KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077

KINGNEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-077-022011.624.55555555—SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON
SUBTITIE: THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME----
SUBTITLE: THE EOITOME OF HARASSMENT,
INTERNET VERSION----
EXTRA ST: 'THE INVISIBLE POWERFUL DIABOLIS CALLIO'

BEGINNING TRANS-MI-SSION:

The entire 5-6 years of my blogging-career tells a major story that speaks for itself, and if the word AUTIOMATIC was ever invented for any one thing in this freaking world, it would have to be to describe that fact. This is a fact, no different than what one plus one has always equaled, and that it is just under eighty degrees now here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol. Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG), If anybody wants to really attempt to disprove this all mighty freaking story, I challenge anyone to try really freaking doing it, simply begin at any place, read both backward, or forward, from there, and realize that not even Einstein could do all of this and make up a hoax of this freaking ass magnitude, it even outdoes the hilarious Bruce and his cussing party, along with Joshua the synthesizer playing son of his, all listed under the (MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY), 'internet-hate-page' created by the great ('DJ DONNA SUMMER'), yes Donna was really out to get me Detective “DANIELS” of L&O, ONE WAY OR THE SWIFFER MOP OTHER, after-all, and WOW, 'that symbolism thing' again, U GOTTA FUCKING LOVE IT, HUH PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah Bruce, you and me know how to get angry at this old world, and since my entire home theater system and computer is all hooked together, I can download in analogue, and early this morning before retiring to my bed, I placed both your rantings, and mine from the early Bill Clinton years, onto a cassette tape for me to enjoy a laugh in the car when I feel like I need one; and usually this is all of the mother freaking time, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beginning around twenty minutes past eleven this freaking ass moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, old school pal, McDowell, the god of Cali along with the figure head overseer Mister Muscles Terminator Nohelp Buttwipe, attacked me SUPER ULTRA HYPER ASS FREAKING TIME, YO!!!!!!!! My video remote was struck hard suddenly and out of the fucking ass blue without warning or reason, and over and over again, and I rechecked and retested the fucking batteries and they are all the way green and fucking strong. I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY BACK IN MOTHER-FUCKING WHITE CITY WHEN I CAME BACK FROM THE PUBLIC LIBRARY AND REALIZED THAT MY FUCKING PERSONAL FUCKING VIDEO PROPERTY HAD BEEN AGAIN (TAMPERED WITH) BY THE KING/CALLIO/MCGUIRE CREW OF THE AWESOME POWERFUL (THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY), OR 'TAWF'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever since they hacked into the remote, it is now a double remote, their remote, in the same way they that they now are also inside of my mother fucking computer, TOTALLY ILLEGALLY, but to the two peeps involved, this is an old song, and I do not think either of them know that I know shit, only I do. Still, HE is forcing HER in my humble opinion or IMHO if the old 'net-expression' still is used or applies anymore as it did in the nineteen freaking nineties. Some may be wondering why Scylla, the All Mighty SSJK picks patterns of men and lovers who are so controlling and dominating, but then again, the great wisdom of DICK WOLF and the television show “L&O” kicks in to show and re-explain it all in living displays of unfathomable color and sound. We all jack into this program and are here until our last dream where Morty Mortino hits the red Hendershodt “X” at our upper right corner of the 'hologram', and ends the program. When I attended the CAMP CHESAPEAKE in Northeast, Maryland, USAWESMWG, in July of both 1967 and 1968 for two weeks each time for a total month over the course of two separate years, there was a girl there named Louise Hendershodt. She was about the loveliest young teen that I had ever encountered, and all the boys were awestruck and like 'totally nuts for her', as kids today would describe it. One night in the cabin that I was in, it may have been the Algonquin Cabin, they all were named Indian names as this was an area of Native American folks long ago where the camp was presently standing at that era in time. This was before the TRINITRAIL of middle December in the coming year of 1969 that formed a perfect and absolutely gorgeous 'asterisk shape' as it expanded and filled the entire ass skies over East Camden County in new Jersey following my return from the experience or dreaming-interaction where the All Mighty Goddess Sarah-Stacey Krassle, had taken the special chain away from me and even told me that when IO come out of the experience, I should check my strong box where I kept it as I would come to find that it is gone in waking life now as well, and sure enough, it was, mind bending as this story appears to be. I legally attest to all of this, under voluntary full charges and penalties of libel and perjury should anyone ever prove me to be a fucking liar about any of this horrendous dog shit. Back now to the night at the camp cabin. A dream came on me after falling into a very uneasy sleep, I was miserable at that camp and hated every day there, counting hours down until it was time to book out of there both years. My counselor, Mack Kaiter was a first cousin of the then very famous news anchorman Lester. It was some time-set up, and I know this now, after-all, my high school, Haddon township High in Westmont, New Jersey, it is all there on the great FACEBOOK, and the same time when Nicky boy or ALD took me back to this place and then stole my time box or oblitron making it impossible for me to return back to where I lived in the year of 1996, 28 years away as a grown man in Williamstown, New Jersey. This causes me to relive this time in my life over and over again, and the movie “17-Again” was not amusing at all to me back last year or the one before that, whatever, you can all burn up in DOGFTOWN for a hundred Mininna-Kalpa, this is what about nearly 90 thousand years of Earth time would feel like in this dog-awful condition-interaction, or you would think of in your mortal minds reading this peeps, as “place”. Back now to the dreaming-interaction in the Algonquin Cabin at Camp Chesapeake. I was standing on the long boat dock leading from near the boat house where Marylou was in charge of, at the far end of it out where the water surrounds on 3 sides, left, right, and in front. Suddenly Louise the camp heart-throb was standing behind me and no one else was anywhere at all, the entire dream-scape was a clear bright blue sky, bright dark blue water, a long dock, and the two of us, and nothing else whatsoever. Then a powerful sonic boom went off. Then she grabbed me and held me close to her and asked what the sound was, and I told her that I did not know. Then it became higher and higher in pitch, sounding like a cross between the call of dolphins and whales. Then I looked up into the still very bright blue sky and a giant red “X” was hovering over the distant right side high above, from the shores near Aberdeen across the Chesapeake Bay. She pointed up with her finger and her finger grew like the nose of Pinocchio in the famous story. As it grew, it began nearing the red ex. It was a bright small chemtrail near to where the sun was beginning to get low and colorful in the skies. Finally she touched it and everything went totally black. No sound, no light, no nothing, but I was not awake, but instead was totally inside this interaction, you would all use the word of “dream”. This went on what seemed a very frightening hour or so and then I seemed to fall into a more normal nights sleep from this point, and when I gad awakened, some git bag kid had my hand in a pot of water, seeing if it would make me piss myself, a trick done quite frequently in summer boy's camps a lot, at least back in the nineteen freaking sixties. Long story short, this was a long time before windows or internet or anything at all like this. Still a moron like Bruce Cursor or anyone else can certainly draw the distinction here, right??????

My day trading business partner knows what's been done to my computer. He does not believe that this is what is happening on his awake level, but that does not bother me. As long as he knows it on his deeper under the conscious mental levels, that is all that truly counts. I know what I am doing. Unconscious collective of the human race, know that all my blogs exist, and know what this incredible family has done to me and my life. As for staying off the site I told you, I retract this. It is me they are after, not you, they will not mess with you or your machine, it is me that was tracked when I charged the MIMI CD in 2008 at the local Wal-Mart, they from there could easily track the number and activate that one particular program when allowed to run on my system, to do all the things that it did, and sure enough, and this is exactly what indeed occurred. So do not fear going on the site of the greatest female recording artist of all time, as this will not effect any of you, as it did me, it is me this jerk off has been after all along since the middle nineties when he was too young to go after her yet, and he knew my hypnosis was about to restore my memories of so many things sooner or later.

Well, it is time to fix my din-din and relax with a movie, but first, my message to you Bob McDowell. You have to be the same BMD from the Haddonfield special education school back in 1972, do you remember the great awesome luscious Sarah Jacobson? If so, you need to get into archiving older 2006 and 2007 blogs that exist ion the blogger website of www.blogger.com/ .

Also, the odds of two Bob McDowell's of the same age that are both residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would be millions to one against this being a random chance occurrence. You must be my old school pal, and now the controller of the great United States FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION. Please Bob, try and help me, for old day and old friends sake, I am not a nut, and you know that. You of all peeps know that, we did lots of cool fun shit together, why would I make all this up or perpetrate a lie this fantastically gargantuan, it would serve no purpose at all? To this very day I laugh out loud many times, remembering how you called poor overweight imperfect Bruce, your “little dick-in-the-mouth”, don't bring me down Bob, Bruce never did, help me ol' buddy, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nicky is hacking me right now, at 1:17 PM his pacific time, or his Jason-Cali little teen pal hackers are that worship their wonderful god. This is all real Bob, help me please, let me sign off before this gets freaking ass worse.

The real proof is the endlessly displaying pacific-time that just refuses to stay reset to my time. HELP ME BOB, thank you in advance, and MC is not to blame, her is just stuck, her only crime is picking losers and rotten hubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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