SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0220

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0220
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2011
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“THIS AIN'T TERRY EGGHEADS' BLOG”
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Thursday and Friday, I did not leave my building residence. Local bullshit applies. Media hype also applies. We all try and earn some kind of a living, so I am not here sitting on judgment seats, in fact, I could totally care less what anybody does, that is until it crosses into my face, where as McCoy says so well, is where your fist must stop. When I was a young dude, both growing up as well as in my early adulthood; and well before all the PC or Political Correctness movement began and grew with roots that were made of compressed steroids; so much was different that trying to discuss it all rationally right now on a blog would be a quintessential exercise in futility. This problem or situation has an upside potential, and many of you know what it is, since I can talk a big tune and curse out the world, but am quite mousy in person, and it is noticed quickly, especially by bully type personality folks. Still, I commend the cunning-ness and total cleverness, in a major PC environment, of my vulgar putrid and crude enemies everywhere, to indeed hatch a plan in these times, and carry it off with unfathomable success and precision, taking my entire life away from me, AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE THE JERK OFF, THE FOOL, THE BAD GUY, AND THE SIKE-CASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Congratulations, and if I could offer the DICKHEAD OF THE MILLENNIUM AWARD, to these nice wonderful awesome cock sucking trash, I WOULD. You can believe that, if you ever believed any other dog shit thing in your lives, folks. Doing so much horror to me for no real good reason, and then making me look and appear like the heavy, the evil motive man, or the Callio Stalker of the early New-Age, and other things, proves to me that there are reasons for 110 pound girls, to indeed possess the physical strength of Hercules. I totally know that living along with all of us, are many un-real peeps, or maybe as Mister Data, artificial peeps, or to throw in a greater one still, other unknown peeps. I told the Chief of the Atlantic City Beach Patrol in September of 1997, that no one knows the future, and he smiled at me as though, HE DID, and never said a word, maybe because he all ready knew that what he just had told me would indeed happen, as well as his becoming the future mayor of Atlantic City. Maybe if he had wanted to give me a tape of a song that he had written, it would have begun before the music started to play, with a muffled word of 'MAYOR'. This indeed, is how 'MOVERS' do operate. They are all over the place. They have marked up library books in every county in this nation, and much more, they are trying to tell things, but unlike me, more cleverly, and more 'subtly', as Scylla might very well decide to word and say it. Just how real a lot of bull fucking shit really is around me, I am quite positive that I will never know, with or without any copyrighted precious girls, or infected chemtrail nodes. Still, can all of what I recently thought that I cracked open, be no more than a cosmic detective-program, solving the piece fittings? After-all, if chaos abounds, and things by themselves go from order to chaos and ruination, then a balance of this effect is necessary in order to compensate and keeping the entire cosmic from ultimately spinning out of control and into oblivion, or back intro it would be a more MORIANITY fitting way of presenting the argument folks. Our entire planetary biosphere runs on automatic, so why not some type of built in ultimate decaying into chaos compensation system, perhaps abbreviated and said why not some type of a (UDICCS)? 'U-DICKS' out here in cyber-reality may wanna' pronounce it just like that.

I will tell you some shit that is not one bit automatic, Crooked peeps on WALL STREET. They conspire to run prices up and down every day, they gun for stop-loss protection orders, they illegally manipulate the prices, they steal our hard earned money, and they are fully licensed by a totally crooked federal agency called the SEC. This stands for the SECURITIES and EXCHANGE COMMISSION. What good is a stop-loss order, when they know it is there, and so they gap the price up or down by a large amount that only permits the smaller investors from exiting their positions at the next tick of this illegally created gap. These are no different than the illegally created parallel-events that they use on folks as another huge monstrous weapon-tool. Their markets flew up by 5 or more percent this week. If I am so wrong and confused, tell me this, anybody. HOW CAN AMERICA BE DOWN-GRADED IN INTERNATIONAL CREDIT RATING OR ABILITY TO BORROW AT LOWEST INTEREST, and not have the stock market drop to either of the two previous levels, the 2010 low of around 8800 points, or the 2009 low of around 6550 points? If a downgrade in credit, an event more unusual than HURRICAN IRENE, and way more far reaching and devastation to the future of this country, THEN WHY IS THE MARKET NOT FOLLOWING THE REALITY, nor matching the negative point values, reached when we still had a TRIPLE-A+ CREDIT RATING, YO????????????????Powerful peeps and families have many powerful methods that protect them in numerous ways, from ever being recognized for committing the thefts and frauds of all of us on such a daily and continuous basis. Let me move along and stay on the same topic, while proving this point.

I went down to a town that was just to the south of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in the middle late part of June, in the year of 1970, Florida Lottery scrambling the middle digits up and my death as Franklin, notwithstanding; and thought I was going to be a Plumbers' Assistant. The so-called plumber being none other than child molester Thomas J. Reale. This mother fucker got away with molesting me twice, and I departed this nightmare at the age of 15 and a half years, on the night of 12 July, in 1970, at around 10:30 at night, leaving on the local bus out of town, single suit case in hand, on the Public Bus Terminal bus, that went through the local area of Main Street in Plesantville, where the great girl gang of the Callio branch of TWAF was also on this bus, and all around me flirting with me, calling me “THAT-BOY”, giggling, and only one of these girls hated me, which one I do not know. I had a bad sun burn, and she said to her friend, regarding me, “His face is all messed up”, and it totally was, it was burned and sore, and indeed looked as hideous as the Frankenstein monster. My point here, is not on my sunburn, this mighty girl gang known then and there as the New Jersey Quoddy-Mockers, because they hung around the boardwalk and Saint James Place store called the Quoddy Moccasins, or public bus rides, or final vacation days at famous seashore resorts. It is however about TOM, the semi-fagot child lover. Where is the New York City SVU when I am the mother fucking victim? Up in the future passing judgment on me and calling me “THE BAD GUY”, that's where. If you roll over in your grave, DAVE, be careful of Paula King, and your lovely NINA. To this day, Tom Reale, never made it onto the Megan Law List, or any other child offense list to my knowledge. So why did he just do this horrible fucking shit to me, and no other child? According the great LAW AND ORDER TEKLELVISION SHOW, these kind of sick mother fuckers are repeat offenders, so WHY ONLY ME, WORLD? Millions of Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities are popping into my head, I wanna' know if they are popping in any of yours?

New readers need to understand some very powerful shit about my story. It is real and honest, and totally heart wrenching,m that is if you happen to be human, and have a conscience or a heart to start with, as if not, you will be one of the many who daily puke on me, and tell me I am nothing but a ton of worthless fucking dog shit, and to go to fucking ass hell. Ann told me not to let them win by killing myself. What she is incapable of understanding is, that I cannot kill myself, I have tried, and so has the enemy,. To get rid of me, on many many many many fucking ass occasions. All I do is wake up, and it all was just a nightmare dream, as if whatever had killed me was in a dream, and now I am in a similar reality, with the one distinct difference being that the act that caused my death, never happened in this new parallel reality. Yeah, sounds like a fish tale the size of Moby Dick, but the problem is that some fish tales are totally fucking true, as are mine. Two other monumental ones took place on exact days, and spread apart by precisely 10-YEARS, 1986 and 1996. IF I LIE, I HOPE TO BURN IN OIL FOR A QUADRILLIOIN MOTHER FUCKING EONS. The magic date in both cases is the 2nd of August. The first one involved meeting a very special wonderful teenager, when I was unfortunately nearly 32 years old, in the great city of NYNY. This chance encounter led me to write a meaningless song a couple of days later, sending it along with some other songs, as a package musical project, down to the United State3s Office of the Copyrights, Library of the Congress, on the 15th, 13 days later. The song was an unflattering and totally mean song. It was heartless and cruel, but I had no idea that this person would go onto to graduate high school, and soon afterward, become the greatest voice in the entire music world. What am I, GOD? 'MOVERS' set it all up, they are GOD, not me. Now for the day ten years later, August second in 1996. My mother and I went to a diner in Egg Harbor, New Jersey. A very attractive waitress took our order, and when she brought over some drinking water, she blurted out something that almost made my poor mother wretch. She said to me, “You know don't you, there's a contract on your life”. I told her I have no idea what she is talking about. I had just written a song shortly before this, back on the 12th day of fucking May, called, “SARAH”, a name that seems to be connected with the lives of many songwriters, and sung by many well known recording artists. I wish to shit peeps, that I still had my old website in operation; www.morianity-foundation.com/ as some of my music, including this song, was up there on that site. I know thaty some of you out here have been up on that site. The entire distant future has, but that is easy for them to do, using a tool that exists there, or will exist, called, DIDE LINK. The link into our internet is possible using fields that take advantage of distance, and can thereby tune back through time. These same fields can be energized with reverse-polarity atoms, but we will not go here. Those that have any idea about any of this, know also about the invention in 1987 that was openly published in the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN MAGAZINE. This was the article that showed how a MOVER was back in 1987, with his small velocitronic motor system. Using this, a room the size of the average home kitchen, can be made up of a unit that could produce close to 100 TW of electricity. This is a forbidden subject, and only collectors of magazines can ever get to check this out, it is doubtful to me that you will find this fucking information anyplace on the entire internet.

There have been two major recent incidents, in Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG; over at the www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ job-site, where I am employed; through the AARP system, as a Store Stocker. Sheriffs and police and even a US Marshall showed up on the most recent incident. The MOVERS, as I have told my BLOGAUD on many blogs earlier this year in the spring time, played a very rotten game with me, and brought the state WORKFORCE PROGRAM into our HFOC place. These peeps are not, how does one say such a thing in 2011, someone who might get along all that well on Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York. I am speaking of nothing other than character and behavior, and in no way nationality or skin hues. Still, am I making this story up, is this another fish-tale of the Mountainpen? All anyone has to do to disprove me is to get copies of public information of local criminal reports, this would most likely be listed under the charge of assault. I believe both incidents involved one girl beating up another girl. Yes Paul, Fort Pierce is not all that nice a place for me to be living and working in, and especially, after making my escape from 'THAT-FAMILY', and my kidnapping by Dawn-Marie, the great KING of the JERSEY CLAN, well, along with distant cuzz MCGUIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Both Dawn and McGuire would think nothing of throwing a can of gasoline on someone, and then throw a lit book of matches on them afterward. Do I really deserve all of this, just tell me what I ave ever done to anyone, to mother fucking deserve all this fucking hell, and on top of that, I have lost every mother fucking thing I had. I may not have had a lot, but it all was taken away from me, when no one would help me and ? I was forced to mother fucking run away on the night of December the 12th in 2009. So if any fucking bastards out here that tells me how real the biblical reap and sow deal has, needs to be told not to ever fucking this shit to me. I have spent my entire ass life trying to be a nice guy, and for my trouble, this is my life, all this shit, a small compressed bit of it is told on these blogs of more than 6 fucking years, at the first and original website of www.blogger.com/, the blogs of mountainpen.

As for proving the supernatural claims of these 6+ years of wild and outlandishly esoteric blog text, wait for the great U-TUBE post on my account, eventually, of my first 1997 passport photo, then my next one in 2007, and then my 2009 photo from the Harvest Foods website, it doesn't match, and not even Donald Trump or Tyra Banks has access to enough make up to pull this mother fucking shit all off, and I totally know it, and am ready to expose this nightmare PAULA KING SHIT TO THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS PLANET. I sound angry as if there is an agenda or that this is personal, and you all have me all wrong. I need to prove shit that cannot be proven in any other way or by any other method than major shock value, so I'll use it. It is not personal against anyone. I have said it before and will obviously say it a lot more, I am in a war that I have no memory of ever starting, and I only know one thing for sure, and that is that if I do not fight these whatever they are entities, then on that day that I cave in and quit, I AM DEAD. Both my mother and David Roth stopped fighting CALLIOTAMM, and they DIED, and this is WHY THEY FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!! You quit fighting, or breathing, and you will die, simple truth, simple physics, with or without television advertising or any bodies resting or moving, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Before I let the details out on a huge deal involving the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, let me finish up with the second part of these two dates that were exactly freaking ten years apart in the illusion of space-time. A waitress in Egg Harbor told me that somebody wants to kill me, and would not be any more specific than that, other than my 1994-Saturn Automobile was involved. I originally believed this wild cock and bull story that someone in the projects of this area was angry at someone who ratted out the local top drug dealer, and this person drove the same dark colored and 4-door Saturn that I drove, and that this somehow was perhaps as the great disco diva would put it, a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. I did not buy Donna's bull shit, and I don't buy this Egg Harbor shit either, as it all ties together, and connects characters from what else, but the great SATANIC ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, or (EW)!!!!!!!! Continuing along with the events of the hot summer day in early August in 1996, this is when my mother and I drove west intro Hammonton, and were accosted by a gang of young Mexican-American girls, at a recording studio parking lot, that would not stop messing with me, and would not let my car out, as they blocked the way and thought it was funny, and then when we did finally exit, we drove to Turnersville, and began noticing that somebody in a lime green truck was tailing us, and this was that evil monster huge man who looked like he was from India according to my mother, as I never saw his face, and he told my mother and I quote, “I am going to kill your son, and you too if you don't get away from this truck”. My mom went over to it, only because we both noticed that it had indeed been stalking and tailing us, and parked when we did; and was staring over at us. He had killed our new car somehow, as when I shut it off and then tried restarting the vehicle, it was totally dead, AND FOR NO GOOD LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. The police came and were no help at all, intentionally writing the police report backwards, stating that it was I, who approached the man in this truck, and not the other way around. There was a very good reason for doing this, and they were all fucking to0tally in on it. Even the Prosecutor of two counties refused to assist us, and left us hanging out to dry, after this terrorist threat was made to her. Those 'raised right black boys, huh Mercedes not said from 10-SC Avenue', Senator Thompson?????????????????????? Let us get some tiny positive out of this miserable mother fucking nightmare day of monster-ass interactions from peeps straight out of DOGTOWN, whoever they are, I CALL THEM MOVERS and also the MILLIONTH-XCOUNCIL, still many other initials that match are part of a lot of this, and dates do not lie, it is too freaking coincidental, and we all know it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not blame the great PAULA for everything in my life, only for about 99% give or take a little. If anyone on this planet does not like this, well, bit me. As I said this, I got the tiny mini font attack, that I got a lot in the short time, right before my horrendous “2008” “family-kidnapping” experience. We will stop for right now regarding the night,are and totally FISH-TALE seemingly unfathomable story of the MAGICAL NON-COINCIDENTAL WAY TOO PERFECTLY TIMED DOUBLE-DATES, OF 08/02/86----08/02/96. This is a real mind bending situation, for me anyway, I had to fucking live through all this fucking ass hell. You all have the nice luxury of being entertained with this tale, and all though I know it is true, and all of the ASTRAL-PLANE GODS know that it is true, you are all saying, and I will quote it, “OH, HMMMMM, that story telling Mountainpen, WOW”.

I was not supposed to tell about this, SSJK said not to, oh boy. Before I get into it, FIRE ALARMS GO OFF IN THIS BUILDING every single day, sometimes only for a minute and then stop; so I know that there is more to this bullshit than I currently have information about. Anythi8ng these twisted fucking bastards from HELL can do to me to make that dirt bag STOCK MARKET endlessly go UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP; THEY WILL QUITE OBVIOUSLY KEEP DOING, AS THIS ALL BEGAN ON 08/15/1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never ever stops, am I correct, AGENT FALCON, AND AGENT CONDOR, YO?????????????????????? Now before Madonna closes my glandular funny funny curtains, 28 years ago, lymph nodes and MOVERS and tapes all notwithstanding, let me address a powerful deal that I know I did in fact tell and blog back around 2006 and 2007, about a dude by the name of Marty Kravitz. I thought this man wanted to cause me trouble for no good reason, and now, see the great Paula King, as the player behind this one as well, STANLEY, and am I steamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One day after I told him I would not be working in his meat market any longer, so that I could work as a plumbers' assistant for Tom Reale, in the summer time in 1970, he started a rumor, that I had lost my mind, and was freaking out, and mad up all kinds of wild stuff, for no apparent reason, after all, he could very easily replace me with any one of a hundred other boys at his market, that could do the job as well as I could. I was told this on the very same day that I was told that I was not imagining the student teacher by the name of Miss Zenkiss, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the Bancroft School on Kings Highway, named after the great King George Himself of England, who my ancestors went to war with. Strange things were indeed happening to me in 1970, it was quite continuous and perhaps almost unrelenting. The year opened up after all, with the great soap show of New York, Channel-7-ABC Network, called “DARK SHADOWS”, with their LEVIATHAN CULT, and Paul Stoddard, and the great PAYMENT DUE date, my birthday. The big story can be saved for another blog, it is late and I need to eat and crash, so let me merely tell the highlights. Maybe I did lose my mind, and do all the things that this old boss said that I did, old Marty Kravitz, of Westmont, New Jersey. I have no memory of it, but ?I have little memory of other things also, in some cases, none at all./ I did not recall the 1968 trip up to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, Long Island, New York, until right around the time that I wrote the blog titled, “Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”, in February of 2009, and yes, on KARGE-DAY, the good old 18th. There is no chance that any of this is a coincidence, if it is and I am wrong, then I beg either my daughter, or the other person, to tell me so, otherwise, why go on sending me so many mixed signals? Still, Paula King may have blocked out of my mind, some of the mother fucking bullshit that indeed Marty the butcher claims that I did back in the latter days of the year of 1970. How do I know my mom did not find out about the reason why a world famous song was playing called, “UNDER THE BOARDWALK”, and tell me, and we all went crazy, and ALONG CAME CLUELESS PAULA, NOT MISSING ME, and no copyrighted little yellow sheets of 2008 paper, but just her powerful IAD-ETTOS MIND CONTROL tactics and paranormal somnambulist abilities, of hyper-dimensional travel, power, and control.

Well right now, I do not know who thanks me or does not thank me, be it my mother or my father, or anyone else, or theirs, for that matter, Mister Cohen, or any other Hollywood, Cali resident for that matter. I tell true stuff, I have no reason to sit here in the middle of the night, spewing out a million lies, or deluded ideas. I know the power of playing with the 5th dimension, as well as the power that Paula has, and uses. I was there when I lost my BOB, and my chain, and now I am here in hot miserable Florida, with nothing left, all was lost, and these pricks sit up there in the north laughing at me. Well, one of these mother fucking days, I will get my laugh on mother fucking all of you. SSJK told me not to tell how we were together in HER GREAT CITY, back on Monday in the human world, or said better, when SHE allowed me to begin the Monday Dream, with some memories from the Astral-Plane, regarding this event or interaction is a better term, that I will now impart to this world. She was singing 'Love Is For Carpenters', HER greatest song, to me, while we were in the great Celestial Palace of Kanwal Avenue, in SDK, on the Province Olympia, and SHE told me that she would allow me to take the memory of the true melody, back with e into the waking and mortal world. When she did, I awoke with this memory, and was late for work, as I needed to play it into my keyboard memory, as I sure do not trust my memory all that much. I have been playing this all week long, using headphones. Since this transdimensional tune has been electronically stored into a memory system, it has similar results as if it were recorded onto studio systems, and tapes or CD's were made. Sorry about any inconvenience that this may have caused the mortal world, or am I. Why should I be sorry for enemies. Why should I care or do any favors for them either, Quentin Petofi Collins of Autumn 1969????????????????????????????

Sorry I failed the test Sarah-Stacey, and told the Marty stuff, but you all ready knew that I would when you told me, in fact to quote your wonderful mother, Jewelly; your top VIQUEEN on the AP; you guys all knew this for 50 million years. WOW, what a wild clan of awesome and suigenerous proportions.

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