SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0212

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0212
KING NOTHINGPROPHET OF 1988
NEB NEBUCHADNEZZAR'S NEW SHOES
SBT WORLD LABS DATFILE: CH-0212-081511.101
SUBTITLE BLOG NUMBER FOUR:
“RIGHT ON TARGETED SCHEDULE FOR BULLSHIT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN:

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I had a visitation from the lightning goddess DIANA yesterday, SHE was so beautiful and awesome that no words could ever even begin to adequately describe her colorful displays of brilliance and power and luscious fractal designs bolting throughout the skies all around me for a long time from the afternoon into the early evening. SHE was warning me of the impending bullshit from my garbage fucking WOMO enemies. It began at just past two, an attack on the telephone. Some illegal bastard cut in and cut off my line. I WILL BE TALKING TO THE UTILITIES COMMISSION IF YOU DO NOT HELP ME, FRIEND ROBERT MCDOWELL. Since 'THEY' want to start shit right on dated cue, two hours into this REAL BAD DAY OF REAL GOOD GIRLS, let me borrow an old expression from SIR WILLIAM LEONARD MCKINNON, MY OLD PHILADELPHIA RECORD PROMOTER FROM 1980 AND THE DISCO ERA, that would go, “Good Lord and a quarter”, as this is quite fitting, if added herein now by me, to his expression that I heard him use while he was conversing on his 601 handle on Citizens Band Radio, with his friend, “MISS CHILLIE”, “OF A CENTURY”, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!

Eight years after these times and days, I graduated from the school of Nothing-Prophets, and made no bones about this fact, to the world, or to the LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, OFFICE OF THE COPYRIGHTS, YO!!!! Aggie Girl was going strong with her great hit television show that began airing a month or two after the birth of the greatest female recording artist of all time, Mariah Carey; and back then, I thought that she was stealing parts of my life such as when Jim Burr told me that Satan was trying to drive me “Completely and totally mad” an AMC Quote that I thought was quite spurious in the 1988 circa, as Jim said this to me in the late spring time somewhere about, back in the year of 1975. This is also when my mom was visiting her cousin Ruth Huntington Gottwald, just a few miles to the south of where Mariah was then living at the age of five years, in Huntington. Since3 these days, many things happened that led me to believe that I was being teased and made fun of by the media and the EW. I have come to remember a MAJOR EVENT, by forcing myself to bring to surface consciousness, memories that the great JULLIA-RepressedD into deep recessed unconsciousness. One thing I am allowed to tell tonight, and will since these pricks want to attack me so soon into this day of monsters and hell. It seems that they are not teasing me at all, but have been sent back here, to cleverly assist me in remembering stuff, and slowly breaking out of Julia white's Hoffman-Medallion Strobe-Light ETTOS-IAD power of the PAWM-PIE. I do not have any goal or intentions of upsetting huge apple carts, but when my life is on the line as I feel right this minute that it most mother fucking certainly is, then I have no choice at all, BUT to act, at the risk of monster slaps, and pressed buttons, coded numbers, movie mail-boats, and Atlanta Ball Park clocks that change lives of some peeps forever.

So how can I be real cute and clever tonight, and upset only enemies, and not the special love of my eternal life? Trying to write a little fairy tale would only annoy, this is not my intention. I want to severely bruise OTTAMILITUFOTRCE, while simultaneously not straining a new relationship with? Well short, simple, and sweet, here it goes, as best as I can. I could be complex and try and remind the world that no real tangible thing exists in any real solid universe of things, and folks are going to shake their heads and move onto the next blog of 'Uncle Reds Sloppy Garage', or whatever; so let me not even go here, and get a bit scientific tonight. I want to say that everything is a bunch of little numbers or thought energies, and blah-blee-blum, but this won't work, so I won't, all though it would make the tale I try and explain work so damn well, oh shoot. So carefully, WAYV-NJ Paula Roofdog, I'll just come out with it, very, very, very, carefully. I love the brazenness of these Atlantic City prick shits, who think that they can do whatever they like endlessly and relentlessly, without ever having to experience any consequences at all for the demonic ass fucking actions. Well, it's consequence time, Trollio, McMeekan, Callio, Callisurdo, Natalie, Reale, King, Queen, McGuire, Martino, McGettigan, McGinty, Twist, and the real total list, is longer than Lex Luther's super arm, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I always wanted to fly, Kent, right? Well, this statement was made by someone who wrote a show in the middle eighties, who knew exactly what is going on with me, and I have no desire whatsoever ODF upsetting a wonderful person who has all ready suffered through way more than her fair share of family squabbles and problems. That's *****'OF'*****, not ODF, mother fucking word hacker dirt bag sub scum squat licking dick tongues!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAKE UP BOB FREAKING MCDOWELL, my Johnny faster story is quite pertinent to your old 1972 jokes, old FCC pal, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I needed to research and find any possible way that there might be, for my interacting more efficiently with gravity, a highly unknown electromagnetic force, for the most part. I drove my wife totally nuts with my obsession. Perhaps it was not directly meant as a punishment, but my wife is a sleep-walker. During one of her many bouts of this affliction, she took a stair tumble, and when she 'awoke', told me her name was Paula King of Atlantic City. After time went by, and we shared a few experiences that were totally new to the both of us; she suddenly remembered being a lot more persons than just the split EVE WHITE/EVE BLACK personality. She told me she was from a very distant place in the future of this planet Earth, nearly a thousand full ice-age cycles out into the future. I thought she had gone mad, but when I realized that she knew things she could not possibly know, and that went far beyond what I knew, I could no longer dismiss what she said to me was just delusional ranting. I was all set to run away from her in 1968, and she found this out. I went to sleep one night, and she came into my dreams and told me outright, “Neither one of us are dreaming, I am controlling this experience”. Suddenly we were in the year 1970, two years in the future, and down in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Long story short, she introduced me to a strange teenaged girl named Sarah, on Tennessee Avenue, and she told me that she had been one of her friends in a parallel universe. Now she was talking in scientific terms that she could not know anywhere near as much about as she seemed to, and even I was unable to follow all the things that she was imparting to me on that street. Suddenly we were walking underneath a pier called the Central Pier, and we saw a young boy walking towards the south, under it to the other side of the beach, and she, with me at her side, went over to this poor small kid, pushed him down hard onto the beach, and then threw me with unbelievable force, right down on top of him. She screamed some strange words and for what seemed maybe half a minute of just longer, this kid and myself were totally one person. Then she said after this was done and over, “The two of you are now as one, he has your secret of flight, he is the chosen Huntington, the water walker”. Then I instantly awoke, and forgot this until I lay dying in a bed in Washington, DC, a while back. I believe I told some of this story to three peeps, most close to me, my wife not being one of them, I did not trust her, nor remember if she even was around. I seemed to die in peace and wake up in a place called Krassleville. I was the Lord Mayor. After some time, I began to get tired and felt the need to rest. I lay down in my office at this large Municipal Building, and woke up inside the life of a human who was living in a trailer park in Mullica township, New Jersey. It was February of 2008. I had lost more than half a decade, and then began to let these memories fade away, and merely become locked in with the life of the person whose body I seemed to be inside of. I was telling a horrible story via blogs, using the world Wide Web. I am still doing this to this very minute in time, only tonight, I remember why. When I was in the Camden Shipyard for a short time, I met this dude, and this sentence could be said in either direction. So now I am pondering the great query of, where is your plot going to take us all next, Miss Photeous Nixon, and why?

As for the hyperspace and complex reasons for so many interacting role play characters, it does minimize the otherwise boredom that would set in within a few million years, but after a few quintillion pass, the need to use the ?GAME DISTRACTION METHODS, do in fact become a very necessary tool of employment.

As for what Sheriff Monk's Office informed me, regarding the many very interesting things that go on at certain addresses, it is obvious that the TEEN-KING, and Y-NOT, you know, queen and king and all that, but no, I do not believe for a second that he is not having a blast with his newest flash-mob project. I intend to write an anonymous book someday, it might be called, All the Boyfriends of my Daughters. Don;t be jealous Agnes, I couldn't have done it without you baby!

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