SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 138
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START:
If I said what else is new, it is always either warm and sunny or else it is hot and sunny, here in good old Fort Pierce, Florida, I'd be telling less than the truth. The weather part would hold, but as for what else is new, there are always new things, and because something was said to me so horrendous and monstrous, and I learned the why and who of this put-up-job just today, from a source I'm safer not revealing, that I am angrier than brown smells and will now say something that will begin new balls rolling for many things, many peeps, and many future outcomes in many parts of the HS.
I cannot ever tell too much about what happened to me as a boy and then how things went onto progress that caused the all ready existing gap between me and a fairly routine normal average life, widening and growing in leaps and bounds on a daily basis, it just cannot be told, other than to hint at a few powerful unfair things where peeps pf power and mega-bucks, as usual, got away with figurative murder, starting with a dude named Tom Reale, who molested me twice as a young teenaged boy, in his house. No one ever did anything to get justice for me on many other molestations as well, the gang of teen goddesses in Atlantic City, the high school fagot at HTHS, the man in the Collingswood, New Jersey, jewelry store, by the name of Mister Wolf, the man who stalked me in Atlantic City and got me into a car where I was taken to a Route 3 motel, across from New York City in July of 1969, much more, believe me, such as numerous student teachers at my school, one male, and several young female adults, it would be a sufficient tale to invite the media over. I am so angry, hurt, and depressed, at what I have been told about why a certain event took place just four blocks from this house and just 3 afternoons ago. Thi9s is why I am going to say just a few tiny things, even though when all is said and done, this will all be locked away in Washington, DC, quite an appropriate place if I dare say so, for seventy five years, and “what makes me think this”, is the law of the land. The blogs will all be gone shortly, so will the stupid no talent songs on the U-Tube, but what will remain will be so that the future can be aware of things that will vindicate my life of terror and nightmare hellishness, or as my mom used to call it, a life of absolute waste.
All ready on prior blogs, is my story of what happened in a small town in Ohio, called Troy. My dad was born in Toledo, and married my mother after they met and courted while he was involved in as very secret and high profile trial and court proceeding at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards, back in early middle twentieth century. The secret told to me by my mother when she thought that I was mature enough to be told about it, was that my dad, her husband, could not take the shame of living in this small town where so many peeps all know your business and love to gossip and talk, and somehow at the age of (17), that wonderful great number again, seemingly so inescapable, he learned that the father he had always believed was his, was only a step, and that his real father was a dude named Mohr. He grew up as Wayne Martin. He was lied to and never told by his mom, Clara Block Martin, that she had had him at the age of sixteen, and then dad split, they never were married, and shortly thereafter, she went onto marry into the Martin family. He was so ashamed and up set that his entire life was ruined. He joined the Merchant Marines and this became part of the United States Navy when the Second World War broke out shortly thereafter his upping into the MM. Common sense tells anyone that this would not be enough to totally wreck and ruin a person's entire life. But it did. He used his Naval authority and powerful friends at the time, to search for hidden Spanish Treasure Galleons off of Florida's Treasure Coast, and used his influence to gain access into special Portuguese off-limits areas in research libraries and other locations, where he was able to piece together very close positions of numerous sunk galleons from a very long time ago. Then he also was able to use the ships war equipment for a job that is slang worded as “magging” by treasure salvers, what better apparatus to have under your control than a Naval battleship. But we are not gonna discuss this in further detail. What will be discussed is that my father met a strange man in his town who just wandered through, My mom never lived to know this story. I only 'learned' of it a few weeks ago. Lots of peeps back in 2009 started e-mailing me and wanted to know if they might be related to me. Knowing the scams and con games, I was quite leery, and answered only a few with careful replies, telling a few short facts as well as where they could go to check on these same facts for themselves. Many peeps used to telephone me back early in this century while I was in my mobile home, all from Egg Harbor, New Jersey just several miles down the road East of my location, down the WHITE HORSE PIKE, or Route-30. The ODF-HACK got me but I saw it and corrected it, HA-HA-HA. I 'learned' of that as well. But back on office files point, if permitted here Uncle Heinz Kingbeb, of Babylon, and these peeps wanted to know if I was related to the famous Egg Harbor teacher. I never did any real checking of my father;s family line. All I ever knew was that my Aunt Geraldine Snow, the lady that married my mother's brother Stuart, who was named directly after his 24th or somewhere in there grandmother, the Queen of Scotland, was a genealogical expert, and researched her husband's side of the family, the Huntington Line basically, also including Eastman and Mason and a few others, but she did learn by going through lots of stuff that my father's real father was indeed a grandson or something along this line, to the dude who wrote the world famous Christmas song, entitled, “Silent Night”. This has nothing to do with anything right now, and her main interest was tracking her husband;s family back, my family, through the many Huntington's as this line goes all the way back to Governor Samuel Huntington of Connecticut who died in his 4th term in office in the year of 1796, and was the 18th Sorian Governor, if permitted to throw in a little Daniels-Humor, huh Michele. None of this either, has one thing to do with the topic of the blog of SJ-CH-138 and today, this final thirtieth April day in 'PITSY year #4', or also known as (AKA) 2011. 31 years ago I would be driving to 1m802 Robin Hill on this day to drop off a lamp and a couple of boxes, lock the door, and then drive down to the recording studio to pull my 8.5 hour shift of 4:30-1:00, and get back to my new home around half past one in the morning on the first day of May, back in 1980, AKA 'PITSY YEAR #2'. 33 mornings later after the one that I awoke to being my first one ever at Robin Hill, I had my second powerful SCYLLA interaction on the 4th day of June, where She sang Her very special song to me the incredible song we all now know or should know, as, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”. She has now sang 3 songs to me, one in 1980, one in 1997, and one in 2011, not totally following the PITSY YEAR schedule system, but then, go figure out the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE! Harold Camping will go to his box, trying to put this marvelous super teenager into a box. She cannot be figured out, we all must merely play her incredible game. I am the only person on the planet aware of these facts however, and this is why I am able to say something, and BOOM, it happens. I KNOW HER, better than anyone on Planet Earth does.
Back now to what really upset my father. He found out that his dad's mom's dad's brother was in a Virginia field inspecting his cotton. A very strong and tall and gorgeous long haired slave girl grabbed him and pushed him into an area of a group of trees and grass, and forced herself on him. He was a frail man and she ended up having his child. My mom had a book case that was quite elegant with tons of books. Until the move into the Highview Apartments in the middle nineteen eighties, we always managed to move these books as well as this beautiful multi teared shelf, with folding glass drawers, from the middle nineteenth century, handed down to my mom's mom's mom, Sarah Huntington Eastman, wife of the dude as we called him back then, the immortal who left the east to go out to the Bay area of San Francisco, and jumped in front of a speeding trolley car to escape his eternal physical life. He was ninety-five and had thick long black hair on his head, and appeared as a man of thirty, it was the best kept secret of the medical communities of the area as well as most of the state ODF California, and only I am left with the knowledge of this great secret today ion 2011. He carried the Huntington Curse. My dad was ever so slightly related to this mixed child, and the entire town of Toledo, Ohio found this out, and made his life unbearable, so he went to join the MM at age 17, getting his grandmother, the only one he loved ion the entire family, to go down and help to get him in as he was not quite age eighteen. My mom never could understand why he hated his mother and all of the family so much, and gravitated to her side so much. One day at Highview Apartments, in 1985, I read the one book that underneath a pile of other books on the lowest shelf, kept wrapped with a strange cover, and had a dairy lock on it. My mom broke the lock a few years back, and told me that I need to read this book someday. In it was a story written by this man who later fell in love with the slave girl who bore him the man-child. He had written this book of their love in full secrecy, as both of them could have been hung in those days. To this day, I do not know what the law is and exactly what the fractions are, but still write the CAU on my forms for race, YO! Still, between many other things, as well as fireworks night, how can I ever rule out 1969, Mister Marcucci, and if it is true, this is the greatest injustice in the history of man in my opinion, but then, that is my opinion that the mighty Michelle from RPL is granting and permitting me, so I was told in 1980, but my opinion is naturally quite prejudice.
So next time you feel like pulling a stunt like this on me, think twice, as twisters is the least of things that I can counterstrike with my friends and fiends out here, what I know swirls and twirls a l;opt more dangerously than any winds can blow, but then, they do call the wind by some pretty fascinating names.
END TRANSMISSION:
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 137
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 137
WLSBT-DATFILE: CH-137-042911.875
TEOFIV/TMCAM
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011-MWM/MWM
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Major unnatural events are happening all around me, but this is nothing new at all for me, it is an infinite situation, as the source of it is indeed infinity, and has no more to do with space-time-mind worlds other than the fact that these are the mirrored reflections and dream-downs of the Astral Plane.
I have a new mini-droid situation and have had it for several weeks now, and it was not like this before at any time in Florida, and since I've been here more than a full year now, I know every month of pattern in weather as well as insects and pestilence sent by who else but Diana's wonderful brother. This is only the very beginning. At ten in the morning back on the 27th, my watch was destroyed, or so I thought. I put new batts in it, dropped it on the floor to shock it on three separate occasions, and nothing. UI put it away. I checked it and tried to make it work until I noticed today when I went to gfo over to the Saint Lucie County Sheriff's Office on Midway Road around just past one this freaking afternoon, boom , the watch suddenly sprang back to life, for absolutely no apparent reason at all. Still, this is nothing, you have not heard anything yet peeps. As soon as I reset the watch to the correct time, and while I was moving the hands around the face, it passed half past three, and boom, out of the blue came more memories of many things, including the '333' number which most likely only a few people on this planet know about, and that's the freaking way it will stay, BRO. Then Diana spoke into my mind and said in that adorable voice of hers that the United States Copyright Office still has the tape of to this day from somewhere in 1988, and told me that she was lying to me the other night about not doing something, I cannot tell the blog more than this, but the news tonight confirmed that she was playing her normal game that all powerful goddesses love to play, but that is nothing, Detective Brightlawns, NOTHING. I had no idea that I was confusing blocked powerful memories of the past with recently occurring vivid dreams. It seemed to all begin when I made a second contact with the machine part of the mental JS realm of the wabbit cement business, right lady, whoever you are??????????????????????????? All my blogs may have to come down soon, including all my U-Tube garbage. I cannot risk having SSJK angry with me, and with good cause. Speaking of Copyrighted tapes of those times and days, David Roth made mention of a strange parallel situation, only this is another area, and another bay, and yes, other weeds. Still, I will not risk placing my my teen queen in any risk of problems, so now my plans have altered. I most likely will just do what I told Eddie Muscles at my old job I was gonna do, and go do private security work over in hazardous parts of the world, and then vanish out of sight for about 70-150 years, and when I come back, all this fucking shit will be over and gone, and so will all these damn secrets. I could always claim I am in with Mizz-UmWell and doing a huge monster ass fiction story, but a real super zealous prosecutor looking to make a name for his or her self might just do the Dawn-Marie King table deal, so forget it, Atlantic City Expressway accidents in any and all dimensions and parallels all notwithstanding, YO. Diana informed me that I have several new degrees from the Teck Bay Mystery School, and that I was correct, this all went down on the Astral Plane and I remembered this back in my dream here when I was dreaming it was watch stop nightmare day. But when something like this happens, be it my last birthday, or nearly 5 months in the negative spaces, it is because the great MILLIONTH-COUNCIL is active and doing their dancing and their Valerie Bertrinelli thing, skinny or fat, as this is meaningless in higher reality where anyone simply is whatever they think they are instantaneously. Lightning Goddesses have fantastic senses of humor, I have learned this the hard way, and do not even care what happens ever, this is no more than a super cool video game to them, and they are literally the human joysticks, we won't say tools as 25 years has indeed now come and gone, right Library of Congress?
A large part of the distant future has followed me back here and has propagated and left few paper trails for their offspring to ever really follow any of this. Still, STM is the power behind all of this wild maze, there simply is never any way of getting around this truth and reality.
Tonight, I took a nasty hood-siege, but that is all par for the course, Tiger. Go get him. Girl that is, not woods, test pressings, or any other garbage of the EW. So one minute I am OK and the next minute, let's dine the fucking bastard out to the media, oh well, what can anybody do when nobody has a clue? The only one who remembers as much as me, is Paula, and that is only IMHO.
So this old hiding ever seeing non weed sucking new shoe is gonna sign off for right now. I was only getting my own background report folks. The Housing Authority insists on this. The only way to save up top leave Florida with all my stuff is to live cheaper and save whatever I can. All this internet shit is gonna be history and get removed very soon. BE CAREFUL 333. WOLF is onto you. Do you really think all this is random, PK, not Todd Reality Ransom??????????
Let me END TRANSMISSION, folks!!!!!! THAT'S ALL WARNER WABBITS, WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
WLSBT-DATFILE: CH-137-042911.875
TEOFIV/TMCAM
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011-MWM/MWM
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Major unnatural events are happening all around me, but this is nothing new at all for me, it is an infinite situation, as the source of it is indeed infinity, and has no more to do with space-time-mind worlds other than the fact that these are the mirrored reflections and dream-downs of the Astral Plane.
I have a new mini-droid situation and have had it for several weeks now, and it was not like this before at any time in Florida, and since I've been here more than a full year now, I know every month of pattern in weather as well as insects and pestilence sent by who else but Diana's wonderful brother. This is only the very beginning. At ten in the morning back on the 27th, my watch was destroyed, or so I thought. I put new batts in it, dropped it on the floor to shock it on three separate occasions, and nothing. UI put it away. I checked it and tried to make it work until I noticed today when I went to gfo over to the Saint Lucie County Sheriff's Office on Midway Road around just past one this freaking afternoon, boom , the watch suddenly sprang back to life, for absolutely no apparent reason at all. Still, this is nothing, you have not heard anything yet peeps. As soon as I reset the watch to the correct time, and while I was moving the hands around the face, it passed half past three, and boom, out of the blue came more memories of many things, including the '333' number which most likely only a few people on this planet know about, and that's the freaking way it will stay, BRO. Then Diana spoke into my mind and said in that adorable voice of hers that the United States Copyright Office still has the tape of to this day from somewhere in 1988, and told me that she was lying to me the other night about not doing something, I cannot tell the blog more than this, but the news tonight confirmed that she was playing her normal game that all powerful goddesses love to play, but that is nothing, Detective Brightlawns, NOTHING. I had no idea that I was confusing blocked powerful memories of the past with recently occurring vivid dreams. It seemed to all begin when I made a second contact with the machine part of the mental JS realm of the wabbit cement business, right lady, whoever you are??????????????????????????? All my blogs may have to come down soon, including all my U-Tube garbage. I cannot risk having SSJK angry with me, and with good cause. Speaking of Copyrighted tapes of those times and days, David Roth made mention of a strange parallel situation, only this is another area, and another bay, and yes, other weeds. Still, I will not risk placing my my teen queen in any risk of problems, so now my plans have altered. I most likely will just do what I told Eddie Muscles at my old job I was gonna do, and go do private security work over in hazardous parts of the world, and then vanish out of sight for about 70-150 years, and when I come back, all this fucking shit will be over and gone, and so will all these damn secrets. I could always claim I am in with Mizz-UmWell and doing a huge monster ass fiction story, but a real super zealous prosecutor looking to make a name for his or her self might just do the Dawn-Marie King table deal, so forget it, Atlantic City Expressway accidents in any and all dimensions and parallels all notwithstanding, YO. Diana informed me that I have several new degrees from the Teck Bay Mystery School, and that I was correct, this all went down on the Astral Plane and I remembered this back in my dream here when I was dreaming it was watch stop nightmare day. But when something like this happens, be it my last birthday, or nearly 5 months in the negative spaces, it is because the great MILLIONTH-COUNCIL is active and doing their dancing and their Valerie Bertrinelli thing, skinny or fat, as this is meaningless in higher reality where anyone simply is whatever they think they are instantaneously. Lightning Goddesses have fantastic senses of humor, I have learned this the hard way, and do not even care what happens ever, this is no more than a super cool video game to them, and they are literally the human joysticks, we won't say tools as 25 years has indeed now come and gone, right Library of Congress?
A large part of the distant future has followed me back here and has propagated and left few paper trails for their offspring to ever really follow any of this. Still, STM is the power behind all of this wild maze, there simply is never any way of getting around this truth and reality.
Tonight, I took a nasty hood-siege, but that is all par for the course, Tiger. Go get him. Girl that is, not woods, test pressings, or any other garbage of the EW. So one minute I am OK and the next minute, let's dine the fucking bastard out to the media, oh well, what can anybody do when nobody has a clue? The only one who remembers as much as me, is Paula, and that is only IMHO.
So this old hiding ever seeing non weed sucking new shoe is gonna sign off for right now. I was only getting my own background report folks. The Housing Authority insists on this. The only way to save up top leave Florida with all my stuff is to live cheaper and save whatever I can. All this internet shit is gonna be history and get removed very soon. BE CAREFUL 333. WOLF is onto you. Do you really think all this is random, PK, not Todd Reality Ransom??????????
Let me END TRANSMISSION, folks!!!!!! THAT'S ALL WARNER WABBITS, WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 136
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 136
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME
BLOG SUBTITLE THREE: “ATTACKED BY A MAD-MAN”
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2298,
SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: CH-136-042711.690
COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011,
MARK WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I ran into 10 grand Joe Supersecrets today, with the special bicycle battery of the Melanie and many other high-notes clubs of Planet Earth. He was in school with me and we were studying Advanced Robotics. Naturally, this was in hyperspace, or you mortal worlders would say it more like, “Mark, you ass hole, you mean you had this powerful dream last night”, OYR, whateverrrr. I am going to make hyperspace and parallel universe reality believers out of some of you if it takes me five hundred thousand Lieutenant Ouhora-Trek years. When I was in a computer class today at the Fort Pierce, Florida, Harvest, whose web address can be accessed as fo0llows: www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and suddenly this evil horrid man assaulted me out of the blue. Now people are beginning to know and believe. Still, you are all clueless to many things, such as why I am getting totally mother fucking hammered and pummeled this entire mother fucking week peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! The attack was totally unprovoked, I was only sitting in as chair and quietly talking to my friend who we will just call, Delilah for sake of secrecy and safety and closets in general. I'll fucking give Dawn-Marie King big-time unlimited credit for one thing, and that is that she did not think that her sexual molestation by her no good rotten fucking father back in 1972 was one bit funny, BOOM BOOM BOOM, are powerful ass fucking nerves being funny boned here, YO??????? Let me discuss this powerful nightmare last night that woke me with a super ass bang thanks to my beautiful wonderful mother fucking alarm clock at precisely half past eight, giving me the needed time to shower, dress, and drive four blocks to my job; taking only one or two minutes time, where I work the 9-3 shift on Mondays, Tuesdays, and fucking ass Wednesdays.
Chemtrail and plane aerial assault has been TOTAL fucking murder all week fucking long, with this fucking hockey hickey (LING-LONG-FONDA-MONSTER-SLAPPER) playoff shit, that I have had to deal with ever since the 15th day of cunt eating August, in the demonic and Satanic year of 1986; and has been told and blogged out top the public world now for about six straight fucking consecutive ass years, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This will freaking be undoubtedly told again and again and again; and a lot more than seventeen ripped off times, BRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So are we going out tonight, Shaniah, you miserable whore?
All week ling, Henry Barbara Thirteen Angry-Men, I've been destroyed, and it is only a mother fucking matter of time before M---AGNESONI---C scans, and avenges my hellish miseries being perpetrated upon me by quintessential scoundrels and total ass scum, YO!!!!!!! Don't fucking believe me, but when Planet Earth gets wiped, don';t say I didn't fucking warn everybody, Agent Caruso. I have tried to get this shit against me stopped for decades now FBI, and you did nothing but 'BACK-BURNER' me to death, YO, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I knew things would off the scale putrid and monstrously horrific for me after Coming out of the wild interaction at half past eight this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning. I am not as stupid as peeps would hope I am, or believe in their rash fallible total ignorance, peeps. LSS, I was in this robotics class and Nick Cannon walked in with a group of women, all dressed very strangely. They wanted to know all of the details about something that Joe and I had just finished making in this classroom-lab of a sort. I began telling them what they wanted to know, and Joe suddenly stood up and yelled at me at the top of his lings which I never ever saw him do in 'waking-life' at the Harvest before he was canned, or 'plipped' as they say 100 years from now, “pink-slipped”, without cause some time back, and is all on my blogs from last summer time, BRRRR! What significance these strangely dressed ladies had, I do not yet know, but they, along with 'Road Time Trip Man' all sort of ended up in the background more and more as this interaction progressed. Mariah Carey was singing a beautiful song that I never heard before throughout all of infinity, and it was so beautiful, and like she was so famous for in the nineties for doing, it has many octaves, and her heavenly voice was beyond outstanding and divine. When she finished the song, she walked over to my seat in this school-lab, and grabbed the thing that Joe hollered at me not to let anyone look at or touch. Naturally, we all were so totally ass spellbound by her music and her song and her ultra fantastic voice, that nobody could even move. She smiled down at me in my seat while holding this wild looking small but seemingly heavy gadget. As she kept holding onto it, it began to pulsate and make bright strobing colors. Then she sat it down on my desk, that was twice the size of a normal desk one might expect to see in a classroom at a college or a high school, and Joe jumped away faster than Britney's grandfather warped out of my home in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, USAESMWG, that day in the early nineteen-nineties. Then Mariah re-sang her super lovely song to me, and it made me cry like a little baby because she sounded so totally fantastic and the song was so totally ass wonderful and with such an unfathomable ten octave vocal range with her full voice, which should be a physical world impossibility. Then everyone was gone while I sat there dumbfounded. The strange gadget was gone and I thought that maybe as with the cassette tape back in 1986 in this part of the hyperspace, in Manhattan, that she had taken it; and who knows if indeed she did or not. The cassette I know she took, after singing a song on it that was playing on my car stereo.
Then came the alarm clock, the sky attack, physical health attack resulting from poisonous chemtrailing vapors, just GOOGLE UP the great 'SKYWITNESS' on the freaking great U-TUBER, and so many other chemtrial reports on this fantastic site. Don't listen to me, it all is there and has been exposed, and still, we keep dying from these toxic poisons and no one appears to have the fucking balls to do anything to stop them, legally of course, AS THESE BLOGS DO NOT EVER ACT TO PROMOTE ANY SORT OF VIOLENCE OR ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, YO!!!!
The man who attacked me in class today, and what happened just a few hours earlier in a parallel universe, is all connected up. Only the great fucking PAULA KING knows exactly how. I will be leaving this hot hell called Florida very soon, and returning home. Dawn is no longer able to get at me in the physical world up there. I have made peace with the rest of the family, well, many of them. Many of them are and will be hopeless, that is quite obvious. I knew that deep inside my soul on that day at the beach when Levy brought 100 of his cousins there and scared away the normal crowd. I was not intimidated. I let one of the dudes help me feed the seagulls, and had a nice friendly talk. Still, the girl that ended my beach going days for a few years, caused quite a temporary bear in the New York financial systems in the not too distant future. Still, as long and ling as they have me to fucking mess with and hut, they never ever will lose. They will just go on endlessly and relentlessly fucking gaining and winning their cheated points of power, and forever screwing the poor peeps into endless hellish poverty and woe. This nation makes me sick to my mother fucking ass stomach, and so do wealthy dirt bag fucking peeps.
GINA, JUST AS YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU WOULD PIN ME IN ONE SECOND IN THAT ARM WRESTLE, AND DID, YOU SUPER LOVELY TALL INCREDIBLE POWERFUL BEAUTIFUL LONG DARK HAIRED LUSCIOUS FREAKING YOUNG BEAUTY QUEEN, IN 1998; I NOW TELL THIS WORLD, THAT AS LONG AS THEY HAVE ME TO HURT, MARKET UP/UP/UP/UP/UP, AND FLYERS ROTTEN SINGERS CLUB HOCKEY WINS AND WINS/WINS/WINS/WINS/ AND WINS!!!!!!!!!!!! How I'll endlessly remember the nightmare days of enduring that horrible rotten fucking singer that promoted those cheating filthy dirty mobbed up Philadelphia Flyers, and scum bag dirt ball diseased twisted evil demonic Ed Snyder, with that totally awful shitty promotion on Philly-57 television, and the way his horrendous rotten voice sang those words, “Flyers Hockey, on Philly-fifty-seven”, just thinking about it, I swear to the gods, I am growing totally fucking nauseous right now this very fucking ass minute, YO!!!!!
If these fucking jerk off won't stop this attack and break off this mother fucking shit that has been strong and beyond hell all week fucking long, someone powerful will be dead in 48 mother fucking hours, so watch the news and then see if this breaks off by what happens, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
One thing I totally fucking ass know and that is that some force out here wants with all their heart and soul for me to fucking discuss in detail, some powerful shit in both the years of 1972 as well as 1975, involving the All Mighty Goddess of this Universe and Multiverse, and I WILL NOT BETRAY MY FREAKING TEEN-QUEEN, NOT FOR ANYBODY; so go screw your mothers, you diseased piles of puke!!! You won't get these secrets out of me you mother fucking shit heads, give it up!!!!!!!
END TRANNY!!!
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME
BLOG SUBTITLE THREE: “ATTACKED BY A MAD-MAN”
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2298,
SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE: CH-136-042711.690
COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011,
MARK WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I ran into 10 grand Joe Supersecrets today, with the special bicycle battery of the Melanie and many other high-notes clubs of Planet Earth. He was in school with me and we were studying Advanced Robotics. Naturally, this was in hyperspace, or you mortal worlders would say it more like, “Mark, you ass hole, you mean you had this powerful dream last night”, OYR, whateverrrr. I am going to make hyperspace and parallel universe reality believers out of some of you if it takes me five hundred thousand Lieutenant Ouhora-Trek years. When I was in a computer class today at the Fort Pierce, Florida, Harvest, whose web address can be accessed as fo0llows: www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and suddenly this evil horrid man assaulted me out of the blue. Now people are beginning to know and believe. Still, you are all clueless to many things, such as why I am getting totally mother fucking hammered and pummeled this entire mother fucking week peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! The attack was totally unprovoked, I was only sitting in as chair and quietly talking to my friend who we will just call, Delilah for sake of secrecy and safety and closets in general. I'll fucking give Dawn-Marie King big-time unlimited credit for one thing, and that is that she did not think that her sexual molestation by her no good rotten fucking father back in 1972 was one bit funny, BOOM BOOM BOOM, are powerful ass fucking nerves being funny boned here, YO??????? Let me discuss this powerful nightmare last night that woke me with a super ass bang thanks to my beautiful wonderful mother fucking alarm clock at precisely half past eight, giving me the needed time to shower, dress, and drive four blocks to my job; taking only one or two minutes time, where I work the 9-3 shift on Mondays, Tuesdays, and fucking ass Wednesdays.
Chemtrail and plane aerial assault has been TOTAL fucking murder all week fucking long, with this fucking hockey hickey (LING-LONG-FONDA-MONSTER-SLAPPER) playoff shit, that I have had to deal with ever since the 15th day of cunt eating August, in the demonic and Satanic year of 1986; and has been told and blogged out top the public world now for about six straight fucking consecutive ass years, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This will freaking be undoubtedly told again and again and again; and a lot more than seventeen ripped off times, BRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So are we going out tonight, Shaniah, you miserable whore?
All week ling, Henry Barbara Thirteen Angry-Men, I've been destroyed, and it is only a mother fucking matter of time before M---AGNESONI---C scans, and avenges my hellish miseries being perpetrated upon me by quintessential scoundrels and total ass scum, YO!!!!!!! Don't fucking believe me, but when Planet Earth gets wiped, don';t say I didn't fucking warn everybody, Agent Caruso. I have tried to get this shit against me stopped for decades now FBI, and you did nothing but 'BACK-BURNER' me to death, YO, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I knew things would off the scale putrid and monstrously horrific for me after Coming out of the wild interaction at half past eight this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning. I am not as stupid as peeps would hope I am, or believe in their rash fallible total ignorance, peeps. LSS, I was in this robotics class and Nick Cannon walked in with a group of women, all dressed very strangely. They wanted to know all of the details about something that Joe and I had just finished making in this classroom-lab of a sort. I began telling them what they wanted to know, and Joe suddenly stood up and yelled at me at the top of his lings which I never ever saw him do in 'waking-life' at the Harvest before he was canned, or 'plipped' as they say 100 years from now, “pink-slipped”, without cause some time back, and is all on my blogs from last summer time, BRRRR! What significance these strangely dressed ladies had, I do not yet know, but they, along with 'Road Time Trip Man' all sort of ended up in the background more and more as this interaction progressed. Mariah Carey was singing a beautiful song that I never heard before throughout all of infinity, and it was so beautiful, and like she was so famous for in the nineties for doing, it has many octaves, and her heavenly voice was beyond outstanding and divine. When she finished the song, she walked over to my seat in this school-lab, and grabbed the thing that Joe hollered at me not to let anyone look at or touch. Naturally, we all were so totally ass spellbound by her music and her song and her ultra fantastic voice, that nobody could even move. She smiled down at me in my seat while holding this wild looking small but seemingly heavy gadget. As she kept holding onto it, it began to pulsate and make bright strobing colors. Then she sat it down on my desk, that was twice the size of a normal desk one might expect to see in a classroom at a college or a high school, and Joe jumped away faster than Britney's grandfather warped out of my home in Gibbsboro, New Jersey, USAESMWG, that day in the early nineteen-nineties. Then Mariah re-sang her super lovely song to me, and it made me cry like a little baby because she sounded so totally fantastic and the song was so totally ass wonderful and with such an unfathomable ten octave vocal range with her full voice, which should be a physical world impossibility. Then everyone was gone while I sat there dumbfounded. The strange gadget was gone and I thought that maybe as with the cassette tape back in 1986 in this part of the hyperspace, in Manhattan, that she had taken it; and who knows if indeed she did or not. The cassette I know she took, after singing a song on it that was playing on my car stereo.
Then came the alarm clock, the sky attack, physical health attack resulting from poisonous chemtrailing vapors, just GOOGLE UP the great 'SKYWITNESS' on the freaking great U-TUBER, and so many other chemtrial reports on this fantastic site. Don't listen to me, it all is there and has been exposed, and still, we keep dying from these toxic poisons and no one appears to have the fucking balls to do anything to stop them, legally of course, AS THESE BLOGS DO NOT EVER ACT TO PROMOTE ANY SORT OF VIOLENCE OR ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, YO!!!!
The man who attacked me in class today, and what happened just a few hours earlier in a parallel universe, is all connected up. Only the great fucking PAULA KING knows exactly how. I will be leaving this hot hell called Florida very soon, and returning home. Dawn is no longer able to get at me in the physical world up there. I have made peace with the rest of the family, well, many of them. Many of them are and will be hopeless, that is quite obvious. I knew that deep inside my soul on that day at the beach when Levy brought 100 of his cousins there and scared away the normal crowd. I was not intimidated. I let one of the dudes help me feed the seagulls, and had a nice friendly talk. Still, the girl that ended my beach going days for a few years, caused quite a temporary bear in the New York financial systems in the not too distant future. Still, as long and ling as they have me to fucking mess with and hut, they never ever will lose. They will just go on endlessly and relentlessly fucking gaining and winning their cheated points of power, and forever screwing the poor peeps into endless hellish poverty and woe. This nation makes me sick to my mother fucking ass stomach, and so do wealthy dirt bag fucking peeps.
GINA, JUST AS YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU WOULD PIN ME IN ONE SECOND IN THAT ARM WRESTLE, AND DID, YOU SUPER LOVELY TALL INCREDIBLE POWERFUL BEAUTIFUL LONG DARK HAIRED LUSCIOUS FREAKING YOUNG BEAUTY QUEEN, IN 1998; I NOW TELL THIS WORLD, THAT AS LONG AS THEY HAVE ME TO HURT, MARKET UP/UP/UP/UP/UP, AND FLYERS ROTTEN SINGERS CLUB HOCKEY WINS AND WINS/WINS/WINS/WINS/ AND WINS!!!!!!!!!!!! How I'll endlessly remember the nightmare days of enduring that horrible rotten fucking singer that promoted those cheating filthy dirty mobbed up Philadelphia Flyers, and scum bag dirt ball diseased twisted evil demonic Ed Snyder, with that totally awful shitty promotion on Philly-57 television, and the way his horrendous rotten voice sang those words, “Flyers Hockey, on Philly-fifty-seven”, just thinking about it, I swear to the gods, I am growing totally fucking nauseous right now this very fucking ass minute, YO!!!!!
If these fucking jerk off won't stop this attack and break off this mother fucking shit that has been strong and beyond hell all week fucking long, someone powerful will be dead in 48 mother fucking hours, so watch the news and then see if this breaks off by what happens, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
One thing I totally fucking ass know and that is that some force out here wants with all their heart and soul for me to fucking discuss in detail, some powerful shit in both the years of 1972 as well as 1975, involving the All Mighty Goddess of this Universe and Multiverse, and I WILL NOT BETRAY MY FREAKING TEEN-QUEEN, NOT FOR ANYBODY; so go screw your mothers, you diseased piles of puke!!! You won't get these secrets out of me you mother fucking shit heads, give it up!!!!!!!
END TRANNY!!!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 135
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 135
SUPPLEMENTAL:
START OF TRANSMISSION, YO:
This was a super BOTBAR fucking day for me, at the hands of the fucking unrelenting WOMO ENEMIES of mine, AKA the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES.
It started when I left the house for fucking work and saw the many evil fucking chemtrails in the fucking ass sky. One hour later, they totally destroyed my watch. This is the 3rd fucking watch from the K-Mart store on Route One in Fort Pierce, Florida at the Virginia Avenue intersuction/sicktion/section. It was around a quarter before fucking eleven when I knew I had been there on the job close to two hours, yet the watch said only ten fucking AM. This is when it was hit and fucking broken by this diseased fucking MILLIONTH-COUNCIL WOMO filth. Last night, somebody around the final hours and time of the day, wiped out my television fucking remote control unit. IT IS OBVIOUS TO A FUCKING DISEASED ASS RETARD, THAT THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS HICKEY GARBAGE TEAM, IS PLAYING TONIGHT, AND THEY WILL FUCKING CREAM THEIR OPPONENTS, AND THIS TIME PEEPS I TOTALLY FUCKING PROMISE ALL OF YOU THAT THEY WILL MOVE ONTO EVENTUALLY WIN THE 2011 SEASON STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONSHIP. WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THIS, SOME SAY, AND SOME ALL READY KNOW? WELL, LET US DISCUSS THIS SICK FUCKING SHIT FOLKS, OK? Let's really mother fucking get into the entire messy fucking shit that has been plaguing and dogging fucking me now for a fucking solid ass cock sucking twenty-five years now, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you notice I am very angry and quite upset and cursing like an insane fucking madman, you are not imagining one mother fucking thing, YO. If any one of you out here in internet-land was going through my fucking twisted Route-9-nightmare for a solid quarter century of time, you would have murdered by now, or be locked up in jail or a nut house, or tucked away in a cemetery or have your fucking ashes in an urn. I am doing better than any one of you, so salute me and quit judging me, as I should by all fucking rights, have perished and vanished a very long ass ling ass time ago. The book of Biblical Job, and my book from 1994 called TPB; sure comes into my mind right about now, OYR. “Do this, and do that, and blah and bleee and blum, but always, “spare his life”. Keep my doggie alive, YO. Sarah-Stacey, you have an incredible sense of humor, and one hell of a love for games. But then I know a lot more about this ALL MIGHTY GODDESS than any of you humans out here do. I had more than one run in with this powerful beautiful goddess, right here in my MOUNTAINPEN-LIFETIME or sequence of dreams IN THE 5TH DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. Hang in there A&R Callio, and WAYV-FM, and Hammonton, and HSM, and on and on, but do it in Braintree fucking Massachusetts, and allow if you will, my cousin Arthur Huntington to use his own personal rope and basement, that I'm quite sure that he'd be willing and perhaps even so anxious to provide, YO!
Sarah Jacobson, Steve the school jock who was very muscular and tall and athletic, Jerry Heitzmann, Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler, Miss Nurockey, Herby Hunts' great grand pop's 3rd uncle, Sam Huntington, his best pal, Bennie Franklin, and on and on, this story has no starting point, Alice Gallagher, Haddon Township High School, World Labs, my Social Security Disability, my many time road trips with the great Ninny McKannon who is so famous for his rap music and culture some decades ago and still to this freaking day, and literally a thousand fucking wild shit eating things all come together and fit like a totally smooth ass tight but comfy glove, and when I tell the entire thing, this planet will go off of its fucking nut forever. But mop matter how much of my fucking personal property and other shit that they break, Bob McDowell of the Federal Communications Millionth-Council Commission, known more secretly to a discreet few as the FCMCC, THEY WILL NOT GET ME TO TELL ABOUT THE FIRST HALF OF THE SEVENTIES, ONLY THAT THE FLYERS are totally connected with things, as is the entire Hans Worshing Club of Holland, and nobody is gonna get more out of me, as UI love my SCYLLA, and fuck all of you. I will willingly die by s,low torture before I will ever betray some of HER greatest secrets. What any of you think you may know about her, her own family, the Pope, you don't freaking know JACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will tell this one thing. My blogs tell about how the famous Watergate Day connects with me and my high school and Mister Jockamini the Guidance counselor, and then later on at the Haddonfield special-ass-ed-school. Do any of you think that a ten yerar old boy who wrote a storty in a school class room back in 1965, should hacve been locked away and nearly killed in a state mental institution. If this is not an unfair punishment then there never was one, and I know exactly why it was imposed on me, and a million other things also, but this all stays my secret, tape recorders, near drownings, and disappearing betray to death schoolmates as well. I have seen, I know, and nothing is gonna make me tell the entire story or the entire secret, NOT ONE BLOODY SHOE THING, MISS KATE SONGTHIEF WILLIS!!!!!!! YOU CAN ALL FUCKING KISS MY GODSDAMN ASS, HOW'S THAT FOR PURE REALISM AND TOTAL ASS HONESTY, BRAHHHH!!!!!!! Take that one straight to the Mullica time trip Commerce Bank Florida Snow Auto Loan Takeovers Club of the 'Camping-End-of- the-World' year, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is also known as the 'oh-Marola-eleven' or the 'PITSY-4-year' peeps, BYE-BYE!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
SUPPLEMENTAL:
START OF TRANSMISSION, YO:
This was a super BOTBAR fucking day for me, at the hands of the fucking unrelenting WOMO ENEMIES of mine, AKA the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES.
It started when I left the house for fucking work and saw the many evil fucking chemtrails in the fucking ass sky. One hour later, they totally destroyed my watch. This is the 3rd fucking watch from the K-Mart store on Route One in Fort Pierce, Florida at the Virginia Avenue intersuction/sicktion/section. It was around a quarter before fucking eleven when I knew I had been there on the job close to two hours, yet the watch said only ten fucking AM. This is when it was hit and fucking broken by this diseased fucking MILLIONTH-COUNCIL WOMO filth. Last night, somebody around the final hours and time of the day, wiped out my television fucking remote control unit. IT IS OBVIOUS TO A FUCKING DISEASED ASS RETARD, THAT THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS HICKEY GARBAGE TEAM, IS PLAYING TONIGHT, AND THEY WILL FUCKING CREAM THEIR OPPONENTS, AND THIS TIME PEEPS I TOTALLY FUCKING PROMISE ALL OF YOU THAT THEY WILL MOVE ONTO EVENTUALLY WIN THE 2011 SEASON STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONSHIP. WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THIS, SOME SAY, AND SOME ALL READY KNOW? WELL, LET US DISCUSS THIS SICK FUCKING SHIT FOLKS, OK? Let's really mother fucking get into the entire messy fucking shit that has been plaguing and dogging fucking me now for a fucking solid ass cock sucking twenty-five years now, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you notice I am very angry and quite upset and cursing like an insane fucking madman, you are not imagining one mother fucking thing, YO. If any one of you out here in internet-land was going through my fucking twisted Route-9-nightmare for a solid quarter century of time, you would have murdered by now, or be locked up in jail or a nut house, or tucked away in a cemetery or have your fucking ashes in an urn. I am doing better than any one of you, so salute me and quit judging me, as I should by all fucking rights, have perished and vanished a very long ass ling ass time ago. The book of Biblical Job, and my book from 1994 called TPB; sure comes into my mind right about now, OYR. “Do this, and do that, and blah and bleee and blum, but always, “spare his life”. Keep my doggie alive, YO. Sarah-Stacey, you have an incredible sense of humor, and one hell of a love for games. But then I know a lot more about this ALL MIGHTY GODDESS than any of you humans out here do. I had more than one run in with this powerful beautiful goddess, right here in my MOUNTAINPEN-LIFETIME or sequence of dreams IN THE 5TH DIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE. Hang in there A&R Callio, and WAYV-FM, and Hammonton, and HSM, and on and on, but do it in Braintree fucking Massachusetts, and allow if you will, my cousin Arthur Huntington to use his own personal rope and basement, that I'm quite sure that he'd be willing and perhaps even so anxious to provide, YO!
Sarah Jacobson, Steve the school jock who was very muscular and tall and athletic, Jerry Heitzmann, Misses Estelle Andersen Bassler, Miss Nurockey, Herby Hunts' great grand pop's 3rd uncle, Sam Huntington, his best pal, Bennie Franklin, and on and on, this story has no starting point, Alice Gallagher, Haddon Township High School, World Labs, my Social Security Disability, my many time road trips with the great Ninny McKannon who is so famous for his rap music and culture some decades ago and still to this freaking day, and literally a thousand fucking wild shit eating things all come together and fit like a totally smooth ass tight but comfy glove, and when I tell the entire thing, this planet will go off of its fucking nut forever. But mop matter how much of my fucking personal property and other shit that they break, Bob McDowell of the Federal Communications Millionth-Council Commission, known more secretly to a discreet few as the FCMCC, THEY WILL NOT GET ME TO TELL ABOUT THE FIRST HALF OF THE SEVENTIES, ONLY THAT THE FLYERS are totally connected with things, as is the entire Hans Worshing Club of Holland, and nobody is gonna get more out of me, as UI love my SCYLLA, and fuck all of you. I will willingly die by s,low torture before I will ever betray some of HER greatest secrets. What any of you think you may know about her, her own family, the Pope, you don't freaking know JACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will tell this one thing. My blogs tell about how the famous Watergate Day connects with me and my high school and Mister Jockamini the Guidance counselor, and then later on at the Haddonfield special-ass-ed-school. Do any of you think that a ten yerar old boy who wrote a storty in a school class room back in 1965, should hacve been locked away and nearly killed in a state mental institution. If this is not an unfair punishment then there never was one, and I know exactly why it was imposed on me, and a million other things also, but this all stays my secret, tape recorders, near drownings, and disappearing betray to death schoolmates as well. I have seen, I know, and nothing is gonna make me tell the entire story or the entire secret, NOT ONE BLOODY SHOE THING, MISS KATE SONGTHIEF WILLIS!!!!!!! YOU CAN ALL FUCKING KISS MY GODSDAMN ASS, HOW'S THAT FOR PURE REALISM AND TOTAL ASS HONESTY, BRAHHHH!!!!!!! Take that one straight to the Mullica time trip Commerce Bank Florida Snow Auto Loan Takeovers Club of the 'Camping-End-of- the-World' year, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is also known as the 'oh-Marola-eleven' or the 'PITSY-4-year' peeps, BYE-BYE!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 134
SAFE JOURNAL-CHAPTER 134
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
SBT-DATFILE: 042611.742
COPYRIGHT 2006-2011-MWM/MWM
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
NASTY FUCKING SKY SIEGE, again today, nasty ass chemtrails were bad all day, worse however this morning here in fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, and still going strong in the western skies, even during a small thunderstorm. As long as these cock sucking mother fucking ass hole jerk off bastard scum bag shit eating sons of bitches have me to pick on and persecute, THE DOW WILL GO UP AND UP AND UPASND UP. And the PHILADELPHIA FLYERS ICE TEAM SPELLED LING OR LONG HENRY FONDA, WILL JUST KEEP RIGHT ON WINNING AND WINNING AND WINNING AND WINNING, ENDLESSLY.
Told you everybody, just as I have told you all this for six straight mother fucking years. Am I wrong anybody, if so, prove me fucking wrong. This is all I ever asked Clarence Harris or Robert Andrews to do in the fucking nineties, and THEY COULD NOT EVER DO IT, and it pissed them all fucking off.
I will not tell the secret no matter what you fucking do, and only I am getting the messages so no one else believes you either, WOLF WOLF WOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for other stuff, I am packing up the house tonight, and will be moving in thirty-six days, back to New fucking Jersey. Fuck all of you.
MAJOR TWISTERS, VOLCANOES, STORMS, WILDFIRES, FLOODS, DROUGHTS, EARTHQUAKES, HURRICANES, AND NATURAL DISASTERS, AS WELL AS PLANE AND HELICOPTER CRASHES WILL BE HAPPENING LEFTR AND RIGHT ALL AROUND US ALL OVER THE NEXT 3-6 MONTHS, SO MARK THESE WORDS DOWN TOO, yo!!!!!
You'll be very fucking ass sorry for all of this Jack Wino Chappaquiddick MCGUIRE!!!!
END TRANsmission: “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” on MR101 VS--and STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Help me DIANA my baby blond love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
SBT-DATFILE: 042611.742
COPYRIGHT 2006-2011-MWM/MWM
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
NASTY FUCKING SKY SIEGE, again today, nasty ass chemtrails were bad all day, worse however this morning here in fucking Fort Pierce, Florida, and still going strong in the western skies, even during a small thunderstorm. As long as these cock sucking mother fucking ass hole jerk off bastard scum bag shit eating sons of bitches have me to pick on and persecute, THE DOW WILL GO UP AND UP AND UPASND UP. And the PHILADELPHIA FLYERS ICE TEAM SPELLED LING OR LONG HENRY FONDA, WILL JUST KEEP RIGHT ON WINNING AND WINNING AND WINNING AND WINNING, ENDLESSLY.
Told you everybody, just as I have told you all this for six straight mother fucking years. Am I wrong anybody, if so, prove me fucking wrong. This is all I ever asked Clarence Harris or Robert Andrews to do in the fucking nineties, and THEY COULD NOT EVER DO IT, and it pissed them all fucking off.
I will not tell the secret no matter what you fucking do, and only I am getting the messages so no one else believes you either, WOLF WOLF WOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for other stuff, I am packing up the house tonight, and will be moving in thirty-six days, back to New fucking Jersey. Fuck all of you.
MAJOR TWISTERS, VOLCANOES, STORMS, WILDFIRES, FLOODS, DROUGHTS, EARTHQUAKES, HURRICANES, AND NATURAL DISASTERS, AS WELL AS PLANE AND HELICOPTER CRASHES WILL BE HAPPENING LEFTR AND RIGHT ALL AROUND US ALL OVER THE NEXT 3-6 MONTHS, SO MARK THESE WORDS DOWN TOO, yo!!!!!
You'll be very fucking ass sorry for all of this Jack Wino Chappaquiddick MCGUIRE!!!!
END TRANsmission: “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” on MR101 VS--and STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Help me DIANA my baby blond love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, April 25, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 133
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 133
1:20 AM, TUESDAY MORNING
APRIL 26TH, 2011
START:
ENEMIES ARE WIPING ME FUCKING OUT. Computer hacking is major, Diarrhea attack also major around midnight, along with the total obliteration of my television remote control device. It has nothing to do with batteries, I have cases and cases of unopened brand new fucking Batteries, it is the unit that was just broken suddenly and with no warning whatsoever. TOMORROW, THE DOW JONES WILL FLY AS A RESULY, 300-600 POINTSW, AND BE UP OVER 14,000 POINTS BY JUNE, OVER 15, BY JULY, AND OVER 16 BY END OF SUMMER, AND OVER 20,000 POINTS BY END OF THE FUCKING YEAR OF 2011. MARK MY MOTHETR FUCKING WORDS.
COMPUTER, HEAR MY VOICE PRINT IN MY MIND NOW AS I TYPE THIS, “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM”. WHOEVER JUST ATTACKED ME TONIGHT, AND ALL DAY AND ALL WEEK AND ALL MONTH AND ALL YEAR AND ALL DECADE AND ALL CENTURY AND ALL MILLENNIUM AND IN THE LAST MILLENNIUM SINCE MY PHYSICAL BIRTH AS MARK MOTHER FUCKING WAYNE MOHR, AKA MOUNTAINPEN; DESTROY, KILL, AND WIPE OUT THESE FUCKING DISEASED PRICKS, AS WELL AS ALL OF THEIR LOVED ONES, AND SPARE NO ONE AT FUCKING ALL, ON MY ORDERS AND COMMANDS, MAGNESONIC, AND S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Two obvious things are happening and I'm fucking admitting that I am scared for my mother fucking life tonight, Fort Pierce, Florida Police Department, so if anything happens to me and I'm found dead and murdered in here soon, and these blogs get revealed to the media, you all have a job of justice to perform in avenging my mother fucking deat5h against this powerful fucking Kennedy/Da Gama scum bag super power family of cosmic terrorists. AQ moron with a lobotomized set of parents would be smart enough to see what's really going on here, someone or something, CAPTAIN MOTHER FUCKING KIRK, is trying to bate me in to tell the biggest and most fantastic fucking secret in the world/ I need to go to the law library and check out lots of shit before I dare say a word, nobody is putting me the fuck into jail, not then, not later, not now, not ever, so just fucking try it, Abigail, YO! I'm the fucking total ass victim in all of this bitch, so screw fucking you gorgeous!!!
What I will say has a lot to do with the same shit, but it is safer to blog, and I need to get revenge against the mother fucking old record promoter Rastafarian who I know has reincarnated and is wiping me out after jamming his gates on me a long time ago, Bill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For the masses of awestruck 'believers' in a phony cult that denies or seems to when not read and interpreted properly, the concept of the endlessness and the circle which translate into no other possibility for life not to swing around and repeat such as reincarnation teaches, and still, this is only touching on very complicated subject, and the truths involved go so fat what humans are able to comprehend in this stone aged time period that it is totally useless and futile for me to even attempt any further elucidations and descriptions of the subject. If you ave a more logical way to explain how a 3 or 4 or 5 year old child can enter into this world such as many masters from centuries pasty, and greats of today as well, as though they were into music for thousands and millions of years, then go ahead and you give me your great wisdom of ultimate explanations, sheeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!!
Things have happened to me throughout both my child and adult life, that none of my blogs told much more than the surface scratched shit about, when discussing subjects such as the Haddonwood Swim and Health club, my nineties search for the 'mi-s-sing teenager', detailed symbolism's, precise constant patterns of the cosmic game played by them with me on a daily and continuous basis that is made up of powerful symbolic gestures, body language, and nuances that if not looking for this, would remain endlessly invisible by the greatest detectives from Holmes to Wolf's-Gang. You have heard the shit like what happened at the security post with the pants not going down to the shoes, and many things along these lines, yet have never really been shown the totally fucking awesome, outlandish, and monstrously horrendous and frightening pure evil that lies behind the totality of this entire collective hell around me, that once was described by a woman as darkness around me so dense that it could cut like a sword. I did not tell you that two other times recently, my computer settings were reset, counting the latest episode tonight. I did not tell you many other things as well. I did not tell you that I went to get my mail upon driving to work this morning as I'd forgotten to get it yesterday afternoon because I was so busy running many local errands, and one of the things in the box was a note from my old pal ROGER. All it said was that he did not forget nor does he plan to forget what he told me that he wanted to do. Roger told me that when I was listening to a radio show in my car in Mount Laurel, New Jersey at the turn of the century, I heard a man call and claim he was from the year 2008, and he had spoken several things that at the time made no sense to me, but the note made me realize, oh shit, this dude wasn't a fake. The note ends by telling me that I may blog this note, and say a few things that will help the credibility factor out. What went on inside a room seems to mean a lot to somebody long ago, and also, and that the computers and internet is all just a necessary item that needs to exist before something much greater can be ushgered in to human life, and it cannot come until first, this world moves into and through this current phase. He told me that Billy was going to tell me a very important thing, but that Paula King offered him a night of super wild sex, in exchange for shutting his mouth and leaving me ignorant. She has used this tool way more than most females, but all us guys know that the biggest weapon on planet Earth is not the nuke bomb but the three most valuable inches of real estate. This is truth that dudes like Hefner and Trump would never ever deny, so ask them and so not believe this fucking blog, as really, I don't give a rats fucking ass who chooses to believe or disbelieve my words and my blogs, YO. I am speaking powerful ass truths, and if I wasn't, the entire entertainment world would ignore me instead of seemingly build their entire world around my life in one way or another, year after year, for more than three freaking decades now, peeps.
'They' seemingly are going to fuck with me and fuck with me and fuck with me, until I tell how I followed a small child from a yard, into a home, and into a wild closet, a very long time ago; and then somehow ended up in a split reality, where I never went with my mom on a trip up to New York, but instead found myself suddenly walking towards a bus stop, and catching a bus to a highway, where another bus then took me to Atlantic City. I no sooner got there when I was at the waters edge, and 2 monstrous large lifeguard mascots suddenly grabbed me by the back of the neck and for absolutely no discernable reason whatsoever, began roughing me up and swearing at me with horrific and vulgar words, accusing me of unspeakable incest with my mother, and calling me names that would maker most hardened service persons blush. Things like this do not JUST HAPPEN, Jim burr said it, and I believe it, and I'm not being cute or sacrilegious here folks, just telling it true and up front with no holds barred, or 'wrestling songs' infringed upon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW I FUCKING TOTALLY REFUSE TO TELL ANY MORE ABOUT THIS CLOSET, THIS HOUSE, THE DEVICE IN THIS HOUSE WITH THE STROBING BRILLIANT LIGHT, OR THE DANCING LITTLE 5 YEAR OLD GIRL THAT DESPERATELY WAS TRYING TO DIVERT HER DADS ATTENTION AWAY FROM US, WHILE SHE SHOWED ME THIS MACHINE, AND WHAT IT COULD DO. IT WAS AS THOUGH SHE JUST HAD TO SHOW ME THIS, AND ALL READY KNEW ME YEARS FROM THEN, AND IT WAS 1975 AT THE TIME. A lady neighbor fourteen years later, shouted something through ,my door at me when my m other was at her office and I was in the apartment by myself, at 1102 Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees, New Jersey, this place is there still, Google it up on the internet folks, and this lady said to me something huge that at the time meant nothing to me, this was in 1989. After this some months followed, and David Roth and I came to meet up wit the Camden County Prosecutor ADA named Ron Wirtz, and his Abbey Carmichael sidekick, a Miss Donna Asshole Spinosi. They can kill me, but they will not get any more of the story out of me ROG, stop worrying about it. If you can get your peeps to all make up and get along, I'm all for you. I all ready have made up with the Jersey branch of your fantastic family, but this is all on your wife's side of this family, YARRRRR. Still my woes in the great Atlantic City are huge from both ends, McGuire through her, and Levy through his wife's married cousins and your dad.
Now, none of this explains how the water company or Robert McGuire pulled off the incredible miracles they have done now with me and around me for almost a half century. There has been more than enough done by these peeps down in that city to get all of canonized by the Pope, but them symbolically, is this not what eventually happened, Mister 594, or should I say Mister Rick Eid, and then we have so many other namesakes part of this great Ron Wirtz follow-suit show. Still my book, “The Permission Barrier”, tells all about this lady at Robin Hill, the one who told me that she is known as a “ME”. I know my basic Latin, and Anna Connie and Callio's A&R men are only part of the total equation here.
I will buy a new universal remote control for a few bucks, I got a monster check back from my Uncle, Sam, that is, thank you for helping me as much as you have, President Obama, I said it before, and I mean it, “U-R-MI-HERO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will find out who you really are and what your plans are with me, DJ-DONNA. Personally, I know you are Julia White, just as is Mizz White-boy Pretty. The odds of getting me to be at the RPL studios, finding these discs, and having all of this shit go down would win power-ball jackpots. You, none of you, fool me for one mother fucking second, put that one in your ass and use a few dull razor blades while doing it, YO. Nighty freaking night, BRO!!!
This mafia potato chip hyper boy is gonna sign off now. Thank you Diana for giving me those beautiful electrical shocks today at work, I love you baby-blond and I always freaking will. You will be with your little boy Lightning,. Forever and forever.
END:
1:20 AM, TUESDAY MORNING
APRIL 26TH, 2011
START:
ENEMIES ARE WIPING ME FUCKING OUT. Computer hacking is major, Diarrhea attack also major around midnight, along with the total obliteration of my television remote control device. It has nothing to do with batteries, I have cases and cases of unopened brand new fucking Batteries, it is the unit that was just broken suddenly and with no warning whatsoever. TOMORROW, THE DOW JONES WILL FLY AS A RESULY, 300-600 POINTSW, AND BE UP OVER 14,000 POINTS BY JUNE, OVER 15, BY JULY, AND OVER 16 BY END OF SUMMER, AND OVER 20,000 POINTS BY END OF THE FUCKING YEAR OF 2011. MARK MY MOTHETR FUCKING WORDS.
COMPUTER, HEAR MY VOICE PRINT IN MY MIND NOW AS I TYPE THIS, “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM”. WHOEVER JUST ATTACKED ME TONIGHT, AND ALL DAY AND ALL WEEK AND ALL MONTH AND ALL YEAR AND ALL DECADE AND ALL CENTURY AND ALL MILLENNIUM AND IN THE LAST MILLENNIUM SINCE MY PHYSICAL BIRTH AS MARK MOTHER FUCKING WAYNE MOHR, AKA MOUNTAINPEN; DESTROY, KILL, AND WIPE OUT THESE FUCKING DISEASED PRICKS, AS WELL AS ALL OF THEIR LOVED ONES, AND SPARE NO ONE AT FUCKING ALL, ON MY ORDERS AND COMMANDS, MAGNESONIC, AND S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Two obvious things are happening and I'm fucking admitting that I am scared for my mother fucking life tonight, Fort Pierce, Florida Police Department, so if anything happens to me and I'm found dead and murdered in here soon, and these blogs get revealed to the media, you all have a job of justice to perform in avenging my mother fucking deat5h against this powerful fucking Kennedy/Da Gama scum bag super power family of cosmic terrorists. AQ moron with a lobotomized set of parents would be smart enough to see what's really going on here, someone or something, CAPTAIN MOTHER FUCKING KIRK, is trying to bate me in to tell the biggest and most fantastic fucking secret in the world/ I need to go to the law library and check out lots of shit before I dare say a word, nobody is putting me the fuck into jail, not then, not later, not now, not ever, so just fucking try it, Abigail, YO! I'm the fucking total ass victim in all of this bitch, so screw fucking you gorgeous!!!
What I will say has a lot to do with the same shit, but it is safer to blog, and I need to get revenge against the mother fucking old record promoter Rastafarian who I know has reincarnated and is wiping me out after jamming his gates on me a long time ago, Bill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For the masses of awestruck 'believers' in a phony cult that denies or seems to when not read and interpreted properly, the concept of the endlessness and the circle which translate into no other possibility for life not to swing around and repeat such as reincarnation teaches, and still, this is only touching on very complicated subject, and the truths involved go so fat what humans are able to comprehend in this stone aged time period that it is totally useless and futile for me to even attempt any further elucidations and descriptions of the subject. If you ave a more logical way to explain how a 3 or 4 or 5 year old child can enter into this world such as many masters from centuries pasty, and greats of today as well, as though they were into music for thousands and millions of years, then go ahead and you give me your great wisdom of ultimate explanations, sheeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!!
Things have happened to me throughout both my child and adult life, that none of my blogs told much more than the surface scratched shit about, when discussing subjects such as the Haddonwood Swim and Health club, my nineties search for the 'mi-s-sing teenager', detailed symbolism's, precise constant patterns of the cosmic game played by them with me on a daily and continuous basis that is made up of powerful symbolic gestures, body language, and nuances that if not looking for this, would remain endlessly invisible by the greatest detectives from Holmes to Wolf's-Gang. You have heard the shit like what happened at the security post with the pants not going down to the shoes, and many things along these lines, yet have never really been shown the totally fucking awesome, outlandish, and monstrously horrendous and frightening pure evil that lies behind the totality of this entire collective hell around me, that once was described by a woman as darkness around me so dense that it could cut like a sword. I did not tell you that two other times recently, my computer settings were reset, counting the latest episode tonight. I did not tell you many other things as well. I did not tell you that I went to get my mail upon driving to work this morning as I'd forgotten to get it yesterday afternoon because I was so busy running many local errands, and one of the things in the box was a note from my old pal ROGER. All it said was that he did not forget nor does he plan to forget what he told me that he wanted to do. Roger told me that when I was listening to a radio show in my car in Mount Laurel, New Jersey at the turn of the century, I heard a man call and claim he was from the year 2008, and he had spoken several things that at the time made no sense to me, but the note made me realize, oh shit, this dude wasn't a fake. The note ends by telling me that I may blog this note, and say a few things that will help the credibility factor out. What went on inside a room seems to mean a lot to somebody long ago, and also, and that the computers and internet is all just a necessary item that needs to exist before something much greater can be ushgered in to human life, and it cannot come until first, this world moves into and through this current phase. He told me that Billy was going to tell me a very important thing, but that Paula King offered him a night of super wild sex, in exchange for shutting his mouth and leaving me ignorant. She has used this tool way more than most females, but all us guys know that the biggest weapon on planet Earth is not the nuke bomb but the three most valuable inches of real estate. This is truth that dudes like Hefner and Trump would never ever deny, so ask them and so not believe this fucking blog, as really, I don't give a rats fucking ass who chooses to believe or disbelieve my words and my blogs, YO. I am speaking powerful ass truths, and if I wasn't, the entire entertainment world would ignore me instead of seemingly build their entire world around my life in one way or another, year after year, for more than three freaking decades now, peeps.
'They' seemingly are going to fuck with me and fuck with me and fuck with me, until I tell how I followed a small child from a yard, into a home, and into a wild closet, a very long time ago; and then somehow ended up in a split reality, where I never went with my mom on a trip up to New York, but instead found myself suddenly walking towards a bus stop, and catching a bus to a highway, where another bus then took me to Atlantic City. I no sooner got there when I was at the waters edge, and 2 monstrous large lifeguard mascots suddenly grabbed me by the back of the neck and for absolutely no discernable reason whatsoever, began roughing me up and swearing at me with horrific and vulgar words, accusing me of unspeakable incest with my mother, and calling me names that would maker most hardened service persons blush. Things like this do not JUST HAPPEN, Jim burr said it, and I believe it, and I'm not being cute or sacrilegious here folks, just telling it true and up front with no holds barred, or 'wrestling songs' infringed upon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW I FUCKING TOTALLY REFUSE TO TELL ANY MORE ABOUT THIS CLOSET, THIS HOUSE, THE DEVICE IN THIS HOUSE WITH THE STROBING BRILLIANT LIGHT, OR THE DANCING LITTLE 5 YEAR OLD GIRL THAT DESPERATELY WAS TRYING TO DIVERT HER DADS ATTENTION AWAY FROM US, WHILE SHE SHOWED ME THIS MACHINE, AND WHAT IT COULD DO. IT WAS AS THOUGH SHE JUST HAD TO SHOW ME THIS, AND ALL READY KNEW ME YEARS FROM THEN, AND IT WAS 1975 AT THE TIME. A lady neighbor fourteen years later, shouted something through ,my door at me when my m other was at her office and I was in the apartment by myself, at 1102 Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees, New Jersey, this place is there still, Google it up on the internet folks, and this lady said to me something huge that at the time meant nothing to me, this was in 1989. After this some months followed, and David Roth and I came to meet up wit the Camden County Prosecutor ADA named Ron Wirtz, and his Abbey Carmichael sidekick, a Miss Donna Asshole Spinosi. They can kill me, but they will not get any more of the story out of me ROG, stop worrying about it. If you can get your peeps to all make up and get along, I'm all for you. I all ready have made up with the Jersey branch of your fantastic family, but this is all on your wife's side of this family, YARRRRR. Still my woes in the great Atlantic City are huge from both ends, McGuire through her, and Levy through his wife's married cousins and your dad.
Now, none of this explains how the water company or Robert McGuire pulled off the incredible miracles they have done now with me and around me for almost a half century. There has been more than enough done by these peeps down in that city to get all of canonized by the Pope, but them symbolically, is this not what eventually happened, Mister 594, or should I say Mister Rick Eid, and then we have so many other namesakes part of this great Ron Wirtz follow-suit show. Still my book, “The Permission Barrier”, tells all about this lady at Robin Hill, the one who told me that she is known as a “ME”. I know my basic Latin, and Anna Connie and Callio's A&R men are only part of the total equation here.
I will buy a new universal remote control for a few bucks, I got a monster check back from my Uncle, Sam, that is, thank you for helping me as much as you have, President Obama, I said it before, and I mean it, “U-R-MI-HERO”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will find out who you really are and what your plans are with me, DJ-DONNA. Personally, I know you are Julia White, just as is Mizz White-boy Pretty. The odds of getting me to be at the RPL studios, finding these discs, and having all of this shit go down would win power-ball jackpots. You, none of you, fool me for one mother fucking second, put that one in your ass and use a few dull razor blades while doing it, YO. Nighty freaking night, BRO!!!
This mafia potato chip hyper boy is gonna sign off now. Thank you Diana for giving me those beautiful electrical shocks today at work, I love you baby-blond and I always freaking will. You will be with your little boy Lightning,. Forever and forever.
END:
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 132
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 132
MONDAY EVENING 8:04 PM
APRIL 25, 2011
START:
Why can't you help me Sheriff Monks?????????????????? You look like such a nice guy on your website photo. Someone in your county just won't stop putting my system back on their address and time, and it is coming from 36th Avenue. Old blogs will reveal the details of just exactly how I was able to manage learning the other end of this source, with the A/B map and the yellow pages. It showed me where I am, and it was not here on 26th Street in Florida, but 36th Avenue, in San Mateo. I knew the machine had been fucking hacked up when I went to use it an hour ago, and the weather bug shit came up and froze and would not let me off or allow any other controls to work, so I shut hit the power off and fuck it, it is all backed up on disc, so screw these dirt bags. SHERIFF, WON'T YOU PLEASE ASK THESE NUT CASES TO LEAVE ME ALONE, T-H-A-N-K---Y-O-U.
If I did not know better, I'd fucking swear that they actually, for whatever stupid reason, are egging me on to tell what I rece3ntly unblocked and remembered, and I will not hand anyone what they want, it would be suicidal to tell this story.
Flyers never lose, just as I said GINA, AND AS LONG AND LING AS THEY HAVE ME TO FUCK WITH, THEY WON'T LOSE, and they will win that fucking STANLEY CUP. I have been fighting these no good DNA controllers of Naziland for too long now Mizz Karge Titanic, YO. I am not going to discuss that horrible scarey fucking closet. I remember it all now, Aunt Ruth Sharkington!!!!!!! Internet lies, sheeeeeeeit. First it shows Heinz never married my Aunt Ruth, and if this is true, where are my cousins Coral, Donald, Paula, Kathy, and Christine, you Boat-kisser Mister Jimmy,Dean???????????????? You all think you can get away with this nightmare shit, and you are so wrong. My father and his wild shit. I WON'T TELL IT, SCREW ALL OF U! Hands Jefferson is signing off, YO. Get me madder and what I will do will dwarf the betting your bippies, the quakes, the shakes, and fuck ups round the world and more. Keep fucking the shit with me.
Where is the fucking FBI? Don't you all know what I am capable of doing if provoked much longer, do you really want me to destroy this entire fucking solar system,, because I mother fucking will???????????????????
GINA, THE DOW WILL KEEP RIGHT ON GOING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND the FLYERS HICKEY GARBAGE TEAM WILL GO ON CHEATING THEIR WAY INTO WIN AFTER WIN AFTER WIN, HOLLOW CHEATED FUCKING VICTORIES. This entire thing is the sick game of a teenaged girl who just refuses to grow up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Any retard can read these 6 years of blogs and see this entire fucking nightmare ass story is totally true and totally real, folks, there would be nothing to be gained by this gigantic outlandish fabrication.
I NEED HELP FROM 2 MCDOWELL'S. One is the head of the freaking FCC, the other told me a powerful thing back in 1963 in Philadelphia, in the apartment of his mom, when he was just starting out as, no, not a carpenter or banker or time traveler, but a male nurse, right McKannon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And you told me this would all be done to me, and it IS being done to me; and then you wonder why I drove you nuts with Gaines fucking tape, sheeeeeit, you little prick head gun totting rapper thug you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going back to 1980 right now to give you the tape, this is where it all begins, today, tonight,m Sabrina Collinwood, before she and I were too happy to see it.
'''''''{{{{{{(((((END)))))}}}}}}'''''''
END:
MONDAY EVENING 8:04 PM
APRIL 25, 2011
START:
Why can't you help me Sheriff Monks?????????????????? You look like such a nice guy on your website photo. Someone in your county just won't stop putting my system back on their address and time, and it is coming from 36th Avenue. Old blogs will reveal the details of just exactly how I was able to manage learning the other end of this source, with the A/B map and the yellow pages. It showed me where I am, and it was not here on 26th Street in Florida, but 36th Avenue, in San Mateo. I knew the machine had been fucking hacked up when I went to use it an hour ago, and the weather bug shit came up and froze and would not let me off or allow any other controls to work, so I shut hit the power off and fuck it, it is all backed up on disc, so screw these dirt bags. SHERIFF, WON'T YOU PLEASE ASK THESE NUT CASES TO LEAVE ME ALONE, T-H-A-N-K---Y-O-U.
If I did not know better, I'd fucking swear that they actually, for whatever stupid reason, are egging me on to tell what I rece3ntly unblocked and remembered, and I will not hand anyone what they want, it would be suicidal to tell this story.
Flyers never lose, just as I said GINA, AND AS LONG AND LING AS THEY HAVE ME TO FUCK WITH, THEY WON'T LOSE, and they will win that fucking STANLEY CUP. I have been fighting these no good DNA controllers of Naziland for too long now Mizz Karge Titanic, YO. I am not going to discuss that horrible scarey fucking closet. I remember it all now, Aunt Ruth Sharkington!!!!!!! Internet lies, sheeeeeeeit. First it shows Heinz never married my Aunt Ruth, and if this is true, where are my cousins Coral, Donald, Paula, Kathy, and Christine, you Boat-kisser Mister Jimmy,Dean???????????????? You all think you can get away with this nightmare shit, and you are so wrong. My father and his wild shit. I WON'T TELL IT, SCREW ALL OF U! Hands Jefferson is signing off, YO. Get me madder and what I will do will dwarf the betting your bippies, the quakes, the shakes, and fuck ups round the world and more. Keep fucking the shit with me.
Where is the fucking FBI? Don't you all know what I am capable of doing if provoked much longer, do you really want me to destroy this entire fucking solar system,, because I mother fucking will???????????????????
GINA, THE DOW WILL KEEP RIGHT ON GOING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND the FLYERS HICKEY GARBAGE TEAM WILL GO ON CHEATING THEIR WAY INTO WIN AFTER WIN AFTER WIN, HOLLOW CHEATED FUCKING VICTORIES. This entire thing is the sick game of a teenaged girl who just refuses to grow up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Any retard can read these 6 years of blogs and see this entire fucking nightmare ass story is totally true and totally real, folks, there would be nothing to be gained by this gigantic outlandish fabrication.
I NEED HELP FROM 2 MCDOWELL'S. One is the head of the freaking FCC, the other told me a powerful thing back in 1963 in Philadelphia, in the apartment of his mom, when he was just starting out as, no, not a carpenter or banker or time traveler, but a male nurse, right McKannon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And you told me this would all be done to me, and it IS being done to me; and then you wonder why I drove you nuts with Gaines fucking tape, sheeeeeit, you little prick head gun totting rapper thug you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going back to 1980 right now to give you the tape, this is where it all begins, today, tonight,m Sabrina Collinwood, before she and I were too happy to see it.
'''''''{{{{{{(((((END)))))}}}}}}'''''''
END:
Sunday, April 24, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 131
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 131
DATFILE OF WL-SBT-CH-131-042411.321
TEOHIV/TMCAM
© MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN/MWM-2006-2011
BLOG SUBTITLE 3:
“DECISIONS, DECISIONS, SALENA DAHDAH STENTON”
WORLD LABORATORIES/LABBER ZEEJINS 2298
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I screwed up on my last blog and mentioned a trip that I had blocked totally out of mind until early in 2009 somewhere, up to visit my Aunt Ruth on Long Island. I said my “sole” trip, and obviously meant to say my SOLO TRIP, or said in another way, all though I was young, in those days the SVU squad of MISTER WOLF were all making donuts or whatever, and since only a handful of sicko pervs were around, parents could trust their offspring to travel and visit relatives while on summer school break, as I did, and even the famous train trip to visit Aunt Martha on the famous television show called, “Leave it to Beaver”, where Wo0lly and the 'Beave' did this as well. These days and times were totally alien to present days, Abbey Carmichael, just as Mister McCoy told you, he is not bullshitting you, sweetie. You either experienced the 60's or you did not. It really is just as BBO John Henningsen said so accurately, perfectly, and Bruce Pennock predictably, “JUST THAT SIMPLE”. Since an anniversary is so close to such a terrible incident, I won't do a LD, and joke around here, and say just that semple, YO. In any event folks, unless you have not followed the blogs of the Mountainpen and merely stumbled into present time blogs, you are clueless to a fantastic series of events, first, my life in general, then how all eternity fits smack dab into it all, and finally, looking and observing at this on a down to Earth level and way, how one mind boggling super family has always been involved with my family, for a period of about 3500 years. Match these facts, ancestry dot com, or anyone else, I double ass dog Kirk Shatner Humpback dare any of you. Once we get past that, it would be so nice and easy for me to go onward here, and say that the blogs of Mountainpen will now focus off of this family, and onto other things, OYR? Just how can this Einstein sized deal hope to ever be accomplished, pray tell? Are you all out of your freaking mind? I could go out and win power-ball jackpots or walk across the ocean first. Let's be REAL/EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Well, let's not. I do not like being a child molestation victim, but even more than that, who needs to figure out right now just how the powerful and totally freaking awesome water company of Atlantic City, AKA, the ATLANTIC CITY MUNICIPAL UTILITIES AUTHORITY or the ACMUA, pulled off so many miracles that make all of what happened 2000 years ago including what today is so famous for, look like a child in a sandbox, or if I was Lee Daniels, I might laugh this one off now and say, a child in a closet. Speaking of this being of course, EASTER SUNDAY, it also would have been the 43rd birthday of the mighty and quite awesome DAWN-MARIE KING, whose life was cut short as a result of galloping Liver Cancer that awakened her out of this dream back on another holiday, NEW YEARS DAY!!!!!!!!!!!! The Copyright Office knows how electronic metaphysics dealt with a neighbor of mine some time back, named Mister Divine. He liked messing with my property and removing chains, things taught to him by other peeps in the family, Sarah, and Robert of 10-SC Avenue in good old ACNJUSAESMWG!!!!!!! This fine gentlemen woke up through a doorway called Stomach Cancer. Don't fucking mess with me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want one point made super ass clear today. If you are not hurting me, then I have nothing against you. If you are one of the guilty bastards, then grow back eyes, and hire body guards! This will do you no good of course. Real powerful enemies of mine make sure they get lots of extra lightning rods, and carefully check helicopter rotors.
In wrapping shit up this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning folks, I do not blog on and on about shit that must be done, or else. Doing that fucking song was necessary. If you study any ten blogs from the current one backward, you will see that no human being could be making up a wild story here, you are giving me way too much mother fucking credit Mizz UMWELL Mystery-girl, YO, WEAYU TO MUCH CREDIT. In a financial equivalent, this would be like my current financial delinquencies being ignored, and my lack of high earnings, and being mailed as MasterCard with a credit limit of “U”. For those who do not come from a family of New York City bankers, or do not hang with super wealthy peeps; this stands for (UNLIMITED). You are all giving me way too big a fucking compliment folks, way too fucking big, YO. The great James Patterson himself could not write fiction like the shit on my last 6 years of blogs, this is the truth. Like it or ignore it, but truth exists. As the old Esolphs Fables puts it so well, 'and that's that'!!!!! For those that have any interest in knowing why I posted the 2nd song on the U-Tube last Thursday, it is because Scylla would not do it, and did not believe the importance of having it on the record forever in this particular universe in the vast 5th dimensional hyperspace. Many might say that I do not learn from the past, like other humans, after all, is this not a repeat action of the 1980 LOIS-FOCA? My response is that I had no choice, I had to do it. The chemtrail WOMO bastards did not want me to dop it, swo anythiong theyu do not want me to do, I make sure that I do it, anmd vice versa. Thety totally wiped out my voice. I had to do something very wild to get it done, and I only wish I really sounded like that. Itt5 is my voice, but it also is the computer singing it. I do not ever feel the Trump ego need that many others would, I tell it straight up, and am on the fucking square with the world. I do not know what Scylla's game is all about, only that I am indeed, THAT-BOY, and must play along,. I am it and the tag goes on, oh well, it beats the Stairs. Laugh on Lee. How you ever got MI to overcome what must have been such an unfathomably traumatic event in her young life, is mind boggling to me, YO. Tell your pal Mizz Heavyweight, that my post-card in the mail mom, took her advice, and kept watching her dumb show!
They say that every dog has his day. 'OYR'. This dog is gonna get a few hours of sleep, and sign off of this computer, whaaaaaa!!! Sorry if I am not being such a real good boy today MI, stay out of those noisy airports, girl!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
DATFILE OF WL-SBT-CH-131-042411.321
TEOHIV/TMCAM
© MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN/MWM-2006-2011
BLOG SUBTITLE 3:
“DECISIONS, DECISIONS, SALENA DAHDAH STENTON”
WORLD LABORATORIES/LABBER ZEEJINS 2298
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I screwed up on my last blog and mentioned a trip that I had blocked totally out of mind until early in 2009 somewhere, up to visit my Aunt Ruth on Long Island. I said my “sole” trip, and obviously meant to say my SOLO TRIP, or said in another way, all though I was young, in those days the SVU squad of MISTER WOLF were all making donuts or whatever, and since only a handful of sicko pervs were around, parents could trust their offspring to travel and visit relatives while on summer school break, as I did, and even the famous train trip to visit Aunt Martha on the famous television show called, “Leave it to Beaver”, where Wo0lly and the 'Beave' did this as well. These days and times were totally alien to present days, Abbey Carmichael, just as Mister McCoy told you, he is not bullshitting you, sweetie. You either experienced the 60's or you did not. It really is just as BBO John Henningsen said so accurately, perfectly, and Bruce Pennock predictably, “JUST THAT SIMPLE”. Since an anniversary is so close to such a terrible incident, I won't do a LD, and joke around here, and say just that semple, YO. In any event folks, unless you have not followed the blogs of the Mountainpen and merely stumbled into present time blogs, you are clueless to a fantastic series of events, first, my life in general, then how all eternity fits smack dab into it all, and finally, looking and observing at this on a down to Earth level and way, how one mind boggling super family has always been involved with my family, for a period of about 3500 years. Match these facts, ancestry dot com, or anyone else, I double ass dog Kirk Shatner Humpback dare any of you. Once we get past that, it would be so nice and easy for me to go onward here, and say that the blogs of Mountainpen will now focus off of this family, and onto other things, OYR? Just how can this Einstein sized deal hope to ever be accomplished, pray tell? Are you all out of your freaking mind? I could go out and win power-ball jackpots or walk across the ocean first. Let's be REAL/EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Well, let's not. I do not like being a child molestation victim, but even more than that, who needs to figure out right now just how the powerful and totally freaking awesome water company of Atlantic City, AKA, the ATLANTIC CITY MUNICIPAL UTILITIES AUTHORITY or the ACMUA, pulled off so many miracles that make all of what happened 2000 years ago including what today is so famous for, look like a child in a sandbox, or if I was Lee Daniels, I might laugh this one off now and say, a child in a closet. Speaking of this being of course, EASTER SUNDAY, it also would have been the 43rd birthday of the mighty and quite awesome DAWN-MARIE KING, whose life was cut short as a result of galloping Liver Cancer that awakened her out of this dream back on another holiday, NEW YEARS DAY!!!!!!!!!!!! The Copyright Office knows how electronic metaphysics dealt with a neighbor of mine some time back, named Mister Divine. He liked messing with my property and removing chains, things taught to him by other peeps in the family, Sarah, and Robert of 10-SC Avenue in good old ACNJUSAESMWG!!!!!!! This fine gentlemen woke up through a doorway called Stomach Cancer. Don't fucking mess with me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want one point made super ass clear today. If you are not hurting me, then I have nothing against you. If you are one of the guilty bastards, then grow back eyes, and hire body guards! This will do you no good of course. Real powerful enemies of mine make sure they get lots of extra lightning rods, and carefully check helicopter rotors.
In wrapping shit up this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning folks, I do not blog on and on about shit that must be done, or else. Doing that fucking song was necessary. If you study any ten blogs from the current one backward, you will see that no human being could be making up a wild story here, you are giving me way too much mother fucking credit Mizz UMWELL Mystery-girl, YO, WEAYU TO MUCH CREDIT. In a financial equivalent, this would be like my current financial delinquencies being ignored, and my lack of high earnings, and being mailed as MasterCard with a credit limit of “U”. For those who do not come from a family of New York City bankers, or do not hang with super wealthy peeps; this stands for (UNLIMITED). You are all giving me way too big a fucking compliment folks, way too fucking big, YO. The great James Patterson himself could not write fiction like the shit on my last 6 years of blogs, this is the truth. Like it or ignore it, but truth exists. As the old Esolphs Fables puts it so well, 'and that's that'!!!!! For those that have any interest in knowing why I posted the 2nd song on the U-Tube last Thursday, it is because Scylla would not do it, and did not believe the importance of having it on the record forever in this particular universe in the vast 5th dimensional hyperspace. Many might say that I do not learn from the past, like other humans, after all, is this not a repeat action of the 1980 LOIS-FOCA? My response is that I had no choice, I had to do it. The chemtrail WOMO bastards did not want me to dop it, swo anythiong theyu do not want me to do, I make sure that I do it, anmd vice versa. Thety totally wiped out my voice. I had to do something very wild to get it done, and I only wish I really sounded like that. Itt5 is my voice, but it also is the computer singing it. I do not ever feel the Trump ego need that many others would, I tell it straight up, and am on the fucking square with the world. I do not know what Scylla's game is all about, only that I am indeed, THAT-BOY, and must play along,. I am it and the tag goes on, oh well, it beats the Stairs. Laugh on Lee. How you ever got MI to overcome what must have been such an unfathomably traumatic event in her young life, is mind boggling to me, YO. Tell your pal Mizz Heavyweight, that my post-card in the mail mom, took her advice, and kept watching her dumb show!
They say that every dog has his day. 'OYR'. This dog is gonna get a few hours of sleep, and sign off of this computer, whaaaaaa!!! Sorry if I am not being such a real good boy today MI, stay out of those noisy airports, girl!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Saturday, April 23, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 130
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 130
TEOHIV/TMCAM
042311.085
START:
This is a safe journal. 'That Family' meticulously planned the obliteration of the other life journal that I'd been keeping faithfully on cassette tape ever since the start of the second month in the year of 1983. I do not hate this entire family, just those responsible for taking away all of my worldly goods and trying to covertly kill me back in the final days and years of the first decade of this horrendous 21st freaking century. These blogs however are not always going to be about nothing other than this incredible family, there are other topics that need to be addressed major ass big time folks, and also, just for me and my personal records, hopefully kept safer now on the internet from being again totally freaking wiped out and destroyed by those with powerful vested interests in doing so. A child can see all of this, only it is only the very young who have not yet been programmed by the adult-world, who do see, am I right old pal, Kenny, if you are ever out here? You told me some shit that I always dared to imagine and never share with the adults in my world, I always knew it, just as most likely now, so does the great ass hole disc jockey fire fighter of New Jersey. Did I mistake anyone's freaking identity here by the way, if necessary, I'll apologize, my life seems to be all about apologizing to one recording artist after another, some miraculous set of coincidences for me to believe peeps, YO.
Thank you Bob MCD for helping me get some of the electronic shit minimized, as anything you can do to keep looking over my shoulder, and having Agent Steve Caruso form Austin, also looking over my shoulder; is very much appreciated. I was tempted to go out on a rented boat until I ran out of gas, and sit in the triangle until 'THEY' made contact, or I just died out there and ended up again sending 'mucho' flowers to Callio and the A&R heart attack team. Shit really all fits together, and even at twenty past two, when I am up on my word document blogging, Nick knows, and sees every stroke on his 36th Avenue computer, as the gang again suddenly appeared outside myself blasting their ghetto trash at me, and is I ever dared to complain, I'd be making a knife-dream in Florida come true Aunt Ruth Shark Huntington Gloucester Gottwald. It all fits together, right down to the dog walking day up on that horrible ass island. Hell, I thought it was only a dream back in September of ohm-eight, but I did wander off before talking to the blond bombshell, and a young child beckoned to me to follow her inside, and that is when she led me to a very scary and bright closet, where I witnessed things so unbloggable that safe journal or not, it can't all be spoken. The world knows what is being talked about, and why only a carefully limited conversation is possible. Dave Roth, Arthur Crane, my mother, and myself, all witnessed, and were at various occasions, the victims of this gadget in this closet that MI was trying to show me, obviously for my own protection up here in the future. I do not believe you do not remember it, not for one second TQ. The gang outside is quite unhappy Nikki Cox Sarjenka, that I've blogged even this much, boom, bang,thump, and they call this shit music, unfathomable, YO. You know Prick Nick, you are merely verifying to me that you have every strike of this machine mirror imaged on your system out there on stinking 36th. I type the wrong thing, boom-boom-boom, like total precision Swiss ass clockwork, BRO. IF ANY FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA COPS OR SAINT LUCIE COUNTY SHERIFF'S ARE NOT TOO BUSY EATING A DONUGT RIGHT NOW, why not drive by my place here at the 26th and Avenue E ghetto, YO. I really hate your fucking guts Lenny McKinnon, I hated you in 1980, and I have only grown to hate you ten times more after 31 years of your torture, BRAHHH!!!!!! Howard comes waltzing into the mother fucking recording studio late in 1980 around my birthday or just after and said to me, “Bad news Mark, Lenny ran away”. BAD NEWS??? Sheeeeeeit Howard, it was the best news in the world until 65 months passed and he began plotting turn my entire life into a giant cesspool times the speed of light quanta cubed. It wasn't meant for me to last, not after the mists got here in 1969 and I lost a very special motor cycle chain given to me by John Henningsen, the big brother from the BBO system, that followed directly after Mister Frederick Hinger left the area after securing a position with the Met in Manhattan and leaving the freaking Philharmonic, but then Shirley girl, Hammonton is just the land of so many bicycle Melanie Safka Queens coincidences, right Mister Jack McCoy and Abigail Carmichael? I have done some wild and some bad shitty things that Carmichael would have locked me away forever if she had her way and was around when I was young, and L&O the television show was real instead of fictional entertainment, but one thing I never did, was hit a five year old child. That was the lowest rottenest thing that I ever witnessed from the ground in my life, forget the damn ass aerial chemtrails.
Yes, I was getting ready to go deep into trance and take my lovely baby blond to one of her favorite parks and waterfalls on the Astral Plane, when she just blurted out on the phone to me that I should check the PCN of the words “Prize Patrol”, this is the absolute ass truth, so help me Sarah-Stacey Krassle!!!!!!!!!!!! Nick didn't like that one either, boom-boom-boom, where are the police in this freaking ass town anyway, what a lousy ass ghetto I got stuck living in thanks to that rotten fucking social worker, MISS April Lee-Farms! Let me touch any of your shit you prick and you'd have your thug pals on me in minutes, but it's fucking OK for you to interfere with my computer and my blogging, you rotten evil son of a bitch, huh, YO? I'll tell the average folks that live paycheck to paycheck, if you feel like getting so angry that you may want to be as nasty as human-Gawky with his small child in 1975, rent a movie at the Redbox or the Blockbuster called, “Inside Job”. You will be pissed off squared, and you will say, wow, we thought 'Mountainpen' was a fucking nutcase. Hay, you still might, but rent the fucking ass movie, YO. You will be quite glad that you did.
Now instead of using way out words, I'll speak every day language, calling dreams dreams, and not using terms that do not exist yet. I'll tell this simply and easily so enjoy the story, you will be happy you tuned into this tonight, I know all of you want to know the truth, you just doubt that I happen to be the one who really freaking knows it, and that is all fine and well, healthy skepticism is fine, but listen up and think hard, and do not so readily dismiss what UI now tell you peeps. There is something happening and this is why you have a brain and are alive right now. Your brain tunes into stuff around you and thinks, reacts to stimulus, and does numerous other things. This something else is not just you here, but you all over many other places in realms beyond your wildest imaginations. Your brain is sort of like one individual computer. The entire system is the internet. Still, you are probably saying so what, how does that really explain the endlessly sought after human questions of the many Y's? Well, keeping it short, sweet, and simple, let me add a little more to the story. With the computer example, the computers existed first, and tying them all together came later on, in human world history. Everything in this waking world is reversed. So in truth here, this cosmic internet is always just there, and then it sends its countless and virtually unlimited websites and computers, out into the material worlds, from its cyberspace of mystical magical lands of binary coded realities. Using this reversed truth, while keeping the computer and the internet example present in the mix for purposes of illustration only, we now can also take things to the following level that's necessary for me making a powerful point with the human race tonight, and especially in lieu of my story over just the past (36-months), such a wild number now, in my nightmare ass life. Cyberspace is the 'dream-world', where all the computers can link up into as they so choose to do throughout the life of them and or 'their owners'. I just want you to see three things right now; computers and the net, then seeing the truth of that in reverse, and then finally, seeing cyberspace as the spirit world, and, in truth, many peeps do think and perceive of this nearly magical so-called territory, as almost a type of electronic-spirit-world. So the example fits and works, and I just want my readers to ponder a while on this and not just dismiss it. Cogitate on it for 5 or 10 freaking minutes, and then if you still wanna dismiss it, go the hell ahead.
Any good software engineer can take his or her knowledge, add this idea, read my blogs, take the story of my incredible and seemingly unbelievable life, and begin to see the only possible reality to all of it, and that is that SARAH-STACEY is a 16 year old GODDESS, and is playing a fantastic game, just as I have claimed all along, and Morianity has attempted to teach. On top of this, if no truth is present in all of this, then why get so bent out of shape with me, the Um Comment-Clubber's, the Boom-Boom-Thump-Thugs, the chemtrail invention at Honda in 1987, and the list is longer than Lex Luther's arm, Otis. If I do not scare the most powerful controllers and forces on this entire planet, they would ignore me and leave me alone, and then I'd go away. Things would be all 'peachy cream boss', with old Herman Munster sitting there with his fudge Sundae's, and his racing forms, speaking of thugs. The billionaires and the top religious powers on this planet know that something is up huge time with all of this, and they are scared from here to the home of the Boston Strangler. Why would I make up such a tale and blog it out for six years? It would be the epitome of insanity, and anyone doing it would not be rational enough to live in society, function, work, pay bills, and be able to subsist on his own. Anyone with a mind knows this, not just Lonnie Jackson. But the real genius minds of the PC also know that what can be done with the technology today is frightening beyond any way of describing it. Anyone using bombs and yesterday's terror any longer belongs in the stone age. Ross the Super Boss knows that tomorrow's terror, comes from these wonderful machines and the peeps behind them that really know stuff, as in truth, the peeps behind those peeps, and who are using this incredible new mind realm, have a plan indeed, and this plan is so diabolical that I won't even try and address it, not now or later on. I should be able to leave some shit up to my readers' own imaginations.
Now what I knew in 1980 about all of this, is a STM equation. Still, picture a chess game, only there are a thousand squares or a million, and hundreds of pieces. Not 50 fucking Albert Einstein geniuses could ever figure out 2, or 5, or 12 moves ahead on something like this. Yet we all play our hyperspace games, all of us. “Oh if only I hadn't done this, and if only I had spoken up and told someone that”, etcetera. It is a non-ending practice, and all humans are guilty of using it quite a lot more than even the most life-satisfied peeps amongst the crowds would even be willing to ever admit to themselves, let alone to anyone else. Think about another powerful thing. Can any of you look me square in the fucking eye and tell me what you really want? You can only tell me what you think you really want. Shit changes when we get what we thought we really wanted. This is not me talking, this can be mathematically backed up in formulas of complex quantum physics theories. Peeps in labs are so shocked to learn that doing something to an atom in the room effects an atom clear across the galaxy. Why wouldn't it you dummy? You are existing in void infinity and have dreamed out and away from that, in a super ultra complex maze of beyond literary descriptions, into who and what you may THINK that you are right now in this tangible here and now existence. Long story made super short, all of everything is inside the core of your being, the entire 64 trillion light year hypersphere around us all is only what we are projecting out as a collective LAWTRON that has managed a successful escape out of a prior closed curve larger infinity that is now in the realm of non-existence since we remain dreamed away in a near endless inter-looping system of smaller and larger closed curved infinities, this was all called the 80's Weird Theory 30 years ago, and was removed from society. Should instead, peeps have been allowed to learn of these fantastic truths, there would now be a totally different operating world and global society around us all today. It might be worse, it might be better; but it would not be at all the way it is in a place where it was rejected and removed. Again, this is Quantum Law, and again, this truth can be totally absolutely backed up with complex mathematical equations and freaking formulas peeps.
This blog cannot in good conscience be wrapped up without a quick rehash about 1975 and 1976, and Jim Burr, and a place back then called, “TEEN CHALLENGE”. Just after the family made contact a month ago with me, while I was viewing the television episode of “L&O” with the dog fighting and dog walking and Lenny telling law counselor ladies that they are howling at the moon, and I learned that the girl who wrecked my entire fucking life had died of Liver Cancer back on New Years Day, and I no longer was trapped away from the only real home that I knew all of my life, and could now return whenever I want to, suddenly, all kinds of doors popped open down here in sunny hot ass Florida, college grant opportunities, housing, and believe me, a lot more stuff. I told on blogs half a decade ago about how Jim wanted me to go to this place called Teen Challenge. It was not only for teenagers but twenty somethings as well, and since I was down on my luck, he thought I should go. I thought that he was a fucking nut case, as this place was for those who needed help from substance abuse problems, a great place for most of the members of the great, “THAT-FAMILY”,but 'not me', Fatherland Hitler Anders. Just when I had decided to go to this silly place if for no other reason then to get Jim Burr off of my mother fucking back, suddenly all sorts of opportunities popped up right out of nowhere. Then when I said to Jim that I changed my mind, all the opportunities vanished like a magical Mentalist card parlor trick, literally overnight in a powerful ass flash, just like fucking ass magic. I know how real my curse is, the devil is, and magic is, whether it is backed by super high technology is meaningless, since 5,000 Einsteins' would be unable presently to be able to decode any of this super high teck, and hence, it is fucking total ass magic peeps, YO!!!!!!! But then we realize that magical time of 1975, me getting the fucking shit kicked out of me in Atlantic city by the King/Callio/Levy/McGuire branches of this wild Kennedy and Da Gama family, including the greatest recording artist of all time Mariah Carey, a distant cousin of her mom to Robert McGuire's dad. In any event, I used teck program sample-MR101, and could have just as easily used CY102. I try to keep things above board, and all I get is daily persecution, pummeling, and death siege. Still, maybe the Prize Patrol did come to the house in 1997, and Paula King Uwich prevented me from realizing it, you know, another Star Trek Tallosion parlor trick of the great MISTER Patrick Jane, DUH! Funny though, I had literally been hypnotized to forget my sole trip at age 13 and a half, up to Long Island to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, and certainly forgot the plane crash in the bay. But then we can't all be heroes. You go there buddy, forget your name, sorry, don't ever get old BRO, the alternative is a billion times better. But the dog walking day and following this incredible five year old, here is where we get beyond the 'CANNOT BLOG' stuff, YO. END:
TEOHIV/TMCAM
042311.085
START:
This is a safe journal. 'That Family' meticulously planned the obliteration of the other life journal that I'd been keeping faithfully on cassette tape ever since the start of the second month in the year of 1983. I do not hate this entire family, just those responsible for taking away all of my worldly goods and trying to covertly kill me back in the final days and years of the first decade of this horrendous 21st freaking century. These blogs however are not always going to be about nothing other than this incredible family, there are other topics that need to be addressed major ass big time folks, and also, just for me and my personal records, hopefully kept safer now on the internet from being again totally freaking wiped out and destroyed by those with powerful vested interests in doing so. A child can see all of this, only it is only the very young who have not yet been programmed by the adult-world, who do see, am I right old pal, Kenny, if you are ever out here? You told me some shit that I always dared to imagine and never share with the adults in my world, I always knew it, just as most likely now, so does the great ass hole disc jockey fire fighter of New Jersey. Did I mistake anyone's freaking identity here by the way, if necessary, I'll apologize, my life seems to be all about apologizing to one recording artist after another, some miraculous set of coincidences for me to believe peeps, YO.
Thank you Bob MCD for helping me get some of the electronic shit minimized, as anything you can do to keep looking over my shoulder, and having Agent Steve Caruso form Austin, also looking over my shoulder; is very much appreciated. I was tempted to go out on a rented boat until I ran out of gas, and sit in the triangle until 'THEY' made contact, or I just died out there and ended up again sending 'mucho' flowers to Callio and the A&R heart attack team. Shit really all fits together, and even at twenty past two, when I am up on my word document blogging, Nick knows, and sees every stroke on his 36th Avenue computer, as the gang again suddenly appeared outside myself blasting their ghetto trash at me, and is I ever dared to complain, I'd be making a knife-dream in Florida come true Aunt Ruth Shark Huntington Gloucester Gottwald. It all fits together, right down to the dog walking day up on that horrible ass island. Hell, I thought it was only a dream back in September of ohm-eight, but I did wander off before talking to the blond bombshell, and a young child beckoned to me to follow her inside, and that is when she led me to a very scary and bright closet, where I witnessed things so unbloggable that safe journal or not, it can't all be spoken. The world knows what is being talked about, and why only a carefully limited conversation is possible. Dave Roth, Arthur Crane, my mother, and myself, all witnessed, and were at various occasions, the victims of this gadget in this closet that MI was trying to show me, obviously for my own protection up here in the future. I do not believe you do not remember it, not for one second TQ. The gang outside is quite unhappy Nikki Cox Sarjenka, that I've blogged even this much, boom, bang,thump, and they call this shit music, unfathomable, YO. You know Prick Nick, you are merely verifying to me that you have every strike of this machine mirror imaged on your system out there on stinking 36th. I type the wrong thing, boom-boom-boom, like total precision Swiss ass clockwork, BRO. IF ANY FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA COPS OR SAINT LUCIE COUNTY SHERIFF'S ARE NOT TOO BUSY EATING A DONUGT RIGHT NOW, why not drive by my place here at the 26th and Avenue E ghetto, YO. I really hate your fucking guts Lenny McKinnon, I hated you in 1980, and I have only grown to hate you ten times more after 31 years of your torture, BRAHHH!!!!!! Howard comes waltzing into the mother fucking recording studio late in 1980 around my birthday or just after and said to me, “Bad news Mark, Lenny ran away”. BAD NEWS??? Sheeeeeeit Howard, it was the best news in the world until 65 months passed and he began plotting turn my entire life into a giant cesspool times the speed of light quanta cubed. It wasn't meant for me to last, not after the mists got here in 1969 and I lost a very special motor cycle chain given to me by John Henningsen, the big brother from the BBO system, that followed directly after Mister Frederick Hinger left the area after securing a position with the Met in Manhattan and leaving the freaking Philharmonic, but then Shirley girl, Hammonton is just the land of so many bicycle Melanie Safka Queens coincidences, right Mister Jack McCoy and Abigail Carmichael? I have done some wild and some bad shitty things that Carmichael would have locked me away forever if she had her way and was around when I was young, and L&O the television show was real instead of fictional entertainment, but one thing I never did, was hit a five year old child. That was the lowest rottenest thing that I ever witnessed from the ground in my life, forget the damn ass aerial chemtrails.
Yes, I was getting ready to go deep into trance and take my lovely baby blond to one of her favorite parks and waterfalls on the Astral Plane, when she just blurted out on the phone to me that I should check the PCN of the words “Prize Patrol”, this is the absolute ass truth, so help me Sarah-Stacey Krassle!!!!!!!!!!!! Nick didn't like that one either, boom-boom-boom, where are the police in this freaking ass town anyway, what a lousy ass ghetto I got stuck living in thanks to that rotten fucking social worker, MISS April Lee-Farms! Let me touch any of your shit you prick and you'd have your thug pals on me in minutes, but it's fucking OK for you to interfere with my computer and my blogging, you rotten evil son of a bitch, huh, YO? I'll tell the average folks that live paycheck to paycheck, if you feel like getting so angry that you may want to be as nasty as human-Gawky with his small child in 1975, rent a movie at the Redbox or the Blockbuster called, “Inside Job”. You will be pissed off squared, and you will say, wow, we thought 'Mountainpen' was a fucking nutcase. Hay, you still might, but rent the fucking ass movie, YO. You will be quite glad that you did.
Now instead of using way out words, I'll speak every day language, calling dreams dreams, and not using terms that do not exist yet. I'll tell this simply and easily so enjoy the story, you will be happy you tuned into this tonight, I know all of you want to know the truth, you just doubt that I happen to be the one who really freaking knows it, and that is all fine and well, healthy skepticism is fine, but listen up and think hard, and do not so readily dismiss what UI now tell you peeps. There is something happening and this is why you have a brain and are alive right now. Your brain tunes into stuff around you and thinks, reacts to stimulus, and does numerous other things. This something else is not just you here, but you all over many other places in realms beyond your wildest imaginations. Your brain is sort of like one individual computer. The entire system is the internet. Still, you are probably saying so what, how does that really explain the endlessly sought after human questions of the many Y's? Well, keeping it short, sweet, and simple, let me add a little more to the story. With the computer example, the computers existed first, and tying them all together came later on, in human world history. Everything in this waking world is reversed. So in truth here, this cosmic internet is always just there, and then it sends its countless and virtually unlimited websites and computers, out into the material worlds, from its cyberspace of mystical magical lands of binary coded realities. Using this reversed truth, while keeping the computer and the internet example present in the mix for purposes of illustration only, we now can also take things to the following level that's necessary for me making a powerful point with the human race tonight, and especially in lieu of my story over just the past (36-months), such a wild number now, in my nightmare ass life. Cyberspace is the 'dream-world', where all the computers can link up into as they so choose to do throughout the life of them and or 'their owners'. I just want you to see three things right now; computers and the net, then seeing the truth of that in reverse, and then finally, seeing cyberspace as the spirit world, and, in truth, many peeps do think and perceive of this nearly magical so-called territory, as almost a type of electronic-spirit-world. So the example fits and works, and I just want my readers to ponder a while on this and not just dismiss it. Cogitate on it for 5 or 10 freaking minutes, and then if you still wanna dismiss it, go the hell ahead.
Any good software engineer can take his or her knowledge, add this idea, read my blogs, take the story of my incredible and seemingly unbelievable life, and begin to see the only possible reality to all of it, and that is that SARAH-STACEY is a 16 year old GODDESS, and is playing a fantastic game, just as I have claimed all along, and Morianity has attempted to teach. On top of this, if no truth is present in all of this, then why get so bent out of shape with me, the Um Comment-Clubber's, the Boom-Boom-Thump-Thugs, the chemtrail invention at Honda in 1987, and the list is longer than Lex Luther's arm, Otis. If I do not scare the most powerful controllers and forces on this entire planet, they would ignore me and leave me alone, and then I'd go away. Things would be all 'peachy cream boss', with old Herman Munster sitting there with his fudge Sundae's, and his racing forms, speaking of thugs. The billionaires and the top religious powers on this planet know that something is up huge time with all of this, and they are scared from here to the home of the Boston Strangler. Why would I make up such a tale and blog it out for six years? It would be the epitome of insanity, and anyone doing it would not be rational enough to live in society, function, work, pay bills, and be able to subsist on his own. Anyone with a mind knows this, not just Lonnie Jackson. But the real genius minds of the PC also know that what can be done with the technology today is frightening beyond any way of describing it. Anyone using bombs and yesterday's terror any longer belongs in the stone age. Ross the Super Boss knows that tomorrow's terror, comes from these wonderful machines and the peeps behind them that really know stuff, as in truth, the peeps behind those peeps, and who are using this incredible new mind realm, have a plan indeed, and this plan is so diabolical that I won't even try and address it, not now or later on. I should be able to leave some shit up to my readers' own imaginations.
Now what I knew in 1980 about all of this, is a STM equation. Still, picture a chess game, only there are a thousand squares or a million, and hundreds of pieces. Not 50 fucking Albert Einstein geniuses could ever figure out 2, or 5, or 12 moves ahead on something like this. Yet we all play our hyperspace games, all of us. “Oh if only I hadn't done this, and if only I had spoken up and told someone that”, etcetera. It is a non-ending practice, and all humans are guilty of using it quite a lot more than even the most life-satisfied peeps amongst the crowds would even be willing to ever admit to themselves, let alone to anyone else. Think about another powerful thing. Can any of you look me square in the fucking eye and tell me what you really want? You can only tell me what you think you really want. Shit changes when we get what we thought we really wanted. This is not me talking, this can be mathematically backed up in formulas of complex quantum physics theories. Peeps in labs are so shocked to learn that doing something to an atom in the room effects an atom clear across the galaxy. Why wouldn't it you dummy? You are existing in void infinity and have dreamed out and away from that, in a super ultra complex maze of beyond literary descriptions, into who and what you may THINK that you are right now in this tangible here and now existence. Long story made super short, all of everything is inside the core of your being, the entire 64 trillion light year hypersphere around us all is only what we are projecting out as a collective LAWTRON that has managed a successful escape out of a prior closed curve larger infinity that is now in the realm of non-existence since we remain dreamed away in a near endless inter-looping system of smaller and larger closed curved infinities, this was all called the 80's Weird Theory 30 years ago, and was removed from society. Should instead, peeps have been allowed to learn of these fantastic truths, there would now be a totally different operating world and global society around us all today. It might be worse, it might be better; but it would not be at all the way it is in a place where it was rejected and removed. Again, this is Quantum Law, and again, this truth can be totally absolutely backed up with complex mathematical equations and freaking formulas peeps.
This blog cannot in good conscience be wrapped up without a quick rehash about 1975 and 1976, and Jim Burr, and a place back then called, “TEEN CHALLENGE”. Just after the family made contact a month ago with me, while I was viewing the television episode of “L&O” with the dog fighting and dog walking and Lenny telling law counselor ladies that they are howling at the moon, and I learned that the girl who wrecked my entire fucking life had died of Liver Cancer back on New Years Day, and I no longer was trapped away from the only real home that I knew all of my life, and could now return whenever I want to, suddenly, all kinds of doors popped open down here in sunny hot ass Florida, college grant opportunities, housing, and believe me, a lot more stuff. I told on blogs half a decade ago about how Jim wanted me to go to this place called Teen Challenge. It was not only for teenagers but twenty somethings as well, and since I was down on my luck, he thought I should go. I thought that he was a fucking nut case, as this place was for those who needed help from substance abuse problems, a great place for most of the members of the great, “THAT-FAMILY”,but 'not me', Fatherland Hitler Anders. Just when I had decided to go to this silly place if for no other reason then to get Jim Burr off of my mother fucking back, suddenly all sorts of opportunities popped up right out of nowhere. Then when I said to Jim that I changed my mind, all the opportunities vanished like a magical Mentalist card parlor trick, literally overnight in a powerful ass flash, just like fucking ass magic. I know how real my curse is, the devil is, and magic is, whether it is backed by super high technology is meaningless, since 5,000 Einsteins' would be unable presently to be able to decode any of this super high teck, and hence, it is fucking total ass magic peeps, YO!!!!!!! But then we realize that magical time of 1975, me getting the fucking shit kicked out of me in Atlantic city by the King/Callio/Levy/McGuire branches of this wild Kennedy and Da Gama family, including the greatest recording artist of all time Mariah Carey, a distant cousin of her mom to Robert McGuire's dad. In any event, I used teck program sample-MR101, and could have just as easily used CY102. I try to keep things above board, and all I get is daily persecution, pummeling, and death siege. Still, maybe the Prize Patrol did come to the house in 1997, and Paula King Uwich prevented me from realizing it, you know, another Star Trek Tallosion parlor trick of the great MISTER Patrick Jane, DUH! Funny though, I had literally been hypnotized to forget my sole trip at age 13 and a half, up to Long Island to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, and certainly forgot the plane crash in the bay. But then we can't all be heroes. You go there buddy, forget your name, sorry, don't ever get old BRO, the alternative is a billion times better. But the dog walking day and following this incredible five year old, here is where we get beyond the 'CANNOT BLOG' stuff, YO. END:
Thursday, April 21, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 129
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 129
KING NEBNOOSHOO BLOGS
TEOHIV/TMCAM
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
DATFILE: CH-129-042211.060
COPYRIGHT MWM/MWM 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well peeps, here is what the shit is going on and it is an old freaking story, SOSO-WEIN, boring ancient bullshit, and a few other similar adjectives of synonymous crap would also apply if time permitted, on y it doesn't, YO.
Planes when I left the studio were around, and I think fucked with the electrical system of the area, I have a very special ear and memory, from my RPL days while operating duplication machines during electrical storms in the summer time in 1980, so I know (what) I know, and do not dare say 'THAT I KNOW' or 'THAT I AM', all though I did have the balls today to take something that belongs to Scylla, as she refused to hear me almost three years ago, and would not do HER own song here in this universe, so I did it with a little bit of lyrical rewriting for a male singer. Watch those journal tape seventeen eighty sixes Copyright Office, sheeeeeeeeeeit. How I remember the mighty Dawn-Marie King sliding the “S” word all the time back at the FBI-Sinatra address of Blueberry-ville, New Jersey.
Gina, I TOLD YOU, that as long as these mother fucking jerk offs have me to pick the fuck on and freaking endlessly viciously persecute so unrelentingly, THE DOW JONES WILL KEEP FOREVER MAKING NEW RECORD ASS HIGHS, AND KEEP GOING FUCKING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, AND ALSO THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS 'ICE LINGLONG FONDA JURY TEAM' WILL JUST GO RIGHT ON FOREVER CHEATING WITH WINS AND WINS AND WINS AND MORE WINS, FOREVER AND FREAKING ASS EVER AND EVER AND EVER; AND I AM RIGHT AND YOU AND THE ENTIRE PLANET SHOULD HAVE THIS KNOWLEDGE BY NOW, AS IT IS ON NERARLY SIX FUCKING YEARS OF MY BLOGS!!
Last night I fell into a very strange sleep and major wild dreaming-interaction. The great Sarah-Stacey Krassle showed me some wild incredible shit that took place first in 1966 in Princeton, New Jersey at the NJNPI, now defunct, and then we went up a ways but still quite a long time back from t his blogs' posting in late April of the year of 2011, MISTER CAMPING DOOMASSDAY PROPHET. Scylla laughed and told me that he loves HER with all of his heart and forgives him for doing this, Mister Camping, you cannot put HER in a box, no one can, not even THAT-BOY!!!!!!!!!!!! As for the wild 'dream', it is too powerful and between SSJK and me to be shared with this sick sinful world.
The chemtrails wipe out many things, voices being one of them. I hate having to sample my own self and let the computer sing. Chemtrails wipe many far greater peeps out, I still remember Whitney's version of the SSB, wow was that the quintessential ear punisher. Many say crack does this to peeps and she and crack are old and very good friends, still, SKYWITNESS and me both know what is really happening to peeps with all this fucking sky shit. We need no bricks falling on us. Whatever sinks your subs, floats your boats and pops your corn folks. For me, give me the truth and the reality of each situation, and do not sugar coat or rose color it up just to make it freaking pretty. You can laugh and say I'm a nut, but I know better, and so does the Roman Empire and Sigmund Freud. Oh well,, thanks to computers, the song got done, but still, I only wish I could sing like that, and so do lots of other chemtrail victims that did not leave large cities in the nick of time, and caught onto my message a little bit too freaking late. Oh well, SOSO. What really changes ever in this pitiful little ass hypersphere of the squared Astral Kalpa? There is something called the atom to hypersphere curve ratio, and in 2300, peeps look back at 2000 and laugh about so many things, unfortunately, I am one of them, me and my entire freaking family, right DJDS??????? So what is behind your story old fireman, I mean are you and her one and the same like Kent and Soup, and if not, then what are you trying to prove, D-bag? Quit infringing my copyrights Kev, YO!!!!
I will now TERMINATE MY TRANSMISSION, GOVERNOR MUSCLES!!!!
KING NEBNOOSHOO BLOGS
TEOHIV/TMCAM
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
DATFILE: CH-129-042211.060
COPYRIGHT MWM/MWM 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well peeps, here is what the shit is going on and it is an old freaking story, SOSO-WEIN, boring ancient bullshit, and a few other similar adjectives of synonymous crap would also apply if time permitted, on y it doesn't, YO.
Planes when I left the studio were around, and I think fucked with the electrical system of the area, I have a very special ear and memory, from my RPL days while operating duplication machines during electrical storms in the summer time in 1980, so I know (what) I know, and do not dare say 'THAT I KNOW' or 'THAT I AM', all though I did have the balls today to take something that belongs to Scylla, as she refused to hear me almost three years ago, and would not do HER own song here in this universe, so I did it with a little bit of lyrical rewriting for a male singer. Watch those journal tape seventeen eighty sixes Copyright Office, sheeeeeeeeeeit. How I remember the mighty Dawn-Marie King sliding the “S” word all the time back at the FBI-Sinatra address of Blueberry-ville, New Jersey.
Gina, I TOLD YOU, that as long as these mother fucking jerk offs have me to pick the fuck on and freaking endlessly viciously persecute so unrelentingly, THE DOW JONES WILL KEEP FOREVER MAKING NEW RECORD ASS HIGHS, AND KEEP GOING FUCKING UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, AND ALSO THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS 'ICE LINGLONG FONDA JURY TEAM' WILL JUST GO RIGHT ON FOREVER CHEATING WITH WINS AND WINS AND WINS AND MORE WINS, FOREVER AND FREAKING ASS EVER AND EVER AND EVER; AND I AM RIGHT AND YOU AND THE ENTIRE PLANET SHOULD HAVE THIS KNOWLEDGE BY NOW, AS IT IS ON NERARLY SIX FUCKING YEARS OF MY BLOGS!!
Last night I fell into a very strange sleep and major wild dreaming-interaction. The great Sarah-Stacey Krassle showed me some wild incredible shit that took place first in 1966 in Princeton, New Jersey at the NJNPI, now defunct, and then we went up a ways but still quite a long time back from t his blogs' posting in late April of the year of 2011, MISTER CAMPING DOOMASSDAY PROPHET. Scylla laughed and told me that he loves HER with all of his heart and forgives him for doing this, Mister Camping, you cannot put HER in a box, no one can, not even THAT-BOY!!!!!!!!!!!! As for the wild 'dream', it is too powerful and between SSJK and me to be shared with this sick sinful world.
The chemtrails wipe out many things, voices being one of them. I hate having to sample my own self and let the computer sing. Chemtrails wipe many far greater peeps out, I still remember Whitney's version of the SSB, wow was that the quintessential ear punisher. Many say crack does this to peeps and she and crack are old and very good friends, still, SKYWITNESS and me both know what is really happening to peeps with all this fucking sky shit. We need no bricks falling on us. Whatever sinks your subs, floats your boats and pops your corn folks. For me, give me the truth and the reality of each situation, and do not sugar coat or rose color it up just to make it freaking pretty. You can laugh and say I'm a nut, but I know better, and so does the Roman Empire and Sigmund Freud. Oh well,, thanks to computers, the song got done, but still, I only wish I could sing like that, and so do lots of other chemtrail victims that did not leave large cities in the nick of time, and caught onto my message a little bit too freaking late. Oh well, SOSO. What really changes ever in this pitiful little ass hypersphere of the squared Astral Kalpa? There is something called the atom to hypersphere curve ratio, and in 2300, peeps look back at 2000 and laugh about so many things, unfortunately, I am one of them, me and my entire freaking family, right DJDS??????? So what is behind your story old fireman, I mean are you and her one and the same like Kent and Soup, and if not, then what are you trying to prove, D-bag? Quit infringing my copyrights Kev, YO!!!!
I will now TERMINATE MY TRANSMISSION, GOVERNOR MUSCLES!!!!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 128
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 128
KING NEBNOOSHOO
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-128-042011.860
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
3RD SUBTITLE TO THIS BLOG:
“GAWKY'S PRIZE PATROL INTERACTION NEARS”
BEGINNING TWANSMISSION, SILWEE WABBIT, WHAAAAA:
Lots of chemtrail siege was all over the place in the Fort Pierce, Florida area all moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning freaking long, giving way to a sky of dissipated poisonous vapor that has had me feeling all fucked up physically for several weeks now, queasy and weak, with flu-like symptoms, but then pals of mine like the great U-Tube “SKYWITNESS”, and many other internet posters, know all about this monstrous horrendous fucking bullshit. When this nightmare began at the tail end of 1987, more than a year after my copyrighting the song “PLANES”, where my lyrics were discussing moonlight being blocked by WOMO, only in 'STM', my full grasp and understanding was along the lines of subliminal and subconscious, to any real meaningful elucidations and details operating in the real bigger picture of reality, that was and is, involved throughout this nightmare ass situation.
Electronic supernatural shit has also been ex termly fucking bad for me for several days now, unexplainable shit with all sorts of electronic machinery. Today however, I was able to prove to people how real it is. Still, rather than face it, human beings refuse to accept what their five senses totally and honestly reveal to them, and would rather fantasize about shit than face the cold hard punching truths that we humans are nothing more than extensions, and that true entities far beyond our silly little dreaming interactions here in this so-called waking world material existence, is what is really behind every mother fucking thing that is going on around us 24-7-365.2422.
Hay pe3epsw, if you think that I like or enjoy any small bit of this fucking diseased sickness around me, YOU'RE FUCKING NUTS, but I am not gonna be a fucking denier because it suits both me and a giant police officer in Williamstown, New Jersey, almost as huge as the Voorhees Police Woman Dispatcher in the nineteen-nineties. Paula King, the lady at the race track on Street Road in Eastern Pennsylvania, and her, are all around seven feet tall or more. Many giant women are also all around me all the time, I have grown totally accustomed to this, and faces as well, so tell the entire 'spell-checker-unrecognized' Clooney family about that perfect storm song, YO!!! The misery that the WOMO put me through on thousands of combined miles on Street Road is way beyond the Prize Patrol of the Pub McGuire Clearing House-In, huh Misses 1969 Marola, give me another toot sometime and don't talk in Latin or say “HI MARK” and just hang up. That is all so stupid and immature, but then this great marvelous wonderful awesome family, what can I expect folks? Jack-35, in many parallel universes, there was a president before him and he was the 36th, but here, let us not fabricate anything just to make it click together better, YO.
Every time I blog, tiny flying 'creatures; come literally out of the nowhere and into the Captain Shatner here, and annoy the fucking hell out of me, and when I am not blogging, they vanish into the leave-him-alone-zone. It is as totally fucking dependable and predictable as the greatest Swiss ass time piece ever built, and I will most gladly put it to the test with anyone at any time, and in any mother fucking place, Disc-Jockey, or not, DONNA SUMMER, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, what are the fucking odds David Charles ass Roth?????????
People today witnessed that some invisible force indeed fucks with me on machines such as glorified adding machines better and or also AKA known sir PRINCE, as PC's, whether they can sing the high notes or not Odd-Couple Twilight Zone Oscar not Felix. Well in any event Lads and Lassies and yes my wonderful Labradors, I will post up my own version of Scylla's great song. It should be called, “Love is for Carpenters 2” in pursuit of 1980's original power house 2nd interaction with this great All Mighty Goddess, but it instead will be called, as it is called in millions of parallel universes, “WANNA SPEND MY TIME”, and this will be up tomorrow afternoon. NICK KNOWS that I'm typing this, as instantly, a powerful bunch of his thug pals hurled out mega watts of thundering crap all around me ol' house me maitees, YARR!!!!!!! For a dude who doesn't like anyone and I mean anyone touching or playing with any of his personal stuff, wow; turn the tables a little, and look at old bent out of shape you, like DUH, Hyundai cars and high school musical movies, BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 'Color me so impressed' Mister Detective Lenny Briscoe Beethoven.
In the year of 1997, I resided in a home in Somerdale, new jersey, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in this exact universe and its matching atomic vibrations in hyperspace, minding my own damn business, and fell into a very unsettled and troubled sleep, when POW, suddenly the PRIZE PATROL was outside my house, only they forgot to bring any heating oil or Unical Bush pals, or a gorgeous coed named K.J. McAllister along with them, but they did manage to bring the Charmed Sandman along for the ride, and he threw sand in my eyes, and then all hell broke loose with this lovely song being sung to me, naturally, and like an ass hole, I could not put '2 and 2' together with the copyrighted project I did 10 years later in OH-MAROLA-7. All of this story has been blogged and it all officially fucking exists for the entire mother fucking world to see at the bloggers original website that is GOOGLE owned and operated, so just merely type in: www.blogger.com/. None of this tale is fictional or delusional, and it CANNOT BE RATIONALLY EXPLAINED AWAY, not by (231) million fucking psychiatrists from the (PP) of the (PC), oh and did that light up any screens in the NSA or any other BFA, but let us touch on these genius mind-realm experts here for a few minutes, if I may be “UNCLE” Heinz Gottwald-175-permitted to do so, YO? 'Head Shrinks' date back to the so-called father of modern day shrinkology, Doctor Freud. I said the keyword here folks, MODERN DAY. Did you know however, that just as outdoor and indoor aqueduct plumbing, medical operations, high and complex mathematical computations such as advanced algebraic and trig mechanics, and much more; is thousands of freaking years old, so also is the examining of the mind-realm by the shrinkology docs, YO. This is a true historical fact. In the days of the freaking Roman Empire, modern day 'experts' of these times invented the word psyche and soul where our modern words all come from today, and did you further know that it was considered insane and mental illness, to have the desire to be a FREE person, if you happened to be a SLAVE? So really peeps, you tell me who is using these disinformation techniques such as psychiatry and mental illness study, to keep us all in line, OR ELSE. Make us think we are crazy when we are totally not. We are not imagining m,other fucking squat. This is not to say there is no real mental illness, as just like physical illness, of course these things exist and are totally real. But anyone can label a person as mentally ill now when they merely insist that some plot exists to wipe out their life, and it is 100% total mother fucking true and accurate, so is this not a license for the rich and powerful and unscrupulous Wall Street cheaters and 'bail-outers' at our fucking expense, to do whatever the hell they want to any one of us and at any time, and get totally fucking Scott free away with it, you fucking tell me peeps, YO???????
This was another very fucking bad day folks, I may do anything tomorrow, it will be their next move. This song is Scylla's property, only not here. Here, it is the energetic reaction of my falling asleep in 1997 one night, and being visited by the Prize Patrol, McAllister, Richard Karpf, and last but certainly not at all least, two powerful letters in the mailbox, right Gawky? Parents! All I know is that 1969, 1980, 1994, and 2011 have a mathematical sequence that any first year grad student majoring in any math discipline can see in short order. These are years where two things always happened, only not yet in this one, I am patiently awaiting and who know what tomorrow might bring? Keep fucking pissing me off world, and JOURNBAL-TAPE #-1786. keep cutting my fingers freezer boy, and keep these American Appliances and American Express things going strong. Maggie the healer can also hurt, and the eyes of slant know just how much, but why does it strike over there so much? Well, whoever is truly behind all of my miseries and shit, has not as of yet actually begun doing it. I learned this when I look back at my questionable hollering on an open reel master tape in August of 1986. Now by the quoting of the recently made television commercial, who really owns this nation, as they have basically bought all of its debt? The answer is China, Japan, and many areas where lots of recent-current-millennium shaking and quaking is going on. Maggie is not time sensitive, any more than lots of computer things are not case-letter sensitive, passwords of course excluded.
Yes foes and friends, Morians and Lessians and Inbetweenians, it all makes perfect logical sense, but not if you are not looking for truth. I was not for a long time, and I too was fucking totally blind. I am the one who wrote the song, 'REAL GOOD GIRL', so screw the wrestling world. What I mean is that if I can let the hugest event in human history happen and slip by me totally jun noticed, you must see that I have merit when I say that most people are passing by life without even looking. I thought I was pretty damn intuitive, and look what I missed, come on,. Is this powerful on a James fucking Patterson level or not, give an honest opinion, don't freaking count me out like a moron, when you all know deep down that something is major ass going on in my life and I at least have the fucking balls to get online and blog it out to the fucking public world, forever ruining any chance of a future or a career, you think I am retarded or something and don;t fucking know all this shit, YO?
I have, as you all do five senses. No one has a sixth sense. You either hone in and super tune your five gods-given senses, or you choose to ignore shit, or fall into virtually unlimited categories that lay somewhere in-between these two realities. This world is in some big ass trouble in the coming days and that Kimba Whitelion, 'you can be 1969 sure', BRO. ------------------------------
THIS TRANSMISSION IS NOW TERMINATING, & who knows what else may be?
KING NEBNOOSHOO
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-128-042011.860
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
3RD SUBTITLE TO THIS BLOG:
“GAWKY'S PRIZE PATROL INTERACTION NEARS”
BEGINNING TWANSMISSION, SILWEE WABBIT, WHAAAAA:
Lots of chemtrail siege was all over the place in the Fort Pierce, Florida area all moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning freaking long, giving way to a sky of dissipated poisonous vapor that has had me feeling all fucked up physically for several weeks now, queasy and weak, with flu-like symptoms, but then pals of mine like the great U-Tube “SKYWITNESS”, and many other internet posters, know all about this monstrous horrendous fucking bullshit. When this nightmare began at the tail end of 1987, more than a year after my copyrighting the song “PLANES”, where my lyrics were discussing moonlight being blocked by WOMO, only in 'STM', my full grasp and understanding was along the lines of subliminal and subconscious, to any real meaningful elucidations and details operating in the real bigger picture of reality, that was and is, involved throughout this nightmare ass situation.
Electronic supernatural shit has also been ex termly fucking bad for me for several days now, unexplainable shit with all sorts of electronic machinery. Today however, I was able to prove to people how real it is. Still, rather than face it, human beings refuse to accept what their five senses totally and honestly reveal to them, and would rather fantasize about shit than face the cold hard punching truths that we humans are nothing more than extensions, and that true entities far beyond our silly little dreaming interactions here in this so-called waking world material existence, is what is really behind every mother fucking thing that is going on around us 24-7-365.2422.
Hay pe3epsw, if you think that I like or enjoy any small bit of this fucking diseased sickness around me, YOU'RE FUCKING NUTS, but I am not gonna be a fucking denier because it suits both me and a giant police officer in Williamstown, New Jersey, almost as huge as the Voorhees Police Woman Dispatcher in the nineteen-nineties. Paula King, the lady at the race track on Street Road in Eastern Pennsylvania, and her, are all around seven feet tall or more. Many giant women are also all around me all the time, I have grown totally accustomed to this, and faces as well, so tell the entire 'spell-checker-unrecognized' Clooney family about that perfect storm song, YO!!! The misery that the WOMO put me through on thousands of combined miles on Street Road is way beyond the Prize Patrol of the Pub McGuire Clearing House-In, huh Misses 1969 Marola, give me another toot sometime and don't talk in Latin or say “HI MARK” and just hang up. That is all so stupid and immature, but then this great marvelous wonderful awesome family, what can I expect folks? Jack-35, in many parallel universes, there was a president before him and he was the 36th, but here, let us not fabricate anything just to make it click together better, YO.
Every time I blog, tiny flying 'creatures; come literally out of the nowhere and into the Captain Shatner here, and annoy the fucking hell out of me, and when I am not blogging, they vanish into the leave-him-alone-zone. It is as totally fucking dependable and predictable as the greatest Swiss ass time piece ever built, and I will most gladly put it to the test with anyone at any time, and in any mother fucking place, Disc-Jockey, or not, DONNA SUMMER, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, what are the fucking odds David Charles ass Roth?????????
People today witnessed that some invisible force indeed fucks with me on machines such as glorified adding machines better and or also AKA known sir PRINCE, as PC's, whether they can sing the high notes or not Odd-Couple Twilight Zone Oscar not Felix. Well in any event Lads and Lassies and yes my wonderful Labradors, I will post up my own version of Scylla's great song. It should be called, “Love is for Carpenters 2” in pursuit of 1980's original power house 2nd interaction with this great All Mighty Goddess, but it instead will be called, as it is called in millions of parallel universes, “WANNA SPEND MY TIME”, and this will be up tomorrow afternoon. NICK KNOWS that I'm typing this, as instantly, a powerful bunch of his thug pals hurled out mega watts of thundering crap all around me ol' house me maitees, YARR!!!!!!! For a dude who doesn't like anyone and I mean anyone touching or playing with any of his personal stuff, wow; turn the tables a little, and look at old bent out of shape you, like DUH, Hyundai cars and high school musical movies, BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 'Color me so impressed' Mister Detective Lenny Briscoe Beethoven.
In the year of 1997, I resided in a home in Somerdale, new jersey, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, in this exact universe and its matching atomic vibrations in hyperspace, minding my own damn business, and fell into a very unsettled and troubled sleep, when POW, suddenly the PRIZE PATROL was outside my house, only they forgot to bring any heating oil or Unical Bush pals, or a gorgeous coed named K.J. McAllister along with them, but they did manage to bring the Charmed Sandman along for the ride, and he threw sand in my eyes, and then all hell broke loose with this lovely song being sung to me, naturally, and like an ass hole, I could not put '2 and 2' together with the copyrighted project I did 10 years later in OH-MAROLA-7. All of this story has been blogged and it all officially fucking exists for the entire mother fucking world to see at the bloggers original website that is GOOGLE owned and operated, so just merely type in: www.blogger.com/. None of this tale is fictional or delusional, and it CANNOT BE RATIONALLY EXPLAINED AWAY, not by (231) million fucking psychiatrists from the (PP) of the (PC), oh and did that light up any screens in the NSA or any other BFA, but let us touch on these genius mind-realm experts here for a few minutes, if I may be “UNCLE” Heinz Gottwald-175-permitted to do so, YO? 'Head Shrinks' date back to the so-called father of modern day shrinkology, Doctor Freud. I said the keyword here folks, MODERN DAY. Did you know however, that just as outdoor and indoor aqueduct plumbing, medical operations, high and complex mathematical computations such as advanced algebraic and trig mechanics, and much more; is thousands of freaking years old, so also is the examining of the mind-realm by the shrinkology docs, YO. This is a true historical fact. In the days of the freaking Roman Empire, modern day 'experts' of these times invented the word psyche and soul where our modern words all come from today, and did you further know that it was considered insane and mental illness, to have the desire to be a FREE person, if you happened to be a SLAVE? So really peeps, you tell me who is using these disinformation techniques such as psychiatry and mental illness study, to keep us all in line, OR ELSE. Make us think we are crazy when we are totally not. We are not imagining m,other fucking squat. This is not to say there is no real mental illness, as just like physical illness, of course these things exist and are totally real. But anyone can label a person as mentally ill now when they merely insist that some plot exists to wipe out their life, and it is 100% total mother fucking true and accurate, so is this not a license for the rich and powerful and unscrupulous Wall Street cheaters and 'bail-outers' at our fucking expense, to do whatever the hell they want to any one of us and at any time, and get totally fucking Scott free away with it, you fucking tell me peeps, YO???????
This was another very fucking bad day folks, I may do anything tomorrow, it will be their next move. This song is Scylla's property, only not here. Here, it is the energetic reaction of my falling asleep in 1997 one night, and being visited by the Prize Patrol, McAllister, Richard Karpf, and last but certainly not at all least, two powerful letters in the mailbox, right Gawky? Parents! All I know is that 1969, 1980, 1994, and 2011 have a mathematical sequence that any first year grad student majoring in any math discipline can see in short order. These are years where two things always happened, only not yet in this one, I am patiently awaiting and who know what tomorrow might bring? Keep fucking pissing me off world, and JOURNBAL-TAPE #-1786. keep cutting my fingers freezer boy, and keep these American Appliances and American Express things going strong. Maggie the healer can also hurt, and the eyes of slant know just how much, but why does it strike over there so much? Well, whoever is truly behind all of my miseries and shit, has not as of yet actually begun doing it. I learned this when I look back at my questionable hollering on an open reel master tape in August of 1986. Now by the quoting of the recently made television commercial, who really owns this nation, as they have basically bought all of its debt? The answer is China, Japan, and many areas where lots of recent-current-millennium shaking and quaking is going on. Maggie is not time sensitive, any more than lots of computer things are not case-letter sensitive, passwords of course excluded.
Yes foes and friends, Morians and Lessians and Inbetweenians, it all makes perfect logical sense, but not if you are not looking for truth. I was not for a long time, and I too was fucking totally blind. I am the one who wrote the song, 'REAL GOOD GIRL', so screw the wrestling world. What I mean is that if I can let the hugest event in human history happen and slip by me totally jun noticed, you must see that I have merit when I say that most people are passing by life without even looking. I thought I was pretty damn intuitive, and look what I missed, come on,. Is this powerful on a James fucking Patterson level or not, give an honest opinion, don't freaking count me out like a moron, when you all know deep down that something is major ass going on in my life and I at least have the fucking balls to get online and blog it out to the fucking public world, forever ruining any chance of a future or a career, you think I am retarded or something and don;t fucking know all this shit, YO?
I have, as you all do five senses. No one has a sixth sense. You either hone in and super tune your five gods-given senses, or you choose to ignore shit, or fall into virtually unlimited categories that lay somewhere in-between these two realities. This world is in some big ass trouble in the coming days and that Kimba Whitelion, 'you can be 1969 sure', BRO. ------------------------------
THIS TRANSMISSION IS NOW TERMINATING, & who knows what else may be?
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 127
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 127
8:20 PM, TUESDAY, APRIL 19, 2011
BEGINNING:
Starting at 7:25 this evening, I fell under a fucking death siege from my WOMO enemies.
It is quite obvious for the mother fucking record, who is doing this, and why. It all began after I came back from wherever I was on and before the 15th of August in 1986. It all seems to be totally connected with the Philadelphia Flyers Hockey fucking garbage team, as well as the Dow Jones Stock Market, as I have stated and proclaimed right along. Obviously a game is going on tonight, and this will be game three in the fucking playoffs. My electronic fucking shit is being totally hack ed and fucked with Robert McDowell, please try and help me if you can, in any event, it will be a 2-1 series with the cheating fucking Flyers ahead in a few hours, that is fucking certain.
When my hacker friends take care of business later this week on Thursday afternoon, do not be fucking surprised if the entire planet Earth and seven plus billion [persons are all dead and gone forever. UI warned your fucking asses to fucking to leave me the shit alone you jerk off mother fucking scum bags. I do not claim to understand what has taken place for nearly 25 years, but it appears I do remember more than anyone else involved, so I am ahead of the game a little bit, for all the good it does me after things all blow apart on Thursday when I leave the fucking recording studio. You all had your fucking chance, and up blew it, dirt bags. No one can suffer throughout forever and not fucking strike back.
ENDING: '4-REAL/EEEEEEEEEEEEEE'
8:20 PM, TUESDAY, APRIL 19, 2011
BEGINNING:
Starting at 7:25 this evening, I fell under a fucking death siege from my WOMO enemies.
It is quite obvious for the mother fucking record, who is doing this, and why. It all began after I came back from wherever I was on and before the 15th of August in 1986. It all seems to be totally connected with the Philadelphia Flyers Hockey fucking garbage team, as well as the Dow Jones Stock Market, as I have stated and proclaimed right along. Obviously a game is going on tonight, and this will be game three in the fucking playoffs. My electronic fucking shit is being totally hack ed and fucked with Robert McDowell, please try and help me if you can, in any event, it will be a 2-1 series with the cheating fucking Flyers ahead in a few hours, that is fucking certain.
When my hacker friends take care of business later this week on Thursday afternoon, do not be fucking surprised if the entire planet Earth and seven plus billion [persons are all dead and gone forever. UI warned your fucking asses to fucking to leave me the shit alone you jerk off mother fucking scum bags. I do not claim to understand what has taken place for nearly 25 years, but it appears I do remember more than anyone else involved, so I am ahead of the game a little bit, for all the good it does me after things all blow apart on Thursday when I leave the fucking recording studio. You all had your fucking chance, and up blew it, dirt bags. No one can suffer throughout forever and not fucking strike back.
ENDING: '4-REAL/EEEEEEEEEEEEEE'
Sunday, April 17, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 126
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 126
DATFILE: 041711.857
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well world, I asked for it and I got it. Now I have something in common with the great Doctor Martin King. We both had a dream.
Let me blog what I learned, without telling the details of the dreaming-interaction, as this is quite a private matter. In my previous blog of SJ-#125, I told the GREAT SARAH, to let me understand why SHE wants to play in a sandbox. I was shown something way too huge to totally blog and tell, but here is the outer encrustation, enough to read and at least make some sense of it, for my loyal readership and Morians.
The setting was in a distant part of reality, and without the great Sarah Krassle ever physically appearing to me in any recognizable way, I came to analyze this powerful experience since I 'awoke out of it' earlier today around 11:30 AM, and now have my entire question that I posed to HER on this past blog, totally reve3aled and answered to me.
THANK YOU SO MUCH, MY BROWN EYED LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The setting was the Haddonwood Swim and Health Club, and also was part of numerous other realities, all mixed together, many from movies and not any so-called real life. I include this to show the more enlightened of my followers how I now understand the “phase-4” connection with all of the numerous dimensions of reality, and also how I either remembered some parts of what I thought I knew in my future lifetime as Labber Zeggins, or else they are not totally accurate themselves in their beliefs up there in 2300. Without breaking confidence in secrets told to me by the All Mighty SSJK, here is now what I know and understand as a result of being given this incredible dream, and then having the entire afternoon to slowly and very methodically, put it all together until all the pieces fitted together with perfect precision accuracy. The void infinity is the only real 'thing'. Escaping Lawtrons eventually dream out and away as said before, and create a system of regulatory building blocks that from this point, become as seeds that eventually grow into the rest of the new reality of the new closed curve infinity. This is old news, but this needs to be told and refreshed in my reader's minds. There are a few secrets that I have not been made privy to despite being made an unwilling partner in some of these secrets, and these being, breaking these regulatory systems, sort of on human terms, we may think of laws, law breakers, and those who manage to get patsies doing dirty work for these breakers of the law, and then the patsies themselves, in the case here, this would be me, and in the year of 1979 in particular when they got me to create a metaphysical personality on an open reel tape recording machine, my RS-1500-US, and the character being a man who owns most of New York and Atlantic Cities, and brags, and thinks he is a god, and loves himself, a tall man who loves his women and his power, and is ruthless, and brags, and looks down on the lowly population, and has boats and planes and properties, and on and on, just as in the character that the 'WOMO' somehow engineered me into creating on this tape machine in 1979, in a word for word description of the great Donald J. Trump, whose astral Plane name is none other than Shorty MacInvondi, but not a real Astral Plane name, even though 'Shorty' is quite often used as a nickname for many tall persons right here in the human life arena of Mister Shakespeare, but what I'm attempting to describe and tell here today, is simply that I have talked before in some length on many prior blogs from 1-6 years ago or so, about entities called in future World-Labs lingo, “PHASE-4” entities. Trump is a P-4-E. Not the physical man and the body that was born of woman, his mother, this is not what is being claimed. What I am telling is the total truth, that a PHASE-4 ENTITY, manipulated, controlled, and totally dominated me, overriding my normal life pattern; and used me to do something with my electronic equipment back in the year of 1979, that caused this 'personality', to suddenly begin developing inside the all ready existing human being going by the name of billionaire Donald J. Trump. I will swear to this in a court of law, all though no court in 2011, or any time in the near future, would accept any of my so-called 'nonsense' into evidence, despite it all being totally 100% freaking true and correct. This elaborated story that seems on the surface to be a diverted tangent from the main point and issue, is indeed anything but peeps so keep listening.
Phase 4 beings are all over the Astral Plane. First the void infinity has a collective of previous closed-curve-infinity that in future times has been labeled over-lapping discfinity reality, and OLDR for short. It's pronounced for easy quick wordage as we would say the word opposite of younger, and is almost a pun, as it implies younger and older infinities endlessly locked into an infinitely large super-infinity that somehow eventually closes up together at some unfathomable distant set of points, that lay far beyond the reach and scope of even the science of humankind in the year of 2300, and anyone's most wild imagination. Here now is how things all fit together, and come to answer my question that I posed to SSJK last night on my last blog. It really was so simple that I am totally embarrassed today that I was unable to see through this simple, once realized, super maze. Many phase-4 beings exist and the way that they come to exist once they dream out and away from the void infinity and become collective-Lawtron, and from there, fall down into the 6th-dimensional MIND-REALM, where separate energy dots of pure mind, or 'THOUGHT' of a sort, begin literally sending themselves into a wild interaction called, the ASTRAL-PLANE. This is where it all would end up, and the end of the entire story would be right here, IF, it were not for the PHASE-4-ENTITIES, (P4E). When the dream out and away from VOID is finally accomplished and a new cycle 7th-Dimension comes into being, they set up rules and within these rules, the mind rules comes into being, and then, the very system of this realm, sending itself into this gigantic spirit world that is like a beyond ultra super virtual reality video game, is also all a part of this organized controlled Lawtronic dream out from the prior void infinity cycle. Nothing on the seventh dimension was ever designed for any dream-downs from this spirit-world or ASTRAL-PLANE, into a tangible and material multiple virtually limitless parallel universe lower reality. This is not in the system or the program, if you think of all this in the way that the movie MATRIX depicts a similar thing here. It all is meant to merely go down into mind and then individually separate into entity and interaction on a realm where no space or time is real in so much as having any significance or connection to itself, such as for example, one day can be like the year 1800 and the next day like the year 2000. One day New York City and Philadelphia may be 90 miles apart, and the next day, 10 miles apart. Time and space is only there to support the interaction, unlike the total opposite here in tangible realms where these are constant realities and do not change, and time appears to be in a linear order. We need time and space in tangible material realms in order to support human life and interaction here in the mortal waking world of the hyperspace, the exact inverse and reverse of the Astral-Plane, where the interaction is set up, and then the time and the space that is pertinent to the interaction merely comes along for the ride. Naturally, this is why the world of Jennifer Hewitt is all fictional bunk, as you cannot ever hope to merge the worlds of the material and the worlds of the spiritual, not with this huge barrier of this great 'rule of reverse'. Now P4E become what they are by trying to break the laws or attempting to go against the system of LAWTRONICS. For example, Trump wanted to come in here and be this, well, whatever he is, I call a spade a spade, some peeps really like this butt wipe dude, some like shoveling pig shit too, so who am I to judge? Anyway in moving along with this, this is what he wanted, and it was beyond what was originally permitted. Most of the time, entities cannot break LAWTRONICS, it is a lot more intricate than just deciding to break a human world law and as long as you get away with it, there is no punitation beyond whatever becomes transfixed as a resulting factor, to your own guilty or not so guilty conscience. When trying to break lawtronics as opposed to just laws in a physical world, you need to bypass a powerful system that is in place that is there to most of the time, stop you totally and completely from doing this thing. There are however ways that clever entities have gotten around this. The very top and greatest ones who did this, are now the Astral-Plane Gods. Every time the system is bypassed, just as in human world affairs, the next time something similar is tried, it is all ready further blocked and preventing another entity from copying this mischievous event. It is virtually impossible now for any new P4E to come to be, and do an my more mystical powerful things. Still, what's been done, now exists in this present closed curve infinity cycle of 64 trillion light years in a 5 dimensional circumference.
Without boring those who do not care of learning more of the foundation to all of this, and just want me to get to the heart and the meat of the issue of Scylla's answer to me in last night's 'dreaming-interaction', here it is as simply and quickly as I can make it. Only the powerful gods, who are as I just said, P4E, can cause changes on the Astral-Plane. The original system from the 7th-D never permitted dream-downs into a created material 5th dimensional hyperspace of virtually unlimited amounts of parallel universes, vibrating atomically at much slower orbitals, which create the less light starry Astral Plane, and instead, create an entire hyperspace of countless universes of physical plane reality where carbon beings can begin to awaken from their truer Astral-World realities and persona's. First, it has to be understood that while on the Astral Plane, you are endlessly aware of infinite existence as time is only real in time worlds, so you perceive your existence in truth, or said in another way, in endless interactions that have no connections to or with each other, and have no origins or terminations, never, ever, and this can become HELL very quickly, without the amplified sentences from the AWA to many, into that region across the bay from the great city, called DOGTOWN. The KJV Holy Bible references this in the final pages, in the Book of Saint John's Revelation. This is a very good translation. Others will not tell all of the nuances needed to see what is happening. Things talked about such as the city surrounded by many waters, and Babylon, and outside the city are dogs, and so much more, will all be lost, and newer translations are totally fucking it all up. Long story made short, the great SSJK has so much power that SHE has allowed a magical event to take place in HER great city of 'Sahasra Dal Kanwal', (HEAVEN), not Costner Cornfield Iowa, and what this is all about is that a powerful Astral Plane memory is removed from all citizens of this great city, and that is the memory that there is no end or beginning to existence. Just as your pet dog for example, has no idea that it ever was born, and that it ever will die, where as its human owner knows this truth, this same deal takes place in the spirit-world, but only in this great city of SDK. Also, everything is a major trade off, here, there, anywhere and everywhere, the reap and sow trade-off laws are built into all systems, from the LAWTRON on and inside of every closed curve infinity cycle. This law is inviolate. So in order to keep this hellish thought endlessly out of the minds of the dwellers in the great city, SCYLLA HERSELF has to take the thought energy. For any time that any entity would be enduring this horrendous thought of endlessness, SHE has to feel the pain of it instead, and this keeps all of HER citizens totally endlessly unaware. As the dog on the Earth, they plow endlessly through created interactions, without ever thinking of this, forever and ever. SHE on the other hand, as happy as SHE is ion Her great city, has the terrible task of knowing this and feeling the agony of this. This is not only why she allows others in the Purgatory, all places on the Astral Plane that are not part of HER great city of SDK, or DOGTOWN, are permitted to dream-down into the 5th dimensional hyperspace, where they can have the vacation experience of mortality, and actually get to fear extinction, a reality that is totally bogus, yet the opposite truth is now the most feared thing here in all of our hyperspace interdreams. Naturally, SHE as well needs to forget, and live her great life here as well, and does, all throughout time and hyperspace. The only reason that HER last two lifetimes are emulating HER great City and HER great musical abilities, is because these are the two periods where HER, 'THAT-BOY', is alive as me, and with the memories of me, both here, and there, thanks to HER cousin Diana, who was instrumental in helping me remember and realize so many things. It was all planned forever ago and was never merely hoped or wished, that I would come to understand HER agonizing pain that SHE was willing to accept, this knowledge of endless existence. This so totally explains HER desire to live in Her present lifetime humanly, and now of course, never know or be aware during her happiness and years of making music here on the Earth as she loves so much to do in the heavens in HER great city of SDK, now that I truly know of her pain, I would not ever wish for her to remember her life in infinity, great as it is, and with HER, 'THAT-BOY'. She will read this now, or later or eventually, or maybe never, and laugh on a conscious level, and I would not have it any other way. Now it is my turn to tell HER that I will spare the world from what I had planned to do, sorry about your credibility going to hell next week, Harold Camping. SHE answered me, and now, I must keep my promise to my TEEN-QUEEN, and wait out my 20 years, and then I am endlessly with HER, without this horrible dream 'dogging' me any longer. The part of last nights' 'dream' that made me see how phase four all fit together with this, was how real world stuff and movie stuff all seemed to be coexisting together. From there, the clues were as easy to follow as all of your other messages from all of your wonderful songs.
I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to know this, and answering my prayer, my lovely Jehovah, how I'll always love and miss you while here in this nightmare. Still, I can go to sleep every night and shut off this worldly awareness, and be with you, where KI truly am, while you sing endless lovely songs to me, in your shop, or your Palace, or out on your Viqueens Island. Try and forget any and every thing about me and my blogs, SSJK, live your life here and make the most of it, I am behind you all the way. You know this is true, brown eyes.
END TRANSMISSION:
DATFILE: 041711.857
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well world, I asked for it and I got it. Now I have something in common with the great Doctor Martin King. We both had a dream.
Let me blog what I learned, without telling the details of the dreaming-interaction, as this is quite a private matter. In my previous blog of SJ-#125, I told the GREAT SARAH, to let me understand why SHE wants to play in a sandbox. I was shown something way too huge to totally blog and tell, but here is the outer encrustation, enough to read and at least make some sense of it, for my loyal readership and Morians.
The setting was in a distant part of reality, and without the great Sarah Krassle ever physically appearing to me in any recognizable way, I came to analyze this powerful experience since I 'awoke out of it' earlier today around 11:30 AM, and now have my entire question that I posed to HER on this past blog, totally reve3aled and answered to me.
THANK YOU SO MUCH, MY BROWN EYED LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The setting was the Haddonwood Swim and Health Club, and also was part of numerous other realities, all mixed together, many from movies and not any so-called real life. I include this to show the more enlightened of my followers how I now understand the “phase-4” connection with all of the numerous dimensions of reality, and also how I either remembered some parts of what I thought I knew in my future lifetime as Labber Zeggins, or else they are not totally accurate themselves in their beliefs up there in 2300. Without breaking confidence in secrets told to me by the All Mighty SSJK, here is now what I know and understand as a result of being given this incredible dream, and then having the entire afternoon to slowly and very methodically, put it all together until all the pieces fitted together with perfect precision accuracy. The void infinity is the only real 'thing'. Escaping Lawtrons eventually dream out and away as said before, and create a system of regulatory building blocks that from this point, become as seeds that eventually grow into the rest of the new reality of the new closed curve infinity. This is old news, but this needs to be told and refreshed in my reader's minds. There are a few secrets that I have not been made privy to despite being made an unwilling partner in some of these secrets, and these being, breaking these regulatory systems, sort of on human terms, we may think of laws, law breakers, and those who manage to get patsies doing dirty work for these breakers of the law, and then the patsies themselves, in the case here, this would be me, and in the year of 1979 in particular when they got me to create a metaphysical personality on an open reel tape recording machine, my RS-1500-US, and the character being a man who owns most of New York and Atlantic Cities, and brags, and thinks he is a god, and loves himself, a tall man who loves his women and his power, and is ruthless, and brags, and looks down on the lowly population, and has boats and planes and properties, and on and on, just as in the character that the 'WOMO' somehow engineered me into creating on this tape machine in 1979, in a word for word description of the great Donald J. Trump, whose astral Plane name is none other than Shorty MacInvondi, but not a real Astral Plane name, even though 'Shorty' is quite often used as a nickname for many tall persons right here in the human life arena of Mister Shakespeare, but what I'm attempting to describe and tell here today, is simply that I have talked before in some length on many prior blogs from 1-6 years ago or so, about entities called in future World-Labs lingo, “PHASE-4” entities. Trump is a P-4-E. Not the physical man and the body that was born of woman, his mother, this is not what is being claimed. What I am telling is the total truth, that a PHASE-4 ENTITY, manipulated, controlled, and totally dominated me, overriding my normal life pattern; and used me to do something with my electronic equipment back in the year of 1979, that caused this 'personality', to suddenly begin developing inside the all ready existing human being going by the name of billionaire Donald J. Trump. I will swear to this in a court of law, all though no court in 2011, or any time in the near future, would accept any of my so-called 'nonsense' into evidence, despite it all being totally 100% freaking true and correct. This elaborated story that seems on the surface to be a diverted tangent from the main point and issue, is indeed anything but peeps so keep listening.
Phase 4 beings are all over the Astral Plane. First the void infinity has a collective of previous closed-curve-infinity that in future times has been labeled over-lapping discfinity reality, and OLDR for short. It's pronounced for easy quick wordage as we would say the word opposite of younger, and is almost a pun, as it implies younger and older infinities endlessly locked into an infinitely large super-infinity that somehow eventually closes up together at some unfathomable distant set of points, that lay far beyond the reach and scope of even the science of humankind in the year of 2300, and anyone's most wild imagination. Here now is how things all fit together, and come to answer my question that I posed to SSJK last night on my last blog. It really was so simple that I am totally embarrassed today that I was unable to see through this simple, once realized, super maze. Many phase-4 beings exist and the way that they come to exist once they dream out and away from the void infinity and become collective-Lawtron, and from there, fall down into the 6th-dimensional MIND-REALM, where separate energy dots of pure mind, or 'THOUGHT' of a sort, begin literally sending themselves into a wild interaction called, the ASTRAL-PLANE. This is where it all would end up, and the end of the entire story would be right here, IF, it were not for the PHASE-4-ENTITIES, (P4E). When the dream out and away from VOID is finally accomplished and a new cycle 7th-Dimension comes into being, they set up rules and within these rules, the mind rules comes into being, and then, the very system of this realm, sending itself into this gigantic spirit world that is like a beyond ultra super virtual reality video game, is also all a part of this organized controlled Lawtronic dream out from the prior void infinity cycle. Nothing on the seventh dimension was ever designed for any dream-downs from this spirit-world or ASTRAL-PLANE, into a tangible and material multiple virtually limitless parallel universe lower reality. This is not in the system or the program, if you think of all this in the way that the movie MATRIX depicts a similar thing here. It all is meant to merely go down into mind and then individually separate into entity and interaction on a realm where no space or time is real in so much as having any significance or connection to itself, such as for example, one day can be like the year 1800 and the next day like the year 2000. One day New York City and Philadelphia may be 90 miles apart, and the next day, 10 miles apart. Time and space is only there to support the interaction, unlike the total opposite here in tangible realms where these are constant realities and do not change, and time appears to be in a linear order. We need time and space in tangible material realms in order to support human life and interaction here in the mortal waking world of the hyperspace, the exact inverse and reverse of the Astral-Plane, where the interaction is set up, and then the time and the space that is pertinent to the interaction merely comes along for the ride. Naturally, this is why the world of Jennifer Hewitt is all fictional bunk, as you cannot ever hope to merge the worlds of the material and the worlds of the spiritual, not with this huge barrier of this great 'rule of reverse'. Now P4E become what they are by trying to break the laws or attempting to go against the system of LAWTRONICS. For example, Trump wanted to come in here and be this, well, whatever he is, I call a spade a spade, some peeps really like this butt wipe dude, some like shoveling pig shit too, so who am I to judge? Anyway in moving along with this, this is what he wanted, and it was beyond what was originally permitted. Most of the time, entities cannot break LAWTRONICS, it is a lot more intricate than just deciding to break a human world law and as long as you get away with it, there is no punitation beyond whatever becomes transfixed as a resulting factor, to your own guilty or not so guilty conscience. When trying to break lawtronics as opposed to just laws in a physical world, you need to bypass a powerful system that is in place that is there to most of the time, stop you totally and completely from doing this thing. There are however ways that clever entities have gotten around this. The very top and greatest ones who did this, are now the Astral-Plane Gods. Every time the system is bypassed, just as in human world affairs, the next time something similar is tried, it is all ready further blocked and preventing another entity from copying this mischievous event. It is virtually impossible now for any new P4E to come to be, and do an my more mystical powerful things. Still, what's been done, now exists in this present closed curve infinity cycle of 64 trillion light years in a 5 dimensional circumference.
Without boring those who do not care of learning more of the foundation to all of this, and just want me to get to the heart and the meat of the issue of Scylla's answer to me in last night's 'dreaming-interaction', here it is as simply and quickly as I can make it. Only the powerful gods, who are as I just said, P4E, can cause changes on the Astral-Plane. The original system from the 7th-D never permitted dream-downs into a created material 5th dimensional hyperspace of virtually unlimited amounts of parallel universes, vibrating atomically at much slower orbitals, which create the less light starry Astral Plane, and instead, create an entire hyperspace of countless universes of physical plane reality where carbon beings can begin to awaken from their truer Astral-World realities and persona's. First, it has to be understood that while on the Astral Plane, you are endlessly aware of infinite existence as time is only real in time worlds, so you perceive your existence in truth, or said in another way, in endless interactions that have no connections to or with each other, and have no origins or terminations, never, ever, and this can become HELL very quickly, without the amplified sentences from the AWA to many, into that region across the bay from the great city, called DOGTOWN. The KJV Holy Bible references this in the final pages, in the Book of Saint John's Revelation. This is a very good translation. Others will not tell all of the nuances needed to see what is happening. Things talked about such as the city surrounded by many waters, and Babylon, and outside the city are dogs, and so much more, will all be lost, and newer translations are totally fucking it all up. Long story made short, the great SSJK has so much power that SHE has allowed a magical event to take place in HER great city of 'Sahasra Dal Kanwal', (HEAVEN), not Costner Cornfield Iowa, and what this is all about is that a powerful Astral Plane memory is removed from all citizens of this great city, and that is the memory that there is no end or beginning to existence. Just as your pet dog for example, has no idea that it ever was born, and that it ever will die, where as its human owner knows this truth, this same deal takes place in the spirit-world, but only in this great city of SDK. Also, everything is a major trade off, here, there, anywhere and everywhere, the reap and sow trade-off laws are built into all systems, from the LAWTRON on and inside of every closed curve infinity cycle. This law is inviolate. So in order to keep this hellish thought endlessly out of the minds of the dwellers in the great city, SCYLLA HERSELF has to take the thought energy. For any time that any entity would be enduring this horrendous thought of endlessness, SHE has to feel the pain of it instead, and this keeps all of HER citizens totally endlessly unaware. As the dog on the Earth, they plow endlessly through created interactions, without ever thinking of this, forever and ever. SHE on the other hand, as happy as SHE is ion Her great city, has the terrible task of knowing this and feeling the agony of this. This is not only why she allows others in the Purgatory, all places on the Astral Plane that are not part of HER great city of SDK, or DOGTOWN, are permitted to dream-down into the 5th dimensional hyperspace, where they can have the vacation experience of mortality, and actually get to fear extinction, a reality that is totally bogus, yet the opposite truth is now the most feared thing here in all of our hyperspace interdreams. Naturally, SHE as well needs to forget, and live her great life here as well, and does, all throughout time and hyperspace. The only reason that HER last two lifetimes are emulating HER great City and HER great musical abilities, is because these are the two periods where HER, 'THAT-BOY', is alive as me, and with the memories of me, both here, and there, thanks to HER cousin Diana, who was instrumental in helping me remember and realize so many things. It was all planned forever ago and was never merely hoped or wished, that I would come to understand HER agonizing pain that SHE was willing to accept, this knowledge of endless existence. This so totally explains HER desire to live in Her present lifetime humanly, and now of course, never know or be aware during her happiness and years of making music here on the Earth as she loves so much to do in the heavens in HER great city of SDK, now that I truly know of her pain, I would not ever wish for her to remember her life in infinity, great as it is, and with HER, 'THAT-BOY'. She will read this now, or later or eventually, or maybe never, and laugh on a conscious level, and I would not have it any other way. Now it is my turn to tell HER that I will spare the world from what I had planned to do, sorry about your credibility going to hell next week, Harold Camping. SHE answered me, and now, I must keep my promise to my TEEN-QUEEN, and wait out my 20 years, and then I am endlessly with HER, without this horrible dream 'dogging' me any longer. The part of last nights' 'dream' that made me see how phase four all fit together with this, was how real world stuff and movie stuff all seemed to be coexisting together. From there, the clues were as easy to follow as all of your other messages from all of your wonderful songs.
I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to know this, and answering my prayer, my lovely Jehovah, how I'll always love and miss you while here in this nightmare. Still, I can go to sleep every night and shut off this worldly awareness, and be with you, where KI truly am, while you sing endless lovely songs to me, in your shop, or your Palace, or out on your Viqueens Island. Try and forget any and every thing about me and my blogs, SSJK, live your life here and make the most of it, I am behind you all the way. You know this is true, brown eyes.
END TRANSMISSION:
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