SAFE JOURNAL, CHATER 0222
7:09 PM, MONDAY, AUGUST 29TH, 2011
BLOG BEGINS:
WELCOME TO THE NIGHTMARES OF CLYDE LINTON KLINE. David Roth, if he had not been murdered by Mister Schau from Northeast Drake Towers Philly, Pennsylvania, for the life insurance money; would also add a few cute and clever words into this mix. He would add, also, to the world of LIGHTNING GODDESSES, BOTBARS, AND JITBAGS, very fitting, very apropos, and quite bold and audacious as well. On this partly cloudy night, just a bit shy of sunset, here in hot Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG; let me tell the world and any loyal Morians some real powerful stuff that is going to be difficult to argue with me on, all though so many will of course, endlessly try, since the HUNTINGTON-KLINE CURSE is always in full effect, and is totally responsible for all of these situations that thereby will endlessly lay far out beyond my control, or the heart of rock and roll copyrighted Clyde, keeping things in the new fashion, and bringing me to this powerful next paragraph, that proves me right, MISSES MAROLA OF 1969, and all the rest of you endlessly wrong. Oh the days of Misses Stoemeyer above me, blaring out her opera records at all hours of the night, only my poor mom had to listen, as my bedroom faced the corner leaving an entire room in-between me and this loud loveliness, back in 1967, oh yes sir, the next time you come over here, PATTERSON, “I'LL BE DEAD”, not exactly PC in this century, but then, that was that century, and even better still, THAT-BOY did not have to witness this horror show, dear sweet departed darling mommy, YO!!!!!!!! And then along came 300 years, and WORLD LABS, gee, golly gash, darn federal men of 1988, and 1966 who thanks to my wonderful old fart father, sorry Frank asshole Lombardo, for my lack of family respect, duh, but oh the wanderlust called him long before it ever called you, oh great disco diva of yesteryear!!
Only a few will understand all of this, and that is all fine and well, as I will be shortly packing up, and leaving for Mexico. No one believed my blogs in the autumn of 2008 when I said I am doing a Harry Callas Home Run from New Jersey, and I really do not care in the slightest, who believes or refuses to believe me now. One thing I have earned, is that when no feelings are involved whatsoever, no problem. Striking a bad tooth without the proper application of Novocain however, and a child can see the knee-jerk reactions that life has always demonstrated. This is why this great Queen of Dance of the pre 1980 circa, felt the need to do that project with that name, it also is why I get yelled at so often, by so many peeps. In addition, it leads me to realize that Paula and McKinnon may have issues with me, as my daughter remains either one of two things, mysteriously silent or very complementary. When, as my mother always said since I was knee high to a turtle, despite the LAW AND ORDER dribble that is heard on television, a person feels badly, the normal reaction is attack. This tells me that some other peeps or force, put Tom Reale up to doing that dastardly deed to me, back in 1970, and all the other things that I simply will not bother to talk on and on about and waste your time and my time, folks. In any event, poor old Clyde Kline knew back on Saturday night, that THE DOW JONES STOCK MARKET WOIULD FLY ON MONDAY, after the pre mentioned incident, and who knows, maybe certain peeps have money invested, hence a motive for things, I cannot make that judgment call, nor do I, I said and before it is taken out of contest by any ill tempered folks anywhere, “WHO KNOWS”?I would not want to bet a weeks pay either way, but I'd put up maybe five bucks. After-all, I have never underestimated certain peeps or situations, well, Clyde Kline hasn't anyway, but let us talk about Clyde kline, and August 2010 and August 2011, as if some precision Swiss time piece machinery isn't somehow running this entire show, and it is, from and on, THE SIXTH DIMENSION, as Clyde Kline always made claim to, but then, with or without university degrees and great knowledge or wisdom, or any Brigham Young peeps or unmentionable others; there was a dude who came from the great distant stars who sold me an old Cadillac, when I was dreaming it was the year of 1977, well, when poor pathetic twisted screwed up Clyde Kline was. Yes skate key man, you did teach me how to properly spell the word, “Professional”, but how did you sleep through Stroemyer's music all night long, in the “D” apartment above you? Then there is Deegan, Johnson, and the great Lillian Craig, we need not even start to touch any of that tonight, or Clyde does not, as now, let us talk about the way my blogs are being interfered with, almost in perfect calendrical order, first last year, and again back at the end of last week. In 2010, I was blocked and prevented from telling my true tale of hell and tears, through and via computer technology and mechanical hacking. A year later, after I got the FIBBIE gang finally seeing the importance of HACKING, and recognizing these horrible peeps that do it; now it can no longer be done that directly, so they somehow engineer a person to mess with me. Oh did I say me, I meant to say Clyde Kline folks. Believe me peeps, this destruction of my right to freely speak without threats and intimidation, or direct technological blocks; is CAUSING HUGE BULLISH MOVES ON WALL STREET, and yo expect poor Clyde to think that this is just some random coincidence, when trillions of dollars are involved in the equation? Well, you can expect or hope for this event all day and night folks, it ain't happening, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know “WHAT” I know, and I never claimed THAT, I said WHAT, just as I never claimed to be Goddess Scylla from the top of mighty sky scraper buildings in great cities, as I am not, only SHE is, and only SHE can make this great claim. I know SHE knew that only I would know what was happening and going on, no one else, so the message came through loud and clear, and thank the gods, not too late.
I knew if I said anything about MOVER-BARRY, he would vanish, and so he did. Ten days ago I dropped him off after work, at the local K-Marty, boom, no more Barry. I know this is all true, and I know who all of you great KENNEDY'S are, and so do the few true MOVERS. Still, MOVERS are not necessarily hyperspace travelers. Stop thinking that anyone needs a physical vehicle. Hyperspace is traveled through with the 6th dimensional mind that has been signaled into us here in 3 dimensions of this waking life. Once, someone learns how to wake up inside of a dream, as they perceive a dream, and then be able instead of watching the movie through a doppelganger perspective, but actually begin to be able to take over and control your doppelganger, and beyond this, other things around you, living and even non-living, well, some of you get the picture of what I've been dealing with. It is quite intricate, and so are some lovely peeps I have been so blessed to have come into my wonderful life, JS. Every time I ever doubt something, I do the unthinkable, I ask this great wonderful kitty cat friend of mine, who I have known for such a long eternity now. He meow's and mathematically provides the answer to anything I ever need to know. Still, I made a promise to MC that I would stop discussing this thing, and so I shall not be a shellfish, or a truce-breaker. Many folks that tried messing with this, I have been told went sort of nuts. I am sorry for this. It is not meant for humans to play with the great GAWNUM, and I was wrong for telling so much about it.
As for the 'ring-tone-caller' from the future, the great internet has shown me some wild stuff. Play your silly games peeps, and see if 'I could care less', OJ Wifebeater. Clyde Kline will speak on, he knows his rights, and has retained council today, enemies know this is not a made up lie or a poker bluff, right kitty? END!!!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0220
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0221
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START OF BLOG:
It is so nice, that the gods in their infinite wisdom, have seen fit to provide me, throughout all the nightmare of the past 25+ horrendous years, with one great friend, Ann King Silva. Basically, the way I feel right now, everyone else on this sick and diseased little planet, can drop right off of the edge of forever, and all I'll do is celebrate. Well, really, Clyde Linton Kline can celebrate. This is my name. Mark Mohr, Michael Mountainpen, and other aliases used on these six years of blogging, are not real. What is real, is that on blog number 0221, now I reveal my true name, finally; call me Fat Clyde, for short. Now this may have the same negative initials of a now retired sergeant at a famous resort city in America called Plesantica, in New Jersey, not all that far from an inland town known as Pennington, where I once had a small business in the nineteen-nineties, that were known about by Astral-Plane forces; the main ones being Dollie Black and Helena Felicia Kessle. Somehow, the County Prosecutor, and his team; knew about these folks, as they steered Clyde every way, except towards the truth when he begged them for their help; some time ago late in the past century. OH, AND THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW WHAT I SHOULD HAVE ALL READY KNOWN, BUT WAS WAY TOO STUPID, ZACK AMK!! Keep the game rolling along, and the endless clues coming.
When I was a boy, I spoke as a boy and thought as a boy, only not entirely, as poor Fat Clyde was a boy many other times, and kept it to himself after coming to realize that all the peeps around him mocked and jeered him for making that ridiculous claim. Still, as a man, and each time that he was, he knows this fact as well, and still knows that he remains endlessly trapped in a place or really a situation, given a nasty name by human beings, HELL. This is it Denny Cuzzfake, you are totally on the $$$$$. I never doubted you for a second, old pal.
Many terrible things happened to poor Fat Clyde, or really, to tiny-skinny Clyde, back when it all began, and when this poor pathetic little shit-bastard, was way too happy to see, or begin to realize any of it; yet the 'LOOP' was always there, all the time, all the times; and forever explaining, what otherwise had absolutely nothing but dead ends, and blocked roads, and no rational answers, not ever.
Between the year 1969 and the year 2011, forty-two years of stuff happened to poor Clyde, who never meant to cause one bit of harm or ill will towards a single soul. Clyde totally knows the entire religion system of this world is phony, fake, and a total lie. The reason is that the laws of reap and sow do not apply to him, nor do the biblical claims that nothing beyond the reality of the human civilization is possible to ever happen to anyone. If two, not one, but TWO powerful things from scripture, are total lies in the life of Fat Clyde, for 42+ years of time now, then the entire mother fucking deal is one huge ass balloon hoax.
By the way, poor Clyde took a major computer hacking, AND NEARLY CRASHED AND DIED WHILE ATTEMPTING TO POST HIS FINAL BLOG UNSDER THE OTHER FALSE NAMES, as this is now the fictional blog of Fat Clyde. All other shit belongs to poor Mark Wayne Mountainpen, and his deluded sick mind, poor fellow, sheeeeeeeeeeit.
Fat Clyde needs to remind some of his wonderful Zack-Close-Friends, and others, that they sure are touchy. Sometimes poor Fat Clyde is asking simple questions of folks, and gets slammed for it, making him then wonder why innocent peeps would be so angry. In fact, some of his Zack-pals made some excellent points, and if said calm and nice without shouting like kids in sandboxes do, he found the rebuts very enlightening, and all though good old Fat Clyde may not totally agree with all that may have been said, some of it was just what he wanted to hear, a good presentation was made when it was brought to Clyde's attention that it can cost a lot more than even 50 grand, for a really professional upgraded production of raw material. This was a point well hit home, but why so much hate and anger had to be there, well, this is the situation that all though Clyde has no answer for in total truth, it has always plagued poor Fat Clyde. In any event, here is a list of the assets of Fat Clyde, so the lawyers can seize them upon winning a court case, for what the life of him, Clyde has no idea what he is being sued for, and a friend-lawyer here in the place where Fat Clyde resides, who read the text that made the plaintiff so angry; which was a blog posted by old Fat Clyde, and who will represent him when papers are filed; said to Clyde this afternoon, and I quote, “What is all this, some joke?” Still, he laughed, and we then went over to a fast food joint and chowed down abnd had a good laugh over it. Still, the assets of Clyde will be listed so that the plaintiff can know what will be received upon winning. I know for a fact that nobody including the Internal Revenue Service, can take away your bed, several pairs of clothes over your back, and food in your kitchen. As for what else is there, well, plaintiff will receive a used 12 inch television worth perhaps 30 bucks, a used keyboard, also worth about same, a dining room table and 3 chairs, along with two lamps, and including the light-bulbs, might total up to another 80 bucks, it is all old and used, and purchased a year ago or so from the great Salvation Army. I know that any Social Security Disability Benefits are exempt, not from the IRS, but then, this is a private person. Clyde also owes another 21 payments on his 2004 Dodge Neon automobile, and with its age and 83,000 mileage; I doubt it has positive value, when $240.00 payments are all multiplied up. If it was taken from me, I of course would refuse to make any further payments. In addition, Fat Clyde can prove legally, that his income from working for the AARP, as well as the SSD monthly checks, totaling no more than 1400 monthly dollars, is exactly the amount of money needed for his survival, with his rent and his other obligations; as well as only a $16.00 monthly food stamp allowance, and a share-cost medicare/medicaid amount, leaving him to pay lots of medical bills for what was done to poor Fat Clyde in 1983, to his lymph glands; and when I subpena certain peeps to testify about it all, most likely due to major complex Kennedy connections, and NASA secrets, the entire thing will be ordered to disappear anyway, but in any event, GOOD LUCK, PAL, and Clyde will gladly honor your command, it was you who called him, just in case your memory is in need of a slight jolt, me' ol' Zack-Friend-Close. Still, this brings this entire blog to a wonderful new dimension. Poor Fat Clyde sees now that his ol' part' really feels that all things said and done, he is fully resolved, and has done no wrong at all, none whatsoever, and you know what, Clyde believes him 100%. Now then, look at what I have accused others of, and yet eternal silence remains. Thank you great sir, for making old Clyde here, come to see a really powerful thing here today, after he reviewed his messages on voice-mail. If anything, you have done old Clyde a really gigantic favor, so if that was not your intention, did you screw it up for yourself. Anyway, thank you, and after this paragraph changes, you, the company, all of it, will never be mentioned in another one of Clyde's Blogs. If you still want to sue poor Clyde, that is entirely your own business. He is clueless to exactly what he wrote, that you could sue him over, but wow; maybe he is about to find out. But if you wanna' call it even-Steven, that is your call. Maybe you know about the sea charts, hey, don't be a fool. They will go to my daughter, and I cannot be forced to do anything with them in my lifetime, not by the biggest federal judge in America; as it would be not only cost prohibitive, but owner rights would need to be changed, as far as this Treasure Coast. The area has all ready been claimed, as I learned by coming down here. So this is worthless paper, and if you force my hand, I will just memorize the positions, and do a Bob McGuire match on the chart.
Ann, thank you for being there, and being my friend, when the world turns on me and hangs me up with nails through me, you at least are there. One loyal friend is all any man ever needs, as Donna reminds me so often, that no man is an island, and she is correct.
I love you IRENE, go up there and knock some heads for me, sweetie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YO. Just swing carefully around my friend Ann. Her evil daughter is gone now, but she did her damage. I did not have enough hell and troubles until she came along, did I folks? It seems that only more mother fucking bullshit is added to me on a year to year steady basis, nothing bad is ever taken away from me, merely, more mother fucking shit is added onto my back, to further weigh down my all ready monstrous unfathomable load. Yeah, first there was nothing, you knew what you were talking about Tupperware Cara, with lots of help from Mutt and Jeff, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well peeps, since this assault on me is beyond relentless and verbal diction times ten to power ten thousand, let me answer back with this little bit of fucking shit. I do not know what “THEY” have done to your song or to your soul, Melanie, but I do know that dangerous Sleep-Walkers abound. Not all movers are SW, and not all SW are movers, and southwest has nothing to do with this. First, there are many types of hypnotic trances, many types of sleep-walkers, and only one Russ Walker, of THE PERMISSION BARRIER book from the year of 1994. There was a strange thing that happened thousands of years ago, that directly connects Atlantic City, New Jersey, and this would be when the lovely wife of Abraham, did not trust Jehovah to give her a son. This has implications that stretch far far beyond any divinity school in this time period, but not beyond a secret told to my Aunt Geraldine Snow now dearly departed as humans might word it, not Doctor Hayward in Pine Valley of course, as he knows better, Right Agnes Photo 10-SC?My cousin Donald Powell did not say this in so many words, but the last time we chowed down together in a restaurant in the Roxborough section of Philadelphia where he resided at the time and maybe still does, he told me that for my own good, I better stop poking around with the “Atlantic City thing”, quote, mother fucking end of fucking quote, YO!!!! I haven't begun to poke around, and you can make the entire world threaten me all you want. I have been wronged by lots of pricks, and if I am destined to get my day in a court of law, well, lotsa shit's coming out.
As for more discussion on PHASE-4, reality and non-reality, interactions on the physical hyperspace planes verses the one single Astral Plane, and much more, will all be told in brand new ways, with brand new keys, in the following blogs. I have had it with intimidation's, theft of my belongings, theft of my soul, and being owned by the Lennyfarian Crew of 1980. Excuse old Fat Clyde if he doesn't just roll over and die, peeps, I have been worked and played by mother fucking experts, so water board on, President Bush and Ambulance Patients who reside in parallel universes where great highways run from Washington, DC, all the way into Vineland, New Jersey, and so much more. You all don't think I've got your numbers? What a fatal mistake, scowl face Trump, as if I give a shit, huh Mister Winn?????????
Starting with SJ-0222, both Sally and Clyde, will be saying something, lots of something's, oh great hoarse Billy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chemtrails and lymph glands, gimme' a bweak Elmer Asshole Fwudd, WHAAAAAAAA!!!
END OF BLOG, YO.
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START OF BLOG:
It is so nice, that the gods in their infinite wisdom, have seen fit to provide me, throughout all the nightmare of the past 25+ horrendous years, with one great friend, Ann King Silva. Basically, the way I feel right now, everyone else on this sick and diseased little planet, can drop right off of the edge of forever, and all I'll do is celebrate. Well, really, Clyde Linton Kline can celebrate. This is my name. Mark Mohr, Michael Mountainpen, and other aliases used on these six years of blogging, are not real. What is real, is that on blog number 0221, now I reveal my true name, finally; call me Fat Clyde, for short. Now this may have the same negative initials of a now retired sergeant at a famous resort city in America called Plesantica, in New Jersey, not all that far from an inland town known as Pennington, where I once had a small business in the nineteen-nineties, that were known about by Astral-Plane forces; the main ones being Dollie Black and Helena Felicia Kessle. Somehow, the County Prosecutor, and his team; knew about these folks, as they steered Clyde every way, except towards the truth when he begged them for their help; some time ago late in the past century. OH, AND THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW WHAT I SHOULD HAVE ALL READY KNOWN, BUT WAS WAY TOO STUPID, ZACK AMK!! Keep the game rolling along, and the endless clues coming.
When I was a boy, I spoke as a boy and thought as a boy, only not entirely, as poor Fat Clyde was a boy many other times, and kept it to himself after coming to realize that all the peeps around him mocked and jeered him for making that ridiculous claim. Still, as a man, and each time that he was, he knows this fact as well, and still knows that he remains endlessly trapped in a place or really a situation, given a nasty name by human beings, HELL. This is it Denny Cuzzfake, you are totally on the $$$$$. I never doubted you for a second, old pal.
Many terrible things happened to poor Fat Clyde, or really, to tiny-skinny Clyde, back when it all began, and when this poor pathetic little shit-bastard, was way too happy to see, or begin to realize any of it; yet the 'LOOP' was always there, all the time, all the times; and forever explaining, what otherwise had absolutely nothing but dead ends, and blocked roads, and no rational answers, not ever.
Between the year 1969 and the year 2011, forty-two years of stuff happened to poor Clyde, who never meant to cause one bit of harm or ill will towards a single soul. Clyde totally knows the entire religion system of this world is phony, fake, and a total lie. The reason is that the laws of reap and sow do not apply to him, nor do the biblical claims that nothing beyond the reality of the human civilization is possible to ever happen to anyone. If two, not one, but TWO powerful things from scripture, are total lies in the life of Fat Clyde, for 42+ years of time now, then the entire mother fucking deal is one huge ass balloon hoax.
By the way, poor Clyde took a major computer hacking, AND NEARLY CRASHED AND DIED WHILE ATTEMPTING TO POST HIS FINAL BLOG UNSDER THE OTHER FALSE NAMES, as this is now the fictional blog of Fat Clyde. All other shit belongs to poor Mark Wayne Mountainpen, and his deluded sick mind, poor fellow, sheeeeeeeeeeit.
Fat Clyde needs to remind some of his wonderful Zack-Close-Friends, and others, that they sure are touchy. Sometimes poor Fat Clyde is asking simple questions of folks, and gets slammed for it, making him then wonder why innocent peeps would be so angry. In fact, some of his Zack-pals made some excellent points, and if said calm and nice without shouting like kids in sandboxes do, he found the rebuts very enlightening, and all though good old Fat Clyde may not totally agree with all that may have been said, some of it was just what he wanted to hear, a good presentation was made when it was brought to Clyde's attention that it can cost a lot more than even 50 grand, for a really professional upgraded production of raw material. This was a point well hit home, but why so much hate and anger had to be there, well, this is the situation that all though Clyde has no answer for in total truth, it has always plagued poor Fat Clyde. In any event, here is a list of the assets of Fat Clyde, so the lawyers can seize them upon winning a court case, for what the life of him, Clyde has no idea what he is being sued for, and a friend-lawyer here in the place where Fat Clyde resides, who read the text that made the plaintiff so angry; which was a blog posted by old Fat Clyde, and who will represent him when papers are filed; said to Clyde this afternoon, and I quote, “What is all this, some joke?” Still, he laughed, and we then went over to a fast food joint and chowed down abnd had a good laugh over it. Still, the assets of Clyde will be listed so that the plaintiff can know what will be received upon winning. I know for a fact that nobody including the Internal Revenue Service, can take away your bed, several pairs of clothes over your back, and food in your kitchen. As for what else is there, well, plaintiff will receive a used 12 inch television worth perhaps 30 bucks, a used keyboard, also worth about same, a dining room table and 3 chairs, along with two lamps, and including the light-bulbs, might total up to another 80 bucks, it is all old and used, and purchased a year ago or so from the great Salvation Army. I know that any Social Security Disability Benefits are exempt, not from the IRS, but then, this is a private person. Clyde also owes another 21 payments on his 2004 Dodge Neon automobile, and with its age and 83,000 mileage; I doubt it has positive value, when $240.00 payments are all multiplied up. If it was taken from me, I of course would refuse to make any further payments. In addition, Fat Clyde can prove legally, that his income from working for the AARP, as well as the SSD monthly checks, totaling no more than 1400 monthly dollars, is exactly the amount of money needed for his survival, with his rent and his other obligations; as well as only a $16.00 monthly food stamp allowance, and a share-cost medicare/medicaid amount, leaving him to pay lots of medical bills for what was done to poor Fat Clyde in 1983, to his lymph glands; and when I subpena certain peeps to testify about it all, most likely due to major complex Kennedy connections, and NASA secrets, the entire thing will be ordered to disappear anyway, but in any event, GOOD LUCK, PAL, and Clyde will gladly honor your command, it was you who called him, just in case your memory is in need of a slight jolt, me' ol' Zack-Friend-Close. Still, this brings this entire blog to a wonderful new dimension. Poor Fat Clyde sees now that his ol' part' really feels that all things said and done, he is fully resolved, and has done no wrong at all, none whatsoever, and you know what, Clyde believes him 100%. Now then, look at what I have accused others of, and yet eternal silence remains. Thank you great sir, for making old Clyde here, come to see a really powerful thing here today, after he reviewed his messages on voice-mail. If anything, you have done old Clyde a really gigantic favor, so if that was not your intention, did you screw it up for yourself. Anyway, thank you, and after this paragraph changes, you, the company, all of it, will never be mentioned in another one of Clyde's Blogs. If you still want to sue poor Clyde, that is entirely your own business. He is clueless to exactly what he wrote, that you could sue him over, but wow; maybe he is about to find out. But if you wanna' call it even-Steven, that is your call. Maybe you know about the sea charts, hey, don't be a fool. They will go to my daughter, and I cannot be forced to do anything with them in my lifetime, not by the biggest federal judge in America; as it would be not only cost prohibitive, but owner rights would need to be changed, as far as this Treasure Coast. The area has all ready been claimed, as I learned by coming down here. So this is worthless paper, and if you force my hand, I will just memorize the positions, and do a Bob McGuire match on the chart.
Ann, thank you for being there, and being my friend, when the world turns on me and hangs me up with nails through me, you at least are there. One loyal friend is all any man ever needs, as Donna reminds me so often, that no man is an island, and she is correct.
I love you IRENE, go up there and knock some heads for me, sweetie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YO. Just swing carefully around my friend Ann. Her evil daughter is gone now, but she did her damage. I did not have enough hell and troubles until she came along, did I folks? It seems that only more mother fucking bullshit is added to me on a year to year steady basis, nothing bad is ever taken away from me, merely, more mother fucking shit is added onto my back, to further weigh down my all ready monstrous unfathomable load. Yeah, first there was nothing, you knew what you were talking about Tupperware Cara, with lots of help from Mutt and Jeff, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well peeps, since this assault on me is beyond relentless and verbal diction times ten to power ten thousand, let me answer back with this little bit of fucking shit. I do not know what “THEY” have done to your song or to your soul, Melanie, but I do know that dangerous Sleep-Walkers abound. Not all movers are SW, and not all SW are movers, and southwest has nothing to do with this. First, there are many types of hypnotic trances, many types of sleep-walkers, and only one Russ Walker, of THE PERMISSION BARRIER book from the year of 1994. There was a strange thing that happened thousands of years ago, that directly connects Atlantic City, New Jersey, and this would be when the lovely wife of Abraham, did not trust Jehovah to give her a son. This has implications that stretch far far beyond any divinity school in this time period, but not beyond a secret told to my Aunt Geraldine Snow now dearly departed as humans might word it, not Doctor Hayward in Pine Valley of course, as he knows better, Right Agnes Photo 10-SC?My cousin Donald Powell did not say this in so many words, but the last time we chowed down together in a restaurant in the Roxborough section of Philadelphia where he resided at the time and maybe still does, he told me that for my own good, I better stop poking around with the “Atlantic City thing”, quote, mother fucking end of fucking quote, YO!!!! I haven't begun to poke around, and you can make the entire world threaten me all you want. I have been wronged by lots of pricks, and if I am destined to get my day in a court of law, well, lotsa shit's coming out.
As for more discussion on PHASE-4, reality and non-reality, interactions on the physical hyperspace planes verses the one single Astral Plane, and much more, will all be told in brand new ways, with brand new keys, in the following blogs. I have had it with intimidation's, theft of my belongings, theft of my soul, and being owned by the Lennyfarian Crew of 1980. Excuse old Fat Clyde if he doesn't just roll over and die, peeps, I have been worked and played by mother fucking experts, so water board on, President Bush and Ambulance Patients who reside in parallel universes where great highways run from Washington, DC, all the way into Vineland, New Jersey, and so much more. You all don't think I've got your numbers? What a fatal mistake, scowl face Trump, as if I give a shit, huh Mister Winn?????????
Starting with SJ-0222, both Sally and Clyde, will be saying something, lots of something's, oh great hoarse Billy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chemtrails and lymph glands, gimme' a bweak Elmer Asshole Fwudd, WHAAAAAAAA!!!
END OF BLOG, YO.
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0220
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0220
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2011
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“THIS AIN'T TERRY EGGHEADS' BLOG”
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Thursday and Friday, I did not leave my building residence. Local bullshit applies. Media hype also applies. We all try and earn some kind of a living, so I am not here sitting on judgment seats, in fact, I could totally care less what anybody does, that is until it crosses into my face, where as McCoy says so well, is where your fist must stop. When I was a young dude, both growing up as well as in my early adulthood; and well before all the PC or Political Correctness movement began and grew with roots that were made of compressed steroids; so much was different that trying to discuss it all rationally right now on a blog would be a quintessential exercise in futility. This problem or situation has an upside potential, and many of you know what it is, since I can talk a big tune and curse out the world, but am quite mousy in person, and it is noticed quickly, especially by bully type personality folks. Still, I commend the cunning-ness and total cleverness, in a major PC environment, of my vulgar putrid and crude enemies everywhere, to indeed hatch a plan in these times, and carry it off with unfathomable success and precision, taking my entire life away from me, AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE THE JERK OFF, THE FOOL, THE BAD GUY, AND THE SIKE-CASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Congratulations, and if I could offer the DICKHEAD OF THE MILLENNIUM AWARD, to these nice wonderful awesome cock sucking trash, I WOULD. You can believe that, if you ever believed any other dog shit thing in your lives, folks. Doing so much horror to me for no real good reason, and then making me look and appear like the heavy, the evil motive man, or the Callio Stalker of the early New-Age, and other things, proves to me that there are reasons for 110 pound girls, to indeed possess the physical strength of Hercules. I totally know that living along with all of us, are many un-real peeps, or maybe as Mister Data, artificial peeps, or to throw in a greater one still, other unknown peeps. I told the Chief of the Atlantic City Beach Patrol in September of 1997, that no one knows the future, and he smiled at me as though, HE DID, and never said a word, maybe because he all ready knew that what he just had told me would indeed happen, as well as his becoming the future mayor of Atlantic City. Maybe if he had wanted to give me a tape of a song that he had written, it would have begun before the music started to play, with a muffled word of 'MAYOR'. This indeed, is how 'MOVERS' do operate. They are all over the place. They have marked up library books in every county in this nation, and much more, they are trying to tell things, but unlike me, more cleverly, and more 'subtly', as Scylla might very well decide to word and say it. Just how real a lot of bull fucking shit really is around me, I am quite positive that I will never know, with or without any copyrighted precious girls, or infected chemtrail nodes. Still, can all of what I recently thought that I cracked open, be no more than a cosmic detective-program, solving the piece fittings? After-all, if chaos abounds, and things by themselves go from order to chaos and ruination, then a balance of this effect is necessary in order to compensate and keeping the entire cosmic from ultimately spinning out of control and into oblivion, or back intro it would be a more MORIANITY fitting way of presenting the argument folks. Our entire planetary biosphere runs on automatic, so why not some type of built in ultimate decaying into chaos compensation system, perhaps abbreviated and said why not some type of a (UDICCS)? 'U-DICKS' out here in cyber-reality may wanna' pronounce it just like that.
I will tell you some shit that is not one bit automatic, Crooked peeps on WALL STREET. They conspire to run prices up and down every day, they gun for stop-loss protection orders, they illegally manipulate the prices, they steal our hard earned money, and they are fully licensed by a totally crooked federal agency called the SEC. This stands for the SECURITIES and EXCHANGE COMMISSION. What good is a stop-loss order, when they know it is there, and so they gap the price up or down by a large amount that only permits the smaller investors from exiting their positions at the next tick of this illegally created gap. These are no different than the illegally created parallel-events that they use on folks as another huge monstrous weapon-tool. Their markets flew up by 5 or more percent this week. If I am so wrong and confused, tell me this, anybody. HOW CAN AMERICA BE DOWN-GRADED IN INTERNATIONAL CREDIT RATING OR ABILITY TO BORROW AT LOWEST INTEREST, and not have the stock market drop to either of the two previous levels, the 2010 low of around 8800 points, or the 2009 low of around 6550 points? If a downgrade in credit, an event more unusual than HURRICAN IRENE, and way more far reaching and devastation to the future of this country, THEN WHY IS THE MARKET NOT FOLLOWING THE REALITY, nor matching the negative point values, reached when we still had a TRIPLE-A+ CREDIT RATING, YO????????????????Powerful peeps and families have many powerful methods that protect them in numerous ways, from ever being recognized for committing the thefts and frauds of all of us on such a daily and continuous basis. Let me move along and stay on the same topic, while proving this point.
I went down to a town that was just to the south of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in the middle late part of June, in the year of 1970, Florida Lottery scrambling the middle digits up and my death as Franklin, notwithstanding; and thought I was going to be a Plumbers' Assistant. The so-called plumber being none other than child molester Thomas J. Reale. This mother fucker got away with molesting me twice, and I departed this nightmare at the age of 15 and a half years, on the night of 12 July, in 1970, at around 10:30 at night, leaving on the local bus out of town, single suit case in hand, on the Public Bus Terminal bus, that went through the local area of Main Street in Plesantville, where the great girl gang of the Callio branch of TWAF was also on this bus, and all around me flirting with me, calling me “THAT-BOY”, giggling, and only one of these girls hated me, which one I do not know. I had a bad sun burn, and she said to her friend, regarding me, “His face is all messed up”, and it totally was, it was burned and sore, and indeed looked as hideous as the Frankenstein monster. My point here, is not on my sunburn, this mighty girl gang known then and there as the New Jersey Quoddy-Mockers, because they hung around the boardwalk and Saint James Place store called the Quoddy Moccasins, or public bus rides, or final vacation days at famous seashore resorts. It is however about TOM, the semi-fagot child lover. Where is the New York City SVU when I am the mother fucking victim? Up in the future passing judgment on me and calling me “THE BAD GUY”, that's where. If you roll over in your grave, DAVE, be careful of Paula King, and your lovely NINA. To this day, Tom Reale, never made it onto the Megan Law List, or any other child offense list to my knowledge. So why did he just do this horrible fucking shit to me, and no other child? According the great LAW AND ORDER TEKLELVISION SHOW, these kind of sick mother fuckers are repeat offenders, so WHY ONLY ME, WORLD? Millions of Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities are popping into my head, I wanna' know if they are popping in any of yours?
New readers need to understand some very powerful shit about my story. It is real and honest, and totally heart wrenching,m that is if you happen to be human, and have a conscience or a heart to start with, as if not, you will be one of the many who daily puke on me, and tell me I am nothing but a ton of worthless fucking dog shit, and to go to fucking ass hell. Ann told me not to let them win by killing myself. What she is incapable of understanding is, that I cannot kill myself, I have tried, and so has the enemy,. To get rid of me, on many many many many fucking ass occasions. All I do is wake up, and it all was just a nightmare dream, as if whatever had killed me was in a dream, and now I am in a similar reality, with the one distinct difference being that the act that caused my death, never happened in this new parallel reality. Yeah, sounds like a fish tale the size of Moby Dick, but the problem is that some fish tales are totally fucking true, as are mine. Two other monumental ones took place on exact days, and spread apart by precisely 10-YEARS, 1986 and 1996. IF I LIE, I HOPE TO BURN IN OIL FOR A QUADRILLIOIN MOTHER FUCKING EONS. The magic date in both cases is the 2nd of August. The first one involved meeting a very special wonderful teenager, when I was unfortunately nearly 32 years old, in the great city of NYNY. This chance encounter led me to write a meaningless song a couple of days later, sending it along with some other songs, as a package musical project, down to the United State3s Office of the Copyrights, Library of the Congress, on the 15th, 13 days later. The song was an unflattering and totally mean song. It was heartless and cruel, but I had no idea that this person would go onto to graduate high school, and soon afterward, become the greatest voice in the entire music world. What am I, GOD? 'MOVERS' set it all up, they are GOD, not me. Now for the day ten years later, August second in 1996. My mother and I went to a diner in Egg Harbor, New Jersey. A very attractive waitress took our order, and when she brought over some drinking water, she blurted out something that almost made my poor mother wretch. She said to me, “You know don't you, there's a contract on your life”. I told her I have no idea what she is talking about. I had just written a song shortly before this, back on the 12th day of fucking May, called, “SARAH”, a name that seems to be connected with the lives of many songwriters, and sung by many well known recording artists. I wish to shit peeps, that I still had my old website in operation; www.morianity-foundation.com/ as some of my music, including this song, was up there on that site. I know thaty some of you out here have been up on that site. The entire distant future has, but that is easy for them to do, using a tool that exists there, or will exist, called, DIDE LINK. The link into our internet is possible using fields that take advantage of distance, and can thereby tune back through time. These same fields can be energized with reverse-polarity atoms, but we will not go here. Those that have any idea about any of this, know also about the invention in 1987 that was openly published in the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN MAGAZINE. This was the article that showed how a MOVER was back in 1987, with his small velocitronic motor system. Using this, a room the size of the average home kitchen, can be made up of a unit that could produce close to 100 TW of electricity. This is a forbidden subject, and only collectors of magazines can ever get to check this out, it is doubtful to me that you will find this fucking information anyplace on the entire internet.
There have been two major recent incidents, in Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG; over at the www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ job-site, where I am employed; through the AARP system, as a Store Stocker. Sheriffs and police and even a US Marshall showed up on the most recent incident. The MOVERS, as I have told my BLOGAUD on many blogs earlier this year in the spring time, played a very rotten game with me, and brought the state WORKFORCE PROGRAM into our HFOC place. These peeps are not, how does one say such a thing in 2011, someone who might get along all that well on Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York. I am speaking of nothing other than character and behavior, and in no way nationality or skin hues. Still, am I making this story up, is this another fish-tale of the Mountainpen? All anyone has to do to disprove me is to get copies of public information of local criminal reports, this would most likely be listed under the charge of assault. I believe both incidents involved one girl beating up another girl. Yes Paul, Fort Pierce is not all that nice a place for me to be living and working in, and especially, after making my escape from 'THAT-FAMILY', and my kidnapping by Dawn-Marie, the great KING of the JERSEY CLAN, well, along with distant cuzz MCGUIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Both Dawn and McGuire would think nothing of throwing a can of gasoline on someone, and then throw a lit book of matches on them afterward. Do I really deserve all of this, just tell me what I ave ever done to anyone, to mother fucking deserve all this fucking hell, and on top of that, I have lost every mother fucking thing I had. I may not have had a lot, but it all was taken away from me, when no one would help me and ? I was forced to mother fucking run away on the night of December the 12th in 2009. So if any fucking bastards out here that tells me how real the biblical reap and sow deal has, needs to be told not to ever fucking this shit to me. I have spent my entire ass life trying to be a nice guy, and for my trouble, this is my life, all this shit, a small compressed bit of it is told on these blogs of more than 6 fucking years, at the first and original website of www.blogger.com/, the blogs of mountainpen.
As for proving the supernatural claims of these 6+ years of wild and outlandishly esoteric blog text, wait for the great U-TUBE post on my account, eventually, of my first 1997 passport photo, then my next one in 2007, and then my 2009 photo from the Harvest Foods website, it doesn't match, and not even Donald Trump or Tyra Banks has access to enough make up to pull this mother fucking shit all off, and I totally know it, and am ready to expose this nightmare PAULA KING SHIT TO THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS PLANET. I sound angry as if there is an agenda or that this is personal, and you all have me all wrong. I need to prove shit that cannot be proven in any other way or by any other method than major shock value, so I'll use it. It is not personal against anyone. I have said it before and will obviously say it a lot more, I am in a war that I have no memory of ever starting, and I only know one thing for sure, and that is that if I do not fight these whatever they are entities, then on that day that I cave in and quit, I AM DEAD. Both my mother and David Roth stopped fighting CALLIOTAMM, and they DIED, and this is WHY THEY FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!! You quit fighting, or breathing, and you will die, simple truth, simple physics, with or without television advertising or any bodies resting or moving, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Before I let the details out on a huge deal involving the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, let me finish up with the second part of these two dates that were exactly freaking ten years apart in the illusion of space-time. A waitress in Egg Harbor told me that somebody wants to kill me, and would not be any more specific than that, other than my 1994-Saturn Automobile was involved. I originally believed this wild cock and bull story that someone in the projects of this area was angry at someone who ratted out the local top drug dealer, and this person drove the same dark colored and 4-door Saturn that I drove, and that this somehow was perhaps as the great disco diva would put it, a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. I did not buy Donna's bull shit, and I don't buy this Egg Harbor shit either, as it all ties together, and connects characters from what else, but the great SATANIC ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, or (EW)!!!!!!!! Continuing along with the events of the hot summer day in early August in 1996, this is when my mother and I drove west intro Hammonton, and were accosted by a gang of young Mexican-American girls, at a recording studio parking lot, that would not stop messing with me, and would not let my car out, as they blocked the way and thought it was funny, and then when we did finally exit, we drove to Turnersville, and began noticing that somebody in a lime green truck was tailing us, and this was that evil monster huge man who looked like he was from India according to my mother, as I never saw his face, and he told my mother and I quote, “I am going to kill your son, and you too if you don't get away from this truck”. My mom went over to it, only because we both noticed that it had indeed been stalking and tailing us, and parked when we did; and was staring over at us. He had killed our new car somehow, as when I shut it off and then tried restarting the vehicle, it was totally dead, AND FOR NO GOOD LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. The police came and were no help at all, intentionally writing the police report backwards, stating that it was I, who approached the man in this truck, and not the other way around. There was a very good reason for doing this, and they were all fucking to0tally in on it. Even the Prosecutor of two counties refused to assist us, and left us hanging out to dry, after this terrorist threat was made to her. Those 'raised right black boys, huh Mercedes not said from 10-SC Avenue', Senator Thompson?????????????????????? Let us get some tiny positive out of this miserable mother fucking nightmare day of monster-ass interactions from peeps straight out of DOGTOWN, whoever they are, I CALL THEM MOVERS and also the MILLIONTH-XCOUNCIL, still many other initials that match are part of a lot of this, and dates do not lie, it is too freaking coincidental, and we all know it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not blame the great PAULA for everything in my life, only for about 99% give or take a little. If anyone on this planet does not like this, well, bit me. As I said this, I got the tiny mini font attack, that I got a lot in the short time, right before my horrendous “2008” “family-kidnapping” experience. We will stop for right now regarding the night,are and totally FISH-TALE seemingly unfathomable story of the MAGICAL NON-COINCIDENTAL WAY TOO PERFECTLY TIMED DOUBLE-DATES, OF 08/02/86----08/02/96. This is a real mind bending situation, for me anyway, I had to fucking live through all this fucking ass hell. You all have the nice luxury of being entertained with this tale, and all though I know it is true, and all of the ASTRAL-PLANE GODS know that it is true, you are all saying, and I will quote it, “OH, HMMMMM, that story telling Mountainpen, WOW”.
I was not supposed to tell about this, SSJK said not to, oh boy. Before I get into it, FIRE ALARMS GO OFF IN THIS BUILDING every single day, sometimes only for a minute and then stop; so I know that there is more to this bullshit than I currently have information about. Anythi8ng these twisted fucking bastards from HELL can do to me to make that dirt bag STOCK MARKET endlessly go UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP; THEY WILL QUITE OBVIOUSLY KEEP DOING, AS THIS ALL BEGAN ON 08/15/1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never ever stops, am I correct, AGENT FALCON, AND AGENT CONDOR, YO?????????????????????? Now before Madonna closes my glandular funny funny curtains, 28 years ago, lymph nodes and MOVERS and tapes all notwithstanding, let me address a powerful deal that I know I did in fact tell and blog back around 2006 and 2007, about a dude by the name of Marty Kravitz. I thought this man wanted to cause me trouble for no good reason, and now, see the great Paula King, as the player behind this one as well, STANLEY, and am I steamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One day after I told him I would not be working in his meat market any longer, so that I could work as a plumbers' assistant for Tom Reale, in the summer time in 1970, he started a rumor, that I had lost my mind, and was freaking out, and mad up all kinds of wild stuff, for no apparent reason, after all, he could very easily replace me with any one of a hundred other boys at his market, that could do the job as well as I could. I was told this on the very same day that I was told that I was not imagining the student teacher by the name of Miss Zenkiss, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the Bancroft School on Kings Highway, named after the great King George Himself of England, who my ancestors went to war with. Strange things were indeed happening to me in 1970, it was quite continuous and perhaps almost unrelenting. The year opened up after all, with the great soap show of New York, Channel-7-ABC Network, called “DARK SHADOWS”, with their LEVIATHAN CULT, and Paul Stoddard, and the great PAYMENT DUE date, my birthday. The big story can be saved for another blog, it is late and I need to eat and crash, so let me merely tell the highlights. Maybe I did lose my mind, and do all the things that this old boss said that I did, old Marty Kravitz, of Westmont, New Jersey. I have no memory of it, but ?I have little memory of other things also, in some cases, none at all./ I did not recall the 1968 trip up to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, Long Island, New York, until right around the time that I wrote the blog titled, “Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”, in February of 2009, and yes, on KARGE-DAY, the good old 18th. There is no chance that any of this is a coincidence, if it is and I am wrong, then I beg either my daughter, or the other person, to tell me so, otherwise, why go on sending me so many mixed signals? Still, Paula King may have blocked out of my mind, some of the mother fucking bullshit that indeed Marty the butcher claims that I did back in the latter days of the year of 1970. How do I know my mom did not find out about the reason why a world famous song was playing called, “UNDER THE BOARDWALK”, and tell me, and we all went crazy, and ALONG CAME CLUELESS PAULA, NOT MISSING ME, and no copyrighted little yellow sheets of 2008 paper, but just her powerful IAD-ETTOS MIND CONTROL tactics and paranormal somnambulist abilities, of hyper-dimensional travel, power, and control.
Well right now, I do not know who thanks me or does not thank me, be it my mother or my father, or anyone else, or theirs, for that matter, Mister Cohen, or any other Hollywood, Cali resident for that matter. I tell true stuff, I have no reason to sit here in the middle of the night, spewing out a million lies, or deluded ideas. I know the power of playing with the 5th dimension, as well as the power that Paula has, and uses. I was there when I lost my BOB, and my chain, and now I am here in hot miserable Florida, with nothing left, all was lost, and these pricks sit up there in the north laughing at me. Well, one of these mother fucking days, I will get my laugh on mother fucking all of you. SSJK told me not to tell how we were together in HER GREAT CITY, back on Monday in the human world, or said better, when SHE allowed me to begin the Monday Dream, with some memories from the Astral-Plane, regarding this event or interaction is a better term, that I will now impart to this world. She was singing 'Love Is For Carpenters', HER greatest song, to me, while we were in the great Celestial Palace of Kanwal Avenue, in SDK, on the Province Olympia, and SHE told me that she would allow me to take the memory of the true melody, back with e into the waking and mortal world. When she did, I awoke with this memory, and was late for work, as I needed to play it into my keyboard memory, as I sure do not trust my memory all that much. I have been playing this all week long, using headphones. Since this transdimensional tune has been electronically stored into a memory system, it has similar results as if it were recorded onto studio systems, and tapes or CD's were made. Sorry about any inconvenience that this may have caused the mortal world, or am I. Why should I be sorry for enemies. Why should I care or do any favors for them either, Quentin Petofi Collins of Autumn 1969????????????????????????????
Sorry I failed the test Sarah-Stacey, and told the Marty stuff, but you all ready knew that I would when you told me, in fact to quote your wonderful mother, Jewelly; your top VIQUEEN on the AP; you guys all knew this for 50 million years. WOW, what a wild clan of awesome and suigenerous proportions.
TERMINATION OF TRANSMISSION:
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2011
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“THIS AIN'T TERRY EGGHEADS' BLOG”
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Thursday and Friday, I did not leave my building residence. Local bullshit applies. Media hype also applies. We all try and earn some kind of a living, so I am not here sitting on judgment seats, in fact, I could totally care less what anybody does, that is until it crosses into my face, where as McCoy says so well, is where your fist must stop. When I was a young dude, both growing up as well as in my early adulthood; and well before all the PC or Political Correctness movement began and grew with roots that were made of compressed steroids; so much was different that trying to discuss it all rationally right now on a blog would be a quintessential exercise in futility. This problem or situation has an upside potential, and many of you know what it is, since I can talk a big tune and curse out the world, but am quite mousy in person, and it is noticed quickly, especially by bully type personality folks. Still, I commend the cunning-ness and total cleverness, in a major PC environment, of my vulgar putrid and crude enemies everywhere, to indeed hatch a plan in these times, and carry it off with unfathomable success and precision, taking my entire life away from me, AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE THE JERK OFF, THE FOOL, THE BAD GUY, AND THE SIKE-CASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Congratulations, and if I could offer the DICKHEAD OF THE MILLENNIUM AWARD, to these nice wonderful awesome cock sucking trash, I WOULD. You can believe that, if you ever believed any other dog shit thing in your lives, folks. Doing so much horror to me for no real good reason, and then making me look and appear like the heavy, the evil motive man, or the Callio Stalker of the early New-Age, and other things, proves to me that there are reasons for 110 pound girls, to indeed possess the physical strength of Hercules. I totally know that living along with all of us, are many un-real peeps, or maybe as Mister Data, artificial peeps, or to throw in a greater one still, other unknown peeps. I told the Chief of the Atlantic City Beach Patrol in September of 1997, that no one knows the future, and he smiled at me as though, HE DID, and never said a word, maybe because he all ready knew that what he just had told me would indeed happen, as well as his becoming the future mayor of Atlantic City. Maybe if he had wanted to give me a tape of a song that he had written, it would have begun before the music started to play, with a muffled word of 'MAYOR'. This indeed, is how 'MOVERS' do operate. They are all over the place. They have marked up library books in every county in this nation, and much more, they are trying to tell things, but unlike me, more cleverly, and more 'subtly', as Scylla might very well decide to word and say it. Just how real a lot of bull fucking shit really is around me, I am quite positive that I will never know, with or without any copyrighted precious girls, or infected chemtrail nodes. Still, can all of what I recently thought that I cracked open, be no more than a cosmic detective-program, solving the piece fittings? After-all, if chaos abounds, and things by themselves go from order to chaos and ruination, then a balance of this effect is necessary in order to compensate and keeping the entire cosmic from ultimately spinning out of control and into oblivion, or back intro it would be a more MORIANITY fitting way of presenting the argument folks. Our entire planetary biosphere runs on automatic, so why not some type of built in ultimate decaying into chaos compensation system, perhaps abbreviated and said why not some type of a (UDICCS)? 'U-DICKS' out here in cyber-reality may wanna' pronounce it just like that.
I will tell you some shit that is not one bit automatic, Crooked peeps on WALL STREET. They conspire to run prices up and down every day, they gun for stop-loss protection orders, they illegally manipulate the prices, they steal our hard earned money, and they are fully licensed by a totally crooked federal agency called the SEC. This stands for the SECURITIES and EXCHANGE COMMISSION. What good is a stop-loss order, when they know it is there, and so they gap the price up or down by a large amount that only permits the smaller investors from exiting their positions at the next tick of this illegally created gap. These are no different than the illegally created parallel-events that they use on folks as another huge monstrous weapon-tool. Their markets flew up by 5 or more percent this week. If I am so wrong and confused, tell me this, anybody. HOW CAN AMERICA BE DOWN-GRADED IN INTERNATIONAL CREDIT RATING OR ABILITY TO BORROW AT LOWEST INTEREST, and not have the stock market drop to either of the two previous levels, the 2010 low of around 8800 points, or the 2009 low of around 6550 points? If a downgrade in credit, an event more unusual than HURRICAN IRENE, and way more far reaching and devastation to the future of this country, THEN WHY IS THE MARKET NOT FOLLOWING THE REALITY, nor matching the negative point values, reached when we still had a TRIPLE-A+ CREDIT RATING, YO????????????????Powerful peeps and families have many powerful methods that protect them in numerous ways, from ever being recognized for committing the thefts and frauds of all of us on such a daily and continuous basis. Let me move along and stay on the same topic, while proving this point.
I went down to a town that was just to the south of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in the middle late part of June, in the year of 1970, Florida Lottery scrambling the middle digits up and my death as Franklin, notwithstanding; and thought I was going to be a Plumbers' Assistant. The so-called plumber being none other than child molester Thomas J. Reale. This mother fucker got away with molesting me twice, and I departed this nightmare at the age of 15 and a half years, on the night of 12 July, in 1970, at around 10:30 at night, leaving on the local bus out of town, single suit case in hand, on the Public Bus Terminal bus, that went through the local area of Main Street in Plesantville, where the great girl gang of the Callio branch of TWAF was also on this bus, and all around me flirting with me, calling me “THAT-BOY”, giggling, and only one of these girls hated me, which one I do not know. I had a bad sun burn, and she said to her friend, regarding me, “His face is all messed up”, and it totally was, it was burned and sore, and indeed looked as hideous as the Frankenstein monster. My point here, is not on my sunburn, this mighty girl gang known then and there as the New Jersey Quoddy-Mockers, because they hung around the boardwalk and Saint James Place store called the Quoddy Moccasins, or public bus rides, or final vacation days at famous seashore resorts. It is however about TOM, the semi-fagot child lover. Where is the New York City SVU when I am the mother fucking victim? Up in the future passing judgment on me and calling me “THE BAD GUY”, that's where. If you roll over in your grave, DAVE, be careful of Paula King, and your lovely NINA. To this day, Tom Reale, never made it onto the Megan Law List, or any other child offense list to my knowledge. So why did he just do this horrible fucking shit to me, and no other child? According the great LAW AND ORDER TEKLELVISION SHOW, these kind of sick mother fuckers are repeat offenders, so WHY ONLY ME, WORLD? Millions of Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities are popping into my head, I wanna' know if they are popping in any of yours?
New readers need to understand some very powerful shit about my story. It is real and honest, and totally heart wrenching,m that is if you happen to be human, and have a conscience or a heart to start with, as if not, you will be one of the many who daily puke on me, and tell me I am nothing but a ton of worthless fucking dog shit, and to go to fucking ass hell. Ann told me not to let them win by killing myself. What she is incapable of understanding is, that I cannot kill myself, I have tried, and so has the enemy,. To get rid of me, on many many many many fucking ass occasions. All I do is wake up, and it all was just a nightmare dream, as if whatever had killed me was in a dream, and now I am in a similar reality, with the one distinct difference being that the act that caused my death, never happened in this new parallel reality. Yeah, sounds like a fish tale the size of Moby Dick, but the problem is that some fish tales are totally fucking true, as are mine. Two other monumental ones took place on exact days, and spread apart by precisely 10-YEARS, 1986 and 1996. IF I LIE, I HOPE TO BURN IN OIL FOR A QUADRILLIOIN MOTHER FUCKING EONS. The magic date in both cases is the 2nd of August. The first one involved meeting a very special wonderful teenager, when I was unfortunately nearly 32 years old, in the great city of NYNY. This chance encounter led me to write a meaningless song a couple of days later, sending it along with some other songs, as a package musical project, down to the United State3s Office of the Copyrights, Library of the Congress, on the 15th, 13 days later. The song was an unflattering and totally mean song. It was heartless and cruel, but I had no idea that this person would go onto to graduate high school, and soon afterward, become the greatest voice in the entire music world. What am I, GOD? 'MOVERS' set it all up, they are GOD, not me. Now for the day ten years later, August second in 1996. My mother and I went to a diner in Egg Harbor, New Jersey. A very attractive waitress took our order, and when she brought over some drinking water, she blurted out something that almost made my poor mother wretch. She said to me, “You know don't you, there's a contract on your life”. I told her I have no idea what she is talking about. I had just written a song shortly before this, back on the 12th day of fucking May, called, “SARAH”, a name that seems to be connected with the lives of many songwriters, and sung by many well known recording artists. I wish to shit peeps, that I still had my old website in operation; www.morianity-foundation.com/ as some of my music, including this song, was up there on that site. I know thaty some of you out here have been up on that site. The entire distant future has, but that is easy for them to do, using a tool that exists there, or will exist, called, DIDE LINK. The link into our internet is possible using fields that take advantage of distance, and can thereby tune back through time. These same fields can be energized with reverse-polarity atoms, but we will not go here. Those that have any idea about any of this, know also about the invention in 1987 that was openly published in the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN MAGAZINE. This was the article that showed how a MOVER was back in 1987, with his small velocitronic motor system. Using this, a room the size of the average home kitchen, can be made up of a unit that could produce close to 100 TW of electricity. This is a forbidden subject, and only collectors of magazines can ever get to check this out, it is doubtful to me that you will find this fucking information anyplace on the entire internet.
There have been two major recent incidents, in Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG; over at the www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ job-site, where I am employed; through the AARP system, as a Store Stocker. Sheriffs and police and even a US Marshall showed up on the most recent incident. The MOVERS, as I have told my BLOGAUD on many blogs earlier this year in the spring time, played a very rotten game with me, and brought the state WORKFORCE PROGRAM into our HFOC place. These peeps are not, how does one say such a thing in 2011, someone who might get along all that well on Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York. I am speaking of nothing other than character and behavior, and in no way nationality or skin hues. Still, am I making this story up, is this another fish-tale of the Mountainpen? All anyone has to do to disprove me is to get copies of public information of local criminal reports, this would most likely be listed under the charge of assault. I believe both incidents involved one girl beating up another girl. Yes Paul, Fort Pierce is not all that nice a place for me to be living and working in, and especially, after making my escape from 'THAT-FAMILY', and my kidnapping by Dawn-Marie, the great KING of the JERSEY CLAN, well, along with distant cuzz MCGUIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Both Dawn and McGuire would think nothing of throwing a can of gasoline on someone, and then throw a lit book of matches on them afterward. Do I really deserve all of this, just tell me what I ave ever done to anyone, to mother fucking deserve all this fucking hell, and on top of that, I have lost every mother fucking thing I had. I may not have had a lot, but it all was taken away from me, when no one would help me and ? I was forced to mother fucking run away on the night of December the 12th in 2009. So if any fucking bastards out here that tells me how real the biblical reap and sow deal has, needs to be told not to ever fucking this shit to me. I have spent my entire ass life trying to be a nice guy, and for my trouble, this is my life, all this shit, a small compressed bit of it is told on these blogs of more than 6 fucking years, at the first and original website of www.blogger.com/, the blogs of mountainpen.
As for proving the supernatural claims of these 6+ years of wild and outlandishly esoteric blog text, wait for the great U-TUBE post on my account, eventually, of my first 1997 passport photo, then my next one in 2007, and then my 2009 photo from the Harvest Foods website, it doesn't match, and not even Donald Trump or Tyra Banks has access to enough make up to pull this mother fucking shit all off, and I totally know it, and am ready to expose this nightmare PAULA KING SHIT TO THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS PLANET. I sound angry as if there is an agenda or that this is personal, and you all have me all wrong. I need to prove shit that cannot be proven in any other way or by any other method than major shock value, so I'll use it. It is not personal against anyone. I have said it before and will obviously say it a lot more, I am in a war that I have no memory of ever starting, and I only know one thing for sure, and that is that if I do not fight these whatever they are entities, then on that day that I cave in and quit, I AM DEAD. Both my mother and David Roth stopped fighting CALLIOTAMM, and they DIED, and this is WHY THEY FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!! You quit fighting, or breathing, and you will die, simple truth, simple physics, with or without television advertising or any bodies resting or moving, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Before I let the details out on a huge deal involving the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, let me finish up with the second part of these two dates that were exactly freaking ten years apart in the illusion of space-time. A waitress in Egg Harbor told me that somebody wants to kill me, and would not be any more specific than that, other than my 1994-Saturn Automobile was involved. I originally believed this wild cock and bull story that someone in the projects of this area was angry at someone who ratted out the local top drug dealer, and this person drove the same dark colored and 4-door Saturn that I drove, and that this somehow was perhaps as the great disco diva would put it, a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. I did not buy Donna's bull shit, and I don't buy this Egg Harbor shit either, as it all ties together, and connects characters from what else, but the great SATANIC ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, or (EW)!!!!!!!! Continuing along with the events of the hot summer day in early August in 1996, this is when my mother and I drove west intro Hammonton, and were accosted by a gang of young Mexican-American girls, at a recording studio parking lot, that would not stop messing with me, and would not let my car out, as they blocked the way and thought it was funny, and then when we did finally exit, we drove to Turnersville, and began noticing that somebody in a lime green truck was tailing us, and this was that evil monster huge man who looked like he was from India according to my mother, as I never saw his face, and he told my mother and I quote, “I am going to kill your son, and you too if you don't get away from this truck”. My mom went over to it, only because we both noticed that it had indeed been stalking and tailing us, and parked when we did; and was staring over at us. He had killed our new car somehow, as when I shut it off and then tried restarting the vehicle, it was totally dead, AND FOR NO GOOD LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. The police came and were no help at all, intentionally writing the police report backwards, stating that it was I, who approached the man in this truck, and not the other way around. There was a very good reason for doing this, and they were all fucking to0tally in on it. Even the Prosecutor of two counties refused to assist us, and left us hanging out to dry, after this terrorist threat was made to her. Those 'raised right black boys, huh Mercedes not said from 10-SC Avenue', Senator Thompson?????????????????????? Let us get some tiny positive out of this miserable mother fucking nightmare day of monster-ass interactions from peeps straight out of DOGTOWN, whoever they are, I CALL THEM MOVERS and also the MILLIONTH-XCOUNCIL, still many other initials that match are part of a lot of this, and dates do not lie, it is too freaking coincidental, and we all know it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not blame the great PAULA for everything in my life, only for about 99% give or take a little. If anyone on this planet does not like this, well, bit me. As I said this, I got the tiny mini font attack, that I got a lot in the short time, right before my horrendous “2008” “family-kidnapping” experience. We will stop for right now regarding the night,are and totally FISH-TALE seemingly unfathomable story of the MAGICAL NON-COINCIDENTAL WAY TOO PERFECTLY TIMED DOUBLE-DATES, OF 08/02/86----08/02/96. This is a real mind bending situation, for me anyway, I had to fucking live through all this fucking ass hell. You all have the nice luxury of being entertained with this tale, and all though I know it is true, and all of the ASTRAL-PLANE GODS know that it is true, you are all saying, and I will quote it, “OH, HMMMMM, that story telling Mountainpen, WOW”.
I was not supposed to tell about this, SSJK said not to, oh boy. Before I get into it, FIRE ALARMS GO OFF IN THIS BUILDING every single day, sometimes only for a minute and then stop; so I know that there is more to this bullshit than I currently have information about. Anythi8ng these twisted fucking bastards from HELL can do to me to make that dirt bag STOCK MARKET endlessly go UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP; THEY WILL QUITE OBVIOUSLY KEEP DOING, AS THIS ALL BEGAN ON 08/15/1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never ever stops, am I correct, AGENT FALCON, AND AGENT CONDOR, YO?????????????????????? Now before Madonna closes my glandular funny funny curtains, 28 years ago, lymph nodes and MOVERS and tapes all notwithstanding, let me address a powerful deal that I know I did in fact tell and blog back around 2006 and 2007, about a dude by the name of Marty Kravitz. I thought this man wanted to cause me trouble for no good reason, and now, see the great Paula King, as the player behind this one as well, STANLEY, and am I steamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One day after I told him I would not be working in his meat market any longer, so that I could work as a plumbers' assistant for Tom Reale, in the summer time in 1970, he started a rumor, that I had lost my mind, and was freaking out, and mad up all kinds of wild stuff, for no apparent reason, after all, he could very easily replace me with any one of a hundred other boys at his market, that could do the job as well as I could. I was told this on the very same day that I was told that I was not imagining the student teacher by the name of Miss Zenkiss, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the Bancroft School on Kings Highway, named after the great King George Himself of England, who my ancestors went to war with. Strange things were indeed happening to me in 1970, it was quite continuous and perhaps almost unrelenting. The year opened up after all, with the great soap show of New York, Channel-7-ABC Network, called “DARK SHADOWS”, with their LEVIATHAN CULT, and Paul Stoddard, and the great PAYMENT DUE date, my birthday. The big story can be saved for another blog, it is late and I need to eat and crash, so let me merely tell the highlights. Maybe I did lose my mind, and do all the things that this old boss said that I did, old Marty Kravitz, of Westmont, New Jersey. I have no memory of it, but ?I have little memory of other things also, in some cases, none at all./ I did not recall the 1968 trip up to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, Long Island, New York, until right around the time that I wrote the blog titled, “Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”, in February of 2009, and yes, on KARGE-DAY, the good old 18th. There is no chance that any of this is a coincidence, if it is and I am wrong, then I beg either my daughter, or the other person, to tell me so, otherwise, why go on sending me so many mixed signals? Still, Paula King may have blocked out of my mind, some of the mother fucking bullshit that indeed Marty the butcher claims that I did back in the latter days of the year of 1970. How do I know my mom did not find out about the reason why a world famous song was playing called, “UNDER THE BOARDWALK”, and tell me, and we all went crazy, and ALONG CAME CLUELESS PAULA, NOT MISSING ME, and no copyrighted little yellow sheets of 2008 paper, but just her powerful IAD-ETTOS MIND CONTROL tactics and paranormal somnambulist abilities, of hyper-dimensional travel, power, and control.
Well right now, I do not know who thanks me or does not thank me, be it my mother or my father, or anyone else, or theirs, for that matter, Mister Cohen, or any other Hollywood, Cali resident for that matter. I tell true stuff, I have no reason to sit here in the middle of the night, spewing out a million lies, or deluded ideas. I know the power of playing with the 5th dimension, as well as the power that Paula has, and uses. I was there when I lost my BOB, and my chain, and now I am here in hot miserable Florida, with nothing left, all was lost, and these pricks sit up there in the north laughing at me. Well, one of these mother fucking days, I will get my laugh on mother fucking all of you. SSJK told me not to tell how we were together in HER GREAT CITY, back on Monday in the human world, or said better, when SHE allowed me to begin the Monday Dream, with some memories from the Astral-Plane, regarding this event or interaction is a better term, that I will now impart to this world. She was singing 'Love Is For Carpenters', HER greatest song, to me, while we were in the great Celestial Palace of Kanwal Avenue, in SDK, on the Province Olympia, and SHE told me that she would allow me to take the memory of the true melody, back with e into the waking and mortal world. When she did, I awoke with this memory, and was late for work, as I needed to play it into my keyboard memory, as I sure do not trust my memory all that much. I have been playing this all week long, using headphones. Since this transdimensional tune has been electronically stored into a memory system, it has similar results as if it were recorded onto studio systems, and tapes or CD's were made. Sorry about any inconvenience that this may have caused the mortal world, or am I. Why should I be sorry for enemies. Why should I care or do any favors for them either, Quentin Petofi Collins of Autumn 1969????????????????????????????
Sorry I failed the test Sarah-Stacey, and told the Marty stuff, but you all ready knew that I would when you told me, in fact to quote your wonderful mother, Jewelly; your top VIQUEEN on the AP; you guys all knew this for 50 million years. WOW, what a wild clan of awesome and suigenerous proportions.
TERMINATION OF TRANSMISSION:
Friday, August 26, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0220
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0220
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2011
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“THIS AIN'T TERRY EGGHEADS' BLOG”
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Thursday and Friday, I did not leave my building residence. Local bullshit applies. Media hype also applies. We all try and earn some kind of a living, so I am not here sitting on judgment seats, in fact, I could totally care less what anybody does, that is until it crosses into my face, where as McCoy says so well, is where your fist must stop. When I was a young dude, both growing up as well as in my early adulthood; and well before all the PC or Political Correctness movement began and grew with roots that were made of compressed steroids; so much was different that trying to discuss it all rationally right now on a blog would be a quintessential exercise in futility. This problem or situation has an upside potential, and many of you know what it is, since I can talk a big tune and curse out the world, but am quite mousy in person, and it is noticed quickly, especially by bully type personality folks. Still, I commend the cunning-ness and total cleverness, in a major PC environment, of my vulgar putrid and crude enemies everywhere, to indeed hatch a plan in these times, and carry it off with unfathomable success and precision, taking my entire life away from me, AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE THE JERK OFF, THE FOOL, THE BAD GUY, AND THE SIKE-CASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Congratulations, and if I could offer the DICKHEAD OF THE MILLENNIUM AWARD, to these nice wonderful awesome cock sucking trash, I WOULD. You can believe that, if you ever believed any other dog shit thing in your lives, folks. Doing so much horror to me for no real good reason, and then making me look and appear like the heavy, the evil motive man, or the Callio Stalker of the early New-Age, and other things, proves to me that there are reasons for 110 pound girls, to indeed possess the physical strength of Hercules. I totally know that living along with all of us, are many un-real peeps, or maybe as Mister Data, artificial peeps, or to throw in a greater one still, other unknown peeps. I told the Chief of the Atlantic City Beach Patrol in September of 1997, that no one knows the future, and he smiled at me as though, HE DID, and never said a word, maybe because he all ready knew that what he just had told me would indeed happen, as well as his becoming the future mayor of Atlantic City. Maybe if he had wanted to give me a tape of a song that he had written, it would have begun before the music started to play, with a muffled word of 'MAYOR'. This indeed, is how 'MOVERS' do operate. They are all over the place. They have marked up library books in every county in this nation, and much more, they are trying to tell things, but unlike me, more cleverly, and more 'subtly', as Scylla might very well decide to word and say it. Just how real a lot of bull fucking shit really is around me, I am quite positive that I will never know, with or without any copyrighted precious girls, or infected chemtrail nodes. Still, can all of what I recently thought that I cracked open, be no more than a cosmic detective-program, solving the piece fittings? After-all, if chaos abounds, and things by themselves go from order to chaos and ruination, then a balance of this effect is necessary in order to compensate and keeping the entire cosmic from ultimately spinning out of control and into oblivion, or back intro it would be a more MORIANITY fitting way of presenting the argument folks. Our entire planetary biosphere runs on automatic, so why not some type of built in ultimate decaying into chaos compensation system, perhaps abbreviated and said why not some type of a (UDICCS)? 'U-DICKS' out here in cyber-reality may wanna' pronounce it just like that.
I will tell you some shit that is not one bit automatic, Crooked peeps on WALL STREET. They conspire to run prices up and down every day, they gun for stop-loss protection orders, they illegally manipulate the prices, they steal our hard earned money, and they are fully licensed by a totally crooked federal agency called the SEC. This stands for the SECURITIES and EXCHANGE COMMISSION. What good is a stop-loss order, when they know it is there, and so they gap the price up or down by a large amount that only permits the smaller investors from exiting their positions at the next tick of this illegally created gap. These are no different than the illegally created parallel-events that they use on folks as another huge monstrous weapon-tool. Their markets flew up by 5 or more percent this week. If I am so wrong and confused, tell me this, anybody. HOW CAN AMERICA BE DOWN-GRADED IN INTERNATIONAL CREDIT RATING OR ABILITY TO BORROW AT LOWEST INTEREST, and not have the stock market drop to either of the two previous levels, the 2010 low of around 8800 points, or the 2009 low of around 6550 points? If a downgrade in credit, an event more unusual than HURRICAN IRENE, and way more far reaching and devastation to the future of this country, THEN WHY IS THE MARKET NOT FOLLOWING THE REALITY, nor matching the negative point values, reached when we still had a TRIPLE-A+ CREDIT RATING, YO????????????????Powerful peeps and families have many powerful methods that protect them in numerous ways, from ever being recognized for committing the thefts and frauds of all of us on such a daily and continuous basis. Let me move along and stay on the same topic, while proving this point.
I went down to a town that was just to the south of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in the middle late part of June, in the year of 1970, Florida Lottery scrambling the middle digits up and my death as Franklin, notwithstanding; and thought I was going to be a Plumbers' Assistant. The so-called plumber being none other than child molester Thomas J. Reale. This mother fucker got away with molesting me twice, and I departed this nightmare at the age of 15 and a half years, on the night of 12 July, in 1970, at around 10:30 at night, leaving on the local bus out of town, single suit case in hand, on the Public Bus Terminal bus, that went through the local area of Main Street in Plesantville, where the great girl gang of the Callio branch of TWAF was also on this bus, and all around me flirting with me, calling me “THAT-BOY”, giggling, and only one of these girls hated me, which one I do not know. I had a bad sun burn, and she said to her friend, regarding me, “His face is all messed up”, and it totally was, it was burned and sore, and indeed looked as hideous as the Frankenstein monster. My point here, is not on my sunburn, this mighty girl gang known then and there as the New Jersey Quoddy-Mockers, because they hung around the boardwalk and Saint James Place store called the Quoddy Moccasins, or public bus rides, or final vacation days at famous seashore resorts. It is however about TOM, the semi-fagot child lover. Where is the New York City SVU when I am the mother fucking victim? Up in the future passing judgment on me and calling me “THE BAD GUY”, that's where. If you roll over in your grave, DAVE, be careful of Paula King, and your lovely NINA. To this day, Tom Reale, never made it onto the Megan Law List, or any other child offense list to my knowledge. So why did he just do this horrible fucking shit to me, and no other child? According the great LAW AND ORDER TEKLELVISION SHOW, these kind of sick mother fuckers are repeat offenders, so WHY ONLY ME, WORLD? Millions of Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities are popping into my head, I wanna' know if they are popping in any of yours?
New readers need to understand some very powerful shit about my story. It is real and honest, and totally heart wrenching,m that is if you happen to be human, and have a conscience or a heart to start with, as if not, you will be one of the many who daily puke on me, and tell me I am nothing but a ton of worthless fucking dog shit, and to go to fucking ass hell. Ann told me not to let them win by killing myself. What she is incapable of understanding is, that I cannot kill myself, I have tried, and so has the enemy,. To get rid of me, on many many many many fucking ass occasions. All I do is wake up, and it all was just a nightmare dream, as if whatever had killed me was in a dream, and now I am in a similar reality, with the one distinct difference being that the act that caused my death, never happened in this new parallel reality. Yeah, sounds like a fish tale the size of Moby Dick, but the problem is that some fish tales are totally fucking true, as are mine. Two other monumental ones took place on exact days, and spread apart by precisely 10-YEARS, 1986 and 1996. IF I LIE, I HOPE TO BURN IN OIL FOR A QUADRILLIOIN MOTHER FUCKING EONS. The magic date in both cases is the 2nd of August. The first one involved meeting a very special wonderful teenager, when I was unfortunately nearly 32 years old, in the great city of NYNY. This chance encounter led me to write a meaningless song a couple of days later, sending it along with some other songs, as a package musical project, down to the United State3s Office of the Copyrights, Library of the Congress, on the 15th, 13 days later. The song was an unflattering and totally mean song. It was heartless and cruel, but I had no idea that this person would go onto to graduate high school, and soon afterward, become the greatest voice in the entire music world. What am I, GOD? 'MOVERS' set it all up, they are GOD, not me. Now for the day ten years later, August second in 1996. My mother and I went to a diner in Egg Harbor, New Jersey. A very attractive waitress took our order, and when she brought over some drinking water, she blurted out something that almost made my poor mother wretch. She said to me, “You know don't you, there's a contract on your life”. I told her I have no idea what she is talking about. I had just written a song shortly before this, back on the 12th day of fucking May, called, “SARAH”, a name that seems to be connected with the lives of many songwriters, and sung by many well known recording artists. I wish to shit peeps, that I still had my old website in operation; www.morianity-foundation.com/ as some of my music, including this song, was up there on that site. I know thaty some of you out here have been up on that site. The entire distant future has, but that is easy for them to do, using a tool that exists there, or will exist, called, DIDE LINK. The link into our internet is possible using fields that take advantage of distance, and can thereby tune back through time. These same fields can be energized with reverse-polarity atoms, but we will not go here. Those that have any idea about any of this, know also about the invention in 1987 that was openly published in the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN MAGAZINE. This was the article that showed how a MOVER was back in 1987, with his small velocitronic motor system. Using this, a room the size of the average home kitchen, can be made up of a unit that could produce close to 100 TW of electricity. This is a forbidden subject, and only collectors of magazines can ever get to check this out, it is doubtful to me that you will find this fucking information anyplace on the entire internet.
There have been two major recent incidents, in Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG; over at the www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ job-site, where I am employed; through the AARP system, as a Store Stocker. Sheriffs and police and even a US Marshall showed up on the most recent incident. The MOVERS, as I have told my BLOGAUD on many blogs earlier this year in the spring time, played a very rotten game with me, and brought the state WORKFORCE PROGRAM into our HFOC place. These peeps are not, how does one say such a thing in 2011, someone who might get along all that well on Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York. I am speaking of nothing other than character and behavior, and in no way nationality or skin hues. Still, am I making this story up, is this another fish-tale of the Mountainpen? All anyone has to do to disprove me is to get copies of public information of local criminal reports, this would most likely be listed under the charge of assault. I believe both incidents involved one girl beating up another girl. Yes Paul, Fort Pierce is not all that nice a place for me to be living and working in, and especially, after making my escape from 'THAT-FAMILY', and my kidnapping by Dawn-Marie, the great KING of the JERSEY CLAN, well, along with distant cuzz MCGUIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Both Dawn and McGuire would think nothing of throwing a can of gasoline on someone, and then throw a lit book of matches on them afterward. Do I really deserve all of this, just tell me what I ave ever done to anyone, to mother fucking deserve all this fucking hell, and on top of that, I have lost every mother fucking thing I had. I may not have had a lot, but it all was taken away from me, when no one would help me and ? I was forced to mother fucking run away on the night of December the 12th in 2009. So if any fucking bastards out here that tells me how real the biblical reap and sow deal has, needs to be told not to ever fucking this shit to me. I have spent my entire ass life trying to be a nice guy, and for my trouble, this is my life, all this shit, a small compressed bit of it is told on these blogs of more than 6 fucking years, at the first and original website of www.blogger.com/, the blogs of mountainpen.
As for proving the supernatural claims of these 6+ years of wild and outlandishly esoteric blog text, wait for the great U-TUBE post on my account, eventually, of my first 1997 passport photo, then my next one in 2007, and then my 2009 photo from the Harvest Foods website, it doesn't match, and not even Donald Trump or Tyra Banks has access to enough make up to pull this mother fucking shit all off, and I totally know it, and am ready to expose this nightmare PAULA KING SHIT TO THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS PLANET. I sound angry as if there is an agenda or that this is personal, and you all have me all wrong. I need to prove shit that cannot be proven in any other way or by any other method than major shock value, so I'll use it. It is not personal against anyone. I have said it before and will obviously say it a lot more, I am in a war that I have no memory of ever starting, and I only know one thing for sure, and that is that if I do not fight these whatever they are entities, then on that day that I cave in and quit, I AM DEAD. Both my mother and David Roth stopped fighting CALLIOTAMM, and they DIED, and this is WHY THEY FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!! You quit fighting, or breathing, and you will die, simple truth, simple physics, with or without television advertising or any bodies resting or moving, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Before I let the details out on a huge deal involving the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, let me finish up with the second part of these two dates that were exactly freaking ten years apart in the illusion of space-time. A waitress in Egg Harbor told me that somebody wants to kill me, and would not be any more specific than that, other than my 1994-Saturn Automobile was involved. I originally believed this wild cock and bull story that someone in the projects of this area was angry at someone who ratted out the local top drug dealer, and this person drove the same dark colored and 4-door Saturn that I drove, and that this somehow was perhaps as the great disco diva would put it, a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. I did not buy Donna's bull shit, and I don't buy this Egg Harbor shit either, as it all ties together, and connects characters from what else, but the great SATANIC ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, or (EW)!!!!!!!! Continuing along with the events of the hot summer day in early August in 1996, this is when my mother and I drove west intro Hammonton, and were accosted by a gang of young Mexican-American girls, at a recording studio parking lot, that would not stop messing with me, and would not let my car out, as they blocked the way and thought it was funny, and then when we did finally exit, we drove to Turnersville, and began noticing that somebody in a lime green truck was tailing us, and this was that evil monster huge man who looked like he was from India according to my mother, as I never saw his face, and he told my mother and I quote, “I am going to kill your son, and you too if you don't get away from this truck”. My mom went over to it, only because we both noticed that it had indeed been stalking and tailing us, and parked when we did; and was staring over at us. He had killed our new car somehow, as when I shut it off and then tried restarting the vehicle, it was totally dead, AND FOR NO GOOD LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. The police came and were no help at all, intentionally writing the police report backwards, stating that it was I, who approached the man in this truck, and not the other way around. There was a very good reason for doing this, and they were all fucking to0tally in on it. Even the Prosecutor of two counties refused to assist us, and left us hanging out to dry, after this terrorist threat was made to her. Those 'raised right black boys, huh Mercedes not said from 10-SC Avenue', Senator Thompson?????????????????????? Let us get some tiny positive out of this miserable mother fucking nightmare day of monster-ass interactions from peeps straight out of DOGTOWN, whoever they are, I CALL THEM MOVERS and also the MILLIONTH-XCOUNCIL, still many other initials that match are part of a lot of this, and dates do not lie, it is too freaking coincidental, and we all know it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not blame the great PAULA for everything in my life, only for about 99% give or take a little. If anyone on this planet does not like this, well, bit me. As I said this, I got the tiny mini font attack, that I got a lot in the short time, right before my horrendous “2008” “family-kidnapping” experience. We will stop for right now regarding the night,are and totally FISH-TALE seemingly unfathomable story of the MAGICAL NON-COINCIDENTAL WAY TOO PERFECTLY TIMED DOUBLE-DATES, OF 08/02/86----08/02/96. This is a real mind bending situation, for me anyway, I had to fucking live through all this fucking ass hell. You all have the nice luxury of being entertained with this tale, and all though I know it is true, and all of the ASTRAL-PLANE GODS know that it is true, you are all saying, and I will quote it, “OH, HMMMMM, that story telling Mountainpen, WOW”.
I was not supposed to tell about this, SSJK said not to, oh boy. Before I get into it, FIRE ALARMS GO OFF IN THIS BUILDING every single day, sometimes only for a minute and then stop; so I know that there is more to this bullshit than I currently have information about. Anythi8ng these twisted fucking bastards from HELL can do to me to make that dirt bag STOCK MARKET endlessly go UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP; THEY WILL QUITE OBVIOUSLY KEEP DOING, AS THIS ALL BEGAN ON 08/15/1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never ever stops, am I correct, AGENT FALCON, AND AGENT CONDOR, YO?????????????????????? Now before Madonna closes my glandular funny funny curtains, 28 years ago, lymph nodes and MOVERS and tapes all notwithstanding, let me address a powerful deal that I know I did in fact tell and blog back around 2006 and 2007, about a dude by the name of Marty Kravitz. I thought this man wanted to cause me trouble for no good reason, and now, see the great Paula King, as the player behind this one as well, STANLEY, and am I steamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One day after I told him I would not be working in his meat market any longer, so that I could work as a plumbers' assistant for Tom Reale, in the summer time in 1970, he started a rumor, that I had lost my mind, and was freaking out, and mad up all kinds of wild stuff, for no apparent reason, after all, he could very easily replace me with any one of a hundred other boys at his market, that could do the job as well as I could. I was told this on the very same day that I was told that I was not imagining the student teacher by the name of Miss Zenkiss, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the Bancroft School on Kings Highway, named after the great King George Himself of England, who my ancestors went to war with. Strange things were indeed happening to me in 1970, it was quite continuous and perhaps almost unrelenting. The year opened up after all, with the great soap show of New York, Channel-7-ABC Network, called “DARK SHADOWS”, with their LEVIATHAN CULT, and Paul Stoddard, and the great PAYMENT DUE date, my birthday. The big story can be saved for another blog, it is late and I need to eat and crash, so let me merely tell the highlights. Maybe I did lose my mind, and do all the things that this old boss said that I did, old Marty Kravitz, of Westmont, New Jersey. I have no memory of it, but ?I have little memory of other things also, in some cases, none at all./ I did not recall the 1968 trip up to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, Long Island, New York, until right around the time that I wrote the blog titled, “Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”, in February of 2009, and yes, on KARGE-DAY, the good old 18th. There is no chance that any of this is a coincidence, if it is and I am wrong, then I beg either my daughter, or the other person, to tell me so, otherwise, why go on sending me so many mixed signals? Still, Paula King may have blocked out of my mind, some of the mother fucking bullshit that indeed Marty the butcher claims that I did back in the latter days of the year of 1970. How do I know my mom did not find out about the reason why a world famous song was playing called, “UNDER THE BOARDWALK”, and tell me, and we all went crazy, and ALONG CAME CLUELESS PAULA, NOT MISSING ME, and no copyrighted little yellow sheets of 2008 paper, but just her powerful IAD-ETTOS MIND CONTROL tactics and paranormal somnambulist abilities, of hyper-dimensional travel, power, and control.
Well right now, I do not know who thanks me or does not thank me, be it my mother or my father, or anyone else, or theirs, for that matter, Mister Cohen, or any other Hollywood, Cali resident for that matter. I tell true stuff, I have no reason to sit here in the middle of the night, spewing out a million lies, or deluded ideas. I know the power of playing with the 5th dimension, as well as the power that Paula has, and uses. I was there when I lost my BOB, and my chain, and now I am here in hot miserable Florida, with nothing left, all was lost, and these pricks sit up there in the north laughing at me. Well, one of these mother fucking days, I will get my laugh on mother fucking all of you. SSJK told me not to tell how we were together in HER GREAT CITY, back on Monday in the human world, or said better, when SHE allowed me to begin the Monday Dream, with some memories from the Astral-Plane, regarding this event or interaction is a better term, that I will now impart to this world. She was singing 'Love Is For Carpenters', HER greatest song, to me, while we were in the great Celestial Palace of Kanwal Avenue, in SDK, on the Province Olympia, and SHE told me that she would allow me to take the memory of the true melody, back with e into the waking and mortal world. When she did, I awoke with this memory, and was late for work, as I needed to play it into my keyboard memory, as I sure do not trust my memory all that much. I have been playing this all week long, using headphones. Since this transdimensional tune has been electronically stored into a memory system, it has similar results as if it were recorded onto studio systems, and tapes or CD's were made. Sorry about any inconvenience that this may have caused the mortal world, or am I. Why should I be sorry for enemies. Why should I care or do any favors for them either, Quentin Petofi Collins of Autumn 1969????????????????????????????
Sorry I failed the test Sarah-Stacey, and told the Marty stuff, but you all ready knew that I would when you told me, in fact to quote your wonderful mother, Jewelly; your top VIQUEEN on the AP; you guys all knew this for 50 million years. WOW, what a wild clan of awesome and suigenerous proportions.
TERMINATION OF TRANSMISSION:
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2011
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“THIS AIN'T TERRY EGGHEADS' BLOG”
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Thursday and Friday, I did not leave my building residence. Local bullshit applies. Media hype also applies. We all try and earn some kind of a living, so I am not here sitting on judgment seats, in fact, I could totally care less what anybody does, that is until it crosses into my face, where as McCoy says so well, is where your fist must stop. When I was a young dude, both growing up as well as in my early adulthood; and well before all the PC or Political Correctness movement began and grew with roots that were made of compressed steroids; so much was different that trying to discuss it all rationally right now on a blog would be a quintessential exercise in futility. This problem or situation has an upside potential, and many of you know what it is, since I can talk a big tune and curse out the world, but am quite mousy in person, and it is noticed quickly, especially by bully type personality folks. Still, I commend the cunning-ness and total cleverness, in a major PC environment, of my vulgar putrid and crude enemies everywhere, to indeed hatch a plan in these times, and carry it off with unfathomable success and precision, taking my entire life away from me, AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE THE JERK OFF, THE FOOL, THE BAD GUY, AND THE SIKE-CASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Congratulations, and if I could offer the DICKHEAD OF THE MILLENNIUM AWARD, to these nice wonderful awesome cock sucking trash, I WOULD. You can believe that, if you ever believed any other dog shit thing in your lives, folks. Doing so much horror to me for no real good reason, and then making me look and appear like the heavy, the evil motive man, or the Callio Stalker of the early New-Age, and other things, proves to me that there are reasons for 110 pound girls, to indeed possess the physical strength of Hercules. I totally know that living along with all of us, are many un-real peeps, or maybe as Mister Data, artificial peeps, or to throw in a greater one still, other unknown peeps. I told the Chief of the Atlantic City Beach Patrol in September of 1997, that no one knows the future, and he smiled at me as though, HE DID, and never said a word, maybe because he all ready knew that what he just had told me would indeed happen, as well as his becoming the future mayor of Atlantic City. Maybe if he had wanted to give me a tape of a song that he had written, it would have begun before the music started to play, with a muffled word of 'MAYOR'. This indeed, is how 'MOVERS' do operate. They are all over the place. They have marked up library books in every county in this nation, and much more, they are trying to tell things, but unlike me, more cleverly, and more 'subtly', as Scylla might very well decide to word and say it. Just how real a lot of bull fucking shit really is around me, I am quite positive that I will never know, with or without any copyrighted precious girls, or infected chemtrail nodes. Still, can all of what I recently thought that I cracked open, be no more than a cosmic detective-program, solving the piece fittings? After-all, if chaos abounds, and things by themselves go from order to chaos and ruination, then a balance of this effect is necessary in order to compensate and keeping the entire cosmic from ultimately spinning out of control and into oblivion, or back intro it would be a more MORIANITY fitting way of presenting the argument folks. Our entire planetary biosphere runs on automatic, so why not some type of built in ultimate decaying into chaos compensation system, perhaps abbreviated and said why not some type of a (UDICCS)? 'U-DICKS' out here in cyber-reality may wanna' pronounce it just like that.
I will tell you some shit that is not one bit automatic, Crooked peeps on WALL STREET. They conspire to run prices up and down every day, they gun for stop-loss protection orders, they illegally manipulate the prices, they steal our hard earned money, and they are fully licensed by a totally crooked federal agency called the SEC. This stands for the SECURITIES and EXCHANGE COMMISSION. What good is a stop-loss order, when they know it is there, and so they gap the price up or down by a large amount that only permits the smaller investors from exiting their positions at the next tick of this illegally created gap. These are no different than the illegally created parallel-events that they use on folks as another huge monstrous weapon-tool. Their markets flew up by 5 or more percent this week. If I am so wrong and confused, tell me this, anybody. HOW CAN AMERICA BE DOWN-GRADED IN INTERNATIONAL CREDIT RATING OR ABILITY TO BORROW AT LOWEST INTEREST, and not have the stock market drop to either of the two previous levels, the 2010 low of around 8800 points, or the 2009 low of around 6550 points? If a downgrade in credit, an event more unusual than HURRICAN IRENE, and way more far reaching and devastation to the future of this country, THEN WHY IS THE MARKET NOT FOLLOWING THE REALITY, nor matching the negative point values, reached when we still had a TRIPLE-A+ CREDIT RATING, YO????????????????Powerful peeps and families have many powerful methods that protect them in numerous ways, from ever being recognized for committing the thefts and frauds of all of us on such a daily and continuous basis. Let me move along and stay on the same topic, while proving this point.
I went down to a town that was just to the south of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, in the middle late part of June, in the year of 1970, Florida Lottery scrambling the middle digits up and my death as Franklin, notwithstanding; and thought I was going to be a Plumbers' Assistant. The so-called plumber being none other than child molester Thomas J. Reale. This mother fucker got away with molesting me twice, and I departed this nightmare at the age of 15 and a half years, on the night of 12 July, in 1970, at around 10:30 at night, leaving on the local bus out of town, single suit case in hand, on the Public Bus Terminal bus, that went through the local area of Main Street in Plesantville, where the great girl gang of the Callio branch of TWAF was also on this bus, and all around me flirting with me, calling me “THAT-BOY”, giggling, and only one of these girls hated me, which one I do not know. I had a bad sun burn, and she said to her friend, regarding me, “His face is all messed up”, and it totally was, it was burned and sore, and indeed looked as hideous as the Frankenstein monster. My point here, is not on my sunburn, this mighty girl gang known then and there as the New Jersey Quoddy-Mockers, because they hung around the boardwalk and Saint James Place store called the Quoddy Moccasins, or public bus rides, or final vacation days at famous seashore resorts. It is however about TOM, the semi-fagot child lover. Where is the New York City SVU when I am the mother fucking victim? Up in the future passing judgment on me and calling me “THE BAD GUY”, that's where. If you roll over in your grave, DAVE, be careful of Paula King, and your lovely NINA. To this day, Tom Reale, never made it onto the Megan Law List, or any other child offense list to my knowledge. So why did he just do this horrible fucking shit to me, and no other child? According the great LAW AND ORDER TEKLELVISION SHOW, these kind of sick mother fuckers are repeat offenders, so WHY ONLY ME, WORLD? Millions of Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities are popping into my head, I wanna' know if they are popping in any of yours?
New readers need to understand some very powerful shit about my story. It is real and honest, and totally heart wrenching,m that is if you happen to be human, and have a conscience or a heart to start with, as if not, you will be one of the many who daily puke on me, and tell me I am nothing but a ton of worthless fucking dog shit, and to go to fucking ass hell. Ann told me not to let them win by killing myself. What she is incapable of understanding is, that I cannot kill myself, I have tried, and so has the enemy,. To get rid of me, on many many many many fucking ass occasions. All I do is wake up, and it all was just a nightmare dream, as if whatever had killed me was in a dream, and now I am in a similar reality, with the one distinct difference being that the act that caused my death, never happened in this new parallel reality. Yeah, sounds like a fish tale the size of Moby Dick, but the problem is that some fish tales are totally fucking true, as are mine. Two other monumental ones took place on exact days, and spread apart by precisely 10-YEARS, 1986 and 1996. IF I LIE, I HOPE TO BURN IN OIL FOR A QUADRILLIOIN MOTHER FUCKING EONS. The magic date in both cases is the 2nd of August. The first one involved meeting a very special wonderful teenager, when I was unfortunately nearly 32 years old, in the great city of NYNY. This chance encounter led me to write a meaningless song a couple of days later, sending it along with some other songs, as a package musical project, down to the United State3s Office of the Copyrights, Library of the Congress, on the 15th, 13 days later. The song was an unflattering and totally mean song. It was heartless and cruel, but I had no idea that this person would go onto to graduate high school, and soon afterward, become the greatest voice in the entire music world. What am I, GOD? 'MOVERS' set it all up, they are GOD, not me. Now for the day ten years later, August second in 1996. My mother and I went to a diner in Egg Harbor, New Jersey. A very attractive waitress took our order, and when she brought over some drinking water, she blurted out something that almost made my poor mother wretch. She said to me, “You know don't you, there's a contract on your life”. I told her I have no idea what she is talking about. I had just written a song shortly before this, back on the 12th day of fucking May, called, “SARAH”, a name that seems to be connected with the lives of many songwriters, and sung by many well known recording artists. I wish to shit peeps, that I still had my old website in operation; www.morianity-foundation.com/ as some of my music, including this song, was up there on that site. I know thaty some of you out here have been up on that site. The entire distant future has, but that is easy for them to do, using a tool that exists there, or will exist, called, DIDE LINK. The link into our internet is possible using fields that take advantage of distance, and can thereby tune back through time. These same fields can be energized with reverse-polarity atoms, but we will not go here. Those that have any idea about any of this, know also about the invention in 1987 that was openly published in the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN MAGAZINE. This was the article that showed how a MOVER was back in 1987, with his small velocitronic motor system. Using this, a room the size of the average home kitchen, can be made up of a unit that could produce close to 100 TW of electricity. This is a forbidden subject, and only collectors of magazines can ever get to check this out, it is doubtful to me that you will find this fucking information anyplace on the entire internet.
There have been two major recent incidents, in Saint Lucie County, Florida, USAESMWG; over at the www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ job-site, where I am employed; through the AARP system, as a Store Stocker. Sheriffs and police and even a US Marshall showed up on the most recent incident. The MOVERS, as I have told my BLOGAUD on many blogs earlier this year in the spring time, played a very rotten game with me, and brought the state WORKFORCE PROGRAM into our HFOC place. These peeps are not, how does one say such a thing in 2011, someone who might get along all that well on Peninsula Drive, in Babylon, New York. I am speaking of nothing other than character and behavior, and in no way nationality or skin hues. Still, am I making this story up, is this another fish-tale of the Mountainpen? All anyone has to do to disprove me is to get copies of public information of local criminal reports, this would most likely be listed under the charge of assault. I believe both incidents involved one girl beating up another girl. Yes Paul, Fort Pierce is not all that nice a place for me to be living and working in, and especially, after making my escape from 'THAT-FAMILY', and my kidnapping by Dawn-Marie, the great KING of the JERSEY CLAN, well, along with distant cuzz MCGUIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Both Dawn and McGuire would think nothing of throwing a can of gasoline on someone, and then throw a lit book of matches on them afterward. Do I really deserve all of this, just tell me what I ave ever done to anyone, to mother fucking deserve all this fucking hell, and on top of that, I have lost every mother fucking thing I had. I may not have had a lot, but it all was taken away from me, when no one would help me and ? I was forced to mother fucking run away on the night of December the 12th in 2009. So if any fucking bastards out here that tells me how real the biblical reap and sow deal has, needs to be told not to ever fucking this shit to me. I have spent my entire ass life trying to be a nice guy, and for my trouble, this is my life, all this shit, a small compressed bit of it is told on these blogs of more than 6 fucking years, at the first and original website of www.blogger.com/, the blogs of mountainpen.
As for proving the supernatural claims of these 6+ years of wild and outlandishly esoteric blog text, wait for the great U-TUBE post on my account, eventually, of my first 1997 passport photo, then my next one in 2007, and then my 2009 photo from the Harvest Foods website, it doesn't match, and not even Donald Trump or Tyra Banks has access to enough make up to pull this mother fucking shit all off, and I totally know it, and am ready to expose this nightmare PAULA KING SHIT TO THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS PLANET. I sound angry as if there is an agenda or that this is personal, and you all have me all wrong. I need to prove shit that cannot be proven in any other way or by any other method than major shock value, so I'll use it. It is not personal against anyone. I have said it before and will obviously say it a lot more, I am in a war that I have no memory of ever starting, and I only know one thing for sure, and that is that if I do not fight these whatever they are entities, then on that day that I cave in and quit, I AM DEAD. Both my mother and David Roth stopped fighting CALLIOTAMM, and they DIED, and this is WHY THEY FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!! You quit fighting, or breathing, and you will die, simple truth, simple physics, with or without television advertising or any bodies resting or moving, YO!!!!!!!!!!
Before I let the details out on a huge deal involving the great SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, let me finish up with the second part of these two dates that were exactly freaking ten years apart in the illusion of space-time. A waitress in Egg Harbor told me that somebody wants to kill me, and would not be any more specific than that, other than my 1994-Saturn Automobile was involved. I originally believed this wild cock and bull story that someone in the projects of this area was angry at someone who ratted out the local top drug dealer, and this person drove the same dark colored and 4-door Saturn that I drove, and that this somehow was perhaps as the great disco diva would put it, a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. I did not buy Donna's bull shit, and I don't buy this Egg Harbor shit either, as it all ties together, and connects characters from what else, but the great SATANIC ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, or (EW)!!!!!!!! Continuing along with the events of the hot summer day in early August in 1996, this is when my mother and I drove west intro Hammonton, and were accosted by a gang of young Mexican-American girls, at a recording studio parking lot, that would not stop messing with me, and would not let my car out, as they blocked the way and thought it was funny, and then when we did finally exit, we drove to Turnersville, and began noticing that somebody in a lime green truck was tailing us, and this was that evil monster huge man who looked like he was from India according to my mother, as I never saw his face, and he told my mother and I quote, “I am going to kill your son, and you too if you don't get away from this truck”. My mom went over to it, only because we both noticed that it had indeed been stalking and tailing us, and parked when we did; and was staring over at us. He had killed our new car somehow, as when I shut it off and then tried restarting the vehicle, it was totally dead, AND FOR NO GOOD LOGICAL REASON WHATSOEVER. The police came and were no help at all, intentionally writing the police report backwards, stating that it was I, who approached the man in this truck, and not the other way around. There was a very good reason for doing this, and they were all fucking to0tally in on it. Even the Prosecutor of two counties refused to assist us, and left us hanging out to dry, after this terrorist threat was made to her. Those 'raised right black boys, huh Mercedes not said from 10-SC Avenue', Senator Thompson?????????????????????? Let us get some tiny positive out of this miserable mother fucking nightmare day of monster-ass interactions from peeps straight out of DOGTOWN, whoever they are, I CALL THEM MOVERS and also the MILLIONTH-XCOUNCIL, still many other initials that match are part of a lot of this, and dates do not lie, it is too freaking coincidental, and we all know it, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not blame the great PAULA for everything in my life, only for about 99% give or take a little. If anyone on this planet does not like this, well, bit me. As I said this, I got the tiny mini font attack, that I got a lot in the short time, right before my horrendous “2008” “family-kidnapping” experience. We will stop for right now regarding the night,are and totally FISH-TALE seemingly unfathomable story of the MAGICAL NON-COINCIDENTAL WAY TOO PERFECTLY TIMED DOUBLE-DATES, OF 08/02/86----08/02/96. This is a real mind bending situation, for me anyway, I had to fucking live through all this fucking ass hell. You all have the nice luxury of being entertained with this tale, and all though I know it is true, and all of the ASTRAL-PLANE GODS know that it is true, you are all saying, and I will quote it, “OH, HMMMMM, that story telling Mountainpen, WOW”.
I was not supposed to tell about this, SSJK said not to, oh boy. Before I get into it, FIRE ALARMS GO OFF IN THIS BUILDING every single day, sometimes only for a minute and then stop; so I know that there is more to this bullshit than I currently have information about. Anythi8ng these twisted fucking bastards from HELL can do to me to make that dirt bag STOCK MARKET endlessly go UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP; THEY WILL QUITE OBVIOUSLY KEEP DOING, AS THIS ALL BEGAN ON 08/15/1986!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never ever stops, am I correct, AGENT FALCON, AND AGENT CONDOR, YO?????????????????????? Now before Madonna closes my glandular funny funny curtains, 28 years ago, lymph nodes and MOVERS and tapes all notwithstanding, let me address a powerful deal that I know I did in fact tell and blog back around 2006 and 2007, about a dude by the name of Marty Kravitz. I thought this man wanted to cause me trouble for no good reason, and now, see the great Paula King, as the player behind this one as well, STANLEY, and am I steamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One day after I told him I would not be working in his meat market any longer, so that I could work as a plumbers' assistant for Tom Reale, in the summer time in 1970, he started a rumor, that I had lost my mind, and was freaking out, and mad up all kinds of wild stuff, for no apparent reason, after all, he could very easily replace me with any one of a hundred other boys at his market, that could do the job as well as I could. I was told this on the very same day that I was told that I was not imagining the student teacher by the name of Miss Zenkiss, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at the Bancroft School on Kings Highway, named after the great King George Himself of England, who my ancestors went to war with. Strange things were indeed happening to me in 1970, it was quite continuous and perhaps almost unrelenting. The year opened up after all, with the great soap show of New York, Channel-7-ABC Network, called “DARK SHADOWS”, with their LEVIATHAN CULT, and Paul Stoddard, and the great PAYMENT DUE date, my birthday. The big story can be saved for another blog, it is late and I need to eat and crash, so let me merely tell the highlights. Maybe I did lose my mind, and do all the things that this old boss said that I did, old Marty Kravitz, of Westmont, New Jersey. I have no memory of it, but ?I have little memory of other things also, in some cases, none at all./ I did not recall the 1968 trip up to visit my Aunt Ruth in Babylon, Long Island, New York, until right around the time that I wrote the blog titled, “Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”, in February of 2009, and yes, on KARGE-DAY, the good old 18th. There is no chance that any of this is a coincidence, if it is and I am wrong, then I beg either my daughter, or the other person, to tell me so, otherwise, why go on sending me so many mixed signals? Still, Paula King may have blocked out of my mind, some of the mother fucking bullshit that indeed Marty the butcher claims that I did back in the latter days of the year of 1970. How do I know my mom did not find out about the reason why a world famous song was playing called, “UNDER THE BOARDWALK”, and tell me, and we all went crazy, and ALONG CAME CLUELESS PAULA, NOT MISSING ME, and no copyrighted little yellow sheets of 2008 paper, but just her powerful IAD-ETTOS MIND CONTROL tactics and paranormal somnambulist abilities, of hyper-dimensional travel, power, and control.
Well right now, I do not know who thanks me or does not thank me, be it my mother or my father, or anyone else, or theirs, for that matter, Mister Cohen, or any other Hollywood, Cali resident for that matter. I tell true stuff, I have no reason to sit here in the middle of the night, spewing out a million lies, or deluded ideas. I know the power of playing with the 5th dimension, as well as the power that Paula has, and uses. I was there when I lost my BOB, and my chain, and now I am here in hot miserable Florida, with nothing left, all was lost, and these pricks sit up there in the north laughing at me. Well, one of these mother fucking days, I will get my laugh on mother fucking all of you. SSJK told me not to tell how we were together in HER GREAT CITY, back on Monday in the human world, or said better, when SHE allowed me to begin the Monday Dream, with some memories from the Astral-Plane, regarding this event or interaction is a better term, that I will now impart to this world. She was singing 'Love Is For Carpenters', HER greatest song, to me, while we were in the great Celestial Palace of Kanwal Avenue, in SDK, on the Province Olympia, and SHE told me that she would allow me to take the memory of the true melody, back with e into the waking and mortal world. When she did, I awoke with this memory, and was late for work, as I needed to play it into my keyboard memory, as I sure do not trust my memory all that much. I have been playing this all week long, using headphones. Since this transdimensional tune has been electronically stored into a memory system, it has similar results as if it were recorded onto studio systems, and tapes or CD's were made. Sorry about any inconvenience that this may have caused the mortal world, or am I. Why should I be sorry for enemies. Why should I care or do any favors for them either, Quentin Petofi Collins of Autumn 1969????????????????????????????
Sorry I failed the test Sarah-Stacey, and told the Marty stuff, but you all ready knew that I would when you told me, in fact to quote your wonderful mother, Jewelly; your top VIQUEEN on the AP; you guys all knew this for 50 million years. WOW, what a wild clan of awesome and suigenerous proportions.
TERMINATION OF TRANSMISSION:
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0219
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0219
KING NEBNOOSHOO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“UFO COVER UP CHANNEL 11 DOCUMENTARY OF 1988:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATFILE: CH-0219-082311.845.5555555555555555555
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
We will work into the blogs' 4th subtitle, as what I open up with will lead into it quite well, and then all will combine and merge so wonderfully, trust me peeps. First, this is twice now, on two different and separate nights and at totally different times in the evening, that as soon as I begin to blog, the ancient persecution used against me by my diseased enemies, NOISE, has struck,. I no sooner start, and these fucking ass holes from across the hallway in my building, also start making very large disturbing sounds. I am totally aware of today's huge move in their ICPE cheated crooked manipulated DOW JONES STOCK MARKET. I expected it after huge horrendous attacks, NOISE is the one always used, it is NOISE by air, by neighbors, by anyone anywhere anytime, it is NOISE, and they know I hate a lot of mother fucking noise, who in their “right mind” doesn't? Today, not all that many folks are in their right mind, the entire world has alters so significantly since my childhood, that no words could ever begin to address the story, or hope to give it full dimension, and adequate detail. This using noise to persecute me, along with body and health attacks, property damage, utility persecution, and many other additional things, all work in perfect tandem to create what I term the INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT or 'ICPE', of hurting me and bringing my life forever down and wrecked, so as to keep their evil economy and world and power monger empire forever thriving. This opposite moving parallel event was caused by forces a long time ago, and did not fall into my conscious time world illusion, until I came out of a life changing experience on the 15th day of August of 1986, and I really honestly do not give a mother fucking shit how many times this is said in repetition and reiteration, as it will always be said a minimum of at least one time too little, no matter how many times that this ever gets fucking said folks. What I am fighting is exactly like what mother nature forces do when they become destructive. The tangible and visible damages are when peeps are injured and killed and when property is damaged and or destroyed. The invisible energy reality behind this however, as any fully college educated person is, or at least should be; totally aware of; is that water and air becomes a vehicle whereby invisible energies move from molecule to molecule. It may appear that giant waves are solid, but this is total illusion. Wind cannot be seen, only its energy felt. The scientific simple truth is that air is basically made up of certain combined elements, as is water, and just as a brick wall in truth is not solid, neither is powerful forces of moving winds and waters. It is all ergs of energy, ask any physicist if you do not want to believe the words on this blog, but ask someone in the know who you trust before you just tune me out and yell “BULLSHIT” Mountainpen. Otherwise, the only bullshit is you. Some parallel events are obvious because unlike the air and water forces moved by energies, they are not recognizable due to their invisibility. Other parallel events, are quite visible and very obvious and explainable. After-all, if you punch some big dude in a bar, and call his girl a slut, and you are five feet five inches tall, and weigh one hundred and forty pounds; you, in all probability, are about to be sent hard onto the floor, with some teeth missing, and most likely, in need of other medical, as well as dental treatment. This is an obvious “PARALLEL EVENT”, and totally unlike the more obscure ones, such as applying outside parameter betting in Roulette gaming, at casinos, and then comparing two outcome parameters, with the outcome following it, on the remaining other parameter; or finding out that certain peeps are moving in tandem with the world banking system and Wall Street, and others are not. Hence the “Powerful Billionaires Cult”, finds very clever and covert ways, of both blessing the peeps that they know are running in the same direction in a parallel, “THEIR DIRECTION”, while cursing and destroying the lives, of the other folks such as me, who for whatever the cosmic reasons, are running in the totally opposite mode of their system.
I HAVE BEEN TELLING THIS TRUE TALE OF FUCKING HORROR ON MY BLOGS FOR MORE THAN 6 YEARS OF MY BLOGGING CAREER NOW, and it is all totally true, and sworn under oath by me, now and always, under Goddess SSJK, and Flag and Nation, of which, my ancestors literally were the 'founding fathers', as the term is so used and recognized in this current society. SIX STRAIGHT YEARS PLUS NOW, OF MY BLOGS, THIS IS NOT A MILLIONTH COUNCIL BLOG, or any other MC blog, THINGS MERELY TUNMLED COSMICALLY INTO PLACE AS TIME RAN ALONG, AND MY FAVORITE CONGRESSMAN SANG MY SONG in both 1975 and 1980. I am not Bess's babysitter on the Mary Tyler Moore show, forcing pieces on jigsaw puzzles, they merely fit and begin coming together, bit by bit, piece by piece, link by link, I am only the poor little amateur detective here, I am no god, nor do I claim to have the answers of it all, YO. But if you think I am going to sit back like some pathetic mother fucking geek in some fucking ass high school, endlessly picked on, and just take it, when the 'INTERNET' allows me to blog my mother fucking story straight from HELL; THEN YOU MUST BE A TOTAL FUCKING ASS IDIOT, AT C-SQ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now to move this on, beyond things that go wrong on all sides of the equation lines or demo tapes, flying and aerodynamics, TZ Haddonwood of 1995, and mothers who unlike any other mother I have ever met in my entire life, who do not seem to let it bother them that they never become a 'Mister Woodside' 'grandmother', and who simultaneously, totally insist on giving their only son, a 'mysterious hypothetical daughter', shortly after the 1980 LOIS FOCA interaction incident, such as mine, well peeps, if I have graduated to the Bess Babysitter MTM Club; well then, a great man who was, 'IMHO' was a total pig; Frank Sinatra Senior, will give you his blessing and tell you to GO TO BURGER KING and indeed HAVE IT YOUR WAY, as for me, I'd rather go watch Bob Vandegrift punch out old Ronald, and LOVE IT. Still, if you wanna' disagree with me, cool, but logic is on my side of the blackboard here with all of this, and I like totally freaking KNOW IT, AND DAVE SMITH FROM HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY IN 1970, like totally knows all of this too, as the younger folks might say this, YO. When the Utility attacks are continuous, then this becomes an MC blog, and stands for the MILLIONTH-COUINCIL. When shit is relentless that I know are being legislated by governing bodies that are in league with the front for the Mary Carter Paint Company's mighty 'CIA/NSA/BFA' program, of total and beyond black-ops affairs; then this blog again, stands for MC BLOGS, and when all hell broke loose after THE MENTALIST became the PHASE-4 dude from my wild strange maintenance man in my Oaklyn apartment, and all the stuff that followed it, from horse troughs and water hoses, to strange houses not yet lived in and unknown great RA's going out of their way to tell me things in dreams, then again, this becomes another MC blog, and standing this time for the greatest female RA of all time. Whether I am correct in all of my super sleuthing is one thing, but you know peeps, at least I have tried my utmost best to figure it all out. How many of you have ever applied such an effort to psychoanalyzing outlandish and bizarre shit that happens in your life? Now we can move on to tell something else, or maybe, depending on my mood as I go, several 'something else things'.
Starting with what I feel is most important, as I was raised not to hurt feelings, and to be straight, and to not ignore, I must tell my pal and partner why I have not sent him what I told him I would be sending him, and hopefully, he will then when he gets a spare seck, give me a horn holler so we can rap, should he want to straighten out my thoughts on this that I'll now express. This is not meant to offend, please do not take it that way, if I am in any way misunderstanding stuff, I will admit I am an ignorant shit and am open minded, and I want you to then tell me your side of the story, I am very interested. I cannot read your mind. You told me a month ago to send you my dance song, and I told you thast the great Lady Gaga, at the time, had a hit song with the same beat, so don't tell me it is not marketable, and you said for me to do it over at Jovi's, and send it to you, and it was sent,. Only it ended up another deal where you merely told me you couldn't do anything with it. You were the dude that answered my ad in the paper in late 1997 when I said I was a songwriter looking for a good promoter. I did not answer your ad. I spent 30-50 thousand dollars, and at best made back in royalties, 2 grand. Even my Wall Street enemies would have a difficult time rationalizing that kind of business operation. So I got to thinking that here we gfo again, you are supposed to be the promoter, like Lenny was, in 1980, who seemed to be the great Rastafarian that wanted to own me, to quote him. He was great for taping me illegally on the telephone, and taking money, making promises, and screwing me. I know that you on the other hand really did think this SPR project was going to work out, but for reasons that will endlessly elude me, it bombed out totally and completely. Even the Mahon story, PP, I will never believe I halve been told all the facts, and neither would any other person, or good attorney, or businessman. I should not have had to rely on just you telling me stuff, and me shelling out so much money. I never was shy about saying this to you from the beginning, and this would incur both your wrath, and wife Cookies as well on numerous occasions. I am sorry for offending, this is never my intention. But then I thought to myself, why send details to you about a way to save the entire music industry from the near disaster brought about by computer copying and technology, when I got nowhere with you on smaller things, right down to the most recent thing of you saying, send me the new dance tune and I'll do something with it, you know I do not know squat about promotion of music, or the internet and computers, it simply is not my 'emereffing' thing old buddy. I have a super way of bringing the entire industry back into real prosperity, but all anyone ever wants to do with me since I have been knee high to a small dog, is RIP ME FREAKING OFF, and I am sorry but I am just getting real darn tired of it, call me nuts. I know that you are not one of the bad guys in that category, but still, I am tired of endlessly losing and ending up with nothing, when I have a lot to offer this world. Now I am more than happy to have you call me, and tell me your side of these words that go from late 1997 right up through these present times. I will gladly go into this with you, but you have to produce, you are the promoter, if not, why did you answer my ad in freaking 1997, as we both know that my ad was quite clear, so please don't treat me like a darn retard. I am saddened by life and its situations. Why are so many peeps breaking promises, and leaving me out to dry? I am not including you in this PP, but if you have any great wisdom, just ring me up and we can rap, as I just want to live in peace. If I suck as a song writer, fine, I will move on, and do other things with my life, but as for the deal I was supposed to send you, I got to thinking and realized, why should I want to do this? You know, if we could pull this off, we would be every bit as rich as the 'Donald'. It really would bring the entire recording industry back from the brink of doomed profits due to piracy. Still, I want to go into this with somebody who really wants to do it, and no more paper only stuff, if we did this, we would go to a freaking lawyer and shit would be all written down and legal, I am tired of David Mahon crap, and if you were me, you would be too. I had a life, I had a nice home, I had many things until; I began trusting so many peeps, and everybody just laughed while they took it all away from me, and now it seems they won;t be happy until I am maggots. Do you have answers for me, PP, my old friend? Gimme' a holler, BRO. You know I am speaking the truth, but there are two sides to all stories,m and I genuinely want to hear your spin on these words that I have written.
I am in a rotten mood, my Morians. I do not think I wuill go on with lesson-3 of the SHEE tonight, or tell abny other huge secrets, other than this one. I know that MOVERS are all around. I know that Barry is one of them. I know that not all movers are in human bodies. I know that Mister-Data on ST-TNG-television, as with other Star Trek stuff, is way more real, and ongoing than the general population can start to imagine. I know that the great documentary aired in early 1988 by the great CHANNEL-11 telelvision station in NYNY, only scratched the reality surface, but scrathed it did, and big time. I know that two angry men shared a horrible early afternoon hour in a gate house at the American Honda Plant, and I know that the Copyright Office to this day has laughs over this. Well, laugh on, because ou8r chilkdren will not be laughing as this century moves on. Where are the real happy times peeps, be honest with yourselves, they are all behind us. Show me what is so great now in 2011, or in this horrible 21st century of greed and avarice. Show me how the American Dream did not die and get buried with a huge RIP poster above it. You show me how the Invasion from Wall Street in the middle and late eighties, did anything for the non super rich, other than make total slaves out of us and ruin our lives beyond any hope of repair or revival. Just prove it to me. Prove me wrong, Congressman. Prove me wrong, Assistant to CRA, Clarence Harris. Show me the error of my ways and thoughts, and not with stupid comments such as the one left me by the quintessential but wipe on www.unexplained-mysteries.com/ that merely totally prove that I am on the money, and when I cannot be disputed, the result from ape-like mentalities, are nonsensical comments such as his. Hay, Michelle Daniels said it all back in 1980, he is still entitled to his opinion, and I would not ever have it any other way, YO.
To my great daughter, I only say this. Show me where I have ever intentionally misled you. This is the furthermost thing from my goal ion this life. You are the realist that you are for quite obvious reasons, and I just want to get to the bottom of all of this, don't you? I know you do not want me blogging about the GAWNUM stuff, and notice I have not done this. I could say 1000 powerful things, but I keep my mouth shut. I know you do not want me to say things about PBK. I have failed you here. I will try and do better. What you really fear is not what you think you do, it is remembering, and you know what, you are totally correct, as always. My hypnotherapy in 1996 was the worst mistake that I ever made. Please tell Paula I am so sorry, and sorry for not being a little older also, I do miss her.
END TRANSMISSION:
KING NEBNOOSHOO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER 4:
“UFO COVER UP CHANNEL 11 DOCUMENTARY OF 1988:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATFILE: CH-0219-082311.845.5555555555555555555
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
We will work into the blogs' 4th subtitle, as what I open up with will lead into it quite well, and then all will combine and merge so wonderfully, trust me peeps. First, this is twice now, on two different and separate nights and at totally different times in the evening, that as soon as I begin to blog, the ancient persecution used against me by my diseased enemies, NOISE, has struck,. I no sooner start, and these fucking ass holes from across the hallway in my building, also start making very large disturbing sounds. I am totally aware of today's huge move in their ICPE cheated crooked manipulated DOW JONES STOCK MARKET. I expected it after huge horrendous attacks, NOISE is the one always used, it is NOISE by air, by neighbors, by anyone anywhere anytime, it is NOISE, and they know I hate a lot of mother fucking noise, who in their “right mind” doesn't? Today, not all that many folks are in their right mind, the entire world has alters so significantly since my childhood, that no words could ever begin to address the story, or hope to give it full dimension, and adequate detail. This using noise to persecute me, along with body and health attacks, property damage, utility persecution, and many other additional things, all work in perfect tandem to create what I term the INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT or 'ICPE', of hurting me and bringing my life forever down and wrecked, so as to keep their evil economy and world and power monger empire forever thriving. This opposite moving parallel event was caused by forces a long time ago, and did not fall into my conscious time world illusion, until I came out of a life changing experience on the 15th day of August of 1986, and I really honestly do not give a mother fucking shit how many times this is said in repetition and reiteration, as it will always be said a minimum of at least one time too little, no matter how many times that this ever gets fucking said folks. What I am fighting is exactly like what mother nature forces do when they become destructive. The tangible and visible damages are when peeps are injured and killed and when property is damaged and or destroyed. The invisible energy reality behind this however, as any fully college educated person is, or at least should be; totally aware of; is that water and air becomes a vehicle whereby invisible energies move from molecule to molecule. It may appear that giant waves are solid, but this is total illusion. Wind cannot be seen, only its energy felt. The scientific simple truth is that air is basically made up of certain combined elements, as is water, and just as a brick wall in truth is not solid, neither is powerful forces of moving winds and waters. It is all ergs of energy, ask any physicist if you do not want to believe the words on this blog, but ask someone in the know who you trust before you just tune me out and yell “BULLSHIT” Mountainpen. Otherwise, the only bullshit is you. Some parallel events are obvious because unlike the air and water forces moved by energies, they are not recognizable due to their invisibility. Other parallel events, are quite visible and very obvious and explainable. After-all, if you punch some big dude in a bar, and call his girl a slut, and you are five feet five inches tall, and weigh one hundred and forty pounds; you, in all probability, are about to be sent hard onto the floor, with some teeth missing, and most likely, in need of other medical, as well as dental treatment. This is an obvious “PARALLEL EVENT”, and totally unlike the more obscure ones, such as applying outside parameter betting in Roulette gaming, at casinos, and then comparing two outcome parameters, with the outcome following it, on the remaining other parameter; or finding out that certain peeps are moving in tandem with the world banking system and Wall Street, and others are not. Hence the “Powerful Billionaires Cult”, finds very clever and covert ways, of both blessing the peeps that they know are running in the same direction in a parallel, “THEIR DIRECTION”, while cursing and destroying the lives, of the other folks such as me, who for whatever the cosmic reasons, are running in the totally opposite mode of their system.
I HAVE BEEN TELLING THIS TRUE TALE OF FUCKING HORROR ON MY BLOGS FOR MORE THAN 6 YEARS OF MY BLOGGING CAREER NOW, and it is all totally true, and sworn under oath by me, now and always, under Goddess SSJK, and Flag and Nation, of which, my ancestors literally were the 'founding fathers', as the term is so used and recognized in this current society. SIX STRAIGHT YEARS PLUS NOW, OF MY BLOGS, THIS IS NOT A MILLIONTH COUNCIL BLOG, or any other MC blog, THINGS MERELY TUNMLED COSMICALLY INTO PLACE AS TIME RAN ALONG, AND MY FAVORITE CONGRESSMAN SANG MY SONG in both 1975 and 1980. I am not Bess's babysitter on the Mary Tyler Moore show, forcing pieces on jigsaw puzzles, they merely fit and begin coming together, bit by bit, piece by piece, link by link, I am only the poor little amateur detective here, I am no god, nor do I claim to have the answers of it all, YO. But if you think I am going to sit back like some pathetic mother fucking geek in some fucking ass high school, endlessly picked on, and just take it, when the 'INTERNET' allows me to blog my mother fucking story straight from HELL; THEN YOU MUST BE A TOTAL FUCKING ASS IDIOT, AT C-SQ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now to move this on, beyond things that go wrong on all sides of the equation lines or demo tapes, flying and aerodynamics, TZ Haddonwood of 1995, and mothers who unlike any other mother I have ever met in my entire life, who do not seem to let it bother them that they never become a 'Mister Woodside' 'grandmother', and who simultaneously, totally insist on giving their only son, a 'mysterious hypothetical daughter', shortly after the 1980 LOIS FOCA interaction incident, such as mine, well peeps, if I have graduated to the Bess Babysitter MTM Club; well then, a great man who was, 'IMHO' was a total pig; Frank Sinatra Senior, will give you his blessing and tell you to GO TO BURGER KING and indeed HAVE IT YOUR WAY, as for me, I'd rather go watch Bob Vandegrift punch out old Ronald, and LOVE IT. Still, if you wanna' disagree with me, cool, but logic is on my side of the blackboard here with all of this, and I like totally freaking KNOW IT, AND DAVE SMITH FROM HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY IN 1970, like totally knows all of this too, as the younger folks might say this, YO. When the Utility attacks are continuous, then this becomes an MC blog, and stands for the MILLIONTH-COUINCIL. When shit is relentless that I know are being legislated by governing bodies that are in league with the front for the Mary Carter Paint Company's mighty 'CIA/NSA/BFA' program, of total and beyond black-ops affairs; then this blog again, stands for MC BLOGS, and when all hell broke loose after THE MENTALIST became the PHASE-4 dude from my wild strange maintenance man in my Oaklyn apartment, and all the stuff that followed it, from horse troughs and water hoses, to strange houses not yet lived in and unknown great RA's going out of their way to tell me things in dreams, then again, this becomes another MC blog, and standing this time for the greatest female RA of all time. Whether I am correct in all of my super sleuthing is one thing, but you know peeps, at least I have tried my utmost best to figure it all out. How many of you have ever applied such an effort to psychoanalyzing outlandish and bizarre shit that happens in your life? Now we can move on to tell something else, or maybe, depending on my mood as I go, several 'something else things'.
Starting with what I feel is most important, as I was raised not to hurt feelings, and to be straight, and to not ignore, I must tell my pal and partner why I have not sent him what I told him I would be sending him, and hopefully, he will then when he gets a spare seck, give me a horn holler so we can rap, should he want to straighten out my thoughts on this that I'll now express. This is not meant to offend, please do not take it that way, if I am in any way misunderstanding stuff, I will admit I am an ignorant shit and am open minded, and I want you to then tell me your side of the story, I am very interested. I cannot read your mind. You told me a month ago to send you my dance song, and I told you thast the great Lady Gaga, at the time, had a hit song with the same beat, so don't tell me it is not marketable, and you said for me to do it over at Jovi's, and send it to you, and it was sent,. Only it ended up another deal where you merely told me you couldn't do anything with it. You were the dude that answered my ad in the paper in late 1997 when I said I was a songwriter looking for a good promoter. I did not answer your ad. I spent 30-50 thousand dollars, and at best made back in royalties, 2 grand. Even my Wall Street enemies would have a difficult time rationalizing that kind of business operation. So I got to thinking that here we gfo again, you are supposed to be the promoter, like Lenny was, in 1980, who seemed to be the great Rastafarian that wanted to own me, to quote him. He was great for taping me illegally on the telephone, and taking money, making promises, and screwing me. I know that you on the other hand really did think this SPR project was going to work out, but for reasons that will endlessly elude me, it bombed out totally and completely. Even the Mahon story, PP, I will never believe I halve been told all the facts, and neither would any other person, or good attorney, or businessman. I should not have had to rely on just you telling me stuff, and me shelling out so much money. I never was shy about saying this to you from the beginning, and this would incur both your wrath, and wife Cookies as well on numerous occasions. I am sorry for offending, this is never my intention. But then I thought to myself, why send details to you about a way to save the entire music industry from the near disaster brought about by computer copying and technology, when I got nowhere with you on smaller things, right down to the most recent thing of you saying, send me the new dance tune and I'll do something with it, you know I do not know squat about promotion of music, or the internet and computers, it simply is not my 'emereffing' thing old buddy. I have a super way of bringing the entire industry back into real prosperity, but all anyone ever wants to do with me since I have been knee high to a small dog, is RIP ME FREAKING OFF, and I am sorry but I am just getting real darn tired of it, call me nuts. I know that you are not one of the bad guys in that category, but still, I am tired of endlessly losing and ending up with nothing, when I have a lot to offer this world. Now I am more than happy to have you call me, and tell me your side of these words that go from late 1997 right up through these present times. I will gladly go into this with you, but you have to produce, you are the promoter, if not, why did you answer my ad in freaking 1997, as we both know that my ad was quite clear, so please don't treat me like a darn retard. I am saddened by life and its situations. Why are so many peeps breaking promises, and leaving me out to dry? I am not including you in this PP, but if you have any great wisdom, just ring me up and we can rap, as I just want to live in peace. If I suck as a song writer, fine, I will move on, and do other things with my life, but as for the deal I was supposed to send you, I got to thinking and realized, why should I want to do this? You know, if we could pull this off, we would be every bit as rich as the 'Donald'. It really would bring the entire recording industry back from the brink of doomed profits due to piracy. Still, I want to go into this with somebody who really wants to do it, and no more paper only stuff, if we did this, we would go to a freaking lawyer and shit would be all written down and legal, I am tired of David Mahon crap, and if you were me, you would be too. I had a life, I had a nice home, I had many things until; I began trusting so many peeps, and everybody just laughed while they took it all away from me, and now it seems they won;t be happy until I am maggots. Do you have answers for me, PP, my old friend? Gimme' a holler, BRO. You know I am speaking the truth, but there are two sides to all stories,m and I genuinely want to hear your spin on these words that I have written.
I am in a rotten mood, my Morians. I do not think I wuill go on with lesson-3 of the SHEE tonight, or tell abny other huge secrets, other than this one. I know that MOVERS are all around. I know that Barry is one of them. I know that not all movers are in human bodies. I know that Mister-Data on ST-TNG-television, as with other Star Trek stuff, is way more real, and ongoing than the general population can start to imagine. I know that the great documentary aired in early 1988 by the great CHANNEL-11 telelvision station in NYNY, only scratched the reality surface, but scrathed it did, and big time. I know that two angry men shared a horrible early afternoon hour in a gate house at the American Honda Plant, and I know that the Copyright Office to this day has laughs over this. Well, laugh on, because ou8r chilkdren will not be laughing as this century moves on. Where are the real happy times peeps, be honest with yourselves, they are all behind us. Show me what is so great now in 2011, or in this horrible 21st century of greed and avarice. Show me how the American Dream did not die and get buried with a huge RIP poster above it. You show me how the Invasion from Wall Street in the middle and late eighties, did anything for the non super rich, other than make total slaves out of us and ruin our lives beyond any hope of repair or revival. Just prove it to me. Prove me wrong, Congressman. Prove me wrong, Assistant to CRA, Clarence Harris. Show me the error of my ways and thoughts, and not with stupid comments such as the one left me by the quintessential but wipe on www.unexplained-mysteries.com/ that merely totally prove that I am on the money, and when I cannot be disputed, the result from ape-like mentalities, are nonsensical comments such as his. Hay, Michelle Daniels said it all back in 1980, he is still entitled to his opinion, and I would not ever have it any other way, YO.
To my great daughter, I only say this. Show me where I have ever intentionally misled you. This is the furthermost thing from my goal ion this life. You are the realist that you are for quite obvious reasons, and I just want to get to the bottom of all of this, don't you? I know you do not want me blogging about the GAWNUM stuff, and notice I have not done this. I could say 1000 powerful things, but I keep my mouth shut. I know you do not want me to say things about PBK. I have failed you here. I will try and do better. What you really fear is not what you think you do, it is remembering, and you know what, you are totally correct, as always. My hypnotherapy in 1996 was the worst mistake that I ever made. Please tell Paula I am so sorry, and sorry for not being a little older also, I do miss her.
END TRANSMISSION:
Monday, August 22, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0218
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0218
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE #4:
“FATHER OF THE SON OF SAM 0F WILLIAMSTOWN”.
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, 2006-2011
START BLOG:
Today was a major death siege, using heavy FIRE ALARM ATTACKS, and SKY SIEGE OF POISON CHEMTRAILS AND STALKING PRIVATE AIRCRAFT ACTIVITY, ON THIS NOW EVENING OF MONDAY, 22 AUGUST. For reasons beyond my knowledge of the evil sick mother fucking CALLIOTAMM FORCES, this day is far worse than the Monday just past, as well as the 25th anniversary of REAL-GOOD-GIRL, COPYRIGHTED SONG IN THE MAIL SYSTEM DAY. I am totally positive that the evil empire is getting its snotty way on their crooked markets. At 3 in the morning or just past, a major fire alarm woke me up, and caused me to be late for work today, and on top of this, the sky and aerial siege was quite bad and nasty. I have not been able to communicate with the cat-world. High end of all voices suffer when chemtrail posing is continually done in areas, don't ask me, ask Academy Road exits off of Interstate 95, ask the great U-Tube expert on this topic called “SKYWITNESS”, ask my freaking daughter too, if you want to. Illusions are everywhere. I am not here to dispel anyone's accepted beliefs or system of thoughts in their life or whatever, Congressman, I see you left Angel, and married a different woman than the one I remembered you with back in 1975. You acted like you didn't remember me at that Williamstown Town Meeting in 1994 in New Jersey in Washington Township in the county of Gloucester that day, and I told you that I wrote the book called, “The Permission Barrier”. So out comes the secret right now about the great father of the son of SAM, the great HIGHVIEW MAINTENANCE MAN OF THE MIDDLE NINETIES. If this world wants to get me going on secrets that I can [prove, only the BLUWEBOOK will not allow them to be proved, just tune into the BLOGSD OF MOUNTAINPEN, or you can exercise your endless right to remain totally ass fucking ignorant. Your choice folks, and I would not have things any other way. A world of robotics, be it an advanced class or a 4th millennium interaction filled with rock symphonies and homes and garages recreated in timeless experiments of passport pictures and Dorian Gray old science fiction picture shows, and so much fucking ass more peeps, YO, is to put it politely, mother fucking boring as hell, so I would never want to force an opinion on a single ass soul,. Still, if you are remotely interested, then read on, and if not, many other blogs await you, try the Great Blogs of Norwegian Retired Fishing Boat Captains, for all I give a mother fucking shit. No, robotics, advanced or not, classes or no classes, is not what I am pushing off on anyone. Do whatever the shit you wanna' do, it is your funeral in the end. Here is what happened as my last days of HIGHVIEW CHEERS were winding down, Copyright Examiners, Yellow Sheets of Paper, and all other interested folks, YO!!!
Paula King appeared at my door in late June of 1996, following my trips with David, over to Carlyle, Pennsylvania and hub cap smashes by the “DINGMAN-TEENAGER” of the times. The Highview Apartme4nts Maintenance man named Sam, told me late in June of 1996, that this giant goddess came into the front door, stayed with me for half of an hour or so and left, returning to her car, and driving away, just as 'mysteriously' as she arrived. I told Sam, I had no giant girlfriend with long beautiful dark hair. Of course, I would have told him I had no 26 year old daughter either, should he have asked me at the time. I realize now that the hypnosis and attempt at getting memories back again, distorted many repressed memories, all caused by this great KING, the GIANT QUEEN of somnambulists, also known as “SLEEP-WALKERS”. When I started this blog tonight, my annoying fucking neighbors made a lot of noise outside my door, and it is all coming from a source called 'IAD-ETTOS-PAWM-PIE', the great tools of the mighty evil twisted sick MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, whose Astral Plane existence, in so far as motives, agendas and total ops; is totally unknown; and whose physical world identity also is shrouded in mystery of glittering lights and booming sounds, and Irene Cara's and Donald Trump's. The night that the great Mariena Carlittia Crushed me in Atlantic city, may have been the 29th of October of 1996, but the real crush of my castle was done on July the 4th in 1969 by a beautiful awesome Melanie Safka look-alike, sleep-walker, who knew that I was too young to marry, and then took advantage of the knowledge of my family history on my father's side, and copied not only what happened to my dad's grandfather, but then went onto bigger and badder things than that. Still, my younger daughter Pee, was born on the opposite end of the calender solstice, and on the same day, and I remember, and this explains her age at the college, when I told my mom in the powerful interaction that I wish she never fucked my dad on one particular night, exactly nine months before my birth. I wonder now if a little RPLDD, was not helping this interaction along as I ponder back on it right fucking now, (RPL-DREAM-DEAL)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So on with lesson 2 now, in the blog of SJ-0216, regarding my discussions on the SHEE topic. There are peeps that just do not WANT to ever get it. They do not even try and make the leap that when we are here in waking-life, we are in one of countless parallel realities or atom-signature agreeing universes, ASAU. It is relative, as the Astral Realm is where we literally become an entity, from a collection of mind-energy signals from a higher dimension, Eckists refer to this 6th dimension as the Mental Plane, and this is their protected and register trademarked name, I merely tell the story of this, that is the property of Eckankar. Check it all out with good old GOOGLE, peeps, you'll see. Why would I make up a lot of junky stories for more than six solid years? To do that, I would need to be so fucking crazy, that I would not be able to function in society, hold a job, pay my bills, and live in a community. Think about it fucking rationally, folks, you will realize these things that I say, outlandish as they appear to be, are all totally true. Now t5he college girl and her boyfriend who I did not like too much, in 2014, since this is now only 2011, would be three years plus another fourteen and one half years, in age, or 17.5, really only a short way from age eighteen, as if you remember the hyperspace interaction, or vividly recalled “DREAM”, it was in the autumn somewhere, it is all on the freaking blogs, the entire COMOCOSI STORY, bringing me to another point about distant cousin Gallagher, or my 4th cuz Mary. She and her mother were murdered, and then her hubby was taken into his basement and strangled with rope, and then they made it look like a hanging, his old pal McGuire, and Dan Curtis and Harriet Rohr knew all about this way back in the middle nineteen sixties, as well as the LAMBRIGGER CULT, my birthday, and much more, and even planned some of the events that happened with me, after airing the original “Leviathan” Cult stuff on their television soap show, in reale time, right 'Tommy, watch your back', Dick Wolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My blogs in the years of 2008 and 2009, HARPED HYPER HUGE TIME; on the Braintree, Massachusetts double homicide/suicide, in my family; and now I remember finding out something, when 'Paula King' raped me in my apartment in late June of 1996, at the Highview; since she never raped me in the Kennedy Elevator at the Stratford, New Jersey Hospital, but yes folks, she told me a huge thing about both her, her father, her peeps, and Bob McGuire, her “more distant royal pain cousin” to quote this lovely giant long haired goddess. But we can harp and enzymeterize to use Astral Plane expression here, until the Callio's come home from pasture, Louis; on all of this, and it accomplishes little or nothing, just as bodily exercise, biblical truths known by any graduate of any6 good divinity school, as all anyone can ever do is to put off the inevitable visit from Morty Mortino, whether you die inside your mom, or make it onto a Smuckers jar and go on another 5-15 years past that, you still will wake up from your current ADD and that is the truth, with or without the judge coming in the late sixties, peeps, YO. Let me go on with lesson two now instead of further lute and harp playing, OK SKY? Talk about the 'original' rock singer. How can people doubt such powerful facts? It blows me away BRO. The AP is where we dream down from, with our one personality or 'spirit' in the words of the devout followers of basic Earth religions. We have a 5th dimensional personality in this soul-existence, that cannot exist in just one experience. It is too great, it has been created by something too great and powerful to be that limited. So when we dream, our body remains in the one place that atoms happen to agree throughout the universe with this body in so far as a vibratory signature, and then we can and do, experience the hyperspace, courtesy of our larger spirit being, acting sort of as the theater usher. It is all a game and a stage, and great minds of the past, famous for so much great literature, knew this 100%. Smart folks know I speak right now of William Shakespeare. It is not a simple deal to explain the details past this point, but I will do my very best to try. Day dreams and night dreams are all made of the same stuff, mixing energy combinations of multiphase mind-realm energy or waves of pure thought, and when some one does get onto a few powerful truths about all this, and began playing, the cosmos plays back, and once this starts, it has begun, and you cannot ever shut it down. It, like you, simply exists; as it always has, and always will, as time is pure illusion in higher reality and truth. In time worlds while awake, you will see the barrier of illusion, and not believe all of this shit so readily, I accept that reality as well. Lesson 3 will continue on a bit, and tell just how Paula, Sarah, Nina, and so many of this wild gang of teen girls from my past, all fits together in literally, this planet's hugest story of this present time ice-age-cycle, or (IAC).
Magnesonic, wipe out and destroy all those mother fucking bastards that are making me totally miserable, full power, all orders and commands, G189, and STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After a while, crocodile, only after a while, what, YO? Is this my way of continuing the great 2008 Annual Percentage Rate, oh great and mighty banks of Manhattan, and my distant ass hole cuzz Heinz Gottwald, or does the APR really stand for ADULT-PLAYGROUND-RAGE, LIKE DUH??????????????????? Gods help the bail out bastards, right Mister President? Hey, can you explain the bullshit I've blogged, old pal??????????????????
BLOG ENDS HERE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE #4:
“FATHER OF THE SON OF SAM 0F WILLIAMSTOWN”.
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, 2006-2011
START BLOG:
Today was a major death siege, using heavy FIRE ALARM ATTACKS, and SKY SIEGE OF POISON CHEMTRAILS AND STALKING PRIVATE AIRCRAFT ACTIVITY, ON THIS NOW EVENING OF MONDAY, 22 AUGUST. For reasons beyond my knowledge of the evil sick mother fucking CALLIOTAMM FORCES, this day is far worse than the Monday just past, as well as the 25th anniversary of REAL-GOOD-GIRL, COPYRIGHTED SONG IN THE MAIL SYSTEM DAY. I am totally positive that the evil empire is getting its snotty way on their crooked markets. At 3 in the morning or just past, a major fire alarm woke me up, and caused me to be late for work today, and on top of this, the sky and aerial siege was quite bad and nasty. I have not been able to communicate with the cat-world. High end of all voices suffer when chemtrail posing is continually done in areas, don't ask me, ask Academy Road exits off of Interstate 95, ask the great U-Tube expert on this topic called “SKYWITNESS”, ask my freaking daughter too, if you want to. Illusions are everywhere. I am not here to dispel anyone's accepted beliefs or system of thoughts in their life or whatever, Congressman, I see you left Angel, and married a different woman than the one I remembered you with back in 1975. You acted like you didn't remember me at that Williamstown Town Meeting in 1994 in New Jersey in Washington Township in the county of Gloucester that day, and I told you that I wrote the book called, “The Permission Barrier”. So out comes the secret right now about the great father of the son of SAM, the great HIGHVIEW MAINTENANCE MAN OF THE MIDDLE NINETIES. If this world wants to get me going on secrets that I can [prove, only the BLUWEBOOK will not allow them to be proved, just tune into the BLOGSD OF MOUNTAINPEN, or you can exercise your endless right to remain totally ass fucking ignorant. Your choice folks, and I would not have things any other way. A world of robotics, be it an advanced class or a 4th millennium interaction filled with rock symphonies and homes and garages recreated in timeless experiments of passport pictures and Dorian Gray old science fiction picture shows, and so much fucking ass more peeps, YO, is to put it politely, mother fucking boring as hell, so I would never want to force an opinion on a single ass soul,. Still, if you are remotely interested, then read on, and if not, many other blogs await you, try the Great Blogs of Norwegian Retired Fishing Boat Captains, for all I give a mother fucking shit. No, robotics, advanced or not, classes or no classes, is not what I am pushing off on anyone. Do whatever the shit you wanna' do, it is your funeral in the end. Here is what happened as my last days of HIGHVIEW CHEERS were winding down, Copyright Examiners, Yellow Sheets of Paper, and all other interested folks, YO!!!
Paula King appeared at my door in late June of 1996, following my trips with David, over to Carlyle, Pennsylvania and hub cap smashes by the “DINGMAN-TEENAGER” of the times. The Highview Apartme4nts Maintenance man named Sam, told me late in June of 1996, that this giant goddess came into the front door, stayed with me for half of an hour or so and left, returning to her car, and driving away, just as 'mysteriously' as she arrived. I told Sam, I had no giant girlfriend with long beautiful dark hair. Of course, I would have told him I had no 26 year old daughter either, should he have asked me at the time. I realize now that the hypnosis and attempt at getting memories back again, distorted many repressed memories, all caused by this great KING, the GIANT QUEEN of somnambulists, also known as “SLEEP-WALKERS”. When I started this blog tonight, my annoying fucking neighbors made a lot of noise outside my door, and it is all coming from a source called 'IAD-ETTOS-PAWM-PIE', the great tools of the mighty evil twisted sick MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, whose Astral Plane existence, in so far as motives, agendas and total ops; is totally unknown; and whose physical world identity also is shrouded in mystery of glittering lights and booming sounds, and Irene Cara's and Donald Trump's. The night that the great Mariena Carlittia Crushed me in Atlantic city, may have been the 29th of October of 1996, but the real crush of my castle was done on July the 4th in 1969 by a beautiful awesome Melanie Safka look-alike, sleep-walker, who knew that I was too young to marry, and then took advantage of the knowledge of my family history on my father's side, and copied not only what happened to my dad's grandfather, but then went onto bigger and badder things than that. Still, my younger daughter Pee, was born on the opposite end of the calender solstice, and on the same day, and I remember, and this explains her age at the college, when I told my mom in the powerful interaction that I wish she never fucked my dad on one particular night, exactly nine months before my birth. I wonder now if a little RPLDD, was not helping this interaction along as I ponder back on it right fucking now, (RPL-DREAM-DEAL)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So on with lesson 2 now, in the blog of SJ-0216, regarding my discussions on the SHEE topic. There are peeps that just do not WANT to ever get it. They do not even try and make the leap that when we are here in waking-life, we are in one of countless parallel realities or atom-signature agreeing universes, ASAU. It is relative, as the Astral Realm is where we literally become an entity, from a collection of mind-energy signals from a higher dimension, Eckists refer to this 6th dimension as the Mental Plane, and this is their protected and register trademarked name, I merely tell the story of this, that is the property of Eckankar. Check it all out with good old GOOGLE, peeps, you'll see. Why would I make up a lot of junky stories for more than six solid years? To do that, I would need to be so fucking crazy, that I would not be able to function in society, hold a job, pay my bills, and live in a community. Think about it fucking rationally, folks, you will realize these things that I say, outlandish as they appear to be, are all totally true. Now t5he college girl and her boyfriend who I did not like too much, in 2014, since this is now only 2011, would be three years plus another fourteen and one half years, in age, or 17.5, really only a short way from age eighteen, as if you remember the hyperspace interaction, or vividly recalled “DREAM”, it was in the autumn somewhere, it is all on the freaking blogs, the entire COMOCOSI STORY, bringing me to another point about distant cousin Gallagher, or my 4th cuz Mary. She and her mother were murdered, and then her hubby was taken into his basement and strangled with rope, and then they made it look like a hanging, his old pal McGuire, and Dan Curtis and Harriet Rohr knew all about this way back in the middle nineteen sixties, as well as the LAMBRIGGER CULT, my birthday, and much more, and even planned some of the events that happened with me, after airing the original “Leviathan” Cult stuff on their television soap show, in reale time, right 'Tommy, watch your back', Dick Wolf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My blogs in the years of 2008 and 2009, HARPED HYPER HUGE TIME; on the Braintree, Massachusetts double homicide/suicide, in my family; and now I remember finding out something, when 'Paula King' raped me in my apartment in late June of 1996, at the Highview; since she never raped me in the Kennedy Elevator at the Stratford, New Jersey Hospital, but yes folks, she told me a huge thing about both her, her father, her peeps, and Bob McGuire, her “more distant royal pain cousin” to quote this lovely giant long haired goddess. But we can harp and enzymeterize to use Astral Plane expression here, until the Callio's come home from pasture, Louis; on all of this, and it accomplishes little or nothing, just as bodily exercise, biblical truths known by any graduate of any6 good divinity school, as all anyone can ever do is to put off the inevitable visit from Morty Mortino, whether you die inside your mom, or make it onto a Smuckers jar and go on another 5-15 years past that, you still will wake up from your current ADD and that is the truth, with or without the judge coming in the late sixties, peeps, YO. Let me go on with lesson two now instead of further lute and harp playing, OK SKY? Talk about the 'original' rock singer. How can people doubt such powerful facts? It blows me away BRO. The AP is where we dream down from, with our one personality or 'spirit' in the words of the devout followers of basic Earth religions. We have a 5th dimensional personality in this soul-existence, that cannot exist in just one experience. It is too great, it has been created by something too great and powerful to be that limited. So when we dream, our body remains in the one place that atoms happen to agree throughout the universe with this body in so far as a vibratory signature, and then we can and do, experience the hyperspace, courtesy of our larger spirit being, acting sort of as the theater usher. It is all a game and a stage, and great minds of the past, famous for so much great literature, knew this 100%. Smart folks know I speak right now of William Shakespeare. It is not a simple deal to explain the details past this point, but I will do my very best to try. Day dreams and night dreams are all made of the same stuff, mixing energy combinations of multiphase mind-realm energy or waves of pure thought, and when some one does get onto a few powerful truths about all this, and began playing, the cosmos plays back, and once this starts, it has begun, and you cannot ever shut it down. It, like you, simply exists; as it always has, and always will, as time is pure illusion in higher reality and truth. In time worlds while awake, you will see the barrier of illusion, and not believe all of this shit so readily, I accept that reality as well. Lesson 3 will continue on a bit, and tell just how Paula, Sarah, Nina, and so many of this wild gang of teen girls from my past, all fits together in literally, this planet's hugest story of this present time ice-age-cycle, or (IAC).
Magnesonic, wipe out and destroy all those mother fucking bastards that are making me totally miserable, full power, all orders and commands, G189, and STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After a while, crocodile, only after a while, what, YO? Is this my way of continuing the great 2008 Annual Percentage Rate, oh great and mighty banks of Manhattan, and my distant ass hole cuzz Heinz Gottwald, or does the APR really stand for ADULT-PLAYGROUND-RAGE, LIKE DUH??????????????????? Gods help the bail out bastards, right Mister President? Hey, can you explain the bullshit I've blogged, old pal??????????????????
BLOG ENDS HERE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
Friday, August 19, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0217-DC
DAUGHTER CODE-U-TUBE
July 17, 2011
“THE CAT LOVES HIS DAUGHTER”
DID THIS WITHOUT HELP FROM NICK:
Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?
mountainpenagain posted on Feb 18, 2009 | views: 37 | Tags: thanksgiving siege right on target
“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”
(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951
Beginning Transmission:
I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.
Long story short, the mail was always delivered here at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.
Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Kallis, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! www.blogger.com/http/drunkenhive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?
GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.
E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.
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Comments
anonymous said on Apr 02, 2009....
You shrunk a bit there dalmatian, but I saw you still speak the human lingo, wow, you are telling the truth, God is 16 or at least she watches the show.
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Archives: Jul 2011 | Jun 2011 | May 2011 | Apr 2011 | Mar 2011 | Feb 2011 | all
July 17, 2011
“THE CAT LOVES HIS DAUGHTER”
DID THIS WITHOUT HELP FROM NICK:
Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?
mountainpenagain posted on Feb 18, 2009 | views: 37 | Tags: thanksgiving siege right on target
“Y SHOUDN’T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE”
(The epitome of harassment, internet version)
(The millionth-council and me)
(Morianity project continues from 1995 on tape)
DATFILE: 021809.951
Beginning Transmission:
I liked it a lot more when my computer was a lot simpler, but genius Ed Himacane made some major changes when he was last over, and programs run and stuff happens, and it is a pain in the rear end 4 me, the freaking sweeper keeps signaling me and stopping the word program every minute, and also the WOMO gave me a bowel hit a little while back around 9 or just past. Now this pain in my ass computer crap is not stopping, I have tried shutting down, restarting, nothing stops it, some fucking worm is in this, the sweeper will not stop popping on and yet all of this has been swept. Well, guess Eddie will B coming back over. Someday I will prove I am being messed with somehow and take this straight 2 the ACLU and the FBI, cannot blog further until I get 2 the fucking bottom of this spy sweeper problem. All I can do is keep fucking with this thing, let it re-sweep and multitask, the gods; all I wanna' do is blog Ed, what have U done 2 me with all this complex shit? I am not looking 2 run a 20 tera byte system, just 2 do a little blogging 4 crissake. Aniwho, MCMCAAONMC, I guess that is all the dumb machine wanted, just to sweep again, as it is not signaling me and stopping the word program every 20 seconds, PTL--PR. Miss cunt face tried 2 wipe me out, have to shit my eyes a couple minutes now, or that crumb’ll nail me 4 sure. OK, now it is eleven thirteen. I will NEVER FORGIVE OR FORGET that horrid night, back in 1993; at the Atlanta Braves Ballpark, Jane. What U did 2 me was so despicable, it would stink right through a garden of flowers 8 light years cubed. Anyway I am not in a doghouse, I am in a far worse house, and have so much 2 tell y’all it sucks wind backwards at the speed of sound. Where 2 begin is always my biggest problem, as I never will have the time I need 2 really write anywhere near all that I feel is necessary; in order 2 reveal my major plight 2 this evil world in sufficient amounts, so as 2 get anyone with clout 2 ever take pity on me, and assist me in getting 2 the bottom of my hellish nightmare woes. Actually, if the top most powerful persons on the Earth all decided 2 help me, they would fail. That is how gargantuan my troubles really R BRO, Twinbay, and all others. I am not a pessimist Missy, and U read me all wrong that day at the Galloway, New Jersey Library. But nothing ever just happens and no one will understand what I know in its fullness, not Christians, not atheists, not scientists, not sci-fi buffs, not Catholics, not even Eckists, Monks, Buddhists, and U name it, as nobody sees in total clarity, what is real; nobody. The reason that all things appear 2B in some weird and indistinguishable code of jumbled randoms, beyond any possible human recognition; is because we believe whole heartedly, and take a powerful Copperfield illusion, totally seriously; that a projection around us is there and real, when in fact; nothing beyond our center of is-ness of being can B. This of course is simply because, as any possible space extends out beyond our innermost self, time brings it all back right into us in a circulation system of perfect and precise ratio and proportion, that is all a part of the mechanics of a hypersphere, or an upline thought wave in a down-lining process; and this is truth. Refreshing old blogs, 4 new Blogauds, that will most likely not go back, and sift through the long-winded Mountainpen discourses of Morianity, and its teachings; there is a truth that is real to itself, and the Buddhists R not correct that all truth is alterable and relative, to what an inner self makes it, until it eventually comes 2 realize that it is not really there 2 start with. This is all so true in a small box, but it leaves out what the great Atlantic City alchemist told me back in the summer-time of 1974, while I was staying overnight at a rooming house, owned by a lady named Selena Dada, on Stenton Place, between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. The ultimate truth IS zero dimension. This nothingness somehow DOES exist, and IS aware of itself; and cannot find a way 2 shut off that awareness. It does learn 2 dream out and away from itself into phase two reality, or the Astral Plane; or the Shakespearean arena of the great dream shift, that mortals call the spirit world or realm. Some entity connected with the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL will not stop this fucking hacking, the sweep finished, and now the prompt keeps popping up again, so Ed will come over and get 2 the bottom of this fucking shit once and 4 all. 4 right now, I must live with this, as I have now lived for two days with no telephone service that I am legally paying 4, and I am gonna' contact the BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, no peace 4 a second ever, not on the weekends in that hell job, and now my entire weeks R wrecked. It is round the clock, with no let up, and not a moments peace 4 life, right WPIX-1988-New York, New York, UFO THE COVER UP TV SHOW, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON? Talk about never forgetting things like dirty rotten Jane in 1993, or this show on channel 11, NYNY, back in 1988. U don’t forget major shit that goes down in your life, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! It never stops, it never backs off. Committing suicide only serves 2 make it worse 4 me, as I know it is all an illusion, and that I will just find myself right back in the same dream, like running 4 the light, and the light won’t go on, and realizing that U never woke up, and now U finally have; so again U jump out of bed and run 4 the light, and then again it does not go on, and I have gone through this nightmare 4 monstrous lengthy amounts of time, or whatever is really happening; just as I have existed forever and will; and I KNOW IT. I slit my wrists last night at 3 in the morning, and slowly bled out right here on my bed. It is so way cool 2 bleed out, and feel the life going out of U, as U get icy cold; and begin 2 fade away, believing as hard as U can that it will all B over in a moment, just as Skylar Rumson was told by Barnabas Collins, when he forced him 2 shoot himself through the heart; on the television show, 'DARK SHADOWS'. Only 4 me, I keep waking up and thinking I am dying; and have not yet died, and then die; and then wake up again and again, until eventually, I wake up, and the entire thing was just a dream, but then; I am aware totally, that all of this is just an astral dream down, and even that is a dream away from the truth; or the great void of zero dimensional existence; something no human being can fathom. Some of these mighty truths were once up online on a website called, www.morianity-foundation.com/ but this site is now defunct, as Kate and I do not have any money; nor any new material 2 copyright presently, on the subject thereof. I am aware that free sites exist, and Ed will B working on finding me one; and getting this foundation, and its many powerful truths, back up 4 this blind ignorant planet, and its residents 2C and know. At least this world will have the truth. The only good thing now, is that this stupid fucking pop up can shoot up every 20 seconds or so; and eventually go off, and it is not stopping the word program until I click on it.
Long story short, the mail was always delivered here at this lovely 6-9 room place, with rooms that all sort of go into each other, with no hallways; and just endless first days of summer of 2008, and a powerful goddess that has been chasing me around 4 all infinity now; but mail was always delivered here at about 10:30 AM, until about last weekend give or take, and now it is coming sporadically and never B4 3 or so in the afternoon. King Dawn the Queen, formerly and always known by, PRINCE; asked me 2 call the Post Office, and C if I can find out what is up with the mail around here, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I reminded her what she wanted me 2 use 4 a telephone. She said, 'use the house phone that they have on their Comcast Cable system' that also runs my internet, and we split the package deal bill between us. Still, I reminded her that I did not have the number 4 the Post Office, even though I invented the thing a very long time ago. She always tells me how expensive it is on their Comcast plan, 2 call the service information operator. Her mom AKS, looked up the number in some book they finally found; a personal book of numbers and they had the local Post Office listed, yo. So I called, and Long Island Highways, and Lottery Cats that meow me 2 death in 1980, just 2 or 3 months after the LOIS FOCA interaction with SCYLLA; they have an interesting telephone number, right Frank Calli-0---D-I-E, YO??????????? There is no way this is all just a coincidence, wo BRO, I am not done yet, so hold onto your stupid looking suspenders, Eddie Albert Gabor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God these crashing cymbals get louder by the day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Aniwho, MC,MC, and all other non MC’s; I called and spoke my peace; and here is what the nice lady told me, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It seems the rural area of Berryville, New Jersey, formerly B4 Mountainpen and Prince, known as Hammonton, is going 2 get a mail count, interesting initials. This Mail Count is not 4 any reason I have ever heard of. The story I was given, was that all mail on local roads, will B taken first 2 the Post Office 2B counted; and then delivered. This is the wildest and strangest thing I have heard of since I invented the Post Office. Do they really think Roger is going 2 mail me something from Arizona?????????????????? I cannot think of any other reason 4 this very mysterious and strange SITUATION here, Inspector Louigee Henderson!!!!!!!!! If UR out there RC, do not mail me anything, this is 2 weird!!!!!!!!!!!! Your system is wonderful. I played 4 games today, 3 were all no signal, and the 4th one was an IN-LOW-8-STOP OUT LOW-14, with one green hit, for a 5 and a half unit profit.
Diana, I am not able 2 communicate with U in our usual way, until the repairman arrives Thursday afternoon. When he does, he is going 2 face the phone jack, insert plug down, currently with no pun intended, it faces up, right into that leak from the upstairs bathroom shit-hole, and even though this leak has been fixed; I do not trust these fucking pricks from here 2 the China Earthquakes, and the Hawaiian Volcanoes. Much later tonight, or 2 keep Don Cialoni happy from the recording studio, tomorrow night, as he used 2 say, “It won’t B tomorrow, until I go home and go 2 bed, and then get up”; I will B back on line with my big beautiful blond. Please always B around me Diana, UR my lightning, and I need U my love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I felt that terrific strike the other day, when I was moving something; and made contact with something. How I loved my days as Benny, and messing with U, and the only thing that saddens me now, is that U never trusted me with your secrets back then, of what and WHO I was dealing with, after all; it is all just a dream, right Chris Farlowe, plans and schemes all not withstanding????? Well, she did ladies and gentlemen, as I lay on my bed dying in 1790, no this is not a typo; crash, bing, Harry Kallis, and 13 bells of Sound Pressure Level, BR!!!!! No DZA did tell me at the very end when she knew my heart was just about 2 quit, and told me that I would wake up in a room in the sun, and I did in 1980, but she never explained how she was Sarah-Stacey’s cousin on the great Astral Plane, and I did not know about her at all until the end of the 20th century. Maybe this is all how and Y and what made my dad so sick 2 his stomach on the train. No uncle Snoots, I never said my poopy pop was right by telling the conductor that it was U that puked all over. I just think it was very rude of U2B saying this 2 my mom, at your shit hole mansion, at 175 Peninsula Drive, in Nebuchadnezzar-ville, New York; right in my presence, when I was just a young lad of 17; ya son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!!! But who am I but dog shit?, and UR the mighty Senior Vice President of the Chemical National Bank, the second most powerful bank on the planet at the time in ‘72. Cheer up Sam Walton, my plans R all fucked up, and that boosts this scummy economy of yours, and uncle Snooties. Nothing good lasts forever, but let me tell the world what happened when I woke from the dream where I slit my wrists. The market had gone up 1633 points that day. I know it, I was there; but by moving off of where I was exactly in the hyperspace, I re-dreamed myself into a slightly shifted locale, where the 'DOW' had finished off nearly three bucks. Hyperspaces make strange bed fellows, huh banker of Akoslem??????????????? U wouldn’t have wanted the Haddonwood property buddy, as there is a strange void field out in the lake there somewhere, that leads far away; and U don’t need 2B concerned with what this pitiful whittle retard knows about all this, ol’ buddy!!!!!!!!!!!! “Talk 2 Frank”. Yeah, I was good enough 4U back when I was 15 though, huh Victoria, U child molester!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH “I have such gorgeous hair”, do I? Well, U need 2 talk 2 Donna Gaines, and her friends; and then 2 the Wolf clan, that seems so fascinated by her last name. Jeese Louise Shannon Wallwarp Carwrecker Genlow, of December 18th of 2006!!!!! www.blogger.com/http/drunkenhive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost 39 years have come and gone now Vicki, bite me bitch!!!!!!!!!!! This whole nightmare chews. I’m bookin’, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y shouldn’t a dog live in a doghouse, a crazy house; or a nightmare? Well, because I never did anything 2 deserve this, and just because I am Stacey’s dog, this is just 2 keep her miserable parents happy. They banned all the dogs out of Her great city, and over the great wall into Dogtown. Read the last page of the KJV of the Holy Bible, Y would I make this shit up, BRRRR?
GOOGLE AND SWIS, AND KS-WORLD LABS OF 2299, THIS IS ALL Blahhhhhh and bleeeeeeeee and blmummmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Copyright Michael Wayne Mountainpen-2009, and blog registered on an official registry bloggers website.
E~N~D------------T~R~A~N~S~M~I~S~S~I~O~N, BR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mark or Jesse, Grammar schools in EHNJUSAESMWG in this or any other part of HS.
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Comments
anonymous said on Apr 02, 2009....
You shrunk a bit there dalmatian, but I saw you still speak the human lingo, wow, you are telling the truth, God is 16 or at least she watches the show.
Comment on "Y SHOULDN'T A DOG LIVE IN A DOGHOUSE?"
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