MORIANITY-5, CH. 60, KING NEBNOOSHOO AND GAWKY-1980

4:23 PM-EDST, 29 APRIL, 2013, MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON

I AM UNDER A MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE TODAY, LADIES AND FREAKING GENTLEMEN, AND IF I AM FOUND DEAD IN HERE SOON, I WAS MURDERED BY ALL OF THE WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES WHO ARE AND HAVE BEEN ALL ALONG, LISTED ON MY BLOGS, IN ONE CAPACITY OR ANOTHER, AND IN VARYING DEGREES OF CULPABILITY BY EACH OF THEM, DETERMINED ONLY BY A SUCCESSFUL THOROUGH INVESTIGATION BY ALL NECESSARY AUTHORITIES. THIS IS AN OFFICIAL LEGAL DYING UTTERANCE AND DECLARATION, MADE BY ME, MARK WAYNE MOHR, MATCHING MY RECORD LATER LISTED, AT THE UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE, AG OF FLORIDA, P.B., IF NECESSARY, FOR MY OWNED COPYRIGHTS SINCE BACK INTO BOYHOOD, EVEN THOUGH THOSE LISTED ONLY GO BACK TO 1978, WHEN I WAS FULLY GROWN; IT IS ENOUGH TO BEGIN THIS MAJOR WILD INVESTIGATION, WHEN MY DEAD BODY IS DISCOVERED IN THIS PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY APARTMENT, SHOULD THIS INDEED OCCUR. This legal document is now considered to be legally true and binding, to the best of my knowledge, all things ever told on this MORIANITY and all of my Mountainpen blogs, and is also officially now legally signed, the second it posts up legally, to both the sites of WORDPRESS, and BLOGGER.

OK ladies and gentlemen and kind viewers, here is the situation of what is going down around me personally today from the second I was awakened with a loud door slam just around the noon hour somewhere, on the legal date as shown and listed above, at the heading of this blog. I want to thank my audience for putting up with me; seeing me at my best, and my worst; and all the gray areas in-between.

First off, I called Mikey as he was supposed to call me, and did not, and he told me things are bad and he will get back to me later on. They are bad, but there is a little more happening here, actually; it is another Avalon BonJovi deal going down, and as always; I am totally unable to prove it, as well as absolutely powerless to stop and prevent any of it. So what else is new, same old same old, (WEIN-SOSO)? I know that he is just going to disappear down to Miami forever, and I will never hear from him again, as something is going on and he is not telling me straight, and I’ve been mother fucking lied to enough all of my life, to recognize a fucking cunt lapping con job when I’m getting one, YO!

Now I will be where the OTAMM MILI-2-FORCE always eventually mother fucking gets me, sooner or later, as it is every mother fucking cock sucking time, all my life without fail or exception; TOTALLY ISOLATED, where I can be picked apart by BRIGGBASE WOMOTAMM vultures, and human sub bottom feeding vampires. Someday, this pile of pure fucking trash ass slimy scum, will indeed burn in a fiery hell forever, in unfathomable fucking cunt agony; for this nightmare hell that they’ve enjoyed putting me through, just to keep the stock puke sucking market endlessly going up, and their dirt bag precious fucked up economy going strong. Sacrifice one for the good of the many, huh Spock and Kirk and Humpback mother fucking 1986 whales? Well this fucking great fish says, ‘BULLSHIT, and fucking kiss my ass’. It’s not fair, and any god or goddess that permits this inconceivable evil, to fucking cunt prevail; is no entity I have any desire to love or worship, drop dead, all mighty god, whoever you really are. That is what SHARKEY MARKEY has to say on this blog today, YO! Oh yeah, watch me swim, and hear me tell it.

Oh yes people, as good old Jason Forrest Summer, SAYS IT ON HIS WFMU RADIO WEB-SITE SO WELL, AND I WILL QUOTE HIM HERE EXACTLY, YO, “FUCK YOU”.

The day began slowly getting bad with one little thing compounding onto another one, and before a real long time, things were in the mother fucking soup, and boiling away white hot, at light fucking speed squared. Here is the hell.

I got up and quickly cleaned up and dressed, called Mikey, and as I said, I think he is planning on vanishing away without telling me, so you know what, FUCK HIS DAM ASS. My mom taught me shit as a kid, that I’ll remember to the mother fucking cunt lapping die that I physically die, as the person I currently am experiencing human life through; and that is that if someone, anyone, your own family, friends, a woman; if they don’t want you, the fucking hell with them. MOVE THE FUCKING SHIT ON, or as Billy Harner and Rob Hartley would tell me a lot back in Jersey, “Turn the fucking page, Mark”, then they’d puff some more on their weed down in the cellar. Have any good stories to share with me over tea and crumpets, other Patterson? In a few things, nobody topped my fucking mother, as she really knew her onions; all the way to Hollywood’s fake squeeze tears, and phony miss-kisses. Jeese Louise surfer Fonty, is this all about as totally fucking surreal as it gets sir, or should we secretly meet later at Genlows transdimensional house, and both of us can break into intertime and hang ten together, only it might end up hanging 10 million, along with Dick Wolf and Comcast Cable included in the mix. Yeah, the mix. Don’t get me fucking started here peeps. If I had the shit I had before this star family of fucking magic bullets took it all away from me commissioner Warren Washdock; I would be able to do a harmony track, ‘hero style’, PUN, PUN, PUN! WAYWINY LILLY FUCKING MUNSTER?

Well, yes, let old Blogger Mountainpen, share his horrible fucking day of assault with his viewing audience. I want you all to know that I really do appreciate your reading my blog, and someday, if I decide to CAP the entire universe to another place and delete it, as I already did in a parallel universe at least on one occasion; I will be sure the system knows who among the crowd, will be in the list to be ‘saved’, yeah, ain’t technology great? Makes you wonder, saving, deleting, capping, techno-pop creations, really? It is not what can we do, it is a lot easier to see things now as, what CAN’T we do, with all of this incredible stuff? Then PEE comes along with her tower that has a pad next to it with a bubble that swings over, and can turn anything inside of it into zeros and ones, put it through the internet and send it to any terminal that also has a station like the sending one. I saw this in a parallel universe, and for crissake, my daughter was only 8 years fucking old when she invented it over at the Harborfields Detention Center. I told all this, I blogged it all years and years ago when Morianity was new. Then just early this year, we hear about the 3-D laser-printer, and how it can actually create items now, such as those plastic guns. If I was dreaming all of this, I am sorry, but I am just about positive that I saw this talked about right here in this universe, not in some other one while dreaming as an exploratron. I will never ever forget hitting the buttons and watching the solar system turn blue and still, then pasting it far off into another galaxy on the opposite side of the universe. That was so real, I do not know whether or not that happened, or the laser gun printer thing happened, or what happened; over here where I am now typing this blog. I know if it did happen, not the capping of the solar system, but the laser-printer thing; we never ever heard another thing about it on the news or from any other media source that I am aware of any-ha. Well, that all being cock sucking told and said, let me tell you what the WOMO MILI-2-FORCE did to me today, and this day WOULD BE SUPER BOTBAR, if not for getting my fucking cunt eating ninety dollar refund check back from my wonderful Uncle Sam Huntington, or (the IRS) for those ignorant of the history of my wonderful and wild Huntington family, that managed for the most part to do a CALLIO, and stay out of the limelight, and go more deeper in the darker shadowy realms of secrecy, other than for becoming a four term Connecticut Governor, as my 7th grand-pappy did indeed die in office there back in 1790 or somewhere there about, if not then it was 1796. It was just shy of the start of the eighteenth century, in any event.

DOORS-DOORS-DOORS, how I despise living in this fucking cunt eating total shit hole, YO. Well, I had a talk with Resident Manager, Debbie Marotto when I took out my trash and left to go on a few small errands, gassing up the car, purchasing a few movies at the Good Will Store on VHS tape, and a few grocery items at Publix, then pick up my medication at the Walgreen Pharmacy, check my bank balance at TD, and stop in for a few items needed from the old Dollar Deals Store, where not everything is a dollar there any longer. Oh well, that’s progress, YO. Debbie will put me in a place where I can hear a pin drop, and I am thinking of taking her up on her offer. I will not be up as high and will not get to see my lovely lightning this nicely, but then, what has she done for me recently where I could really care less? I mean I understand what she said at the Eden Gate fence that day to me nearly 130 centuries ago, I understand why the High Priestess Wicca folks call this being what they do, “Triple-Goddess”, as this is what my daughter in human form is now, and has been since she went away and left me as Sarah on Tennessee Avenue, in the summer time of 1969, and on and on I could go; but nobody needs to hear it all, and I don’t need to make any unsuccessful crossovers on the Chappaquiddick Bridge, or be fired upon with any magic ass bullets, Mister Warren. Still, she said that she would spare the world since I loved her so much and was asking her to, that day so long ago, on the other side of that fence. Then she teased me by pretending to like my brother’s filthy gifts more than she liked mine, and began flirting with him, and I was just so dam jealous that I was not ABLE to stand it any longer one day, so I raised myself and a rock, and that was it for my brother’s head. It is all in that wonderful book, ISISCYLLA, and IWALU no matter what you do to me, and how much you freaking love to endlessly tease me, down through the endless ages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, future great football players and past great committee men on Crapitol Hill, as my ex business partner PP, said so well, “SHIT HAPPENS”, and taking that in conjunction with what the late Dawn-Marie King said to me shortly thereafter; ‘IT IS WHAT IT IS’, well; I suppose I need to go back into time, and scream out to the entire cosmos from 1969, “OK fine then, so I guess THAT’S THE WAY IT GOES, ZIGGY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is nothing that can be done about my fucking evil neighbors, Debbie said; other than for me to move and get a note from my doctor, as I am sure he would supply me with. It is just so fucking cunt unfair that I have to be the one to move and be inconvenienced and pay money, and sweat my balls fucking off, and when I did nothing wrong to deserve any of this filthy fucking dog shit. LIFE TOTALLY MOTHER FUCKING BLOWS & SUCKS YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, I had my talk with her, and then went to my car, and saw a major barrage of nasty ass chemtrails all over the fucking skies of Fort Pierce, especially to the west of the town’s air-space, over I-95 and even further west of that, towards Lake OKAY-2-CHOKE-ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did anybody say June 4, 1983, Orwell, or Doogie H? Jesus fucking Christ in Lab-Teck HELL!

THE MILITUFORCE was out in droves, not only chemtrailing the entire western area from me, but loud aerial assaults were also buzzing all around, and when I came back home to park and get my shit into a shopping cart so I could get it up an elevator, and then into my fucking prick chewing apartment; that harassing huge military evil demonic vessel that loves to ORBIT around in endless noisy circles, was also right there to greet me, AGAIN, as it was there a short while back, over at that same shopping area that I had just left today, after buying some grocery items, and a few VHS tape movies. But after I had the initial items, and before I tracked back towards home and stopped at Dollar Deals and the Walgreen’s, for my script-meds refill; a real huge slob on a fucking dirt bag motor cycle piece of garbage, cut me off, and I already knew he was going to illegally get to the left of me, and turn right and ahead of me; while waiting to pull out of the mini-mall with the Publix and the other numerous stores all there, at the Virginia Avenue intersection. I could tell, as I have learned to read shit; and then when all this air shit is also persecuting, that was my convincer, and I knew before it happened that indeed, this was what would go down, and sure enough, it did; and if I had not been careful and aware; he could have caused me a real disaster today, FORT PIERCE POLICE FREAKING DEPARTMENT, and Attorney General Pam Bondi. If it was just the air, or just the biker, then you could rationally say, well maybe I am a bit overly paranoid, but folks, cut me a fucking cunt lapping little break here, OK. It was all of this shit that all kept happening, so don’t anyone go fucking telling me that I have some wild ass fucking sick imagination, and that I need psychotherapy, or counseling, and psych medications; and all that hocus pocus nonsense fucking jazz, YO! Gear shift, no grind, shift-shift, page eleven of fucking cunt lapping eleven just nailed me, so I’ll need to cunt-phlegm-rape, or (COMPENSATE) TO PUT THIS A BIT TOMMY ROE POLITER, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here we go, new kids!
555555555555555555, PLUS 5555555555, TIMES 555555, IS EQUAL TO WHO FUCKING ASS GIVES THIRTEEN SHITS, OR A WASHDOCK, FOR THAT MATTER??????????????????????

555555555555555555555555555555555

LET ME RUN OUT THIS GOD DAM CLOCK ON THIS GOD DAM PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, WITH JANE WHORE FONDA!!!!!!!
A stinking rotten freaking 20 years is 5 minutes to me, ya’ rotten lousy dirty blee blah blum and a lot more, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes sir, there was one nice big puss plus out of this day of otherwise total ass shit, and that was coming in with my shit in a cart, checking my mail slot, and getting my income tax refund check, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Screw you enemy OTAMM, (Organized Trash Against Mark Mohr). Despite all this hell, and fucking dog shit, YO; I managed to make 3 units on my systems-roulette before I began to blog, and yesterday on a really fucking SUPER-ASS-BOTBAR-DAY, I managed to get a nice quick four and a half units, TEE HEE HEE, LILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will be asking GAGA KITTY CAT, why this pummeling siege was done to me today, but I already do know one answer no matter what else the cat may or may not reveal to me, YO YO YO YO!!! I know that WHEN I AM DOWN AND OUT, like in both times with MIKEY and calling him, yesterday and again today; THEY PICK ON ME, WHEN I AM THE MOST FRAGILE. This is a typical dirt bag military strategy, and is why I am not shy about hating the mother fucking military. I do not see dirty fighting scum bags, as my personal heroes, no matter how lovely voice Scylla sings the song. True blue heroes don’t have to fight dirty, and the US military does fight dirty, sanctioning, waiting for weakness, blockades, bombing little nations like Vietnam back into the stone age, to quote a L&O episode, hay; I cannot have a lot of respect or admiration for shit like that; and so no fucking wonder why so many people all around this globe all hate America!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, I love fucking America, but this is not America anymore, and I know for sure that it has not been, at least since the world turned upside fucking cunt down for me, back on the fifteenth day in August, of 1986; and I’ll go on saying it over and over and over, so yes, new kids in town; here we go, drum beats and all, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I still think there is hope in the future, and for the world and even for America, but as of the date on this blog, well, inward snort, exhaled grossed out throat sound, and puey, I mean, hay, you want it straight, and up front down and dirty, or does anyone out here want me to flower shit all up, and start lying to my nice viewers, WOW, witch will it be? AHA-AHA-AHA nothing, so move out of the way Mike McNulty, YO!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC, you know what to do, so go do it, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE////////////////EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, AND STOP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is Brenda Moore when we all don’t need her? Hopefully many miles away, with all of the bartenders, the lifeguards, the Crooked Mayors; and lotsanlots of other quintessential horseshit, huh Doctor Unhappy Garrigan of 1970????????????????????????? BYE-BYE, and don’t die on me, 2008 Copyright Office lady, as I am only interested in ‘hyperspace music’, but they gave me the message all right, even way fucking back then, sweetie. I swear you could see it in the eyes of the news anchor peeps, reporting the dam ass news. Cut me one, but please no stinkers, Margie Leo!

**CHAPTER LX (00060) M-5, SUPER BOTBAR!**

BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.

I NEED YOUR HELP GODDESS DIANA. I AM UNDER A DEATH SIEGE, FROM MY WOMO ENEMY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME, LOVELY BBDZA.

55555555555555555555555555

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 60.
WOW, IT IS DOUBTFUL THAT YOU DID, WITH ALL OF MY DAM ROTTEN PROFANITY. SO SORRY. OH WELL, MAYBE TOMORROW WILL BE BETTER, GARY-7 AND OTHERS. THEN AGAIN, MAYBE YOU WON’T STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TAKEN ME TO THE WEEDS! IN FACT, I THINK I WOULD PLACE BOOK AND BETS ON THIS ONE!

**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU 100% machine created, tkpop.

YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983

NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC

TRACK ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.

“YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER”

VERSE ONE

I’m so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new

Let me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few

Oh my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew

We’re down and out, and we will even go to work for you

You seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two

I am so weak and faint and do not wanna’ be so blue

While we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe

Oh please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you

We’ll help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew

But greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

And I’m not giving any freaking fish away

VERSE TWO

So when you add your salty tears directly in the sea

And when you’re done your song of woe, that you have sung to me

Just take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty

And right into the undertow, and stop annoying me

And talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish

You loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch

I have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled

So either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed

Guys like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled

People say I’m cold and cruel, on every single day

But I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay

So I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE THREE

They say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand

And mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand

Storms blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died

The sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried

And on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned

Ignoring waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound

Just another bucket and, then he’ll have caught his fill

A lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill

The king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again

Yet locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

So yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay

And I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE FOUR

You’ll be crossing over, later wishing you’d been nicer

You’ll be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer

You’ll be crossing over, hearing all the trash they’re talking

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll have to keep on walking

You’ll be crossing over, watching all the others eating

Feasts with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating

Forever seeing many fish, but never on your plate

You had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll be a lonesome rover

Forever doomed to hear the words you always used to say

That you’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

Oh yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay

So you’re not giving any of your fish away

END OF SONG.

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983

NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:

Only the opening title words are real.

Jupiter, Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU NOW ARE READING MORIANITY PART 5,
AND I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00060. WHAAAA.

55555555
HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 29 April.

HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, NJ-USA
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EGG HARBOR CITY’S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING’S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey. Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied. I am quite sure that you know what I mean. PLEASE TRY A LITTLE HARDER.

***MORIANITY PART FIVE***

A child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube site. This will not be removed from my account. BUT I DO see why I took that threat over at the WEST FORT PIERCE LIBRARY, two weeks ago, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/

THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART FIVE:

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**theansweristheqyuestion—at BLOGGER**

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My blogs
Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
Morianity Foundation
The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version
To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL
About me
Gender
Male
Industry
Non-Profit
Occupation
paranormal researcher
Location
Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction
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.
Interests
I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies
all old movies
Favorite Music
most old music
Favorite Books
The Winds Of War, Gone With The Wind, Time Travelers From Our Future
You forgot your mom’s birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?
An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:
At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.
I also am left to ponder, how Landon and I seem to know about the ‘sleep contact elves’, while the rest of humanity just lets this all go over their head.

THIS IS MORIANITY, PART FIVE. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY.
CHAPTER 00058, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I talk a lot about my copyrighted music, so here it is, folks.

Public Catalog
Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

Resort results by:

#
Name (NALL) <
Full Title
Copyright Number
Date
[ 1 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
For the record.
PAu000662409
1984
[ 2 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
I'm Criana.
PAu000724397
1985
[ 3 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.
PAu003351785
2007
[ 4 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Last number repeat–100 progression roulette system.
TXu000514390
1992
[ 5 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Lost love.
PAu000344219
1981
[ 6 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo collection, set 4.
PAu000546149
1983
[ 7 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo collection : set III.
PAu000442785
1982
[ 8 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo tunes.
PAu000325091
1981
[ 9 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr tunes.
PAu000411864
1982
[ 10 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Queen of blue.
PAu000825471
1986
[ 11 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Real good girl.
PAu000881543
1986
[ 12 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.
PAu002506106
2000
[ 13 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Saga of song writer Mark Mud.
PAu000501582
1983
[ 14 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah.
PAu002153196
1996
[ 15 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah.
SRu000332786
1996
[ 16 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah Callio of ACNJ.
SRu000362114
1997
[ 17 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Uncle.
PAu000540585
1983
[ 18 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
What's wrong?
PAu000724407
1984
[ 19 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
You call this music?
PAu000998574
1987
[ 20 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.
PAu001148157
1988
[ 21 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.
PAu001189027
1989
[ 22 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204017
1980
[ 23 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204015
1980
[ 24 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morianity music pre-book.
PAu002336935
1998
[ 25 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morianity tunes of 1998.
PAu002282717
1998

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Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records
Select Format:
All on Page
Selected On Page
Selected all Pages
Enter your email address:

Search for:
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Item type:

Help Search History Titles Start Over

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

Public Catalog
Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

Resort results by:

#
Name (NALL) <
Full Title
Copyright Number
Date
[ 26 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204016
1980
[ 27 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Same title.
PAu003037983
2005
[ 28 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Thanx to the shadows.
PAu002237985
1997

Resort results by:

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records
Select Format:
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Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO? WWYWINY MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

December 12, 2006
More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.
This is merely a harmony track. I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.
At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey.  Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. 
Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently.  He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life."  The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title.  He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day.  More importantly, he is insane.  Completely, violently insane. 
Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.  His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet.   And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.  Covertly, of course.   Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.  (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.) 
Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:
Interdimensional Technology (MP3)    Android & Angel (MP3)    12th Planet (MP3)
If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U?
Signed, da' Mountainpen.

Let us go back to twelve days ago, to a week from last Tuesday. I went, on advice from the normal library that I go to, to a sister branch on the west side of North Fort Pierce, Florida, just a few blocks from where I used to live before coming to reside here at this PHA Building. Again, I was there with the intent of trying to get my song, “You'll Be Crossing Over” to be uploaded to my Youtube account, at http://youtube/paulaking2011/ and was not treated very well there, and it was as though they already had it all planned out to be that way with me when I came in. They could not be sure when I was coming, but I did phone ahead to talk to that same dirt bag, Rick, who screwed me at the other library down on Melody Lane when he was going to help me with my blogs back when I was having all that trouble with the Tweeting rockin' robins in the summer time in 2010, causing the stock market to soar as a result, from around 8400 points up to just under ten thousand points within only a few months, via the parallel-event between hurting me and the Dow Jones always going up as a result. Again, as with that other bad time in my life in August of 2010, after this time, the DJIA has soared up for two solid weeks after having its first down week in ages after this ridiculous absurd ludicrous based on nothing rally, began growing so powerfully this year in 2013. If this in all honesty is really all up in my sick imagination for 27 years, then I really do have one hell of a fantastic imagination, so much so, that there is no way that peeps who indeed know I exist, and I think my copyright record speaks for itself that this is quite real and true and not imagined, then these lovely folks would have long ago made me an offer to write for one of their studios and make them a marvelous mint of cash, with my WILD IMAGINATION. I think we all up here on this blog, KNOW EXACTLY WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON, with this, with all of my life's woes, with parallel event and the stock market and my persecution done intentionally, with my family, with my daughter, with Hyper-Space and other matching initials; and most especially, with music. I find it very difficult to believe, that any 'for-real' peeps up here; do not see and believe, that this entire story is all real and true and honest, and pitiful; and the best words to be added here, would be demonically monstrous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will not insult my audience, of which I know is between ten and forty nice folks. You all know this is all the truth, after-all, just what would I possibly have to gain with a story this totally outlandish and inconceivably absurd, be it a work of either fiction or lack of mental health. I am not saying that I am the most healthy person alive, physically, mentally, emotionally, and on I could go, but I sure try hard, and I am the product of one hell of an unfathomable amount of covert and totally illegal abuse, from a very powerful group of absolutely horrendous wicked rotten people, who most assuredly, to use old lingo terms, will endlessly burn in a horrible hell someday, for doing all this unspeakable detestable and despicable stuff to me, an innocent pathetic harmless victim of their criminal mischief that rivals even what Hitler ever did a long time ago in Germany. This is just honest truthful words, and if they bite or hurt, then whoever may be reading them and in pain, is in for 'a ticket south', to quote my old pal, banged up blue nungen car and all from the middle eighties, Ugie Horowitz AKA and under Hollywood stage name, Michael Landon.

Well people, let me keep this moving right along. None of us are dumb, and I have been told by somebody that I am just looking for my 15 minutes like everybody else. This is a filthy dirty rotten lie, good folks. I am looking for a lot more than 15 minutes. I am looking to start up a great foundation that would aid many people just like me with terrible problems, people being persecuted by all sorts of evil mean pursuers of them, ex lovers, family, revenge seekers, even financially distressed individuals, even those in trouble with Internal Revenue, any kind of persecution. Now this foundation would always operate within the boundaries of the legal system, and would even try to assist those in trouble, contributing one dollar for every dollar they pay, things like that. This is my dream, and has been since 2006 when I started all of this on-line junk, at the suggestion of the two peeps in my life then who though that it may solve some of my horrible problems, Christopher Bennett, and Edward Himacane Lynch. But there have been a couple of very mean and jealous folks, who have accused me of using, or trying to use, my situation since 1980-1989, whatever that situation really is in reality in this universe, with my mystery-caller-goddess of all and or any BABYLON locations, and in or out of any regular time STM illusions, in all of this. This was always about as far from my mind as anyone can imagine, and when I began my blogging and Morianity early in 2006, I did not even have a clue about half the stuff that I have now come to learn as the next few years ticked along. I do not use people, I try and find a mutually acceptable cooperation that is anything but one sided, and for any reason if this is not agreed to, then I am off to the next project, and so on.

This applied to CHEMTRAILS, and anyone with a brain, and with ears; understands. Then it was revealed to me, just like the Disney thing; a short while after the CT video was posted up, that if something is done; it sort of proves that all of this goes beyond the realm of miracles and pope canonizations and any of it. I speak of comparing two tunes and then using a little techno-pop machinery of the eighties in conjunction with some tapes that for reasons none other than pure providence, happened to make it down with me to Florida, the night that I packed a very few things, and ran away from where I was being SS Kidnapped, by distant cousins, and this is not me talking, this is a close cousin to a top recording artist, the great BonJovi for gods sake. He is the one who saw all this, brought it to my attention, and then, for wild reasons, after a long time operating a sound studio in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, one day shortly after this mess was all going down live, poof, THE END, no more Avalon BonJovi studio to go to and do my projects. Oh, and this is all just by pure random coincidences. Well, Jack McCoy, Abbey Carmichael and the entire Law & Order gang would not believe that, and guess what my friends out here, NEITHER DO I, GOOD FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll tell you another thing I don't believe. It is almost as if ISIS is taunting me, but I cannot be sure, I have to do an FBI here and keep this idea-concept on the 'back-burner' for right now due to insufficient intelligence data, after-all, I have been cut off from all contact, everyone has totally abandoned me and hates me, and for nothing that I have legitimately done to any of them. To say it biblically, this entire thing is just about as SATANIC AND DEMONIC AS IT GETS, good peeps. But what do I mean by taunting. Well, if I had watched and taped that silly show that MC suddenly just out of nowhere decided to do, I would have had a million words to play with. I am only interested in what I have of her from the days when she was playing lab-teck, this is not a game, and just because she wants to be sixteen forever, I DON'T. None of this was a game, and it was all done to try and break out of whatever it is that has been going on all around me since 1980 give or take, and it was her all along, and a moron can see it. If I were just trying to make a thousand unknown tunes of great known artists, I would be taping every dam show on television for voice retrievals. I live my own life, and it is very private and personal to me. This isn't some stupid game, it is real, it is agonizing, and I just want OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE, and can any of you out here really blame me for gods sake? Out of a few recent things said to me by peeps that I absolutely cannot mention any names; only one had some powerful merit, and again, proves the powerful truths about being so close in the forest, as not to see the trees, an old and very wise-person's expression, at least IMHO, L-4. They said if dream-music is transdimensional, then how can you say the tune of “You'll Be Crossing Over” is not from a parallel universe, when the harmony is done when a teenaged girl is asleep in a dream, playing lab-technician, in '84? WOW, this person blew me away, and shows that I have some real thinking peeps out here, and I will protect their privacy and not divulge any more about them, but will further elaborate on what this person has suggested. You are RIGHT, FELLA!!!!!! I will no longer click on the song, and will not be posting the full tune up. I will not be responsible for the possible apocalyptic results all over the world, should too many people hit the post or it even mini viral'd as this could indeed be a catastrophic deal. It has to do with electronic circuitry and the inherent forces behind what separates all universes from each other in a frequency vibration. You do not need to know more than that, good peeps. So please, whoever has made my life so horrible since a year ago when this tune started all of this, I won't ever post the final mixed CD, and I'll even be taking down all my Youtube stuff, so please, leave me alone and cut me a break,, I don't mean any harm to any of you, BEAM ME FUCKING UP SCOTTIE, YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My coming to learn that this stuff causes major disturbances in a STM electromagnetic field of cosmic proportions, began around 1974. The convincer knock out punch was 1980 and my demo tunes and Mount Saint Helen's erupting. Then I still played around with this for about six more years, and the rest is history, perhaps it';s even why they persecute me and have since 1986, the timeline fits, and many believe that the planet is indeed being watched over and even protected by something, someone, who knows, the gods, ISIS, whatever. But my question remains, then why do all of this to me, ISIS? Oh well, enough for tonight,m I just wanted to get this door opened up and have us begin to lightly explore the foyer area beyond it. We have now sufficiently done so, or at least, IMHO we have, and Rockford says it all, with or without his great files, “We can always get back to this”!

READ ON, SHAKESPEARE MACBETH. Hyperspace effects my ass, Walter; I am not the fucking moron you all think that I am, ya' rotten no good EW pricks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TEE-HEE.

I HOPE THAT YOU ARE ENJOYING THE READING OF THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00060. Today however, most will not be 2 happy with my rotten behavior, sorry about that Chief of 86.

NUMEROUS ITEMS ARE CAPPED IN, FOR THOSE WHO MAY BE INTERESTED, AS WELL AS FOR ANY NEW VIEWERS.

THIS IS MORIANITY, PART FIVE. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY.
CHAPTER 00060, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Now the rest of the topic for this blog is about the invention of these early eighties personal computers, AKA PC's. First, this jerk fucking off nabe across the cunt eating hallway from me IS PART OF THIS BUILDING CONSPIRACY WITH THE COMPUTER DELL GUY, and is why I was unable to secure any help from him, other than to get a mind blowing course one night from him about the real WOMO (World-Owners) and that would be none other than MICROSOFT CORPORATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All others follow in close seconds or thirds, obediently wagging their tails behind them; and keeping their heads down, and their yes sir yelps endlessly strong, loud, and coming. Continue please, you are reading the section in Morianity for Millennium 3, Chapter #5.

Let us talk about these PC's, and how this all fits and connects with me, while bearing in mind the entire time, the little lesson in weaving and looms and our great great grandma's sowing habits, brought into the real next generation. First off, without even touching anything around this little quick next few sentences, let me just say the shit I feel compelled to say, and get it the fuck out of the way and over with, YO!

If I could wake up by some Irish Leprechaun Magic, (ILM) can be used after this point as a short abbreviation for this three word phrase; and be a total computer geek black hat cracker hacker, or on that level without doing anything illegal or immoral, with what I need in my personal life situation, don't be shy along with me world, as you know I would use this to my advantage, keeping it as legal and moral as is humanly possible, but when the road gets real tough here and there, with all the chips down underneath the surface of the gaming table, and the skies are all gray and bleak and black and dark; well, let us not get silly here, or try and fool ourselves. I would use this and I would make the MILITUFORCE really PAY for what has been done to me, and would still quite naturally, be being done to me at any so-called point of future STM. So the quintessential DUH is of course THEY are not going to make it real ass super easy for me to reach that computer savvy stage and point. It really again, as the great Toronto Bank of WOW says on their really cool TV ad spots, “It isn't rocket science”, and I'll gladly throw in here, “We do not need your services, Subaru Vonbrahn. I have tried to spell this dude's name 10 ways back from Sunday, and as usual, MSC is no help at all! Any celebrated last name spelled as it is sounded out, should be recognized with groups of words with one being the correct spelling. Yes, gear shift, no grind, these scum over there have been in and out all night, 1,2,3,4,5 in the morning, even now at nearly fucking half past, and Friday, I am telling Debbie that I will write a letter to whoever runs this building, as this is fucking bullshit, not 'cigarette butt bullcarp'. Yes it is amazing how very inexpensive items can serve as a spy stethoscope, placed on my door, and listened to through my headphones on my bed any time I wish. I am a very paranoid person, it is only a matter of time before I will know a lot more. The entire put together item cost me under 15 bucks, and is a great investment, as I need to know what goes on with ENEMIES. If folks would not harass and persecute me, I would never think of doing things like fucking this. I had to take a break, and go on, what David Roth used to call, late in the nineteen-eighties; a 'Crampana Shit Attack', only his main one that I'll always clearly remember, he also called the Dark Shitholes Attack, as he actually had the balls after being hit with a WOMO death beam at the Westmont, New Jersey High Speed-Line Train Station; to use the back yard woods, behind Roseann Delaney's home, in Haddonfield, New Jersey; to keep from browning out in his Bermuda shorts; TEE HEE HEE, Lilly M. Things like this do not happen with consistency and regularity to normal average healthy grown men, such as myself and David. So what else can the explanation be? I am surely not making up this story. Would I be proud to say I am always getting horrible fucking shit attacks, and not always properly making it to a facility, over the past 27 fucking cunt years? Give me a break, Margie Leo, 4 freaking crissake. Let us return now to the original topic of the personal computer and me, and our twining interaction. If I could do all the things I'd like to be able to do with them, my enemies would be in very serious trouble, until they came over covertly and stealthfully, and did a Marie Fahey on me, in the name of domestic enemy terror, and the Patriot Act; or some other total nonsense mother fucking garbage that if you added three dollars to, would get you a dozen shinny quarters; and that's all it would get you, YO!!!!!! If this was a fair world, I could sue the fucking FBI for breaking intentionally, all of my legally paid for and totally owned, electronic equipment, back early in this century, while I lived at the Mullica Mobile Manor, just east of fucking cock sucking Hammonton, Blu-Berryville, in New Green-Garden State Jersey, let me get off this blog beach for now, GOV, and return to the topic of PC's and me!!!!!!!!!!!! No, they don't show this dirty part of the FISA shit, on the great L&O TV show, but in real-life, they break your stuff, after all; what the fuck can you do about it, complain; and almost get locked up, by the fucking worthless Mullica Township Cops, back that day? Whaju say Dawn and Dad, SHEEEEEEEEEIT!

Now these fucking miserable jerk off nabes of mine, come into their unit after visiting with this asshole on my floor with the computer, who knocked on my door that day on 12/18/2012, when I had Dennis Chase over here from the local Publix, posting my 'YBCO' harmony track tune, to my Youtube account, at http://youtube/paulaking2011/ BRO!

I know they all are friends, and constantly visit with each other, and conspire to fuck with me, both with my not getting any computer help, remember the story the resident manager of my building told me about Tom being bored with nothing to do, only he tells me that he's too fucking busy to aid me with my PC? Oh yeah, right, sure, shore, most definitely makes total sense, and it does, and I am not being fucking facetious, as it makes complete 100% sense. It is a plot to keep me fucked, fucked, fucked, and FUCKED!!!!!!!! Those that won't see my story is all real and true, SIMPLY DO NOT WANT IT TO BE TRUE. AFTER ALL, IT MIGHT JUST TOUCH THEM, OR SOMEBODY WHO THEY LOVE, IF IT IS TRUE; and that is not within their mother fucking comfy cozy zones, but is totally within the zone of the GWPOS, or Giant Williamstown Police Officer Syndrome, that I have told over and over about an incident that happened in the middle fucking nineties. WHAAAAAAA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MMCN!

Folks, I went on a real roll for two fire alarms every day, along with the nabes back on a roll, simultaneously, and one time was definitely set off by them, as they were talking to the FD and saying, as I told all ready on a prior blog, This is bull crap, it is just smoldering cigarette butts. I merely spelled all of the words correctly on this dam blog, BRAH!

The first two thirds of the year of 2008, in its own way was bigger than the same time period in 1986, 22 years earlier. Studying my blogs or archiving them at the website at BLOGGER, using this address: http://drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ or http://theansweristheqyuestion.blogspot.com/
will reveal powerful beyond wild and unfathomable shit. You can see how the entire MENTALIST show was created from this blog, you can see Jason Forrest's comment, accidentally posted in haste I suppose, on my blog by him, saying how this blog, meaning MY BLOG, is where he made a lot of money in Cali, to quote him exactly, and so much more. The real power is two things this time, unlike in 1986. first, all of the 1986 records are conveniently lost now, thanks to a wonderful star family, and second, this is more of a recent group of events. All of my original life journal on cassette tape is gone forever, unlike my blogs posted at BLOGGER, as well as other websites for bloggers, during these incredible times of cosmic proportions. Also, unlike the first time, I know so much more than I did back then, more things, more players in the cosmic colorful weaving system, and more aware living witnesses to force in court if ever taken that far, that will either tell some powerful truths under fucking ass oath, or commit perjury to keep many gargantuan secrets. Just yesterday, as it is now 5:55 AM-EDST, a very beautiful two minute period each and every 24 hour cycle or 'day', on this April 25, 2013; I was playing around with the WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE. For no reason about two months or so ago, give or take a month, one day, I went to paste in my blogs typed from my word office 3.1 system, and unlike before, both WordPress and Blogger sites, no longer pasted it in, as it appeared on the office document, on my PC. However, the BLOGGER software, compensates somehow, and places the format back into the way I had it on my own PC Office System Program, or 3.1 Open Office. I keep hoping for WORDPRESS to install the similar software, but I have come to see their game. I think if I am willing to pony up a nominal 25 dollar fee each year, not bad at all; they will give me a real domain, so I plan to do this; as long as I can post up my songs, my blogs, my photographs, and stuff the way I do at the Blogger site, and have it all work; links, all of it. If this was $25 per month, I could not afford it, but 2 dollars and change, per month is reasonable enough for me to say yes, and agree to this 'dot me' thing. Hay, like the fucking lady at 1101 Robin Hill Apartments, when I was next door to her, in late 1983, and into 1984; at 1102 Apartment number; said to me through the door that afternoon early in 1984, “It's ME”, and later on, I had a powerful dream where she forced me onto the roof of the building, and gave me excruciating pain by some magical power, that blows me away every time to this day, that I so much as remember that 'dream' for even a tiny little fucking second. In the dream she again reiterated only slightly varying her words spoken through my door in waking life or in this universe; I AM A 'ME', and this wild shit was all written down in my 'so-called' fictional 1994 book, copyrighted in WASH-DOC-600-13, called, “The Permission Barrier”. In waking life she said something equally awesome and outlandish to me through my dam door. She said I need to know something, and that if I do not open the door, and let her come in and tell me; I will regret it for the rest of my life. Is anyone reading this, seeing this word yet, 'WOW'?

A very beautiful full moon is shinning out there above me, 99% full and still waxing, becoming full at around noon today. I LOVE YOU BEAUTIFUL LUNA, MY SPECIAL BABY BLOND, AND MY WONDERFUL AND AWSOME LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA ARTEEMIS, AND I'LL NEVER EVER LET YOU GO, NOT FOREVER AND FOREVER AND FOREVER, MY ENDLESS LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 657 and 123, but does that equal 1984 or 1983, or even the mighty all seeing Mister fiction book author Orwell???????????????? Where does 'megawater' fit into this, and for that matter the great 'SUNRAM'? This is what all came flooding back to me, in early 1996, under intense psycho-therapy hypnotism; at the Wolf Clinic, on Main Street, in Moorestown, NJ, right next to REMOMAX. Wow, Mike Sotas. Bad news, you're no competition with Super-Girl Keisha. So bring those fire engines roaring, OTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE, WEEEEEEEEEEE. Still with all of this said, the entire interaction of all of the twine all over the world, creates the IF (Interaction Force), and within that force, is the very gun powder that is needed to work the magic of what I have spoken rarely about over nearly seven and a half years of my blogging now, “REALITY-THREE”. We will get real deep into Reality-3, very very soon.

Diana, I saw your wonderful moon on the Jupiter Cam, all orange and lovely and creamy-dreamy, my endless love. I am your little boy forever and ever, baby-blond; and will be with you very soon, lovely one. IWALU, BB (baby-blond)!!!!!!!!!!!!

That was what it was before the WORST MOTHER FUCKING DAY OF 2013 CAME IN, FRIDAY, it is now Saturday Morning at 25 minutes past mother fucking midnight, electrical number three cubed, (27) April, 2013. Yesterday was a major super fucking BOTBAR DAY. Folks, I have a hell of a monster fucking story to impart to you all today, and if you're not in the mood for a really major talk with the Mountainpen here, move it over to the ''NEXT-BLOG'', I strongly urge you, but staying here will result in some pillow talking from DAD, and many other things. They were warned, and they did not care or they called my fucking bluff, or 'whatever', Congressman, but that old saying of Dawn-Marie King is quite fitting here good peeps, “It is what it is”, and again, it appears to be quite magically buried or cosmically perhaps, as this contains the built in Goddess of Babylon, both and either one of them, now or back then; my lovely wonderful and beautiful, who else; ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK people, here is what happened, and no one will believe it, and I am typing it for my own record, not so that anyone anywhere will see it and believe it. Shit all fucking mighty, if I were you and you were me; I know I wouldn't believe it, so maybe that tells you to hit that NB button now. This will get deeper than your wildest fucking fantasies, sweet adorable Alice Vera Mel, not greedy Fisher MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is nine minutes shy of one, and I will be calling 911 if this all day long party, across the hall, does not stop. IT HAS BEEN DOORS, DOORS, DOORS, SLAMMING ALL MOTHER FUCKING DAY LONG. I do not have to take this after one in the mother fucking cunt lapping dick chewing MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!! Actually, it was pretty quiet until 3 in the afternoon, then one by one, these evil vile uncouth monster slobs, begin filing in; and by quarter past four late yesterday afternoon, it was slam slam bang, and still is, at one in the cunt eating morning. I have a powerful feeling, the FUCKING CUNT POLICE WILL BE HERE, BEFORE THE SUN RISES. I WILL NOT BE ABUSED THIS WAY, AND JUST SIT FUCKING HERE AND EAT THIS FUCKING SHIT, FROM THESE FUCKING TWISTED DISEASED MONSTERS, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They know the other neighbor is away, my pal Stanley, or they would not make this much cock licking fucking noise all day and night; but if only I AM HERE, 1988 or no fucking 1988; PROPHET OF FUCKING CUNT MCDONALD'S NOTHING; THEN I'LL GET ROYALLY AND TOTALLY FUCKING ASS SCREWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But if this day was just THIS HORRIBLE MONSTER OVER ACROSS THE FUCKING HELL-HALL, WITH HIS DIRT BAG EVIL SCUM BAG PEEPS; I could take it, but unfuckingfortunately for me; this is only a part of my fucking hell on this beyond MONSTER ASS FUCKING DAY FROM HELL CUBED CUBED CUBED AND CUBED, AND BEYOND ANY NORMAL ASS FUCKING CUNT LAPPING B—O—T—B—A—R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Far beyond seeing constant fucking CLOCK-ONES, and other constant ONES-ATTACKS from Miss Dirtbag Jane Sleazeweedsdisease BITCH, from 20 years ago, in fucking cunt eating '93; I have dropped shit, injured myself, been attacked in all possible ways including one of the worst health death ray beam assaults ever, where I was on the toilet for hours; and I was one fucked up shit head duck. I will tell you all something right now before even getting really into the heart and the meat of yesterday's beyond SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY: That fucking rotten 1983 song has caused me a mountain top and an ocean basin of trouble, that none of you out here have a clue about; as I know since no one wants to go and listen to it, and I know because the count never changes on my YT account, when I deduct my views and my link up posts. Well, I will not say none, but maybe, and I mean MAYBE, it has been hit 6-10 times, and I said and will reiterate again, MAYBE!!!!!!!!!!!! As I speak, my twelfth fucking MORTY MORTINO DEATH ANDROID attack is striking me on my mother fucking cunt eating right side, the eleventh one was when I was shortly into starting this blog, and I have no time to waste on that dirt bag prick, reporting every visitation from this shit ass buttwipe clown, YO YO YO YO!!! Here is the real fucking shit, and it happened when I crashed out for the night around just past 2 AM on Friday fucking ass morning, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WAS TAKEN BACK TO PROVINCE ''WEIRD''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was done totally against my will, as it was in late June of fucking pussy huffing two thousand and dick eating eight. For those that may not have a clue, this is a condition-interaction of the Astral-Plane, so far away from the normal interactions of Province-Olympia, that no words would be usable here, it would be the distance of about a quintillion orbits around the hypersphere universe of ours while we're awake on this so-called, “Physical-Plane”. Diana was with me, and the LAMBRIGG CULT forced an unconditional surrender of myself and my air-ship, the Ricktown-1, and we went through a gigantic pipe like one of those municipal water pipes, only about 50 miles in diameter, otherwise, appearing just like one of them here in the fucking ass waking world, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Diana was allowed to remain with me for a while, then she was mysteriously made to vanish away, and they tortured me beyond anything imaginable. The agony was like 1000 years of someone stabbing your body all over, and you cannot bleed out and die, or you do, and then you just instantly experience some bizarre tissue and blood regeneration. This then happens over and over, and the agony gets worse as the interaction of seeming-time passes in the ongoing torment and torture. Now I know that this is real, what I am now going to tell you, and nothing similar to this has happened to fucking cunt me, since Christmas time, in the fucking year of 2007, at my place of employment, the Cifaloglio Garage, near Folsom, New Jersey, USAESMWG!!!

I died of a fucking stroke in 'my sleep' last night, it happened, and I totally fucking know that this happened. The agony on the Astral-Plane was somehow able to connect into my body here in waking ordinary consciousness, to a sufficient level, so as to fucking kill me, and it was a stroke, and it was fucking horrible. Now comes the wilder part, my good folks. I woke up and somehow crawled to the hallway, and yelled for help, and was taken to the hospital; where I was pronounced fucking DEAD there. Then I was asleep again; and this cycle went on and on for what seemed as long as the fucking torture that caused it to happen in the first fucking place. When I finally came out of this experience, I jumped out of bed, tripped and fell, yelled, and ran for a light, any fucking light, and I will not be able to sleep without a bright light on for a very fucking cunt lapping long while, just like after my fatal heart attack and other horrible shit from my early blogging days of super SIEGE AND PUMMELING ATTACK FROM THIS LAMBRIGGER CULT OF HELL ITSELF, NOTICE PLEASE, THAT I DID NOT SAY FROM HELL. I said OF HELL, and fuck you MICROSOFT, NOT ODF, screw your dam hack, I am not in the mother fucking ass mood for that shit right about now, YO!

You do not need to know everything, but I will tell you all one thing, DOROTHY GLINDASISTERTRAIL: NO I DO NOT SURRENDER; NOT AFTER THIS SIEGE AND DEATH-HELL ASSAULT, YOU MOTHER FUCKING PIECES OF DIRTY ASS ROTTEN FUCKING MONKEY CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, the real joke is that you don't, and cannot ever, know half of what is going on, and if I told, even though I am a certified fucking fruitcake; it would be Chappaquiddick Bridge for me, and then McGuire would light up my remains and I'd fucking glow for a day and a fucking ass half, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One thing this OZ-man can tell you, is that Bluebook Warren and the rest of the WASH-DOCK gang from 13-600-ville, are all clueless to a lot of shit that is right under their nose. They all think they're all that up there in the capitol, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, Dawn and DAD willya gimme a fucking bweak there Mister cunt eating Elmer Fwudddddd?????????????? TANKS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We are NOT playing with TIME TRAVELERS, just travelers, and folks, you are saying to yourself right about now, no doubt, what the fuck do you mean, and my response is that if you need to say that after all this fucking ass Morianity; I cannot aid you in just more mere fucking lingo made up of mere combinations of alphabet letters. It won't work. This is what the gods know about that tongue shit, they're not fucking talking about some real cool make out sessions, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I have been fatally car crashed, struck dead by Diana, poisoned with non-Mace-cans, shot, stabbed, crushed by a freight train, chocked and strangled, and not crashed in a car to my death once, but on several occasions; and something WON'T FUCKING LET ME DIE, yet if you came over and shot me; to your frame of reference, I would be dead and forever gone, and so 'THAT', is the real fucking PROVINCE WEIRD ROCKDROID EQUATION, sir Rotten Berry, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No aha-aha-aha tonight, Mike fucking cunt McNulty, old 1971 pal; just not in the fucking ass mood. So sorry Mister 1941 Ambassador of fucking cunt lapping JAPAN, huh lovely daughter PEE K——-omicassi????????????????? My life dwarfs the fucking SECOND WORLD WAR, 10 million times; or should I just keep my cuzz happy and say five meeeyun? Cut me 1, Marge Leo!

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For more, just scroll, no need to fucking click on the margin, good people, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

10:47 PM-EDST, 25 APRIL, 2013, THURSDAY NIGHT:

I TOLD YOU GINA, THEY PICK THE FUCK ON ME, OVER AND OVER, AND EVEN THOUGH THE DOW BEGAN TO GO DOWN FOR A WHILE, THIS RECENT 10-15 DAYS OF SHIT ON ME, EVERY DAY, WITH POUNDING, AND PUMMELING, AND PERSECUTION BY FILTHY FUCKING EVIL NEIGHBORS; AND LOTS OF OTHER FUCKING SHIT; AND THE DOW JONES GOES UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, DAY AFTER DAY, AFTER DAY, AFTER DAY. A FUCKING TWISTED MORON LITTLE SNOTTY CHILD, CAN SEE MY WORDS ARE ALL FUCKING TRUE. WHERE IS THE WONDERFUL ATTORNEY GENERAL WHEN I NEED HER, OH GREAT PRESIDENT-O???????????? THIS IS WHY PEEPS REACH THAT MAGIC BOILING POINT, I NEVER WILL, BUT THIS IS WHY THESE INCIDENTS WILL NOT STOP HAPPENING, AS IT JUST GETS ENDLESSLY MOTHER FUCKING WHITE WASHED, AND COVERED UP, BY POWERFUL 'PENTAGON FUCKING ALIENS', OR 'WHATEVER' BODY SNATCHING EXPLORATRONIC SHIT IS REALLY GOING FUCKING ON, AND DON'T LET CLARINET PLAYER, PLAYER BILL, BULLSHIT US. HE KNOWS THE ENTIRE FUCKING MESS, AND HAS TO SHUT UP ON PAIN OF DEATH; HIS AND THE ENTIRE FAM. FOLKS, QUIT BEING SO FUCKING naïve AND STUPID, AND 'MICROSOFT I-N-SIS-TS ON SPELLING' naïve IN SMALLS, I AM NOT DOING THIS, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I DID THE OTHER CUTE ASS LITTLE THING AFTERWARD, WHAAAAAA, MMCN!

I am one angry mother fucker about a lifetime of mother fucking endless cock sucking MAJOR PERSECUTION, good freaking folks out here, and all my loyal MORIANS, YO YO!! So quit bouncing me around Mister McDonald and Mister Vandegrift, kind sirs, and stop with the super echo already on the fucking car ads. You're not a Donna Summer 1979 fucking disco, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeese fucking cunt Louise, and W—O—W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAA!

EVERY MOTHER FUCKING COCK EATING DAY, these noisy dirt bag neighbors ARE DRIVING ME NUTS AT THE FUCKING SPEED OF LIGHT CUBED, PUBLIC HOUSING ASS AUTHORITY, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ALL MIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!
This is totally REDICULOUS, MACK KAITER of Northeast freaking ass Maryland of 1967. Cut me a break, Margie Leo!

What some may wish to be made aware of who read Morianity, is thisssssssssss, Miss Erica Lucci snakes of 1983, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! If you were the only one alive on this Earth, pretend you are lost and leaving endless bread crumbs behind you, only instead of breadcrumbs, it is an endless ball of thin colorful twine. Now as time passes, and you move all around, in and out of buildings and homes and down streets and into all kinds of places, this past record will follow behind you. Now bringing the cold reality back, we are not alone, and so our fellow creatures also do this very same thing, and also are leaving this endless twine string behind them no matter where they go, and when, forever and always. Now instead of 20 or so basic prime and second colors, pretend we have sight capable of focusing at solar surface brilliance, so billions of separate coloring shades would now be possible. Each one would have their own unique color. Now imagine the interaction of all of us, not us, but this twine after a week, after a month, a year, 5, 10, and so on. Now take shit one more step still good folks. Remove the US, just see this endless intertwining weaving cosmic interaction. Now, you are ready to be told, that this is what produces a force called the IF, and NOT the fucking other way around, ladies and gentlemen, and whoever else is out here, so say it, YO; WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So where are my trucks, TD?

Every day this week and last week, my nabes love to shout and bang doors, and are around a lot more recently than they were for a while. It takes me time, but I get used to these butt wipes, not that it ever will be a day at the beach, and not that my days at the beach are anything too far removed from rotten and hellish, here with the robbery last year, and back in fucking Atlantic City, with everything from giant girl gang attacks to just you name it and was more like what wasn't fucking around with me, in that totally fucking miserable, and rotten place?

My health and bowels were stuck while sleeping. I will shit my guts out soon, and then take some Metamucil meds to compensate for the MILITUFORCE overnight attack. These scum blew up my airship while I was what all of you call, DREAMING. I wanted to blow them up and then come onto the mortal world, clocked in and invisible; and strike enemy targets here, as I do quite often. When upon occasion my cloak of invisibility dicks out, you have all seen me from time to time, along with others of us from the Astral Plane. Diana told me she wants me to say something on my blogs, so I will, before this is all typed up, as I never disobey my wonderful beautiful GODDESS. The dirt bag enemies have me running around in circles like a blind and decapitated mother fucking chicken, these recent fucking days. As a result, I did not say all I wanted to on my previous blog, M5, CH. 00053. So 54 will now do the talking for me. It is a nice 79 degrees right now in good old fucking cock sucking Port Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG. (United States of America-Planet Earth, System of Sol, Milky Way Galaxy). It has been only low eighties each day, so there's one rotten ass fucking plus out of things at least, Warner Brothers, WHAAAAAAA!
Well no, that's not all folks, and how we all loved their great cartoons as kids, but it seems that many have decided in the new generation X-Y-Z or in this range, that growing up, and even growing normally in time with grace, is some kind of new age sin, with this very demented and delusional mindset, owned and patented by the Hollywood MIND CONTROLLERS, of forever young or else Briggbase Cultists, and the Mortal World (MW) has their own name for this waking world cult. I loved my time, and most like me who refuse to use a cell phone, or join this Third Millennium, simply fade away, and don't. Well, I AM ALREADY in a condition-interaction where HELL swallows up any possibility of RELEASE or DEATH, so LSS, the quintessential rock and hard place, places me just south of the rock, and natch, just north of the hard place. This is one hell of a proverbial mother fucking squeeze, folks. But let us move along now with yesterday after I left the apartment to do a little bit of freaking shopping. I mistakenly said things reversed, so sorry, Mister Ambassador Bombpearl of 1941. Let me finish up the old topic with the fact that this illegal scum ball is back living here across from me, and with that snubby ugly woman, and her totally evil nasty, and raised by total pigs dude; who cares zero for disturbing his closest fucking neighbor, ME, Amanda!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was punished for trying to get help from the Dell guy, not the Dell “gut”, typo sorry, the keys are together on the keyboard, you know, the 'Y' and the 'T', then the West side Fort Pierce Library back eight days ago, and it is every and any time that I ever try and do anything, especially music related. It is not TD or rocket science or the President of the Wow-Truck Refusals Club, just as the TV ad spot says, good common ass sense, YO. Music for some of the lucky folks, makes enormous amounts of money, and the chosen to be cursed HUNTINGTON, say it again gorgeous little Amanda, is not permitted to ever have ANYTHING AT ALL, to keep perpetuating this 'family game', as it goes back more than ten fucking thousand years, and before that; only the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE; really knows in full detail. The three times that I was about to break out of this lack of money curse, I was nearly killed twice physically, 1977 at the Mars Graphics Print Shop in Westville, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and in 1983, making money playing roulette in Atlantic City, at the casinos. First my heart, then my throat. Then separated again by increments of three in years, single blocks or double, as in 1977, 1983, and 1986, and as you can see here, there is a strange three year run, beginning in 1977; but yes, we cannot ever forget or ignore the DANGER-THIRD LAKE, AKA HB in my speculation, but not remembering that road trip up there with my Great Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald, and her two grandchildren, Christopher and Scotty Meyers, on the day of the dog-walking, and other things, huh Re-max Reality; but speaking of all of this, we also cannot forget or ignore, good old wonderful lovely sarcastic 1986, AHA AHA AHA AHA MMCN!!!!! This is when I could make all the money I wanted to at the casinos, and again, was punished and stopped; and just how was this done? did anyone ever really wonder why these shadows came to dwell in the bright daylight? I will tell you, but first folks, here is yesterday, now written today, on the diary of Beaver Cleaver-2, AKA Morianity-Part-5, with no stray cats, no school, and to keep lovely Diana Brewster happy, “No nothing”. Does this meet with your all mighty highness approval, oh great owner of the world, Oprah Lose Bond?

I went to the 'Good Will' and then to the 'Publix' stores, not the other way around. Why would I, as the ice cream would melt if I did not get that last, like DUH and color me anything you want, and don't be my buddy, ANN. See if I care, or even get arrested over it, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It was upon coming out of the Publix Grocery Store at the mini-mall at Virginia and Route 1, that that same aircraft that has dogged me since this all began in 1986, the very exact same one, was up there while I was putting my grocery bags into my vehicle. It used to circle and orbit, literally orbit my Blue Anchor home on summer months, all mother fucking day long. It is way up in the sky and it makes the loudest mother fucking cunt lapping noise you could possibly ever fucking imagine. They let you know, “Boy are we fucking watching you, ya little fucking jit bag prick”, there really is no mistake in their signal, right ADS? When I got home, the apartment was quieter, the main noise at least over the past ten days or so now is from 9 in the morning through 6 in the evening. Then it gets better from 6P through 9A. Oh well, let the quieter quitter bay-fish, move this right along here and do some clutch work, or else; grind grind grind, without any 1994 beaches, or joining outlandish bizarre swimming clubs on 27 June, or other paranormal paraphernalia such as AEB's, right Mister Prosecutor, Ron Wirtz, my old pal????????????????????????????? Ron, kind sir, to this day, I wonder why I do not smash that thing down hard and get it all over with for all of us. Well, no favors for this human race. That would be way too good for them after all they've fucking ass done to me, no favors, baby-love, NONE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, yesterday was another thing that never got mentioned. It was my PCNLD or (Private Cosmicoded Number Lottery Day). This is twice that the Florida 3-Pick Lottery, matched my PCN of '871', and I thought for sure by now that CUZZ DON's number would pop in, also Frank Callio's, also MC's, after-all, there are only 81 PCN's folks, and nearly four million peeps in America have each one of them, simple math folks, 81 times four-mill is equal to the rough guess US Census counted population in the 2010 count, WHAAAA! Well without any weed sucking, or changing places, or role reversals, or audience competing; let me move this along and quit with the dam tangents already, yikes, YO! Now do you see why my kid scares me to death, Pam? I know what she is capable of, and I am just trying now to appease her wrath until my 18 and out. I see this human life of mine as none other than a total fucking prison sentence, and make no bones about it, nor do I act shy about printing it up publicly, Mister Graham, 'TEE HEE HEE', oh Lilly. Where Are You When I Need You, ED, not you, Mister Himacane Lynch?
Oh yes, WAYWINY, and then in past tents, it would become, where were you when I needed you, right Sam Walton, another December 7, 1941 day for me, President Roosevelt. These initials change into WWYWINY, and need and needed both start with the 'N' word, no, not that ugly other 'N' word. You have no idea what fight I would have put up for custody of you, MI, if I had known, but two moms conspiring against it, forget it. Where was all your role reversal stuff when it might have done the most good, I could ask you, oh great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, my endless wonderful Goddess?

Well, it is now in the eighties officially, at 2:09, according to the channel-12 app on my computer. At least it is nothing like the past couple of years where by the end of April it was either high eighties or into the nineties by 12-3 in the afternoon, every dam day. Folks forget stuff, I do not know how they live so controlled and so totally ETOSS-HACKED. When I get the occasional hit by these pricks, I remember those times and can count them on both my hands and that is it, and it always something that pertains to my great swimmer daughter. I still was scared she was going to drown, but learned some really powerful lessons in the process, me that is, not her. She is all mighty, and needs not learn anything, other than my brain is a worthless pile of junk circuits, confusing the address of the Philadelphia Zoo, with where the great Manhattan ES Building is. It is on 34th Street, but not Poplar. What's happening to my nutty mind, Mayor Nutter, and little girl on the TV ad, WHAAAAA? No one knows how real it is to be ETTOS attacked by this powerful family. The day McGuire leaves us all in peace, I will be out surf and turfing, if I have to borrow the money from the dam mob. That's a promise, lovely Re-max Mo, and WOMO as well, Karen Simons. Thanks, traitor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. No, I won't brand you, for old times sake. Laugh time, McNulty!
The last really bad 4 days went as follows on my systems-roulette by the way, good folks. Yesterday I made 7 units. The three other recent bad days were plus 4, plus 1, and plus 5 and a half, TEE HEE HEE, MZ. MUNSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to hate your old pal too much, Congressman Andrews, and remember the good times YO, in 1975, even the time you refused to give me a lift home that evening after 9 P, down at Pileggi's basement, or 'whatever'. You had the coolest stereo, and the coolest girl, Angel. Was she perfect or more like my daughter?

Hay Gawky Gaukauk, here kitty, why has the fucking dick licking persecution over the past ten days or so gotten so bad again with my across the fucking hallway nabes, YO YO YO??????????????????????????

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-682.

TALL GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH—-PROJECT BLUEBOOK—-CANCER—-QUEENS—-MOVING—-THE MORNING LIGHT—-BEAVER—-PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING MACHINE—-TWENTY——————————

HAY GAWKY GAUKAUK, HERE KITTY, ALL THREE TIMES IN MY LIFE, IN 1977, 1983, AND 1986, WHEN I TRIED TO MAKE A LITTLE MORE MONEY THAN IN OTHER TIMES EVER IN MY LIFE, AND SUCCEEDED, I WAS ASSAULTED TWICE PHYSICALLY TO THE NEAR POINT OF DEATH, AND THE FINAL TIME, THE DEATH OF MY ENTIRE LIFE RESULTED AND HAS BEEN THE CASE EVER FUCKING SINCE THAT TIME IN 1986?

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-853.

1954—-36th avenue—-stingray————-

LIKE FUCKING W—-O—-W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy Hannah-88, can I please be forgiven for my last fucking lifetime folks? Thank fucking you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is Herbert Huntington, Ancestry dot com, crissake YO, please do not darken my shadowy dark doorstep ever again; and no more hunting trips for your dam son and his pal McGee's pop. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!! Double-triple fucking WOW, YO.

As always, we could dance all night, and I could talk all day, but no new fucking songs pweeeeeeeze. The current one has me in enough hot water to put the water-heater peeps permanently out of fucking ass business, YO County Jail caller. Yes MC, I did re-listen, before your 5th cuzz 3 times removed, stole the CD, and all your stuff from my bedroom. I know the horrible stuff you were letting me see, and thanks for not offing me. I make you the very same promise now, I made to Sarah Callio, your 4th-7TR. I will as of this blog, leave you entirely out of this. I always loved that wild show with the two continuum's, and how the dude killed himself. That was talent, girl. Well, I'll keep my promise to you. Also, in return, you keep the chain, and no more dreams; not ever, do we have a deal oh great Sarah Krassle??????????????? Only we know what's getting said here, the old shark knows what you tried to tell me. I always loved those kind of sci-fi shows, only this time it's my real life, and that really sucks.
You enjoy your great VR-GAME, it belongs to you, and I had no right to ever try and expose its truths, or yours; just don't make me swim down to the weeds forever, please, my great GODDESS QUEEN, thank you. Ask your CUZZ SARAH if I kept my promise, other than for the one quick time, when I just wanted to show the great artist Billy Harner, her water company.

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Ok good people, a little bit more before I close out. Sorry about the profanity the past few days, today I am not in such a super ugly mood, and because I was not totally viciously persecuted as badly, like DUH, Hyundai-2006!!!

I was able to make a nice four unit profit on that horrendous freaking BOTBAR of Friday the twenty-sixth day of April, on my systems-roulette. Also food people, TEE-HEE-HEE Lilly Munster; I did speak to my wonderful awesome special kitty cat, GAGA, MEOW, interesting how this accepted term of cat-speech is meow, as in ME, OWL, you know, HAY, I AM BEING HURT, but then, American Appliances does sell great stuff, and that refrigerator in 1986 that caused me t nearly cut off my hand back at 1931 Marlton Pike (Route-70), in Cherry Hill, New Jersey; is a lot more part of a lot of music than some may ever get to realize, as I cannot tell, or I'll get the crap knocked out of me in my sleep by gorgeous wonderful Isiscylla. I did not know you knew about my toes, only my fall in the street, and that GAGA, was really an OWL or an OUCH, depending on how the deal goes, WHAAAAAA!

The two queries to my cat on that horrific freaking BOTBAR DAY, were as freaking follows, ladies and gentlemen, and any other entities out here, AHA-AHA-AHA-MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!

HAY GAGA, AFTER A SHORT RECENT TURN-DOWN IN THE STOCK MARKET FOR ABOUT TWO WEEKS, WHY IS IT SUDDENLY SHARPLY TURNING BACK UP AGAIN, YO?

MEOW-MEOW-MARKEY-SHARKEY—PCN-462—TRANSLATION:

FRED WINDSTEIN—-TAPE—-WAVE—-ALL RANDOMS HAVE PATTERNS————————————————-

HAY GAGA, WHAT WAS BEHIND THIS INCREDIBLE WORSE THAN EVER SIEGE AND ATTACK SHORTLY AFTER 4 PM TODAY, BY MY DIRT BAG BOTTOM FEEDER PIG NABES ACROSS THE HALLWAY FROM ME, YO?

MEOW-MEOW-MARKEY-SHARKEY—PCN-927—TRANSLATION:

CHRISTMAS—-PAULA KING—-LIFEGUARD—-DAVID ROTH—-DREW CAREY—-CORAL REEF—-MANHATTAN—–

END TRANSMISSION FOR NOW, FOLKS……..

Mountainpen Nebnooshoo pasting

Love is for Carpenters – King Nebnooshoo

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Hyper Massive Chemtrail activity over Alps, Feb 2012

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Chemtrails 2012 HD TimeLapse Zeitraffer

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Chemtrails of 1987 – King Nebnooshoo

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Raw: Typhoon Picks Up, Flips Car

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0578

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0578

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294

SBT-DATFILE: 093012.657-BLUES

COINCIDENCE? DON’T THINK SO PEEPS.

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NYUMBER FOUR, (BSNF):

“OTHER STUFF CONTINUES FROM 1983 AND 1984 TAPES”

© MARK WAYNE HATED PATHETIC MOHR 2006-2012

THIS IS A VOLUNTARILY SWORN OATH OF ABSOLUTE

TRUTHS WITHOUT OMISSIONS OR ADDITIONS TO THAT TRUTH, AS BEST AS IT IS KNOWN TO ME ON THIS DATE AS REFLECTEDE ABOVE, SO HELP ME FLAG OF THE USA, AND UNDER MY GREAT GODDESS SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION, YO:

I have powerful stuff to talk about. Also, I am under a heavy aerial assault today with one of the WOMO-MILITUFORCE famously used tools of their great carpentry kit of pure evil from the Astral Plane, the mighty PAWM-PIE-ETTOS. The day is super BOTBAR, and a lot of heavy amounts of young goddess type of girls, are all over the place. I was out getting my prescriptions at the Walgreen’s Pharmacy, and spending my final three and a half dollars until the 3rd and what would have been my mother’s 93rd birthday, good old frikkin September the third. My Dad was one week later on September the tenth, and my mother used to love to say how she robbed the cradle. I am not touching this one ladies and gentlemen. Somebody contacts, in my opinion, all poster’s of anything chemtrail-related, and sends them about four and half billion websites to check out, showing all of us the error of our ways. He even mentions how Joanie Mitchel sings a famous song of hers, about them, from 1967. They are all through the HAIR movie4 done in 1979, the remake of the original hit New york Broadway theatrical original performance in 1968, HAIR. I also had Donna summer’s wild version of this, done as a teenager, long before she ever did anything else,, now it belongs to the FBI via the basement of Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas. No SPELL CHECKER, if Ms Mitchel wants to spell her name Joanie, that is entirely her business, but hopefully she’ll have enough good common sense back in time to stay away from some real lovely folks that her friends like Dusty, Carlie, and poor paranoid, yeah right, Janis, did not all stay away from, down in wonderful sweet and totally mobbed-up ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now Carlie falls victim to the errorr’d ways of the Micro-Sucks spell-checker computer system also, WEEEEEEEEE, new Bank Trucks, and fuck you too again, as if I want to fucking say ERROR’D, then that is what I’ll say, you don’t own me or my life, you silly ass fucking computer program, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, watch out for FIRE MCGUIRE. He loves to also destroy people’s personal property, and tries to kill pets, wreck automobiles, and even though my credibility is total zero, my kid does pull a lot of weight, only she does not believe the great PRINCE, not me, on the jet issue, or what happened a long time ago. Unfortunately, I cannot randomly select what I choose to uncover, discover, and come to learn as fact. I disagreed with my mom on this, and never thought that I would disagree with her granddaughter, oh well Mayor Levy, who can know the future? Yeah right, to that one as well, huh your back-pain honor? No one talks about the OJ TRIAL, CNN VIDEO, that day, where some MILITUFORCE CRAFT, WARPED out of our orbit, as it is all there, and it really happened. Yes, I had the tape. Now guess who has this tape. Either the KING’s, or the FIBBIES.

Do I know why the CHEMTRAIL ATTACK IS SO BAD TODAY? You can bet your ass that I do, Annie Costner, bodyguard of the Iowa cornfields. I HAD AN EXTREMELY INCREDIBLE EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION right before awakening at half past ten this morning, another one, what is this half past ten shit all about, I am left to begin pondering on quite philosophically, and perhaps even criminally? This also rings lots of head bells, as things tend to repeat in numbers, and in events; and on and on I could go on this very wild topic. Ten-thirty was choke time, on the evening of June 4th in 1983, where that all began along with Sabrina Collins from the REAL DARK SHADOWS SHOW, back when talent was real, and not all synthesized and copied, and who am I to talk in this great pot and kettle situation, many I’m quite sure are asking right about frikkin now? There also was another half past ten, also at night, on a Saturday, more than twenty-six years ago. I was with the loveliest girl I ever met, and ended up never knowing what forces had brought us together intentionally, and nearly had a fate of my own waiting for me, called Rikers Island Jail. For non, New Yorkers, there are many other things on this island, it is not just a jail, just in case anyone is remotely interested. There is something for me, about ten thirty, usually at night, but it can be morning as well, so it seems. In any event, I will tell the wild exploratronic interaction or as you might call it, wild vivid DREAM, to you on this blog, but before we do get into it, I want to discuss a few things that will lead up just ever so nicely, into all of it. The person leaving me a lifetime of information to check out regarding the CHEMTRAIL subject, needs me to say a few things here. I did successfully reply to your message, yours was the only one that worked. When I tried PP, I got all kinds of screens as he is a member of the AOL-INTERNET, and hard as I tried, I could not get back to him, SAR knows I tried. I tried replying to my new friend ADS, and also failed, in fact his entire comment on the WORDPRESS to me, vanished, poof, and that was that, fortunately for me, I copied down to frikkin e-mail address that he has, so I will at least be able to communicate once someone ever helps me. Things for me are not like Mister Knowso can ever imagine, because he is not me, just as I am not him. He does not think that I know the history of chemtrails. Most folks until this very year, do not think these things existed before the nineties, and I of course know that this is a lot of crap. Not only were both contrails abnd chemtrails around before the nineties and before my problem with them began in either the end of november or the start of December, in the year of 1987, but in fact, they do show up on many Hollywood movies, HAIR from 1979 being one of them, and in the song done by JM in the middle late nineteen-sixties, she is indeed driving through the Western deserts of the United States, and sees her share of the very same grid pattern thickening cloud dissipating stuff, that is shown on the remake of the Broadway Play HAIR, and before JM sang her song of bedazzlement while doing some desert driving, there is history far beyond this. I have in my possession, both a contrail and a chemtrail, during the CIVIL WAR, Miss KNOWSO JESSICA GRANT, a descendant of our great General and later to follow US President, YO. This is because the same things that have caused the ‘REAL GOOD GIRL’ (MY) INTRO situation, and the trip from September 30th in 2008, up to October 31st in that same year, only a 31 day time travel, but time travel nonetheless folks, and the 6-9 rooms in a home I never saw ever, and had no reason to ever see it, owned by Judge Frank Raso of Hammonton, New Jersey; being shown to me by the greatest female recording artist on this planet, Mariah Carey; and the list goes on with literally hundreds of personal real actual time travel stunts that somehow are all involved in my life; are not something that the mighty KNOWSO Patrick Jane of the MENTALIST television show, or anyone else sharing the view that there totally is no way that anything beyond the natural order physical-plane can exist; is a total fool. What throws off the belief or disbelief, and also causes age old disputes and down right nasty arguments, is something called TRANSDIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. This is not understood except for, and by, a handful of top physicists. It explains why I can go back in time ten minutes and shoot myself dead, and it has nothing to do with all the other rationalizations made so far even by the greatest minds of the scientific community. Time travel no matter how it is done, even the so-called trips to the future in fast space ships, is not what people think at all. You would have to see the reality in pictures, words will never do it justice. If you take the video of a car moving down a street at this lasts from one o’clock until one minute past, and you slow it down, and watch it, this car becomes many cars and many time-realities, and all that is happening in or out of so-called normal or extra-normal travel throughout that minute, is energy of mind, transferring from instants to instants in a very very miniscule kind of a time fraction. As this MIND-ENERGY is moving by way of its very nature of its own existence as a sent signal from the sixth dimension, down into all of the 5th dimensional lower hyperspace parallel universes, a lot of things are happening that 21st century science is only starting to wrap their frikkin heads around at the top think tank and physics lab level. In the early 22 hundreds, the accepted reality of SPACE-TIME-MIND becomes understood, and this alters life on planet Earth beyond a million times that of the wheel or fire or even prostitution, if I can be allowed a little lightening of the load here with some attempted humor, good peeps. We can get back to all of this and more, at later times. For now, the chemtrail topic is indeed complex, and it has nothing to do with any one thing, and anyone who believes that something so big as this, can really be such a mono-topic, is kidding themselves. Without these chemtrails, it is difficult to use STM as efficiently, so they are placed all over everywhere, and until the nineties came in, folks were literally in their own zones a lot more, but they were all over the place, just less in the eighties, and less still before the eighties, but they WERE THERE, and I do know the history of them, and need not be reminded of this by any so-called all-knowing folks. This is all very personal for me, and I don’t expect to be believed on face value when I make that claim, as why should a nobody be? I get it, I am not a frikkin moron. Now I want to talk to my new pal ADS as the next paragraph starts, and this will then work to automatically dovetail into the powerful DREAM from early this morning before my awakening to start this BOTBAR last day of the month, and many of my followers, know about MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE and using it against me by the evil vicious WOMO since 1986, just as they also use ICPE/PARALELL EVENT, ALL BRINGING ME TO ENDLESSLY SUFFER WITH THIS EVIL TRILOGY OF THE PHILLIES, FLYERS, DOW JONES DEAL!!!!!!!!

Since I am no good with computers, I lost your comment, and you can re-ask me and I will answer, but for now; I hope you read, and are trying using, the great mystical powerful FASCITAR TOOL, that I explained to you, and the rest of Morianity, and not for the first time, on a near recent blogging text. The Fascitar can take you into a connection with the sixth dimension, placing your energetic awareness onto the ASTRAL-PLANE, where you can create an interaction, and by merely thinking anything, it is just all around you, as you are merged instantly into what you are thinking, and the illusion of a space and a time dimension are created right along with you as you do this. This is the total opposite of waking world life, where first we appear to totally need space and time, in order to then make an interaction, or even have a body that powers a brain that is able to generate ‘THOUGHT’. This is why the PHYSICAL and the ASTRAL are planes that will never be able to be merged. They are as far away from each other as anything can theoretically ever be, but not in time, and not in distance, but in TRUTH. I do not say that because of this, that truth is a dimension, however it almost is. The zero dimensional void infinity IS TRUTH, and that is a LACK OF ALL DIMENSION. How can anything really be real? How can things be created when there is just void, nothing? They CANNOT BE. However, we can, and do, learn to successfully DREAM OUT AND AWAY FROM THAT VOID LACK OF DIMENSIONAL TRUTH, and onto the lower ASTRAL PLANE, where from there, we further DREAM DOWN into physical material waking worlds, or the fifth dimensional hyperspace, that contains virtually endless and countless ‘4-D’ parallel-universes, such as the one right here where I am typing this message, and you are reading it. Well, we believe we are, when in TRUTH, we are always simply EXISTING at the void, or ZERO-D, and dreaming out and away from that, and into all of this, nothing of this is real, but it is one hell of an illusion, or a DREAM.

Here is what I was interacting with in my thoughts that were more real seeming than any day or night in so-called waking life, that I can remember. I found myself on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, and for a brief moment, the same dream or whatever, that I was interacting in back on the morning of the 7th of December of 1996, where the great Mary Tyler Moore was wearing her famous green dress and standing on a non existing balcony at the Trinidad Hotel, facing the street, as no balcony ever faced the street, only the pool and then the street or just the pool, but here in this experience there were rooms facing the King Parking Lot and McGuire’s Hotel and Erin Bar, and balconies, and I had not yet met McGuire or talked with Misses Estelle Bassler, that all came in February and March of the following year of 1997, the year my mom fell savagely victim to almost a voo-doo curse type of outlandish medical condition. We can get into that, a lot more at other future times and blogs. The scene quickly turned to where I was up on the boardwalk at the Frailenger Salt Water Taffy Store where in waking life I spent many many times inside of throughout my younger life. Suddenly, the GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE was just standing there and we begabn talking as though the two of us had normal routine conversations there, every single day. I remember thinking of my life and not realizing I was ‘dreaming’, and thinking to myself while we were talking, “Why does this feel so normal and every-day usual to me, just thinking nothing of talking to, and being with, the most beautiful giant teenager in the multiverse, like it’s nothing? Then we walked down to HER lovely shop, she told me to run up and down the street calling her name, and so I did this. Suddenly she and I were eleven years old and it was the summer of 1966. I was wondering why my left wrist hurt me and was all bandaged up. I then remembered that it was about six weeks earlier, when Bruce Walter, in Westmont, New Jersey, had chased me inside of my apartment at 125-A Haddon Hills, with a hellish tasting concoction that he had made in my mom’s kitchen, and was going to force me to drink because I would not stop cursing so badly. Sarah then walked with me to her upstairs area above the great shop, that Misses Bassler kept insisting was not where I know it was back in time, when I would speak to her often from my Somerdale home throughout most of 1997, after learning she no longer lived after 1974 at 30 South Plaza Plaza Place in South Atlantic City, New Jersey, but instead had moved down to northern Florida, to Ormund Beach, a place I would come to visit a dozen years in the future on my drive down from Cifaloglio to Fort Pierce in December of 2009. The minute I saw the area, I remembered it from countless recurring and repeating very vivid dreams, but this is just an added foot note, and we need now to go back to the point that is discussing this wild vivid dream of just this very morning. I swear this all happened in this powe3rful dream, so if anyone does not want to hear some powerful truth, maybe now is a good time to move over and read the blogs of Martha P. Hallaway, and her Rare French Gold and Silver coins collection, or perhaps you might try the blogs of Donnie D. Dillinger, and his Life as a Florida Keys Painter; but if you remain here, you will hear some stuff, and what you hear may shock you a little. Hay, maybe you’ll just yawn and say, there goes Mountainpen, as usual, honey, pass me another biscuit, and another cup of tea, and definitely one for my pal, Patrick Jane, the disbeliever. But before I march things right along here, I owe some peeps an apology for my stupidity, and I will admit that when I am wrong and all; spaced out over something, that indeed, I was, and will gladly say how very sorry I am for being a dick head. Please accept my frikkin apology. I came to learn just this very day, and hour, that nobody hacked into my YOUTUBE ACCOUNT. This is just a random tool button that pops up on videos here and there, so people can make them better by improving lighting or color and what have you, as most things on the YT are photographs and moving images, where this would all pertain to. I am sorry for going off and getting pissed over nothing. What a dork I am, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I took a two hour break to eat dinner and watch the local and world news. It seems that Texas had a little rumble all its own yesterday, a small quake. If you don’t want too many nasty aftershocks, please back off this persecution, thank you, dick head twat chewers. Now back to my pal and my continuing message to ADS. It is now 835 millidays, today, the 30th and final day of September. The first quarter of 2012 is just a tad bit more than four hours away. As I said, I will try and tell my pal, if he is listening, on the BLOGGER site, as I don’t regularly post on any other site now, as this one brings the most accurate recreation of my word document to the viewer. If this blog is appearing on any non blogger dot come website, and yoyu are not reading it clearly or print words crush together, then revisit me where each post is put up in order, by clicking the following web address:

http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/ and you will be able to see things more clearly, maybe not my message, but at least the printed words that make it up. Now, I will try answering what question I think you asked me, in fact, I think you already read my other message, and it may have inadvertantly caused me to remember an Astral Plane exerience as remember good friend, they are not existing in a time continuum there, and we are here, so when you think that you are remembering any altered styate of conscious thoughts and events, it has no time order referenced to you at the moment that you are remembering it. When you wake up and say, wow, what a dream, you did not just have a dream nor are you just now remembering this. All things exist in void, later being dreamed down into the Astrality of existence, a starry and lighter realm. Then later, we dream down further into all of these human dreams of caporial tangible material life that we call real or physical, totally in error, as reversing the truth just about always will equal or become a large majority of it. We see the Earth or any world we would be on as a flat surface. We see the sun going around us by rising in the east and setting in the west. It seems that it is quite normal that most things whether it be intentional or accidental, are all tricking our senses through some kind of reversal mechanism. If you could reverse the so-called smart money moves, all of them, on the market, and be wealthy enough to ride out the temporary swings against your positions, you would always win and make the biggest money. Everyone in a majority, guesses wrong. Reversing the majority concept is always going to contain more of the truth and accuracy of something. Now I believe you wanted to know if a shared dreaming experience in the hyperspace or down here in these parallel universes of waking world physicality, would effect or be able to effect the Astral. The answer is always NO. All things are first real and true in the void. Then in the Phase-2, they are always most real and ahead of anything dreamed down from there on lower planes or realms such as waking world 5th dimensional hyperspace. All that can happen in a reverse direction, is exactly what I think just happened, only I have yet to tell it,, my powerful full EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION OF THIS MORNING, with SSJKK, the All Mighty Goddess. I believe that because you and I have made contact on this computer, my friend ADS, this has happened. Still, until I totally know you and we talk on e-mail, which will be coming to pass if indeed one of two possible things is the reality of this situation; as since I cannot undo the accidental erasure of your comment while attempting to reply to it, only the date would help me in making up my mind or ruling one thing out, as if it is back this spring, and only because of coinciding initials to something, it would make one huge thing a possibility and in the quanta waves, only finding out that you are not the person I think this could be or have been actually, then we will eliminate one thing, and as the Quantum Physicists say so well, the half alive and half dead cat will be caught and no longer in the state of quantum flux. Either way, reality is reality. If you are still with me, alive, and reading this, and were thinking about the message that I just printed a couple days ago for you, then either way would explain what I used to call, the RPLDD, that we need not really fully examine right now. We will speak at more lengths about all this on future blogs, and I want to see if you have an active e-mail account. A lot of peeps tend to vanish out of existence when they communicate with me, one way or the other. The main thing is not to fear these Shadows from hell, as their food and sustenance IS OUR FEAR. If we starve these monsters, they weaken and even go away in time. If we feed them with our fear and give them glory, even as biblically spoken in scripture teachings and principles, especially in the religion and faith called, Christianity, then THEY TAKE HOLD and then THEY GAIN VICTORY OVER US, and only then, my friend. Now, since this still pertains to ADS, let me tell the rest of this powerful “DREAM” that woke me at 10:30 this morning with quite a bouncing bang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told how SHE told me to run up and down the street calling HER name, and how we ended up in the upstairs area above the Tennessee Avenue shop. She wanted me to open up the middle dresser drawer of a three drawer dresser, and I did, the very same one I had for many years and kept my own clothes in as a youth and even as an adult, and did not lose this piece of furniture until early-middle 1994, when I moved into the Highview Apartments, in Williamstown, New Jersey on April the first in 1994. When I opened this up, a large motorcycle chain was not inside this drawer, as I had totally expected it to be. Then SSJKK turned to me, as the eleven year old SARAH, who I knew from the middle sixties, and told me that SHE wanted the chain to be there, that I had it up in the future, and SHE went onto remind me of my two organizational mentor big brothers that I had had, Fredrick Hinger from the Philharmonic, and later, John Henningsen from the Campbell’s Soup Company. She told me that John, the second BIG BROTHER would be giving me this chain, and that I needed to keep my strongbox unlocked on an exact date, when December of 1969 rolls around. I have no memory of any of this is so-called real or waking (life). I only remember the chain being in this strongbox, and then always locking it, as it also contained something that was not for my mother’s eyes, or any other nosy person who just might be poking around while I was not home at the Dellway Arms Apartments, and was off at school. All I remember in waking life is the powerful DREAM where SARAH took the chain away on a beach, and then placed it into her middle dresser drawer above HER shop in that upstairs area, SHE seems to have some kind of affinity with ‘UPPER ROOMS”, and then remember, MISTER KNOWSO know-it-all, that the very next day, was the day that I got onto the school bus to go to school, and suddenly, there was a gigantic three criss crossed perfectly angled CHEMTRAIL, that spread out all over the skies above Camden County, New Jersey, that early winter and early morning December day back in 1969, this was not some ride through the desert, nor was this some, DREAM, as others refer to things in reverse. Still, and trying to stick to the point here, in the experience that I seemingly had this morning, by my reference to waking world time illusion, here is what frikkin played out, my pal, or well, until the cat is out of quantum flux, this is a non touchable subject, who knows? I suddenly remember a lot of haze and trying to focus my eyes that worked just fine until this haze came suddenly busting out of nowhere and onto this ‘dream-scene’. I found myself taking the chain in 1969, and bringing it to SSJKK, now back in HER true form as the six foot seven inch goddess from SAHASRA DAL KANWAL, HER great city, that in some ways mirror images Atlantic City, as though Atlantic city is some shrunken down incredibly miniaturized version of the ‘real’ thing. SSJKK smiled at me and placed it into her middle drawer, and told me that SHE will sing my favorite song to me now, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”. I fell dead asleep in my own ‘dream’ right in HER arms. The next thing I knew, I was putting on the best clothes that I had, a nice suit that was given to me through the AARP Program and the man Trevor Watkins who was my overseer there, and who had some kind of connections with the local area Salvation Army Store. I put on these really nice clothes, and drove in my car to an area like I never saw in my life. It was half inside and half outside, of something, it was, and it wasn’t all at the same time, even for me, like wow, this was totally off the wall frikkin’ weird. Then, I sat down on some bleachers, about midway up on them, at the left end of them when they are facing me head on. There were no other bleachers, yet they were on the left side of something, of what I just cannot pull up. Suddenly a limo drove up, and Mariah Carey the great recording artist got out with a man, some white dude about thirty to forty, with average build and height, medium length hair for the styles of men today, brownish hair that was slightly balding, and was dressed immaculately, as was MC. She was wearing the huge motorcycle chain around her neck in a triple loop, and she sounded more like a house pet than a person when she walked over towards me, as a result. We taqlked, and it was as though we had met here and talked on many ocassions. I remember thinking, why is this so normal to be with the greatest singer on the planet, as though this happened all the time? Then she asked me if I wanted to hear “the song”. I said of course I did, not knowing what was going on. Then she sang it to me, with her beyond beautiful voice. It was not a tune I recognized from anywhere in this world at any time, not even remotely. When this was done, she took off the chain and asked me if I wanted to wear it for a while. I was scared and told her that SHE is the All mighty Goddess, and that I had no business to ever wear HER great chain. She laughed softly and told me that this chain is a lot more than I have3 come to yet figure out. Then she touched it, and instantly it became a smaller more normal sized chain made of beautiful topaz and diamonds, huge rocks an inch thick that had weird shapes, and were all connected by this solid silver but now, quite thin chain. I noticed a medallion on it at the bottom, and on it read I AM 231. Then the next thing I knew, I was awake back here in this very room, and it was about 10:30 AM, give or take a minute or two. I have not had this powerful an interaction with the All mighty Goddess, in I do not remember how long, 2008 sometime or there about. This was the time they all began and just kept coming up through the Shop rite purple highlights in the hair dream that is on my blogs. Anyway, for now this is enough about this powerful ‘DREAM’.

MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER LVII, KING NEBNOOSHOO

For a clear read with photos and links and stuff all working, use this link please, my friends and fiends, tanks!!!!!!

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

Have a nice read, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Friday, April 26, 2013

MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER LVII, KING NEBNOOSHOO MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS FOR A FUTURE GRAND JURY.

I NEED YOUR HELP, MIZZ A.G. BIG TIME!!!

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean.

10:47 PM-EDST, 25 APRIL, 2013, THURSDAY NIGHT:

That was what it was before the WORST MOTHER FUCKING DAY OF 2013 CAME IN, FRIDAY, it is now Saturday Morning at 25 minutes past mother fucking midnight, electrical number three cubed, (27) April, 2013. Yesterday was a major super fucking BOTBAR DAY. Folks, I have a hell of a monster fucking story to impart to you all today, and if you’re not in the mood for a really major talk with the Mountainpen here, move it over to the ”NEXT-BLOG”, I strongly urge you, but staying here will result in some pillow talking from DAD, and many other things, they were warned, and they did not care or they called my fucking bluff or whatever, Congressman, but that old saying of Dawn-Marie King is quite fitting here good peeps, “It is what it is”, and again, it appears to be quite magically buried or cosmically perhaps, as this contains the built in goddess of Babylon, both and either one of them, now or back then, my lovely wonderful and beautiful, who else, ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***MORIANITY PART FIVE***

A child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube site, that will NOT be gone forever very shortly. Not after that threat I took over at the FORT PIERCE WEST LIBRARY, 9 DAYS AGO, BRO, YO!

http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/

THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART FIVE:

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Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

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About me

Gender

Male

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Occupation

paranormal researcher

Location

Hammonton, New Jersey, United States

Introduction

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.

Interests

I close my mind to nothing

Favorite Movies

all old movies

Favorite Music

most old music

Favorite Books

The Winds Of War, Gone With The Wind, Time Travelers From Our Future

You forgot your mom’s birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?

An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.

I DEMAND MY FUCKING PROPS.

55555555

LP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 26 April.

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EGG HARBOR CITY’S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING’S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!!!!!!!

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Jupiter, Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU NOW ARE READING MORIANITY PART 5,

AND I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00057.

YOU ARE READING MORIANITY, PART 5, GOOD FOLKS, CHAPTER NUMBER ————————————————– 00056. I do not think this blog will be enjoyed, but I needed to get shit off my chest, and it beats throwing a hand grenade, I vent by blogging, so thank you Chris Bennett, YO! WAYWINY, lovely Diana, my baby-blond Lightning Goddess???????????

BEAUTIFUL LIGHTNING (GODDESS DIANA), SUBMITTED BY A CHANNEL 12 VIEWER, NOW PASTED FROM THEIR TV-APP.

MY LOVE FOR YOU IS ENDLESS, LOVELY BABY-BLOND. NOW WE ALL CAN SEE YOU ONE NIGHT IN ARIZONA, THANX.

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I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,

OK people, here is what happened, and no one will believe it, and I am typing it for my own record, not so that anyone anywhere will see it and believe it, shit all fucking mighty, if I were you and you were me, I know I wouldn’t believe it, so maybe that tells you to hit that NB button now, this will get deeper than your wildest fucking fantasies, sweet adorable Alice Vera Mel, not greedy Fisher MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is none minutes shy of one, and I will be calling 911 if this party all day long across the hall does not stop. IT HAS BEEN DOORS, DOORS, DOORS, SLAMMING ALL MOTHER FUCKING DAY KLONG. I do not have to take this after one in the mother fucking cunt lapping dick chewing MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!! Actually, it was pretty quiet until 3 in the afternoon, then one by one, these evil vile uncouth monster slobs starting filing in, and by quarter past four yesterday late afternoon, it was slam slam bang, and still is at one in the cunt eating morning. I have a powerful feeling the FUCKING CUNT POLICE WILL BE HERE, BEFORE THE SUN RISES. I WILL NOT BE ABUSED THIS WAY, AND JUST SIT FUCKING HERE AND EAT THIS FUCKING SHIT, FROM THESE FUCKING TWISTED DISEASED MONSTERS, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They know the other neighbor is away, my pal Stanley, or they would not make this much cock licking fucking noise all day and night; but if only I AM HERE, 1988 or no fucking 1988; PROPHET OF FUCKING CUNT MCDONALD’S NOTHING; THEN I’LL GET ROYALLY AND TOTALLY FUCKING ASS SCREWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But if this day was just THIS HORRIBLE MONSTER OVER ACROSS THE FUCKING HELL HALL WITH HIS DIRT BAG EVIL SCUM BAG PEEPS, I could take it, but unfuckingfortunately for me, this is only a part of my fucking hell on this beyond MONSTER ASS FUCKING DAY FROM HELL CUBED CUBED CUBED AND CUBED, AND BEYOND ABNY NORMAL ASS FUCKING CUNT LAPPING B—O—T—B—A—R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Far beyond seeing constant fucking CLOCK-ONES, and other constant ONES-ATTACKS from Miss Dirtbag Jane Sleazeweedsdisease BITCH from 20 years ago in fucking cunt eating ’93, I have dropped shit, injured myself, been attacked in all possible ways including one of the worst health death ray beam assaults ever where I was on the toilet for hours, and I was one fucked up shit head duck. I will tell you all something right now before even getting really into the heart and the meat of yesterday’s beyond SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY: That fucking rotten 1983m song has caused me a mountain top an an ocean basin of trouble that none of you out here have a clue about, as I know since no one wants to go and listen to it, and I know because the count never changes on my YT account, when I deduct my views and my link up posts. Well, I will not say none, but maybe, and I mean MAYBE, it has been hit 6-10 times, and I said and will reiterate again, MAYBE!!!!!!!!!!!! As I speak, my twelfth fucking MORTY MORTINO DEATH ANDROID attack is striking me on my mother fucking cunt eating right side, the eleventh one was when I was shortly into starting this blog, and I have no time to waste on that dirt bag prick, reporting every visitation from this shit ass buttwipe clown, YO YO YO YO!!! Here is the real fucking shit, and it happened when I crashed out for the night around just past 2 AM on Friday fucking ass morning, BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WAS TAKEN BACK TO PROVINCE ”WEIRD”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was done totally against my will, as it was in late June of fucking pussy huffing two thousand and dick eating eight. For those that may not have a clue, this is a condition-interaction of the Astral-Plane, so far away from the normal interactions of Province-Olympia, that no words would be usable here, it would be the distance of about a quintillion orbits around the hypersphere universe of ours while we’re awake on this so-called, “Physical-Plane”. Diana was with me, and the LAMBRIGG CULT forced an unconditional surrender of myself and my air-ship, the Ricktown-1, and we went through a gigantic pipe like one of those municipal water pipes, only about 50 miles in diameter, otherwise, appearing just like one of them here in the fucking ass waking world, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Diana was allowed to remain with me for a while, then she was mysteriously made to vanish away, and they tortured me beyond anything imaginable, the agony was like 1000 years of someone stabbing your body all over, and you cannot bleed out and die, or you do and then you just instantly experience some bizarre tissue and blood regeneration. This then happens over and over, and the agony gets worse as the interaction of seeming-time passes in the ongoing torment and torture. Now I know that this is real, what I am now going to tell you, and nothing similar to this has happened to fucking cunt me, since Christmas time, in the fucking year of 2007, at my place of employment, the Cifaloglio Garage, near Folsom, New Jersey, USAESMWG!!!

I died of a fucking stroke in ‘my sleep’ last night, it happened, and I totally fucking know that this happened. The agony on the Astral-Plane was somehow able to connect into my body here in waking ordinary consciousness, to a sufficient level, so as to fucking kill me, and it was a stroke, and it was fucking horrible. Now comes the wilder part, my good folks. I woke up and somehow crawled to the hallway, and yelled for help, and was taken to the hospital; where I was pronounced fucking DEAD there. Then I was asleep again; and this cycle went on and on for what seemed as long as the fucking torture that caused it to happen in the first fucking place. When I finally came out of this experience, I jumped out of bed, tripped and fell, yelled, and ran for a light, any fucking light, and I will not be able to sleep without a bright light on for a very fucking cunt lapping long while, just like after my fatal heart attack and other horrible shit from my early blogging days of super SIEGE AND PUMMELING ATTACK FROM THIS LAMBRIGGER CULT OF HELL ITSELF, NOTICE PLEASE, THAT I DID NOT SAY FROM HELL. I said OF HELL, and fuck you MICROSOFT, NOT ODF, screw your dam hack, I am not in the mother fucking ass mood for that shit right about now, YO!

You do not need to know everything, but I will tell you all one thing, DOROTHY GLINDASISTERTRAIL: NO I DO NOT SURRENDER; NOT AFTER THIS SIEGE AND DEATH-HELL ASSAULT, YOU MOTHER FUCKING PIECES OF DIRTY ASS RIOTTEN FUCKING MONKEY CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Folks, the real joke is that you don’t, and cannot ever, know half of what is going on, if I told, even though I am a certified fucking fruitcake, it would be Chappaquiddick Bridge for me, and then McGuire would light up my remains and I’d fucking glow for a day and a fucking ass half, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One thing this OZ-man can tell you, is that Bluebook Warren and the rest of the WASH-DOCK gang from 13-600-ville, are all clueless to a lot of shit that is right under their nose. They all think they’re all that up there in the capitol, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, Dawn and DAD willya gimme a fucking bweak there Mister cunt eating Elmer Fwudddddd?????????????? TANKS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We are NOT playing with TIME TRAVELERS, just travelers, and folks, you are saying to yourself right about now, no doubt, what the fuck do you mean, and my response is that if you need to say that after all this fucking ass Morianity, I cannot aid you in just more mere fucking lingo made up of mere combinations of alphabet letters, it won’t work, this is what the gods know about that tongue shit, they’re not fucking talking about some real cool make out sessions, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I have been fatally car crashed, struck dead by Diana, poisoned with non-Mace-cans, shot, stabbed, crushed by a freight train, chocked and strangled, and not crashed in a car to my death once, but on several occasions, and something WON’T FUCKING LET ME DIE, yet if you came over and shot me, to your frame of reference I would be dead and forever gone, bow THJAT, is the real fucking PROVINCE WEIRD ROCKDROID EQUATION, sir Rotten Berry, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No aha-aha-aha tonight, Mike fucking cunt McNulty, old 1971m opal, just not in the fucking ass mood, so sorry mister 1941m Ambassador of fucking cunt lapping JAPAN, huh lovely daughter PEE K——-omicassi????????????????? My life dwarfs the fucking SECOND WORLD WAR, 10 million times, or should I just keep my cuzz happy and say five meeeyun? Cut me 1, Marge Leo!

5555555555555555555555555555

For more, just scroll, no need to fucking click on the margin, good people, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

10:47 PM-EDST, 25 APRIL, 2013, THURSDAY NIGHT:

I TOLD YOU GINA, THEY PICK THE FUCK ON ME, OVER AND OVER, AND EVEN THOUGH THE DOW BEGAN TO GO DOWN FOR A WHILE, THIS RECENT 10-15 DAYS OF SHIT ON ME, EVERY DAY, WITH POUNDING, AND PUMMELING, AND PERSECUTION BY FILTHY FUCKING EVIL NEIGHBORS; AND LOTS OF OTHER FUCKING SHIT; AND THE DOW JONES GOES UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, DAY AFTER DAY, AFTER DAY, AFTER DAY. A FUCKING TWISTED MORON LITTLE SNOTTY CHILD, CAN SEE MY WORDS ARE ALL FUCKING TRUE. WHERE IS THE WONDERFUL ATTORNEY GENERAL WHEN I NEED HER, OH GREAT PRESIDENT-O???????????? THIS IS WHY PEEPS REACH THAT MAGIC BOILING POINT, I NEVER WILL, BUT THIS IS WHY THESE INCIDENTS WILL NOT STOP HAPPENING, AS IT JUST GETS ENDLESSLY MOTHER FUCKING WHITE WASHED, AND COVERED UP, BY POWERFUL ‘PENTAGON FUCKING ALIENS’, OR ‘WHATEVER’ BODY SNATCHING EXPLORATRONIC SHIT IS REALLY GOING FUCKING ON, AND DON’T LET CLARINET PLAYER, PLAYER BILL, BULLSHIT US. HE KNOWS THE ENTIRE FUCKING MESS, AND HAS TO SHUT UP ON PAIN OF DEATH; HIS AND THE ENTIRE FAM. FOLKS, QUIT BEING SO FUCKING naïve AND STUPID, AND ‘MICROSOFT I-N-SIS-TS ON SPELLING’ naïve IN SMALLS, I AM NOT DOING THIS, YO!!!!!!!!!!! I DID THE OTHER CUTE ASS LITTLE THING AFTERWARD, WHAAAAAA, MMCN!

I am one angry mother fucker about a lifetime of mother fucking endless cock sucking MAJOR PERSECUTION, good freaking folks out here, and all my loyal MORIANS, YO YO!! So quit bouncing me around Mister McDonald and Mister Vandegrift, kind sirs, and stop with the super echo already on the fucking car ads, you’re not a Donna Summer 1979 fucking disco, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeese fucking cunt Louise, and W—O—W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAA!

EVERY MOTHER FUCKING COCK EATING DAY, these noisy dirt bag neighbors ARE DRIVING ME NUTS AT THE FUCKING SPEED OF LIGHT CUBED, PUBLIC HOUSING ASS AUTHORITY, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ALL MIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!

This is totally REDICULOUS, MACK KAITER of Northeast freaking ass Maryland of 1967; cut me a break Margie Leo!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCC:

OPEN COMMAND ON MY VOICE PRINT PLEASE,

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, YOU WILL HEAR THE A/B TONES ON LONG VOWEL SOUND EEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

GO TO ALL ORDERS AND ALL TECKS, UNDER A MAJOR FUCKING PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, ‘A’ TO ‘B’, HERE WE GO MAGGIE NOT MAY, RODNEY-71, YO, AND EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, AND S-T-O-P!

Holy fucking ass Toledo, pillow talking Daddy. If this shit does not FUCKING CUNT BACK THE FUCKING SHIT OFF OF ME, SOMEBODY OUT FUCKING HERE, YO YO YO YO YO, I AM GOING TO TELL EVERYTHING ABOUT THE BATTLESHIP ELDRIDGE AND EINSTEIN AND MY CUNT EATING FATHER, ALL OF IT, NOTHING LEFT OUT, THE WHOLE FUCKING SMACK, NASA ASTRONAUTS, SO THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN SOMEWHAT FUCKING POLITELY INFORMED, TOMMY ROE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, IGNORE THIS AT YOUR OWN PERILL, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NOW TWERMINATE THIS TWANSMISSION, MISTER WARNER AND MISTER WARNER, WHAAAAAAAAAA-BIT!!!!!!!

NIGHTY NIGHT EVERYONE, AND I HAVE THE ‘AEB’, YO.

This cunt lapping ‘cunt phlegm rapes’ (compensates) for fucking ass eleven eleven on the computer fucking clock, you son of a dam ass bitch rotten unlucky minus seven!!!!!

55555555555555555555555555555555555.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

ABSOLUTE NEWEST UPDATED MORIANITY PART FIVE, ADDITION AT END OF BLOGS:

I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED READING THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 57,

ONLY IT IS DOUBTFUL THAT YOU DID WITH ALL OF MY DAM ROTTEN PROFANITY. SO SORRY, OH WELL, MAYBE TOMORROW WILL BE BETTER, GARY-7 AND OTHERS, THEN AGAIN, MAYBE YOU WON’T STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TAKEN ME TO THE WEEDS!

SHARKEY SAYS: Maybe it’s time to bite somebody’s fucking balls the Christ off, just when arrogant slobs are not looking for me, there I AM, popping up all over the dam fucking shoreline, YO, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! DIS SOMEBODY SAY ”WOW”????????????????????????????

ABSOLUTE NEWEST UPDATED MORIANITY PART FIVE, ADDITION AT END OF BLOGS:

READ ON, SHAKESPEARE MACBETH. Hyperspace effects my ass, Walter; I am not the fucking moron you all think that I am, ya’ rotten no good EW pricks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TEE-HEE.

I HOPE THAT YOU ARE ENJOYING THE READING OF THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00056. Tonight however, most will not be 2 happy with my rotten behavior, sorry about that Chief of 86.

NUMEROUS ITEMS ARE CAPPED IN, FOR THOSE WHO MAY BE INTERESTED, AS WELL AS FOR ANY NEW VIEWERS.

THIS IS MORIANITY, PART FIVE. PLEASE HAVE A VERY NICE DAY.

CHAPTER 00057, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

I talk a lot about my copyrighted music, so here it is, folks.

United States Copyright Office

HelpNew SearchSearch HistoryStart Over

——————————————————————————–

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Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

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Resort results by: Full Title Name Date (ascending) Date (descending)

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Name (NALL) <

Full Title

Copyright Number

Date

[ 1 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

For the record.

PAu000662409

1984

[ 2 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

I'm Criana.

PAu000724397

1985

[ 3 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.

PAu003351785

2007

[ 4 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Last number repeat–100 progression roulette system.

TXu000514390

1992

[ 5 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Lost love.

PAu000344219

1981

[ 6 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr demo collection, set 4.

PAu000546149

1983

[ 7 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr demo collection : set III.

PAu000442785

1982

[ 8 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr demo tunes.

PAu000325091

1981

[ 9 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Mohr tunes.

PAu000411864

1982

[ 10 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Queen of blue.

PAu000825471

1986

[ 11 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Real good girl.

PAu000881543

1986

[ 12 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.

PAu002506106

2000

[ 13 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Saga of song writer Mark Mud.

PAu000501582

1983

[ 14 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

PAu002153196

1996

[ 15 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

SRu000332786

1996

[ 16 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah Callio of ACNJ.

SRu000362114

1997

[ 17 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Uncle.

PAu000540585

1983

[ 18 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

What's wrong?

PAu000724407

1984

[ 19 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

You call this music?

PAu000998574

1987

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

[ 22 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.

PAu000204017

1980

[ 23 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.

PAu000204015

1980

[ 24 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Morianity music pre-book.

PAu002336935

1998

[ 25 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Morianity tunes of 1998.

PAu002282717

1998

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United States Copyright Office

HelpNew SearchSearch HistoryStart Over

——————————————————————————–

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Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

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[ 26 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.

PAu000204016

1980

[ 27 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Same title.

PAu003037983

2005

[ 28 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Thanx to the shadows.

PAu002237985

1997

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WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO?

WWYWINY, MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

Well, yesterday was another thing that never got mentioned. It was my PCNLD or (Private Cosmicoded Number Lottery Day). This is twice that the Florida 3-Pick Lottery, matched my PCN of '871', and I thought for sure by now that CUZZ DON's number would pop in, also Frank Callio's, also MC's, after-all, there are only 81 PCN's folks, and nearly four million peeps in America have each one of them, simple math folks, 81 times four-mill is equal to the rough guess US Census counted population in the 2010 count, WHAAAA! Well without any weed sucking, or changing places, or role reversals, or audience competing; let me move this along and quit with the dam tangents already, yikes, YO! Now do you see why my kid scares me to death, Pam? I know what she is capable of, and I am just trying now to appease her wrath until my 18 and out. I see this human life of mine as none other than a total fucking prison sentence, and make no bones about it, nor do I act shy about printing it up publicly, Mister Graham, 'TEE HEE HEE', oh Lilly. Where Are You When I Need You, ED, not you, Mister Himacane Lynch?

Oh yes, WAYWINY, and then in past tents, it would become, where were you when I needed you, right Sam Walton, another December 7, 1941 day for me, President Roosevelt. These initials change into WWYWINY, and need and needed both start with the 'N' word, no, not that ugly other 'N' word. You have no idea what fight I would have put up for custody of you, MI, if I had known, but two moms conspiring against it, forget it. Where was all your role reversal stuff when it might have done the most good, I could ask you, oh great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, my endless wonderful Goddess?

Well, it is now in the eighties officially, at 2:09, according to the channel-12 app on my computer. At least it is nothing like the past couple of years where by the end of April it was either high eighties or into the nineties by 12-3 in the afternoon, every dam day. Folks forget stuff, I do not know how they live so controlled and so totally ETOSS-HACKED. When I get the occasional hit by these pricks, I remember those times and can count them on both my hands and that is it, and it is always something that pertains to my great swimmer daughter. I still was scared she was going to drown, but learned some really powerful lessons in the process, me that is, not her. She is all mighty, and needs not learn anything, other than my brain is a worthless pile of junk circuits, confusing the address of the Philadelphia Zoo, with where the great Manhattan ES Building is. It is on 34th Street, but not Poplar. What's happening to my nutty mind, Mayor Nutter, and little girl on the TV ad, WHAAAAA? No one knows how real it is to be ETTOS attacked by this powerful family. The day McGuire leaves us all in peace, I will be out surf and turfing, if I have to borrow the money from the dam mob. That's a promise, lovely Re-max Mo, and WOMO as well, Karen Simons. Thanks, traitor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. No, I won't brand you, for old times sake. Laugh time, McNulty!

The last really bad 4 days went as follows on my systems-roulette by the way, good folks. Yesterday I made 7 units. The three other recent bad days were plus 4, plus 1, and plus 5 and a half, TEE HEE HEE, MZ. MUNSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to hate your old pal too much, Congressman Andrews, and remember the good times YO, in 1975, even the time you refused to give me a lift home that evening after 9 P, down at Pileggi's basement, or 'whatever'. You had the coolest stereo, and the coolest girl, Angel. Was she perfect or more like my daughter?

Hay Gawky Gaukauk, here kitty, why has the fucking dick licking persecution over the past ten days or so gotten so bad again with my across the fucking hallway nabes, YO YO YO??????????????????????????

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-682.

TALL GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH—-PROJECT BLUEBOOK—-CANCER—-QUEENS—-MOVING—-THE MORNING LIGHT—-BEAVER—-PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING MACHINE—-TWENTY——————————

HAY GAWKY GAUKAUK, HERE KITTY, ALL THREE TIMES IN MY LIFE, IN 1977, 1983, AND 1986, WHEN I TRIED TO MAKE A LITTLE MORE MONEY THAN IN OTHER TIMES EVER IN MY LIFE, AND SUCCEEDED, I WAS ASSAULTED TWICE PHYSICALLY TO THE NEAR POINT OF DEATH, AND THE FINAL TIME, THE DEATH OF MY ENTIRE LIFE RESULTED AND HAS BEEN THE CASE EVER FUCKING SINCE THAT TIME IN 1986?

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-853.

1954—-36th avenue—-stingray————-

LIKE FUCKING W—-O—-W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy Hannah-88, can I please be forgiven for my last fucking lifetime folks? Thank fucking you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is Herbert Huntington, Ancestry dot com, crissake YO? Please do not darken my shadowy dark doorstep ever again; and no more hunting trips for your dam son, and his pal McGee's pop. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!! Double-triple fucking WOW, YO.

As always, we could dance all night, and I could talk all day, but no new fucking songs pweeeeeeeze. The current one has me in enough hot water to put the water-heater peeps permanently out of fucking ass business, YO County Jail caller. Yes MC, I did re-listen, before your 5th cuzz 3 times removed, stole the CD, and all your stuff from my bedroom. I know the horrible stuff you were letting me see, and thanks for not offing me. I make you the very same promise now, I made to Sarah Callio, your 4th-7TR. I will as of this blog, leave you entirely out of this. I always loved that wild show with the two continuum's, and how the dude killed himself. That was talent, girl. Well, I'll keep my promise to you. Also, in return, you keep the chain, and no more dreams; not ever, do we have a deal oh great Sarah Krassle??????????????? Only we know what's getting said here, the old shark knows what you tried to tell me. I always loved those kind of sci-fi shows, only this time it's my real life, and that really sucks.

You enjoy your great VR-GAME, it belongs to you, and I had no right to ever try and expose its truths, or yours; just don't make me swim down to the weeds forever, please, my great GODDESS QUEEN, thank you. Ask your CUZZ SARAH if I kept my promise, other than for the one quick time, when I just wanted to show the great artist Billy Harner, her water company.

555555555555555555555555555

COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983, ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE THEN, “GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, & NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF

“YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”

VERSE ONE

I'm so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new

Let me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few

Oh my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew

We're down and out, and we will even go to work for you

You seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two

I am so weak and faint and do not wanna' be so blue

While we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe

Oh please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you

We'll help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew

But greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say

I've been working hard out in the sun all day

And I'm not giving any freaking fish away

VERSE TWO

So when you add your salty tears directly in the sea

And when you're done your song of woe, that you have sung to me

Just take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty

And right into the undertow, and stop annoying me

And talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish

You loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch

I have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled

So either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed

Guys like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled

People say I'm cold and cruel, on every single day

But I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay

So I'm not giving any of my fish away

VERSE THREE

They say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand

And mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand

Storms blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died

The sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried

And on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned

Ignoring waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound

Just another bucket and, then he'll have caught his fill

A lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill

The king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again

Yet locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben

I've been working hard out in the sun all day

So yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay

And I'm not giving any of my fish away

VERSE FOUR

You'll be crossing over, later wishing you'd been nicer

You'll be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer

You'll be crossing over, hearing all the trash they're talking

You'll be crossing over, and you'll have to keep on walking

You'll be crossing over, watching all the others eating

Feasts with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating

Forever seeing many fish, but never on your plate

You had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate

You'll be crossing over, and you'll be a lonesome rover

Forever doomed to hear the words you always used to say

That you've been working hard out in the sun all day

Oh yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay

So you're not giving any of your fish away

END OF SONG.

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983

NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:

Only the opening title words are real.

To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO. If you do not like techno-pop music of the early and middle nineteen-eighties, there are other songs at the same site, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so go there and have a blast. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Without clicking, yesterdays can just be scroll viewed!

Folks, I have no time to tell you the whole thing, it would take a hundred mother fucking years, and when all is said and done and your great grand kids finish reading it, they and you, won't give a hoot pollute blasted dam anyway, who's kidding who? Still, I will say a few quick things, and no force on this Earth is going to fucking stop me from that.

First, a few hours ago, I was cooking a fucking steak and spaghetti meal in my kitchen, when the IF scumbags thought pulling a cute little Leprechaun prank on me would be nice and Roseann Delaney fucking funny, the mother fucking rotten bastards!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A small roach appeared near an opened can of spaghetti sauce. This was simply to get me to reach over to kill this menacing germy little shit, forgetting about the can with a half opened up lid; and 'shazam', Gomer Pyle USMC, and 'goollllleeey', Sargent fucking cunt Carter, Mary Paints McVeigh; if I did not practically take my cunt eating left index finger right off. Go away, Roseann Tressa Backtowork Minicoffin Nightmares! But those that know about the American Appliances Refrigerators back when this entire August 15, 1986 thing all got started, also know that I cut all of my toes off at Mars graphics Printing Shop in 1977, and in two months, they all grew back. I thought all toes grew back, and was told later by some dick head, it was a miracle and I should tell the Vatican. Bullshit on the Vatican, enough fucking cock suckers are watching me like hawks and buzzards, huh Apollo-Lucifer and lovely sister D?

What some may wish to be made aware of who read Morianity, is thisssssssssss, Miss Erica Lucci snakes of 1983, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! If you were the only one alive on this Earth, pretend you are lost and leaving endless bread crumbs behind you, only instead of breadcrumbs, it is an endless ball of thin colorful twine. Now as time passes, and you move all around, in and out of buildings and homes and down streets and into all kinds of places, this past record will follow behind you. Now bringing the cold reality back, we are not alone, and so our fellow creatures also do this very same thing, and also are leaving this endless twine string behind them no matter where they go, and when, forever and always. Now instead of 20 or so basic prime and second colors, pretend we have sight capable of focusing at solar surface brilliance, so billions of separate coloring shades would now be possible. Each one would have their own unique color. Now imagine the interaction of all of us, not us, but this twine after a week, after a month, a year, 5, 10, and so on. Now take shit one more step still good folks. Remove the US, just see this endless intertwining weaving cosmic interaction. Now, you are ready to be told, that this is what produces a force called the IF, and NOT the fucking other way around, ladies and gentlemen, and whoever else is out here, so say it, YO; WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So where are my trucks, TD?

It is 4:40 AM-EDST, 25 April, 2013, on Thursday morning.

Now the rest of the topic for this blog is about the invention of these early eighties personal computers, AKA PC's. First, this jerk fucking off nabe across the cunt eating hallway from me IS PART OF THIS BUILDING CONSPIRACY WITH THE COMPUTER DELL GUY, and is why I was unable to secure any help from him, other than to get a mind blowing course one night from him about the real WOMO (World-Owners) and that would be none other than MICROSOFT CORPORATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All others follow in close seconds or thirds, obediently wagging their tails behind them; and keeping their heads down, and their yes sir yelps endlessly strong, loud, and coming. Continue please, you are reading the section in Morianity for Millennium 3, Chapter #5.

Let us talk about these PC's, and how this all fits and connects with me, while bearing in mind the entire time, the little lesson in weaving and looms and our great great grandma's sowing habits, brought into the real next generation. First off, without even touching anything around this little quick next few sentences, let me just say the shit I feel compelled to say, and get it the fuck out of the way and over with, YO!

If I could wake up by some Irish Leprechaun Magic, (ILM) can be used after this point as a short abbreviation for this three word phrase; and be a total computer geek black hat cracker hacker, or on that level without doing anything illegal or immoral, with what I need in my personal life situation, don't be shy along with me world, as you know I would use this to my advantage, keeping it as legal and moral as is humanly possible, but when the road gets real tough here and there, with all the chips down underneath the surface of the gaming table, and the skies are all gray and bleak and black and dark; well, let us not get silly here, or try and fool ourselves. I would use this and I would make the MILITUFORCE really PAY for what has been done to me, and would still quite naturally, be being done to me at any so-called point of future STM. So the quintessential DUH is of course THEY are not going to make it real ass super easy for me to reach that computer savvy stage and point. It really again, as the great Toronto Bank of WOW says on their really cool TV ad spots, “It isn't rocket science”, and I'll gladly throw in here, “We do not need your services, Subaru Vonbrahn. I have tried to spell this dude's name 10 ways back from Sunday, and as usual, MSC is no help at all! Any celebrated last name spelled as it is sounded out, should be recognized with groups of words with one being the correct spelling. Yes, gear shift, no grind, these scum over there have been in and out all night, 1,2,3,4,5 in the morning, even now at nearly fucking half past, and Friday, I am telling Debbie that I will write a letter to whoever runs this building, as this is fucking bullshit, not 'cigarette butt bullcarp'. Yes it is amazing how very inexpensive items can serve as a spy stethoscope, placed on my door, and listened to through my headphones on my bed any time I wish. I am a very paranoid person, it is only a matter of time before I will know a lot more. The entire put together item cost me under 15 bucks, and is a great investment, as I need to know what goes on with ENEMIES. If folks would not harass and persecute me, I would never think of doing things like fucking this. I had to take a break, and go on, what David Roth used to call, late in the nineteen-eighties; a 'Crampana Shit Attack', only his main one that I'll always clearly remember, he also called the Dark Shitholes Attack, as he actually had the balls after being hit with a WOMO death beam at the Westmont, New Jersey High Speed-Line Train Station; to use the back yard woods, behind Roseann Delaney's home, in Haddonfield, New Jersey; to keep from browning out in his Bermuda shorts; TEE HEE HEE, Lilly M. Things like this do not happen with consistency and regularity to normal average healthy grown men, such as myself and David. So what else can the explanation be? I am surely not making up this story. Would I be proud to say I am always getting horrible fucking shit attacks, and not always properly making it to a facility, over the past 27 fucking cunt years? Give me a break, Margie Leo, 4 freaking crissake. Let us return now to the original topic of the personal computer and me, and our twining interaction. If I could do all the things I'd like to be able to do with them, my enemies would be in very serious trouble, until they came over covertly and stealthfully, and did a Marie Fahey on me, in the name of domestic enemy terror, and the Patriot Act; or some other total nonsense mother fucking garbage that if you added three dollars to, would get you a dozen shinny quarters; and that's all it would get you, YO!!!!!! If this was a fair world, I could sue the fucking FBI for breaking intentionally, all of my legally paid for and totally owned, electronic equipment, back early in this century, while I lived at the Mullica Mobile Manor, just east of fucking cock sucking Hammonton, Blu-Berryville, in New Green-Garden State Jersey, let me get off this blog beach for now, GOV, and return to the topic of PC's and me!!!!!!!!!!!! No, they don't show this dirty part of the FISA shit, on the great L&O TV show, but in real-life, they break your stuff, after all; what the fuck can you do about it, complain; and almost get locked up, by the fucking worthless Mullica Township Cops, back that day? Whaju say Dawn and Dad, SHEEEEEEEEEIT!

Now these fucking miserable jerk off nabes of mine, come into their unit after visiting with this asshole on my floor with the computer, who knocked on my door that day on 12/18/2012, when I had Dennis Chase over here from the local Publix, posting my 'YBCO' harmony track tune, to my Youtube account, at http://youtube/paulaking2011/ BRO!

I know they all are friends, and constantly visit with each other, and conspire to fuck with me, both with my not getting any computer help, remember the story the resident manager of my building told me about Tom being bored with nothing to do, only he tells me that he's too fucking busy to aid me with my PC? Oh yeah, right, sure, shore, most definitely makes total sense, and it does, and I am not being fucking facetious, as it makes complete 100% sense. It is a plot to keep me fucked, fucked, fucked, and FUCKED!!!!!!!! Those that won't see my story is all real and true, SIMPLY DO NOT WANT IT TO BE TRUE. AFTER ALL, IT MIGHT JUST TOUCH THEM, OR SOMEBODY WHO THEY LOVE, IF IT IS TRUE; and that is not within their mother fucking comfy cozy zones, but is totally within the zone of the GWPOS, or Giant Williamstown Police Officer Syndrome, that I have told over and over about an incident that happened in the middle fucking nineties. WHAAAAAAA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MMCN!

Folks, I went on a real roll for two fire alarms every day, along with the nabes back on a roll, simultaneously, and one time was definitely set off by them, as they were talking to the FD and saying, as I told all ready on a prior blog, This is bull crap, it is just smoldering cigarette butts. I merely spelled all of the words correctly on this dam blog, BRAH!

The first two thirds of the year of 2008, in its own way was bigger than the same time period in 1986, 22 years earlier. Studying my blogs or archiving them at the website at BLOGGER, using this address: http://drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ or http://theansweristheqyuestion.blogspot.com/

will reveal powerful beyond wild and unfathomable shit. You can see how the entire MENTALIST show was created from this blog, you can see Jason Forrest's comment, accidentally posted in haste I suppose, on my blog by him, saying how this blog, meaning MY BLOG, is where he made a lot of money in Cali, to quote him exactly, and so much more. The real power is two things this time, unlike in 1986. first, all of the 1986 records are conveniently lost now, thanks to a wonderful star family, and second, this is more of a recent group of events. All of my original life journal on cassette tape is gone forever, unlike my blogs posted at BLOGGER, as well as other websites for bloggers, during these incredible times of cosmic proportions. Also, unlike the first time, I know so much more than I did back then, more things, more players in the cosmic colorful weaving system, and more aware living witnesses to force in court if ever taken that far, that will either tell some powerful truths under fucking ass oath, or commit perjury to keep many gargantuan secrets. Just yesterday, as it is now 5:55 AM-EDST, a very beautiful two minute period each and every 24 hour cycle or 'day', on this April 25, 2013; I was playing around with the WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE. For no reason about two months or so ago, give or take a month, one day, I went to paste in my blogs typed from my word office 3.1 system, and unlike before, both WordPress and Blogger sites, no longer pasted it in, as it appeared on the office document, on my PC. However, the BLOGGER software, compensates somehow, and places the format back into the way I had it on my own PC Office System Program, or 3.1 Open Office. I keep hoping for WORDPRESS to install the similar software, but I have come to see their game. I think if I am willing to pony up a nominal 25 dollar fee each year, not bad at all; they will give me a real domain, so I plan to do this; as long as I can post up my songs, my blogs, my photographs, and stuff the way I do at the Blogger site, and have it all work; links, all of it. If this was $25 per month, I could not afford it, but 2 dollars and change, per month is reasonable enough for me to say yes, and agree to this 'dot me' thing. Hay, like the fucking lady at 1101 Robin Hill Apartments, when I was next door to her, in late 1983, and into 1984; at 1102 Apartment number; said to me through the door that afternoon early in 1984, “It's ME”, and later on, I had a powerful dream where she forced me onto the roof of the building, and gave me excruciating pain by some magical power, that blows me away every time to this day, that I so much as remember that 'dream' for even a tiny little fucking second. In the dream she again reiterated only slightly varying her words spoken through my door in waking life or in this universe; I AM A 'ME', and this wild shit was all written down in my 'so-called' fictional 1994 book, copyrighted in WASH-DOC-600-13, called, “The Permission Barrier”. In waking life she said something equally awesome and outlandish to me through my dam door. She said I need to know something, and that if I do not open the door, and let her come in and tell me; I will regret it for the rest of my life. Is anyone reading this, seeing this word yet, 'WOW'?

A very beautiful full moon is shinning out there above me, 99% full and still waxing, becoming full at around noon today. I LOVE YOU BEAUTIFUL LUNA, MY SPECIAL BABY BLOND, AND MY WONDERFUL AND AWSOME LIGHTNING GODDESS DIANA ARTEEMIS, AND I'LL NEVER EVER LET YOU GO, NOT FOREVER AND FOREVER AND FOREVER, MY ENDLESS LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 657 and 123, but does that equal 1984 or 1983, or even the mighty all seeing Mister fiction book author Orwell???????????????? Where does 'megawater' fit into this, and for that matter the great 'SUNRAM'? This is what all came flooding back to me, in early 1996, under intense psycho-therapy hypnotism; at the Wolf Clinic, on Main Street, in Moorestown, NJ, right next to REMOMAX. Wow, Mike Sotas. Bad news, you're no competition with Super-Girl Keisha. So bring those fire engines roaring, OTAMM-MILI-2-FORCE, WEEEEEEEEEEE. Still with all of this said, the entire interaction of all of the twine all over the world, creates the IF (Interaction Force), and within that force, is the very gun powder that is needed to work the magic of what I have spoken rarely about over nearly seven and a half years of my blogging now, “REALITY-THREE”. We will get real deep into Reality-3, very very soon.

Diana, I saw your wonderful moon on the Jupiter Cam, all orange and lovely and creamy-dreamy, my endless love. I am your little boy forever and ever, baby-blond; and will be with you very soon, lovely one. IWALU, BB (baby-blond)!!!!!!!!!!!!

December 12, 2006

More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.

This is merely a harmony track, I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.

Mark_from_njAt the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations.

Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life." The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title. He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane. Completely, violently insane.

Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David. His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in. Covertly, of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil. (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.)

Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:

Interdimensional Technology (MP3) Android & Angel (MP3) 12th Planet (MP3)

If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U? Signed, da' Mountainpen.

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 11:09 PM No comments:
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About Me

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THIS IS THE WAY YOU SEE MY BLOGS WHEN NOT AT BLOGGER DOT COM, YO

1:08 PM-EDST, 24 APRIL, 2013, WEDNESDAY HELL & SHIT

I HOPE YOU NOW ENJOY READING THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00054.

Sharkey says, “I hate living in Public noisy ass Housing. The ocean is a lot nicer for me, tee-hee-hee, Lilly Munster”.

Every day this week and last week, my nabes love to shout and bang doors, and are around a lot more recently than they were for a while. It takes me time, but I get used to these butt wipes, not that it ever will be a day at the beach, and not that my days at the beach are anything too far removed from rotten and hellish, here with the robbery last year, and back in fucking Atlantic City, with everything from giant girl gang attacks to just you name it and was more like what wasn’t fucking around with me, in that fucking miserable and rotten place?

My health and bowels were stuck while sleeping. I will shit my guts out soon, and then take some Metamucil meds to compensate for the MILITUFORCE overnight attack. These scum blew up my airship while I was what all of you call, DREAMING. I wanted to blow them up and then come onto the mortal world, clocked in and invisible; and strike enemy targets here, as I do quite often. When upon occasion my cloak of invisibility dicks out, you have all seen me from time to time, along with others of us from the Astral Plane. Diana told me she wants me to say something on my blogs, so I will, before this is all typed up, as I never disobey my wonderful beautiful GODDESS. The dirt bag enemies have me running around in circles like a blind and decapitated mother fucking chicken, these recent fucking days. As a result, I did not say all I wanted to on my previous blog, M5, CH. 00053. So 54 will now do the talking for me. It is a nice 79 degrees right now in good old fucking cock sucking Port Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG. (United States of America-Planet Earth, System of Sol, Milky Way Galaxy). It has been only low eighties each day, so there’s one rotten ass fucking plus out of things at least, Warner Brothers, WHAAAAAAA!
Well no, that’s not all folks, and how we all loved their great cartoons as kids, but it seems that many have decided in the new generation X-Y-Z or in this range, that growing up, and even growing normally in time with grace, is some kind of new age sin, with this very demented and delusional mindset, owned and patented by the Hollywood MIND CONTROLLERS, of forever young or else Briggbase Cultists, and the Mortal World (MW) has their own name for this waking world cult. I loved my time, and most like me who refuse to use a cell phone, or join this Third Millennium, simply fade away, and don’t. Well, I AM ALREADY in a condition-interaction where HELL swallows up any possibility of RELEASE or DEATH, so LSS, the quintessential rock and hard place, places me just south of the rock, and natch, just north of the hard place. This is one hell of a proverbial mother fucking squeeze, folks. But let us move along now with yesterday after I left the apartment to do a little bit of freaking shopping. I mistakenly said things reversed, so sorry, Mister Ambassador Bombpearl of 1941. Let me finish up the old topic with the fact that this illegal scum ball is back living here across from me, and with that snubby ugly woman, and her totally evil nasty, and raised by total pigs dude; who cares zero for disturbing his closest fucking neighbor, ME, Amanda!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was punished for trying to get help from the Dell guy, not the Dell “gut”, typo sorry, the keys are together on the keyboard, you know, the ‘Y’ and the ‘T’, then the West side Fort Pierce Library back eight days ago, and it is every and any time that I ever try and do anything, especially music related. It is not TD or rocket science or the President of the Wow-Truck Refusals Club, just as the TV ad spot says, good common ass sense, YO. Music for some of the lucky folks, makes enormous amounts of money, and the chosen to be cursed HUNTINGTON, say it again gorgeous little Amanda, is not permitted to ever have ANYTHING AT ALL, to keep perpetuating this ‘family game’, as it goes back more than ten fucking thousand years, and before that; only the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE; really knows in full detail. The three times that I was about to break out of this lack of money curse, I was nearly killed twice physically, 1977 at the Mars Graphics Print Shop in Westville, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and in 1983, making money playing roulette in Atlantic City, at the casinos. First my heart, then my throat. Then separated again by increments of three in years, single blocks or double, as in 1977, 1983, and 1986, and as you can see here, there is a strange three year run, beginning in 1977; but yes, we cannot ever forget or ignore the DANGER-THIRD LAKE, AKA HB in my speculation, but not remembering that road trip up there with my Great Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald, and her two grandchildren, Christopher and Scotty Meyers, on the day of the dog-walking, and other things, huh Re-max Reality; but speaking of all of this, we also cannot forget or ignore, good old wonderful lovely sarcastic 1986, AHA AHA AHA AHA MMCN!!!!! This is when I could make all the money I wanted to at the casinos, and again, was punished and stopped; and just how was this done? did anyone ever really wonder why these shadows came to dwell in the bright daylight? I will tell you, but first folks, here is yesterday, now written today, on the diary of Beaver Cleaver-2, AKA Morianity-Part-5, with no stray cats, no school, and to keep lovely Diana Brewster happy, “No nothing”. Does this meet with your all mighty highness approval, oh great owner of the world, Oprah Lose Bond?

I went to the ‘Good Will’ and then to the ‘Publix’ stores, not the other way around. Why would I, as the ice cream would melt if I did not get that last, like DUH and color me anything you want, and don’t be my buddy, ANN. See if I care, or even get arrested over it, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It was upon coming out of the Publix Grocery Store at the mini-mall at Virginia and Route 1, that that same aircraft that has dogged me since this all began in 1986, the very exact same one, was up there while I was putting my grocery bags into my vehicle. It used to circle and orbit, literally orbit my Blue Anchor home on summer months, all mother fucking day long. It is way up in the sky and it makes the loudest mother fucking cunt lapping noise you could possibly ever fucking imagine. They let you know, “Boy are we fucking watching you, ya little fucking jit bag prick”, there really is no mistake in their signal, right ADS? When I got home, the apartment was quieter, the main noise at least over the past ten days or so now is from 9 in the morning through 6 in the evening. Then it gets better from 6P through 9A. Oh well, let the quieter quitter bay-fish, move this right along here and do some clutch work, or else; grind grind grind, without any 1994 beaches, or joining outlandish bizarre swimming clubs on 27 June, or other paranormal paraphernalia such as AEB’s, right Mister Prosecutor, Ron Wirtz, my old pal????????????????????????????? Ron, kind sir, to this day, I wonder why I do not smash that thing down hard and get it all over with for all of us. Well, no favors for this human race. That would be way too good for them after all they’ve fucking ass done to me, no favors, baby-love, NONE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, yesterday was another thing that never got mentioned. It was my PCNLD or (Private Cosmicoded Number Lottery Day). This is twice that the Florida 3-Pick Lottery, matched my PCN of ‘871’, and I thought for sure by now that CUZZ DON’s number would pop in, also Frank Callio’s, also MC’s, after-all, there are only 81 PCN’s folks, and nearly four million peeps in America have each one of them, simple math folks, 81 times four-mill is equal to the rough guess US Census counted population in the 2010 count, WHAAAA! Well without any weed sucking, or changing places, or role reversals, or audience competing; let me move this along and quit with the dam tangents already, yikes, YO! Now do you see why my kid scares me to death, Pam? I know what she is capable of, and I am just trying now to appease her wrath until my 18 and out. I see this human life of mine as none other than a total fucking prison sentence, and make no bones about it, nor do I act shy about printing it up publicly, Mister Graham, ‘TEE HEE HEE’, oh Lilly. Where Are You When I Need You, ED, not you, Mister Himacane Lynch?
Oh yes, WAYWINY, and then in past tents, it would become, where were you when I needed you, right Sam Walton, another December 7, 1941 day for me, President Roosevelt. These initials change into WWYWINY, and need and needed both start with the ‘N’ word, no, not that ugly other ‘N’ word. You have no idea what fight I would have put up for custody of you, MI, if I had known, but two moms conspiring against it, forget it. Where was all your role reversal stuff when it might have done the most good, I could ask you, oh great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, my endless wonderful Goddess?

Well, it is now in the eighties officially, at 2:09, according to the channel-12 app on my computer. At least it is nothing like the past couple of years where by the end of April it was either high eighties or into the nineties by 12-3 in the afternoon, every dam day. Folks forget stuff, I do not know how they live so controlled and so totally ETOSS-HACKED. When I get the occasional hit by these pricks, I remember those times and can count them on both my hands and that is it, and it always something that pertains to my great swimmer daughter. I still was scared she was going to drown, but learned some really powerful lessons in the process, me that is, not her. She is all mighty, and needs not learn anything, other than my brain is a worthless pile of junk circuits, confusing the address of the Philadelphia Zoo, with where the great Manhattan ES Building is. It is on 34th Street, but not Poplar. What’s happening to my nutty mind, Mayor Nutter, and little girl on the TV ad, WHAAAAA? No one knows how real it is to be ETTOS attacked by this powerful family. The day McGuire leaves us all in peace, I will be out surf and turfing, if I have to borrow the money from the dam mob. That’s a promise, lovely Re-max Mo, and WOMO as well, Karen Simons. Thanks, traitor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. No, I won’t brand you, for old times sake. Laugh time, McNulty!
The last really bad 4 days went as follows on my systems-roulette by the way, good folks. Yesterday I made 7 units. The three other recent bad days were plus 4, plus 1, and plus 5 and a half, TEE HEE HEE, MZ. MUNSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to hate your old pal too much, Congressman Andrews, and remember the good times YO, in 1975, even the time you refused to give me a lift home that evening after 9 P, down at Pileggi’s basement, or ‘whatever’. You had the coolest stereo, and the coolest girl, Angel. Was she perfect or more like my daughter?

Hay Gawky Gaukauk, here kitty, why has the fucking dick licking persecution over the past ten days or so gotten so bad again with my across the fucking hallway nabes, YO YO YO??????????????????????????

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-682.

TALL GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH—-PROJECT BLUEBOOK—-CANCER—-QUEENS—-MOVING—-THE MORNING LIGHT—-BEAVER—-PANASONIC OPEN REEL MASTERING MACHINE—-TWENTY——————————

HAY GAWKY GAUKAUK, HERE KITTY, ALL THREE TIMES IN MY LIFE, IN 1977, 1983, AND 1986, WHEN I TRIED TO MAKE A LITTLE MORE MONEY THAN IN OTHER TIMES EVER IN MY LIFE, AND SUCCEEDED, I WAS ASSAULTED TWICE PHYSICALLY TO THE NEAR POINT OF DEATH, AND THE FINAL TIME, THE DEATH OF MY ENTIRE LIFE RESULTED AND HAS BEEN THE CASE EVER FUCKING SINCE THAT TIME IN 1986?

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, SHARKEY MARKEY, PCN-853.

1954—-36th avenue—-stingray————-

LIKE FUCKING W—-O—-W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy Hannah-88, can I please be forgiven for my last fucking lifetime folks? Thank fucking you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is Herbert Huntington, Ancestry dot com, crissake YO, please do not darken my shadowy dark doorstep ever again; and no more hunting trips for your dam son and his pal McGee’s pop. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!! Double-triple fucking WOW, YO.

As always, we could dance all night, and I could talk all day, but no new fucking songs pweeeeeeeze. The current one has me in enough hot water to put the water-heater peeps permanently out of fucking ass business, YO County Jail caller. Yes MC, I did re-listen, before your 5th cuzz 3 times removed, stole the CD, and all your stuff from my bedroom. I know the horrible stuff you were letting me see, and thanks for not offing me. I make you the very same promise now, I made to Sarah Callio, your 4th-7TR. I will as of this blog, leave you entirely out of this. I always loved that wild show with the two continuum’s, and how the dude killed himself. That was talent, girl. Well, I’ll keep my promise to you. Also, in return, you keep the chain, and no more dreams; not ever, do we have a deal oh great Sarah Krassle??????????????? Only we know what’s getting said here, the old shark knows what you tried to tell me. I always loved those kind of sci-fi shows, only this time it’s my real life, and that really sucks.
You enjoy your great VR-GAME, it belongs to you, and I had no right to ever try and expose its truths, or yours; just don’t make me swim down to the weeds forever, please, my great GODDESS QUEEN, thank you. Ask your CUZZ SARAH if I kept my promise, other than for the one quick time, when I just wanted to show the great artist Billy Harner, her water company.

555555555555555555555555555

THAT FUCKING COMPENSATES FOR THAT GOD DAM PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN BULL FUCKING SHIT. LET ME NOW TYPE BIG, AND WASTE THE PAGE; SORT OF LIKE IN FUCKING JESSICA’S GREAT FOOTBALL GAMES. I NEED TO RUN OUT THE DAM CLOCK NOW, OR ELSE I WILL BE STARING AT THESE FOUR FUCKING ONE NUMBERS FOREVER, AND THAT TOTALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOOD RIDDANCE, YO, AND AGAIN GOOD FOLKS, WEEEEEEEEEE. 55555555555555555!!!!!!

COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR 2012, REWRITE FROM 1983, ALSO COPYRIGHTED UNDER TITLE THEN, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, & NOW UNDER REWRITE TITLE OF
“YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER”

VERSE ONE

I’m so very happy for you, pales of fish so fresh and new

Let me ask you really nicely, could you spare us just a few

Oh my wife and kids are starving, could you help us make a stew

We’re down and out, and we will even go to work for you

You seem to have about a dozen giant pales or two

I am so weak and faint and do not wanna’ be so blue

While we slept inside the dunes, somebody stole my shoe

Oh please kind sir, just take some pity, let us work for you

We’ll help in any way we can, and be your loyal crew

But greedy Mister Fisherman, this is all that he would say

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

And I’m not giving any freaking fish away

VERSE TWO

So when you add your salty tears directly in the sea

And when you’re done your song of woe, that you have sung to me

Just take your wife and kids, and jump right off this big jetty

And right into the undertow, and stop annoying me

And talking on and on and on, and bothering my fish

You loud annoying bleeding hearts, that beg and cry and bitch

I have lots of work to do, and buckets must be filled

So either leave this jetty now, or someone might be killed

Guys like me must catch our fish, like farmers fields get tilled

People say I’m cold and cruel, on every single day

But I have got a lot of freaking bills to pay

So I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE THREE

They say the greatest mother lies there out beyond the sand

And mothers can get angry when their kids are out of hand

Storms blow out of nowhere and, a lot of folks have died

The sea can give and take away, while many tears get cried

And on one very special day, a greedy man was drowned

Ignoring waves that swallowed rocks with heavy pounding sound

Just another bucket and, then he’ll have caught his fill

A lot of daring fishermen forget the sea can kill

The king fish of the jetty, just was never seen again

Yet locals claim the winds still howl these words from fisher Ben

I’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

So yes I have a lot of freaking bills to pay

And I’m not giving any of my fish away

VERSE FOUR

You’ll be crossing over, later wishing you’d been nicer

You’ll be crossing over, through the quantum waving splicer

You’ll be crossing over, hearing all the trash they’re talking

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll have to keep on walking

You’ll be crossing over, watching all the others eating

Feasts with banquet tables, where the fish keep on repeating

Forever seeing many fish, but never on your plate

You had your time back in the sun before you sealed your fate

You’ll be crossing over, and you’ll be a lonesome rover

Forever doomed to hear the words you always used to say

That you’ve been working hard out in the sun all day

Oh yes we knew you had your freaking bills to pay

So you’re not giving any of your fish away

END OF SONG.

This is 100% machine created, techno-pop, sampled from the intro.

YOU’LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983

NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC TRACK ALONG WITH ARE UP AT THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, LIKE DUH:

Only the opening title words are real.

To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO. If you do not like techno-pop music of the early and middle nineteen-eighties, there are other songs at the same site, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ so go there and have a blast.

I talk a lot about my copyrighted music, so here it is, folks.

Public Catalog
Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

Resort results by:

#
Name (NALL) <
Full Title
Copyright Number
Date
[ 1 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
For the record.
PAu000662409
1984
[ 2 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
I'm Criana.
PAu000724397
1985
[ 3 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Karaoke Lunch Break At The Sorian Guard House.
PAu003351785
2007
[ 4 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Last number repeat–100 progression roulette system.
TXu000514390
1992
[ 5 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Lost love.
PAu000344219
1981
[ 6 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo collection, set 4.
PAu000546149
1983
[ 7 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo collection : set III.
PAu000442785
1982
[ 8 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr demo tunes.
PAu000325091
1981
[ 9 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Mohr tunes.
PAu000411864
1982
[ 10 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Queen of blue.
PAu000825471
1986
[ 11 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Real good girl.
PAu000881543
1986
[ 12 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Russ Walker's Star travelers of 1896-SJK.
PAu002506106
2000
[ 13 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Saga of song writer Mark Mud.
PAu000501582
1983
[ 14 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah.
PAu002153196
1996
[ 15 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah.
SRu000332786
1996
[ 16 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Sarah Callio of ACNJ.
SRu000362114
1997
[ 17 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
Uncle.
PAu000540585
1983
[ 18 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
What's wrong?
PAu000724407
1984
[ 19 ]
Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
You call this music?
PAu000998574
1987
[ 20 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.
PAu001148157
1988
[ 21 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.
PAu001189027
1989
[ 22 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Long river blues / by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204017
1980
[ 23 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Love so high / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204015
1980
[ 24 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morianity music pre-book.
PAu002336935
1998
[ 25 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morianity tunes of 1998.
PAu002282717
1998

Resort results by:

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records
Select Format:
All on Page
Selected On Page
Selected all Pages
Enter your email address:

Search for:
Search by:
Item type:

Help Search History Titles Start Over

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

Public Catalog
Copyright Catalog (1978 to present)

Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W
Search Results: Displaying 26 through 28 of 28 entries.

Resort results by:

#
Name (NALL) <
Full Title
Copyright Number
Date
[ 26 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Morning light / words & music by Mark W. Mohr ; arr. Tom Glenn.
PAu000204016
1980
[ 27 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Same title.
PAu003037983
2005
[ 28 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Thanx to the shadows.
PAu002237985
1997

Resort results by:

Save, Print and Email (Help Page)
Records
Select Format:
All on Page
Selected On Page
Selected all Pages
Enter your email address:

Search for:
Search by:
Item type:

Help Search History Titles Start Over

Contact Us | Request Copies | Get a Search Estimate | Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) about Copyright | Copyright Office Home Page | Library of Congress Home Page

WHASUP VIQUEEN MARILOO?

WHASUP STOCK BROKER GORDO?

WWYWINY, MALCALM ROSENBERG OF PHILLY, PA?

This will be the master sheet for PART 5 of MORIANITY.
You may skip through this by scrolling, any time, folks.

Jupiter, Florida welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU HAVE READ MORIANITY PART 5,
AND I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER NUMBER 00054.

Good night and pleasant dreams, Ann Reese and Bobby Witherspoon, and many many many others. I have nothing against anyone, so do not take it personally that I got off of the FACEBOOK. I have no time for childish games, I am not 16 years old forever and ever and ever. AHA AHA MMCN!
Jesus Christ, where is my talking treadmill? I've got some weight to take off, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Am I talking LOUDLY enough, lovely Ingrid?????????????????????

Yes peeps, you get a lot of advertising windshield wiper fliers down here in good old hot Fort Pierce. I have an entire library of unread crap in my back seat, no more dominating women to boss me around and control and own my car that belongs to me, not this fucking ass family of trillionaries and world owners, mostly covert, some out in the open. But still, Mister Detective Briscoe, here is a slightly new twist on windshield fliers. I was only in the library two minutes tops, and was told I could not have my lollypop, and that they could not help me with my music project. I have a medical condition and do not see how a lollypop in my mouth is going to hurt their library, Sheriff Mascara, but rules are rules, sir. When I came out, a flier was on the windshield, only it was not like the others that I get for business type bullshit of many various types. This one says, and I quote, “You better take your shitty music off the youtube, and you better not post your eighties song, or you're a dead man, ass-wipe”. I did not read it until I got to the Publix Grocery Store, as I said, normally I chuck these things unread, into the rear seat, and once a year, I take a trash bag to my car and clean out all my junk and throw it into my dumpster. But this looked very unique, it was made of a weird paper like nothing I have ever seen, as I touch it now, it is like 5 times the thickest Bond paper I've ever seen, and I've been around offices and seen real thick Bond paper. It is paper however, it is not any thin kind of cardboard or other material, as if ten sheets of paper were carefully all glued together. What next Harry Potter? Well, I was going to take my YOUTUBE account down, now I am not. I will get that song up there if I have to commit mass fucking murder to do it, folks. Take that to the TD NO-WOW-TRUCKS 4 POOR ME BANK, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO! Yes David Roth, old pal from 1985, just what are these fucking cunt eating rat bastards all so dam afraid of, about our music, and now that you are gone, spirits low or high, © Office, baby, baby, baby; MY music?????? I think the GEEK SQUAD will need to be called into service, and 4 now, E/T, and WOW!

Mark Wayne Mohr has made a lot of predictions in his life, that have not all come true, because of something known as HSE (Hyper-Space-Effect). This was discussed on earlier older blogs in Morianity. One thing that hyperspace effect has no control over or very little, is the situation that began for me in this universe, ever since waking up on August the fifteenth, back in 1986, into a parallel nightmare universe here, where I know I do not belong.

We can get into a lot more of this later. Right now, I have a question to anyone who ever viewed a blog or listened to a note of my music? Last Friday, the stock market just about hit 15,000 points, JUST AS I TOLD YOU ALL WOULD HAPPEN. I have not followed the news in a number of days, maybe a week, too busy with a lot of horrendous personal fucking bullshit, folks. MY QUESTION HOWEVER IS, AM I REALLY THE PROPHET OF 1988 NOTHING? OR, AM I, AS MY WONDERFUL OLDER KID WOULD PUT IT SO WONDERFULLY, “The greatest fish in the whole dam bay”?

I TOLD YOU THE DOW JONES WILL BE UP EVERY SINGLE DECADE BY ROUGHLY THE AMOUNT OF POINTS THAT CAN BE CALCULATED WITH A NINE DOLLAR FUCKING WALMART SUDDENLY SEEING OR HEARING CALCULATOR, AND A FEW TOUCHES OF THE BUTTONS. Simply find the percentage since this bull rally crossed over into 4 digits in early 1983, that it increases on average, each year up through around the year 2000. This is roughly 9% per year average. Now take your little calculator and keep going whatever the market was in 2000, times 109%=. The new number is your average 2001 point value. To get the 2002 value average, you take the 2001 value average, and again hit the (X) key, then hit 109, and then the percent and the equals key. To get 2003, do the same with the 2002 price, and so on. Whatever the price average between 1983 and 2000 is, I am guessing it was 9% average increased annually, this is where you can keep plotting it. It is not going to exactly show huge peaks and huge dips over 3-5 year periods that swing out beyond the average predicted low and high for the exact year, but that is how statistical mathematical equations work.

I AM QUITE SURE THAT 15,000 x 109% AND THEN THAT TIMES 109%, AND THAT TIMES 109%; WILL PRETTY MUCH BE WHERE POINT VALUES WILL BE IN THE YEAR OF 2016, AND TO WORK IT OUT TO THE 70 YEAR BIBLE GENERATION FOR THE REESTABLISHMENT OF MATIONAL ISRAEL, just do two more times 109 percents to the above. This is where it all should end, or else Christianity is a big fat mother fucking hoax lie, not Morianity, that tells the fucking truth. I have nothing to gain with lying, but the gods do have such an agenda, and even admitted that I AM the greatest fish in the whole dam bay, back 27 years ago. Did somebody say, W—–O—–W?

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 black 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.

YEAH, SOME 'DREAM' PAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A TIME TRIP 31 DAYS INTO THE FUTURE, AND HALLOWEEN DAY 2 BOOT!

I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH ALL TIME RECORD FUCKING HIGHS, AND IT ALREADY IS ON THE WAY TOWARDS THE 15,000 LEVEL AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. I ALSO HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY, THE ATTORNEY GENERAL WILL NOT ALLOW YOU BASTARDS TO MOTHER FUCKING MURDER ME, AND ALSO,

I DEMAND MY FREAKING PROPS.

HELP ME PEE, YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE BY THE END OF MARCH, and now it is 24 April.

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EGG HARBOR CITY'S SECRET DAWN LAUGHING KING'S MAGIC SCHOOL OF GRINS AND TAUNTS, GOOD OLD HARBORFIELDS DETENTION CENTER, AHA-AHA-AHA, REAL FUNNY. NOW UR IN DREAM-LAND!

If anyone can find me PEE, it is e-bay genius you. PLEASE!

***MORIANITY PART FIVE***

A child knows that a lot of stuff can be learned by visiting my Youtube site, that will be gone forever very shortly. Your loss folks, not freaking mine. Truths are told cleverly.

http://www.youtube.com/paulaking2011/

THE MASTER SHEET FOR MORIANITY PART FIVE:

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My blogs
Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:
Morianity Foundation
The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version
To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian
RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL
About me
Gender
Male
Industry
Non-Profit
Occupation
paranormal researcher
Location
Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction
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.
Interests
I close my mind to nothing
Favorite Movies
all old movies
Favorite Music
most old music
Favorite Books
The Winds Of War, Gone With The Wind, Time Travelers From Our Future
You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?
An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:
At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.

If you have read this opening, feel free to skip this part.

FOLKS, AS I SAID TO THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE IN THE LATE EIGHTIES ON MY EPITOME OF HARASSMENT TAPES, GOOD MORNING, GOOD AFTERNOON, GOOD EVENING, WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE. How can I possibly know when you are reading what I am writing? I AM not the great ISISCYLLA SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, and never will be, sort of like my old pal David Charles Roth's only show in town. How he would always remind me, seemingly on a daily basis, that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is not the only show in town, nor will they ever be. I believe the tapes are somewhere available in the great Library of Congress, Copyright Office, in Washington, District of Columbia, a place may I add with a very liberated attitude where the age of sexual consent should be placed, and what is good for the lawmakers, is good for everyone else, and if that is not true, just exactly how have I misspelled America? XIII is the number by the way, such a tender age and how the perverts must wonder why this is not common knowledge and all move into our great capitol city, right Roy? I still cannot believe that you told me this, or that nobody seems to know it, know matter how I spread around what you said to me, old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This will be the master sheet for PART 5 of MORIANITY.
You may skip through this by scrolling, any time, folks.

December 12, 2006
More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtu.be/Vqg3oty0JMU ** song from 1983 redone, YBCO (C) HIM, ME.
This is merely a harmony track, I am trying to make a video and post the entire song, YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, MARK WAYNE MOHR, FULL COPYRIGHT AND OWNERSHIP OF SONG. Now at the risk of getting crucified, pigeonholed, or persecuted, read on, my wonderful great Morians.
At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey.  Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. 
Station Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently.  He was given a CD called "The Meaning of Life."  The back copy states that it was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the same title.  He's really difficult to listen to, for a couple of reasons- The recordings only capture Mark's side of the conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was standing outside on a windy day.  More importantly, he is insane.  Completely, violently insane. 
Mark claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.  His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet.   And also that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.  Covertly, of course.   Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.  (Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU's own Jason Forrest isn't clear.) 
Here then, are three selections from Mark's version of reality:
Interdimensional Technology (MP3)    Android & Angel (MP3)    12th Planet (MP3)
If you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.

As Bob Chabot said in 1981, is there any excuse 4U? MP.

Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi

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I know you are doing your best to watch over me, AG Mizz Bondi, thank you. Feel free to contact the Wirtz detectives in Camden County in New Jersey, Ron Senior knows my problem is all real, but his hands are tied, I am quite sure that you know what I mean.

55555555555555555555555555555555

**W-Map, courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida TV.**

Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.

Advisory Colors Key

Winter Storm Watch

Flood Warning

Non-Precipitation Advisory

Flood Statement

A beautiful shot of LUNA, also known as the moon, and 'Goddess Diana', by the Romans.
She is real folks, you will see when you're dead!

**END OF THIS TRANNY, OL' GRANNY, M-5, CH. 00053**

This is why you need to go and see the real deal, YO, at: http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

THANK YOU PEEPS, & have a very nice day and life, or just do a Mountainpen-180, WHAAAAAAA.

KING NEBNOOSHOO, MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER LIV (00054)

Every day this week and last week, my nabes love to shout and bang doors, and are around a lot more recently that they were for a while. It takes me time, but I get used to these butt wipes, not that it ever will be a day at the beach, and not that my days at the beach are anything too far removed from rotten and hellish, here with the robbery last year, and back in fucking Atlantic City with everything from giant girl gang attacks to just you name it and was more like what wasn’t fucking with me in that fucking miserable rotten place.

My health and bowels were stuck while sleeping. I will shit my guts out soon, and then take some Metamucil meds to compensate for the MILITUFORCE overnight attack. These scum blew up my airship while I was what all you call, DREAMING. I wanted to blow them up and then come onto the mortal world, clocked in and invisible, and strike enemy targets here, as I do quite often. When upon occasion my cloak of invisibility dicks out, you have all seen me from time to time, along with others of us from the Astral Plane. Diana told me she wants me to say something on my blogs, so I will, before this is all typed up, I never disobey my wonderful beautiful GODDESS. The dirt bag enemies have me running around in circles like a blind and decapitated mother fucking chicken, these recent fucking days. As a result, I did not say all I wanted to on my previous blog, M5, CH. 00053. So 54 will now do the talking for me. It is a nice 79 degrees right now in good old fucking cock sucking Port Pierce, Florida, USA-ES-MWG. (United States of America-Planet Earth, System of Sol, Milky Way Galaxy). It has been only low eighties each day, so there’s one rotten ass fucking plus out of things at least, Warner Brothers, WHAAAAAAA!

Doors are slamming away at 4:41 PM on this 04/24/2013. For more information on recent blogging activity, click here folks:

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

BYE BYE.

MORIANITY KNIG NEBNOOSHOO BLOGS PART 5, CHAPTER TEST BLOG

CHAPTER 51, KING NEBNOOSHOO BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MORIANITY PART 5

CHAPTER LI, MORIANITY PART V

5:24 PM-EDST

SATURDAY EVENING AND ANOTHER BOTBAR AND SIEGE

TWENTY APRIL, TWENTY-THIRTEEN

BEGINNING THRANSMISSION:

I WAS PUNISHED FOR POSTING CHAPTER 50, GOOD FOLKS, BIG ASS TIME. I HAD AN ELECTRICAL POWER OUTAGE THIS MORNING FOR AN HOUR THAT FUCKED UP MY “LAW AND ORDER” TELEVISION SHOW, AND SCREWED UP MY CLOCKS AND WOKE ME FROM SLEEP, AND DOORS ARE SLAMMING BY THIS ILLEGAL DIRT BAG WHO I WAS TOLD IS NOT LEGALLY PERMITTED ON THESE PREMISES, ONLY WE ALL KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY FOLKS WHO THUMB THEIR MOTHER FUCKING NOSE AT RULES AND LAWS, AND FLATTEN PEOPLE’S TIRES, DO ALL MANNER OF PROPERTY DAMAGE, AND MAKE A HOBBY IF NOT A FULL TIME OCCUPATION OUT OF WICKEDLY FUCKING DESTROYING OTHER PEOPLE’S ENTIRE LIVES, YEAR AFTER YEAR. THE POWER BEHIND THIS EVIL, LAYS IN ONLY ONE PLACE ON THIS ENTIRE MOTHER FUCKING GLOBE, AND THAT IS ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, HACKED OR NOT, ETTOS OR NON ETTOS HIT, DE GAMA MCGUIRE, YOU PILE OF BIOLOGICAL PURE WASTE AND SCUM.

If my friend, whoever it may be, who gave me the nice review on the WFMU HATESITE on me, is out here, let me take a second to address the one interesting thing you did say on your comment, regarding how I may be nearly a thousand and a half miles away from this dirt bag place, Atlantic City, yet still feel the effects. Did you ever hear that we are all now in the age of jet travel? These people have money, these people have power, they have friends all over the place, some right here in Fort Pierce up in the hood and even in the prison system. I had a dude named BOO call me from my local Saint Lucie County jail, right after I bought my daughter’s DVD, the 2009 movie, P. After I viewed it and while still in utter shock, I went to retrieve some phone messages, and one was from the PSL County jail, a prisoner named BOO. Naturally I did not call back to find out what that was all about. Folks, I am scared to death of MC, she is all powerful, she hates me, and before this is all over, I totally know this nation will experience the next new OJ TRIAL, and I will be the one killed down here, and not by Santa, the Easter Bunny, or the Highview Cheer Apartments Disney lady, Kirshty, all though that big lovely witch could kill me with one hand tied behind my back. The guy on the phone on my AT&T message was a 100% VM done at a lab back then from a friend, with the dude on my kid’s 2008 CD, 100%. He had the CD, I lost my copy, Dawn 20-Spaghetti Bowell Blacks in the Military drumbeats of 1983, stole my copy from me while I was Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapped and living there with the family at 65-A Middle Road in Blu-Berry-Ville, New Jersey.

I HAVE ONE HELL OF AN IMAGINATION, PRESIDENT O. Wow, if I could really do all of this, you should have me over with the Queen someday, you know, the whole deal with the tea and the crumpets, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!

PLEASE HELP ME FLORIDA AG, PAM BONDI, P-L-E-A-S-E. I am really honestly scared to death of my wild daughter, and HER WILD FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sharkey Marky may or may not be the greatest fish in the whole dam bay, but he has the evilest trashy bottom feeder neighbors across the hallway from him. Yes folks, I am putting up with them slamming in and out all day, and it still is going on at nearly 3 AM, and if it does not quit, I’ll call the fucking CRIME STOPPERS number, that was given to me by Resident Manager, Misses Debbie Marotto.

PHOTO IS COURTESY OF THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY. THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR THIS SHOT.

I have dozens of huge things to tell, that WOMO, I assure you; does not want out and told; if they don’t get off of me, Angels A, W, and Millie. WAYWINY, LILLY MUNSTER?

These dirt bags are all connected with the computer shit in this building, and the security guard rotation force. When I told what I told, they attacked me huge time, you can all be a witness to the way I say things, and then get instantly punished and pummeled by WOMO-MILITUFORCE right directly afterward.

There is no real true supernatural, and all of religion and church shit is garbage, but the idea behind it is moral and honest, and I find no fault with the fact that folks are still swinging from trees, carrying little self contained mini universes called compuphone’s, in many other dimensions ODF reality. NOT ODF, OF REALITY, HACKER MS SCUZ! When you go into a movie theater to watch the show called, “EARTHQUAKE”, huge sub-woofers shook the entire viewing area, simulating a real quake. There really was not one happening, but the illusion that there in fact was one happening, was very very fucking real. We all are tricked and fooled by sensory illusion, constantly and continuously, and even relentlessly. There is no devil called SATAN, but there may as well be, and THIS is a truth that the churches will eventually come to see and realize. For all intense and purposes, there is A SATAN, but still, Lenny, there isn’t an actual devil with horns and a pitch fork in a burning furnace of fire that is named HELL. Hell, and HEAVEN, words for great so-called after-life ‘places’, are not places at all, they are simply CONDITION-INTERACTIONS. Again, it may as well be real places. You would never know the difference if you were hooked up to a trillion dollar super virtual reality video-game, with brain connect scan technology; so that while you enter and play, your only memory of self is right there inside of that game; just as entering this world through the Astral birth dream; produces this seemingly, in like manner. Dennis Snyder would say it perfectly right about now, as should he be here, and saying all of this, as opposed to me; “That’s reality, son”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll give you some powerful GAGA CAT Q&A later on, but not on this blog. What I will close out with is simply this. Hopefully Mrs. Shoemaker and daughter Tracy, won’t make any trouble for deer sweet little old me, who tries so hard all the time just to be free, but if it does happen, I’ll deal with that another time, Youtube.

Every secret I reveal, the enemy punishes me back in a precise way that pertains to the details of that secret. Anyone following this for at least 6-12 months now, and cannot see this is true, along with how true all of my claims are; is simply in a comfy-zone-denial in their spirit, as they read the words of MORIANITY. Fine, you have a right to do and think as you please, and I have no problem with that. Still, I do know that that the majority who read my words, can see through the lies and do in fact know that I indeed am really truly being persecuted by some unknown beyond alien group of very very very distant foreign travelers. The only pieces in the jig saw puzzle that have any hope of fitting into a good explanation, is the games of the gods for distraction purposes; as well as to keep it all organized, and under their total control. Any truth should be revealed, and none should be intentionally buried and covered up, as they are currently being. Take the truth away, and all that be left is various degrees and forms of lacking sanity. Collectively as a species, humanity has a side effect of growing overly complex and technical on an ever increasing upward linear if not geometric sized scale. This would be none other than forcing truths, rearranging lies to become new age truths, and so forth, again, without what really is being what we all agree to perceive to be true, we have nothing. We may think we own a very high teck world and be super rich, and maybe even somewhat happy; but again, there is that pesky three syllable word again, ILLUSION! It does not matter where or what I live, work, go, do, and so forth. The Assistant to New Jersey Congressman Robert Andrews in 1998, Mister Clarence Harris, knew how real this powerful truth was in his own life, and never doubted it for a second in mine; as he could relate personally. There is an IF or an Interaction-Force that takes control, and makes gold slowly turn to rust and smelly garbage, if I am in any way connected into it; a subject that could be thousands of pages long, and not scratch all that much of even an ice shaved surface. But a few constants are right there in my face. The tit for tat retaliation that all started in 1986, along with the escalation of my major fucking hellish nightmare problems to begin with; PROVES and VERIFIES beyond one speck of miniscule doubt, that this is all a game of the gods, as Morianity has preached all along since it began in early 2006. Still, why me and not all of you? This is the all time Shakespearean question. Let us explore this.

If Shakespeare was correct even slightly, about the entire world being a stage, and us being the actors in a play here, and I know that he was told this by the gods in some form of slightly off of normal mind awareness state, be it a dream or meditation, or whatever; then we all have been given a roll to play, a four dimensional script to act out our part in an interactive menu various choices way, and so on and so forth. We do not bring this to surface waking mental level as we go through our waking times and live our parts in this Shakespeare play arena, but we play our parts nonetheless. Just as we breathe in and out, with rarely any conscious attention ever paid to it. Same exact thing folks. Before anyone totally judges the claims made in the Morianity teachings, you need to read all of the books ever written by one of the great nineties new age guru founding fathers, Carlos Castaneda. Then we can talk again and when I tell of a lot of stuff such as the Lambrigg Cult all meeting on this physical realm without knowing or remembering each other, merely being subconsciously driven to join the EW group, and all eventually and gradually carry out the great new age mind control, spoken of by me in my 1986 “Real Good Girl” music project that I copyrighted. You can see this as the title to a group of songs and matching the LOC catalog of my songs for 1986, in the blog’s enclosed list that I CAP in. Rather than go on and on and really say next to nothing for most readers at their dimly lit stage of awareness levels, let me try cutting to the chase. We have an existence of our truer self-entity, on the Astral-Plane, or the spirit world. This entity self or ‘soul’, is way to large and complicated, for any one universe to contain it; so it breaks up into countless amounts of various ones, where they then are all dreamed eventually, into various separate life-times, down in the fifth dimensional hyperspace. This is the vast area containing virtually limitless numbers and amounts of space-time 4-D universes, all operating on slightly different but agreeing atomic frequencies. Now I told of the towel example, and how localized other nearby realities, all seep together in strange ways, just as a soaking wet towel would also seep its wetness into other surrounding towels that lay around it and touch it at some point. Very soon, if harassment keeps up, I will make up real examples, showing these towels in action, and then showing my life here as well as in surrounding localized hyperspace. It is all one big us you know, and separate parts of our ‘soul’ living in unlimited parallel realities, does not mean a total disconnect in the lives of our many localized doppelganger other-us’s. All ready, my blogs show all sorts of dry towels around the one central wet one, but only a few are getting it, and putting the 2 and the 2 properly together, and arriving at the proper 4 answer. 3.9999999 won’t cut it. It may as well be 26.00029384756. Knowing what I have come to know about this topic, can be related to a lottery winning number. One number wins it. Every other number, far away or off by one digit; are all equally losing numbers, not counting the way the system operates the cash payout’s for near misses. I simply mean that any wrong answer, a little or a lot wrong, is still equal to a wrong answer, and that there only can ever be one correct answer, to any problem mathematically. Now my trying to post up my song, a year long try now, last week, at the library in West Fort Pierce; not only failed and caused a nasty BOTBAR day for me, but also, was punished. It is just a simple little ditty about a greedy fisherman, who refuses to share his catch with a starving family, who encounters him on a fishing jetty one day, and then later, a storm blows up and knocks him off the jetty to his death, where in the after-life, as mortals see it, he is saddened to see he no longer can have any fish to eat, despite being surrounded with such an incredible abundance of it. But we all know that this is more than a song telling a cute little story. The WOMO has a vested interest, or so it would appear, to keep me blocked and unable to ever do what normal 9 year old’s do every day like it’s nothing. Some may think this is supernatural, others that I am just either crazy and think this is all happening when it is a mere delusion, don’t I wish; or they figure, wow, what a total retard, all he has to do is get a book on how to work the Youtube at the library; only my fucking brain is not wired to be taught without a real live instructor or teacher. So the enemy has me covertly by my thrill rocks, and they know it, and they fucking laugh at me every dam ass day. It’s after four now, I’m tired, and I need to fucking crash. Yes, this blog is hit a lot, but my Youtube channel, http://youtube/paulaking2011/ is never hit, maybe once or twice every month, one song is hit. It seems that after I took down the original postings in middle 2011 after moving in here to this PHA apartment, and doing this, it caused a strange thing to happen where nobody can get to my music, and or, they just do not have any desire to ever go and listen to it, even though the blogs would make a lot more sense if viewers would listen to the music posted, as it tells true stories that will match stuff from this blog. Do I have any answers for just what is causing this? NOPE, not even a clue. Maybe ten or so wild theories, and they all together and three dollars, will get me 12 shinny quarters, any time, at any bank. I could not help seeing how one of the two brothers who caused so much havoc, back on Monday up in Boston, has a Youtube account and is only 19 years old, and has four digit hit counts on his posts, while I am lucky if my average post has had 3-6 hits, all other counts above that are my views, and or CAPPING links to blogs, as this all creates a view, and is counted. I am left to wonder why a murderer has 4 digit hits, and I am getting maybe 4 on one post, and 5 on another; and so forth; on an account I have had up since the 30th of December of 2010, almost two and a half years now. They stopped allowing me to blog share to blogger one day back last year in 2012, and I could go on. I know my stuff is somehow covertly being as sanctioned and blocked from stumble on views, as is possible. Many have also told me for a long time, that they gave up trying to get to my stuff from their computer, it just leads to nothingness. If I can ever prove this, I’ll have a case for First Amendment Legal Issues, impeding my freedom of speech, and I don’t even post major stuff such as hate core and really heavy anti-anything stuff, it is just normal music, that tells stories of my life, in small and clever ways; that is if it is listened to carefully. Hay, I am happy for those who get a million and 90 million views, but why am I getting 5? This has to be some form of a blockade, and this clearly legally is in violation of some rights that I know that I must have somewhere in this great country’s constitution. You cannot watch the news one day without the anchors telling how people post something, and it virals out to a million or more hits in just days. I do not go after that amount, but why can’t I get 2-6 thousand for example, who is stopping me? I do intend to hire an attorney, and see if I can indeed ever get to the bottom of it all, after-all, if this case is ever won, it would put me and my Morianity, on the map; and then I could get my message out to the world, and that is all that I have ever wanted to do; as then I would have friends on my side of this nightmare fight, and folks that would all band together, to help each other against tyranny and oppression, of any and all forms and kinds, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Again, only the blogger site has the blogs with photos and links and color, so to view a good copy since WordPress changed their system a while ago, sue this working link please, it will be much better, I promise you.
http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

I CAME BACK, MIZZ SCHRIVER KENNEDY MCGUIRE HICKEY

Yes, I have stopped blogging here for a while.

I will find out how to do some better blogging on this site soon, just give me time, I do not live in the same reality as the rest of you do, and you do not have to believe me to make this the truth, unfortunately, good people.

For now, catch up with the BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN with just one little mouse click, YO.

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

Have a very nice day folks, or just do a 180 of poor poor pitiful Ronstadt me, right Flying Linda and skating Jerry? Where does the time go, oh David Banner Bixby Hulk, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?

test blog

I figured out what happened at WordPress. It is pay or drop dead, same old ancient unchanging endless ongoing reality. If you do not upgrade to pro, your blogs look crappy. So you upgrade. Well, I have no money, so it is time to sign off of WordPress now, forever.

 

It was fun, and for those who wish to ever see my blogs, they are still at blogger dot com. The exact link is http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

 

Sorry people and WordPress, I am under a family curse, and part of thios curse is being forever suppressed and kept down and broke, so rather than have crappy looking blogs, I will fade away now into the night. Bye-Bye.

MORIANITY V, CHAPTER XL, KING NEBNOOSHOO

MASTER SHEET FOR WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE:

A NEW POST HAS BEEN ADDED TO MORIANITY PART 5 AT BLOGGER.

YOU WILL BE ABLE TO ACCESS A BETTER COPY THERE, HERE IS THE LINK:

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

ENJOY, and have a nice day. Thanx for reading MORIANITY! You don’t ‘own’ that little squib of literary word groupings, heavy lady!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER XXXIX, KING NEBNOOSHOO

MASTER SHEET FOR WORDPRESS BLOGGING SITE:

A NEW POST HAS BEEN ADDED TO MORIANITY PART 5 AT BLOGGER.

YOU WILL BE ABLE TO ACCESS A BETTER COPY THERE, HERE IS THE LINK:

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

ENJOY, and have a nice day. Thanx for reading MORIANITY! You don’t ‘own’ that little squib of literary word groupings, heavy lady!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA