Tuesday, June 21, 2011

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 175

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 175
3:18 AM, TUESDAY, 06/21/11
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I AM UNDER THE MOST MIND BENDING MOTHER FUCKING HORIFFIC AND “MAJOR SATANIC ATTACK” OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. NATURALLY, AS THE KING OF THE BULLFROG WORLD, ALSO THIS MEANS THAT 1786 TIMES OVER, and officially copyright protected throgh 'qpt' (Q-Parlor tricks), IT IS ALSO A COCK SUCKING “MAJOR ATTACK BY THE WORLD”, THAT HE TOTALLY OWNS AND CONTROLS, WITH HIS GIGANTIC FOLLOWING ON THE ASTRAL PLANE KNOWN AS THE LAMBRIGG CULT OF THE MIST-MAKING BRIGGBASE, AS WELL AS ON THE EARTH WAKING WORLD VIA HIS MANY TEEN AND 20 SOMETHING FOLLOWERS. I SHOULD HAVE SEEN ALL THIS COMING 3 YEARS AGO TODAY, AND ON THIS VERY DAY, RIGHT BLOGGER DOT FUCKING COM????? WOW AM I FUCKING ASS RETARDED, AND MAN ENOUGH TO FUCKING ADMIT IT AT SOME OTHER CALLIO SARAH INITIALS, that are certainly not turtle slow.

First off, the all caps printed above was a mother fucking Lattisaw computer hack. I rebooted, and have the internet connection plug out so they cannot fuck the hell with me. All day yesterday was a carbon mother fucking copy of my last birthday on December the 4th of 2010 when I turned age 56 in this current APDD or life-time or dreaming-sequence, a rose Shakespeare by any color, or name, huh Donald J. Asshole Trump?

Last Friday, and again yesterday, Monday the 20th, I suffered through a major mother fucking diareah attack in addition to other wild and weird shit, on a very continual basis. The mother fucking stock market or the Dow Jones Industrial fucking Averages, DJIA, must be totally mother fucking flying right u[p and out beyond the starry ass heavens. This is always the fucking case when I am put through major property damage or major ass fucking WEIRD-DAY experiences, that would literally make James fucking Patterson bolt up out of his chair and scream and cry and throw his shoes to disrespect our terrorist enemies, but what did I possibly know about any of that, back in those old days, Aunt Geraldine mother fucking Snow?

U-wanna' play with me Santa Claus Virginia, COOL, YO. I just love taking a tiny Wal-Mart $6 'CA-lculator', and no, not you; Billy hell wrecker; and punch up the great PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER of 532, and then hitting the “square” root button. Around my studio days, there was also another Middle of the Road, as well as another of Michelle's hubby's many cousins. I also love to excite the religious community by reminding them that this same calculator is showing that wonderful 'other' Harrah Casino number from end to end, by taking the 23 number and merely placing the divided by sign in-between them, and then pressing the equals key. Still, I feel the real kicker is the great PCN-297. Square this one, lovely Jehovah. I should have totally got your full message three years ago, it was all about you trying to pull me into a private area so you could tell me something, where your red headed distant late cuzz could not hear, nor could numerous great gramps the knife, as if either one heard what you were trying to tell me, they would rat you out to the hubcap smasher saint himself. Sky, he has hated me long before he was humanly sixteen, but still, what Earthly reason would he have to hate me at the age of sixteen, OYR?

Naturally, a great sinner walked the dusty roads of this plant long ago, and was blinded for a time by that incredible strobe flashlight of yours, BEG. Is there really any doubt in anybody's mind that out of millions of churches all over Continental America, His Eminence paid the 65-Middle Road Church down the street, a visit, GET REAL, MY PEEPS, maybe you should freaking percolate for them, Billy, all day and all night long, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How's 'Fair Deal Dan' of Munsterpine Hill doing these days?

No Scylla, I know now that none of this was of your doing, and I used the old boarding house syndrome with a slight tune alteration, nearly three decades ago, to tell everyone who may be interested, that we do not control our lives, as we do not own our thoughts. They come from a higher realm that has many names, I simply refer to it as the 6th dimension, as it is the 6th dimension, as all of these thought energies indeed filter down into the 5 dimensions of the hyperspace. I know for reasons only Phase-4-Trump knows, this pissed off the Atlantic City Casinos something fierce. Still, they are in the GAMES BUSINESS, and the controlling force behind all of this is one gigantic game. Now, it makes a lot of sense, in that light, as Dave Roth put it so perfectly and eloquently and so often, 'THEY CANNOT DEAL WITH HEAVY ASS EXPOSURE'.

Yes, yesterday was an off the meters and scales BOTBAR DAY, and I am not going to ruin my highs by screaming the word, or waste energy dancing around in the damn ocean, OK John Copyright King of 1987? I am able to speak to the cats of this world again, and even sing without a 30,000 dollar sampling of my voice, all though, I will admit that I am madly in love with this technology. I could create billions of dollars of street value tunes if I wanted to spend my life in prison. As for using it myself, the world sent me a message, and that message was that Jesus was a bigger genius than Einstein. This is because he saw peeps as such huge “hypocrites”. I go one way, they go another way, over and over since 1980, and then vice versa, and it is all a stupid ass fucking ridiculous game; and I refuse to play. Still, I do need to talk to my birds and my cats, the birds do not need to be mimicked sonically. Cats, DO and without my highs, I cannot communicate legitimately with them. I must always be known by the cat-world, and the bird world, for reasons that many may have figure out. That's just the facts of life for this old great fish. Still, things have been real fucking bad since the other LD came around a week or so ago. If you can't figure that one out, I'm sure the BFA can. Between Billy White and the Queen of Blues, we have quite a collection of royalty going on, but then Paul, old pal, the day someone comes clean and tells me why BMI paid me those royalties for more than half a decade, I will be ahead of the game. I like to know where things come from, and despise mysteries. This is why I've become a self taught astute observer of life and philosophy and become quite the amateur super sleuth.

If you demand a long ass laundry list of the events of yesterday, forget it. I had way too many to list, YO. People saying things within my earshot that are beyond mean, my dinner fucking ruined by burning up when I know my burner was on one notch past low-setting, and the thing was burning red hot as though it was cranked to the fucking max, females crawling all over me all day long like I am some young gorgeous Disney rock star, when reality goes Detective Studderreale, BING, and says no, you are old, fat, short, and ugly as fucking hell fire. It makes no sense whatsoever, that is, unless you totally realize that the 6th-D in in charge of it all, including our religion, our lives, our eternity, our “god”, the entire deal. You do not have to like this truth, or believe it, and IT CHANGES ABSOLUTELY FREAKING NOTHING WHATSOEVER, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Naturally,k I am not gonna' fucking go to work today, I am all worn out and busted fucking up inside from a brutal fucking NITTACK. Somebody disprove me, Clarence Harris, go ahead, just do it, and I will not only write an apology song for Archie Bunker, but I'll be a Monkey's Aunt without any cross-dressing. Take that one straight to the greatest bank in the world, Regis, and watch out for Paula, her magic day is right around the bend!!!!!!! No one would believe me in a thousand ass years about the wild pussy command generated from super ass attacks like the one pulled on me Monday. It is unfathomable times 10 to the 69th! So much makes any open mind, begin to add up lotsanlots of two and twos, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, if I am so wet in the head, why did the Congressman and his gang never get an answer to two letters written to the mighty Admiral? BS!!!!!!!!!


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