SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 110

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 110
WORLD LABS OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE: 032811.MISS DIRT BALL JANE PM
BLOG 3RD SUBTITLE: “HOW CAN YOU WIN WHEN
YOU ARE CONNECTED WITH THE HHHHHHH-RED-X”?
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I don't have a lot to say or tell, but these few quick words and this short message is very necessary, and who knows, maybe it is finally the perfect combination of letters, from A-Z?

First, I asked a deck of normal playing cards with the four suits of ace through nines, a question in my mind during the drawing of both my first as well as my second card. My draws were a one and a five, producing the GAWNUM PRIVATE-COSMICODED NUMBER OF 154, as any loyal MORIAN knows quite well. Google up the “GAWNUM”, for those newbies who don't have a freaking clue, YO. Speaking of the GAWNUM, this blog number is totally symbolic and representative of none other than the “GREAT MOTHER”, SSJK's mom, JULIA WHITE, of the great book of 1994, written and copyrighted by me, the Mountainpen, called, “The Permission Barrier”. JULIA WHIE has the PCN-110, and this is SJ-#110, like DUH, not DUD-HACK, Lattisaw jack-quack-hack attack. Nothing happens in an isolated way, and all things FIT, cosmicly. PCN-154 was produced by a normal playing card deck, while I kept shuffling and drawing my two picks, and the question in my mind was, “What was the call from San Mateo, California all about and how could they cause the memory of a stored number to vanish off of the caller-ID screen built into my desk-top telephone, and who are these people? Only two matches are in my GAWNUM book for the number of PCN-154, out of many hundreds of my matched combinations of numbers, names and phrases and word groups all written down on a red and white Wal-Mart lined notebook. These two items are, “ROUNDHOUSE”, and “MARY CARTER”. Am I shocked, or for that matter DJ-Donna, surprised; after all, it is as you said so well in the late nineteen-hundred-seventies, “OUR SONG”??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Roundhouse Museum of Egg Harbor, and the author of the fantastic and riveting book entitled, “Secrets of the Museum”, by Roy Carl Weiler Senior, is a powerful hyperspace reality, its location, its truths, all of it, the name of the author, and so much more, only could be really and truly disputed by morons. Real quantum physicists know that too much shit is going down here not to be beyond the rational or the explained by the non-surreal. Mary Carter Paint Company, as does the museum, speaks for itself and needs no further words from me right now. However, on many past blogs from 2-5 years back, all of these issues and items are absolutely and thoroughly discussed and explained. Nothing is fictional, over exaggerated, or delusional, and many now are beginning to realize this, from here all the way to China and Japan over the past three freaking years. Keep the volume down when listening to the things we can do in another (18) years, and you too, in the history class, TOLD YOU!! Don't ever let me trick anyone now, STM is a parlor trick, it is never any more than that, and before Einstein figured out just ST, there was only what there was before that as far as humankind's wisdom and scientific knowledge went.

Now we could be brave and get into some super ass heavy shit tonight, but instead, only the following message will be printed. I would very much like to believe a few things, but if they were true and I could know it, there would be no stock market left by the summer time, and that is not permitted. 'All of this is under THEIR total control'. If nothing else is ever believed that is printed on this blog, I do know for a fact that the last sentence IS, that I've placed in semi-quotations marks. Now to wrap up the show and pull Emy-Amy's curtains together in eighty-three. Talk about historical repetitions. I would like to believe the nice comment n the MF was written by the only one who could possibly know these truths on this planet, well, one of the two. Then, it would be nice to have a glimmer shade of hope that you know what is happening now, and by whom, to whom, and that you are aware that where I am but will not be much longer, are ways that a clever mind, can reach me, without being blunt or out in the open. After all, it has now reached this point, why not at least go past the smiley faces now? I think I know the possible seven peeps at the 'H', that 8-letter again, that all ready somehow, and in some way or various small degrees, are here because 'I AM HERE', only it is now 23 years after the Copyright Examiners and McDonald's employees were burning up their shoes dancing to this truth, only the 'Briggbase' period of 20 years, as Paul Stoddard and the gang knew fully well of BACK IN LATE 1969, AND EARLY INTO 1970; would perfectly place things right where they were when I was kidnapped under a Stockholm Syndrome. I know a Dalmatian Dog personally, very personally in fact, who is having a horrific nightmare called 'MOUNTAINPEN', and is B---E---G-------ing his Teen Queen to find a way around what happened to me today, and tell me what I need to do. If any of my few memories are serving me correctly from almost twenty-six years ago, I know you are clever and street smart, far beyond Diana's worthless brother, and can get a message through to me, after all, he did. I am right here, and you know where. I only trust the few that I mentioned in this circle from “H”. I know you are always watching over me, and need no bible to tell me that, TQ. Interesting choice in dates for Washington, DC Kite Festival, would you not agree my lovely brown eyes? OYR!!!!!!! I believe in you, if that means anything at all any more. You wanted an apology, I gave you the best one that I could. It is late, and I am very worn out. Let me say, END TRANSMISSION: