Mountainpen's Blog

CHAPTER 27, GTNOTG FROM PH-DAY OF 1996-(12/07/96)

December 31, 2015

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the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Chapter 27, Guess the Name of the Guests

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 27

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I never ever said that I was perfect!!! First off; anyone over four, who ain’t a total dam moron; already knows that ”nobody is perfect”, just like my old Cooley Wormhole Hall, Mister Bruce Allan Pennock used to say so dam often, right other pal from there, and ex-FCC Director/Chairman, Mister Bob McDowell????????

Roulette is impossible to beat unless you try to cheat when the dealer isn’t looking; to quote the wonderful and totally beyond GAP Princeton University Science-Dude, Al Einstein, and good friend of my father, Mister Wayne Landis Mohr. Well, to quote Herby Letts when were having that December-1982 discussion, over at Everett Simpson’s Car Lot Office, in Magnolia, New Jersey, USA; “Don’t you believe it”!!!!!

In 1986, I used something given me, while I was sitting in a bath tub, at the Highview Apartments, of Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG; by Lightning Goddess Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis. It is called applied parallel event to roulette’s outside betting parameters. These would be the RED AND BLACK, ODD AND EVEN, LOW AND HIGH. Just plotting a stick figure graph of the twelve possible outside-bets, and then waiting for one of them to begin to heavily favor a NEXT-SPIN-OUTCOME selection, and playing that the next five times that that very same NEXT-SPIN-OUTCOME selection is indicated for being played, and playing with black gaming chips, averages winning four out of five times, with one win and one loss canceling each other out, leaving a plus three unit profit, minus possible zero vig house wins, that I used to cover with red chips anyway, or five dollars on the two zeros that would come in once in a while, losing me half of the black chip value or half of 100 dollars (50) bucks, but winning me 34 red nickel chips, actually 35 on the winning zero while the croupier (dealer) removes the losing red chip, so 35-1=34 nickels. I always played that way, and did not mind losing the five times that neither came in, as I was winning three black gaming chip units or 300, and then we would subtract the ten dollar bet five times for a nice $250.00 profit for making five bets. As I said, many times, a green house-vig would pop in, and then it still would be 300 because I would bet five non-green-vig bets, so 300 minus 40 on the times the zeros did not come up or 260, and then the five dollar red gaming chip times 34 minus the half lost amount on the black gaming chip, or 34×5-50=170-50=$120.00, or 260+120=$380.00. This was a nice little days work in about one hours time, for me, back in 1986; that is before all hell broke loose for me!!!!!

Now using parallel event between something that happens is an ‘A’ event, and what is coming up next that could be one of two possible but even chances to do so, is a ‘B’ event. All things set up to be measured in such a way, develop two lines of mathematical curvature in what is called long running play and extremely long running play, typically measured by many old-school professional gamblers as 10,000 turns or spins or throws hands, or whatever game is being played and measured, along with 100,000,000. That is (TEN-THOUSAND) and (ONE-HUNDRED-MILLION) when the digits are spelled out with English words. The smaller number is the square root of the larger number, and of course, like DUH, the larger number is the squared value of the smaller number, 1×10 EXP. 4 verses 1×10 EXP. 8. No folks, I do not know how to use a computer keyboard to write exponential raised digits, so my EXP of course, stands for the word ”exponent”. After a very short while, I grew bored, and to quote the pro-gamers, I grew stupid. I began not to wait for an increasing parabola curve of future signal plays to merely bet five non-green-vig bets and leave with a guaranteed profit after any five games were played, or more when the green vigs would pop in. I thought I was invincible, and very shortly, the great New Jersey casinos had cut me down to size, and laughed. And rightfully, they should have. BUTTTTTT folks; if you play either in this way or by using a ratio system that most pro-gamers know about, that signals win/loss ratio changes before actual unit losses would cause a player to lose his or her winnings; you can have un unlimited income for life, and never need to work for some cock sucking asshole boss and company, ever. What made me be stupid as hell? Simple; and I will say it no matter how many times you all get sick to death of hearing about it. EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, FROM GOOD OLD 1971.

Sarah Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet

AND I WILL LOVE THIS ALMIGHTY AND TOTALLY UNFATHOMABLE GOD FOREVER AND FOREVER AND FOREVER, AND SHE KNOWS IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS, EXPLORATRONS

I can even live with 88 Herbert Huntington Curses and not erer darkening a doorstep ever again, or wondering if I am darker than anyone else. I cannot live with ignorance and how society is beyond the pale dumb-ass when it comes to the reality of symbolism. Sarah Krassle only spoke three things to me that I will have etched into my mind in Moses Stone forever and forever. These three items she spoke, only one of them did she speak it directly to me. This time, it was not here but in a parallel universe. One thing that she did not ever say, was as follows:

”MIZZ BOZWELL, MIZZ BOZWELL, DARYL JONES, DARLY JONES, BWADLEES”; WHAAAAAAAAA-BIT!!!

1) You’re friends are in the shop.

2) I’m darker than you are.

3) Let’s play a game, boy, called, “Guess the Name of the Guests”.

This final one was in a powerful dreaming trance in early December of 1996, while the first two were in the middle of the year of those last two year digits inverted, 1969. The first one was on Memorial Day the 30th of May, while the second one was somewhere in JULY of 1969.

Now in-between all of this, came many other things. She said stuff, and she even sang lovely songs to me. In early June of 1980, she sang that song in a powerful dream while I was residing at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees, NJUSAESMWG, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”, or for short, I have called this the LOIS FOCA song!

I still would rather be extra paranoid and safe, than totally naïve and too stupid to recognize any of the potential dangers, and I most definitely DO NOT apologize, if this pisses anybody off. As the old late sixties song goes, ”I GOTTA’ BE ME”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is no ONE WAY STREET, merely streets where the law makes it legal to only drive in one direction. I am living with people who would not appreciate it if someone came over to them and handed them keys to the gates of anything they could ever desire to have. Why this entire society has not collapsed,just further fucking proves to me, beyond doubt; that this is all just one huge simulationogram, Professor Kaku.

Blockbuster and places like this have all gone out of business. I will be talking to the K-MART and the Walmart electronics managers to see what to do and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, to rent and buy video and movies, as this online shit can go suck my dick. I am not buying and trusting giving out any personal info, and I am therefore unable to do squat on this fucking cunt lapping computer and internet! I WILL get that dam movie, THE RING, and I WILL learn what I need to learn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted so badly to be with my Diana (The Lightning Goddess of the Earth), out in the Purgatory, but kept drifting away and out into hyperspace! I can add in here a timeless phrase that abbreviates the very well know terms of “same old-same old, what else is new, same shit on a different day”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOSO-WEIN-SSDD

Then the people that I was with, panicked for reasons I did not understand, and ran; and I mean they fuckiGN booked fast and furious, to quote the movie, in this dimension anyway, as I do not know if that movie exists in that world that I was interacting in, through my doppelganger-me who lives alive and awake in the physical body that I merely was energetically inside of, creating this ”dream”, or really, NIGHTMARE! There were two very mean ugly looking men about the same size and age and build, not alike by any means facially, and they had guns and flashlights. They both had their flashlights in hand, and shining on me. Then they pulled out their guns and shot me and shot me and shot me, and I was bleeding all over the place in horrible fuckiGN agony, until finally bleeding out, and then I awoke out of that hell, and back here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been traveling throughout endless dreams for endless infinity, and am totally aware of it. You all on the other hand have also been traveling throughout endless dreams for endless infinity, and are merely totally UNAWARE OF IT, YO!!!!

OH GREAT GODDESS OF LOVELY PINK, HOVERING AROUND THIS MILKY WAY GALAXY, I KNOW YOU ARE OUT THERE, AS I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE TOO. THERE IS NOTHING THAT YOU ARE UNABLE TO DO, LOVELY AWESOME JEHOVAH SSJKK. IWALU-990-990-990-990!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 26

I have some major things to really be dam pissed off about, in addition to all my other larger problems and woe-wiz-me’s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First, dirt bag ION-NETWORK for no good reason, removed my wonderful television show, “LAW & ORDER” a week ago, after only having it on about a month, on Wednesdays. They can keep their rotten station, I am boycotting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is practically no part of my body that is not in pain. When I bought that mother fuckign mattress a year ago, it was the hardest one available without spending a grand. My back hurts just as bad as it did with the softer one, as only a hotel-hard mattress would allow me to have relief, and I don’t know where or how to get one without being a mother fuckign millionaire. My asshole is sore ever since that god dam fuckiGN doctor roughed me up and ‘prison-rodded’ me, at his office a couple months back. I need cataract surgery and have to live with shitty vision where the daytime glare sucks a prick. They won’t remove them until they reach a thicker larger size, whatever that fuckiGN cunt ass is. My back and some other history, caused my left hand to develop a fuck up in the nerve, and ever since December 8, 2014, four days after being in my sixties when everything began falling apart, poof, this has been another unpleasant annoyance to deal with. All of these things began when I was cut off of my medications that I had faithfully taken, and kept me feeling fine for the most part, for 31 solid mother fuckiGN dick licking years. I am telling the world right now, you don'[t want to be in this horrible monstrous evil nation. I would sell my soul to the fuckiGN devil to be able to get out of here and survive somehow, but they have fixed me good to where I cannot move or do a thing, I am trapped in their mother fuckiGN prison from hell, and they know it, and they go on persecuting me with pain, noise, and threats an intimidations done in total fuckiGN cunt lapping wet-works-ops-style. I do not believe anyone alive has ever suffered this much physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual anguish and torture; no dam jew in the Hitler ovens, not even mother fuckiGN JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On top of this, my family has ruined my life, my friends all turned against me, and the entire world ignores me as if this entire mother fuckiGN cunt eating thing was my fault when I am totally innocent. I can never be absolved or vindicated. I will always be the extremely hated bastard bad guy in all of this shit ass mess, when none of this was my god dam fault.

There is absolutely no joke about it when I discuss being placed on

The Bum Classification, CHAPTER 000000.

This ain’t no bankruptcy chapter, folks. That was something that back in the day, my cuzz and I used to our advantage, and it was perfectly legal to do. I knew I could not live any other way other than off of the banks of the world, since I was stopped from ever being able to do a single thing, with some things higher up on the list than other things, such as anything related at all, TO MUSIC!!!!!!!!

My entire mother fucking life on EARTH, has been one huge god dam HELL. Maybe if I was on Plank right now, I would say, my life is one gigantic TRICKY-TEET-TEET; huh Mister David Leigh Smith????? Boy these god dam fuckign bastards are really going with the dam ass doors this morning around here, on top of all my other horse fuckiGN shit, YO BRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

My life is one gigantic TRICKY-TEET-TEET.

So who is Sarah Krassle? She is the absolute GOD OF YOUR WORLD, and mine; ladies and gentlemen. Lenny McKinnon said it, and I do not believe he said it live on that CB-RADIO as handle ops man 601, but had it recorded from 1980, the only year that I ever interacted with him, and this I’ll quote, “There ain’t no doubt about it”.

Hey dirt bag BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLL,

Still, being chocked to death began in 1983, and was made far worse in 2015. But they didn’t kill me, and they couldn’t kill me. Highland Avenue-1984 Mark Wayne Mohr, just keeps doing the COPPERTOP BATTERY Dance of Forever; Peter Paul Pedersen Pan Geico!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

STEP FOUR OF FOUR:

This is that magic part that I will give you from a lot of personal experience. It won’t be found in any mystery-texts from Mayan ruins to the mountains of Tibet, or anywhere on this planet. I promise you that.

Another pet peeve I have is TWB. I do nothing but say nice things about them and their great APP, yet all they seem to do is cut me off from sharing the great cams. The JUPITER INLET CAM was killed, then the ES-CHARTER SCHOOL, and now this mother fuckign SEAPORT HOTEL CAM bullshit always showing one frozen night shot. Why are they fuckiGN shitting on me and my blogs, when I have been nice and said all these nice things???

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I think this fuckiGN world is one huge mess and I know that I have died and gone to mother fuckiGN endless hell. No one can survive all of the things that killed me over and over and over and over again. I AM IN GOD DAM ETERNAL FUCKING HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I DON’T WANNA’ FUCKING HEAR IT, NEW KID!

Mark_from_nj

WHAT CAN I SAY, SIR JAY-JAY, DIE-NO-MITE EVANS?

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WHAT CAN I SAY, lovely Attorney General P. Bondi?

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Labels: DYING DECLARATION, DYING UTTERANCES, MAJOR BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKING, NABES FROM HELL, ROTTEN ROACH NABES, VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL RIGHTS NOT TO BE PERSECUTED AND OPPRESSED

Professor Michio Kaku, of NYU, up there in the great state of New York, and all empires; if anyone gets this message to you, it will possibly lead to a true advancement in humankind over significant time. I doubt you ever got this message, sir. Still, you were there back in late 1983, in a multiversal part of my reality, up there in Orlando, Florida, only back then it was down there. Still, how do great houses on great highways fit into a lot of things, temper temper Howard Solomon Schmuck????????????

You missed me you rotten slutbag Jane Thistlethorns. HA-Ha-HA you dam water witch bitch!!!!!!!!!!!

YES SIR GREAT AND POWERFUL NYU PROF KAKU:

I promise you that what needs to happen in all cases, is that experts must come together, study, and eventually agree on things, or else, forget it; just like if I tried to prove ICPE-APE-TECH in a court of law, and how Trump has used this against me, to catapult his life into what it is today, by a magical force, that no one could ever fucking truly deny; yet I would not be legally permitted to introduce any of this dam unaccepted by experts, evidence; such as this ICPE-APE technology, and how it indeed is used against me, and probably even now; many others also, who are blinded by present day blissful willful ignorance!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So my point here, Professor Kaku, from someone who appreciates your mind and intellect, and is one of your biggest fans from cable TV channels such as Science and History, and others; Public Broadcast, and on and on; is that only you will recognize my valid point here sir. Their needs to be a colluded group of a new discipline here, half psychiatric and half quantum physicist scientists. If this group, call them whatever you like, could ever gain expert status, I KNOW BEYOND ANY DOUBT, that I would be able to have a total cure in my life and its invisible cosmic problems that surround me, and are not some mentally ill delusion! Another problem however is the establishment, and the protection of the BIG SHOTS. I believe secretly for many reasons private to me, and between us; that the late disco diva Donna Summer, knew a little bit about these things, and I refuse to discuss this, unless someone wants to really help in all of this; but she called this, the “Mister Big Shot Syndrome”. You don’t need to know any more for right now, Professor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What to do, and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, WOW Mister Shakespeare, what a question that would be, OR NOT BE, huh, YO???

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***(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))***

]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL ® 1980

MARK WAYNE MOHR

PINK GODDESSES

MORNING LIGHTS

DESTRUCT SWITCHES

GARY MITCHELLS

AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM SHATNER KIRKS

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE 1971 MCNULTY, YO!!!

AND BOY OH BOY OH BOY WAS THE LAUGH ON ME ALL ALONG, DUDE!

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

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Have yourselves a merry little day, all Merry’s out there, and all else, YO! How can you worry about your dam job, Copyright examiners of 2008? I love you Eddie Green, you’ve got a dam heart, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would wish Donna Summer a happy birthday if she was alive here in this time. However, a B-COPY is up in 2994, at the GAP World Laboratories. All business partners from Portarico to Elm, I say only this, wonderful American Express and Starburn Outreach Development INK; WHAAAAAAAAAAAAHA!!!

[ 14 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

PAu002153196

1996

[ 15 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

SRu000332786

1996

Notice also, great folks of Planet Earth of all times and parallel worlds, being scanned from, via Lunsat Distance-Delay, and other technologies, after the string of lunar satellites are orbiting our lovely moon several decades from now; how the great United States Copyright Office, when they put the order of my musical projects together on their web-page, that number 14 and 15, are the numbers corresponding to that love sonnet that I indeed wrote in that year, for my PINK GODDESS, ALMIGHTY JEHOVAH!!!!!!!!!! This infinite being has infinite energy, that isn’t even energy as our understanding presently identifies this with, and as I said; this god who has many countless beautiful awesome names, also becomes a personal god to each and all of us. How can it be heaven if this is any other possibility? This is why it is such a dam shame that we mortals of the Earth’s waking world reality, go on fighting and killing each other, over this beyond great and totally unfathomable creator entity. We cannot ever truly understand her, even when we are with her, and while in hyperspace, we are more clueless than a million Poolroy-95 dudes, all strung together, and clinging to the wall of a pool!!! So did Roddenberry’s doppelganger want me to understand this in the future where I am living now, since the day I bought that videotape at the local Good Will Store, here in Fort Pierce, along with a dozen or so others, of Star Trek original shows, and this one being the one called, “Where No Man Has Gone Before” from 1966???????????????? Or is he playing a game with not only me with this, but for all I know, with countless others out here who remain in the shadows, or are nuts by now, such as Security Guard Joseph Paget, from Pennsylvania??????????? Many will say it is multiple choice answer ‘C’, you know, that Mountainpen is just a total fuckiGN crackpot nut job, and that all of this is nonsense and garbage. Fine, and I’ll still fight and die for their right to say it and believe it, and mock and jeer me; despite tons and tons of posted evidence that proves that there has to be something to my Morianity story from 1995 through almost 2016, after all of these powerful things all went down, and mathematically; it is not possible for this to be all just random occurrences, unless you truly believe that this can be far greater odds than any powerball-lottery-jackpot yet won, ten times over; and this is just that one time out of that gargantuan number, where it is all just a series of inconceivable coincidences. To this I will give you my little personal opinion, to which I too am totally entitled to, Mizz Mashell RPL Daniels of 1980, and that is “BULLSHIT ON ALL OF YOU, CUBED, AND CUBAN, AND THEN RE-SQUARED”!!!!!!!!!!

DECEMBER 31, 2015,

THURSDAY MORNING AT 10:11,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-78/L-64).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 82%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 82.

WIND IS SSE AT 8, WITH A SMALL GUST TO 10.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

PREDICTED HIGH TODAY IS 82.

Sarah Krassle Owns And Rules This Planet

MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

• Morianity Foundation

• The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version

• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian

• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.

Just in case you’re interested, Billy Harner and Ann King; ”I’M BACK”; EVIL CHUCKIE, DAWN-MARIE, BEETLEJUICE NONSTAR, and FREDDY ELM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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”MIZZ BOZWELL, MIZZ BOZWELL, DARYL JONES, DARLY JONES, BWADLEES”; WHAAAAAAAAA-BIT!!!

And this is all ‘straight talk’; Dolly Parton and Shania Twain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR

END TRANSMISSION.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 25

The exploratrons came back again, around midnight give or take, Sheriff Mascara, kind sir. The mother fucking dirt bag broadcaster/advertisers with that mother fucking HONDA-HARNER bullshit, and then this morning, I was awakened like a shot from the mother fucking dark by a nasty fire alarm, at about 10:05 this MOUUUUURNING.

I suppose it can;t really hurt if I tell a major secret, that if I discussed once, might have proved to be fatal very fast. I tell it in earnest, and I tell it true, just as I once told how I left notes in a park as a youth, for those I get around to creating in parallel worlds at some future time, called the residents of Timeless-Satellite. This may very well also be a major contributing factor to why I have these HALLS FAWCES surrounding me totally, all my life, and then way stronger once I exited Cooley Wormhole Hall for good and all, Sir Ebeneezer Scrooge.

When I keep going back into my own self, while on a train heading eastbound, in-between the Westmont and the Haddonfield stations, up in Jersey; the Milituforce follows me back. If I have mastered the fucking skill of doing this for 200 times; how could another group of sentient life who I am never able to identify or bring to human waking world justice, be incapable of pulling off such an amazing and resourceful stunt as well? Think about the very simple fucking logic involved in this concept, lads and lassies.

What if, in order to change things for the better, and maybe even win the love of my Sarah Krassle, right here in the human worlds of hyperspace-dreams; I need to go back, remember it all yes, but totally and forever keep silent about it to everyone everywhere for an entire cycle. No talking to friends, no Dave Roth and me in the Jersey Pines having many wee morning hour deep discussions, no phone talks with him, or Jim Burr before him. No blogging up in the following century. You know, just totally remain quiet about all of it, yet all the while merely silently believing and knowing the whole god dam mother fuckign nightmare reality. Sounds like some quintessential hell punishment I know, and maybe it is impossible, even for resilient little dirt bag fucking me. Many a great fiction writer has written all sorts of stories with very similar story lines. Also, they know there is something to all of these way out nutty sounding things that I discuss and blog, and claim are a part of my honest real true life experience. Either they or people they know and are close to them, have had some bizarre type of things happen, that leads to them adding a few touch up jobs to a story and making a million bucks writing fiction. Unfortunately for me, none of that is destined to be part of my life pathway. But if I am correct in this idea that I have toyed around with very quietly in my head for a year or so; and can ever pull it off; then the following cycle around after the next one, I would be finally free, without any Clariton Clean commercials, or country music thieving recording artist ripoffs; Mister Ped.

The mother fuckiGN dirt bag exploratron enemies are getting inside of my entire mother fucking hologram of dream-reality since midnight, Sheriff sir. A private plane just came by making me look at my computer screen, and yes, at cunt chewing mother fucking dick licking eleven-eleven. I will now need to cunt phlegm rape with my 5’s!!!!

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MAGNESONIC:

ALL ORDERS, ALL COMMANDS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, HEAR MY MVP (MIND-VOICE-PRINT). SCAN AND DESTROY ALLTHOSE PERSECUTING ME WITHOUT A CAUSE, AND ALL WHOM THEY LOVE AND ADORE. USE PUNISHMENT CRUSH DESTRUCT SEQUENCING SYSTEM OF DESIRE KEY SETTING ‘I’ TO ‘D’.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

G-189 G-1133, G-901, UNDER G-14, G-13, G-719, UNDER CG-18, AND STOP!

Sooner or later, Maggie is going to kick the living mother fuckign shit out of a lot of powerful and very evil scum bag dirt hole toilet water drinking peeps out here in this evil demonic fucking world. IPYT, evweebwuddy, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Predicted high today is 85, holding fucking 79 at quarter past eleven, Jane Witchbitch Toiletwater Notfondau!!!!!!!!

I promise that the minute I am found dead, California will experience a long overdo quake close to R-11. Go right ahead and laugh NOW, as you won’t be able to laugh later on, YO BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 24

Jumping mole hogs cubed; there are things I won’t even begin to understand or figure out if I had five hundred years t just sit and think on it all, YO! Today, it was hotter than a dam Hottentot, to quote my late great wonderful whittle mommy dearest!!! She wouldn’t have said dam. Maybe once every few years when I was really upsetting her, she would say, “Mark, dam you”. They say maybe when your own mother dam’s you, even once, you’;re officially damned and GOD honors the request. Maybe All-Knowing Fascitar-PPK and great coworker of moms would know about such things. Folks, I don’t have any inside dealings with any of these wonderful folks, and for all I know, she could be back in SDK, to quote the way mortals think of things with their zero understanding of time and eternity. Aniwho, BRO; I went to the Deals Store today, which is like a semi-dollar store. I needed to buy some things, not that I couldn’t have waited for next week, but now, it is done and all I have to deal with are appointments up in Oven Beach with sike. Other Floridians call it Vero Beach, but hey, I love to be dam different, and it is a hot spot up there in VERO, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sarah-Stacey Krassle was with me in my spirit last night, after I left my body behind to go to ”sleep”. I only remember that she comforted me and was very nice to me. It was beyond awesome, and way beyond bloggable, if I wish to keep at all in any kind of a semi-safety zone, here in my ”waking-life”! We have some real mother fuckiGN turd chewers in this building. The same nasty giant sluts that love to rush the elevator when I try to exit from it without giving it a thought, give me a dirty look for just beginning to approach it, and then backing up and saying excuse me politely. This will reach a point where I will have a dam discussion with my Resident Manager, Mizz Debra Marotto, as well as go straight to the PHA local Office where I pay my rent by check every month, and leave a note in my rent envelope to the employees of the PHA, as I have had it with their fuckiGN dam bullshit around here, like these fat ugly cows own the mother fuckiGN town or something.

DECEMBER 29, 2015,

TUESDAY NIGHT AT 10:20,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 74 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-84/L-70).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 94%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 78.

WIND IS SE AT 3, WITH GUSTS TO 18.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

THE WEATHER BUG (TWB)

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Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

THE GREAT AND POWERFUL CHEATING ICPE-APE DOW JONES STOCK MARKET, THAT LOVES TERRORISTS AND WORLD DISASTERS, AS THE CHARTS QUITE CLEARLY INDICATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION:

THEY MESS WITH MY PROPERTY, AND MY COMPUTER IS HACKED, AND MY SHIT IS WRECKED AND DESTROYED; JUST SO THEY CAN ALWAYS STAY IN A NEVER ENDING MOTHER FUCKING BULL RALLY ON THIS SICK DISEASED CUNT CHEWING STOCK MARKET OF THEIRS; AND YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF MAJOR MOTHER FUCKERS, FOR NOT RENDERING ASSISTENCE TO ME, OR BELIEVING MY TALE FROM ‘FUCKIGN’ HELL, THAT I HAVE SWORN LEGALLY UNDER OATH IS 100% THE TRUTH, AND YOU CAN PUT ME ON ANY STAND IN ANY COURT, AS I WILL SAY THIS SAME THING TO THE GREAT WISE 9 SOULS ON THE ‘FUCKIGN’ CUNT HILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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END TRANSMISSION!

THE GREAT FINAL ELECTRICAL NUMBER OF 2015

SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-27-2015

AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE MCNULTY, AND CPR-95.

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Oh great & powerful Federal Bureau of Investigation, this poor old sixty one year old American citizen is really tired of being HACKED, ever since buying my first of three computers, in the summer of 1997, at the Tandy Radio Shack, from Don, Craig, and Fred; the three employees there, at the White Horse Pike Berlin, New Jersey Shopping Plaza. 272727272727272727272727272727:

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Now making things up as we go along, seems to freak out people like Terry from Egg Harbor City, and so many others on television; but as we move along, normally, we learn and we grow. So if a live story-biography, such as mine, is being told; it would be totally illogical for me to agree with this sort of standardized way of literary no-no methodologies, as well as to copy them, and allow my Morianity to be lost in politically correct acceptance. Yes, many folks have come to Fort Pierce, following me down here literally. Some my distant family, some part of the ESS naturally, and still others, whoever and whatever they REALLY are, and some are the soldiers on my side of this army-fight; praise the GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still; getting into too much when I am this weak, beginning the 28th mother fucking day of last August in 2013, as you all know, or should know, unless someone is totally new to the blogs and Morianity and Mountainpen; as you all know of my problems with MUSIC, only none of us really can know WHY this music problem exists; but a child on moron pills, can see it plain and clear as days spent with Johnny Nash. In a super compressed nutshell my good folks, here is what I can, and thus, WILL say, and tell right now before closing out this blog for this night. SSJKK wants me to know who she is, back as Sarah Nurockey in the sixties of Atlantic City, as well as early in the seventies in Coolie Hall of Haddonfield, New Jersey, as another Sarah, Mizz beyond super girl white hot Jacobson. Then there is now, which until the middle and late nineties, I was as clueless to this newest and latest incarnation on her part, as a new born baby would be, to the great formula of E=MC SQ. BUTTTTTT, little by little; she did things, that made me know, that she indeed, is my SARAH KRASSLE; and she can just go on denying it all she wants to; because we both know it is true. When I went walking underneath Central Pier, I never hit my head on a low beam. Paula King, street name when my kid’s mom was in that area, and at that time, and having marital woes, and was philandering around without ever leaving her house many times, as a what else, T3E; still, one year after she had her way with me, on the first Saturday in July’s 1969 year, she popped up again, most likely exploratronically. She entered into my head, and made me believe that I had hit a low cement beam underneath the pier. Then she told me that she did what she did a year ago from this early July morning in 1970, and that I may want to know that I have a very lovely non Amanda Harris Jones daughter, State Police of New Jersey and government intimidations clubs of the north. When I was later on walking down Tennessee Avenue still dazed from it all, no Copyright Office, the thrill of my life did not come along, only thoughts in my head that I have to be imagining this; as it is so fucking totally crazy. The only problem was that I was holding onto a ‘newspaper’ that this lovely woman had given to me. It was the Wildwood Press, dated one of the first 6 days in July of 1970, please do not ask me which one. I merely have a powerful memory that it was somewhere between the first and the sixth day, and it could have been any one of these six. This paper was inside of a thin box. It had buttons to touch, and it was filled with bright blue and yellow prompts. I remember getting to Pacific Avenue, and catching the Jitney-Bus south to Cornwall Avenue, and going home before going out and swimming again. I also remember having a towel with me, and wrapping this thing up inside of this large white towel, and before leaving the area of the Central Pier, I also took a short dip in the sea. When I had come back from my second swim, and walked back to child molester Thomas J. Reale’s rental property where he had me staying, and abused me sexually, twice in there; first by hand, and second orally; I took a nap and got up and it was around 7 in the evening. Ziggy had just told me to get lost as many who know my ugly story of 1970, know all about this. He was my boy-hero, and I cried every day and night and could not figure out why he told me to ”Go home” and would not speak to me any longer. Later of course, I learned, not from my mom going back and talking with him, as he never dared tell the total truth to the ugly monstrous things going on in Atlantic City, but I learned he wanted me home and out of there, not just to be with ”peeps my own age more”, or because he was concerned about Reale the molester, not that these things were not more than sufficient. Ziggy and Trinidad Hotel Manager Soifer, and Restaurant Owner Pincus, all three right within a few years of all of this shit in 1970; all died from a horrible form of what is known as Galloping Cancer; a type of cancer that is on steroids, and runs much faster than ordinary cancers; taking a patient to the grave in record times. Ziggy supposedly died in 1973, and Pincus and Soifer, all went within a year one way or the other of Ziggy. These three dudes all knew what had happened to me with Tom Reale, and were now considered by Chicago Mob Boss Gallagher, to be extremely dangerous loose ends. They never died of fucking galloping cancer, and all were murdered and died really horrific agonizing deaths. My old blogs from 2006-2009 speak about all this hellish nightmarish shit, time and time again. It is all there to be archived by anyone of you, at any time. The ESS is powerful, and something connected to all of it, had to be covered up. One of these travelers had obviously somehow managed to bring back to 1970 physically, what now in 2014 and from the past few years, is called, a ”TABLET”. Only this tablet was very advanced, containing the PEEF, or the PEE—FEATURE. I remember to this very minute in future time, folks; the word on the side of this thing that I used to just call the Wildwood Press paper, placed inside of some weird thin box containment. By tapping certain keys, you became a part of this networking cloud system, and actually were mentally transported into it, where it was simulating reality as if you were there. I can only wonder if the logo ‘PEEF’ meant anything to do with my genius computer younger daughter, lovely PEE. In 1970, she was not close to being born. This would be almost 27 years out into the future, on March 29, of 1997.

Still, I will hear what someone told me recently ringing in my ear for a thousand freaking ass years. “Why would your baby mama think to look you up, or think the kid was yours when you are as white as a puff cloud? She was probably unhappy in her marriage, and was flinging around with several guys; and never would have suspected you as the daddy”. All this time I hated my mother, I hated my kids mother, and really, I am so dumb and so asshole stupid! You see, ask any biologist; every six generations, a white-black mixed couple has a descendant, usually one, so if I had had siblings, this would have come out a long time ago, only this was not the case as I was indeed an only child, for ‘Buzzer death-droid Mortino’ to scan me all the time, and annoy me to non-death, you know, ”first-born”. Still, between this, the chemtrails doing the same kind of damage to the both of us, and about a dozen other things if you think about it for a minute or two; and most of you can see why this all happened. As I began putting this all together in 2008, the WOMO-MILITUFORCE made things 100 times worse. Is anybody smart enough out here to see why this had to happen, or are the IQ numbers going to remain averaging in middle high double digits forever. Still and all, I am supposed to just live and do this Morianity, and all things as I now look back in 20-20 perfect frikkin’ hindsight, makes powerful and perfect sense. It is as easy to see that this was all carefully meticulously planed out by very special powerful peeps, from even the very day of my birth, and very possibly, long before my birth. Only those with real seminary knowledge can get into these things, and then, most would think words like blasphemy, and delusions of grandeur, and all sorts of varying mental illness and general psychotic features. Only trouble is that I know this is not the case, as I have lived and survived through way too much to fall for that fucking bull crap,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When enough stuff keeps happening in the real world that insists that something is there, then you are not God dam imagining it!!!!! These are or were, the great words of wisdom; not of John Lennon, not of Richard Marcucci; not even of Misses Marola; but of the most glass half full person you will ever come to meet, Mister David Leigh Smith, back in autumn 1970, at Haddonfield, New Jersey, in the Cooley Hall; Sir ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH, PROGRAMMING OVERRIDE! You’re #2, lovely Twinbay! THAT WAS THE EQUATION, BIG SIR!!!

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Yes King David, Talk about wanting to freaking wash your hands! Holy mother of fucking goddess, I assure you, my pants are not on fire; but I am quite well done and broiled!!!!!

No folks, this is most certainly NOT:

APRIL 18, 2014,

FRIDAY MORNING AT 3:08,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 73 DEGREES FNHT.

WOW, the old fucking (`~-HACK) is coming back every once in a while, as it just did now, YO!

BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT IT MOST DEFINITELY IS INDEED:

(June 26, 2007), around 22 past noon. Urgent reading!

Now it is the next day, 062607.515, on an early Tuesday afternoon, and where am I but good old Winslow Coopers Fools Library, across from the Jersey Columbine Non Hyperspace. No giant sluts to greet me at the door, and no teenaged huge sumo wrestlers either, praise the SAR. This past weekend and Sunday was the worst elevator ride of my life off of the sixth dimension. Do not even try to grasp what I went through. It was literally like getting into the ring with both Mike Tyson, and the devil itself. I can only ask the question of why I am able to survive all of this because some power far beyond what any tiny conscious mind can ever hope to really get any type of handle on, perhaps can explain this somehow.

Wait a minute Mohr, you don’t know Rodney Hickey Brindammor, of the great Philly 57 Flyers? Well not only is she no longer ”like-21”, but the date again is, according to all red hot young twenty something shampoo commercial ad-spot lovelies,

W—R—O—N—G!!!!!!!

Christ Almighty; between hands washing distant secret relation bosses, two Misses Grenvilles, and eight dam W—R—O—N—G’s, we all may go as batty as my dam cousin did, in middle late twenty ohm Marola nine, up at his Plaza hotel, when Leticia and I were seen at the gaming tables, of his GAP-CASINO!!! My mouth’s bleedin’ Burt; so don’t hit me again, Sam Hill.

Several things have been stolen out of this apartment and people need to go to jail; Fort Pierce Police, and FBI, and Sheriff K. J. Mascara. A Radio Shack antenna for high-def was stolen from this place, even before the Copyright form was, and all my medications, and canned foods, and much more; on that day the so-called Crime Stoppers cleaning lady, did her thing and ”cleaned me out”. It has to be one of the PHA peeps, as only they have keys, SHERIFF. I wish you would not permit me to be an endless victim, and be allowed to keep what few things that I work very hard and skimp, to have; off of my very meager disgraceful Social Security benefit amount, after a lifetime of working at rotten horrible fucking jobs, where this nation took it upon themselves to persecute and harass me so badly, that it totally wrecked my health as well as my entire life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If my pal the fellow Wall Street Hater, could be voted in; all you stupid ass so-called Americans out there; WE WOULD BEGIN to know some prosperity again, us poverty stricken 99% of the population!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I would love to know what world, those who decided to not give any small raise, to the Social Security recipients of the following year, live in. Food has jumped way up, and so have prices on any item that I can think of, other than for oil and gas. Being someone who hardly drives, except to doctors and local shopping errands, I use very little gasoline; and feel the big price difference in many items, ranging from every product that I consume to eat, or drink. My best guess is that prices have gone up in the past five years at least 20%, if we don’t include gas and oil. I doubt that one third of this twenty, has been increased for what we have to try and manage our lives with, and 2016 gave us a 0 increase. What a bunch of mother fucking dirt bag cock suckers, if there ever ever really were any; peeps, YO! So click this link, and save our lives!!!!!

THE FRIEND OF THE POOR PEOPLE:

http://www.berniesanders.com/

YOU BETTER WAKE FUCKING UP, AMERICAN FUCKING MAJORITY OUT HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is now 3:21 Post Meridian, and is 80 degrees here in town, feeling like 85 with a 76% R. H. ”Like you give a shit”; Cuzz Donnie???????? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

ALL SAVANTS KNOW THIS ONE, “THE END”.

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 11:44 AM No comments:

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▼ 2015 (771) ▼ December (74) Chapter 27, Guess the Name of the Guests
Chapter 26, Guess the Name of the Guests
CHAPTER 25, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
Chapter 24, Guess the Name of the Guests
Guess the Name of the Guests, Chapter 23
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY A & B OF DECEMBER 28, 2015…
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-28-2015
CHAPTER 22, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
CHAPTER 21, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-27-2015
Chapter 20, Guess the Name of the Guests
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-26-2015, LIKE FUCKIN…
CHAPTER 19, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
Chapter 18, Guess the Name of the Guests
Chapter 17, GUESS the NAME of the GUESTS
CHAPTER 16, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-23-2015
CHAPTER 15, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
Chapter 14, Guess The Name Of The Guests
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 13
Guess The Name Of The Guests, Chapter 12
Chapter 12, Guess The Name Of The Guests
CHAPTER ELEVEN, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 10
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 9
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-19-2015
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 8
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 7
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6-PART B
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5-6/PART A
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 4
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 3
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 2
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 1
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-16-2015
CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB
Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 33, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 32, AMP——-CEMB
Chapter 31, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 30, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-13-2015
Chapter 29, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
CHAPTER 27, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 28, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 27—A/B, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 26, CHRIS, ED, and the MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD…
Chapter 25, CEMB—–AMP
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-11-2015 LATE ON FRID…
Chapter 24, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 23, AMP—–CEMB
Supplemental Blog Entry Number 2 for December 10, …
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-10-2015
Chapter 22, AMP—CEMB
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF DECEMBER 9, 2015
Chapter 21, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 20, CEMB—AMP (C) Mountainpen—2006-2015…
Chapter 19, AMP—CEMB
Chapter 18, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 17, AMP—Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 16, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 15, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 14, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 13, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 12, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 11, CEMB—-AMP
Chapter 10, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 9, CEMB-AMP
Chapter 8, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 7, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
Chapter 6, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 5, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 4, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
CHAPTER 3, CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

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About Me

mark wayne mohr being one of perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going back far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal with an extremely unpleasant situation.View my complete profile

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DEATH DEATH DEATH HACK HACK HACK FBI FBI FBI

December 28, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Monday, December 28, 2015

CHAPTER 22, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 22

Thank the gods, the quarterly pest control building spray will be coming up on the eighth, not too soon here in fucking ROACHVILLE. This is the mother fucking first time, that nothing anywhere is killing these cunt lapping revolting miserable things, not the fucking motel square poisons, or the white round poison pill tablets. I believe, sir Sheriff Mascara, that they are not real roaches from my universe, but rather some type of hybrid mother fuckiGN imposters that have been sent here and they really are advanced humans from parallel worlds, and when I do kill them, they just wake up out of their dream, as ESS travelers. This is what our wonderful world authority is keeping us all from believing, as well as making people like you sheriff sir, believe that I am just a mother fuckign nut case crack-pot. Someday in the Astral Heavens, we’ll be sipping on a Jeemalena Puhatuko Soda, as out there, you enjoy that an dis your fave I believe, with an incredibly strong tangerine flavor along with light cinnamon, and you’ll be telling me how sorry you are for not believing me back here in this nightmare dream that we’re having, well, I am, you are having a much better one than I am, sir Sheriff!

There are things going on fifth dimensionally, that are so beyond the possible abilities of any blogger, even if 100 Einstein’s could all merge together, to successfully tell the message to those who in my opinion, do need to receive it quite desperately, and never will in the current lives that they are living as larger parts of their true PLANK ASTRAL SELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTTTTTTT, I intend to conduct some thorough research soon, on the recording artist Marilyn McCoo and her great and powerful FIFTH DIMENSIONS, as I do not believe this seemingly coincidental yet quite unfathomable symbolism just defies Mister Yogi Berra and his very famous quote, “It’s just too coincidental, to be a coincidence”!

Yeah, “I’m just your foolish toy”, PPK; so don’t bust my poor little arm up too badly, big lovely goddess!!!!!!!!

We’re two dead people, Mike, Dave, and Steve. It just endlessly goes round and round and fucking round.

You know what folks; I am going to just FLY AWAY!!!

GGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEE Wiligars, YO; what next Judge Judy?????????????? Like WOW, Mister 34-R. H. MACY!!!

JEEPERS-CREEPERS; this sucks hyper time!!!

Please don’t even get me going here, Mizz Eckert Farma, from Berlin, New Jersey, back in early middle July of 2003. THANK YOU, flooding and all!!!!!!!!!!!

Talk about lawnmower men like JOBE, jacking in, YO!

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Well folks, time to aim high now, and wonder what strange thing REALLY did happen, with my dad and myself; despite the fact that I never met Mister Einstein or came aboard the great Battleship Eldridge; yet both of us had our service paperwork interfered with, in ways not rationally explainable. My father was told to keep his mouth shut, and except for horrendous fucking nightmares that woke him up screaming, during the early years of his marriage to my mom, as told to me in vivid description by her upon numerous occasions, HE DID. Also, another small exception was his sleep-talking. In January 1974, he visited me and mom at our Dellway Arms Apartments on Oakland Avenue, in Oaklyn, New Jersey, just a couple of miles west along the famous Route-30-White Horse Pike, from where Congressman Andrews lived at the time, or just off of it, in Haddon Heights, on OAK AVENUE. The memories of this weird shit, right around the time of the mysterious death of my mom’s cousin Ruth Huntington Gottwald from a ”supposed-flue shot”, was when I was told one day that I was no longer in the branch of the U. S. Merchant Marines that I joined and even had an ordinary seaman’s card in my wallet, all legal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLUCRAN—BLUCRAN—BLUCRAN—BLUCRAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where will this all lead to, and end; great KING AKOSLEM (Lord Jesus Christ”????????????????????? Yes, JUJU, KING AK, and everyone else out here, now, and later on, via Lunar Satellite Delay Field Scattercloud, (LSDFS) in most parallel universes and here most likely; it is indeed time for me to AIM HIGH, and start investigating Mizz MCCOO and her great symbolic 5-D music group. The big-planet people of washcloths and hand washing are observing me quite carefully. Whenever they want me, it looks like they’ve fucking got me!!!!

YOU MISSED ME, HA-HA-HA, JANE WHORE BITCH NOTFONDAU!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 21

For several days, the general area around my apartment had less activity. But doors were all day today, and of course, with these roach fucking nabes being back, so are my god dam fucking roaches. LIKE-DUH! I am going to have to contact the BOARD OF HEALTH, Sheriff sir, because to quote what I used to say to my camp counselor Mister Mack Kaiter in 1967 and 1968, at Camp Chesapeake, in Maryland; “THIS IS RIDICULOUS”!

Lots of facts don’t change, but with time and experience, we all put those same facts into better light, at least we should unless we’ve been totally lobotomized by this mechanized social media garbage new age society 100%!!!!!!!!!!!! When you read a paste in like this below, you see how Morianity learns and grows, as does all life in hyperspace. Things do not stay the same. The old saying about cities is only too real. If they stop growing, they die. This is what happened to Atlantic City in the late sixties, despite all the great Donald Trump stuff that happened. Need more convincing? Fine then folks, see how things were a while ago, and how they always seem to be more clearly revealed when we ponder on them and meditate on them.

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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 ESS, 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 ESS 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-five 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 that 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 knows 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!

Dear Diary Journal Tape, another day has come and gone, without any teasing Nissan Cars, Finally I’m Free Clariton Clear medications, or higher stock prices. All that’s left is my sweet song, Copyright Examiners of 1983, and it makes me very blue, 657 times blue, to be quite honest. Still, I doubt that I will be around very much longer, and cannot wait to make my exit from this prison sentence, called by most, our life. Whether I share any of these coded poems or rhymes with nobody or everybody, is as meaningless and moaningless as 100 great educational television stations. But to Anna at the Medical Institute, and her precious jet black cat back in 1982, I say unto you; wow, soon I will be out of here, paroled, and ready to finally indeed, be Clariton clear and totally free of these emmereffing Earthly bonds!

The women in the lives of heterosexual males, would make quite the biographies in and of themselves. History as the more intelligent souls out there know, doesn’t focus too much on people’s private personal lives, probably because what little information does indeed make it into history, is merely who did what to who and when and all of that happy crap clap, from John Lennon, to Sarah McLaughlin. Before I march on with this, I really like this SYLFAEN-FONT. It is nice, and not too bold or light, and clear; yet quite different from many others used recently by the ol’ fucking Mountainpen!!!!!!!!! Yes, the women in the lives of ‘normal’ men, as this is saying it very POLITICALLY INCORRECT, but hey, I am saying it, so sue fucking me! The laugh was on you, Tom Glenn old buddy, from early in 1981, over at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments. He was convinced for reasons that made no Earthly sense, that I was a bit light in my fucking loafers, because he heard the song that I had written as a boy, or one of the two I had written in 1969 at age 14 and a half. I was hoping Paula King would someday sing it to me. She has such a lovely voice, and she even sang something underneath of Central Pier to me on that far out first Saturday of July in 1969, when she had dragged me under a very private place where no one could see us. I had written this song shortly after I had written, “THAT’S THE WAY IT GOES”. This song was called, “BURN WITH FIRE”. It was done in lyrics for a girl to sing for her boy. But the great musical arranger, Mister Glenn didn’t believe a word that I said to him. He did not ask me any details, and just insisted that I was some fagot, in a nice way of course, and that the song was about some kid that I knew. This of course was beyond disgusting and revolting to me, and I actually was thinking that I wanted to walk into the kitchen, grab a sharp turkey knife, come back into the living room where we had set up some recording equipment and his guitar, and I was thinking for a quick second, that I wanted to cut his living fucking guts out. This is why the great National Rifleman’s Associating cannot be argued with, much as I personally despise all guns and weapons; but I could have left old Tommy boy all cut to hell, and to bleed out, on Robin Hill’s nice apartment rug; on that day, early in 1981; and I have never owned a gun, or any projectile firing weapon. But I do confess to loving meat, eating meat, and needing large cutting knives to prepare that meat. But getting back to the topic of the ladies in the lives of us normal non-gay dudes out there; Tom Glenn was totally convinced, and wouldn’t listen to a very logical and true reason, for why my song lyrics in “BURN WITH FIRE”, were written as follows:

I’m sayin’ this to you boy

You bring me thrill and joy

When you just touch me

What can I say

I want you real bad

You make me so glad

Just you and me boy

Please baby stay

The things you do to me

Beyond my fantasy

The way you hold me tight

Let’s keep it hot tonight

Don’t let it ever end

Oh baby please pretend

Just say you love me

Make me feel so right

You make me burn with fire like a soul in hell

You bring me more desire than I could ever tell

I wanna’ love my baby ’till the end of time

Come on little baby, gonna’ make you mine

This chorus is then followed by a second verse, and that can wait for another time, if ever, but my point is Tom Glenn’s weird attitude about not believing that this was not a song for me to sing to some boy, but that I was hoping someday to have someone I knew a dozen years ago, to sing it to me, as she had a lovely voice. As I told him this, my memories of many things flooded into me; but so did lots of intense anger as he kept laughing, and saying he knew better, and on and on. The details that follow, leading to a block out of lots of my memories for about a month or so, that my own mom thought I was faking; can wait to be told, as more blogs are written in future times. But as stated, the real stories of men and history, are ALL ABOUT “THE WOMEN OF THEIR LIVES”, to quote the great and powerful cool wild dude from the middle eighties, Mister Bob Patterson Cheatley!!!

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.

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END TRANSMISSION.

SUNDAY MORNING, 27 DECEMBER, 2015

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 20

It’s 75 degrees here in Fort Pierce, Florida, USA; and the relative humidity is 89%, making it feel like 79. The time is 6:42 Ante’ Meridian. Recently five things are happening to me on an ever increasing basis. 1) nasty fucking klutz-out attacks. 2) Nasty Jane Thistleweeds assaults with counters, clocks, and whatever. 3) Nasty utility and small aircraft siege increasing over a long term average measured in annual quarters. 4) Dreams about both of my parents on a steady basis. 5) Death angel attacks. When things are this bad and it starts and keeps on fucking going; I know that my life is on the line, and that this is DEAD-ASS-SERIOUS as a Clarence Harris 1998 heart attack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday was real bad. I had major private plane attack around me all day especially around my residence PHA building. It was there when I came home from driving to my local Subway Restaurant for a ‘Footlong-Hoagie’ Sandwich yesterday, while I was parking at my lot, and it was all around the building,both before and after I went out. Also, my computer is being super big time hacked, with some jerk off attaching themselves, according to a screen I got while trying to post up at WordPress yesterday, telling me this is causing my Internet-Explorer system to keep going off and stop running, while trying to do any sort of blog-related item. This has been bad for two or three weeks now, and all of the computer woes that have become super fucking nasty again,began the last time that Microsucks did their stupid mother fucking updates to my system, also a couple weeks or so back, give or take some days.

As you should know, for those following me for any length of time; my mother was killed, and brought back for 26 months as a zombie, and was never the same person, and this happened around 5 in the morning on 26 December, in 1997. Now if my memory serves me correctly, and I’m not off a year; it was exactly nine years later, when I too died around 5 in the mother fucking morning, and on 26 December. This was, I believe, in 2006. This took place with my mom at our Somerdale home in Jersey, while she was sleeping and around the time she was to arise. With me, I was at my job at the Cifaloglio plant, on an early Sunday morning following Saturday Christmas; so the year was whenever Sunday fell on the twenty-sixth of December, be in 2005, 2006, or 2007. I am pretty sure it was the middle of these three times. In any event, give me a turd chewing break here folks; please. What are the mathematical fucking odds of both my mom and I dying, and somehow being brought back again, at around 5 in the morning, on the day following Christmas, on two years within a decade of each other?

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What to do, and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, WOW Mister Shakespeare, what a question that would be, OR NOT BE, huh, YO???

Now I admit that Thursday, a couple hours after that horrible shit in Cali, the markets went down for the day, and for all I know they were down and came up; but I don’t know, and so I won’t say. That is just fair, and I am fair, and play by the rules of fair, as otherwise; who would I ever be, to talk about those who don’t, for crissake? But the very next day after a big drop, all the losses were made up, +++PLUS+++ nearly another hundred points of profit were gained. Now AGAIN, we have a stock market that is responding +++POSITIVELY+++ to terrorism, and that makes me more nervous than any fucking terrorist ever could, with all their dam weapons and horror. I said after the attack a couple of weeks back, in Paris France, the very same thing. WHY IS THE DOW JONES RACING UP A THOUSAND POINTS AFTER TERRORISM, it is not normal, it goes against 150 years of trading history, and it PROVES to anyone not totally fucking brain-dead, that something is going on here, and it ain’t fuckign good one little tiny ass bit, YO. It seems that WALL STREET, by its very own trading behavior, is responding favorably to terrorism. If you can argue back with me on this, then do it. Comment, you buttwipes, but if you choose not to, then I am going to assume that you agree or you are major major Milituforce Enemies to Mountainpen and Morianity. The ONLY THING THAT RATIONALLY EXPLAINS WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW AFTER TWO HORRENDOUS TERROR ATTACKS FOLLOWED BY SUPER BULL MOVING STOCKS ON FUCKING WALL STREET, is that I AM RIGHT, and that this has nothing at all to do with national, or global events; or anything that used to apply, in some real world of my NON-HELL, ever since 15 August of 1986; when my life turned a major and inconceivable LIVING NIGHTMARE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If my story of what has happened to me, for thirty mother fuckiGN years, is just lies, or a hoax, or is in my deluded sick mind; then there is absolutely no dam way that anyone with knowledge of the stock market and general overall business, can tell me that my point is not valid here. A rising market during the biggest peak in terrorism, the second half of 2015? Makes sense only if you choose to believe that fucking ISIS owns and controls the stock market. Somehow I think Cousin Donald and I would argue vehemently against that possibility, YO!!!!! Also, a technology that is super black ops covert, hushed up majestic level top secret classified, ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY; is indeed being used on poor Mark Wayne Mohr, and has been for 30 solid years; and this is the result, and the effect, of this being done; a market that went from 1,800 or so points, to over 18,000 or so points. That is not the standard amount of annual gain from the time these markets were created!!!!!!!!!!!!! They probably have already been experimenting on some of you without your awareness to it, so that it will begin with you, as soon as I kick the Christ off. You can laugh at me now, and think you will all escape this shit. And folks, you are wet in the head, and a lot of you will be targeted or someone who you know and love will be targeted. Laugh all you want at me, but that’s just reality son!!!!!!!!!!!

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EVER SINCE 1980 THIS STARTED, AND TO QUOTE MISTER NON-DEEDEE ANDERTON OF THE SOON TO FOLLOW ‘L&O’ TV-SHOW; WHEN IT STARTS, ”IT STARTS”!

Boy oh boy oh boy, Mom, I am about to join Uncle Wonderfulife Billy in the transdimensional insane asylum.

All it’s gonna’ take at this point, is another Karen Simons/James Stuart “CRAZY-MAN EXPRESSION”. Put anybody through what I have gone through, and even fucking Mister Capra admits this truth, Miss Thistleweeds Microsucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Watch the movie and see it for yourselves, YO. Don’t ever take my god dam word for fucking shit. I wouldn’t respect you if you did, not when it is easy as all fucking shit to verify!

”JOJO-JOJO”; HUH NASTY ASS, SARAH C. M.

MAY THE PLAGUES OF THE NILE RIVER BE VISITED ON MY MILITUFORCE DIRT BAG ENEMIES, UNTIL WALL STREET CRUMBLES TO RUBBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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SO TWEET-TWEET-TWEET THAT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The only reason that I don’t run far away to a place in South America and tell major secrets, is because until and if I can ever know for sure, just exactly who has wrecked my entire life covertly, Mister Crane sir, and exactly why; is something Dave Roth spoke to me in 1988 while I was living in Jim Wilson’s shitty little doll house in Moorestown, New Jersey. He said it isn’t right to shoot in a large darkened room filled with a few guilty enemies but also lots of innocent targets. I won’t do anything wrong, not unless and until it is verified that it was my country that wiped me out, and for no good cause. I can never seem to get one step ahead no matter how much mother fuckiGN time passes by, as to just exactly who this MILITUFORCE truly mother fuckign dick licking is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is the only thing saving lots of rotten slobs from getting a lot worse than just some bad storms and other problems, from MAGGIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pulsaton Directed Field weapons or ‘PDF-WEAPONS’, can be used to take out an entire area, up to a planet and down to a city, and all hearts, great and powerful as they may be, just go, to quote mister eighth grade HTHS teacher, Mister quay, “KAPUT”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALL ADORABLE SAVANTS KNOW—THE END!

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 19

It is a very strange feeling to know that you died and went to hell. No one on Earth will believe you, so if it should ever happen to anyone else, may the gods take pity, although that is doubtful. They sure as shit sugar take none on me. I was just in a parallel world with my father, who was acting strangely even for him. It involved some DVD movies, an area in Philadelphia that does not exist here in this world, and I don’t think those particular movies exist in that one either, and I’ll come to that in a minute, as it is major. It also involved a couple of very strange extremely overweight women that my dad seemed to know from the area there, and it involved my telephone, as well as the video store where I was trying to purchase those movies. First off, here in this waking world, I have a list printed up, or had one, on my word program documents. It appears to have mysteriously vanished, as I know that it can be in one of two places, the most recent NOTES PAGE, or the PERSONAL PHONEBOOK PAGE. However, after carefully checking those two pages, it is not there. I remembered wanting to get these movies from being me here, and although I was inside my double over there who was making the purchase, I decided to take over my double and become a T3E. I wanted to try and make him purchase these half dozen movies on my list. He had already begun to strike up a conversation with some dude who was employed at this local area video store, that was not a large chain. As I was about to tell him what I was looking to buy, only one movie came to mind, and my mind was totally blanked out concerning the others. I have come to realize that these movies don’t exist over there, so when you lose memory of something that over here you would have a clear memory to, a gap-out or block-out, as has happened to me here as you all know; then this is when it could very well be being caused by a T3E indwelling inside of you and trying to take you over to have you do or not do something. It seems this is how it works. If you try and make your doppelganger buy a movie that never was made there in a parallel universe, he or she by merely being physically attached to their own universe, will try desperately to reason out what they are doing, and this causes you to have your own memories of it while there, blocked and gapped out as well. As I speak at 56 minutes past 11 on Saturday morning, 26 December of 2015, I am getting a fucking right side death angel attack. As for the telephone, my father was trying to do something questionable with my landline telephone, at the behest of these two huge lady friends, who he seemed to know from where we all were living, in some very high hilly area of Philadelphia; and it was not in the Roxboro section. The phone was the old square desk landline phone, with button tone dialing, and was white. Somehow in this parallel world, I had some weird cellphone with me at the video-store, that was just two blocks away from our place; and I was being given the warning signal, or my double was. I noticed that when I could not tell what I wanted, the employee had gone back into a store room area; so I just left and rushed up a hill, and back to my residence. when I saw what was going on, my double freaked out, and I was not in control, and just continued in the experience, observing the events there, as a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON (T-1-E). This annoying mother fucking SPACING-HACK is cunt lapping murder; FCC Bob McDowell, FBI, and ACLU, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, moving on, I watched my double take the white telephone and do something to some connecting bunch of wires, that caused whatever my father had done, to become totally deactivated. Then I flipped and yelled, and sat down, and began staring up at the ceiling. This is when the two ladies walked in and just stood there near to where my father was still standing, also real pissed off. I began cursing out GOD, really badly. You know, the old spiel of all of the shit that is happening and wrong is GOD’S fault, and I was using horrible and disgusting swear words. When I had finished, I got up and began walking out onto my porch, and the ladies followed me out and began under their breath, saying all sorts of rebuking crap to me, and I got mad, and called them, ”fat old meddling fools”, and told them to get away from me. Then the black one, as one was white and one was black, and they had to weigh at least 350 pounds each; grabbed me and threw me about eight feet and I tumbled and rolled off of my porch, and onto the sidewalks of the Philadelphia streets. My head banged into a telephone poll and when I stood up, I was dizzy and fell back down. This is when the white lady grabbed me and lifted me up in front of her by my arms, with such force, that I thought my poor flabby arms were going to literally implode. Then she walked me up the street to her house about three down from mine, took me inside, and smacked me around, knocking me into all kinds of lamps, and just like in the dam movies, I heard glass shattering real loud as I kept continually flying into furniture objects, over and over. After about two minutes, she grabbed one of my arms super tight again and pushed me right into a thin wall that seemed to separate the house from a tiny one car garage, and I went went through the partition and struck an automobile that was parked inside of this garage, so hard; that I remember feeling my entire hip breaking. I tried to limp towards the open garage door that led out to the street, but I fell down, and then she began kicking me in the head, and in my ribs, breaking my ribs, and making me cough up blood. I tried to escape the horrible fate of my doppelganger at this point, and kept telling myself that I am in a parallel universe, and need to completely leave there. Instead however; I found myself eight blocks away, down this long city hill of small row type homes that Philadelphia is so known for, and I seemed to be totally OK and ‘uninjured’, to quote Mister Star Trek Spock. A beautiful young girl of twenty give or take a year or so was right there, and she seemed to know me from that parallel. We talked as we began walking back up the hill, and she told me that my father would end up wiping out my life if I don’t find a way to either move far away or else have him arrested, as over there, he had a serious criminal record, and I later learned from her, that this towel-seepage was somehow connected to why the FBI wanted to talk to him back in the days when my mom was told to come into their Philadelphia offices, for some questioning upon several occasions, as told about on several previous blogging texts. Further details to all of this can wait for still other future blogs, but I did come to learn that this was the same girl who I used to like a lot back in the City Center School, on 20th And Chestnut Streets, when I there, back in the days of the Kennedy assassination. Her name was Esther Pinkston. She was a white hot jet black lovely goddess, even at age nine, and I remember even back then, wanting to hold her and kiss her, and if I had been a couple of years older, I know I would have been out of my skull wanting to hit that, as they say! Time in parallel worlds does not need to make sense and be in some equally running continuum. In this world, Esther Pinkston would be my age, around age 61, yet over there, I was about fifteen years younger, mid fortyish, yet she was less than half my dam age at maybe 20. My mom was totally out of the picture in this parallel world, also. More about this wild 25-TRIP, Mister Marcucci, Beatles, and others; can wait for later on, BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DECEMBER 26, 2015,

EARLY ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON AT 12:28,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 80 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-81/L-72).

PREDICTED HIGH TODAY IS 82,

ALONG WITH CONSIDERABLE CLOUDINESS.

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 79%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 85.

WIND IS ESE AT 17, GUSTING TO 27.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES-0.

TITLE NAMES RE-SPELLED CORRECTLY FROM © WEB-SITE:

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitome of harassment pt. 2.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitome of harassment pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

HelpNew SearchSearch HistoryStart Over

The U. S. Copyright Office has the copy of this, on a cassette tape, from 1988 and 1989.

Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.

Image result for sheriff ken j. mascaraMy PhotoAttorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi

Having the Exploratronic Supermind Society personally working against you and your life since birth, and connected into your entire family as well, as James T. Burr seemed to totally know about way back in the middle nineteen-seventies; is, to quote the Amazon giants of all types, totally soul crushing. I wish the mighty fucking MUFON people would try and assist me, and render some aid to a dying pathetic and pitiful dam dude!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Folks, only in 1970, did I have hyperspace-interactions with conscious recall, (remembered-dreams) of the WASHCLOTH-FAMILY. Only at that now water company property, that back then was the private home of child molester Thomas J. Reale. Well, ”don’t you believe it”; Mister Herby fucking Letts Perpetual, from December of 1983. Yes Virginia Avenue 401 K-RASSLE; I totally know there really is something about this very merry annual day. Every single god dam fuckiGN year, since Cooley Hall, and my wonderful Christmas-Tree-Angel, this proof comes to me in undisputed ways, right down to my mom and her exploratron assault, and then my dying at the Cifaloglio job. Now I have come to learn that other versions of that song have indeed been recorded, after hearing another one on the great WEATHER CHANNEL a few days back. BUTTTTTTTTTT, was this other version before or after I heard my kid at age two singing it, only all grown up, and at Cooley Wormhole Hall’s great lobby entrance? Yes, before awakening late this morning, I was with these washcloths from hell, AGAIN. It was even worse than back in 1970. This time, along with all of them, was the hip hop artist and L&O-SVU star, “ICE-TEA”. He was one of the big wigs, and he was with the family, and they were all in Atlantic City with me, and they had me kidnapped, and were going to kill me in some horrendous fashion, after dissecting me; but there was way mother fuckiGN more to this nightmarish total dam hell, kind lads and lassies out here, WAY MORE! Trains were involved, and not only normal trains, but all sorts of weird ones as well. I did come to learn about them after nearly forty-six years however. It seems they did suck me into other abductions with them, the year before, in 1969. This was the pull-in interactions experienced not only by me, but also by my newly made friend where I lived in those times, Mister Brad Messenger. Remember I told about both of us having repeating dreams, where all of the planets were gigantic; and we could see them as huge balls up in the sky? Well, it seems that the Washcloths all come from a parallel universe, that life indeed manage to begin on Planet Earth, and even evolve and become quite advanced, somewhere maybe like one-hundred years ahead of even where we all are today. But they all knew that their solar system was going to be wiped out any time, as in that other world, even though life managed to come to be, and evolve to about an equivalent to our 2100 year; because the planets were all weird and so were their orbits around the sun as well, this was a soon to be doomed race. They began experimenting with all sorts of things, but knew that it would require about another century, to develop some technology to take the entire planet to a safe zone out of the solar system, as well as build a closer sun; and they knew it could be done, but in case they run out of time, as they believed was about an eighty percent chance would be the case; they also began other experimentation, and that is what Morianity and Mark Wayne Mohr, and these Blogs of Mountainpen, have called for a solid decade now, the ESS, (Exploratronic Supermind Society). If you’re out there by any chance, Brad, you need to contact me. You and god dam MUFON both need to contact me, before our world becomes so out of control, the point of no return will be reached; Zvonko, Burr, and Wozniak. Stop drilling holes in my dam few good teeth and running away to Florida, DOCK!!!!!!!!!!!! All train trips are making a lot more sense now, Highway House Hollister Holy-voice! Erased gapped and blocked out memories, and highway houses, and throat specialists! Where would I even begin a story so big it almost drove my Cuzz Donald mad? Actually, between me and the dam Darth Vader Mister Hallway Lamp-Posts, folks; IT DID!

OK-OK-OK-OK MISTER KING??? How many times are you going to tell me to use that water hose and ask me if it is OK; OH GREAT SIRE KING? I could say it, and so I will, lovely awesome positive upbeat Twinbay; JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE, YO!!!!!!!!!

Now great folks, I honestly don’t know if the answer to my dealing with the Exploratronic Supermind Society, is blowing in the wind, and if it is, how many times it is; but I do know that there really are a pair of quite magical OZ CURTAINS out there in hyperspace. I have seen more than enough to convince me of this, twelve dozen times over! So go close out that show, lovely Emmy-Louise Cicone, and Taffy; and all great giant lovely skyscrapers everywhere, in or out of 1972 and 1983! WHAAAAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA times three quadrillion and nineteen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now my meeting up with the WASHCLOTHS FROM HELL, may not be the only factor which led me to being inevitably placed on the

The Bum Classification,

BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT; it didn’t exactly help matters in my favor, and yet that is still way mother fucking besides the point; my great folks out here!!! Let me try and move this on just a tad bit for you. So to maintain the survival of this other parallel universe Planet Earth, and remember, this is one out of literally an infinite amount or virtually infinite, of these things; where one Earth planet is created by the Lawtronics of the seventh dimension beyond all of 5-D hyperspace; they had to try their best to use two methodologies. A technical one, and an alternate game plan, or a PLAN-B, and this was, or shall I say, this IS, the ESS! Now why am I a part of their deal, along with many others out there, who have shared their tales with the great MUFON, as well as many others who are as myself, unknown by the MUFON peeps? This is not something that has been made clear and privy to me, at this point in time anyway. But there is no law against sitting around guessing and wondering and speculating and pondering, so as to at least begin some outline on paper such as these blogs for right now, that may hopefully someday lead onward in my quest for answers to why my life had to be totally fuckiGN sacrificed, and completely obliterated and destroyed! My spell checker has been struck again, FCC and FBI, and ACLU, so let me do what I have to fuckiGN do, and I can sarcastically fuckiGN wish the Milituforce of the ‘large-planet-world’, a very very very happy, and a very very very MERRY HOLLISTER CHRISTMAS, huh Ingrid?!!!!

GGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEE and SSSSSOOOOOOOOO, Sir Arthur TCE-ANTINASS CRANE; to quote lovely awesome JUJU, “WHAT NEXT” me’ ol’ pal, YO??????????????

Let us say for a minute or two, that this is what is happening. No one is doing a thing, other than for HALLS FAWCES, who not only do what they do to me and have since I was literally dropped by my mom, onto my head, in Philly; while she was holding me, and walking to a doctor appointment, and crossing a street in West Philly one late morning. She tripped and I went sailing down hard, and remember it clear as a bell. She didn’t try to do that, but I bet HALLS FAWCES did! But let us say for argument’s sake that this is what is happening, right down to all things from this incredible family, to Atlantic City, and the decades of hell there, to all the shit in Florida, and all the rest of the shit up in Jersey; way too numerous to even attempt trying to get into right now; is all just some ridiculously huge happenstance, or worse; these forces of Mister Star Wars Hall, of Jefferson Super-girls Street in Camden, New Jersey, did a wild game on me by first doing all of this for six solid decades, and then making it appear to frame dozens and even hundreds of totally other innocent people. Let me just say that this would put such a fucking wild new spin on my life and its hell; that Morianity would have to close up shop tonight forever. I just wouldn’t be able to deal with that. In a way not really describable to a blog audience, this would make shit so beyond big, even bigger than shit is all around me right now; that I would have to cave and scream UNCLE and do a sequel to the old 1983 fucking Atco, NJUSAESMWG song!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Photo

Oh Lordess, I may be a lot of things and many not real pleasant, but one thing I won’t be, is a denier of truth. I have to go with what is around me, and even David Leigh Smith agrees with me on this, from that day four and a half decades ago at the Cooley-Wormhole Hall, YO. Still, I am very disappointed that neither my local county sheriff, or my state Attorney General were willing to help me at all, and are going to just stand by and watch me slowly die by slow torture; at the hands of this fucking evil Milituforce! Oh Pam! OH SHERIFF! OH MUFON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Attorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi

I love the way that people make it almost seem like a crime, to quote them, “Make it up as they go along”. Many fiction writers have a basic outline, and then do their book. Many biography writings tell basic things, and then inserts are made as final copies become closer to fruition. Morianity has grown since its inception a decade ago, and so this is sort of like making it up as it goes along. But why not? If new things come up, and old ways of looking at things begin to grow wings and take flight, and improve; then why not use this magical thing that we call time and change, when writing things? This is my life’s story, and yes, in case you don’t know it, I am not dead yet, even if I am indeed in hell, since I am able to recognize this, I then am alive; even inside of this god dam nightmarish eternal hell.

What really hurts, is that a lot of powerful influential people, know that for the very most part, my Morianity is real, and tells a horrible story of pure nightmare hell. However, the old Ed Green Losing Your Job Syndrome always kicks in and wins out, and so no help ever comes and THAT is the great MUFON-equation, Sir Rockdroid Rottenberry, YO! That is what causes nightmares 24-7-365, and only THAT!!!!!!!!!!!! They all know, yet they all just sit there, since I left “Fooley-Hell” in late January of 1973; and they try to ease their conscience, for doing nothing at all to help those like myself, in any real and meaningful ways, against ESS. They may as well say,

GO TO THE DEVIL!

+Enlarge

Forecast Map

Today’s Weather Outlook

UPDATED By WeatherBug Meteorologist, Fred Allen

UPDATED 7:45 AM EDT, May 3, 2015

Summer-like temperatures will have residents from the southern and central Plains into the Great Lakes looking for ways to stay cool before afternoon thunderstorms usher people indoors. Other trouble spots will be found across the Rocky Front Range and parts of the Desert Southwest as well today.

WeatherBug Meteorologist Gretchen Mishek has the latest in her exclusive WeatherBug National Outlook.

A sharp cold front sweeping from the central Plains into the western Great Lakes will trigger downpours and a couple of dangerous thunderstorms this afternoon and evening from western Kansas into western Wisconsin and northwestern Michigan. Not only will they squeeze out heavy rain capable of producing localized flooding, but a few of the thunderstorms will likely interrupt outdoor plans with high winds and large hail the main concerns.

Other places such as Salt Lake City, Denver and Albuquerque, N.M., across the Rocky Front Range and Intermountain West will have to deal with a few hit-or-miss showers and thunderstorms this afternoon and evening.

The only other minor trouble spots will be across New York State and parts of southern and central New England, as well as along the western Gulf Coast, where spotty showers and thunderstorms could also cause a few interruptions to outdoor places this afternoon and evening.

Triple-digit highs will remain parked across the Desert Southwest and the southern California Deserts today. Meanwhile, highs in the 80s and lower 90s will blanket the Sacramento Valley, while covering a large stretch from the southern and central Rocky Front Range and the southern Upper Mississippi Valley to the Southeast. The rest of the U.S. will have pleasant 60s and 70s to finish up the weekend, while cool 30s, 40s and 50s generally keep to the higher elevations across the Mountain West.

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Thank you TWB, for alerting me to the rip tide problems at the beach this weekend, but as you know, I am a good poker player and and a great bluffer, but am too old to worry about the beach any longer. I’m too old and way too sick. But thank you anyway. I love how informative TWB-APP is, and would not live without having it on my system. Keep up the darn good work, guys and gals!

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THE WEATHER BUG PRESENTS

(SHARED BY THE MOUNTAINPEN).

I frankly do not trust one single human being in the smallest degree, let alone any of the gods except for MIDDIE, the Programmer, you would say the Almighty. Mother-Daughter-Electron, MDE, or MIDDIE. Yes, the seventh day was HER UPLINE VACATION to HER UPLINE equivalent Atlantic City and Tennessee Avenue. This to both of us, is a beyond extremely special day, quite naturally. The twelve tribes of Benjamin in the Old Testament Bible is where known humanity stems from, according to those of the Christianity Faith, and count me as one of them. I merely know some shit that I am no way in hell supposed to know or remember, not even fragmented. But the endless real mystery is none of this. But rather, it is why then do beings this powerful next to us; allow shit to all happen, when this was what caused me to know all of this stuff in the first dam place? This is what I termed back in the autumn of 1987, and told this to my now dead pal, Mister David Charles Roth, AN EVENTAL TIME WARP. Don’t confuse it with the TIME PARADOX, concerning the hypothetical traveler, who does a major experiment, by going back and killing his grandfather, to see what happens to him; along the lines of that silly ‘BACK TO THE FUTURE’ movie nonsense. All real quantum dynamics folks and astro physicists know, that the murder event, merely splits another fan blade dimension off, into two worlds that were one before that happened. One was where the grandfather was not shot and the other where he was shot. The shooter is living in the one where he was not shot. A very similar thing can be witnessed by putting electrons through a special screen, in a controlled lab-experiment. The electron is a fifth dimensional part of nuclear reality. The other parts that comprise the atoms are always but three. This creates the real power behind why things all work as they do. If those not ready to accept total world peace, ever really understood what I know about this, the world would be doomed in a short time. We as a global order are not even close to being ready to handle type-3-civilization power! To bring that scale to life, with all we know and can do right now, this scale places our technology as a global civilization type-0. This scale goes from type 0 through type 3, and don’t take my word for this, as I am sure a few minutes of Googling will get you to a trusted website that confirms these words. When I came to this paragraph on a blog from last 3 May, the system stopped working and I had to click the mouse, and so I figure that some part of HALLS FAWCES did not like that part all that much, so I pasted it into this blog. SO WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, and

TEE-HEE-HEE nothing, Mizz Munster!

•

Now I said back on the third of May of this year; ”Lilly and all other flowers can just go ahead and laugh at me all that they wish to. I know the truth, Professor Kaku knows the truth, and this is why I have to be humanly sacrificed in this evil world and nation. When they cut me open in the ME’s office after my death for the autopsy, then they will be sorry for all that has been done to me, but I will be telling SSJKK that my life demands justice, and this world will be thrust into a giant fire when the sun goes nuts”. You see, back on 05/03/2015, I was still clueless about the parallel universe where both my pal Brad Messenger and I had been PULLED-INTO by exploratrons. By now, I know that some out here are wondering just how ‘PULL-INS’ really operate, you know, just what are the mechanics to it, since you explained how dreams-hyperspace-exploratrons all operates, in some detailed clarity; yet only use the term of PULL-IN, and never get more into it. You are quite correct, as I have been trying to figure out the best way for me to attempt to explain it all to you.

There are times when a subject (previously targeted unaware person who is used by a dream-traveler) is used but once, and then there is the repeat customer. MUFON peeps take great interest, or they claim to on TV shows concerning their activities; to be extremely fascinated by those who are repeat customers, that is of course, customers not of their own choosing, such as when we as consumers choose to go and shop at the department stores, and grocery stores, and whatever. This washcloth bunch from the parallel universe where the planets in our solar system are closer together, not really larger but just closer to each other; and precariously endangering the continuation of life, due to eventual collisions, and other problems we needn’t concern ourselves with right now. When they chose me, as Mark Wayne Mohr in this exact universe of atomic agreeing vibratory signatures; it most likely is because of large fifth dimensional values, or said in real plain first grade English, other me parallel’s as well as me here, all fit into something that pertains to them and their goals of survival, due to what Morianity has discussed many times, but never in enough real detail I suppose, and that is HSTS (HYPERSPACE TOWEL-SEEPAGE). Now, after this is all factored in, comes the even greater group of ‘Y’s, to all of this. We can begin with why would a little poor non-billionaire nobody, connect into any possible item, in any conceivable way; that connects in the remotest potential to this parallel world surviving their soon to be doomsday, from living in a bad solar system? Right away, a few are also wondering, wow you buttwipe, maybe it isn’t dream travelers, but real transdimensional vessels that cross over into our universe, in those big UFO crafts that we all know have some reality to them, no matter how covered up they are by the authorities. Well, I won’t say it is impossible to make a vessel that could move through the fifth dimension, but it is ahead of any science reality known to even the time of 2290 and World Laboratories. It is fiction, but it isn’t supported by fact, even way out there. But I know that I am able to dream travel, and even create objects, when I am not in a tangible constraint, such as being awake physically in a shell-body. I have flown around in huge UFO type ships created right out of my own (DREAM-MIND). This happened. Whereas discussing vessels of a transdimensional technology, may exist in a thousand years or a million, and with the same ability, be able to enter antimatter realities and with extreme speed near light, after enough time, move thousands of years ahead in a short time by their standards, and in antimatter where the electron is running backwards from all matter worlds, the vessel being far ahead in time, would be far behind in time, if it then returned back into matter worlds. Now this is as I said, a possibility, but I already know that ESS and dream-travel is real, so why fuckiGN screw around speculating on shit as far out as that?

You may say this whole thing is nothing more than a couple of trillions of MACY-WOW’S? But I say back to you, that these washcloth people are as real as you and I are, and mathematically; parallel universes fit into equations that totally prove their reality, way bigger than the math models of our universe containing any kind of sentient life, outside and beyond, this world right here. They don’t tell you on the TV shows that sort of sugar coat all this for those who wish for this to be so, how the odds disfavor such a possibility. I will give you those odds. Roughly, for any other world to have life even remotely like ours, in the entire universe; would be more than a billion to one, not to be. No one including a billionaire, really can wrap their heads around a number so large. Those same mathematics show that the odds for virtually unlimited parallel universes not to exist in a multiversal space containing them, are also very large in the opposite direction, way more than a million to one in favor that it must be this way. These research papers are available if you know where to look. In time, they’ll be published by reputable universities, maybe even before my death, who can know, but within two decades or so, I promise. There really are reasons why I make the statement below, and those reasons are all pertaining to parallel universes, and in ways not just on the surface with the top biggest stuff, but with so many things that happen in everyday life.

People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!

Just why am I an integral part of the Washcloths?

WE COULD DISCUSS THIS FOR WEEKS ON END, STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!!!

THIS AIN’T AN EASY TOPIC TO JUST CRACK, 1-2-3 BUT I WILL PRODUCE ONE EXAMPLE FOR YOU.

Back when these blogs were new, on the original site where I had blogs 1-5, and this blog #6 had not begun yet as the late 2011 hack had not struck that blocked me out of using that blog other than as a viewer that at least allowed me to paste my own stuff into this new blog-6. Back in the first two years of my blogging, 2006-2007, I talked about a great Disney kids show, called the Lizzy McGuire Show, where lovely teen queen Hillary Duff, got her start in acting. On that show, something that I said almost word for word, four sentences long, was spoken by Lizzy if I remember, and I admit the details are fuzzy. I do remember blogging it, and when I did, the event was much closer, and I had a very good recall even though I only saw this show one time. As you know, I kept life journals on a cassette tape system, taping my residence situations, my times out in my car, and my times at work as a security guard. My life was literally Kennedy-Nixon-Whitehouse BUGGED! She was discussing how, Lizzy McG that is, something we do can have a profound effect in ways we never could imagine, nor would we give a second thought to. She went on as did I, on my tape one day, before the show ever first aired; to describe how if she did this, and then the person who it was done to did such and such as a result, and after six moves along the chain; this could practically lead to a very large event like a disaster, or who knows what? Just by giving someone on a bus a really nasty facial expression after they smile nicely at you, could make them say the wrong thing to their boss in half an hour, getting them fired, leading them to drive recklessly on a California freeway, and strike a car filled with ten children; one of them who may have gone onto become a U. S. President, another maybe someone who cures cancer forever, and still another one who writes beautiful songs, one song touching the heart of some monstrous dictator who without hearing it, would start World War Three someday. You get the picture here, and yes, in that example, they all were killed on that highway crash. I am glad the show was made, and that I am being monitored by Briggbase people, who now live as the Entertainment World for the most part; and if I can do something positive for humanity, even totally indirectly; then great!!!!!!!!!!! But my point here is about how little tiny things can effect really huge ones, and was the biggest flaw in the greatest Star Trek show, voted on their 30 year anniversary nearly two decades ago, Sarah Tribbles Kessle; called, “City On The Edge Of Forever”, when McCoy had that encounter with the drunk man, back in 1930, in New York City, and his fazer-weapon built up an overload charge that made him disintegrate. He may have been an old wino bum, too old to have any other children ever, but that still does not mean that he could not have set off a chain of events that led to something huge, just because he maybe gave someone a smile, or a scowl. So as to me and my WASHCLOTH-THAT-FAMILY of 1970; this is not some easy 3-D discussion!!! It will take a lot of time, and quite a bit of further study and serious analysis. IPYT.

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 10:24 AM No comments:

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Labels: absolute power corrupts absolutely, agents from hell, ALIENS AMONGST US SINCE 1972, HELP ME SHERIFF KEN MASCARA SIR, MAJOR BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKING, ROTTEN ROACH NABES

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▼ 2015 (764) ▼ December (67) CHAPTER 22, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
CHAPTER 21, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-27-2015
Chapter 20, Guess the Name of the Guests
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-26-2015, LIKE FUCKIN…
CHAPTER 19, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
Chapter 18, Guess the Name of the Guests
Chapter 17, GUESS the NAME of the GUESTS
CHAPTER 16, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-23-2015
CHAPTER 15, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
Chapter 14, Guess The Name Of The Guests
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 13
Guess The Name Of The Guests, Chapter 12
Chapter 12, Guess The Name Of The Guests
CHAPTER ELEVEN, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 10
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 9
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-19-2015
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 8
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 7
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6-PART B
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5-6/PART A
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 4
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 3
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 2
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 1
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-16-2015
CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB
Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 33, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 32, AMP——-CEMB
Chapter 31, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 30, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-13-2015
Chapter 29, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
CHAPTER 27, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 28, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 27—A/B, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 26, CHRIS, ED, and the MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD…
Chapter 25, CEMB—–AMP
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-11-2015 LATE ON FRID…
Chapter 24, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 23, AMP—–CEMB
Supplemental Blog Entry Number 2 for December 10, …
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-10-2015
Chapter 22, AMP—CEMB
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF DECEMBER 9, 2015
Chapter 21, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 20, CEMB—AMP (C) Mountainpen—2006-2015…
Chapter 19, AMP—CEMB
Chapter 18, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 17, AMP—Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 16, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 15, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 14, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 13, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 12, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 11, CEMB—-AMP
Chapter 10, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 9, CEMB-AMP
Chapter 8, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 7, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
Chapter 6, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 5, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 4, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
CHAPTER 3, CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

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About Me

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FBI, I NEED YOU TO LOG ONTO MY COMPUTER, I HAVE AN ILLEGAL HACKER

December 26, 2015

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

Use this link for reading all my posts. They do not post up in full except at BLOGGER.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 19

DECEMBER 26, 2015,
EARLY ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON AT 12:28,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 80 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE TODAY——-(H-81/L-72).
PREDICTED HIGH TODAY IS 82,
ALONG WITH CONSIDERABLE CLOUDINESS.
RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 79%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 85.
WIND IS ESE AT 17, GUSTING TO 27.
TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES-0.

TITLE NAMES RE-SPELLED CORRECTLY FROM © WEB-SITE:

[ 20 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Epitome of harassment pt. 2.
PAu001148157
1988
[ 21 ]
Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-
Epitome of harassment pt. 3.
PAu001189027
1989

The U. S. Copyright Office has the copy of this, on a cassette tape, from 1988 and 1989.

Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.
Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.
Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.
Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.
Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.
Peeps; I only report the news, I don’t make it.

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!
Well peeps; leave it to major holiday and festive occasion days, as always, for major events to go down, such as right now, the SPACING-HACK struck me big time, and every word in that sentence all strung together as if I’d never mother fucking hit my space-bar one time. WO-FCC!

Now my meeting up with the WASHCLOTHS FROM HELL, may not be the only factor which led me to being inevitably placed on the

The Bum Classification,

GGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEE and SSSSSOOOOOOOOO, Sir Arthur TCE-ANTINASS CRANE; to quote lovely awesome JUJU, “WHAT NEXT” me’ ol’ pal, YO??????????????

GO TO THE DEVIL!
GO TO THE DEVIL!
GO TO THE DEVIL!
GO TO THE DEVIL!
GO TO THE DEVIL!
GO TO THE DEVIL!

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Today’s Weather Outlook
UPDATED By WeatherBug Meteorologist, Fred Allen
UPDATED 7:45 AM EDT, May 3, 2015

WeatherBug Meteorologist Gretchen Mishek has the latest in her exclusive WeatherBug National Outlook.

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(SHARED BY THE MOUNTAINPEN).

People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!
People, my life totally fucking S—U—C—K—S!!!

Just why am I an integral part of the Washcloths?
WE COULD DISCUSS THIS FOR WEEKS ON END, STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
THIS AIN’T AN EASY TOPIC TO JUST CRACK, 1-2-3 BUT I WILL PRODUCE ONE EXAMPLE FOR YOU.

THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.

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DO ALL SAVANTS KNOW WHEN IT IS THE END?

December 24, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Chapter 17, GUESS the NAME of the GUESTS

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 17

DECEMBER , 2015,

THURSDAY AFTERNOON AT 1:08,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 83 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-83/L-73).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 70%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 88.

WIND IS SE AT 14, WITH GUSTS TO 18.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0000.

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[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

HelpNew SearchSearch HistoryStart Over

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Search Request: Left Anchored Name = Mohr, Mark W

Search Results: Displaying 1 through 25 of 28 entries.

Many of you have heard of the mighty Casey Jones.

Here is the mighty DOW JONES:

Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

Contact me

• Email

On Blogger since December 2011

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My blogs

• the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

About me

Gender

Male

Industry

Military

Occupation

persecution study statistic

Location

Fort Pierce, Florida, United States

Introduction

Being one of perhaps ten humans since time began who have memory going back far beyond current physical birth, I am doing my best to deal with an extremely unpleasant situation.

Interests

Finding my way home to the void infinity.

Favorite Movies

Old movies in general, not filled with so much blood and gore. They need to tell a story and have a moral, not making you waste two hours wondering why you did so at the end, as with almost all of them.

Favorite Music

Most older music has enjoyable qualities, symphonic pieces, piano sonatas, even some early and middle last century stuff, all good ballads with great vocalists.

Favorite Books

Being specific is not as we 60’s kids said a lot, my thing. If pressed, any informative and educational book at all, as well as great detective stories, and some paranormal research books also.

When you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you’ll drown?

Well, I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am the one in 1984 from Highland Avenue.

Mark_from_nj

MIZZ JANE MOTHERFUCKER THISTLEWEEDS JUST FUCKING STRUCK. PAGE ELEVEN OF CUNT CHEWING FUCKING ELEVEN, ALLOW ME TO NOW COMPENSATE FOR HER BRUTAL DICK LICKING ASSAULT ON ME, GREAT PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Diva Shania, and her colorful non dreamed city of major song rip offs, merely opens a few cracked peep holes, in the dam ass doorway, to many truths and secrets, about both music, and its interaction with Mountainpen (me) for crying out freaking ass loud, YO!!!!!!!!!!! As I said, the government, and its agencies, always side with the big superstar people, the big giant moguls of the business world, the top folks on the ladder rungs that are nearest to the fucking cirrus clouds, and this no way excludes the mighty and wonderful GAP United States Library Of Congress Copyright Office, and what they did to me in the late summer time in 1980, in favor of Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb, of the great world famous superstar Gibb Brothers BEEGEE music assholes; and their theft of my pal Tom Glenn’s arrangement, on my LOST LOVE SONG! Yes sir/ yes ma’am, the great and powerful (GAP) © OFFICE, always sides with the big wigs; and screws shit up, and even alters documents TO FAVOR THESE SUPER WEALTHY FUCKING CUNT CRIMINALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I would not dare say these on my blog that were untrue, about powerful organizations and people, but folks, when they commit criminal acts on me and steal me blind, and I get robbed, assaulted, raped, and fuckiGN screwed with for my entire life after leaving high school at Cooley Wormhole Hall, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USA, ESMWG; then to quote Sigmund Malyeska back in June and July of 1969, “Mark, that’s the way it goes”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy oh boy, to quote my dam mother from that era and later on as well, and other shit I won’t bother to say. Still, memories come swarming in with the fuckign ocean tide, and especially about my moods, and the wild wacko people who did wild wacko freaking shit to me in those days that to quote Mister Edward Himacane Lynch, “cannot be explained”, YO, I cannot tell exactly who told what, or what I heard through what IMHO were very reliable grapevines, and things along this nature; BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, I learned around the time that I was writing my blog about a year, that I am already in this family of great washcloths, long before I was brought further into it, during a summer time act of passion, underneath the Central Pier of Atlantic City!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Image result for images of lighthouses at night

I am getting beyond mother fucking sick and tired of that rotten whore Mizz Fonda. THAT’S a promise!!! What you and Teddy did to me in the spring time of 1993 at that mother fucking dirt bag baseball park, is BEYOND UNFORGIVABLE, YO YO YO BRAH!!!

MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

• Morianity Foundation

• The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version

• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian

• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.

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THE GREAT AWESOME TWB; YOU GOTTA’ LUVEM!

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You just go right on laughing at me. I know a magic person from Long Beach Island, who knows the biggest secret of all, Patty Hollister; and told me. You know, that SHE’LL get me for this. Well, she got me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Image result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny faces

Hey America; are you as fucking totally annoyed as I am about our rights to be who we were born to be, being trampled on. This new TV-AD-SPOT that seems to make it a crime to have human fucking emotion, can go suck a ruptured duck at light speed squared. If I want to laugh and cry, that’s my cunt chewing business, so buzz off old ugly guy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Listen up you turkey’s and crackers; and you too Mister McGinty. I know who wears the pants in your so-called ‘he-man’ family, YO!

Some people talk about being eighty-sixed, others speak of being pummeled and reamed. Many who believe their lives are the product of a really rotten cosmic deal of a sort, say the decks of the star clusters are stacked against them, or some such hocus freaking pocus, and all great Frisbee throwers of the Twilight-Zone. Others just got angry 35 years ago like Steve McGinty did, with his subordinate, at the great Mars Graphics Printing Shop; and told him he was a turkey. I have heard yet still others tell me, and I will quote them, “Mark, dam it, I’ve been submarined”. The freaking garbage Spell-Checker on my Open Office program doesn’t even accept the word as valid, and makes me add it to their dictionary. I did. Still, people have indeed told me this, and I sure as Store High In Transport ain’t a lyin’ about it; kind folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah I thought you were a hell of a nice guy once, Ryan, over at BJ’s Studio. Your boss Tony BonJovi put a big ass knife in my back. Why am I not shocked and surprised, at that turkey? Maybe because I’m getting used to getting submarined a lot too, my friend!!! In any event, I think this looks like an upside down boat, anyway. I guess that eighty-sixes my whittle bwog and me trying to be cwever and cwoot, huh Mister Fwudd, YO!!!!!!!!! Enough of this stupid prishy garbage.

The FEDERAL BUREAU of INVESTIGATION is a really great part of the law enforcement system, and I always respected the great Mister Hoover, who once over saw the ops, when it was a relatively new organization. One day when I was a small child of late single digit age if I am correctly remembering the story told to me by my mother; this great outfit wanted her to come into their Philadelphia office on her lunch hour from her job at the Lavino Shipping Company, now the Inchcape Corporation after this British firm bought them out. They showed her photos of my father, her husband, in Florida in his diving suit, as back in those times, he did a lot of work for two well known salvage companies here in this state, the Real Eight, owned by Kip Wagner, and the more famous one, Treasure Salvers INK, owned by Melvin Fisher! The FBI was very mean to my mom, and did not believe her when she told them that they weren’t in contact with each other at the time. She was being completely honest, but as well all know from watching any kind of cops and robber shows or law shows, they cannot just believe stuff, and have to give suspects a hard time, it is their job. I fully get that, and hold no resentment at all. But one day after a few times of this, my mom called her friend Helen Gregory. She was dating a top general in the United States Army at the time, and were quite bosom close, and planning a possible marriage, until Helen began getting ill, from a fast moving cancer, that went onto take her not that far later on in time. Having powerful friends is always great, and I grew up with a lot of them, from family contact. I am not used to the new life I live, IN HELL, without any of them. The entire mother fuckiGN world has abandoned me, and that is why I know that I have had to have died and gone to hell. I know I died a whole bunch of times, and have blogged the stories with very perfect accuracy, for anyone interested at all, to read! Getting back to the FBI in the late sixties somewhere, this is why a tap was on the phone all of my life, and there is a lot to the story of my dad and his diving, and the treasure charts that he left to me, that I have no one to pass onto, other than for a very ungrateful daughter.

Well folks, no one can say that lovely things are not wonderful. Be it nature of heavenly bodies of all types, or a simple sunset or moonrise. Diana’s lovely full moon was so gorgeous and terrific last night. ‘IWALU’ my moon!!!!!

IWALU PINK GODDESS, NO MATTER WHAT YOU AND YOUR ROTTEN FRIENDS DO TO ME, FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give my best to Gary Mitchell, and Doctor Walking-Freezer-Unit Lovelyblond!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My PhotoImage result for images free funny faces

END TRANSMISSION.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 16

When it is very hot and humid, especially out of season, and at night; I get very fucking pissed off at the world. Without the high temps, my life sucks enough, but this just fans the flames with fuel from hell. I think of all the fucking jerked off things that went wrong no matter how hard I tried, since the day I was a little cunt lapping child. Now I never said I was some perfect angel. Still, I have picked up some real horrible mother fuckiGN enemies with lots of power, all along life’s path; and shit just gets endlessly fucking worse for me, decade after decade. My own god dam fuckiGN mother used to say, “Life is just not fair at all, because it gets harder the older we get, and it should be getting easier”. I wholeheartedly fucking agree with her. I never asked for all this horrible shit, Mister Jim Burr, and you seemed to know it all way back in cunt lapping time, you rotten bastard son of a dick licking bitch, you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I may jokingly pick on people here and there, like McNulty, or Poolroy-95, or even Jim Burr; but Jim Burr was a rotten mother fucker, times a million to the power of a thousand. All he ever did was put me down, treat me like total fucking shit, and the few times I was up, he couldn’t wait to bring me right back down all the way to hell, and then he said he was a mother fuckiGN god dam Christian, and that I was a Satan-Worshiper. Yeah, sure, right, YO! But with all of that said, there is a lot more to this story. We were originally two dudes meeting at a computer programming school, who were very motivated and energized; and we wanted to become, and I quote, “multi-millionaires”. Then shortly after we met, as with all things in my life without one mother fuckiGN cock sucking exception, POOF, like Potter magic, shit all changed on a dime. Some cunt lapping fucking exploratron double of him, got into him, and that was that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But this advanced doppelganger knew things that this Jim Burr universe had no way of possibly knowing, such as MY FAMILY. Even I did not know a god dam fucking blasted thing about most of them, but HE SEEMED TO. When I go on and on and on, kind people out here, about TYPE-3- EXPLORATRONS; please don’t be too quick to think I am just annoying you to death or something. Try to step into my mother fuckiGN mocks for a seck or so, and see that there is only one possible explanation for my sixty-one years of inconceivable unfathomable bullshit! Thank you.

Recently I brought up my joining the Merchant Marines, shortly before working at the Mars Graphics printing shop, in Westville, New Jersey. I told how, just as with my father who also joined them at age sixteen, before World War 2 broke out; both he and I had our service-paperwork messed with. And now, this entire paragraph vanished for no reason, and I had to retype it, Sheriff Ken Mascara, sir, and FCC, in violation of my mother fuckiGN cunt huffing civil liberties. Do you think that I would lie, and make up shit about fucking parts of the great United States government? Hey, I may not know exactly what’s going on, and I never said that I dam ass did, peeps. I only report the news folks; I don’t make it. I have no power. Making the news is for those who have fuckiGN power. To quote David Roth, from the American Honda Plant, in Mount laurel, New Jersey; concerning this topic, and after I asked him how our lives seem to be so totally fucked up, no matter what we try to do; and he said back to me, and the U. S. Copyright Office has the copy of this, on a cassette tape, from February of 1983, “Because we’ve got fuckiGN enemies, and these fuckiGN enemies have power, and we don’t”!!! It truly is, to quote John Colorado Henningsen, in 1969, “JUST THAT SIMPLE”!

HEY POWERFUL PEOPLE AND AUTHORITY OUT HERE:

I NEED HELP AND PROTECTION, YO:

Image result for sheriff ken j. mascaraMy PhotoAttorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi

Sounds Utterly Soul Crushing:

BUT STILL, DEDECTIVE BRISCOE, IT IS TRUE!!!

Top 10 Simple Things Every Computer User Should Know How to Do

Tell me another great fable, lovely DONNA.

[ 5 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Lost love.

PAu000344219

1981

[ 22 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

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

PAu000204017

1980

[ 23 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

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

PAu000204015

1980

[ 26 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

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

PAu000204016

1980

Our love was true, our love was rare

No other love could ever compare

Now that you’re gone

My spirits are low

And baby baby baby, I love you so.

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Re-copyrighted as a compilation music project in June of 1980, from my apartment at 1802 Robin Hill, 4th and Preston, Voorhees Township, NJ-USA.

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I get very tired of this eternal nightmare fucking hell, lads and lassies. You can make book on that, with the toughest mob!!!

Nothing ever changes, right Jim Burr? It just endlessly mother fucking continues!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HELL IS FIXED IN STONE AND FIRE

[ 26 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

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

PAu000204016

1980

[ 27 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Same title.

PAu003037983

2005

[ 28 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Thanx to the shadows.

PAu002237985

1997

[ 29 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

You’ll Be Crossing Over.

Pau—stolen form

2013

THIS IS A PHONY DUPLICATION, AND BECAUSE THAT LADY STOLE MY COPYRIGHT FORM, I CANNOT EVEN PRINT UP THE PAULA KING REGISTRATION NUMBER!!!!!!!!!

Boy oh boy oh boy, MOM!

And a super JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE!

OH GEEEEE-WILIGARS; the mighty Doctor Harold Camping said it all; OH MY. You and I don’t fool the Almighty Lordess Jehovah Stacey Krassle with our cute clever non swearing lingo. Darn means dam, heck means hell, gash and golly are GOD, Jeese and gee and gee wiz and gee willagars is all JESUS, Shoot and shucks is shit, fudge and freak and fook, and a dozen others, are all FUCK, and so forth. What; you seriously think that you are outsmarting Almighty GODDESS Jehovah? Let me go YUK-YUK-YUK, and a dozen or so “Oh MY’S”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Photo

There’s a new kid in town, I don’t want to hear it, there’s a new kid in town, I don’t want to hear it. Not in 1978, not in 2015, not on WAYV, not on WFMU, and not in the great King Residence either, YO peeps!

Mark_from_njImage result for images free funny faces

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The Bum Classification

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The Bum Classification, CHAPTER 000

Once you are placed on THE BUM LIST, kiss your mother fucking life bye-bye. Laugh at me until doomsday, mother fuckers. It is not funny at all, and you might be next!!! Merry Christmas and tricky-teet-teet to you, Mister McNulty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mark_from_njImage result for images free funny faces

My Photo

I AM BEING SUPER FUCKING HACKED, FBI, ACLU, AND I JUST HAD A VERY LOW PLANE HERE AT MY BUILDING WHILE THIS FUCKING PROGRAM WAS CRASHED AGAIN, AT SIX MINUTES PAST TWO IN THE CUNT CHEWING FUCKING MORNING, IN TOTAL VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL FUCKING CUNT LIBERTIES, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 15

I was awake, barely, but wow I am glad that I was. Today was the quarter-annual fire alarm test day. Of course, it always is just before Wall Street’s opening-bell. What else is new, lads and lassies?

Diana was with me all night, and the past several nights, the great Atlantic Ocean and I spent wonderful times together. Hey Razzy, how can I go wrong when I have the great GODDESS all around me, at least while asleep. While back here awake, my hell resumes.

In truth, memory is a totally different part of mind, than thought, and these brain-experts have all the answers or they think that they do, so go ahead and listen to them and scoff at Morianity if you so choose. At least I answer lots of questions that have most likely been plaguing many of you in your own personal lives. You need not make comments about it, as I know this is true no matter how silent you wish to be.

Memories are not something we retain like having a video of some family vacation and then playing it back. No two people remember details of things ranging from an accident to a murder to a great time with friends on a beach or a ski mountain, in the same way, proving that memory is not a tape loop of some event in our past, be it a minute or ten years. Still and all, anyone can say what something is not. It is a much larger feat to be able to rationally and simply, explain successfully, what something IS. Let me try. Memory is not a truth that we remember some event or some something. Memory is that a part of us that is trapped or frozen in locked atomic time, takes all of the observable things around us during these trapped time-pieces, and this is what is focused on in a split circuit in MIND, or its sixth dimensional signal to us as we appear to exist in fifth-dimensional hyperspace waking life in one physical space-time universe. Memory is not just seeing what is remembered. Memory is the side effect generated by the full-event (what apparently is being remembered) and this interaction to us, whatever that may be. I like to take my very sharp memory of longer term, and compare it to those few times, where it has seemingly been either blocked, or somehow interfered with by some unknown source and force, other than I know it happens only when the group that Morianity labels “THAT FAMILY” seems to be directly involved. My two rapes by Paula King in 1969 and 1996, bringing MI and PEE into life’s great equation, the time that I left Bob McGuire’s botbar-BAR on 7 February of 1997, and other such nightmarish incidents from the gates of deep-HELL, and my return trip from the 1984 Throat-Specialist’s Office; would be some of the main events here, pertaining to THAT-FAMILY somehow ‘quite mysteriously and magically’ causing my normal memory-ops to be totally blanked out and gapped. Operating a mental exercise around these times where I have been struck with some kind of technological gap-out of my memory operations, is the only hope of putting together some of the powerful and great things that lie behind these OZ CURTAINS FROM HELL. Can you just begin to mother fucking imagine what I would have right now, if I never was struck with the NEW JERSEY POLITICAL ENEMY OF WOMOTAMM-MILITUFORCE, via the property inspector of Mullica in league with Trailer Park owner Jenny Plageman, an dthen the King Family as well? I would have access to detailed accounts on a taped life journal, of all of these times. My journal spared no little details, from all the disgusting little items in life’s most personal areas from when I took a shit or what color it was, to what I ate for lunch, in vivid detail. All phone calls were bugged up, incoming and outgoing, and the entire residence was as bugged up as the Kennedy-Nixon White House ever was. I would now be able, seeing my life in a brand new major light and perspective, to listen back to exact shit from all of the days when all of these things were going down mother fuckiGN live. HALLS FAWCES could never permit this to have become a reality, and hence, they brought the New Jersey laws of renters to be changed, the T3E inside of Jenny Plageman to be used against me, and the T3E inside of the King family, as well. So without using ESS to get into the political people, as well as the personal enemies around me also; they never could have pulled it off, and today I would have all of these tapes to go back and take to the Geneva Convention people and the World Court at the dam Hague. I also would have this literal storehouse of information at my own disposal, right at my fingertips; to scrutinize and examine for life, to make unraveling this nightmare mystery around me, that obviously all pertains to PINK-GODDESS, and not PIN Goddess, sorry folks, another TYPO, YO; but yes; I would have all of this for my own super sleuthing, where as now, I can only wonder just what I would have been able to do. These ESS mother fuckers took away from me, my life, my property, and my sanity. If a special place in fucking cunt HELL is not existing to take these people to their deserved fates of endless nightmares, then why even bother to breathe?

Now just as all bibles preach in various forms; there are good FAWCES and bad FAWCES, and even STAR WARS seems to portray that reality as well, Mister Hall. What has been done to me, cannot possibly be thought of as coming from the good ones. Why there seems to be only the bad in my life, is for people to ponder for coming centuries, should Morianity catch fire and take off after I am soon dead and gone. I can tell a zillion powerful things, but if you think that I’ll ever have an answer to give you about this, then you’re five dozen cookoo clocks all wired up together.

ALL SAVANTS KNOW THIS: “THE END”

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 13
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CHAPTER ELEVEN, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER ELEVEN

December 21, 2015

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the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Monday, December 21, 2015

CHAPTER ELEVEN, GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

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DECEMBER 21, 2015,

MONDAY AFTERNOON AT 1:56,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 79 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-81/L-70).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 74%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 83.

WIND IS ESE AT 20, WITH GUSTING TO 25.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

Well, perhaps my mom and Carla-Jay-jay, out in the great city of SDK, are finally all finished, taking lamps and other furnishings, up to what here in my waking world, is called, the Atlantic Palace, and fittingly named, up in Atlantic City; as it is indeed HER, or the Atlantic’s palace, as well as HER CITY as well on the waking worlds of hyperspace. Do I believe that outside our Milky Way Galaxy, there really is this FORCE, that I call PIN GODDESS? You can bet your dam British Petroleum that I do, great kind folks! The same indwelt by T3E’s that were inside and controlling the Roddenberry Star Trek crew, all know these truths, and my proofs to all these seemingly beyond bizarre and wild claims, is the wormhole at the very center of our MWG (Milky Way Galaxy). Back in these days and times of these original sixties STAR TREK TV SHOWS, they would have no humanly possible way of knowing about the center-galactic wormhole. But those fictional Vulcan resident mystics all knew of it, in the show, and now if you’re all dumb enough to buy into that 1312.4 Star-date episode, ‘WNMHGB’ for initialed-title, then so be it; but I do not! Interesting star-date too; and we don’t need to touch on anything here, Mister Munster, and mister Callas! Hey, look at it all this way, people, YO, to quote one of these two, “I’m oudda here”, and to quote the other of these two, “I’ll keep my whittle mouth shut”. Well, for now, but still, Detective Lenny Briscoe, sir! Raymundo Restaurant visitors and all, and many a bumpy road with both supernatural and natural dice rolls. Who the Christmas trees out here remembers that African-American lady who came to Cifaloglio forcing me to do all kinds of paperwork and tests, shortly before the Snyder-Takeover of my once nice small security guard outfit called Initial Security, up in Pleasantville Katyqueen, New Jersey?

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Aunt Alice Gallagher, of Chicago, Illinois; I’ll bet you’d do just about anything, not to have climbed into bed with my mom’s cousin Arthur Huntington, that last freaking night of your life, before he took a dam ax to you and your dam mom down the hallway.

Diva Shania, and her colorful non dreamed city of major song rip offs, merely opens a few cracked peep holes, in the dam ass doorway, to many truths and secrets; about both music, and its interaction with Mountainpen (me) for crying out freaking ass loud, YO!!! And I am going to take us a bit further now, down this dark evil demonic hallway of mystical, outlandish, and even sleuth defying esoteric bull-crap, Mister power-puncher-teen Scott Frazier bulschavick of all great Russia nations, everywhere. My best to Mister SNOWED-IN, and Aunt Late Geraldine S. Mason, too, ‘civoo-play’. Yes it is misspelled, but like I give a shit, Mister Cousin!

Dave Roth put me onto the reality, that I am not allowed to anything with music; and this not being allowed, is a real BRICK-WALL and a real HALLS FORCE, and with his wild 1980 and 1990 accent, a real HALLS FAWCE! Being in with these forces can be a wonderful experience, and not be one bit SYFY, with all the half billion dollar famous price tags involved, from morning lights, to symbolism, to fixed powers that make little people like me whom they target for death and destruction, sometimes slowly over a tortured fucking lifetime, something that goes beyond any way of expressing this in words, as there just are no god dam words. But concentrically folks, having these HALLS FAWCES wiping you out on a consistent continual unrelenting basis, THAT is an entirely other fucking ballgame; ladies and gentlemen. THAT is my story, and has been since I was physically born as the human-me. I did not begin on that date and time, only Mark Wayne Mohr did, and I can promise you, I am not Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr. You would not believe a thing I would and could tell, so why dam bother? I know it is all true, and so does dam ass GOD!

YO, I cannot tell exactly who told what, or what I heard through what IMHO were very reliable grapevines, and things along this nature; BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, I learned around the time that I was writing my blog about a year, that I am already in this family of great washcloths, long before I was brought further into it, during a summer time act of passion, underneath the Central Pier of Atlantic City!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Image result for images of lighthouses at night

Now why exactly, Sarah Callio Martino, somewhere in hyperspace; trapped me in a lighthouse, and yelled my name out, over and over, ‘JoJo-JoJo; I will never totally know, so let me widen the scope of the topic, so we can see this in a larger blend of bigger pictures, and out of one tiny confined box; great ladies and gentlemen. First, my spell-checker is disabled, so I must close the word program out and reboot into it to activate the anti-hack procedure. OK I’m back, EVIL CHUCKIE, DAWN-MARIE, BEETLEJUICE NONSTAR, and FREDDY ELM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

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Someone has gone to more trouble than the Romans to kill Jesus Christ, to prevent me from doing many things, that on the surface, appear to be a ridiculous claim on my part, but unlike Mister Pedersen and his avoidance of living on more than the surface of life for the most part; I live in a deep dark hole, not of my own choosing or making; and I must realize when 5,000 dam ass things all happen, somewhere, this just cannot be one dam string of extremely unlucky coincidences.

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Being specific is not as we 60’s kids said a lot, my thing. If pressed, any informative and educational book at all, as well as great detective stories, and some paranormal research books also.

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Without my god dam FIREFOX-BROWSER, the blogs look all fucked up and stupid-ugly. Oh well, I can pay the Staples Guru and eat crackers and warm tea for two to six fucking weeks, or I can eat better, and look fucking dumber. STUPID-UGLY, a great way to express how a non-FF browser, seems to interact with the Blogger software. OH SHEEEEEEEEIT!

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Image result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny faces

Poolroy-95; and the mayor, but not the Mayor of France; and poor old screwed up Mountainpen; we’re all just so dam endlessly CLUELESS, along with maybe the kids of America and that lovely teen queen Kim Wild. Holy Disney Punches.

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END TRANSMISSION.

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 12:05 PM

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SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-19-2015

December 19, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Saturday, December 19, 2015

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Folks, I have traded stocks, options, commodities, speculated with interest rate changes, and in th elate nineteen-seventies I had million dollar gold contracts, as in those days, a measly 800 dollars would allow a commodities trader to buy one million dollar gold contract. I made and lost thousands of dollars, in an hour, totally outdoing myself half a decade later on, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, at their casinos. I enjoy speculation, or did when I was younger with my life ahead of me, able to afford the seemingly insensible risks. I could go on an don here, but I have nothing whatsoever against capitalism, America, or the stock market. HOWEVER, BACK IN MIDDLE AUGUST OF 1986, something happened to me, in a parallel universe, that you all insist on labeling, merely a very weird and unnatural extremely vivid nightmarish dreaming experience. FINE, see it in whatever way makes you at least listen to my god dam fuckign story, kind lads and lassies out here. I am NOT AGAINST America, and I am not against money or capitalism, or even rich people. When I grew up, rich people were a little bit nicer. They didn’t want to just get richer endlessly, and have a secret goal and agenda to make everyone else around them, literally THEIR SLAVES for their amusement. This is what’s going on in present times and has been for two decades or so, after Mister Reagan changed the world of the hippies into the world of the greedy eighties. It’s not all his fault, I actually like the guy to some degree and in many ways. BUTTTTTTTTT; this great and powerful man, and our President-#40; did some things that altered the course of the planet, and for all I know, he more than anyone in political office other than for one running for office now and probably will indeed become President MacInvondi, who you’ll all know only as who he appears when not ESS indwelt by his doppelganger; but yes, Mister RR did some things that would never be able to be covered in a few short blogs from poor old Mountainpen. You’d need to go to college for years and learn all about sociological and historical items and get some kind of a liberal arts or similar type degree, and even then, you’ll need to get out of there, with your dam degree; and learn to begin thinking about the shit all around you, with your now new found knowledge and awareness; FOR YOURSELVES!!!!!!!! No amount of time in a learning hall is going to make you think and reason. They do try, but then, we must remember that even though colleges are less connected to the powers that be and thus will open up our minds way past high schools that are under extremely strict and stringent guidelines of local and state and federal boards that oversee education, or in many cases, altered and lacks there of. My uncle who lived first in Masapeaqua Park, up on LINY, and then later after the toaster oven fire that supposedly burned down their home, which I do not know if I am buying into that story told to the family, as we have so very many family Collins-Type Dark Shadows secret-closet-skeletons, that I take things with a grain of salt, such as my Aunt, his wife of many years, and a very healthy strong woman, suddenly dying from a flu shot in 1976, shortly after she consoled my mom after her horrible failed romantic experience, with her boss from work at Lavino Shipping Company, a Chicago native and married an devil selfish man, by the name of Mister Edwin R. Potter! But yes, house fire or no house fire, resulting from a toaster left on in a kitchen, they then moved down wind on the island, into a place that many today just call South Huntington, but it is the village of Babylon, New York, a lovely spot in Suffolk County, in New York State, just a few miles away from where my daughter was born, and where my Aunt Ruth’s daughter after she married, moved just down the block from, as you all know from my telling of the dog-walking story. But back again without any further digressing, from tangents me; I have nothing against my late rich, (NOT RICK—TYPO, SAHWEE) relative, my mom’s cousin Ruth’s hubby, Mister SIR Heinz Gottwald. He was a hard working old banker, and a German here in America at the wrong time, who got treated real badly by his banking associates, even once by Fred Trump, my distant cousin’s pop, who did a lot of reale estate stuff in the Public Housing sector, in areas outside of Manhattan, such as Queens. I am not against rich people, although rich is one thing, in my day this meant 200,000 dollars up to 100 times that much, say maybe 20 MILL. After that, it was not rich, and rich peeps hate the word ‘rich’ by the way, but this is now translates to WEALTHY. If you think there is no difference, think again, peeps!Still, I traded with top firms as a young man in his middle dam twenty’s, YO, such as when I met Stock Broker Richard Singer, Arty singer’s kid, at the Merrill Lynch Corp. I have banked at top banks, invested with top investment houses, had many powerful and wealthy friends, and my family at one time could tell stories that would only result as the Official Braggers Club. I am not a bragger, and am merely trying to explain what changed, both with me, as well as in the world itself. The Aunt of my mother, who could see halo’s on people or energy-fields, and this was real; was what we would today label as our ‘crazy relative’, but she was known and loved and respected by all of OLD Hollywood, and was a great reader of plays, her name was Maud Huntington, and she married a man whose last name was Benjamin, and Hollywood even today knows and remembers my Great-Aunt Maud Huntington Benjamin. I don’t hate celebrities or wealthy people, or the stock market, and certainly I don’t fucking hate my country, merely what it is being turned into, that I do hate, and I fight in my little way with words, to try and let dummy assholes everywhere see these mountains of wool that is being pulled over all of our eyes by lots of very evil people, and even bigger still, by their dream-controlling doubles, or doppelgangers, from the Exploratronic Supermind Society, as my Morianity calls and labels this nice wonderful guys and gals from hell or wherever. My Huntington family descended directly from Mister Samuel Huntington. For crissake YO, this man was a FOUNDING-FATHER of this great nation!!!!!!!!!! He signed the dam Declaration Of Independence for the sake of dam ass Moses. This was my seventh direct grand-pappy, YO DOGS! THIS IS MY GOD DAM COUNTRY!!!!!!!! I only hope my dam ass crazy cousin gets in and fixes it and makes it strong again, as no one has the balls to say the truth like he does, NO ONE!!!!!!! He knows we are and have been for decades, GOING TO HELL IN A GOD DAM HAND BASKET, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!! Samuel Huntington was a four-time-elected governor, the Governor of Connecticut, dying in his fourth term, in office, to quote my Moomy Deaest and Mommy Dearest, “With his boots on”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTTTTTT, this doesn’t mean I want to be bailing out billionaire people like a lot of evil rotten folks on Wall Street. They lost money by doing stupid moves and making rotten bets on things, and then they want little me and little all of you out there, to pay their bills, and I say this fuckiGN sucks a trucks and it isn’t one dam ass bit fair; and that is all that I am saying!!! I say that when capitalism is permitted to run wild, and out of control, without any limits whatsoever; then we naturally will progress to either a major eventual revolution, or else the entire system will end up with the surfs and the nobles all over again, with all of us slaves saying yazzur to our masters, 24-7-365. That is what I am saying, and THAT is my beef, and it should be your beef, to anyone out here who hasn’t had a brain transplant with a dam chimpanzee!

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

]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL ® 1980

MARK WAYNE MOHR

PINK GODDESSES

MORNING LIGHTS

DESTRUCT SWITCHES

GARY MITCHELLS

AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM SHATNER KIRKS

[ 14 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

PAu002153196

1996

[ 15 ]

Mohr, Mark W., 1954-

Sarah.

SRu000332786

1996

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END TRANSMISSION.

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 8

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I only go overboard telling secrets, when things are stepped up to DEATH-LEVEL around me, by Mili-2-Force Otammites. They would do the very same thing to me, if our roles were reversible. They know it, and I know they know it, so to nearly quote Lillian Erby. Back in late September of 1965, “Now who’s kidding who”?

DECEMBER 19, 2015,

SATURDAY AFTERNOON AT 1:29,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 73 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-73/L-52). NICE AND COOL!

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 55%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 77.

WIND IS NE AT 8, WITH GUSTING TO 24.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

SEAS AND LAKES HAVE CHOPS FROM WIND AND ADVISORIES ARE ON TWB FOR SMALL CRAFTS.

I hear the rockin’ robins up on J-Bird Street.

TweetTweetTweetTweetTweetTweetTweetTweet

I think their freaking singing out their tweet-tweet-tweet.

Oh rockin’ Robin, you’re really gonna’ rock 2-NITE!!!

In any event, all birds and Twitter users; I am glad I was fucked with, and no longer play that stupid social media game for new-age total fucking morons. Talk about wasting your life and your precious energy, as we all are born with a precise fixed amount of this life-energy, and without Tim Barber’s Integ-Mulwatioss machine; that is that; ”kaput” to quote my old eighth grade social studies teacher, Mister Quay, up at the Haddon Township High School.

Image result for images of lighthouses

A GREAT PLACE TO SHOP; FOLKS!

Yes, all great COMCAST services everywhere, but that word everywhere can mean quite a powerful and precious truth about the great Mizz McCoo’s Fifth Dimension, and I believe that my awesome kid knows way more than she has ever been willing to me me, SO FAR!

Maybe if I put another five cents in Nicks great machine; I will be taken back to that cool wild transdimensional Comcast area with the frightening Jurassic Park animals and twisty curvy roads, and musical amplifiers in large rooms, all over the place. LIKE WOW, R.H.M.

Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

Oh yes wonderful Donna, it will be so totally all right, in the morning lightHOUSE and yes Mister Smart-Words Microsoft, also in the morning light!!!!!!

She used to say, and I quote; “If you don’t like cats and dogs and kids, there’s got to be something wrong with you somewhere”. I am speaking of the world’s great and now sadly late, disco diva, Mizz Donna Gaines Summer!

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[ 26 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

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

PAu000204016

1980

[ 27 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Same title.

PAu003037983

2005

[ 28 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Thanx to the shadows.

PAu002237985

1997

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Do you wanna' know another big powerful cosmic secret that takes going through a lifetime of hell, AND SURVIVING IT; to be able to get onto; as 99.999999999 percent of peeps would have all gone nuts, or died by now; should they have been me; these incredible otherwise forever lost, and locked up cosmic secrets? I have a witness, Mister Tom Glenn, my 1980 musical arranger, who also arranged my 'LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS' SONG, and played the guitar, and base guitar, on separate tracks, at my apartment, at 1802 Robin Hill, early in 1981; using my RS-1500-US open reel full track mastering machine tape recorder. If he witnesses it some day, by some miracle, oh great Canon-granter-Pope, and Your eminence Holy Sir; talk about walking on water, or in my case, soaring through it at will; enjoying the sound of whipping winds in my dam ears as I go; a feeling not humanly describable, and my story goes endlessly unknown about, by the mass population of this world; and gee, I really wonder why, YOUR-M? LIKE-DUH, oh great and powerful (GAP) Hyundai-2007 Automobile Company people. YO! Yes folks, I wrote a song called, THE MORNING LIGHT, not MORNING LIGHT; and the GAP U.S. Copyright © Office, changed the title, to just MORNING LIGHT. Back in 1966, fourteen years ago from this time, that show aired live on television, Star Trek, in 1966, called, “Where No Man Has Gone Before”, where the fictional character Mister Gary Mitchell, was telling Doctor Walking Freezer Unit Lovelyblond, about the 1996 greatest love sonnet ever written, on the Canopious Planet, also all fictional, but beyond cosmically powerful through the symbolism that I'll now get into here with all of you kind peeps, YO! You see after the top crew made the decision to strand Gary Mitchell on a deserted planet so they could make good an escape, after the great Pink Goddess had turned him into a god, and he was not handling his powers in a very positive way for humanity and was threatening the safety and security of Captain Kirk's starship, the enterprise, they had Gary Mitchel successfully contained in a force-field brig prison that they had on the planet, while they were attempting to effect repairs on the ship that was above them in orbit, after being heavily damaged by PINK GODDESS when they tried unsuccessfully to leave the MWG (Milky-Way-Galaxy). Without boring you all to tears and insanity here, there was another member of the crew who was assisting Engineer Scott, the First Officer Spock, and Captain Kirk, and Engineer Lee, in this project of repair as well as confinement for this ever powerfully growing god they had on their hands, who used to be Gary Mitchell, and a close personal friend of Captain Jim Kirk's, from back in the Starfleet-Academy. This other engineer had my first name, MARK. He and Captain Kirk were talking, and Kirk wanted Lee to construct a 'destruct switch' in case their plans failed, and Mitchell broke loose. There also was a doctor there, and Kirk had asked this man, after Mitchell did indeed escape his brig-prison, if he knew which way he had gone when leaving the building or science lab, or whatever they were all inside of, on this deserted planet, that ''even the ore ships only visited every 20 years''; to quote the captain. Anyway, this doctor, right after Kirk told him not to give Spock a reviving medical pill, after the electrical shock that Mitchel had knocked Kirk and Spock out with; said to Kirk, that Mitchel had gone in such a direction, and his exact words were in his sentence 'There's some MORNING LIGHT'. If you want to order this fantastic 1966 SYFY on VHS or DVD, I am sure NETFLICKS or COMCAST or someone will rent or even sell it to you. I got my copy for seventy cents on a VHS tape collectors edition, at my local GOOD WILL STORE, a couple of years or so ago. Each of these VHS collector item STAR TREK tapes come with two episodes of this beyond fantastic SYFY space show. This was a whole dam decades before HALLS FAWCES from STAR WARS ever was doing much more than being inside the heads of some writer who would go onto express their great ideas a decade later. The second episode on this particular VHS tape, is “MUDD'S WOMEN”. The video-box containing the tape, will say on the back side, for the show that I am discussing and have been for many months or maybe a year or more now, STARDATE: 1312.4 and it is illegal for me to type the exact words below it, so to paraphrase it, it says how they find a 200 year old space ship, called USS Valiant. They go onto call my PINK GODDESS, (a magnetic storm at the edge of the galaxy). It then basically describes in their words, just what I told so far about what happens on this marvelous SYFY show of space-fiction. Gary Mitchel is played by Gary Lockwood. The gorgeous blond doctor who also plays a main role along with him in this show is portrayed by the actress that stared on some other cool TV shows of those days, and I forgot her name, and the tape box does not give that information. Now laugh all you wish to people, the U.S. © Office took my song title of , THE MORNING LIGHT, and Tom Glenn knows this, and so do others out here, and they for reasons unknown to me, altered this title by removing the first of the three words of it, the word “THE”, and leaving only, the exact words spoken in th at STAR TREP TV SHOW, by the doctor, about Gary going off in a certain direction, and how there was some morning light out there. This is all real, and it happened. And folks, it did not just happen nor did it happen, only, as the tents there are incorrect. All of this is HAPPENING, and will go on forever, HAPPENING, because PINK GODDESS, not some random non sentient magnetic storm that hovers outside of our galaxy, is BEHIND THIS ENTIRE DEAL, and as we in the west may know her as LORDESS JEHOVAH-NEECY, and I know her as GODDESS SARAH STACEY KRASSKLE, and the eastern areas may know her other name Elohim in its very ancient translation to ALLAH, and as they say it so well, it is all the very same GOD, pure energy, who to it, without gender in truth, can blink one of her beautiful eyelashes, and multiverses will vanish into dust, or be created from nothing into everything, as this is all just piss, to my beautiful awesome and beyond unfathomable cubed, Almighty SSJKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

USA Flag

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

No matter how often it is spoken in Morianity, or even if Morianity had never come to Planet Earth at all, through Mountainpen, AKA the ripped off failed musician, Mark Wayne Mohr; the reality of the TRIUNE TREASURES of TRUTH would not be altered. Even with all of the laws of Quantum Dynamics and Quantum Physics, all combined, from every physics lab on this entire planet; that may say MIND must observe SPACE-TIME in order to create STM (Space-Time-Mind), this TTT of ultimate indisputable reality and power, would remain, HYPERSPACE, DREAMING, AND

EXPLORATRONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Arthur Huntington, hung himself in a basement of his home, after murdering his wife and mother in law quite brutally with an ax, in their sleep. What a dam ass LOVELY FAMILY I HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE IF YOU PLEASE!!!!

Now folks, this all took place in a Boston suburb area, known as BRAINTREE, up in wonderful great Massachusetts, where most of the time, temperatures are so nice and cool. I LOVE YOU BOSTON, sorry my Huntington family disgraced and embarrassed your wonderful city. The Roxberry section was where the greatest disco diva who ever lived, was from, Mizz DONNA SUMMER. She always used to say, “If you don't like cats and dogs and kids, there's got to be something wrong with you somewhere”. I think this wonderful girl was 100% on the money correct, YO!

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The Bum Classification, CHAPTER 0000.

YO BUDDY;

Hay, I didn't fuckiGN say you have to go all crybaby over it either, YO!!!!

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Boy oh boy oh boy, Moomy Deaest, do I need a thousand year vacation from my life here on Earth as present-me, Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr!!!!! LIKE—–W—–O—–W; Mister 34-RHM!

Holy Moley and holly Molly Ringworm scratching, lads and lassies; to perfectly quote without any fear of a lawsuit, the great and wonderful, and totally hot lovely JUJU (Judge Judy), “WHAT NEXT”?

Boy oh boy oh boy, Moomy Deaest, do I need a thousand year vacation from my life here!

Let me spend the next thousand years in little cabins out in areas such as this, with only my beautiful lightning around 24-7-365, to endlessly keep me happy and thrilled.

MY BLOGS, PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM:

• Morianity Bible For Millenium Three:

• Morianity Foundation

• The Epitome of Harassment – Internet Version

• To Whom It May Concern From The Head Morian

• RATS, TATS, & PLAYING REAL FOOTBALL

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.

All right lovely little Evelyn, up in Babylon, NYUSAESMWG, back in 1968, next door to my snooty-rick-unks place, 1t 175 Peninsula Drive, YO; I think you knew some of the great mysterious super janitors, of the Andy Gaines non-disco Bernie Derakowski club, and if not, then I'll bet dimes to friggin' donuts that the old ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT CABLE CHANNEL, sure does. WO THAT, sir Billy H.!!!!!

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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 8

It has rained this afternoon, steady and medium-hard, and the relative humidity is and has been at 100%. I used to think when it rained, the humidity had to be at 100%, but I was educated a few months back, watching the greatest cable channel of them all, THE WEATHER CHANNEL, that this is not necessarily the case, that it may be raining, and the humidity may be quite less than the full 100%. I thought I knew my onions, but I will always trust what I hear said on TWC, so long as it isn't the guys and gals just clowning and having fun. This was told by a meteorologist who was in their weather-lab, and I learned something that day. Thank you, TWC!

To me it feels 95 out there, but that is old hot screwy me. THB (The Weather Bug) application (APP) on my PC (Personal Computer, says that it is 71 degrees now at twenty minutes shy of five, on this late rainy Friday afternoon, with 100% R.H., making it feel like 76. As I said, they say it, and I believe it, I JUST SURE AS TRH ELORD, MISS LORETTA MARY HARTMAN OF 1976, DON'T DAM FEEL IT!!!

KRAZY-KATYS DAIRY QUEEN FUDGE SUNDAE ICE CREAM TREATS, YO, WHAT IS HAPPENING TO PLANET EARTH, GREAT FOLKS OUT HERE? Why am I the only son of a sea-cook, that seems to know and fully be aware of the fact, that no way in hell, can times just change this fast, and become so totally beyond off the wall, cubed-Cuban, and then re-squared? I mean even all the old farts that are my own dam ass age and much older than me, look at me, most of them; and folks, I can tell they are every bit as clueless as Poolroy-95, driving along in his Titan Security puffed up car, and making all of WHNYUSAESMWG, talk about him! Jeepers-Creepers PPK!

Image result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny facesImage result for images free funny faces

To this I will give you my little personal opinion, to which I too am totally entitled to, Mizz Mashell RPL Daniels of 1980, and that is “BULLSHIT ON ALL OF YOU, CUBED, AND CUBAN, AND THEN RE-SQUARED”!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

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

Have yourselves a merry little day, all Merry's out there, and all else, YO! How can you worry about your dam job, Copyright examiners of 2008? I love you Eddie Green, you've got a dam heart, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!

USE THIS TITLE for pasting link and general info to WORDPRESS:

WORDPRESS CAP FOR 2015 and onward.odt

#****(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))****#

***(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))***

]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL ® 1980

MARK WAYNE MOHR

PINK GODDESSES

MORNING LIGHTS

DESTRUCT SWITCHES

GARY MITCHELLS

AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM SHATNER KIRKS

(SEPTEMBER 28, 2011) REPRINT FROM BOM.

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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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, http://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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did you burn my whole stash, boy Rigsby???

END TRANSMISSION.

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Labels: CENTER GALACTIC WORMHOLE DISCOVERIES, guess the name of the guests, HALLS FAWCES OF STAR WARS, STAR TREK, THE PINK GODDESS RULES SUPREME

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▼ 2015 (746) ▼ December (49) SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-19-2015
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 8
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 7
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6-PART B
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5-6/PART A
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 4
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 3
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 2
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 1
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-16-2015
CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB
Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 33, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 32, AMP——-CEMB
Chapter 31, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 30, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-13-2015
Chapter 29, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
CHAPTER 27, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 28, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 27—A/B, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 26, CHRIS, ED, and the MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD…
Chapter 25, CEMB—–AMP
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-11-2015 LATE ON FRID…
Chapter 24, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 23, AMP—–CEMB
Supplemental Blog Entry Number 2 for December 10, …
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-10-2015
Chapter 22, AMP—CEMB
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF DECEMBER 9, 2015
Chapter 21, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 20, CEMB—AMP (C) Mountainpen—2006-2015…
Chapter 19, AMP—CEMB
Chapter 18, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 17, AMP—Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
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Chapter 15, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
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Chapter 13, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
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GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, OUT THERE IN TIME-DELAY NETFUTURE

December 18, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Friday, December 18, 2015

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6-PART B

THIS IS THE ‘B’ PART OF THIS BLOGGING TEXT.

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5/6—PART-B

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WELL KICK MY ASS, CHARLIE BROWN.

I SMELL MORE THAN ENGLISH BLOOD, FEE-FI-FO-FUM.

The sum total of the pieces and parts of Mountain’s life, for those who have studied it on my ten year blog project, is as Dawn-Marie King said so perfectly and accurately with her world famous saying that I think she may have started, “It is what it is”. Still I started things somewhat earlier than this, just by living in Atco, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG, at 134 Norris Avenue. This address, somebody or some group, millions of years ago, already planned and made total sure, that I would live at for two thirds of one year of time. Taking that number-street address’s number of 1-3-4, the 34 is beyond unmistakable, as in only ONE 34 that matters, and that is the year that follows of 1984, that is mathematically reached by the two forward mode arithmetic functions, done twice, you know; (34), 3+4=7, 3×4=12. Then 7+12=19, 7×12=84. So now we have the 19 and the 84, and this, when we place these two numbers together, is 1984. But then there is one more magical little piece of symbolism here, at that is the Atco street address, of the home that I rented in 1983, while my choking condition was given to me by my WOMO-MILITUFORCE ENEMIES. We take Dawn-Marie King’s magical little “IT IS WHAT IT IS”, and we get 5 total words in her sentence. The first word ‘IT’ is word-1. The second word ‘IS’ is word 2. The third word ‘WHAT’ is word 3. The fourth word (second ) ‘IT’ is word 4. The fifth and final word (second) ‘IS’ is word 5. Now in this pasted in sentence below, I have two colors used.

“IT IS WHAT IT IS”

Observe the story this 1983 street address appears to tell, in its quite magical flash-forward state. When you use the word-numbering of 1-5 in this powerful sentence, what comprises th eword for the great Babylonian goddess who went onto be used in more sinister and dangerous global problems in this twenty-first century, ‘ISIS’, is made by combining the word numbers of 25. Then taking the three remaining words, and strung together; this makes the number of the Atco address on Norris Avenue, 134. Oh well, all great Atco, New Jersey residents, ”IT WHAT IT”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That old wonderful sixties Hoffman-trippin’-drug known as LSD, is also known as the great-25, back in the day. Ask any hippie turned yuppy (Young Urban Professional Person) as they became known as in th e70’s and the 80’s, and they will tell you. It also was called the HAWK, the Travel Agent, and numerous other wild Fascitar names. Those who needed to cheat, cheated. BUTTTTTTTTT folks, the FASCITAR when mastered, which normally takes a couple of weeks of bed-practice and (non-sexual) of course, and no body needs mess around with any dangerous and illegal dope, to travel around, and prove the truths of Morianity.

Last night, shortly before sunup time, Diana and I were at this lovely waterfall on the Astral Plane that is about 80,000 feet tall, and about a mile wide, with thundering deafening inconceivable amounts of water, tumbling into a giant purplish-reddish colored lake that is about ten square miles; only on this realm, all three dimensions count; so its depth allows both its ‘nestern’ and its ‘woustern’ shores, to actually be a reality to interact with. Even though the depth of this small lake is only about 3,000 feet, this still allows both sides to be accessed. Try that here in waking hyperspace, and you would fall down on your head. Moving this right along, we had quite a talk after she made wild and passionate love to me, and I remember a few highlighted parts of our intense discussion; as it was about my prior weekend back here in my waking life, and in this exact universe where I am typing this now out to all of you, in the immense, and unfathomable gargantuan vastness, of the total combined fifth dimensional hyperspace multiverse.

I asked the electron (Goddess-Diana), why this monster unspeakably despicable assault on me, seemed to begin this past weekend, and she is only allowed by the great SSJKK or MOTHER part of her Triune-Beingness, in Her Great (HOLY) City of SDK, to tell me by playing the game that we all know and remember from child-hood, called, “You’re Getting Warmer”. We call it ”HOT & COLD”. It’s the very same rules, merely my altering the nomenclature a little bit.

I will not lie to you, great folks out here. I do not remember any details, other than for Lightning (my beautiful giant awesome colorful coil of pure energy), telling me, that I was very very red hot; when I brought up a certain topic, while I was trying to guess all around all of the possible answers for why this past weekend, began all of this dam super-hell that went all the way through the end of Wednesday and even early into Thursday morning, with that horrendous electrical assault or ET-siege, and if you remember folks, ET in Morianity; stands for only two possible things, END TRANSMISSION, and Electromagnetic-Pulsaton-Technology.

Yes, I asked if it was the stock market, and was told quite emphatically that it was not. Again, I never said that maybe ”REALITY-3” is not involved, at least many times, as how in the name of spitting baseball players, can I ever totally come to know such absolutes? I doubt 100 Briscoe and Green guys, Perry Mason’s, and the entire Super-Sleuth-Society of Earth (SSSE) would be able to ever totally get to the bottom of that fucking very difficult truth, BRAH! Then I asked Lightning, over our communications system that is connected directly into Diana’s Code Cabin machine, on a metaphysical level that 99.999999999 of the global population would be so totally clueless about, that I won’t even make the attempt to explain it, but yes, I asked her if it had anything to do with ENTERTAINMENT BIZZ and its PEEPS, and this is when I was told I was RED HOT in our HOT & COLD GAME! I asked if I could blog some things that she told me later on, as SSJKK, for the official record, and there was one thing that she said that I could, and I thought to myself this was unusual for her to tell me that I could, but she was playing with me, as she has totally erased this from my conscious waking world memories; my kind folks. Oh well, in or out of the great marvelous country of FRANCE; ”SAY-LEVY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEE.

ALL SAVANTS KNOW THIS ONE; “THE END”.

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Labels: 1983 and 1984, absolute power corrupts absolutely, guess the name of the guests, hot and cold games, THE PINK GODDESS RULES SUPREME

Thursday, December 17, 2015

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5-6/PART A

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 5 & 6

THIS IS BLOG ‘A’

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SSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOO, MISTER ARTHUR CRANE SIR; I’m watching, and boy am I in th edam soup. You and I never knew back when the great Queen of Kings tried to run us down at that Super-Walmart of Washington Township or Monroe Township, as I am not sure where the township line is exactly dam drawn there, back up in Jersey, but I’ll not soon forget that day when SHE nearly murdered us with VEHICULAR-HOMOCIDE-TECHNOLOGY, AKA hitting people intentionally with their dam cars. WOW those dam radio stations up in Jersey, from Trenton to Atlantic city, and then still, to quote Lenny Briscoe of L&O, what can you expect with Jersey politics? Maybe they are all choir people, but they sure hate me, and they sure seemed to hate you when we were together that dam, ass day, old pal!!!!!!!!! boy did I get struck hard, Sheriff Mascara sir, at 10:55 last night, Thursday night, with a super gang of dirt bag motor-cyclists, outside of my dam ass apartment window. Someday, someone here at this building, will get a fatal heart attack; and I want these blogs up ON THE RECORD, so someone can sue someone, down the dam ass line, YO YO YO YO YO, MY VRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, other than for this, I was amazed that all the other persecution was lessened if not completely broken off during the day, after that horrendous electrical-utility assault on me with my outlet where this computer terminal is plugged into, and the machine was temporarily damaged as a result with that lock-up box screen, SHERIFF SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How I love the great ESS-COMCAST, in that other parallel-universe, where a long winding road takes you to their main national office, and all around it is a park like the famous Jurassic Park, with huge dangerous dinosaur animals roaming all over on each side of that scary road. Of course, I’m being somewhere between facetious and totally sarcastic!!!

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9 of 15

Caught on Tape

Watch: Suspect Robs Bank on Live TV

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• Watch: Infamous Pharma CEO Gets Arrested

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30 Amazing Last-Minute Gift Ideas

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• Stocking Stuffers for Less Than $30

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Get some tips for how to make sense of these intimidating, confusing bastions of finance. How They Work, and Sometimes Don’t »

• High-Yield CD Rates

• IRA CD Rates

• 1-Year CDs

• What Not to Buy in December

Life Lessons

4 Times It’s Actually Better to Procrastinate

Pushing something off into the future shouldn’t always have such a negative connotation. When Not to Beat Yourself Up »

• Why Re-Evaluate Your To-Do List?

• Survive Being Stranded on a Winter Road Trip

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THE OLD REDACT-HACK, SHERIFF MASCARA, SIR

December 18, 2015

A private illegal airplane nearly flew into my apartment window, Sheriff Mascara, while typing right now, at exactly 2:12 this Friday morning, 18 December, 2015. This has been going on and getting extra fucking bad around holidays and especially Christmas Holidays, ever since this fucking nightmare all began for me, when I came out of a POWERFUL DREAMING-INTERACTION, back on August the 15th, in 1986, as you should all know perfectly well, BY NOW!!! If the souls could be measured here in waking life on this planet, of those Earthers who do horrible monster things to innocent pitiful little people such as me; and if this could be somehow translated pictorially, it might just be mapped and visualized something like the photograph below, on material world medical charts, like some super advanced electroencephalograph. To view this hack, click here and read until you see the hacked out lines of redaction.
http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/

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MONSTER DEATH PERSECUTION OF THE MOUNTAINPEN

December 17, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 2

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

CHAPTER 2

My Photo

Hopefully, Merry, all your questions have been successfully answered in all universes. I did my best, and as usual, my best always totally sucks.

Living in this horrible evil demonic nation for sixty-one years has been a nightmare hell. I tell anyone now from other nations, YOU DO NOT WANT TO COME INTO THIS HORRIBLE FUCKING ROTTEN PLACE, IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU!!!!!

Image result for sheriff ken j. mascaraMy PhotoAttorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi

Apollo Astronaut Says UFOs Came to Prevent Nuclear War

Yesterday 12:10pm

Please go back to your own universe, and let this one blow up, thank you! If you cva hear me Almighty Goddess SSJKK, I take back my request that I presented to you on th eother side of the Eden-Fence. Let them all die!

END TRANSMISSION.

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Labels: ANOTHER WORST FUCKING DAY IN FLORIDA, ANOTHER WORST FUCKING TIME IN FLORIDA, ENEMIES FROM HELL, MAJOR COMPUTER HACKING, major utility persecution, TRUMP AND HIS WALL STREET PALS ARE KILLING ME

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 1

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS

CHAPTER 1

Posted by mark wayne mohr at 2:38 PM No comments:

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Labels: absolute power corrupts absolutely, CHEATING CROOKED WALL STREET, guess the name of the guests, I TOLD YOU GINA, ICPE-APE TECHNOLOGY, THE PINK GODDESS RULES SUPREME

In this book, before and if it closes out ever; my current audience of just whoever you all are and have been, will be added to a new one. This will happen as soon as I can afford to pay the necessary people to assist me with a managed and hosted website, that I will call Morianity-Foundation-2, or if the old one is still available for me to take it back over, then I will, so there won’t be a number two at the end. I will pay by allowing the host to place ads just as they did on my other non-public site as shown above in red colored font, and most likely, still pay a nominal fee on top of that, probably if hosted, more than the just under $4.00 per month that it cost me before, but even if tripled, along with all the ads they wish to place on it, I can afford up to this amount, and by the gods, I will have this site, with all my links to those public ones such as BLOGGER and WORDPRESS, as long as they allow my blogs, which I do not think will be all that much longer, in this rapidly altering new age, where people like me, not loved by these owners of our American society because we don’t just accept without griping and belly-aching, all the shit that they feel is just fine to do to us day and night, you know; remove our dam ass freedoms, steal our fucking music by changing one note, paying off officials everywhere from the Senate and the House, to the dam Copyright Office, and on and On you all know that I can keep spouting off lists. As I said, THIS is exactly why, I feel that my fucking public blogging days are very numbered now, as both ISIS grows, and folks like me are perceived as enemies of the land; and our rights rapidly fuckign removed without trials or anything. Funny too, my dad predicted as if he already knew and saw all of this go down; and way mother fuckign back in early 1974, nearly forty-two fuckign years ago. He as many of you know, was a BATTLESHIP-ELDRIDGE EXPERIMENT SURVIVOER, and the legends tell us that this ship went out of normal space and out of normal time, so please don’t accept this blog’s word for any of this, before you form your own conclusions and opinions regarding it all. First, GOOGLE IT ALL UP for yourselves, under PHILADELPHIA EXPERIMENT, and other similar such items, as you search out the topic for yourselves. One thing those who have power over us know, at least until eventual fucking martial law will come and destroy America for all of us, and that is , even my nasty sounding threats against my enemies, never ever will be carried out in ILLEGAL WAYS. They may however wish that those other ways were what I chose, after I do exact my revenge soon, as my way leaves zero traces in any legal judicial court system for any possible prosecution, as electronic metaphysics is legal, and even when freedom of speech is removed sooner or later, I can make adjustments so that none of my words could possibly imply any form of threats that could lead to my punishment. Now with full on martial law, they can just come and take you and kill you and torture you, but long before then, I promise you all one mother fuckiGN thing. One way or the other, I’LL BE OFF THIS GOD DAM FUCKING PLANET!

My mother fuckiGN dirt bag enemies think that I need thousands of dollars for expensive electronic equipment. As that great wonderful hair shampoo commercial would say, or that gorgeous babe in it, back in 1980, “W-R-O-N-G”!!!!! Cheapo junk works just as well, as hyperspace and messing with it, isn’t one bit prejudiced against lousy sound quality and other low-budget related absurdities. Sorry to burst your safe-bubble, you bastard fuckign rotten super wealthies out there. And I do promise you, as I have all along, “Before you get to me, I’ll get to you”!

END TRANSMISSION.

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SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-16-2015

Monday before the opening bell on Wall Crooked Satanic Evil Empire Street, I WAS HIT I was STRUCK WITH A HORRIBLE LEG CHARLIE-HORSE, NOT CHARLIE HOUSE TYPO ERROR FIVE MINUTES LATER, THE DOW JONES OPENED FOR THE DAY.

Tuesday, my nabes began an all day and night assault on me after a major weekend assault of loud drums, screaming bratty children and lots of slamming fucking doors. THIS BEGAN ON TUESDAY AGAIN, just around the time before THE OPENING BELL ON WALL STREET FOR THE DAY.

TODAY, WEDNESDAY, three hours and five minutes BEFORE WALL STREET’S OPENING SATANIC DEMONIC FUCKING CHEATING ICPE-APE BELL, again I WAS STRUCK HARD, with a super nasty mean UTILITY ASSAULT on me an dmy AT&T telephone battery back up box, that I am going to take off line and throw in the mother fuckiGN trash, Sheriff Mascara sir, and Governor Rick Scott, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Three times this week, after an already HARD-STRUCK weekend attack on me, which would have given their cheated diseased fuckiGN stock markets a huge gain via illegal covert black stealthy operations program—-ICPE-APE-TECHNOLOGY, I was then RE-STRUCK EACH MOTHER ‘FUCKIGN’ CLIT HUFFING MORNING, RIGHT BEFORE OR SHORTLY BEFORE, THE OPENING MOTHER ‘FUCKIGN’ BELL ON WALL STREET. AS I TOLD YOU ALL, AND YOU TOO LOVELY NINETIES ‘FUCKIGN’ SWEET GIANT GINA; THE MARKETS FLEW AND FLEW AND FLEW, ALL WEEK, EACH AND EVERY DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And we wonder why some smart global fucking citizens call this over capitalized crooked place, the EVIL EMPIRE!!! I think I may have started it on my blogs when they began back early into 2006, who can mother fuckign know? But one thing I do mother fuckign know, and that is I AM A VERY MOTHER FUCKING ANGRY OLD MAN, and it is only a matter of time, UNTIL I MOTHER FUCKING ACT OUT, IN WAYS THAT GO WAY BEYOND THIS BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Between these evil billionaire scum sucking fucking dirt bag capitalist swine-pigs and their in-the-pocket ”Political Washills”, as Morianity now so names and categorizes them, not that I am saying for one dam minute Admiral Spock Whales, that all of them are no good, and crooked; as this is not the truth, and many are OK, and are honest descent servants of the fucking people, YO!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)

BY CHRISTMAS 2015, IT WILL BE 18,000. BY THE SUMMER TIME IN 2016, IT WILL BE 23,000; AND BY THE END OF 2016, IT WILL BE 30,000 POINTS; MY KIND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. I TOLD YOU, YO!!!

I KNEW WHEN THEY WERE POURING IT ON TODAY, THAT I WAS GETTING HAMMERED BY A BULL ON MOTHER FUCKING WALL STREET, JUST LIKE OVER THE FUCKING CUNT WEEKEND, GOOD FOLKS. I HAVE GONE THROUGH THIS MISERABLE ICPE-APE-PARALLEL-EVENT NIGHTMARE FUCKING CRAP SINCE AUGUST 15, 1986, SO I THINK I KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT AFTER ALL THIS MOTHER FUCKING TIME AND HELLISH PERSECUTION!!!!

NO MATTER WHAT ELSE IS REAL OR UNREAL, WITHOUT ONE REALITY, NONE OF THIS SHIT COULD BE GOING ON ALL OF THIS MOTHER FUCKING TIME, PEOPLE, YO! NOT WITHOUT A GUGE SUPER COVERED UP TRUTH THAT IS A MILLION MOTHER FUCKING TIMES BIGGER THAN ALL OF THIS UFO BULLSHIT SUBTRUTH FROM THIS ONE MAJOR ALL TIME REALITY OF HYPERSPACE, AND THIS HAS TO DOWITH ONE THING ONLY, KIND PEOPLE OF PLANET EARTH:

EXPLORATRONS

Signed in at 5:08 Post Meridian, 12/16/2015.

END TRANSMISSION.

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Labels: agents from hell, EVIL CROOKED WALL STREET, EVIL EMPIRE AMERICA, ICPE APE TECHNOLOGY, MAJOR MILITUFORCE DEATH ATTACK, major utility persecution, NIGHTMARES, NO RIGHTS FOR TINY PEOPLE

CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 35

I AM UNDER A MAJOR SERIOUS FUCKING ASSAULT AND ATTACK; GOVERNOR SCOTT, SHERIFF MASCARA, ATTORNEY GENERAL STATE OF FLORIDA MIZZ BONDI, AND ATTORNEY GENERAL FEDERAL MIZZ LYNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AT 6:25, THIS DIRT SUCKING CUNT SNIFFING MORNING, I WAS AWAKENED; A POOR PATHETIC VERY SICK OLD MAN; WITH A VERY LOUD ILLEGAL SQUEALING THROUGH MY BATTERY BACK YP AT&T PHONE-BOX, AGAIN, ACLU, FBI, LOCAL FORT PIERCE POLICE DEPARTMENT. MY ILLEGALS ACROSS FROM ME, ARE BACK AGAIN, SLAMMING UNTIL THREE IN THE MOTHER ‘FUCKIGN’ MORNING HERE, AT THIS PHA PARK TERRACE SHITHOLE BUILDING. I AM BEING HIT WITH DEATH RAY DESTRUCT BEAM PHYSICAL ATTACKS, THAT MAKE MY HEART SKIP AND FUCK UP; AND THE LIST GOES ON AND ON AND ON; AND WE ALL KNOW WHY IT STARTED ON THAT DAY IN JUNE; DON’T WE MAGIC WORKER FUCKING ICPE-APE ROTTEN COUSIN?????????

AND HERE COMES ANOTHER MOTHER FUCKING FIRE ALARM, SHERIFF SIR, AT 11:19 ANTE’ MERIDIAN, HERE AT THIS PHA HELL-HOLE SHIT DIPPING FART-HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I told you Gina, that THE STOCK MARKET WOULD RACE UP 1,000 ILLEGAL POINTS ON MY BACK THIS WEEK, so watch this illegal bull run keep right on going today, WEDNESDAY, and remember folks, that indeed, I MOTHER FUCKING TOLD CHALLS, YO!!!!!!!

National Outlook Video

What to do, and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, WOW Mister Shakespeare, what a question that would be, OR NOT BE, huh, YO???

DECEMBER 16, 2015,

LATE FRIDAY NIGHT AT 11:25,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 80 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-80/L-66).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 71%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 84.

WIND IS SSE AT 5, WITH A SMALL GUST TO 6.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

Ladder 15 just deactivated this nasty ass mother fucking fire-smoke alarm, piercing at me, at 11:28 Ante’ Meridian. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KMG out on emergency, ladder one five, or time out, or show before CHIPS comes on the cable channel. Good old municipal governments. Dave seemed to know what everything stood for, but was clueless as a Haddonwood pool visitor when it came to that shit that was put through my Moorestown telephone, ‘Munikay Munikay, break your codes off, Munikay code two’. And you wonder why I sent down those wild musical mother fuckiGN projects in 1988 and 1989, “The Epitome of Harassment”??????? And you still wonder why since 2006, I resurrected this fucking shit on the internet and on my blogs, called the INTERNET-VERSION??????? Well think some more!!!!!!!!!!

ORIGINAL TITLE MISSPELLINGS SHOWN HERE:

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

Well, while the great one and only Walmart Store suddenly sees things, along with my very mysterious daughter, and all of her wild friends; I on the other hand suddenly seemed to hear a non-audible voice, that kept saying to me, while I was staring off of the TV set, and onto my venetian blinds; “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”. “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle” “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes, I too have learned through these three decades of total fuckiGN hell, kind FBI; to do profiling, statistical analysis, and much more. You guys and gals ain’t the only one who the good fucking Lord handed out brains to, YO!!!!!!! My best to Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas, USA, BRO! Agent sir, you could help me if you wanted to, as you and only you in that bureau, totally know I am speaking the truth about being there in your home along with Ann and Dawn King, and all of the horror. Why do you sit there unwilling to come forward, and tell the law enforcement system that I was taught in fucking school, was there to protect the rights of American fucking citizens, and not be anywhere from cooperators to culpable indirect participators, in the very destruction of those very civil liberties that we citizens are supposed to have guaranteed to us under the CONSTITUTION, of this great marvelous United States of America, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wonder what the cosmos fuckign cunt significance is to the number 20.5, other than the great lovely Adele and then Mizz Swift with that other number-album musical project. You simply rearrange the 20.5 of those two “Epitome of harassment” music projects, remembering that zero is not a number, but a mathematical fill number to make it all work, and until the zero concept was invented, math and basic arithmetic never would work to perform operations, those basic four that are behind all of it, you know, addition and subtraction, and multiplication and division, not without that zero. So that is why the zero is there, but it is not a number the way that one through nine are numbers. So in that averaged 20 and 21 project number on the Copyright Office web-site, of 20.5, let us take out that non-number of zero, huh lovely Adele? Interesting though, is it not, how all the great artist with numbers for title names, seems to show a major cosmic symbolism to the epitome of harassment, long before we had the mother fucking INTERNET-VERSION of it, called, MORIANITY, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!

MAGNESONIC:

Whoever is persecuting me to death on this CHRISTMAS CHRISTLESS HELLIDAY ‘FUCKIGN’ HOLIDAY; SCAN AND DESTROY THEM, AND THEIR ENTIRE FAMILIES, ON ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES, ALL COMMANDS; AND YOU ARE SET TO FULL MAXED OUT FUCKING POWER, SO OBEY, OR ELSE BE TOTALLY DESTROYED YOURSELF. YOU ARE ON A PUNISHMENT DESTRUCT ‘I’ TO ‘D’ A/B-TONE PHASING SEQUENCING SYSTEM.

YOUR OLD STYLE AT&T TONES HAVE BEEN RESET TO THE COMPUTER TYPED FONT OF ANY TYPE AND SIZE, OF THE ”LONG EEEEEEEEEEEEE-VOWEL SOUND”, AND THE HIGHLIGHTED BLUE IS NOW THE FIRST HIGH TONE, WHILE THE HIGHLIGHTED RED IS NOW THE SECOND LOW TONE.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEE

AND————-S—T—O—P!!!!!!!!!!

Lots of mother fuckiGN sorry ass folks; will be whaling and their teeth will be gnashing, while they beg the poor man above, to dip a drop of fuckiGN water onto their miserable tongues, in their endless torment, in mother fuckiGN HELL!

END TRANNY; SICK DISEASED OLD GRANNY!!!

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Labels: ANOTHER WORST FUCKING TIME IN FLORIDA, DEATH SIEGE, DEATH TORTURE, DYING DECLARATION, DYING UTTERANCES, HELP ME SHERIFF KEN MASCARA SIR, major utility persecution, NABES FROM HELL, PUBLIC HOUSING SUCKS

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▼ 2015 (739) ▼ December (42) GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 2
GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 1
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-16-2015
CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB
Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 33, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 32, AMP——-CEMB
Chapter 31, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 30, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-13-2015
Chapter 29, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
CHAPTER 27, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 28, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 27—A/B, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 26, CHRIS, ED, and the MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD…
Chapter 25, CEMB—–AMP
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-11-2015 LATE ON FRID…
Chapter 24, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 23, AMP—–CEMB
Supplemental Blog Entry Number 2 for December 10, …
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-10-2015
Chapter 22, AMP—CEMB
SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF DECEMBER 9, 2015
Chapter 21, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 20, CEMB—AMP (C) Mountainpen—2006-2015…
Chapter 19, AMP—CEMB
Chapter 18, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 17, AMP—Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce B…
Chapter 16, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 15, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 14, CEMB—AMP
Chapter 13, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud…
Chapter 12, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 11, CEMB—-AMP
Chapter 10, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 9, CEMB-AMP
Chapter 8, AMP-CEMB
Chapter 7, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
Chapter 6, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 5, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud …
Chapter 4, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud
CHAPTER 3, CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

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OFF THE FUCKING SCALE UTILITY ASSAULTS AND COMPUTER HACKS, KIND SHERIFF SIR

December 16, 2015

the continuation of “The Epitome of Harrassament”

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

CHAPTER 35, AMP—–CEMB

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 35

AND HERE COMES ANOTHER MOTHER FUCKING FIRE ALARM, SHERIFF SIR, AT 11:19 ANTE’ MERIDIAN, HERE AT THIS PHA HELL-HOLE SHIT DIPPING FART-HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

National Outlook Video

What to do, and where they may possibly go, REAL WORLD, WOW Mister Shakespeare, what a question that would be, OR NOT BE, huh, YO???

DECEMBER 16, 2015,

LATE FRIDAY NIGHT AT 11:25,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 80 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-80/L-66).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 71%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 84.

WIND IS SSE AT 5, WITH A SMALL GUST TO 6.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

ORIGINAL TITLE MISSPELLINGS SHOWN HERE:

[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

MAGNESONIC:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEE

AND————-S—T—O—P!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANNY; SICK DISEASED OLD GRANNY!!!

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Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Chapter 34, Chris, Ed, and the Milituforce Blogaud

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 34

I no sooner started this fucking cunt eating blog, and poof, A MAJOR HACK CRASHED MY INTERNET EXPLORER AND MY WORD PROGRAM FROZE UP SIMULTANEOUSLY, SHERIFF MASCARA SIR, at 11:52 Post Meridian!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RED ALERT—-RED ALERT—-RED ALERT

MY MACHINE IS MAJOR BUGGED AND WORMED UP, AND IS ACTING REALLY FUCKED UP; SHERIFF SIR. MY CIVIL RIGHTS ARE BEING TRAMPLED ON, AND HANDED TO FUCKING ME BY MY TITS; AND BY WORTHLESS TOTAL FUCKING DIRT BAG TOILET WATER LAPPING SCUZ SUCKING FILTH-BAGS, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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This is a major fucking hacking job, SHERIFF, FBI, ACLU, GOVERNOR RICK SCOTT, CONGRESSMAN PAT MURPHY, and on top of this, my jerl off fuckign nabes from hell have been banging and slamming all dam day now, and are still going strong as I speak, at two minutes past mother fuckign dirt bag midnight, on Wednesday morning, 16 December, of 2015!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The fuckiGN dirtbag MILITUFORCE is striking me hard, Governor Scott, trying to covertly and stealthfully murder me, with death beams and death rays, such as we all have now seen as totally proven toi exist, the Tesla Technology, and used covertly in a black operations stealth program with majestic top secret fucking level clearance programs and projects, on those enemies who they hate, such as myself, who know to much,a n dare in with powers that go far beoyond the normal populous and realities of their planetary power and control, such as in my case the BRIGGBASE CULT OF THE PLANK REALM, and the mighty fuckign dirtbag MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES OF THE WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These mother fuckers just crashed me AGAIN, Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the report of this second fuckign crash, is being sent by MICROSOFT to the FBI, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have a real team of mother fuckiGN dirt bag total slime bucket diseased jerk off cock suckers on me tonight, folks, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! This is a legal DYING UTRTRERANCE AND DYING DECLARATION, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Where are you KIND SHERIFF, DAM IT???????????????

Where are you KIND ATTORNEY GENERAL BONDI???

Image result for sheriff ken j. mascaraMy PhotoAttorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi

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That night, watching those Star Trek shows, while living at 112 Harvard Avenue, Somerdale, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in 1996, in the autumn on the 30th Anniversary of their TELEVISION SHOW PRODUCTION LAUNCH; memories flooded in that I could not handle, leading to the wild dreams the following year of the Publishing Clearinghouse’s PCN-231 PRIZE-PATROL truck with that co-ed named K. J. McAllister, who won that January of 1997; and then the wild song that led to the 2012 production and 2013 Copyright of ”Wanna’ Spend My Time”, the fence at Eden’s great garden, and a lot more. This is when I was looking nearby the television set, little as it may have been mizz Britney Lavino, and Mister Stanley Crooked Bernstein; and as that great voted-number-1 episode of STAR TREK was airing, suddenly a voice kept saying while I was staring off of the TV set and onto my venetian blinds, “Sarah Kessle, Sarah Kessle”. All of these things are on my earlier parts of this now freaking ass ten year blog project that we all know as ‘MORIANITY’, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Later on, we can get to how the venetian blinds, the episode on the show called, ”THE TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES”, and a bit more, all brought me parsecs ahead of where I would have been ”spiritually”, if these events were not all LAWTRONICALLY PROGRAMMED to happen, and so, they did, Mister Pharaoh of all babbling’s, on and on and on; AKA Babylon, for shorter and abridged sayings, and codings, of all wild strange rhyming rhythms, in all parallel universes everywhere in the multiversal hyperspace, AKA the fifth dimension, Mizz Marilyn McCoo, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am thinking about mother fuckiGN running far away to Alaska very soon, since I have totally mother fuckiGN had it here, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ski the West

DECEMBER 16, 2015,

EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING AT 12:22,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 74 DEGREES FNHT.

TEMPERATURE RANGE YESTERDAY——-(H-84/L-64).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 91%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 78.

WIND IS SE AT 5, WITH GUSTS TO 10.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

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Whenever I have wild nocturnal fucking experiences, I always get a very major attack the next day by Milituforce-Briggbase scum sucking bastard rat ass pricks!!!!!!! This was no mother fuckign exception, kind folks out here. Also, my very fickle audience has left me again. It always happens when I am reporting the most major fucking shit in my life, too. This as I said, proves this indeed, as the name of the book ain’t shy about proclaiming, is a MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD!!!!!!!!!

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Labels: DYING DECLARATION, DYING UTTERANCES, MAJOR BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKING, NABES FROM HELL, ROTTEN ROACH NABES, VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL RIGHTS NOT TO BE PERSECUTED AND OPPRESSED

Professor Michio Kaku, of NYU, up there in the great state of New York, and all empires; if anyone gets this message to you, it will possibly lead to a true advancement in humankind over significant time, and I know this to be a fact, because of my own personal dam life’s experiences, sir. The study of the mind and its so-called illnesses is very valid on its face, despite having some powerful side effects to its main effect, as do all things when playing around with curing and treatment problems of the mind and the body. My quick point here, is that if you open up any book on the topic of psychology/psychiatry, you will see that if a patient were to tell his doctor anything about Quantum Physics, that patient will be exhibiting numerous psychosis’s and psychotic features; and there is no way that I am telling anything untrue here. I am giving it to you straight. You can prove it for yourself, Professor. But we both know that there are things that, despite people like me saying they are real, causes us to be labeled insane and crazy, and maybe some politer words. What you guys in the world of Quantum dynamics and Theoretical Physics need to do, is somehow have a third-party merge group, a combination and collusion of both you quantum guys and gals, with those familiar with psychiatry. This is a must, in order to truly help not only a lot of mentally needy people, in this nation, and around this globe, but it is vital in order to stop many things, or even to put a small dent into things, such as America’s very recent parabolicly exploding crime wave and gun violence. Take fuckiGN me for a prime terrific example here. No one into quantum dynamic truths can tell me, that these ten years that I have been blogging my now 61 year old story as the current me-life Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, is not REAL. Psych doctors will say that to me in a heartbeat however, and try to medicate me with tropic drugs that would fuck me up twenty times worse, and they cannot help people like me at all, many who eventually snap, and then pow, bang bang bang, a place gets all shot up. Even when I beg for help on blogs for ten straight years, I am ignored, sneered and jeered at, mocked, and figuratively spat upon by the world. Not one honest intelligent investigator can tell me I don’t have a real honest major story. They cannot deny my claims and my life. But even when letters are written to top people from these fairly important folks in their own right, they go ignored and unanswered, be it the letter to the Admiral by Congressman Andrew’s assistant’s, be it Ron Wirtz Senior at the Camden County Prosecutor’s Office trying to secure some real help for me, and this list could be typed on for hours on end, I promise you all. What needs to happen in all cases, is that experts must come together, study, and eventually agree on things, or else, forget it; just like if I tried to prove ICPE-APE-TECH in a court of law, and how Trump has used this against me, to catapult his life into what it is today, by a magical force that no one could ever fucking truly deny, yet I would not be legally permitted to introduce unaccepted by experts, evidence; such as this technology, and how it indeed is used against me, and probably even now; many others also, who are blinded by present day blissful willful ignorance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So my point here, Professor Kaku, from someone who appreciates your mind and intellect, and is one of your biggest fans from cable TV channels such as Science and History, and others; Public Broadcast, and on and on; is that only you will recognize my valid point here sir. Their needs to be a colluded group of a new discipline here, half psychiatric and half quantum physicist scientists. If this group, call them whatever you like, could ever gain expert status, I KNOW BEYOND ANY DOUBT, that I would be able to have a total cure in my life and its invisible cosmic problems that surround me, and are not some mentally ill delusion! Another problem however is the establishment, and the protection of the BIG SHOTS. I believe secretly for many reasons private to me, and between us; that the late disco diva Donna Summer, knew a little bit about these things, and I refuse to discuss this, unless someone wants to really help in all of this; but she called this, the “Mister Big Shot Syndrome”. You don’t need to know any more for right now, not you Professor, and not anyone reading these blogs. If I thought you needed to know, I’d dam tell. But yes, to make my point, in her MBS-SYNDROME idea, things will be hushed up if people have to KILL YOU, as you and me little peeps are always expendable, and some secrets must be there to protect the BIG SHOTS, which can translate to two items right off the bat, any large celebrity, or any super wealthy person, close to or in the Billionaire bracket!!!

Now, here is the rest of the wild experience that I can remember so far, that I did not blog on my previous fuckiGN blog, kind folks, YO!!!!

Numbers matter. I learned the only bad advice ever given to me, in 1970, by my Cooley Hall teacher at that time, Mister David Blackboards Smith; was when he told me that mathematics is very impersonal. How could he have known about me, in my future? I don’t blame him for one strike out in the game, and never ever would I expect a ‘perfect-game’, in my own personal baseball club, the Morianity-League, if you will, peeps, YO BRAH!!!

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In last night’s experience, I had a second less intense, but not that much fucking less, than my first one, sort of a part-2 of 2, and you know only about part 1, should you have read my blog chapter number 33 that preceded this one blog you’re now reading. In this experience from super hell, I was driving along some weird New Jersey highway in a parallel universe where this road was extremely unfamiliar with some basic shit that just would never happen here in this universe that I won’t bother you with the details about. Just to give you an idea what I mean however, you would never see a rowboat up in a tree, and that made into a home, with Halloween crap all over it twelve months a year, and the words ”tricky-teet-teet” all over the front porch, painted in human blood, and the local police all there having a cookout and talking about the next crime they are all going to commit. But in some parallel universes, things can get extremely wacky by our standards here in this one. This by no means that they are any less real than this one is, OR, that towel seepage effect cannot indeed occur when back here and awake, as a result of doing certain things OVER THERE!!!!!!!!

I got mother fuckiGN CRASHED AGAIN, FBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This occurred at 12:48 Ante’ Meridian!!!!!!!!!!

So here I am on this mother fucking strange highway, in a car I never drove in any world that I have any dam ass conscious recall about, and suddenly, it stopped and died, and I pulled over and realized that I had this problem for quite some time, and normally it would start if I kept trying, but this time it was finished. Along came a tow truck without me doing anything, and I told him where my local mechanic was, and it was someplace up in Jersey, but no place anywhere near resembling anything in this waking world universe, by any close definition, YO. I was suddenly in the front seat of the tow-truck, and the driver had driven me about three miles, and I was at my mechanics place, and yes, it is the same guy who I never ever knew existed, until I saw him in 2008 in that fucked up screwy place, where MC was telling me how much she loved being who she was, but that there was one problem that she wanted to talk to me about, imagine that? Then it was not until around twenty-eleven, when I saw the WFMU web-page with that screwy looking asshole who was supposed to be me, in what I called MY HATE PAGE!

Mark_from_nj

This mechanic was the one who beat me up in that parallel world where he demanded money and I did not have enough to pay him after he had finished a repair job on my vehicle, and my parents had some weird magic carpet they rode around in. Now in this parallel world, he was in a totally different location, the north Cherry Hill, New Jersey area, and the shop he had was huge and strange, and he acted nice, but then suddenly said to me, an dI won’t forget this shit if I live to be one hundred and ninety three. He said, that will be seven hundred and forty dollars and thirty four cents. As he said it, he handed me the bill. I almost fell down, expecting the work to be maybe two bucks, MAYBWE, an d I hoped I could skate by for closer to $150.00. When I told him I only had a little less than $300.00 in my bank and no credit cards, just my dam debit card, he reminded me of all of the repair jobs he had done for me, even the one for many thousands, that many of my blog followers know all about as well. Suddenly I remembered who he was, and that I was in a parallel universes, inside of my double-me, dreaming; and so far, just the recessant in the experience, and not the dominate, hence I was being a regular or normal dreamer, AKA a TYPE-1-Exploratron. We are all T-1-E every time we sleep, and some live lifetimes with no conscious recall to any of their hyperspace adventures, while yet a few others, have learned how to become advanced-dreamers, T-2-E and even eventually T-3-E and joining up with the ESS (Exploratronic Supermind Society)!!!!!!!!!!!! I kn ow that MC knows about all of this, and is just being mean and stubborn, keeping this all to herself. But what can I do, Mama and Papa Cass, of the Choking Ham Sandwiches?

Now the price of this repair work ended in 34 cents, as in the 34-Macy Bunch. There was even more to this experience. Some remember how in yet another parallel world, I was the Regional Manager in my area in 1984, in Cinnaminson, New Jersey, while living on Highland Avenue in a rental home owned by Mister Patterson. I really was living there, here in this universe. But while there, I fell asleep one night and began to have this gods awful major vivid experience where I was working in this position, for the Estee-Lauder Company, the fragrance people. We all know, or fans anyway, that MC is also into fragrances, and had those ad-spots running on TV, earlier this century, with my Cousin Donald and Martha Stewart, advertising their fragrance products, at the Macy Store, in NYC, at 34th Street. I never had put any of these unmistakable towel-seepage connections all together, until very recently, but now, in addition to all of this, comes last night’s incredible dreaming-experience, YO!!!

Then comes the 740 dollars, before the 34 cents. I cannot help noticing the mathematical-numerological connections to the number price of this mechanic’s bill, you know, as in 74 or 7-4, you know, as in July 4.

AFTER MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3

‘ZIGGY, ZIGGY HELLO’; ALL AMERICAN NETWORKS!!!

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We all love FIREFOX. Well I do, but I sure wish this mother freaking automated mechanized robotized inhuman society would help people who are in their freaking sixties. Ever since I did one little thing on my blog, using the FIREFOX BROWSER, simply trying to leave a comment on my own blog, at the BLIGGER-DOT-COM site, the cookies got goddess dam disabled somehow, and I can no longer blog on this browser, until I can get my dam guru over here; and that is a very expensive proposition, AND IT JUST IS NOT DAM ASS FAIR, YO! This world is fixed and prejudiced against older people, who have no family support, or anyone in their dam ass lives to assist them, and it should be totally frikkin’ illegal; Congressman Pat Murphy sir, and Governor Rick Scott, sir!!!!!!!!

NO FOLKS, THIS IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT

MEGAHELL ON STEROIDS, CHAPTER 0000,

but it looks so dam pretty here,

that I am going to paste it in, YO!

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**(((((]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[)))))**

>>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]][[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[>>

KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL ® 1980

MARK WAYNE MOHR

PINK GODDESSES

MORNING LIGHTS

DESTRUCT SWITCHES

GARY MITCHELLS

AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM SHATNER KIRKS

CHRIS, ED, AND THE MILITUFORCE BLOGAUD

CHAPTER 33

DECEMBER 15, 2015,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON, AT 4:18,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.

CURRENT TEMPERATURE IS 81 DEGREES FNHT.

RANGE TODAY——-(H-84/L-64).

RELATIVE HUMIDITY IS 79%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 87.

WIND IS AT A STEADY-SE, AT 10.

TOTAL RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES—0.

IT WAS FEELING JUST UP AT 90, OR MAYBE ONE DEGREE SHY, BACK AN HOUR AGO. THE SUN WILL BE DOWN IN A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR, AND THEN TEMPS WILL DROP A BIT. WHAT WON’T DROP IS MY AMAZEMENT TO WHAT HAPPENED TO ME SHORTLY AS THIS MORNING ARRIVED, AND I WAS IN BED!!!!!

I had an uninduced astral-projection, shortly after I went back to bed, right shy of the dam opening bell on Wall Street. At 9:25, I awakened from another horrible gods dam charlie house attack on my left calf, that was quite dam ass excruciating, and agonizing. What did the man say to his wife, after she stabbed him for cheating on her? ”Dam it honey cakes, the word pain just doesn’t CUT IT”! I hope the debates tonight have a little humor too. Otherwise, this entire fuckign shit is starting to totally dam depress me. How about all of you, YO?

Aunt Alice Gallagher, of Chicago, Illinois; I’ll bet that you never had any uninduced projections out of body, until hubby-dear took the old 1986 to you, back in February of 1948, up there in Braintree, Mass, USA!!! Well, unlike you, oh great Aunt Alice, YO; Latengrate as you may be; I DID HAVE A WILD EXPERIENCE AGAIN, last night or early this morning, or as Bob Andrews said back in 1975 before he sang my SPIRIT PEACE song in Pileggi’s Haddon Township, New Jersey, basement; “WHATEVER”!!!!!!!!!!!

Well; without going on about it and getting right to the dam heart of the matter, kind folks out here; the trustworthy and notorious illustrious United States Library Of Congress Copyright Office, back in the summer time in the year of 1980, as well as Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb, of the great world famous superstar Gibb Brothers BEEGEE music assholes; and their theft of my pal Tom Glenn’s arrangement, on my LOST LOVE SONG; yes sir/ yes ma’am; all totally fits together in things so huge that if the smallest part of it was altered somehow in a massive T-3-E hyper-space-equation (HSE); you’d never believe how the entire planet would have evolved since 1980, and the way it is now in late 2015; would be nothing like it would have been if I had just never worked at that RPL Sound Studio, or copyrighted any of those dam four 1980 demo tunes! Believe me, don’t believe me, from here, to James Patterson’s Chris-Cross, and Christ’s death Cross; as your belief in my creditability and honesty or for that matter, Listener-Theresa, my sanity; has nothing to do with the pure and simple mathematics of everything involved here. Oh yes, there are countless major unfathomable things to be said about me as well as my interactive life in and surrounding Atlantic City, New Jersey, USA; BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, I learned around the time that I was writing my blog about a year, that I am already in this family of great washcloths; long before I was brought further into it, during a summer time act of passion, underneath the Central Pier, of Atlantic City, USA, ES-MWG!!!!!

It began with the dam charlie horse and me on the floor practically screaming in fucking painful anti-bliss, in its absolute epitomized form, for those science fiction buffs out there who are fascinated with warp drive star ships and antimatter and those similarities such as these. I climbed back into bed and within a minute, despite my calf leg hurting like a kicked little kitten, I was dead-to-the-world. What seemed like maybe no time at all to the tiniest little bit of it, a knock came on the door. I had totally forgotten this entire thing that I am about to tell on this blog, until while watching an old rerun on cable television, from the great western, called, “Gunsmoke”, and heard ‘Mister Festis’, discussing working for some fellow, so as he could make ten dollars and the dude said he would pay him a dollar a day, and feed him well; if that is at the end of the day he was still able to eat after the man worked him half to death. This began to bring forth some memories of me telling my old beach-pal, Mister Sigmund Malyeska (Ziggy) as I called him, and so did everyone else on the Atlantic City beaches, back in the sixties, and into early seventies; that Tom Reale was paying me ten dollars a day, and Ziggy kept repeating to me in a very shocked sounding tone of voice, “Ten dollars a day”? He thought that was quite the overly exuberant amount of wages to pay a fifteen year old, along with his meals, and housing. Of course, Tom Reale claimed to hire me as a plumber’s Assistant, and to quote David Roth who later was told this dirty little story, a decade and a half after the fact, “The only plumbing that he was interested in, Mark, was your plumbing”. He was totally correct!!!!!!!!!

So a knock comes on my door, only I’d totally forgotten the entire deal. Many of you who are avid and vivid dreamers out here, know what is being discussed here, in so far as dreaming, then forgetting it completely, and then some event happens during the course of the day and in some instances even days later, and this goes onto TRIGGER the memory OF THAT DREAMING-INTERACTION EXPERIENCE. I opened the door and remember being barely able to walk and being so tired and drowsy, it was if I had been drugged with a high dosage of barbiturates. Anyone can force themselves to awaken if a loud banging knock comes at your door, only I was barely able to half stand and open the door, and as I did so, several maintenance men were out in the hall, and it is so fuckiGN real, that I would not be able to swear in a dam court of law that it didn’t really happen shortly after my charlie horse, that I had gotten, and then returned back into sleep again. It was that real!!!!!!!!

Then here is where shit gets really GOUUUUUUD, to quote my girlfriend Helen Zebriski, back in 1999, when she was referring to my huge fracture bruise, on my right dam arm, after her friend Keisha, the girl who had just turned age 14 years, and was quite a giant and extremely muscular, as well as red hot beyond monster ass hot; had given me a really mind bending play-punch, that you could hear both the bone crushing fracture sound, as well as the unholy ‘loud poof sound’, and Helen then went onto say later on, while looking at the huge spot on my arm; “Oh Mark, she got you GOUUUUUUUUUUD”!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now back to the door here at my apartment, and at this Public Housing Building, known locally around town here, as the PARK TERRACE. There were about three maintenance peeps, and one just entered without saying a word, and then once inside, he turned back to me, barely able to stand up and keep my eyes open which I have a totally major distinct recollection of now once the memories all returned after watching that part of that GUNSMOKE TV-SHOW, and as he turned, he jabbed me with a hypodermic needle, and then I completely passed out and remember him catching me, picking me up, and placing me onto my bed. Then I somehow knew all of them were inside my place, and I could hear on some level of awareness, them all speaking to each other for quite some time. I was not however able to get any actual gist of what the conversation was all about, or why they had done this to me, in the first place.

The harder I tried to wake myself up, the more energy I seemed to be expending, and causing me the very opposite effect to what I was attempting to accomplish. Then poof, no busted arm from gorgeous young teen girls, BUTTTTTTT I was completely asleep, only I was anything but, and found myself in Cooley Hall, back just a day or two before the Christmas vacation break of 1972, and a month before my final days there, in late January of 1973. I was in the coaches locker area in the gymnasium there, and I seemed to be forced to walk into his secret closet area, and use his D.E. Device that I used to dream about was in there, ever since the nineteen-seventies came in. I activated it with a big square red knob that I pushed instinctively. Suddenly I saw two horizontal bright black lines in front of me, one at my toes, and the other about thirty inches beyond my toes, but parallel to the first line, and these lines were about three feet or maybe a little bit more in width and about an inch thick, both in height dimension as well as out. A voice told me to jump across from the first line to the second line, and the command kept repeating, and growing louder until I eventually did just that. Instantly I found myself in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Jerry Heitzmann my old pal from Cooley Hall was with me, and it was now a year earlier, in 1971 and back in the middle summer time, somewhere early in July. He didn’t actually arrive until I got onto Tennessee Avenue. I was taken directly to the upstairs rooms of Sarah Krassle’s shop, by this D. E. system, in the coaches locker area, (Distance-Elimination). It somehow places a magnetic field of controlled velocitrons and zeetrons that are smaller than plank reality and yet larger than the void infinity, and that are responsible for the dreaming out and away from that void into the plank,and then into hyperspace. Ever since I began typing this blog, just about, MY FUCKIGN NABES FROM HELL, have not stopped slamming doors out in th edam fuckign hallway, MIZZ MARATTO, Resident Manager, YO! Obviously, as the great game of GTNOTG indeed dictates, one must realize that explorations are not only inside of my computer machine system,but then they try and discourage me from typing and doing these blogs, whenever I discuss certain MAJESTIC LEVEL TOP SECRET INFORMATION STUFF; and so they enter into my nabes from fucking hell, and make them slam and slam and slam and slam, kind SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, after Jerry was spotted; I then came to realize in the experience, that I was blocking another huge fuckiGN memory, and this is what these TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONIC indwelt nabes, and now successfully GUESSED-GUESTS; are trying to interfere, and prevent, me from telling about and blogging this wild information.

Before I tell the experience here, kind people; you need to understand that I really had this happen to me, and I had forgotten it. I had been assaulted, and so had poor Jerry Heitzmann; by the great PAULA-PATTY KING; and I had just assumed for a short while, before blocking out the entire memory all together; that those two boys who looked similar to classmates that I had back at Cooley Hall, in David Leigh Smith’s class, Harry Vogel and Eddie Boemeister; that Jerry and I had encountered a short time earlier on the boardwalk, about a quarter mile or less south of Tennessee Avenue, were the ones who had knocked us around. It wasn’t. It was big PP-KING. She busted some teeth in Jerry’s mouth, and hit me so hard that my mind and brain had been effected, and my memories were jumbled and lost, all this time, from 1971 in July, until this very early day here on December the fifteenth, in 2015. There is a lot more to tell, as it involves a lot of powerful known people, and now it no longer is a mystery how the WAYV radio people all know Mister Regis Philbin, as he is also a lot more than he purports to be, whether he even knows or remembers being an active engaging part of this or not, when he is not indwelt; and not a part of of the GUESSED-GUESTS, of the great unholy and evil Briggbase-controlled and operated, EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!

You know for all I care, you can imprison me in some huge scary fuckiGN looking lighthouse, or your dam water company, oh great pink goddess on Earth; BUTTTTTTTTT, I’ll always love you to death, my white-hot teen queen Jehovah, no matter what you keep doing to your poor old defenseless little helpless pathetic THAT-BOY, YO!

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[ 20 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Apitamy of harrasment [sic] : pt. two.

PAu001148157

1988

[ 21 ]

Mohr, Mark Wayne, 1954-

Epitamy of harassement [sic] : pt. 3.

PAu001189027

1989

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UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!

Last night, folks, I had powerful dreams that Sarah was taking her long light brown hair, and dangling it all over my face, the way I love her to do so very much. She told me that “I am THAT-BOY, and always will be, that SHE is the great I AM, and will never ever go away and leave me”. Hey, I guess no matter how many times Cuzz McGuire damages my car, or Nick for that matter; SHE is not ever going to stop loving me in eternity, in HER great city, SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. So go and choke on that one; Cifaloglio-Harvest Darius Deezy, and Mister T3E Cannon, YO!!!!!!!

The great PINK-GODDESS of STAR TREK; gee, just what is going on? First, as I stated; I come right out and openly tell that I do not believe that the creators of STAR TREK were totally from here in this universe. I believe that in a parallel universe, doubles (doppelgangers) of them such as Mister Roddenberry, became what Morianity refers to as TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS. Simply put, the more advanced doubles of the people, who we know here, only as THEM, and not them plus their controlling-double who is asleep physically from their parallel universe and dream-controlling their double here, so that they will do something or not do something, or whatever the case may be, that is behind most if not all ‘T3E’ activity. So why then does Roddenberry and the Trek Peeps, create not only this show, and all of the great spin off shows and movies that followed? The only possible thing that could hope to answer, is that a huge army of the fifth dimension uses this jack-in gamer simulation we call the cosmos, to play a wild game. Like hyper-WOW, Mister R. H. Macy, sir!!!!!

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END TRANSMISSION!

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Labels: DYING UTTERANCES, EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY, guess the name of the guests, MAJOR BLACK HAT COMPUTER HACKING, NABES FROM HELL, Pink Goddess RULES, PUBLIC HOUSING SUCKS

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Mountainpen’s Blog

CHAPTER 27, GTNOTG FROM PH-DAY OF 1996-(12/07/96)

DEATH DEATH DEATH HACK HACK HACK FBI FBI FBI

FBI, I NEED YOU TO LOG ONTO MY COMPUTER, I HAVE AN ILLEGAL HACKER

DO ALL SAVANTS KNOW WHEN IT IS THE END?

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER ELEVEN

SUPPLEMENTAL BLOG ENTRY OF 12-19-2015

GUESS THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, OUT THERE IN TIME-DELAY NETFUTURE

THE OLD REDACT-HACK, SHERIFF MASCARA, SIR

MONSTER DEATH PERSECUTION OF THE MOUNTAINPEN

OFF THE FUCKING SCALE UTILITY ASSAULTS AND COMPUTER HACKS, KIND SHERIFF SIR

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