SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 141

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 141
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
TEOHIV/TMCAM
3RD SUBTITLE: KING “WUSSBAG'S
LIBERATRION, HARRY CALLAS”
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It does not matter who is reading this, not now, before this, or after this, not one bit. It is merely official statements needed by me on the record, forever.

I told how Robert McGuire came around an automobile on
Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG in late 2006 that I was inside on the drivers side, and Ed Lynch was on the passengers side. I told the entire story on many occasions. I told how years before this, he visited my Cherry Hill house, long after I'd forgotten all about him from the nineteen-hundred-sixties, and he sprayed into my face some bad stuff that the great television show called, “Law and Order”; recognizes as a reality. I told how a slow lengthy regaining of many personal memories was streaming back to me, one by one. In fact the show was made several months after I had successfully begun remembering things and started reporting them on my blogs, live in real time. I told about the powerful night where I went to sleep in one world and never returned back there when I woke up, and instead, found myself here, wherever the mother fucking shit eating hell, that is. I know it is not where ki left off the night before, but I do commend the powerful illusionists that pulled off this fantastic fabulous mother fucking parlor trick. Whenever I begin falsely fantasizing about my abilities and knowledge and seeming unnatural powers, I quickly move over and let the big trucks move on past me, in an effort not get totally fucking squashed by Patton's great armies, in any forms they may 'endeavor to launch' and take, YO. HA-HA-HA~~~~~~~~~~~~LD.

Today was a day every bit as [powerful; surreal and strange as was my fifty-sixth birthday back on the 4th of last December, in OH-MAROLA-TEN, BRO!

I all ready knew things would be bad due to two powerful mother fucking never-let-me-down indicator lights that came flashing on, with the brilliance and intensity of a super ass nova star, right up in your face. First, seeing a digital and analog representation of Miss Diseased-Weeds Fonda last night, and then came the incredible wild freaking nightmares that followed this during the night's interactions. I may get into some of the details to this on this blog, and if not, they then these issues indeed will be revisited at a later but shortly to follow future time. Some peeps have questions for Mountainpen, most simply don't give a shit and a half, but some have questions, but are simply way to scared to ever ask them. Well, King Wussbag the First and only now moves over in order to properly salute all of you, so move on up, Hands Jefferson, and I will emereffing simply move over; just so as to allow and Gottwald Permit, while adding fantastic Nikon Photography of the McGuire family, along with the the NINE, into his old street address in the city surrounded by many biblical waters, AKA New York's great BABYLON, with or without any firetrucks, or MISTER McGuire; all of my other great KINGS that are too freaking timid to ever publicly pose the query to me of just what is really going on with all of this last six years of THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, here we go now delving finally quite a bit deeper and darker into the closest thing imaginable to a condition-interaction known Astrally, as Dogtown, and mortally, as ETERNAL HELL AND DAMNATION.

All of this was a result of being born as the current me that I am right now, MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN, also known by similar three initials to the great fabulous fantastic mighty Library of the Congress, AKIA, the Copyright Office of the United States of America, located in the nations' capitol city, and not Krassleville or Morianity-Foundation-Ville. My coming into the world was all planned about fifty million years ago from a huge unimaginable location that a few peeps refer to here and now as Center-World. Like Donna Summer knows fully well in all of her wild PK Persona's, and especially the disc spinning Deejay of New Jersey, this world was quite similar at one time, to a large object out beyond P-8 in our solar system, who most collecting Social Security and Medicare, remember as P-9, before this was altered in the wisdom of the science persons of present time human history. The similarity is that there is a gigantic hollowed out core, that lays just beyond the first inner-diameter of just greater than approximately one thousand miles in equatorial circumference. Four large sections between this blocked off section and up towards the planetary surface is divided up and controlled by the four winds or the four horsemen, but this story is too powerful for today. The great internet celebrity and friend of the mighty DJ-Donna, whoever these souls 'REALLY' are, by the name of KEVIN MOORE, if the internet hate-page on me, is at all correct; has ripped off and stolen my copyrighted music early in this 21st century, and named the work on another ripped off work of mine, quite fittingly called a Donna Summer Destruct Tape or a (DSDT), all up on the great internet system for anyone to find out about, without my permission of course. But that is what the internet is all about. Deceptions, bullshit, ripoffs, and extra wide permission slips to rip off a persons protected intellectual properties. WEIN, or also said, SOSO? I will set the record straight on a few things right now, tonight, every bit as big and powerful as my 1986 song called, “REAL GOOD GIRL”, and all of its after effects and byproducts.

First, the NSA has successfully used the GAWNUM long before I ever used it. Trghere were many thousands of cities and towns that the great note leaver could have gone after leaving Suffolk County, New York, he chose this one because it was all planned fifty million years ago. What is so important about this rounded off time figure that I have used over and over so frequently and continually, fifty million years? Well, it is the time if measured in trips that this planet has made, orbiting our nearest star, SOL, rounded off a little bit, actually 49, 978, 635 years ago, if we accurately tracked all of this back from the time that I made it official in the Copyright Office with my book in 1994 called, “The Permission Barrier”, so now simply tack on to that figure my peeps, another 17 years. Where DOES the time go? Sheeeeeeit, it seems like three freaking ass weeks ago to me peeps, YO. When I wrote this book during the year of 1994 and completed it, all really in the first third of the year before moving back to HIGHVIEW for my second stay at this apartment unit system in the town of Will-I-AM-stown, in New Jersey, USAESMWG, I sat on it throughout the summer months and did not mail it off to the Copyright Office until the 31st day of October in 1994. This was all planned fifty million years ago, approximately of course. Such a nice ass round number, as opposed to 49, 978, 635, or now in 2011, it would change to 49, 978, 652. Now we will start admitting things that need to be admitted to, not that I was omitting shit before, but many missing pieces were not so precisely fitted together in preexisting days and times, and now on this sixth day of freaking May in the OH-MAROLA-ELEVEN year, as Barnabas Collins would say it so well to his fellow cultists, the mighty 'Nick Blair Hendershodt Reddex Lamists', “IT IS TIME, YO”. Bill gates has the same guilty conscience that MISTER Inductatherm has up there in Samantha Berryville, New Jersey, huh MISTER Pedersen? No longer will we call the college in Glassboro, New Jersey by the name you would assume by its very location, but still, 500,000,000 is not chump change, and this was the amount of money that he donated to this college in order to ease his conscience and prevent another history marker to ever prove my problems with female vocalists is really all a part of a gigantic 2048 computer program known as the MOGOSP-12-9868PZ307. This is the top level program in the system of the MOGOSP, standing for the Motive-Goal-Software-Program. If I could run this program right now, tonight, there would be a lot of revenge exacted on a lot of my personal monstrous evil demented and quite demonic enemies. Nothing I've said so far has one bit of power, I am coning up to some of this now, {(BUT)} a small foundation needed to be laid down first, YO. Speaking of the MOGOSP-374-HACK of the many office document files that were all uploaded by way of the great hypertext transfer protocol of the world wide web, yes Gawky, between you and the hexadecimal daughter systems of the multiplexed dimensionality of the greatest illusions outside the true void, things are really popping away, are they not? I am the only person with a net worth under TEN-FIGURES, who totally knows the destination of the fourth airplane on 9-11. Two came roaring into Manhattan, one went to the Pentagon, and the other was heading to Resorts International, hotel and Casino, and yes, where all of this really did begin, and you said it perfectly guys. All 4 of these planes' destinations were within one mile or less of peeps in TAWF, or THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY. Still, the huge joke is on everyone except Julia Roberts and Mel Gibson, maybe, and that is if they take their own movie one tiny bit seriously. It is all nothing but a game, and bored to tears gods live out infinity through peeps, and they do not choose the poor, they choose the super wealthy Wall Streeters, and this is truth so help me SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, on my infinite existence I swear this all to the world and its citizens of blissful ass ignorance, BRAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Think you've heard diddly yet Whoopee, sheeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do I ever forget anything cutie pie? Gimme a break, green light winker, YO!!!!!!!!! Underneath my conscious mind was the truth about all things all along. Still, every mother fucker on this planet can make this very same claim, there is only one difference, and that is, that none of you are aware of all of this, and I am. What you see as insanity or even imagination at times, is all built into a system so powerful and real that it would take me 500 damn ass years to tell any of you about it and have any glimmer of hope to be believed 10 percent. Locked up in my conscious awake mind is a lot of shit that would destroy the entire global society if ever allowed to be Gottwald-revealed. Permit me, did you say, sweet uncle? Well, screw you [pal, I do not need to permit you, I am telling this mother fucking story. You can go straight over top Dogtown, and I may even join you after I get done treating DC as the great Buena Vista paramedic in a wild ELH universe where a special highway runs from the capitol all the way to Cifaloglio, and then into Hammonton itself, MISS Shirley Hinger Safka!!!!!!!!!!

I have always known about Space-Time-Mind, and in the year 1979, as a result of meeting a dude by the name of Gary Stone in Berlin Junction, New Jersey at the Certainteed Fiberglass Company in the early summer time before getting hired at the recording studio on the 29th of July of 1979, RPL, this dude said things to me that created the cosmic consciousness necessary to receive the ultimate wisdom that takes Einstein's theories one level further into STM, and no longer limiting things to the mere ST, (SPACE-TME). If anyone out here thinks that any of this is funny or some elaborate trick, joke, hoax, or deranged rantings, it is merely your own closed mind signal that is originating from the 6th dimension, that just will not give you that powerful Gottwald Camera Permission to open up your awareness and begin to see. Let me explain this both Biblically, as well as scientifically, simultaneously. Anyone intelligent at all, will at least see as I go on with this, why I say this in my previously written sentence. Many peeps get cable television, or satellite, or direct, or whatever, and many various packages of channel selections are offered by all of these mega-giant entertainment world corporations. Some of you may get this channel but not that channel, while others get this and that or the other thing, and some wealthy peeps brag how they don't make a channel that they don't get, sort of something that perhaps obnoxious Mister DJT might say, when he's not telling all of us how he 'doesn't give a shit about his old casino competitor, MISTER Steve Wynn'. Talk about real ice machines, huh MI? I learned from the best of them so next time you make a commercial with this wonderful dude, give him a punch in the lip for me, and we can call the deal with the also '2-late'-DMK and me, 'even Steven'. Funny is it not? When you don't even try, the symbolism's, and the LD-Syndrome always is just right there to kick in, wow. I swear that I just now went back and added the freaking single quotes to those two prior sets of words. Would I lie to you, MI? Everything that I said to you that night was all true. I did play roulette at the Atlantic City Casinos, and you can ask the guy before you give him that punch for me. He crushed me forever on that magical night, but this is not the only way that Neilson tells this story back in the days of your toddling around, brown eyes. As always, you nailed that song, great TEEN QUEEN. But let me return us all to the point of tonight's blogging text now folks. I was followed back here from another universe, on August 15th in 1986. It didn't hit me fully until a few nights ago re-watching a show that I saw at least twice before on the TNG-Star Trek, but when I did review this television show, things cleared up like clouds evaporating quickly away from an ever growing peaceful vanishing and dying storm. I knew that my business partners were peeps in the great TAWF, and more than this, I knew that over there in that other parallel universe in the vast and virtually limitless fifth dimensional hyperspace, other powers existed all around both my partners and me, these being the powerful fortune five hundred competitors that were trying to take over my land management corporation, known as “STARBURN OUTREACH DEVELOPMENT CORPORATION”, recognized by the great financial institution known as AMERICAN EXPRESS, in the near future not all that far out into negative space, perhaps a dozen years or less. The incredible book I wrote in 1994, “THE PERMISSION BARRIER” is forever locked and not licked, Barbara Long Fonda, away in the great and awesome protected files of, and not fucking hacked 'ODF', here we freaking go again, the US Copyright Office, or hopefully, as I can no longer totally ever trust anything in an ever swirling STM existence of infinite never ending interactions throughout all of time and hyperspace with me, forever and forever, as it just never ever will end; and THIS, peeps, whether you know it or not, or choose to believe it or not, IS HELL!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM INFINITY.I exist in this limite3d body right here and now, but I am all time, all space, all realities, and this is not a claim of being any different than anyone else, other than in the magical element involved here, AWARENESS OF THIS FACT. As I grow older and age in my Mountainpen life, thanks to this hell, I confuse many dimensions in hyperspace. I think things happen here when they happened somewhere else, or I think they did not happen here, when in fact they did, or sometimes, I get it right; and my mind agrees with the facts, 'but all of that notwithstanding, MO', I don't have the answers to squat, so sorry. Old age without awareness is difficult enough, this is TERRA HELL, and it can become dangerous as dogshit, folks. What I can truly tell is that in the nineteen-sixties, a girl came into my life by the name of Sarah, an exquisite teenager, who I, like all average peeps, put out of my head as I grew older and into manhood, but SHER had other plans, because SHE was a lot more than just SOME teenaged girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes my lovely and wonderful Milituforce Otammites, I know that we can add 27 and 231 and then reverse the digits and holler out, “YOU GO GAWKY BOX, WOLF-WOLF-WOLF”!!!!!!! I'll bet that only a very few peeps outside those with seats on the Stock Exchange, and close in members of THAT-FAMILY to MI, really shuffle the 36 cards and ask questions of the great cat. Last night I asked two questions and got my freaking mind totally ass blown to shit and back, cubed and Cuban. But this can all be discussed at a later time on other blogs should I so choose to bring it up. For right now, here is what occurred at a strange place that my computer and stock market partner told me to go and check out. I was given powerful fucking information, and now know I am imagining nothing. Also, there is nothing I can do other than keep wreaking havoc on the planet with magnetic powers not understood by humankind today. I do not enjoy this,m they simply leave me no Barnabas ass choice, right DS Fan-Club, no not you Donna? I know secrets beyond secrets, as this dude was waiting 50 million years there to tell me what I now know. It is unreal what I know now, totally mother fucking unreal. There are no words to what he told me, and showed me on a powerful 4 terabyte computer system. It even explains the recent April 27th interaction that MI gave me. It explains the entire story behind terrorism, why certain events never happen that many think would happen, and a few super secrets that would plunge this world into everlasting darkness if ever done by anyone. I even know now why I begged the great SSJK to spare the world for a while, and why she told me that she was willing to do so since I loved he cousin Diana. It even explains why I questionably hollered out the word “MI” on the 1986 RGG master tape back in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, that the book of 1994. TPB, refers to as Raspberry Valley, back up there Archie Bunker, you aren't pretty there, white-boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe we now have some things in common Jack McCoy, and need to stay out of that old College town area. I now know that Sir Lenny knew this about me back in 1980, and I know why he hated me so much, both then as well as now and always. I know why the Lakehouse is part of the mix, as well as the colored lightning, all those beautiful colors. What I know now would never be bloggable and for two reasons. I cannot live long enough to write words that would stretch from here to the farthermost stars, and also, who the fucking shit would give a damn. Now I will go over to the great 7th Street Building and begin my newest chapter in my life of endless nightmares in hyperspace. I was approved, and by the end of the month or before, will be out of the 26th Street ghettos forever, and high atop a building that overlooks the great ocean. Shortly I will leave the job I am at as well, not because of any windfall, just because I would rather be poor and happy, than be a little bit better off while suffering through crazy games of a wild endless lovely teenager. The only way to stop interactions is by refusing to interact. I think David Roth spoke this to me after seeing it on the TNG-Star Trek show, while over at his buddies house, MISTER Bob Vandegrift. The Copyright Office knows about this cool dude, and so does the Transit Authority Systems of Pennsylvania who ripped off his wonderful song. 'Say Levy', Misses Rabil. LD is a tough act to follow, and quite difficult to kill. Habits die hard, but then, did he get a lot of shit from me? I think the blogs, and the show, tell that true tale; huh MI TQ?????

What I learned today would blow your beautiful mind way beyond the look you gave Gabby on that show, Brown Eyed girl. Bye-Bye, great ruler of the empire!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes I do know that Victoria Callio was another one of Paula's great acts. But the giant daddy-long-leg creature did not impress me at all. Tell him that I am not a cheater, and did nothing wrong. If I posted the other version that I have safely hidden away, then the world would have something to worry about. UI do not like him calling me a cheater. Please tell him I said this, TANKS!!!

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