MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER 6, KING WHO, MICROSOFT?

 

 

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER-Vl

 

 

 

 

1:40 AM-EST @ FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

(COPYRIGHT) MARK WAYNE MOHR URL’S, 2006-2013

 

 

 

Well, ladies and gentlemen, no matter whatever happens to me from this day and hour forward, it is a beautiful thing to obtain fantastic proof, that I am not insane, despite those with contrary and counter opinions of that statement, found on that hate-site of me, that was created by Sir Jason Forrest, of WFMU RADIO;  back somewhere in OH-M-6.

 

 

 

Also, I owe a lot of members in Ann and Dawns distant family, a super major apology, upon learning that they were all used as mere pawns, in this fantastic nightmare that is owned and completely operated and controlled, by none other than the INTERACTION-FORCE, AKA, the major enemies of mine or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cannot share or blog the stuff I want to. There are two very good reasons why, really more, but two very very good ones. One reason is that not anyone who wants to help me in any way or be of human service to me at my darkest hours, is reading these blogs, despite a nice size readership, and reason number two is that it is totally UNBLOGGABLE. I will say that I owe a lot of folks big time apologies, as for about 4-5 years or so, I thought that they had done me a lot of wrong, and even though distant relatives did not exactly do me any wonderful favors in some ways folks, in other ways, and as told in recent prior blogging texts, they have done me enormous good while all along, not trying to do so in one little bit, but they did anyway, and I speak of Dawn King forever changing my desire, to ever date or marry or have a family, or even associate with anyone any longer. All the shit did not frikkin sink in until recently, but slowly and surely, I came to realize, and see, even when not at the great Walmart Retail Store anywhere in the world, yes sir, yes mahm; I have one thing in common with the great Greta Garbo, and talent is not amongst the list. But I could have all the talent in the universe, and it would not matter one teeny tiny bit. I also need to apologize to Google, sort of, and shift the stuff over to the real anti-gods of hell, and that would be, MICROSOFT. Dave Roth was so totally correct all along, good folks. Shooting in the darkness, and out of season, may bag a few nothing-prophets from 1988, and cause a lot of temporary cheery moods and restaurant employee dancing; but it strikes too many innocent targets, and hurting the innocent is wrong, and unconscionable, always, no doubt about it, Lenny McKinnon. I’ll never be able to adequately say how sorry I am, since the early eighties,for a lot of flying bullets that missed many guilty folks, and struck down innocent blood. Also, I wish ‘MC’ only the best, in all of her endeavors, and realize that she was just brought into the entire huge three empty rooms with corners that have broken up floors, and glarry dangerous limo drivers, or whatever. I only hope that she can forgive me someday, for just following so many facts, that led me into a lot of misguided conclusions. I want so badly to admit to huge findings, but just cannot risk people being further injured or worse, as a direct effecting result. I want to show major things in mathematics, as well as give direct information on so many things, but it would be so hazardous to my health and everybody else’s who ever read these words, that it just is not worth it. Today was my day of BOTBAR, yes indeed, but it also was something so much frikkin greater than just merely that lads and lassies. It was my day of ULTIMATE REVELATION, backed up 100%, even abler to stand up in court, only I would never live to make it to the frikkin courthouse. I totally know this, and that needs to suffice with this being said on this blog.

 

 

 

I do not dare thank the few peeps in the EW who all this time went out of their way, to indeed show me the right way, and the wrong way, and even how to grow up and face my fears; and get things straightened out once and for all. It will save me a lot of aggravation, a nervous breakdown, and most likely quite a bit of cash money as well, over the long run. Many strategies are all changed now. Smart folks just may be able to understand the tip edge of some things being said on this blog, but my advice to you is to keep your frikkin mouth shut. You have the faith that comes from ‘knowing’, as do I. Let us leave things right there, good folks. So much makes perfect total sense now, that used to have a million holes all throughout it, like my mom’s accusatory theories of 1988 and Moorestown, New Jersey. Yes, I am talking around a lot of things, but that’s the way it goes, Sigmund Malyeska.

 

 

 

L-4, and others, I must now wish you a fond farewell for the time being, and just tell you that a few hours ago, I won three units and quit ahead and fast, in my paper-roulette. I may decide to teach the world the system, free of charge, as the math behind it is so major, it may just disprove a lot of things now currently accepted in the community of so called know it all’s, in the academic sciences and mathematical disciplines.

 

 

 

So nighty-might good peeps, and I may be slowly bringing all of MORIANITY to a close. I know that it is a total waste of time, and that the WO and the MO, have total control of what is made public to the masses, and what is forever kept quiet. Doubters of that fact, need only speak to the many buffs of the UFO phenomenon, not that aliens and saucers have one dam thing to do with any of this. I make no claims beyond the fact, that this day was both BOTBAR, as well as the day of my awakening and total revelation. So wonder and wonder, and ponder, but I cannot be more specific, at least for right now, L-4, so sorry!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*END TRANNY, LOVELY SWEET OL’ GRANNY, YO*.

 

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER-5-KING NEBNOOSHOO, BRO

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER V

 

1:06 PM-EST, SUPER BOTBAR FUCKING ATTACK DAY

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY CUNT LAPPING FUCKING 30, 2013

 

MY NABES FROM HELL ARE SCREAMING AND SLAMMING, AND I AM E-MAILING DEBBIE MOROTTO WHEN THIS BLOG HAS BEEN POSTED UP.

 

L-4 folks, other entities, and whoever and whatever, Congressman RA sir and old pal from 1975 and the Albert Pileggi Band, of Westmont, New Jersey, on Pyle Avenue; THE WOMO MILI-2-FORCE has struck me hard, at exactly 12 noon, right on the cock sucking fucking button, YO YO YO!!!

 

On top pf these horrible cunt lapping nabes across the fucking cunt hellway, the WOMO has pushed that magic button of theirs, that my blogs discuss from time to time, called the ”TOOTHACHE MAJOR BUTTON”. Whenever they wish to cause me severe excruciating mother fucking agony, POW, out of nowhere, major pain in my teeth is suddenly just there, yet it goes away eventually with the same suddenness and totality of its original onset, normally anywhere from three days to three weeks. It began getting bad yesterday, but not enough to cause me to BOTBAR, and also, I had no problem with my sicko psycho nabes until noon today, when this entire fucking shit just EXPLODED out of nowhere. Obviously the DOW JONES has crossed over, with or without great talented daughters, the 14K point mark, and this is when my enemies go all out to destroy me beyond anything that I could ever even hope to describe to you people reading this, on some stupid fucking cunt ass blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let us examine these BOTBAR or wicked horrible bad days that strike me out of nowhere and don’t even try and look back or cut me the smallest cunt eating break. Before I do explain this somewhat, HA HA HA, you missed me Miss Dirtweeds Notfondau!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is nineteen past one now. Screw you, and screw 1993!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Ever since god dam fucking 2013, and I AM looking at my calendar now as I speak to you all electronically through this keyboard right now folks, WEDNESDAYS are the day of MAJOR NABE ATTACK. The only Wednesday that it missed, was a week ago, back on the devil number, believe it or not, the twenty-third. But the second day of the month and the year, January 2, was indeed a horrible Wednesday, and a horrendous wicked SUPER BOTBAR. So also was the following Wednesday, on January ninth, and again the one following that, on January 16. Then I’ll admit there was a skip the following Wednesday, last ?Wednesday, on January 23. But on the following Wednesday, TODAY, KAFUCKINGCUNTPOW ADAM WEST BATMAN SIR, and this makes 4 out of 5 January Wednesday’s, SUPER BAD DAYS OF WOMO MILI-2-FORCE ”IF” ATTACK NOW, and on no other day of the week this year, is this the case. For cunt eating ass example, let’s walk through the other six days so far. Total January 2013 Botbars or (TJTB) are listed now as follows, taken right off of my wall calendar where I carefully record all of them, for the other remaining six days. TJTB for THURSDAY are goose fucking eggs, a bit fat ass zero, zilch, nada, zip, also statable as NONE. TJTB for FRIDAY is 1 and yes a lonely number as the old song goes, and one that I can live quite perfectly and enjoyably with. TJTB for SATURDAY is yet another lonely number, so far just one, and the last Saturday as well as Friday have already passed forever by, this year, for the month of nasty rotten ass January. TJTB for SUNDAY is still another lonely and gorgeous number, again, with a 1. But hold onto your socks with TUESDAY, as the amount of TJTB is NONE. The only other day that gave me trouble was TUESDAY, but only half the trouble that WEDNESDAY gave me, as there were a total of 2 TJTB days. Still, the big attack with these nabes seems to be the two days where RESIDENT FUCKING MANAGER, DEBBIE MOROTTO, IS NOT HERE IN THE BUILDING TO ENFORCE THE RULES AND REGS. Why else would the match up of the BOTBAR DAYS, be those same two days, yes folks, TUESDAYS and WEDNESDAYS?

 

When I came over to blog here, I put on my headphones and began playing my HU-CHANT, made by the great ECKANKAR religion, and something just fucked up for no good reason. The tape does not stick nor is it jammed, yet it stops a lot, and will need to be re-dubbed onto a new blank at high speed, as this normally defeats the problem, but for now, I am fucked. This is now the TOOTH fucking shit, the diseased sick bastard crude uncouth NABES fucking shit, and now this electronic or really, unknown ‘UTILITY’ related hack or attack. So now we have, count them Lex and others, three events so far, and the day is just starting. These fucking pricks over there woke me up with a huge door slam like nothing I ever heard, and since then it is slam slam slam slam slam and lots of hollering and shouting. They began this on the exact fucking cunt dot of twelve noon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Today is considered to be a total-ground attack, so far, but that can change on a fucking cunt dime, and go from ground assault up into the air, without warning, but for right now, all three assaults on me by my IF or ”INTERACTION-FORCE”, labeled many names, as my enemies; but as of now, during all of this ground war hell, the skies are both quiet, and devoid of lines and grids and poisons. Many days back in Jersey, it would switch back and forth during super BOTBAR attack days, as if these crumbs literally were trucked around, and went from being USAF Bluebook pilots, to these pricks on the ground. I know it seems fantastic, and I did say, and as all unknown things or magic tricks operate, by slight of hand and clever quick moves coupled with simultaneous diversions; I said it ‘looks like” or gave this impression. Somehow, I think I would bet a billion Trump lawsuits against beauty queens, that this is Not what actually is being done, but it most definitely produces this illusion, and I’ll give you all another wild parlor trick, every bit as unexplainable as tropical island fruit juice late nineties real good television commercials, or ‘MY’ 1986 song introductions, done absolutely with no knowledge of it on any conscious level, and that would be my recent experience of nine days ago, over at fucking Avalon Recording Studio, in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, with ,my engineer, Ryan. Now to get any part of this in any fucking shit swallowing meaningful way, lads and lassies, you really do need to expand your normal thinking processes just a little bit. This man was a pretty heavy chain smoker since high school, and was so happy that he had recently quit smoking last year in the springtime somewhere, and was very happy on his electronic cigarettes, I believe he used the BLUES, for the smokers who know the various brands. Now he went away in November last year and did not get back until the first week in January. He was working at a sister studio on the West Coast of Florida, and then went up north to be with his Jersey family for the holidays. All seems perfectly normal so far, I’ll give you that one, but it does get a whole lot better and wilder, so sit down, as I really don’t want you standing and reading on. The shock may cause injury to your head while you faint and fall down, so please, sit, thank you. I had done a partial musical project with him back last spring and into summer time, and am still saving up to pay for it so I can both take the CD, and have him electronically register all of my stuff done there, with the United States Copyright Office. This makes the registration fee lower to register online, and he knows how to go up on their website and send the music data to them and fill out the forms. He also will be taking down all of my YOUTUBE accounts in full, when I see him next, but let us stay on point for right now, shall we folks?

 

 

 

 

 

 

We discussed how I was not all that totally satisfied with the way he synthesized my kid’s harmony vocals, taking that old telephone conversation where she tells me, ”You’ll be crossing over”, and pitching it to the exact notes of the harmony vocals on all four verses of the song. I reminded him of how I used to play around with keyboards from local music stores, as early as 1980, and by using numerous mixed input and output signal mixing, equalization effects, sound samplers, and the notes on the keyboards, I could make words turn into perfectly pitched music singing, that did not sound so electronically produced. He said he would look into all of this, and I even gave him detailed information of various machines that I had all assembled together, and over the phone, he suddenly told me, back before he left last autumn for a long time away; that he knows just how to do what I want and that it would sound much better. He told me that word for word. Now remember, he is someone who takes honesty and integrity to the nth degree, never lies, never misleads, tells it straight, etcetera. He also told me that he will never smoke those nasty ‘real’ cigarettes again, it made his clothes stinky, his girlfriend did not like it, and he went on quite colorfully and vociferously about the matter, and absolutely told me he was forever done with the old smokes, and loved his new electronic BLUES smokes. Now I stress, here is a dude who I’ve known and would vouch for his character as honest to the point of almost sacrificing his life to a stranger if it came to that; and yet, two major things suddenly SHIFTED out of normal reality, back on 2012 King Day, when I went over for my scheduled noon session with him. He knows I don’t want something that is anything less than great, after-all, we are talking about taking the greatest singing voice on this planet, and using a talking only younger version of it from early in 1984, for the digital sampling; and hence, I wanted something that sounded far better than what we already had done before when we made this harmony track, that is up on the paulaking2011 channel of the youtube right now, and is viewable by clicking on the video showing the railroad tracks that are all bent and twisted out of shape, sort of like my entire life. But my point is that I got there, and he played what he was now going to change it too, and it was worse than listening to fingernails on chalkboards. It is not like Ryan at all, not one little bit, to even suggest to me, that I would want to copyright such a horrible and mickey mouse version of my wonderful great daughter’s voice. How could I have done so much better 33 years ago, it makes no sense at all? Still, the point ties in with the cigarette smoking that he was back all over again to doing. Now UI know that quitting is very hard, as I have known my share of really fucking hard core smokers, with my own father being among this crowd. But he told me straight faced last spring, that he was done with this, and was totally happy with his new smokes, the BLUE ELECTRONIC CIGARETTE. I am now totally convinced, that the RYAN that told me that he would be able to make me a much more lifelike and better quality harmony vocal of my daughter, from that sampled intro where she in 1984 was giving me some driving instructions. Instead, I get there, and he is smoking real cigarettes again, and then totally blew my mind with that awful sounding new version, that I politely told him he could file under ‘TRASH BETTER LEFT FORGOTTEN’. If either one of these transdimensional differences or reality shifts of seemingly major consequence, had happened solely and independently of the other one also happening, the rotten new voice creation and the going back to smoking, I could believe it is all normal circumstance. But given my personal life and all of the continuous switching of reality on a dime, just like the way today at noon just banged into my life and reality out of nowhere, as if I had been taken by an alien UFO SHIP, from a dream, straight into this so-called same apartment where I appeared to awaken up in, only it is not the same, and just as in the bedroom in Richard Karpf’s Cherry Hill, New Jersey home, at 1931 Route 70, or Marlton Pike, same road; when I came out of whatever I really came out of on the morning of fucking cunt lapping August fifteen, in 1986, things forever shifted for me, into this death nightmare, never ever being able to return to the life that I had known before that witrh at least a small semblance of order and reality that made some small sense, even to me, and relative to my screwed up Huntington cursed life!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was not going to discuss this powerful last session date at the Avalon Studio, but now that the flood gates have been opened, ciggs or no ciggs, beauty queens or no beauty queens, Mister Dick Wolf; let me tell you in addition, that I had a nice talk with Tony Bonjovi, and he admitted to me, that he had figured out right away, that this song was so much like that intro done by MC in 1997; and the one with that powerful message to me, ‘put on top or not’; and he told me that he is quite sorry that things turned out so bad with everything; and he hopes the lawsuit does not get too ugly. That is when I came to learn that there is or was, an industry buzz, that I was trying to make trouble. That was the last thing on my mind. I was proud, and I also was flattered; and it was not that much of a copy; merely a short musical idea perhaps, that nobody really owns; any more than anyone owns tales such as locals hearing things in the winds, yet the great ‘MENTALIST’ television show, did edit that part out of that 2012 episode, with the treasure that was on a few nights back, Monday night if I am not mistaken about it. I thought it was way cool, that the greatest female artist of all time, did this; and I told Mister Bonjovi that word for word, and hopefully, he will get that circulated around that rotten industry, where I am hated so much by so many; for no good reason whatsoever. However, one thing is about as plain and easy to see as a lightning bolt that just missed your head. That god dam mother fucking 1983 remake song, ”YBCO” has caused more grief than it is worth. I just want it copyrighted, to keep the yellow sheet lady happy, as she obviously ‘knew the end from the beginning’, and needed to ‘keep her dam Ed Green job’ too much, for her to tell me anything too directly, when she called me up that late spring day, in 2008; at the Mullica trailer that I was living at, before the great King Kidnapping occurred.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Folks, when shit is made to be real fucking bad for me, with neighborhood shit, computer hacking shit or utilities or neighborhood attacks, or a heavy sky attack, it causes me disastrous fucking loss in ability to work gaming systems, and the entire evil fucking gaming industry knows this super well guarded all time secret, and they do use it against a few peeps, who normally just die, found dead in some obscure stenchy old hotel room near Vegas or AC, and no one is ever the wiser. Morianity will hopefully allow a lot of real honest lawsuits against these suit punk corporate cheater owners, who have indeed wiped out my life, and that will never stop persecuting me, knowing fully well, that doing so, causes me an endless lack of GOOD COSMIC AGREEMENT INTERACTIONS, or (LUCK). Wipe out a person’s entire life, and their luck goes down right along with it. Someday, I will fucking find a cunt lapping way to prove all of this in a controlled environment laboratory setting. Until then, I sit here, an eternally fucked duck; with the ugly laughing jals of the USAF high ranking covert officials, and their endless COVER-UP of the BLUE-BOOK truths, and there ain’t dick licking asshole squat that I can seemingly do about it. That is because freedom is a pure illusion. Anyone who says this is a free country, is not properly educated. It is a republic, and it stands for one nation of non democracy, but the overkill power of the super wealthy to endlessly rule, own, and totally control all of our lives, picking and choosing literally, who lives and who dies, in medical related decisions, and cleverly and with great fucking stealth, who is permitted to live in poverty forever or forced to really, and who is permitted to occasionally make the system look good or appear to be free, and climb out of it, miraculously. This is truth, folks. I’m not insisting you like truth, most peeps throughout the fucking ages, despise truth, and kill those who dare to speak it too ofter and or too fucking loudly. Look into your history books, and remember that this is merely a very sanitized Victoria Winters Dark Shadows Family bible, version, as she learned so well, back in 1795, on that fantastic daytime soap show that ran from 1966 into 1971. WOW. SHEEEEEIT! 55555555.

‘E/T’, PUNS, NO PUNS; YOU PICK THE DEAL FOLKS! FREE!

MORIANITY-3, CHAPTER 4

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER lV

 

 

10:15 PM-EST, JANUARY 29, 2013, TUESDAY NIGHT

IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA; MARK WAYNE MOHR RECORDING AND REPORTING, FOR THE RECORD, ON THE RECORD, AND BY THE RECORD; SO HELP ME SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, GODDESS ALL MIGHTY.

 

 

 

 

Never ending things continue to happen to this computer, and will always happen, as the ”IF”, quite obviously views it, as an instrument being used, to attempt to overthrow and injure its very survival, as once something is exposed, to quote the mighty Barnabas Collins of Dark Shadows, it can much more easily be destroyed. First, it needs to be exposed, then it can be, possibly destroyed, and then only possibly, but there is no possibility whatsoever of accomplishing that lotable goal of destroying wickedness and evil and power-mongers and greed loving Reaganomics fans, without bringing the entire issue to the surface, and to the attention of the public 99, so my question still remains, to a totally controlled news media, where is Michael Moore’s great 2011 group, ”OCCUPY”???????????????? Oh well, with or without it or them, I will fight on, and there is a major lot to tell.

 

 

 

 

 

First off folks, I lost eight units over the weekend, but won back eleven units, on Monday, yesterday, at my roulette. We are plugging and trudging along, averaging plus one unit for each of the three days of play, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, and I have not played today, and may not, as I am busy with other major bull-crap, and am on some limited time, and have a lot I need to tell right now on this blog, and will only be able to get to a little percentage chunk of the entire mess, but I’ll open a lot of doors up, and then later on, we can all walk into some new rooms and areas, and believe me when I tell you, that minds are gonna’ get frikkin blown!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

My father, according to numerous psychic readers, knew the Callio folks, back when my mom and him, and myself, all resided on Richmond Avenue in south Atlantic City and Atlantic Avenues, at the Bruce Manor Motel, owned by Fred Laurenz and his wife, and no I do not know exactly how they spelled their name, as I was weight years frikkin old at the time, and neither does Microsoft Spell Checker, (MSC). Folks like Patty-Jane, on a great television show called, ”The Mentalist”, don’t believe that ‘any’ psychics are tuned into Astral Realities, and all are phony fake con artists, and he is 99.99% right. The problem is that I personally and totally know that he is also 0.001% not right. This fall between the cracks of reality, and not ODF you hack jack quack Lattisaw garbage; but yes, this fall between the cracks, in my personal miserable hell or waking life as MWM, is all built around this one powerful truth, and the mighty Fred Windstein somehow seemed to know about this, back in 1997, and so did his coworker and pal, ‘Mirrors-Craig’, from the Berlin, New Jersey, White Horse Pike Radio Shack Tandy Store. Without making a million pages out of a huge evil nightmare, that is all major BLUEBOOK interconnected, and keeping things as abridged and compressed as is humanly possible, peeps; let me just say a few little things. My dad knew the parents of the late Frank Callio and the brother of late Victoria, his aunt, who was in love with me when I was age fifteen, and then 27 years later, treated me like total crap over the telephone, for no good reason. When peeps act horrendous when you do nothing to cause it, they have something to hide, and the more wild the situation, and the more that they need to keep well hidden the darkened shadows, well, common sense tells us that the crap being hidden, is in a ratio and proportion, with or without Sorian question number eighteen, of New Jersey Security Officers; to how mean and horrible and wild, you get treated, for doing no more than politely asking a quick question that could be answered in a single sentence, including a polite response of, ”well, I don’t really think that this is any of your business”. All of that would be within normal behavior. I totally disagree with you, Mike Kelly, of Philadelphia, oh great and mighty nineties anesthesiologist of U of M Hospital, and author of a once existing newsletter, that brought the chemtrail phenomenon into first exposure, called, ”Secrets From The Next Dimension”.  You and Victoria Callio are totally entitled to your opinion, as is Michelle Daniels of RPL Sound Studios in 1980, and also, as am I. Spell Checker does not seem to recognize the way that I believe Mizz Daniels spelled her name, ‘Mashell’, and puts a red line under it, and when you check, there is no correction for it, yes State Farm, you really cannot trust much of what you see here, on this lovely ass interfret.

 

 

My father was in the United States Merchant Marines, during a time, when the great Albert Einstein, did the unthinkable, at a naval shipyard, in Philadelphia, just down the road from where my parents were destined to meet, where my mom was working at the same time, as a secretary, for the them Lavino Shipping Company, now bought by the great British firm, INCHCAPE SHIPPING, at least as of the times when this century was just getting started. My father’s genetics were altered in a way that causes one to be more sensitive to fifth dimensional life. This was a result of this experiment conducted in total secrecy, by the War Department, later to become the Department of Defense, and part of the USAF and the great Bluebook Project. Both the father of Robert McGuire, and builder of the great Tennessee Avenue Pittsburgh Hotel and Erin Bar in 1903, as well as Victoria Callio’s brother, the parents of Frank and Sarah Callio, were all in on a few things, that pertained to the great secret experiment, and is even why today, they all own a secret machine, or several of them, that can indeed open up reality into the fifth dimension. I  learned the hard way that this can be done synthetically through electromagnetic recording of sound waves and using the right kind of sound, as opposed to what they all have and use, which is more along the lines of things way too classified for me to feel at all safe rambling on about on a blog. Still, my catching onto the entire mess, was all done in January of 1974, 39 years ago right to the very calendar days of present times. The entire story if ever told at a beginning point, and done in ways that average stories are indeed written in books, would be several encyclopedia’s long, I promise you all. There are things happening, all around this world, that make anything now that you could possibly view anywhere on the entire internet, seem like a child’s fable or kids messing around in a sandbox with toy dump trucks. If I lie, I die, right Daddy? Still folks, my dad did do some pillow talking, over a two week stay at the same apartment in Oaklyn, New Jersey, where the great Russell Thaxton came over at age fifteen, drunk as a whale, after he had just been molested sexually, by one of his special education teachers of the more acceptable ER days of middle December in 1969. I can never tell it all, but my father had nightmares from the time he was aboard the Eldridge, right up until; the day he died. Only some Morians by now, know that really, he did not have nightmares, but that the fifth dimension and the great ‘IF’, was ‘doing its own thing’, as gorgeous Valerie Bert said in that Gong Show song of hers back around the time era of 1979 that is if my memories are serving me within the limitations of normal channels in the STM. But weight watching or worlds doing their thing or not, reality is what it is just as the illustrious and eminent Dawn King used to put that so well, back in the late twenty ohs. This is just an opened door to a windy house with many breezes blowing and many glaring eyes staring, and we can get back to this later on, my pal Maverick Rockford, and other Morians. So before anyone gets loosened teeth, or files; let’s move on!

 

I could not help noticing, old friend, 001, that you edited out that line that was on the show at earlier times, the conversation in the bar, and the episode from close to a year back somewhere, with the gold and the crabs. I don’t own that you know, the gold, the crabs, or that age old story line. That has been around forever, and you don’t need to edit it out for my sake, but are you doing it so that my stuff remains further and further inside the great realm of endless obscurity? Yes, that must be it. Still, do I know that is the motive, am I psychic, sir. Well, to quote you, ‘let’s’ not be absurd, huh Herby? Sure, there are thousands if not a million peeps out there in the world some place, using the psychic game as a con to steal our money. Paula Uwich of Glendora, New Jersey is one of those, but you do not get the whole story, Patty. She really did have a major expanmsion of the feel sensory system. But yes, she also knew how to dig up stuff with a real network that psychics use, and not Dion’s network, but a ‘pre-Google’ intranet type of interconnected source material for sharing, and this is why she knew a lot about me in 1996 and 1997, and took 9200 dollars from me, but she did have a real expansion of the sense of feel, and there is no sixth sense, but some few out here, really do have a powerful extra amount, of extra sensory feeling. We all have some sense of feel, some have normal, some have less of it, some have more, some have really major expanded amounts, and PU was amongst that group. But all she wanted to do was triple the size of her home on the Black Horse Pike, using peeps like me, in torment, that needed real help, nopt separation from our money. So you keep right on preaching the word of anti-psychics 001, as after what trash like her did to me, at my most vulnerable time in my entire miserable frikkin life, there is not enough bad things you could say about her and her profession, for the most part. Hay, as with the episode following the edit-job, for reasons only you in Hollywood know; take the wrong person, and you may indeed need to throw a fire drink at somebody and run for your life. I admit that if I ever were to run into Paula Uwich, I would pick up that little 55 inch pip squeak by her miserable ugly old throat, and throw her half way across the pike. Better still, I’d take her after that, out to the middle of nowhere, and let DEEDEE feast on that miserable carcass. Anything I can do to be of service, lovely DEEDEE. How I love my huge ravens, and hawks and buzzards, and they all know me. Once the nature force makes contact with a human, in this biosphere; the creatures below the human kingdom, all know you, and you need only use a basic telepathic conversation with them, as they are on a five year old human level for the most part. We need not ramble on with any more of this, for right now, ladies and gentlemen, as there is always later.

 

 

Good people, I could tell so much, that you would go insane. For right now, I will just keep insisting, that there is literally a million pages of text, behind every single topic that I open up; either on this one particular blog, or any of them. Earlier this evening, someone or something hacked into my PC, and froze it up without my even being online. It was some Microsucks update system in fifteen parts, and it froze at 11 of 15 update, and would not release. My machine was totally off, not even on the sleeper mode where the dim orange light is on instead of the brighter blue light. Suddenly, poof, it pops on, and froze up for 90 minutes. I had to kill the power and restore the system, and eventually the updates finished and did their Bertrinelli thing. GONG, Sally Starr. Oh well, Letty, Midge, MY, mimicking is not only a great flattery, but it is something that certain families just seem to do within its vast long extending members, and maybe whether they are consciously aware of it or not. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, and End Tranny, sweet Granny!

MORIANITY-3, CHAPTER 3, KING NEBNOOSHOO THE OLD SNEAK, FIREFOX MCGUIRE

MORIANITY-3

CHAPTER-lll

 

10:18 PM-EST

JANUARY 28, MONDAY EVENING, 2013

 

 

 

Ladies and gentlemen and any other entities following Morianity, just so you know, the entire weekend, was totally SUPER BOTBAR.

 

Monday has been quiet for the most part, so far.

 

There is a lot to tell you, and it will not be done on this blog, but hopefully, on Chapter lV of Morianity-Chapter 3.

 

For Non Romans and Non entertainment Briggbase folks dreaming into conscious humanity, and those who never learned in school about the great Roman Numbers, lV  is the number 4. Spellchecker or MSC did not like the lV, to wit I reply, I do not need your permission to use Roman Numeration, thank you very much. The joke about so many things is that we all wait for twenty-one long years, to make the same stupid mistakes and do the same dumb things, that we once needed permission to do.

 

Oh well, this is not the time or the place, right Andy Gaines, if you’re still out there, or have joined my pal Timmy, maybe, but in any case, let us not get to festive and drunk with pre-vinegar-STM, or even think about doing anything wrong up at twenty-fifth and Orange, here in fort Pierce, as seemingly, a lot of wrong things do in fact, go down, up there, and why not, TT-ROY? Hay, if we cannot laugh and joke a little, through all of this horrendous nightmare, the only thing left to do is to break down, admirably and generally, and cry like little pathetic freaking babies, am I right or am I right?

 

I installed an AT&T Internet system, and have had a lot of trouble with my internet ever since. I will be going downstairs after midnight, shortly, to discuss things with the guard down there that gets on duty for his midnight shift, and who used to be employed with the great Dell Computers, may the Archangel Michael of Oakland Avenue, defend me with grace, Doctor McCoy of 1986, and other Deloris Humps.

 

I will tell you all, that I lost eight mother frikkin units playing my roulette system, over the weekend, and only made 42 units before that in the seven day period before the loss, a near system crash, if it loses a quarter or 25% of what I make in any prior seven days or seven games, whichever is a smaller number, it is considered to be a system crash for that week. That would be like our now 14,000 point Dow Jones Industrial Averages, being down a quarter in one week, to thirty-five hundred points less, or down around ten-four somewhere. Get the drift, Wendy Northwinds? I could not win over the weekend no matter how hard I tried. When I am attacked by the MILI-2-FORCE ENEMY, just as GAGA told me a few days ago, I CANNOT WIN AT GAMING AND LUCK situations, even hypothetical roulette on paper, and it works the very same way in ‘real life’ whatever that ‘really-is’. I learned this as the year of 1986 drew to a frikkin close!

 

There are many things to discuss, some are so major, that it is blowing my tiny little pathetic mind. Please try not to hate me so much, All mighty Jehovah Goddess, as IWALU, even if you do kill me someday. It’s your creation and you rule, and I have nothing to say about it, and need to obey you and get back on track, where I was, before the derailment of Glaring-oh-eight!

 

So no details will be told on this chapter, other than simply, I have placed my PC back to an earlier restore time point, and we will see if this helps in any way with my problems, as if it does not, then this woreless crap has to go, as that is how come this is all happening then, all though this [powerful thing recently done, has seemingly caused the hugest SPACE-TIME-MIND effect in the known hyperspace, dwarfing ‘MY’-INTROS on old tunes, or a hundred other things from following me back to high school all the way to the countless miracles done on Tennessee Avenue of good old Atlantic City, New Jersey. I really should not say a lot more, right Aunt Ruth and Uncle Heinz, even though it all started when I tried to download FIREFOX to see if changing internet browsers would make things better, and the entire world seemed to blow apart as a result, Highness Ramases.

 

Where are you when I need you, Sir Elton, and Sir Joel?

 

The ‘W’ word now, at Font-three trillion.

 

BYE-BYE, and END TRAN!

 

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

WORST COMPUTER HACK IN 7 YEARS OF BLOGGING, BFI AND FUCKING FCC

MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER ll

 

 

Yesterday was a super mother fucking BOTBAR for me, and today is following with a nasty BOTBUR, not a good sign, when a fucking weekend is wiped out, or when real bad Saturday’s and Sunday’s are created for me by the enemy WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE.

 

The attack this weekend has totally fucking centered around the UTILITES. Every day, there are many fire alarms again, so far none today, but it is only four in the after fucking noon. New people moved in here obviously, who are unfamiliar with our shitty easy to set off smoke and fire detection system. If folks would maintain and properly clean their stove top burners, their ovens, and be sure that the kitchen fan above the cooking device remains on during all cooking operations, and would monitor their activities, not laying down where they may fall asleep, and so forth, this would be reduced to a very rare activity. But then I could create a lot of perfect-world scenarios. Bruce Pennock from his days as a boy in his late teens, would put things quite well right about now, it is not a perfect world nor can it ever be, for a very simple reason. We are far from perfect, and as he would have gone onto say in the early and middle seventies, we’re all human.

 

Today, I went to turn on my Comcast TV, and I am not sure what is going on and who is playing games, but it worked just fine when I first activated it around 3, shortly after awakening from my late morning slumbers. Then suddenly after only seconds, it changed to all channels producing a screen saying ‘This channel should be available shortly, and all giving the same reference code, and that is all that would appear on the television screen. When I called, they told me an outage is happening in my area, well, that too is a normal event, as Bruce also would agree, I am sure, if none of us are perfect, then our technology certainly isn’t either, as we imperfect humans created it. Still, why is there an outage when it seemed to work just fine when I first activated the system? That is what I am finding difficult to totally buy into, and in lieu of the fact, that the computer attack was super mother fucking MAJOR, all day yesterday, an entire weekend, seemingly, of MAJOR ENEMY UTILITY ATTACK, and this kind of stuff is what I am forced to fucking suffer through and live with, every single time their evil fucking stock market is up at or around all time record cunt lapping highs, ever since this all began for me, in 1986, when 90%+ of the cock sucking time, their evil manipulated and cheated ICPE-APE markets, were indeed, on never ending mother fucking ALL TIMWE DAILY HIGHS, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year, until the very end of the century and into this one, when their evil wicked momentum finally slowed down after nearly a decade and a half or so of absurd bullish non ending stock market rallying and gaining. Then the news press crooks who are the puppets of the billionaires naturally, for those too ignorant to put 2 and 2 together and get a 4, would tell us all on the world news, year after year, totally different and opposing stories as to why markets were up so high, or when they would rarely correct downward for very short periods, also, the reasons for that. But follow this carefully as I was doing as sort of a ‘markets forced fan’, and it was blatantly obvious to even the biggest fucking retards, that this was a lie and total fiction. One year, oil going up meant the markets going down, and many other so-called absolutes and constants. But when the market would go up and up and up forever, no matter what other stuff was going on, they would be forced to come out and change their fucking tune completely, and this would go right over peoples’ head who were supposedly so smart and financially wise. It did not get past me however, and I saw right through all this demonic billionaire greed and filth and theft.

 

This all started in the summer of 1986 with me, and never looked back. When I first told the truth about deeper shit that I had begun remembering, after my last days in Jersey, and my early days here in Florida, folks seemed genuinely interested. You could type in KING NEBNOOSHOO, and get all sorts of information about my story, sanitized of course, but at least it was there and smart folks knew that where there was smoke, and no puns meant or should they in fact be; there was fire, and maybe even Dawn and McGuire, but for now, that’s all neither ‘hair’ nor there, right lovely Donna Gaines? Now, the owners of the internet, and the ANTICHRIST ITSELF, the All Mighty GOOGLE, have literally shot me down. They refuse to allow me to post my videos on the YOUTUBE to different accounts,m as I have three channels, KING NEBNOOSHOO, PHILLY 57 HOCKEY STICKS, and PAULAKING2011. The only place where this song that has meant nothing but gargantuan trouble for me for about a solid mother fucking year now, called; “YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER”, is at PAULAKING2011. When I try and post it to any other accounts by going to them, clicking the UPLOAD button, and attempting to add this song to these other channels, it always posts to the one and only one, paulaking2011. Finally, early this morning, the video was totally rejected by the YT for being a duplicate, and it should be rejected for being a duplicate, as this ass hole GOIOGLE YOUTUBE keeps insisting on putting it on only one of my three fucking cunt channels, and you can see it is up there about five times, with the railroad track cover scene, at that channel, paulaking2011. But early this coming week, I am going down to speak with the building security guard who has the graveyard shift, and who Debbie Morotto the Resident Manager, has informed me that he used to work for the DELL COMPUTER people, and he should be willing to try and help me for a few bucks after my February 3, 2013 disability money comes in, and if he cannot do anything, then he will be my witness, and will be subpenaed into court, when I file charges against the ALL MIGHTY ANTICHRIST GOOGLE FOR SANCTIONING MY RIGHT TO GET MY STORY OUT TO THE WORLD, MY TRUE AND POWERFUL REAL LIFE STORY, and not some Patterson fiction. I will go to court and I will have the local media all around, because I can produce real powerful shit that will not be able to be ignored, and once shit starts in this country, then try stopping it folks. My entire life has been destroyed by these offshoots of Robert McGuire and Sarah Callio, going all the way to crossed over bridges, and telephone taped daughters from long ago. Oh yes, will we be crossing over all bridges successfully, or end up drowned, on a famous bridge in Massachusetts? You all know that I am telling you a powerful bunch of truths, and admitted from the start, that I am doing my best to put a billion little puzzle pieces all together. You try doing better if you’re all so Rubik Cube Einsteinian out here.

 

If you can do better, and see past the horizons that I’ve managed to reach from my best mountain top views, and fittingly so, well, why not help a dude out and contact me and tell me your greater version of fucking wisdom? First of all, there are two truths that appear to conflict, when really, if carefully observed and scrutinized correctly; they actually compliment each other. I speak of how I claim that enemies intentionally effecting my life negatively through continuous covert and stealthy attacks, 24-7-365.2422 for 25-50 years now, indeed brings down the force of personal luck and life in general gets darker and hellish as this process forever appears to unrelentingly fucking continue. Yet, on my worst as well as my best days, I would be first man at the gate, to come out and admit to anyone who wants to know, that there are constants that no amount of shit done to me by the PROJECT BLUEBOOK MILITUFORCE (IF) bastards, would vhange one tiny microscopic bit. If I were to jump off of a tall building or strike a person on the head with a huge plank or rock, the same reality would become the net result. If I did a mathematical calculation properly and correctly, 2+2 would always be 4, 50 times 30 would always be 1500, and the square or the square root of any number, would also remain exactly the same as well, and on and on I could go. There would still be one and only one number for PI, and it still would never come out to a totally exact diameter to circumference ratio to the closed curve (circle), and a square will never be a circle, nor will these shapes in geometry ever be a trapezoid or a triangle, and so forth. These are not changeable realities. On my best or worst day as far as my enemies attacking me are concerned, if I throw a brick through a store window in front of a police person, I am going to be arrested and jailed, and if I were to miraculously be handed the winning jackpot lottery ticket, it would win and the state would have to pay out to me the 800,000,000 dollars minus the taxes. This my fiends and friends is a part of the new roulette system that UI am not going to get into, at least not with life being this totally fucked up and dangerous for me, as it has been now all fucking century and millennium long. Some things will remain constants, but then there are all those other things that DO NOT REMAIN CONSTANTM, but rather, will indeed alter, as the OTAMMIC WEATHER alters. I have tracked this in my life since the middle eighties, and I really do feel and believe folks, that this is a long enough period where I can state with reasonable degrees of accuracy; that this is real, this works, and this monstrous shit is indeed being carried out by my ”IF” ENEMIES, and has been the case, ever since this began for me in the early eighties, and worsened as these filthy rotten eighties progressed along into the nineties. For a quick example that is pertinent 100%+ to me right now this weekend, the markets ended up last week at record highs, up every single business day, up many hundreds of points on the week, and up thousands of points in this month and year of 20-lousy-13. This is not a good trhing, not for me, not for 99% of any of you reading this, and is only a good thing for the world owners who want nothing other than to totally control and own all of us, all of our lands and possessions, the whole mother fucking ball of 27 foot wax. Yes, that wonderful fucking electrical number of 3 cubed. I told the blogs how in when else, but middle 1984 somewhere, while living in a rented home owned by another Patterson family of Cinnaminson, New Jersey, at 1406 Highland Avenue; I had a powerful, what else is fucking new for me folks; ”DREAMING INTERACTION”, or nocturnal experience, where I was at the then existing Atlantic City, GOLDEN NUGGET HOTEL AND CASINO, and a storm came up, and LIGHTNING came right down onto the roulette table where I was sitting at and playing, and went right through the number RED-ODD-27. Then her adorable voice that only the copyright Office has, really humanly SSJKK at two years of age via the original internet telephone system of the Ingrid Very Old Club; and she spoke the unforgettable Nat ‘King’ Cole words to me, that went, I am number 27, little boy, that is my number, I AM the electron, or what you call electricity and lightning. It is a slight paraphrase, as the precise words are dam close to this, but are forgotten now, and the tapes I had once where I reported for my TAPED LIFE JOURNAL, are of course, all now cleverly removed from me, by the KI*NG family, very distant cousins of my wonderful kid, but still, cousins. They did not want me having records of these things, any more than YOUTUBE wants me to have the few things left that I did manage to get down here with me to fucking Florida, lovely full moons and all, both now, and a couple months from now, or should I say in an adorable voice too cute to humanly imagine, copyright Office, ”I KNOW”?????????? I am unable to resist the temptation any longer, so sorry folks, and Mister Japanese Ambassador, W—-O—-W!

 

Isn’t there anything you can do to help me, Fred Hinger, Derrijo of Cherry Hill, Mirrors Craig, and others out here and they all know who they are? Why do you leave me here to suffer endless fucking cunt torment and everlasting burning cock licking hell, why, why Jimmy why, secret Bohemian diner meetings and all, just tell me frikkin why!

‘ENDTRAN’!

WORST HACK OF THE YEAR 2013, FBI AND FCC

Saturday, January 26, 2013

WORST FUCKING COMPUTER HACKING OF THE YEAR, FEDS

I WILL BE AT THE MIAMI FIELD OFFICE OF THE BFI, GOOGLE SCUM, FOR ALL THIS ILLEGAL FUCKING HACKING, COME MONDAY.
THEY KNOW EVERY MOVE I MAKE AND WILL NOT STOP FUCKING WITH ME, FCC, AND FBI.
I HAVE FIVE FUCKING ILLEGAL SO-CALLED ANTIVIRUS SYSTEMS THAT REFUSE TO LET ME WORK THE MACHIBNE AND ILLEGALLY GOT ONTO MY MACHINE, AND WILL NOT GO OFF NO MATTER HOW MANY MOTHER FUCKING TIMES I RECYCLE BIN AND EMPTY IT. I AM GOING BACK INTO TIME NOW AND YOU WILL BE SORRY, MOTHER FUCKER, AND IT IS JUST GETTING WORSE, FEDERAL AGENTS, AND THIS IS A MAJOR FUCKING VIOLATION OF MY CUNT EATING CIVIL FUCKING RIGHTS

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0059

ELEVEN AT NIGHT ON THE 3^RD OF FEBRUARY

THURSDAY, 2011, HERE AT MY RESIDENCE

THE 26^TH STREET GHETTOS OF FORT PIERCE,

FLORIDA, USAESMWG

WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 020311.960

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

How I have this computer and who bought it for me will remain secret for the time being. Lives could be in a lot of danger. Also beginning now on this blog, no more text writing will be done, I am tired of all the wavy lines, for now I am accepting that society is controlling the every move and direction of the population, and we all are quite obviously powerless to do anything about it. I suppose that you know my Morians and other readers that it is so funny and beyond amazing, how the majority of us all now does in fact know, but just gave up. We know we all are under the total control of the wealthiest scum bag world owners who sold all of us down the river and fully intend to make slaves out of us, if they have not basically all ready accomplished their goal even as I stinking speak. Oh but those little things still do count to us little squashed people. Just being able 2 blog again from the comfort of my nice ghetto home without trekking over to the public library, only to be annoyed perpetually, if not by “Stink-Boy”, or machines all hogged up, or annoyers next to my work station, and so much more.

I said one little thing about the Washington politics on my last blog the other day from the library, and POW, the very next day, my bosses there cut my hours down from 25 to 18, a 7 hour weekly loss, as I am in a government funded program of employment through the AARP system. But it was totally OK for a ‘powerful person’ of the world such as Dick Wolf to make the big statement that agrees totally with me and MORIANITY, made just tonight on one of the 3 L&O episodes, about how the jury nullification was the fault of, and I quote, “Dow Jones”.

Tomorrow, the internet will be installed, if things go according to plan, something I never can count on under my horrific HUNTINGTON CURSE, as the Comcast Cable Company will be hooking me up to the internet system.

Speaking of system recovery and computers, several things lost on my ‘poofed’ out last blog that never made it out to the world, will be discussed on this blog. One thing of great importance, that I discussed, and was lost; is that psychic power and psychics are real, the handful of them that are real that is, as yes, the great majority of them are merely con job artists. If I ever could show and prove to this world some of the shit that I have seen and witnessed, it would blow society away overnight, despite all of Hollywood and their attempt to mind control the population and dominate the entire sociological structure.

I am up in the future nearly two years, Nick. It is me, and I know a lot of things back there, that I did not know before.

Underline that, rubber repairman, in any color from queens to kings to space-time-mind valves.

Hay David Bacon, you thief, go wash your own hands you simpleton buttwipe, you, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! E/T.

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Labels: BLACK-HAT-CRACKERS, COMPUTER HACKING

MAJOR HACKING BOB MCDOWELL, MORIANITY-3-CHAPTER l

MORIANITY 2

JWC2, DAY 00036, BLOG-B

 

JANUARY 26, 2013, 9:05 PM-EST

 

DEAR JOURNAL, THE NAME OF THIS BLOG IS NOT RESORTS INTERNATIONAL HOTEL AND CASINO INTERCOME PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEMS OF 1983 AND THEIR POTENTIAL MISUSE, BUT MORE ALONG THE LINES OF

 

THE SANITIZING OF TRUTH—MAIN TITLE

 

THE DOUBLE HORIZON KNOWLEDGE BARRIER—SUBTITLE

 

MORIANITY-3 COMING TO AN INTERNET NEAR YOU—ALL TITLES

 

 

Now folks, this will be short and sweet, and that’s a dam promise. I’ve learned that I am much better off speaking to the readers’ subconscious, whoever the readers may be, and that is a very large barrel of cosmic possibilities, Mizz Elizabeth Montgomery Twitchynose.

 

I got the crap knocked out of me by SSJKK in my sleep, and I am not allowed to tell more than the reason why SHE did this. It seems that I forgot something that she told me to do, and she gave me way too much credit for my powers of potentially being a charter member in the very exclusive club, cosmically secretly known as the ES, or the ‘EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND’.

 

LSS, I got beat to a pulp for not remembering to do some things, first, rereading my own older blogs from late oh-7 and early oh-8, and see exactly where the course was heading with these blogs, before a powerful derailment occurred, and that is no pun, GOOGLE YOUTUBE, as SHE is awake as well as asleep, and I was with the real SSJKK, and not HER living entity here, and that is what really counts. She does do a O.W. Network with the land, and She does indeed, RULE THE EMPIRE, evil or not, and I must OBEY my TQ, as my shellfish days are over, OR ELSE, to quote the All mighty.

 

‘OH SHIT’, the ‘SECRET’ is out ‘GOOGLE’, that little old me, ‘CAN FLY’, and all the way from 1984, over to the great Camden City Andrews Shipyards, and then right back again, to all the queries of ‘What’s Wrong’ with the universe, since this very era; and then soon to follow, along came the most mysterious person in my life, to quote ADA-RON WIRTZ SENIOR, of the CCPO, in New Jersey, and that would be; high degreed Mason, Sir DAVID CHARLES ROTH, no less. Only much greater powers than him exist, as the great Petee Pote, and all Popes, from Somerdale Police Chiefs, to sovereign nations like Vatican City, and its RULER; all know so well. So many ask me still, will there really be a great mile high roller coaster built in Wildwood, New Jersey in the middle twenties, completed in the late spring time of twenty-thirty-one? Absolutely, in many many universes in the hyperspace. Will it be where you and I are living? Who can know the answer to things like this, unless we first learn how to conquer a little enemy of wisdom thing, called the DHKB or ‘DOUBLE HORIZON KNOWLEDGE BARRIER’. It is just like the title of it implies, ladies and gentlemen. Every time we begin to learn more truths and more things, we also learn that there is so much more we need to learn, that we endlessly know a lesser percentage of potential wisdom and things. It really is no ‘secret’ or (PCN-671) and many smart folks figured this little truth out a long time ago. I did not invent the old saying that the more you know, the more you know you don’t know. Still, I have been given marching orders to begin MORIANITY-3, and in this, will simply be chapter numbers, no titles or subtitles, all given in Roman Numerations, and the course that the original Morianity was on, before my 70-day 2008 sabbatical happened, will indeed be resumed, returned back to, and if the gods will it, perhaps even someday successfully completed. And thank you for the wisdom sir, diner doors and drug store 12 July days, ANWG-660!

 

MORIANITY-3———————–CHAPTER I.

 

Shorty, this will be a shorty. I created you, and I can remove you, any time I want to. I can remake the same tape that I made in the fall of 1979 or early part of 1980, from my home at 112 East Fifth Avenue, in Mantua, New Jersey, USA-ES-MWG. Then, I can reverse the tape and keep making new analogue recordings of the reverse tape sound, until you vanish just as suddenly and mysteriously, as you pooped up in everybody’s life in 1984, DJBT.

 

Maybe you’ll die with a big grin on your face, maybe not, as that’s entirely your own business, kind sir. I have no power to stop your out of control DOW JONES, or your horrible effects on my family. But I will eliminate you from the surface of this planet, if you keep messing with me, you evil arrogant prick.

 

Now for the record folks, I am not putting the double blue lines under any of the blogs on my blogger dot com blogging. I do not know who is doing it, or why, and this is why from now on, I am not doing anything except for capitol lettering, and punctuations. No color, no underlining, and as Diana would put it so perfectly in 1983 over the telephone, to me; ”NO NOTHING”

 

Before I log off, I asked the GAGA CAT a short while back, just what number out of the 81 PCN’S, most adequately addresses the strange glarry eyed dude that wanted to hear what was spoken to me in that 2008 interaction, and has haunted me in ‘dreams’ forever so it seems, and I got a very wild response, from the random card draw; PCN-615. I have but three items that are in my canons for this number, and they’re as follows: ‘DEEDEE’,’PRISON’,  and ‘ELEVEN HUNDRED STATE STREET’. What are you up to Paula Uwich, you witch, and say hi to the value sisters of caller-ID-land.

 

E/T—————————————————————–

MORIANITY 2, JWC2, DAY 00036, BLOG-A

 

             MORIANITY 2

 

                        JWC2, DAY 00036, BLOG-A

 

All evening, my ass hole nabes were in and out, but at least the doors were not slamming real loud.

 

I know exactly why all the things that happen around me, happen, nobody is fucking fooling me for one cunt lapping minute, and that means nobody, not the super wealthy dirt bags involved, not any of their pizza employees and other dirty deed doers that own fire brooms, and plenty of land as well as all other things, just as OCCUPY used to say, before they all gave up and disbanded, and we now, AND JUST AS I SAID WOULD HAPPEN, are right back with the EVIL EMPIRE in total fucking control and at ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS ON THE STOCK MARKET, meaning doom for us 99ERS.

 

This day would be a pretty nasty BOTBAR if not for a couple of pluses that went my way. One is the discovery a short while ago, only a few hours, late last night, that I had totally miscalculated something that is just too complex to get into pertaining to my roulette system, and that is only for openers. All I’ll fucking tell is that the system has not crashed. No it did not make a ton of money, but it is struggling along, despite ALL TIME MARKET RECORD HIGHS, and many PROMISES TO A SPECIAL NIGHT LADY, NAMED GIANT GINA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU, sweetie.

 

I had major ‘DREAMS’ again, and knew it from the second I ‘awoke’, to use forward-mortal lingo here. But I could not pull anything up, and my consciousness was totally blocking it out, as that to be quite frank and honest, good peeps, is its job. The less you remember about your life in hyperspace, the better your conscious mind is doing its job. Still, you need not remember consciously to awaken real happy, real angry, real sad, and all of the many other emotions ranging from sheer overall terror to total unexplainable bliss. This comes from not remembering details, yet as I told you all, and yes GINA, we need not always be discussing the fucking stock market, honey cakes; but all of the universes indeed do connect up, from any present awake point we all are at continuously. After all, if you were treated monstrously at your job in a ‘dream’ and awoke and then the boss started to give you hell hell, you would be much more likely to react negatively to it, than if the ‘DREAM’ had not happened, so think about all the stuff that MORIANITY has preached to you now for over seven years, and don’t be so dam mother fucking quick to dismiss it as space cadet tin foil hat nuttiness.

 

No, the roulette never crashed, but Ida gone on thinking it had and never stared playing again on this super ass system that WILOL NOT be shared, for obvious reasons, until and unless my life ever somehow drastically improves, a tremendously unlikely event, folks, like DUH! So what did happen folks. Well, it has to do with two powerful and very name recognized persons, one from ‘dream-land’ experience, and the other while later awake and watching some TV. I am not willing to say more at this point in Watergate Time, with or without bright lights, scowling faces, big egos, scandals of the seventies, or senators.

 

As soon as I began remembering the DREAM however, this past evening, as this is now five past one on Saturday morning, the NABE SHIT started up with precision fucking time piece clockwork. Thank you so much for being so very nice and understanding, David Leigh Smith, in October of 1970, as you really did me a giant favor, or else to this very day, I would think I am just totally crazy, and that is exactly what the IF bastards and or the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE wants me to do, and I’m not in the habit of doing favors for enemies, any more than are two great peeps from 1897 in the world of very darkened shadows that do not dwell a lot by day, not on Park Avenue in Westmont near the Delaney residence anyway, wo girl, all these hockey sticks are really putting the bite on me, so let me fly the hell out of here with this little news tip, Donald.

 

I know a whole hell of a lot more, than any of you cock sucking WORLD OWNERS HAVE A CLUE THAT I KNOW, and I know shit about each and every one of you, so take that to fucking bed with you tonight you crumbs!

 

As Luke Skywalker might say now, ‘E.T. Get’ with it MSC!

   

        555555555555555555555555555

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MORIANITY 2, JWC2, DAY 00035, BLOG-A, ANTI-OLD-SNEAKS, DAVID OLGA-86

     MORIANITY 2

 

            JWC2, DAY 00035, BLOG-A

 

 

My days of internet and blogging will also be over shortly after I get my YOUTUBE garbage down. It is a total waste of time, when I am being sanctioned by the ANTICHRIST, and the PROJECT BLUEBOOK PEOPLE. I refuse to waste my time, when I can just drive to Mexico, and get the fucking hell out of this hell and misery, once and for all; and refuse to play this monstrous mother fucking game, with these sick and twisted despicable people out here. You poor pathetic losers. Keep on believing I’m just a crackpot, and that this concept of your antichrist is an actual single personality, such as you see in those religious films on religious channels on TV, when really, it is G—O—O—G—L—E.   

 

Ever since 1997 when Fred Winstein helped me to some degree, to buy a computer, where he worked over at Radio Shack; and helped me set it up, along with his pal, another employee from his store, named Mirrors Craig; the man with two faces, and we need not touch this piece of hell right now; but way back then; he could not understand why nothing ever works for me on a computer, such as for one example, when I attempted to download ‘Firefox’ last night as my default browser, and it does not work today at all, even though the little ball icon is up on the screen as it was last night.

 

This no more started happening around me in 2007, 1997, 1987, 1977, or even 1967, shortly after meeting SarahKrassle, ‘humanly’, as SARAH; for the first time in late June of 1965, on Tennessee Avenue, of Atlantic City. No, this has been going on with the Huntington fucking family, for over 2000 years, right around the time that the Popes knew that only certain things could dare to be put into the religious record, while other Bluebook Truths, needed to not only remain out of it forever, along with roof pushes, strong frog changes, and drowned girlfriends; and lots more Bluebook nightmares, I am quite sure; but still, I thought it fitting to see what just might happen, should I try and add fire brooms, and fire foxes, into the mix; and especially in lieu of nosy Mister Donald, sticking it where it doesn’t fucking belong. Go ahead you sick old bitch, buy the Times, buy TIME ITSELF if you think it can erase a life of devil worship, but your end is right around the corner, as is WFMU, and WAYV; and for that matter, all of the entire sick twisted evil demonic shit all over this mother fucking planet. It is very soon about to be burned up and endlessly destroyed. It may not fall into your conscious mind illusion for thousands, millions, maybe billions of years, but I have seen this world, all charred to ash, with a glowing humongous red star that once was our loving son, scorching the entire inner solar system, and this is your fate, all of you, and you will rot and burn in endless fiery hell, you sick dirty rotten mother fucking jerk offs.

 

So you just go on hurting me and hating me all you want, and you too Mister Potter’s employee, and you too, Charles Delaware Tate. See you all in hell, to quote my grandmother, to her own daughter, after her daughter murdered her, and she lay on the bathroom floor, bleeding out, back in either late 1964, or the end of 1963, somewhere, on Ranstead Street, in the slums of Philadelphia. My very mentally disturbed aunt was forcing her mom to tell where she had hidden her pills, and my granny wouldn’t fork them over, as she knew that more pills would make her worse, either way, daughter killed mother. My family is loaded with tragedies like this one, as with the one in Braintree, Massachusetts back around early in February of 1948, when my cousin, Arthur Huntington, son of Herbert, murdered his wife and mother in law in their sleep in the house, and then went into the basement and strung himself up with a fucking cunt lapping nasty noose. ‘AGHGHGHAHCKCK’, well, if he did it right and snapped his neck, he did not have to choke and suffer, any more than did his wife and her mother, my Aunt Alice and great aunt Rebecca or ‘whatever’ her name was, Congressman.

 

When you come from a wonderful family like mine, and then come to learn that in each generation, someone not given an option or choice in the matter whatsoever, is forced to do a cosmic Dark Shadows Morgan Collins, and become the CURSED HUNTINGTON, well, now you know why I wonder if another OJ trial is not around the corner. This is why I plan to get all my YOUTUBE stuff down, as I should not have tape recorded my daughter as a teenager in the first place, over the telephone, and also, I should not have posted those projects up without asking her for permission first. So to prevent another huge family ‘incident’ to put it delicately, I am pulling everything off, and not allowing ANTICHRIST GOOGLE to influence my mind through their powers of ETTOS or the PAWM-PIE, to ever again use any of their social media bull shit junk. You missed me today Janeyslut.

How would you put that now, Mike McNulty, old pal; working at the CFS Printing Plant of 1971, ‘AHA-AHA-AHA’????????

 

 

 

 

 

I am left to understand one fact better than any other, well, really two of them. First, my curse is unbreakable and is worse than anybody’s present maxed out concept of eternal hell. Second, it is all just a game, being played by a wild teenage girl, by the name of Sarah Krassle, the great All Mighty 363, and not always, such a real good girl, but I suppose, she tries, so I’ll give her that much, huh Bobby McGuire. Have you ruined anyone else’s property or lit anything up????????????????????????????????????????

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

END TRANSMISSION, E.T., END TRANNY GRANNY, ETC, ETC.

 

 

              555555555555555555555555555555555

 

MORIANITY 2, JWC2, DAY 00034, BLOG-A, Bob McDowell, sir

 

 

 

      MORIANITY 2

 

                       JWC2, DAY 00034, BLOG-A

 

 

 

 

 

10:40 AM-EST, at Fort Pierce, Florida, Mark Wayne Mohr, recording and reporting, for the record, on the record; and by the record.

 

 

 

 

There is a lot to tell, and just as when I was not online for just over two weeks, that seemed more like closer to two months; I may again, only post several blogs together for a while, so as to leave the humongous compilation up there on my two sites, front and center for a while. Speaking of this, when I tried to post them up, both of my sites made it extremely difficult for me to do. Many changes were made in those short sixteen days or so that I was offline, and even my AT&T installer, told me that it is weird, and that he never witnessed anything like what happened to me. He hooked me up, and many pages that were supposed to still be there, were no longer available, and is all part of my ‘control pages’, as I have come to call them. This is what keeps me a nobody in this world, and never recognized for things that I have done, not ever; and not by anyone, because it is totally fixed; and these secret covert fucking cunt sanctions that are imposed on me, are as real as any heavy hefty Krassle Motorcycle chain, could ever be used to bind anything.

 

 

 

First I’ll give the update report since my last post up, and since blog JWC2, DAY 00033, BLOG-A, ended the last updates, on what is ongoing around me. Things have gotten strange, and persecution is looming around me like the impending cosmic doom of a rapidly approaching meteorite.

 

 

 

But first things first at seven minutes shy of eleven this Thursday morning, YO. At just a few minutes before the last hour, and right about one hour ago, after already being newly awake for the day, a loud squeal came over my off hook telephone AT&T landline, and all ‘Cifaloglio Garage’ or copied New York condo karate kicks shortly thereafter, notwithstanding!!!!!!!! I had very recently awakened out of a horrible ‘dreaming interaction’ experience, and it will most definitely be shared, as this is going lately, on a severe, and very fucking nasty-ass roll; peeps. Before going on with this, as I may not have been all that clear about many things on my long compilation blog, since there was way too much to cram into one post as I did, but felt that I had no choice; so I  wish to now clear up, that my roulette systems all crashed and burned, both during those horrific BOTBAR ATTACKS, that followed a nice string of short BACK-OFF DAYS. The negative effects on me, appears to be empowered more by a huge ‘CONTRAST’, than most other things; and whether the OTAMMIC MILI-2-FORCE or the ‘IF’ realizes this or not, or for that matter, even cares; but this indeed, is what does me the most mother fucking cunt lapping severe damage, every single cock sucking time!!!!!! But I need to get back to the details of what this nice fellow and AT&T installer, told me early yesterday afternoon, while hooking me back into the frikkin internet. Before I do, yes, I altered some personal plans, and the details of it are nobody’s business, unless I should decide to make this public information; as obviously somebody offered me a deal, that I could reasonably work into my extremely limited financial budget; and so I am back now, having a phone, an internet; and some low tier cable television; and I am with two different services, and will be most likely, throughout most, if not the remainder of this year of 2013. I am actually saving quite a bit, and have lost nothing, and how does one say no to a great deal, especially when they normally are on the receiving end of the shittiest possible deals anywhere, all their god dam frikkin life? Now that will be it for the details of how I am back again online, much sooner than anticipated, good folks, YO. 

 

 

 

Yes, things were pretty much ascertained, that I am indeed being stopped from getting anyone to view my works on the crooked YOUTUBE, and as I said, all the views up there, are my own attempts to hook up hyperlink connections, into my two blogs, at WordPress, and Blogger. Also, WordPress was fairly hard to post yesterday, but Blogger was nearly impossible, and refused to post my document entirely, from my open office pages, and only finally would it post this up eventually, on a cut and paste job, directly from the copy posted up at the WordPress site. I hope, my old school chum from Fort Wayne, Indiana, Bob McDowell, and now Chairman and Overseer of the Federal Communications Commission;  is seeing, and witnessing, all of the shit that’s happening to me, now; and for all my seven plus mother fucking years of internet blogging; as there aint no cunt eating way, that any of this endless persecution; is just some coincidence;  and we all know it, or else; we should all take some advice that I gave to my kid in 1986, and get back, not to Rod Stuart, and Maggie May; but older fans of the late sixties, and the early seventies music; get the fucking picture here, I’m quite sure, YO. Maybe we might learn something as well, this time around. And then, maybe not.

 

 

 

You missed me Jane Dirtweeds Sleazedisease, HEE-HEE. It is thirteen minutes past fucking eleven this morning!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, when an AT&T employee in the installation game, who is experienced, and not a real young person; tells me that something is up, and weird, and wrong, and going on somewhere, with me, with all of this; it more than confirms to my mind at least, Uncle Heinz Gottwald Late Sir, of Babylon, New York, up in your big ass mansion, on Peninsula Drive; that none of this is some psychotic delusion, or paranoid persecution features, on my part; and that mental illness and disease, has nothing whatsoever to so with any of this hell that I have been suffering through, since ‘WOMO’ started chocking me to death, on June fourth, in 1983; and from there, things kept progressing along worse and worse;  and by middle of August in 1986, my residence was literally switched from Planet Earth, to Outer Darkness Center-Land-Underworld, or AKA ”HELL”. The reason that my shit is still fucking up on the YOUTUBE, is COURT EVIDENCE, and things that my ‘IF-ENEMIES’ in human bodies, do not need to know about for my sake, will be kept every bit as fucking HUSH-HUSH and stealthy-covert, as they like to play the game with fucking ass me. Hay BRO, there is a 50 yard line here, as well as in that wonderful game of fucking ass football; and nothing happens in the rules of that game, on the one side of it, that does not apply to the other side of it. So I refuse to let my life, be turned any longer, into a mother fucking less of a fair ass arena, than any fan of football, would expect, let alone tolerate; in a football fucking game. Now to discuss the major fucking ‘nightmare’ that woke me up this morning, right before the telephone squeal sound, that was as unpleasant as hell. Well, both attacks sucked, but the nightmare was truly like my lovely blond Amy, from long ago; in a league all her own, blond to blond; right Copyright Examiners? What is with yellow paper and hair?

 

 

 

I was up at the Harvest place at the Corner of 25^th and Orange, caddy corner to the no longer used branch of the Walgreen’s Pharmacy, as I only deal with the branch now on route One, where I do not feel cheated, and intimidated, and fucking cunt ‘MESSED WITH’, so ‘who is it’, Gawky L&O?

Again, this is, what you all would label as; ‘my dream’. I see things extremely fifth dimensionally, and need to make sure to clarify myself, and write stuff in a more normal, and down to Earth fashion; or folks will hear things that could get me locked up; as in all five dimensions, all sorts of wild stuff is going on in my life, and yours as well folks, but you refuse to entertain anything but a cave-person, and dinosaur attitude,  towards the subject of nocturnal activities. As an old pal’s dad said to me quite often back in 1966, Charles Ponti, from Westmont, New Jersey; ”Mark, you cannot expect others to acclimate themselves to you, so you will need to acclimate to them”. Well, I won’t of course, hence my life as it stands at age 58 years and six and a half frikkin weeks; but that’s my concern. Still, for the purposes of improved clarity, and having my blogs understood better; I cannot just go all out speaking, of my entire fifth dimensional life, in its fullness; as if it is one real and total reality; from the reference point and view, of any one waking world universe and reality. When I forget that from time to time, get old Mark Hamill to smack me on the head, and may I spend a few hours or days with that lovely punk rocker, YO; wow she rocks my fucked up world, BRO. So back now to the really bad ass nightmare, that notice again, my loyal MORIANS, going all the way back on these blogs to October fifth in 2008 after waking up from being up in Suffolk County in Long Island, and then telling Diana one little thing, and then BANG, that horrible MILITUFORCE CHOPPER ASSAULT, out of nowhere, as if ‘they’ were just waiting to activate an ‘on’ switch, in some higher locale of reality. Read it, it is all there. So there I am at the Harvest place, and their web address is as follows: http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and I was working there again, and had entirely different bosses. Things were even more hellish than they were in this universe, back between June the eighth of twenty-ten, and the eleventh of March of twenty-twelve, when ‘Jessica Deal With This Later Grant’, fired me. Aniwho, lads and lassies, I came out of the experience, told Diana on the telephone that I just popped out of a nightmare, sound familiar 10-05-08?, and then came the loud fucking civil rights violating squeal sound over the telephone. Fortunately, my ear was not right at the receiver at the time. There will come a day when I represent myself, if they ever damage me, and I do not regenerate again. Fair is fair; love, war, and moms of James Stuart, or Frank Capra. Hay, I love AT&T, but as Whitney might say if she still was around, this does not ‘crack’ me up in the smallest bit.

 

 

 

Now the details of this nightmare, centered around the end of it, all though the entire time, I was working there and things were totally deplorable, and people were too; even more so than they were here, during my peak time of hell up there in the frikkin past, in this universe, (the waking world) you would all say. As this all drew near the end of this shitty experience, I was up at the front area there and things were totally arranged differently. I had been expected to move some food bins into an area, and had no idea that I was supposed to do this, actually this other doppelganger me didn’t, but through his eyes, and my being a recessive entity within him, as a TYPE-1-EXPN; I totally knew what he knew, at least about the job, and what was required of me in order to properly perform my work related duties and tasks. Out of the blue, and after the offices were all dark and empty, the big boss lady who is not anyone from this parallel reality over here, came up to me, and really reamed me out, for not doing this particular thing. I told her that I would be happy to take care of it, but she just kept balling me out, like there was no tomorrow about it, and that shouting at an employee was about to be outlawed in 24 hours. She was relentless,  and totally evil, and mean. Suddenly I also noticed that her husband was standing next to her, but quietly, not saying a word. He was bigger, and heavier, and older, than I usually see him in dream-land; but it was him, and yes sir, the glarry eyed man again; from the library, and from Judge Raso’s magical windy door slamming house of 2008. Does this require a WOW yet, good Morian folks? The plus out of this day, would be that at least he did not make me call him ”Vasco”, or start belting out in his baritone voice, my song from 1999, ”Atlantic Queen”, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! The emotion of the total meanness of his wife however, still remains trapped in my emotional well being, hours later while ‘awake’ back here in this reality while I am typing this story into a blog, for my viewers to soon read. The more you do live fifth dimensionally, my good people; the more your dream-life will heighten in its emotion, and have many other effects back in your waking world tuned in universe consciously, not just with memory and feeling, but with actual connections in realities, universe to universe, and we have only brushed open this topic with ‘Sarah’s 1983 fire-broom’, and when I really get into it, most likely and you watch and you all remember my words; the USAF Bluebook folks, WILL certainly shut me down, one way or the other, and of course, covertly, making it look so totally innocent.

 

For right now, I am going to relax with a snack, and four hours of my favorite television show, none other than the one and only, non George Burns, ”Law & Order”, YO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Folks, it is seconds shy of seven this evening right now. I enjoyed L&O and a nice meal. Things were mostly quiet around here today, and I’m doing a McDonald’s about it. If I had my fucking ass way, I would live in a mausoleum a mile underneath ground, and never again hear a single sound, for all fucking cunt lapping eternity. Screw the planet. I hate everybody, and I hate everything. If Michelle Daniels gives me the special green-light-permission, without any lines or barriers, to have my opinion; then that’s frikkin good enough for dick licking poor ugly old me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ”YUK”!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

I’ll tell you why I like being very solitary and sedate, even if it only makes Melanie Safka, and her magical brand new key happy; back in the early seventies. First, I truly do not think the way that others do. How can I once I observe the worlds around me, with two additional dimensions, than other folks do? Did you ever wonder not so much where the shadows dwell by day, or any other things that maybe you wish you knew or the thoughts you cannot say, back in 1983; with or without, any music and songs, and Copyright Offices, and mafia insurance, and so much more; but did you ever ever  wonder peeps, just why we basically, as a race of humans;  require an average of nine and one half hours, out of the 24 hour day; for sleeping? Well, that is a fascinating argument that is not ever going to be ‘court proof’ to anything, but it is mathematically quite fascinating, and here’s Y: This period of time is roughly two fifths of the day, and the two fifths of the dimensional experience that we all move into, while ‘being asleep’; equals out here with this, just as perfectly as the light travels around the world about one seventh of a second, and we are all conscious to instantaneous pieces of time of about, yes you guessed it; one seventh of a frikkin second; lets get this over with, Tommy Reale, W—O—W!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

But there is a second reason folks, why I would enjoy a life of super solitude where literally I never would have to encounter another human fucking being ever again, and I’ll bet donuts to coffee fucking ass beans, that not one of you reading my blogs, has the answer, until you read on and get it from me now. I’ll bet you three billion fucking USD right here and right now, with low or high blood pressure, Lenny McKinnon’s 1981 girlfriend, or my hero up in future newer times, Miss lovely Anita Van Buren of ‘L&O’. Here goes, in regular time, © Examiners, and with a lot of heat on your feet, if you’re secretly out there MJ, and we all know my blogs, and what they said on ‘WordPress’, ‘Blogger’, ‘UM’, and ‘MIND’; back in the late summer time of OH-M-9, and it takes no Lynn Noon Noonan Exotic dancer fiance’ of Robert Cheatley, and her lightning laughing, from 1985; to see all this; if you’d all just fucking take the blinders off your dam ass eyes. ‘DAWN KING is the answer’, and also, even though she took away my entire life; she did me the world’s most humongous fucking favor folks. I no longer wish to date, or be married, or have anything to do with anyone, ever again;  not after her, and that evil family from HELL!!! E.T. No puns.

 

PERFECT TIME FOR A POST SCRIPT, ON PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, HUH JANE?

 

WELL, ONE WAY TO GET THORUGH THIS PAGE IS TO OBVIOULSY MAKE THE FONT SIZE LARGER, LIKE A REAL 2006 ‘DUH’ FROM A GREAT AUTOMOBILE COMPANY.

 

THE REASON MY YOUTUBE ACCOUNT IS STILL UP IS TOO COMPLEX TO GET INTO, BUT IT WILL ALL BE DOWN SHORTLY, FOREVER, AND GOOD RIDDANCE TO THE ENTIRE ENTERNET, AND THE ENTIRE SATANIC WORLD. I HAVE NO DESIRE TO PARTICIPATE IN YOUR EVIL WICKED WORLD.

 

 

Now for all my friends out here in the black file agencies:

 

You know dudes and duddesses, your logic is so far up your butts, it makes me exceedingly sad.

 

Instead of working with me, to combat this ES-IF thing, you chose while I was a child, to make my entire life hell. To destroy an innocent person that never did a thing to you. I only created Magnesonic AFTER already knowing that something was wickedly wiping me out. It was not until after the DOOGIE HOWSER CLUB decided to choke me to death with one of Moses’ Death Android Sky Poison Assaults that I fought back, and built that mother fucking machine. You are all a bunch of mother fucking worthless evil whack jobs. Now look at the mess this all is in. Do you really think this time line was meant to be like this, go ahead, look at the stinking evil shit all over the internet and the world. Look at the rotten bastards from fucking hell and their entertainment industry. Do you think that any of this would ever have gone this far, if you did not try and choke me to death in 1983? This is not where the splice was meant to be left off, and you all know it, you fucking worthless bastard liars.

 

 

WELL PEOPLE, YOU ALL LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT THEIR EVIL STOCK MARKET WOULD GO PAST 14,000, AND UP TO 50,000. WELL START WATCHING IT, AS HERE WE MOTHER FUCKING GO, JUST AS I TOLD YOU, GINA!