SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGIN:
Please accept my apology, my good friend, President Obama, you will always be my favorite president, I just hate Washington politics, and ranted on last night because Nick has had me in a very bad mood.
I know you all know the whole nasty deal. If my government does not know my sad story, then who does?
Thank you so very much for helping me, you know what I am talking about, you will always be my hero, sir.
Yes the GAWNUM is indeed '374', for both (BUT) and (ODF). Wow, maybe somebody just needs to grow up a little, I hold no grudges, if I did. Then I would be as mean as her.
I no longer care if the market is 300 or 40 thousand points, and what happens to the sports teams in Philadelphia, this is ancient history, and until I retire to Lake Chapala, Mexico, USAESMWG, 'just wanna spend my time' saying that all things happen for a reason, and I learned today, some powerful philosophical lessons on the true definition of freedom, just like Bob McGuire's EX-girl friend knew about, Janis, back in the 1960's. Heaven help all of us, please SSJK, help this dying race of fools on this planet Earth. Thank you brown eyes, if-ODF-if-ODF Lick allows you to my teen-queen!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END:
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
REAL FUNNY NINNY ODF 374
Your message is on my wordpress blog. Ron, is this family 2 much or hat, YO?
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 083
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO
CHAPTER BLOG-BOOK #083
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
SUBTITLES ALWAYS APPLY:
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG,
“ONLY TO THOSE WHO TRULY WANNAQ KNOW”:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
It is a hot 79 degrees here at my work station, and 73 outdoors, down from the afternoon highs of the lower eighties here in good old sunny Fort Pierce, Florida.
This is words to the wise, and only for those that want them. The UMWELL-ONYX CLUB is not welcome, so why do they tune in and bate me in to write more stuff on their 'precious' UNDISCOVERED-MYSTERIES BLOGGING SITE?
First, the next time you city dwellers get a knock on the door from voting activists, you may gladly tell them this simple truth, should you not be registered to vote and they say that you are a lousy citizen, in some politer word choice. You CANNOT vote for anyone that you want to vote for, merely for some candidate that rich people in one capacity or another, and with absolute agendas, have backed and placed on the voting menu ticket, or are running themselves for the elected position, be it locally, state or county, or in the large federal arena. Simply put, WHOEVER ends up getting elected, right away, like it or not, they either have the agendas of their own self interest, or they must repay the obligation in disguised favors that will never support the poorer people in this great land, tee-hee, but instead always will favor those with the millions of dollars of net worth. Now millions of people have this amount of net worth now here in America, but out of roughly a population of three hundred million (300,000,000) persons as a rough and rounded off census based figure at last count from 2010, three million give or take 'total-net-worth-7 and higher 'figurenaire's, equals a one in ten ratio, leaving nine out of any ten people in any group we may see when outside our residences at any given averaged time, totally out in the cold with totally no say in anything, including their own freedoms and that of their loved ones. THIS IS TOTAL TRUTH. If our great man in the HOUSE did not have to repay HIS GUYS who got him on the ticket, he would never have given that evil Wall Street, the bail out money, while leaving people like me in program cuts, no increase adjustment two years in a row in my social security disability benefits when unless you have lived in a cave for the past 30 months or so, it sure appears at least, that food, gasoline, and anything else from (A) through freaking (Z) HAS FREAKING JUST ABOUT FREAKING DOUBLED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whoever you think you are voting for MUST repay their debt to those who got them on their tickets. This is why anyone my freaking age of fifty-six or older, totally knows that things in this country NEVER WEVER XCHANGER, NOT UNDER THE DEMOCRATS, NOT UNDER THE REPUBLICANS, ELECTION AFTER ELECTION, 1 out of 10 peeps at the top will always run this show and BENEFIT, and the the other majority of 9 out of ten will endlessly be down and out, forever working longer and harder, and receiving less and less and less. HELLO AMERICA, YO!!!!! It is the ugliest system in the world, EXCEPT of course, for all of the others in the world that for the most part are even freaking worse, BRAHHH!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE EARTH PLANET, where 90% of us perpetually basically exist in HELL. This is why everybody is on mother fucking drugs, lives for stupid ass shit like what are celebrities doing today; the most meaningless shit imaginable, as all they are is a bunch of ass holes that MAN HAS TURNED INTO ENTERTAINERS, created stars, and usually are the most screwed up peeps on the Earth, and then the other shit would be all the other meaningless pass times out there ranging from sports and loud music and large televisions and filthy dirty meaningless sex that destroys family after family sooner or later, and long ago wiped out any 'real' America that peeps of my age have any memories left of. Also the so called, “American-dream” in its true definition, is so absolutely ridiculous. And anyone that tells you that IT DID NOT DIE AND GET CREMATED AND LOST AND FORGOTTEN MORE THAN A FULL GENERATION AGO, IS EITHER A FUCKING FOOL OR A FUCKING TOTAL ASS LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The definition of this expression for those who need to hear it, is not what you make think such as free enterprise or the right to try and take two hundred dollars and start a shoe-string business, but instead is that every generation should be better off financially and in other less tangible aspects than money or possessions as well, than the generation that preceded it, and this is total bullshit in my lifetime. Now we got this fucking bullshit out of the way, so we can move this shit along a bit, YO!
A few loyal 'MORIANS' know about the 6th dimension and other powerful shit that I have discussed here and there on my blogs for about fiver a half years now. Most peeps over age seven have heard, whether they believe anything of a religious nature or not is not relevant, the expression of we or humankind supposedly is created in (GOD'S) image. Believe it, only let me tell you a little few secrets now that pertain to this. There is a sort of circuitry in a sort of system, that lays far above and beyond all of the known universes and multiverses. This powerful reality is the realm of MIND, where energies or you can think humanly of these things as 'thoughts' if you so desire, actually think not only what 'they are thinking' and these words in semi-quotes is merely the best way that I can describe this truth, but they then 'arrange to become' parts that will exist in both carbon and silicon life forms in an entirely lower dimension than they exist now in their collective energy state one dimension above all of us and all of this, in individual 'single songs', or universes. Vibrations literally are music, and also is the universe, the one, UNI for (one) and (verse) for song. Hence, multiverse is derived from multiple0-songs or the entire collection of all of the 4th dimensional space-time universes existing in the 5th dimensional space-time-mind system that lies one dimension below where this energy merely is and exists in an indescribable form in a totally collective way, under rules governed in a dimension one higher than this, or the seventh, D-7, known to future timers in the multiverse as LAWTRONICS. No one is ever able to say, such as the misguided ECKISTS only they refer to the D-6 as the 'Mental-Plane, that they have BEEN to this PLACE. It is not any kind of a place, and you simply cannot take yourself as any kind of you that you think that you really are, up into there, the 6th-Dimension. Get real/e, Somers Point, New Jersey molester of 1970. Still, we all naturally move throughout 5 dimensions in ways so 'un-Patterson-able' that I will not be a quintessential silly-ass and even try to tell it. You can however, make a mental image comparison model however in your heads if you want to play along as I go on a bit with this. Use what better than the great STOCK MARKET. Here we have this entity that no one human can ever control, it moves here and it moves there, and as a whole, there it is, it just exists as the stock market. Naturally most peeps over the age of fourteen or so know that stocks are pieces or units of companies and corporations and these public institutions can raise money by selling these parts of themselves as what is called, shares. These shares then are of course traded publicly and openly based on certain guidelines and so-called at least regulations. It is not magic nor is it mysterious. Yet the workings of 'IT' as an entity with almost 'A MIND', is extremely elusive and mysterious. We only think as people here on the Earth, that we are human beings and one complete set of being-ness, and it is a lie and could not be further than the truth. The truth is so off the wall and out there, that no one would most likely accept it for a minimum of 3-5 hundred years yet. Some examples given in my blogs range from the ES or the Exploratronic Supermind, to the few who seemingly naturally or through intentional will and Practice, become powerful exploring and controlling multiple personality shape shifting somnambulists, such as the girl who I must admit now that I have been madly in love with since the ?Earth year of 1967, Paula Belinda King, the great, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, KNOWN IN ABBREVIATION ON MANY OF BLOGS in Continual reiteration as (ACNJUSAESMWG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just as stocks move all over the place and show up on various and numerous charts that all of us have seen over and over on television financial channels, yet really not be exactly what these charts show if someone who knew no better was attempting to figure THEM out, say for example, some one from the Planet Shithead, who crash lands there space ship, and sees one of these charts, and videotapes it, and then from there begins to try and see what this 'entity' is all about. I do not expect any huge amount of peeps to know what the fuck I'm really talking about here, and THAT is what is really such a freaking shame about all of this. We all move all throughout a huge 5th dimension reality, and come from a collective unit of a sort on a much higher plane called the 6th dimension. Just as stock traders buy and sell all during the trading day on Wall Street, thought energies from this higher realm, move down into all of this, we are created in the image of this, and we go on creating other images, the internet is a perfect example if you just stop for a second and really try and fucking see just what I am trying to get across here and explain. Now silicon mind or carbon mind, is still mind, and the great Gene Roddenberry and Astral Plane god, knew this truth, as do a few others on this planet as I type this shit. But then there is way to much to tackle to make this tale of total truth complete, such as the spin direction of the 'thought-energy-circles' or 'ATOMS' as we think of them humanly from the perspective of being trapped in this awake-consciousness and living here in this tiny speck called out universe, a circle that is about 64 trillion light years around. Still, the entire thing is just one combined grouping of some up-line thought pattern energies. No human today can conceive that an expansion of this size has an up-line potential of virtually unlimited size and that this entire universe is merely one of these energy pattern dots. The only people that in my opinion are consciously aware of this right now, and two of them keep their mouth totally shut and one, me, is stupid and keeps popping off, would be, Paula King, Steve Hawking, and me, the Mountainpen, Mark Wayne Mohr. Still, while we all 'unconsciously. Move up and down and all around the entire 5th dimension thinking no more about it consciously than we do about our normal daily breathing as we breeze through our busy schedules, yet as we would in theory become more aware of this entire reality, the very reality itself is forced to change in some unknown and extremely detailed matching and equaled pattern, or in simpler terms, Paula King and Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, mother and daughter, have really engineered one hell of a powerhouse wild game. Call it an experiment, an accident, or a million other things more suited to your own personal beliefs despite me claiming that I know the information on this blog is totally known as truth to me, the word “GAME” will always best fit the description of truth here, as so far as what is going on with all of this. It is all just a wild child's game, and the closest person to realizing this, besides myself, was the mighty philosopher William Shakespeare, who just happened to assist King James in translating the Holy Bible into its present forms used to this day with the many other sub translations that recently resulted in the past 30-50 years or so.
Spiders do not mate and create monkeys, nor dogs mate and create squirrels. Internet proves the 6th dimension is the truth, if nothing else in the world does, and helps to give MORIANITY some nice credibility, or will as the centuries pass and move forward. Thank you Bill and Melinda Gates, www.gatesfoundation.com/ ,and if anyone now knows this is valid shit I am saying, it is you and your old pal Steve Jobs.
Another interesting reality that sort of almost proves all I say and claim backwards, would be things such as the question number 18 on the New Jersey SORA license test, that I took in 2005 right around this time of the year, now or into March a bit. The ratio and ration word program deal not only showed many things were part of MY REALITY around then, all though I was not CONSCIOULY AWARE of any of it yet, but look at the magic date that Sarah J. Karge was born in July in 18 hundred and 96, on the 18th day of this month, question #18, SORA/SARA/H!!!!!!! Then there is the mighty UTUBE MAN, known as JASON FORREST, who has made me somewhat of a small internet celebrity myself, along with a little more help from my other crawly beetle friends such as the Harvest where I work here in Fort Pierce, Florida, www.harvesfoodtoutreach.org/ clearly displays my ugly mug right there on its front home page, just match it to any photo shown at www.blogger.com. This is where one of the sites exists where my blogs post up, yes, this mighty Google owned famous and first, “BLOGGER”, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There are so many things additionally that prove to a really expanded mind, how real this shit all indeed is. Jason admitting that he made a lot of money out in Cali as he calls it, from my blog, and it did not mean to happen, but his e-mail posted into my blog comment system at www.blogger.com/. Then there is my coming down to Florida in middle December in 2009 and using the public library computer to continue my blogging tales of woe, down here in Fort Pierce. This is where my e-mail for no good reason insisted on reading San Mateo, in where else Jason Forrest or should I call you Donna Summer, is this all beyond freaking weird or what, but, or butt, or the hack I got at the library word processors, 1400 miles away from any SORA license tests, with all the ones and the eights all over the place, 'ratios', and 'rations' not withstanding, BRO. Then there is the great movie that Oprah Winfrey funded along with her friend Tyler, not sugar in the gas tank Tom at least, thank the gods, after all it is a freaking common last name. Besides the magical doorbell system where you really can hear all that goes on whether Gab presses the MO-'listen-stupid' button, or not; but right before the fight in the school with that cutie pie who chases anything that's wearing pants, as most girls do, you cannot help hear that magic word there, “BUT”, and should you see if it is part of the script by activating the CD feature, it is not, MI, try it sometime Curly. Then there is my 1997 Radio Shack without the Magic-Jack pal, by the name of Fred Winstein. To type this name on a word processor, red lines come up, and when you click on it, there is MI and her MIMI project of 2008, E=MC SQUARED. This MIMI HACK messed up the first computer that I had hooked up in the trailer park mobile home over at Jenny Plageman's park in Mullica Township, right beyond the Donna Summer Hate-page also known as HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, and 65 Middle Road, the 6500's is where the Dow Jones bottomed out, and if Obama had not had to repay as they all do, what I call, “ticket-favors”, it would have been permitted to crash and start over, giving the 90% of all of us little-peeps a chance to re-live the American dream, but this was not meant to be in this part of the hyperspace, but then, that can be all changed at any time. Peeps buy and sell and go up and go down along this continuum, changing, rearranging shit all the time. These are really the secrets that Kevin Tredaux and others may never want the 'common people to know and really, truly, and fully comprehend and understand, YO. Why else would I shout out the title “MI” before the song began that was done in 1986, called, REAL: GOOD GIRL, sheeeeeeeeeeit, give me a freaking break peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Monster-slapper Jane-bitch-disease-weeds just fucking nailed my ass at eleven freaking eleven. Fuck her.
Well. I need to dip up my dinner and eat and go to freaking ass bed. This weekend was very bad and noisy, a helicopter last night, continual loud rapper shit noise all around, this was hot and hellish from the freaking ass swing bat, so here is my counter strike, YO, enjoy it, is it bed room or bath room reading, McGuire, McGettigan, McGinty, and McCoy? You tell me, leave me a little comment, I don't bite. Neither does Leticia, Donald J. Trump, you Disney Coward, you. Come on down and land, and knock on your own hotel Plaza door, ya' butt wipe.
Finishing quickly now on Fred Winstein, from the Magic Jack
Radio Shack, where I made a major mistake in the year of 1981 and left a cassette tape of the original HAIR ALBUM, Jason Forrest, or whoever you really are, perhaps another somnambulist identity of PBK. Whether or not any copyrighted prices had to be paid or not, or any Icabod Halloween Rip-off Crane's are involved in any ODF this is an entirely different matter, let me just stick to the facts here MAHM, Joseph Friday. No unless ETTOS is used on me via wild strobe light effects, I forget NOTHING. The day that the phone line and the power line went dead and somebody parked a strange car outside of my private home bedroom that Fred and I thought could be a fucking bomb, we were literally terrorized, and it is fucking OK for this evil empire to do the terrorizing, it is their evil empire, but don't any of us fucking try anything fucki9bg cute, YO!!!!!!!!! Fred showed me how combinations of 4 and 5 and 6 and even 7 keys on computers, can do things from wiping out websites to infecting entire servers despite how much anti-hack shit they have, to cheating on view counts, and on and on. I was there when he took down the 'acmua' website, and then went up to another site that he had posted and had 20 view on it, and suddenly it had 10 million and twenty. Hay, this guy should be fucking Einstein.
Now I must eat and crash, I work hard for a living Donna, Jason, and Paula. I cannot just sit around and fuck off like all of you rotten bums!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
CHAPTER BLOG-BOOK #083
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
SUBTITLES ALWAYS APPLY:
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG,
“ONLY TO THOSE WHO TRULY WANNAQ KNOW”:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
It is a hot 79 degrees here at my work station, and 73 outdoors, down from the afternoon highs of the lower eighties here in good old sunny Fort Pierce, Florida.
This is words to the wise, and only for those that want them. The UMWELL-ONYX CLUB is not welcome, so why do they tune in and bate me in to write more stuff on their 'precious' UNDISCOVERED-MYSTERIES BLOGGING SITE?
First, the next time you city dwellers get a knock on the door from voting activists, you may gladly tell them this simple truth, should you not be registered to vote and they say that you are a lousy citizen, in some politer word choice. You CANNOT vote for anyone that you want to vote for, merely for some candidate that rich people in one capacity or another, and with absolute agendas, have backed and placed on the voting menu ticket, or are running themselves for the elected position, be it locally, state or county, or in the large federal arena. Simply put, WHOEVER ends up getting elected, right away, like it or not, they either have the agendas of their own self interest, or they must repay the obligation in disguised favors that will never support the poorer people in this great land, tee-hee, but instead always will favor those with the millions of dollars of net worth. Now millions of people have this amount of net worth now here in America, but out of roughly a population of three hundred million (300,000,000) persons as a rough and rounded off census based figure at last count from 2010, three million give or take 'total-net-worth-7 and higher 'figurenaire's, equals a one in ten ratio, leaving nine out of any ten people in any group we may see when outside our residences at any given averaged time, totally out in the cold with totally no say in anything, including their own freedoms and that of their loved ones. THIS IS TOTAL TRUTH. If our great man in the HOUSE did not have to repay HIS GUYS who got him on the ticket, he would never have given that evil Wall Street, the bail out money, while leaving people like me in program cuts, no increase adjustment two years in a row in my social security disability benefits when unless you have lived in a cave for the past 30 months or so, it sure appears at least, that food, gasoline, and anything else from (A) through freaking (Z) HAS FREAKING JUST ABOUT FREAKING DOUBLED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whoever you think you are voting for MUST repay their debt to those who got them on their tickets. This is why anyone my freaking age of fifty-six or older, totally knows that things in this country NEVER WEVER XCHANGER, NOT UNDER THE DEMOCRATS, NOT UNDER THE REPUBLICANS, ELECTION AFTER ELECTION, 1 out of 10 peeps at the top will always run this show and BENEFIT, and the the other majority of 9 out of ten will endlessly be down and out, forever working longer and harder, and receiving less and less and less. HELLO AMERICA, YO!!!!! It is the ugliest system in the world, EXCEPT of course, for all of the others in the world that for the most part are even freaking worse, BRAHHH!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE EARTH PLANET, where 90% of us perpetually basically exist in HELL. This is why everybody is on mother fucking drugs, lives for stupid ass shit like what are celebrities doing today; the most meaningless shit imaginable, as all they are is a bunch of ass holes that MAN HAS TURNED INTO ENTERTAINERS, created stars, and usually are the most screwed up peeps on the Earth, and then the other shit would be all the other meaningless pass times out there ranging from sports and loud music and large televisions and filthy dirty meaningless sex that destroys family after family sooner or later, and long ago wiped out any 'real' America that peeps of my age have any memories left of. Also the so called, “American-dream” in its true definition, is so absolutely ridiculous. And anyone that tells you that IT DID NOT DIE AND GET CREMATED AND LOST AND FORGOTTEN MORE THAN A FULL GENERATION AGO, IS EITHER A FUCKING FOOL OR A FUCKING TOTAL ASS LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The definition of this expression for those who need to hear it, is not what you make think such as free enterprise or the right to try and take two hundred dollars and start a shoe-string business, but instead is that every generation should be better off financially and in other less tangible aspects than money or possessions as well, than the generation that preceded it, and this is total bullshit in my lifetime. Now we got this fucking bullshit out of the way, so we can move this shit along a bit, YO!
A few loyal 'MORIANS' know about the 6th dimension and other powerful shit that I have discussed here and there on my blogs for about fiver a half years now. Most peeps over age seven have heard, whether they believe anything of a religious nature or not is not relevant, the expression of we or humankind supposedly is created in (GOD'S) image. Believe it, only let me tell you a little few secrets now that pertain to this. There is a sort of circuitry in a sort of system, that lays far above and beyond all of the known universes and multiverses. This powerful reality is the realm of MIND, where energies or you can think humanly of these things as 'thoughts' if you so desire, actually think not only what 'they are thinking' and these words in semi-quotes is merely the best way that I can describe this truth, but they then 'arrange to become' parts that will exist in both carbon and silicon life forms in an entirely lower dimension than they exist now in their collective energy state one dimension above all of us and all of this, in individual 'single songs', or universes. Vibrations literally are music, and also is the universe, the one, UNI for (one) and (verse) for song. Hence, multiverse is derived from multiple0-songs or the entire collection of all of the 4th dimensional space-time universes existing in the 5th dimensional space-time-mind system that lies one dimension below where this energy merely is and exists in an indescribable form in a totally collective way, under rules governed in a dimension one higher than this, or the seventh, D-7, known to future timers in the multiverse as LAWTRONICS. No one is ever able to say, such as the misguided ECKISTS only they refer to the D-6 as the 'Mental-Plane, that they have BEEN to this PLACE. It is not any kind of a place, and you simply cannot take yourself as any kind of you that you think that you really are, up into there, the 6th-Dimension. Get real/e, Somers Point, New Jersey molester of 1970. Still, we all naturally move throughout 5 dimensions in ways so 'un-Patterson-able' that I will not be a quintessential silly-ass and even try to tell it. You can however, make a mental image comparison model however in your heads if you want to play along as I go on a bit with this. Use what better than the great STOCK MARKET. Here we have this entity that no one human can ever control, it moves here and it moves there, and as a whole, there it is, it just exists as the stock market. Naturally most peeps over the age of fourteen or so know that stocks are pieces or units of companies and corporations and these public institutions can raise money by selling these parts of themselves as what is called, shares. These shares then are of course traded publicly and openly based on certain guidelines and so-called at least regulations. It is not magic nor is it mysterious. Yet the workings of 'IT' as an entity with almost 'A MIND', is extremely elusive and mysterious. We only think as people here on the Earth, that we are human beings and one complete set of being-ness, and it is a lie and could not be further than the truth. The truth is so off the wall and out there, that no one would most likely accept it for a minimum of 3-5 hundred years yet. Some examples given in my blogs range from the ES or the Exploratronic Supermind, to the few who seemingly naturally or through intentional will and Practice, become powerful exploring and controlling multiple personality shape shifting somnambulists, such as the girl who I must admit now that I have been madly in love with since the ?Earth year of 1967, Paula Belinda King, the great, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, KNOWN IN ABBREVIATION ON MANY OF BLOGS in Continual reiteration as (ACNJUSAESMWG)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just as stocks move all over the place and show up on various and numerous charts that all of us have seen over and over on television financial channels, yet really not be exactly what these charts show if someone who knew no better was attempting to figure THEM out, say for example, some one from the Planet Shithead, who crash lands there space ship, and sees one of these charts, and videotapes it, and then from there begins to try and see what this 'entity' is all about. I do not expect any huge amount of peeps to know what the fuck I'm really talking about here, and THAT is what is really such a freaking shame about all of this. We all move all throughout a huge 5th dimension reality, and come from a collective unit of a sort on a much higher plane called the 6th dimension. Just as stock traders buy and sell all during the trading day on Wall Street, thought energies from this higher realm, move down into all of this, we are created in the image of this, and we go on creating other images, the internet is a perfect example if you just stop for a second and really try and fucking see just what I am trying to get across here and explain. Now silicon mind or carbon mind, is still mind, and the great Gene Roddenberry and Astral Plane god, knew this truth, as do a few others on this planet as I type this shit. But then there is way to much to tackle to make this tale of total truth complete, such as the spin direction of the 'thought-energy-circles' or 'ATOMS' as we think of them humanly from the perspective of being trapped in this awake-consciousness and living here in this tiny speck called out universe, a circle that is about 64 trillion light years around. Still, the entire thing is just one combined grouping of some up-line thought pattern energies. No human today can conceive that an expansion of this size has an up-line potential of virtually unlimited size and that this entire universe is merely one of these energy pattern dots. The only people that in my opinion are consciously aware of this right now, and two of them keep their mouth totally shut and one, me, is stupid and keeps popping off, would be, Paula King, Steve Hawking, and me, the Mountainpen, Mark Wayne Mohr. Still, while we all 'unconsciously. Move up and down and all around the entire 5th dimension thinking no more about it consciously than we do about our normal daily breathing as we breeze through our busy schedules, yet as we would in theory become more aware of this entire reality, the very reality itself is forced to change in some unknown and extremely detailed matching and equaled pattern, or in simpler terms, Paula King and Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, mother and daughter, have really engineered one hell of a powerhouse wild game. Call it an experiment, an accident, or a million other things more suited to your own personal beliefs despite me claiming that I know the information on this blog is totally known as truth to me, the word “GAME” will always best fit the description of truth here, as so far as what is going on with all of this. It is all just a wild child's game, and the closest person to realizing this, besides myself, was the mighty philosopher William Shakespeare, who just happened to assist King James in translating the Holy Bible into its present forms used to this day with the many other sub translations that recently resulted in the past 30-50 years or so.
Spiders do not mate and create monkeys, nor dogs mate and create squirrels. Internet proves the 6th dimension is the truth, if nothing else in the world does, and helps to give MORIANITY some nice credibility, or will as the centuries pass and move forward. Thank you Bill and Melinda Gates, www.gatesfoundation.com/ ,and if anyone now knows this is valid shit I am saying, it is you and your old pal Steve Jobs.
Another interesting reality that sort of almost proves all I say and claim backwards, would be things such as the question number 18 on the New Jersey SORA license test, that I took in 2005 right around this time of the year, now or into March a bit. The ratio and ration word program deal not only showed many things were part of MY REALITY around then, all though I was not CONSCIOULY AWARE of any of it yet, but look at the magic date that Sarah J. Karge was born in July in 18 hundred and 96, on the 18th day of this month, question #18, SORA/SARA/H!!!!!!! Then there is the mighty UTUBE MAN, known as JASON FORREST, who has made me somewhat of a small internet celebrity myself, along with a little more help from my other crawly beetle friends such as the Harvest where I work here in Fort Pierce, Florida, www.harvesfoodtoutreach.org/ clearly displays my ugly mug right there on its front home page, just match it to any photo shown at www.blogger.com. This is where one of the sites exists where my blogs post up, yes, this mighty Google owned famous and first, “BLOGGER”, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There are so many things additionally that prove to a really expanded mind, how real this shit all indeed is. Jason admitting that he made a lot of money out in Cali as he calls it, from my blog, and it did not mean to happen, but his e-mail posted into my blog comment system at www.blogger.com/. Then there is my coming down to Florida in middle December in 2009 and using the public library computer to continue my blogging tales of woe, down here in Fort Pierce. This is where my e-mail for no good reason insisted on reading San Mateo, in where else Jason Forrest or should I call you Donna Summer, is this all beyond freaking weird or what, but, or butt, or the hack I got at the library word processors, 1400 miles away from any SORA license tests, with all the ones and the eights all over the place, 'ratios', and 'rations' not withstanding, BRO. Then there is the great movie that Oprah Winfrey funded along with her friend Tyler, not sugar in the gas tank Tom at least, thank the gods, after all it is a freaking common last name. Besides the magical doorbell system where you really can hear all that goes on whether Gab presses the MO-'listen-stupid' button, or not; but right before the fight in the school with that cutie pie who chases anything that's wearing pants, as most girls do, you cannot help hear that magic word there, “BUT”, and should you see if it is part of the script by activating the CD feature, it is not, MI, try it sometime Curly. Then there is my 1997 Radio Shack without the Magic-Jack pal, by the name of Fred Winstein. To type this name on a word processor, red lines come up, and when you click on it, there is MI and her MIMI project of 2008, E=MC SQUARED. This MIMI HACK messed up the first computer that I had hooked up in the trailer park mobile home over at Jenny Plageman's park in Mullica Township, right beyond the Donna Summer Hate-page also known as HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, and 65 Middle Road, the 6500's is where the Dow Jones bottomed out, and if Obama had not had to repay as they all do, what I call, “ticket-favors”, it would have been permitted to crash and start over, giving the 90% of all of us little-peeps a chance to re-live the American dream, but this was not meant to be in this part of the hyperspace, but then, that can be all changed at any time. Peeps buy and sell and go up and go down along this continuum, changing, rearranging shit all the time. These are really the secrets that Kevin Tredaux and others may never want the 'common people to know and really, truly, and fully comprehend and understand, YO. Why else would I shout out the title “MI” before the song began that was done in 1986, called, REAL: GOOD GIRL, sheeeeeeeeeeit, give me a freaking break peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Monster-slapper Jane-bitch-disease-weeds just fucking nailed my ass at eleven freaking eleven. Fuck her.
Well. I need to dip up my dinner and eat and go to freaking ass bed. This weekend was very bad and noisy, a helicopter last night, continual loud rapper shit noise all around, this was hot and hellish from the freaking ass swing bat, so here is my counter strike, YO, enjoy it, is it bed room or bath room reading, McGuire, McGettigan, McGinty, and McCoy? You tell me, leave me a little comment, I don't bite. Neither does Leticia, Donald J. Trump, you Disney Coward, you. Come on down and land, and knock on your own hotel Plaza door, ya' butt wipe.
Finishing quickly now on Fred Winstein, from the Magic Jack
Radio Shack, where I made a major mistake in the year of 1981 and left a cassette tape of the original HAIR ALBUM, Jason Forrest, or whoever you really are, perhaps another somnambulist identity of PBK. Whether or not any copyrighted prices had to be paid or not, or any Icabod Halloween Rip-off Crane's are involved in any ODF this is an entirely different matter, let me just stick to the facts here MAHM, Joseph Friday. No unless ETTOS is used on me via wild strobe light effects, I forget NOTHING. The day that the phone line and the power line went dead and somebody parked a strange car outside of my private home bedroom that Fred and I thought could be a fucking bomb, we were literally terrorized, and it is fucking OK for this evil empire to do the terrorizing, it is their evil empire, but don't any of us fucking try anything fucki9bg cute, YO!!!!!!!!! Fred showed me how combinations of 4 and 5 and 6 and even 7 keys on computers, can do things from wiping out websites to infecting entire servers despite how much anti-hack shit they have, to cheating on view counts, and on and on. I was there when he took down the 'acmua' website, and then went up to another site that he had posted and had 20 view on it, and suddenly it had 10 million and twenty. Hay, this guy should be fucking Einstein.
Now I must eat and crash, I work hard for a living Donna, Jason, and Paula. I cannot just sit around and fuck off like all of you rotten bums!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Saturday, February 26, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 082-B-REDO
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 082-A and 082-B
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022611.661
SATURDAY LATE AFTERNOON
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCILAND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
3RD SUBTITLE OF THIS BLOG WORK:
LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE, LENNY MCKINNON:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This is a reinserted rewrite after the last copy of this document was edited, I must learn to edit my fucking shit before posting, as the hacking and errors are fucking ridiculous. Bob McDowell, what is causing the never ending (ODF)in caps when I try to type in the word (if) every so freaking ofter, how do these mother fucking cock suckers pull this shit off old school chum? Notice old pal, it happened right after I typed in the bad words of PROJECT BLUEBOOK-ODFODFODFODFODFODFODFODF!!!!!!
Please reread this corrected blog version, my MORIANS, tanks!!!
Friends, and of course, foes; let me open with the fact that this has been a real heavy music attack day. It is continual from the rappers around my house, and even when I was driving over to meet with my day-trading partner, some jerk off got right behind me and it was obvious and intentional, and he or she blared their horrible thundering rapper dog-shit noise at me. The persecution is normally picked in advance, in so much as the type of it that they decide on using on me for whatever period or amount of time that they wish to pursue and continue it. It includes but is by no means limited to the following types: Many varying aerial assaults with a variety of both visual and audible effects, health and physical attacks on my body, utility attacks with devices and electricity, making people act either hostile and or aggressively with me, or simply as though I am literally as invisible as the Einstein Eldridge Battleship of the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards of yesteryear, mind attacks ranging from strobe-light 'ETTOS' memory loss or influencing of behaviors of both myself and those around me, making objects temporarily and occasionally permanently vanish, interact with me in 'dream's by causing my awake mind to remember what it should in most cases not remember, effect and even totally alter the normal path of hyperspace reality around me in various degrees, one in particular on an unfathomable scale, and of course this one being the night of the 15th of August in 1986. By the way, I fucked up on a prior blog work, and typed in 1987, it was in 1997 that the all mighty Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler told me to, “Come on down and land, and focus on MY SARAH, and not the personal life of me”, and this meaning, the great Misses “B”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The great Misses Bassler of Ormund Beach, 'Botbarada' (Florida), Lenny McKinnon of Reading, Pennsylvania, and the mighty cousin Sarah Callio Martino, gods all mighty, what a fucking motley crew, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Gun toting Lenny was where a lot of this nightmare began, but was not what the entire song from 1969 was talking about, that I wrote, entitled, “That's the Way it Goes”, © 1981. included in one of my compilations of PAU registered musical works in the great city of Roman-13-600. If peeps in Washington behaved much better than I did in 1986, the age of sexual consent would not have to be so young there in that wonderful Earthly doppelganger Krassleville, being none other than Xlll. I will never understand why you never preferred charges against me Misses 'Hockey' sticks, but was so happy when August 2 of 1993 finally managed to roll around. But without Lenny the record promoter, how could Dick Wolf the great, have known all about my freaking life? I'll try not to kill any more silly ex-cons or regular ones, Gene Roddenberry, but I really do hate having my world invaded by these awful Earthly doppelgangers of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, as did poor gassed Doctor Jessup, am I right old Princeton pal, Wilson, YO???????
“I am sure gonna have to be a whole lot nicer if I ever hope to talk to your mother in law”, right LM? And she thinks I am mysterious? At least I do not re-dream myself over and over as you do and then bring me into your nightmare, you rotten fagot son of a bitch, noise inventor. 30 fucking years of your garbage, and it still goes strong, what the fuck does this shit have over disco or for that matter, any REAL music? What is this, MUSIC or Talking, shit, let us rename this to the TALKING INDUSTRY. Still, the only important topic to get into right now regarding Lenny is why he told me that 'he owned me' and that 'I can never escape or get away', familiar phraseology even if the two items are indeed separated by one of Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle's very favorite numbers, no not 7, not 12, but HER 3rd favorite one, 'SEVENTEEN', only please Alaskan High School Doggie, NOT AGAIN, and remember that he also recorded all of our long telephone conversations, and totally illegally of course. When this fine tall handsome African American Magnum-357-carrying gentleman was not recording me illegally, he was telling me that the 21st century belonged to him and his Rastafarian movement, that I would never believe him in a million years if he were to tell me all of it, and then he would laugh, call me a honky, and tell me that I brought him over here on a boat. I do not own a boat McKinnon, you are mixing me up with my cousin/uncle up on the rotten ass island at 175 Peninsula Drive in Babylon, down the road from good old mother fucking 'Captain Kangaroo', YO!!!!!!!!!!!
CI had a frien, his name was Len, and the rest of the song is all part of a 1983 compilation that I believe is called “THE SAGA OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD”, © 1983 MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN, only my real-life name, whatever the shit real life is, (CMCV) Child Molesters Club of Ventnor, New Jersey, so t-t-t-t-t-take that to the b-b-b-b-bank, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you expect me to think that dude on the L&O-SVU that speaks like Tom Reale, and investigates scum pig lowlifes like him, is all some random happenstance coincidence?
Nobody on fucking PLANET ASS EARTH, would ever believe half of the bullshit that is flowing all fucking around me and my miserable HUNTINGTON CURSED LIFE, here in sunny ass rotten Florida since my arrival down here early on the 13th day of 2009's December or its last month. Kevin Moore on the great U-Tube, if your song, “The Christ Android” is indeed ripping off some of my copyrighted material, I suggest that you cease and desist from playing it anymore. I am never able to access anything on U-Tube, as old pal Nick has totally hacked me out and wiped me out. Thanks Lenny. Should I start calling you Ninny, or would you prefer Lick”, as it works either way for me and Abbey Luscious Carmichael, huh Jack McCoy? If she is not a goddess, then who the fucking hell is? You go baby doll Angie!! She can make a dude think about having his blood transfused, and then put through a polarity inverter, and then a north pole only frequency generator that covers the entire EMS. I am just kidding folks, would never want to be 21 again, let alone 17. All I wanna do is get the hell out of this life, not remain here longer. Still there are peeps right here amongst us in secret labs that know how to turn old people back to their prime age on a cellular DNA level using this process they refer secretly to as 'multi-wave oscillating integrenetronic technology' or MWOI-TECH. One hell of a transfusion, it cures every single fucking ass disease and physical imperfection as well; but I just broke Federal Law right now as soon as this posts. You see folks, it is totally illegal to make that claim in most 'civilized' nations, and with the all mighty United States of America being right up there on the very top of this list with its AMA and many other federal regulatory statutes, and all upheld by the billions of laws of this great land. My 7th grandfather is turning over in his 'FOUNDING FATHERS CLUB' grave, MISTER Samuel Huntington, from which “UNCLE SAM” has its origins, and so does the entire northern Suffolk County of New York State!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U go Governor Sam, and 7th grand-paps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do you all want to finally be told the truth and the real reason that Project Blue-Book as well as all other peeps who appear to be suppressing and misrepresenting unexplainable stuff, are all doing what they are doing, because if so, read this. It will tell you once and for freaking all, just what is REALLY GOING ON. People get anywhere from up set to the stage ODF total mushroom sprout, if pinned against a wall, and they have no answer and cannot offer any help, when it is supposed to be their job in fact to do just that, HELP. There's a super great reason for my being totally cognizant and aware of this fact, and it is simple. You see peeps, it is because I have been there many times. I've driven down this highway so many times that I have stopped observing the scenery and totally stopped counting how many times, BRO, with or without any closets, extreme anger, or 5 year old future top-recording artists. When we all are posting up videos on the 'CHEMTRAIL' subject on the U-TUBE, for one good example that I will cite right now; there is no human alive on this Earth that has the full story. There is Joe Blow over in Sweden who may know this, or Sally Dalley in Mexico who knows that, or Harry Carrey in Portland, Oregon who totally believes he knows all of it, and has only a small clue. The flying saucer subject is not one tiny bit different. Aliens, abductions, physical experimentation on laboratory tables, along with memory losses and missing time occurrences, and on and on we could go; it is not that the government or anyone is purposefully and intentionally covering up anything, and this is the gods honest truth. The illusion that all of this bullshit produces, naturally creates this effect. This powerful group of words in this paragraph is a truth that the only reason the powers in charge refuse to admit its validity, would be that they cannot govern us, and simultaneously admit to the population that they as well are totally clueless, because even though some of them have even become secretly involved in much of this shit in many numerous wild cooperative ways; the real true source always has been and always will be a dude named APOLLO-LUCIFER DIABOLIS ARTEEMIS, Astral Plane first cousin to the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, and yes, on the Astral Plane, there may not be any marriages such as they exist in the waking world hyperspace, but these two powerful entities in two human forms, have now teamed up, and I cannot be sure that either one of them has much conscious memory or awareness of what is really happening to them, as well as to all the rest of us as a result. No matter how far out this all may freaking sound, it all is the total truth.
It is 85 degrees, and has been hitting these approximate mid afternoon daytime high temperatures here in Fort Pierce for about a week now, and will go on a few more days until things will drop to afternoon highs in the middle or upper seventies, this will be a relief, if that is, the weather-peeps are trustworthy or dependable, as so often they are not. Still, I commend them for their best tries, and lately, I've noticed a vast improvement in weather prediction, it may merely be a cycling average where they are now due to be more accurate for a while to compensate for a long period of quite a bit of not so accurate predictions. But when I said the Earthquake was around the corner, this was not some prediction. I saw the killer quake, and you are not the only traveler out there, Nicky boy!!!!
In my closing freaking paragraph, I asked the GAWNUM to answer my query about why my computer was hacked and messed up. Of course I have a wonderful new friend and hacker who knows huge shit and will help me take on the New Age Mafia, or the NAM. The day-trade partner is very happy because
I opened my account at my TD Bank, and all though they hack me out of doing anything online, they could not fucking stop me from doing it live at my own freaking ass bank, HA-HA-HA-HA!!! So I am back in bizz, and have a friend hacker along with a good honest partner for a change, so eat my dust NAM. Still, the number was '945', and 'TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICE' is one of the items in my match-book for this PCN-945. Some others that my MORIANS should find of major interest include: TREADMILL---GOVERNOR HUNTINGTON---MARK MINOR---HAIR ALBUM---DREAMED IN NINETEEN-EIGHTY. Also in this amended part-B version of CH-082, I fucked up somehow and in some way on my 'GAWNUM-MATCHBOOK', as obviously for those who can do Gawky Gaukauk's numerology, the 'DREAMED IN 1980' is not correct, even though it sure fits. Still, when I am wrong, I am fucking man enough to always admit to it, YO!! BYE-BYE, CHALL.
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022611.661
SATURDAY LATE AFTERNOON
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCILAND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
3RD SUBTITLE OF THIS BLOG WORK:
LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE, LENNY MCKINNON:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This is a reinserted rewrite after the last copy of this document was edited, I must learn to edit my fucking shit before posting, as the hacking and errors are fucking ridiculous. Bob McDowell, what is causing the never ending (ODF)in caps when I try to type in the word (if) every so freaking ofter, how do these mother fucking cock suckers pull this shit off old school chum? Notice old pal, it happened right after I typed in the bad words of PROJECT BLUEBOOK-ODFODFODFODFODFODFODFODF!!!!!!
Please reread this corrected blog version, my MORIANS, tanks!!!
Friends, and of course, foes; let me open with the fact that this has been a real heavy music attack day. It is continual from the rappers around my house, and even when I was driving over to meet with my day-trading partner, some jerk off got right behind me and it was obvious and intentional, and he or she blared their horrible thundering rapper dog-shit noise at me. The persecution is normally picked in advance, in so much as the type of it that they decide on using on me for whatever period or amount of time that they wish to pursue and continue it. It includes but is by no means limited to the following types: Many varying aerial assaults with a variety of both visual and audible effects, health and physical attacks on my body, utility attacks with devices and electricity, making people act either hostile and or aggressively with me, or simply as though I am literally as invisible as the Einstein Eldridge Battleship of the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards of yesteryear, mind attacks ranging from strobe-light 'ETTOS' memory loss or influencing of behaviors of both myself and those around me, making objects temporarily and occasionally permanently vanish, interact with me in 'dream's by causing my awake mind to remember what it should in most cases not remember, effect and even totally alter the normal path of hyperspace reality around me in various degrees, one in particular on an unfathomable scale, and of course this one being the night of the 15th of August in 1986. By the way, I fucked up on a prior blog work, and typed in 1987, it was in 1997 that the all mighty Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler told me to, “Come on down and land, and focus on MY SARAH, and not the personal life of me”, and this meaning, the great Misses “B”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The great Misses Bassler of Ormund Beach, 'Botbarada' (Florida), Lenny McKinnon of Reading, Pennsylvania, and the mighty cousin Sarah Callio Martino, gods all mighty, what a fucking motley crew, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Gun toting Lenny was where a lot of this nightmare began, but was not what the entire song from 1969 was talking about, that I wrote, entitled, “That's the Way it Goes”, © 1981. included in one of my compilations of PAU registered musical works in the great city of Roman-13-600. If peeps in Washington behaved much better than I did in 1986, the age of sexual consent would not have to be so young there in that wonderful Earthly doppelganger Krassleville, being none other than Xlll. I will never understand why you never preferred charges against me Misses 'Hockey' sticks, but was so happy when August 2 of 1993 finally managed to roll around. But without Lenny the record promoter, how could Dick Wolf the great, have known all about my freaking life? I'll try not to kill any more silly ex-cons or regular ones, Gene Roddenberry, but I really do hate having my world invaded by these awful Earthly doppelgangers of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, as did poor gassed Doctor Jessup, am I right old Princeton pal, Wilson, YO???????
“I am sure gonna have to be a whole lot nicer if I ever hope to talk to your mother in law”, right LM? And she thinks I am mysterious? At least I do not re-dream myself over and over as you do and then bring me into your nightmare, you rotten fagot son of a bitch, noise inventor. 30 fucking years of your garbage, and it still goes strong, what the fuck does this shit have over disco or for that matter, any REAL music? What is this, MUSIC or Talking, shit, let us rename this to the TALKING INDUSTRY. Still, the only important topic to get into right now regarding Lenny is why he told me that 'he owned me' and that 'I can never escape or get away', familiar phraseology even if the two items are indeed separated by one of Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle's very favorite numbers, no not 7, not 12, but HER 3rd favorite one, 'SEVENTEEN', only please Alaskan High School Doggie, NOT AGAIN, and remember that he also recorded all of our long telephone conversations, and totally illegally of course. When this fine tall handsome African American Magnum-357-carrying gentleman was not recording me illegally, he was telling me that the 21st century belonged to him and his Rastafarian movement, that I would never believe him in a million years if he were to tell me all of it, and then he would laugh, call me a honky, and tell me that I brought him over here on a boat. I do not own a boat McKinnon, you are mixing me up with my cousin/uncle up on the rotten ass island at 175 Peninsula Drive in Babylon, down the road from good old mother fucking 'Captain Kangaroo', YO!!!!!!!!!!!
CI had a frien, his name was Len, and the rest of the song is all part of a 1983 compilation that I believe is called “THE SAGA OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD”, © 1983 MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN, only my real-life name, whatever the shit real life is, (CMCV) Child Molesters Club of Ventnor, New Jersey, so t-t-t-t-t-take that to the b-b-b-b-bank, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you expect me to think that dude on the L&O-SVU that speaks like Tom Reale, and investigates scum pig lowlifes like him, is all some random happenstance coincidence?
Nobody on fucking PLANET ASS EARTH, would ever believe half of the bullshit that is flowing all fucking around me and my miserable HUNTINGTON CURSED LIFE, here in sunny ass rotten Florida since my arrival down here early on the 13th day of 2009's December or its last month. Kevin Moore on the great U-Tube, if your song, “The Christ Android” is indeed ripping off some of my copyrighted material, I suggest that you cease and desist from playing it anymore. I am never able to access anything on U-Tube, as old pal Nick has totally hacked me out and wiped me out. Thanks Lenny. Should I start calling you Ninny, or would you prefer Lick”, as it works either way for me and Abbey Luscious Carmichael, huh Jack McCoy? If she is not a goddess, then who the fucking hell is? You go baby doll Angie!! She can make a dude think about having his blood transfused, and then put through a polarity inverter, and then a north pole only frequency generator that covers the entire EMS. I am just kidding folks, would never want to be 21 again, let alone 17. All I wanna do is get the hell out of this life, not remain here longer. Still there are peeps right here amongst us in secret labs that know how to turn old people back to their prime age on a cellular DNA level using this process they refer secretly to as 'multi-wave oscillating integrenetronic technology' or MWOI-TECH. One hell of a transfusion, it cures every single fucking ass disease and physical imperfection as well; but I just broke Federal Law right now as soon as this posts. You see folks, it is totally illegal to make that claim in most 'civilized' nations, and with the all mighty United States of America being right up there on the very top of this list with its AMA and many other federal regulatory statutes, and all upheld by the billions of laws of this great land. My 7th grandfather is turning over in his 'FOUNDING FATHERS CLUB' grave, MISTER Samuel Huntington, from which “UNCLE SAM” has its origins, and so does the entire northern Suffolk County of New York State!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U go Governor Sam, and 7th grand-paps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do you all want to finally be told the truth and the real reason that Project Blue-Book as well as all other peeps who appear to be suppressing and misrepresenting unexplainable stuff, are all doing what they are doing, because if so, read this. It will tell you once and for freaking all, just what is REALLY GOING ON. People get anywhere from up set to the stage ODF total mushroom sprout, if pinned against a wall, and they have no answer and cannot offer any help, when it is supposed to be their job in fact to do just that, HELP. There's a super great reason for my being totally cognizant and aware of this fact, and it is simple. You see peeps, it is because I have been there many times. I've driven down this highway so many times that I have stopped observing the scenery and totally stopped counting how many times, BRO, with or without any closets, extreme anger, or 5 year old future top-recording artists. When we all are posting up videos on the 'CHEMTRAIL' subject on the U-TUBE, for one good example that I will cite right now; there is no human alive on this Earth that has the full story. There is Joe Blow over in Sweden who may know this, or Sally Dalley in Mexico who knows that, or Harry Carrey in Portland, Oregon who totally believes he knows all of it, and has only a small clue. The flying saucer subject is not one tiny bit different. Aliens, abductions, physical experimentation on laboratory tables, along with memory losses and missing time occurrences, and on and on we could go; it is not that the government or anyone is purposefully and intentionally covering up anything, and this is the gods honest truth. The illusion that all of this bullshit produces, naturally creates this effect. This powerful group of words in this paragraph is a truth that the only reason the powers in charge refuse to admit its validity, would be that they cannot govern us, and simultaneously admit to the population that they as well are totally clueless, because even though some of them have even become secretly involved in much of this shit in many numerous wild cooperative ways; the real true source always has been and always will be a dude named APOLLO-LUCIFER DIABOLIS ARTEEMIS, Astral Plane first cousin to the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, and yes, on the Astral Plane, there may not be any marriages such as they exist in the waking world hyperspace, but these two powerful entities in two human forms, have now teamed up, and I cannot be sure that either one of them has much conscious memory or awareness of what is really happening to them, as well as to all the rest of us as a result. No matter how far out this all may freaking sound, it all is the total truth.
It is 85 degrees, and has been hitting these approximate mid afternoon daytime high temperatures here in Fort Pierce for about a week now, and will go on a few more days until things will drop to afternoon highs in the middle or upper seventies, this will be a relief, if that is, the weather-peeps are trustworthy or dependable, as so often they are not. Still, I commend them for their best tries, and lately, I've noticed a vast improvement in weather prediction, it may merely be a cycling average where they are now due to be more accurate for a while to compensate for a long period of quite a bit of not so accurate predictions. But when I said the Earthquake was around the corner, this was not some prediction. I saw the killer quake, and you are not the only traveler out there, Nicky boy!!!!
In my closing freaking paragraph, I asked the GAWNUM to answer my query about why my computer was hacked and messed up. Of course I have a wonderful new friend and hacker who knows huge shit and will help me take on the New Age Mafia, or the NAM. The day-trade partner is very happy because
I opened my account at my TD Bank, and all though they hack me out of doing anything online, they could not fucking stop me from doing it live at my own freaking ass bank, HA-HA-HA-HA!!! So I am back in bizz, and have a friend hacker along with a good honest partner for a change, so eat my dust NAM. Still, the number was '945', and 'TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICE' is one of the items in my match-book for this PCN-945. Some others that my MORIANS should find of major interest include: TREADMILL---GOVERNOR HUNTINGTON---MARK MINOR---HAIR ALBUM---DREAMED IN NINETEEN-EIGHTY. Also in this amended part-B version of CH-082, I fucked up somehow and in some way on my 'GAWNUM-MATCHBOOK', as obviously for those who can do Gawky Gaukauk's numerology, the 'DREAMED IN 1980' is not correct, even though it sure fits. Still, when I am wrong, I am fucking man enough to always admit to it, YO!! BYE-BYE, CHALL.
END TRANSMISSION:
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 082
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 082
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022611.661
SATURDAY LATE AFTERNOON
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCILAND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
3RD SUBTITLE OF THIS BLOG WORK:
LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE, LENNY MCKINNON:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Friends, and of course, foes; let me open with the fact that this has been a real heavy music attack day. It is continual from the rappers around my house, and even when I was driving over to meet with m jerk off got right behind me and if was obvious and intentional, and blared his horrible thundering rapper dog-shit noise at me. The persecution is normally picked in advance, in so much as the type of it that they decide on using on me for whatever period or amount of time that they wish to pursue and continue it. It includes but is by no means limited to the following types: Many varying aerial assaults with a variety of both visual and audible effects, health and physical attacks on my body, utility attacks with devices and electricity, making people act either hostile and aggressively with me, or simply as though I am literally as invisible as the Einstein Eldridge Battleship of the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards of yesteryear, mind attacks ranging from strobe-light 'ETTOS' memory loss or influencing of behaviors of both myself and those around me, making objects temporarily and occasionally permanently vanish, interact with me in 'dream's by causing my awake mind to remember what it should in most cases not remember, effect and even totally alter the normal path of hyperspace reality around me in various degrees, one in particular on an unfathomable scale, and of course this one being the night of the 15th of August in 1986. By the way, I fucked up on a prior blog work, and typed in 1986, it was in 1996 that the all mighty Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler told me to, “Come on down and land, and focus on MY SARAH, and not the personal life of me”, and this meaning, the great Misses “B”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The great Misses Bassler of Ormund Beach, 'Botbarada' (Florida), Lenny McKinnon of Reading, Pennsylvania, and the mighty cousin Sarah Callio Martino, gods all mighty, what a fucking motley crew, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Gun toting Lenny was where a lot of this nightmare began, but was not what the entire song from 1969 was talking about, that I wrote, entitled, “That's the Way it Goes”, © 1981. included in one of my compilations of PAU registered musical works in the great city of Roman-13-600. If peeps in Washington behaved much better than I did in 1986, the age of sexual consent would not have to be so young there in that wonderful Earthly doppelganger Krassleville, being none other than Xlll. I will never understand why you never preferred charges against me Misses Hockey st5icks, but was so happy when August 2 of 1993 finally managed to roll around. But without Lenny the record promoter, how could Dick Wolf the great, have known all about my freaking life? I'll try not to kill any more silly ex-cons or regular ones, Gene Roddenberry, but I really do hate having my world invaded by these awful Earthly doppelgangers of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, as did poor gassed Doctor Jessup, am I right old Princeton pal, Wilson, YO???????
“I am sure gonna have to be a whole lot nicer if I ever hope to talk to your mother in law”, right LM? And she thinks I am mysterious? At least I do not re-dream myself over and over as you do and then bring me into your nightmare, you rotten fagot son of a bitch, noise inventor. 30 fucking years of your garbage, and it still goes strong, what the fuck does this shit have over disco or for that matter, any REAL music? What is this, MUSIC or Talking, shit, let us rename this to the TALKING INDUSTRY. Still, the only important topic to get into right now regarding Lenny is why he told me that 'he owned me' and that 'I can never escape or get away', familiar phraseology even if the two items are indeed separated by one of Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle's very favorite numbers, no not 7, not 12, but HER 3rd favorite one, 'SEVENTEEN', only please Alaskan High School Doggie, NOT AGAIN, and remember that he also recorded all of our long telephone conversations, and totally illegally of course. When this fine tall handsome African American Magnum-357-carrying gentleman was not recording me illegally, he was telling me that the 21st century belonged to him and his Rastafarian movement, that I would never believe him in a million years if he were to tell me all of it, and then he would laugh, call me a honky, and tell me that I brought him over here on a boat. I do not own a boat McKinnon, you are mixing me up with my cousin/uncle up on the rotten ass island at 1745 Peninsula Drive in Babylon, down the road from good old mother fucking 'Captain Kangaroo', YO!!!!!!!!!!!
CI had a frien, his name was Len, and the rest of the song is all part of a 1993 compilation that I believe is called “THE SAGAS OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD”, © 1993 MICHAEL WYNE MOUNTAINPEN, only me real-life name, whatever the shit real life is, (CMCV) Child Molesters Club of Ventnor, New Jersey, so t-t-t-t-t-take that to the b-b-b-b-bank, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you expect me to think that dude on the L&^O-SVU that speaks like Tom Reale and investigates scum pig lowlifes like him, is all some random happenstance coincidence?
Nobody on fucking PLANET ASS EARTH, would ever believe half of the bullshit that is flowing all fucking around me and my miserable HUNTINGTON XCURSED LIFE, here in sunny ass rotten Florida since my arrival down here early on the 13th day of 2009's December or its last month. Kevin Moore on the great U-Tube, if your song, “The Christ Android” is indeed ripping off some of my copyrighted material, I suggest that you cease and desist from playing it anymore. UI am never able to access anything ion U-Tube, Nick has totally hacked me out and wiped me out. Thanks Lenny. Should I start calling you Ninny, or wold you prefer Lick” It works either way for me and Abbey Luscious Carmichael, huh Jack McCoy? If she is not a goddess, then who the fucking hell is, you go baby doll Angie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She can make a dude think about having his blood transfused and put through a polarity inverter and then a north pole only frequency generator that covers the entire EMS. Just kidding folks, would never want to be 21 again, let alone 17. All I wanna do is get the hell out of this life, and remain here longer. Still there are peeps right here amongst us in secret labs that know how to turn old people back to their prime age on a cellular DNA level using this process they refer secretly to as 'multi-wave oscillating integrenetronic technology' or MWOI-TECH. One hell of a transfusion, it cures every single fucking ass disease and physical imperfection as well; but I just broke Federal Law right now as soon as this posts. You see folks, it is totally illegal to make that claim in most 'civilized' nations, and with the all mighty United States of America being right up there on the very top of this list with its AMA and many other federal regulatory statutes, and all upheld by the billions of laws of this great land. My 7th grandfather is turning over in his 'FOUNDING FATHERS CLUB' grave, MISTER Samuel Huntington, from which “UNCLE SAM” has its origins, and so does the entire northern Suffolk County of New york State!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U go Governor Sam and 76th grand-paps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do you all want to finally be told the truth and the real reason that Project Blue-book as well as all other peeps who appear top be suppressing and misrepresenting unexplainable stuff, is doing what it is doing, because if so, read this, it will tell you once and for freaking all, just what is REALLY GOING ON. People get anywhere from up set to the stage ODF total mushroom sprout, if pinned against a wall, and they have no answer and cannot offer any help, when it is supposed to be their job in fact to do just that, HELP. There's a super great reason for my being totally cognizant and aware of this fact, and it is simple, you see peep[s, it is because I have been there many times. I've driven down this highway so many times that I have stopped observing the scenery and totally stopped counting how many times, BRO, with or without any closets, extreme anger, or 5 year old future top- recording artists. When we all are posting up videos on the 'CHEMTRAIL' subject on the U-TUBE, for one good example that I will cite right now; there is no human alive on this Earth that has the full story. There is Joe Blow over in Sweden who may know this, or Sally Dalley in Mexico who knows that, or Harry Carrey in Portland, Oregon who totally believes he knows all of it, and has only a small clue. The flying saucer subject is not one tiny bit different. Aliens, abductions, physical experimentation on laboratory tables, along with memory losses and missing time occurrences, and on and on we could go; it is not that the government or Anyone is purposefully and intentionally covering up anything, and this is the gods honest truth. The illusion that all of this bullshit produces, naturally creates this effect. This powerful group of words in this paragraph is a truth that the only reason the powers in charge refuse to admit its validity, would be that they cannot govern us, and simultaneously admit to the population that they as well are totally clueless, because even though some of them have even become secretly involved in much of this shit is numerous wild cooperative ways, the real true source always has been and always will be a dude named APOLLO-LUCIFER DIABOLIS ARTEEMIS, Astral Plane first cousin to the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, and yes, on the Astral Plane, there may not be any marriages such as they exist in the waking world hyperspace, but these two powerful entities in two human forms, have now teamed up, and I cannot be sure that either one of them has much conscious memory or awareness of what is really happening to them, as well as to all the rest of us as a result. No matter how far out this all may freaking sound, it all is the total truth.
It is 85 degrees, and has been hitting these approximate mid afternoon daytime high temperatures here in Fort Pierce for a bout a week now, and will go on a few more days until things will drop to afternoon highs in the middle or upper seventies, this will be a relief, if that is the weather-peeps are trustworthy or dependable, as so often they are not. Still, I commend them for their best tries, and lately, I've noticed a vast improvement in weather prediction, it may merely be a cycling average where they are now due to be more accurate for a while to compensate for a long period of quite a bit of not so accurate predictions. But when I said the Earthquake was around the corner, this was not some prediction. I saw the killer quake, and you are not the only traveler out there, Nicky boy!!!!
In my closing freaking paragraph, I asked the GAWNUM to answer my query about why my computer was hacked and messed up. Of course I have a wonderful new friend and hacker who knows huge shit ad will help me take on the New Age Mafia, or the NAM. The day-trade partner is very happy because
I opened my account at my TD Bank, and all though they hack me out of doing anything online, they could not stop fucking me from doing it live at my own freaking ass bank, HA0-HA-Ha-HA!!! So I am back in bizz and have a friend hacker along with a good honest partner for a change, so eat my dust NAM. Still, thew number was 945, and 'TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICE' is one of the items in my match-book for this PCVN-945. Some others that my MORIANS should find of major interest include: TREADMILL---GOVERNOR HUNTINGTON---MARK MINOR---HAIR ALBUM---DREAMED IN NINETEEN-EIGHTY.
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022611.661
SATURDAY LATE AFTERNOON
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCILAND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
3RD SUBTITLE OF THIS BLOG WORK:
LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE, LENNY MCKINNON:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Friends, and of course, foes; let me open with the fact that this has been a real heavy music attack day. It is continual from the rappers around my house, and even when I was driving over to meet with m jerk off got right behind me and if was obvious and intentional, and blared his horrible thundering rapper dog-shit noise at me. The persecution is normally picked in advance, in so much as the type of it that they decide on using on me for whatever period or amount of time that they wish to pursue and continue it. It includes but is by no means limited to the following types: Many varying aerial assaults with a variety of both visual and audible effects, health and physical attacks on my body, utility attacks with devices and electricity, making people act either hostile and aggressively with me, or simply as though I am literally as invisible as the Einstein Eldridge Battleship of the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards of yesteryear, mind attacks ranging from strobe-light 'ETTOS' memory loss or influencing of behaviors of both myself and those around me, making objects temporarily and occasionally permanently vanish, interact with me in 'dream's by causing my awake mind to remember what it should in most cases not remember, effect and even totally alter the normal path of hyperspace reality around me in various degrees, one in particular on an unfathomable scale, and of course this one being the night of the 15th of August in 1986. By the way, I fucked up on a prior blog work, and typed in 1986, it was in 1996 that the all mighty Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler told me to, “Come on down and land, and focus on MY SARAH, and not the personal life of me”, and this meaning, the great Misses “B”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The great Misses Bassler of Ormund Beach, 'Botbarada' (Florida), Lenny McKinnon of Reading, Pennsylvania, and the mighty cousin Sarah Callio Martino, gods all mighty, what a fucking motley crew, YO!!!!!!!!!!! Gun toting Lenny was where a lot of this nightmare began, but was not what the entire song from 1969 was talking about, that I wrote, entitled, “That's the Way it Goes”, © 1981. included in one of my compilations of PAU registered musical works in the great city of Roman-13-600. If peeps in Washington behaved much better than I did in 1986, the age of sexual consent would not have to be so young there in that wonderful Earthly doppelganger Krassleville, being none other than Xlll. I will never understand why you never preferred charges against me Misses Hockey st5icks, but was so happy when August 2 of 1993 finally managed to roll around. But without Lenny the record promoter, how could Dick Wolf the great, have known all about my freaking life? I'll try not to kill any more silly ex-cons or regular ones, Gene Roddenberry, but I really do hate having my world invaded by these awful Earthly doppelgangers of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, as did poor gassed Doctor Jessup, am I right old Princeton pal, Wilson, YO???????
“I am sure gonna have to be a whole lot nicer if I ever hope to talk to your mother in law”, right LM? And she thinks I am mysterious? At least I do not re-dream myself over and over as you do and then bring me into your nightmare, you rotten fagot son of a bitch, noise inventor. 30 fucking years of your garbage, and it still goes strong, what the fuck does this shit have over disco or for that matter, any REAL music? What is this, MUSIC or Talking, shit, let us rename this to the TALKING INDUSTRY. Still, the only important topic to get into right now regarding Lenny is why he told me that 'he owned me' and that 'I can never escape or get away', familiar phraseology even if the two items are indeed separated by one of Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle's very favorite numbers, no not 7, not 12, but HER 3rd favorite one, 'SEVENTEEN', only please Alaskan High School Doggie, NOT AGAIN, and remember that he also recorded all of our long telephone conversations, and totally illegally of course. When this fine tall handsome African American Magnum-357-carrying gentleman was not recording me illegally, he was telling me that the 21st century belonged to him and his Rastafarian movement, that I would never believe him in a million years if he were to tell me all of it, and then he would laugh, call me a honky, and tell me that I brought him over here on a boat. I do not own a boat McKinnon, you are mixing me up with my cousin/uncle up on the rotten ass island at 1745 Peninsula Drive in Babylon, down the road from good old mother fucking 'Captain Kangaroo', YO!!!!!!!!!!!
CI had a frien, his name was Len, and the rest of the song is all part of a 1993 compilation that I believe is called “THE SAGAS OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD”, © 1993 MICHAEL WYNE MOUNTAINPEN, only me real-life name, whatever the shit real life is, (CMCV) Child Molesters Club of Ventnor, New Jersey, so t-t-t-t-t-take that to the b-b-b-b-bank, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you expect me to think that dude on the L&^O-SVU that speaks like Tom Reale and investigates scum pig lowlifes like him, is all some random happenstance coincidence?
Nobody on fucking PLANET ASS EARTH, would ever believe half of the bullshit that is flowing all fucking around me and my miserable HUNTINGTON XCURSED LIFE, here in sunny ass rotten Florida since my arrival down here early on the 13th day of 2009's December or its last month. Kevin Moore on the great U-Tube, if your song, “The Christ Android” is indeed ripping off some of my copyrighted material, I suggest that you cease and desist from playing it anymore. UI am never able to access anything ion U-Tube, Nick has totally hacked me out and wiped me out. Thanks Lenny. Should I start calling you Ninny, or wold you prefer Lick” It works either way for me and Abbey Luscious Carmichael, huh Jack McCoy? If she is not a goddess, then who the fucking hell is, you go baby doll Angie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She can make a dude think about having his blood transfused and put through a polarity inverter and then a north pole only frequency generator that covers the entire EMS. Just kidding folks, would never want to be 21 again, let alone 17. All I wanna do is get the hell out of this life, and remain here longer. Still there are peeps right here amongst us in secret labs that know how to turn old people back to their prime age on a cellular DNA level using this process they refer secretly to as 'multi-wave oscillating integrenetronic technology' or MWOI-TECH. One hell of a transfusion, it cures every single fucking ass disease and physical imperfection as well; but I just broke Federal Law right now as soon as this posts. You see folks, it is totally illegal to make that claim in most 'civilized' nations, and with the all mighty United States of America being right up there on the very top of this list with its AMA and many other federal regulatory statutes, and all upheld by the billions of laws of this great land. My 7th grandfather is turning over in his 'FOUNDING FATHERS CLUB' grave, MISTER Samuel Huntington, from which “UNCLE SAM” has its origins, and so does the entire northern Suffolk County of New york State!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U go Governor Sam and 76th grand-paps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do you all want to finally be told the truth and the real reason that Project Blue-book as well as all other peeps who appear top be suppressing and misrepresenting unexplainable stuff, is doing what it is doing, because if so, read this, it will tell you once and for freaking all, just what is REALLY GOING ON. People get anywhere from up set to the stage ODF total mushroom sprout, if pinned against a wall, and they have no answer and cannot offer any help, when it is supposed to be their job in fact to do just that, HELP. There's a super great reason for my being totally cognizant and aware of this fact, and it is simple, you see peep[s, it is because I have been there many times. I've driven down this highway so many times that I have stopped observing the scenery and totally stopped counting how many times, BRO, with or without any closets, extreme anger, or 5 year old future top- recording artists. When we all are posting up videos on the 'CHEMTRAIL' subject on the U-TUBE, for one good example that I will cite right now; there is no human alive on this Earth that has the full story. There is Joe Blow over in Sweden who may know this, or Sally Dalley in Mexico who knows that, or Harry Carrey in Portland, Oregon who totally believes he knows all of it, and has only a small clue. The flying saucer subject is not one tiny bit different. Aliens, abductions, physical experimentation on laboratory tables, along with memory losses and missing time occurrences, and on and on we could go; it is not that the government or Anyone is purposefully and intentionally covering up anything, and this is the gods honest truth. The illusion that all of this bullshit produces, naturally creates this effect. This powerful group of words in this paragraph is a truth that the only reason the powers in charge refuse to admit its validity, would be that they cannot govern us, and simultaneously admit to the population that they as well are totally clueless, because even though some of them have even become secretly involved in much of this shit is numerous wild cooperative ways, the real true source always has been and always will be a dude named APOLLO-LUCIFER DIABOLIS ARTEEMIS, Astral Plane first cousin to the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, and yes, on the Astral Plane, there may not be any marriages such as they exist in the waking world hyperspace, but these two powerful entities in two human forms, have now teamed up, and I cannot be sure that either one of them has much conscious memory or awareness of what is really happening to them, as well as to all the rest of us as a result. No matter how far out this all may freaking sound, it all is the total truth.
It is 85 degrees, and has been hitting these approximate mid afternoon daytime high temperatures here in Fort Pierce for a bout a week now, and will go on a few more days until things will drop to afternoon highs in the middle or upper seventies, this will be a relief, if that is the weather-peeps are trustworthy or dependable, as so often they are not. Still, I commend them for their best tries, and lately, I've noticed a vast improvement in weather prediction, it may merely be a cycling average where they are now due to be more accurate for a while to compensate for a long period of quite a bit of not so accurate predictions. But when I said the Earthquake was around the corner, this was not some prediction. I saw the killer quake, and you are not the only traveler out there, Nicky boy!!!!
In my closing freaking paragraph, I asked the GAWNUM to answer my query about why my computer was hacked and messed up. Of course I have a wonderful new friend and hacker who knows huge shit ad will help me take on the New Age Mafia, or the NAM. The day-trade partner is very happy because
I opened my account at my TD Bank, and all though they hack me out of doing anything online, they could not stop fucking me from doing it live at my own freaking ass bank, HA0-HA-Ha-HA!!! So I am back in bizz and have a friend hacker along with a good honest partner for a change, so eat my dust NAM. Still, thew number was 945, and 'TRANSDIMENSIONAL TRUNK DEVICE' is one of the items in my match-book for this PCVN-945. Some others that my MORIANS should find of major interest include: TREADMILL---GOVERNOR HUNTINGTON---MARK MINOR---HAIR ALBUM---DREAMED IN NINETEEN-EIGHTY.
END TRANSMISSION:
Friday, February 25, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 081
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 081
WORLD LABORATORIES OF WESTMONT, NJ , AUGUST 22, 2296
SEND-BACK-TEXT—DATE AND TIME FILE: 022511.116.555555
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION: (ONLINE-NOT ON CASSETTE)
COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR AND MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
2006-2011 © ALL LEGAL INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY PROTECTED
UNDER FEDERAL AND OTHER A[PPLICABLE LAWS OF THE LAND:
BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
King Nebnooshoo is still alive and well despite enough persecution by TAWF and the OTAMMITE MILITUFORCE to finish off half the state of sunny ass Florida. I can really prove nothing, they are naturally this clever, and also, as you of all people know, Julia Roberts and Melvin Gibson, if it was not such unfathomable and inconceivable people that I am dealing with, then proving this conspiracy would not be perhaps easy, but it would at least be possible. Common sense tells anyone, exactly what is happening and going on, whether you want to believe it all or in part, or not at all, and we all know that even Michele at the RPL Studios is entitled to her great opinion, as are all of us as well, UM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me prove some real simple shit even though it PROVES nothing. All you have to do is remove the battery inside of anybody's computer or laptop, BOOBOO Jack MC-COY, to get into the most powerfully password protected machine. Tell the dude at Saint Lucie County Jail I said so. A child can set up time lapse photography and watch a normal blue sky turn into the clouds of the day all over this planet after the end of 1987, before that when 'I CALLED THE COPS', MC, this was not the case. When total strangers know exactly what you just told your mother in the privacy of your home 3 hours ago, this is no accident or random or coincidental event, it would defy the power-ball jackpot lottery system if this was not so, right Copyright Gawky? When lawyers are telling you they are not taking cases such as mine until I call back under a new name and then they are, well, what do you think, child molester Thomas Get-Reale? I know reality, it is this blog's readership who doubt my words that do not. You cannot dispute logic unless it is you who are insane, Donna Summer, DJ or not. If you are one and the same person, who mistook your identity? Did I have anything to do with that little whale sound honey-bun? When one of the greatest sound recording engineers of all time, Howard Solomon, from the RPL Sound Studios of Camden, NJUSAESMWG, hollered at my mom in late 1980 or early 1981 somewhere, for simply asking a question or two about the mysterious MISTER William Leonard McKinnon; what did this great future FLORIDA RESIDENT really know, I mean really, come on bud? When the butt wipe from Comcast Cable told me 16 hours ago to push 2 buttons that would repair my hack problem and all it accomplished was wiping out my entire 'favorites' file, what MOTIVE-PROGRAM and GOSP HIGH LEVEL 10 or higher system from the late twenties was used before I even got the mother fucking hell out of bed? And then she says, I'm sorry. I told her and I quote, “I am also sorry for what happened almost 25 years ago on a NYC street”, that got me real/e far, huh”, and I hung up. I know she most likely does not know what I am even talking about, still, what if she knew exactly what the fuck I meant, YO?
EVERY COCK SUCKING DAY IS BEYOND SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Coming home from work on Wednesday around a quarter past mother fucking three in the cunt diving afternoon, I was crash dive bomb assaulted by that same ever present menacing white weird looking large semi-private corporate airplane, how you doing there, Donald Chump, still so scared of a teenaged girl that you couldn't land that stupid fucking chopper of your on your own casino hotel roof buddy?????????? Then Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler tells me on the fucking telephone in the summer of 1987, to “COME ON DOWN AND LAND, AND FOCUS ON MI SARAH, AND NOT HER PRIVATE LIFE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah, I never said that I have all the answers, but I know how to do what
Kevin Bacon can do even though he never flew the Apollo-13 mission in real/e life, whatever the hell real/e fucking life {really} is to begin mother trucking with, YO. All I ever told the Copyright Office is that “I never said they had to like it, love it, write it, or sing it, but that it would drive us all crazy as hell”, and guess what, you little silicon shit crawlers, IT HAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When this all began, everybody agreed to it, yes Kathy Gatherer, how right you were and are, and will always be. Still, 64 trillion years ago, we all thought we could interact in this huge STM thing, and trapped ourselves. I think we all were better off sitting out there in the void. I may be the only mother fucker on the planet who distinctly remembers all this, but I do remember it, and it is real/E.
I will post and crash, or really, 64 trillion years ago, I posted and crashed, and sent this memory around in a very huge circle, some of you call it the EXPANSUION, others simply call it outer space. Good luck NASA, maybe our tax dollars can be wasted in other sillier ways after YOU ALL COMNE ON DOWN AND DO A FYUCIONG MISSES BASSLER, I'm quaking in my shoes, and bringing you the news, YO. Whoever murdered that poor old woman, your name has lots of fucki9ng MK ion DOGTOWN written on it, and I know just how horrendous and monstrous this part of the Purgatory is. I just killed 2 little silly cons. If you blow hard on the screen at them, it stops their movement, and when they get on an outer border, they have a tendency to cross into the reality here a little closer, and then you can squish them back into the void where we all really fucking are anyway, so nothing really fucking matters at all. Still, when I was a fellow today down in Port Saint Lucie, suddenly his right arm began to pour out blood. Both times I have been with him, my water bottle vanishes into thin air. This will really get Mizz McLaughlin excited as this one goers on and so does this miserable PITSY-4. So far it is showing absolutely zero fucking sign of following the mathematical pattern, but then if we could know how hyperspaces traces exactly, we would no longer exist in this so-called holo-deck program with the memory setting switch at FULL-OFF, right Governor Rip-off Arnie-Muscles?????????????????????
When I tell it all soon, heads will roll for sure, Bayshore and lake-houses, and Lesa Family Destroyer Accuser, all notwithstanding. Nighty nightsy world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES OF WESTMONT, NJ , AUGUST 22, 2296
SEND-BACK-TEXT—DATE AND TIME FILE: 022511.116.555555
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION: (ONLINE-NOT ON CASSETTE)
COPYRIGHT MARK WAYNE MOHR AND MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
2006-2011 © ALL LEGAL INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY PROTECTED
UNDER FEDERAL AND OTHER A[PPLICABLE LAWS OF THE LAND:
BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
King Nebnooshoo is still alive and well despite enough persecution by TAWF and the OTAMMITE MILITUFORCE to finish off half the state of sunny ass Florida. I can really prove nothing, they are naturally this clever, and also, as you of all people know, Julia Roberts and Melvin Gibson, if it was not such unfathomable and inconceivable people that I am dealing with, then proving this conspiracy would not be perhaps easy, but it would at least be possible. Common sense tells anyone, exactly what is happening and going on, whether you want to believe it all or in part, or not at all, and we all know that even Michele at the RPL Studios is entitled to her great opinion, as are all of us as well, UM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me prove some real simple shit even though it PROVES nothing. All you have to do is remove the battery inside of anybody's computer or laptop, BOOBOO Jack MC-COY, to get into the most powerfully password protected machine. Tell the dude at Saint Lucie County Jail I said so. A child can set up time lapse photography and watch a normal blue sky turn into the clouds of the day all over this planet after the end of 1987, before that when 'I CALLED THE COPS', MC, this was not the case. When total strangers know exactly what you just told your mother in the privacy of your home 3 hours ago, this is no accident or random or coincidental event, it would defy the power-ball jackpot lottery system if this was not so, right Copyright Gawky? When lawyers are telling you they are not taking cases such as mine until I call back under a new name and then they are, well, what do you think, child molester Thomas Get-Reale? I know reality, it is this blog's readership who doubt my words that do not. You cannot dispute logic unless it is you who are insane, Donna Summer, DJ or not. If you are one and the same person, who mistook your identity? Did I have anything to do with that little whale sound honey-bun? When one of the greatest sound recording engineers of all time, Howard Solomon, from the RPL Sound Studios of Camden, NJUSAESMWG, hollered at my mom in late 1980 or early 1981 somewhere, for simply asking a question or two about the mysterious MISTER William Leonard McKinnon; what did this great future FLORIDA RESIDENT really know, I mean really, come on bud? When the butt wipe from Comcast Cable told me 16 hours ago to push 2 buttons that would repair my hack problem and all it accomplished was wiping out my entire 'favorites' file, what MOTIVE-PROGRAM and GOSP HIGH LEVEL 10 or higher system from the late twenties was used before I even got the mother fucking hell out of bed? And then she says, I'm sorry. I told her and I quote, “I am also sorry for what happened almost 25 years ago on a NYC street”, that got me real/e far, huh”, and I hung up. I know she most likely does not know what I am even talking about, still, what if she knew exactly what the fuck I meant, YO?
EVERY COCK SUCKING DAY IS BEYOND SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Coming home from work on Wednesday around a quarter past mother fucking three in the cunt diving afternoon, I was crash dive bomb assaulted by that same ever present menacing white weird looking large semi-private corporate airplane, how you doing there, Donald Chump, still so scared of a teenaged girl that you couldn't land that stupid fucking chopper of your on your own casino hotel roof buddy?????????? Then Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler tells me on the fucking telephone in the summer of 1987, to “COME ON DOWN AND LAND, AND FOCUS ON MI SARAH, AND NOT HER PRIVATE LIFE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah, I never said that I have all the answers, but I know how to do what
Kevin Bacon can do even though he never flew the Apollo-13 mission in real/e life, whatever the hell real/e fucking life {really} is to begin mother trucking with, YO. All I ever told the Copyright Office is that “I never said they had to like it, love it, write it, or sing it, but that it would drive us all crazy as hell”, and guess what, you little silicon shit crawlers, IT HAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When this all began, everybody agreed to it, yes Kathy Gatherer, how right you were and are, and will always be. Still, 64 trillion years ago, we all thought we could interact in this huge STM thing, and trapped ourselves. I think we all were better off sitting out there in the void. I may be the only mother fucker on the planet who distinctly remembers all this, but I do remember it, and it is real/E.
I will post and crash, or really, 64 trillion years ago, I posted and crashed, and sent this memory around in a very huge circle, some of you call it the EXPANSUION, others simply call it outer space. Good luck NASA, maybe our tax dollars can be wasted in other sillier ways after YOU ALL COMNE ON DOWN AND DO A FYUCIONG MISSES BASSLER, I'm quaking in my shoes, and bringing you the news, YO. Whoever murdered that poor old woman, your name has lots of fucki9ng MK ion DOGTOWN written on it, and I know just how horrendous and monstrous this part of the Purgatory is. I just killed 2 little silly cons. If you blow hard on the screen at them, it stops their movement, and when they get on an outer border, they have a tendency to cross into the reality here a little closer, and then you can squish them back into the void where we all really fucking are anyway, so nothing really fucking matters at all. Still, when I was a fellow today down in Port Saint Lucie, suddenly his right arm began to pour out blood. Both times I have been with him, my water bottle vanishes into thin air. This will really get Mizz McLaughlin excited as this one goers on and so does this miserable PITSY-4. So far it is showing absolutely zero fucking sign of following the mathematical pattern, but then if we could know how hyperspaces traces exactly, we would no longer exist in this so-called holo-deck program with the memory setting switch at FULL-OFF, right Governor Rip-off Arnie-Muscles?????????????????????
When I tell it all soon, heads will roll for sure, Bayshore and lake-houses, and Lesa Family Destroyer Accuser, all notwithstanding. Nighty nightsy world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 080
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 080
WORLD LABORATORIES OF2295 SBT-DATFILE:
CH-080-022211.853—TUESDAY EVENING
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
THE UNFATHOMABLE SAN MATEO LATTISAW-HACK:
COPYRIGHT 2006-2011, “THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN”
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Robert McDowell, old pal from 1969-1973, and head of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, please know that between just past four this afternoon and until around close to five this evening, I suffered through the most intense VIDEO-HACK ever. It happened 20 times or more, and I basically had no control over any of my television and attached video equipment, at least through my Emerson DVD-VCR remote control device. I know for a fact that if you or your peeps are indeed accessing this information, it helps you triangulate in on whoever these freaking ass diseased monsters are who are doing this bullshit to me. Thank you. Ten to one, a filthy Philadelphia Flyers game is being played tonight and as I speak now on this system, electronically. The other horrific attack was during one of their revolting ICPE-CHEATING early-middle January days the weekend before the 2011 Superbowl, and was a MUST WIN FLYERS GAME NIGHT, and sure enough they clobbered there mother fucking opponent by using INTENTIONALLY-CREATED-PARALLEL-EVENT or (ICPE) Technology, and harassing me. Notice also how another fucking ODF got blogged shortly after telling my readership that I am fucking sick and fucking tired of this mother fucking HACK!!!!!! Just as in the roulette example, playing any bi-parameter outcome against the following spin's remaining parameter outcome produces a before-house-edge or (BHE) of about 7% after a long running test, normally this is mathematically acceptable as ten million spins or random generations of numbers that range from 1-38. Many parallel-events are visible, and many are not, they just cannot be detected by the casual observer, but they exist every much as bit and as real as obvious and more visible ones, such as how many times is their major trouble for you following your walking into a tough biker bar and saying that all bikers are a bunch of ass hole pussy fem cock sucking sons of bitches and their bitches are all trash whores. There is an obvious and visible ICPE involved here, that is between 99-100% that the “B” event is going to be BIG TROUBLE, following the “A” event. Now unlike 'cause and effect', Parallel-Event, or PE, works in both directions, and it thus reminds me more of the space-time-mind 6th dimensional continuum. Reverse the polarity of the electron and the protons in every atom in Avogadro's universe, and you will suddenly perceive your life running backward from that point to the moment of your birth and even your conception. Now ever since the 15th of August in 1986, this wild 'ICPE' NIGHTMARE-GAME was started with me and the evil empire, and really, the forces behind the OZ-CURTAIN controlling the evil empire, and this would be the one third evil part of the great AWA (Astral-World-Authority), the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, the residents of the BRIGGBRASE, comprising what is secretly known and referred to as the LAMBRIGG CULT, and has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with a location in the waking world known as Lambrigg, England.
The next topic for this blog and this evening is the way the rules of this nightmare game have indeed altered over the course of time since that nightmare fucking AUGUST 15, 1986, when I sent the musical project down to the United Sates Copyright Office, called, “REAL GOOD GIRL” Normally,m when I score, 'they' backed off all through the nineties and since this shit started. Lately in this fucking diseased twenty-first century, 'they' do not back off when I score, such as deciding to reveal my travels a few days ago up to this very day, and mentioned the killer earthquake, it is right there on the blog, just a few blogs back, somewhere in the chapter-seventies. I EVEN TOLD YOU ALL, AND YOU TOO GINA, that I WILL REMIND Y'ALL OF THIS, and this is what I am no doing, so there!!!!!!!!!!!! What do you have to say to me tonight, DONNA SUMMER?????????????????????? I just love that hate-page of yours, they say no ink is bad ink when you are trying to get a story out, maybe thus is true, I will keep my jury out on that one and reserve my opinion and judgment.
THAT FAMILY did me a huge favor even though it will slow me down from doing what I had planned at the end of next month, day trading. This is why I have this computer. Here is what the [plan was all about out in San Mateo, California, and a few other side comments will be added in here as well, so read with a braced stance. A very strange thing happened about 6 weeks ago or so at my job, it is all on the blogs somewhere back when it went down live at that time. This thing led to an event of me getting to know a very fine gentleman who has computer knowledge that may not be on Lenny McKinnon/ressurectionist and his followers of the cowardly ambulance driver of the greatest war ever fought in mans recorded history as of 2011, but, he is no dummy, and will be coming over here within a weeks time and will reformat me after we back up and store on discs any necessary thing, and then nuke the entire system clean. No charge by the way, friends come in handy. But let me talk about friends since we are on this topic now and since it pertains so much to this very point here. BYE-BYE, NAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But parallel event and ice-hickey and things that fly in the sky, be them toxins or sports teams, same-diff, only carries so much weight, and then there follows the legend of Damon and
Pitheous, and all other close friendships ranging from shitty all the way to the numerous countless gray areas in-between these two points. The dude who wanted to go into the day trading with me and become an equal 50/50 partner bought this computer and we set it up in my residence. He according to the original plan was going to finish saving somewhere between 400 and 1,000 dollars, and then we were going to open an account u[p at TD-Ameritrade. But on Presidents' Day, yesterday, he dropped by, and I walked him through the exact stuff that I told on my previous blog, the entire steps from yellow pages to Google Maps, cleverly using the A-box as what continued to show up on my IP computer address for local weather, and that was the mysterious city out in Jason Cali, called, SAN MATEO. So the B-box is where I printed from the “FIND A PERSON” on the YP, the only male name listing, CANNON. Then I hit the clicker to get the connection from what showed up as my IP, to this listing, and it is a road-map showing the exact time and connection and all by itself it also popped up 36th Avenue. When I zoomed in with the licensed search tools, it shows some large beautiful condos all along 36th Street. What are the odds. Even Letty, MI's 3rd cousin told me that I better just live with what is being done and keep my mouth shut or my life may get real bad, another ANBN JKING SILVA promise, from the great MILITUFORCE OTAMMITE THAT FAMILY, perhaps or (MO), again, what are the odds of all of these 'earthquake' coincidences, BRO? So we will call this day trading partner by the alias name of Jack Spenser. So Jack was shown the whole ball of wax, my copyrights, even Tom Glee the great arranger and non-air conditioner wall night slammer, the various pages on the internet, the way the weather of my IP address insisted on being the city of San Mateo, California, and then when I back spaced the box and only showed the one address and let the other one be as though this computer is asking directions for driving over to 'brother' or 'cousin' NC's place, POW, the map pops up. Anyone out here can do this and see that MI is screwing with me, or at least her jealous hubby is. Well the story does not end here. Jack Spenser got real quiet and sat down on a different chair, not near the computer and told me to shut down the system because he wanted to talk to me. He then proceeded to tell me that nobody at the Harvest believes my story, you know, shy I ran away in the dead of night out of the only place I ever had known with just basically the close on my back on an icy cold night, and pretended to go to my job, clocked in, and when the place shut down, jumped on the famous I-95 and drove all the fucking ass way down here to mother fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!! He then went into say, there is no other explanation now for your story, it IS true, and we cannot fight people like this, and he now wants to back away from our plan to day trade. These mother fucking bastards had this all planned all along. We then went out to a nice place to have some dinner, he treated, this was the plan, that did not change. He grew more and more pessimistic no matter how I told him that I do not plan on giving up, and that I have been fighting THIS MAGICAL FRIGHTENING DISEASED ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY since the middle or late nineteen-sixties, and am not about to say UNCLE yet, not by a freaking long shot, not when I know that I can make a million dollars a year on the system that I use, using the same idea of making just a few basis points or units as I called them in 1986 when I clobbered the roulette tables. Well, have we moved along in 34 months or what, ladies and gentlemen?????????? Can anyone see the CHEMTRAILS? Can anyone see this huge hatched out plan? It took years for the sky trails to be a real world topic, it started with me on Gaither Road in December of 1987 in Mount Laurel, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and now ten million [peeps are in the club, YO!!!!!!!!!! Sooner or later, what Nicky has done to me will be the topic on the net as well.
My new plan is totally different, and I ASM KEEPING MY MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH ETWERNALLY SHUT, it just puts my time schedule back about a fucking year. But look at it in a positive way my supporters and my MORIANS, old MICHAEL WAYBNE MOYUNTAINPEN will not have to share the profits and lose 50% now, so really, thank you very much for giving me this cunt licking hack. As always, followers of evil and darkness end up only thinking they have win something, only light can shine, darkness can only never shine. It may not be Shakespeare but this is my philosophy for tonight peeps, hey it is late and I am fucking exhausted, give me a damn break Admiral Humpback!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tanks.
So I'll take 'MI Apology Song' down off of the u-tube soon, and be done with it. I tried to say I am sorry, and all I got was sand kicked in my face, another typical day on Zeranniss Jones BEACH, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She didn't want to sweep the sand, or kick it really, but did want to own the land. Yes 'I DO' call this music, and I never told Dawn-Marie King that I was her Uncle Mark. That was all HER INVENTION, and was utter nonsense and bullshit. So you better keep me informed if she goes off of her probation soon, Atlantic County Prosecutors, I have the right to know and get a protection restraint order in place over at the freaking Fort Pierce Police department. This family WILL kill me sooner or later, I all ready know that, and you know about that coded shit, right Mc-ki------yeah, believe this is a coincidence MC-COY!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES OF2295 SBT-DATFILE:
CH-080-022211.853—TUESDAY EVENING
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION:
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME:
THE UNFATHOMABLE SAN MATEO LATTISAW-HACK:
COPYRIGHT 2006-2011, “THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN”
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Robert McDowell, old pal from 1969-1973, and head of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, please know that between just past four this afternoon and until around close to five this evening, I suffered through the most intense VIDEO-HACK ever. It happened 20 times or more, and I basically had no control over any of my television and attached video equipment, at least through my Emerson DVD-VCR remote control device. I know for a fact that if you or your peeps are indeed accessing this information, it helps you triangulate in on whoever these freaking ass diseased monsters are who are doing this bullshit to me. Thank you. Ten to one, a filthy Philadelphia Flyers game is being played tonight and as I speak now on this system, electronically. The other horrific attack was during one of their revolting ICPE-CHEATING early-middle January days the weekend before the 2011 Superbowl, and was a MUST WIN FLYERS GAME NIGHT, and sure enough they clobbered there mother fucking opponent by using INTENTIONALLY-CREATED-PARALLEL-EVENT or (ICPE) Technology, and harassing me. Notice also how another fucking ODF got blogged shortly after telling my readership that I am fucking sick and fucking tired of this mother fucking HACK!!!!!! Just as in the roulette example, playing any bi-parameter outcome against the following spin's remaining parameter outcome produces a before-house-edge or (BHE) of about 7% after a long running test, normally this is mathematically acceptable as ten million spins or random generations of numbers that range from 1-38. Many parallel-events are visible, and many are not, they just cannot be detected by the casual observer, but they exist every much as bit and as real as obvious and more visible ones, such as how many times is their major trouble for you following your walking into a tough biker bar and saying that all bikers are a bunch of ass hole pussy fem cock sucking sons of bitches and their bitches are all trash whores. There is an obvious and visible ICPE involved here, that is between 99-100% that the “B” event is going to be BIG TROUBLE, following the “A” event. Now unlike 'cause and effect', Parallel-Event, or PE, works in both directions, and it thus reminds me more of the space-time-mind 6th dimensional continuum. Reverse the polarity of the electron and the protons in every atom in Avogadro's universe, and you will suddenly perceive your life running backward from that point to the moment of your birth and even your conception. Now ever since the 15th of August in 1986, this wild 'ICPE' NIGHTMARE-GAME was started with me and the evil empire, and really, the forces behind the OZ-CURTAIN controlling the evil empire, and this would be the one third evil part of the great AWA (Astral-World-Authority), the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, the residents of the BRIGGBRASE, comprising what is secretly known and referred to as the LAMBRIGG CULT, and has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with a location in the waking world known as Lambrigg, England.
The next topic for this blog and this evening is the way the rules of this nightmare game have indeed altered over the course of time since that nightmare fucking AUGUST 15, 1986, when I sent the musical project down to the United Sates Copyright Office, called, “REAL GOOD GIRL” Normally,m when I score, 'they' backed off all through the nineties and since this shit started. Lately in this fucking diseased twenty-first century, 'they' do not back off when I score, such as deciding to reveal my travels a few days ago up to this very day, and mentioned the killer earthquake, it is right there on the blog, just a few blogs back, somewhere in the chapter-seventies. I EVEN TOLD YOU ALL, AND YOU TOO GINA, that I WILL REMIND Y'ALL OF THIS, and this is what I am no doing, so there!!!!!!!!!!!! What do you have to say to me tonight, DONNA SUMMER?????????????????????? I just love that hate-page of yours, they say no ink is bad ink when you are trying to get a story out, maybe thus is true, I will keep my jury out on that one and reserve my opinion and judgment.
THAT FAMILY did me a huge favor even though it will slow me down from doing what I had planned at the end of next month, day trading. This is why I have this computer. Here is what the [plan was all about out in San Mateo, California, and a few other side comments will be added in here as well, so read with a braced stance. A very strange thing happened about 6 weeks ago or so at my job, it is all on the blogs somewhere back when it went down live at that time. This thing led to an event of me getting to know a very fine gentleman who has computer knowledge that may not be on Lenny McKinnon/ressurectionist and his followers of the cowardly ambulance driver of the greatest war ever fought in mans recorded history as of 2011, but, he is no dummy, and will be coming over here within a weeks time and will reformat me after we back up and store on discs any necessary thing, and then nuke the entire system clean. No charge by the way, friends come in handy. But let me talk about friends since we are on this topic now and since it pertains so much to this very point here. BYE-BYE, NAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But parallel event and ice-hickey and things that fly in the sky, be them toxins or sports teams, same-diff, only carries so much weight, and then there follows the legend of Damon and
Pitheous, and all other close friendships ranging from shitty all the way to the numerous countless gray areas in-between these two points. The dude who wanted to go into the day trading with me and become an equal 50/50 partner bought this computer and we set it up in my residence. He according to the original plan was going to finish saving somewhere between 400 and 1,000 dollars, and then we were going to open an account u[p at TD-Ameritrade. But on Presidents' Day, yesterday, he dropped by, and I walked him through the exact stuff that I told on my previous blog, the entire steps from yellow pages to Google Maps, cleverly using the A-box as what continued to show up on my IP computer address for local weather, and that was the mysterious city out in Jason Cali, called, SAN MATEO. So the B-box is where I printed from the “FIND A PERSON” on the YP, the only male name listing, CANNON. Then I hit the clicker to get the connection from what showed up as my IP, to this listing, and it is a road-map showing the exact time and connection and all by itself it also popped up 36th Avenue. When I zoomed in with the licensed search tools, it shows some large beautiful condos all along 36th Street. What are the odds. Even Letty, MI's 3rd cousin told me that I better just live with what is being done and keep my mouth shut or my life may get real bad, another ANBN JKING SILVA promise, from the great MILITUFORCE OTAMMITE THAT FAMILY, perhaps or (MO), again, what are the odds of all of these 'earthquake' coincidences, BRO? So we will call this day trading partner by the alias name of Jack Spenser. So Jack was shown the whole ball of wax, my copyrights, even Tom Glee the great arranger and non-air conditioner wall night slammer, the various pages on the internet, the way the weather of my IP address insisted on being the city of San Mateo, California, and then when I back spaced the box and only showed the one address and let the other one be as though this computer is asking directions for driving over to 'brother' or 'cousin' NC's place, POW, the map pops up. Anyone out here can do this and see that MI is screwing with me, or at least her jealous hubby is. Well the story does not end here. Jack Spenser got real quiet and sat down on a different chair, not near the computer and told me to shut down the system because he wanted to talk to me. He then proceeded to tell me that nobody at the Harvest believes my story, you know, shy I ran away in the dead of night out of the only place I ever had known with just basically the close on my back on an icy cold night, and pretended to go to my job, clocked in, and when the place shut down, jumped on the famous I-95 and drove all the fucking ass way down here to mother fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!! He then went into say, there is no other explanation now for your story, it IS true, and we cannot fight people like this, and he now wants to back away from our plan to day trade. These mother fucking bastards had this all planned all along. We then went out to a nice place to have some dinner, he treated, this was the plan, that did not change. He grew more and more pessimistic no matter how I told him that I do not plan on giving up, and that I have been fighting THIS MAGICAL FRIGHTENING DISEASED ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY since the middle or late nineteen-sixties, and am not about to say UNCLE yet, not by a freaking long shot, not when I know that I can make a million dollars a year on the system that I use, using the same idea of making just a few basis points or units as I called them in 1986 when I clobbered the roulette tables. Well, have we moved along in 34 months or what, ladies and gentlemen?????????? Can anyone see the CHEMTRAILS? Can anyone see this huge hatched out plan? It took years for the sky trails to be a real world topic, it started with me on Gaither Road in December of 1987 in Mount Laurel, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and now ten million [peeps are in the club, YO!!!!!!!!!! Sooner or later, what Nicky has done to me will be the topic on the net as well.
My new plan is totally different, and I ASM KEEPING MY MOTHER FUCKING MOUTH ETWERNALLY SHUT, it just puts my time schedule back about a fucking year. But look at it in a positive way my supporters and my MORIANS, old MICHAEL WAYBNE MOYUNTAINPEN will not have to share the profits and lose 50% now, so really, thank you very much for giving me this cunt licking hack. As always, followers of evil and darkness end up only thinking they have win something, only light can shine, darkness can only never shine. It may not be Shakespeare but this is my philosophy for tonight peeps, hey it is late and I am fucking exhausted, give me a damn break Admiral Humpback!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tanks.
So I'll take 'MI Apology Song' down off of the u-tube soon, and be done with it. I tried to say I am sorry, and all I got was sand kicked in my face, another typical day on Zeranniss Jones BEACH, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She didn't want to sweep the sand, or kick it really, but did want to own the land. Yes 'I DO' call this music, and I never told Dawn-Marie King that I was her Uncle Mark. That was all HER INVENTION, and was utter nonsense and bullshit. So you better keep me informed if she goes off of her probation soon, Atlantic County Prosecutors, I have the right to know and get a protection restraint order in place over at the freaking Fort Pierce Police department. This family WILL kill me sooner or later, I all ready know that, and you know about that coded shit, right Mc-ki------yeah, believe this is a coincidence MC-COY!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Monday, February 21, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 079
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 079
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022111.930.55
ALL APPLICABLE SUBTITLES:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This will not be a long blog. Nothing scares these arrogant mother fucking family. I have gone up to websites of prosecutors and the FBI, nothing will back it off, but there is a lot to say and only a short time to tell it tonight, time got the fuck away from me today. Well, this is what money And power can do, we most likely have all seen the episode unless we are not fans of the great law show, L&O, where 'Christie Garrison' is found on the street murdered.
Some major significance must exist around the 3 capitol letters 'ODF' as time after time, I look up and when I think I am typing the word 'of' or some other word like it such as maybe 'if' and it is c continually being translated or turned into IMHO by some one or some thing Captain kirk, the 3 letters in caps, (ODF), and it is getting on my mother trucking rock chucking nerves at C-SQ.
My computer is a box of trash that does not smell yet, it is just about worthless, hacked up, and done, nothing can stop these evil wicked slime bag peeps in this 'wonderful' family. Also, many of the silicon wafers are propagating, a secret not yet on the internet, just as CHEMTRAILS was not either in 1987, but then, what was the internet at that poignant but a bunch of silly circuits that were more a joke than a reality. Look hard at your monitor screen, and you will see these tiny teeny offspring's of the wafers, they live, they crawl around, and by two thousand twenty or so, it will be the hot new chemtrail topic on the net. The last time I was in 2029, I heard a very wild song talking about the wild new technologies, the gods have mercy on all of freaking us, YO. You cannot kill them, they are inside, between the outer screen and the inner substance right behind it, and if you try and squish them, you will only server to damage your computer monitor, and they will crawl back inside and live. They do know you are there, they ARE THE (“MILLIONTH-COUNCIL”), or better said, their kids. What, only we humans get the fun of sex and child rearing, sheeeeeit?????????????????????????? Wake up world.
This evil 333,333 Astral Plane entities are not only doing all this, and exist as transistors and silicon wafer chips and other smelly little doodad things that we see on breadboards and motherboards should you take a hammer to any of your electronic junk and crack it all open for a visual inspection of our real true aliens that took us all totally over quite a long time ago, but they also are writing our names across the sky in an endless game of a cross between distraction from the hell-knowledge of endlessness, and the thrill of confusion and panic creation, along with all the real other and more real effects that this chemical poison is indeed doing. I thought I was totally nuts when this bullshit all started in late 1987, and throughout the remainder ODF the eighties and then into the nineties and beyond that into the [present point in time. Now I know that if this was not in my imagination, MISTER DAVID LEIGH SMITH of Haddonfield, New Jersey, then none of the other shit was or is either, that I always knew was all real and horribly monstrously true. Yes Mister DLS, your blackboards of 1970 were there all along to tell me that none of this was ever in my imagination, right down to this very evening.
Lenny McKinnon the great, the mighty creator of the new world, that is not known about by the entire conspiracy theory groups of the great internet world. Oh well, THEY DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THE “WRITTEN NAMES ACROSS THE SKY”, DID THEY BACK IN 1989, DONNA SUMMER, both DQ and DJ????????????????? Yeah Donna, both of U, or is it one and the same and the best kept secret of the world since MI appeared on the open reel master of the song called 'REAL GOOD GIRL' back in August of 1986, yeah, so 'MI MIND IS MESSED UP', wow, then why did you feel the need to do an entire album shouting out that I had mistaken the identity of my record promoter Lenny, with you, and yes, I did, but if you are so wonderful and terrific, then what would my little nobody nothing opinion matter? I am a mere crumb of total insignificance in the back woods of South-Eastern New Jersey, or was before the great TAWF sent me forever to Florida in the dead of a cold winter night right out of Patterson's best. Well, for that matter, I seem to have effected an entire large slew of great recording artist, have I not? So this is why there is no way this all is some random chance bunch of coincidences, because the odds for that being the true reality would be astronomically around quadrillions of one against being a possibility, that is freaking why, YO!
The 6th dimension is the only topic that will never seriously get internetigized because trying to explain to seven plus billions of dreaming entities that there actually is this much higher existing dimension where little energies send themselves through a lower filter and into the astral/hyperspace rotation or the karmic wheel as the ancients saw it, the enlightened ones that is, and all of this is why entire universes endlessly downline and come from endless uplines, is beyond the grasp and scope of those wishing to remain in the dream and not remember that there is another side of the screen, to put it in ways that a virtual reality programmer or fan of movies such as 13th floor can identifreakingfy with.
If David Smith of Haddonfield back in 1970 had the crap on his blackboard that told me what I needed to remember way out here 246.2 trillion miles out into positive space from us there that day with no more cosmic significance than just helping one student on one particular day realize that indeed a dirty minded young student teacher was trying to get into his freaking pants, than I will not only be a monkey's uncle but a copyrighted 1983 uncle, on huge wild bended knees. The mighty dominant-exploratron somnambulist Paula Belinda King, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG in 1969 already planned taking one of my kids away from me in the time to follow, or maybe two; or is more alien saucer stuff involved in this ultra wild mix of unfathomable events, and all sponsored by my lovely Aunt Geraldine Snow, and her great wonderful friend, the CIA operative and also, SHAH OF IRAN? If it is not all true in some way, then why all this hacking and trouble? Why did IRAQ invade Kuwait the very day after I put the tape that Donna summer the great DJ made into 3 separate MP3 clicks on the Mark Mohr Hammonton Hate-page???????
I know what I know, and the biggest coolest shit is that if I am not nuts about the jet shit in the sky all these years, and that I now have ten million followers without any of them even knowing me, or the how or why of any of it, then nothing else was imagined, not according to David Smith, or 10 million others. Not a bad day's work at the office, right Donald Trump? Hay, as misses Bassler said to me, “Come o0n down and land”. What are you, scared of a damn teenaged girl buddy??????????????????? Well, maybe you are a lot smarter than me, sheeeeeeeeeeit, you're the freaking Harvard graduate after all, hats off 2-U old pal!!!!!!!!! Quit taking Ann King's money BRO, poor bitch needs her smokes ya' shithead.
Hello 36th Avenue, cousin Letty gives you guys her best, give her a buzz when you get a free second she says to ask you, or stop by Saint Louis Avenue when you're in the area. I truly am sorry for my RGG song, MI, don't hate me forever, you sure don't hate me in SDK as Scylla.
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022111.930.55
ALL APPLICABLE SUBTITLES:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This will not be a long blog. Nothing scares these arrogant mother fucking family. I have gone up to websites of prosecutors and the FBI, nothing will back it off, but there is a lot to say and only a short time to tell it tonight, time got the fuck away from me today. Well, this is what money And power can do, we most likely have all seen the episode unless we are not fans of the great law show, L&O, where 'Christie Garrison' is found on the street murdered.
Some major significance must exist around the 3 capitol letters 'ODF' as time after time, I look up and when I think I am typing the word 'of' or some other word like it such as maybe 'if' and it is c continually being translated or turned into IMHO by some one or some thing Captain kirk, the 3 letters in caps, (ODF), and it is getting on my mother trucking rock chucking nerves at C-SQ.
My computer is a box of trash that does not smell yet, it is just about worthless, hacked up, and done, nothing can stop these evil wicked slime bag peeps in this 'wonderful' family. Also, many of the silicon wafers are propagating, a secret not yet on the internet, just as CHEMTRAILS was not either in 1987, but then, what was the internet at that poignant but a bunch of silly circuits that were more a joke than a reality. Look hard at your monitor screen, and you will see these tiny teeny offspring's of the wafers, they live, they crawl around, and by two thousand twenty or so, it will be the hot new chemtrail topic on the net. The last time I was in 2029, I heard a very wild song talking about the wild new technologies, the gods have mercy on all of freaking us, YO. You cannot kill them, they are inside, between the outer screen and the inner substance right behind it, and if you try and squish them, you will only server to damage your computer monitor, and they will crawl back inside and live. They do know you are there, they ARE THE (“MILLIONTH-COUNCIL”), or better said, their kids. What, only we humans get the fun of sex and child rearing, sheeeeeit?????????????????????????? Wake up world.
This evil 333,333 Astral Plane entities are not only doing all this, and exist as transistors and silicon wafer chips and other smelly little doodad things that we see on breadboards and motherboards should you take a hammer to any of your electronic junk and crack it all open for a visual inspection of our real true aliens that took us all totally over quite a long time ago, but they also are writing our names across the sky in an endless game of a cross between distraction from the hell-knowledge of endlessness, and the thrill of confusion and panic creation, along with all the real other and more real effects that this chemical poison is indeed doing. I thought I was totally nuts when this bullshit all started in late 1987, and throughout the remainder ODF the eighties and then into the nineties and beyond that into the [present point in time. Now I know that if this was not in my imagination, MISTER DAVID LEIGH SMITH of Haddonfield, New Jersey, then none of the other shit was or is either, that I always knew was all real and horribly monstrously true. Yes Mister DLS, your blackboards of 1970 were there all along to tell me that none of this was ever in my imagination, right down to this very evening.
Lenny McKinnon the great, the mighty creator of the new world, that is not known about by the entire conspiracy theory groups of the great internet world. Oh well, THEY DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THE “WRITTEN NAMES ACROSS THE SKY”, DID THEY BACK IN 1989, DONNA SUMMER, both DQ and DJ????????????????? Yeah Donna, both of U, or is it one and the same and the best kept secret of the world since MI appeared on the open reel master of the song called 'REAL GOOD GIRL' back in August of 1986, yeah, so 'MI MIND IS MESSED UP', wow, then why did you feel the need to do an entire album shouting out that I had mistaken the identity of my record promoter Lenny, with you, and yes, I did, but if you are so wonderful and terrific, then what would my little nobody nothing opinion matter? I am a mere crumb of total insignificance in the back woods of South-Eastern New Jersey, or was before the great TAWF sent me forever to Florida in the dead of a cold winter night right out of Patterson's best. Well, for that matter, I seem to have effected an entire large slew of great recording artist, have I not? So this is why there is no way this all is some random chance bunch of coincidences, because the odds for that being the true reality would be astronomically around quadrillions of one against being a possibility, that is freaking why, YO!
The 6th dimension is the only topic that will never seriously get internetigized because trying to explain to seven plus billions of dreaming entities that there actually is this much higher existing dimension where little energies send themselves through a lower filter and into the astral/hyperspace rotation or the karmic wheel as the ancients saw it, the enlightened ones that is, and all of this is why entire universes endlessly downline and come from endless uplines, is beyond the grasp and scope of those wishing to remain in the dream and not remember that there is another side of the screen, to put it in ways that a virtual reality programmer or fan of movies such as 13th floor can identifreakingfy with.
If David Smith of Haddonfield back in 1970 had the crap on his blackboard that told me what I needed to remember way out here 246.2 trillion miles out into positive space from us there that day with no more cosmic significance than just helping one student on one particular day realize that indeed a dirty minded young student teacher was trying to get into his freaking pants, than I will not only be a monkey's uncle but a copyrighted 1983 uncle, on huge wild bended knees. The mighty dominant-exploratron somnambulist Paula Belinda King, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG in 1969 already planned taking one of my kids away from me in the time to follow, or maybe two; or is more alien saucer stuff involved in this ultra wild mix of unfathomable events, and all sponsored by my lovely Aunt Geraldine Snow, and her great wonderful friend, the CIA operative and also, SHAH OF IRAN? If it is not all true in some way, then why all this hacking and trouble? Why did IRAQ invade Kuwait the very day after I put the tape that Donna summer the great DJ made into 3 separate MP3 clicks on the Mark Mohr Hammonton Hate-page???????
I know what I know, and the biggest coolest shit is that if I am not nuts about the jet shit in the sky all these years, and that I now have ten million followers without any of them even knowing me, or the how or why of any of it, then nothing else was imagined, not according to David Smith, or 10 million others. Not a bad day's work at the office, right Donald Trump? Hay, as misses Bassler said to me, “Come o0n down and land”. What are you, scared of a damn teenaged girl buddy??????????????????? Well, maybe you are a lot smarter than me, sheeeeeeeeeeit, you're the freaking Harvard graduate after all, hats off 2-U old pal!!!!!!!!! Quit taking Ann King's money BRO, poor bitch needs her smokes ya' shithead.
Hello 36th Avenue, cousin Letty gives you guys her best, give her a buzz when you get a free second she says to ask you, or stop by Saint Louis Avenue when you're in the area. I truly am sorry for my RGG song, MI, don't hate me forever, you sure don't hate me in SDK as Scylla.
END TRANSMISSION:
Sunday, February 20, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296 SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-078-022111.055
VERY EARLY PRESIDENTS' DAY, MONDAY MORNING
SUTITLES WHETHER PRINTED OR OMITTED ON ALL BLOGS
OF MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN ARE AS FOLLOWS:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG:
FIGHTING THE CANNONS OF HELL FIRE:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well, my last journal was not dated because I was not sure if these blogs were going to end forever. I am not going to let that oversized punk road traveling sleeper companion of mine, defeat me that easily; all though HE has taken over my computer AGAIN as he did before in 2008, and all the blogs back there show the problem was very real and right in my mother fucking face, and here we go all over again. It was so nice for a while, and then one day, a clever plan was hatched, getting me to download one of HIS worms. My clock reads 1:24 in the morning, my computer clock insists on showing 10:24 PM last night at the PACIFIC TIME. When I go to a weather site that automatically tracks, supposedly anyway, the location of my computer, it insists that I am in a place near the San Francisco Bay area of the CHARMED WITCHES, lovely car kicker/destroyer Shannon Doe being of course one of them. Pink houses of Warren Grove in New Jersey, or out there in the Cali-Bay area all not withstanding, nearby to this locale is a beautiful place that I have on perpetual scan now, called Saint Mathew, if translated in the Spanish or Latin American tongue, and would be called here in America, San Mateo, and would be pronounced similar in accent as well as basic lettering sound structure, to the word potato. Roughly 95,000 very nice peeps reside in this California place, one of which has connected himself into my computer, Mister BOOM, who else, with the help of his army of teen-pals, natch. Can I prove this like I know that one and one is two? No. So I ask anyone out here to tell me if I am right or wrong, and then steer me correctly, after I detail the facts of the worst weekend of my entire life, caused by what else, these lovely peeps of “{{{((THAT FAMILY”))}}}. AND IT IS GROWING QUITE FAST, may I offer my cigar-congrats. Now, here is what happened.
A week ago the mouse began not responding to my commands, and then started moving on its own and doing things as though someone else was in total control over my computer. Just tonight, it forced me to answer a stupid survey that popped up on u-tube about an IQ test, and caused a click-on to the section marked, “BOTH”, out of 3 possible boxes to click on. I ignore these things, and am not some immature kid who never grew up like some other peeps out here, hmmm,hmmm, ah-hmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally the least hacking is done while I am typing on office word, but then, I unplug my modem from the outside world, but that does not strop worms all ready effecting stuff from continuing to do their thing. It merely limits even m,ore invasions. But anything on the internet is instant fair game to this totally ignorant moronic power-struck imbecile brain cooked case. By the way, old road friend of the dreamworlds, jealousy does not become you Doggie-AL. But for right now on with this horrible story, and then I will remind my readership how this really all began by me in 1983 from a bathtub, and yes you heard right and I did not mistype anything, I said a BATHTUB, in a small New Jersey town by the name of Atco, named actually for Atlantic County, and where I resided, and it is all in the copyrighted book from 1994 that I wrote called, “THE PERMISSION BATRRIER”. This story was told, but it is doubtful that many peeps archived a million words and remember the story so soon, it WILL be indeed retold, and on this blog before it is all over tonight, sorry, this morning, tonight for you NAM. You know, there was another symbolic and in this century event, that the letters of NAM can indeed represent here that take u[p far beyond just the NEW AGE MAFIA, which would be those fat cat world owners that sold our country and all of us, smack dab right down the river at light speed squared and never even freaking stopped to look back once nor blink a single ass eyelid, YO. Yes that good old Moon of Jupiter, keyboards seem to be responsible for giving it way more attention than all of the other eleven Jupiter moons combined, just by placing the (I) and the (O) next to each other. If one does not proof read real carefully all works before posting or have the necessary time to reedit later, things tend to come out 'IO' so very many times; the name of this moon, I salute you. I wish I knew how to get a few hundred million people to my blogs and websites and u-tube sites, as my story might just be the only one that has a small chance to save humanity from a fate far worse than anyone's present concept of doom or death, as this is not what any near future holds in more than 99.9999999999999999% of all time-line universes in the vast and virtually unlimited sized fifth dimensional hyperspace. No man does not wink off this existence, as man cannot leave this dream. Even ODF the entire universe, physically, could be wiped out and just gone in unexplainable and inconceivable ways, it would merely all just pop right back into place and splice its own self into the perfect meshed mix of everything, and for all we know this happens on regular cycles , but we would nwever even know it. Ask Olivia Newton John what I am referring to, she stole the idea for the eighties movie from my cousin Donald Powell from the Spruce Street Video store that he and his fagot friends all owned, in Philadelphia. Anyway for right now let me please just continue telling what this piece of garbage has done to me, from his 36th Avenue mansion. Before I go on, do not make any trouble for these peeps, any loyal Morians, remember the first commandment in all of Morianity, this is exactly what these peeps all want us to do, I'll freaking handle this bullshit, just wait and see. This is all going to be litigated properly, once I gather all the needed and sufficient evidence to proceed out there, and go to the court there and file my plaintiff charges against him, along with the Mister-Ed Network since quite obviously, he could never have pulled this off without ass my pal John Lennon put it so beautifully back in the nineteen-sixties, “am little help from his friends”, John left out a 'LOT' of help from his 'HACKER TEEN' friends, but back then, how could poor old John know that, or that Chapman was on his trail as the years moved backward and closed in on his red-ex. So anyway, here is the rest of all the bullshit that happened over another famous hellish holiday weekend for the HUNTINGTON CURSED PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The clock refused to be set on the time that belongs to this location, at first it would go back a while and then suddenly it magically or 'wormagically' would switch back if you'll permit this made up word that I feel is tremendously apropos here. Then one site in particular that tracks the personal computer used with IP numbers and all this other such technical jargon horse manure, should be giving me weather for my location of Fort Pierce, Florida, yet when I reset it over and over, it went back to this other location 2,900 and something miles away from my house. Eventually, a box popped up telling me not to alter tr5he setting as it is designed to show the weather for MY LOCATION. Wow, I am tempted to pun-in here with this one, jab, right cross, zing!!!!!!!! So at this point two nights ago, I said to myself, “YO butt-wipe, this is the area the person must live in that is worming into my computer”. So how am I doing so far Detective Briscoe and Access Nation, Nora D.A., and MISTER Dick Wolf? Then I yellow paged over to the city and hit the click-in for “FIND A PERSON”. Then I typed the name POW, well,, you know what I typed, and filled in the city and blah-blah-blah, and the only listing that was male was a David. So then I went to my GOOGLE MAP program and did a direction search. Instead of typing the “A” box and the “B” Box as 2 addresses, I theorized that this address may be a brother or a cousin, or even them, so I retyped their two line address on just one box, and on the other now empty directions box, merely typed in the town name, Saint Mathew, in translated Spanish, out in Jason-Cali. If my machine was not commandeered from the address “A” box, it would not even work, I know that much about computers, and my knowledge sucks when it comes to this “Jack McCoy Serena Sutherland electronic Law and Order shell-game”. POW, suddenly here is what I am given by the GOOGLE MAP DUIRECTIOS from the home of DAVID POWPOW: Remember he is out in San Mateo, California -94403 on South Norfolk Street. So here is how I came to learn that his powerful brother or cousin has a mansion on 36th Avenue, just less than two and a half miles away. These map directions pop up, remember, I do not put my address on these 'A' or 'B' boxes anywhere, the connected internet mapping system that seems to be all built into computers from the second that we all buy them and hook them up and begin doing what we do with them, seems to know who we are and exactly where we are, and so on and so forth. So to visit NAM, brother or cousin David follows these GOOGLE instructions: He departs South Norfolk Street towards Waters Park Drive, and then he turns to the right, taking him onto East Hillsdale Boulevard. As he proceeds along, this name of the road becomes WEST Hillsdale Blvd. He then proceeds to turn left, onto Alameda de Las Pulgas, where he then makes his final right onto 36th Avenue where NAM reside, and who knows, maybe this is where the NEW AGE MAFIA indeed is living, that is not my call to blog, YO!!!! Anyway, I have my temp-key and Google Earth license and have all of 36th Street under zoom in swivel surveillance. Their even is an audio feed, an audio enhance, and recording system, that will all be recorded straight off the screed into my small digital video-cam. All one needs to do is place the computer monitor nest to a lamp on both sides with a 100 watt light bulb on each side, or 150 is better, place the camera on a fixed perch, and then let it record the recording, and then the evidence that this hack was indeed done to me is well on its way to a prosecution. It is not you I am after TQ, you have nothing to worry about. I have all the sheriff names of the SM County, it all is on thee internet, the entire world is there just waiting to be plucked off the tree like fresh ripe ass fruit. Now if some genius out here can tell me the rerror of my ways, fine, but no Miss 'Jam wells' from the UM are invited to respond with any silly ass shit, I don't wanna hear it. I know this is all real and happening, and somebody may be going to jail; unless this shit stops and it is explained to me to my freaking satisfaction just why this all was done to me in the first place, and not just this, I am talking 5-10-20 + freaking years, so you better have a good answer ready when the sheriff comes knocking on the door to your freaking 36th Street Mansion, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the 1983 BATHTUB MUSIC CURSE, that led to the computer viruses and hacking of 15-25 years out into the future.
I talked to my metaphysical friends on the telephone, and recorded them with permission of course, and told one of them how I planned to start something that I had named, the MUSIC CURSE. It had to do with placing a destructive sound on a tape that ears could not hear, but when it was played it would ruin the tape recorder that the tape was played on. Trying to play other tapes on recorders that were starting to go bad after the sound went through them, ruined more tapes or infecting them with the same sound. This process went on to eventually destroy the entire music industry. I was tired of having my mother fucking songs ripped off for 3 or 4 years, a long time to a 28 and a half year old punk like me at the freaking time, and UI was very pissed off. Naturally this was all made up and the conversation was entirely metaphysical with made up phase-four characters such as Professor Jackson and Shorty MacInvondi. Still, the idea caught on, as these tapes later were stolen out of my car, as were the ones that you hear on the MARK MOHR INTERNET HATEPAGE, the 3 MP3's advertised by that super mega slime going by the handle of DJ-DONNA SUMMER, this butt wipe is huge hyper time big on the freaking U-TUBE, listen to the ass hole. And listen to Bruce as well as me, he can get you rolling on the floor, I swear to the booming sounds and the glittering lights of Trumps mighty casino CASTLE, turned MAINA, and they symbolism is either fucking dead or nonsense, oh yeah, RIGHT, huh MI???????
Well, this is just one of the many stories you all will encounter as Julia White's 2nd Calendar is ushered in after the winter equinox the year after this one. In 1987, there were no peeps talking about CHEMTRAILS, only poor me and David Roth, as we got our bodies wiped out and wrecked by this viciousness straight out of NICJK'S HELL. As the years keep on rolling in, you will see that as far out as my blogs may appear right now today folks, they will all be proven out to be totally true,k JUST MARK MY WORDS, and remember, WHY WOULD I FREAKING LIE?????????????????????
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296 SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-078-022111.055
VERY EARLY PRESIDENTS' DAY, MONDAY MORNING
SUTITLES WHETHER PRINTED OR OMITTED ON ALL BLOGS
OF MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN ARE AS FOLLOWS:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG:
FIGHTING THE CANNONS OF HELL FIRE:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well, my last journal was not dated because I was not sure if these blogs were going to end forever. I am not going to let that oversized punk road traveling sleeper companion of mine, defeat me that easily; all though HE has taken over my computer AGAIN as he did before in 2008, and all the blogs back there show the problem was very real and right in my mother fucking face, and here we go all over again. It was so nice for a while, and then one day, a clever plan was hatched, getting me to download one of HIS worms. My clock reads 1:24 in the morning, my computer clock insists on showing 10:24 PM last night at the PACIFIC TIME. When I go to a weather site that automatically tracks, supposedly anyway, the location of my computer, it insists that I am in a place near the San Francisco Bay area of the CHARMED WITCHES, lovely car kicker/destroyer Shannon Doe being of course one of them. Pink houses of Warren Grove in New Jersey, or out there in the Cali-Bay area all not withstanding, nearby to this locale is a beautiful place that I have on perpetual scan now, called Saint Mathew, if translated in the Spanish or Latin American tongue, and would be called here in America, San Mateo, and would be pronounced similar in accent as well as basic lettering sound structure, to the word potato. Roughly 95,000 very nice peeps reside in this California place, one of which has connected himself into my computer, Mister BOOM, who else, with the help of his army of teen-pals, natch. Can I prove this like I know that one and one is two? No. So I ask anyone out here to tell me if I am right or wrong, and then steer me correctly, after I detail the facts of the worst weekend of my entire life, caused by what else, these lovely peeps of “{{{((THAT FAMILY”))}}}. AND IT IS GROWING QUITE FAST, may I offer my cigar-congrats. Now, here is what happened.
A week ago the mouse began not responding to my commands, and then started moving on its own and doing things as though someone else was in total control over my computer. Just tonight, it forced me to answer a stupid survey that popped up on u-tube about an IQ test, and caused a click-on to the section marked, “BOTH”, out of 3 possible boxes to click on. I ignore these things, and am not some immature kid who never grew up like some other peeps out here, hmmm,hmmm, ah-hmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally the least hacking is done while I am typing on office word, but then, I unplug my modem from the outside world, but that does not strop worms all ready effecting stuff from continuing to do their thing. It merely limits even m,ore invasions. But anything on the internet is instant fair game to this totally ignorant moronic power-struck imbecile brain cooked case. By the way, old road friend of the dreamworlds, jealousy does not become you Doggie-AL. But for right now on with this horrible story, and then I will remind my readership how this really all began by me in 1983 from a bathtub, and yes you heard right and I did not mistype anything, I said a BATHTUB, in a small New Jersey town by the name of Atco, named actually for Atlantic County, and where I resided, and it is all in the copyrighted book from 1994 that I wrote called, “THE PERMISSION BATRRIER”. This story was told, but it is doubtful that many peeps archived a million words and remember the story so soon, it WILL be indeed retold, and on this blog before it is all over tonight, sorry, this morning, tonight for you NAM. You know, there was another symbolic and in this century event, that the letters of NAM can indeed represent here that take u[p far beyond just the NEW AGE MAFIA, which would be those fat cat world owners that sold our country and all of us, smack dab right down the river at light speed squared and never even freaking stopped to look back once nor blink a single ass eyelid, YO. Yes that good old Moon of Jupiter, keyboards seem to be responsible for giving it way more attention than all of the other eleven Jupiter moons combined, just by placing the (I) and the (O) next to each other. If one does not proof read real carefully all works before posting or have the necessary time to reedit later, things tend to come out 'IO' so very many times; the name of this moon, I salute you. I wish I knew how to get a few hundred million people to my blogs and websites and u-tube sites, as my story might just be the only one that has a small chance to save humanity from a fate far worse than anyone's present concept of doom or death, as this is not what any near future holds in more than 99.9999999999999999% of all time-line universes in the vast and virtually unlimited sized fifth dimensional hyperspace. No man does not wink off this existence, as man cannot leave this dream. Even ODF the entire universe, physically, could be wiped out and just gone in unexplainable and inconceivable ways, it would merely all just pop right back into place and splice its own self into the perfect meshed mix of everything, and for all we know this happens on regular cycles , but we would nwever even know it. Ask Olivia Newton John what I am referring to, she stole the idea for the eighties movie from my cousin Donald Powell from the Spruce Street Video store that he and his fagot friends all owned, in Philadelphia. Anyway for right now let me please just continue telling what this piece of garbage has done to me, from his 36th Avenue mansion. Before I go on, do not make any trouble for these peeps, any loyal Morians, remember the first commandment in all of Morianity, this is exactly what these peeps all want us to do, I'll freaking handle this bullshit, just wait and see. This is all going to be litigated properly, once I gather all the needed and sufficient evidence to proceed out there, and go to the court there and file my plaintiff charges against him, along with the Mister-Ed Network since quite obviously, he could never have pulled this off without ass my pal John Lennon put it so beautifully back in the nineteen-sixties, “am little help from his friends”, John left out a 'LOT' of help from his 'HACKER TEEN' friends, but back then, how could poor old John know that, or that Chapman was on his trail as the years moved backward and closed in on his red-ex. So anyway, here is the rest of all the bullshit that happened over another famous hellish holiday weekend for the HUNTINGTON CURSED PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The clock refused to be set on the time that belongs to this location, at first it would go back a while and then suddenly it magically or 'wormagically' would switch back if you'll permit this made up word that I feel is tremendously apropos here. Then one site in particular that tracks the personal computer used with IP numbers and all this other such technical jargon horse manure, should be giving me weather for my location of Fort Pierce, Florida, yet when I reset it over and over, it went back to this other location 2,900 and something miles away from my house. Eventually, a box popped up telling me not to alter tr5he setting as it is designed to show the weather for MY LOCATION. Wow, I am tempted to pun-in here with this one, jab, right cross, zing!!!!!!!! So at this point two nights ago, I said to myself, “YO butt-wipe, this is the area the person must live in that is worming into my computer”. So how am I doing so far Detective Briscoe and Access Nation, Nora D.A., and MISTER Dick Wolf? Then I yellow paged over to the city and hit the click-in for “FIND A PERSON”. Then I typed the name POW, well,, you know what I typed, and filled in the city and blah-blah-blah, and the only listing that was male was a David. So then I went to my GOOGLE MAP program and did a direction search. Instead of typing the “A” box and the “B” Box as 2 addresses, I theorized that this address may be a brother or a cousin, or even them, so I retyped their two line address on just one box, and on the other now empty directions box, merely typed in the town name, Saint Mathew, in translated Spanish, out in Jason-Cali. If my machine was not commandeered from the address “A” box, it would not even work, I know that much about computers, and my knowledge sucks when it comes to this “Jack McCoy Serena Sutherland electronic Law and Order shell-game”. POW, suddenly here is what I am given by the GOOGLE MAP DUIRECTIOS from the home of DAVID POWPOW: Remember he is out in San Mateo, California -94403 on South Norfolk Street. So here is how I came to learn that his powerful brother or cousin has a mansion on 36th Avenue, just less than two and a half miles away. These map directions pop up, remember, I do not put my address on these 'A' or 'B' boxes anywhere, the connected internet mapping system that seems to be all built into computers from the second that we all buy them and hook them up and begin doing what we do with them, seems to know who we are and exactly where we are, and so on and so forth. So to visit NAM, brother or cousin David follows these GOOGLE instructions: He departs South Norfolk Street towards Waters Park Drive, and then he turns to the right, taking him onto East Hillsdale Boulevard. As he proceeds along, this name of the road becomes WEST Hillsdale Blvd. He then proceeds to turn left, onto Alameda de Las Pulgas, where he then makes his final right onto 36th Avenue where NAM reside, and who knows, maybe this is where the NEW AGE MAFIA indeed is living, that is not my call to blog, YO!!!! Anyway, I have my temp-key and Google Earth license and have all of 36th Street under zoom in swivel surveillance. Their even is an audio feed, an audio enhance, and recording system, that will all be recorded straight off the screed into my small digital video-cam. All one needs to do is place the computer monitor nest to a lamp on both sides with a 100 watt light bulb on each side, or 150 is better, place the camera on a fixed perch, and then let it record the recording, and then the evidence that this hack was indeed done to me is well on its way to a prosecution. It is not you I am after TQ, you have nothing to worry about. I have all the sheriff names of the SM County, it all is on thee internet, the entire world is there just waiting to be plucked off the tree like fresh ripe ass fruit. Now if some genius out here can tell me the rerror of my ways, fine, but no Miss 'Jam wells' from the UM are invited to respond with any silly ass shit, I don't wanna hear it. I know this is all real and happening, and somebody may be going to jail; unless this shit stops and it is explained to me to my freaking satisfaction just why this all was done to me in the first place, and not just this, I am talking 5-10-20 + freaking years, so you better have a good answer ready when the sheriff comes knocking on the door to your freaking 36th Street Mansion, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the 1983 BATHTUB MUSIC CURSE, that led to the computer viruses and hacking of 15-25 years out into the future.
I talked to my metaphysical friends on the telephone, and recorded them with permission of course, and told one of them how I planned to start something that I had named, the MUSIC CURSE. It had to do with placing a destructive sound on a tape that ears could not hear, but when it was played it would ruin the tape recorder that the tape was played on. Trying to play other tapes on recorders that were starting to go bad after the sound went through them, ruined more tapes or infecting them with the same sound. This process went on to eventually destroy the entire music industry. I was tired of having my mother fucking songs ripped off for 3 or 4 years, a long time to a 28 and a half year old punk like me at the freaking time, and UI was very pissed off. Naturally this was all made up and the conversation was entirely metaphysical with made up phase-four characters such as Professor Jackson and Shorty MacInvondi. Still, the idea caught on, as these tapes later were stolen out of my car, as were the ones that you hear on the MARK MOHR INTERNET HATEPAGE, the 3 MP3's advertised by that super mega slime going by the handle of DJ-DONNA SUMMER, this butt wipe is huge hyper time big on the freaking U-TUBE, listen to the ass hole. And listen to Bruce as well as me, he can get you rolling on the floor, I swear to the booming sounds and the glittering lights of Trumps mighty casino CASTLE, turned MAINA, and they symbolism is either fucking dead or nonsense, oh yeah, RIGHT, huh MI???????
Well, this is just one of the many stories you all will encounter as Julia White's 2nd Calendar is ushered in after the winter equinox the year after this one. In 1987, there were no peeps talking about CHEMTRAILS, only poor me and David Roth, as we got our bodies wiped out and wrecked by this viciousness straight out of NICJK'S HELL. As the years keep on rolling in, you will see that as far out as my blogs may appear right now today folks, they will all be proven out to be totally true,k JUST MARK MY WORDS, and remember, WHY WOULD I FREAKING LIE?????????????????????
END TRANSMISSION:
Saturday, February 19, 2011
supplemental
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY:
It is 8 minutes before one in the morning, Sunday the 20th of February in the year of the PITSY number '4', also known as 2011, the last full year of the FIRST CALENDAR OF THE GREAT JULIA WHITE, who I have had the privilege, and pleasure, of knowing for many millions of Earth years now. This is not any journal entry, it lies infinitely tucked away in the bizarre shadows of know mans land.
I would ask you how the weather is out there, but the report and the time endlessly displays on the machine here. It seems that if cuz or brother David or whatever, were to drive about 2.3 miles heading on South Norfolk, and making a few other turns here and there until reaching the great 36th Avenue, he would be right there with all of the fun. I cannot for the life of me understand why people get off doing such horrible things.
I am watching all of you like hawks now. I will only stand back and observe. The future of the entire world is at stake and I cannot risk doing much about this wild situation, other can apologize to my wonderful Diana. She told me an incredible thing would happen in the near future, and after the new century came in. It would be unfathomable, and a story believed by nobody.
Buddy, I am not after your wife, why have you commandeered my world all over again. GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All I want to do is go to South America and remain there for about 300 years. When I come back, all of you will be long dead and gone. I reiterate, have a nice life Sarah, only that was all part of PITSTY year #3. Does your arrogance even trump, TRUMP Mister Teengod??????????????? Five people have all witnessed that I now appear to live 2.3 miles away from you, only I am not Cousin David, or brother, or whatever. Funny how numbers shout louder than mouths ever can. 1802 Robin Hill, Sandy's place at 1208 Greentree Lane years ago, and all the ones and eights in so many telephone numbers. Gawky the genius, or did you say it was Einstein, MI? Even you cannot explain away the truth that technology reveals. GOOGLE thanks you, Cohen thanks You, old movies thank you, and I thank you. Despising you is a waste of my energy and attention, for you to put so much time into me, it tells me all I need to know. Mister Ripley, believe it or not, this is all true and all doubts died and were buried today, I bid you a nice night.
One final footnote is important since you guys have so damn much interest in poor little old me. When I spoke the other day to the Copyright Office Examiner over the telephone, the first thing out of her mouth when I asked her something, speak of time warps, was “What makes you think”. On this unlucky-7-note, I will now get my glittering lights and booming whale sounds off of this public world system, as this message is meant for only two very wild people.
I wish you guys the best, whether you know it or not. Give me a few months and I'll be out of America and far away forever. I will enjoy the future chats with your great-great-great grandchildren at World Labs some day. Bye for now.
It is 8 minutes before one in the morning, Sunday the 20th of February in the year of the PITSY number '4', also known as 2011, the last full year of the FIRST CALENDAR OF THE GREAT JULIA WHITE, who I have had the privilege, and pleasure, of knowing for many millions of Earth years now. This is not any journal entry, it lies infinitely tucked away in the bizarre shadows of know mans land.
I would ask you how the weather is out there, but the report and the time endlessly displays on the machine here. It seems that if cuz or brother David or whatever, were to drive about 2.3 miles heading on South Norfolk, and making a few other turns here and there until reaching the great 36th Avenue, he would be right there with all of the fun. I cannot for the life of me understand why people get off doing such horrible things.
I am watching all of you like hawks now. I will only stand back and observe. The future of the entire world is at stake and I cannot risk doing much about this wild situation, other can apologize to my wonderful Diana. She told me an incredible thing would happen in the near future, and after the new century came in. It would be unfathomable, and a story believed by nobody.
Buddy, I am not after your wife, why have you commandeered my world all over again. GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All I want to do is go to South America and remain there for about 300 years. When I come back, all of you will be long dead and gone. I reiterate, have a nice life Sarah, only that was all part of PITSTY year #3. Does your arrogance even trump, TRUMP Mister Teengod??????????????? Five people have all witnessed that I now appear to live 2.3 miles away from you, only I am not Cousin David, or brother, or whatever. Funny how numbers shout louder than mouths ever can. 1802 Robin Hill, Sandy's place at 1208 Greentree Lane years ago, and all the ones and eights in so many telephone numbers. Gawky the genius, or did you say it was Einstein, MI? Even you cannot explain away the truth that technology reveals. GOOGLE thanks you, Cohen thanks You, old movies thank you, and I thank you. Despising you is a waste of my energy and attention, for you to put so much time into me, it tells me all I need to know. Mister Ripley, believe it or not, this is all true and all doubts died and were buried today, I bid you a nice night.
One final footnote is important since you guys have so damn much interest in poor little old me. When I spoke the other day to the Copyright Office Examiner over the telephone, the first thing out of her mouth when I asked her something, speak of time warps, was “What makes you think”. On this unlucky-7-note, I will now get my glittering lights and booming whale sounds off of this public world system, as this message is meant for only two very wild people.
I wish you guys the best, whether you know it or not. Give me a few months and I'll be out of America and far away forever. I will enjoy the future chats with your great-great-great grandchildren at World Labs some day. Bye for now.
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077
KINGNEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-077-022011.624.55555555—SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON
SUBTITIE: THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME----
SUBTITLE: THE EOITOME OF HARASSMENT,
INTERNET VERSION----
EXTRA ST: 'THE INVISIBLE POWERFUL DIABOLIS CALLIO'
BEGINNING TRANS-MI-SSION:
The entire 5-6 years of my blogging-career tells a major story that speaks for itself, and if the word AUTIOMATIC was ever invented for any one thing in this freaking world, it would have to be to describe that fact. This is a fact, no different than what one plus one has always equaled, and that it is just under eighty degrees now here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol. Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG), If anybody wants to really attempt to disprove this all mighty freaking story, I challenge anyone to try really freaking doing it, simply begin at any place, read both backward, or forward, from there, and realize that not even Einstein could do all of this and make up a hoax of this freaking ass magnitude, it even outdoes the hilarious Bruce and his cussing party, along with Joshua the synthesizer playing son of his, all listed under the (MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY), 'internet-hate-page' created by the great ('DJ DONNA SUMMER'), yes Donna was really out to get me Detective “DANIELS” of L&O, ONE WAY OR THE SWIFFER MOP OTHER, after-all, and WOW, 'that symbolism thing' again, U GOTTA FUCKING LOVE IT, HUH PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah Bruce, you and me know how to get angry at this old world, and since my entire home theater system and computer is all hooked together, I can download in analogue, and early this morning before retiring to my bed, I placed both your rantings, and mine from the early Bill Clinton years, onto a cassette tape for me to enjoy a laugh in the car when I feel like I need one; and usually this is all of the mother freaking time, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beginning around twenty minutes past eleven this freaking ass moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, old school pal, McDowell, the god of Cali along with the figure head overseer Mister Muscles Terminator Nohelp Buttwipe, attacked me SUPER ULTRA HYPER ASS FREAKING TIME, YO!!!!!!!! My video remote was struck hard suddenly and out of the fucking ass blue without warning or reason, and over and over again, and I rechecked and retested the fucking batteries and they are all the way green and fucking strong. I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY BACK IN MOTHER-FUCKING WHITE CITY WHEN I CAME BACK FROM THE PUBLIC LIBRARY AND REALIZED THAT MY FUCKING PERSONAL FUCKING VIDEO PROPERTY HAD BEEN AGAIN (TAMPERED WITH) BY THE KING/CALLIO/MCGUIRE CREW OF THE AWESOME POWERFUL (THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY), OR 'TAWF'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever since they hacked into the remote, it is now a double remote, their remote, in the same way they that they now are also inside of my mother fucking computer, TOTALLY ILLEGALLY, but to the two peeps involved, this is an old song, and I do not think either of them know that I know shit, only I do. Still, HE is forcing HER in my humble opinion or IMHO if the old 'net-expression' still is used or applies anymore as it did in the nineteen freaking nineties. Some may be wondering why Scylla, the All Mighty SSJK picks patterns of men and lovers who are so controlling and dominating, but then again, the great wisdom of DICK WOLF and the television show “L&O” kicks in to show and re-explain it all in living displays of unfathomable color and sound. We all jack into this program and are here until our last dream where Morty Mortino hits the red Hendershodt “X” at our upper right corner of the 'hologram', and ends the program. When I attended the CAMP CHESAPEAKE in Northeast, Maryland, USAWESMWG, in July of both 1967 and 1968 for two weeks each time for a total month over the course of two separate years, there was a girl there named Louise Hendershodt. She was about the loveliest young teen that I had ever encountered, and all the boys were awestruck and like 'totally nuts for her', as kids today would describe it. One night in the cabin that I was in, it may have been the Algonquin Cabin, they all were named Indian names as this was an area of Native American folks long ago where the camp was presently standing at that era in time. This was before the TRINITRAIL of middle December in the coming year of 1969 that formed a perfect and absolutely gorgeous 'asterisk shape' as it expanded and filled the entire ass skies over East Camden County in new Jersey following my return from the experience or dreaming-interaction where the All Mighty Goddess Sarah-Stacey Krassle, had taken the special chain away from me and even told me that when IO come out of the experience, I should check my strong box where I kept it as I would come to find that it is gone in waking life now as well, and sure enough, it was, mind bending as this story appears to be. I legally attest to all of this, under voluntary full charges and penalties of libel and perjury should anyone ever prove me to be a fucking liar about any of this horrendous dog shit. Back now to the night at the camp cabin. A dream came on me after falling into a very uneasy sleep, I was miserable at that camp and hated every day there, counting hours down until it was time to book out of there both years. My counselor, Mack Kaiter was a first cousin of the then very famous news anchorman Lester. It was some time-set up, and I know this now, after-all, my high school, Haddon township High in Westmont, New Jersey, it is all there on the great FACEBOOK, and the same time when Nicky boy or ALD took me back to this place and then stole my time box or oblitron making it impossible for me to return back to where I lived in the year of 1996, 28 years away as a grown man in Williamstown, New Jersey. This causes me to relive this time in my life over and over again, and the movie “17-Again” was not amusing at all to me back last year or the one before that, whatever, you can all burn up in DOGFTOWN for a hundred Mininna-Kalpa, this is what about nearly 90 thousand years of Earth time would feel like in this dog-awful condition-interaction, or you would think of in your mortal minds reading this peeps, as “place”. Back now to the dreaming-interaction in the Algonquin Cabin at Camp Chesapeake. I was standing on the long boat dock leading from near the boat house where Marylou was in charge of, at the far end of it out where the water surrounds on 3 sides, left, right, and in front. Suddenly Louise the camp heart-throb was standing behind me and no one else was anywhere at all, the entire dream-scape was a clear bright blue sky, bright dark blue water, a long dock, and the two of us, and nothing else whatsoever. Then a powerful sonic boom went off. Then she grabbed me and held me close to her and asked what the sound was, and I told her that I did not know. Then it became higher and higher in pitch, sounding like a cross between the call of dolphins and whales. Then I looked up into the still very bright blue sky and a giant red “X” was hovering over the distant right side high above, from the shores near Aberdeen across the Chesapeake Bay. She pointed up with her finger and her finger grew like the nose of Pinocchio in the famous story. As it grew, it began nearing the red ex. It was a bright small chemtrail near to where the sun was beginning to get low and colorful in the skies. Finally she touched it and everything went totally black. No sound, no light, no nothing, but I was not awake, but instead was totally inside this interaction, you would all use the word of “dream”. This went on what seemed a very frightening hour or so and then I seemed to fall into a more normal nights sleep from this point, and when I gad awakened, some git bag kid had my hand in a pot of water, seeing if it would make me piss myself, a trick done quite frequently in summer boy's camps a lot, at least back in the nineteen freaking sixties. Long story short, this was a long time before windows or internet or anything at all like this. Still a moron like Bruce Cursor or anyone else can certainly draw the distinction here, right??????
My day trading business partner knows what's been done to my computer. He does not believe that this is what is happening on his awake level, but that does not bother me. As long as he knows it on his deeper under the conscious mental levels, that is all that truly counts. I know what I am doing. Unconscious collective of the human race, know that all my blogs exist, and know what this incredible family has done to me and my life. As for staying off the site I told you, I retract this. It is me they are after, not you, they will not mess with you or your machine, it is me that was tracked when I charged the MIMI CD in 2008 at the local Wal-Mart, they from there could easily track the number and activate that one particular program when allowed to run on my system, to do all the things that it did, and sure enough, and this is exactly what indeed occurred. So do not fear going on the site of the greatest female recording artist of all time, as this will not effect any of you, as it did me, it is me this jerk off has been after all along since the middle nineties when he was too young to go after her yet, and he knew my hypnosis was about to restore my memories of so many things sooner or later.
Well, it is time to fix my din-din and relax with a movie, but first, my message to you Bob McDowell. You have to be the same BMD from the Haddonfield special education school back in 1972, do you remember the great awesome luscious Sarah Jacobson? If so, you need to get into archiving older 2006 and 2007 blogs that exist ion the blogger website of www.blogger.com/ .
Also, the odds of two Bob McDowell's of the same age that are both residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would be millions to one against this being a random chance occurrence. You must be my old school pal, and now the controller of the great United States FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION. Please Bob, try and help me, for old day and old friends sake, I am not a nut, and you know that. You of all peeps know that, we did lots of cool fun shit together, why would I make all this up or perpetrate a lie this fantastically gargantuan, it would serve no purpose at all? To this very day I laugh out loud many times, remembering how you called poor overweight imperfect Bruce, your “little dick-in-the-mouth”, don't bring me down Bob, Bruce never did, help me ol' buddy, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nicky is hacking me right now, at 1:17 PM his pacific time, or his Jason-Cali little teen pal hackers are that worship their wonderful god. This is all real Bob, help me please, let me sign off before this gets freaking ass worse.
The real proof is the endlessly displaying pacific-time that just refuses to stay reset to my time. HELP ME BOB, thank you in advance, and MC is not to blame, her is just stuck, her only crime is picking losers and rotten hubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-077-022011.624.55555555—SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON
SUBTITIE: THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME----
SUBTITLE: THE EOITOME OF HARASSMENT,
INTERNET VERSION----
EXTRA ST: 'THE INVISIBLE POWERFUL DIABOLIS CALLIO'
BEGINNING TRANS-MI-SSION:
The entire 5-6 years of my blogging-career tells a major story that speaks for itself, and if the word AUTIOMATIC was ever invented for any one thing in this freaking world, it would have to be to describe that fact. This is a fact, no different than what one plus one has always equaled, and that it is just under eighty degrees now here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol. Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG), If anybody wants to really attempt to disprove this all mighty freaking story, I challenge anyone to try really freaking doing it, simply begin at any place, read both backward, or forward, from there, and realize that not even Einstein could do all of this and make up a hoax of this freaking ass magnitude, it even outdoes the hilarious Bruce and his cussing party, along with Joshua the synthesizer playing son of his, all listed under the (MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY), 'internet-hate-page' created by the great ('DJ DONNA SUMMER'), yes Donna was really out to get me Detective “DANIELS” of L&O, ONE WAY OR THE SWIFFER MOP OTHER, after-all, and WOW, 'that symbolism thing' again, U GOTTA FUCKING LOVE IT, HUH PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah Bruce, you and me know how to get angry at this old world, and since my entire home theater system and computer is all hooked together, I can download in analogue, and early this morning before retiring to my bed, I placed both your rantings, and mine from the early Bill Clinton years, onto a cassette tape for me to enjoy a laugh in the car when I feel like I need one; and usually this is all of the mother freaking time, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beginning around twenty minutes past eleven this freaking ass moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, old school pal, McDowell, the god of Cali along with the figure head overseer Mister Muscles Terminator Nohelp Buttwipe, attacked me SUPER ULTRA HYPER ASS FREAKING TIME, YO!!!!!!!! My video remote was struck hard suddenly and out of the fucking ass blue without warning or reason, and over and over again, and I rechecked and retested the fucking batteries and they are all the way green and fucking strong. I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY BACK IN MOTHER-FUCKING WHITE CITY WHEN I CAME BACK FROM THE PUBLIC LIBRARY AND REALIZED THAT MY FUCKING PERSONAL FUCKING VIDEO PROPERTY HAD BEEN AGAIN (TAMPERED WITH) BY THE KING/CALLIO/MCGUIRE CREW OF THE AWESOME POWERFUL (THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY), OR 'TAWF'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever since they hacked into the remote, it is now a double remote, their remote, in the same way they that they now are also inside of my mother fucking computer, TOTALLY ILLEGALLY, but to the two peeps involved, this is an old song, and I do not think either of them know that I know shit, only I do. Still, HE is forcing HER in my humble opinion or IMHO if the old 'net-expression' still is used or applies anymore as it did in the nineteen freaking nineties. Some may be wondering why Scylla, the All Mighty SSJK picks patterns of men and lovers who are so controlling and dominating, but then again, the great wisdom of DICK WOLF and the television show “L&O” kicks in to show and re-explain it all in living displays of unfathomable color and sound. We all jack into this program and are here until our last dream where Morty Mortino hits the red Hendershodt “X” at our upper right corner of the 'hologram', and ends the program. When I attended the CAMP CHESAPEAKE in Northeast, Maryland, USAWESMWG, in July of both 1967 and 1968 for two weeks each time for a total month over the course of two separate years, there was a girl there named Louise Hendershodt. She was about the loveliest young teen that I had ever encountered, and all the boys were awestruck and like 'totally nuts for her', as kids today would describe it. One night in the cabin that I was in, it may have been the Algonquin Cabin, they all were named Indian names as this was an area of Native American folks long ago where the camp was presently standing at that era in time. This was before the TRINITRAIL of middle December in the coming year of 1969 that formed a perfect and absolutely gorgeous 'asterisk shape' as it expanded and filled the entire ass skies over East Camden County in new Jersey following my return from the experience or dreaming-interaction where the All Mighty Goddess Sarah-Stacey Krassle, had taken the special chain away from me and even told me that when IO come out of the experience, I should check my strong box where I kept it as I would come to find that it is gone in waking life now as well, and sure enough, it was, mind bending as this story appears to be. I legally attest to all of this, under voluntary full charges and penalties of libel and perjury should anyone ever prove me to be a fucking liar about any of this horrendous dog shit. Back now to the night at the camp cabin. A dream came on me after falling into a very uneasy sleep, I was miserable at that camp and hated every day there, counting hours down until it was time to book out of there both years. My counselor, Mack Kaiter was a first cousin of the then very famous news anchorman Lester. It was some time-set up, and I know this now, after-all, my high school, Haddon township High in Westmont, New Jersey, it is all there on the great FACEBOOK, and the same time when Nicky boy or ALD took me back to this place and then stole my time box or oblitron making it impossible for me to return back to where I lived in the year of 1996, 28 years away as a grown man in Williamstown, New Jersey. This causes me to relive this time in my life over and over again, and the movie “17-Again” was not amusing at all to me back last year or the one before that, whatever, you can all burn up in DOGFTOWN for a hundred Mininna-Kalpa, this is what about nearly 90 thousand years of Earth time would feel like in this dog-awful condition-interaction, or you would think of in your mortal minds reading this peeps, as “place”. Back now to the dreaming-interaction in the Algonquin Cabin at Camp Chesapeake. I was standing on the long boat dock leading from near the boat house where Marylou was in charge of, at the far end of it out where the water surrounds on 3 sides, left, right, and in front. Suddenly Louise the camp heart-throb was standing behind me and no one else was anywhere at all, the entire dream-scape was a clear bright blue sky, bright dark blue water, a long dock, and the two of us, and nothing else whatsoever. Then a powerful sonic boom went off. Then she grabbed me and held me close to her and asked what the sound was, and I told her that I did not know. Then it became higher and higher in pitch, sounding like a cross between the call of dolphins and whales. Then I looked up into the still very bright blue sky and a giant red “X” was hovering over the distant right side high above, from the shores near Aberdeen across the Chesapeake Bay. She pointed up with her finger and her finger grew like the nose of Pinocchio in the famous story. As it grew, it began nearing the red ex. It was a bright small chemtrail near to where the sun was beginning to get low and colorful in the skies. Finally she touched it and everything went totally black. No sound, no light, no nothing, but I was not awake, but instead was totally inside this interaction, you would all use the word of “dream”. This went on what seemed a very frightening hour or so and then I seemed to fall into a more normal nights sleep from this point, and when I gad awakened, some git bag kid had my hand in a pot of water, seeing if it would make me piss myself, a trick done quite frequently in summer boy's camps a lot, at least back in the nineteen freaking sixties. Long story short, this was a long time before windows or internet or anything at all like this. Still a moron like Bruce Cursor or anyone else can certainly draw the distinction here, right??????
My day trading business partner knows what's been done to my computer. He does not believe that this is what is happening on his awake level, but that does not bother me. As long as he knows it on his deeper under the conscious mental levels, that is all that truly counts. I know what I am doing. Unconscious collective of the human race, know that all my blogs exist, and know what this incredible family has done to me and my life. As for staying off the site I told you, I retract this. It is me they are after, not you, they will not mess with you or your machine, it is me that was tracked when I charged the MIMI CD in 2008 at the local Wal-Mart, they from there could easily track the number and activate that one particular program when allowed to run on my system, to do all the things that it did, and sure enough, and this is exactly what indeed occurred. So do not fear going on the site of the greatest female recording artist of all time, as this will not effect any of you, as it did me, it is me this jerk off has been after all along since the middle nineties when he was too young to go after her yet, and he knew my hypnosis was about to restore my memories of so many things sooner or later.
Well, it is time to fix my din-din and relax with a movie, but first, my message to you Bob McDowell. You have to be the same BMD from the Haddonfield special education school back in 1972, do you remember the great awesome luscious Sarah Jacobson? If so, you need to get into archiving older 2006 and 2007 blogs that exist ion the blogger website of www.blogger.com/ .
Also, the odds of two Bob McDowell's of the same age that are both residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would be millions to one against this being a random chance occurrence. You must be my old school pal, and now the controller of the great United States FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION. Please Bob, try and help me, for old day and old friends sake, I am not a nut, and you know that. You of all peeps know that, we did lots of cool fun shit together, why would I make all this up or perpetrate a lie this fantastically gargantuan, it would serve no purpose at all? To this very day I laugh out loud many times, remembering how you called poor overweight imperfect Bruce, your “little dick-in-the-mouth”, don't bring me down Bob, Bruce never did, help me ol' buddy, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nicky is hacking me right now, at 1:17 PM his pacific time, or his Jason-Cali little teen pal hackers are that worship their wonderful god. This is all real Bob, help me please, let me sign off before this gets freaking ass worse.
The real proof is the endlessly displaying pacific-time that just refuses to stay reset to my time. HELP ME BOB, thank you in advance, and MC is not to blame, her is just stuck, her only crime is picking losers and rotten hubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Friday, February 18, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 076
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 076
1:53 AM, SATURDAY, 19 FEBRUARY, 2K11
SUBTITLE: DUMMY-ME STRIKES OUT AGAIN
START:
It is only important that I know what is being said here, but there will be of course a small following now that will piece shit together, maybe not perfectly sir Bruce Allen Pennock, but the who am I to predict anything? All my predictions are all courtesy of the ultra-man, who of course has taken over this entire machine, and pacific time always insists on displaying no matter how often it is set and reset, or how many known current time and age firewalls and anti virus protections are downloaded, it is meaningless to the KING of the PIGLOPY.
Beginning after the hypnotherapy I received to try and restore memories in the middle nineties, he knew trouble was ahead based on what he does not ever want or permit for that matter, with me. The facts bear me and all this out no matter how many haters of MOUNTAINPEN or hate-pages that exist on the internet about me. Gee I wonder who is influencing all of this and had it all planned from a million mother sucking years ago to begin with, like-um- DUH!!!!????????? Child-net huh David Roth, yeah right, a child's mind would have seen all this if not directly involved in HIS bullshit since whenever. His physical age is about as meaningless, as Scylla's. There are a million kids that would do anything for their god, and hacking my system back in 2008, and again up here in the future in 2011, is no big deal, kids are the ultimate hackers and are the cutting edge kings and gods of this machine-game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUH. Wow am I stupid, and I fudge eating admit to it. Also, now I owe two apologies to my teen queen, the original one that I had recently recanted and on line to the world, as well as this one, for my total stupidity. When he was too young the first time around, he just quickly engineered events, and the second time was already there and waiting for me, with his hand literally around my throat.
Please accept this double bubble apology TQ, I can only put this crap together at one speed, mine, I am only another Bruce Pennock, you know that only too well, BEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for you, Mister Ed TNG, the plan is so simple, a child could figure it out. You proved to me that Christians are full of shit about your inability to move outside the normal patterns in three dimensions. So then why did you allow the so called plan of SSJKK to blow up in your face and permit the death on the cross of my 61st grandfather's uncle? Simple. It is all a game, and you could care less about the so called misleading teachings of your battle with Sarah-Stacey. We both know that you are madly in love with HER and have been all throughout infinity. You are unrelenting in your pursuit to destroy the only remaining possible line in this family, me, so you can go to top game level and win, if using a reference to a video game and computers of the current age may be drawn here. You will strike and try to break me, and I will bait you in until you cross the magic line and my proof is beyond disputer or argument by the largest skeptics club of Missouri. Yes, the expression is quite symbolic, right, in lieu of the postal system and their state abbreviations? Here is my proof that I will overtake you in this horrific game butt wipe. When the CHEMTRAIL bullshit began after I “called the cops” from my security station at Gaither Road in mount Laurel in New Jersey, USAESMWG in December of the year of freaking 1987, no one anywhere knew about this, or cared, not one soul. Every year, the graph chart has grown up to the place where one out of ten peeps that are even semi-educated now believe that this stuff is real and poses a health hazard to the citizenry to say the least. What you are doing with me, will cost you the love of your life, you had this one chance to have her and fool her for a short bunch of years, and buddy, you are blowing it real bad. Keep up the good work, Alaskan doggie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maggie will wake up, Rod, give her time, the huge next quake, like Chine in oh-eight is close at hand, and about to freaking strike, told you peeps!!!!!! I'll remind you soon that this blog exists!!!!!
As for Louise Hendershodt of Maryland, or 'Wiesel' from 1968: Did the man of North Carolina show you the future of the red ex, the way out of this program and off the Lawn Mower Man screen forever. Peace out.
BYE-BYE, THIS HAS ONLY STARTED NOW, UNLESS YOU GET THE TRUCK OFF MY MACHINE, sorry Ed Himacane, I was wrong back in time, but then, that is a major repeating pattern, with or without the 100 number roulette progression, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END:
1:53 AM, SATURDAY, 19 FEBRUARY, 2K11
SUBTITLE: DUMMY-ME STRIKES OUT AGAIN
START:
It is only important that I know what is being said here, but there will be of course a small following now that will piece shit together, maybe not perfectly sir Bruce Allen Pennock, but the who am I to predict anything? All my predictions are all courtesy of the ultra-man, who of course has taken over this entire machine, and pacific time always insists on displaying no matter how often it is set and reset, or how many known current time and age firewalls and anti virus protections are downloaded, it is meaningless to the KING of the PIGLOPY.
Beginning after the hypnotherapy I received to try and restore memories in the middle nineties, he knew trouble was ahead based on what he does not ever want or permit for that matter, with me. The facts bear me and all this out no matter how many haters of MOUNTAINPEN or hate-pages that exist on the internet about me. Gee I wonder who is influencing all of this and had it all planned from a million mother sucking years ago to begin with, like-um- DUH!!!!????????? Child-net huh David Roth, yeah right, a child's mind would have seen all this if not directly involved in HIS bullshit since whenever. His physical age is about as meaningless, as Scylla's. There are a million kids that would do anything for their god, and hacking my system back in 2008, and again up here in the future in 2011, is no big deal, kids are the ultimate hackers and are the cutting edge kings and gods of this machine-game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUH. Wow am I stupid, and I fudge eating admit to it. Also, now I owe two apologies to my teen queen, the original one that I had recently recanted and on line to the world, as well as this one, for my total stupidity. When he was too young the first time around, he just quickly engineered events, and the second time was already there and waiting for me, with his hand literally around my throat.
Please accept this double bubble apology TQ, I can only put this crap together at one speed, mine, I am only another Bruce Pennock, you know that only too well, BEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for you, Mister Ed TNG, the plan is so simple, a child could figure it out. You proved to me that Christians are full of shit about your inability to move outside the normal patterns in three dimensions. So then why did you allow the so called plan of SSJKK to blow up in your face and permit the death on the cross of my 61st grandfather's uncle? Simple. It is all a game, and you could care less about the so called misleading teachings of your battle with Sarah-Stacey. We both know that you are madly in love with HER and have been all throughout infinity. You are unrelenting in your pursuit to destroy the only remaining possible line in this family, me, so you can go to top game level and win, if using a reference to a video game and computers of the current age may be drawn here. You will strike and try to break me, and I will bait you in until you cross the magic line and my proof is beyond disputer or argument by the largest skeptics club of Missouri. Yes, the expression is quite symbolic, right, in lieu of the postal system and their state abbreviations? Here is my proof that I will overtake you in this horrific game butt wipe. When the CHEMTRAIL bullshit began after I “called the cops” from my security station at Gaither Road in mount Laurel in New Jersey, USAESMWG in December of the year of freaking 1987, no one anywhere knew about this, or cared, not one soul. Every year, the graph chart has grown up to the place where one out of ten peeps that are even semi-educated now believe that this stuff is real and poses a health hazard to the citizenry to say the least. What you are doing with me, will cost you the love of your life, you had this one chance to have her and fool her for a short bunch of years, and buddy, you are blowing it real bad. Keep up the good work, Alaskan doggie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maggie will wake up, Rod, give her time, the huge next quake, like Chine in oh-eight is close at hand, and about to freaking strike, told you peeps!!!!!! I'll remind you soon that this blog exists!!!!!
As for Louise Hendershodt of Maryland, or 'Wiesel' from 1968: Did the man of North Carolina show you the future of the red ex, the way out of this program and off the Lawn Mower Man screen forever. Peace out.
BYE-BYE, THIS HAS ONLY STARTED NOW, UNLESS YOU GET THE TRUCK OFF MY MACHINE, sorry Ed Himacane, I was wrong back in time, but then, that is a major repeating pattern, with or without the 100 number roulette progression, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END:
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