SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 081

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 081
WORLD LABORATORIES OF WESTMONT, NJ , AUGUST 22, 2296
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THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION: (ONLINE-NOT ON CASSETTE)
COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR AND MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
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UNDER FEDERAL AND OTHER A[PPLICABLE LAWS OF THE LAND:

BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:

King Nebnooshoo is still alive and well despite enough persecution by TAWF and the OTAMMITE MILITUFORCE to finish off half the state of sunny ass Florida. I can really prove nothing, they are naturally this clever, and also, as you of all people know, Julia Roberts and Melvin Gibson, if it was not such unfathomable and inconceivable people that I am dealing with, then proving this conspiracy would not be perhaps easy, but it would at least be possible. Common sense tells anyone, exactly what is happening and going on, whether you want to believe it all or in part, or not at all, and we all know that even Michele at the RPL Studios is entitled to her great opinion, as are all of us as well, UM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me prove some real simple shit even though it PROVES nothing. All you have to do is remove the battery inside of anybody's computer or laptop, BOOBOO Jack MC-COY, to get into the most powerfully password protected machine. Tell the dude at Saint Lucie County Jail I said so. A child can set up time lapse photography and watch a normal blue sky turn into the clouds of the day all over this planet after the end of 1987, before that when 'I CALLED THE COPS', MC, this was not the case. When total strangers know exactly what you just told your mother in the privacy of your home 3 hours ago, this is no accident or random or coincidental event, it would defy the power-ball jackpot lottery system if this was not so, right Copyright Gawky? When lawyers are telling you they are not taking cases such as mine until I call back under a new name and then they are, well, what do you think, child molester Thomas Get-Reale? I know reality, it is this blog's readership who doubt my words that do not. You cannot dispute logic unless it is you who are insane, Donna Summer, DJ or not. If you are one and the same person, who mistook your identity? Did I have anything to do with that little whale sound honey-bun? When one of the greatest sound recording engineers of all time, Howard Solomon, from the RPL Sound Studios of Camden, NJUSAESMWG, hollered at my mom in late 1980 or early 1981 somewhere, for simply asking a question or two about the mysterious MISTER William Leonard McKinnon; what did this great future FLORIDA RESIDENT really know, I mean really, come on bud? When the butt wipe from Comcast Cable told me 16 hours ago to push 2 buttons that would repair my hack problem and all it accomplished was wiping out my entire 'favorites' file, what MOTIVE-PROGRAM and GOSP HIGH LEVEL 10 or higher system from the late twenties was used before I even got the mother fucking hell out of bed? And then she says, I'm sorry. I told her and I quote, “I am also sorry for what happened almost 25 years ago on a NYC street”, that got me real/e far, huh”, and I hung up. I know she most likely does not know what I am even talking about, still, what if she knew exactly what the fuck I meant, YO?

EVERY COCK SUCKING DAY IS BEYOND SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coming home from work on Wednesday around a quarter past mother fucking three in the cunt diving afternoon, I was crash dive bomb assaulted by that same ever present menacing white weird looking large semi-private corporate airplane, how you doing there, Donald Chump, still so scared of a teenaged girl that you couldn't land that stupid fucking chopper of your on your own casino hotel roof buddy?????????? Then Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler tells me on the fucking telephone in the summer of 1987, to “COME ON DOWN AND LAND, AND FOCUS ON MI SARAH, AND NOT HER PRIVATE LIFE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I never said that I have all the answers, but I know how to do what
Kevin Bacon can do even though he never flew the Apollo-13 mission in real/e life, whatever the hell real/e fucking life {really} is to begin mother trucking with, YO. All I ever told the Copyright Office is that “I never said they had to like it, love it, write it, or sing it, but that it would drive us all crazy as hell”, and guess what, you little silicon shit crawlers, IT HAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When this all began, everybody agreed to it, yes Kathy Gatherer, how right you were and are, and will always be. Still, 64 trillion years ago, we all thought we could interact in this huge STM thing, and trapped ourselves. I think we all were better off sitting out there in the void. I may be the only mother fucker on the planet who distinctly remembers all this, but I do remember it, and it is real/E.

I will post and crash, or really, 64 trillion years ago, I posted and crashed, and sent this memory around in a very huge circle, some of you call it the EXPANSUION, others simply call it outer space. Good luck NASA, maybe our tax dollars can be wasted in other sillier ways after YOU ALL COMNE ON DOWN AND DO A FYUCIONG MISSES BASSLER, I'm quaking in my shoes, and bringing you the news, YO. Whoever murdered that poor old woman, your name has lots of fucki9ng MK ion DOGTOWN written on it, and I know just how horrendous and monstrous this part of the Purgatory is. I just killed 2 little silly cons. If you blow hard on the screen at them, it stops their movement, and when they get on an outer border, they have a tendency to cross into the reality here a little closer, and then you can squish them back into the void where we all really fucking are anyway, so nothing really fucking matters at all. Still, when I was a fellow today down in Port Saint Lucie, suddenly his right arm began to pour out blood. Both times I have been with him, my water bottle vanishes into thin air. This will really get Mizz McLaughlin excited as this one goers on and so does this miserable PITSY-4. So far it is showing absolutely zero fucking sign of following the mathematical pattern, but then if we could know how hyperspaces traces exactly, we would no longer exist in this so-called holo-deck program with the memory setting switch at FULL-OFF, right Governor Rip-off Arnie-Muscles?????????????????????

When I tell it all soon, heads will roll for sure, Bayshore and lake-houses, and Lesa Family Destroyer Accuser, all notwithstanding. Nighty nightsy world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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