was all a totally laid out plan, from the days when Hollywood the great, was BORN. I know this. I had a mother who had a wild so called psychic cousin named Maud Huntington. She knew things. One of those things that she knew, I dared to sing about in a song that I sent to the US © Office in 1986 called, “Rip Off Town”, AND THIS MAY HAVE JUST AS EASILY HAVE BEEN WHAT STARTED THIS ATTACK ON MY LIFE OR ITS WORSENING FROM WHERE IT ALL READY WAS LAYING SEMI DORMANT IN THE FIRST PLACE, AS THAT OTHER SONG FROM THE SAME ALBUM, AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT WAS, ‘RGG’.

 

 

 

 

 

For reasons that no one can ever know, many things happen every day, every hour, every minute, to all of us, I am no different from any other living being as far as that is concerned. As for citing one particular thing that happened to me, just tonight in this PHA Building in Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG, with my next door subwoofer dude neighbor; he gave me a nice personal concert for an hour or so, and then it got quiet, he has not done this in quite a while, so I asked the GAWNUM why this event happened as it did and when it did, and out came PCN-963, and more than ten-thousand good reasons for what is going on, or maybe we can forget the thousand part for now, still, it is still very pertinent, and I need not go on with that. Many wild things are in the wind all around me, but things started to take a shape all its own on Watergate Day, shortly after I decided to redo an old 1983 song called, “Girl, I’ll Tell you Anything”, and make a few changes to it, very minor ones, Mister American Express Goldman Mountainpen Miners, but enough to make me see that stuff I thought I just might be imagining, was not at all imagined, as music and the mind, are two things incapable of having their pants catch fire. Indeed, the great inescapable CALLIO CLAN, is just that, no matter what I do or hard I try, as this is first a world of E, and then later and after, it is a world of M. Even the great New-Age author Mister Castaneda knew this, and wrote about this in his fantastic books back in the nineties. A young fifteen year old does not go down to the seashore to work a summer time job, and end up in a wild series of intra-nightly-dreaming-experiences with a wild family from the so-called future, and then poof, the future has been here now since the days of Approximate Haddonwood Gerard Styles Shadows, of all shades, light and bright, or dim and dark.

 

 

 

 

Now for those not reading these blogs and words at blogger dot com, you need to go back to blog number 0500, found at the URL given below, and re-read the story of my mom that I began to print in sections, as it will continue now on this blog, and be pasted into blog sites where as far as they’re concerned, it seems to just begin here, so go back, and rear it folks. The second URL is to archive older stuff at the blogger site, but use the first address for the newer stuff.

 

http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/

 

SUICIDE, OR WAS IT, BY GRACE EASTMAN MASON—1977.

 

 

 

Once more, overwhelmed with chagrin, I visited my cousin for just the weekend this time. It was such a lovely home, sprawling by the beach overlooking a bay. Again I collected myself to face the future. My only request of him was that somehow he continue to provide transportation to work. I realize now that what I should have said was – “please give me a little time to find another means to commute even if I have to move”. But, at times like this, he was very uncommunicative. He had not even given a reason, nor would he, for this very sudden and shocking change. Upon returning from my trip, I asked my doctor for a prescription for my nerves, and told him why. On the way home from work I picked up the pills at the store.

 

Next morning I met him outside my apartment building ready for work as usual. I managed to get through the day. But, that night there were many buzzes and knocks on my door. I did not respond as I had gone to bed early. When the knocks and buzzes pounded in my ears, I could not go to sleep. It left me little alternative but to answer the door. I did. There stood both man and wife, staring at me. The rest is somewhat vague, but they did come in. I do not recall whether or not I invited them.

 

Not one word did he utter during their brief visit, but his wife talked continuously. She reprimanded me for having gone out with him, even though he had not been home more than three times in the past two years and during which time their divorce was in process. I was at a loss for words. It was too much to bear.

 

Then came the full impact – the second blow which I was not yet prepared to handle. As he sat there with nothing at all to say, she pointed her finger at me and said harshly – My husband is never to take you to work again”.

 

Sometime during all this, he had quickly walked out of my apartment. I do not recall at just what point, or why. Everything became hazy.

 

 

 

 

 

This will conclude the reading of my mom’s sad story about her office romance that went horribly wrong back in the year of 1976.

 

 

 

This will also conclude the blog for today, other than for my making this final little insertion here folks. If I had a silver freaking nickel for every spurious event in the life of me or the close in part of my family, as well as all the wild stuff in the life of other parts of the family that will be endlessly beyond blogger limits, I would be at least a seven figure boy.

 

ENDING THE BLOG: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0522

August 21, 2012

 

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0522

2:04 AM-EDST-TUESDAY-AUGUST 21, 2K12

 

STARTING BLOG:

 

Thank you so much, my wonderful and ever so beautiful, Diana, (LIGHTNING) for coming to see me again yesterday, all afternoon and into early evening, IWALU so very much. Since I am up here thanking my lovely DZA for coning over to see me for a sixth straight time in a week’s time now, let me tell just a small thing that Diana is indirectly involved with, and most meteorologists probably have some way of double checking and verifying what I will now be telling, back around the last two years of the nineteen-sixties, and the weather in the area of Camden and just east of there, in New Jersey, during the lightning summer seasons of those years ending the sixties decade, ’68 and ’69. If not, I’ll bet somebody knows somebody who knows somebody, whatever, who knows and remembers.

 

Before I start telling the story, I promise that very soon, the story within a story about my mother and her office romance that went very south back in 1977 and ties into my life so powerfully, will indeed continue on a shortly to follow blog, this started on blog number 0500 for those not reading these words at blogger dot com. Also, my PHA inspection was yesterday afternoon, talk about a real surprise inspection, as always, they used to occur in the early middle mornings, this was a first since I have resided here for about sixteen months time now. Neighbors since the weekend have been more plentiful, and some of them have been doing some spurious things, but as long as it is not totally annoying me or effecting my life, I could give a rats ass what anybody on this diseased little planet does. That is your business, Morians, Lessians, Inbetweenians, L4, and any others anywhere. You can blow up the dam multiverse for all I care, just so I don’t have to feel any pain, YO.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back in the god dam nineteen sixties, a lot of things went down all over this planet, much of it had nothing to do with me directly, all of it had something to do with all of us either indirectly or directly, but that for now, is neither hair nor there, DAG up in WL. I believed myself around age twenty-five or so, as did and do man y folks in all generations, to pretty much havethe bulk of needed information, making my 1983 song lyrics quite honest and appropriate on my song entitled and copyrighted, called, “657 BLUES”. It began wit the lyrics that went, “I thought I knew most everything, until you showed me the songs we’d sing” and so on and so forth. I did too. With or without the songs, or anyone attached to or in any way pertaining to them, trhe true fact is that like the rest of youthful and totally yet un-lived folks, I HAD NO CLUE. I say all this as a needed base to build a flundation for just a few small needed things that I feel compelled to quickly gloss over and discuss on a surface level today while awaiting my dinner to finish cooking. There was a very wild and strange lovely teen queen by the name of Roseann Delaney, living on the Haddonfield/Westmont border, with only the gods know who, in a strange large expensive home behind a lot of woods and beyond that, a Little League Baseball Park. I would go out after the old television show ended, called, “THE FBI”, starring Ephraim Zimbalist Junior, or however the “Z” name is correctly spelled, and the sun was starting to sink away and out of view. I would let the cat out, in those days, cats for the most part went out to do their potty work and few cats were indoor kitty litter type. Roseann would always come walking along in 1969, about one minute earlier each evening, leaning down to give my cat a little pat, and smiling at me. She was an extremely beautiful and strikingly tall lovely teen queen with long brown hair and lovely brown eyes. Back in April or May, right before my friend Brad Messenger was given an eviction notice, or his mother was, as was my mother, about three days following the final encounter with Roseann, by the Property Manager; a woman named Misses Kinsel, who all of the young crowd despised for being such a mean nasty moody old prude; and this connects into major powerful stuff, peeps. It was after Roseann tried to bite my throat out one night, that I had been given a very short time to get out of there, by this Kinsel lady. Now later in life, through a lot of legwork, I was able to learn that the house where Roseann lived in was indeed a relative of Kinsel. But the plot freaking thickens far deeper and greater. Another relative, of my family, Uncle Snoots, or Heinz Gottwald, was nice enough to help out his wife’s cousin, my mother, and got us a 90 day eviction time, as opposed to 30 days, as he carried a lot of clout in New York City, being the Senior Vice President of the world’s then 2nd top Banking Institution, Chemical National Bank. Now back before all of this shit in early and middle July, a year before the following summer where I was staying at the child molester’s home on Cornwall Avenue in Ventnor, NJUSAESMWG in late June and the first half of July of 1970, Mister Thomas J. Reale, Roseann tried to attack me right outside Brad’s apartment, and was hiding in a clump of large bushes just a few yards in front of the front door steps to his four-unit typical garden type apartment unit system. I lived just a bit in one direction away towards Crystal Lake Avenue right on Pyle Avenue, and he was in the middle area, and Roseann Delaney’s great mansion house that laid just beyond the apartment complex system, was in the other direction on West end Boulevard that became Park Avenue after it hit the swimming pool and tennis court township recreational area intersection, where a mile further down, was my doctor, frank Addiego who went onto save my life in 1983 by prescribing the magical drug that literally saved for life after this mysterious transdimensional medical condition that cannot be further discussed on any blog. For the few wondering if all the things are connected up however, and their imaginations are firing away, you would not be incorrect. It connects up big time, and I cannot reveal the details without getting into a lot of huge ass trouble. Still, at only fourteen, the incident in April or May with the near disaster with Roseann, I was of the opinion that she was indeed a real honest vampire. Later in adult life around the time I was at the recording studio, I laughed it all off and told myself that she was a deluded whack job who probably watched too much of the TV show then aired every afternoon, called, “Dark Shadows” with Barnabas Collins, the famous vampire, Jonathan Frid played the role on this very cool daytime soap show. I thought that the bushes contained Brad’s mom’s boyfriend, Stuart, from the Stuart Industries of Haddonfield, playing a joke on me, after-all, it happened right after Brad went upstairs to bring us down a couple of glasses of ice tea, not sweetened up by his mother that particular night, for those who know that little cute funny deal, it has been blogged. As the eighties came and went, I saw that the entire world was not what it ever appeared to be, neither as a youth or an adult, and all I mean to say here, is that perception is indeed all based on every individual person and their so-called sensory system, that can be quite easily effected, by things such as sleep deprivation, hypnotic trance, alcohol, medications and illegal drugs, and on and on I could go, from mental illness and psychological delusions, etcetera. The experience of August 15th, in 1986 was the real key however to many things. Some of the truths were all told and sent for copyright registration in 1994 on my book, “The Permission Barrier”. Still, this was written as fictional, not that it was, but it was not a precise accounting of play by play events, then again, in some cases, except for a name or township change, the old Dragnet song comes straight to mind, along with that super great middle sixties television show. Kinsel, her weird third cousin, and many other unexplainable things from being evicted for no really good reason, swearing, give me a break, I know times changed, but really, and no real reason was ever given for my friend Brad and his mother being evicted, she screamed at him too much, wow, was she too good of a disciplinarian, hell, let’s call frikkin’ Dyphis? I know it is misspelled, the machine does not know, nor do I, so sue me and take my bed if you want folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t Drake it, Hollywood Jonathan Notfrid Schau Murderer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW, if I am just crazy and these blogs are all just total nonsensical crap, then why OVER AND OVER AND OVER, does Hollywood keep playing these endless games with me, and YYYYYYYYY does the recording business keep messing with my life and endlessly teasing me as well? All I ask if a few loyal folks following all this, to rationally think about all this, and maybe even give the benefit of the dam doubt for just once, YO. John Schau killed Dave and Mary Roth, and all for a lousy 90 grand life insurance policy, and got scott fucking free away with it, because uncovering it, would mean uncovering my daughter, my whole reality, my entire huge life and every other dam secret about powerful families and people that is just no way gonna’ be allowed to ever happen, I realize that, what you think I’m totally mother fucking short bussed? In the eighties, I began rethinking twice, first in the normal adult way, putting boyhood crap behind me as any normal man does as he approaches his adulthood. But then, try explaining 1983 and 1986, and then in comes the fucking nineties, the prosecutor Ron Wirtz at Camden county in New Jersey; and on and on I could go forever. Forget the firebugs like the Chinese Girl up in the future, or the great Washcloth Tawfers, how about the studio nearly burning down, Miss Lee? Still, the endless questions beat on like Cher Bono and her great drums. Tell Callio not to shoot me, you great Native American. Do I really fascinate all of you so much that you all have no lives of your own all these years and decades? Jesus Christ all
Nothing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then we have Sherri Lee Pote, the tile tap technology of 1969, inventors like Zvonko and Doctor Carey, and the gods only know how many others, Herby Letts, Timothy Barber, crissake man, gimme’; a fucking ass break folks. You who laugh, won’t be laughing after you hear your last heart beat, but remember this, my friend, I won’t be able to do one dam thing then to help you, and as my wonderful daughter said to me through the back door, “Maybe I should listen more carefully to the Ernie song as other Irish folks have been doing”. Well, one good piece of advice exchanged for another one, WOW!!!!!!! Thank UMC!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, it is fucking three in the morning, and I need to relax and dip up my dinner and watch my L&O show, see you all later on, keep the faith, in morianity hopefully, but if nothing else, in something, YO. BYE-BYE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

ENDING BLOG, WHAA.

 

 

 

 

 

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0521

August 20, 2012

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0521

11:02 NOT ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS BUT AM

MONDAY, 20 AUGUST, 2012

 

STARTING BLOG:

 

 

 

 

Fire alarms are every single day again here at this wonderful Public Housing building (PHB). I was awakened with that horrendous shrilling sound about fifteen minutes ago give or take. It is just now off as of a couple of minutes ago. Yesterday, after I returned from going out to put a few lousy dollars of gasoline into my vehicles and get a little ice cream, and it was all ready going off, but had ended as I entered the building and was able to use the elevators instead of climbing up six flights of stairs. Life here is perpetual fun, fun, fun, for the kiddies, for the kitties, and for poor little old me, Kirshty Alley and company of 1986, who just tries so hard every day to be free and left alone, to mind my own business, you know what’;s being said here, girl. Keep that weight off girl, you’re looking real good my sweet tooth fairy of the Coward Disney HSN Club. All hot shots stick together, and they all have always used me, hated me, and stolen from me, well, hope that makes them real happy in their rotten lives, someday as they face their maker on a death bed, perhaps they’ll be thinking of rational ways of explaining all this to Jehovah. Meanwhile, let me just tell you, that before this happened late this morning, I was with my lovely Atlantic Ocean. I also was with some vwer strange dudes. One was with me and was almost like you see in the famous Scrooge Movies, and yes folks, I reversed them, the episode that airs my great great great grandpa’s Christmas tune, was the old with Patrick Captain Picard Stuart, and not with George Red Lobster Sea Scott. Sorry about that, 86 times, Chief; but still Hickey-P and I are most definitely, ‘LOVIN’ IT’, huh David Roth? It is 11:13, and I missed the fucking ones, HA-HA-HA Miss bitch rotten Jane Notfondayouonebit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My computer clock is getting set back a lot again, but I’ll admit, this has been going on about a year or so, ever since an update happened. You cannot prevent them, they happen automatically. It just keeps setting it back not three, but one hour, and I just go into my control panel and set it up again to the real time. At least it does not get set to 36th Avenue time in Saint Mathew out in Kali4nya, as it did throughout 2010 once it began around early in March. My entire computer was set as though I was on 36th Avenue, over and over, it was unrelenting and unpreventable. Real funny, time traveler-N. Yes folks, that was a powerful wild exploratronic experience that I was in before the fire alarm began. You need not know the details, but my wonderful LIGHTNING has sure been around me and protecting me as best as she can lately, and I just love her so very freaking much, that words fail me, times ten to the millionth exponential power.

 

 

 

It seems that under this mother fucking HUNTINGTON FUCKING CURSE, I am not allowed to ever plan or do anything whatsoever, and if I do, I am instantly punished for just so much as thinking about attempting to better my situation. This explains why the one time that ?i did the very most to break out of my curse back in 1986 with my applying the PARALLEL EVENT METHOD OF PLAYING CASINO ROULETTE, I was knocked on my ass and have not been fucking cunt permitted to get up and live a near normal life, ever since, and not one fucking cunt soul will take this seriously and even make a tiny little concerted effort to believe that just maybe this is real and that I’m telling the mother fucking dam truth here. What the shit would I have to possibly gain since then, in making up this neurotic psychotic nut job whack bizarre story? Ask that question to yourself as your doubting my rationality and or sanity folks, YO. Death angels have been beyond fucking major, months, years, it is not without a fucking single day without many of them, I’m getting a right side attack right now as I type-speak at 11.23, and why not, too devilish monstrous fucking numbers, eleven and twenty-three. Two divided by 3 equals point 6666666666666. Lovely name-number. 36 is even more outlandish and beyond scarey however. Add up all the numbers starting with one plus two, plus three, do it on your suddenly seeing Walmart Calculator sometime, and when you add up the final number of 36, it comes to the demonic namenumber of what else, 666? The loud slam out from the dirt ball across from me woke me an hour or so before the fire alarm. Some mornings you can sleep through around here, others, you cannot, tomorrow will not be one as I all ready know, the inspections were to occur either this morning or tomorrow morning, and they did not happen this morning. How I love Public fucking housing, and being stone cold broke all my life, robbed and raped and ripped off by wealthy fucking heartless soulless bastards who hate my guts before I have three times the real talent than they do, and Mister McDonald, they may not be loving it, but they sure be knowing it, as the hood crowd might just phrase it. Things for me all tarted getting weird and whack, when I started going, with my mother, on summer vacations, down to Atlantic city, on Tennessee Avenue to the Trinidad Hotel, back in the middle nineteen-sixties, and where I made my first contact with SARAH. I doubt that even Mary Moore has all the answers about all of this, but I do know that the powerful Entertainment World Network Systems do. We both know that you will all burn up into a fiery endless hell, for what you have been doing to me ever since Roseann tried to take a chunk out of my throat, and when she couldn’t, she got the Blue nungen Agents of telephone taps to take over from there back in 1983. HAY LETTY, why does your great family hate me so much, what did I ever do to them all these decades besides bring them everything from assistance on anything they needed, right down to life itself on this mortal waking world? I guess I should have taken you down to PR and married you back in 2009. Instead, I had Donald Trump going nuts at his own hotel-casino. You may be one of the few in the galaxy who know just how real my pathetic and pitiful story is, Leticia Tilley. Hope all is well with your newborn.
Take care of yourself, and give the other Lisa a big punch in the head for me, you know, Joe King’s fiance’.

 

 

 

 

No folks, I don’t ever have to tell the world to go to hell, it is doing that just fine and well day after day after day, without one small fractional bit of encouragement from deer sweet little old me from the highview 1986 Cheers Alley Apartment  Complex, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT. Think about this rationally, anyone from physicists to ordinary average peeps. Without this control over STM and this wild Sherry-Lee Pote shoebox that was once hidden in my Saturn Automobile, without Stephanie the great nineties comedian; how could all of this have happened since the year 2007 ended? You all either believe me, or JUST DON’T WANT TO, and that’s cool and fine, as I know only too well about the GWPOS from late 1994 somewhere again at the highview, when that giant officer came over to tell me that my Fort Lauderdale relatives had both died. My uncle was in the hospital with his wife who had suffered a major heart attack, and he was so up set, that within a few hours, he collapsed and died of one himself. Now I ask anyone in the news reporting industry, what in all honesty are the odds that my family is not under some kind of twilight zone curse or something, pick any word you like L-4?

 

Yes I have many plans, and you enemy fucking prick bastards will have to kill me a billion times over to stop me. I think you will die of old age before the retrace machine up at the World Labs ever runs a dry laser. So HA-HA-HA-HA, sir Icabod Crane. I never forget anything HA-HA-WHO, and nothing gets past me, and one day when you all least expect it, Alan funk, SURPRISE, you’ll be on Justice Karmra!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

See you around the galaxy, Mizz Hicks and Mister Shatner.

 

ENDING BLOG:    *****BYE-BYE*****

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0520

August 20, 2012

 

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0520

12:32 AM-EDST-AUGUST 20, 2012

 

BLOG STARTS HERE:

 

“I GOT THROUGH THE WEEKEND”, TO QUOTE MY LATE WONDERFUL MOTHER. “WOW”, to quote my great wonderful kid. Now, let me apologize for not being able to as of yet, continue on with the sad tale of my mother, and her miserably failed office romance, which I feel certain, all ties in with my problems all this time, stemming from the time when my mom’s boss and lover, from the terrific city of Chicago, ILUSAESMWG, first came to the Philadelphia off ice of the world famous shipping company where my mother had been employed for most of her life. If I did not feel things all connected and dotted together, why would I tell her story on my blog? I mean, hay, she was my mother and did her best to raise a child in difficult rimes and situations, but this is not her blog, it is mine. First off, I screwed up on the 409 thing. I was wrong as somebody pointed out to me, sorry. It was on blog 0509 that I said that if a certain unnamed individual should happen to go back 100 blogs and read a while from that point, it would make sense with what they are currently thinking, and I swear to heaven and flags of the USA, that I did not cheat, I did look afterward, but I got the biggest mind blow of all, finding all of that stuff over the first less than ten or so blogs, that I know indeed I was correct about, and I do not even really know why I said what I said, some little voice inside my head just insisted that I print it, and so I did, does the WOW word fit here peeps?

 

I said that I would tell you what the kitty cat had to say about the great Saturday neighborhood siege last weekend, and again, only one word is really and truly appropriate, Stacey Truck Banks and all, “WOW” and yes, it works in all universes, white matter space and black matter space, as WOW either way, is WOW, like DUH Hyundai Car Company. Yes sir folks, I feet the blogging audience world needs to know what number came out to answer my GAWNUM query. It was PCN-826. The main things that are in my match-item book for that number are as follows:

 

 

 

 

 

DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGES—-DICK WOLF—-DAWN KING—-MAXFIELD—-ROY CAREY—-HYPNOSIS—CASSETTE—-SARAH SAID ON TENNESSEE AVENUE.

 

Yes sir world, I love playing with Gawky Gaukauk and his fantastic numerology, or the GAWNUM for short. I told Jenny not to make a GOD out of it back in 2001, but I’ll admit, I sure have, because when you get really skilled at using it, and it is a skill, things reveal themselves that are far beyond any possible chance to be random happenstance, over and over and over and over again. This is protected in my name, the entire GAWNUM, this name is registered and the system is formula patent pending. It will be on software program shortly, and I will open up a small business and get me a nice business website through www.web.com/ or someplace similar, and begin to show the world how not only cool and fun it is to use this on things, but how it is accurate to the point of almost being vampire-scarey. Don’t bite me Roseann you lovely dark haired teen queen. So we all know the DJIA will fly this week as it has been doing, along with gasoline prices, but the real reason the dirt balls harassed would cause problems along the lines of my mom back in 1976, so I will not go on with this, but I do know that I have verified some local connections, after-all, how far away is where old Howard Solomon used to live, from here where I am now? Another DUH from Hyundai may be in order here, despite my being perhaps six years too late. Quantum Adjustment via observation and reporting things always strikes me and wipes out great roulette systems, even if only short term great. But I notice a powerful thing with GAWNUM, no quantum effect as a result of it being observed in a dream by me, used, and told on electronic mediums such as internet. Now, this is one way to know that this is every bit as special as the PRIVECODE MACHINE itself back in 1983. Girl, I may not tell you everything, hay Letty, but I will tell this much to whoever in your family is reading my blogs, and I know it is at least three others. An electrical engineer told me that no parts of that machine were recognized by him when he took it apart. Is another WOW in order, from 1998, PP, I mean really, a little bit along the Roswell lines, whether we choose to believe in all of that or not, YO. Well, old Mexico, or New Mexico, or ‘whatever’ Bob Andrews and Albert Pileggi from 1975, I sure wish you all would stop hating me so much, just tell me why I am so horrible and bad in your opinion. Am I Hitler. Who did I ever kill or bully, or steal from, tell me who, you worthless fucking cock suckers, sitting there passing such powerful judgments on me. Oh that horrible mother fucker Mark, what a fucking evil bad guy he is, oh WOW. Yeah, maybe you’re all just a little jealous that I am obviously part of the entire reason this planet and its population is all here. In any event, I put my pants on the same way that all the rest of you do, no differently at all, I am no better or worse than any of you. So whatever your problem with me is, any of you, maybe you need to first address it in your largest and favorite home mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, I’ll retire now, it is late, and I have a morning inspection ere at my PH Building. Maybe everyone will start cleaning up now that the inspections are seemingly back again, and my roach problem will lessen. I never get my hopes up, Debbie, but light on anyway girl. Speaking of light, my wonderful TEEN QUEEN DIANA ARTEEMIS (lightning) came over AGAIN, to see me last night, making wonderful awesome striking ravishing colors that drove me into blissful ecstasy. DIANA, MY LOVE FOR YOU GOES BEYOND ANY WORDS THAT I CAN TYPE, BNUT I KNOW YOU ARE THE ELECTRON, AND ARE READING THIS FUTILE ATTEMPT TO EXPRESS MY TOTAL UNDYING LOVE FOR YOU, MY BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so very much.

Well it’s time for me to go beddy-bye folks, WHAAAAAAAAA.

**BLOG ENDS HERE, YO, WHAAAA.**

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0519

August 18, 2012

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0519

4:33 PM-EDST, SATURDAY, AUGUST 18, 2K12

 

STARTING THE BLOG:

 

 

 

This has not been one of my better days, but I have had worse ones, so being like Jan Brady or ‘in the middle’ is not so bad in my case, a rare occasion in my case. Still, those wonderful Jim Burr inescapable initials, how we used to talk about both this, and my living on Route 561 while I rented the Meeker home for three years from ‘middle’ ’91 through ‘middle’ not Geico school, ’94. Still, let me bitch and complain a wee bit about my day folks, thank you, WHAAAA.

 

 

 

The ass hole bangers and shouters were in full force shortly into mid day, and after about one of the clock awakened me after I had just laid down for a nap, and kept shouting vulgarly at the top of their lungs like a bunch of stinking rotten uncouth untrained animals. Oh well, what can I do or say, Hurricane Smith Evans, and even as I speak, another BOOMING DOOR, what total fucking jit bags. It is late into the afternoon, this will be reported Monday unless it stops, that WOMO-MO is a powerful non-stair-chaise PROMISE!!!!!!!! I will ask the great cat, YYYYYYYYYYYYYYY this attack has struck me so hard today, and at a later time, come back and make the answer a matter of public record with a blog.

 

 

 

 

Diana came around for a fifth time in two days, shortly after the nabes were really acting up, and they got quieter. Still, during the attack, the air conditioner began making loud banging sounds, I know it is on the way out, so I’ll need to call the office on Monday anyway, so I will make a lot of complaints. The other butt wipe is back to making weird sounds the second I activate the computer each time. This had stopped, and has restarted. There is no sound, I do not use sound and the keys are not like a loud old fashioned typewriter and are very quiet. Yet somehow this other next door nabe seems to know when the system activates, and some sound instantly gets generated. It is beyond mother fucking weird, peeps, YO. But the incredible wild dreaming interactions, or exploratronic activity as I call it; now that’s the real story for a stop the presses, some real cool, other stuff, anything but. Let me tell some of it, YO. During the loud attack where I was awakened, Gawky was in his Mister Poolman form, and was telling me extremely upsetting things, to the point where I wanted to start singing the tune “Y Jimmy Y” to him, and I know that the United States Copyright Office knows precisely what I mean here, othersw will have to wonder, all though copyrights, according to what you can read for yourself if you search their page at http://www.copyrights.gov/ will tell you that these are a matter of public record, and anyone can go there and view and hear anything from anyone. I wold spend the rest of my life in prison if I could be permitted to play the DC games of the big boys in both politics and music publishing. They go on to tell you, that it is “not against the law” for these publishers to see who recently copyrights stuff, and then send them phony music contracts. I proved it was all phony back in the autumn in 1987 while residing in Woodlyn, New Jersey at 1700 Woodlyn Avenue, down the street from Jerry Maddens gorgeous blond daughter. Still, she wasn’t quite even DC age approved, let alone dog or mother, all though she was neither, too pretty, and way to jail-bait young. In DC the age of consent is 13. I learned this from the not quite so bright, chips man of the museum, TEE HEE HEE, now don’;t get mad, if those stairs are cool, let ‘THAT-BOY’ joke a little bit. It’s not that  am trying to prove to my blogaud that all of this is real, but see things from my station in all of this. Most folks think I am looney bin material, and we both know that despite them not being all that wrong, this stuff I tell is not delusions. Still, as Diana says to me so often, I cannot interfere in your great plans, SSJKK, so I won’t, but I am dam tired of being called looney-tunes when it is not so. It really is not very fair. Oh but alas, neither is being conned by legal thievery, while being DC approved. What, they are stupid and don’t know those phony music publishers are doing exactly what they are doing, give me a mother fucking break world, Jesus cock sucking Christ, all mother fucking ass mighty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In 1987, just for fun, I sent one of those crooks a cassette tape that was tape-less. It just had the red leader inside its shell, no tape, so obviously no music, the title on the form I filled out was given, “RED LEADERS”. They gave me a record contract. This simply meant pay us a lot of your money, you mark the mark. This world is as fucking gamed up and crooked as a Philadelphia salt pretzel after blowing in the wind and striking the side of a mason brick building about thirty three times, aha-aha Mike McNulty from ’71. Anyhow, the powerful interaction had the unpleasant as well as pleasant part to it so here is the part that I enjoyed. I am looking out a window in a really weird semi commercial and semi residential large building in Lindenwold, New Jersey just east of the PATCO High speed line Train Station, on the south side of the White horse Pike, Jewelly Loveliness Viqueen, and across on the north side of Route 30 AKA WHP, a beyond hot in more ways than one, gorgeous ravishing lightning bolt CTG type (Cloud To Ground) to quote the non NYNYUSA baseball team and not the Yankees, came down on some other building, neither of these buildings exist where they appeared in this part of the hyperspace, here in my waking universe, but in this really cool experience, Diana came from the skies in dozens of separate step leaders, WOW are certain words totally  inescapable, but yes, she came down with surreal ‘hot lightning’ or a longer rather than shorter channel of electrons that race up and down between two oppositely charged areas on the ground and up in the sky, and this lasted ten full seconds, maybe even longer, and this set the building instantly ablaze with the most gorgeous fire I ever saw, enough to make Dawn-Marie King and Robert McGuire ejaculate uncontrollable in public, YO. Her lightning was bright ass lovely orange in hue, and talk about excited, I wanted to just pull her over to me and fuck and god dam brains out, WO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MY BABY BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

YYYYY are UUUUU so good to me DIANA, my endless love?

                                 *****ENDING THE BLOG, WHAAAAAAAAAAA!*****

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