SIEGE SIEGE SIEGE BY MC-BC

Siege, siege, siege by MC-BC/Blog-Book.
TEOHIV/TIMCAM, datfile 061208.555.55
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Well, this morning again in Cranberryville was filled with the evil Lambrigg Cultists and their wicked MISTS, where they derive their cult name in the great French language, LAMIST, or the mist, the CHEM-TRAILS. Every time U drive, or me really, anywhere near the 177th AIR-FIGHTER_TACTITAL-WING, in Pomona, HJUSAESMWG, and it is bad and a super siege day, loud crash level jets and fighters come right at U on the road, yet when it is not a really horrendous siege day, they do not, and this is 100% precision clockwork science, bwaby-wuv. When I played professional roulette in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG from April through October of the misery-hell-year-1986, they would dive bomb me directly over the trees almost causing an accident on several occasions, but that’s cool, my civil and CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS do not matter one whittle bitchin’ bit, do-day? I told U all, the PHILLIES BASEBALL CLUB WILL CONTINUE LOSING AND LOSING AND LOSING AND LOSING, just as long as they endlessly have me 2 pick the cripe on. They will go on this losing string and B right out of first place. They will lose and lose over and over, because not one Lawtron-counterpart [soul] will take me seriously and ever lift a freaking fingernail 2 help me and 2 get this wicked demonic crapola ceased. Don’t believe a thing I say, who cares? U will once they no longer have me 2 pull wings off of and pinch and tear limbs off. When I finally am all gone, think rationally about this, I double Dogtown dare U all, who then R they gonna have 2 truck and mess with? U won’t like the only logical conclusion that any honest deductive reasoning will arrive at, ALL OF U!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh yes, the great 6th dimension, the key that holds all the truths that mankind has ever sought after since his inception. It is a room filled with 12 elevators, 3 of them together on all 4 walls of this room with no doors or windows. The floor is a tile typed appearance most of the time with bright patterns that never remain the same of the bi-colors of jet black and bright purple. The ceiling is a swirling mass of gaseous appearing something that never can B known about, other than U cannot breathe it nor get past and through it. Gawky Gaukauk the huge panther mystic guru on the Astral Plane at the famous to the Olympian Province, Teck Bay Mystery School, and my very close friend 4 literally vigintillions of astral eons, [agreed-upon-interactiveness], yeah we go way back Irene, beyond forever and fame and heaven itself, and he told me that if U take the tiles up from the floor and dig below about a foot of hard wet type of sand, U will just end up coming through from above, out of the ethers of the ceiling. The only way into or out of this mighty elevator room is by hailing one of the [12] elevators, and after the doors to it shut, manipulate the control panel which consists of funny looking averaged sized rectangular buttons, two of them next to each other, in three rows down, or a total of six buttons. The top ones R4 up and down traveling in these elevators, and the middle set below the top R4 traveling left and right in these elevators, and the bottom set is 4 traveling forward and backward in these elevators. All 12 of the elevators have these 6 rectangular buttons and they all R perfectly and similarly arranged. They R all on the left side front of the car-box and about 40 inches off of the ground. However, this concept is what people living in a physical world with its memories somewhat in tact while in the 6th dimension that have elevators in their lives and world. Should a Navaho Indian experience reaching D-6, it would B more like a clearing in a forest with 3 braves on mighty horses on all 4 sides of the clearing, waiting 2 take a rider. The very first time this experience occurred, I dismissed it as me sitting 2 close to a hippie and his hippie girlfriend at the Schiff Central Pier in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, smoking some hyper-dope. We were on a ride recently built called the SKYTOWER. Ask any lifelong Atlantic City resident that isn’t a child of 45 or under, and they will clearly remember this cool Skytower, it really meant, Skylla’s Tower. It went up and down and spun all around so that a rider of this amusement park machine could get a full 360 degree panoramic view of far out 2C as well as the entire City of Atlantic City, and the surrounding nearby inlands. All of a sudden while riding it on one of the first couple of days in July of 1970, around 8 or so in the evening, this weird hippie couple smirked at me and simultaneously blew a puff of whatever they were smoking at me, and instantly I found myself no longer on the Skytower high up in the air, orbiting around and watching the City that I still loved so much at the time. Instantly I was simply not there, and was standing and not sitting. A room was just there all around me, and it contained these 12 elevators. I pushed a button at one of them, and the room is perfectly balanced and none of them R numbered, so U never know one from another, other than if it is the middle or left or right one on any of the 4 sides. I began playing with the 6 controls, moving up and across and down and across and forward and up sand backward and down, and when I quit playing, I noticed that the doors were still closed, and there was no normal DOOR OPEN or DOOR CLOSE elevator button. However, within what seemed 2 me 2B maybe 20 seconds of mortal world time, the doors slowly opened smoothly and deathly quietly. I quickly exited, jumped out would perhaps more adequately describe it. The second that the elevator doors quietly shut behind me, the room of 12 elevators instantly vanished and I found myself under the pier where the Skytower amusement ride was on. Someone had just finished reading a weird newspaper like nothing that I had ever seen or fathomed. He walked away winking at me and I for whatever reason felt absolutely compelled 2 pick up this mans newspaper. The print would move and change and faces of people in the paper would interact with the viewer, smiling or frowning back should U do likewise first. I turned and leafed through several pages, remembering the headline 2 this very day, and it read, “Mile-High Coaster Ride Completed Today in Wildwood”. It said that a huge 40 mile ling track that peaked over 5500 feet in the air was just finished after 8 years of construction, and went on to talk about this being now the greatest roller coaster ride on the planet, usually, this word was not used, people all then just said world or the Earth. It had a picture of it and said to ‘tap-here‘, right where a bright bluish yellow square appeared in the paper. I taped on it with my finger and instantly I was standing directly at the entrance gate 4 this fantastic outlandish and beyond surreal looking ride. I asked what it would cost as no sign was there, just a long line of patrons awaiting 2B the first on the MILE-HIGH-COASTER-RIDE. The dude after I insisted on knowing the fare for the ride, finally said 2 me that he had no clue what I was talking the hell about and that he didn’t give a sqooks either, just get in line, and so I did. The line was enormous, but the system fitted 1000 riders at a time, and lasted roughly a half hour tops. People in the group ahead of me and next up 4 the tide were saying things I could not understand, yet today, some of it makes sense, such as dot com this and jegpeg that and online this and download that. Clocks were weird as hell also. They had a big blue line that went across and a thinner red line under it that also went across, and numbers from 1 through 12 were at the top along a row, with flashing singing squares all around it changing and advertising things. One ad caught my eye as it had my full name on it, MARK WAYNE MOHR. It went on to read, dies at the age of 76, the man recognized shortly B4 his death for the reflectional time experiments conducted by the Labfrance System. I never took the ride, but instead attempted 2 buy a newspaper there in Wildwood, only 2 learn, they were all free. So later I was able 2 put together was the amusement ride at Moreys Pier. Things did not seem 2 cost anything. I got my newspaper and searched 4 any reference 2 the death of, me? There it was on page 4, a full page article, with tap here to learn this or tap there to visit that, and always bluish-yellow square boxes. I tapped on a box that made reference to a car called a SATURN that I bought back in 1994, only what is this back stuff, it is 1970 now I was thinking. Then I looked at the date on the newspaper and thought I was gonna drop dead of a heart attack, it was THURSDAY, JULY 3RD, 2031. It seemed that my death had occurred 2 weeks ago back in the middle of June. I tapped on the box about my purchasing a Saturn Automobile in 1994, and suddenly found myself in it and driving it, only the gods only knew how all of this was possible. I did not know how 2 drive and did my best to pull over at a place I was familiar with, the Haddon Township High School, in Westmont, NJUSAESMWG, next door to the world renown Haddonfield and the King George Highway. I got out and suddenly two nasty black dudes told me 2 hand over the newspaper and that I belonged in 1996 and not here in 1968. My mind was blown to the shit-gods now and knew I needed the paper that I had wrapped up or 4-way force folded into a small sort of a shoe box with masking tape 2 hold the lid firmly and securely onto the box. They got it away from me and told me things that I only now remember today, as last night, I had a major interaction upon taking GODDESS DIANA ARTEEMIS to a lovely tall waterfall near one of her numerous cabins built by her and many of her closest friends, and suddenly dreamshift caused me 2B right back on the Skytower that I indeed was on the mortal world and year of 1970. I was told that my queen wanted me to remember that I did not go back from Highview Apartments as I thought through time and mortal illusion that I had, but instead, that these 2 hippie kids on the Skytower ride were from a far away place, asleep in their own dream exploratronically. These kids in their own waking dimension grew up 2B very close friends of the disco queen, DS, and that they remembered me and knew that if they could entrap me, they could B the first controllers over the Millionth Council, only it didn’t work, as the great SSJKK returned after 1970 as the good MC, and secretly works 2 thwart these evil Briggbase Lambrigger Cultists. She even infiltrated my school, next to Haddonfield High, at the Cooley Hall, at the age of only 2 and a half, but she can do anything, right down 2 coming to me as a lovely long haired giant beautiful 22 year old rehab student. One day she saw me struggling with a movie projector that my teacher told me to carry to the opposite end of Cooley Hall, this thing, an ancient Bell and Howell, had 2 weigh in at more than 50 pounds. She took it out of my weak tiny flabby struggling arms, and with one finger, easily took it to where I told her that my teacher told me 2 take it. Then she said 2 me that there R 3 magic places all in a triangle, one in Atlantic City where U know and go, one in Camden where U will work someday, and one right here behind the coaches private locker in the school’s gymnasium.
There is always so very much more 2 tell, and I will, all about the 5th, 6th, 7th, and yes, the adult playground rage cause, the 8th dimensions. 4 right now, thank U my wonderful queen 4 being there 4 me all through my times of turmoil and torment. I will do anything 4U, and am seriously now looking into good schools 4 computer courses, so that I will B a better agent 4U in fulfilling your desires 4 me and my life’s mission that U have sent me on. Yes, IWALU times infinity, signed, your THAT BOY from Sahasra Dal Kanwal.

Google, googolplex and whatever Congy, U sang those songs great, U don’t have 2 run away from your record, old buddy.

Copyright Michael W. Mountainpen, this is all the truth, and if anything happens 2 me, I was murdered by all the evil persons listed on my 5 blogs through the great Blogger dot com.

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