MMLJ #6

“LIFE JOURNAL OF MARK MOHR, BLOG #6”
Thursday afternoon, 12:51 PM, on July 30th, 2K9
Start of the blog:


This has been the most horrible mother fucking day in my mother fucking life. It began with seeing Jane Dirtweeds last night, and it goes on and on with me seeing Jane Dirtweeds, right up through 2 hours ago, and most likely will happen again in a few minutes time.

The Dow Jones will B up at least 400 and maybe go up as high as 1600 points today, closing near ten thousand. There is no way this will not happen. First, I backed up AGAIN, into Chicky’s stupid fucking old red truck, I am not used 2 living with a family, I have been alone all my life or with my mother, this is just am intolerable mother fucking situation. This time, Dawn insists on going through my insurance 2 fix both vehicles even though with the people that we know it all could B done 4 a couple hundred dollars and I have that much socked away. Hopefully I have and I think I do, the accident forgiveness clause with my auto insurance 4 my first accident, and it will B my first, even though it did not occur on the street, but with my own 2 vehicles and my own driveway, excuse me, KING QUEEN DAWN’s driveway, and vehicles, that she has commandeered. I only wish that all of this was taking place in 1997. I thought I had it real bad and so gods awful bad in the nineties, NO FUCKING COMPARISON, BRO!!!!!!!! None of this should even B happening. I should B in my own little place living my own little fucking life, not doing all the shit I am expected 2 from morning till night. I am on a mental disability and living with a deranged maniac lunatic who cared care totally fucking less about any of my serious medical and emotional problems, this super fucking dysfunctional clan is all out 4 them, this is the way it has always been since this stated with them and me, back all the fucking way into the middle and late nineteen- freaking sixties. I plan 2 sue the entire medical establishment 4 mufti-millions someday. I asked 4 help, I asked 2B removed from this domestic nightmare, and they just let me rot in fucking hell.

Then I got fucking screwed looking right at the car radio clock at fucking eleven-eleven in the parking lot in Atlantic City where I took Dawn and Ann and Marcus so that Marcus could get an evaluation since his stabbing injuries from a couple weeks ago. As soon as I did if memory is serving me, it could b in a reverse order, in fact now I am thinking about it from a slightly clearer head, it was 3 minutes shy of this B4 we all climbed into the car and I started itr up. A zenithing nasty military attack fighter jet got me. Then driving out of town and into Absecon, 2 huge military bombers flew at treetop level, making an approach 4 their landing at the base, the 177th Airborne division of the Air Force, located in Pomona, NJUSAESMWG. Life up here 12 years from the ending of my life journal, is so far beyond monstrously indescribable, despicable, and inconceivable, that just trying 2 adequately find proper diction 4 writing and blogging it would require volumes of encyclopedias, BRA!!!!!!! I am gonna shut my mother fucking eyes now 4 a 3 or 4 minutes and pray 2 the fucking gods in hell that I do not C Miss Fonda-disease-sleaze again in 2 minutes. 4 the total fucking hell I am going through pussy cats should B climbing all over me like worms through rich top soil, only, no deal. I gave the explanation, it is indeed as a seasonal reality. I have lived a very long time, and summer romances 4 most women, R pretty much divided in half with one group staying in the relationship throughout the summer,. While the other group has a break up and usually 4 whatever the reasons this seems most frequently 2 occur just as August comes in. This is the last thing on my mind, I could totally care less other than now 4 two reasons, it is and always has been a potential weapon that theoretically can B used against my enemies in a huge hyper time major way, and now with recent ETTOS becoming no longer a theory but in my mind, a set in Moses tablet stone reality, I need 2 try testing some ANTI-ETTOS ideas that I am secretly working on, some were around nearer 2 the turn of the century, but I never got around 2 trying them, and I of course cannot use some of them now that I no longer live alone and am free any more 2 live my own life and do what I want. That 4 now is all over unless I can break my small mass equals blahhhhhh bleeee blummmm monkey, and run off, leaving behind the few things that mean a very lot 2 me, and yes, Buddhists, R grounding me 3 the material realm. Discussing the mighty and evil ETTOS and the E-4 part that is all found explained and discussed back in the MORIANITY BIBLE-2, this is being used on me with horrendous mother fucking evil effectiveness since running into Ed Himacane and Dawn and Ann and now stuck in an inescapable way with this family of serpent snakes, as I did not pay attention 2 the song warnings of the Haddonwood years, and B enlightened enough, in time, yo, 2 avoid all this once I started 2C it all coming at me like a run fucking away freight train, BRO. It is as though I am 95 years old, mentally, but only happens when I an with these jerk fucking off people. They make me forget everything and the mission and motive is as obvious as the funny face on a clown, mizz Fargo. Dawn has no patience with anyone, and is a living nightmare. Back in the MORIANITY project blogged and not on tape, 2 years ago or so give or take, my mom appeared 2 fucking me a vivid dream and warned me in a Dollar Store where I was with Ann and Dawn, in this powerful interactive experience. She told me 2 get far away and fast, sand I dismissed it like I dismissed LOIS FOCA, and the proper state 2 but a straight and boxed lottery number, I bought in the wrong state and ignored the box part, and it is all on the record and all over the internet and the copyright office by now, BRA. And not a “Diller a dollar the ten o’clock scholar arriving now at noon” store, the DOLLAR STORE, Mildred B Young of the late autumn of 1972, but how I remember coming into her class later and later and how she would recite this 2 me. Rog, what don’t me and your powerful cuz have in common other than a lot less monkey on my back, yet still way 2 much 2 escape her mighty plan, or Lester’s in all fairness 2 her. Still systems failure pal, how can she remain out of the picture entirely when as U pit it, she sort of needs 2 keep the Williamstown giant cop attitude, and is 2 afraid 2 totally believe all this on an awake level. Oh well, believing and knowing R huge things that this life journal will B exploring as this hell keeps getting made worse 4 me. I am about 2 tell mother fucking secrets 2 the planet so huge, that one day, I know I will find myself with the title of FIRST HUMAN BANNED FROM INTERNET BLOGGING, BY LAW, don’t fucking laugh everybody, remember the China earthquake and the World Series parade, and the 6-9 room nightmare residence, and on and on and on, BRO! I always knew that MARcucci, MARolla, Miss MARie, and her mighty camel and diner down Kings Highway a mile from school, was all just 2 wild, weird and nut job squared 2 all B just some silly stupid coincidence, and so does Jimmy Stuart. The problem here with that is that these fucking bastard enemies on top of all else, just put a scum bag JIMMY with a scuz bucket tire on the back, right in front of me, and where else, the local 13th Street Comcast Cable Building, where the great Queen Mayan and her blue symbolic car is parked there every day during regular freaking business hours with the tag of New Jersey JNR-10P, her age until this September 29th, my younger daughter that is, but then my special ed school and the period from 1969 until the end of January of 1973 and my destruction in Haddonfield is all there 4 another set of days and weeks 2 unfold these powerful truths and disastrous freaking nightmares. I suppose I was 2 unenlightened 2 pay any attention 30 years later 2 what my older daughter not yet born indirectly messaged me in lyrical content in the DON’T HIDE U CAN’T HIDE year. Somehow this sentence was poofed off and removed along with all of the next paragraph that now must B fucking re-typed in.

I just typed an entire paragraph telling my lightning how wonderful she was 4 coming around me here in Berryville yesterday afternoon and as I was motherfucking typing away, the entire paragraph was poof-hacked off and vanished. I was saying how much I love U my lightning, and always will. IWALU, baby blond DZA, my endless TEEN-QUEEN. I will CU at the waterfalls later on Diana, in the mean time, please tell my special daut P Junior-10, not 2 take any wooden nickels, or any bull shirts off of Julie Nichols, oh well, when I tell the entire thing, the entire story, this world won’t know whether 2 sit up and fucking belch out a volcano the size of the Pacific Ocean or just roll over and play dead and hope that I will go away. But that will not happen. From a foreign shore, I will put streaming A/V through my own website and verify my entire story. Keep fucking using this major ETTOS-4 on me U diseased sick bitches, and I will kick your asses personally if I have 2 freaking retrace U all someday, cage U, and put U all through Dogtown type pinball gagged glass machines while U get spun in and bounce around until all that B seen is blood and gore. Think this is funny do U mother truckers, when I am, done with your asses, the gods won’t mother fletchen recognize U let alone your nasty ugly moms.

END OF BLOG #6.