SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0067
NINE IN THE EVENING, ON
WEDNESDAY, 9 FEBRUARY, 2K11
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Let me keep the journal updated on my endless and fucking infinite hell with OTAMM and the MILITUFORCE of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, and this has dog squat to do with any my space dot com social networking group, or even mi space. If only that stinking tape could have been totally erased, mi memories would have never returned, but alas, that was not the fate and destiny for poor miserable persecuted mother fucking MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I went to bed shortly after posting last night's fucking blog, safe journal blog #66. At just shy of fucking three of the freaking clock in the MOUUUUUUURNING, I awoke to horrific monster fucking stomach cramps and had to run for the fucking toilet and shit my guts out in a ruthless and horrendous fucking diarrhea attack from these diseased prick sucking jerk off animals.
When I returned to sleep, it was just past four somewhere, and I lost an hour of sleep and suffered a lot of pain from their covert fucking wet-work assault on me and my body. When I arose and went to my job, there were three super low and very loud private fucking aircraft's that went over the building at the Orange Avenue Harvest Outreach, www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From Detroit, Michigan to Long Island, New York, I do not need Woody Guthrie or anybody else to tell me 187 reasons to be totally and fucking endlessly miserable as a result of these monster ass enemies, generated via and through the unfathomable wicked evil (HUNTINGTON CURSE). LSS peeps, YO, I have a civil right attorney looking into several breaches of my constitutional rights. Even the Social Security Office is messing with me and will not return my phone call after THEY sent me a letter first regarding a personal matter. This entire thing is a huge government conspiracy to drive me fucking insane and over the edge to the point where I will either kill myself or others, and they know exactly what they are fucking doing to me, this is a precise fucking formula no less powerful or real than my PARALELL EVENT-1986 creation, huh Professor Deturch at U of P, at University City, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG of 1991?
I will go on keeping the record and the journal and anyone else interested, advised, abreast, posted, updated, appraised, and apprised of all of my life situations, or really, SHITUATIONS is a more accurate word, huh Benjamin Poorich????????
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