KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296 SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-078-022111.055
VERY EARLY PRESIDENTS' DAY, MONDAY MORNING
SUTITLES WHETHER PRINTED OR OMITTED ON ALL BLOGS
OF MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN ARE AS FOLLOWS:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG:
FIGHTING THE CANNONS OF HELL FIRE:

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Well, my last journal was not dated because I was not sure if these blogs were going to end forever. I am not going to let that oversized punk road traveling sleeper companion of mine, defeat me that easily; all though HE has taken over my computer AGAIN as he did before in 2008, and all the blogs back there show the problem was very real and right in my mother fucking face, and here we go all over again. It was so nice for a while, and then one day, a clever plan was hatched, getting me to download one of HIS worms. My clock reads 1:24 in the morning, my computer clock insists on showing 10:24 PM last night at the PACIFIC TIME. When I go to a weather site that automatically tracks, supposedly anyway, the location of my computer, it insists that I am in a place near the San Francisco Bay area of the CHARMED WITCHES, lovely car kicker/destroyer Shannon Doe being of course one of them. Pink houses of Warren Grove in New Jersey, or out there in the Cali-Bay area all not withstanding, nearby to this locale is a beautiful place that I have on perpetual scan now, called Saint Mathew, if translated in the Spanish or Latin American tongue, and would be called here in America, San Mateo, and would be pronounced similar in accent as well as basic lettering sound structure, to the word potato. Roughly 95,000 very nice peeps reside in this California place, one of which has connected himself into my computer, Mister BOOM, who else, with the help of his army of teen-pals, natch. Can I prove this like I know that one and one is two? No. So I ask anyone out here to tell me if I am right or wrong, and then steer me correctly, after I detail the facts of the worst weekend of my entire life, caused by what else, these lovely peeps of “{{{((THAT FAMILY”))}}}. AND IT IS GROWING QUITE FAST, may I offer my cigar-congrats. Now, here is what happened.

A week ago the mouse began not responding to my commands, and then started moving on its own and doing things as though someone else was in total control over my computer. Just tonight, it forced me to answer a stupid survey that popped up on u-tube about an IQ test, and caused a click-on to the section marked, “BOTH”, out of 3 possible boxes to click on. I ignore these things, and am not some immature kid who never grew up like some other peeps out here, hmmm,hmmm, ah-hmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally the least hacking is done while I am typing on office word, but then, I unplug my modem from the outside world, but that does not strop worms all ready effecting stuff from continuing to do their thing. It merely limits even m,ore invasions. But anything on the internet is instant fair game to this totally ignorant moronic power-struck imbecile brain cooked case. By the way, old road friend of the dreamworlds, jealousy does not become you Doggie-AL. But for right now on with this horrible story, and then I will remind my readership how this really all began by me in 1983 from a bathtub, and yes you heard right and I did not mistype anything, I said a BATHTUB, in a small New Jersey town by the name of Atco, named actually for Atlantic County, and where I resided, and it is all in the copyrighted book from 1994 that I wrote called, “THE PERMISSION BATRRIER”. This story was told, but it is doubtful that many peeps archived a million words and remember the story so soon, it WILL be indeed retold, and on this blog before it is all over tonight, sorry, this morning, tonight for you NAM. You know, there was another symbolic and in this century event, that the letters of NAM can indeed represent here that take u[p far beyond just the NEW AGE MAFIA, which would be those fat cat world owners that sold our country and all of us, smack dab right down the river at light speed squared and never even freaking stopped to look back once nor blink a single ass eyelid, YO. Yes that good old Moon of Jupiter, keyboards seem to be responsible for giving it way more attention than all of the other eleven Jupiter moons combined, just by placing the (I) and the (O) next to each other. If one does not proof read real carefully all works before posting or have the necessary time to reedit later, things tend to come out 'IO' so very many times; the name of this moon, I salute you. I wish I knew how to get a few hundred million people to my blogs and websites and u-tube sites, as my story might just be the only one that has a small chance to save humanity from a fate far worse than anyone's present concept of doom or death, as this is not what any near future holds in more than 99.9999999999999999% of all time-line universes in the vast and virtually unlimited sized fifth dimensional hyperspace. No man does not wink off this existence, as man cannot leave this dream. Even ODF the entire universe, physically, could be wiped out and just gone in unexplainable and inconceivable ways, it would merely all just pop right back into place and splice its own self into the perfect meshed mix of everything, and for all we know this happens on regular cycles , but we would nwever even know it. Ask Olivia Newton John what I am referring to, she stole the idea for the eighties movie from my cousin Donald Powell from the Spruce Street Video store that he and his fagot friends all owned, in Philadelphia. Anyway for right now let me please just continue telling what this piece of garbage has done to me, from his 36th Avenue mansion. Before I go on, do not make any trouble for these peeps, any loyal Morians, remember the first commandment in all of Morianity, this is exactly what these peeps all want us to do, I'll freaking handle this bullshit, just wait and see. This is all going to be litigated properly, once I gather all the needed and sufficient evidence to proceed out there, and go to the court there and file my plaintiff charges against him, along with the Mister-Ed Network since quite obviously, he could never have pulled this off without ass my pal John Lennon put it so beautifully back in the nineteen-sixties, “am little help from his friends”, John left out a 'LOT' of help from his 'HACKER TEEN' friends, but back then, how could poor old John know that, or that Chapman was on his trail as the years moved backward and closed in on his red-ex. So anyway, here is the rest of all the bullshit that happened over another famous hellish holiday weekend for the HUNTINGTON CURSED PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The clock refused to be set on the time that belongs to this location, at first it would go back a while and then suddenly it magically or 'wormagically' would switch back if you'll permit this made up word that I feel is tremendously apropos here. Then one site in particular that tracks the personal computer used with IP numbers and all this other such technical jargon horse manure, should be giving me weather for my location of Fort Pierce, Florida, yet when I reset it over and over, it went back to this other location 2,900 and something miles away from my house. Eventually, a box popped up telling me not to alter tr5he setting as it is designed to show the weather for MY LOCATION. Wow, I am tempted to pun-in here with this one, jab, right cross, zing!!!!!!!! So at this point two nights ago, I said to myself, “YO butt-wipe, this is the area the person must live in that is worming into my computer”. So how am I doing so far Detective Briscoe and Access Nation, Nora D.A., and MISTER Dick Wolf? Then I yellow paged over to the city and hit the click-in for “FIND A PERSON”. Then I typed the name POW, well,, you know what I typed, and filled in the city and blah-blah-blah, and the only listing that was male was a David. So then I went to my GOOGLE MAP program and did a direction search. Instead of typing the “A” box and the “B” Box as 2 addresses, I theorized that this address may be a brother or a cousin, or even them, so I retyped their two line address on just one box, and on the other now empty directions box, merely typed in the town name, Saint Mathew, in translated Spanish, out in Jason-Cali. If my machine was not commandeered from the address “A” box, it would not even work, I know that much about computers, and my knowledge sucks when it comes to this “Jack McCoy Serena Sutherland electronic Law and Order shell-game”. POW, suddenly here is what I am given by the GOOGLE MAP DUIRECTIOS from the home of DAVID POWPOW: Remember he is out in San Mateo, California -94403 on South Norfolk Street. So here is how I came to learn that his powerful brother or cousin has a mansion on 36th Avenue, just less than two and a half miles away. These map directions pop up, remember, I do not put my address on these 'A' or 'B' boxes anywhere, the connected internet mapping system that seems to be all built into computers from the second that we all buy them and hook them up and begin doing what we do with them, seems to know who we are and exactly where we are, and so on and so forth. So to visit NAM, brother or cousin David follows these GOOGLE instructions: He departs South Norfolk Street towards Waters Park Drive, and then he turns to the right, taking him onto East Hillsdale Boulevard. As he proceeds along, this name of the road becomes WEST Hillsdale Blvd. He then proceeds to turn left, onto Alameda de Las Pulgas, where he then makes his final right onto 36th Avenue where NAM reside, and who knows, maybe this is where the NEW AGE MAFIA indeed is living, that is not my call to blog, YO!!!! Anyway, I have my temp-key and Google Earth license and have all of 36th Street under zoom in swivel surveillance. Their even is an audio feed, an audio enhance, and recording system, that will all be recorded straight off the screed into my small digital video-cam. All one needs to do is place the computer monitor nest to a lamp on both sides with a 100 watt light bulb on each side, or 150 is better, place the camera on a fixed perch, and then let it record the recording, and then the evidence that this hack was indeed done to me is well on its way to a prosecution. It is not you I am after TQ, you have nothing to worry about. I have all the sheriff names of the SM County, it all is on thee internet, the entire world is there just waiting to be plucked off the tree like fresh ripe ass fruit. Now if some genius out here can tell me the rerror of my ways, fine, but no Miss 'Jam wells' from the UM are invited to respond with any silly ass shit, I don't wanna hear it. I know this is all real and happening, and somebody may be going to jail; unless this shit stops and it is explained to me to my freaking satisfaction just why this all was done to me in the first place, and not just this, I am talking 5-10-20 + freaking years, so you better have a good answer ready when the sheriff comes knocking on the door to your freaking 36th Street Mansion, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the 1983 BATHTUB MUSIC CURSE, that led to the computer viruses and hacking of 15-25 years out into the future.

I talked to my metaphysical friends on the telephone, and recorded them with permission of course, and told one of them how I planned to start something that I had named, the MUSIC CURSE. It had to do with placing a destructive sound on a tape that ears could not hear, but when it was played it would ruin the tape recorder that the tape was played on. Trying to play other tapes on recorders that were starting to go bad after the sound went through them, ruined more tapes or infecting them with the same sound. This process went on to eventually destroy the entire music industry. I was tired of having my mother fucking songs ripped off for 3 or 4 years, a long time to a 28 and a half year old punk like me at the freaking time, and UI was very pissed off. Naturally this was all made up and the conversation was entirely metaphysical with made up phase-four characters such as Professor Jackson and Shorty MacInvondi. Still, the idea caught on, as these tapes later were stolen out of my car, as were the ones that you hear on the MARK MOHR INTERNET HATEPAGE, the 3 MP3's advertised by that super mega slime going by the handle of DJ-DONNA SUMMER, this butt wipe is huge hyper time big on the freaking U-TUBE, listen to the ass hole. And listen to Bruce as well as me, he can get you rolling on the floor, I swear to the booming sounds and the glittering lights of Trumps mighty casino CASTLE, turned MAINA, and they symbolism is either fucking dead or nonsense, oh yeah, RIGHT, huh MI???????

Well, this is just one of the many stories you all will encounter as Julia White's 2nd Calendar is ushered in after the winter equinox the year after this one. In 1987, there were no peeps talking about CHEMTRAILS, only poor me and David Roth, as we got our bodies wiped out and wrecked by this viciousness straight out of NICJK'S HELL. As the years keep on rolling in, you will see that as far out as my blogs may appear right now today folks, they will all be proven out to be totally true,k JUST MARK MY WORDS, and remember, WHY WOULD I FREAKING LIE?????????????????????

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