Mountainpen&#8217;s Blog

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

Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,724, IN EQUIVALENT.

FEBRUARY 27, 2014,

THURSDAY NIGHT AT 8:30,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 59 DEGREES FNHT.

YES I AM NICE AND COOL, PRAISE GODDESS, EVEN IF HER LIVELY FAMILY RIPPED OUT MY LUNGS AND CHEMTRAILED THEM INTO WASHCLOTHS, BOTH LITERALLY, FIGURATIVELY, AND DREAMITIVELY!!!!!!!!!

W—O—W

Gina my giant lovely night girl of the nineties, YO, I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe you listened, but I doubt it. You and I were kind of busy in bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll bet dimes to donut holes that AT&T and Verizon got a kick out of my speed dialer that they featured with voice control. I would just say GIANT GINA, and boom, her sex-service would ring. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Hay, under 18, stay off the dam MORIANITY BLOGS, YO. Same thing applies to over 18 easily offended virgin ears people, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU MISSED ME, HA-HA-HA, JANE DIRTY JERKWEEDS BASEBALL. That transdimensional stuff can get hairy, right Misses Gaines Whydidu????????????????????? Who done it, Spellchecker, well, maybe the Super Sleuths of mystical Babylon, New York, up at 175 Peninsula Drive, right daughter cousin of Aunt Ruth, Misses Christine Myers????????????? WOW.

MY STOCK MARKET DOW JONES PREDICTIONS, FOLKS!

By end of march, —— 17,000 basis points.

By end of July, ———- 20,000 basis points.

By end of the year, — 25,000 basis points.

JUST WATCH AND SEE PEEPS, I’LL BE RIGHT, AND THE PROPHET OF TRUCKING GRASS MOLE SHIRT HEAD RUNT SLAPPING HUNTINGTON HELL, HATH SPOKEN, AND SO DECLARED IT. AS IT WAS WRITTEN, SO IT SHALL BE DONE, PHARAOH RAMASES, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Silwee Wabbit and twix clueless kids, of the Kim Wild Club, of the early eighties; I now say to you, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bite me world!

HAY GAWKY GAUKAUK, why has my left eye been trucked up lately and who is responsible for this???????

MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW-MEOW, MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, YO, YO; PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER-972!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WELL PEOPLE, HERE IS MY MATCH-BOOK ITEM LIST, FOR THINGS THAT ARE PART OF COSMOS, IN THE NUMBER OF 972, IN THE GREAT MYSTICAL GAWNUM:

ROBERT MCGUIRE OF ATLANTIC CITY, MARK POOLE, ‘ERNIE’ SONG, MARK MOHR IN TWO THOUSAND TWELVE, LAKEHOUSE, NEIGHBORS, MORIANITY, FIRE DREAM, GIANT GIRL, ZERANNISS, JANE FONDA.

Remember people; GAWNUM is a major art and science that’s all rolled up in one, and is not like most things you’ll encounter in this hell nightmare human life, well, I’ll speak for myself here with those harsh words. Aniwho; ^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^, AHA Mister McNulty sir; this is a skill that is acquired after a lot of understanding of the system itself, followed by rote practice in piano lesson fashion. I could say, why did my day go so bad and who was most responsible for this, and draw my two cards, and get names of folks all over Planet Earth, that had diddly Whoopee Goldberg squat to do with any of it. This merely forms a basic starting point, so that a user of this skill can then move on and begin querying the Gawnum a lot further; until they get compatible answers, that just cannot be off, after many questions and answers come, that are both compatible and non compatible, and I will be repeating how to create these 81 numbers, as well as do these basic things with them, in soon to freaking follow blogging text journal tapes.

Now for some rock chucking bunt tapping bad news, and some mediocre news, to report, YO peeps: First for the mediocre news: I stopped keeping trucking track of my BOTBARS, it was worsening my quanta connection in the subatomic worlds, and from there, that rotten dirty shirt then filters downward into the dream downs of hyperspace, these lives we all live in unfathomable numbers of parallel universes. And yes quantum Labbers, there is so much more than just some simple one line interaction with transdimensionalization, and dark matter, and dark energy, really; where would I even begin to tell you? It is not one theory or another, but all of them combined a lot more. But I am so happy that you dudes and duddesses are beginning to see what I have been saying now for 40 freaking years, over bugged and tapped telephones, and recently in the past just more than eight years, on the internet, on my BLOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The bad news time now, perfect time for these dirt hole nabes of mine to really slam a door, bottom feeding barnyard total pigs.

For close to two months, my PERSONAL INTERACTION WITH COSMOS {{{((‘LUCK’))}}}, for a very misunderstood early grammar school level replacement word, that is a heck of a lot more relatable to the general public; but yes, my LUCK has been peaked out after being higher than it was in decades, not YEARS, I said trucking DECADES; and yes, it is on the way back down fast and furious and hard, and with a lot of assistance from many folks in the evil EW, so I used their own movie-show words in this ‘taped life journal’ (BLOG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My TEST SCORES have been between minus 13 and minus 15 on every game-test taken, over the past week. Normally, I perform 2 on average, of these GAME TESTS, and need not go into what I have been doing since around the end of last summer time somewhere. I will only print it if it is requested, George and George and George, AND SALLY-98, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

In other words, my daily average over the past 7 days is minus fourteen points per day. It has never ever been that bad for a solid week. I am quite happy with myself, for deciding to repeat what I did back in middle trucking 1997, and stopped keeping frikkin’ grass track of all this mucking Morse tap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I trucking get slit right, once in a while, Dawn-Marie king, the Latengrate. I don’t always get it trucked up, GIRL, HAY, Cuzz Letty! Sweet stuff, you’re far better off without your drinking buddy, ‘Teeshy’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me know, as my kid did in no uncertain terms; if you don’t like my nick-name!!!!!!

Folks, as you know, I did not have an extremely wonderful day, to wit I reply; ”SAME OLD SAME OLD, WHAT ELSE IS NEW, and for short, SOSO-WEIN!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, all is well,;and despite a chemtrail filled sky, I will go to my doctor, and onto some other errands, the store, the sheriff’s office, and a few other little things along the route that need taking care of. ‘HAY GIRL’, the sheriff can wait. When I go there, I will have quite a bit more amo in my anti-McGuire file, to take with me.

Well, I hope the dentistry career is going well for you, my old pal Darius Evans, now living in the great Carolina’s not that far from my pal and a cousin of Ramsey Louis from the great old band called EWF. Thank the gods, it was not called Existence Without interaction, right my pal and ex-Mayor Bloomberg? WOW!!!!!!! Some politicians are better and more honest than others, and then again, the New Jersey short lived Mayor and so-called Special Forces metals achiever in our American Armed Forces, Robert Levy Junior, not Senior or the THIRD, but there are all kinds of wonderful as well as totally corrupt politicians. When more are good and less are bad, folks will come to trust in Washington a lot more, mister President. Don’t be too disappointed in us bloggers, we get angry and yell, and speak out, and to quote you sir and my friend; that’s what America is all about, or should be. All tings come from higher truths and then filter down, and is why religion is a powerful force in humanity. The evil part of all of this is beyond the worst fabrics of anyone’s nightmares. These are called the Lambrigg cultists of the Briggbase, and they live on this Briggbase, on the great Astral-Plane. Many have connected themselves into a lot of things in these dream-downs, here in mortal waking life. These powerful political movers and shakers from the land of the dead, as mortals might recognize this reality as, if they knew and witnessed with memory, what I have; since about the time, that time-road-trip dude entered the world through the physical body as NC. Don’t die on me DEEZEE SLIM, don’t want you drilling holes in my mouth someday if I ever move up your way, and you haven’t yet taken over the rap-world. No world, this is just an excerpt from a SAFE JOURNAL BLOG, let me paste it in and show you, WHAAAA!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0559

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2285

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“GOING ON A FOURTH MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY, &

THINGS ARE WORSE FOR ME THAN THEY HAVE EVER

FUCKING BEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE LADIES AND GENTS”.

SWORN VOLUNTARILY TAKEN OATH BY ME ON THESE WORDS ON THIS BLOG, WITH NO ADDITIONS OR

DELETIONS, TO THESE TOTAL ABSOLUTE TRUTHS SPOKEN.

SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: 091512.449.55555555555555

SATURDAY MISERABLE ROTTEN MONSTER MORNING

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

No, we will not be beginning any transmissions now, more like ending one, as I need to eat and get ready to retire for the day, and another long day of nightmare hell for pitiful pathetic non-Ronstadt little me, with or without other political friends, or roller derby’s or rinks, in or out of New Jersey’s famous berry town called hammonton, or out in the great wonderful land of the CALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lads, Lassies, Labbers, and Labrador Retrievers; I am going to end this little bwog for tonight, and say tootaloo to Irene Tupperware, castles in or out of the sky or on sandy beaches early in the eighties just you and I, Krassle’s hassles, Pete hasse’s, Petee Pote’s, Chief Pope, all Pope’s, and all of Marie Callio’s of late eighteenth century Italy. Rest well Frank Callio, as I am coming after your horrendous family, and you’re better off wherever the freak you truly are and that you can believe and totally know without needing any help or assistance from the great mighty Lurch Rockdroid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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

W—O—W

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

ALL MY LOVE FOREVER, MY BABY-BLOND LOVE!!!!

December 12, 2006

More Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3)

http://youtube/paulaking2011/fucktheworld

DON’T CLICK (THE TOP), SINCE I FINALLY REDID THE VIDEO, AND POSTED IT AT THE SITE SHOWN ABOVE. ‘WEEEEE-NA’! Don’t waste your time clicking anywhere. I will be removing this shit and clearing and deleting all of my social media accounts, including blogger and youtube. I will not keep banging my head, or my fists, Misses Wonderful Marola, through brick walls, not any more!

People all hate my music so much, fine, this is why I hate yours as world, world. Simple fair is fair physics. KMA!!!!!!!!!!

THIS ISNOT MORIANITY,PART FIVE,AND PLEASE BELIEVERS AND L-4 FOLKS, TRY AND HAVEYOURSELVESAVERY VERY NICEDAY.

YOU ARE NOT CONTINUING TO READ CHAPTER 00112. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

THIS IS TAPE 25,724 EQVT.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

555555555555555555555555

Posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 5:28 PM No comments:

Labels: DATFILE XIII, THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL and ME

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME DATFILE XII

RATS, TATS, AND PLAYING REAL J.S. FOOTBALL, ON TUESDAY EVENING 103007.742 DATFILE XII Here at Ed Himacane’s Place, I now BEGIN TRANSMISSION: THIS IS BLOGGER SITE BLOG # 29
I fell under bad nasty siege today, and the Flyers Hockey team will as a result tonight, KICK FUCKING ASS. The Dow Jones Industrials and their jack off NASDAQ will continue 2 FLY-FLY-FLY-FLY-FLY-STRAIGHT TO THE DISTANT STARS, without looking back, going 2 14K+ in November, and by the end of the year, straight up to 15,17, and higher, into 17, 18, 19, and 5-digit 20,000 points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes my pal, Mister Seabottom, sir; the only thing indeed we ever can be sure of, as stated on my bio, is that we cannot be sure of anything. And then folks wonder why an eternal optimist like lovely Twinbay, calls me a ”glass half empty kind of a guy”, to quote this Beyonce Knowles total twin, only a foot taller!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hence, the nickname given to her by me, ”TWINBAY”, WHAAAAAAAAA.

This is another IPE or Invisible Parallel Event, like bi-parameter number play at a roulette table. I was expecting it, with fully tensed stomach muscles Houdini. When I all ready know it will B there, I can throw up a board that lessens the stomach punch a little bit thank the gods. Monday was quiet, but as U know, they got their way with a huge Dow gain on Friday, as I predicted in all of my blogs ending on the prior week. The only thing that went OK empire-wise was the Eagles, but that is because when they lose one or two games, I control the world forces that make things happen by using what I call the KILL-HIS-CREDABILITY methodology. So I type in the Blogging Title of Rats and Tats, and then say PLAYING REAL NON-EAGLES football, and then this makes the next time that they play come out a WIN. I do not care who believes in what I say, as I know I speak the absolute truth, and I know Y all the entire creation is here, and how it got here, and have done my mega-best 2 explain this 2 the world through this present time internet computer system. U will believe what U want 2, and I can try and make UC the truth until the brown eyed cows and Callio’s come home, and it will change nothing. This little bit of simple wisdom was learned by me by the RPL printer, big Mike, back in late 1980, when he said 2 me one cold day, “U cannot do one diddly little thing 2 change anything around here, live with it or quit”. He was absolutely right, and I cannot make people think or believe a single thing that they don’t wish 2.

People laugh in these modern science days when they watch the movie “THE EXORCIST”, with that lovely cute Linda Blair, especially in her remake of the Ex-2. It is not a bunch of bull shit, it is fucking real. I have had bed shaking, non-induced astral projection, and objects appearing, vanishing, and moving, just not anywhere near in intensity as in the movies, but crissake, ask yourself, what is like in the MOVIES? Hollywood is in business 2 bring us the exaggerated version of reality. It must B based on some reality, then in various amounts and degrees, EXAGGERATED! But if it is based on nothing we viewers can ever in any possible way relate 2, who would watch 4 very long? This is topic that needs a major elucidated expansion on, at a later time when I have more time. Exaggerated? Try this word times one times ten to the fiftieth frikkin’ power, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moving on, there is much that needs talking about, and early in November, it will B, as well as errors and PBE will B corrected and entries and new posts will also B added 2 Web-pages on my site at http://www.morianity-foundation.com. $ now, I need 2 share a very lucid interaction from last night when I lost consciousness shortly past midnight, or as the MW puts it, when I went 2 bed and 2 sleep. I had a major lucid dream. Do not confuse vivid with lucid, as U can have a dream so vivid that it can stay with U all day like it is bigger than the life around your so called waking world, but this is not lucidity. Lucidity in a dream is when U right there in the dream know that UR in a non wakeful condition and R fully U and aware and conscious, yet not bodily as this is where your body seems 2B, yet U know that your body is back in bed, and U know what the date is, where UR living, and the whole 9 yards of your life. Now some tell in dream books that in a lucid dream, U can make the characters and the dream itself move and alter and conform 2 your will, and who am I 2 argue. I know that if U can do this, UR bi-located in a locale in hyperspace, HS, where it works 4U in this manner. I read the story of the lucid dreamer who realized his dragon nightmare was his cigarette smoking problem, and he confronted the dragon and realized all of this and even upon waking, broke his smoking habit, and I say HIP HIP HURRAY 4 him. A positive resulted, and he was in a hyperspace [play-field] which I will get into later. My lucid dreams R what I have termed in the last calendar year THIRD THING HAPPENINGS, TTH 4 short abbreviation. I called them various things starting on the night of December 7th, 1969. Aste, the lady who’s unknown named husband who took my chain away from my friend Brad Messenger and I back in June of 1969, came 2 me in a lucid dream that I never as yet touched on, and told me that my 8th grade history teacher, Mrs. Moldoff at the Haddon Township High School was intentionally placed in an automobile accident because of something she did regarding my education, and this is a long and complex story that later on in adult life was checked out and 4 the most part, totally verified. About the interaction last night, Sarah Karge was in it, and some of Nina Soifer’s best friends, as well as a strange Hispanic male about 25 years of age, and his girlfriend. There was no changing or rearranging this ‘dream’. But I knew I was in a [DREAM]. There was a strange lady who came out of the sea and said some strange things 2 a lifeguard in ACNJUSAESMWG, and within my earshot, and his. I have no memory of his name, but he was a very good friend of mine in this interaction, this fact *I was totally aware of. I will end this all though we could exchange many more things that occurred and detail many wild things, but basically, I ended up at the Teck Bay Mystery School with a friend of Gawki, another Mystic-guru-professor there, and Sarah Karge was being talked about by a dude looking as a human male with eyeglasses, about five feet six inches or so in height, 175 pounds, heavy in the middle and typical middle age in build, appearing as about 45-55 years of age as would B humanly perceived. The point I have time only now 2 convey, is that these characters were in no way under my control, I tried, and it does not work. Yet I knew totally that it was, as U would perceive the reality, A DREAM!!!!!!! The elevator room or the D-6 is involved in this. As 4 the Lois Foca 1980 and the Chain 1969 interactions and lucid TTH it must B told that there R indeed what the church used 2 feel more comfy saying, demonic spiritual forces and I know it, but the movies amplify and exaggerate it 2 the point where people say it is ridiculous and untrue, fiction and entertainment. U all R so wrong, and have doomed yourselves 2 a hell of super high technology that UR totally able to get a small clue on at the present time. When I would swim in pools 10-12 years ago using my ‘forward’ ability 2 propel, the kids on the swim team would say;” look, that is so way cool”. Once, I went faster than a guy with a buggy board and foot flippers, and still, it is simply cool. The world would not know spiritual realities or the re-tracing of the master Messiah if it came up and bit them straight dead center on the ass. The Millionth Council has some good entities in it, but one third of them R called the Briggers, they own our business world and Wall Street, and some secret sects and cults in Japan; know of this tucked away secret reality. It got Dark Shadows put off the air, the whole Sky Rumson thing, none of this is fictional, and this world soon will BURN FOREVER IN INFITE ETERNAL HELL, and won’t even B aware of it. Amazing but true, and the gods do not totally believe some of what I say, but I know the truth.

The only thing real is void infinity. The only thing going on outside it in a wild cosmic dream, is EXPLORATRONICS. But someone went BACK THROUGH TIME half a dozen years, and began getting powerful followings on the net, using this word. Whoever reads my blogs, they all are MILITUFORCE, and so this project will be ending, I am not banging the walls for your amusement any longer, great and powerful misses Maroloz from 1969. My head and hands are bleeding enough now, and I do not want my renters beyond the locked door at the end of the Flower-wing, to get too dam excited. IT’S TIME, Mister fucking McNulty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, October 25, 2007 Many typographical blogging errors will B amended on this and future blogs, what I call “Prior Blogging Errors” or shortened 2 [PBE’s] One from memory hits me right now from re-reading my print outs, which I print out as I fully intend 2 send these 4 blogs 2 the LOC, Office of Copyrights, very shortly, as soon, I will B heading off for Hawaii, or some place far away from this area of Atlantic City, the stock market hub in New York City, and Philadelphia and its hockey and baseball teams, and this evil trilogy, and the ICPE nightmare hell that I have been forced 2 suffer through for the same amount of years as it takes a new born baby to reach the age of majority. The first PBE was that the zero never printed out on the word program, while I was discussing the clock, and that there R 1,440 minutes in one day on this planet, not 144, sahwee there rich prince, and yes I do have a Capital One account, and love this bank very much. Moving on, dividing 1440 by 1000 moves the decimal point 3 spaces over to the left to give us 1.44 minutes to the milliday, or 1/1000th of one Earth day, which is a time period of just slightly greater than 80 seconds, or 1.44 minutes. This is why after a date, the point 250 is 6 AM, the point 500 is 12 noon, the point 750 is 6 PM, and the point 000 is midnight. One milliday past midnight is 1.44 minutes later at point001, and 10 millidays past midnight is 14.4 minutes past midnight, or 36 seconds shy of being a quarter past 12 AM, and so forth. Millidays were started by the World Lab. I also made some PBE statements regarding when I worked as a Labber here, sahwee, will work, only here in this part of HS, it is where I worked, as 2 me it happened already but in another transdimensional plane of the great HS, [hyperspace]. It was in the year of two two seven six that lots of bad stuff was starting to unfold, and no is 2 blame 4 it except me, unlike ACNJUSAESMWG’s City Council, when it is my fault, I take the responsibility and do not shuffle it off to Buffalo, or other innocent persons, I did it, I pay 4 it, the crime and the time, U know the whole Beretta thing. It was in the year of two three oh one that I was being transported in the Sky-car-100 and escaped by falling out of a hatch a mile or so off Brigantine, NJUSAESMWG. I was able unbeknown 2 the transport criminal authorities or the TCA to disable the ship and delay a destruct and jump out, they had no idea at all that I had been privy 2 lots of teck that was behind the construction of top-secret details regarding the security features of this great and famous vehicle. However, a horrible painful shot from an ASG or agony-stinger-gun, was used on me and I was hit and remember as sure as I sit here now typing on little black laptop keys at this very present minper, the pain of feeling as though I am literally on fire, both outside and inside. This is what this weapon does, it delivers a sting pain that is worse that being lit up with gas and matches lit and thrown at U. The difference is that it lasts only about half a minper, [astral-minute], and does virtually no permanent cellular damage to the victim. I remember jumping out of this thing and hitting the ocean, and then being a little child, a female, perhaps 7 or 8 years old, an Indian Squaw, playing with other young boys and girls, later coming 2 learn that this was Delaware State, USA, and that I was in the tribe of the Miquon. I grew up and married the second oldest son of the tribe’s Chief, and within a year, and several months pregnant, was shot in my head my an old English musket 4 being unfaithful, only I was innocent and was only out in a river in a canoe with the Chiefs oldest son because I was trying 2 make my husband a gift and needed his spin on what his favorite thing would B that I would B able 2 make 4 him. The youngest 3rd son of the Chief was the tribe’s best shot, and while out on this lovely river discussing this matter, I only remember falling down, not dying immediately, but slowly feeling the life going out of me, and the next thing that happened was being 8 years old a half century or so later in 1713, and my name was Benjamin Franklin. I had a good life in this sequence of dreams, and was n nothing like I was portrayed in the Bewitched show with Mizz twitchy nose Montgomery. I was muscular and well over six feet tall, and had many girlfriends as well as night ladies. Diana Arteemis never came 2 me directly while in this set of dreaming physicality, however, on my deathbed she did and told me amazing things about a future existence where I would B in a room in the sun, later on by 190 years in the first day of May, in 1980, I came to this room in the sun, but more than another full decade of time went by B4I understood that this room in the sun was an apartment living room at 4th and Preston Roads in Voorhees Township, NJUSAESMWG, at Robin Hill Apartments, suite #1802. Gawki Gaukauk the magic huge Black Panther Cat that is in charge of the great teck bay mystery school on the astral plane, or phase number two reality has told me that when I thought I had self-destructed the great SKYCAR-100, it was only part of the PUNIGRAM interacting with my waves, and that in truth, I was in agony and unable 2 do anything except wildly wiggle around on the floor of the vehicle screaming in excruciating pain, and was tackled and bound instantly. When I was mind-downloaded into my hell-box, in the penal room at the Brigantine Station, then totally a military base, not at all the seashore resort that is in current times, this room is huge containing tens of thousands of potential transplant boxes, called the BSPR. When I was placed into eternal hellfire and damnation as it is still thought of in today’s caveman days Geico, your ads totally SUCK. So does the constant MUZAK teasing every time I walk into a grocery store. The minute U hit the floor mat, the door opens and the Muzak is set 2 switch on, but what plays is rarely that automatic and coincidental, and I know I am not imagining this, nor am I being paranoid. Also I am not imagining the tons of giant sluts everywhere I have gone today and yesterday, the average height of the female population is just not high enough, that the statistical odds of running into a slew gang of so many giants everywhere I have been 4 two straight days, could yield a logically explainable reasoning for this absurd occurrence. Well, back on point, if Gawki the Teck Bay Lottery-Cat is correct and not just teasing me, I have always wondered, but now know totally, that indeed, I lived once in a real life, and died and went 2 eternal fucking hell.
Now I will add a little more to the mysteries part of this school that visits the mortal world from time 2 time and once landed in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG, but B4 starting this, another PBE was when I was kiddingly referring 2 the Doubters Club of Missouri New Jersey, sahwee, meant obviously 2 say, MOUSAESMWG. On the Law and Order show, one of last night’s episodes claims that millions of new words R added 2 the interned every day, and I can CY. The word [kiddingly] must B an example. Spell checker gives me the red wavy lines, and I just add it 2 its dictionary, what the puke is wrong with saying kiddingly? Anyway, I was in an argument with my machine at this place at the Ellisberg Circle Shopping Center of Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG and was trying to do something Frank Sinatra’s or MY WAY. Well Blue eyes, I have a morning Light bone 2 pick with U and your crud bag fan club president who harassed me illegally and stole 30 or more thousand dollars from me, well after all, a friend of a man who publicly urinates in a casino when he feels like it, guess no shock value should B there, but back again on point, and enough about Michael dirt ball Stosny the bottom feeder lowlife and his pals that R well known by the Somerdale Police Department in NJUSAESMWG, so here I am in late October or early in November, 37 years ago back in Autumn-1970, playing with a machine that has a mind of its own that talks 2U and all. This all happened, and yet nobody believed me, not my mother, friends, or the school authorities in the school that I was going from on my bicycle, 2 go 2 on several afternoons each week. The owner of the school was there and rarely spoke a single word 2 a soul, just sat in a big office with a big black tomcat on his lap. Yeah, right out of the freaking Twilight Zone. Then I told a mysterious gang at Newton creek in West Collingswood, this girl gang all wanted 2 do me. I was not into early age sex despite living in the sixties generation and most boys would have jumped at the chance. Don’t get me wrong, I totally love women, just was a late bloomer, as basically, Sarah had my mind messed up big time, and if my theory of DS/SC being one and the same KENT/SOUP kind of a deal, then wow did Donna have a nerve, hay baby, who the Mylanta screwed me all up 2 start with? Things do not just happen by themselves, there is no perpetual motion, unless U put it into play, and even then, the 4th dimension eventually neutralizes any power. The planets will stop spinning eventually, the stars will burn up and go out, and this is just reality son!!!!!!!! As my lyrics soon 2B all added 2 my website go, http://www.morianity-foundation.com, “I never said U have to really like it and I never said when losing all your chips U have 2 love it, but if U think U can run 2 the CCC, U know they’re gonna drown U in the sea, sea, sea”. U have no idea how the next months will B used 2 build on my website, sound bites, pix, music additions both new and old, and much more.
Death angels R constant, and so is persecution of all types, but less severe than last week so far. I took a nasty chopper over my residence after posting my previous web log up to the Blogger site and the Mysteries site, the DATFILE TEN. Datfile –IV is also RTPRF#14. All the way back 2 the Morianity Bible Blog Chapter 1, it is merely a negative datfile number, no matter which site a blog posts, or where it is ahead or behind the current day and time, this is the datfile #, such as the Blog #30 will B DATFILE #00000XIII. By having this, I can keep track in one file, not worrying about any linear order of blogs on any particular blogging sites, other than the fact that all datfiles on any site, will B always in some ascending Roman numeral order. FLYERS WIN WIN WIN WIN, DOW JONES UP UP UP UP. How long have I said this, well 2 your point of reference, over 2 years as a Blogger. I have said this on soapbox after soapbox for 20 years now, a murderer’s prison sentence of time, and will go on saying it forever and ever. Well, told U all after Friday’s 300 plus point drop, that it would go right back up, and the giant pussy attack is being used to do this, engineered obviously by the great MILLIONTH COUNCIL. They R in charge of everything, however, they do not want 2 believe the truth that even they R inside or said perhaps a bit better, just and integral part of the upline thought of a girl by the name of Sarah Krassle. Neptune-Jupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious called me a liar when I told him that his great eldest daughter SCYLLA as on the astral plane an eldest daughter IS a Scylla, but on the MW this name caught on 4 this mighty beauty queen, is indeed an upline girl. The Gods will not believe me so Y should those on the Mortal World, MW???????? END TRANSMISSION.
Google-Swis-World-Lab official web documentation. This transmitted message is being done by Mark Mohr under pen name of Michael Mountainpen. All blogging is copy written under these names, if these name R on these blogs. DATFILE 00000XI [eleven]. END TRANSMISSION.

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Labels: HELP ME SARAH STACEY THE GODS SCYLLA, THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL and ME

Folks, shit had to start somewhere. I ain’t fucking perfect. But as time ticked by, I began to clean up the lousy degraded philosophy-quality, in the same manner that a sound engineer tries to clean up dirty old days recordings, from time to time. Oh Shirley Biteneck Delaney, if you are Kent and Soup, well, twins seem to run in this wild family of so many flying yet totally magical bullets, like really???????

SLAM BANG BOOM, what a bunch of fucking jerk off nabes I must contend with month after month, and year after year, but then folks, look at the mother fucking dates on these blog entries, and tell me if my life ever changes, and then tell me, I AM N OT LIVING IN FUCKING ETERNAL COCK SUCKING ASS HELL, JUST GO AHEAD AND TELL ME THAT, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One hell of a wild imagination I have, sure good and rotten people, real wild, so then why don’t they want me writing stuff for them? If you don’t see the truth about all this, you’re the looney-Tunes, not fucking me, YO!

RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

About Me

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

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Thursday, October 18, 2007——reprinted 23 June, 2013.

Where RU SCYLLA my TEEN QUEEN??? Yeah really, 68 months have gone by, and all you did was hurt me, BEG!

Ratting and tattle tailing, and playing both defensive and OFFENSIVE, ‘REAL’ FOOTBALL- better known as the title RATS, TATS, AND PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL, DATFILE #00000IX This is BLOG #26 on Thursday, 101807.600
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION FROM THE END TRANSMISSION ON DATE AND TIME FILE 00000VIII, the prior blog posted on two sites:
I just returned from a totally miserable time at the Atlantic county Prosecutor’s Office, involving Paula King’s second cousin once removed. Ann Silva, Dawn’s mom, and I, sat twice now, through long multiple proceedings, and have gotten no resolution to the problem of sentencing. I knew when the Phillies blew out 1-2-3, the Flyers now in the first fucking place position, never lose, the Dow markets and Jazz jack off NASDAQ, or the National Association of Securities Dealers Automated Quotations, making ball crime dead chord cries [all time record highs] day after day after gay, and when the Eagles and Sixers went straight down the toilet as well, a child moron with a triple lobotomy can clearly C the Johnny Nash equation, that this would not work out in my favor with this lunatic female yard bird. Now after not believing me at first, Eddie is turning around, and Ann Silva believes in my suffering 2 million percent, so I finally have a real true believer and pal on my side of the fight, along with my long time angel of Somerdale, NJUSAESMWG, KAREN S. The insurance papers should B coming KS in about one or two weeks, I’ll B in touch for getting your signature, thank U4 saying yes 2 all this in your return message voicemail.

Hyperspace and dreams and exploratrons: This is the true and honest TRINIDAD, and if you are south of most borders, we would alter this word to TRINITY. The words merely alter depending on a mailing address, Mike McNulty. So before the Callio/Carey branch of this lovely group go back to their silliness AOA (all over again), here are some tid bit scraps about how this works, when brought down to a more human world thinking level. Remember that the math proves all the words I speak, and anyone reading this may reproduce it in any way they so choose to do, and take it to any large university, to the top dog physics and or mathematical and statistical analysis departments, and they will tell you that what I say here is all the dam ass truth. Yes, I only thought that the late 2009 AT&T television commercial was the deep end of MC’s inconceivable ‘darker’ sense of humor; and I totally admit to being fully wrong and ignorant. Folks, the reason we see twins of people, you know, lookalikes, the reason many unexplainable events happen, from the pyramids being built, all the way to any unsolved and seemingly unexplained mysterious event in human history, is explainable only with the truth of the five full dimensions of Astral-Dream-Down material tangible realities. I don’t dare say right now what I would like to say, but I will, it is just a matter of really screwing up my courage, as it will most likely, lead me to the realization of my recurring nightmares of ending up in prison. I have said way too much Mister Rockford McGuire, but hear this, oh lovely family. I AM FOREVER, so no matter what you do to me, I AM HERE. I have uncovered maybe 10-20 percent of the secrets, and when it reaches 40-80, this is when things will become quite interesting. This world is clueless to the power of my words on this blog, no matter what they think they may know about all of this Morianity, they know jack. I know jack, for that matter. Still, if Jack = X, then I am at maybe 3.67029572X, on a scale from 1-1000. But give me some time, and Pope, YES, I’ll blow this whole thing right down, that is unless all this nightmare stops, lovely B.E.G. Laugh at me all you want to, you’re in great company, girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All day long, despite a thunderstorm on and off, all around me, HUGE GIGANTIC FUCKING-DEATH ‘CHEMTRAILS’ ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, ESPECIALLY LOADED UP TO THE EAST OF ME, AND THEY SENT ME A MIND HACK AS THEY READ MY FUCKING THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW, MAKING ME WANT TO INITIALLY SAY TO THE FUCKING CUNT WEST OF ME, NO IT IS TO MY EAST, BUT ALL OVER TOWN AS WELL; IN-BETWEEN THE THUNDER CLOUDS. On top of this, a major HOSTILITY-HOLOGRAM IS ALSO ALL AROUND
ME TODAY, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF ONE VERY NICE NABE OF MINE, AND IT MAY BE CONNECTED TO MY DEATH PUNISHMENT, AS WE EXCHANGED SOME INTERESTING INFORMATION EARLIER ON, and that’s all anybody needs to know other than for this, to tie it all totally together in a nice juicy and stinky disgusting garbage bag, that it all belongs in aniwho! Without getting into specifics and placing another life in extreme mother fucking danger, let me say that around the turn of the century, despite meeting my very first family member for the first time, half a dozen years back in Deptford, New Jersey; and interestingly enough; the same general fucking area where the AME Church was located and maybe still is, where one member of the congregation was a very close friend to the father of the queen of disco herself, Donna Summer, and of course, I am speaking of the great cool dude and Building Maintenance Company owner like my pal Bernard Derakowski back in 1981 and 1982, but I am a total believer in having major respect for what was in the fictional television script on the voted by viewers number one choice in original STAR TREK shows, titled, “City on the Edge of Forever”, as indeed, there are eddies and currents, and backwash systems that run not only through time’s D-4, but most towel definitely, wet and dry, through, no puns but speaking of and give me a break Marge Barge Leo, YO; but also that run through hyperspace’s D-5. Now according to Gawky Gaukauk, time should be D-4 and is, but hyper-space, Mizz McCoo, is D-5, but interestingly enough, the majority of users of the word HYPERSPAVE, do in fact break it up into two words, and hyphenate it, you know HYPER SPACE, each word indeed containing 5 letters, as TIME contains 4, more fascinating shit from the annals of the great and powerful OZCAT, speaking of what got said before all fucking cunt eating hell broke out with this siege, although even this is a tad bit off of the total mark of truth, and let me explain just why, my good believers out there, YO! The day is starting out real nasty for me. I had horrible nightmares all night long, except for being with ISIS for a short while as she met me in a parallel universe, coming to me as an incredibly beautiful young tall dark haired girl, but so many bad things were all around me, and again, people were trying to get me put into jail. This has been going on since 1977 when these nightmares all began about going to jail. I’ve never ever been in jail, and this totally fucking sucks. Now this little paste in is no hack or accident folks. Things did not start in this waking world with the hell around me once I left my apartment. It began with a second mother fucking night of major ALL FUCKING NIGHT-MARES!

For a very long time now, before I ever posted one thing on a Youtube account on the thirtieth of December in 2010, I was told to, in powerful dreams, by the great ISIS-ERMC. It began after being at work at Cifaloglio Garage one day, in Folsom, New Jersey, 3000 miles from the other more famous Folsom and the mighty Johnny Cash, another substance abuser, goddess help the entire Entertainment World (EW)! On this particular night, something happened that caused me to listen to a particular side of a cassette tape, that forever altered this planet’s history, and this is no exaggeration, hay give me a break, is what I tell about the Dow Jones a lot of yuk yuk yuk McNulty stuff, folks? Really,

is there another MORIANITY, or something even close to it; anywhere else, up on this great and powerful OZERNET????

DOES THIS DUDE KNOW HIS ONIONS OR NOT GINA????????

///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ 1980 KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®

Only the Vatican really understands MORIANITY, and even they are smart enough to keep their mouths shut. Lightning told me last night in Akoslem City, that I better tell the truth and not leave my Morians hanging in there with the Hammonton’s and the Huntington’s, so I must now obey her commands. After-all, she’s my beyond hot and unfathomably awesome baby-blond love of my life, and the third part of a wild triple GODDESS, and no more needs to be said now or ever, or the entire thing will go right into the NUKESON can! Not yet, Mister McNulty, not unless you think a set of stairs in Suffolk County, New York was real funny in the very early seventies as well, old pal from Exton, Pennsylvania! So here I am in my car with a tape playing, while doing guard duty one night, during my STOCKHOLM KIDNAPPING days of latter ohm-8 through most of all of ohm-9. By December of 2009, I thought I had learned the full depravity of my oldest daughter’s sense of humor, I hadn’t. Now laugh if you really are dirt bag enough to want to, MMCN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is like discussing Atlantic City, or Sarah Jacobson, or for that matter; the great United States Government, the Vatican, and the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE. We can talk, we can cry, we can do a Disney cower speed away with Gramps Spears screaming his lungs out in the back seat for an ever greater metal pedal, but all of that, and so much more, I never until just today, really knew just how down right mean and frightening, my kid can be, once something you do pisses her off. There is no grabbing the minute hand, and trying to fling it back; as it is simply a hopeless cause. The difference between doing things via the ES, and just lots of other great parlor tricks; is that all averaged out and then remeasured again, the agonies inflicted upon those victimized by either of these monstrous atrocities that dwarf any concept ever conceived by Hitler, the ES causes way more lifelong everlasting deeper unhealed injuries, after all is said and done, after all the pieces of dog shit are swept up off the smelly floor, and after the fat lady finally sits down, stops writing, stops singing, and keels over like Shelly Winters’ heart attack, after her heroic swim-dive, in that great movie, “The Poseidon Adventure”; the ship named after the true King of the sea, Mister Cavelantisocleevious Krassle, AKA Neptune-Jupiter-Poseidon. Him and his lovely wife, on the Astral-Plane, chase me away from their great daughter, Sarah Stacey Jehovah Krassle, and then I am the bad guy for being the victim of this hellish hyper video-game of the Lawnmower-Man-2 system, for roughly, 1.49720507 times ten to the twenty-fifth trillionth power year equivalent in Astral-Interaction-Event or (AIE), something never measurable to the last drop, any more than we can ever determine an exact relationship of a closed curve (circle), between its through-ness (diameter) and it’s all the way around-ness (circumference). We can say 3.14, or take it out a bit more to say, 3.14159265, but it still never ever stops, yet there is perfect connection, and we can see it with any circle a child of two draws on a piece of paper. So before you tell me there are no mysteries unsolvable, let me first take a good healthy crap into your brain, so that maybe you will think better after that. Who can ever know, with or without those cool ass breath echos, Copyright Examiners, AHA-AHA-AHA? Go back to 1971, Mike McNulty. You’re not welcome here today, on Morianity. Thank you.

Yes, Lightning told me that I must be honest, and tell the truth. I admit I slightly made things appear just razor edge off of perfect truth when I said on a previous blog that Diana is scared to come around me, just as with many others, and I gave the one real good example around the time that Iraq invaded Kuwait, with the Resident Manager Nate, at the Echelon Towers Building of Voorhees, Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG. I’ll bet dimes to cunt sniffing donuts right about now, my old ex-bizz partner PP, is heading straight for his local K-Mart, with his own dirty pants. He must remember the shit I told him through the phone back before he had me rolling on the floor with his voice-mail message that he left me, a year and a half back somewhere in time. He knows I do what needs to be done. He know if you bastards won’t stop hurting me, that I’ll do exactly what is needed, to deal with the situation and take care of bizz, a lot better than he ever took care of making all those millions in the music business, WEEEEENA. Yes there have been a lot of very special and very precious girls in my life, and all anyone has to do is examine the United States Copyright Office records, under the name of MARK WAYNE MOHR, to see that this is all true. I do not get stuff from all of them. They get it from me; unless you want to seriously believe that I am a real live true honest to the gods, T—I—M—E ***** T—R—A—V—E—L—E—R!!!!!!!!!!

Yes ladies and gentlemen, Sarah Jacobson was indeed, a very special girl. Too bad Mister Mackey would not let me run my cassette recorder that day, as a lot more was said in the shadows, than just the great Bob Madison Club of the Teacher’s Lounge, and a few who’s sleeping around with who stories, that go hand in hand with any and all high schools all over the cunt eating country, and most likely, the civilized world. Still, Mister McDowell, maybe I love my calendar girl and my calendars, and you loved taping as much as I did back then, but the real secrets have not even begun to speak out, right oh lovely Karen Upchuck Carpenter-83? Now I know that was not a nice thing to say, and I do sincerely apologize, but it gets the point across, when I do a General Patton, you know; tell it down and dirty. There is not always time for the amenities of niceness, unfortunately, we live in as very mean, nasty, ugly, evil fucking ass world, and you all know this is true!

Now moving on with the topic of the great Goddess Sarah Jacobson, good believers and other folks; I told in the first three years of my blogs, a lot about her, as well as some stuff that all happened. Later of course, I began to realize that this awesome two year old from New York, was able to become this 22 year old super girl at my school. I told you how she already knew about the Watergate days, but never clarified back then, just what she knew and when. The day she first discussed it in quick bursts of a few choice words, was back on the newly built bridge in the late springtime in the year of 1972, telling how 40 days from now, on the 17 June day, as it was then early April on an unusually warm early spring afternoon, this would all happen. Once she said this, I suddenly remembered a dream I had of her just that night, where she was telling Steve the Jock, that she does not kiss boys. Fifteen minutes later, this actually went down in what you would call, real life. Talk about needing the services of K-Mart. I know I had major anti-hacking and ass wiping to do, back at the school. I told how that autumn upon returning to school in late October, I had been beaten up in the same manner as my Cousin Donald had, at a place we need not discuss right now, and instead of the perpetrators being expelled, I was after shit was all blamed on me, and I was then back at special education all over again, upsetting my mother beyond any verbal description. She had been planning this for a while and was hell bent on getting me out of the area, and I think we all know why. It’s been told and told and needs no rehash job at this current time. Melanie Safka the folk music diva was just out with her great song at the time, called, “Brand New Key”. Locked up inside all of this, for all Dan Mackey and I ever knew, was this entire mess still ongoing right to this very minute, and so maybe indeed, and as the great MS said all along, maybe then, I too have this mysterious key. Or maybe I did have it and MS was unaware that ISIS had taken this stuff out of my closet in 1969, at the Dellway Arms Apartments, on Oakland Avenue, in Oaklyn, New Jersey, Apartment O-15, as in Gawky Gaukauk and his letter-number order numerology. In any event, this did not all happen random in some meaningless happenstance grouping of silly coincidental things. Anyone foolish enough to believe this and to discredit the MORIANITY truths that really double as the ADULT VERSION and reprinted BOOK OF THE BEACH, burned by Russell Thaxton that night in middle December of 1969 or maybe it was a little later on, as ISIS has fuzzed out my memories now, for all I know it could have happened right around the time that Dorothea Dario threw my bicycle into the Newton Creek, in early January in 1970. In any event, the hypnotic SUNRAM eclipse, was still a short ways off, taking place in March. Bob Madison was all a part of this, as was John Zane, only in ways totally outside any boxes of rationale. As of this point, I still am putting together possible scenarios of how it all fits together, right down to Zane’s teacher, Mister Ciprionni Ohm. There is so much more to tell about 1969-1971, and the joke is on ISIS, for telling me to tell the blogs more about this as well as the progressing years after this leading up to the song, ‘LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS‘ and the interaction where she sang this song to me, in early June of 1980, and now is more than 33 years back into time. You can wonder about a million things that all link up to all of this, along with the great original interaction and the giant county wide chemtrail that dispersed and dissipated all over the skies above me, on the following morning on that chilly December day in 1969, just half a year after the almighty Misses Marola made sure that I did that school play, so as to be at a precise place and time, later on that day, down in Atlantic City, New Jersey, to hear the mighty and great Sarah say to folks riding in a car that came bolting down Tennessee Avenue, “Your friends are in the shop”. Just tell me this folks, and I know the internet is gargantuan and appears to include the entire world up there. Is there another Morianity or something even close to it, anywhere up on this great and powerful OZERNET???? I would seriously doubt this myself, but admit to not being god almighty. Still, before we do move on with the great SARAH, which caused my poor mother and I to be assaulted and criminally preyed upon in numerous ways almost 24 years in the future, minus a month or two, back on the second day of August in 1996, at the Pathmark Shopping Center of Turnersville, New Jersey, County of Gloucester, Township of Washington, and BOOM, don’t get MOWED DOWN or jacked in by all these incredible backwash, eddy, current SPACE-TIME-MIND symbolism’s, YO folks, and please, is a big ass W-O-W needed right about here?

LIGHTNING LOCATION: YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU DIANA ARTEEMIS, MY BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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STONE HARBOR GAY JETTIES, AND

DAUGHTER STEALING POLITICIANS.

HELP ME PEE , YOU HAVE BEEN OUT OF HERE SINCE 03/29/13, and now it is 02/27/14.

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, DMK!!!

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

YOU NEED TO INVENT THE 74-WORLD PENETRATOR DEVICE. TRY AND REMEMBER THIS, MY GIRL.

I will cease and desist from publishing ‘WB’ if contacted!

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If WordPress deletes part of it, that is fine as well, YO!!!!!!!!

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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. Only, where RU when I need you, oh lovely AG of FLORIDA????????????????? PLEASE!!!!!!

Mizz Bondi, if David Roth were here to be my witness, he would tell you under sworn oath how real this all is, hard as it may be for you to fathom. These peeps have very great reasons for keeping me out of music, and really, a moron can see what’s happening, if he or she would just look and honestly see what is what here, with both their eyes and their hearts. But alas, as I told Lenny McKinnon in 1908, “I ALREADY KNOW HOW THIS WILL ALL TURN OUT”, and no Mizz AG, it ain’t real pretty, nothing like you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

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On Blogger since January 2006

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My blogs

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.

THIS IS DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS BULLSHIT!!!!!

ALL MY PALS OUT HERE, AND OTHERS ALSO, LET’S KEEP IT FREE, WEEEE—-NA, GINA, and Nina; signing off FOR RIGHT NOW, WHAAAAAABIT!!

Don’t beat me up, Dairy Queen Kate; me and that guy in Camden that night, are just doing our best to be us; license tags and all, sweetie pie. Good riddance to 1997, but then, I could say that to any year out of my entire life, except for three of them; these being 1969, 1980, and 1994!!!

FOLKS, IT IS TIME FOR ME TO SERIOUSLY PLAN ON GETTING OUT OF DODGE, AND SAYING ‘HI’ TO THE REAL MAT DILLON; NOT THIS HOLLYWOOD SHIT. OH I FORGOT, WHAT AN ASSHOLE I AM. EVEN MAT DILLON THE GREAT LAWMAN, WAS ‘HOLLYWOOD’; JEESE-LOUISE SURFER FONTY DREAMS, AND NORTH-SHORES, AND CAR-KICKS, ALONG WITH HYPERSPACE CONTROLER MR. MISTER FUCKING ROBERT MCGUIRE?

LEAVE MY EYES ALONE, MICKPUNK PAINTER ESS!

Time to truck on down the tracks, or maybe, just CROSS OVER, oh boy, these two songs from 2012 and 1986 have changed my life in ways not conceivable by mortal man and woman!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

This is a blog paste page, for posting at sites that are not BLOGGER DOT COM. If you wish to read me at this site, with great quality and better photos and more color, etcetera, and are someplace else, just use my link please, and come to BLOGGER.

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

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?

TAPE 25,723

February 27, 2014

MAJOR DEATH ANDROID/ANGEL ATTACKS ALL OVER ME!!!!!

Some really fascinating things are going on all over the hyperspace. As my pal, Bob McDowell said so frequently late in 1972, ”very interesting”. WEEEEEEEEEEEE.

There is no such thing as BLANK ART. I cannot say this enough, nor stress this truth, ENOUGH!!!!!!!! This doesn’t just mean art that is created for the sake of being art, either. All things, no exceptions; it is all in a perfect synchronicity, just as the great genius James Redfield, claimed all along, back in the nineteen-nineties. WHAAA!

MORIANITYmay havebeen a complete fucking failure; but I will trudge along, endlessly; I promise, WOMO!!

***555555555555555555555555***

FEBRUARY 27, 2014,

THURSDAY MORNING AT 12:46,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 68 DEGREES FNHT.

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,723, IN EQUIVALENT.

I just left a parallel universe where a gigantic storm had struck again, and it has here in this one as well, WHAAAAAA-BIT!!!!

But as far as coincidences and the great mighty mind of author James Redfield; wow and double wow, a lot of powerful things are getting clearer and clearer and clearer all the time, lovely INGRID from 1984. Lakehouse Rock Chucking Neck Grabbing Nick, for one thing. My early ohm-9-blogs discuss this powerful experience that I had in a transdimensional altered universe from here, or as you might say it, in my wild ass dream. The problem is that everything is a dream, and until my message regarding that, gets across to this puny little planet, well, that’s all folks, huh Walter Wars? You know, dead or alive, we ‘paramedics of transdimensional hyperspace need to stick together, WHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

I really enjoyed the History-2 Channel shows tonight after an hour with Judge Judy, followed by an hour with L&O-CI. ‘MY’ LAKEHOUSE, not hardly?????? But MI’s LAKEHOUSE, now that’s a Gozzwald-Horse of a totally different grayish color!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hopefully, I’ll be able to get a Google Map to show me every single large million dollar plus lake-house on the American side of Lake MI, right Mister Walker and all postal workers, and giant ESS girls from the ”future”????????????????

NOTHING JUST HAPPENS, NOTHING IS RANDOM, AND STORIES DO INDEED, MISTER MCCOY AND MISTER MCCLARIN, TELL THEMSELVES. HOW GOOD WE ALL ARE OR BECOME, AT INTERPRETING THEM, WELL, SHEEEEEEEEIT, THAT IS ANOTHER OF THOSE GOZZWALD HORSES, ALL TOGETHER, WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Thank you very much, for your note and message to me, Sir Seabottom. I apologize for thinking you may have been my old ex bizz partner, but wild things are going on with me right now, and who can I trust anymore, and who is on the level? Anyway, thank you for being kind enough to reply and give me the news, I do not turn away from truths or bad news, I always welcome it. I am probably one of ”reality’s” biggest fans. I need it, and feel extremely disconnected to everything, without trying desperately, to attach myself always to it. Never be worried about telling me you cannot do something, I was just a bit concerned when so much time went by, but have come to realize that all of us live in our own bubble, with all things, and even our perceptions with time and its interaction with us in our lives. Take any ten peeps and put them in a timeless environment like a casino where for example, they intentionally do not let you see the outside or display any clocks. Take this test experiment to the level of having these subjects stay in a timeless world for 3 days, then 3 weeks, then 3 months, and watch the variances between the average subject’s time perception, widen and widen. 20 years, some would swear was only 5, while others would swear it was 35. This is truth, my friend. I will never stop talking to you about ICPE, this is a major part of my HELL, and has been since August 15, 1986, when lots of really strange crap all started for me and around me, like a cosmic switch was activated, once and for all. It is merely intentionally making a person’s life good or bad, blessing or cursing them if you will, if you have this much power to accomplish such things, and we all know the fortune 500 does; and I claim that they learn about how blessing as well as cursing certain TEST SUBJECTS, here we go again with that term Mister Redfield and Seabottom; but yes, they come to learn that hurting bobby and blessing Sally brings more folks to the Disney Theme park annually. So if you can take advantage of this teck, and have no worries about your demonic activities being discovered, exposed, and anyone held accountable in such unfathomable sounding nonsense, then this indeed gives these bastard pricks a FREE LICENSE to injure and kill, and yes, even to suddenly bless, certain people. Most things big, REALLY BIG, bad or good, are NOT ACCIDENTS, not since the late seventies and into more advanced times, with this powerful tool and weapon, the ICPE!!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about wanting to fucking wash your hands, at any height; David Deezy, and the Hip Hop Rap Gangster Thug World!!!!! Hay, I don’t judge, I just try to do my best to stay away, but as Channel 116 of South Central Eastern Florida Comcast History-2 Channel put it last night; CONTACT IS MADE, AND IT IS FINAL, AND IT IS FAMILY ORIENTED. What they do not know or understand, is anything about the ESS. This is not a bunch of aliens from distant expansion points that access wormholes or any other silliness. This is all EXPLORATRONS of the TYPE-3 advanced section, and nothing is being done for good or for bad, but merely all is a huge GAME, and this is to distract those who know, that there is no way to ever reach oblivion, ”NIRVANA”!!!!

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GINA, GINA, GINA, GINA, YOU KNOW IT GIRL, BECAUSE I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!

And now I get to tell others, like my pal, SEABOTTOM!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh the gods, when folks want to be endless Missourian’s, they will never make good Michigan’s.

What I never did get around to telling you, lovely giant Gina Queen; is about the Exploratronic Supermind (ES), as this was not what you and I were there with each other to do. Two powerful things will be discussed as we get into and past the journal cassette tape numbers 15710, and well into the 15 thousand seven hundred teens, and not teen queens, or good old shows on television. I have my eye on you Robert McGuire, the one you didn’t injure yet, see you in court you PRICK that could rhyme out in at least two other ways that come to mind at the moment, big guy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know all about you, and all the horrible crap you ever did. YIP!

As with any good football game, where a team is planning to win and not just suit up for the fun of it; both offensive, and defensive ball needs to be played. So what is poor old Mountainpen talking about with all of this horse shit; I am quite sure that many by now, are asking themselves, as they must also do quite a bit. I’ll frikkin’ enlighten you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Recently my left eye is all fucked up. Things normally get better for me no matter what happens, as did that other odd condition with the fowl nasal aroma. I have had all ten toes cut off in a printing shop accident decades ago, and they grew back, and I thought that toes did grow back, until I was told they do not. If this is a permanent uncorrectable impish damage, you will be sued, as I have major evidence against you. YIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, going on the offensive, means that you are planning on going into one of your other dreaming-selves in the vast hyperspace; and dominate them without them being privy to it. They do not go unconscious, but merely begin doing some things that they later say to themselves, gee what made me act that way, why did I say, or do; such and such a thing? Ever been there? Say no, and I’ll say, ”You liar”! Then for all of you football and gladiator fans, of the yesterday ghost inside of all of us, huh Demi Sevensign Moore; there is the other side of this ESS hyperspace exploration coin, the defensive. This is learning while here and awake, to recognize, when one of your more advanced hyperspace doubles or doppelgangers, is trying to work their magic on you. After-all, of course this is going to work two ways and in two directions. What fucking road only goes one way? One way streets are a traffic command for vehicles to drive one way or THE OTHER WAY, still, there are two ways, or directions, there is no ONE WAY STREET, merely streets where the law makes it legal to only drive in one direction. Get any of this huge shit yet, when I put it in parables and short illustrations, as did my 61^st grand father’s Uncle Jesus Carpenter, quite a while back, altering the history of this planet, ultra huge time, YO? I have given detailed instructions for using the great FASCITAR-6-10, plus the lost secret art of the waking freeze, getting past the horrendous fear of it, and willing yourself anywhere you want to be, so you can see for yourself that without any doubt, there is not just this life that you all are living in this so-called fucking ”here and now”. I will be repeating this again for those who still do not know how to properly archive it in my blogs of old. Just wait a few blogs down the non Academy Road. That made a terrific song in many parallel universes, and soon, I will give the blog, the words to this song in many universes that I have recently visited my doppelganger in who is awake there. But there is more to Morianity, than Fascitar, and Sarah Krassle, and the truth of the hyperspace and beyond. It cannot be grasped or spoken. I can tell it over and over and over and over. It will not matter. Closed minds will filter it out like any good filter, whether this be in your audio high end apapratus, your car system, your heat or AC systems, and on and on. Only an individual person can decide to wake up TWICE one morning. First, when they wake, and then wake again, by stopping the blocking that is being done by powerful ASTRAL GODS, ALIENS, DEMONS/ANGELS, the names and labels are as meaningless as a pile of huge fucking bullshit. They are, and always were and will be, those who are part of a very super secret society known as the ESS, or Exploratronic Supermind society. This will be further discussed, but unless a person wants to believe, they will remain asleep to the powerful reality and truth of this cosmos and their exact place within it. Nothing is real, it never was or ever will it be. All that can exist if you really think hard on it, is NOTHING, so indeed, NOTHING EXISTS, and we are just all a part of that NOTHING. But there is a way to dream out and away from this, into powerful interactions/dreams/lives that seem very real. We are not really in them, we are just in the VOID. Most cannot handle a small part of TRUTH, and just call me crazy, as they did Jesus and so many others.

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?

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

TAPE NUMBER 25,722

February 26, 2014

All I ever wanted is your happiness, MY, since 1980!!!!

A man is miserable if his kids are not content;WHAT IS HELL?

Only a handful of quantum physicists who have no time to learn of me or my life and read my blogs, would understand them. Those who read them just think I am a total nut case. This is the typical way of the world, even for most people of the non HUNTINGTON CURSED majority. Still, in case a time ever arrives, where someone who knows what I am speaking about in all of these blogs, is indeed up here reading any of this stuff, hay, how are you doing? Hope however that is, it is better than I am doing, at least.

Yesterday around three in the afternoon, an hour before Wall Street closed up at four, the persecution with noise, began, first around just past three, and then again at around just past the half past three era. Anyone can see on the charts, only they change with the magic of the light weight mostly invisible leprechauns; but if you read this and can get a DOW JONES chart for the day of Tuesday, February 25, 2014, anyone can see how they began harassing me at critical times to try and keep it from dropping, only it does not always work, first with neighbor doors, and later with offensive obnoxious loud ugly thumping ‘music’.

FEBRUARY 26, 2014,

WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 12:22,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 64 DEGREES FNHT.

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,722, IN EQUIVALENT.

A DOUBTER WOULD BELIEVE A MAN CAN WALK ON THE WATER, BEFORE BELIEVING THIS!

I just left a parallel universe, where I printed up several varying versions of this sentence, just as I am still doing, Dorothy Twisters. Without a spinning house in a wild funnel of winds, we all do just as the great Judy Garland did in that wonderful original television production. With or without hyperspace wizards, this is done by all of us, all the time, not only by sleeping and waking and then repeating that endless womb to tomb cycle; but even while awake and asleep, we continually slightly alter in the tinyest and unmeasurable atomic frequency that makes us agree or not agree with the rest of atomic cosmos around us. If we go off by a hair, we move into a parallel reality that also matches us by being that same hair off. Still, those who understand some really powerful secrets, know that meditations are intentionally done that can intentionally place us into other words in hyperspace, and even though different verbiage may have been used in those great books in the late nineties, by the mighty father of the New Age Movement or NAM, Mister Carlos Castaneda; just read these books he wrote, and see how basically, we are on the very same page, no pen meant, I assure you, but interesting, huh Mister Berra. There is no such thing as blank-art. You cannot reach randomness and anyone who ever does or says anything, or paints pictures, writes music, books, whatever; they can try until doomsday, but the secret is beyond powerful. That being, that there is no blank art. No matter who does or says what, examine it and the stories get told. Many who totally are aware of this truth, just try and hide in a proverbial cave and wait out their deaths. Stupid move, there is no death. Your one little dream in four and five dimensions exists, as do all of your others, and your real true essence that is you, that escaped the void infinity, lives on the Astral-Plane. This is a super over simplified lesson in truth, but there it is anyway, L-4. I also left a parallel world where I woke up and got into my car and drove to the beach and sat down, and along came a lovely goddess who fell madly in love with me, and I ave a new wonderful girlfriend, making both Gina and Helen Zeb in comparison, look like a bucket of rocks; to quote the Law & Order people. Of course, I crashed and died in others, and millions of various possible things happened in still countless multiples of others. ‘That’s life’, did you say; casino ‘urinator-Frankie’? Well, I’ll agree, if you say, ‘that’s lives’. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!

Thank you for doing whatever you did, to make things better for a while, old pal, Mister McDowell. I am sure only Microsucks Corporation knows what is ‘groping on’, as they might say, one rapist to another, in a daily joke. Don’t think I have not been raped, and molested, and abused, not once, but on five different occasions while in adolescence. Talk about wanting to fucking wash your hands, at any height; David Deezy, and the Hip Hop Rap Gangster Thug World!!!!!!!!!! But more than Microsoft is going down in this rotten dirty mess. All the communication and media giants know my entire story. Oh sure, ”I’m haunted”, right miniature ‘Incredible Hulk’ RPL employee, from late 1979? I would come in to work nights and he was a day shift employee, and I would tell him that I already know what was being planned here with me, when they were up to something that in some way involved me. He was huge with muscles that had muscles of their own, yet this huge dude, looked at my big fat flabby ass with a fear that cannot be properly expressed with words. You really would have had to see this fear in his eyes and on his face, for yourselves, great cyber-folks, to fully appreciate the entire situation. This man had underwear that I do not think I would have wanted to have my nose too close to at that exact point in time, Senator Watergate, six years later in time-point. Wayne Rigsby has a home in New Jersey, about five miles from engineer Ryan’s family, up in Jersey, in some weird parallel universe. About 16 months ago, give or take some days or weeks, something huge happened in this universe, leading me to not be able to record any longer at Avalon Recording Studio, and it all was suddenly changed, and the old reality was gone with the winds of Tara, and Okeechobee, and all her children, on ABC, in the very early 1970’s. This is going to get hairy, and my daughter may just come to me tonight and really kick, the hot living crap out of me, in her great city of SDK, in her true form as Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Anyway, Mister Rigsby was a real police officer, not an actor, in this other parallel universe, or in this wild and extremely vivid dreaming experience some time back; and for the life of me, I just could not make hide nor Donna-Hair of the reasoning for me to be having this experience in any nearby localized parallel reality. Oh Professor Kaku sir, I pray to the gods of Phase-2-Reality, you are with me here, but hold on, you might do a LOBO and fall of your 1974 chair, sir, without any help from a blond that would knock any red blooded male’s socks off, Diana Arteemis, songs or no songs!

YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP AND YIPPIR FOLKS; this is going to get very ugly and very hairy. Miss Blake, if you have not retired from AT&T and have made a career out of your job there since I knew you from the year of 1983; well, listen up should be some remote chance, you too are reading along here. Lions, tigers, bears, or double tigers, all notwithstanding; Miss Blake was the lady in 1983 at the AT&T Annoyance Caller Bureau, in New Jersey. For over 70 times, one of my creditors from Illinois, where Paula Somnambulist Kings’ folks all hail from in her true name-identity; and this creditor calls me and a young voice speaks and says, ”YIP”. That is all, just this. It has gone on now for 4 or more months, and is just like the winter and spring time in Atco, New Jersey. There would be no reason for them to do this. They either would be trying to call and collect their debt from me and leave me normal creditor messages, or whatever, but they would not be doing this YIP YIP YIP stuff for four plus months and 70+ times. Well, I spent a few hours before going to sleep yesterday, discussing this with Gawky Gaukauk. Folks, anyone can legally buy the debts of another, and I have a lot of debts, as you know well, from running away from the great mighty KING FAMILY late in 2009, to come here to Sunny South Central Florida. Companies buy each other out, debt and collection companies sell debts back and forth, and even sell their entire companies, and all of this is old news for anyone who knows about basic new age business of the past 50-100 years or so. You purchase a home and get a mortgage with the Bank of Dogpoopers, and in 6 short months, the homeowner receives a letter that his or her mortgage had been sold to the Sticky Wicky Airglue Corporation clear across the country. You still pay your nut crack each month, just sending your envelope payment to another address. Miss Blake, and all lovely cats and tigers, and Mister Rambo’s and ROBO Cops everywhere; from the Dave Roth Red Odd Black Odd comedian club of 1985 or early 1986 somewhere; straight to the present moment at Shoebox Tablet High School, of hammer-men, all screaming and damming their bosses. A child can see that my funny funny funny Ingrid Sheila Hamburgerhair situation, is anything but, just as Sheila said at the edge of Central Park that night, supposedly in 1968, with or without Donna’s great prophecy or her two dollar return fee from Angela and other motorcyclist friends of this ESS wild group from the gates of HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, if my kid wants to buy out my creditors, fine. Who ever thought I would end up owing a few thousand dollars to the top female pop diva of all times? If Morianity wasn’t one hell of a dam wild tale before, it sure as shit is now, Wayne Badass Father Rigsby. That great show, ”The Mentalist”, and the episode where Rigsby gets into that fistfight with his father, is what is being discussed here, in this haunted hulked out, non 1979 RPL STUDIO nightmare of wild nearby houses, monster chemtrails, and three open reel tapes; and all nearby an old Camden City Park where Big Brother from the BBO John Red Henningsen, and myself, used to launch rockets we put together from a nearby novelty shop. (Big Brothers Organization) In my day it was only a boys club and had big brothers for boys, later on it developed into the more current time system of the Boys and Girls Club, where both big sisters and big brothers are there for both the genders that are in need of a mentor. This is a wild feeling, to think I legally owe my daughter a few thousand dollars right now, very very very awkward, Ingrid. Still, this is not orange box teck here, this is a buy out, and if you remember from that great show, TM, when the fistfight was just shy of starting and Rigsby was already in his dad’s home, he had burned his whole stash of illegal cigarettes, as he was making money buy purchasing them in a state without a sales-tax, and illegally bringing them into California, in the show, and as he walked in the house, he saw his son burning the entire stash, and said to him, ”Did you burn my whole stash boy”, and the CBI Agent Rigsby said right back to him, ”YIP”. If you rearrange the roles of him and his criminal father, and me and my wonderful can’t live without her awesome daughter; you will see this is beyond the Yogi Berra pale of accepting happenstance things and dismissing them. No sir, ”It’s just too coincidental, to be a coincidence”. Yes sir, I agree with you wholeheartedly, Yogi sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MESSAGE TO MYSELF IN THE FUTURE, TAKE THE ADVICE OF RODNEY DANGERFIELD THAT DAY WHEN HE WILL CALL YOUR FRIEND BRAD’S APARTMENT ON THE TELEPHONE, WHEN 1969 RUNS AROUND AGAIN. STAY AWAY FROM THE SHORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO MARK, ”You exist. Time is pure illusion”

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?

TAPE NUMBER HELP ME FCC BOB MCDOWELL, 25,721, NON CALENDARS

February 25, 2014

BOB MCDOWELL, LOTS OF HACKING AS WELL AS TV HACKING WITH MY COMCAST SYSTEM, FCC, REAL BAD, INTERFERING WITH MANY DEVICES. THIS HAS BEEN BAD A FWEW DAYS AND IS NOT LETTING UP, COMPUTER IS REAL BAD LATELY. THANK YOU FOR HELPING IN ANY WAY YOU ARE ABLE TO, OLD PAL FROM 1972 IN DAN MACKEY’S CLASS ON WORMHOLE-HOPKINS-ANGEL LANE!

THE HACKING IS MAJOR. THEY ARE REALLY INTERFERING WITH MY PROGRAMS. THEY KILLED MY WEATHER CHANNEL APP MONTHS AGO BY MAKING ME CLICK ON SOMETHING I SHOULDN’T HAVE, AND NOW EVERYTHING I RUN T SLAPPING DO IS BEING MESSED WITH, OLD BUDDY.

I TOLD YOU JAILED-GINA, AND OTHERS, PERSECUTE ME BADLY ON SUNDAY, AND UP SHE GOES, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

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: Name:theansweristheqyuestion; Location: Hammonton, New Jersey, United States

GINA, GINA, GINA, GINA!!!!!!!!!!!

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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

FEBRUARY 25, 2014,

TUESDAY MORNING AT 3:56,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 66 DEGREES FNHT.

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,721, IN EQUIVALENT.

I just left a parallel universe, without any assistance from super sleuths or hammer men; and you know it is beyond wild; as when I was a boy, at 125-A Haddon Hills recurring Donna Summer nightmare Apartments, of Westmont’s ‘other time and place’; Misses this is why Gaines; I was 4 blocks away from the high school, and as I spoke at the start of more than 8 years of blogs, somewhere, regarding (Hammer Man and Boss Dam), without any help from Sherry-Lee Pote, or Pete, or dreaming Timothy Vicepres; or wormholes at Cooley McDowell Hall connecting 1968 with 1996 tablets, and notebooks, and Wildwood Press Newspapers; and to quote the great Kiefer Sutherland regarding Julia Roberts and Kevin Bacon, ”no hugs and kisses for this”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So where exactly, hacked McDowell, they’re trucking killing me tonight pal; yes, where does MORIANITY connect up to Mister Quantum Dynamics, and can I make a futile attempt to reasonably explain the connection? Well, Annie Cornfield Dreams could take it from here folks, but I’ll quote her anyway. Yes Bob, this hacking is way bad, I do not know if they will let me do this mother fucking document, sir, and FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, ”YOU BET YOUR ASS”, to quote lovely blow-back L&O Annie. The ESS does not want me saying what they fucking cunt lapping know what is gonna’ get said, Tupperware Irene Trump!!!!! Here comes the major FUCKIGN HACK, also, BOBBY, YO!!!!

No, you don’t own my fave color, miss Postcards. Jesus fucking Christ, these assholes all make me sick to my Misses Moldoff chained stomach, Rodney and Brad!!!!!!!!

Computer, MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, you fucking cunt eating know what to do, and you know when to do it, hate me so much FBI, how about hating mother fucking molester Tom Reale, you fucking worthless pricks in Texas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Back burners and gymnasiums huh, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEITTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every mother fucking time I don’t look at the screen and type in the word FUCKING, it comes fucking out FUCKIGN! Quantum observation, Professor Kaku???????????? Well in any event, YO, let us hook Morianity up a bit with the HIGS PARTICLE, and ASAPS, and all of it, from 1979, Professor Jackson!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gimme’ a break Mizz Leo-85.

I was staring at DIANA, or said perhaps a lot better, I am always mentally staring at my big lovely blond; but that is neither HAIR NOR THERE, ANDY GAINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These universes are very non-localized, and the connectiveness to all of them, inside of human brain activity, during subconscious states, is associated by shrinkologists of this dinosaur period, as, ”too much pizza and ice cream before bedtime dreams”. Yes, drugs like Chantix or too much wild food before bedtime, can indeed, lead us into some of the more distant locales in hyperspace where cars can instantly turn into pumpkins, Apartments can zip back and forth in time without Hypernick Pumpkindink needing to invisibly send MOVCOMS or Football Leprechauns to Cifaloglio to get me to accidentally play a tape on an auto reverse side that never would have otherwise, or have Anthony Spitcereal Dunpdriver leave magazines right where I as the guard could not help but to stumble onto them. Yeah I’m saying this to you boy, and you don’t bring me any thrill and joy, I promise you that, TRAVELERCAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh the gods, Ronald Wirtz Senior, what have you done to me big guy, sending me on this suicide fucking mission to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, miles away from a place called, non Roddenberry Camden, New Jersey, with or without any ESST, or Exploratronic ”Supermind Society Travelers”. FUCKIGN FUCKIGN FUCKIGN FUCKIGN, what’s his problem, DOC-84? What’s all of your fucking problems? These pricks are killing me, Professor KAKU, how I envy you LABBERS, none of you have to take your fucking work home with you every night. The joke is most likely on me, as you all may just end up envying me, and WOW is that a mother fucking error in your judgment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JEESE LOUISE FONTY!!!!!!!

Thirty thirty Plaza Place Toyland Emit Reverse, my grass mole, Pope. You know this is all true and real, not the present ”Your Eminence”, did I say, your M, Jesus Christ Mister Redfield, we have morianity, auntie Em from Oz, and about two hundred other things but time runs too frikkin’ ass short tonight, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

”Cooocooo-cachu” yourself; Misses Jesus Robinson!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tablets off, Lenny; I have better things to do than boat ride you thousands of mother fucking miles, YO!!!!!!!!! Mile High Coaster, SHEEEEEEEEEIT, do it again Margie Leo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now for the synchronicity discussion, as well as why change what seemingly was meant to go onto my blog, as the newest experiment in James Redfield Synchronicity of Life? Well let me take this to the next step, peeps. Morianity once had a Mickey-Mouse little website, called the Morianity-Foundation. Lack of money and many other powerful ESS shit, closed it all down. My endless lacking in funds all my life, IS OF COURSE, ALL EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY RELATED, ANIWHO, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I tell it all, as Morianity has no secrets. The void, the dream out, the 7 dimensional system, the ASAP, the Lawtrons, the subatomic spiritual realer existence that many in the new age and always in private, have labeled the ASTRAL-PLANE, and on and on and on I could freaking go, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told how the Shah of Iran was friends with my wonderful Aunt Geraldine, wife of my moms brother, Stuart Huntington Mason. I told what happened in Atlantic City, Haddonfield, and Hammonton. Only those who want to see Jesus walk on the Water and Walker Streets of Philly underneath lovely Interstate-95, do. Allothers see and hear whatever makes their little boats float better and gets them through the long night hours without another fucking Dawn King 6-Pack! The story has been told, and just because I could make it the size of Mount Everest, changes nothing. You will choose to believe me, OR YOU WILL CHOOSE NOT TO. Gee, I wonder what the future is here; prophets and psychics, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!! You see peeps, learning how to be a prophet and predict what you totally know will come to pass, is 99 mother fucking percent of the shit. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?

TAPE 25,720

February 25, 2014

I TOLD YOU JAILED-GINA, AND OTHERS, PERSECUTE ME BADLY ON SUNDAY, AND UP SHE GOES, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

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: Name: theansweristheqyuestion; Location: Hammonton, New Jersey, United States; SHEEEEEEEEEEIT, DAWN-MARIE AND DAD, I KEEP TELLING FOLKS ABOUT ICPE, EVEN SEABOTTOM-PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

This is definitely NOT Thursday, August 03, 2006, and a re-print of (JC TAPE EQVT #25,705) However it is indeed the twenty-fourth of February in twenty-fourteen, at 22 minutes shy of freaking eight of the clock in the darn evening. This also is not Chapter 49:

Still, you Just go right on calling me Poor-Whittle Ugly Old Joe Shmo, Who’s Out of ‘his’ SPACE-TIME-MIND, as this always applies!!!!!!!!

My guru friend Ed, told me about the old cartoon comic character called Joe Schmo; the dude with the eternal black cloud hanging over his head. He winked and didn’t say anything more on the subject, but his brain was still advancing. His thoughts were going, ”yeah, and I know who he really is, poor old mucked up MOUNTAINPEN. That’s Joe Schmo’s real friggin’ identity, only like with many of Victoria Winters’ and Victoria Callio’s great secrets; people all have built some intensely fierce closets, for hiding all of these pleasantries in, and forever; if they have their darn say and way! OH GINA, THEY JUST WON’T LISTEN TO ME, THEY JUST WON’T BELIEVE ME, MY LOVELY GIANT ARM BREAKER!

‘W—O—W’ AND

‘MORIANITY’,THE QUINTESSENTIAL SYNONOMOUS TWO WORDS, IF EVER THERE WERE ANY, AND I PROMISE YOU THAT,WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!

GINA, GINA, GINA, GINA, YOU KNOW IT GIRL, BECAUSE I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!THE MILITUFAWCES, MISTER FRIKKIN’ HALL, MADE MY WEEKEND QUITE HELLISH. IT IS ALMOST SUPER COOL TO KNOW THE FUTURE, BASED ON PATTERNS AND CONNECTIONS THAT REMAIN ENDLESSLY INVISIBLE TO THE REAST OF FREAKING BLOODY SHOE HUMANITY, WHAAAAAA-BIT!!! Please try remembering at all costs and all times, folks, all things that appear to be either distant space travel, or any kind of time travel, is a PURE TOTAL PARLOR TRICK, at least in this IAC, Mister Gore, sir!!!!!!!! Just because little nobody’s like me, one night at Cifaloglio, don’t know how these magazine and auto reverse tricks were all done to me by the powerful laughing football leprechauns of Ireland; does not mean that it is still not a glorified Sarjenka-trek huge-ass parlor-trick. I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, and would never dare say THAT, as only the Almighty GODDESS ISISCYLLA SSJKK can make such a claim!!!!

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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

FEBRUARY 24, 2014,

MONDAY NIGHT AT 8:00,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 70 DEGREES FNHT.

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,720, IN EQUIVALENT.

I just left a parallel universe, where a gigantic southern storm had struck the furthermost south; and Florida was deeply covered in snow for the first time since humankind settled here and in this universe. Studio Park Records was still operating, and this was a number of days back, perhaps a week, maybe a tad longer, nothing matters, not events, not time, nothing, because the only thing that is real is THE VOID, and this is US, and we all DREAM OUT AND AWAY FROM THIS GREAT VOID, and this is also known by us, as CREATION. It is a very apropos word, our dream out is indeed, one hell of a quantization of ultimate creation. Knowing this or believing this is not enlightenment. KNOWING IT SO ABSOLUTELY THAT YOU BURST YOUR GUTS OUT INSIDE, 24-7-365.2422, THAT’S THE EQUATION, GREAT LURCH ROCKDROID, THE EQUATION OF ENLIGHTENMENT! Forget about all those old ones and new ones, even substituting ONES for KIDS, clueless KIM WILD, WHAAAA!

DEEDEE WAS ALL OVER ME BEFORE I WENT TO SLEEP. I was staring at DIANA, her lovely bright colorful full moon, you know, the Mitsubishi recognized, new beauty in town, for all old and new kids from early in 1978. Suddenly a strange vehicle pulled over and parked right across Avenue B, crossing also over Seventh Avenue, and no one lives right there, and no one exited the vehicle, and it remained there with the lights off for five to ten minutes. In trillions of countless parallel universes, this car blew up like a huge bomb was inside of it. In trillions of others, it turned into a big pumpkin, these universes are very non-localized, and the connectiveness to them inside of human brain activity during subconscious states is associated by shrinkologists of this dinosaur period, as, ”too much pizza and ice cream before bedtime dreams”. Still in trillions of others, President Obama got out and threw a brick right threw my apartment window, and is still countless others, so did my wonderful daughter. No normal person has any respect for hyperspace and its vastness. They know only of one single song or vibrating single verse or uni-verse. But the multiple verses of vibrating singing hyperspace or the FIFTH DIMENSION, is so vast, that Einstein and 1000 others like him can understand the principles to hyperspace, yet never ever grasp the real truth to such unfathomable immensity. I am lucky to know what I know, and that is all that I know, I am no Kaku, Hawking, Sagan, or Einstein, order and list printed in no way reflects any order of anything in this blogger’s opinion, just randomly printed herein. Now in the universe I still believe myself to be interacting in right this dam ass minute, Admiral Spock sir; I believe what happened that night was this, ”Suddenly a strange vehicle pulled over and parked right across Avenue B, crossing also over Seventh Avenue, and no one lives right there, and no one exited the vehicle, and it remained there with the lights off for five to ten minutes; then drove away. Maybe some dude picked up some ho and got a fucking quick-off and drove away, as they would do all the time, back in my neck of the woods, in a place called, non Roddenberry Camden, New Jersey, with or without any ESST, or Exploratronic Supermind Society Travelers”. You can check your own past copies of Morianity, who knows, I sit here doing a lot of transdimensional music copying and messing around, changing by many minutes per day, the rate that normal regular time passes in this apartment, just from one corner of it to another. But I don’t think things have altered that much, WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No Mister Macy, I am all through glorifying your family name, at least for a little while, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Now for the synchronicity discussion that I am positive all the more intelligent of my reading group are waiting to hear from me on. Don’t you dare laugh or call me a liar, James T. Burr, or Michael McNulty. DON’T YOU DAM ASS DARE, YO!

I swear to my infinite hell, if I be lying; let my hell get a million frikkin’ times worse and last for a million times more infinities than what is already on my pathetic fish plate, Sarah Stacey Krassle, my wonderful awesome Almighty Viqueen Leader, and Almighty Goddess of this entire multiverse!!!!

I randomly let a number from 1 to 600 just slip into my mind, and then that would be the SAFE JOURNAL blog that I was going to reprint and post on my past blog, that was indeed posted, as JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,719. My brain was instantly seeing the one-hundred group, and then I quickly and totally randomly said to myself, the number 61, so that made it number 161. But remember now; this was in the SAFE JOURNAL chapters of my blog. Not all of these even were on this NEW BLOG, that my computer guru, Meagan, helped me start, after that mess that ended my ability to blog at blogger dot com on my old set of 5 blogs that you all see re-posted with bullets, to be archived by anyone at any time. But anyway, this was what was originally supposed to be re-printed by me, onto the previous blog, when I said, now at pure random, I will re-post a blog from the SAFE JOURNAL chapters, and thought I did. Well let me stay totally truthful in all of this. After I started to paste it in, I saw the MORIANITY word in large black font, and realized, this was not even the SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS at all, but blogs that were started after I had brought all of those to a closing conclusion. Then my mind said, hay, talk about staying totally random here; we will now just go with this, after-all, I had pasted it all in and was just about to post up. Why change what seemingly was meant to go on, as the newest experiment in James Redfield Synchronicity of Life, and no, nothing to do with the meaning or the moaning of life, Professor KAKU and Science Channel, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, somebody said WOW, and it was me, and no one from good old New York, weelwee wabbit. We’ll get into a lot more later, but I am hungry and tired from a hard day, and need to eat and crash, and watch a little TV before doing so. So as my old pal would put it from quite some time ago, and I quote him, ”THAT’S ALL FOLKS”, at least 4 now!

HA-HA-HA JANE PAIN WISHYAWERESLAIN. YOU MUISSED ME, WITH YOUR DIRTY ROTTEN PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, AND FOUR NASTY ASS ONES!!!!!!! 5555555555555555

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THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?

Tags:EVERYTHING IS A BIG COSMIC TRICK, PROFESSOR KAKU
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TAPE 25,719

February 23, 2014

WOW DOES MY LIFE TRUCK, SO TRUCK IT. WELL TO QUOTE STEVE MCGINTY FROM 1977, ALL I CAN DO IS ‘KEEP TRUCKING’; UNTIL COSMIC FORCES DECIDE TO EVENTUALLY RELEASE ME FROM THIS HORRENDOUS, EVIL, AND WICKED NIGHTMARE, THAT OTHER PEOPLE CALL, ”THEIR LIVES”.

Mack Kaiter at Camp Chesapeake, washed my mouth out with soap for using lots of profanity, back in the summers of 1967 and 1968, in middle July. If he were here, he would need a huge bar for my brain. I am under a neighborhood siege, with fire alarms one after the other, verifiable I am sure by those who know how to do such things, also doors are booming over and over and these lovely brother hucksters are making a lot of noise around here. It goes on real rolls, periods where things are quiet and they seem to all be gone, and then these other times, of pure H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS, LENNY BRISCOE THIRD GRADER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just love my runt slapping situation. I am so flock ducking happy. I am also the KING of sarcasm, Dawn and Mashell, at least in your minds. You’re entitled.

FEBRUARY 23, 2014,

SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT 3:43,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 87 DEGREES FNHT.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,719

BANG, SLAM, BOOM, IN, OUT, IN, OUT, IN, OUT, duh I’m wetahded and don’t know which side of the door to stay on, whaaaaaa.

Before the two back to back fire alarms earlier, nightmares were real bad. My family, my kids, all of it, you don’t need to know so don’t even bother asking or wondering. But one thing was there for most of the experience. My wonderful lovely precious bright copper colored full moon seemed to just follow me everywhere. She was always just there no matter what hell that I was experiencing. I’d look over either to my right or to my left, and there she would be, shining with her soft glow of awesome wonder and delight, and I could her hear tellingf me right inside my mind the entire time, ‘It’s OK little boy, I’m watching over you’. Diana, my endless love; I KNOW YOU ARE, GREAT GODDESS AND HUNTRESS. These rat scum are shouting and screaming like there is no tomorrow out there. I may have to call CRINE STOPPERS or just simply 911, as this is ridiculous. This day is of course super botbar, what else is runt slapping new with my ‘whore-a-bull life’ and ‘sub vampiric existence’?

Most of twenty-fourteen has been super botbar hell. There is nothing new any longer, there really are no mother trucking shock factors to be concerned with. No matter what happens, it is like, oh right, here we go again, in or out of 2006 Old Testament Morianity books. SLAM SLAM SLAM, sick twisted uncouth barnyard total pigs, brother!!!

My noisy crude nabes are being very noisy all morning and into this afternoon as well, with many doors and lots of hallway yelling. This of course is going to be making their evil crooked DOW JONES, shoot up like a rocket tomorrow, Monday, and is all what Seabottom Jamesbond and others have wanted details about, the Milituforce intentionally creating parallel events, in order to achieve, stealthfully and covertly; their objective of an endless flying stock market, year after year after year, and since 1986 through now, look at the difference over 1986 and going back to where these markets began. The difference is officially standing there forever to be chart-archived, and will prove my claims cannot be anything short of true and accurate and real. Still, if someone wants to claim a water walker is doing a parlor trick, and just refuse to believe their own perception of reality, who can ever hope to convince them otherwise? A closed mind is a lot like a closed safe that is air tight, containing five hundred million dollars worth of jewels and cash. A lot of potential is there, and yet you are only going to lay in there and slowly exfixiate, and then die, with nothing. I fear a closed mind with every bit of passion and emotion as this hypothetical closed valuable safe of equally potentially capable of delivering a tomb doom for the one stuck inside of it. Now that is something to begin to scratch heads over; try not to bleed to much on the carpet.

Well, if things stay bad around here, maybe I’ll go out and cat around a little bit and if the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE is dumb enough to start the air shirt up with me, then the cat-flirtations begin, and I’ll take advantage of it and get myself a few nice girlfriends. That’ll knock the stock market down about 3-7 kilo-points over the next few weeks, so hopefully, they’ll start backing this crap off of me, good folks.

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I have not had any time to perform any GAWNUN Q&A. When I get some answers from Gawky Gaukauk, I will tell the record and keep this journal abreast and apprised of all situations that pertain to this. You may take that straight to the Bank of the World, Uncle Heinz Babylonian Gottwald of Peninsula Drive, before you croaked in when else, but in the year I was trumped once and all, 12 plus 7 and then, and then 12 times 7, also known as (AKA) 1984, and non 30 Place Plaza’s of South Atlantic City and middle Atlantic city, in good old New Jersey, USA.

Oh the darn gods. You can show them and tell them and bang heads on a wall and end up in prison for it, but it will not alter the closed mind of a skeptical Missourian. I am not for one minute insinuating that peeps should be easy targets and marks for every rotten carney out there waiting in a long line to take them to the Jefferson cleaners, all 7, and ‘one near you’; but I AM saying that folks love to discount things, that seem impossible; no matter how many of David smith’s blackboards are existing all around them, from 1971’s lovely leaf foliage autumn, all the way to present times of pure yuk. If anyone out here does not think my life sounds like a total crazy fish tale, you underestimate my love and pledge to reality. But I love reality to the point that I will accept what seems totally surreal, if all the evidence insists and screams out, that this is so. Yeah, fish stories indeed, nice fresh pales of them on Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetties. Talk about the epitome of transdimensional reality being all around our daily lives, completely invisible to us all. So am I correct here, my old pal, Professor KAKU, or am I NAUT, Miss 1983 AT&T BLAKE, from the Annoyance Caller Bureau? YIP, things change so little in a third of a century. Only those with non-mortal lives would be doing the same thing over this kind of a stretch in time. That also is reality, as well as pure unadulterated LOGIC, Leonard Spock! Well Jane Pain Bane Witch Sludge; you struck me again with page-eleven, of eleven, and so I will put up some pretty and large nice fives in order to compensate for ugly you.

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Now at pure random, I am going to select a SAFE JOURNAL and paste it in, just to see how things connect into right now. Don’t be too quick to scoff at these things, folks. Doctors just a short time ago did not know they should WASH THEIR HANDS before touching a patient. You cannot see and perceive germs with the naked eye. As I speak, a nasty airplane just flew low and loud over my place, just FOR THE RECORD, © Office Examiners, in case you’re at all interested. And they say history doesn’t repeat itself, General Patton old pal. We know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Oh the gods, ladies and gentlemen, if this was not all happening to me; I would be the first man at the gate with road maps to Missouri, to live out my life there; happy and healthy, and right there at 25^th Street and Orange Avenue, and Light-bulb-hack intersections. There are some houses in New Jersey right on or near five way intersections, so don’t yuk it up to loudly now, Mike McNulty, sir. Some like tall teens, and I like Walgreen’s, but am smart enough to know when I am a mark, and to get away from the CARNEY BIG TOPS, huh Patty Jane and David Roth the Latengrate???????????????????

Well I am going to post that random Safe Journal up now just to see where it takes us, McCoy and McClarin, or even Clariton clear, Finally I’m free, with 123 Lover ripoff songs, and try to be a real good boy. Maybe my wonderful kid will do the same, only the gender needs be reversed of course, © Office. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

[ 11 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Real good girl.

PAu000881543

1986

2:44 AM-EDST, 15 AUGUST, 2013, THURSDAY

MORIANITY

PART 5, CHAPTER 00161

**********STARTING THIS TRANSMISSION, YO:**********

‘FOR THE RECORD’, This is neither 1984, OH GREAT UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE, nor is it 1986; PRAISE ALL THAT IS HOLY AND UNHOLY IN THE QUANTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTLET ME STILL STATE FOR THE RECORD, THAT YES, IT IS NOT 1988 AND I AM HERE, EVEN STILL, WITHOUT BEING THE PROPHET OF THE GREAT VOID NOTHINGNESS, but I AM stating for this official record, a few facts. My WOMO-M2F enemies will not like what I say, but then SOSO-WEIN???????????????????????

WOW, this will be very short, but very GOOD, YO!!!

First off, some nasty CHEMTRAILING was ongoing yesterday, Wednesday, especially out to my east over the water. I was not there, but I was out and about, Mizz Buttwipe Jennie Plageman Crappants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to purchase a few things, I got a BOGO BREYERS ICE CREAM rain check from my local Fort Pierce Publix Store, as they were out of my flavor, Mint Chocolate Chip, cannot escape it can I, just as Scylla said, huh Boo and Letty???

Then I purchased a few dollars of junk at the Good Will Store and the Staples, and yes, that WAS easy; just as THEY say, ”BUT”, time is a strange little duck, and I know my blogs discussed that fuzzy ‘in-between place’, nice to hear that my pal Morgan and his pals are starting to catch on in the great mighty Scientific Community. Totally unescapable initials, all the way around, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, SKY!!!!!!!!!!

I also bought just a few other whittle grocery items, that I needed, for the rest of good old hot as hell fire cubed AUGUST. Yes sir/mahm, good old month number eight. A total of four very young lovely females were very freaking flirtatious with me and would not stop staring and smiling at me, both inside the stores, and outside while walking in this outside large shopping mall at Virginia Avenue and Federal Highway US-1. This is because of relentless attack now that just will not ever back off for a week or even 3-5 days, and eventually, this Harry freaking Potter mysterious parallel event, just kicks in every single time. Just give it sufficient time, and no matter how old and ugly I am; and my photo is up for the world to see; and it basically is still a 100% likeness to me, as I have not changed any since it was taken; but I seem to never stop getting these wild days of what I will admit to not being all that polite and gentlemanly in my description of this crazy never ending event, ”PUSSY-COMMAND”. I really honestly fail to know what else to describe this as, in politer terminology and verbiage. It just perfectly fits and describes the situation that I have noticed now since about 1991 if my memory is clearly in tact, and operational; as it normally is with most things; when the great ‘TAWF’ isnot involved, with their supernatural powers of countless bizarre unexplained mysterious contacts, since the year of Lois Foca 1980; and that is possibly a fallible time illusion, as this situation goes far beyond anything that anyone on this planet could ever realize. I am screwed before I pick up the nail box folks, because a less famous than the Bermuda Triangle is part of all of this horrific bullshit. It is the enlightenment/genius/insanity triangle, as indeed, these three items when at their maximum, exist as three points in a non-separable triangle, no matter who may challenge this truth. Oh, and I did not make that up, should this by chance lend any additional credibility to that statement. If I cared the least little bit, I could have at least one if not more of these very super red hot young flirtatious dishes that were chasing me, kitty-kitty; as my personal girlfriends. However, fighting the WOMO-MILITUFORCE is a full time job, and my interest in women has never ever gone beyond the hour and day thing, and wow; I honestly cannot believe that I just typed that and plan to blog it, on this no-no date, and if this won’t cause you a heart attack, Morgan Freeman, old pal, sir; I honestly do not know what will, so careful, steady, take an aspirin and a nice cool drink of water, and just relax and breathe; should you be reading these words ever. I really love your television show on the Science Channel, ‘here we go again’, ALL KIDS, old and new! Super super super INGRID WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Major Complaints will be told to AT&T, about my not being able to talk on the phone, with my buddy Mikey; without continuous loud beeps. I never had this problem before adding their dam ass internet to my service, and changing from Comcast. On my old plan, as with always, I had no trouble canceling my ‘CALL WAITING’. They will not even allow the ‘flash’ to work on my phone, or the star 73, or whatever it is. Nothing works to stop this harassment, yet I pay these mother fucking bastards, and ON TIME, every month; and this is what I get from peeps that have their stock trading on WALL STREET, and are on the DJIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I asked ‘GAWKYGAUKAUK‘why Tuesday was so mother fucking SUPER SUPER BOTBAR, and WOW, I got the PCN of 871, my own PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER (PCN). All really loyal MORIANS know many of the already listed PCN-871 listings from my match-book list, as I have posted them to my blog, and many may very well know a lot of them that I have yet to uncover myself, WHAAAAAAAAABIT!!

My dirtball nabes across the mother fucking ‘HALL’, are beyond nightmarish, horrible, evil, twisted, and mysterious. I know they have a drug gang, as peeps are continually in and out of the apartment all night long, not all nights, but some nights; and this night is one of those nights. Gee I wonder why, Bob McDowell Phonetaped Calendars, of 1973. AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So what reason in all possibility, could the Fort Pierce Housing Authority, have against running that drug dog up and down the HALL; as was suggested by my Resident Manager, Mrs. Moratto? Well, I bet I can think of one or two or three thousand and seven, starting with the Warren-Boo Hood connection. Lots ‘ODF’ folks are so ignorant to the truths about Florida, and the great ’95’ or AKA DRUG ALLEY. All the towns on the east coast where the great highway of grant-glands is on; have real bad drug hoods. It is a serious out of control problem. People are being shot every day all over, and when I first got down here in December of OHM-9, this was not anywhere this bad. More ‘TAWF-TIME-TRICKS’, and for future reference, we will shorten and abbreviate this term I just made up right now, to ‘TTT’. I know my nightmare will happen, you all know what it is. I GET STABBED HERE IN FLORIDA. There’s no escaping this sealed fated fucking destiny. I don’t die, but that’s because I cannot die and stay dead, Duma Argon. Thanks for getting me into all of this, BUDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try not to lose your head over it. I am just up set tonight, and sick and fucking tired of this 30-60 year TOTAL HELL!

THANKS FOR HELPING ME RON WIRTZ, PAM BONDI, AND ALL YOU LOVELY CREEPS IN MY VERY DISHONEST GOVERNMENT. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT’S PLAYING OUT, AND IT’S NOT THAT YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT, BUT IN TRUTH; YOU WILL ALL BE GLAD TO BE RID OF ME SOMEDAY, WHEN WOMO FINISHES THE JOB, ONCE AND FOR ALL. BAD MISTAKE. THAT IS JUST WHEN MY WRATH WILL BEGIN ON THIS PUNY LITTLE ASS PLANET, THE SECOND I AM MURDERED AND STAY DEAD. SCREW ETERNITY. I WILL HAUNT YOUR EVIL WORLD WITH UNSPEAKABLE DISASTERS FOR A MILLION YEARS, UNTIL THE NEXT ASSHOLLOID SMASHES YOU ALL OUT WITH THE DAM DINOSAUR’S. I have been patient and waited this out for a very long time, mortally speaking, cosmically a water drop in the Pacific Ocean. Still, my patience is not running thin, it has totally run out. All I have to do my wonderful enemies, is just keep dubbing transdimensional songs back and forth, and you will see shit around you day after day that will make you come and beg me to back off. All I’m doing is asking you all nicely not to push shit with me to that point. YOUR FREAKING MOVE, the ball’s in your cock knocking courts!!!

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THIS IS MORIANITY,PART FIVE,AND PLEASE BELIEVERS AND L-4 FOLKS, TRY AND HAVEYOURSELVESAVERY VERY NICEDAY.

YOU ARE CONTINUING TO READCHAPTER00161. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! August 15, 2013, 3:42 AM-EDST, THURSDAY MOR.

Shortly past 8 of the mother fucking ass clock tonight, my scum bag nabes began to persecute me, and indirectly; did me a huge favor; verifying something Resident Manager Debbie Marotto told me, as well as helping me to reach a conclusion regarding something that happened shortly after their cunt eating arrival here, near the 2011 Christmas helliday-holiday season; where they called me the ”radio singer” out in the hallway, but I’ll admit to not being totally sure how the two universes came together; and this was told about and blogged, shortly after the incident, in some full detail; but we’ll reexamine fucking shit again now.

First off around half past seven or so, strange loud annoying fucking sound began to emanate from not the normal place; yet it all does connect in many strange and powerful fucking ways. I don’t need to blog the entire situation as it is not relevant to the shit I want to tell you all about with tonight’s major nasty neighborhood fucking attack with these hip hop ghetto fucking ass thugs. The fucking jerk offs above me are in some way, also in communication with that bitch across from me, and lots of doors are still slamming away as I type this message now at ten past nine, and tomorrow, I’ll be speaking to Debbie Morotto personally at her office here in the building as she is here normally on Wednesday’s, SLAM BANG BOOM; it is a real bad fucking attack here, Pam Bondi, Florida Attorney General; but you ain’t fucking heard diddly squat yet, YO!!!!!!!!!!! First off, I knew the market would fly today as it did, and I also knew lots of shit was about to begin, and more yet will be coming, and you do not need to mother fucking be some rocket asshole scientist to figure out why, merely someone with a memory and a pair of eyes, and a calendar hanging up on one of your god dam fucking ass walls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A simpleton sitting in a torture booth inside a Hitler Oven, could recognize what is going on, and even why recently I have watched my viewing audience dwindle down to about 30 percent of what I had for most of this year of 2013. When they know you have enough stuff to prove really far out fucking shit, EVEN THE WOMO BEGINS TO FUCKING GROW A BIT CONCERNED, YO DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes there’s one hell of a fucking Richie Ryan 1406 Cinnaminson, New Jersey 1984 party going on around me tonight, but that is nothing; not next to what I am about to tell you all, BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First off, I never told you all the shit about how to pull off a lot of these parlor tricks in time, and I also never told you what I saw in 2022 while being the parent of some cheer leader daughter who I have never seen before in all of my hyperspace travels, so it is not real localized hyperspace that I was moving in where that wild Google-Repair computer program was running, and wiping out hacks on a computer in the den of one of my more distant hyperspace doppelgangers. I told you I saw the computer and knew exactly what was going on, and I saw the calendar that read the year 2022, but I did not tell you that after my wife and I had removed the latest hack that was inside of the machine, we went to the website that is now defunct here in this universe, but that I had up for two years, called, ”Morianity-Foundation”. After we had gone there to post something up, we went to a private site that we owned, where we stored some information about our roulette playing, and this was my occupation over there ever since 1986, when I began playing it professionally over here in this parallel reality. The only difference was that over there, I was never wiped out by a WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE, and was still playing. We had designed and built four strange machines, kind of androids, that were permanently affixed to wheelchairs, manikin type hollowed out bodies with a very super advanced robotic program running them. The wheelchairs allowed them to be mobile, and extremely life-like face masks were molded over the manikin faces. They had thick eyeglasses made with large frames, wig hair, and looked and passed for humans. They spent their entire lives in casinos all over the world, just playing a roulette system that I will not talk about right now. It is way too fucking major and beyond believable. To say it kicks royal mother fucking ass is a major clit chewing understatement. Then every few days, they take the winnings and wire transfer them into a secret offshore bank account in the name of my wife and myself. In this other universe, I remember my wife’s name, it was Merinda. Her maiden name was Hall. Now before going on further, she was telling me how many things were not being properly recalled by another me who ‘she met in a strange way, by recently experienced powerfully lucid dreams’; an exact quotation. I came to learn she was talking about the year of 1969, and my pal Brad Messenger, his girlfriend Diane, and also, another friend of his and neighbor, Cindy, and also, Roseann. She was reminding me how the great comedian of the times, Rodney Dangerfield, used to call his apartment, and ask for Brad’s mom, Grace. When I got talking to her about how once I answered while Brad was taking a crap, and it was as though it was all cosmically arranged, as he wanted to warn me not to go to Atlantic City that summer, to stay away from the shore, to quote him exactly, and how a lot more was involved in all of this, right down to the movie that he went on to star in eleven years later in 1980, with the initials of Sarah Callio. All I am safe to tell and say right now, is that this all connects up to what I’m gonna’ tell you all next, even though you may scratch your heads and say to yourself, how can it possibly; only it fucking does; so trust fucking me, YO! When Ann King said to me, a year and a half ago and then a little; that she sent me several cassette tapes, as well as CD’s; she really did, and that indeed; ‘BOO’ somehow who was instrumental in getting these hip hop thugs into that apartment across from me; and then had them somehow pay off the mail carrier, to accidentally deliver the package to their slot, as in this building, if something sent to a resident is bigger than the normal mail slot, the key to a numbered large-box of which there are about 10 of, down a hallway on the first floor, is placed into your mail. The key is numbered, so you simply use it to retrieve your package and then when you close the box, the key remains attached and only the mail carrier has some way of removing it. It is quite a clever little system for a rat-hole place like this. My daughter has caused me nothing but grief ever since 2008 when she made it unmistakably clear to me through her music project, that something was going on, and then as time went on afterward, came all the fucking dreams, and then the eventual kidnapping by her distant family relations, the Kings, and others behind it all as well. What was done to me is beyond unforgivable. What still is being done to me is unforgivable squared. And all of it together is nothing less than criminal, and yes, my rotten filthy cousin Donald is involved in it all up to his eyeballs, and has been since this all began in 1984, reverb added to monster tunes or NAUT, Miss AT&T BLAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In closing for now folks, I will be leaving this evil rotten mother fucking country within a week, and you do not need to know one more fucking thing. Before I do leave, the story of my mother will be printed up and Morianity will end forever. Thanks for nothing for helping me out, Attorney General Bondi, and President Travelama!!! You see peeps, when they have all the power, and you have none whatsoever, basically, and in a total nutshell,

YOU ARE TOTALLY SCREWED!

THIS IS A RE-POST COPY ON MY OPEN OFFICE W.P.

WHY SHOULDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE???

“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”

(The epitome of harassment, internet version) (The millionth-council and me) (Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape) DATFILE: 021809.951

I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is really part of a hyperspace equation from the year of 2022. SLAM-SLAM-BANG-BOOM; AND AT MIDNIGHT PLUS ONE, I CALL 911. THIS IS A MAJOR FUCKING PILE OF PIG SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MORIANITY PART FIVE, CHAPTER 00161

THURSDAY, 15 AUGUST, 2013, WHAAAA.

Hay Mountainpen, just wait till the 28^th rolls around, YO!!!

A lot of shit is happening, both in real time, as well as inside of my own self. I have come to remember a few things that I’ve been suppressing for a very long time.

I was awakened to a very sore throat a little while ago and along with this, began to uncover some powerful memories about Roseann Delaney. But that can wait for right now. She is the reason that I tried to hatch a plan to construct something that I labeled as ‘Timeless Satellite’, right shortly after my first encounter with this extremely beautiful teenaged girl; right around my age, at least in appearance; and again, Jim Rockford, we can get back around to all of this later on as it does indeed fit quite perfectly into all of what is going on both now, and for decades of time as well; but I’m moving this on for now, and we will come back to all of these topics.

The majority of my audience has left me. I was getting an average of 130 daily page hits for much of this year of 2013, up until the summer time came in, when it started to suddenly slow down and down and down, and right at a time where I am able to tie stuff together and prove all of the claims made all these years now in my Morianity. Also, my asshole nabes slammed in late, after 11, but were quiet after that, and now this morning, a few doors are banging out over the past twenty minutes from now, give or take, at 8:10 this morning. I’ll get days of totally one thing and then days of totally another thing around here, there is absolutely no way to predict or get any kind of a handle on the activities that go on around this crapper hole, passing for a life dwelling. So, my computer is about to get packed up and stored along the wall with much of my other stuff, and I will just be taking off into the night and vanishing out of view with nobody the wiser, at least around here. It will all go down when all of you, here and there, least expect it. I will not tell any of my plans, as it only serves to weaken my position with my WOMO–MILITUFORCE ENEMIES.

What I will say is that the answer to all my searching for truth about so many things all of my adult life now, and especially since my mid-life began at around age forty; was as most powerful things always are; right in front of the nose on my face. It has always been around the great one and only Irish teenaged love of my life, ROSEANN DELANEY. All her type, and we certainly are not speaking of national origin here folks, in legend anyway, have this strange and peculiar power, to make other peeps forget things. I, unlike any or at least the great majority of any of you, have not received my information second hand, I was right there. But since peeps do not understand, nor can they seemingly reach an enlightened enough point so as to properly believe in the truths of exploratronics, and hyperspace; would instantly ask me such things as; I thought Paula King rang your doorbell in the daytime? She did. That does not mean, Roseann Delaney, dead and asleep to the world, cannot be inside of her, and in a domination mode, as opposed to a recessant mode of dream-control. Even ‘this type’ entity, has exploratronic capabilities, perhaps, their abilities are tuned far greater and higher than those unlike themselves. So if I say that an exploratron traveler did such and such, the actual physical person may be anyone from Joe Doe to Jane Payne to Mark Bark to Joan Bone. They are not even aware for the most part that they are doing something. Ed Lynch and myself certainly were not aware that Bob McGuire was standing right outside our automobile, that he had crossed over Tennessee Avenue from the north side over to the south side, where his hotel and bar was, back in 2006; and had approached my automobile at the side where Ed was sitting, the front passenger’s seat. We never even knew that he was there. Our memories had been blotted out entirely. Yet we had been photographing the area that day for the website called Morianity-Foundation; and when we went to get the CD print-out, of those photos, at the Eckert Pharmacy in Berlin, New Jersey, a short time later; and examined them; there he was, just as plain as day; that look of Irish anger in his face, his fists all clinched up in a fight mode; yet for what reason I wonder? We could not even see him there. Still, he knew that our photographs would reveal all of this, and obviously this was another ‘THAT-FAMILY’ tactic of scaring us off; with this wild esoteric parlor trick, and only one in the family bag of so many. Roseann is family also. The Delaney branch has two possible close-in relations to the cousins of a cousin in the family of actress Maria Shriver, family through marriage, which a lot of these peeps are, and no ancestry dot com is going to ever know all these details, only the great Mormon Church has all of these secrets, and only if you personally are pals with Elder Hair, will you stand a prayer of learning all of these things.

Now for an opening about Roseann Delaney. I met her in 1967, at the very next week, after a lot of her friends from Atlantic City, all decided to gang rape me. I was only twelve and a half years of age, and old enough to appreciate that these were ravishing lovely teenaged girls of about the age of sixteen, back in late June in 1967, and had become friends of my first cousin, Sandy. This is the real hurricane that blew my life into the hellish situation that it later all became, and was every bit as destructive. Also, my Cousin Sandy was only there at the great Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, because her mother insisted that her sister in law, who was my mother; take her along with us, that one time out of the eight times, that we vacationed there; from the summers of 1965 and 1968 inclusive, twice per season. There were 4 prior stays and 3 after stays, from this one time with Cousin Sandy. She had a boyfriend named David at the time, right before she met her later to follow fiance’ and husband of the future, named Timothy Letterman. Also, her mother, my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, was personal friends with the Shah of Iran at that time, back in 1967; very good friends, may I add. For reasons way too complicated to even try getting into on any one blog; I came to learn in the 21^st century, that all of this was part of a global plot to plant me smack dab in the middle of this family, way back then; so that many monstrous things could then happen. I don’t trust any of these dam lizards, but hay, I could be wrong; and maybe there is indeed some great and wonderful outcome that sprouts out of all of this someday, and I am just to limited in my horizon vantage point to see it, unlike the Almighty Goddess, SSJK.

All I can say for sure right now, are a few simple facts. My life is on some wild course that all the power in the world seems unable to interrupt. Also, it is physically impossible for me to ever take a clear photo and in its entirety, of the magical home at 30 South Plaza Place, in South Atlantic City, New Jersey; and that there are members in this wild family who have the power to totally wipe out your memories of recent events about them or things that they may have just done to you or told you, as this has happened to both me and others with me, on numerous occasions.

In my opinion, Roseann Delaney is the one who has done all of this to me, and even peeps like my daughter and others close within my family and her family, may have had their memories all blotted out, or at least scrambled in various amounts and degrees. As for my rape in the hotel while my cousin acted as the lookout and my mother was up on the boardwalk getting them all some drinks at the salt water taffy place known as Frailenger’s, it was half past nine at night around the 27^th of June of 1967, and all that Roseann would have had to do, was to influence these girls to all do this to me, from some place nearby, possibly right there at the Trinidad Hotel (Trinity) if this had all taken place in South America. I realize that lots of events seem jumbled and ridiculous, but the entire truth would take me a million long pages to write in some kind of a perfect order, so don’t expect that any time soon, good folks. I have not heard this many early morning slamming fucking doors now for ages. Between this and the terrible throat attack, I know I am under a real problem here, AG of Florida, mahm, Mizz Bondi.

Also, my Channel-12-Weather-Bug has been totally hacked now for a week. The camera shot is stuck at one time and location, and the weather map never shows any color-key conditions, and the lightning position system appears down as well, FCC, BOB MCDOWELL, sir, and old pal from 1972. For those who are fans of the Chris Bennett/Chester Perkowski Comic-Hero World of so-called fiction characters even including those supernatural beings, many do exist, and I realize that, Roseann being definitely one of them, yes this is true, despite the poo-pooing of Sally Starr and her friend the professor back in freaking 1998. How we both were wrecked and ruined for messing with any of these powerful Scott Ransom people back in that time, some ten years after the comment made to me indeed, by the illustrious Mister Scott Ransom about my powerful angry enemies, the ‘Disgruntled Ones’, the day that I bugged up my automobile and got him talking about him and his boss Kelly Jackson, of Jackson and Jackson Realty. Originally in 1983, Kelly was employed as a real estate agent at the offices of Dixon and Dixon. The reason they are disgruntled is because I made a stink about Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb ripping off my music arrangement on a 1980 song I had written called, ”LOST LOVE”. They even got the Copyright Office in on their little scam somehow, changing the date from 1980 to 1981 on my stuff that I sent down there as one package and one musical project. You all have seen the paste in of my copyrights page. No need for posting it again now. Rapping this up, the Delaney types, do not bite outside on the neck, and the one time my lovely Roseann did this to me on the night of the fourth of June, Wednesday, back in 1969, outside my apartment on Pyle Avenue without any space journeys or saluting going on in the mix of all this horrendous garbage; this was just a big ‘hickey’, no not a hockey, nor were the Philly Flyers involved, although folks, the Jersey Devils used to practice just out beyond this area that is being discussed, and then moved up north into the Meadowland-Area, and the newly formed Flyers came over to us; but more importantly, maiden names and symbolism, tell me that Yogi Berra said it better than all of us, ”Some things are too coincidental to be a coincidence”. Now you see why I needed to be stopped and blocked and sanctioned or said differently, ”made to go anti-viral”, by the World Owners, on my Youtube Account. Still, an interesting PCN for MY YOUTUBE MUSIC, right, number 550, as in ‘December-2009’, as well as ‘Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King’, and yes; many many many others, lovely Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes this was one big painful bite in the neck, but that was all it was. When Mizz Delaney wants to really do her thing, to put it sixties style; she is like a lizard. You get this lovely wonderful awesome French-kiss. Then when her tongue is in the back of your throat, like jelly fish, she has a special tongue that sucks blood right out of your capillaries that are all over that deep area in the throat. You have no memory of it or very little, and also, she has been doing all of this all of this time, and is why this all happened in 1969 first, then later on when she came to me in 1983 one night while I was watching a movie in my living room about some kids trying to make a recording of a song they had written, calling it a real monster tune, I remember that night with full clarity, despite this being over thirty years ago; only I do not remember anything other than a hazy quick appearance of Roseann while my mom went to the toilet to help stink up the Septic plant, just long enough to take care of bizz. Only this attack left me damaged forever, in more ways than one, and only one doctor and one great lab technician know, but will never tell. A child can see what all the implications would be for finking on this just to help pathetic little me out. So of course, that will never happen. Yeah, I don’t know either, great wonderful Lab Technician Scylla. Oh my poor poor pitiful lymph glands, from here to Lake Champlain, Louisiana, huh Katrina. Yes, they have built their own Magnesonic and totally stopped all my lovely great storms!

B—U—T NOT FOREVER. I HAVE COUNTER PLANS TO GET THEM GOING ALL OVER AGAIN IF THIS SHIT DOES NOT STOP, YOU ROTTEN SICK TWISTED EVIL PRICKS.

I WAS VERY SERIOUSLY INJURED LAST FRIDAY BY THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, AND IT MAY FORCE ME TO UP MY SCHEDULE FOR PRODUCING THE MORIANITY RELIGION FOR THE THIRD MILLENNIUM, FROM WHAT WAS PREVIOUSLY PLANNED TO SOME DEGREE. FOR RIGHT NOW, NO CHANGES ARE IN WORK, BUT I WANT IT OFFICIALLY ON RECORD THAT AN ATTEMPT WAS MADE ON MY LIFE BACK LAST FRIDAY THE NINTH OF AUGUST. GEE, BIG SURPRISE; LIKE I FORGET SHIT, OR CANNOT READ A DAM CALENDAR.

WELL FOLKS, I’LL PASTE IN A BLOG FROM YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, THAT I WAS NOT GOING TO PASTE IN UNTIL LATER TODAY, OR EVEN MAYBE NOT UNTIL TUESDAY; FOR REASONS NONE OF YOU OUT HERE NEED CONCERN YOURSELVES WITH, AT THE PRESENT POINT.

MY SCUMBAG ACROSS THE HALL NABES SLAMMED IN AT MIDDLE AFTERNOON SUNDAY; AND THEN, WERE MUCH QUIETER THAN NORMAL. YOU BARELY KNEW THAT THEY WERE IN THERE, BUT THEY WERE. THEY’RE NEVER THAT QUIET. I CAN PROVE NOW THAT SINCE 1986, PEOPLE THAT RUN THIS GOVERNMENT, AND THIS WORLD; HAVE BEEN USING HORRIBLE COWORKERS, HORRIBLE NEIGHBORS, AND MANY OTHER TACTICS, TO MAKE MY LIFE A LIVING FUCKING HELL, IN ADDITION TO USING DEATH RAYS ON ME THAT FINALLY NOW, ARE PROVABLE, AND NO LONGER JUST THE TALK OF TIN FOIL HATTERS. IT IS ALL IN THE REALM OF COURT EVIDENCE NOW, BUT MY PROBLEM GOES FAR BEYOND ALL OF THIS, BECAUSE THE VERY SAME FORCES COVERING UP THE UFOLOGICAL STUFF, ARE DIRECTLY BEHIND MY DEMISE, SINCE MY MOM DROPPED ME ON MY MOTHER FUCKING HEAD, OUTSIDE HER PARENTS HOME, AROUND LATE 1955, OR EARLY 1956, IN PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, AT 440 SOUTH FIFTIETH STREET. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING ME STARTED MISSES ECKERT ON JULY 12 OF OH-MAROLA-3, AND FOR THAT MATTER, SPEAKING OF DECADE TIME POINTS, OR DOUBLE JASON MCGUIRE/PAUL STODDARD ‘LEVY-THIN’, OR NOT THIN, OR WHATEVER; CONGRESSMAN-1975 OLD EX-BUDDY; AND ALL THE MONEY IN THE MOTHER FUCKING UNIVERSE WON’T GET YOU INTO THE WHITE HOUSE THERE, DISTANT COUSIN; SO GO AHEAD AND TRY, ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN YOUR OPPONENTS WANT THE FULL STORY ON WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME SINCE 1984, AND THEN THE FULLER STORY STILL ON WHAT YOU DID LATER ON, YOU PRICK SHIT MOTHER FUCKER; THEY’LL KNOW THAT THEY CAN ALWAYS COME A KNOCKING ON MY POOR OL’ FRONT DOOR, JUST AS THE OLD SONG SAYS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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THIS IS MORIANITY,PART FIVE,AND PLEASE BELIEVERS AND L-4 FOLKS, TRY AND HAVEYOURSELVESAVERY VERY NICEDAY.

YOU ARE CONTINUING TO READ CHAPTER 00161. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

August 15 2013, 3:49 ANTE’ Meridian, Sunday!!!!!!

THIS CHAPTER AND WORK INCLUDES A SUB-TITLE:

POWERFUL EXCERPTS FROM THE NOT SO DISTANT PAST MORIANITY WORKS: Let’s examine one tiny week in time!!!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 125

(NOT HADDON HILL LABS OF 1966)

(NOT ‘A’ OR ‘B’ OR BRUCE CUT WRIST WALTER)

TEOHIV-TMCAM-ST-3: “MESSAGE TO SNYDER,

SCYLLA, AND SEWERSCUM ENEMIES”:

WORLD LABS OF 2295 SBT-DATFILE:

CH-125-041711.065.555555555555—-AKA April 17, 2011

(This is all done by ENEMIES or the WOMO, just to make me appear fucking stupid)

(Also the copyright years were hacked one way or another, and made me appear as an antimatter cross lifer. It should have read as the blog here reads, 2006-2011, & not the year of fake terror)

(Owner of the Philadelphia garbage Ice Hockey Team. Long ago now, not to me, but to many mortals, one day just totally became its own part two of a two part life that I am living since the 4^th day of December in 1954 at 9:30 in the freaking morning. Ever since getting out of bed in Cherry Hill, New Jersey on the 15^th day in August of the year of fucking 1986, my entire life was not the same as it was prior to this. It was noticeable not only in my waking world daily surroundings, but I had been keeping what I called LIFE-CHARTS, that measured the type of days that I had, and had been doing so since the summer time in 1982, approximately 49 months of faithfully writing several numbers down on paper from one through five on various life parameters, and with a basic scoring formula, arriving at a daily point number so that this could be averaged weekly and monthly and annually. Actually, I do not know if anyone alive ever on this planet of dark age ignorance, ever bothered to do anything like this before. I continued doing this until the summer time in the year of 1997, when I no longer could take writing down nothing but solid ones, ones, ones, every single mother fucking day. This is what led me to realize that ‘God’, ‘Jesus Christ’, ‘religion’, all of it; was and is NOTHING BUT A DIRTY ROTTEN FILTHY MOTHER FUCKING TOTAL ASS HOAX, AND I TOTALLY KNOW THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That does not mean that time travel is real just because ‘MI’ is on the beginning of a 1986 tape on the song entitled “Real Good Girl”. What I am saying here in a not so scientific or terrific way is simply this folks. Religion and all of this ‘hocus-pocus’ is exactly as true and real as you believe it to be, and is Biblically admitted to in these exact words, if you have the mother fucking guts to read the entire bible open minded. Jesus said with no bones about it that he did not do anything, it was faith, either his faith upon occasion, and our faith upon occasion, but FAITH, and only fucking FAITH, that accomplished the miraculous parlor tricks that were responsible for the creation of the entire Christian religion, and many others as well)

(You need total faith, and who has that unless you totally know, and then is it faith? Well, again, this is not really the ‘time or the place’ for this or ‘1989 Skywriter Donna’ right now. Many times we believe because we know something, and say this is not faith, but what really is knowing something? What if we are in error despite thinking we are correct in in our knowing, and in our assumptions? This certainly can be, and is, the case on many occasions. Many times things are tricks, things are faked, things are put together wrong, and peeps, let me be straight up with all of you, I love to examine shit and play the great detective, but I am by no means some super sleuth. I do not believe in coincidence and my true hero is and will always be Yogi not the bear, who said that it is too coincidental to be a coincidence, to wit, I totally concur whole freaking heartedly. This includes a day I’ll remember forever up on Long Island, at 175 Peninsula Drive, at my Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald’s home. I did not feel like going, and remained at the house, while my mom, her cousin Ruth Huntington, and Ruth’s daughter Kathy Gottwald whose married name is now different, ancestry dot com, so go build your data base with the amateurs that are clueless about the Mormon Church and their power ass Genealogical recording system of the past half millennium, all went out one night to see a movie in Babylon, called ‘Sleuth’. Come on peeps, WHAT ARE THE FREAKING ASS ODDS OF SUCH AN EVENT, just honestly think about it?

NOW HERE IS WHERE THE SPIRITUAL STUFF GOES FROM HAIRY TO BEYOND THE MARK OF CANONIZATION, WHETHER WE BE OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH OR NAUT, MISS AT&T BLAKE FROM 1983.

I thought I was re-printing from my SAFE JOURNAL grouping of chapters, and somehow I hit the number 161 chapter in a more current part of Morianity that is inside of my document files of this PC. This is even more so-called-random, only is it, let me read it, along with you, after I post it. I think we will all get a powerful JAMES REDFIELD MIND BLOW HERE, good peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!

EVERY MOTHER FUCKING DAY IS SUPER BOTBAR

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JUST WHEN WE THOUGHT THIS WAS OVER, STEVIE KNICKS, HONEY CAKES; YOU’VE GOT ME RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING FOR COVER; FROM 1976, THROUGH THE MORONI FLEETWOOD CADILLAC SYSTEMS, OF ALL AND ANY TRAVELERS VEHICLES; YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!

I COULD USE SOME COCK SUCKING LOOKING AFTER, STATE AND FEDERAL AUTHORITIES, YO!!!

EVERY MOTHER FUCKING TIME I LEAVE MY APARTMENT TO DO A SMALL ERRAND, BOOM, CHEMTRAILS START RIGHT UP IN MY FACE, AND JUST AROUND ME, AND I HAVE BETTER CUNT SNIFFING FUCKKING THINGS TO DO WITH MY TIME THAN TO WEITHER BE IMAGINING THIS SHIT, OR HAVE IT BEING DONE TO ME BY SCUM BAG LOW LIFE FUCKING WACKEY JERK OFF PSYCH CASES FROM FUCKING HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I MUST BE THE MOST FUCKING COCK SUCKING IMPORTANT ”NOBODY” ON THIS PLANET. IF I WAS SO TOTALLY UNIMPORTANT TO THESE POWERFUL WORLD OWNERS, THEY WOULD BE PAYING A LOT MORE ATTENTION TO THEIR OWN MISERABLE ROTTEN SICK TWISTED FUCKING LIVES, THAN BE WORRYING ABOUT GOOD OLD FUCKING PITIFUL NOBODY MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR, 24-7-365.2422!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SINCE THIS IS NOT WHAT IS GOING ON, THEN THIS NOBODY CRAP, IS NOT REALITY. JUST BECAUSE NONE OF THE REAL NOBODY’S KNOW OF ME, MEANS DIDDLY SQUAT. THESE ARE THE PEEPS WHO MAKE AND CREATE THE STARS THAT YOU ALL WOO OVER LIKE DOGS WITH THEIR FUCKING TONGUES STUCK OUT ON A HOT JULY DAY. THEY ALSO ARE THE ONES WHO THINK I AM MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY OF THEM, AS THEY DO NOT FUCK WITH THEM CONTINUALLY AND ACT AS THOUGH THE SUN MUST SOMEEHOW INVISIBLY RISE AND SET ON MY FUCKING ROTTEN ASS FACE!

I TOLD YOU GINA, THEY WILL ENDLESSLY FUCKING CUNT PERSECUTE ME AND HARASS ME, AND THROW YOU IN JAIL TO UPSET ME, AS THE GREAT GADFLY BLOGS REPORTED LAST WEEK, AND WHAT HAPPENS, JUST AS I HAVE SAID OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, YO YO YO YO???? THE FUCKING CUNT LAPPING DOW JONES STOCK MARKET RACES ENDLESSLY UP. THEY WILL SEE A GAIN THIS WEEK OF NEARLY 1000 POINTS, A GAIN NEXT WEEK JUST LIKE THIS ONE, AND 500 POINTS A WEEK THROUGH THE SUMMER TIME. HOWEVER, MY FUCKING PUSSY COMMAND IS GOING TO BE REALLY KILLER AS THIS ERNDLESS AIR ASSAULT PROGRESSES WITHOUT FUCKING LET UP, AND DON’T THINK FOR ONE CUNT EATING MINUTE THAT I DO NOT FUCKING ASS PLAN TO TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT THIS FUCKING TIME AROUND, YO YO YO YO YO, I TOO CAN LEARN MY LESSONS FROM ERRORS, AND NOT TO FUCKING CUNT REPEAT THEM OVER AGAIN, DIRT HOLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So far today, I have injured myself with a razor blade, cutting my left fucking hand, and have had some nasty aerial persecution. And the day is only starting. I am four straight MOTHER FUCKING SUPER BOTBARS NOW, GOOD FOLKS, AND BAD FOLKS. HA-HA, all healed up!!!!

Speaking of good, and ‘real good’, and time traveler wrestler fast Jesse Ventura, slow Robbie; there are a lot of things that I plan to be saying very soon, and it will go way beyond the islands, the island juices, the island music, Trump knowing long ago that my daughter and all this hell around me all existed, in fact, being head of the great Briggbase and one of the giant bosses in the great Millionth Council; most likely had a big hand in planning many things, not merely the Dawn King Rehab Escape caper, and then her covert murder; after I ran away, to leave no living participant-witnesses, Ann king. Tell that to your attorney’s that you go to when you sue New jersey for your daughter’s misfeasance/malfeasance wrongful death in Atlantic City, at the hospital there.

FEBRUARY 21, 2014,

FRIDAY MORNING AT 10:32,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 80 DEGREES FNHT.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,717

Folks, and Gina from jail, here is the flying DOW for right now, WEEEEEEEEEEEEE, resulting in my persecution over the past four days, Go ahead world, insist I am a nut. I’m in great company, as the general population considered many of the greats of yesterday from Louis Pasture to Albert Einstein, Edison to Vangough, to be nut cases and total shit heads in their current day societies. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE again, GINA. Call me if you ever need anything from me, you are not BOO.

SEE, THEY ATTACKED ME EARLY, AS ALWAYS, AND WOUSHHHHHHHH, UP SHE GOES, YO, SEC, AS IF YOU GIVE A SHIT ABOUT DOING YOUR JOBS UP THERE IN FUCKING ASS MANHATTAN!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, l+l=ll. This is reality in any universe. So is ICPE TECK, and so are all strange lab-technicians from 1984-1986, along with bumper sticker Camden boys who just are trying hard to be them, and letting all of the local ho’s and bitches know it, that night back in fucking late 1987. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes Terry Egghead Harbors, I am most definitely an imperfect little human being, in total control over the Endless Miseries Club of Planet Earth, but not in control of a whole lot else, mahm. Sorry about that 1986 Maxwell Smart Chief. Blare those video games at me, brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been trapped in this one for a long long long time, lovely Ingrid.

This is going to be a real mother fucking nasty ass BOTBAR TIMES CUNT LAPPING 4 DAY FOR ME!!!!!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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

I have no time to get into shit, but this weekend, be fucking prepared, sir Jack McCoy, I’m moving forward, SIR!!!!!! The Milituforce has been warned.

Very soon, I am going to throw away every electronic machine in my apartment, including this computer. These are all TOOLS OF SATAN, and I refuse to play HIS SICK TWISTED GAMES.

Now that this is off of my chest, the last few days were as all days, typical days of the Mountainpen, and very muggy and hot. My chem-cough has been very bad for a solid year, and I figure that shortly I will be dead and gone, and good riddance to this horrible show of misery and woe. The doctors are not all mighty perfect. Many peeps were given three months to live and the patient lived for 20 years. Others were told they are fine and can run a rock chucking marathon, and they go and drop dead a day or two later. My asshole new nabes have been in and out all day long, and night long, day after day after day. Three new peeps in the last 6-12 months are down the hallway, and they are real nut cases. What else is bunt tapping new, though?

Monday, I’ll mail the crap to the Social Security Office, their one one one one one form, yeah right, whatever, Congressman old buddy from seventy five. Hay, I have no power to do living smelly squat, I just report the darn news, sort of like you sir Gadfly, I do not create it or change it, or I sure try not to. We all do, just by inhaling our next breaths. In my case, my chemtrailitus will stop that soon enough. Godda’ luv those enemies of mine, huh Prince? Well, I’m glad if I can make the smallest bit of difference for the better, in this messed up situation, whatever this is, as for me, I am not going to tell you that I have any answers, go find your own. If you want better news reporting, many blogs out there will do this for you, go to my old buddy the gadfly for starters.

The lady came to clean my apartment, and things are all sparkly nice, fresh smelling too, WEEEEEEE. She even put junk on the remnant carpets I have laid down in here, and vacuumed over it, and it smells like a million dollars. WOW, ”I’m impressed”, Aunt Geraldine Cuss-word Groundhog! Yeah, Gadfly, I hear there is a price on his head, along with Zimmy; good. Who needs roadkill and murderers all around us when there are enough tears and fears and jeers lurking all around us and our loved ones? Sure there are two sides to all stories, I really do believe that. Still, put me on a jury and someone is going to swing from a rope or see one hell of a lovely tall blond with long eyes right after the switch gets pulled down. Sometimes we are all put in a no choice deal, and end up judged by 12 or carried by 12, as the old saying goes. Well, like death itself, if that is the number that pops yup in your roulette ball life game, then ping, there it is Ziggy Malyeska, or as you might put it quite well back in 1969, ”That’s the way it goes”!

FEBRUARY 23, 2014,

SUNDAY MORNING AT 1:15,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 68 DEGREES FNHT.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,718

There are three people I may be suing shortly, and will keep the journal updated as time passes. These are good law suits, I have evidence that will put them in jail and get me paid money for what was done to me. No one needs to know any details. I am tired of being persecuted. It has gone on for somewhere between freaking 30 and 60 years, and I’m sick of it.

Thank you so much for coming around to see me, two straight days in a row, lovely beautiful LIGHTNING, (Diana Arteemis). You mean the worlds to me, and way beyond!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The past nights have been filled with wild dreams about both of my daughters, and many things from my past, in many parts of the multiverse. My distant cousin knows what I am saying when I say this for the record. I’ve got your number, cuzz. Some of this worked out really ashame for both of us, as you ended up right all along, just in reverse, and all the others in town are too scared of the MILITUFORCE to ever make any real significant changes there in town. They know the terror. I do too, and so do you. But I know now that you WOULD have the darn testicles, to really come out and do some wild stuff that would just possibly get things moving back on the track for all of us. OK, Queen Irene, so it all happened, so did Doctor L&O Rogers propey laugh-juice and the circus-suit giant man, and all of it. Yes, here is why I did all of this, misses Gaines, OK? Because my Microsucks Light-bulb Hacked Doppelganger inside me, got control of me, and along with my great wonderful awesome cousin, we brought a lot of things into this universe, even mixing certain things together, like cooks in a kitchen. This is why I am taking it all apart, forever. I have had it with Satan abnd his dam games. That’s Y, Jimmy Burr, OK, that is why, and give lovely Connie a big ass french kiss for me, bud! Dear Journal-Diary, tape number 25718, I am not feeling well today. I feel like a ton of bricks, along with the ES Building in Manhattan, has struck me down like a dog in the street. Gee, I wonder dog gone why; world, and Hyundai Corporation, of the 2006 DUH-CLUB???????????

Oh yes sir/mahm, those woods that day, and my dog Roseann, named after such a nice lovely girl from back in 1969’s wonderful spring time; all that lovely electronic junk; man do I wish some meteor had come down and burned all of us up that day. Gee willagars, Jimmy Stuart Cement Pookah Wabbit. Golly gash darn, US © Office, back in 1988 and near time circa. No, I didn’t say circus, Art Crane Antinass, but tanks for the great info back in ninety-one. Paula king tried to run us both down that day, and if you out here reading this, I know you remember her antics on that day at the super Walmart Store of Washington Township, New Jersey. Yes, why did so much horrible crap happen to me, whether I was with friends or a parent, in this exact area? Trying to run someone down is attempted murder, and then the darn police cover it all up by writing the re[port backwards, saying that I witnessed hearing the terror threat made by that Indian dude on 2 August in 1996, when it was my mom who heard this threat, ”I’m going to kill your son, and I’ll kill you too if you don’t get away from this truck”. It may be your playpen, JUJU, but in all truth, the police are not always perfect, and they do write things up wrong sometimes. I love your show, but I would never want you as my judge, because if the unusual happens to happen, and to me it does, all the time, you and Birdie would be throwing me out on my ear before I would get a word in edgewise. Oh well, I still enjoy watching your cool TV show.

Folks, and Gina from jail, WEEEEE, and hang in there with us poor old Huntington’s, big lovely girl!!!!!!!

One of my very favorite old time television shows from a while ago, half a century or so; was about twin teen girls, and was called, “The Patty Duke Show”. The continuous plot on many episodes revolved around the teen girl Patty duke, and her twin, and how they on numerous occasion would fake out other people; pretending to be the other twin. Still and all, twins are so radically different from each other on many areas, folks; and now on top of that, just imagine regular babies that grow up into adulthood, and go into life; and realize how nobody sees the very same basic world, the same. Along with this being a fascinating truth, lays the very unfortunate garbage for me; that no one believes any of my wild fish stories, as they’re considered to be. There are times I will not deny, that I find myself thinking, ‘GEE, if only 100 precise twins of me were right here, then someone would listen to my plight’. Well, hyperspace can pull of a miracle like that, but it is a highly unlikely event, still; weird stuff goes on, and I am leaving that right there, for right now, lovely LOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes my friends and my fiends, I am a lot like that dude telling the world his simple truth, using his car and his bumper sticker just below his license plate; on that night back in fucking late 1987. Dave Roth and I happened to be driving around and for the gods only know what reason, this had a profound effect on Dave, and he laughed about it both on the telephone as well as with me in person, for years, oh yes, he was just trying hard to be himself, and letting all of the local ho’s and bitches know it, and for the life of me, I say GODDESS BLESS, TINY TIM, and bigger Tim of 2010 DREAMLAND in FLORIDA, land of the great flowers, transdimensional fruit festivals that explode, and so much more, right Joe Berrios from good old 1989 and 1990?????????

Powerful forces are surrounding me. They do not have to throw me up on walls and into high mounted air conditioning units such as was done to me in my mom’s apartment in 1976, for me to know the are around. They do not have to put fear in supernatural quantity into me in sufficient amounts to make me run outside and away from my apartment such was done many times in Philadelphia, in that center city apartment back in 1963. I am at an age in this lifetime or astral-dream-down, where I can feel stuff and know stuff, absolutely and fully, without suffering the direct effects of it.

The big reason for life turning on a dime, magnetically against me; late in the final days of last freaking August, is no different than at other major bumps in my monstrous road trip through hyperspace and life in the multiverse, a life just like yours folks, only you are not aware of it all, but the reasons are one reason, and the forces of all jit eyes, and all of that, is but one force, and I have labeled it way back when these blogs and tapes all got started, and I was never shy about using the label, in all of my talks and discussions; EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND. I used to marvel and drool at the miracles, and it was Ron Wirtz at the CCPO in New Jersey, who told me, “It’s not such a big deal when you know the trick”. The crap done to me year after year that would make all the popes in Catholic history commit suicide, all is explainable with the ESS, but still, this leaves the riddle of WHY ME, just because some powerful stuff is indeed out there somewhere, why me? YYYYY am I the target of so much of this? The only possible answer is that I am crazy or else I am the center of the universe. You would rather think, we’ll go with door number one. I of course totally know that it is door number two. The only person besides me that knows this with assurance, on this Earth, is my cousin. He’s not gonna’ tell. So where are you when I need you, Hyundai corporation, or Walmart Shannon for that matter, Fonty-Boy?

5555555555555555555555555555555555.

I have my monitor blocked for this page eleven of eleven, HA HA HA HA HA, JANE BANE!!!!!!!!!

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Ladies and gentlemen, Sarah is not gay, and saying her name twice, or some similar pronunciation; is not going to change the truth about quantum parallel realities, or transdimensional hyperspace multiverse. I will tell you to look for the number 9, because this will be a number that is very significant to many parallel universes, maybe even this one. No one is capable of photographing 30 South Plaza Place in Atlantic City, New Jersey, and having it come out clearly. You can get the block and the air view, but not the house. I don’t care how powerful the forces of Thirty-sixth Avenue, of San Mateo, California; all are. There are mixes in ingredients that make some real wild alterations in time and parallel universes, and the space that contains all of this, or hyperspace. I will go wash my hands now, and then maybe, just maybe, allow my cousin to finish out his life here, without me turning new tapes in a backward direction. He must promise to do something for me in return. He must activate his own buttons. And to think I was really a fly on the wall a month from now while Mizz Grant told how totally crazy I really am. Thank you, you are so kind. The rest of the dream, well Timmy my boy, that can wait, just like Emmit, 3030, Toy-land, Never Never Land, and Iowa-Heaven-Costner. No, Mister Macy, I am tired of glorifying your family, and the Callio family, forget it, as JUJU would say or scream it, so well. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

I do not have to wait for twenty-twenty-nine to hear certain wild songs, or cut and paste things into a blog, Ed and Chris. How about those deers, magazine articles, and guard reports, AC. Bill said, ”Mark, you spit in the guys cereal”. I said, what bill, I didn’t do anything? He said, oh yes you did, he saw you writing that report. Oh Lordess, should I worry about getting myself shot, or maybe my pals, the Lewis’s will come over with DEEZY and all of them can lift me up and tell me I don’t like them. You know what, maybe I don’t like all these folks so much, but I wish them all well. This is their world, and I just want to get out of here, mister Callas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.

ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS CLICK RIGHT NEXT TO THOSE LITTLE FREAKING BULLETS.

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	Gone with the wind, the winds of war, 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.

MIDDIE ISISCYLLA HAS REVEALED TO ME, A MAJOR PIECE OF WISDOM; THAT MY MIND COULD NOT HAVE COME TO PRODUCE, WITHOUT HER GREAT HELP, AND I KNOW THAT AS SURE AS I SIT HERE, TAPPING AWAY ON LITTLE BLACK SQUARE KEYBOARD KEYS, WEEEEE!

This entire computer nonsense is for the birds. Folks want to remain way to secretive, and to me, it is silly and stupid, like we are all 6 year olds playing spies and agents. This is not James Bond, this is a real world, and I am going to be rapping all of this up. I have NO SECRETS!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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

FEBRUARY 20, 2014,

THURSDAY AFTERNOON AT 2:42,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 79 DEGREES FNHT.

JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,716

Dear Journal-Diary, tape number 25716, I am not feeling well today. The doctor says I am in good health, but what is being done to me physically does not seem to ever show up on physical world medical tests and charts, gee, I wonder fucking why, world and Hyundai Corporation of the 2006 DUH-CLUB?

My noisy crude nabes were very noisy all morning and into this afternoon as well, with many doors and lots of hallway yelling. This of course is making their evil crooked DOW JONES fly, as I told you would always be the case with me, lovely and recently Gadfly reported, arrested, Giant Gina.

I am quite obviously fucking 2-straight SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAYS. Many weird things are going on around me, and I only wish I could just drop dead, and it all would be cunt lapping fucking over forever. This is not the case or the reality of shit, put quite short and simple. THIS FUCKIGN HACK is a pain in my dick throbbing puke licking twat times ten to the power of three hundred and nineteen.

There are so many things to tell, but I have had some shit come up and am way too busy today and until the weekend to really tell it all. I can hyper-tweet a little, but that’s all, Warner Folks!!!!!!!!!

Folks, and Gina from jail, here is the flying DOW for right now, WEEEEEEEEEEEEE, resulting in my persecution over the past two days, Go ahead world, insist I am a nut, you see, I used this ICPE and parallel event fucking crap to make consistent winnings at a game that even mighty Einstein claimed could not be done, so I KNOW IT IS ALL REAL, SCREW ANY ONE OF THE DISBELIEVERS, MIKE MC AHA AHA AHA NULTY.

What makes this an interesting world is that no two people are the same, not even twins. My family contains quite a number of these phenomenon’s so I know a little bit about this topic myself, along with my ”great pals” Colin and Kevin McGrath from Collingswood, New Jersey and from Haddon Township High School, in Westmont, World Future Labs, New Jersey, when there is no New Jersey any more. Even twins are not the same at all. Just get to know any of them, and get copies of the great show, and one of my very faves a little while ago, half a century or so, human world time, was about twin teen girls, called, ”Patty Duke Show”. So if twins are radically different, folks; then imagine regular babies that grow up into adulthood and go into life, and realize how nobody sees the very same basic world, the same. Along with this being a fascinating truth, is the unfortunate crap for me, that no one believes any of my wild fish stories, as they’re considered to be. Yeah, fish stories indeed, nice fresh pales of them on Stone Harbor, New Jersey jetties, talk about the epitome of transdimensional reality being all around our daily lives, completely invisible to us all, right old pal, Professor KAKU?????????????

Oh sweet mother of Viqueen gangs of the human equivalent Quoddy Mockers, and other mockers of the great 1971 era McNulty Club of Exton, Pennsylvania, YO; sup everybody, YO? GOD WILL GET ME FOR THIS, LADY FROM LONG BEACH ISLAND, WOW, SO IS THERE SUCH A WORD AS PROPHETESS???????? IF NOT, IT IS TIME TO INVENT IT, FOLKS. Maybe I should invent both prophetess and twinternet, as when I soon get into hypercyberspace, you all are going to be in the throws of an unfathomable fucking shit fit, good peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHO ELSE BUT THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, AND THE OTHER FORCES THAT GENERATE AND SUSTAIN DOUBT, IN THINGS, would want to make an innocent person’s life so endlessly inconceivably mother fucking ass miserable, YO????? Gimme a fuckin g break Jack Hattack FUCKIGN LATTISAW, willya??????????????????????????????

Speaking of mother fucking going to jail, and travelers, and the Exploratronic Supermind Society (ESS), this is where all evil people and entities belong, and then DOGTOWN after that, or HELL, for all the shit they do to innocent and decent folks.

Yes Terry Egghead Harbors, I am most definitely an imperfect little human being, in total control over the Endless Miseries Club of Planet Earth, but not in control of a whole lot else, mahm. Sorry about that 1986 Maxwell Smart Chief. Blare those video games at me, brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been trapped in this one for a long long long time, lovely Ingrid.

This is going to be a real mother fucking nasty ass BOTBAR TIMES CUNT LAPPING 2 DAY FOR ME!!!!!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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

IT IS 12:37 IN THE AM (ANTE’ MERIDIAN)

FEBRUARY 20, 2014, THURSDAY MORNING

64 DEGREES IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

JOURNAL TAPE NUMBER 25,715-B

JOURNAL TAPE 25,715 WAS ALSO 25,715-A

I fell under a pretty bad air assault on Wednesday, and could see early on by looking at the Jupiter Inlet Cam, and the skies, that things were in this particular type of simulationogram from the ASTRAL PLANE’S LAMBRIGG CULT. The physical counterpart of this in individual bodies and this army of pure unadulterated sick twisted evil, is called by this blogger; the MILITUFORCE. All things, without any exception; have a physical/astral twinallity.

I do not believe that everywhere I go and everybody I encounter, lies to me, and thinks I lie to them. What I do believe is happening is the only other possible realm in the sciences, quantum parallel universes existing in a vast unfathomable fifth dimension. I notice also the endless ”HAIR” connection in things, as what did Marilyn McCoo and her group call themselves, and back in a day and time when even the fourth dimension was never discussed on television, as it is in today’s present world, yes; the great FIFTH DIMENSIONS. What is in the attic of the RPL Recording Studio, but one of the three windows of the great MCGUIRE-KARGE WORMHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHERE DID THE RECORD ALBUM FROM 1968 OF DONNA SUMMER’S UNKNOWN WORK CALLED ”HAIR” ALL END UP, but right up in that weird time warp, right Printer Mike Walter, and old night boss if still ”alive here”, Donald Cialoni????????

Yes the lady told me today that her back is fine and did not know why anyone would have told me otherwise, you know, the inspection and cleaning deal that I discussed on a near recent blog. If this was the exception instead of the norm for me, fine and so be it, but it is not. It is the just about all the time routine for me, 24-7-365.2422. The point 244 was a typo-error, the last time I printed this, or a mind hack or machine hack, and all and both of these sources are from mind and exist first, in the MIND REALM, well, not really first, as that has a time implication and on a plane two higher than the fourth dimension, Miss McCoo Hair mahm, there is no time. It was nearly mid eightish all day with high nineties humidity, and felt a fucking hundred to me while out yesterday. What a monstrous hellish pain in my rear end. The north is so nice and cool, and I am down here dying, Linked in Paul, linked into what. Forgot how to use a phone, old buddy??????????????????? Well, maybe you lost my number as I lost yours, I think we both are listed, I know I am.

I went to my doctor and the grocery store known here as Publix, and also to the Good Will store for a few VHS movie tapes. The second I left my building and began to walk towards my parked vehicle, a nasty fat CHEMTRAIL was right there to greet me, and the eastern sky was filled with them. All day outside were slews of noisy airplanes, not big ones, but all strange spurious smaller ones, and one of them, I believe to definitely and most assuredly be, from the Milituforce/military/whatever, Bob, from 1975, Oak Street, Haddon Heights, New Jersey. That’s a year, not a street address. Say ‘hi’ to gorgeous Angel if you see her. Hell, for all I know, congressman, you married her. Nobody ever tells me a dam thing, like I am the Bubonic freaking Plague or something, or maybe I am just a mother fucking MICROSUCKS LIGHT-BULB HACK, FROM MONSTER ASS FIRE-NICK HELL!

Social Security sent me something that proves to me that I am in a different parallel universe from where I was a while back. According to them, there is a two year update form to be filled out on disabled people. They call it the ‘11111 form’, and believe me people, I would remember a Jane whore Fonda form number like this, in or out of SNOWED-IN-NSA-ATLANTA GEORGIA!!!!!!!!!! I filled this out a while ago, and will be mailing it into their headquarters in Pennsylvania sometime later on this week. Yes, the skies were alive with the sights of poached eggs, you can hear the music if you listen, Julie. I always wondered if you and the Congressman are within a few cousins, and in laws from each other; still Andrews is a fairly common name as Jones or almost. All of humanity is related, and I am only interested in up to about 6 cousins, and 6 in laws. This group of approximately three thousand people on average, is labeled by me for Morianity purposes, as an ‘SOU’ or SIX-OUT-UNIT family block. Take six of these, and intermingle them; and you have the entire human race, of seven and a half billion, or whatever it is, in and about there somewhere.

Nobody has a fucking clue what is going on around me and around the entire world. I told you all last year in 2013, that if you take that year and bust it up into thirds, early, middle, and late; you would see some shit; and unless you all are blinder than darkness, you know I told it true to everyone from Tammie’s little doctor, to the sights of poached eggs and 1988 copyrighted material in my frikkin’ name. Thanks for hurting me AGAIN, JOE. Would you be happy if you did not have me to pick on since 1998 rolled in? You’re as messed up and twisted as my damn ass daughter. I have tried incessantly to be friends with you, and all I get back is grief and dog shit, and screens, and dopey ass nonsense. James Bond world huh, well COUNT ME FREGGIN’ OUT OF IT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALL OF GAGA’S ANSWERS MAKE 100% TOTAL SENSE, AND WHY NOT, THIS IS A MAGICAL FUCKING CAT FROM THE ASTRAL PLANE. THE CAT KNOWS, AND NOT JUST KNOWS MY SHIT, HE KNOWS ALL OF YOUR SHIT TOO, MY WONDERFUL FOLKS. GAGA is short for an Astral-Plane cat, and professor at a great school of mystery in the Province Olympia, called Teck Bay Mystery School of Olympia Province or TBMSOP, I slang shorten this secretly, to Tibemsop. None of the students or faculty like my nickname, they must take lessons from my older daughter, MY, as she hates hers. Well, I hate having my auto-reverse messed with, tapes stealthfully removed, and of all things, my ‘property damaged’, but hay world; what can I do about anything? My mom only gets post cards from big-O, no hugs and kisses, well, here anyway.

So am I being lied to all the time by folks, or is it me, hopping like a freaking damn Easter Bunny Rabbit, from one universe to another; over and over and over, just by going to sleep, and waking back up again? Well first off folks, we all do this by altering our conscious MIND RECEPTION from D-6, you know, sleeping, waking, sleeping, waking, and so on, but you do not seem to do it in as wide a range as I do. If you were to compare this very novel concept to something more relatable to young peeps, stereo separation for example, you would be barely hearing a higher left side and a lower right side in frequency. I on the other hand am getting every single instrument altering side to side continuously, vocals and harmonies as well, and so on. This in all fucking honesty, peeps, is the only thing that can explain why I am suffering through this shit all my life, but now don’t some smart ass start with me and say, fine OK dude, but still YO, how come you are getting more of a movement than all of us? Hay, if I god dam knew, I would tell you. Morianity keeps no secrets. My mom did this, and as a result, I lost a fucking daughter, and two peeps will always be somewhat empty inside, admitted to or not!

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!

LAUGH OLD PAL, MIKE MCNULTY, YO!

I said there was a final message, and there sure as hell is. When it is time, I’ll share it BRAH!!!!!!!!!

MEOW-MEOW-MARK WAYNE MOHR

EVERYTHING IS A BIG GAME, ALL SO FUNNY.

1-2-3, —-4, 4, you know ISIS, you totally fucking rock!

‘Sooooooooo’, to quote Arthur Antinass Crane from 1991; lovely asshole Terry Harbors Egghead would not like the way I do my writing text. All scatterbrain nonsense, right girl? WRONG? You cannot produce a random anything or BLANK-ART, for all the tea in fucking China, all the gold in the Fort Knox Subterranean Rivers, and all the love in the cat house, all combined. It simply is not a possible thing for any of us poor wee mortal humans to accomplish. Sahwee Chahwee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Hay TTTTTTOM, like DDDDDDUH, just how diddddddd you pppppppppull that off, and know what happened to me a year before on the prior holiday, unless your girlfriend Vicki told you all the great Callio family secrets. Wow tall library girl, you brushed paths with me, and Sargent Carter and Gomer Pyle can take it from here, man oh man, and shazaalm, in the name of salt pecker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You love my gorgeous hair so much Vicki; why didn’t you come over and fuck my brains out one night while I was there, you silly witch?????????????? Get REALE man, oh yeah, he got me, huh David Roth; boy could he come up with shit. A ‘wow’ for my old late pal!!!!!

Miss fucking DIRTWEEDS JANE just fucking nailed me with her fucking cunt page eleven of eleven, and the Social Security Office is being hyper-dimensionally cute too, with their fucking form number quintuple-ones. Let me mother fucking cunt phlegm rape, please lads, lassies, Labbers, and Lab Dogs. TANKS A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

55555555555555555555555555555555555, PLUS 555555555555, TIMES 55555555555555, DIVIDED BY 55555555555555555555555555555; IS EQUAL TO WHO THE HELL GIVES THREE AND A NINTH SHITS. JUST LET ME STARE AT THESE FREAKING FIVES, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes I took some siege by air, and was already expecting it, and other shit too that needs not be addressed, but I also got some nice fucking awesome pussy command as a result of the nasty ass fucking aerial attack, as I normally get, either right away, or after several ass really bad days of it strung together, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“WILL ANYONE EVER BELIEVE ME GINA”

Holy mother of fucking goddess, my lovely Mariloo Viqueen Julia White, please give me a ‘PEMISSION BARRIER’ or at least another mother fucking 1994 year, before I up and fucking cunt croak!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TANKS-TANKS-TANKS, AND BOOOOOOOM, AND BOO, NO OUT OF JAIL FOR YOU, NOT ON MY DIME, CALL MY KID, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enemies, who R they??????????? BY PERSECUTING ME WITH NEVER ENDING UTILITY HARASSMENT, THESE WOMO-MILITUFORCE MONSTERS CAN ENDLESSLY KEEP THE DOW JONES TICKING UP! If someone teamed up with me; we could all be multi-billionaires. As of yet, nobody believes me, and this is the hidden gold in the attic of a homeowner who never will reap the benefit of the secret in his house; and will die broke, working hard all his life; when it did not have to be that way. Thank the great state of Missouri and their great Disbelievers Club, for this; my friends!!

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GOD WILL GET ME FOR THIS, LADY FROM LONG BEACH ISLAND, WOW, SO IS THERE SUCH A WORD AS PROPHETESS???????? IF NOT, IT IS TIME TO INVENT IT, FOLKS.

Labels: AMITTYVILLE FATES, BEING SLOWLY COVERTLY MURDERED, CROOKED SEC,

WHO ELSE BUT THE WOMO-MILITUFORCE, AND THE OTHER FORCES THAT GENERATE AND SUSTAIN DOUBT, IN THINGS THAT ARE OBVIOUS; JUST BECAUSE THEY MAY APPEAR WEIRD TO THE ONLOOKER. WHAT A PITIFUL SHAME! CAN’T DANCE 2, HUH SHIRLEY SOREGLANDS. I GOTTA STOP TOSSING LAMPS AROUND BEFORE THE TRAVELERS CREATE THE PC MOVEMENT TO GET ME PUT IN JAIL!!!

So before I went to my doctor, speaking of mother fucking going to jail, and travelers, and the Exploratronic Supermind Society (ESS), be sitting down for this one please, peeps; I was cuffed and taken off to jail. Yes, really, in a parallel universe. I need not be Zack Preppy or Sarge Muscleboy Wireframe or even Screech Nerdking, to tell you it feels more real while occupying the body of a doppelganger in hyperspace, a twin of yourself, while this other you is having a real bad fucking hair day, and I was. Also I don’t need to be any of these television characters to be saved by the bell or from ”balding Belding’s” school rules; as my alarm clock was my rope, and my blessing; Kevin Flatliners Bacon. I felt like kissing this alarm clock, when it got me out of this horror hell, around one thirty or so yesterday disasternoon. I had already spoken to Debbie in the morning and set the clock and went back to catch a few ZZZZZ’S. The next thing I knew I had trespassed onto someone’s private property and attempted to take something that was mine, or that I thought was, and as I exited the property, the police were waiting for me as though they knew and were sent by the travelers of the ESS. Now I was fully aware that I was inside another twin-me, but not in control, and was along for the ride, merely aware, so maybe I’ll need to invent the term and label now of TYPE 2 and a HALF EXPLORATRON, as this was me. When you merely perceive a dreaming as watching a movie, you are a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON. Type-2 are those that are aware but not in control and TYPE-3 can manipulate their twin-doubles in hyperspace, oh stupid me, TYPE-2, don’t mind me, I am fucking losing it folks, I was a TYPE-2-EXPLN in this experience, aware and lucid fully, but not in control. LSS, I have no idea where I was or whose property I had trespassed onto, but I remember telling someone that it had to be done and that a lot is riding on me getting something that is mine that is there. This item was actually several small items that were all laying across a small grassy area along a small road, but was still on legal private property. The two police persons in the squad car, I can see and detail in my mind so clearly that I could describe them perfectly right now to a real life police sketch artist. One was a man around age 32 and his partner was a very attractive Mexican-American female a few years his junior, say age 28. In this parallel universe, people being arrested, were cuffed in a totally different way. They were a different type of hand restraints, and the position that the police wanted your hands were very foreign to me as a dweller of this universe. They were nice and just treated me like I was slow for not understanding how to properly assume the positions. No matter what we see on television, police just about never ever want a hard time. If they see you are really for real and want to cooperate and know that you are going in abnd that is that, and are in full submission, it is like with anything from child or dog training, if you are in a true submission mode, all that junk is crap of how you will get you brains beat out. Those in just about all cases who get kicked to shit,are just pure assholes, not willing to comply, and the police are trained at an academy to recognize the difference. They were even laughing while the final cuffing of me was done, and I nervously laughed along with them. I was so scared, I have never ever been arrested. I have been cuffed once and taken to a crisis center for daring to report an officer harassing me and tearing up, and I just let the system work and 12 hours later, the shrink spoke to me and released me, and that was that. But this was a real charge, I had trespassed onto private property, and was being fucking arrested, as well I should have been. The fear was indescribable as I walked towards the open door of the squad car to go inside, and then, kaboom, my alarm clock on the loudest possible setting over here in this universe, woke me right out of that horrible parallel universe nightmare experience. Praise the Goddess. I really do love you MIDDIE ISISCYLLA, and am just very perplexed right now, why you and your industry friends have done so many mean things to me, when I told you how very sorry I was for all the stuff that happened from the eighties on up to near present times. I only want your happiness, dam it, I don’;t care if I am shot tomorrow and am thrown into a trash heap and disappear forever. This rotten life is meaningless to me, but you’re my daughter, and I do love you, and I hate these pricks all around you that have turned you against me so badly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot help my feelings about entertainment, I was hurt terribly by them, ripped off in ways you will never know unless someday you allow me to explain it all to you. You were in sixth grade when most of the horror show was playing in my real life, how could you know first hand? You know what they have told you, MY, and that’s all. I wish you only the best. Please don’t keep hating and hurting me, lovely one!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO WHY AM I CONTINUING TO WASTE MY TIME BLOGGING MY LIFE STORY???

THIS WILL BE SHORTLY EXPLAINED!!

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989

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ANYONE CAN CHECK ME OUT THROUGH DOZENS OF VARIOUS OFFICIAL SOURCES. I MAY APPEAR TOTALLY FUCKING CRAZY, AND ANGRY, AND WITH VERY GOOD REASONS; BUT I AM FOR REAL, AND SO ARE ALL MY COCK SUCKING CLAIMS, GOOD PEEPS! This pasted shit from the US © Office is just one tiny little mother fucking item, ladies and gents! Take that to the Bank of Toronto, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am in a war-game with MIGHTY ASTRAL PLANE GODS, and always have been, and always will be; because all time is really one time, and is a big fat fucking illusion. Now, in order to distract their awareness, away from the quintessential hellishness of ENDLESSNESS; they must do major things that take their minds endlessly off of this. Thus if they never ever are dwelling on it, it can exist, and not be part of their interaction; literally separating them from HELL!!! Now I don’t expect you to ‘GET THIS’; and am only hoping that you’ll keep on fucking reading this. Your awake brain is working in reverse and thinks endlessness is the coolest greatest thing imaginable. All things are reversed by the awake-brain, and if you think about this truth; you will know I am correct, and that you have absolutely no legitimate argument to present to me.

If only some of you nice wonderful folks would click the stuff that I tell you to click, you wouldn’t have to take my word for anything. It is all up on the internet, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse

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

Peeps, every time I pop into this universe from a place where I was having a major bad time, and I remember it clearly, through the wormhole in consciousness, or hyperspace-dreaming to be more accurate; THE MILI-2-FORCE strikes major, it never fails. I SPEAK OVER AND OVER AGAIN ABOUT THE AUTUMN IN 1994, WHEN COMING OUT OF THAT MAJOR DREAMING INTERACTION WITH SARAH KRASSLE, and then driving to my wonderful swim club, HADDONWOOD, and even on a very fucking overcast day, loud military shit was all over me, stalking and harassing and following me, directly above me, door to door, there and back hoe again. You don’t fucking forget shit like this just because nearly 20 fucking years ticks by, not unless you are truly a dam moron imbecile!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY BEAUTIFUL MOON, PROTECT ME AND BE WITH ME TONIGHT, GREAT TRIPLE GODDESS MIDDIE, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ALMIGHTY JEHOVAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will be crashing out of this universe in an hour or so after posting up this blog, be with me and love me, as I will be with and loving you, long dark haired teen queen goddess and my endless lover!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Something that I have by no means altered my opinions about, and have said it before on my blogs of more than eight years, peeps, and that is that M—O—N—E—Y, is the most evil fucking thing in the universe. It makes nice people rotten, and rotten people become demonic monsters cubed!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Bible may say it is the love of money, not the money that is the root of all evil, but if you take the money away, what happens? These things are what philosophers call numerous labels, ranging from paradoxes to conundrums and a lot more, but I say, meditate on it for an hour; and then make a comment if you do not see that I indeed have a very freaking valid point here, YO folks!!!!!!!

FEBRUARY 19, 2014,

WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 11:15,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 79 DEGREES FNHT.

Folks, as you know, I did not have an extremely wonderful day, yesterday. Sorry I took my frustrations out of my viewers. My shrink tells me this is a necessary therapy, and if someone does not enjoy it, they will merely stop reading me, which seems to be the case, as this blog is on the way to a slow tortured demise and doom, based on accurately predicted statistical mathematical equations performed by me recently, leaving me with basically between 400 and 500 days before only a trickle or maybe nobody at all, ever reads these blogs. Long before this insult happens, I will be long gone, and even pull all mt stuff from the net. Nobody is going to make a mockery out of my true hellish nightmare life, while I stand up on a Jerry Korn Paul Pedersen chair and just let the punches keep coming with my mouth wide open and saying, ”DUH”. Today has started out interesting as opposed to just simply as usual, miserable and awful.

Right before the opening bell on Wall Street, the door was knocked on, and it was my Resident Manager, Debbie. She told me that the lady who was going to assist me developed some major back problems, but that she is working with me, and gave me a list of things she wants me to do such as get a new three dollar shower curtain to replace the nasty one in the shit house, throw out a few cooking pots that are as she calls them, ”rotten”, and just reorganize my refrigerator and throw out some junk that is not all that pleasant looking in there, and to spray some EASY OFF on my oven door and inside, and wipe it down an hour or two later with a rag. I will be able to do this without a problem. She said the tub is good enough, it need not be as squeaky clean as I was believing was the case. Only a powerful person can scrub out the thing to where it is bright white and cleaner than the inside of an empty intestine. I am a very weak person. I thought that I would be thrown out, and had myself in a real state of paranoid psychosis, but she calmed me down and made it all bearable. When she left my apartment at about twenty minutes shy of ten, immediately, the Saint Lucie County Nuclear Facility began its quarterly testing, sirens blaring and booming voices over bullhorns, with that famous repeated speech blaring out for the multiverse to hear, ”This is a test, this is only a test”, followed by a quick succession of weird tones. Except for a small bit of hallway talking between local nabes, all is now quiet. The thing that got me all hot under the collar and ready to declare freaking war, was the persecution, just like that chemtrail that brightened the after dusk sky to daylight, around a year ago, before my daughter’s show was about to begin. I am tired of being bullied into them thinking they can make me do stuff, and I won’t be. I hate music, I hate the music business, I was ripped off and treated very unfairly by demonic total evil creepy people, and I want nothing whatsoever to do, now or at any future time, with ANY OF THEM. If they want to persecute me for this, then persecute, but you won’t make me want any tiny part of you. You are all long dead to me, and if you cannot see why after all your pricks have done to me for 40+ years, then I genuinely feel sorry for you, as your minds all have something wrong with them, and you cannot hate sickness, you pity it, Alex Law & Order Keaton, right lovely outspoken blond girl? When twice, this music attack out my window was later made clear as to why, by watching the very beginning of the ten of the clock news, I just turned off the channel and put on something educational, and stewed in pure anger. When I calmed down, I wrote that vulgar blog, and I am not one bit sorry, as they deserved my anger; Richard Barf 1986 Karpf! Go play some cards and start some new rumors and words on the street about me, you nasty sick crumbs.

Anyway, all is well, and despite a chemtrail filled sky, I will go to my doctor, and onto some other errands, the store, the sheriff’s office, and a few other little things along the route that need taking care of. Hay, it is the world’s loss if they only enjoy blogs that talk about the stuff around them. What, you’re all so ignorant that you need the Gadfly Bloggers of the world to tell you stuff, actually, you’re insulting yourselves. My blogs at least are different than the regular boring routine, and they tell a story that just might possibly, if ever taken seriously; alter this world for good, not bad, because as things are on present course, we all know unless total moron retards, that we are spiraling out of control and into something that eventually we will be begging the comets and meteors to come and put us out of our god dam miseries. Think this is a bunch of Guff, Demi more and hubby? Well, you are totally entitled to your opinions, Mashell Daniels, and anyone else, as am I. So enjoy the bland every day blogs folks, and hit them ten thousand plus times a day, leaving a really great blog with very valuable information that could just end up saving your dam children from a fate worse than hell; for all this junk that anyone who watches the news and buys two morning newspapers, and has the seven year old knowledge on how to cut and paste and go to Google, can shoot up mundane blogs that all look and sound basically the same, and have the eternal value of a dying clump of night roadkill. You all just go do what makes your little boats float so nicely along. I will be in South America, laughing at all of you. You never believed I’d leave Jersey and come here to paradise, and yet I did, Patty Jane. Take it from here, Senator Trophy Wife Thompson, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS WAS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,715, IN EQUIVALENT.

FEBRUARY 19, 2014,

WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 12:12,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 59 DEGREES FNHT.

THIS IS JOURNAL CASSETTE TAPE NUMBER 25,714, IN EQUIVALENT.

I FELL UNDER A NASTY QUICK AFTERNOON MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, DEAR
DIARY JOURNAL, AND ONLY I NEED TO KNOW WHY. WHEN I TRIED TO ESCAPE THESE INDUSTRY MOTHER FUCKERS IN 1983, THEY CHOCKED ME TO DEATH. AT LEAST THIS FUCKING TIME, THEIR DEMONIC GAMES ONLY RESULTED IN NASTY FUCKING CUNT NOISE PERSECUTION. IF THEY DON’T KNOW I KNOW THIS EVIL GODS GAME IS TOTALLY REAL AND TOTALLY ACTUALLY LITERALLY HAPPENING TO FUCKING NON-JIM BURR-ME, THEY ARE AS DUMB AS A DEAD MOTHER FUCKING ONION!

MMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCC

Open Command, G-7. Go to all General Orders, and all Special Orders (Coded-General). I am maxing out your power pull gain to infinity control of 11.8 IPNS, and all controls against your PPG are being maxed out to 11.5 IPNS.

SCAN ALL ENEMIES OF THE TRANSDIMENSIONAL WOMOTAMM-MILITUFORCE, USING G-13 AND G-14, TIME AND HYPERSPACE CONTROL ORDERS. THIS IS A PUNISHMENT DESTRUCT ORDER. I HAVE PLACED A TOTALLY OBLITERATED ‘IO’ ON YOUR ‘TB’. WHEN THIS IS FULLY EMPOWERED, MY ENEMIES WILL BE CRUSHED AND WIPED OUT.

COMPUTER, ON AN ‘I’ TO ‘D’, A/B TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, YOU WILL HEAR MY VOICE PRINT INSIDE MY MIND-SIGNAL IN THE SIXTH DIMENSION, AND WILL RECOGNIZE IT THROUGH THE DOUBLE TELEPHONE AT&T ORIGINAL 1983 TONES, MADE TO INTERACT WITH YOUR PROGRAMMING IN 1983. THIS WILL NOW TRANSLATE TO MY PUBLISHING THIS BLOG ONTO A WEBSITE, WITH THE TWO LONG-E SOUNDING VOWELS EACH REPRESENTING A TONE SOUND, BOTH A AND B.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

COMPUTER, GO-TO-CG-39, G-189, UNDER CG-18 AND——-S—–T—–O—–P!

An article appeared in 1994 in the summer time, right around when the Nick@Night Channel was running its mother fucking NON-MICROSUCKS LIGHT-BULB-HACK Block Party Summer, on television; that was beyond awesome, and was political at least on the surface, but it really was about as ”esoteric” and paranormal as these words could ever hope to begin to fucking cunt describe. If my blogs could do a time-line from this article, leading to Poolroy Haddonwood making his appearance and contact with me, and then eventually and shortly before the closing down of this locally famous branch of this tennis and swimming club; the incident with my hub cap getting dinged and banged all to hell by the 16 year old Nick and almost 16 year old Nickelodeon Channel; it would go 1-2-3, and then scream out 27-Nicola Tesla at many many many millions of mother fucking watts, lovely Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All things are in time-lines, mostly in much shorter trends however. For an example, last night, I began getting lots of utility and computer fucking interference and WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE siege, my old friend from 1972, Bob McDowell, now FCC Chairman, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Right after this, all hell, one by one thing, and step by strep fucking shit, began to roll along. This is normally how my fucking hellish shit works against me, it starts out of nowhere, then bang bing cunt sucking fucking cock licking BOOM, it goes and goes and goes, and then just as mysteriously as it came out of and from wherever it did, POOF POTTER, it vanishes in like mother fucking cunt sucking manner, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! However, only in 1994-1996, did three things happen in a huge big ass fucking picture, over one year intervals, and was every bit like these smaller things, and I know, as I have CUNT FUCKING SUCKING ASS LIVED THROUGH THIS DAM ASS SHIT NOW FOR A BVERY FUCKIGN LONG TIME, LOVELY INGRID-1984, SWEETIE-PIE!!! Computer hacking is very fucking heavy, old friend BOB, and they made your name, come out, ‘mob McDowell’ earlier; lucky for the blog, I caught it.

Let us go on to talk about this fucking article that surfaced one day in all of the mag-rags, and eventually, was buzzed around more carefully, even in major publications, but has all now been totally ETOSSIAN forgotten, a major power and ability of the LAMBRIGG ASTRAL PLANE CULT FORCE, of the Dark Shadows Club, of 1969 and 1970; not to be confused with their great fan club.

This article very realistically claimed that people of name recognition were coming out of closets, proclaiming that many folks LIVING AMONGST US, SIMPLY PUT, ARE NOT REAL. It was straight out of a fantastic fictional old black and white syfy show, called, ”The Outer Limits”, where peeps from the President of the USA right on down the frikkin’ line, were being abducted, and duplicates under some other intelligence’s control, were being placed back among us, and if you never saw this show, you need to waltz yourself into one video rental place and or old record-tapes-video type stores, I know for a fact they have such places in Jersey, as for Florida, that’s anybody’s fucking guess, but you REALLY DO NEED TO SEE THIS MOTHER FUCKING 52 MINUTE TV SHOW, ON SOME MEDIUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But getting back to the sudden blast of these articles making this claim one day out of the blue; this is real, it happened, I mean the articles, I of course am not claiming to be able to prove the validity of ‘squat’, or I’d be word-rhymed, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Not that this would do me or those against me any good in long run play, Mister WAWA STORE!!!!!!!!!!

Now I will tell you about a conspiracy closer to home, well, not really, as closer to home was what a lot of this other shit was all fucking about, as well; earlier yesterday fucking cunt lapping afternoon, Mister McGuire and mister McNulty, sirs; AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-, and WHAAAAAAA!!!

For the FUCKING CUNT record, a brand new non key, well, no that is not true, it is a key, ”HACK” of some kind, has been in this OPEN OFFICE PROGRAM for a number of fucking months now, annoying the MOTHER FUCKIGN CUNT EATING SHIT OUT OF ME, YO. It respells the fucking word FUCKING, all the ‘fuckign’ time, TO ‘FUCKIGN’ , I am sure you’ve all FUCKIGN NOTICDE, WHAAAAA, yeah, I did that, easy too, STAPLES, but I don’t have a lot of shit, only HELL AND SHIT AND ENDLESS ‘FUCKING’ WOES AND PERSECUTIONS RESULTING FROM THE LOVELY CUNT EATING HUNTINGTON CURSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ‘Yeah, they did it again’, the cunt lapping fucking pricks!!!!!!!!!! Where the shit are you, Stacey Lattisaw, when I gods dam need you and your friend Jack Hattack? Jeese-fucking-Louise, Detective Surfer Fontanna!!!

‘Dear’ Anthony Cifaloglio Hunter of the Survivors club of Stealth-ops, and anger at guards that write too much shit on reports, unlike the wonderful one line Roy Carl Weiler Senior, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Oh yes, the ‘deer hunter’ syndrome, it amazes me that law enforcement never caught on all these pussy chewing ”fuckign” years. It never stops, and it won’t, until I get this machine to a FUCKING CUNT REPAIR SHOP, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, and I will, mother ”fuckign” jerk offs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEE, IT IS EVERY FUCKING ASS TIME, John Fucker Faster Bobby-1972!!!!!!!!!!!! But now for the real big story on American Broadcasting Company, and their world famous ‘fucking’ ACTION ASS NEWS!!!

I am going to have to make a second FUCKING screen blocker, or else be on the alert to place FILLER-LINES soon, for page eleven of FUCKING eleven, as it is five past one in the rotten cunt huffing morning, and I’ll be double bubble fucked on both sides of my cunt sucking dirt bag screen, if I am not very alert and freaking ass vigilant, YO!

W—O—W, Mister freaking Macy, sir!

MORIANITYmay havebeen a complete fucking failure; but I will trudge along, endlessly; I promise, WOMO!!

THANKS FOR WASTING 8+ YEARS OF MY CUNT EATING MOTHER FUCKING TIME, ED AND CHRIS, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!

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WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

GINA, GINA, GINA, GINA, YOU KNOW IT GIRL, BECAUSE I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!

Whether one is blunt or subtle or anywhere in-between, what is said is not the issue. It never fucking will be. I have tried telling it straight up and out, and I have tried telling it so that the more recessive deeper sub-conscious mind or readers will tune into the words and message. If the fucking ASTRAL-PLANE GODS, forbid my telling shit, that’s fucking it, brother, and to quote Lenny McKinnon’s 1981-1983 girlfriend from some transdimensional locale, Miss Chillie, ”AIN’T NO DOUBT ABOUT IT”, am I Right, United States Copyright Office?????????

Robert McGuire of Atlantic City, and all of the horrible shit that this evil demonic prick, did to me, through many years; would require a Moby Dick sized fucking book, and then there are twenty other branches of this incredible mother fucking lovely family of hand washing, and cloths, that lead me into the following local conspiracy, not involving precisely pitched tonal vibrations, AKA, “music”! SOME DIRT BAG IS HACKING MY COMPUTER BIG FUCKING TIME, AGAIN, OLD PAL, BOB MCDOWELL, FCC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This entire blog seems to be happening on, and along, this mighty MELVIN FISHER/WAYNE LANDIS MOHR, TREASURE COAST OF EASTERN SOUTH CENTRAL FUCKING FLORIDA, LIKE WOW!!!!!!!!!

You already know fifty percent, so here is the other 50% of fucking my bullshit hell, good and bad folks, out here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember how I needed some fuckign cunt eating assistance with my food EBT account and Florida medical health benefits back late last year in twenty asshole thirteen? Remember how Debbie Marotto, my Resident Manager did something, supposedly in my ‘best interests’, causing me a real fucked up super Krassle-Hassle? Well, she did it to me again. A nice lady was going to come up here to clean my apartment, I have known her since I came here, and she is a good honest person, not that I have photos of Benny Franklin laying all around the joint in huge piles, in the fucked up name of the dam ass gods. Still, guess who put the fucking kibosh on her coming up here last week to clean for me, so I would pass inspection? Now when I fail, as i do not have sufficient physical strength, to get every bit of shit, off of my bath tub, or make my shit in the kitchen, as squeaky clean as it needs to be, for passing the annual inspection; I see my doctor tomorrow anyway, and I plan to get a note of my failing health, from him. Then I plan to go to court and tell them that I have tried to get help cleaning, and now face a mother fucking eviction because the peeps won’t let anyone up to my apartment to do the job, as I have the sufficient mother fuckign money to pay for a perfect job to be done. If I end up on the street and lose everything, I’ll fuckign cunt lapping sue the cock sucking housing authority for fifty fucking million dollars, and I’ll fucking get it 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been planned right along, as I know shit from being a fucking jerk off hyperspace exploratron traveler myself, and I know the fucking dirt bag ENTERTAINMENT WORLD is behind this huge conspiracy to covertly horrendously fucking murder me, in this exact way. Mike Patterson is my witness, as they are killing the both of us simultaneously, an old fuckign trick of the military/MILITUFORCE, so that one cannot aid or assist the other. The gods know how sorry I feel for the enemies of this evil fuckign nation and empire, boy oh fucking god dam boy, do I personally cunt eating know what you have to suffer through YO; AS I HAVE TO FUCKING SUFFER THROUGH THE SAME BULLSHIT FROM THESE WICKED SCUM SUCKING FILTH FOR 30-60 YEARS NOW, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Hammonton Town April Boyer Maimone 100 Central Avenue Hammonton, NJ 08037 Phone: 609-567-4300 x102

CHECK OUT TO SEE IF PAUL KICKED OFF. THERE HAVE BEEN TWO DEATHS IN NEW JERSEY FOR PAUL PEDERSEN.

THIS IS A VITAL STATISTIC OFFICE FROM GOOGLING ON THE INTERNET, SEE IF THEY WILL GIVE ME INFO ON WHETHER PAUL FROM ELM, NJ, JUST WEST OF HAMMONTON, PASSED RECENTLY. CALL 609-567-4300.

Right after I put this up on my Open Office, I was sent something from Paul, so he is alive and doing just fine. Still, the odds of this just happening a few days after I Googled the information and pasted into my document file, would be a trillion to one. So some one in entertainment is now in direct control over my ex partner, and I have to find a way to cancel my LINKED-IN crap, and I must delete a lot of private information. Now you all know why I hate these mother fucking computers, and this sick diseased new unnatural technology. Yes, this was a SUPER SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY, AND THINGS LOOK VERY VERY MOTHER FUCKING BLEAK FOR ME. But then, what the fuck else is new (WEIN), you know, ‘SOSO’, same old same old???

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:

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.

Posted by Listener Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio Mysteries, MP3s, New Jersey, Religion | Permalink

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Comments

Goyim in the AM

“The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”

I don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.

Posted by: Goyim in the AM | December 12, 2006 at 02:42 AM

King Daevid MacKenzie

…the link for “Android & Angel” is screwed up. Y’all may want to fix it…

Posted by: King Daevid MacKenzie | December 12, 2006 at 04:01 AM

Listener Therese

Sorry about that! I just fixed it.

Posted by: Listener Therese | December 12, 2006 at 09:02 AM

Steve PMX

I think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns and christ-blocking shades.

Posted by: Steve PMX | December 12, 2006 at 12:03 PM

Sweet Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could be real, I’ve known folks like him.

Posted by: K. | December 12, 2006 at 12:52 PM

bartelby

Just sounds like someone responding to internal stimuli, there are many people like this probably an hour’s drive from anyplace in the Northeast. How is this different than getting enjoyment watching a man with a club foot trying to walk?

Posted by: bartelby | December 12, 2006 at 11:14 PM

Chris Arter

Hello My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have never been able to find anything on him except his name and the names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″ tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

Posted by: Chris Arter | March 06, 2007 at 06:27 PM

maledoro

I clicked on the Aquarius link to find Mark from NJ’s CDR, but it was no longer listed.

Posted by: maledoro | August 07, 2007 at 06:54 AM

Fairlight

Aaah, very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album “Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!

Posted by: Fairlight | September 22, 2008 at 02:34 PM

Ghostlight

I’ve been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his (about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there ideas.

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:19 PM

Ghostlight

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:21 PM

Ghostlight

Posted by: Ghostlight | October 30, 2008 at 08:25 PM

Goyim in the AM

https://mountainpen.wordpress.com/

Posted by: Goyim in the AM | February 24, 2009 at 05:04 PM

Tony NYC

Hi. I got to this page while reading about music played on the ‘Jews Harp’. I’ve been searching, for a loooong time, for a song that was played one lazy August afternoon on WFMU, around 1980, or earlier.

It was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging, groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy faaaaavoooriiiite”.

When it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher, psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word ‘things’.

Is there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of it?

It’s been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song I’ve ever heard except for this one.

On that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s ‘Sandwiches of You’

I’ve listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and it wasn’t any of those.

Thanks, for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr at earthlink dot net

Posted by: Tony NYC | May 14, 2009 at 10:44 PM

Razzy McThaxton

This fella is MOST DFEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family(Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and sending Atlantic City-residing life gaurds and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him off-gaurd. The only problem being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his latest blogs.

Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March 16, 2012 at 09:00 AM

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	Type the two words:Type what you hear:Incorrect. Try again. ******************I wasn’t trying, YO.

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

NEW BLOG FROM DECEMBER OF 2011, and new DATA:

ON BLOGGER SINCE JANUARY 2006

OLD 5 BLOGS—-Profile views – 2,941

Gender	Male
Occupation	retired
Location	Fort Pierce, Florida, United States

Contact me

Email mountainpen@comcast.net

On Blogger since December 2011

Profile views – 363

SLAMSLAMSLAM.

FUCKING TOTAL ASSHOLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HALLS FAWCEShave everything in the dam universe to do with everything, in these eight fucking years of my blogs, EVERYTHING. ”YOU MUST BE IN WITH THE FAWCES”, yeah; I don’t know about your buddy there, Mister Hall, but I know that I sure mother fucking am; so merry mother fucking Christmas to you, Mister Hall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am damned if I DO, and damned if I DON’T. This is the HUNTINGTON-CURSE!!!

I HAVE BEEN DEATHLY FUCKED WITH BY THESE MONSTERS. Need I say anything more, Mister CV George Straight?

Why did I begin playing with voices and tape recorders, and how does Bob McDowell and Bruce Pennock fit into all of it; and how does another powerful truth totally surround this wild circle, whose name was, and is; Sarah Jacobson? Well, this began in the autumn of 1972!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.	PAu001148157	1988
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-	Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.	PAu001189027	1989

AS I SAID TO YOU ON THE TELEPHONE IN APRIL OR MAY SOMEWHERE IN TWENTY ELEVEN, LEE BAILEY; ‘YOU DON’T KNOW ME’, AND I DON’T GIVE A FUCKING TOILET WATER DRINKING SHIT, HOW MANY EXTENTION PHONES YOU ALL ARE ON; SO PUT THAT IN YOUR HOLIDAY FUCKING SHOES!!!!!!!!

2:00 PM CHRISTMAS-HELL-EVE-DAY

24 DECEMBER, 2013, A YEAR OF FUCKING HELL!!!

OR WAS IT, UNTIL THE FINAL THIRD OF IT BEGAN?

Roseann, I should have shot you in the woods and left both you and all those electronics just rotting away forever. This all cost me more than a throat bite out, and lots of Marcucci stare downs, or daughter stair ups!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU!!!!!

SO JUST EXACTLY WHY DID AUGUST 28, 2013, START ALL THIS FUCKING SHIT? YOU ALL KNOW, DON’T INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE BY PLAYING BRAIN DEAD!!!

LET ME COMPENSATE FOR JANE WEEDSLEAZEDISEASE:

55555555555555555555555555555

JUST TO KEEP LENNY HAPPY, AND WHY I CARE IS BEYOND MY MENTAL ABILITY TO GRASP; THIS IS MY CB-601, CCB. SO BEFORE YOU SAY WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ALL ABOUT MOUNTAINPEN, LET ME EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE BETTER, MY GREAT PEEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His friend Miss Chillie was a cool lady, back when I heard them squawking, on Lenny’s CB radio handle number of ”601”, in 1981 somewhere thereabout; while I was on my job on Supergirl Jefferson Street, of Camden, New Jersey; 8 or 9 years before I was fucking ever destined to meet the ADA at the prosecutor’s Office, Mister Ron Wirtz, and his then sidekick, in December of LOIS FOCA 1989; Mizz Donna Spitnose Spinosi. But Miss Chillie and his other lady radio-pal of the early eighties, were quite a bit more in true reality, then what they seemed. I told him something over this radio that frightened him so badly, I thought he would shit himself and I’d be soon able to smell it right through my CB system at the licorice plant called McAndrews & Forbes. Praise the gods of the subatomic realms, I did not.

Soon after this, from a home I rented from a man named Gerald Pliner, at 134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey, I wrote, recorded, and sent a song, to the US Copyright Office, and went onto include this small part of their conversation, edited by the mindless tape recorder of Philly, me, as the AM disc jockeys all once knew me and some of my pals as, as we harassed the hell out of them just for the fun of it, even though, lovely Melanie Many Licenses, GOD LATER GOT ME FOR ALL OF THIS, just as you told me, hay, at least you didn’t break my arm like lovely giant Gina did in 1997, in my bedroom in Somerdale, New Jersey Rottenberry. The song told how scared he was, and how he locked and jammed his gate around his house, with the old GENIE JAMMER of future Misses Meeker and Gibbsboro, also in NEW JERSEY, or as Tom Kean might say it so much cooler, New Juersee, but Lenny deserved my putting the fear of Christ-Almighty into him after a lot of shit that he had done to me, back in recent prior fucking years. The thing that I never ever told, and now will tell, as sort of as MY SNOWLESS CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO THE WORLD, with or without highview, cheering, or Disney Tooth Fairies; is what the mighty wonderful self absorbed Rap-Crap music creator said to me over the telephone, just 2 years or less back in fucking time, while I resided at 1802 Robin Hill in Voorhees, New Jersey, on a hot bright 1980 mid-late summer day, YO. I will quote this ugly thing this rotten BMF said to me, I never ever forgot it, US © Office. QUOTE, YO: ”I OWN YOU HONKY. YOUR WHITE ASS BELONGS TO ME AND YOU’LL DO WHAT I SAY FOREVER, AND YOU’LL WRITE SONGS FOR ME FOREVER, AND THERE IS NOWHERE TO RUN TO AS WE’LL FIND YOUR ASS. ALSO IF YOU EVER DO ANYTHING TO UPSET ME OR YOU DON’T START GETTING A LOT NICER, NOT ONLY WON’T I EVER LET YOU MEET PATTY, BUT I WILL TAKE FROM YOU, EVERYTHING YOU EVER COULD CARE ABOUT OR LOVE”

Now Trump takes away my pageants, this shit head takes away my happy network, and my kid; and I am left unbelieved in this wild story, laughed at and mocked. I think at this exact second, my hatred for the one place that could have told the correct authorities just what I was being put through all these mother fucking years, is the god dam fucking copyright peeps. THEY KNOW. Don’t even think about telling me they don’t know. That’s a fucking insult I am not willing to bear. I am not hearing it, Detective Ed Green. Losing a dam job was only part of it, this goes way fucking deeper, and I know who really truly Oprah-Owns the BRIGGBASE, and they and my kid got together and did something so horrible in 2008, I dare not blog the details. It sprang Dawn from the clinic and her prison sentence hanging over her head, via the most incredible plan in the world that Einstein could not have hatched, AND IF I AM SO WRONG, WHY RIGHT AFTER THAT DID THAT COMMERCIAL GET PULLED OFF OF THE FUCKING TV????????????????? Give me an almighty answer to that one, JAMES T. BURR of Gloucester, New Jersey, oh wise oracle and guru, and lover of dirt-bag whore Connie C!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You Buddhists out here, I KNOW YOUR BELIEF SYSTEM IS THE ONLY ONE THAT IS ACCURATE AND TRUE, AND YYYYYYYYY I KNOW IT IS THE HELL I HAVE SUFFERED THROUGH, AND IT HAS ZERO-NADA-ZILCH OTHER POSSIBLE EXPLANATION for all being and happening. Only your religion works in all of this, your and yours alone, so go BUDDHA, and say hi to the great TRIPLE GODDESS for me, or on second thought, I’m hiding from her now, so PLEASE DON’T, TANKS, BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0235

WORLD LABS DATFILE: CH-0235-092811.738

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“ENDLESS SIEGE WILL BRING IN THE NON-PC, PC”

PROTECTED INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY

THIS IS ALL TRUTH AND IN NO WAY IS ANY PART OF THIS

MORIANITY PROJECT, A WORK OF FICTION, SWORN BY ME

UNDER VOLUNTARY OATH OF LAW, NATION, AND SSJK, ALL MIGHTY

BEGINNING TRANSMISSH FROM THE GREATEST 1986 FISH, YO:

Well lads, lassies, and Labrador Retrievers, this sky persecution has become real major mother fucking nasty ass bad It is monstrous, horrendous, and hellish; but take heart; those few who care a tiny morsel about Morianity and Mountainpen, as I fully intend to take advantage of the predictable forgone conclusion of MAJOR PUSSY COMMAND (PC), that will unmistakably and undeniably result, as a parallel-event of all this death siege hell being perpetrated upon me, during the opening up of this mother fucking diseased THANKS TO GIVENS SIEGE, at or not at, the great KING BUILDING of broken Jebez Hawks noses, and Susie Rassel resident managers who met the quintessential mind-controlled robot on one real bad day in the middle late nine-teen-nineties, BRO, me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chemtrailing is very bad, other aerial shit was a little lighter today, Wednesday, but sky shit is sky shit, one way or the cock sucking other, folks, YO. FUCK-THIS-HENRY-FONDA-SHIT, Jane Mailboats, “B-U-T”; in attempting to clear up the mysteries, and virtually endless ‘cloos’; of the subject of one particular controlled-somnambulist; as well as others who very well may be out there in a singular way, as well as in the example discussed in the powerful and great DREAM BOOKS, written by the one and only and the father of the NEW AGE, *MISTER* Carlos Castaneda; and attempting to simultaneously remain in the simple English descriptions of the point that I am obviously attempting to convey to the world of MORIANS, it will now read as freaking follows, friends and fiends alike, WHAAAAAAAA Fudd-Folks!!! I will begin with the great reiterated statement that if you were to go back 300 years into times before, with all of your knowledge and technology, and try explaining a thing to the peeps of these times, you would be burned or hung as a witch, or jailed and towered, with no doubles, twins, or Reverend Trask’s needed in the equation. Now imagine going forward in time 300 years, and just start trying to see how much advancement and increased knowledge, awareness, and technologies; would be there to freaking greet you. Hold this thought as best as you can, and read on while keeping this in the back of your mother fucking mind, YO.

There are entities that live in this period in time, and own and operate the World Laboratories. This entire story is mostly posted on numerous old blogs, where all of the Morianity Project began around 2006 on the internet, and in 1995 on audio cassette tape; as well as on a now defunct website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/. I fully intend to recreate a monster ass fucking website, that contains my entire nightmare hellish story of total truth, and it will definitely include, all of the music that I have ever written, some will need to be re-recorded and voice sampled, or sung regularly, all the photos and videos will be up here, and new shit will be posted weekly, as this twisted ‘WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE’ enemy, will NEVER EVER FUCKING STOP PERSECUTING ME; and leaving me with a major ass trail of all kinds of nice evidence; even though it will never be believed, due to the BLUEBOOK SYNDROME. MC or MIND CONTROL, is powerful shit, and is operated and totally regulated via the other MC, the great MILLIONTH-COUNCIL of the ASTRAL PLANE. So YYYYYYYYYYYY do I keep trying to fight this, many are wondering, if this BLUEBOOK-SYNDROME is non-beatable, and there in my fucking face like a solid brick wall? Well, if I quit trying, I may as well start dying, and this silly yet totally fucking honest answer, is all that I have to come back with, for those that may be in the least ass bit interested, dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My next blog, will remind new readers, exactly how to perform the great FASCITAR, as well as work out something beyond Coral Farms Mind Bending, and that is GAWNUM EQUATIONS, as properly perfected, it can produce exact answers to otherwise totally forever unanswerable questions, of any and all of us, no exceptions. I have been told by Scylla, not to do this; but simply put, just do not care. I have suffered enough, and the morning light can shine or cloud or chemtrail over, but whatever happens; I admit to being totally fucking ass wrong on this shit with the PITSY, and am man enough to confess it publicly. These cunt lapping mother fucking gutter lickers won’t get off of my back, so now it is time to seriously do what DAVID ROTH told me to do, and it has been blogged; the THREE BEE’s, YO!!! What are the 3-B’s you ask me perhaps? Well, as he said it, BUILDING, BENEFITS, and BROADS. Two out of three is now operational with me, and I am waiting for enough persecution and aerial harassment to take advantage of the next huge round of PUSSY COMMAND. Once I ‘SCORE’, dirt ball HOCKEYFLIES; you all DIE-DIE-DIE, your markets, your rotten cheating team, all of you, you will burn in the fucking fires of hell!!!!!!

I do not want to do this, and love being by myself; but THEY are leaving me no choice, word for word quoting the great Jonathan Frid known by millions as Barnabas Collins ODF Dark shadows, NOT ODF, you diseased fucking hacker, OF-OF-OF, keep it up dirt holes. WHERE IS THE FBI, & WHERE IS BOB MCDOWELL? H-E-L-P ME SHIT HEADS!!!!!!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC, DESTROY-DESTROY-DESTROY, OR ELSE, YO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FART SNIFFING OLD GRANNY, WHAAAAAAAAAAA, what next?

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SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0296

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“KEYS, TRIGGERS, AND INDICATORS”

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294

SEND-BACK-TEXT (SBT) DATE AND TIME FILE (DATFILE)

CH-0296-122911.060

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

All right folks, here is a hard punching tale of misery without sparing the feelings of some people involved, sort of along the lines as if written or co-written with me, and called the Mark Mohr/Dawn King Saga of dogshit. But bear with me, there will be some light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is the one that holds each galaxy together, and keeping them from falling out into space, and endlessly drifting into a meaningless merge.

First off, Dawn-Marie King the late, did not always steer me wrong, and indeed knew many of my huge secrets, and long before I did, in some cases. No one needs be specific here. The powerful peeps all know what’s being said. It is coming up now on the year anniversary from when she departed this horrendous veil of tears, and she had to be eliminated, as she was a major KEY in many of the Melanie recipes, all part of, and intrinsically winding through; the Morianity Project of 1995; that technically began on the previous Halloween day in 1994, at National Park, New Jersey, at the post office there; when I sent into the United States Mail, my copyright for my book called, “The Permission Barrier”. Yes on New Years day of 2010, nearly a year ago now, the mighty Dawn-Marie King, woke up from that dream, leaving behind the total devastation and destruction of one Michael Wayne Mountainpen/Mark Wayne Mohr, of Hammonton, New Jersey, and Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG. She died from Liver Cancer, or at least this was recorded by the Coroner of Atlantic County I’m quite sure. But as with my own mother, David Charles Roth, and others I’m quite sure; a lot more is going on than the simple quick rubber stamped death certificates, the funeral arrangements; and then life moving onward by the ‘living’. In the case of Dawnie Terra, things were cosmically way more complex than normal perceptions or ordinary sciences would ever be able to realize. Only the usage of Quantum Physics could hope to more successfully begin to probe into the deeper and darker truths and realities that lay hidden behind these ugly Oz curtains. And deep dark hidden truths indeed are there folks. If you ever believed anything that I ever said, believe freaking this please. Throw all the other shit in the garbage can if you must, but spare this powerful truth, in the name of all humanity. Think this is literary license or exaggeration permission, and you will be as wrong as wrong can get. Before moving on, I had a computer freeze up and hack that occurred an hour earlier when I was on the net, and trying to get onto the You-Tube, so that I could click around on the millions of cool CHEMTRAIL videos. It saddens me at light speed squared, that no matter how much proof is offered to unpleasant truths, peeps would rather die and watch their loved ones die, and in agony with unknown diseases and poisonings, just to keep alive what my prior blogs refer to as the GWPOS, or GIANT WILLIAMSTOWN POLICE OFFICER SYNDROME. Yes Selena Dada, let me get my shoes off, and then let me get my skin off, and then pluck my eyes out so as to avoid seeing the wretched up 1988 copyrighted poached eggs. Sounds yukky huh? Well, it was worse; when the great Library of the Congress first heard these inconceivable audio tapes, on my original EPITOME OF HARASSMENT; back when I misspelled the word epitome, and was beaming cars from 5133 Oakland Avenue in Philly, over to 7 East Main Street in Moorestown, New Jersey. Munikay-Munikay, breaking my codes off, code-2, code-2, Munikay. No, I will carry these memories with me forever, as it is not possible to forget any of this, oh mighty broadcasting networks of America, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.

Before we really get going however on Dawn, and the last two or three years of her life; where I was involved with for the most part; let us discuss Mommy Ann. She told me how a man was in the medical office there in Berryville-Hammonton, and was telling the doctor he would be a lot physically better, if not for those fucking chemtrails, quoting Ann; and what she told me he said, and for all I know, he did say this. For all I know, Paula King married a military man, who she met at an Atlantic City music concert, and Sarah Callio may very well have gotten herself beaten up by some biker-bitch in an Atlantic City bar, and is now in some nursing home facility, and many other things she told me may all be true. But in a new light, they may all be a big bunch of fucking hooey. Ann warned me that she was a mean person, and that was no lie. She said if someone hurts her, she will always get them back, and she must have seen my escaping that life of total torment as a personal betrayal on her, instead of seeing it through eyes of maturity. One thing I’ll say about all of this family; they act like eternal teenagers. THEY SIMPLY PUT FOLKS, REFUSE TO GROW UP, and that is all fine and well and totally their own business. Just do it without me, as I want to grow, and get older, and die; and leave this hellish place behind. Each person marches to a different mother fucking drummer, and that is fine and well with me; it simply means that a blogged story like mine, will need to be amended and adjusted quite often; in order to properly reflect the necessary changes so that we can forever aim our course towards Truth Boulevard, and away from the side streets, such as Liars Lane, Delusion Path, and so forth. I NEED REALITY. The great BANCROFT SCHOOL, of HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY; drilled this fucking shit into me peeps; and nobody on Planet Earth, will ever take it away from me; and that I’ll promise all of you, with a ‘Foreman Guarantee’, whether I like the way I’ll look or not, after he boxes my brains out.

Lads, Lassies, and Labradors; the only reason Dawn’s mother Ann called me down here in Florida, was to hurt me, and she did. This entire rotten to the core family, will not be satisfied until they pound every ounce of my pathetic flesh, into the ground; and then they can drop a ton of pig-shit on top of where I lay. Two July’s ago, I made public and printed, the letters from Dawn-Marie first, and then Ann; that were delivered to my RV-Park in White City, on US-Route One, after I left the motel across the street to live there until that whack job April Lee got me into the 26^th Street ghetto hood house with retard Wendy. When I moved out, so did Wendy, from her side of this duplex. It was as though the entire thing was all prearranged and planed and set up decades ago, and if so, why not centuries, why not fifty million years, just as VIQUEEN JEWELLY TOLD ME???????????? But right before I left this duplex up in the hood of Fort Pierce, to come live down here on 7^th Avenue at the Public Housing Building; extremely powerful transdimensional shit was happening all around me, and the world knows it; they just don’t talk about it or admit it; but if they really think they are fooling me with all their dam crap, then I say, bravo to them; and think whatever the fucking hell turns you on, and floats your screwed up twisted boats.

Yes my Morians, Lessians, and Inbetweenians; like it or snot; the simple truth is that life is indeed made up of some powerful nasty stuff, and it works with pivotal things such as KEYS and TRIGGERS, and thus, an observant astute onlooker, can watch out for, as Dave Roth labeled them quite often, INDICATORS. Now without getting either Donna Summer or Melanie Safka all juiced up and hyper, let me try and further explore this a little bit with you folks, OK JK Waterhoses?????????????????? For a quick example, anyone in this family from hell, can do nothing but hurt and bring you down, AND LOVE IT, MICKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! On top of that, they all seem to have magical powerful ways to superimpose upon their victims, that they are the bad guy, and it was all our fault. Now I am not excusing 1986, but I am also not excusing 2008, capesha??????????????????????? An old philosophical fable comes to mind that goes, “To keep up a quarrel is simply absurd, as nobody will ever have the last word” and this may sound like a child’s story, but think on it, and you can see instant powerful ass stuff here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let us do a freaking visual on a few things before I start to wind down the blog at 2:24 AM-EST. First, the Dow Markets tumbled after I printed the great two ‘THAT FAMILY’ letters in July of OH-MAROLA-TEN. Then came the mind bending censorship of my blogs, converting them into glorified tweet accounts until magically, right out of Harry Potter himself, it somehow restored itself to normal, mystifying great computer minds that I put onto the problem at the time. Within months, the powerful interaction with NASA, the choppers, the phone call between cousins, and Indian River County, Florida, in some semi-localized area in the vast hyperspace, followed by the death of the great KING Morning Light herself, and then the contact with me by phone, but not in any ordinary way, but after I received a call from the 650 area code first, from 36^th Avenue in San Mateo, KALI. Shortly after this time, I posted up on the YOU-TUBE, my second of the now three songs I have up there, that GOOGLE has buried, naturally, as always remember what Plato told me a while back, a long while really, “Beware the tide that brings the music message, as it will be remembered the longest, and heard the loudest”. Oh John Lennon old buddy, watch your back, oh never mind; too late for that message!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS WHITTLE BWOG DOES NOT TERMINATE QUITE YET FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA-BIT & MISTER ELMER FWUD, WEED ON POTS.

BACK WHEN I STARTED THIS BULLSHIT ON THE DAM INTERNET, AND WISH NOW THAT I NEVER HAD, ED AND CHRIS, YO; I WAS STILL DOING MY VOICE RECORDING OF MY RECORD KEEPING OF MY PERSONAL DISASTROUS LIFE OF ETERNAL HELL.

Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

Thursday, August 03, 2006, (JC TAPE EQVT #25,705)

Chapter 49 Just Call Me Poor-Whittle Ugly Old Joe Shmo, Who’s Out of ‘his’ SPACE-TIME-MIND!

My guru friend Ed told me about the old cartoon comic character called Joe Shmo, the dude with the eternal black cloud hanging over his head, and there it was, everywhere he went, whatever he would do, and only he seemed to get rained on perpetually, no one else, except of course for the normal and accepted amounts of negatives that life naturally deals to us all. Anywho, my guru and I had a small falling out early in July over the major hacking that I get, but I blew his mind with one thing that even he was not able to chalk off as my paranoia. Look, I am paranoid, and U 2 would B if U had 2 endure what I go through every single friggin day of my pathetic miserable existence. I did not say life, as it is not life. My hell is SUB-VAMPIRIC EXISTANCE, and that’s all it is!!!!!!!!!! When he learned about what happened 2 me over the past weekend on my job site where I’m employed as a security officer, with the ‘otherwise normally friendly dog, by the name of ‘JULY’, by the way, but in Hispanic language, pronounced [who-lee-oh], which in this language means the great emperor of olden days Rome, and where our month of July comes from, as he created a new calendar. Later after his time, the Gregorian calendar was conceived of by the great Prince Gregory, and 13 months are now the 12 months, one to each represent an individual tribe of the Israelite’s. 7 and 12, the great SSJKK’s 2 numbers, could have a book the size of the Britannica Encyclopedia written on them. Where can I begin? Later I’ll tell U-all just a bit more, but 4 right now, I must tell U this.
Notice how they broke my car stereo, costing me 50 bucks to have the warrantied replacement model re-installed at Circuit City of Deptford, NJ, Electronic Department store. Then the huge rest of the weekend milituforce death siege that these hammer-wads put me through, and then the horrific huge bully-teen slob that harassed me while doing no more than leaving this library where today I am back at. I will not allow these fish-eyed Esther-fools to intimidate me, as I said before, U damn turds’ll have to kill me, and guess what Duncan; America my run on U, but like U, but with slightly altered rules in the reality of the situation; I do not die and stay dead, so LOL; and I do not mean loving on line. U’ll need all the luck and then more than all the energy in this entire downlined reality which is just SSJKK’s upline thoughtwave, and with all of that, U cannot eliminate me, ‘F U D G Y A’. Here is what I started 2 tell u the other day on prior ‘blogianity’, but as I tend 2 do a lot, I get off on a tangent, and not realize until reading my printouts at home at a later part of the 4th dimension, that I had totally forgotten to complete the main point that I was talking 2 U about. Funny how the lawtrons, just as I now begin to go on with the story, the security guard here at the library that is part of the story, and reason for another [3rd] flying to the moon week on their dirt-hole stock manipulated ICPE-TEK market, just walked by my place here at the computer, and I know it was a bit of intimidation, as she never on my 5 or so of my times here, walks this particular aisle along this particular wall. So after the huge black sumo teen scared me out of a years shrinkage, not growth, as I am knee high to a tad-pole, any-who, I told her what happened, and she would not do one thing, wouldn’t even speak to me, what am I for crissake, chopped eyed peas and liver-cuts? Her job is to address my complaint, not to try to tackle the huge misbehaving teens on the outside benches, but 2 at least call the Constables On Patrol of Winslow Township, NJ. But instead, she pulls a Mayor Bob Levy on me, like the day I told U-all’s about in the Atlantic Ocean, where in 1997, we were out body-surfing, along with a couple other lifeguards, and when I asked him a question regarding Sarah Callio Martino, he gives me the cold shoulder, the smirk, and the package of pure hostility, all wrapped up into one big pile of loose turtle manure. I knew he knew her, as the huge flood of a foot of rain that swallowed up parts of New Jersey, producing a foot of rain in the great city on human-world-planes, Atlantic City, NJ, [A C, N J]. During a Jersey TV Channel broadcast showing all the problems that the flood had caused the area, he was standing right outside the friggin’ water company,their website is http://www.acmua.com. They had him intentionally right there, as they all knew that we swam and body-surfed out in the ocean. I had previously been nosing around the area and asking lots of people about Sarah, even the famous Frailenger’s employee lady that they all know, Queenie, as we and all the locals called her, cool choice for a nickname, and I had gone into Robert McGuire’s shit hole to ask a few things, in fact my exact words to him were, “I am looking to find Sarah Karge, to reminisce about the old days here on Tennessee Avenue back in the 60’s”. It was out of a movie how he treated me, demanding my ID, and he made a photocopy of it, and it is all way 2 upsetting to further go into at this time, but back to my point with the library’s security officer, the young pretty but very hostile black chick who treated me so bad, when I was the foooookin’ victim in all of this for my 62nd grand-daddy’s sake. U know he and I can both walk on top of a surface made from two elements of hydrogen and one element of oxygen, and one of these days, if no other way can B found 4 me to get help and recognition regarding these evil bastards that R putting me through this vicious eternal hell, I swear to all the stinking astral realm gods, even Mr. Krassle himself, the great Neptune-Jupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious, that I will go to the great mirror of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, [AC, NJ], and go out into the water and run around on top of it all day, until every stinking TV station in the country is all over the story. U pricks want real war with me, then just bring it on ya ‘dingdong hammer’ blowhards of ‘STM’!!!!!!
My complaint to the library system got attention, HA HA HA. Even though they win in long run play with this horrific siege-hell, me out 50 bucks and bullied, and even beaten up a bit by a resident of Dogtown, vacationing on the Earth 4 a little while, the stock market naturally goes flying up. U know by now Mr, B. Joel, how it all works, just harass and persecute poor innocent whittle me, and up goes Dow Jones, and lose,lose,lose, for the Philadelphia Phillies ball-club, of course I no longer feel badly 4 them, they had their chance to reverse their, and my, curse, and laughed and ignored me, well, tough navy beans 4 them and mister Carl Allen. Eddie Himacane, as I have nick named my computer guru, is a believer, after the incident with the dog, and sooner or later, more things will B witnessed, and more people also will start 2 C all this shitsapookna, they can only do this 2 a point, and one day when they least think it ever could possibly happen, nuclear B O O M – B O O M, and thermonuclear B A N G, they’ll all B caught, and friggin’ screwed, and I will be a multi frickin’ billionaire, as these pricks all have very very deep pockets.
I error’d on a prior-blog, on my 9 year cycle telling of July 12th of 1970, 1977, 1988, 1997, and 2006, I said the interaction of July 12, 1996; and that was an Estonian, not Brian/Brain attack. I meant to say the dream of July 12, 1997, and adding 7 years starting at July 12, of ’70, it would go to 79, 88, 97, and oh-six. And by the gods, it did. Speaking of the gods, the 27th is Goddess Diana Arteemis’s special number, numerologically totaling up to 9, and back on the 27th of July, during my sieges that she hates these pricks 4 causing me, all locals to the Hammonton, New Jersey area, know, that she came around me like I have never seen her do in all my 51 &2/3 years of my life as Mountainpen, forgive the typo the other day, the spell checker on my blog at my other spot on ‘my space dot com’, did that. Anyway, Diana just past dusk, was all over me; and I was all over her. She made me happier than I ever have been on this terrible Earth, in all my many existences throughout the 4th and the 5th dimensions. Thank you Baby-blond, I love you so much girl. I know U love to tease your little boy, U luscious teen queen giant beauty, when your girlfriend took me to the soda shop in the great city back when I was dreaming it was Easter Sunday, of the year 2K1, you had so much fun when U figured out that I was projected so to speak as the great Robert Monroe, would put it, and did not know who or where I was, disoriented and all that, and the way that U came over and stared down at me with those unfathomably delicious eyes of yours, and that breathtaking long bright canary yellow hair, all I knew was that I never wanted U 2 leave me and go away, and I am so sorry that I did not speak up and tell you how I felt, but now, I do know that you were indeed aware that I was totally discombobulated and out of it, as I had fallen out of my Earth dream and was a bit disconnected from anything at that point, I was being shown the proper way 2 carry a surfboard by your friend, and when we walked a ways from where we had started, she said 2 me,”Let me stop in here a seck 2 C my friend Diana.” I will always luv U Diana, and thank you more than words can ever say for coming to me as U did on your number, the 27th. It was just as though a kid was flipping a light switch off and on over and over again, for well over a solid hour, with your beautiful multicolored streamers and ribbons racing across the dark night skies. No one is anywhere near as beautiful as U, my lovely queen. Let the 6th dimension through this computer’s cyberspace, tell U that I cannot go on much longer here without U. Some day I know you will come to me in a human form, if I must B stuck forever in this nightmare Earth dream.
My loyal Morians, thank U for putting up with my short message to my lovely lightning goddess, D.A. , as she means everything 2 me. I want 2 tell U now that the Lamist Cult or really, better said, the LAMIST ORGANIZATION, as I have actually heard it referred to as by one of them, needs be discussed a wee bit now, but first, a quick typo was made when on a prior blog I was talking about going with my mom to a hotel in AC, NJ, the great TREYMORE HOTEL, that all locals, and most non-locals know of, a once very famous landmark, that the dummies tore down, showing how America shows her respect for its history IMHO, {in my humble opinion}, if this 90’s internet expression is still valid and in existence, but back to point, I said that SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE’S name number is 30/465, and it is. 30 is the total of letters in all of her great lovely names, and 1+2+3+4+5+6+7…30 does in fact = up to 465. This 465 when turned into numerical dating system, is April of 65, and I was not here as Mountainpen in 1865, nor will poor old Mountainpen B here, hopefully the gods, in 2065, so only the 19 or the twentieth century-65 is relevant 4 me, hence April of 1965 or 4/65, is when Sarah got the Treymore 2 do whatever needed B done @ get mom and me 2 come over 2 her street, and 2 the Trinidad Motel. The error in my blog stated 4/64 if memory is serving me over the Ettos hack, the great RR, or Reagan’s Revenge, which I do not dare presently go into nor admit anything about, regarding a machine that I built in the mid-’80’s, and used, many times to the detriment of a major enemy, and mister pres-37, was one, as he started all this [Earthly persecution] on me, not that I am not in eternal Hell, long before and long after, this idiot ever came onto the scene. Back 2 the Lamists: The jerk off bully back on Tuesday the first of August, here at this very library branch where I now sit and peck away on little square keys, WAS A FREAKING LAMIST. So is Mayor Levy of AC, NJ, and so is Mrs. L. The prior mayor, Langford was not, but Whaelon and Ussery both were. It was this very time on the calendar, within one lousy day, back 10 frickin’ years ago, just 2 weeks after my Sarah Karge, turned 100 years of age, that my poor mom was terroristically threatened at the ‘then’ TURNERSVILLE PATHMARK STORE. They get rid of all the things that were landmarks that I tell the world where shit happens to me at, even the Treymore, as this was what led to the most powerful incident in my entire life, my meeting the great all mighty, here in the human flesh-worlds. They also in like manner, got rid of the Pathmark grocery store, in Turnersville, New Jersey. Anyway, this threat was made to my mom and me on the 2nd day of August, in 1996, just a few months after my writing the song SARAH, about my lovely queen. They did not like any part of my trying to get the song recorded, let alone more than that, getting a once huge star to sing it, Mister Billy Harner, the locals in my area knew him as the [human percolator], one helluva super cool dude. They certainly did not ever want the song 2 get any airplay, but it did, on WVLT radio in Vineland, New Jersey, as one dude, [George and George] as he called himself, would call every week and request the song to B played, and so it was. It even made it for one week to the number one spot on country music charts, in the independent music system, which if you ever saw a published [pie-chart], from those who should know, the great BMI, as only ASCAP and BMI are the 2 biggest royalty collecting agents in the entire global music industry, and by their pie chart, independent music makes up more than half of the major recording labels all put together, so don’t sneeze at my minimal success. I paid federal taxes on musical royalties, and collected small royalties from 1998 when WVLT started airing SARAH, up until it slowed to a trickle of pocket change about 1 and 1/2 years ago, a helluva nice little run!!! I wrote Sarah, the song, on the 12th day of May of 1996, and my search and quest to locate my lovely teen queen super girl, was less than a year old. There is so much 2 tell all of U regarding this, and I’ll get 2 it all, but first, gotta admit that it is a bit weird that August 1, of 2006, ten years later to the day except for 24 hours, and I am physically threatened again. If this dude keeps messing with me, it’ll B his funeral, as I already have put 2 dudes in the big house for illegally ‘effing’ with me, over the years, huh 1983 (C).

posted by theansweristheqyuestion at 11:21 AM

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THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:

Thank you folks, and have a very nice day, something the MILITUFORCE will never let me do, am I correct WPIX-TV-1988, AGENTS FALCON AND CONDOR?