The Epitome of Harassment - Internet Version

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0285

2011-12-09T13:27:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0286
DATFILE: 120911.629
WORLD LABS SEND BACK TEXT VIA STM
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
COPYRIGHT © BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

This was a very bad BOTBAR fucking day for me. I had to pull a make up 90 minutes up at the Harvest where I am employed through the AARP. Back a few days ago, I was up at their regional office in Port Saint Lucie, Florida for my bi-annual employee evaluation, and mild spanking. I admit that I do not do all the things required of me, it is pretty hard to be me and deal with a truck load of WOMO enemies, and then do my job at www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and then on top of that, do job searches, and many other things such as attend Workforce solutions classes, and the list goes on and on. Let me tell you about my mother fucking horrendous day, and then I will totally blow your minds with other shit, peeps, I will guarantee all of you that, along with Mister Tahren Gandhi and George Foreman.

I had saved from food that I wanted to purchase, and forgot to do so after clocking out on Wednesday afternoon, and yesterday was my Sheriff day to report major stuff and I did get tot he bottom of quite a lot, but need to keep my big fat fucking mouth shut about all of this for the time being; so I hid what I wanted to buy in a spot I thought for sure would keep it safe, and none of the items were perishables. I got there today and learned it all went back on the shelves and was lost. I had some really good fucking shit that I wanted, and I lost it. New bosses there at the place, are making lots of shit total hell. On top of that, some powerful Hydroglacia force, popped up behind me while I was in an isolated spot for a second, and literally ripped my watchband apart, leaving it to fall onto the hard floor, and bust. I am a tiny bit faster than other peeps, and have been ever since my encounter with the great 'Colaman' at Haddonwood, in 1995, at the indoor swimming pool. This is why I actually was able to see a strange entity that in-between an eighth of a second or so, appeared next to me, performed this wicked dastardly mother fucking deed, and vanished away, just like out of the wildest shit on television you'd ever see folks. Three acts of property damage from the past week now expand to a total of fucking FOUR of them. Fucking with my television and causing no picture from several days back, the second thing that happened when I told you on a prior blog that two utility attacks struck me together during that horrific day of unfathomable fucking death siege; shorting out my home stereo equalizer system, breaking a switch on my home stereo mixer board, and now #4= MY WATCHBAND, and causing me a broken fucking watch. There is one person alive who knows how evil Robert McGuire is, and is a distant complex cousin, based on series of in-law and blood lineage systems over several generations. This person however is not quite the way she was some time back when reality was her number one concern, even over a billion dollars. I do know this much, maybe not much else, but I do know this much. Now, well; everything changes if given enough time. Misery as they say loves company, but I merely wanted to get to the bottom of why this family is doing so much horrible stuff to me, and I feel that my great daughter knows, but is unwilling to say. Well, leading horses to water troughs and buckets and interactions is one thing, maybe the symbolization in that oh-8 dreaming-interaction, was I was willing to learn the truth and accept the truths that I would come to learn over coming years, and did so by pouring the water bucket all over myself, and then later on, whatever secret details were revealed to me by my wonderful special child all grown up, perhaps is not all remembered, and a lot is gapped out upon returning to this waking world “dream” again, that following morning. If I had a cousin that could pull of the trick that he did on Tennessee Avenue in October of 2006, I know I'd want to know a lot more, all else be damned. On top of that, add up the shared problem of the trails and how they damaged us, and on and on, and I cannot see how anything, even fifty billion dollars, would not pale in comparison. Money will all turn to dogshit, but not knowing what and how we fit into these things, this may very well last forever for us, Brown-Eyes, but you know what's best, after-all, and I am not being cute or smart here, “U-RULE THE EMPIRE”, and said so from high places, PUBLICALLY, on the same day precisely 12 years after I wrote my song called, “SARAH”. So tell me this, where is my, as Donna would put it so well, after she too, caused me her share of anguish and grief; “messed up mind” seeing any or all of these things wrong. Also, what is here with this that I don't know anything about. Maybe I do not know, as you proclaim on VQI, anything about you after all infinity, great lovely Jehovah Goddess, but this poor old CARPENTER would really LOVE to know, what I'm missing here, and just what it is that I've got so wrong? I did not imagine 30 Plaza Place and that nobody can get a photograph of this place without extremely outlandish and bizarre things happening to them, or the great Pittsburgh Hotel on 10-SC Avenue as well, so it would freaking appear, or maybe, NOT APPEAR, or maybe better still, not be remembered, erased, from mind and cameras as well, via powerful ASTRAL PLANE TOOLS known as the PAWM-PIE.

The scriptures that you influenced to be written down and saved by 'magic' through thousands of years, SSJK; talk about the quick and the dead. If a person or any living entity, cannot maintain the necessary speed on a cellular level, to keep up with the needed ratio of the speed of time and its reflection; it no longer is interacting in that realm and time dimension. It is 'dead'. I'm not implying that our mind works at the speed of light, but I am saying that time runs along in a direction that is relative to the polarity of the electron and proton that makes up its individual universe system, and is the mirrored image of all things reflected back at all points from any given point in space-time. Thus, if we took a television st to a planet, providing one could be found and reached; that was 41 light years away from our Earth, and the signal broadcast was strong enough when it was originally sent out and aired, we could all watch the television that would be playing live on the air back in the original days if tuning say to the American Broadcasting company Network, we could watch all over again, the Leviathan plot unfolding with Paul Stoddard, Barnabas Collins, Jebez Hawks, and Nickolas Blair, on the show, “Dark Shadows”, and watch Poor old Paul Stoddard be given his second PAYMENT DUE DATE, the first one was my 15th birthday on 12/4/69, and then the next one was on 1/15/70. Back then, the Monday Holiday system had not fully kicked in, so this was always “King Day”, as now despite this date being his real birthday, the holiday is celebrated on the nearest Monday in January. Still, the freaking odds of the two PAYMENT DUE DATES, MY BIRTHDAY AND MARTIN KING DAY, YO, I know I do not buy into the coincidence, you all can do whatever you like, but shall we now return to the topic at hand folks. First, in completing the previous point, my day of birth brought me in my present human form into this so-called life here, and then it was all destined to lead up to meeting Christopher Bennett, son of Dick wolf's team's Correction Officer, Sir Warlock Worley, and his dad, you guessed it was indeed a CO; and then from there, he put me onto blogging my nightmare story on the internet, and this led me to the Hammonton Library, where I was all pre-panned to meet computer guru ed Lynch, the downstairs neighbor of the KINGS, Dawn-Marie and Ann, and Dawnie's hubbie, Sir Chicky, from the great Mayan Guatemala. Now I am blogging this in a time, just days away from a powerful MAYAN CALENDAY year, the great 2012. Still laughing, SIR LEE, abnd MAHM MICHELE and fam??????????????????????????????? The topic of LIGHT and TIME, is simple. This is why this other hypothetical planet, relax mom; that in this example cited in my illustration here on this blog; that is 41 light years away in distance, also means that if you turn on the TV and receive EARTH, you would be watching the TV of 41 years ago, hi there Carolyn, are my blogs your daddy's second most prized possession, as you are certainly his first, and not hypothetically, MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT, gimme' a freaking bwake, ELMER FWUUUUUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now taking this a little further still, we do operate on a level of awareness and consciousness that indeed is in a ratio, no SORIAN HACKER, not RATION, I caught that hack Lattisaw and erased off the “N”, AHA-AHA-AHA, YO; aniwho, this ratio is the speed that divides 186,282 SMPS by, (Statute Miles Per Second), and can be thought of as the speed that your brain and neurological system, processes your senses, using the same constant of the second. Basically, just a little quicker than one sixth of one second, is the processing speed of a human being's awareness. These periods of time can be more easily grasped by thinking of them as INSTANTS, one instant carrying over into the next instant. Using this second-constant rating system, a formula indeed can be rationally figured and deduced quite accurately and scientifically, that permits us to know the ratio of our life to the speed of time. As we age, although it is virtually infinitesimal, we slow down a little bit, and time runs away from us a little faster. In the final second of our consciousness, be it before we fall off into a living sleep, or into the non-living state of death that is based on life in a time dimension; this final 6th second turns into an infinitely increasing expansion of millionths and quadrillionths of a second and so forth forever; and just as a nuclear half life never has a total ZR breakdown (Zero-Rad), where no radio activity at all is present; an enlightened soul starts to realize that these mathematical formulas indeed show that we never really live in a time reality to start with, but are dreaming a space-time-mind dimension, and falling into this dream, only to eventually, slow down again, and wake up out of it. Time runs away too fast, we slow down, and to the time world and its inhabitants, we grow still, and cold, and DEAD. However, it is time that was never really there, and was an illusion and parlor trick from the second we gained enough speed off of the Astral Plane, to fall asleep into this STM dimensionality. Oh yes sir folks, somebody had to know these details in order to write words such as “The quick, and the dead”. These same WHATEVERS had to know that Earth was a sphere in an orbit in an expanded area out beyond it in six opposite end directions that all curve involutedly back again as is the nature of moving hyper-spheres with all of their unlimited subatomic-existing parallel universes. This is all written in scrolls thousands of years ago, and has been most recently best translated into the KJV HOLY BIBLE, so who in not only 1546 but 1-3 K years before Christ was here, could have known all these things? Well, the same WHATEVERS who broke my watch today, AND HAS CAUSED ME HELL AND CURSES AND UNIMAGINABLE GRIEF AND TEARS for 57+ years of my human life now, as MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN.

Do I personally believe in coincidence at all, ever? NO I DO NOT. All stuff that happens is part of the same fabric that has made up my wild and beyond off the wall weird life. You have the same things that I do too folks, the difference is that another Paula King in your life, of a sort; has mesmerized abnd hypnotized you into totally not observing or seeing any of it. You have been successfully programmed my peeps, not to see, not to know, but to live in blind darkness, and who knows, divine bliss as well, after-all, it is me and not you, that Alice Gallagher of Chicago, and other victims also, suffer from this unspeakable HUNTINGTON CURSE. This is the funniest laugh of all, that my kid was born up there by the bay, did all the stuff she did over the past half decade, and now is living in total denial. Still, this is why there will be 2 MC's in her life in two weeks, and none here at 601 Avenue B in FTPEFLUSAESMWG. As she says, “SHE RULES”. Well, I do not argue with that, even stupidity on my level has its limitations, thank the freaking gods, YO.

Much much much much more will be said later on as we enter the Christmas Hellidays. I will say a lot of things about property damager McGuire, the non photographic areas of Atlantic City, and mighty GOOGLE, as one of them is more than enough for me to deal with, am I correct here Doctor Diva Margret, Apollo-Lucifer (On Earth), and twin sister DIANA. Diana Moon, Diana Son, and Dick Wolf. Add in a few more characters, and wow, what a motley crew and collection of 16's we have, yar maitees. Hay, this is the Treasure Coast of Florida, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I BEG PARDON, daddy, so let me include you here, after all, it is your booty down there, so FUCK THIS SHIT, you 12 ANGRY ME OF THE JURY, SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!

End transmission:

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0284

2011-12-08T10:50:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0284
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
DATFILE: 120811.565
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO/
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM, SOSO-WEIN-SSDD”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN----(C) 2006-2011
ALL STATEMENTS MADE HEREIN ARE SELF SWORN
VOLUINTRARY OATHS, INDER FULL WEIGHT AND
PENALTIES FOR CHARGES OF PURJERY, SLANDER, AND LIBEL.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

For 57 mother fucking years, the WOMO scum trash bottom feeders times ten tot he power of a quadrillion, have done nothing other than sit around 24/7/365.2422, year in and year old, trying to figure out ways of making my life a continuous and constant living fucking nightmare hell disaster cubed, and they have been amazingly and unfathomably successful at their career.

Late last night around eleven or just after this, PM-EST, the attack began slowly, and is monstrously building, as I speak and type. It was both my trash-ass nabes that were active last night after several days of relative peace and quiet. Then today at just past Jane Bitch Clock-Sleaze-Disease, and shy of q quarter passt one, about twenty minutes ago, a fire alarm knocked me suddenly right out of my shoes, and exactly when I was telling Diana that I will never understand or really know the great SARAH-STACEY-JEHOVAH-KRASSLE. As I then went onto tell he over the telephone, the details of even how the great SSJK told me on Viqueens Island or 'VI', that indeed, I do not know anything about HER, and only think that I do, BOOM, the fire alarm attack went blaring off at me, breaking my trance. This was a definite attack, as it was off within five minutes, and there were no firemen or firetrucks here on the premises to disarm it, so it had to be generated by the HA or somebody who is all part of the conspiracy of driving me mad and never “GIVING ME A MOMENTS' OEACE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, AGENT CONDOR AND AGENT FALCON, OF WPIX CHANNEL ELEVEN (11), NEW YORK CITY TELEVISION STATION, QUOTED DIRECTLY FROM THEIR 1988 DOCUMENTARY CALLED, UFO-THE COVER-UP”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The big news, is that I have huge proof that I am taking over to the sheriff of my county, that someone is making my life hell, so the fur is about to fucking fly. It is electronic evidence and proof that my rights under the UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION are being not only viciously violated and my civil rights trampled upon, but shows the who-what-when-why details of many things, so soon, very soon my fucking friends, lots of heads will roll, and this EVIL EMPIRE will be sorry. I have proof that I am under illegal surveillance, as well as electronic attacks that destroy all of my property, injure my physical health, and even block any radio stations from being received, and here I am up here on the 6th fl;oor, high above all the other peeps around me who tell me that they can receive and enjoy the Vero Beach Christmas Station, while my right to enjoy this music and festive season is being eviscerated.

No great Sarah-Stacey, I do not indeed, because you have played your endless silly teenaged games with me, so if you are looking for an argument from THAT-BOY, about what you said to me on VI, forget it SWEET-TEA, as we are in total agreement. I know about as much about you and what you are up to with me, as I know the insides of the arteries of Pope Benny-16!!!!

END TRANNY, SWEET LOVELY BUTT-WIPING GRANNY, WHAAAAAAAAAA!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesoniCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC:

IF YOU DO NOT SCAN, ATTACK, AND DESTROY MY HORRENDOUS ENEMIES, THIS PLANET WILL BLOW UP INTO TINY PEBBLES!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0283

2011-12-05T17:43:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0283
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“A SIMPLER THAN EINSTEIN FORMULA, EW=ALOE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2011
WORLD LABORATORIES DATE AND TIME FILE:
CH-0283-120511.657.1111111111111111111111111111
HELLO THERE, JANE BITCH SLEAZE STARWALKER OF NON 1896
(THESE WORDS ARE LEGALLY SWORN TO TRUTHS,
UNDER SELF PROCLAIMED PENALTIES FOR LIBLE AND OR PERJURY)
“MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY” ACCORDING
TO MIGHTY GOD GOOGLE

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

So far today, I have had two major UTILITY ASSAULTS, covertly and illegally fucking perpetrated against me, WHERE ARE YOU FCC ROBERT MCDOWELL, OLD HADDONFIELD SCHOOL CHUM. Mister Mackey said you would grow up and be a man, so would you please step up to the plate now and help me, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! On top of this, planes all day have been buzzing around, their evil cheated DOW JONES STOCK MARKET just as I predicted and TOLD YOU GINA, flew way up for another MONDAY AND WEEK OF BULLISH SOARING, my hallway screamer scum bag neighbors are nut case monsters, it is getting worse and worse, somebody is putting all these diseased monsters up to all of this, and I KNOW IT IS DONALD JOHN BASSLER SCUMBALL TRUMP JUNIOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is no way it is my dirt ball son in law, as he stopped taking over my computer a couple months ago at the same time that he went into MCD (DOGHOUSE) for his infidelity. I do not believe he is in any position to fuck with me while in the doghouse right now. That leaves President Hopeful the clown buffoon. Only somebody with enormous mother fucking wealth and power can be pulling all of this off. Also, right before the closing fucking bell on Wall Street, I took another loud horrific FIRE ALARM ATTACK at the building here. I never ever would have fucking moved into this hell if I had known all of this mother fucking shit about this nightmare horror show. When things get this bad, other things eventually follow, they cannot fail, it is a powerful mother fucking parallel event. PUSSY COMMAND will be starting up soon, huge ultra monster fucking time, unless this backs off a little bit, I'LL FUCKING PROMISE YOU ALL THAT!!!!!! Also, major fucking klutz out shit is starting and will only grow fucking exponentially worse as this progresses without fucking let up or mercy. Before I started this blog, the shouting in the hallway went on for half an hour or so with these nut case butt wipes next door. It is only a matter of fucking time before monster stereo man kicks in from next door. If it were not for an empty stairwell on the opposite side, I would be totally, fully, absolutely, and completely FUCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Right after that, I went to move on my bed and forgot that I had a glass of cunt eating grape juice on the floor, and I kicked the stupid fucking thing over and spilled it all over my orange throw rug, and had to quickly get hot soapy water and a rag, and whatever muscle I could muster up; and scrub like a fucking trapped animal, in a Roddenberry menagerie from the middle sixties.

Work was hard and hell today. I worked like a fucking jack hammer highway worker in an Arizona July desert void of water or shade. The meeting that gets me off my feet for a short time that breaks up the day, was for whatever reason, just suddenly canceled, and I worked my mother fucking ass hole fucking off, from the minute I arrived, until I clocked the fucking shit out of there. As I said, it is now a matter of time, before some luscious fucking pussy just throws herself at me, and this time brother, I'll fucking take advantage of the situation, unlike the thousands of times in the past when I pull a fucking Nancy Reagan on the slut. Once this happens, it will be the total demise of this EVIL EMPIRE, and the other 99 will get their chance, finally; to live in the land of relative freedom, freedom from the oppression of the powerful , I will abbreviate this to (FFOP). Pronounce it EFFOP if you like, I'll be using the word.

The first utility attack was the telephone when they illegally cut into my line and cut me off from the system when my bills are paid and up to date. They do this intentionally when I am in a trance with the lightning goddess DIANA, as it has a tendency to cause major fucking shit. Four summers ago on June 21st in oh-Marola-eight, they did this, and I ended up all over the place, or it could have been the next huge interaction that resulted after this, I am not sure right now, but remember the date of August 22, just a week shy of the official Stockholm Syndrome kidnapping of me by members of the greatest family in the world, be it distant and poor branches of it or not. To pull off a great con scam job, you do not do the obvious. If MC herself had done all of this directly for example, who wouldn't believe it then? It always goes back to the great Levi March on the LAW & Order episode with the GRIFFIN.

Well, since they (THE WOMO GARBAGE) won't back this off one tiny fucking iota, we will now talk a bit more about the great and mighty and
quite illustrious HADDONWOOD SWIM AND HEALTH CLUB, that went the way of Gerard Stiles and Dark Shadows, and Collinwood, right down to the times and years. All fans of the hit 60's television soap show of Gothic morbidity, know perfectly clearly and well, Mister Nixon, Mrs. Nixon, and everybody freaking else; that this is beyond outlandish and just too weird to be true as far as all of it being some gigantic mother fucking coincidence, YO folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gimme a dam break. What you do not have a clue about unless you are Steve Hawking, is that we all are a larger 'personality' in and from, a lighter, and virtually gravitation-less higher plane or realm. Now you must begin by knowing a powerful fucking secret peeps, and that is that LIGHT is the reflection of TIME. My daughter told me this before she was born, in a powerful vision, and reminded me of this all over again about 3.5 years ago, during my last months of residing in my Mullica Township, New Jersey trailer at Jenny Plageman's trailer park of HELLHORRORS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now this larger self dreams down into a hyperspace, or a trillion to the power of trillions, of parallel universes, where pieces of our total selves, all exist and live in separate lives. The science of Quantum Mechanics and or Physics, attempts to unravel lots of shit pertaining to this, and in some ways succeeds quite well, and in others, it simply fails miserably and totally. Still this science is young and new, and beginning to learn the strange forces in the world of the Quantum, as well as the way certain smaller things operate in an entirely set of laws than we can begin as of yet to start understanding and or appreciating. Here I am preaching all of this shit to the blog worlds of cyberspace, and it is me that needs to hear and have these concepts reflected back at me. Human life tends to make us forget what we totally remember. When certain doors are opened and walked through, life cannot ever go back again. You may think you are walking back out of the room, when all that really is happening is that you are walking into an illusion. You cannot walk both ways through subatomic doors. I am being figurative peeps in my words here, but it does give a bang up illustration, so I will say these things. If any one reading this, could see for five seconds, and hold their attention that long, on what I totally know, and thus would be existing in a truer fifth dimensional reality; it is doubtful, you could ever shed off the two dimensions you experienced for those tiny little five seconds, and thus, you would become like I am, trapped in hyperspace, and with awareness to this truth. This makes me and all of you as different as train and an elephant. This is just truth, nothing more, and with no hidden implications or meanings within these symbols either.
The owners of this world, the wealthiest families, know completely, that I have stumbled onto gargantuan dangerous fucking shit over the past thirty-five years or so, and that it is growing quantitatively, and beyond and independent of my control. They also know, unless they are swallowing stupidity pills, like kids eating Ecstasy tablets at some wild NYC party club; that this is why quantum fitting has placed a lot of stuff together in the way that it has, and obviously has plans far beyond my limited horizons to even begin to venture a guess with any real hope of honest accuracy.

If something begins vibrating, the faster it goes, the more atomic friction or rubbing occurs, and the first observable bi-product of this is HEAT. As this intensifies, the next one is LIGHT. Beyond this comes all kinds of assortments of cosmic rays. As things go faster, they get hotter, brighter, and normally in post-atomic-size worlds, grow smaller. Other forces exist however that cause the opposite of this as far as size is concerned, and because of an unknown secret of up-line and down-line connective-ness below the mind realm or the 6th dimension. Many of today's scientists still wonder about open and closed cosmos based on the 2.7 degree kelvin average temperature, total matter per cubic centimeter, and many other factors all connected with this that need not be addressed right now. The hypersphere is a simple concept. Take a board and make it longer and longer, and eventually, it bends down on its two ends under its own weight. No straight line can endlessly not eventually bend down and come around full circle, literally. Both space as well as motion intertwine in special and amazing ways. Looking at the cosmos from outside and beyond, it would look like a sphere, a big basketball of a sort. But the ball is moving. This causes many things to all become real. Many formulas show that an open end system will make time start all over again. This is a very simplified way of putting some math formulas into converted English language nomenclature. Put another way, those who think of a big-bang-beginning of time, never see that this is the exact sameness as the end of time from the past cycle. So if time is so many years total, then how many cycles are there? Well, this is what you will not easily grasp. There is no beginning or ending of this loop because it is compressed into a dimension where outside of it is the higher dimension that thought its way into the game it created and is playing, really, us, and what we are playing, and distracting, from the pure hell of existing. Since there are an infinite amount of non-existers, and a finite space-time-mind dimension in six dimensions, there simply is no more room for any more non-existors, so those who exist, just exist, and this concept was somehow figured out and known by the Roddenberry team after Gene passed or woke up really, and I'm speaking of the movie “Deep Space Nine”, from which many offshoot television shows spawned out of. But how does this super compressed and abridged little lesson from 2100 or really, then; '88-2', on Jewelly White's Mayan Calendar or (JWMC), relate to Haddonwood Swim Club and 1996, when it forever closed down, overnight? Many rumors have circulated around about all of this, and I have told a few things on numerous previous blogs. Well, the Quantum World is what human science perceives when observing and experimenting, but in fact, it is all there because of the upline-downline system that is part of a gigantic THOUGHT in the 6th dimension. In 2007, I talked about a strange place containing 12 elevators, 3 of them on four sides of a room, all together in the center part along each of the walls. Each elevator has controls inside of them, called TRINITRAIL CONTROL. Every 60 degrees along a circle is a point of a trinitrail line. Move the intersection of a normal “X” closer together and simply add in another perfectly aligned line through it, the asterisk, ******. Now count the ends of the asterisk made here. Then look at your keyboard. It prints out only five, not six, yet the key shows the full six pointed system intersecting, the triple-X, and just why this discrepancy exists, I cannot in good conscience tell you. I will speculate however, that it is there just so I can further show the power and awesome mystery behind this triple-X. This is the same parlor trick that the quantum worlds used to get the word “MI” to be on the start of the song called, “Real Good Girl” from 1986, that I wrote and copyrighted on the 15th day of August. Who put the floppy disk virus into the fort Pierce Public Library System, so that many times, the word 'ButButButButBut' would keep coming out without even typing anything, it is all up on older blogs from 2010, at www.blogger.com/. I had not yet seen the movie MC was staring in at that time in the spring of 2010, called, “Precious”, but if you get it, and it was done in late 2009; the scene where the fight in the special-ed-school erupts, suddenly has the word “BUT” come out real loud, and out of place. Then my dad had a favorite expression that he used a lot in 1975 while we were living in Lindenwold, New Jersey at the same apartment complex where today in a new name, was right next to the complex where I dated Helen Zebriski in 1999, and had the experience of a lifetime that night we stayed overnight at the Sands Casino, with Sarah Callio's in law parents, the Martino's, at the Blue Parrot Club. This expression that my dad used, was, “Fuck this shit”. If you get a movie called, “12 Angry Men”, and carefully listen to the soundtrack on it, right after the man with the accent wants to change his verdict from guilty to not guilty, and he says 'BEG PARDON', listen and you will distinctly hear the man who complains a lot throughout the show, say, and in the days where a black and white Henry Fonda movie would strictly prohibit this language, “FUCK THIS SHIT”. None of these things just happened, and are all things that the sixth dimension is behind and controlling, for reasons none other than a gigantic game called Ultimate Distraction. What is being distracted from is the fact that existers must exist. It is that simple, just as Red John would put it so well, from Campbell's Soup to Colorado. Now in like manner, this entire deal with SSJK, is a game of distraction. I had no idea who Mister Krassle was in the Haddonwood days. It was in the following years that came right after this era, that I came to learn all about it. I can only safely blog this much today. I made friends with a dude who resembled JJ Evans father's father, on the television sitcom show called, “Good Times” from the seventies, and we would hang out and talk from time to time, at the deep south end of the indoor swimming pool. He told me that I would not be able to stay on the bottom of the pool if I did a special trick with my mind. When I did it, he was right, and I could not stay submerged. Then he told me that I would have a powerful dream that night that it was several years ago and I was on a raft with a friend of mine, and that I should try the same trick when we are trapped by a powerful bay current in the Tuckerton Bay. I tried remembering the event that I knew happened, and until the dream came and went, it remained a blur. However, I went onto tell him the next time we ran into each other, that I experienced an evental time warp, and he laughed and said it is all a trick. Then he asked me what I remembered about experiencing a boat ride that kept repeating itself. Instantly, I remembered a powerful thing from 1986, when David Roth and myself were on Long Beach Island, and indeed, the boat sank, and I died, and then I woke up and it started all over again, over and over. He said that in many other realms of the mind, it is still going on, even though in any one realm, it happens but once. Then he chuckled and talked about compressed boxium and told me how someday when things all weigh next to nothing, hurling ourselves to the stars will be as easy as pie. I just gave him a ling vacant stare. More will be told later. Right now, this incredible dude is behind all that has happened to me for the past 16 years, as it was after he did one huge thing, that my sudden desire to find a seemingly magical teenaged girl from my past, was kindled into a flame throwing rocket, and totally out of control and irresistible, altering my life as I knew it, forever. In 2008, he came back to me again, at a cigar store on the White Horse Pike, in the blueberry capitol of the world, Hammonton, New Jersey, USAESMWG.

********BLOG ENDS********

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0282

2011-12-05T13:03:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0282
DATFILE: 120511.656 WORLD LABS OF 2295
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Loud small planes are around, I have seen it worse. I knew last night around 2 or 3 in the morning, they were not done with me, as this fucking attack is about as fucking cock sucking relentless as I've seen in 25 fucking ass years now. I was talking to Diana over the phone, and they illegally cut in and cut me off. This leaves me with a dead circuit line, until eventually, they allow the line to come back again. If they did not, I would simply not pay my AT&T bill, as even this twisted fucking disease cannot have things both ways all the time, no matter how much they think that they mother fucking can, YO.

I talk about solid helium on other blogs, and skytorcycles that I have ridden over Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, or will ride as JOJO, but I do not tell the details of why the great Colaman came to HADDONWOOD CLUB in the middle nineties.

When things come out in detail, right down to who really owns the networks, and I break down how none of these things are imagined or coincidental, JUASON SCUMMER; then and only then will I be either dead, or on my way into court for an all out battle with WOMO. It is you or me bastards, and prisoners have stopped being taken, if they ever were, a long time ago, by bothy sides of this horrendous battle, that even the BIBLER describes, only no one yet, Dr. Camping included, has really even come close to figuring it out. Only Mini-Great Jewelly knows, and this mighty Type-3-EXPLORATRON is more than some pathetic somnambulist, believe me folks. This story does not start in 1969 or 1954, it begins with the stars, the real ones that glitter at night, huh Sarah-Stacey Krassle, my endless TQ love? When I tie it all up this week if this does not stop, this world will be on its way into as hell that will lead to the end of mankind as he now knows it too be, and the ushering in of a new calendar and a new year one, the JEWELLY calendar. As I type this, the fire alarm just went off here. It is every mother fucking day, this is beyond unspeakable, and before it all is over, I may well be in jail, and some of you cunt lappers may be dead in the fucking ground, so tell them all how yo0ur lovely daughter told me that last day, that you are not my buddy, AKS.

END TRANNY, OLD GRANNY.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0281

2011-12-04T11:35:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0281
world laboratories of 2296
SUNDAY AFTERNOON, 12:42 PM-EST
DECEMBER 4, 2011, MY 57TH BOTBAR FUCKING BIRTHDAY
OFFICIAL RESIDENT OF HELL, AS PER JAMES EARL CARTER
FROM THE YEAR 1986 IN MIDDLE AUGUST
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“WHY JIMMY WHY, UPDATED VERSION”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011 ©

STARTING BLOG:

Monster Music Man next door, woke me again, blaring his horrific loud rotten-neighbor music at me, ruining my entire fucking birthday. There is no way to have peace and cunt lapping quiet in this world. Music is so loved by people, personally, I fucking hate it. I hate it when I am somewhere and a radio or something is playing, and some amateur begins to sing along, totally believing they are either Pavarotti or Carey. If they were, that is one thing; but if not, can't you please save it for your shower room while scrubbing up, and do us all a fucking favor. This jerk off next door is old and either hard of hearing, or like most peeps today, just love to blare away and wreck the only two ears that they were born with, believing wither they are indestructible, or that they live 90 years from now where even full ears and eyes are directly transplantable into the brain without any nerve complications.

I asked Gawky Gaukauk just why all of a sudden this neighbor is driving me up a wall and what and who is behind it, by drawing 72 paying cards, eight suits from two decks, containing all cards from aces through nines. The great black cat said the reason for this new hell and misery in my life, is number PCN-781. Now let us talk about this and a lot of other major mother fucking crap as well folks.

I am imagining none of this 57 years of Doctor Feet and his hell, who? No, that is the guy in the telephone booth with the Donald, exchanging phony weaves, dreams, and comfortable shoe insoles. But yes peeps, the other day, I asked this mighty black cat a question on why that horrific day of the 23rd of November was forced on me by these fucking ass monsters, and yes; the answer was again, PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER (PCN)-781. Today, before I began this blog of SJ-CH-0281, again, I drew the two cards that produce the PCN-ROOT DIGITS, these being the 7 and then the 8. The PCN is the difference between these root digits, if any Doctor, and using this digit as the 3rd one, creating a PCN or ROOT DIGITS 78 becomes PCN-781. My root digits are 87 for example, Donald Trump has root digits 23, and so forth. You must use your exact birth given first and last names to get your life-long PERSONAL PCN. By the way, you cannot exact the GAWNUM the same question, unless it pertains to different potential answers because it is asked at different times during ones life. Other than that exception, only once counts; and thus after that, you will get false answers. Do not try getting the GAWNUM to be your genie and give you yeas and no responses. It is designed as a mighty story telling systems of comparisons and matching's; & not to tell you in a direct question, if Johnny Marshmallow should marry Toni-Louise Macbeth. It is designed to bring a new skill to a user, and this being, learning how to figure things around a query, then by varying the words or phrases of query, they can match up PCN-number results to a second half, such as, “My boss is acting totally weird with me because he found out that I...” The dot-dot-dot are numerous possible things you may be wondering and worrying about, and they also all have their own PCN's, when figured out. Then your master PCN of the sentence with your boss is compared GAWNUMLY with numerous other PCN sentences until you start super sleuthing around and get matching answers. It is not six year old stuff, but it is addictive and also fun and entertaining as hell. It is totally real, and it totally works. Anyone thinking this is not so, needs further education on this exact science. I will tell more and more as time and persecution on this off the scales attack, continues to march fucking on to this demonic evil drumbeat. Now I had no particular blog planned out for this weekend, and really was fucking hoping to catch a break, but the WOMO is making me about as miserable as can be conceived, and is responsible for my first degree premeditated murder. It is official that I said I cannot take much more and will need to take my life, sop if this happens, these peeps all need to go to MOTHERFUCKING PRISON FOR THE REST OF THEIR DIRTY FILTHY TWISTED DISEASED LIVES, TO ROT AND SUFFER; JUST AS THEY CAUSED ME TO, for pushing 30 years or so now!!!! I noticed two other pretty much inescapable bullshit coincidences recently. The minute I say that Donald Trump will be president over my non breathing body, he pops up on his dirt bag owned and mobbed up NBC-NETWORK, floozies and all; and fairy god mother news bells; aha-aha-aha, Michele-1980 & family; he decided all over again that he will run, and then began all this persecution on me, as he is been behind the usage of this ICPE tool, ever since I told his peeps at his casino in the summer time of the year 1986, that I use PARALLEL EVENT SYSTEM, to beat the game of roulette, and this would piss off any fucking casino owner, like DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!You cannot say that if you start with this blog, and read backwards, that I DO NOT HAVE PLENTY OF PROOF THAT BACKS UP MY WORDS HERE, FOLKS, NOT UNLESS YOU WANT THE AWARD OF THE DECADE FOR BEING AN ASS AND A MORON, THAT IS.

Well Gawky, despite many uncertainty's in this old sick world, “God's Dog” may have visited “Babylon”, and not in his doggie form, until he was old enough to do a Nancy Reagan, and just say NO to my dear wonderful sweet mom who took a vicious secret to the grave. But still, this “Prophet of Nothing” from “July twelve, nineteen-seventy” a few years back at that time; did not then know that these four things were all PCN-781, shown above in double-quotation. I have a listing matchbook of a dozen or more other less important things, but for now, these four need to be talked about, as something contained in one all any combination or all of them, is causing this real bad hell, according the magic cat of Copyrighted Halloween Day. I am not trying to win power-balls, that is your thing, MIZZ PAULA UWICH!!!!!!!

This is what is causing this neighbor to blare my wall down every day now without fucking mercy, perhaps at Trump's or Nick's behest, but since I have only what detectives call SOLID MOTIVE, I do not have any court evidence to this effect, so I blog out, maybe at their behest. If you see two mean looking kids in a park, you just got there and they are leaving. One is crying and more bloody and dirty than the other one, but you saw nothing, you can solidly speculate that these boys had been fighting since nobody else is around. But you cannot swear in court, one other thing other than this. None of us would have it any other way, it is to easy to get framed and innocently go off to fucking prison. Many guilty's are out walkin' and talkin', while the innocent's are all locked away inside. As I said to Paula, and some others, Regis sir, dog roofs and radio stations all notwithstanding, “BE CAREFUL”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is good for the goose, you know. I have nothing against the American Criminal Justice System, except for when it doesn't work, which is quite often. IN MY CASE, IT NEVER DOES, AND NEVER HAS.

Let me quickly get into the song from 1988 that I Copyrighted and wrote from my home in Moorestown, NJUSAESMWG, a mile or so away from the home of baseball giant, Mitch Williams, AKA Mister World Series Gamethrow. I know he honestly tried his best, but some were ready in 1993, to shoot the poor devil. Bu7t baseball, at least not at this precise second, is not the topic at hand folks. The song was what led to the project sent down for copyright, called “THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT”. This is why since the middle of the past decade, my blogs on the web are titled this, along with the additional, “INTERNET VERSION”, LIKE DUHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dave and I had taken a trip in the first week in August back a couple of years, in 1986, one night, into New York City. He wanted to go to some club, and see some friends of his, a musical group called “New Shoes”. I could not handle Saturday night traffic in this incredible city so he took the wheel and parked us a few blocks from the club, as he was not able to find a spot closer than this. I relaxed in the passenger seat for close to an hour while he was inside this club, doing whatever he was doing. As soon as he rounded a corner block, along came a girl crossing from my right to my left, and I could not take my eyes off of this tall teenaged curly haired cutie pie. I admit I was pushing 32 and that she was half my age, but the statute of limitations will run out on what I did with her on the 2nd of August, back in 1993. I believe laws have altered, but grandfathers rights in more ways than one, keep me from seeing the inside of a prison. She told me that her feet hurt as she came around to the driver side of the parked car, and peered in at me, cautiously but confidently. I told her my friend is in the club down the street seeing his pals the New Shoes group. She smiled and asked if she could sit inside and get off of her feet. She removed her shoes and left me instantly wishing she had not, pretty as her feet were. Until 2008 ran around, I thought of this night only a few times ever, and remembered little detail. I know we had a little fun, not the only time I had fun in a car during this period in my life, and yes, with the under-aged, as I was going through the normal middle life crises, that went onto worsen ten to twenty years later, until I began blogging and telling my life story, which had quite a therapeutic effect, and calmed me down like a bottle of Ativan tablets. I thought her name was Maria Kelly, and thought no more of this fuzzy memory, other than to write a very mean song about the experience and copyright it on August 15th, in 1986, a couple weeks after the night in the city, called, “Real Good Girl”. Before she exited the vehicle as I had seen David coming back from the club towards the car; she heard some female artist playing on my car stereo, and had noticed my tape recorder in the back seat with a cassette all ready loaded into it, as I was keeping a life journal of things happening to me. She turned the music way up, and literally blew the poor artist, whoever it was, right out of the water, with a voice like nothing I had ever heard or imagined in my wildest mind. In the few minutes before David had been seen walking towards us from quite a distance, and there was a very bright advertising light right where he was walking past and easy to spot. She had asked me if she could have the tape, and I said that I needed it because it had stuff on it on the flip side, personal conversations with a man named Shorty MacInvondi. She giggled at his name and never knew it was a made up name and used for purposes of electronic metaphysics, unlike Donna Summer Jason, who knows all this so well, at least now, but she knew it then, and was convinced early in the eighties that I was sending magical signals to her, because I used a fast erase button that caused a bias playback high oscillating tone to be audible with good speakers, and she admitted it in her 1982 album. Anyway, I really liked this curly haired girl and we exchanged phone numbers, but I threw hers away near the Lincoln tunnel, as she would have ended up putting me on Rikers Island eventually. I had no idea at all, that SR would be the only charge against me if PK pressed charges on me, as she knew stuff that I did not. She insisted on having the tape, and even though I told her I could not give it to her, she faked out like she was putting the recorder back in the back seat, as it was attached by a short rope, around the seat head rest of the passenger front seat. She lifted the tape, as when I got home it was gone. I never heard anything like her voice, it was straight from the heavens.

None of this by itself is all that amazing as far as PCN-781, but when you factor in other things, watch this all widen out. July 12, 1970 was the last NIGHT, and the only NIGHT, that Sarah's great gang called the Atlantic City QM, standing for Quoddy Mockers, was ever seen by me. They knew me and liked me a lot, they all called me THAT-BOY, and never knew my name. Cousin (SANDY) Sandra Shah Snowhite, of Narberth, PAUSAESMWG; told them my name, but they all insisted on calling me, THAT-BOY. I lied about seeing SARAH herself, the only lie ever told on MORIANITY, but enough to place my good name and credibility into question, unfortunately. It gets a lot better still so do not faint out on me yet peeps, please. Nightmares that recurred all through the late eighties and nineties of the past century, haunted me in series of ominous and outlandish vividly colorful dreams of groups and groups of huge air balloons. The girl running the entire thing that was going on, was always the same; and her name was Patty Lang. This name, Paula King, and many others, is one powerful entity and personality by the name Later I realized I had worked with a girl by this name at the recording studio and had totally put this out of my conscious mind from 1979-1981 until I quit on March the eleventh. Her husband was a commercial airlines pilot. They commuted from a place right near the Delaware Memorial Bridge, one hell of a spurious long commute to both of their jobs. Photos of air balloons were both on her hand bag at the studio, as well as a stick or peel on, where she was given permission to place. on the main duplicator machine near the master system; connected to the group of 10 or so electronic-slaves or “duplicators” both accepted terms in the recording business of those days, and I saw these balloons every night at work. This led to those nightmares beginning after I met and did the unspeakable with my own daughter, regarding balloons and Patty. As for God's Dog, our Midge at the Judge's place in Hammonton Berryville, Frank Raso; owner of the rooming-house, before I had been talked into moving in with these distant cousins of my kid; was the most adorable dog I ever met. Add got rid of poor little Midge because she had attacked and killed one of her [precious Cockateel birds. Spell fucking checker is no help whatsoever and I know the species of that bird type is misspelled, so no comments please, tell MICROSUCKS to improve their rotten spellchecker system. THANK-YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know for almost certain, Dawn-Marie called her distant cuzz MC, and sent her a pix. Right after this, she got the same dog. I could be wrong but feel that I am not. The empire ruler knows that on the Astral Plane, I can indeed talk, and that she is endlessly age sixteen out in her wonderful city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. This is why I ended up seeing her cool commercial on television that day with the treadmill.

I had my friend at the Indian River State College (IRSC) here in South Florida, run just a few things like this as mathematical odds for happening all just by random chance. He told me it would be trillions if not quadrillions to one against this all being just coincidental. I believe him. Do any of you? This is a tenured professor, not a disabled nutcase certified by the psychiatric profession as a life-long whack-job. Then there is Babylon and all its yacht clubs, banker uncles, astral trips, and balloon bank payments. This is where I was forced to go and visit these rotten and snooty relatives of mine, and was put to work like a slave, either in the yard or on that rotten boat that he loved to take out sailing around LI Sound every freaking summer, with his pal MISTER JIMMY DEAN, and his daughter Christine, who I hear in 1975, got as bit hot and heavy, oh well, who am I to talk, after that night with my own daughter in 1986? I wonder how far I was from Rikers Island. I suppose as close as the nearest cop, oh well, fortune favors the foolish, huh William Whales Shatner????????????????????????????

When I talked a dozen blogs or so back about comparing PCN-550 with PCN-550, the reason it fucked up, is my error folks, for those who fucking caught this, sorry. It was December, two-thousand-nine, but I typed into the blog 2010, my error, oh well Bruce Allen Pennock of 1973, NOBODY'S PERFECT, not even Mini Great Jewelly, or Mini Great Ripperton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So sahwee Ambassador Bomb of December the seventh, in 1941, kind sir. Watch the audio volume. Hell my next door nut case nabe would wipe out Fort Pierce with that song I sent down there in 1983, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.

MAGNESONIC, KICK IN OR I WILL FUCKING KICK FUCKING ASS, YO!!!!

ENDING BLOG:

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0280

2011-12-03T21:46:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0280
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:

In my discussions of this nightmare that I have been going through with the PARALLEL EVENT and the evil vile filthy monstrous WOMO, I have not recently told how a lot more than just the DOW JONES STOCKS, are part of this. So are the PHILADELPHIA SPORTS TEAMS, and it is all blogged about, all through many blogs in 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010. HURTING ME via persecution and constant continual covert harassment, causes the following parallel events to happen, way beyond any normal odds of non propensity.

DOW JONES STOCK MARKETS GO UP.
PHILADELPHIA FLYERS WIN.
PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES LOSE.
PHILADELPHIA EAGLES LOSE.
PHILADELPHIA 76ERS LOSE.

When I am left alone by the WOMO-ENEMY, or when things go good for me in any way, then the reverse goes on a preponderance for occurrence. This means that when things get better for me that the:

DOW JONES STOCK MARKETS GO DOWN.
PHILADELPHIA FLYERS LOSE.
PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES WIN.
PHILADELPHIA EAGLES WIN.
PHILADELPHIA 76ERS WIN.

The nightmare around me is 99% wrapped up in the paragraph above. The dirt bag cheating FLYERS won back to back games, tonight and last night, and all because of this death siege on me that is worse than anything I have seen in perhaps my entire life, as I am thinking seriously of committing suicide every minute of the day. That is one way to know you are not imaging how mother fucking bad things are against you, believe me folks. Also, last night, the EAGLES were destroyed. FLYERS WIN/WIN, and EAGLES LOSE; and the stock market was up thousands of points last week. ALL OF THIS WAS SAID AND TOTALLY PREDICTED BY ME, AM I RIGHT OR NOT, GIANT GINA; MY LOVELY ARM BREAKER OF THE NINETEEN-NINETIES? Just as you said to me many times when we arm wrestled and you said you would pin me within a second or two, and after you slammed me down, you giant beautiful goddess you, “TOLD YOU”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WELL GINA, NOW I WILL TELL MY BLOGAUD (Blogging Audience). Yes folks, TOLD-UUUU this would all happen. This is the helliday-holiday, and the worst one I get as far as this annual siege is concerned, or THANKSGIVING. The Holiday may be officially over, but shit with this disease against me, begins ahead of the great THURSDAY each year; and it sure as fucking bullshit hell-fire goes beyond this day as well. My WOMO enemy loves to attack my innocent and pathetic little miserable fucking life on EVERY SINGLE FUCKING HOLIDAY HELLIDAY. For new readers, 'WOMO' stands for, WORLD OWNER MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES.

WOMO enemies have 'magically' broken my equalizer on my stereo. This is how THIS DIRT FILTH got their way with all of this, PROPERTY DAMAGE causes major EVIL EMPIRE as listed above with the various parallel event situations, or ICPE WEAPONRY. Merging both damaging my property with all of the other persecutions, noise, aerial, PAWM-PIE-ETTOS, or making people at work, as well as, all around my interaction; nasty with me, and hate me for no reason whatsoever. The list is endless, but you get the general drift of this lesson, hopefully, and whether you believe me or not is not important, or even read it, as getting it out to the world ELECTRONICALLY, is the power that really counts behind this, nothing else, YO. I know that MAGNESONIC is one and the same thing with me placing these words on blog websites, and it will only tolerate so much unfair hell perpetrated on me, and finally and eventually, gigantic earthquakes will rip shit apart all over the world, along with volcanoes spewing death and ash all over, tidal waves, storms, droughts, and all manner of retaliatory strikes against this EVIL EMPIRE.

On top of the property damage, these jerk offs next door blasted their music most of the day today. This is all something that began right after the computer key-worm virus somehow ended, and I no longer get my clock changed back to Pacific Time, or my IP-address turned to an address on 36th Avenue in San Mateo, California. This all stopped a couple months ago, and never resumed. Then Ann to0ld me it all happened the same time that Ding-man was put in the doghouse for cheating on MC with his Nickelodeon Nicky-teens. This all times out together with my being taken into an office and given lots of crazy shit, and told I could no longer talk to the parent-child counselor from 2:15-2:30 PM-EST on Wednesdays. I never started this, it was forced on me by a lady at the harvest named Linda. She twisted my arm to talk to him. Remember folks, things are always done to me, then it is always my fucking fault, I should be totally fucking used to this by now, but I cannot get used to unfair treatment despite having it applied against me for precisely 57 years, as this is my birthday today, 12/04. Still, if this was the only weird wild thing that happened in 2011 or in any other prior year as well, for that fucking matter; I would give an arm, a leg, an eye, an ear, and all of my rotting teeth. Dawn was struck with that old TOOTHACHE-MAJOR button, just as I am, back at the two residences where they had me kidnapped under Stockholm Syndrome, and by the way, I swear this is all true and real under all and any legal penalties for perjury and or libel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Take me to fucking court. As for JC PENNEY, they have, I owe them money and cannot afford to pay it right now and must tell a judge this later this month. I fully intend to make good on all my debts when I can but first I need to go to work overseas and work private non-military security, and get as fat ass paycheck and get the mother fucking hell of this stupid disability, the worst mistake I ever made, going on it in the first place, forever putting my fucking credibility down the mother fucking ass toilet, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Poison in the sky has made me cough and sneeze, have a nasty sore Grant Avenue Copyrighted throat, and many other flu-like symptoms. Elect you Donnie? Are you serious my friend. I might have a dry throat from CHEMTRAILS, and magic tricks out the ass, but I really do not think America wants to entrust the top dog job to a dude who believes I can physically travel in time, because of a lousy song I sent early in 1981 to the US © Office. You are a total buffoon my friend, but should you get close; then I will be forced to send to the entire press, total proof, that you did several things to me; and that you personally believe this silliness about me. IT IS ALL PARLOR TRICKS, you need to talk to Patty Jane, bud!!! I think you convinced my daughter this nonsense,m and it is not like her to believe in silly nonsense. My car might get up to 110 on the highway if the wind is not against me, that is miles per hour, not second. Time is moving very fast. To equal it so that it would appear to be standing still, you need to catch time at about 186,282 miles per second. To make it reverse back behind you, you need to get up around 34 billion, seven hundred million miles per second. IT WAS ALL A TRICK, DUMB-DUMB, learn to laugh, take a lesson from another tower crook, and don't both ride the same elevator without first checking out the weight capacity. You really do not think I know some stuff, this amazes me. I have lots of spare time on my hands, and necessity is indeed the biological mother of invention. See if Richard Marcucci agrees with that one, Donnie boy, and watch the wind.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM----NO----I do not need to keep doing that. Sooner or later, just as love will get us all, or so says the great RIAA, so will Maggie. It will definitely only tolerate so much evil shit done to me, and then one day while you all sleep and party or whatever you may be doing, BING-BANG-BOOM, and good night to the fucking nurses, right John McDowell Onechance????????????BYE-BYE butt-wipes of America, & say hello to the meteors soon.

One more thing I will say folks. I despise certain peeps who have injured me and my peeps very badly. Most people would have murdered them by now, but NOBODY is worth going to jail over, and if your dam ego can tolerate this, not even you, MISTER TOWERWIGGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END OF BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0279

2011-12-02T12:41:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0279
FRIDAY AFTERNOON @ 1:24 PM-EST
DECEMBER SECOND, TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN
COPYRIGHTED MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS © 2006-2011
ALL WORDS SPOKEN ON ALL OF MY ENTIRE COLLECTION
OF BLOGS FOR 6-7 YEARS OF TIME NOW, I HEREBY
ABSOLUTELY SWEAR AND AFFIRM, ARE TRUE AND
ACCURATE TO THE VERY BEST OF MY ABILITY, WITH THE
OCASSIONAL LIMITED AMOUNT OF INCLUDED HERESAY
THAT IS TOLD AS HERESAY AND TOLD IS NOT FULLY A
DOCUMENTED FACT, BUT IS STILL A TRUE STATEMENT OF
MY BEING REVEALED CERTAIN INFORMATION, BY
WHATEVER MEANS IS TOLD WAS ITS SOURCE ON THAT
PARTICULAR SAID BLOGGING WORK.

THIS WORK CURRENTLY IS IN A SERIES OF BLOGS CALLED MOUNTAINPEN'S “SAFE JOURNAL”, THIS IS A CHAPTER WITHIN THIS GROUPING, AND THIS IS CHAPTER #0279.

THREE OTHER SUBTITLES THAT 'SAFE JOURNAL' DERIVES OUT OF, ALSO IMNLUDE:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

MANY BLOGS INCLUDE A N ADDIOTIONAL SUBTITLE THAT DIFFERS FROM THE STANDARD ALL READY THREE LISTED ABOVE. THIS IS THE FOURTH SUBTITLE, AND HAS VARYING NAMES. THIS BLOG HAS NO 4TH SUBTITLE.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

My mother fucking rotten neighbors are continually disturbing me with many loud noises. After-all, I live in a ghetto housing project, and this is to be expected. Today, around twenty minutes or so shy of one this afternoon, MISTER MONSTER STEREO MAN next door is blaring his horrific music, shaking the walls. The across the hall dude has dozens of friends, a gang of men and women who party around, and obviously love to hang here for a while, many times at all hours, and shout and holler and make all manner of loud sounds for all to hear right outside my thin little wooden door. This went on last night, and is still hot and heavy today. Both of these neighbors are on one hell of a serious roll to be offensive and annoying. They could care totally less whether they disturb other folks, or perhaps, they are doing it intentionally, paid well for their willingness to participate, in making my life miserable. People in this horrible THAT 1970 WASHCLOTH FAMILY or the “K-FAM” for short, are the most likely suspects in my book. I am all ready looking around and plan to move out. My plan is either becoming part of a paid security detail in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or to move to the area of Bismark, North Dakota where the unemployment rate is around two percent, and I can get a security position with overtime, and live in another small trailer park for the 55 and older crowd, somewhere, minimizing the hell of park living. But one way or another, rest mother fucking assured folks, I will survive this shit, MRS. GLORIA GAINER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Every day has been BOTBAR FOR ME now for a while. This particular siege has been real bad since about the twenty-third day of November. The blogs show all this to be quite true and accurate. ALSO, THIS IS THE FUCKING WORST NIGHTMARE THANKSGIVING OR THANX-2-GIVENS SIEGE I HAVE SUFFERED FUCKING THROUGH SINCE MANY MANY FUCKING YEARS NOW, BUT WHY NOT, WHEN 2011 HAS BEEN THE ABSOULUTE QUINTESSENTIAL WORST MOTHER FUCKING YEAR FOR ME, IN ABOUT A MILLIOM CUNT LAPPING MUFF DIVING YEARS NOW?

Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis, whose name, my computer tried hard to prevent me from printing out on this document, told me and confirmed what I all ready had fully fucking expected was going on, and that is that, WOMO wants me to anger SCYLLA ALL MIGHTY GODDESS, and for me to break my contract with HER, or (covenant). SHE has kept HER end of the bargain that we made out on Vi-Queens Island recently, and if I break my word and tell HER huge secret, it will cost me in ways a lot bigger than suffering through loud noise, or even any and all of the shit and hell that this evil diseased bunch of Otammite's of the Milituforce, could ever do to me, even all combined together. Still, notice how I said something bad last weekend about the high and mighty super megalomaniac and ultra ego-man, Donald J B Trump; and all hell broke loose around me ever since? Remember how whenever D do a real long super power hitting blog like SJ-CH-0269, same thing again? So it is obvious that I am doing some damage. This is shy, I no longer negatively judge those defending their honer and way of life overseas, who drive a car-bomb into a school or a church or area of cappy control oppression and or occupation. Sure on first glance, this deed is both cowardly in its appearance, as well as viciously inhuman. But this is ALL that they CAN DO. We do not allow them to have super computers or nuke weapons, or anything that can fight us on our level, wo what really should we expect their counter-strikes to materialize and manifest as folks? Everything peeps, is how you see it, and this makes the word PERSPECTIVE, just about the most powerful word in the English Dictionary. It is why the word relative is used so often as well. If only the velocity of light in a vacuum, is the constant, and all other things in one way or another, are then relative to this constant, then again, the word 'perspective' becomes instantly brilliant in the dictionary, as to its powerful importance. This leads up to my connecting in these two thoughts now. If all I am able to do, is blog to a few peeps willing to read some of these words, every so often; then that is all I have; or all that I am able to do, to legally counter attack this horrible fucking enemy , for all the wicked and inhuman and unconscionable stuff that it endlessly chooses to perpetuate against my life and me for 20-60 years somewhere around in there.

Let me illustrate here. I am a citizen, and a victim; of this EVIL EMPIRE, that is much more ruthless than the Roman Empire of the times of Jesus Christ; whether or not, any of you ever decide, and choose; to see this giant truth or not. What can I do? I have to follow the law, or I'll be tried in court, found guilty, imprisoned; and lose even more. In fact, this is exactly what the Camden County Prosecutor ADA Ron Wirtz told me all throughout the early and the middle nineteen-nineties, and he did know quite a lot about my story an my persecution, and had met my mother, my pal David Roth, as well as myself, the original meeting on the afternoon of the 5th day of December, in 1989, one day after my 35th fucking birthday, while I was residing at Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG, Apartment #1102, or my PCN + Donald Trump's PCN.

What peeps do not know is that I used to love the entire smack. I traded stocks, speculated in commodity futures, T-Bills, T-Bonds, you name it and I played it. I did all sorts of things. I tried jobs, schools, careers, relationships, all the things that you take for granted, and think I am merely to fucking mentally ill to be handle to properly handle, and you b judge me, and you have things just about as backwards as it can get without entering and surviving a wormhole experience and entering into an antimatter world where time would be running in a reverse direction, and would be the same second it was on the other side when you step out beyond the event horizon, only now you can see it all redoing itself. This is how many have blatantly chosen to believe things about me. You have it all wrong and backwards. There is nothing any more wrong with me than with any of you. Some of you are better, some of you are not as good, and we all have this situation, just as we all have more talent in one thing or another, and also, less talent in something else here or there. I am no different than any of you, no matter how far out any of these words and blogs may appear to you. You merely have two misconceptions about all of this. First, you do not know my story, and second, you do not have the time to or the desire to, so you will read a little bit here and there, and say to yourself, WOW, this WILD NUTCASE must have just escaped from the banana bin, on top of this, he must have been their leader. Then you never have the smallest desire or inclination to study or take one bit seriously, a few simple facts that do not require lots of your time or serious study. You do not need to go to school and get a degree in Quantum Mechanics, it would help a lot, but it is not needed here, some real simple logic would suffice, just as Star Trek's Mister Spock would say it so well in the 1986 whales movie, when it came to the seemingly insurmountable task of locating George and Gracie, the two Humpback whales that they needed to find. Why not ask questions like, would anyone sane enough to be able to get to a computer, and live on his own, and operate in this messed up bad economy rotten society, and make these incredible and surreal sounding blogs that are claimed to be nonfiction events, and totally the truth, not have some merit, and why if he as he claims, if not being stopped and literally prevented asnd interfered with, will nobody ever anywhere take the remotest chance of believing all this, and trying to help, after-all, say my biggest commentor's that call me the ranter such as on the UM website, randomly choosing the nice lovely person who said whey did after my blogs ended on this “UM” web-blogger-site, after I told a nightmare hell about abuse and neglect, and my having to give up all I had in the world and run for my life, scared and alone, and look what this piece of human disease said to me. If this is rational, this and locking me up for crying at a police station on Route 73 in Blue Anchor, Winslow Township, New Jersey back early in the winter of 2000, and on and on we can go with hundreds of painful examples every bit as big and nasty as these; yet there is no rational reason or rhyme to treat anybody this inhumanly, UNLESS OF COURSE, SOMETHING BIGGER THAN THE MOON ITSELF, IS BEING COVERED UP AND PROTECTED, BY THESE WORLD FUCKING AUTHORITIES, it just leaves no other possibility here, Elizabeth and Darren and Agnes Moorehead.

People's reactions when they stray and deviate too far away from the so-called established norms, tell the story of truth, without any further details being needed at all. When I tried to talk to folks in a very calm, rational, nice, quiet way; in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, back in 1997; they acted as though I was 'ONTO THEM' and 'ONTO SOMETHING'. It was right out of a television show where this kind of thing is the plot in the movie, and it is a really good movie, and all movie goers and basic EW-FABNS know exactly what I am talking about. The same thing happened to my friend David and myself, the previous year; in a town in Pennsylvania, known as Carlisle; a short drive to the west of Harrisburg.

A normal person of normal intelligence, knows fully well, when they are doing nothing wrong, and all hell just jumps out at them and against them. This is what has happened to me now on TYHREE HUGE FUCKING OCCASIONS, folks. I NEED NO PERSONAL INVITE TO THE WHITE HOUSE OR PRIVATE TALK WITH THE PRESIDENT, to tell me this is all real and true, and a nightmare beyond totally monstrous. I would much rather have Collinwood Manor come to life, and die a horrendous and ghoulish death there at the hands of all the characters they could ever have imagined, than to have suffered through the Stanley mess that I find myself in now, and have been in basically all throughout my entire life, worsened in several exact stages, one when Jim Burr told me that Satan was destroying my life and I thought he was a total nutcase at the time, then again when my dad came back after being away from age 9-19, diving on the Treasure Coast where I bow have come to reside; then again in the nineteen eighties, and then in the nineties, when I just had to find the great SARAH, or ELSE; out of the blue, one day!!

Well, there was no way in hell to ever find Sarah, because Sarah was not who or what I thought she had been. This led me onto a path from thinking I was pretty fucking enlightened, into real honest major enlightened thoughts and attitudes about the all-ness of the cosmic reality. When I saw the TV show the other night about the show called STAR TREK, it was clear to my level of KNOWINGNESS, that these great peeps behind it, even great wonderful Gene himself, were all doing no more than opening themselves up, and channeling, and permitting higher truth and higher concepts, to make contact with their lower 90% conscious mind system. This is how STAR TREK came to be, and lots of other great, and well, no so great things such as Hitler and Hell, also came into the carbon-biological condition.

Still, there really is a future, only it is so many of them, you could not keep up with it, and would go mad in seconds if I could force what I know on you in an instant. There are various ways of interacting with 45th dimensional particles, and she is only too anxious for humankind to realize it and move into this new age, for real, not this silly 21st century nonsense, as compared to what I know, it is apes making dumb grunt noises, sorry Selena and daughter. There really is solid helium, and a world made up of objects that are constructed to weigh whatever we want them to, going from 1X10 +100th-G down to 1X10 -100th-G. Solid helium or compressed boxium in a universe I have visited, is a wild place. I live there in the year 2074. My name is Joseph, I go by JOJO, me and nicknames, you know. My car is 26 feet long and 7 feet wide, the entire front to back in a bubble that at the center is 65 inches high, an interesting amount of inches. It weighs about 7 pounds when in motion, and when parked, about 1000 times more. My brakes do not lock wheels, they change the car to weigh a million times more than its mobile-7 for several seconds. There is a lot more to tell, only telling it will cause me to die today. I will however, Maria and Arnold Kennedy, most definitely, ******BE BACH******, and that you CAN most certainly believe.

I will say, the enemy WOMO woke me up with loud music attack, and a major health attack, a terrific nasty mother fucking sore throat. Fortunately, I found a cure for that, and it sure ain't a fucking apple!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ENDING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0278

2011-12-01T10:15:00.000-08:00

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0278
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
STARTING BLOG: I just got clocked fucked by whore-JANE.

THE EVIL EMPIRE IS MURDERING ME. THIS MESSAGE IS THE ANY AND ALL ENEMIES THROUGHOUT THE WORLD, THAT HATE OPPRESSION, AND EVIL WALL STREET, AND THIS EVIL G-8 WORLD SYSTEM OF ABVSOLUTE DOMINATION BY 400 TOP WORLD FAMILY CAPPY SWINE.

FIRE ALARMS, NUCLEAR TESTING SIRENS, HEALTH ATTACKS OF SEVERE CRAMPING AND WICKED SHIT ATTACKS, GUM BLEEDING, ALL THE SIGNS OF NUCLEAR ATTACK, AND THEN THEY HAVE THE FUCKING BALLS TO RIDE BACK AND FORTH SAYING THIS IS A TEST, THIS IS ONLY A TEST, WHILE THEY BLAST ME WITH NUCLEAR COVERT ATTACK. FUCK YOU DONNA AND JASON AND STICK YOUR FUCKING TIN FOIL UP YOUR CUNT LAPPING ASS, WHOEVER YOU ALL REALLY ARE, PK DOPPS AND ALL. I HAVE NOT HAD THIS KIND OF MOUTH PAIN AND TOOTHACHE MAJOR BUTTON PUSHING FROM SATANIC MOTHER FUCKING WOMO SINCE THE 1987-1990 ERA IN TIME WHEN THIS DEMONIC SHIT WAS ALL GETTING REALLY STARTED. BUT THIS IS BUT THE TINY MOTHER FUCKING OPENING TO THIS INCREDIBLE TALE OF NIGHTMARE HELL AND WOE, MY PEEPS. I WILL ONLY START TODAY WITH THE VERY INITIAL SHIT.

LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS WATCHING THE CHANNEL ON SCIENCE ON COMCAST CABLE TELEVISION, FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, AREA, #110 ON THEIR LINEUP SYSTEM; AND FROM 11 PM THROUGH 1 AM, THE SHOW ABOUT STAR TREK, I KNEW THIS WOULD BE A DAY I WOULD PUT IN MY MOTHER FUCKING MEMS. LET ME TRY AND EXPLAIN, YO.

A snot nosed six year old with my level of enlightenment can see the obvious truth, that the so-called Steve Murray Psyche Myrathus gods of the Astral Plane, miss totally; while here in waking interaction collectiveness; is that shit is all fucking happening inside of worlds way too small for this interaction to start to understand or appreciate in any way, shape, or form. These mother fuckers did all of this by pure chance accident, as post-atomic-sized world illusion and mirage would perceive fucking shit. In deep truth, it is all PROGRAMED sub-atomically. Every mother fucking thing is. This great awesome television show is and was, NO EXCEPTION. I realized it before the 2-hour show, about the show, had concluded. I knew then and there, to brace up for a true fucking death siege and a trampling on my United States so-called protected constitutional fucking rights, come the moUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrning light today, and at ten of the fucking clock, POW, BANG, this nightmare shit that is totally fucking off of the wall, all began Sabrina Stuart Huntington Collins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLUEBOOK is a powerful reality, that few peeps know about anymore. Soon the entire World War Two generation will be gone, and the government will have accomplished a major conspiracy, BRO. This was the total cover up of really powerful fucking shit, and at the risk of disappointing the UFO-BUFFS, had very little to nothing to do with flying saucers and space fucking ass aliens. I bring you truth, I have no reason to sit here persecuted to death, and lie to you in favor of this totally whack EVIL EMPIRE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The simple truth, despite GOOGLING UP, MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY, and seeing my very long term problem with Briggbase Lambrigger Cultists collectively in human bodies and programmed to interact as what is casually known of to the many 'fans', the EW, ENTERTAINMENT WORLD, the BIGGEST TOTAL MIND MANIPULATORS AND CONTROLLERS IN ANY MOTHER FUCKING WORLD OR GALAXY, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The subatomic world wants me to break my covenant with SSJK as badly as HER PEEPS of long ago, only they did disappoint HER, I on the other freaking hand, WILL NEBER let my TEEN QUEEN GODDESS DOWN, BRO! Really powerful peeps know all of this all ready. You are a bunch of cosmic fucking losers, ALL OF YOU. You may be dreaming here that you are fucking all that, YO, but as you awaken back in DOGTOWN, I only shutter to know your HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, they make my hell quite monstrous and inconceivably fucking horrendous in the so-called HERE AND NOW. It is next to impossible therefore for me to really have one fucking ass ounce of Linda-Pity for any of these twisted and diseased sicko monsters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No matter what this subatomic sickness does to me, I will not SELL OUT, not to trains, Sabrina Collins, Sarah Callio, or Jack Kennedy HIMSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wow what a family. Did you really take that as an insult in 1988, Dan Quale??

THYIS FUCKING BLOG, 4 NOW, IS ENDING, YO, BUT I'LL BE BACH, 'GOVERNOR RELATIVE WIFE'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0277

2011-11-30T23:36:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0277
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“REALITY-THREE FURTHER EXPLORED”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011 ©
DATE AND TIME FILE (DATFILE) CH-0277-120111.069

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I TOLD YOU GINA, AND OTHERS, THAT WALL STREET BY DECEMBER WOULD BE UP MILLIONS OF POINTS. I MAY HAVE SLIGHTLY EXAGERATED, BUT I WAS MAKING THE POINT, THAT PARALLEL EVENT IS REAL AND AS BEING USED AGAINST ME BY MOTHER FUCKING SQUAT SUCKING SCUM BAGS, AND HAS BEEN SINCE THE 15TH DAY OF AUGUST IN 1986. THIS FUCKING WEEK, WALL STREET CROOKS HAVE MADE A THOUSAND MOTHER FUCKING POINTS, BY PERSECUTING ME SO HORRENDOUSLY SUNDAY AND MONDAY. I TOLD YOU BIG LOVELY GINA, U ARM BREAKER U, AND I WAS ON THE MONEY$$$$$$$$$$$. YOU ALL WILL SEE NOW, HUNDREDS OF GAINED POINTS EVERY SINGLE DAY, DAY AFTER DAY, WEEK AFTER WEEK, AND BY THE END OF JANUARY OF MYAN-12, IT WILL BE AROUND 20,000 BASIS POINTS, B-A-N-K----O-N----IT----YO!!!!!!!! BY APRIL, IT WILL BE UP MAROUND 40,000, AND BEFORE THE SECOND CALENDAR OF THE GREAT SHAH-WHITE OF THE VIQUEEN-JEWELLY-CLUB, IT WILL BE AROUND 100,000 MOTHER FUCKING CHEATED POINTS.

Somewhere in hyperspace, in this vast fifth dimension, this prophecy above will definitely occur. The odds that we who read or write these words in the STM of here and now, will be in a matching universe are not all that great. Still, it is all based on how much these bastards can ruin and destroy my life day by day, hour by hour, curls, girls and Superman movies all notwithstanding; that will obviously be the determining factor of just where this all plays out, in exact formula. Now here are a few super reality shocks, 'BING', Detective Studdereale, of L&O.

If I am so 100% correct, and after all, I did do what Einstein claimed could not be done, in 1986, and what many others would despise me for, but let us focus on roulette and not incest. Spring into action, John Mason of sunny hot FTLEFLUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It won't stay Christmas 1983 forever, old wallet Disdee misplacer, YO.

So what is reality-3, for those who read these words, yet refuse to scan back to summer time into autumn blogs of mine from the wonderful, YUK-YUK, year of 2008, Misses Marola?????????????????????????? Reality-3 is the 'WHY', in so far as my ability to consistently make money playing casino roulette that 'wonderful' year in '86, and is also the 'WHY' this thing called PARALLEL-EVENT or (PE) and thus ICPE or INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT, works as it does, does what it does, the explanation of the mechanics behind it, no differently than a schematic design shows how the electronics of a machine are put together, chip by chip, diode by diode. Can I or anyone else in this dinosaur time period of twenty-eleven, Misses Marola and other wonderful peeps from my 1969 past; really ever get all the answers so that they could waltz into a laboratory, and mother fucking design a schematic that would properly fully illustrate REALITY-3, and what it does that makes PE and thus ICPE, work? No way 'Josey girl', NO FUCKING WAY. Don't get paranoid on me Governor Terrorist, as I am not making fun of you. I am too pissed fucking off tonight to laugh at the sick jokes of the late MISTER David Charles freaking ass Roth, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not sweet on the Moon-man of 1985 either, nor do I plan to put a hurting on anybody, not the way some might think aniwho, peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If 'DCR' was here in waking life in my shared illusion in this fifth freaking dimensional hyperspace, he would chuckle and then remind me that the scum bag club of America, and maybe the Planet Earth, is simply out breeding us, to quote him word for freaking ass word, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Reality-3 is not a 2+2=4 deal, and it never will be, it cannot be rationally simplified, or reduced to some kind of a philosophical mathematical equivalent lowest common denominator, YO peeps. Put simply folks, some of PE makes total sense. Stay out in the sun too long and you get sunburn. Sock a cop, and you will be in jail. Shoot your foot with a large gun, and you will become crippled. Drive drunk and swerve around, and your license to drive will disappear faster than a bunny rabbit at a Las Vegas lounge magic act. These are like simple cause and effect things. However, CAF and PE are very different no matter how simple or complex they may become, as CAF works in one direction only, while PE works both ways. This makes a logical mind begin deducing that perhaps a third reality is acting on the other two events, but then, who can ever really know for sure, copyrighted voice echos from the past all totally and fully notwithmotherfuckingstanding, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is one thing to say, OK, I will walk into a bar, I am five feet tall and 112 pounds soaking wet, and I will flirt with all the wives of the huge drunk dudes in there, and then I can expect to lose teeth, and maybe consciousness. It is an entirely different mother fucking ballgame however my peeps, to say that after every red and even number that comes out at a roulette table today where I am standing and keeping track on paper with a stick figure chart; that the following next outcomes from these previous red and even numbers, are 5 low and 22 high. Still, this is the trending parallel event here, and once there is at least a 4:1 ratio, and to be really safe, a 5:1 ratio hardy ever loses; you then just stand there waiting for red and even numbers to pop out and bet with the trending next outcome remaining parameter of HIGH or 19-36 outside bet area on the roulette layout on the gaming table. There is a major thing that needs to be talked about here, Albert Einstein, old pal of my dad's, who says I could not have done what I did in 1986. First, it is hard to believe other things in 1986, it seems this was my year for seemingly impossible things to happen to me, still I do not deny reality, they mother fucking happened, so screw it. This next discussion is simply this folks. If WOMO enemies, can score 1000 points for a major siege, why then not make every single day beyond super ultra mega hell for me? Is there thus, some type of a copyrighted, or not copyrighted; (2004 Halloween Day) PERMISSION-BARRIER??????????????In other words, IS SOMETHING PROTECTING ME FROM ABSOLUTE HELL, as what does WALL STREET HAVE TO GAIN by not stepping this up to unfathomable monster ass levels of nightmare cruelty? Well, we can speculate several things that may be all potentially part of this permission barrier of a sorts, my book from 1994 aside, peeps. One is of course, fear of exposure. If I can ever prove what Wall Street has done to me for nearly twenty-five and a half fucking years now, I COULD SUE THEM ALL FOR 25 BILLION FUCKING US DOLLARS, AND I WOULD FUCKING WIN, AS I WEOULD BREAK A FUCKING JURY'S HEART, AND YOU and THEY ALL KNOW IT, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They also may simply not have the ability to do worse to me, or a combination of both of these things may be causing this limited amount of shit being perpetrated on me by this twisted fucking disease. On top of that, other things not thought of here, may also be a factor, or any combinations thereof of all of this. Still, is REALITY-3 real, or is it simply WALL STREET and WOMO, doing all of this, and that's that? Who can ever know. I did what Einstein said could not be done, and I do not have a clue, well,, maybe I have a tiny clue, but that is all I have, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No other blog on Planet Earth, has been diligently kept for 6+ years, with a story this outlandish and off the scales bizarre. Just this in and of itself, verifies the validity of all of this vomit swallowing death hell that I am being forced to endure.

Showing weakness to WOMO such as admitting what I said on my last blog never helps my empire, and always bolsters and edifies the EVIL EMPIRE, without fail, my 6+ year blogs, again, reiterate this resoundingly clear and quite absolutely unmissable, YO. They have both my kids brainwashed, and me in the toilet, and they know they have me by the balls, folks. I know it, and there is no use denying it for a single ass fucking second, friends and fiends. If I start telling or believing fish tales, I should quit right now, as I am only wasting time and energy, mine, and yours. Still, Donald, if my “Uncle” Heinz, denied your pop a loan 40 or 50 years ago, and you think that taking this out on me makes sense, well, that shows me why you are indeed, the ultimate asshole that I have known you to be since you and McGuire teamed up against me in 1984, YO. You two are sick evil Satanic fucking bastards. As long as I live and breathe, just try becoming the president, you dirt bag son of a bitch.

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555. I am being struck by lots of clock attacks from MISS BITCH JANE recently. 55555555555555555555555555555555555555555. Allow me to compensate please folks. 5555555555555555. I am seeing lights out of the eye corners big time for months now, just like 1980 back at the RPL recording fucking studio days. Things are very bad for me peeps, and they will not be improving any mother fucking time soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These Christians can keep their fucking god of theirs, all it ever does in my life is make things far fucking worse, EVERY MOTHER FUCKING TIME, someday I'll fucking learn my lesson, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fuck it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All the powerful shit told recently on blogs, and the market flies up near ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS. Oh yeah, right; like some huge mother fucking shit is not gonna' fucking strike. What am I, some fucking ass retard, YO?????????????????? DUH, I DON'T THINK SO, pretty Discovery-Zone employee!!!!!

END TRANNY, SICKO FUCKING SLIMY ASS GRANY, YO!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0276

2011-11-29T15:38:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0276
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112911.743
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“PLEASE LET ME TEACH YOU WHO AND WHAT YOU FIGHT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

This message is to the OCCUPY-MOVEMENT. The fittingly named when abbreviated, antimatter of the MO. The Milituforce Otammites, or the MO, is not an easy concept or entity collective, to try and comprehend, so don't feel bad folks, should you be reading my blogs and scratching your heads. I will not lie and say that I do not scratch mine. Just why this mighty K-FAM has decided to put all of this here, play this game with me, and hurt my soul so horrifyingly, is every bit the gargantuan and unfathomable question for me, as it is to any of my potential readers, hopefully MORIANS, but more realistically, Inbetweenians at best, and most probably, Lessians, or Anti-Morians, with or without Donna Jason Summer Forest, and his/her great brilliant strobing or not strobing, MORNING LIGHT, UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE. No folks, if I had the answers, or all of them, then indeed, I would not be just simply pounding out words and clicking on little black keys on a computer system, blogging out a message that in all odds, is gonna' get me mother fucking absolutely no place at all, because it all ready has been written, my life's script that is, and I am merely acting out the part of myself, and guess who totally was aware of this information that I just typed here, peeps? The same fine gentleman and great playwright who helped King James of England, work on and eventually complete in 1546, the Holy Bible, known as the KING JAMES VERSION, or (KJV). Why take my word for things, most of this is verifiable on Google, it has not yet all been sanitized out and away for my sake, it is coming, let me assure you, but we ain't quite there as of yet, my peeps.

All last week, Dear Occupy, my wonderful group; except for the 23rd, was nowhere this horrendous for me. I was not being continually tormented and tortured in a covert and ultra black dark secret hell of absolute vile viciousness, operated and controlled by the scum of the mother fucking Earth itself, or the bloody-shoe-maggots that this scum produces may say it even better. This is why the DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGES WENT DOWN CONSIDERABLY ON THAGT WEEK. Now this week, beginning with the weekend disaster of Sunday, concentrating on mainly a NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE, and lots of other fucking bullshit hell that they perpetrated upon me covertly and totally illegally, but then try making a fucking citizens arrest on a police officer sometime folks, if you think my words wanna' make you chuckle so fucking much, YO; but yes folks, starting with the wrecking of my sleep on Sunday with one fire alarm after another going off in my apartment building at the Fort Pierce Housing Authority of Florida, USAESMWG; there has been sky siege, health destruct siege, neighbor siege with the booming of music-man and his monster stereo next door, and the wild series of loud door slamming, both this morning before I left for work, this is why Monday, the markets illegally through covert tactics called ICPE, FLEW almost half a thousand points up, and again today, another third of a hundred, to make it a back to back huge win for evil manipulated controlled WALL STREET, IN MANHATTAN. I have said it over and over, and will reiterate this even again now on this very blog. I do not personally care, as why would I, if that stinking market was at 100, 1000, 10000, or a hundred thousand basis points. I do not own stock, and except for the many evils behind this monster called WALL STREET, this would mean nothing to me whatsoever. It literally would have zero value in my life. But when THESE PRICK DIRT BAG LEGAL CRIMINALS a million times more bad and dangerous than all the combined mafia systems on the planet; use a secret technique called PARALLEL-EVENT, and hurt and even wipe out and totally destroy innocent lives, because they know through a statistic, that when certain peeps are up, they are down, and vice versa, this creates a monster hell so indescribable, as nobody will believe me and they just want to take an already victimized pathetic bastard, and lock him up in a fucking looney cage and treat him like fucking shit cubed. My blogs are LEGAL FUCKING PROOF SHOWING LONG TIME PATTERN, yet still, the authorities continue refusing to take any of this seriously, and try and assist me as the victim of the worst crime since the Hitler Germany Death-camp situation of the nineteen-forties. If you think this is even a small exaggeration, you need to read the past six plus years of my blogs on the site of www.blogger.com/ and remember that is August of 2009, I was hacked and you need to access the 'wordpress' blog site for this, but this site does not go back that far, so only for this one month of time or so, www.wordpress.com/. Then my entire OM needs to watch some incredible video, that if they are not all ready pissed off at the system enough, this will really add some gasoline to the bond-fire, as well it should, as truth should not ever be stifled, what is this, the mother fucking middle ages for CHRISSAKE??????????????????????
First GOOGLE up CHEMTRAILS on the YOU-TUBE site, and then just on the GOOGLE system itself. Then enter these web addresses, and really start to see what you all are fighting for, and get MICHAEL MOORE to be the official president of the movement, my advice, Mike, is to incorporate this thing, ironic as it may sound. It takes fire to fight fire, bullets are not the answer, and just sitting and protesting never did all that much in the nineteen-sixties either. They only changed things because it was time for things to change. This is a very long story of QUANTUM PHYSICS, not intended for this particular blog. Here are those web addresses, WATCH THESE FREAKING ASS VIDEOS, my wonderful OM-group, as you will be so glad that you did, YO.
Http://www.sonyclassics.com/whywefight/
http://www.michaelmoore.com/books-films/facts/

For those in the future, tracking back on the Lunar Satellite System, go to any time in 2007, and type in www.morianity-foundation.com/ and then try 2012 around the summer time, the same address only before the dot com, type in number '2'.

Fror those in the great Moore/Mohr group of Antimatter-MO, do not try and convince my oldest daughter to0 get involved. She thinks we are all mad, and lives in her own world. Even after showing her how the 1987 sky action effected her, and gave her proof; she wanted to join the Lieutenant Sakavich Police Club, of Voorhees Township. Remember folks, we all must march to the drum we were meant to march to, and that is that, Mister Esolph.

I obeyed two huge things so far SSJK, in your true form. First there was BB, then there was the saying of the magic words. It wither had no effect on your HSTN or else you as her, on a transdimensional level; are one heck of a great actress. Oh well, like in one world, so in another one. If this is just another one of your teen games, maybe I should be let in someday, on just what the objective to it all is. I liked my life as KD a lot more. Not because I had a nice life in-between all the enemy attacks, but because you did not let me know or remember, you and me in SDK. This would have ruined my spirit and nothing would have been accomplished. Seems you know what you are doing all along after all, sorry I ever doubted my TQ.

I will stay here for another 30 days, then I am out of this evil empire forever. If you want me to stay and play this game with you, you will have to find a better way of letting me know, just as you showed me on VQ Island, all about views-4-sale on your mighty music site.

Time now for din-din my peeps. I need to eat, relax, and crash, or I will end up shooting up a mall or a Mickey-Dee. I am totally fucking screwed up after 57 years of this inconceivable nightmare hell, and MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, if you do not scan, and wipe out those hurting me, I WILL END ALL LIFE ON THIS PLANET WITHIN ONE YEAR VIA GIANT METEORS. A lot of them are very nearby, and peeps in the know are keeping their mother fucking mouths shut about it. Only I can bring them in, or deflect them away, with knowledge of operating in the quantum worlds. Thank you for being such a fantastic guru and teacher, Mister Roddenberry. I will be talking to you later on tonight once I am, by mortal terminology, asleep in bed, see you soon old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TWANSMISSION ELMER WABBIT FWUDD, WHAAAAAAAAAA!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0275

2011-11-28T19:04:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0275
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112811.880.5555555555
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“MY FINAL DYING UTTERANCE AND OFFICIAL LEGAL STATEMENT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011
MARK WAYNE MOHR OF FORMERLY HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY,
AND NOW OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Things are so bad that they have never ever never ever never ever, my lovely Lightning Goddess Diana, been this bad, in my entire 64 trillion year cycle of hyperspace existence. This is it right here, all the way to the mother fucking wall,Captain Jordy Trek.

Another fire alarm struck the building around just after six of the clock this moUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, following the one that struck earlier around quarter past two. This caused me to lose sleep, not wake up to the alarm clock as I needed to put ear plugs in just to survive; and as a result, made me mother fucking late for work by ninety minutes. I told the boss, Mary, and she is verifying this with the local fire Department that responds to these alarms, as well as with the Housing Authority of the great and illustrious non (SPR) Studio Park Records, FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, YO!!!!!!!!

On top of this death siege, an all day aerial assault hit with loud low private Cessna fucking jobs, death beams struck my body, producing major health attacks, both heart and bowel fuck ups, that has been ongoing since 1986, and totally mother fucking undetectable by today's best medical professionals. Also, if something this serious was wrong with my body over a quarter century of physical time, it would have killed me and wiped me out a very fucking long fucking time ago, this is just a dose of good old mother fucking common sense, no matter who wishes and insists on calling me a delusional ranter nut case, and refuses to take this all seriously. I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, and as good old, late Mrs. Dawn-Marie King Laines would say it perhaps a tad better than this, “IT IS WHAT IT IS”. Anyone connected with the great evil “MILLIONTH-COUNCIL (WOMO)”, that has been obviously bugging my body with a T. McVeigh Microchip, and that was listening in during my Stockholm Kidnapping period; knows all of this only too well, peeps.

I am going to tell once more, that things progressed real bad through Sunday and today-Monday, but the real hammering began, with or without the teenaged dinger who turned my Saturn hubcap into Swiss Cheese in 1996 outside “The Gathering Place Psychic Shop”, in early June, right after my trips to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with Mister David Charles Roth; after being in a light and self induced trance where I bi-located my awareness, in both my bed in my apartment here in town, and on this material realm;, yet simultaneously, was with the great All Mighty Sarah-Stacey Krassle. I was placed back in the powerful dreaming-interaction of June the 21st of 2008, that is blogged about on that date on the blog website of www.blogger.com/, for those not reading these words right now on that site; and MC was telling me huge powerful stuff, that I gave my word to HER, that I will never betray HER and ever blog and tell. However, there are many things that I can tell, that will not be in violation of breaking this special covenant, (contract), for the post Aramaic Lingo days of Ad-2011. The PCN-GAWNUM answer the other time of great siege, before this new one, was the number of 781. This PCN-781 contains thousands of powerful listing matches, some to name a few are 'BABYLON', 'GOD'S DOG', 'JULY TWELVE, NINETEEN-SEVENTY', and 'PROPHET OF NOTHING'. Using the word “account” in place of “channel”, pertaining to U-tube, powerful forces know two powerful PCN's, one being 781, the other being 880, 'hypothetically' speaking, 'mom'. The question I was thinking and pondering on back on the 23rd of this month was why had suffered this unfathomably incredible nightmare siege from the evil wicked fucking WOMO on that day, and the cards came out root-GAWNUM #78. By the way, you reshuffle all cards and continue dwelling on your question, but do not hold back the card originally drawn from the deck that produced your first digit root answer. Both times, the odds need to be exactly one to nine that you will select by 'random' an ace through a nine. If you stumbled onto this blog here and now, you will need to go back half a dozen or so blogs and read up ion using the GAWNUM. Many other listings come out such as balloon and buzzard, and on and on we could go here, but for now, this is more than enough to get cosmic juices flowing and let the Jessica Football Players club know I am not playing around with my counterstrike retaliatory talking and tattle tailing, YO. To know what I'm referring to here, you would need to go years back before the first blog chapter of this SAFE JOURNAL series of MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS, all on www.blogger.com/ site, of course, YO!!!!!!!!

Where is my lovely CASS from transdimensional hyperspace? I have a debt that I am not sure I can ever repay, but want to spend the rest of my life trying. You did all this for me, reminds me of years ago near a great sea. I knew there was a reason I wore the grooves on that oldie 45 RPM record out as a pre-teen, at 125-A Haddon Hills, in Westmont, NJUSAESMWG. HA-HA. Now after late April, the only early-alpha systems unused by quanta waves are BABA and FAFA. The E is a vowel that would not pronounce next to the A vowel. Still, I watch and see all that goes on, I miss little, very little gets past me, folks. This does not count being major hypnotized by school principals that suddenly take an active roll in the movie, “Body Snatchers”. I promise that I never will reveal this incredible secret, BEG. By sharing it with me, I know you trust me, and I will never betray that trust, no matter what PK does to me, or her cronies.

When I asked Gawky Gaukauk to reveal why everyone around me was so vehemently against my hypnosis in the nineteen-nineties to remember why 1986 changed my life so incredibly; the number of 132 came out. Now MOTORCYCLE may not seem to relevant, but smart folks have already done a long list, and know why this number was told to me.

Then there is the old Freudian unconscious slip of the lip, and the unconscious reason for doing and saying and naming things, even our children, give me a break, my lovely Paula.

I could blog on and on, millions of things, and waste my precious time; but I'd rather watch a movie and enjoy a nice bowl of Breyers freaking ice cream. I have no more time to give to these fucking losers. Life is irony. That is all it can ever be. This is why we DRIVE on the parkway, and we PARK on the driveway. It is why most TURNpikes are for the most part straight line directions. The truth is that none of this real, and that QUANTA reality has chosen to make my life what it is. As I said in my last few blogs somewhere, we can all eat dogshit and add lots of sugar to make it taste better. It will taste better, but why do this? Locked up in this question, is a lot of ground that I'll be covering soon, and yes, heads will roll, big time, as a result, YO. ****END TRANSMISSION****

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0274

2011-11-27T23:43:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0274
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
Blog Starting:

I AM UNDER HEAVY ATTACK, WORLD MARKETS ARE INVOLVED, AND SO IS ICPE AND ALL THE THINGS I HAVE TOLD BEFORE ON SO MANY LONG WINDED PRIOR BLOGS REGARDING THE ILLEGAL AND TOTALLY IMMORAL MISUSE OF A STATISTICAL TECHNOLOGY CALLED, PARALLEL-EVENT.

It started again a few minutes ago at approximately a quarter past two of the clock this Monday moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, Donna Lightsummer, with a deafening fire alarm going off in my mother fucking apartment. It is so unfair, why should this piercing ear shattering alarm have to go mother fucking off in everybody's mother fucking apartment, just because it it set of in one of them? It makes about as much sense as eating dogshit and adding sugar to make it taste a little bit better. It will you know, but still, it would be horrendous and beyond a nightmare. Perhaps this will be a small window for all of you reading my words, into the fucking miseries of the life of eternal Mountainpen, under this horrific HUNTINGTON CURSE.

NOW, WHO IS UP AT 2:15, BURNING FOOD, CAUSING THIS? I MEAN REALLY FOLKS, TELL ME HOW FUCKING NUTS AND CRAZY YOU REALLY BELIEVE ME TO BE, AND THAT IS JUST WITH THIS INFORMATION, BUT HERE IS THE REST OF THE MOTHER FUCKING STORY, YO PEEPS!!!!!!!!

I was in a self induced light trance, speaking to the great All Mighty Goddess of this world and cosmos, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE. She had just told me something so major, it cannot be blogged, all though I am burning to tell it. MC, you know what huge secret I am holding back, and I am doing it for your sake, as you are my special one and you always will be. This is the only reason I am keeping my mouth shut. However, I am requesting that you personally, humanly watch over me this week, things are about to get very bad for me. I am not asking you in the attitude of one back scratching the other, as that would be in poor faith and bad taste, I am instead asking you as the one who you took with you, 65 days into the future, back in 2008, and to a place known as 65 Middle Road. You even knew the Dow Jones would drop to the 65 hundreds. As I speak now at 2:34 AM-EST, the Fort Pierce Fire Company has disengaged this deafening punishing alarm. When I leave the city, if my hearing is damaged, I do plan to sue, as my life is music, creating it for my own pleasure, or working in the industry. I can pull 18 months of official tax payer IRS documentation, from my 1979-1981 days at RPL Studios for court, if necessary. It just does not have to be this loud, it should come with an adjustable button, going from 5 DB higher all the way down to 25 DB lower, and then individuals can set safety limits in their own apartments, based on their level of normal, near normal, or rotten hearing. As for the 65/65/65, I was in trance, and SSJK had taken me back to the first day of 2008n summer interaction, and made me see and this time fully remember something, she knows, as it has to do with the secret of her innermost personality as her human world self. I will keep your secret whether you choose to help me or not. I am not a prick, like just about all of the peeps you have known throughout your life. I am always by your side, and will not let your 'friend' down, you know what I am talking about, this sick would does not need to know anymore. IWALU-BEG. Bye-Bye, or really, CU soon again, if I can get back into my trance without the next persecution, maybe the building will be bombed by aliens, HA-HA-BLUEBOOK. It is now 2:40 AM-EST, and I have decided to end and post up now.

Blog Ending:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0273

2011-11-27T15:25:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0273
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“ANOTHER SUNDAY OF SKY SIEGE-WEIN-SOSO-SSDD”
WORLD LABS OF 2295, DATFILE: CH-0272-112711.714
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

There are no perfect or even good weekends for me with my WOMO-ENEMY problems since the early middle nineteen-eighties, however, this one went better than I'd expected, all be it the holiday weekend with Thanks-2-Givens, and King Building Kite Flying dog Roofs, all notwithstanding.

It all began last night, late, or maybe early this morning, on east coast time; when I got around to checking out my voice-mail messages on my AT&T telephone, as I have both Comcast and AT&T phone service, as I like the AT&T better; and it actually, it would cost me more, to not include the Comcast Phone Package, with my internet and television service with them. Aniwho peeps, YO, I got a message about trouble with my medications, after leaving careful instructions with the pharmacy after what happened before with them and my insurance and my name vanishing and hacked off of the system; only this time I was sure that I was not refilling my prescriptions through the pharmacy system. In other words, you must, or I must, to be more accurate and specific here; ask the first pharmacy that you reach, to put you through to the actual local pharmacy of your local store, otherwise, it is potentially vulnerable to hack attacks from the great Millionth-Council-Lattisaw gang of the Bermuda WOMO Triangle system of the Astral Plane counterpart regions. I am still saying YOU in place of ME, Sarah-Stacey Krassle and I seem to have this numerous identity crisis, whether or not we choose consciously, to ever reveal or admit to this, to the waking world. Anyway, today, I cleared things up today, it was too complicated and personal, to get more specific about, on a public blogging system. LSS, I got my medications, but while over at the pharmacy, and seconds after I walked through the door, a strange MUZAK coincidence or ATTACK, struck me. I was in my bath tub less than an hour before this time, and was talking aloud to myself and mentioned the old Neilson song, “Can't Live”, and changing it and singing it in the shower, making it instead of “Can't live if living is without you”, into “if living is without meds”. This is no where near the first time that things have happened that prove to me that either the odds of millions to one against coincidence is what is going on, or else, I must be being monitored and illegally listened to in my residence dwelling. The song came pouring out over the pharmacy MUZAK or Public Address (PA) system.

Later at my second errand, loud and low private aerial assaults began, and as I type, I can hear small private Cessna jobs flying in the air still, it stopped as I typed this, so I am being monitored keystroke by keystroke, right Mister Dick L&O Wolf. My first errand was picking up the meds, and then it was over to Regis Philbin's TD Bank local branch on US-Route 1, to get balances on my accounts. My next or third and final errand, was to the Dollar Store, the Dollar Tree, several blocks back towards home at the 601 Building, MISTER WILLIAM LEONARD MCKINNON, SIR, OH GREAT FUTURE-MOVER-RASTAFARIAN TELEPHONE TAPER.

When I was at the store purchasing a few items totaling around seventeen dollars, many planes were around,. And along with them, come the strange numerous spurious ground incidents. This is why since forever now practically, I have come to recognize the fact and the truth that this is all totally connected, just as the US and other global military systems, find it a normal practice, since aerodynamic principles were discovered that permitted humankind the right to flight; to use a combined cohesive merging of both ground and air assaults on their enemies. A snotty tiny child knows this, whether the grown ups around them do or not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Speaking of this particular scientific knowledge, that was destined to eventually become acquired by humankind, in the last one percent or so, of their recorded history on the Planet Earth; there was a very wild dude who I met at a health club swimming pool in the middle of 1995 somewhere. A few peeps called him 'RC', so I did as well. One day, about a year after the time we first talked, he asked me if I was able to go the bottom of the ten foot pool where we both were hanging along the wall of this pool, and lay flat on my back for a few seconds. Just what his game was, only became partially known to me a few days before the club mysteriously closed down overnight with no notice at all, and no refunds on membership dues ever offered. This club, at least as of the time I left New Jersey to come down to live here in sunny Florida; closed and literally grew vines around its property, like out of a James Patterson novel, killed or not killed, sunglasses or no sunglasses, Atlantic City Beach Patrol!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was straight out of the plot on the sixties hit daytime soap-drama on television, called, “Dark Shadows”. The real fans remember the 1995 time trip, Gerard Stiles, and the left-to-rot COLLINWOOD Estate, a total duplicate of HADDONWOOD Swim and Health Club, 1970-1995. Anyone who can believe in this coincidence, I would love to try and introduce to the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and the 7 Dwarfs and their pretty pal Geraldine Snow White, am I correct here, oh wonderful mighty Shah of Iran and President of MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY, of 1967????????????????????????????????? The few conspiracy theorists out here, know precisely just what I am talking about; whether they give credence to my personal incredible nightmare tale, or not. But here is where, as 'they' say, 'the plot thickens', my peeps. Number one, there is a powerful wordage parallel here, in Collinwood and Haddonwood. The great Disco-Diva Donna, can be one of the first to see and point out the WOOD part, as in the WOODS TEST PRESSING, and ATLANTIC RECORDS of Ancora, New Jersey, where her great unknown HAIR album was somehow involved with and in collusion with my place of employment as well, the Recorded Publications, in Camden, New Jersey, known as the abbreviated, RPL STUDIOS by the entire music industry, especially of the more distant past times. The LAW AND ORDER show, depicts a man, a very tall basketball player, and murderer, giving him the fictional name Cyrus N-WOOD, as in the way both of these institutions or estates end in their final five letters-NWOOD. In this particular episode on this great show, the Philadelphia 76'ers B-Ball team was called, the Cannons. Cyrus of course played for them but often played in the great city of NYC where this show is home based, and instead of calling them by their true name, the NEW YORK NICKS, this was changed for the show. If this alone does not tie into my powerful road-trip-interaction with the trip up to Boston, to the hotel with the strange heater-clock, and my learning how the Philadelphia Phillies would become the 2008 World Series Champions, then I fail to know how to ever prove that major stuff is happening all around my life, and has been since PEE SENIOR wanted me to give her a magical H-DAUT. There is much more to compare in these two names, vowel changes that become IO, or TEN, as in WE WERE BUT TEN, AND NOW WE'RE OLD, from the SARAH SONG, written by me on the 12th of May in 1996, the double consonants, D and L that will all be saved for a future discussion. Now let me tell about what I was told by the girl lifeguard who always hated me so much, she was a dike, and hated all men, and was rude and vulgar. She and a dude who worked at a real estate office across from a local State Farm Insurance Office where I went to make my direct car insurance payments; and who was also a lifeguard, not the dude STEVE, r “Holy-Spirit-Lifeguard” as he became known, as a result of things he said and did to me, all blogged on many previous blogs from quite a while back. It seems, according to this girl and dude pair of Haddonwood lifeguards, snapped a picture of me while I was flat on my back, playing dead, at the bottom of the Haddonwood swimming pool. They told me that he was “out there” and only a few peeps talked to him, and that I should watch myself. They also said he talks into his camera. Wow. This was 1996, folks. Never underestimate this incredible family. I did, and lived to freaking regret it. I lost everything I own in this world, including a non-hypothetical daughter, and as all things do indeed balance out, gained something, and that would be the true meaning of our family's 9+ generational name, HUNTINGTON. Somewhere in the Hampton's area, and all around the great county that flies over the radar, there are survivors of the direct line, males keep their names when marrying, and some were males in my mom's cousin Ruth Huntington's family. This line goes back to the great signer of the Declaration of Independence, Samuel, a good friend of mine while I am coexisting in another dreaming-interaction, named Benjamin Franklin. We all tried to create a great thing here, and the pigs from Reagan's nest that took capitalism to a new level that destroyed American middle-class-society forever, destroyed in a short wink in time, what we all busted out humps for a much longer time, to put into place. Shame on all of you wicked rotten Dogtownites. I was very angry a few days ago, and did not really mean that violence should ever be used to combat this evil, even though the United States constitution does indeed advocate the usage of this very tool should things ever get this out of control. Still, there must be a better way, and one suggested way is the Mountainpen Trilogy. Google it up in my past blogs, and wait for more future discussions, as I do tend to elaborate a lot more on the subject. The answer is not blood, then we would be no better than the pigs.

I know you are carefully watching my entire life, mighty beautiful 'Paula King'. I will always love you, and you know that, and NOTHING that you can do to me, will change that, PEE, SR.

END TRANSMISSION, AT ALL POINTS ON THE RADAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0272

2011-11-23T23:49:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, 0272
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:

This is Thanksgiving morning in 2011. Very soon, I will be in Iraq or Afghanistan, and out of this totally EVIL EMPIRE.

No one will hurt me any longer once I free myself from the bondage of this nightmare game.

I will also be contacting the Federal Communications Commission as well as the American Civil Liberties Union before I leave at the end of the year. One major complaint I will be launching is against Google and You-Tube. No matter what I do, anything I post up there, is not accessible. In case anyone is interested, views are no different than anything else out here, the entire nation is up for sale, and has been. You can buy up to ten percent of a million views on these type of sites. It is not that expensive, but proves to me it is no more than a huge con game. You simply go and type in You-Tube Views, and up pops sites that will sell from normally 5 to 100 thousand, and somehow it does not get your videos banned, or so they say. In any case, some one out here has been silencing me for forty years, and you know, it takes no genius to figure it all out after being threatened, your entire life destroyed, and even locked up by authorities even after taking all kinds of proof and evidence to them that this is not imagined, and bringing witnesses with you to boot. THIS ENTIRE EVIL EMPIRE IS A FIXED CHERAP CON GAME, A BIG DOG AND PONY SHOW, and on top of that, they have ruined me, stolen from me, and owe me ten figure remunerative compensation, and they know it.

I feel so genuinely sorry for all the others out here who are still left, suffering in silent misery and way too scared to ever dare come forward, as I do. They told their truths once, as I did, and still do; and all for naught.

However, before I totally fixate on or blame anyone anywhere, the reality is bigger than any of this, and if the sweet wonderful Pope can stand this news, it is bigger than his great church, and he doesn't have to agree or like this information, as it changes nothing at all. An entire world exists that 99 percent of people do not even know one thing about. Those that know a little about it, still may as well no nothing, and even the few Steve Hawking, either keep their fucking mouth shut, or they pay for it in other ways that I need not blog, you can use your own imaginations.

I grow quite weary of mentally ill entities, revoltingly tired in their spirits of this endless existence we all share and exist in various dimly aware states of parallel universe interaction and cohabitation. No one understands that they are either awake in one quantum flux of reality, or in virtually unlimited other states in parallel existences. Further, this is why we think we have this one life that appears so solid and constant, as the calendars on our walls, when this is the biggest illusion and dog and pony show in the cosmos. Beyond even this, incredible truth exists, that human entities twist and bend and turn into various belief systems and religions.

For the groups who love to put me down, and call me a ranter, and or insane; I will bet any amount of mob borrowed money, double or nothing; that you are closed minded, and would not want real truth, if it slammed into you like a planet smashing meteorite.

There are some people like me, who are suffering in a nightmare. Many believe we are insane. Many have gone insane. If you carefully study insanity and all of its various features that are regularly diagnosed by the psychiatric profession, there is a difference in the way I speak, and the way this group who have finally lost touch, speak. The simple truth however, is that you NEED TO THINK AND BELIEVE, THAT I AM CRAZY. This is YOUR crutch folks, not mine. You would go out and blow your fucking brains out if I proved all the shit in my past six years of blogs, is all real and totally true, down to the nth degree.

Trying to word this in ways that even a few will try to understand who never experienced the real-weird-stuff; is the difficult if not absolutely impossible job of the few of us wh have survived, what Roddenberry refers to as the “Q-Continuum on his great television science-fiction show, called, “Star Trek, TNG”. Many of his powerful messages, went over everyone's head. Only the tortured few like myself, slowly pieced a lot of this together, while maintaining some small level of relative waking world sanity, whatever the hell this really is, folks. For six plus years, my blogs tell a lot more than just about a great family that is a bit more than they akll appear to be. It goes far beyond it, yet still, let me tell you asll just a tad bit about the year of 2011, and them. Running down to Florida in middle December of 2009, only prolonged my predestined agony and doom. I lost everything I had, and they could care less. On top of this, they contact me from time to time, and it is timed to the tee. When I called Sheriff Monk earlier in the year, two members from 3,000 miles apart called me all within a half hour. When I posted the powerful blog a few blogs ago, again, I heard from them, after they cut me off for a while, with lame excuses and explanations. A lpot more is happening people, than I could ever tell or blog, due to laws, and my lack of credibility. I know that power in this world cannot be fouight or beaten by the powerless. The entire Occupy movement is doomed to fail, unless they take up arms and fight and take back what is ours. Everything that has been done to the little 99ers is totally illegal, since dirt bag Ron Reagan was elected as President in November of 1980. This was a quanta wave reality that could not be held back, not after I doomed us all by daring to send the song called, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”, down to the United States Copyright Office. I have made my share of mistakes, and will take a lot of mother fucking blame. If I do not, then I am just a low life bottom feeder coward, and a no good rotten ass hole son of a bitch prick. Yes, I am very sorry for a lot of things that I have done, and still must do. But so much more is all behind just this silly waking dream world we all our in here, and there is simply no way in hell to get into it.

For the few Trekkers out there, you need to see that in the show with Q and his 'daughter', an alternate reality needs to exist in quantum flux, not only in a fictional television show, but in the source where this imagined mind image is all coming out of. The mathematics behind all these words is there, and just a bit ahead of most college math majors. Many start to see some frightening quantum reality, and they run and duck for cover, and refuse to go beyond what they know at that point. Einstein himself was in this category, and later recanted nearer to the time where he exited human life, admitting that Quantum Physics is not some wild fiction, or mentally deluded concepts. When the math all adds up, only the perfectly ignorant, remain transfixed with old ideas and notions.

As for my horrendous attack yesterday, this is nothing new. It began after I returned from a powerful dream, on August 15th in 1986, and because I kept both a taped life journal in those days, as well as a visual chart in numbers that reflected the type of days that I would have almost like a digital-diary, it was simple to prove to myself, that there really was life before this night of the nightmare, and then there was the life I began to live, afterward, and it was as different as black and white, and came upon me at the speed of a rocket.

As for my GAWNUM answer on what triggered this day of November the twenty-third; I have decided that until I bring a friend over here to help me out again, with this machine, I will leave well enough alone, and keep my mother fucking big fat mouth SHUT. ********** END OF BLOG. **********

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0271

2011-11-23T11:48:00.000-08:00

“THANKSGIVING SIEGE HAS STRUCK ONE DAY AHEAD”

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0271
1:19 PM-EST-WEDNESDAY, DEVIL NUMBER-23,
BOTBAR MONTH-11, WORST YEAR OF MY MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR LIFE, TWENTY-BOTBAR-ELEVEN (11)

LET ME MOTHER FUCKING TRY TO COMPENSATE AND
CUNT-PEN-RAPE A LITTLE HERE, MI-MORIANS, YO; WITH 5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.

THANK YOU, GIVENS KING BROKEN HAWK NOSES, SIR LAMBRIGGER JABEZ DS, DS, DS, AND SO MANY OTHER NEGATIVE INITIAL COMBOS OF THE SWEET OLD ENGLISH ALPHABET, BRO.

I WAS RUDELY FUCKING AWAKENED TO A COURT SUMMONS DUDE AT MY DOOR, TELLING ME I AM BEING SUED, EARLY THIS MOuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuRNING.

CHEMTRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND SO ARE LOUD AND LOW AIRCRAFTS, THAT ARE ALL PERSECUTING AND HARASSIONG ME TO DEATH. IT IS FUCKING 1988 AND 1989 ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN, TODAY, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, BUT READ ON, YO. CHEMTRAILS-U-TUBE.COM/ GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS, GO TO THE TUBE, AND TYPE IN THE NAME, IT IS ALL OVER; AND IT ALL STARTED WITH ME LATE IN 1987; AT MOUNT LAUREL, NEW JERSEY; ON GAITHER DRIVE ,AT THE AMERICAN HONDA PLANT.

MY COMCAST CABLE WAS KNOCKED OFF, SO THAT I COULD NOT BLOG THIS ONTO MY WEBSITES, WWW.BLOGGER.COM/ AND WWW.WORDPRESS.COM/. THERE IS A RECORDING YOU GET WHEN CALLING THE COMCAST CABLE, SAYING THAT AROUND 7 OR 8 TONIGHT, IT WILL BE REPAIRED. MY COMCAST PHONE-LINES ARE ALSO DEAD. WHAT REALLY ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES, FOLKS; THAT THIS ALL ALWAYS SEEMS TO HAPPEN TOGETHER, CONSTITUTING FOR 25+ YEARS, WHAT I TERM (ATTACKS)?

IF ANY ONE OF YOU OUT HERE WOULD BUY INTO 25+ YEARS OF THIS HELL NIGHTMARE MOTHERFUCKING SHIT, THAN MY RESPONSE IS, GOOD FOR YOU. IN MY BOOK, I HAVE A DIPLOMA IN YOUR NAME, THAT IS ALL READY PRINTED UP, CALLED THE SORIAN-18-CALLIO-ASSHOLES CLUB-TOP-100. I AM HANGING IT ON ALL OF YOUR WALLS, IN MY MENTAL REALM. I SEE CLEARER THAN ALL OF THE JOHNNY NASH'S OF THE PLANET BACK IN 1972, JUST HOW DESERVING YOU WOULD BE OF THIS GREAT PIECE OF LITERARY ARTWORK ON YOUR WALL, HOME OR OFFICE, DEPICTING YOUR FANTASTIC ACCOMPLISHMENT IN THE TOTAL ABSOLUTE FUCKING DENIAL OF REALITY. BUT STILL, I ASSURE YOU, THAT IF THIS WAS ALL GOING ON WITH YOU, OR ONE OF YOUR LOVED ONES; YOU WOULD NOT BE BELIEVING IT EITHER. IT IS SO EASY TO LAUGH AT AND DOUBT ME, FUCK ME, I DON'T FUCKING COUNT FOR MOTHER FUCKING SHIT, AND I NEVER DID, RIGHT GRAND-MOMMY, MOM????? IF ANYONE OUT HERE EVER KNEW A MOTHER, WHO DID NOT CARE ONE BIT, IF SHE EVER HAD A 'GRANDCHILD', YOU JUST SEND ME WHATEVER THE SHIT IT IS, THAT FLASHES ON THE SYSTEM, WHEN I ENTER THE ONLINE WORLD AND GET STRANGE MESSAGES, THAT I NEVER RESPOND TO. I AM TOO BUSY BEING SUED, FLYING OVER THE AMERICAN RADAR SYSTEM; AND WATCHING OUT AND BEING CAREFUL NOT TO INCURR THE ANGER AND WRATH OF SOMEBODY WHO INSISTED ON TRADING HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMAS WITH DAUGHTERS, WHILE THE WORLD HATES ME, JEERS ME, LAUGHS AT ME, AND WANTS ME FUCKING DEAD. NOTHING ANY OF YOU ARE FUCKING DOING, IS GETTING BY ME, AS I MAY FAKE OUT LIKE IT IS, ONLY TO USE IT AGAINST YOU AT SOME FUCKING FUTURE DATE AND TIME. BELIEVE THAT, AND FUCK SANTA CLAUSE. YOU HAVE ASSAULTED ME ONE TIME TO MANY, YOU ROTTEN PUNK. YOU WILL END UP IN THE EVERGLADES, AND THIS YOU CAN TAKE OVER TO THE TD BANK, AND SAY HELLO TO MISTER WATERSTON FOR ME, AS YOUR HEAD IS BEING SWALLOWED BY SOMETHING NOWHERE AS GOOD LOOKING AS MIZZ DELANEYTEEN FROM 1969, YO.

LET ME NOW SAY A QUICK THING THAT I WILL COME BACK LATER WITH MUCH MORE ABOUT...................................

I opened up the story of the Bluebook, and Quantum Mechanics, Project-UFO-USAF, and so much more, and told you that NONE of this cover up, has to do with real space aliens, saucers; or anything like this. It is only about a million fucking times bigger than any of that, and it would be instantly destructive to the powers that be, and their horrendous hold over all of us; that began with the unknown MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY in 1948, and led within a few years; to the BLUEBOOK INVESTIGATION, and its short life, after the magic seal was placed on it a few years later. I am going to shortly begin showing all of you, how to do unimaginable small things, just as a proof to you; that I am not a Doctor Goldberg nut, from the Dishonorable Air Force. It is coming very soon, but not right now. I must use all the available time now to fight the Quantum (Q) Worlds, in other more pressing ways. I can totally promise, that somebody, somewhere; will be very sorry, after the huge EARTHQUAKE wipes out so many innocent lives; and all I can say is, I AM VERY, VERY, VERY, MOTHER FUCKING SORRY. “I DID NOT START THIS FUCKING TRANSDIMENSIONAL WAR”. THE EGGS FROM THE HARBOR DID, 50 MILLION FUCKING YEARS AGO, AND THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE, KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT. COLOR ME SO IMPRESSED, YELLOW SHEETS ON THE MAKE-ME-THINK BEDS, OF JULIA WHITENIGHTMARES BRISCOE. GAWKY GAUKAUK WILL TELL ME LATER TODAY, WHY THIS WAS SO OFF THE SCALE FUCKING MONSTROUS TODAY. LET ME QUICKLY TELL YOU HOW TO OPERATE THIS PART OF THE GAWNUM FOLKS. YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET YOUR FUCKING MINDS BLOWN IF YOU WOULD JUST TRY IT, AND KNOW I WOULD NOT STEER YOU WRONG, AS WHAT WOULD I GAIN BY SHOWING YOU, THAT I AM JUST A STUPID FUCKING NO GOOD CRAZY CAT FOOL, YO?

Take a set of ordinary playing cards, and remove tens, royals, and jokers, leaving you with four suits of aces through nines. You'll have a total of 36 cards. If you like having more cards, then add in your second deck of cards, but remove the same cards, and then shuffle this bunch of 72 cards, and while you are shuffling, and drawing the cards that I'll explain about in just a second, you need to be thinking about your question to the cosmos, and only about this, nothing else can enter into your thoughts, as the thoughts will be responded to by your two card picks. For example, I will be asking several things today, and my very first question will be, how come today was so fucking major monstrous, with all this shit, happening against me; in this unfathomable procession? Now as I continue to dwell on this query, and only on this; I will shuffle, and then randomly decide to draw one single card, the value of the ace is number one, and the 2-9 is the number itself. So my two card draws will be done as follows. I will pick the first card and write down the number value as root-digit-one, in the PCN-GAWNUM. Then while still pondering on my question, and only this, with NOTHING ELSE WHATSOEVER happening in my mental thoughts, again, at pure random; I will draw the second pick, as this will be root-digit-two, in the PCN-GAWNUM, (Gawky Gaukauk's Numerology). The third digit is always the difference between the two digits of the root digits, and this gives the PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER (PCN). Later before this holiday HELLIDAY is over, I will tell you what number popped out and, all of the matching things pertaining to that number that show up in my booklet of “PCN-LISTINGS”, as I refer to this as. I will also tell you what Gawky has to say about why and or how, the sound of 'MI' got onto the original “Real Good Girl” song, in 1986; onto the open-reel-master-audio tape. I will tell quite a few things, that the Gawnum said; and highlight some powerful doozies, that were spoken to me, over the past few years; since I learned why my mom never cared about being a grandmother. YUK-YUK-YUK-YUK-FRANKLIN FUNNY, Sheila.

Take the mind bending shit, this fucking far with me, you diseased 'Q, Satan, World of E, or whatever' you choose to see your twisted sick selves as; and do not expect a benign counterstrike, or else; you seriously fucking underestimate me, BRAH!!!!!!!! Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.

THANK-YOU SO MUCH, for not leaving me SSJK. I did not think you would, but I do admit that I need to trust you a lot more. You know I trust nobody, and everything is perceived negatively by me. For this I am so very sorry. Please bear with me through this nightmare. I will not let you down. Tell Ding-Dong, that I am not as dumb as he thought I was, if you have not all ready done this. What does this SOB want from me? He all ready owns the planet, has you; and all the other TQ's he wants; behind your back. I am surely not telling you something that is news to you. I know your holiday will be a bit better than mine is shaping up to be, and I am at least happy for that. Tell Paula I am not afraid of her, and that I said to be careful. Yesterday, I was driving home from work, and a man with a jersey, crossed the street in front of me, while I was stopped at a red traffic light. The number of “1996”, on this jersey; was unmissable. A few seconds later, an orange Explorer Mini non-Viqueen-van, was in front of me, license plate, FLORIDA, and NIKKY, if my memory is serving me half correctly. This van vanished in front of me. I took my eyes off of the road, for less than five seconds; and it did a 'Selena Dada beach day at Central Pier' on me, poof, gone; with Electroluv and Electrolux, and 'hubby Darren'. The only magic missed here, were the words 'Road-Trip'!!!

So for whoever is attacking me, so ruthlessly, and viciously; MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, SCAN THEM, AND TOTALLY DESTROY THEM, and ALL OF THEIR LOVED ONES, UNDER ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS, AND----S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*****************END TRANSMISSION:*****************

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0270

2011-11-20T00:52:00.000-08:00

SOMEONE DID THEIR BEST TO PREVENT ME FROM LOGGING ON TO THE SITE.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0270
1:54 AM-EST, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2011
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
NO 4TH S.T.

BEGINNING BLOG:

This is a message to my government who loves and adores me so much, and could care less about my seventh grand pop, Sammy H. He and his pals only started this whole thing and won their independence from British Monarchy, and began the greatest experiment in history, the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Don't mind me if I am in the way up here in the future, and breathing, and taking up your wonderful space.

Forgive me for being born. I am sorry my parents fucked and had me, Unk Sam, but that was a little bit beyond my control. Maybe I should have learned how to fly over the radar system before my dad yellow out, wheeeeeee, on one particular dark night somewhere in the first week of March, in 1954. So-sorry, Mister Ambassador, and Teddy.

Since you all despise my living guts so much, you will be happy to know that I will be out of your wonderful EMPIRE and in a very dangerous location, before too long, so you can have your GOOD-RIDDANCE PARTY, very shortly. Maybe I'll be shot and killed. We all know that this will be a meaningless event. Having a little bit of information is extremely deadly dangerous, this is an old lesson, taught to nearly every child, by nearly every parent, the world around and practically forever. My lack of knowledge that I played a forbidden game with, was the world of the Quantum. This is a world that is completely unforgiving, there are no crosses, saviors to die for sins, or any other atomic plus sized world mumbo-jumbo. Things like this can work there, but simply not in the 'places' where I have played in however.

I will tell the wonderful and omnipotent government of mine now, some of the true story; that may, or may not, have ever been officially blogged; in my more than six years of these blogs.

On several occasions, you have tapped my telephone, entered my premises with FISA Warrants, as I came to learn from my indirect EW friends, financed through perhaps the cousins of old 1965 pal, Alan J. Wolf, of Princeton, NJ. You learned nothing, because there is nothing to learn. I am not keeping any secrets from you. To your surprise, most of the peeps you watch and follow, would gladly, as I would, give their eye teeth to work with you in a collaborated effort, to find out just why we have been chosen to be on the receiving end of some kind of something, that we do not totally or even barely partially understand. Let me speak for myself, as I only really have the right to do. I would sell my soul to the devil, or whatever the reality equivalent to that nonsense is, to work with you on my problem. You know it is real, don't try and mother fucking bullshit me for a second, all though of course you will. I would love to have all of this stopped, as you would love to not have the worry of my abilities to damage your precious empire and capitalism out of control. Still, this seemingly endless stalemate fight between us rages on, and will, because you don't have the stones to stop this and work with me, against these quantum forces. You know I am not a nut. You know it is all real a million times better than I do, and this is why you closed the books. This is why I faced the unfathomable brick wall of AT&T in 1983. This is why I had the fucking brainpower to use your Copyright Office, to at least keep some kind of record and proof that I lived here on this Earth, and indeed suffered through these inconceivable and monstrous woes. If I knew a better way, I would not have bothered the Library of Congress with tons of garbage, over the past 36 years since 1975. If you think I will ever forget the many ugly details, of my moving from 1802 Robin Hill apartments in Voorhees, NJUSAESMWG, into 134 Norris Avenue in Atco, NJUSAESMWG, on the 1st day of February of 1983, you are sadly-Carrie unforgettably mistaken. The entire EW is also in for a rude awakening, if they think what they have done to me since the early eighties, will go unpunished. The evil that you have done, magically has gone 180 degrees, and has now revealed, and goes on revealing; no matter how you may now try and avoid it; all the truths in my entire miserable hell ridden life.

I am going to tell the powers that be in this world, my powerful recent interaction, somewhere in hyperspace. A number of days ago, I retired to bed around 1 or so in the morning, and fell into an instant weird as shit sleep. Strange noises were all around me, in my room, but not. Then I was back in 1986, in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG. Suddenly, I go up and realized the calendar showed the time as December in 1986, a quarter of a fucking century ago. It was my birthday, the 4th, coming up shortly. My mother was an entirely different person, so I was not in a localized hyperspace, but more distant. I hated my neighbors, what else is new?, in the reality that I remember now in waking present 2011 life, but over there, I had made friends with them, the ass holes from the next yard to the south of Richard Barf Karpf's home at 1931 Marlton Pike, one and the same thing as Route #70. Blog 0270 seems appropriate for all this to be happening. The Wolf clan would say this is purely unintentional and coincidental, but I know it is always a little more than that, because I understand the Quantum worlds where everything that we think we are, is all inside of. Simply put peeps, there are two powerful secrets in this living world of the non-dead folks, one may be talked about on science channels, not both. It goes like this. Nothing is the same if event A is observed, or not observed. The observation of the event-A is part of the event-A. It literally is one thing if observed, and if ignored by all of the 6th dimension, it then becomes the event, with the difference of the inclusion of a variation. Said in another way, observed it is an apple pie, and ignored, it is an apple pie in a state of quantum flux, where it can become observed as the pie, or ignored and re-observed, as the same energy of this pie, but in a totally different form, still equal to E=MC-SQ, however, this goes beyond that formula that is used for multiple purposes. Many laboratory scientists have experimented with a complicated and expensive, relative to my resources anyway; set of scientific parameters that constitute so-called legitimate scientific research. However, as the nineteen eighties ended and gave birth to the nineties; a friend of mine and myself, were forced against out wills, to do our own experiments, and take my word for it when I say, it beat the living shit out of any laboratory experiment that has been unclassified and known of by me. There are numerous ways that the human brain can play in the worlds of the QUANTA SYSTEMS, but be warned, as with all things not fully understood, shit happens, side effects, unspeakable reality manifests, and it truly is a Donna Summer one way door that goes way beyond the earliest morning light of Alaskan Junes. Just as atoms have chain reactions, and domino's fall into each other, you need to picture two dudes figuring out how to play a game where it starts with regular sized domino's, only they get more sizable and heavier every so many, say an increase for example picked at pure random, of 5% increase every 30 or 40 blocks. Now this will not seem like a real effect when you dwell on 100 or 1000 or whatever, but starting at our residence in South Jersey, or Eastern Philadelphia, by the time they would reach the skyline of say, New York City, they would be like Empire State Building's falling down onto each other and literally with sufficient force to knock the entire city down. But without continuing on with this, keep in mind that even a broke bum on a ghetto street, can yell “FUCK YOU” at somebody. The trick is what is going to happen after that by approximate nature, or can this approximate nature become interfered with, and with a spiraling domino effect. We found out, it indeed can. We also learned a bigger secret than this, and that would be that everything is in a cycle, and this truth can be used to harness an unmeasured energy in the present times. I only use the word energy as in its scientific terminology, E divided by T is P. ENERGY divided by TIME, equals POWER, and power is measured as work. An amount of weight lifted, or a total amount of weight moved, etcetera. Energy is measured in 'ERGS' however, not in events. This is way to complex to blog about on an internet. Let me continue, and simplify; as best as is possible. We were not trying to produce work-energy or ERGS, but EVENT-ENERGY, that cannot as yet in non-quantum status, be any kind of known measurable item. When I spoke of parlor tricks and magic, along the lines of Carnival games and shows and Vegas Magic Acts, this is indeed a powerful kind of energy. It can be quantified as the power of illusion. Just as enough electricity can electrocute and kill a person, enough illusion can kill, or cause injury, or any one of a million possibilities. On top of that, the power of illusion or reality-mirage (RM), can be merged with other energies, and I am speaking more of the unmeasurable types, all though anything can be done.

Yes, I altered the events of the entire Planet Earth, and this is no science fiction thriller work here. This is the blog, and the true words, of an admission of guilt; to a crime for which in 2011, there is no legal ability, for any law enforcement agency that I am aware of anyway, to legally prosecute me in any known atomic plus sized court of law. Before I go further on however, I did not wake up one day and decide to do experiments in world of the quantum, n or am I some evil Frankenstein fucking monster. There are many rumors floating around about me, the biggest one is that I am a huge nut, and to which I simply retort, there is a chapter in a best seller book, that tells how indeed I appear as a nut, as this was predetermined by powerful forces all ready established in the worlds of the quantum, and I speak of the BLUEBOOK.

Moving back for now, to the wild “DREAM” where it was my 32nd birthday again, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG; we can return, and will most definitely return, I'll assure you my readers, to this quantum topic, but for now, I was talking about the neighbors from the south end yard, being my good friends over in this other universe, somewhere in the vast hyperspace. The neighbor, was Selena Dada, who I have mentioned in many blogs. She owned a rooming-house in this universe, on Stenton Place, in South-Central Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, back in the nineteen-seventies. She had fallen in love with the audio speakers that I had built, and over there, not only did I have the ones that I had here at that time, but I had built a really strange pair that were like no others, and had just applied for a patent on them. She was offering me millions of dollars for them, and I was laughing and told her I would build her a pair for cost, and that would be 600 bucks. She told me that because I was so nice and not charging what she wanted to offer me, that she was going to tell me that the ghost of JH that appeared to me in 1974 on the beach near the Atlantic City Central Pier, 'as he did in this universe where I am typing this, only she did not say that', had been a parlor trick. I asked her to tell me more, and she sat down on a bright orange loveseat, that I never owned over here in this universe 25 years ago by the way; and she looked at me with soft eyes, and spoke in a softer voice than before, and told me to remember how she had made a big deal about my shoes back in 1974. I told her that I remembered it well. She then told me that my shoes were magical, and that just as with the mythical 'Dorothy' , and the mythical 'Wizard of Oz' movie; I never knew that those shoes were magical, and then it hit me in the DREAM, and listen super carefully peeps, this is quite huge. These shoes never got old, I remembered that totally. I kept them since they were purchased in 1973 while going to the PCI computer school at the Cherry Hill Mall, at the One Cherry Hill Building, Suite 400, operated by Pete Hasse of WFIL-AM Radio in Philly, along with a mobster named Tedesco, who indeed knew James Hoffa, and other Sicilian Club Members. Selena Dada told me to ask my shoes a question, any question, quote, end of quote. I did. I asked why the word MI got onto the master open reel tape of the song I had done a few months back, and copyrighted, called, “Real good girl”. The shoes answered me back, in my own voice. They were one monotone sound of my exact voice, and they spoke just as tad louder than normal conversation, but not at a shouting level. The answer was, The sound on the tape is known in the future as a quantum fitting. I thought the shoes were mocking me, and they gave me sillier answers as I persisted on with the MI-MYSTERY. They insisted there was no knock on the door, no Propophol spray in the face, or anything weird at all, merely that what needed to go on the tape, became observed onto it. Selena interrupted the agitated conversation between my shoes and myself, suddenly, and she said to me, her friend is a Quantum Physicist, and he talked at length with her on the subject, and she went on to explain many things to me. This will be topic for a future blog. It seems that I was in a small hypnotic trance when hearing keywords or suggestions, ever since 1969 when the great PK had her way with me on Fireworks Night, under the boardwalk. She had told me earlier before she forced me to have sex with her, that she had many friends in the world of education. She told me that she would do me a favor in return for giving her a Huntington Daughter, and relinquishing any hold or rights on her. I asked her what this quid pro quo would be, putting it of course in the language of a fourteen and a half year old boy. She said that I would receive a high school diploma without ever attending a high school, and also, that she would be monitoring me for the rest of my life to make sure that I am all right, but I can never ever see my future daughter. If I ever broke my promise, the full weight of the Empire State Building in NYC would come down on me until the day that I die. On the 15th day of August at just past ten at night, in 1986, this is exactly what happened. But more than that happened, said Selena, in this powerful ass dream a few nights back. She said that if I ever saw her, it would begin right away, and then I would see her seven years later, with no memory of the event, and that more horrendous nightmares would come to me down the road a result, through the unremembered encounter, than could be fathomed. Also, it would lead to my Pandora Box, a flooding of memories that would invoke a family reunion that would cause me to lose everything I have in the world. When I awoke from this powerful interaction, I now am seriously wondering if I have a daughter by the name of Leticia Tilley, and three grandchildren. In any event, I never a chance to say what I was supposed to say at the Harvest. Why have you wiped me out so badly, my lovely Paula King, AKA, ~~~~~~~~~~~?

Major Saturday strings of hell, finally broke. I did have one fire alarm, there never is a weekend without at least one. Still, this weekend has been a tad bit quieter. Selena Dada may have died for all I know, I think Colorado John did, and that is why the vivid interaction happened with him back around the time my blogs were new, and I was still living in my trailer, in Mullica Township. Still, what she said about the great building in NYC, caused me to do my three videos again, only differently this time, up on the U-TUBE. In order to view them, you would go to U-Tube. Then they are titled under artist MARK MOHR, either WANNA' SPEND MY TIME, DON'T HIDE NINA, and MI APOLOGY SONG. No one goes up to my sites, they never have. It is all a parlor trick. I found out that it is against the U-Tube policy, so I wonder how other people get thousands and millions of hits, and I get none. Is this a real reality, or part of Selena and Paula's Quantum Punishment of the HUNTINGTON CURSE, but not in reverse? Only the yellow sheets in Washington-13 have these answers, I'll bet. Oh well, the Quantum IS, and it waits for no one. It is and it isn't, and at the same time. It can produce infinite illusions, and makes all of us PAS entities participate in their game with no start and no stop, it always was and will be, an ongoing mirage, and no one is smart enough to get it. If the government really was so smart and had a clue, they wouldn't be poking around all through my life, since I met you Patty, they do not know, but you do, and I know that. Happy driver license collections. Why not get together with Perkowski and trade comic books and ball cards with plastic identities? You know, roller skates, keys, chains, and BOBS. I am very sad that you did me this way PK. The only reason I broke my word in 1986, was because of what Selena said in the dream. They could not allow me to prosper and break the curse that you would be putting on me, so do you see how the casino round robin of time-squared Star Trek, caused this entire debokle in the first place? What will be, all ready was caused by what was. Is this fair? Please end the Huntington Curse, Patty. Thank you so much, and no hard feelings, sweet love.

END BLOG.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0269

2011-11-17T12:41:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0269
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THE SECRETS OF THE LIGHT REVEALED, BLUEBOOK HEWITT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
© 2006-2011----WORLD LABORATORIES, PROJECT MORIANITY

BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:

I am under a super THANKS-2-GIVENS normal calendar cycle death siege straight from mother fucking hell. This blog will be short and sweet. It is the afternoon of the week before Thanksgiving, on this 17th day in this BOTBAR-11-MONTH, AKA-November, in 2011.

FIRST OFF, I AM BEING HIT HARD. THERE IS PROPERTY DAMAGE INVOLVED, WHICH EVEN THE GREATEST FEMALE RA ON THIS PLANET IDENTIFIES WITH PERSONALLY, AND KNOWS IT IS NOT IMAGINED; ALSO THERE IS NEIGHBORHOOD ATTACK, HEALTH ATTACK, AND MAJOR CHEMTRAILING ONGOING OUTSIDE, LOOK UP THWE TOPIC OF “CHEMTRAIL” ON U-TUBE, OR ANYWHERE ON THE ENTIRE GOOGLE SYSTEM, FOR THAT MATTER.

I woke up out of a wild mother fucking DREAMING-INTERACTION-EXPERIENCE, and instantly, when I tried to watch television, nothing worked, everything seemed dead, this lasted for 5-10 minutes, then I shut it all down, calmly waited a few minutes, restarted everything, and it was just as if nothing had been mother fucking ass wrong in the first mother fucking constitutional rights violated place, Supreme court Justices, IN CASE YOU MIGHT CARE, DUDES AND DUDDESSES. I need your dam help old school pal from Haddonfield, New Jersey, and overseer of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION.

Earlier in the day I woke up quite rudely to my nutty ass neighbors that love to scream and shout out in the hallways for all to hear and be bothered by. They seem to be fruit basket cases, but I also know this entire thing, here at the building, at work at the HARVEST, and all over the fucking place such as my wild experiences at the TD BANK, or the BEACH over at Hutchinson Island, in the past, all of this and so much mother fucking more, is all coming from and directed by, the EVIL-WOMO. GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS. GOOGLE UP GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY AND COVER UP, PROJECT BLUEBOOK AND UFO, ALIEN ABDUCTION, and many great topics, and you just might learn some fucking shit. First, there are no aliens or ships from outer space or anything like this at all, not in 'reality'. You can create all this in your mind, and reverse the normal process of the eye transmitting to the mind, and thus, there are infinite Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities, right hubby Darren?

It is obvious to a mentally challenged or a mentally ill person, let alone a 'normal' person, which is a subjective standard and rating system, by whoever decided to be in charge of just what normal really is; that my blog that I posted onto the great internet earlier this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning,was by no means appreciated, by SOME ONE OR SOME THING, CA[PTAIN SHATNER, WITH GREAT POWER, as it sure wasted no time to exact its major fucking revenge on me for posting it. I still contend that this wonderful THAT-FAMILY from the 1970 nightmares, all scum-bagged out on me, whether 'they' want me posting this or not, and UI really could care less what this evil bunch of lighters does or does not want, at this point in time, Senator.

As for great Hollywood productions, shows of sci-fi coming into their own as the 20th century worked its way closer and closer towards this one; there was a great writer that most of you know of, and the Lambrigger Cult here in human form AKA as the EW (Entertainment World), knows and adores this dude, Mister Dick, I call him MIDI-DROID for my own little code, still, he knew majoer things, and he knew it was not all totally so much limited to the world of fiction-only. He had personal experiences, and one of them, that repeated upon several occasions in his life, and literally saving the life of his small child, as a result of one of these said experiences, with a beautiful pink-colored brilliant light. Bright light that tends to move into varying frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum and thus causing it to be seen and observed in multiple colors, or in some cases as one non-white color, is not limited to the Jennifer Love Hewitt Ghost Whisperer Show, or ghosts in general, yet it can be connected. Due to many unknown complexities in the realities and worlds of the sub-atomic, in our dark age dinosaur year of 2011, next to say 100 years from now; nothing is as constant as the great Einsteins Light velocity or “C”. Keeping this all simple and thus more easily readable, let me tell you how this great “LIGHT”, has interacted with me; and then tie all of this into what the great PROJECT BLUEBOOK, decided in their mighty infinite wisdom through the omnipotent UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND GOVERNMENT; what I have decided to term and name and label, the RLR. This can stand for Relative-Light-Reality. It is a fancy way of saying that there are not a lot of textbook rules and laws written in stone, such as gravitation, or forbidden man-made taboo legislation's resulting from any intentional cover-ups. Before I tackle the herculean task of over simplifying and abridging monstrous sized potential text and college degree sized information here, let me start by saying merely this, my peeps. Nothing at all is even close to the way you now believe that it is, I PROMISE YOU THAT. As both my special kids know only too well, all I am ever seeking after, personally, is the truth and if I can come close to reaching some of it, then alagazam, fanfreakingtastic and marvfab; but whether we all like or hate, or place anywhere in the middle; any particular 'reality' and 'truth', as these are 'really' the same two words, only spelled differently; take it away from us and let us keep all else, or even give the entire state of Nevada to someone, deed and title, but take away forever, their truth and their reality, they have been made to suffer a cosmic loss that has no way of being described with these limited words that I can type in combination with this keyboard, though hard and long I may persevere. What little reality that all of us find, needs to be mother fucking treasured and locked away in our cosmic safes, and guarded by 5,000 armies, each as powerful as the troops protecting America's Fort Knox. Underestimate these words at your own doing and doom, because if any blog ever written and posted by me, mountainpen, was attempting to help humanity, it is this one, and it these few words. Now for the great light of Jenny Hewitt, and MIDI SCIFI, and me,. And so many others, despite the 'Blue-Book' and their relentless attempts to keep these truths away from the common folk, or for those of us not smart enough, to fuck up our country, and government; the way our genius Military, and Washington Politicians have done, for so long, and so dam well. Give me a break at the speed of light squared, or at about 34.7 billion miles per second.

I am going to keep this ultra simple and ultra shortened and compressed. Many have seen this “LIGHT”. This light comes in many forms. My interactions with it began after I followed a small toddler that convinced me in some unfathomable way, up in Suffolk County, New York one day early in the nineteen-seventies, to follow her through an accessible area in a yard fence, into a home, and into a strange and brilliantly lit up corridor that was directly off of a larger area or room, with a man standing outside of it, who I later went onto meet at a Health club in the year 1995, called Haddonwood. This child was later to grow up to be, the great Mariah Carey, who we all know so well, and adore her heavenly voice. By the way MC, your twins are absolutely adorable, and hopefully not quite as rambunctious as you were. In any case, we both know that distant cousins of yours did some really unspeakable things to me, and it is far from completely unfolding yet, but that is my concern and worry, not yours. I understand and respect that, MC. What I want is for you to someday explain why you did what YOU did, I know that your distant's are not your concern, and I never meant to burden you with any of that. That never was my intention. All I am seeking after, is the truth; and do not care if even you believe this or not, brown-eyes. Moving on now with when you were very small, you were holding this 'thing' in one of your hands, and it was a strobing bright light that was extremely bright, and the majority of its colors were blinding pink, purple, and white. You were doing everything you could to show me this light, you wanted me to see both it and that you were in control of it, yet all the while, carefully watching out for Colaman out in the larger area, who did eventually catch you showing this to me, and came over and then he hit you, and this upset me so badly, that to this day, I dream of busting his lip, I will not lie to you. One year or maybe two years later, my mother had a co-worker at her office who gave her some information like nothing I had ever seen, and to be totally honest, like nothing I have ever seen even to this very day, decades later. It caused me to investigate and learn something called the Fascitar, and later on as a result of this; I saw the light again. After my teen years ended, I saw this light upon many occasions, after being electrocuted in 1977 at the Carriage Lamp Apartments on the White Horse Pike, in SPR-headquartered, Clementon, New Jersey, and every subsequent time where I intentionally moved from the physical word, over to the Astral-Plane. This light is a trick of the memory. There is no simple way to tell this monster ass secret to the world. The light is the precursor of the truth that we all are all ready experiencing. The time in 1997, twenty years after I stuck a walkie-talkie antenna directly into a 220-volt air conditioner outlet, that will be cited here in an illustrated example that makes my point and attempts to better place this idea into usable text. Unlike when I was electrocuted in 1977 by holding a metallic walkie-talkie, and sticking the antenna into a 220 volt socket, this time, I awoke in the middle of the night, with a waking freeze. Simpler put, I woke up while still in dream-state, a dual or bi-located state of the brain, not at all understood by the present-day psychiatric profession, but who am I to sit here typing these bruising ego words, as this is not my intent, to offend, or turn off readers, I need their attention and willingness to accept my knowledge as real and not deluded fantasy.

Let me tell the story of this light, as it may be remembered slightly differently with each individual separate experience, and by each individual human being having this experience while here in this waking human life and realm of their existence. It was 1977, I was out of my mind, admittedly, I was completely insane. I was desperate to locate a person from my past, the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, who I went on to learn is and always was and will be, the All Mighty Jehovah Scylla Goddess of all of creation, HER CREATION. I could say really mind blowing stuff here, and this would only serve to defeat my purpose, I am trying to keep things toned down and dialed back, and hold onto a few readers, if I am lucky. Suddenly when this waking freeze hit me, I felt my breath and heartbeat stop. I had a loud fan in the room blowing nice cool air on me, and a small night light plugged in across the room, as a week before that, I tripped and stubbed my toe while trying to find the light-switch so I could get up and get something to drink. When my life ended by the standards of neurosurgeons, and other med-experts; it was a quitet peaceful lovely experience. The fan went silent, the room went pitch dark, there was nothingness, void, I wanted to hold onto this void and stay there, and I remained for quite a while. Suddenly I thought to myself, maybe now in this state, I can find my SARAH. I thought about HER, HER lovely city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, (HEAVEN), and a few other quick thoughts, and within what seemed like 5 or maybe 10 seconds tops, boom, a blinding brilliant all encompassing light was one and the same thing with my thoughts or “ME”, and then in another 2 or 3 seconds, I WAS IN THIS CITY, this indescribable city, and SHE was right there with me, her long beautiful hair shinning down from more than six and a half feet of HER great height, and then I came to see that it was HER hair that was the entire light, the entire city, all of it. Moses supposedly experienced a similar deal with his burning bush, on top of the Zion Mountain, which the cosmos as a result, named both a mountain, and later a great project, and a great goddess in a human form, and merged it all together. Thus these words have all been penned, a mountain of truth, a project named MORIANITY, and all the while, never realizing that connections were all there to begin with, just as the interactions are all there and are merely this incredible light. Whether it be a so called 'real' or a computer generated 'virtual' reality, the same experience takes place, if the brain is measured. This was explained quite well on the science channel last night, on my Fort Pierce, Florida Comcast Cable Lineup, it is channel-#110.

Other following blogs will explore way more about Haddonwood, the light, and the strange man from Washington, DC who came over in 1995, to visit me there. Nothing just happens, it is all connected into itself, and it is all this mind blowing LIGHT, that is all anything really ever was or can be for that matter. Biblical accounts discuss void darkness, and then Jehovah-Scylla speaking the words, “LET THERE BE LIGHT”. Then in the wisdom of man, a United States Air Force, said one day, “LET THERE BE BLUEBOOK”, no more talking about this great light, or this wonderful special creator GODDESS, SSJK. Well, guess what, I have not begun, KAREN, top blow the lid off of all of this, as you won't leave me alone, so fine, I will make it my absolute mission statement and business, to end the way of life that all of you capitalist pigs ate perpetuating and perpetrating your evil mischievousness on us little 99-ers.

Haddonwood, Colaman, and Gerard Stiles are not gone, nor were they ever here. The sub atomic truth is way too big to try and tackle on this little blog today, folks, so sorry, Ambassador Bomb of December 7th of 1941, keep the volume down on my song, © Office, I do not want to have to pay for new audio monitors for you, at level 4, level 6, or even 46-46-46-46.

END TRANSMISSION.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0268

2011-11-17T00:28:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0268
2:07 AM-EST-THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2K11
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE: “TUESDAY SIEGE WAS BEYOND INCONCEIVABLE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN------(C) 2006-2011
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

THE LARGE LOUD MENACING CHOPPER THAT HAS BEEN ON ME, SINCE THE MIDDLE NINETEEN-EIGHTIES; WAS ALL OVER ME ON TUESDAY, LIKE FLIES ON A GARBAGE TRUCK, IN HOT ASS JULY.

I had tremendous aerial siege from numerous sky-crafts, and fire alarms waking me from sleep, as well as many other monstrous other death strikes from my enemy, the Milituforce, Otammites, also known as (AKA) MO. I had a major health attack from beams or poisons or however this is accomplished by the WOMO or the World-Owners-MO. I am never permitted to have anyone over at my residence, without suffering major siege from this dirt bag group of toilet bowl lapping sub-scum. I could go on and on with this, it is a huge reality, and the problem is simply that I am wasting my time, as nobody will believe me, nothing new at all, and of course, is what the WOMO totally counts on to keep them endlessly powerful, and relentlessly evil. On top of all of this, good old mother freaking hot ass Florida is real hot again, after a short couple of weeks of a cool down, as we always seem to get the 1969-New Jersey-Indian Summer, in this gods forsaken paradise. Weather peeps are predicting a possible record breaking afternoon high later on today, near 90.

Why the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle listened to my plea more than twelve-thousand years ago, about not wiping everything out; is a total enigma to me. Still, she did, and I thank HER for granting my plea as misguided as it was, as now; things are not quite the same between us. Still, some things never do change. Also I know what is real, and what is imagined. I also know that reality is as misunderstood by humankind in 2011, as germs and hand-washing was to the medical community back around three-hundred years ago. Still, I am speaking out to a world who will not listen or believe me on a conscious waking level, and I fully appreciate my dire and bleak circumstances, based on this unfortunate 'reality'. All of this being said, what no one alive understands in the dark ages of the 21st century, is the fact that there is a mental realm or a mind dimension, that sends a series of energetic signals onto an Astral-Plane, a sort of arena that could be visualized as a virtual reality being jacked into by the famous Lawn Mower Man, from the movie. From this realm, energy slowly is drained by interactions that exist totally independent of any space-time dimensions of 'reality', and after so many interactions, dream-downs, for lack of a better way of saying it, begin happening, and these energetic signals of pure mind that form Astral Entities, then move further downward into what can be termed, a 5th dimensional hyperspace, a series of unlimited 4-D parallel-universes, where these signals take on a waking human form, as us in this so-called here and now physical life. None of these words, or any others spoken, could ever hope to do justice to explaining all of this so that anyone is going to read it and be hit by Edison's light bulb and yell out, “WO, I got it, BRO”, and have a Selena Dada life altering experience as a result. Again, I know 'reality'. I accept 'reality'. Still, I will go on blogging, as a gambler goes on gambling, fully knowing they are throwing away their beloved family, their nice home, and their way of life. Also, just as Satan knew perfectly well, that he was cutting off his prick to burn his ass by sending Jesus Christ to die on the cross, but his emotions got the better of this great android/angel/ created being/whatever Congressman RA. You can fake it all you want, you, all of you, we all know what is going on, or what 'reality' is there, and who knows it better than the mighty Astral-Plane Lambrigger Cult along the Teck Bay?

One strange unexplainable event after another, continues to manifest around me, at work, at home, and all places that I am forced to go. If I ever told the entire story, and one percent of the world read it, and one percent of those that read it believed it; the entire Milky Way would become Lactose Intolerant and melt away into oblivion in the wink of an asshole hair.

The power of the Sixth Dimension, or the Mind Realm, is beyond any possible verbal description. All the words in Websters dictionary, scrambled into infinite combinations, would appear benign and ubiquitous in any attempt thereof to epitomize utter foolishness. All I can say is this, as the 'spirit leads' in any 'reality'. This MIND when it arrives in 4-D space-time universes, such as this one, but what one as when you read this, if you read this, whoever YO are, what sub-atomic changes have occurred in-between then, and me back in time typing this in my-now? Google is a prime example. It appears to read your mind, and do even things beyond that, you all know what I mean, the way you begin typing a Google-Search, and no longer need to even finish things or hit the enter key in many cases. Biological mind, or binary machine mind, is still MIND, and mind is from a realm called the 6th-Dimension, this is just truth, or AKA 'reality'. When an awake person has enemies from the Astral-Plane, and is aware of stuff, Arnie Kennedy; this becomes quite a lethal combination, as Mister Carter and his glaring eyes, knows only two dam well. I knew I was dead, and so did you, huh Jimmy? Do you think I will forget things like that or Goddesses singing LOIS FOCA songs to me, just because 15 or 30 little years of mortal time happens to tick tock away? Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.

Here is what you do in GAWNUM study to arrive at a compatible or non-compatible answer. My PCN is 871. Let us compare PCN-671. Add the two numbers and get a total or a PCNT. This would be 1542 in the example illustrated here. The PCNT-1542 must contain at least one digit in it that matches a digit in both the numbers being matched together, the 671 and the 871. The one matches in the PCNT, there is a one in both 871 and in 671. The more matches, the merrier, but the minimum is one match, total to compared numbers. When I quizzed the GAWNUM on the best time to leave the wonderful family and run away down to Florida in December 2010, I got the PCN for the words Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King, PCN-550, and then tried various dates of month and year PCN, and DECEMBER TWO THOUSAND TEN , matched up GAWNUMLY, I do not remember my exact words, only that whatever I said, both PCN were 550, and the PCNT would come to 1100, a strong double matching zero. So on the eleventh of December when Dawn accused me of unthinkable things, I left and came to Florida, and have been here ever since, and as the great Esolphs Fable might read beyond this, “And that's that”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now taking any total or PCNT and multiplying it by 16, on a calculator, a really magical thing will happen. Simply hit your square root button after that and let the full display that the majority of calculator machines provide, come out on the screen, and ignore the decimal, and add zeros to any number that comes out shy of the normal amount of eight digits. This is called the BRANCHCODE NUMBER in a GAWNUM and in the case of 550 and 550, we get 1100 times 16 to square root equals, with the decimal point rermoved, using eight digits, 13266499. To find branch-codes, work from the left to right in 3-groups, the first being 132, then 326, then 266, and so forth, and see if any numbers are legitimate PCN. In the case of an 1100-BC (Branch-Code), right away, there is the 132, then two numbers dowbn further, we have the 264, and then that is the end of possible codes, so the two BC numbers of 1100 are PCN-132, and PCN-264. You take the roots or two digits, and go down the line to see if any remaining digits can become a PCN. It can be right next to the root, or the final digit away. Some total PCN have no branch-codes, others can have three or so, most have one or two. Then when you get a book of things that you work out PCN to, you can see how things all interconnect in life. You are not imagining any of this, this is a magical way to know all the guarded secrets of the cosmos. Why do I give out powerhouse information for nothing, many wonder. Ask the US Copyright Office why nobody trusts you if you stand on the corner, giving away free ten dollar bills. Oh the suspicious minds of the elders and the gold minors, and all of us. Yes, it is a true Earth shaking experience to ponder on, folks.

Why do electronic things work the way they do? Well, in simple terms, they operate in five full dimensions, despite all of us recording our movies and movies and whatever, in only four of these, and in the 'reality' of most, only three, thus, when we use electronics, because electrons are 5th dimensional sub-atomic particles; they are sensitive to transdimensional reality shifts. So if you dream you hear a song that is not known in the waking world, thus it comes from a parallel universe somewhere where your dreaming-mind was 'visiting', now should you record this in some way, even a U-Tube upload, anything involving electronics, it causes many reality shifts and low frequency shocks, that can become violent weather, not excluding earthquakes, and major disturbances. It happens without fail, the first time were my two dance tunes in 1980, and boom, Mount Saint Helen's blew up in a volcano. Then, I noticed it was every single freaking time.

If any powerful deity is trying to impress me with their magic or cruelty, you have underestimated my new shock value. Still, the 6th dimension, the Gawnum, and electronic metaphysics remains a powerful arsenal in my army, and will not be vanishing into Copperfield Blaine's bunny rabbit trick hat, any time soon. I knew when Hydroglacia the great Astral City, materialized that night at Cifaloglio, and then flew back into distant orbit in the MWG, that my problems were only getting started. Whether Scylla knows it or not, I was too early for a change Ernie Merker. Don't bite me too hard, July Dane. Even Eddie was impressed with that, and it took a lot to impress that Einstein double. If you are out here old buddy, the entire family scum bagged out on me, and took me for every thing I had. Maybe this makes some peeps happy. Stay out of jail. The future knows all about what I am into, and if they think I care, they are sadly mother fucking mistaken, Ed. King Nebnooshoo does not give a rats ass about anything, except helping Mark Minor back into Nirvana, that is, if he will help me reach this priceless oblivion as well. Tell Misses year pronouncer, I AM HERE.

THIS BLOG TERMINATES TRANSMISSION AT THIS POINT!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0267

2011-11-13T12:31:00.003-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0267
KING NEBNOOSHOO OF RELATIVE BABYLON
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“EVERYTHING REMAINS CONSTANTLY RELATIVE”

START BLOG:

Folks, at half past one this afternoon, ANOTHER NASTY LOUD FIRE ALARM WENT OFF. As I said, and will now reiterate on this Sunday afternoon, with or without my daughter with me at the aquarium; Mizz-H, and as I speak, a loud and low aerial assault is striking me at my residence at precisely mother fucking seven minutes past two, this weekend DEATH SIEGE BOTBAR FUCKING HELL, is monstrous, deplorable, despicable, abominable, insatiable, horrendous, and comes from WOMO-SATAN, same thing, this thing or whatever it truly is, will always be a endlessly remain, without one pico-ounce of humanity or heart, or without shame or conscience, sinking not to any known low, as any known or dreamed of low by any other NON-WOMO enemy, is mountaintops and Hubble telescope ranges away in distant and unfathomable great heights. Yes, as I said before, there was a new fire-alarm-system implemented a short while ago, and I was speaking to the installer in my own apartment on the day that my unit was being switched over to the new system, and was told that far less alarms will go off now as they are less sensitive than before; just as safe, just less false positives so to speak. The Housing Authority is fined by the township for every single time the Fire Company needs to come out and switch things off after examining carefully for safety, whose apartment triggered the alarm, that is the way that the system is designed. I know very well, that the change, all though I cannot officially ever measure it for two reasons, one is that I am not always at home, and two, no data was collected and stored by me before the change, but I am not a stupid dummy either, and can reasonably say with good accuracy, that basically if any change or reduction has occurred, it is 5 or maybe 10 percent tops, and this could be combinations of wishful thinking, variances caused by my happening to be home or not home, and so forth. However, a man came up to me on my job who may be a Fort Pierce Fireman, I am leaving things there. He seemed to know about the Hammer-Man and his hostility against and towards me ever since he took his mallet to my 1994-Saturn hubcap, outside of the psychic shop in west Deptford, New Jersey in June of 1996, when he was a mere lad of fifteen and two thirds years of age. All anyone has to do is pay someone to 'accidentally burn their food' or really, be a lot cleverer than this, and never directly, but through friends of friends, it really is not even all that of an impressive 'magic trick', all though the illusion appears to be so powerfully magic, to use the words of Mister Ron Wirtz, the dude who I dealt with back in the nineteen-nineties, from the Camden County Prosecutor's Office, in new Jersey, after first meeting him and his side kick Donna Spinosi, on the 5th day of freaking December, in the just-pre L&O days, in 1989, wow, the ideas I give to these people, the (EW) and others, Jeepers-creepers, golly gash darn gee whiz willagars, and other copyright owned material of the Mountainpen from 1988 and 1989. But folks, speaking of magic tricks, let us discuss a major powerhouse topic, MAGIC, as out TRS for the day's counterstrike for somebody's paid for over, cooked lunch; here at the PHA Building at 7th and Avenue B, in 'FTPFLUSAESMWG', or Fort Wonderful Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Planet Earth, System Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, or really, Galaxy Galaxy, as the SIDEWALK SCIENTISTS KNOW, along with how energy is mass times the speed of light squared has been a bit misunderstood by those with high school diplomas and degrees beyond that, it really is quite a fascinating documentary to watch, and ki hope feverishly that the Public Broadcasting Network re-airs this again in my local area soon, and on a channel not fixed by COMCAST to be non-recordable on all VCR's that have no built in tuners, they are impossible to get anymore, gee I wonder why, like DUH. Magic is a major thing. Both the great Gene Roddenberry of STAR TREK knew it, and so his people, and so do the people financed through the purse strings of EP Mister Dick Wolf, of all the fantastic “Law & Order” television show shows, that all Sabrina Collins sprang into Lauderdale-Action and existence right after my original contact with my own Jack McCoy, or actually, CCP, ADA, Ronald Wirtz, in Camden, New Jersey. What a name for a great Florida fort, no loud drums, no one getting pierced, just aquarium rhymes from a wonderful long ago Tuesday afternoon, huh, EW? Symbolic truth is as powerful or nearly as powerful, as is the great GAWNUM, folks. After-all, I was on the AMTRACK train one day in middle December on 1983, heading down to visit my Chief Recording Engineer, in Orlando, Florida, Howard Solomon; still known by the Elders in the great RIAA, (the music industry) to outsiders, and buyers, and most fans, and ended up chasing my Fort Daughterdale out onto some strange roads in Washington-13-DC, trying to make her give me back my glorified lap-top, invented by a cousin of her great mom, who gave me one of her many fake names in the sixties, Paula. When things did not work out too well between Howard and myself at his home in Orlando, I called my Uncle John Mason of Fort Daughterdale, and he came up and picked me up and brought me down there for several days, and then put me back onto the AMTRACK train north, to 30th Street in Philadelphia; where I then met up with the great eminent and illustrious Jim Burr; who then proceeded to transport me back home to my apartment, at Robin Hill in Voorhees Township, New Jersey, Apartment number 506. Now speaking of the TV show called, “LAW AND ORDER”, which undoubtedly was the greatest law-show ever; surpassing even Perry Mason; and running for the magical 21 years in its original non spin off show; I was watching yesterday, on my local lineup on the COMCAST CABLE, oh and don't panic, I dropped your bill under the dining table and found it Saturday; and threw it into the building outgoing mail slot, along with another bill, that will arrive before being late, so I am very sorry that your payment will be a week late, as this was certainly not intentional, I promise; but moving this along now; CHANNEL-18-FORT 'PIERCE', 'OUCH'; learn to get a sense of humor and laugh Paul, this is why you are sickly and I, being the same age as you, am healthy; by the way sir; but on this channel-18, was an afternoon marathon of Criminal-Intent L&O, with the dude I dig so much and call Detective Genius, and by the way a few blogs away, the word was supposed to read the word 'DETECTIVE', but Satan made it come out 'DECEIVE', to make me look like a Bruce Goldberg nut, and wreck even more, my shotty credibility. If I was 3-6 years old, we could make this read the way spellchecker wants it to read for whatever reason, my snotty credibility. Kids and runny noses, its like death and taxes, all parents know that. Still, let us resume the topic of magic, as it is a major TRS for this day's attack, and the total fucking ruination of my entire mother fucking weekend. I had never seen this one particular episode until yesterday afternoon. It was the one with the dude who tried to be buried underground for a month to eclipse similar and previous magic tricks, and he was murdered for his trouble. After the show, I began doing some soul searching, with magic and parlor tricks in general, tricks used by psychics, and so forth. Drugs are used by most people in the RIAA. There is no other way the Tubercular RA and her peeps would have agreed to help you bilk me out of nearly ten thousand dollars, Paula YOU witch, of Glendorawica, New Jersey. I tried running a scam on her and she saw right through it, now I know why she was able to, and have put together trillions of things in my life. I no longer believe in any of this religion and Christianity bullshit, it all is a huge parlor hoax, filled with mixes of technology and skilled illusions. Also, thank you Patrick Jane, all though I do not totally understand all of the tricks, the placing in my mind the day on the bus when I saw Glorious Sarah Pipe, near the Ruffo Ford, was ingenious. So was your totally marvelous fabulous trick, that trumped all tricks in 1969, well, both of them; but the real eclipsing stunt, will need to remain out of blogging range, for now; for purposes of my personal safety, like DUH. The one I can openly discuss without getting Jesus, Joseph, and Mary involved, or similar stunts and antics, is the incredible way you pulled off absconding my motorcycle chain. Here is the exposure of the trick folks, after 6 years of blogging and 40 + years of my going nuts over it, all a simple MI-PARLOR-STUNT, right Pat?

In early December in the year of 1969, while attending the Bancroft School on Hopkins Lane off of Kings Highway, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, USAESMWG; I was approached by a woman who shone some type of necklace at me, and it was filled with colored glass that reflected a brilliant early morning and just pre-winter-time low angled sun. The colors were brilliant and nearly blinding. I heard a echoed voice that seemed to skip, I was asleep or almost, barely able to stand up. The lady had to grab my arm to prop me in a continual standing position. I had just hypnotized a fellow male student at this school a few weeks before, somewhere between 2-6,or at least this is the best that I remember; and I also remember getting into incredible trouble for this deed. The same lady that practically took off my head for performing this hypnosis on my fellow student, Doctor Knipe, if memories are not altered or tampered with, was now hypnotizing me. She took my keys to my apartment, and demanded that I tell he the combination of the padlock in my bedroom closet, to my strongbox where my special chain and BOB were both carefully hidden from the world. She told me then that on lunch break, go into her automobile and it will be unlocked on the passenger side rear side, and look underneath a folded newspaper, and take my keys back that she will have placed there, and then just put the newspaper back, lock the car door, and close it, and as it closes, the clicking sound will make me totally forget the entire encounter, making me wonder how I got to the parking lot during lunch break, 50 yards down the Hopkins Lane from where I normally hung out with my friends. Sure enough, this all did happen, and she made a duplicate key, and with the combination of the padlock, she was able before lunch time, to drive the less than three miles over to my Oaklyn, New Jersey apartment on Oakland Avenue, Dellway Arms apartments, #o-15, and the letters matched the numbers, 1-16, and A-P by the way, something I never ever saw before, and I have lived all over the world as cousin Melanie Safka would put it so eloquently, huh Paula Lovely Duplicates King? All in less than hour's time, this deed was done. Doctor Knipe knew fully well, that my mom worked over at the world famous then, Lavino Shipping Company of Philadelphia, that no one else was in the household, thus with me there at school, as she was our principle, and my mom at work across the Delaware River over in Philly-57-Hickey-Hockey-Sticks, she was safe to use her BRAND NEW KEY, to get inside the apartment, go to my closet in the bedroom, open my strongbox, and take out the chain, and leave with no evidence of the deed ever being done. Only the Patrick Jane's and the Paula Uwich's of the world could pull off such mastered trickery and super ass parlor con games, I mean really, making me see this all this time as so magical, but I am not done yet, Red Colorado John Henningsen Lois Foca Goddess Jehovah Scylla Rock-Singer Google!!!!

It would take me another couple of years, before my moms coworker, Patricia Hollister, put me cleverly onto the FASCITAR. This is all told on many prior blogs from years ago, I have no time now to reiterate any ODF these details, maybe later on another future blog I will. The Fascitar is a powerful method of doing Astral-Projection, and then moving onto the Astral Plane, or remaining in the hyperspace, and being able to cause many effects, something too cool to believe, until you too practice these magical arts and parlor tricks. Don't judge my words yet, you are just in an infancy stage of learning some really fucking powerful stuff, with or without clearing your dry and suffering throats folks. Have mercy on me General Ulysses, your great great granddaughter is in on all this, you know, here in Florida, sir, not up north, YO. Paula King took the Fascitar far beyond where anyone else on this planet ever has, creating an Astral Plane family and city, and is now in charge of many worlds here in the realm of the waking and physical. The bible and the Christianity cult is the biggest deception, hoax, and parlor trick, since MI DAUGHTER was born and met me at age 16 for the 2nd time, in Manhattan. I am happy you could do so much with that tape, MI wonderful BEG, you know, President Bush's favorite song was Brown Eyed Girl, ask his parlor trick election following administration peeps, they may share all sorts of goodies with you. Do not worry about me, if the Ding Man shows up around here, he knows he is headed straight for the Everglades, one way!!!! You just take care of you. I will do all the things that you told me, so tell Chicky's boss, I got the message, and will always obey my TQ. *** END***

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0267

2011-11-13T12:31:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0266

2011-11-12T10:48:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0266
12:33 PM-EST, 11/12/11-SATURDAY
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
BLOG SUBTITLE FOUR:
“5 STRAIGHT BACK TO BACK SUPER FUCKED UP SATURDAY'S”

STARTING BLOG:

AT JUST SHY OF NOON, THE SAME NEIGHBOR DIRT BALL SCUM BAG WHO MESSED WITH ME LAST SATURDAY WITH A BLASTING ILLEGAL STEREO, IS DOING IT AGAIN, BACK TO BACK, THIS TIME BEGINNING A COUPLE HOURS EARLIER, AND I AM QUITE SURE IT WILL GO ON ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT LONG. I AM IN ROACHVILLE WITH ROACHES. WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT? STILL, I KNOW WHO AND WHAT IS REALLY BEHIND ALL THIS, AND DOING IT, AS IT NEVER ALTERS OR CHANGES IN ANY WAY, NO MATTER WHAT YEAR, WHAT CENTURY, WHAT CITY, WHAT NEIGHBORHOOD; THAT I AM RESIDING IN, SO THUS; SATAN IS THE AUTHOR OF MISERY, AND I KNOW FULLY WELL THAT THIS DISEASED JEALOUS FUCKING PRICK, IS THE ONE DOING THIS TO ME, USING HIS FAMOUS ASTRAL-PLANE TOOLS, THE PAWM-PIE-ETTOS. SATAN CAN DOUBLE AS THE KING OF LAMBRIGGER. THIS HAS NO CONNECTIONS WHATSOEVER, FOR THE RECORD, WITH LAMBRIGG, ENGLAND, HERE IN THE WAKING WORLD ON THIS PHYSICAL PLANE OF MORTAL EXISTENCE.

I HAVE NO CHOICE NOW, BUT TO TAKE THIS TO THE OFFICE OF MANAGEMENT, AND SHOW THEM MY LEASE OF RULES, AND IF THIS DOES NOT WORK, THEN IT IS OFF TO AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE DIRECTORS OF MY HOUSING AUTHORITY. IF THIS DOES NOT STOP THIS, I MUST MOVE OUT, WEIN, (WHAT ELSE IS NEW)?

I may have no rights to peaceful enjoyment in my paid for legal apartment by day, but all night long must be some type of township violation of ordinances. Somewhere 5 weeks ago, I must have picked up a different neighbor next door. This never was going on there in all of the previous months before since late in May when I moved into this shit hole dump. Florida paradise, the only bigger jokes and laughs may perhaps be in Vegas, at a comedy lounge act that is peeps.

I NEVER REPORTED THIS NEIGHBOR PERSONALLY SO FAR. I ONLY LEFT MESSAGES WITH THE OFFICE ABOUT HIS ALL NIGHT MUSIC VIOLATIONS OF THE LEASE RULES. I AM BEING IGNORED SO FAR, MAYBE HIRING AN ATTORNEY IS THE ANSWER, AND MY JOB SITE HAS JUST THE MAN FOR THE JOB, RIGHT PAUL EVANS PEDERSEN, MY PAL, DOCTOR JACK. HE IS THE SAME DUDE HOWEVER WHO TELLS ME TO MOVE ON AND FORGET MY 1969 RAPE. I WOULD LIKE TO SEE HIM AND OTHER FOLKS TRY AND MOVE ON AFTER A LIFE OF CONTINUAL NON RELELNTING ATTACK DAY IN AND DAY OUT FOR 57 MOTHER FUCKING YEARS AND COUNTING UNTIL I AM FUCKING DEAD AND BURIED. AS I SPEAK, A NASTY LEFT SIDE DEATH-ANDROID SIGNAL ATTACK IS STRIKING ME AT PRECISELY 48 MINUTES PAST 12 NOON, AND THESE 'DEATH-ANGELS' ARE ON A MOTHER FUCKING SUPER ASS ROLL FOLKS, FOR ME, AND I MEAN ONE HELL OF A SUPER NASTY ROLL.

This will be my counterstrike for this 5 straight SATURDAY DEATH SIEGE, this powerful information, blogged again, as it was years ago, out into the public fucking domain.

In 1970, I stayed with a fagot at the shore. He owned many properties, and he liked little boys a bit too much, I was 15, very small, could pass for 10, and he abused me sexually, his name was Thomas J. Reale, from the Ventnor and Somers Point, New Jersey, area. The first time he hand-job molested me, I talked myself into believing it was just a very vivid dream, after-all, my life has always been filled with powerful dreams that seemed so real that many times it was next to impossible to distinguish them from waking life. They also had a tendency to merge with and into waking life, such as in middle December of 1969 when I dreamed that a special girl took a motorcycle chain out of my hands that rightfully belonged to me, or so I had thought, and insisted that she needed this chain and I quote her, “For Her great city”. She told me when I “wake up” soon, it will be gone in waking reality as well, as SHE needs it. When I awoke almost laughing out loud at the seemingly silliness of the dream, I checked a strong box in my apartment bedroom closet that was padlocked with a strong large combination lock that only I had the number pass to open, and sure enough there was no chain, gone, forever gone and lost to me, making my first of two indelible impressions on me, both from this powerful goddess-girl-Sarah, this one in 1969 and later on in early June of 1980 with another powerful so called DREAM, where she was singing a special song to me on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic City, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”, or LOIS FOCA for short. What you do not know is a story about the great ICE CAPADES, and their history-marker on a large municipal water pipe, that crossed a section of the bay near a place called once and now defunct, Ruffo Ford, in Atlantic City on the Black Horse Pike, just past the McDonald's and the air field. There is a 47 year-space-wormhole, or something that in today's world would be described as a wormhole, connected with this pipe, and walking across this pipe at a specific time when the system is hot, will take you 47 years to the day either backward or forward through time, depending on if you are moving east towards Atlantic city and the ocean, or west towards where the pipe goes under the road right where the car dealership used to be for so many years. Only I know the exact hot-time, and the directional control of forward and backward. It is used by many movers. I may soon be using it to return to late 1964, and attempt to correct previous mistakes with Sarah. This is all what led my life into this disaster, as Sarah is no ordinary teenager, she is the All mighty God of this universe. One day while visiting relatives up on Long Island, we were all out walking dogs, as my moms cousin Ruth Huntington Gottwald took me and her two grandchildren, on a road-trip from the south up to the north end of the island, after first stropping in Ammityville on another errand, where they all lived early in the sixties before supposedly a toaster oven caught fire and burned their home to the ground, moving them over to Babylon. During this dog walking, I met a blond teenaged beauty queen who told me some awful things, these things need not be told or blogged. Later I walked up the street to see the house that she was referring to, and a small young child beckoned me to follow her through an open fence of some kind and through a door, where I saw her then go into an area where a powerful strobing light was in her hand and shinning. A man who I came to know from a cigar store during my Stockholm Syndrome kidnapping experience in 2008 and 2009, was there as well, and was her step father but believed himself to be her father. This child was bound and determined to show me this incredible device in this small hallway that accessed a larger living space out beyond it, where her father was standing somewhat agitated. Eventually, he caught her, took it away from her, and gave her one hell of a walloping, leaving me flabbergasted. I had never seen a small child hit in my life. I was so proud of her, as she refused to cry, and just looked sad and angry over at him for what he had done. I was half blinded by the brilliance of this strobing light, and for some unknown reason, this light seemed to cripple his mind from ever knowing that I was standing right there in the house. I ran out the way I came and rejoined my cousins and the blond girl who had taken quite a liking to me, we both were in our late teen years, I did not care at all about girls and had many problems, and even though this blond had written her name and phone number on a piece of paper and folded it up and given it to me, I chucked it out the window of my Aunt Ruth's car, later on when we were all driving away back southward towards Babylon, New york. Thirty-six years later, I relived the exact experience that I had blocked out of my mind as it was horrendous, and actually believed until a year or so ago, that I had merely had a very wild DREAM, early in the afternoon of the 5th of October, in 2008. Now I will tell you how the GAWNUM works, since this man who likes to strike innocent little 2 year old girls was the one who told me how exactly it works, over at the Haddonwood Health Club swimming pool, back in 1995, and telling me he was a cousin of this family, a half truth.

To get a PCN or a PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER, as he was the main inventor of a machine that was part of all of this, back in 1983, you need to understand alpha-numeric conversion. All letters have a value in their alphabetical order, as A is the first letter, C is the third, E is the 5th, and so forth, or the way to Z being the 26th letter. One must take the first name and the last name of the legal name that they were officially born with, and use the legal language that represents the legal location of their birth. My first name and last name is MARK MOHR, born in the USA, and forget the old eighties songs, as this is too serious to fuck around with. If you add up all of the value numbers to the letters in my name, you get the sun-total-97. In other words, M+A+R+K+M+O+H+R, substituted with the numerical values based on these letters alphabetical order from 1-26; we add up 13, 1, 18, 11, 13, 15, 8, and 18, and this equals 97. This is why 1997 was so significant in my life, and for those with name-numbers into three digits, one of the years in this century will also equal out to being a very significant year for you. Still, this is one tiny part of the science of the GAWNUM, short for GAWKY GAUKAUK'S NUMEROLOGY. There are two numbers between 1-9 that are called the GAWNUM ROOT, and once known, then the third number is simply the smaller digit subtracted from the larger digit, or in the case of equal digit roots such as 33 or 55, the third and final digit of a PCN is a 0. Only a third digit can be a zero, the first two always must be a digit from 1-9. Let me explain just why this is so peeps. To arrive at the first digit of a GAWNUM-ROOT, we add up the total amount of letters, so in the case of my name for example, MARK MOHR, a runny nosed four year old can see that there are eight letters in my combined Christian and Sir names. This is the simple first digit of a PCN. However, in all numerology, only the digits count, and any digit higher than a 9, must be added up, so digits are added up until finally, only one is remaining, and this final one will always be a digit of between a one and a nine. Now to arrive at the second digit of a GAWNUM-ROOT, we also do this thing at the end, but first as stated earlier, this time we take the total alphanumeric value, so with me digit one is an 8, and needs no slimming down since it is not higher than 9. Now digit two is a 97. This is indeed higher than 9, so we add the digits. 9+7=16, and this still is too high, as it is >9, so again we add these digits, 1+6=7. So my name GAWNUMLY, is the root number of 87. The 8 is the first root-digit, and the 7 is the second root-digit. There are 81 ROOT-DIGITS, from 11-99, and there are no zeros. Then in my case, root number 87 creates the number of (1) for its third PCN-DIGIT, as the smaller number of 7, is subtracted from the larger number of 8, and this is 8-7=1, so my first digit is an (8), my second digit is a (7), and my third digit is a (1). Thus, my very own personal (PCN), PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER, GAWNUMLY; is {{{{{((((\\\\\\'871'//////))))}}}}}. Anything and everything has a PCN. There atre and always will be and have been, 81 PCN's. Dates, sentences, questions, answers, names, numbers, it all can be spelled out and converted into one of 81 possible PCN equations, and this is just the beginning, as the next lessens will start to teach how to compare for matching compatibility realities and if things are connected, as well as greater stuff than this such as BRANCHCODES, and much more. Al Jolson said it far better than I ever can, but he is not here with me, nor do I any laser retrace technology available with me here, to bring him back so he can say it, so I will take the liberty of saying it folks, “YOU AIN'T HEARD NOTHING YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Yes peeps, 5 STRAIGHT SATURDAY SIEGES, AND YES, LOOK OUT FOR THE EARTHQUAKE THAT WILL WIPE CALFORNIA OFF THE MAP, PLEASE COME BACK EAST, MC, PLEASE. For now, what you have done for me is appreciated beyond words, and no words can ever properly thank you, brown eyes. Where is my song? Music helps us forget bad junk in our lives, I know this, my butterfly.

ENDING BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0265

2011-11-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0265
9:10 PM-EST-NOVEMBER ELEVENTH, 2K-ELEVEN
Last blog in error, not 2K10, but 2011, sorry.
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“GO AHEAD AND CALL MY BLUFF, AS IT IS NO BLUFF”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, © 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I was given a powerful attack at shortly past mother fucking eight of the clock this fucking Friday fucking evening, ROBERT MCDOWELL OF THE FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION AND EX-LANDLORD FROM HAMMONTON NON-DJ-DONNA FROM AUSTIN, TEXAS, AGENT STEVE CARUSO, PRESIDENT OBAMA IN CASE YOU CARE, AND REMEMBER YOUR GREAT HERITAGE SIR, AND OTHERS SUCH AS MY OLD PAL BEFORE HE BECAME SOMEBODY, ROBERT GREATVOICE ANDREWS OF WHICH THE © OFFICE KNOWS ONLY TOO WELL OF MY BRIGGBASE DELEMA WITH THIS SITUATION; TWO ASSAULTS CAME, ONE BY UTILITY, ONE BY HEALTH, FORGET LAND AND SEA AND PAUL OR PAULA WHO I OF COURSE DO REVERE.

The major brutal diarrhea mother fucking hit on my body, was simultaneous; with the utility attack, on my mother fucking video equipment out ODF the blue,and I am QUITER POSITIVE THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS ****** TEAM IS PLAYING, AND CHEATING THEIR WAY INTO ANOTHER BRIGGBASE LAMBRIGG CULT HOLLOW ICPE VICTORY, AND SANITIZED VICTORIA SUMMERS AND WINTERS, RIGHT BOSTON MEAT PACKERS, AND POPS????????????????????????????????? NOT OUT ODF THE FUCKING BLUE YOU HACKING PIECE OF FUCKING FILTH OUT THERE, BUT OUT OF, BUTWIPE, 374-374, ODF-ODF, BUT-BUT. SHIT, IF IT WAS NOT FOR THE FUCKING ELDRIDGE EXPERIEMNT AT THER PHILADELPHIA NAVAL SHIPYARD, AND THAT STUPID FUCKING WAR WITH HITLER; THE JOKE IS, THAT NONE OF THIS FUCKING SHIT WOULD BE ON AND POPPING LIKE THIS, AGAINST ME AT C-SQ.

My only fucking ass hope now to fight this brutal vicious unrelenting pummeling on me, is to tell another fucking major TRS (Today's Revenge Secret), YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Recently, the fire alarm people were here installing newer updated stuff, and the installer told me it is much less sensitive and should not be going off all the time annoying people to death. Now, I know it is no way paranoia on my part when I do not believe that out of the blue on days and at times when other shit against me is real bad with my filthy rotten sick twisted WOMO enemies, someone is not doing this intentionally, and has been paid or told maybe in exchange for a legal deal such as we see on L&O the so-called fixctional television show, half off your sentence if you do this and that, and we will cover you if anything should get onto and exposed. So they just burn some food over and over at precise times, so please, tell me I'm crazy and nuts all you fucking want to. I have met people who know I am NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You need to know nothing more about that folks. Yes, a little less alarms do go off now, yet still; they go off in perfect timed ways and on rolls, just as they did before, so WHO IS FUCKING REALLY KIDDING WHO, POKER FACERS??????????????????? The second attack was the VCR suddenly was rewinding a tape that was recording. I reset it again and recorded the show, only at the end of the fucking show, it was blank, nothing came out. Then to see if the fucking video cassette tape was bad, I changed channels several times, and again tried recording and things are back to normal as though nothing was wrong in the fucking first place. SATAN WILL NOT STOP FUCKING WITH ME JEHOVAH. WHY WON'T YOU KILL THIS PRICK, AND END THIS WORLD AS YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO DO THAT WONDERFUL DAY OUTSIDE EDEN, MY LOVELY TEEN QUEEN?????????????????????????????????????????????? Why won;t you end this for me? Why won't you let me die and stay dead at least? Death Android Morty Mortino tells me he gladly will take me, but you will not let him. Don't you know how badly I need to be with you, brown eyed girl. I have missed you for eternity now Sarah-Stacey, please do not go away and leave me all alone here in this horrible place, P-L-E-A-S-E!!!!P____****L____****E****____A****____S****____E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

990990990990990990990990990990990990990990990990990990.

This blog ends transmission. Where were you when we all needed you Doctor Harold Camping????????????????????????

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0264

2011-11-11T14:11:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0264
4:53 PM-EST-FRIDAY, NOVEMBER ELEVENTH,
TWO-THOUSAND-TEN-YEARS AFTER CHRIST WAS BORN:
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
4TH BLOG SUBTITLE:
“LET ME DO SHORT TWEETY-BIRD TWEET REPORTS PLUS ONE GREAT SECRET FOR EACH ASSAULT ON ME UNTIL THIS FUCKING BACKS OFF OF ME IF IT EVER DOES, YO”

START TRANSMISSION:

IT IS BEYOND MOTHER FUCKING CRUEL THAT THIS WICKED WOMO ENEMY, IS PERMITTED, SIR MICHAEL MOORE; TO GET AWAY WITH MAJOR RELENTLESS TORMENT AND TORTURE OF ME; DAY AFTER DAY; JUST TO KEEP GETTING THEIR DISEASED FUCKING WAY OF PROFITING ON WALL STREET, THROUGH A SECRET AND TOTALLY COVERT TECHNOLOGY; KNOWN BY VERY FEW AS INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT OR (ICPE).

THESE DIRT BAG SEWER SCUM GAINED OVER A QUARTER OF A FUCKING THOUSAND POINTS TODAY BY PUTTING ME THROUGH HELL. I JUST SUFFERED A 2ND NASTY FIRE ALARM IN MY APARTMENT, PUBLIC HOUSIONG IS VERY EASY FOR THESE WOMO ENEIMIES TO GET AT ME AND IT TREMAINS ENDLESSLY UNPROVED, MAKING ME SIMPLY APPEAR FOREVER, AS A BRUCE GOLDBERG TIME TRAVELERS FROM OUR FUTURE NUTCASE, READ HIS GREAT BOOK, AND DO NOT TAKE MY WORD FOR MOTHER FUCKING DOG ASS SHIT FOLKS. LEARN SOMETHING FOR A CHANGE, BEFORE GOING TO BED AND WASTING ANOTHER DAY FOLKS. ALL LAST NIGHT, I SUFFERED THROUGH LOUD MUSIC FROM EVIL RULE BREAKING NABES, PAST THREE AND INTO NEARLY 4 THIS MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING. I HAVE TWO PAID OFF OR THREATENED OFF NABES MESSING WITH ME, BUT THAT IS NOT ALL SO LET ME TELL A TRS FOR THIS HORRENDOUS MONSTROUS DESPICABLE ASSAULT AGAINST MY INNOCENT BLOOD ALL DAY TODAY.

OTHER PEEPS WHO KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME HAVE ASKED ME ABOUT MY DAUGHTER, AND THINGS WERE SAID EARLIER. IF ANYONE OUT HERE ON THIS PLANET, DOES ONE THING THAT PLACES MY NEW RELATIONSHIP WITH MY VERY SPECIAL KID, IN ANY DANGER OF HARM, IN ANY WAY, THERE WILL BE TWO PEOPLE GOING INTO THE EVERGLADES, AND ONE COMING OUT. THIS PROMISE CAN BE FILED UNDER 'THE BELCHING ALIGATORS OF FLORIDA', OR MORE SIMPLY; 'YOU'LL BE VERY FUCKING SORRY'. THE HUNTINGTON FAMILY IS UNDER A VICIOUS CURSE, AND IF YOU DISEASED FUCKING BASTARDS DO NOT STOP EXACERBATING THE ALL READY EXISTING TERRIBLE TROUBLES WE HAVE, YOU WILL CURSE OUT YOUR PARENTS FOR HAVING ONE TOO MANY GOOD TIMES, JAY-JAY BRO, WITRH OR WITHOUT ANY SKINNY STROKED MUSTACHES FROM THE NINETEEN-SEVENTIES.

THEY ARE WIPING ME OUT AT C-SQ-MI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE, THEY WILL TELL YOU A LOT OF ROTTEN HORRIBLE LIES, BECAUSE THEY HATE ME AND THEY ARE JEALOUS OF ME. YOU KNOW THIS TUNE ONLY TOO WELL, LOVELY CATERPILLAR. IWALU BEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS BLOG TERMINATES.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0263

2011-11-11T11:02:00.000-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0263
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BEGINNING OF BLOG:

I AM SUPER MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR, every day is super mother fucking hell. If my wonderful beautiful Jehovah Scylla Goddess cannot miraculously get this to slow down, I WILL BE DEAD.

I tried to go to sleep and was awakened by a horrendous loud
FIRE ALARM here in the building around half past six or so, there is no shortage of these things, but they always seem to occur at times when other shit is also fucking major beyond the rational believability of coincidence, at least in the mind of this psychotic delusional paranoid schizophrenic. THEN AT PRECISELY ONE ELEVEN THIS AFTERNOON, ON MONTH ELEVEN ALSO CALLED NOVEMBER, ON THIS ELEVENTH MOTHER FUCKING DAY, OR AT ONE-ELEVEN pm ON ELEVEN-ELEVEN, SEVEN FUCKING DISASTER ASS ASS JANE BITCH FONDA ONES; I am awakened by some sound. I had to pay two bills, so I got dressed to take the mail down to the building public inside drop in the lobby for the outgoing mail to be later picked up by the postal carrier, and when I tried to go out the door, the entire door, literally overnight, jammed and would not shut closed, once it was fucking opened. I tried and tried, it was just totally jammed and not happening. Enemies really have my fucking Jiffy-Pop Popcorn OOON HIGH FLAME today, as I found my list of telephone numbers so that I could call the maintenance, and then tried one more time to see where this jam was coming from and what part of the door was warped and not closing despite its opening perfectly and easily, and poof, it closed like a even sliver of ice moving across a frozen cold glistening pond. It was as though the shit HAD JUST BEEN DONE TO ME IN A TOTALLY SATANICAL MANNER, had been just as QUICKLY AND PKPHC MYSTERIOUSLY undone, WITH PURE FUCKING MACY MAGIC, HUH DONALD JOHN BASSLER UGLYBAG TRUMP??????? This all happened within seconds and minutes of getting up. OBVIOUSLY THE STOCK MARKET IS MOTHER FLYING NOW AT SOMEWHERE AROUND 15,000 POINTS, AND BEFORE THIS YEAR IS OUT AND OVER, IT WILL BE AROUND 20 THOUSAND POINTS. IT WILL BE 50,000 POINTS BY THE END OF THE YEAR, AND IT WILL BE 5 MILLION POINTS BY THE END OF NEXT YEAR. I HAVE NEVER FUCKING SEEN THIS KIND UP RUTHLESS AND RELENTLESS DEMONIC AND SATANIC UNNATURAL POWER PERPETRATED ME ON A DAY AFTER DAY, POUNDING AND PUMMELING MOTHER FUCKING BASIS IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.
1)Death angels are constant.
2)Relentless Jane Slut clock attacks are making me puke.
3)People saying and doing weird stuff all around me.
4)Fire alarms are continual and mind altering as any LSD.
5)Until THEY MURDER ME, I AM NOT SAFE.
6)Unexplainable shit like my front door is one event after another, non stop.
7)Klutz attacks are also bad and so are things vanishing and later reappearing. Jimmy Hoffa, I fully expect will suddenly and eventually, materialize in my mother fucking kitchen, given enough time, maybe so will gorgeous Jenny Hewitt, now that would break the cycle if she would give me the time of my life. WOW!!!!!!!!
8)My watch for no good reason, a week ago, lost close to 15 minutes, yet once reset to the real time again, it has ticked away and not lost a second of time since, NEE-NEE-NEE-NEE--------NEE-NEE-NEE-NEE, RODNEY SERLING, YO.

THIS IS AN OFFICIAL DYING UTTERANCE AND DYING MANS DECLARATION. THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE AND THE PHILADELPHIA EXPERIMENT AND THE BATTLESHIP ELDRIDGE ARE ALL TOTALLY REAL, NOT SOME PRODUCT OF PSYCHIATRIA MOTHER FUCING DELUSION, I SWEAR THIS ON MY ETERNITY UNDER THE ALL MIGHTY JEHOVAH GODDESS. Buy the TV documentaries or books.

If you go away and leave me now, now that you have come back to me, Scylla, I will be lost forever, PLEASE STAY.** END OF BLOG.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0262

2011-11-10T22:58:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0262
WORLD LABS 2295 DATFILE: BOTBARSHIT PLUS 42 MINUTES
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ONE NEEDS TO COMPENSATE FOR MISS CRAP BITCH JANE
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THEY TOOK MISTER SPOCK AWAY FROM ME IN HADDONFIELD”

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Psychiatrists and the psychiatric profession has done some good, but I can vouch personally for the fact; that they have done a lot more harm than they have done good. As with anything else, a lot of it is a huge con job, a KT Truth Statement also said as, with or without any ice cream or DQ's; it is 'always all about the money', and this is by no means any exception. SSDD-SOSO-WEIN? It gives anyone who wants to harm diagnosed patients with mental diseases, a free license to pick on them and do basically anything they want to, it is the most evil and satanic invention ever perpetrated against groups of totally innocent people in the history of mother fucking humankind. I have nothing personally, one bit good to say about this crooked nonsense, other than it has helped a few, and for that Tiny Tim and Charlie Dickens, I say, “God bless both it and Christmas, with all the happy clapping song kids, and local radio stations who for some unknown reasons never play my song, and in lieu of powerful truths about this side of the family, wow gee, I wonder why. Oh I'm sorry folks, I am acting paranoid and skitso! Excrews me.

No one has the tiniest clue what is being done to me, at my horror show nightmare employment site, at my residence by ETTOS effected Satan worshipers; and all around anything at all that I ever try to do or even touch for that matter. I have been cursed since the mother fucking day I was fucking born, and at least I know it; and am man enough to not deny reality of super non-pleasantries.

Now I will go on and try and remember that I call this blog SAFE JOURNAL for an extremely powerful reason that most persons reading would not and could not comprehend fully as they cannot relate to losing every single thing you have from circumstances beyond your control. Only a twister or hurricane victim can relate to my plight, and my storm was named Dawn. This indeed was both the perfect storm, and the King of all storms, as it went beyond its own breath, and was tentacle connected into the most powerful family on the planet, JK. If I said too much more, I would be blown to bits before anyone could say the words Massachusetts Bridges. Still, only a small branch of them mastered the secret arts of dream travel, and on top of that, is genetically connected to a real surviving time traveler, a member of the prestigious United States Naval Operations that was fitting out a battleship in a famous shipyard, with secret special apparatus invented by Albert Einstein. Many books are out there in the real world about the great Eldridge Battleship, but my dad was the only survivor of the experiment, and I being his only legitimately recognized son in this section of hyperspace, as the gods only knew how much seed he fathered during world War Two all over global ports, in or out of storms; but this is why they watch me so closely. If all of this stuff was made up and untrue, do you really think things like BRANCHCODES could be known by me? What are branch-codes some may be wondering, despite many prior blogs back last year in oh-MAROLA-ten were filled with stuff about them? What is the FASCITAR? What is a TYPE-1, 2, and 3 EXPLORATRON? What is WORLD LAB, and how did they make contact with me in my current lifetime as 'Mark Wayne Mohr of Hammonton, New Jersey', Mister GOOGLE? What is the BOOK OF THE BEACH or the BOB for short? What and who are the LAMBRIGG CULT of the Astral Plane? Just how many questions do you have for me folks? Am I Rick, asks Karen? I am anyone I want to be, Karen, and so are you. What is the Waking Freeze? What started all the bullshit after the mighty Jimmy Stone fired me without a good cause, from the griffin Pipe company of Florence Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG? Why did Steve Murray of Griffin Pipe tell me he is a GOD from Olympia, seven years ago, as well as tell me that he was sitting at his house one summer day in 1986 and the phone rang, and it was the pipe company offering him a welders job as he was a welder, only he never had applied?Why did a McDonnell Douglas Space Agency truck, try to run me off of 295, in New Jersey, near Griffin Pipe Company, back in 1988; causing me to go to court, and testify against driver Jackson, and to find out where the court was, I asked a guard at a gate, and this was Griffin Pipe, only I did not come to work there for nearly a decade and a half. We could take this short list and literally multiply it by hundreds and hundreds of other wild shit swallowing things, and it would not tell the complete and total nightmare mother fucking story of my hellish existence, and then I have to deal with a world of sike doctors telling me I am delusional and making this all up when I am not. F-U-C-K----Y-O-U!!!!

Let us just talk for a moment about the magical GAWNUM, and how taking it to another step and level, into the square-hex-numeration system of letting things not only discuss matching items, or answering queries, but showing powerful pictures of how major multiplexed systems also all connect up and go together, and without the knowledge of this tool, the Macy-Magic if you will, as Clark Kent and I both know that magic is merely the magic of knowledge; and let me carefully and subtly talk about things that connect the past years of my life ever since I woke up one day and was suddenly hell bent to find the missing teen of my life from Atlantic City in the nineteen-sixties, the great SARAH. I can prove to shrinks or anyone else how real this GAWNUM is, how powerful, how totally fucking awesome and mind bending, but they do not want to believe, so they are the most guilty of all persons, they become the ultimate hypocrites, and deniers of reality, deluding themselves that I am the mother fucking delusional sick schizophrenic hospital case.

I am not going to run away from my problems, I did this before, it was not the mother fucking answer, New Jersey to Florida, it accomplished fucking nothing, nada, zilch, squat. Speaking of pipes and games, Patty and I could go on. Meanwhile, the answer for me is not in taking my life so these monster scum bags can win by default, nor is the answer going overseas to work high risk private non-military security in Iraq or Afghanistan. So I am having y professor friend helping me to put the GAWNUM on software to prove the truth is indeed the truth once and for all, from Rick Eid to Island Highways, to 549 lottery boxes. Another friend is helping me steadily muddle my way through learning many things on operating the computer, while still another, will be building a machine for me that will do away with the large screen television system once and for all, and bring 3-D as well as stereo video into its own established order, making me an overnight billionaire without my dad's treasure galleons. In any case, I will be doing a lot of things, so if I am taken out or MURDERED, this stands in total evidence, as this fucking EVIL EMPIRE, just as I said, has taken over and totally dominated. WHEN I SAY IT WILL HAPPEBN, LEARN TO TRUST ME FOLKS, or go back to the blogs of early oh-MAROLA-9, and read my predicting the bottom out of the DOW JONES at the 65 hundred level, and BOOM-POW-YOWZIE, just as I said would happen, happened, my peeps, so read the old blogs, dogs, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't ever come around here Alaskan Husky Dog of Church Farm School. CU in CP at the bus stop, bud. Hay, read the bwogs folks, Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa. DON'T EVER TAKE ME AT MY WORD, AS I WOULD NOT RESPECT YOU IN THE MOUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING IF YOU DID. C4 your freaking selves peeps, that I have better freaking shit to do with my life than sit here blogging lies or nonsense, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All languages from Chinese to English to Spanish to French, math, science parts, and young Anna Connie's notwithstanding DJDS, all have the same commonality. They have a limited amount of letters that begin with the first and end with the last, and can be numbered as letter 1 or 2 or 3 or 4, and in English the list goes up to 26 for letter-Z, and letter-A is number 1. GOOGLE the GAWNUM, it should take you to the knowledge, if they hacked it out, then go to www.blogger.dom/ blogs of Mountainpen, then type in GAWNUM and search it that way, YO. When you take two things and add up their Private-Cosmicoded-Numbers or PCN's, multiply by 16, and then hit the SQUARE-ROOT button on your calculator, and using the digits that display, ignore the decimal point, and starting from left to right, see how many PCN's can be made. In May I asked the great cat Gawky Gaukauk, who taught me this in a powerful 'DREAM', about something regarding my U-Tube project. The two BRANCHCODES that came up were then matched in my book that contains hundreds of all of the varying 81 possible PCN's. I got my mind blown, and no longer was worried when the mighty Paul told me in his own way that I am not all that. The GAWNUM disagreed with him, and do you wanna' know if I believed him with his 03.05753954% accuracy rating, or the GAWNUM, with its 100%, when properly applied and mastered of course. Wait until my professor pal kicks in, then you better sell your stocks folks, as it will be CURTAUINS for this EVIL EMPIRE, with or without Michael Moore and my Covert Morian Group that is getting no place at light speed squared.

Please don't leave me SSJK, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for everything, I am staying silent as subtle nights here, but thank you so very much. If it was not for my dad, you would not be able to do these things, imagine what the star kids will be capable of someday.

Diana, thank you for shining your lovely full moon down on me. You know I love you, and will see you soon at the waterfalls, my baby blond love. I know you are SSJK's strobe-light, I remember it was no dream, she really invited me in to see it that day, how I wish I could safely blog it all. Well you cannot have your hyper-dimensional cupcakes from Incollingo's and eat them too, so as Mister Esolphs would say, and that is that, but then, so did Whaley Hicks.

In closing, I will be saying trillions of powerful things as this rotten non-PITSY year comes towards an end. This is one mathematical equation that really let me down. David Leigh Smith of Haddonfield, New Jersey from 1970, sir, you were wrong, math is not impersonal or without feelings, you need to read my story old pal. Say hello to Russ Thaxton for me, if you run into him; I forgive him for burning the BOB, he knew not what he did, and this shit just keeps running through this incredible family lineage, into the Stuart Line and now the Huntington Line, I guess some of us are left, if not, well, I will do my best to keep things going, huh Mister Marcucci, you old wizard you. Say hello to Harry Potter for me, and whoever is left in the Beatles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YO.

END TRANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0261

2011-11-07T15:32:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAQL, CHAPTER 0261
DATFILE: 110711.751
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

IF I AM MURDERED AND FOUND DEAD, THE MOST POWERFUL FAMILIES ON THE EARTH GOT AWAY WITH IT, WHAT ELSE IS NEW.

THIS IS THE FUCKING WORST AIR PERSECVUTION IN A VERY LONG TIME, I AM BEING ILLEGALLY STALKED BY A BLACK HELICOPTER, AND NUMEROUS SMALL PLANES. THIS ALL BEGAN WHEN I PICKED UP MY COMPUTER GURU, MEG, AT HER HOUSE AROUND 5 MINUTES PAST THREE, TWO MOTHER FUCKING HOURS AGO.

Face-book is not the way to go, she told me it is nothing but a social networking site, and will not allow me to use it to prove powe4rful fucking secrets. MYSPACE on the other hand, that is the way to go, she tells me, and will be assisting me further over the mother fucking weekend, despite how much enemies of the WOMO persecute, torment, torture, and harass me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A giant rainbow as well as Diana's huge lovely moon was sharing the sky with the enemies. At least she shines her beautiful and awesome light down at me to let me know that she is there and watching freaking over my pathetic fucking simple innocent ass my peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for shining your moon down to help relax my troubled mother fucking spirit. Thank you Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, my eternal love, and reigning all powerful GODESS; for the giant rainbow as well. I NEED YO, I was with you all night last night, the interactions were freaking major. Your human world mom is pissed off at me, she did some wild stuff with her friend Sharon, she thinks I do not know what is going on around me, wow is she in for a rude awakening, literally perhaps, as she is such a 'special sleeper', I AM NOT SCARED OF YOU PAULA KING!!!!!!!!!!

Call ten, AT&T, give me a Kelly car break, sheeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!I MUST HAVE STEPPED ON SOME POWERFUL TOES WITH SUNDAY'S BLOG INFORMATION, WOW, JESUS FUCKING SOULCAST CHRIST ALL MOTHER FUCKING MIGHTY, DOGS!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNETIC SOUND MACHINE, MY VOICE PRINT, NOW, HEAR THIS, MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, COMPUTER, DESTROY ABND SCAN, WIPE OUT THIS EVIL FUCKING WALL STREET BUNCH OF TERRORISTS AND LEGALLY ESTABLISHED FUCKING CRIMINALS. ALL GENERASL AND CODED GENERAL ORDERS, FROM WORLD LABORATORIES, AND CG-18, AND-------------S-----T-----O-----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do not be surprised at all the coming world destruction, aerial crashes, and natural disasters, U HAVE ALL BEEN FUCKING ASS WARNED, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I spoke back on many blogs, and then a lot more again as well this year, in the spring time of 2011, about the cancellation of powerful and popular daytime television soap opera shows, and now it is time to counterstrike with this huge fucking shit, so if you are standing too near these words, sorry if a loud BOOM busts out your mother fucking ass winders, me' peeps.

DARK SHADOWS was put off the air because any idiot could see that they had run out of plots and times and hyperspace travel, and the only next logical thing to be re-aired, was the Leviathan cult, called in real truth, and not ever aired, the BRIGBASE CULT, or the LAMBRIGG RESIDENTS OF THE ASTRAL PLANE. Powerful peeps did not want any more stuff told by Curtis and Rohr, but if you go to the fan club, www.darkshadowsfanclub.com/ or other sites, the main one originates as it always has, in Maplewood, New Jersey; they will never tell because they are way to mother fucking frightened to ever reveal the truth. Now again, old doctor Hayward Death of Pine Valley Harner Pedersen, was beginning to get too near transdimensional and hyperspace topics that go off limits and beyond permitted boundaries. There was no way things were not leading up to 1988-repeated original TEOHIV murder echos and what is actually literally James T. Burr happening to me, from 1975. I saw the writing on the wall back around the time the blond flusie was driving me nuts on the Trump Network, after uploading my second U-Tube project. If somebody is alone in a room and a hammer falls down from nowhere right smack dab on their head, and no one witnesses it, this poor soul will be accused of trying to off his or her self, the world will not believe the non believable, despite this very topic being on television so many times, beginning in my opinion with the great movie from the late seventies with George Burns, called, OH SARAH-STACEY. They use a sillier name, but then, the world sees 'Lois Foca' and what happened to me in my life as silly, which brings up a sup-er bible verse about how humankind views things from heaven as foolishness, and in perfect reverse, the heavens view humankind wisdom as foolishness.

I disagree with Jennifer Washburn now, 100%, and plan to leap into the air and fly, while it is being videotaped, and then this will post on the U-TUBE, and the entire mother fucking FBI and their best laboratories can try and prove its a fake until mother fucking kingdom-cum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WANT A WAR WITH ME MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES, you bring it, and then I will gladly bring it right back, mother fucking cunt lapping jack off bastard scum losers. H-E-L-P-----M-E MAGGIE!
THIS BLOG WILL END RIGHT NOW, BUT WAY MOHR IS TO CUM.

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0260

2011-11-06T19:02:00.001-08:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0260
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“PAWM-PIE, HYPERSPACE TRUTH, AND THE QUANTUM”

STARTING BLOG:

Throughout my years of blogging, I have slowly introduced some very wild way out concepts to the world, but nothing told is misleading, lying, or unknown by some people on this planet. The exception is one small thing that was needed to maintain my sanity, and this is old news and has to do with a fib I told about Sarah being on the bus that night with her “Quoddy-Mocker” group of summer time seashore girls, back on the night of the 12th of July in 1970. I wish I never told this small untruth, but it was done, and admitted to, and apologized for. All other things are true to the best of my knowledge, I never said I have all of the magical answers, but I did my best to connect one hell of a lot of cosmic dots together, the gods themselves should be somewhat impressed with my effort, but that is their business. The majority of peeps that will stumble onto the blogs I write in 2011 and 2012, will never go back and see how a lot of this blogging began, and really get a true powerful foundation, so I need to slowly redo and reiterate, many things that were once told and perhaps now with better updated vantage points and perspectives, things may be said even better and clearer than they were before. Before I tell anything that was told before however, here is a powerful thing that I have kept along with many other huge cats, tightly safely and snuggled up together, in a powerful burlap bag, and tonight is the time for this huge one to be permitted to escape and learn how to indeed operate the Uncle Heinz Gottwald cameras of 1972 circa Babylon, New York. May the gods shudder, Mister McGuire.

These two cats come out as one cat out of the bag, they are well related together and whether a reader knows shy or how, depends on how much if any, past blogs of mine, they may or may not be aware of, and the powerful information spoken on them from 6 and 5 and 4 and 3 years back. On the website of www.blogger.com/ things will show a history of these blogs, but it is more than this one long newest listing under the heading of TEOHIV or what it stands for, when this is written out, “The Epitome Of Harassment, internet Version”. All other titles spring out of this one on this current series of blog texts, but four prior blogs under a different title also exist, before this TEOHIV, on this site of blogger-dot-com.

Yesterday was very bad, as were the past three Saturday's preceding that date as well. Anyone who starts reading one month back from right now, can see that even Albert Einstein, would be totally incapable of producing all of this, in a faked way, just to get attention or be ridiculous. An ignoramus moron slow person; keeping things PC, oh boy; or THAT-BOY of the BOB (Book-Of Beach), from 1969 Russel Rape Victim Product Thaxton of the McGuire's Fires, known about akashicly if in no other recorded way; can see with totally picture-perfect accuracy and clarity; that things cannot be dismissed because many would be a bit happier with that outcome, nor can all of this be either a total coincidence, nor the product of a totally sick and twisted deluded psychotic mind. Naturally, suffering this much monstrous hell for so long at the hands of unfathomably unscrupulous horrendous deplorable entities or whatever; will leave me damaged and quite severely, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, and you name the 'ALLY', including those where one might be expected at midnight to get themselves mugged by criminals.

Paula King, and we all know your other names, allow this 'mysterious' dude to tell you a few things that I know you were never told, since you enjoy traversing the 5th dimension (hyperspace) in your somnambulism-sleep, with such passion and vigor; or maybe you merely do what comes naturally to a mighty great Astral plane Viqueen, but I have loved you ever since you raped me on the 4th of July in 1969, and told me you were too old for me and were married and not from the Atlantic City area. Well, whatever your awake mind is consciously aware of right now if you are reading these words some day; oh mighty Viqueen Paula Jewelly; part of you was from the area at the time, as you may have been asleep and dream controlling a doppelganger body from this dimension in the hyperspace, but once this was done, physical effects do not change, just as in the case of the Virgin Mary and the Virgin Birth. I do not appreciate that you stole my daughter away from me, but I do forgive you. But then, as Russel Thaxton knows only too well from his prison cell; you cannot get a positive result, not really, out of such a horrific experience of the magnitude of being either raped, or the product thereof. You may be ass wealthy as Donald Bassler Trump, but we all know that money solves only one problem that life throws our way, financial stuff. This is no immunity to all the other of life's multiple parameters. But somebody knew this when I spoke it aloud in my apartment yesterday, Saturday, and sent me DIRECTLY-TO-HELL, with a powerful noise persecution, that lasted until nearly three in the morning today, Sunday; with absolutely no Ronald Punch-Out Vandegrift McDonald's, no passing go, and definitely, NO COLLECTING TWENTY THOUSAND COPPER PENNIES. I will bet that with all your hyperspace travels, my lovely PK, you did not know your wonderful husband was part owner of a patent that changed my life in ways that words like astronomical and James Patterson, can never start doing any real justice too. This machine however that he shared a patent on, was not really from this part of hyperspace. I was told this by an electronics expert, shortly after our biodaut was getting started in the great RIAA, and laying right in-between these two times at around dead center, was when I copyrighted the illustrious mysterious book called, “The Permission Barrier”, known well by the Camden County Prosecutor Office in New Jersey at this time, just not Congressman Robert Andrews, and his lovely ex-angel from KINGS HIGHWAY, in that cool little flop/flat/pad/crib/whatever later on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In the dimension where this machine really was designed and built and was bought by fifty million people by late in the year of 1985, making the Cola a billionaire, where he still lives in Denver, Colorado, in that part of the 5th dimension, and is alive and well, which is more than I can say for Patty J. and his pal Red J. However, in 1986, a very powerful thing happened. All these machines were somehow linked together with nobody ever physically doing this, it just happened, to use your word with me near that stage, where you, me, and MI were all standing a little over a year ago; and in that same place in HS. This is where also where my Uncle Heinz was still alive and ten years younger for whatever reason, and was telling me that he was planning on murdering his wife, Ruth Gottwalt, my mother's cousin. He had financed through the Chemical National Bank of Manhattan, over there, the company that marketed this Privecode machine, where as over here, major different hyperspace paths were crossed into through the time dimension, as a result of the intertwining effects of the entire 6th dimensional signals. I also know that you are keeping some of these secrets, so I thought tonight wold be a nice time to blow the lids off, as my new forming group needs all the ammunition like this that it can get their hands on. I am so totally disappointed in you PK, even though I will love you forever. You couldn't let things alone when you found out certain truths about HER former existence, where she was known in Atlantic City, but here is where the proof comes in beautiful PK. We were but ten and now we're old, I loved you then, but I never told. These lyrics in my SARAH SONG written on the 12th day of May in 1996, never mention to the public, how SHE came to me at the age of ten once, and then again, 1969 and 1980, and this is where I took the 1994 year and did TPB and © this book, hoping the equation of 1969-1980-1994-2011 would kick in as what I have since refered to and termed “PITSY YEARS, for Port In The Storm. After the machines all connected together, so did the two worlds in hyperspace, just as you knew somehow that they would, and you say I am mysterious. Wow, is this the pots, talking to those old kessles again; from Munich Germany? The parlor trick of lab technicians was not hard to deduce when all was said and done and properly analyzed, KP, your real name that you did not give me in the nineteen-sixties, has to do with the medical community of Ireland. Jeepers, it is not such a stretch that Donna Alexander was a Lab Tech at the ACMC now known as the Atlanticare of New Jersey, or our kid, over on Grant Avenue off of I-95. This is why the earthquake happened hit yesterday, so-sorry, messing and testing can be messy and testy. The Copyright Office needs not worry about MI tapes or my sheets of yellow paper much longer. UI am heading over to Afghanistan or Iraq before this month is over, and you will all be rid of me. When Ann King pulls off your fake hair, Donald, she will send me an electronic mail attachment, the internet is everywhere, just as over in that other Harrah Sarah world, it is the Gawnum Invasion, (CGI), use your imagination if you think I left a word out that fits the abbreviation, as I did.

I tried to warn the world to back off and stop wrecking my fucking life, but they would not agree, so unfortunately, things may turn a bit volatile. Oh the great cheated markets will fly for a while, but sooner or later, Michael Moore and the gang will win out over this vile sick EVIL EMPIRE, I am not one bit afraid of any of you fucking mother loving early to rise gaining hairs of antimatter. The Quantum is the real truth, and the real truth is that nothing makes one bit of sense. Humanity cannot handle this truth, believe me folks, the real truth would totally not set you free. Like many fairy tales, this one too got a great head start. Maybe tonight's blog will the beginning of its decapitation.

Phase four beings such as Mister Bassler from over there also, or Paula Voice Technology of Law and Order, or even type-3 exploratrons who may share some first names with phase four prior mentioned entities; all notwithstanding; has no rational explanation. The problem ladies and gentlemen is simple and may knock your world apart just a bit. In quantum truth, it does not have to, and we all exist in this quantum truth, and the mighty shaky Hawk knows all this, and is smart enough to not blow the fucking mind of the world, or burden society with enough hell to destroy its very sanity. But since I need to use this weapon, THEN BY THE GODS, I WILL USE this WEEAPON, and another one also. MY FACEBOOK PAGE WILL BE OPERATIONAL SOON, AND ON IT, WILL BE THE IRREFUTABLE PROOF BY THE UNITED STATES STATE DEPARTMENT AND MOTOR VEHICLES DIVISION OF FLORIDA, AND ALSO A NOW NATIONALLY RECOGNIZED CHARITIBLE ORGANIZATION; that there is no DORIAN GRAY, only a powerful story of abduction, families from beyond the stars; and a dude who better never show his face around here; and he knows who he is. A hubcap is one thing, but a daughter is another. If we meet up in Central Park, you will need that hubcap tapper of yours, and Ann said to tell you to look around for the motorcycles. She is mad right now.

I know that things are the way that they are, because of some poor decisions made by me; and I simultaneously know, that hyperspace, and exploratron travel; are all real, because I have seen their reality, and I have been directly experienced by their effects. Also, I have been adversely, and mortally wounded; in my very essence of beingness, PK; yet despite all of that, I love you, you crazy wild girl!!!!!!!!Tell cuzz Maria Stoemeyer that she would love my nabes!

END OF BWOG, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0258

2011-11-05T14:50:00.000-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0259
SATURDAY AND 4 STRAIGHT SATURDAY BOTBAR
MOTHER FUCKING ATTACKS FROM FUCKING OTAMM-SCUM
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE FOUR:
“YOU BROUGHT IT, NOW I'LL BRING IT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

START OF BLOG:

A stupid dorky snotty ass child can take this blog, SC-0259, and read back throughout the past three Saturdays, and see exactly what happened. This is the miracle of telling the mother fucking truth and never bullshitting as many bloggers do and think I do because their stupidity does not understand that even the mighty mind of Albert Einstein could not fake something this incredible, YO.

Let us take the medical condition and problem that these same enemies gave me in the late spring in the year of 1983, and see how these dirt bag scum bags exacerbated this and messing with my identity and insurance on the internet somehow, back as the blogs tell accurately.

Lisa, McGuire, Trump, and other enemies; were mentioned and I was not one bit mother fucking shy about telling the powerful truths about how these soulless mother fuckers hurt innocent people, and bang, they assaulted me horrendously, just as they are doing today with loud noise all over, fire alarms, blasting stereos, you name it, it is all around me, relentlessly all fucking day from the minute I climbed out of bed shortly past eleven this fucking ass morning. Nobody on this planet from Albert to the mighty new age Albert, Mister Hawking, could fake all of this mother fucking bull shit, and if this world thinks that I have successfully done it, YOU ARE FUCKING PAYING ME THE HUGEST COMPLIMENT IN THE WORLD, AND I THANK YOU, BUT YOU ARE GIVING ME WAY TOO MUCH FUCKING CREDIT, BELIEVE ME BRAH!!! Still the endless question beggars the imaginations of any thinking entity non-lobotomized, and that is WHY AM I SO FUCKING IMPORTANT? Also just who really are THEY?

Well, I am not one bit fucking important, but the name HUNTINGTON is. This is the family lineage that went beyond and survived the lineage of Stuart, from Scotland. “THEY” or the MILITUFORCE is all explained in the days of the BLUEBOOK PROJECT OF THE UNITED FUCKING STATES AIR FORCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We can make this complex and blog forever, or say, it is just this simple, right RED JOHN? Do the MOVERS own Hollywood? Well, what I think, or you think; and this would include comment makers such as the list of 'nice peeps on UM'; is meaningless, as truth is not altered by what we believe; despite many theories or religious concepts. A simpleton can see that somebody is destroying my family, and me; and it will never ever stop or end. Are all the clues there and out in the open? Give me a break folks. Still, the major and main concepts are printed now, including parallel event and using it or the ICPE tools and the PAWM-PIE-ETTOS. If the KJV of HOLY WORDS is a powerful and real honest translation, then all the truth is there, and needs to be figured out, as no other truth can exist outside of it. Still, it is written in the King's English, literally, not in direct language that this All Mighty being really uses. One thing I will tell this world in all witness and honesty, and you can all laugh at me until your freaking ass hearts content. There is some evil force that is so real and so powerful, and I the perhaps the only one alive, who needs no bible to absolutely know this is the truth. Whatever and WHOEVER Satan really is, an advanced android from a million years from now or whatever, it hates me specially, and will not stop attacking me specially, until I am Squire Trilane Star Trek, 'DEAD-DEAD-DEAD', McCoy Whales.

END OF THIS NIGHTMARE BLOG, and Harbor dreams are still bad.

KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0258

2011-11-04T00:49:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0258
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“JUDGE ME, HATE ME, BUT YOU WILL NOT DISPROVE ME”

START OF BLOG:

This is just a quick pre-dawn counter-attack. Just a few simple things will be said, but powerful stuff nonetheless, as the old song proclaims.

First I will take us to animals, without even making any connections in tonight's blog, with either the PAWM-PIE-ETTOS, or any of numerous mentioned by me incidents, involving the sub-human world amongst us, mentioned on blogs from years back; and not ever forgetting the Great Dane Dog named after month number 7, in our current Gregorian style calendrical system of keeping time, over at the Cifaloglio Trash Truck place in the area of Folsom, New Jersey, where I was employed indirectly through then as a private contract security officer in the early first years of our great and wonderful twenty-first century. I have a friend here in Florida who is a retired Veterinarian. You will be seeing in my opinion, within ten years or less, the works of this gifted soul, printed in science journals, as well as all over the media as attention becomes literally transfixed upon it as it ultimately will. As many know, from Main Street to wall Street, this is a totally controlled society, with gargantuan illusions of freedom, world wide. Wild new ideas catch on under certain circumstances, the most high listed of the bunch being if money can be made as a result of the introduction of this new 'whatever-thing' into the mainstream and culture of the ordinary population, or said maybe a bit better; us controlled folks. You need not be concerned with why I type these TRS secrets tonight, I know exactly what I'm doing in this personal horrendous fight between myself and the evil WOMO. You need not even speculate, just read on. Animals of all kind in this world, are living in an entirely different realm than us humans, sharing only the physical realities with us. They are a totally different species than humankind, and having this so called SOUL, has nothing whatsoever to do with any of it. Every physical item has its Astral Plane counterpart, as well as unlimited 5th dimensional hyperspace doppelgangers. Animals have total telepathy and are tens of thousands of years ahead of humankind, for the most part, ignoring the goings on of us, who they think of as their cohabitants of Planet Earth, They need to have frequency and square wave audible matching sonic connections between them, but that is merely a connection such as a telephone connects persons separated by distances. The barking of a dog or the meowing of, not ODF hacker scum, a cat; is nothing more than the necessary dial up of a so-called animal-phone. Then after the phone is connecting them with each other, the real communications begin, with a powerful mental merging, something talked about in my earlier blogs, in some detail. This telepathic communication cannot be done by us humans, other than in rare short mini versions of the real deal, that comes very naturally, by the sub-human species. But how sub-human is all of this, and should I be typing super instead of sub? Animals are oblivious to our world, our attempts to train them beyond certain points, and then we in our scientific wisdom, and so forth, declare them to be maxed out brain-wise, with limited learning abilities, when in truth, they are playing along, to a point, with us; and know exactly what goes on with us and our world, only they stopped caring about out silly nonsensical junk, a long time back in their 'evolution', or whatever word is a comfy choice for the individual readers of this blog. However, animals can have huge effects on many things that WE are totally oblivious of, and are indeed completely fooled by. Not only can certain powerful animals do this, THEY DO IN FACT DO THIS, and with our great human minds deceived and totally oblivious to it. Most of the time, the results are positive, effecting our moods in positive ways, proving through years of statistical analysis in fact that pet owners have lower blood pressure, live years longer, and much more, than the non-pet owners. Still and as with all things, what goes up must come down. All upsides thus have to have down sides, and this indeed is no different at all. Most of the time, it is the things that fly that all seem to gravitate together, biological, or mechanical, so birds since we are in the discussion mode of animal life, are those who fly. As one of my blogs from 2007 states, during a powerful storm at the Mullica Township, New Jersey Trailer Park where I resided at the time, all the birds flocked around me and came to rest in a huge circle all around me, while lightning flashed and I was in communication with HER through a series of quantum related coded systems, allowing HER to control otherwise random number generated machines that converted into sentences and words. Flies at Haddonwood Swim and Health Club in the middle nineties, would swarm right at me and bite me, and only me, and every time an exact low flying airplane would come and fly over the outdoor swimming pool, and this happened without fail, day after day. One day I was so angry, I did not climb out, but leaped totally out of the pool, catching the attention of several people, the dude calling himself the 'Holy Spirit Lifeguard', the owner of the club, and a few other swimmers and onlookers, details to this need not be addressed at this exact time and place. Now this topic is merely a small crack opening, and much more will later continue on with this, so for now I will take us to another item.

Many people have many faiths, including no faith at all, and this is entirely everybody's own business, but I am here tonight to print some irrefutable freaking facts. If you do not want to take the chance of becoming very uncomfortable in short order, stop reading now or move onto the blogs of Limo-Driver Charlie, and his starry stories, or perhaps if you are hungry, you might try Aunt Gladys Ann' famous Mississippi Cherry Pies. If you read on here, you will not like what gets said. Caveat Emptor.

If you pick up the Christian Bible, I use the translation of the King James (KJV), you will hear the most fantastic story ever told, or at least this is what we all have been told, and who am I to say boo about that? You can be a big fan of human psychiatric sciences and mind studies, or a scoffer, or be any place in-between, but wherever you may be, I can prove to you what I now will tell you, and it is incredible. There is a book medically universally accepted by all mind-docs, called the DSM, I believe the total now is 5 published volumes as ODF the OF HACKER SCUM, as of the date of this blog, one month shy of birthday 57 years for me. This DSM-5 if studied with scrutiny by top recognized experts, who also go on to study the OLD TESTAMENT of the KJV HOLY BIBLE, have no choice but to conclude that all of my MORIANITY must have some powerful mysterious validity to it, after studying MORIANITY as well, of course, and these unfathomable truths are as follows. There is a high probability and in some cases, a total 100% diagnosis based on the DSM-5, that the god of the bible is a female entity in her middle teens, who if seen as a patient for a psychiatric treatment and evaluation, would be written as egocentric, insanely jealous, heavily neurotic, schizophrenic, multiple personality disorder, bipolar disorder with major related psychotic features, and believe me folks, the list does go on and on. Granted, this is frail man using his frail science to try and diagnose this unlimited all powerful GOD, but still and all, in lieu of MORIANITY and the life of Mountainpen, it is nothing less than a fascinating truth that indeed it works out this way, but don't take my word for a thing, check it out real well, do a year's worth of powerful homework and legwork, then tell me how I am so far off base with my last 6+ years of wild blogs. I never said I know it all peeps, just that you cannot put 1000 watts of power through a 10 watt speaker. Our human minds are not designed to think in quantum dynamics. Someone today told me that GOD thinks in QD and that is why the gap between us and this awesome entity, exists. This is putting it simple and compressing it a few bazillion times, but it does mirror image the truth and what Morianity is all about,and these blogs.

The final TRS tonight is MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY, the secret covert best kept hush-hush on Planet Earth, who this firm really is, what they do, the whole 27 feet, 9 yards, 324 inches, whatever Congressman Pileggi Bands. This is a dummy company for Resorts hotel Casino of Atlantic city, New Jersey, and this is a dummy front for the Central Intelligence Agency, and this is a dummy front that takes the heat and blame, for the real power house black file agencies (BFA), one recognized one in recent years forced out of its great closets of darkness and stealth, being the No such agency, (NSA), and its realer name of course. My life can be divided into sections no matter how much I hate admitting to this. 1) Before leaving school, 2) Jim Burr, 3) Chocking condition in Atco and meeting Lightning in ways most never do, even those struck by her, 4) Writing the song called, “REAL GOOD GIRL”, 5) My great quest to find the missing teenager who forever changed my life, 6) Coming to see the powerful truth that numbers 1-5 were really all one and the same deal all along, and this pathway towards final enlightenment is still ongoing, and began about seven years after the nineteen hundred were forever washed into history. It is difficult to explain this any better, as this was a maximum effort, just to get this paragraph printed out. Jim Burr was Jim Pratt in my 1994 'fictional-book' called, “The Permission Barrier”. This book ended the lives fictionally of course, not all that differently in event or time, of both my mother Grace Mason Mohr, as well as my best friend in adult life, David Charles Roth, who I met at a guard job working retail security late in the year of 1985. It was David who sneaked a super secret chart, out of his Masonic Lodge, showing me how I am directly related back to Samuel Huntington, how he was directly related back to Mary Stuart the Queen of Scotland, and how SHE was directly descended from King David of the Old testament Bible. A few years after this, along came Dan Brown, the great author of books, about Jesus having a secret daughter, named what else but SARAH? Right after David and I made contact with the Camden County Prosecutors Office in New Jersey, along came the greatest law show to ever hit television, “LAW & ORDER”.

I got your message MI, and will obey my wonderful TQ. Think how scared I was three years ago on that road trip. Life is a learning experience, but I am always here if you need me, 24-7-365.2422, and you know it! IWALU. If I survive your wild cousins, it will be quite an experience, perhaps it is there to make me a stronger person. You know that all I am seeking after and have been for a long time now, is the truth, nothing more, nothing less. Just take good care of you, as your wonderful song says, you deserve to smile.

END OF BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0257

2011-11-03T20:48:00.000-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0257
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“NEIGHBORHOOD PERSECUTION VERY BAD QUITE A WHILE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

A silly stupid tiny child can see things that need not be blogged, literally a thousand freaking things, and you all know it, those paying attention aniwho, for several years, YO. If I tried to list all of this, it would be several hundred if not a thousand or more pages long. I won't waste Ernie Merker's time, or mine, or yours, folks.

Two of my neighbors here in the building have been very mother fucking annoying. One across from me for 10 days or so, the noisy music all day blaster has been bad all day long today, beginning at just after eight this moUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, and it still is going strong now at 22 past 10 tonight, the dude is a total fucking whack job, how can anyone want to listen to anything for 15+ hours unless something is wrong with their head, or else they have paid paid off by WALL STREET ENEMIES, who have gained nearly a thousand point s in the past two days, EXACTLY AS I PREDITED AND TOLD YOU MY GIANT LOVELY GINA, YO!!!

My computer clock is messed with constantly, but no longer reflects Pacific time, but Central time, and no longer does 36th Avenue show up as my IP computer matched address, in San Mateo, Cali, KALI. I just fixed it inside my computer control panel, so let me move the blog along, a very short one,m as enemies will be major ass sorry for this persecution. Most of what I will counterstrike retaliate tattle tail on is beyond unbloggable, but I will concentrate on families, beyond the galaxies and further-most stars, and quantum physics, and tell a few powerful and specific things, and if I am killed, then fuck it, I'm killed. I am being super hacked tonight, ROBERT MCDOWELL, MY OLD SCHOOL CHUM, FROM HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY, AND THE OVER-SEER OF THE FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, or the (FCC) for short abbreviation. H—E—L--P------M--E, please, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you do not realize how many powerful people I know, and how much I have on so many of you out here, it is totally pathetic on your part, words like embarrassment or scandal do not even begin to describe it, sore throats and all, Shirley Hammonton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Finally, my complaint about rules of noise being broken, will be done in person at ten of the clock this morning, as I need to see the office personnel about getting a door pass card, they have installed something and I need to have this or I could get locked out should I be trying to get in at an unusual time, and no one is around or in the lobby area who knows me. We will get this taken care of, or I will go as high as I need to. There is no excuse for all night loud music, and the rules will be enforced, or the GOVERNOR OF THE STATE OF FLORIDA, WILL HEAR FROM ME, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The entire family is in a total mess, thanks to LISA of EGG HARBOR!!! This person is SATAN INCARNATE, with or without poison cupcakes from transdimensional Incollingo Grocery stores of the harbors of New Jersey, or any of the magical EEEEEEEEEE sounds of the multiverse, quantitatively, singularly, or in any mixed or multiplexed fashion whatsoever, BRAH! The reason behind the whole thing is MUSIC CONNECTED AS ALWAYS. I wanted Ann to send me my music that she has in her possession, and as soon as I asked her for this, I knew the family would begin to go through a major despicable upheaval. Ann was served last week with harassment papers, and must go to court. Forces in this family have tentacles that reach into a quantum level that cannot be safely blogged, as if I said too much, the one man on this Earth, SH, not SHHHHHH, would know that I know, and then POW. Movers and Stayers are a real truth. Like it or not folks, things like RGG and © 1986 tapes that begin with certain nicknames, have no Patrick Jane rational explanation. They cannot be explained, and even genius Ed Himacane recognized this as reality. So for right now, I will sleep, get up, and go and complain to the office staff, and if this is not stopped, I am going to Tallahassee to the office of the Governor. ***********************
***END OF THIS TRANSMISSION, STEAMER MESS INCORPORATED.***

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0256

2011-10-28T20:54:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0256
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR”
“AND AGAIN I TOLD YOU, GIANT GINA OF THE EMPIRE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

As I said, Gina, as well as all Morians and Lessians, and Inbetweenians; torment and persecute me with sickness and noise attacks, aerial attacks, and endless PAWM-PIE-ETTOS HOLOGRAM ATTACKS, and this EVIL FUCKING EMPIRE, has but one direction to go, and that is UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All week long, their evil STOCK MARJET flew up higher and higher, closing near 12 thousand 3 hundred points today, Friday. Their CHEMTRAILS poisoned me and made me very ill, I may not live, I AM VERY SICK. If I die, I WAS FUCKING MURDERED BY THE MILITARY AND GOVERNMENT, MISTER MICHGAEL MOORE. I do not hear anything any longer about your great group, I new I, should have stayed out of it and kept my MOTHER FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MOUTH SHUT. THIS IS THE FYUCKING BULLSHIT I ALWAYS GET AS A RESYULT OF INTENSE PRAYER AND ASKING THE POWERFUL JEHOVAH FOR HER HELP, IT IS A VERY OLD SONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The tune is very familiar, and ancient as Aramaic itself, Lois.

Told you the Phillies would blow out, and the markets would go endlessly up, despite all the fucking scardy cats that panic every time the illegal Wall Street criminals put money in their pockets by driving the shit down and taking profits, and then just buying back, OVER AND OVER AND OVER, it is the totally crookedest game in fucking town; and the “poor-99” still want to invest their ball busted little savings in rip off retirement plans, wow; if this is not the 'epitome of stupidity', to quote the late fucking great DAVID CHARLES ROTH, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Most likely, I will be fucking dead by sometime next week, and then the entire EVIL EMPIRE WILL TOTALLY FUCKING COLLAPSE. When this wicked disease no longer has me to use ICPE against, there will be no way of gaining any more crooked points on their cheated game called the DJIA-ICPE. Interest rates went to zero, and then they even charge you to hold your money now, but this will not be enough, this capitalist pig world will totally fall apart once I am fucking gone and they cannot use me any longer to get their mother fucking way, dog.

I knew things were 'reale' fucking bad this morning around shy of noon, when I awakened from a powerful EGG HARBOR, NEW JERSEY DREAMING-INTERACTION, something that has not happened top me in 5 years or so now, PTL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The details are unbloggable, involving my two dauts. Florida was connected into it, and a large news truck was stalking and following me, driving very fast and erratically, is seemed to be filled with many newspapers, and a weird looking driver. Later when it crashed, the driver told me in dying words, that Paula King paid him to do it, and that McGuire Paid the other dude in 1996 at Turnersville. Then the two men appeared next to each other, and began merging into one man. Only my mother saw the wild terrorist in 1996 that said he was going to fucking kill me, I did not; despite the misleading Washington Township Police Department making a false report and reversing what I had told them. And this fucking world wonders why I DO NOT TRUST A SINGLE ASS FUCKING SOUL? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISSION 4 NOW, LOTS MORE SUPER SHIT TO TELL!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0255

2011-10-26T19:35:00.000-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0255
ENTRY DATFILE: SUPPLEMENTAL
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
AT&T, GIANT GINA & GIANT PIPES UNDER FLOORS

START OF THIS BWOG, ELMER FWUDD:

This will be a short and sweet one. First, I told you Giant Gina, and all others who read these bwogs, whaaaaaa, that hurting me and putting me through hell, has a powerful 90-100 percent paralleling event that puts the STOCK PRICES HIGHER AND HIGHER ON WALL STREET IN MANHATTAN. This all started in the middle nineteen eighties, just as the poisonous chemtrails began in the later eighties.

What would Hollywood do without me folks, you either know the answer to this, or you are a quintessential fool, and this answer is to GO BROKE!

I may not recover from this latest chemtrail attack, I am quite ill, and others around me are getting ill as well. Peeps working with me tell me they are getting pains in their hearts, they are coughing badly, and it is getting worse on as daily basis. We are being murdered and poisoned by WOMO enemies, and the FEDS either do not give a fuck, or else, they are simply giving their blessing and bail out permissions, to the few hundred families, who own us all; and who have sold us all out, MISTER MICHAEL MOORE, YO!

I TOLD YOU ALL THAT THE STOCK MARKET WOULD REACH 12 THOUSAND POINTS. I TOLD YOU ALL, SO WHO IS LAUGHING NOW, CALL-ATT-10-OAKLAND-KALI?

They have ruined many families, these owner-families, and anyone who speaks the truth is labeled a whack job, wow, talk about a license to commit murder. What are you up to these days, Selena Dada? Has Jimmy appeared to you yet on the beaches of sand sweeping Atlantic City? Have the little micro crawlers invaded the entire 6th dimension, or what? Obviously, GAWKY knows these answers, and perhaps a couple of Pat's. So how am I the mysterious one? Blame Lisa for everything, not me. She does the dirty work, then turns around, and makes it appear that innocent peeps did shit; the gods, what a HO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So sorry you cannot talk the way you used to Sarah Santa Callio Clause, but this world is rapidly changing, as the I-Ching says it must. But Gawky tends to be a lot more code breaking specific than Mister IC. 401 Virginia McGettigan Avenue, wow, horseman Bill, how crooked is the system in that wonderful city, oh I forgot, you all ready experienced that whittle interaction back in the freggin' nineteen sixties, dog. No wonder the World Labs Code broke up the phone Company in the mighty 1986 minus three, the atomic number, proton, electron, neutron. Then there is the flat surface illusion in the hypersphere, where 6 opposing directions convert into 4, but are these Bills horses, or the great winds that blow?

By Friday, Dow Jones, 12,400.
By next Friday, it will be 12,900.
By the end of November, it will be 13,700.
By the end of 2012, it will be 15,000 points.

MARK MY MOTHER FUCKING WORDS, AS THEY ARE TORTURING AND KILLING ME. Let me prove to you that this EVIL EMPIRE means none of us little ,99% nobody-folks, one bit of good.

Why as their great markets rise, so does gasoline, doubling from prices of 20 months ago?

Why is unemployment not going down if this great Wall Street is gaining and gaining, if this is good for us, and not just fucking them?

Why are we all feeling the pinch worse every day and year, us little 99-folks, and yet the markets keep going UP AND UP AND UP AND UP, why, if this is good for us?

Michael Wayne Mountainpen, and Michael Moore, both know these answers, so how many out here of you know them too, YO?

As long as we have the 'PATS' and their 'PARLORS', we cannot hope to have a Jimmy Hoffa ghost of a chance to ever make things better for us, unless we use, as I said yesterday, the great MT, THE MORIANITY TRILOGY, YO? Yes, if Trump is in the Tower, big girl, are the Pats in the Parlor? I mean, if anyone really thinks that the opening of that song more than 25 years ago, could have been somehow preplanned by me, then why aren't I in control; of my own destiny now today? WAKE UP FOLKS, how can you stand that coffee stench all over your house? It is all on the blogs from the tail end of the oh-7 year, through right now, it is non disputable, and they know this, so they get dick heads to say nasty things, DUH. *******THIS BLOG ENDS*******

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0254

2011-10-25T16:52:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0254
WORLD LABS DATFILE: 102511.805
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
SUBTITLE FOUR: “AT LEAST I DID NOT FLOOD IT ALL, STEVE J.”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN-(C) 2006-2011
TUESDAY FREAKING EVENING ON THE WORST YEAR OF MY
EMEREFING LIFE, AND NOW I

BEGIN TRANSMISSION:

Well, when WOMO enemies tried to due me in using my mother fucking medical weakness against me over the weekend, the DOW JONES did hit 12K, but my blog from Monday eventually kicked in for today and did some damage to this EVIL MICHAEL MOORE EMPIRE!!!!!!

Mike, old pal. I went up here a month ago and told my small blogaud as I call it, 'readers' who for the most part hate my living mother fucking guts, but since you have credibility and know how to make peeps fucking respond to this nightmare, sir, that I know fully well that you are cognizant of the full importance behind all this horrendous evil shit; so perhaps, you can get this new movement off to a better start and eventually do the magical things. Yes, I enjoyed seeing your interview on the TV the other night, and I'm behind you and TRUTH, until I draw my last mother fucking breath of my miserable ass life, YO.

If you would read my blogs old buddy, and realize how powerful the GAWNUM is, as well as the WALL STREET ICPE parlor trick, that I PROVED WORKS IN OTHER SO-CALLED IMPOSSIBLE THINGS SUCH AS 8 MONTHS OF CONSISTANT ROULETTE WINNING BACK IN 1986, and also, yes, turkey knives and countries too, EM, or ELECTRONIC-METAPHYSICS; taking these three things in freaking tandem, is indeed the secret weapon that this OCCUPATION is going to need to use, or it will not withstand or defeat this totally EVIL EMPUIRE, from which I have been a major victim of their unspeakable monstrous devices for three-five decades of time now, in my present form as Mark Wayne Mohr!!!!!!!! Now Mike sir, I am not one bit sad about the Mexican Earthquake back in 1985, nor Turkey after they almost covertly murdered me by cutting off my medications over the weekend. What these diseased power-monger fucking bastards refuse to accept, is that I have powers of my own, through knowledge, virtual wizardry beyond Harry Potter or any of Marne Callio Botbar and her friends; can dream of from now through the 64 Terra-Year cycle of the endless circulating hypersphere. Mike old pal. Take this movement that I know only two well what started it all, and do a Billy Graham He is Calling on this, you have more than my blessing, as I can do nothing, as the 'Chosen Huntington', I also twin out as the Cursed Man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But you will need the power of the Morian Trilogy, and once again, this is EM, Gawnum, and ICPE, this ICPE is the abbreviated letters for INTENTIONALLY-CREATED PARALLEL EVENT. My 6+ years of blogging, tells the entire story, Mister Moore, [please read it carefully, and have this great wonderful movement use it as a guide. With the MT, you will find the missing ingredient to accomplish your wonderful aspiring goals. Without it, I doubt it has much chance, believe me, I know this because I know how powerful it truly is. If I could have just convinced one person with clout throughout my blogging nightmare career, and to show them that we could have shorted the entire 30 Industrial Dow Stocks, and driven it down to 1000 points again where it belongs, or 2000 tops; simply by putting me into a safe place of luxury, and giving me the simple pleasures I want, and then permitting the parallel event to happen, that ultimately would fully totally fucking doom this empire forever, so that all of these evil wicked wealthy diseased pricks would fall into the hell fires where they fucking belong for what they have done to me, now, and all the way back to the sixties, with or without crying teary eyed Indian Chiefs on rowboats, or songs posted on U-TUBE. This is all very real Michael Moore, old pal, If you put my GAWNUM ion software, as I give anyone permission to do as long as they do not steal and profit on it by selling it without paying me a rightful percentage; but use it, and see how right I am. Ask it all the questions you need, regarding this new great movement, and know, that I'm freaking behind all of you 100%. You are my only ticket out of this hellish freaking nightmare!!!!!!!! I am not one bit saddened by any misery caused by my EM counterattacks, as innocent by standers are always a product of war, and I did not initiate this fucking war, it was totally thrust upon me folks, YO. At least I never flooded the world, and now, THIS BLOG TRANSMISSION TERMINATES, PEEPS! BYE-BYE!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0253

2011-10-25T12:58:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0253
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START OF FREAKING BLOG:

Another heavy day of WOMO SIEGE is upon me, as well as the normal Florida 2011 INVISIBILITY/HOSTILITY ARERA HOLOGRAM ATTACK!!!!!

CHEMTRAILS are quite bad, ALL THOUGH I HAVE SEEN WORSE, AND THEY ARE MAKING ME GET SICKER AND SICKER, BUT THENM, OTHER PEEPSW ARE ALL COUGHING ALL AROUND ME AS WELLO, SO IT IS NOT JUST MY DNA THAT THEY EFFECT, YO.

I CAN PROMISE THE WORLD, AS I HAVE MADE ME PROMISES, THAT THE DOW JONES STOCK MARKET must now be flying way over 12K points, and I all ready know my Phils were ruined and wrecked, MISTER WOLF-74!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just watch, this attack that wiped out or tried to, my getting my needed meds to physically survive, sorry turkey knives and cuzz's, this has gone on as long as it will, WITHOUT DIRE MOTHER FREAKING BUTT WIPE CONSEQUENCES, DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will tell huge secrets as soon as I come back, right now, this needs to post just shy of freaking four PM-EDST, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANNY, GRANNY!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0252

2011-10-24T02:04:00.000-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0252
TMCAM/TEOHIV/MORPRO-1995
SUBTITLE FOUR:
“I DEMAND FEDERAL PROTECTION”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
WORLD LABS OF 2296 DATFILE:
CH-0252-102411.123, Monday moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning
THESE ARE TRUTHS SWORN UNDER VOLUNTARY LEAGAL OATH:

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

My identity has been messed with, and not for any monetary gain on anyone's part, first of all, as I own nothing other than a lot of debt, thanks to McGuire, Lisa, and Dawn the King; it would be difficult to acquire what is not there to start with.

The weekend was totally 'BOTBAR'D' or made super hell, by this demonic Lambrigg-base Cult of the Astral Plane, known in more accepted human waking world mortal terms as the realm of demonic angels and their king, SATAN. It began last Wednesday, I do not know what exactly, but it is off the scales huge. They CHEMTRAIL POIONED me and have made me quite ill, diarrhea shit attacks, major heart arrhythmia, sore throat, sore chest, dry coughing, all the symptoms of flu as well as other chemtrail effects, just go up to U-TUBE anybody, and type in CHEMTRAILS, and a billion pieces of information will pop up, so do not take this 'nut case whack jobs word for anything, TAKE CASH unless you are dealing with GOD!! When I went to pick up my medications at the Walgreen Pharmacy, my entire insurance system and identity were wiped clean off of the computer record files, an exact quote of the pharmacy store today, at 25th and Orange Streets, across from my job site, the Harvest Food Outreach Center of Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG. I know for a fact, that it was not Lisa, or Robert McGuire who did this, despite my telling on recent blogging, that these two “human beings” are the two most freaking despicable monsters on Planet freaking Earth!!!!!! I was able to eventually get my meds and waste my day fixing the problem, and believe it or not, I have more worries than just these two. All I can do is slowly get answers from peeps I deal with, but Wednesday of last week was the entire source of all of this horse poop. I do not know what cereal bowl I urinated in, or whose, but somebody is extremely ticked off at me times ten to the power of thirty. I am too sick to work today, but not too freaking sick to blog, and tell some wild things that I do know, all though I confess that there is a huge mountain of nasty junk that I am well aware that I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!! Despite this sounding totally Kateydiculous, I will tell you, that Doctor Harold Camping or his new cult of peeps, is somehow mixed up in all of this, I am not accusing them of activity that is non-legal, I am leaving it at simply, there are things going on that connect them and the so-called doomsday date, into all of this, I have spoken to the cat, and he knows, BRO. In fact, I have moved into a building where a lookalike is the pet of the building, jet black, white paws, the whole twenty-seven feet, only I was speaking of mathematics a sentence back, and am merely adding this to the blog and will elaborate more at a later time, on this situation. There really is nothing that hexnumer equations of the Gawnum, cannot reveal, it is more mind bending than anything. In the spring time of 2010, I blogged a lot about how to expand the GAWNUM EQUATIONS in lieu of doing the simple adding of two PCN's and matching up the PCNT or TOTAL, with both numbers added in so far as digit representation. It is funny, I told Jenny Plageman in Mullica Township, not to make a god out of this wild thing that I learned from a dream-cat in 1980 first, and then more to come after a full quarter century of passed time, and now I make a god out of it, as why not? If you apply the knowledge of properly wording things to match, when they do match, it tells the truth. If the match is not there, the deal is not the truth. Peeps have been looking for a way to accurately know the unknown for a long time, and here it is, and is all told on old blogs, and will all be reiterated on soon to follow new blogs, since no one is going to sift through tons of old blogs. There is a wild method of madness to what I tell, so bear with me, as it is not bull; Wall Street crooks.

The music man next door at my building that blasts music all night from time to time, strikes when a message is left on my telephone by any non bill collector, when I am out. This is done as an annoyance and I only told about the one time, but another time a few days following the event told, Ann King had called and left a message while I was a work at the Harvest of 25th Street, and the minute I came home, boom, the jerk off cranked up his music for the rest of the day. Peeps will either insist this is a coincidence or that I am delusional, and that is fine. As long as the story gets said and told and blogged, I get the truth out, and what becomes of this truth after that, is the property of the COSMOS, or you could say, as would Doctor HC, “God's business”. SATANIC forces caused my automatic spell-checker to write the word DECEIVED on a prior blog, and of course, this was not the word I typed in. Still, what a perfect way to destroy my credibility, huh Beelzebub? It blows my mind how your mind works, and just how powerful you are, paralleled and equaled only by your venomous total evil.

As for the age old debate that Christians beat the scientists on believing that time travel is never accomplished ever in the total history of humankind, and they always site this famous example. If Satan could travel, He would know what Christ's mission on Earth was, and the last thing in the world he would have done is what he did, and have him executed by the Roman Empire on the cross, fulfilling the prerequisites for Christianity's birth. NOT SO, if you really reason it out folks, and bearing in mind that great original STAR TREK television show with Spock's first command and the monster apes that were banging huge rocks on their shuttle craft. Humans and animals tend to react emotionally, and not rationally, especially when provoked to anger. Satan, even more so!!!!!!!!!!!! The story of the proverbial gambler who knows fully well that he or she is gambling away the house and losing the family, is addicted and keeps right on going. All the time this gambler knows the outcome will be negative and disadvantageous, yet on they go. The same thing can be just as easily said for the man who punches the cop, shoots the waiter in the diner, or whatever, you cannot tell me that they do not know and fully appreciate that indeed, there will be resulting consequences that mete out justice for the commission of their actions. Even if somebody snaps out and sees their significant other in bed and cheating on the marriage. The jilted lover grabs a gun out of the drawer next to the bed and before they know it they have shot the son of a bitch in the bed and maybe the spouse as well, and yet I claim that they totally knew that they were doing something horrible, and that in all odds; they will be have to be punished for breaking the laws of God and man. This argument will always exist for me and disproves the Christians hollering that if the devil could time travel, He would never have taken Christ to the cross. All things can be argued and seen at various points of view, and this is shy even the most rigid laws are 'argued' in the courts, world wide, every single day.

All I do know, is that five days ago, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE FOR ME. It was Donaldson, Lufkin, and Jenrette Brokerage of 1995, all over again, me sitting at as long table, drilled and pumped, and things changed after that. They went as far as telling me they are worried for my safety, and also, Big Jess disappeared, and she seemed to be the catapult that put the entire Newtonian hell-day into motion, and this just kept spreading out each day, with more and more spurious bull crap. This is not telling everything, but some of this would never be believed, such as just how Big-Lisa came into came life, along with Christopher Bennett, and other key and pivotal darlings, from McGuire, Dawn, Levy, Callio, and on and on we could go until I puke up maggots and yellow hyperspace cupcakes. I am not able to tell details on this blog as to why she filed charges against Ann King, but my letter in Tuesday morning's mail to Ann, will state how Lisa and Dawn accused me of breaking up not one, but two marriages, both laughable, one being Chicky and Dawn, and the other needs not even be addressed, it is totally absurd, untrue, and not really public information from Beaver Trout Fisa Lane.

I have nothing to be ashamed of, as my sins and crimes are certainly no worse than the average person's here on this sin cursed diseased and totally twisted planet. The amount of persecution that Dawn and Lisa caused me for about a solid year, is unmeasurable, yet Lisa had her prosecutor brother file charges last week on Ann for harassment. Of course, this started directly after, and for no go good reason whatsoever, Earthly speaking, Ann had agreed to make a few calls and say a few things to other family members. Again, all of this is totally unbloggable.

Well PP, I told you a west state would win the World Series, and I told you that the Phillies would blow out. There simply just cannot be this level of persecution on me, and then have the Phillies not blow out. It is simple physics, bodies in motion and at rest, and all other silly meds TV promotion advertising, but you know advertising is a fascinating thing, right Donald Cialoni of 1980? I had totally forgotten about the pollution commercial that did not use my voice illegally, that is until the great reminder hit me.

As for Holy Spirit Lifeguard of Haddonwood, and my effortless pool emerging,on the day of the giant-fly attack, or one of them; it is time for me to tell a huge secret. Linda as many of you know, and not the lady down here who told me to join the parenting class as 'God had spoken to her'; called up and cutely said to me one day in 1978, “hi, is Misses Achilles there?” For those who do not know about the tendon in the ankle or the stories of the heel, let King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon reveal a huge secret now about feet as well as old and new shoes. I never lied about 'thinking forward' to myself in water or air, and then moving, I merely omitted that thinking this, triggers an unconscious movement that I will fully document on the U-Tube soon. My ankles can swing back and forth thousands of times faster than than they should be able to. You cannot see my feet at all, it is a total blur. I may show myself lift ing right off of my bed, but as Jenny Wash said to me years ago, what would it prove, other than I am truly am THAT-BOY who can FLY, Hollywood? Should I say Hellyweird and pretend it is 1986 again? I have a great deal of stuff to tell, but I know some huge deal has to be going on, I have never ever seen things like the past week now, YO folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bye-Bye 4 now brown CAL-10.

END TWANSMISSION, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0251

2011-10-21T23:12:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0251
DATFILE: 102211.062
WORLD LABS OF 2299
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THE EXPANDED STORY OF SERGEANT SNUBS”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, 2006-2011
GOOD MORNING DOCTOR CAMPING AND ALL OTHERS

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

On a blog from one or two years ago, give or take, I told about a man who I worked with as a security officer, down at the Delaware River at Jefferson Street, in Camden, New Jersey, the place was called, McAndrews and Forbes. Basically, he and I, or so I thought at the time, were friends. One day when he was promoted to the rank of Sergeant and given 15 or 20 cents more per hour in wages, he no longer was my friend, just my “supervisor”. I learned at the rape old age of about age 34 years, and around the very same era of the first Gulf War, that if you give people the smallest amount of power, they suddenly change and become gods, they are better than you are, and you are dog-poop to them. In reiterating, let me just say to Mister College Boy, that I know a lot more than you believe that I do, and also, you could not buy me off with 1000 times your total net worth, bud, and if you want to mess and test, do your worst, bitch. This college boy is not my old supervisor, and he does know who he is. Eventually, he will catch on to my term that I use from time to time, and then let him sneeze those demons out of his nose. I underestimated people in my life, and overestimated people in my life, but I suppose there is a pretty good balanced out factor, as a result. Still, my point here today is that there is a lady, who is no lady; who I underestimated quite severely, in all my woes and problems of the recent third decade, and this would be the mighty Lisa of Eggville. I don't want to do a long blog, and am not in the mood quite frankly to blog anything, but necessity often dictates eventualities. Hence, here is blog SJ-0251. Still, whether my mother's old Philadelphia doctor factors in to all of this or not, with this quite uncommon last name, and bears a resemblance to connected other names from the Gulf War, One and Two, held by the hanged man himself and not poor distant cuzz Huntington; and no matter how we may decide to shake this all up and throw these cosmic dice; Lisa turned out to be the hugest problem in the entire family, that has caused me some mild discomfort from time to time over the past years of my adult life and half of my childhood life. I only had the distinguished honer and pleasure to know her on a personal level after about three years ago to this very time in the calendar, and within one short year of my interacting with this large slob of a lady, she totally dwarfs as I have come to see and learn, any and all other negative things that other people have all done badly to me over my lifetime, all combined together. This is simply the truth. Since her brother is the Atlantic County, New Jersey Prosecutor, the power she has is awesome, and the nightmare around me, despite my living fourteen hundred miles away from the lovely harbor, is more than despicable or unspeakable, as really, it is the epitome of unfathomable. Everything that is happening around me in Florida, is all coming from her, THE ACCUSER. She was totally behind what happened to me last freaking Wednesday, only I did not begin to even scratch the surface of telling all of the hell of last Wednesday. Lisa and McGuire are the two most dangerous and deplorable people on this planet, who ever drew breath from its atmosphere, and this is total gospel truth. When I got home on Wednwesday and tried to watch television with my headphones, the headset made a horrendous loud noise on the left side, even when not connected to anything. It finally went away, and not by any normal 'coincidence' or event. I was watching the religious channel on my Comcast Cable television system and had the Billy Graham Crusade from the early nineteen-eighties rerun telecast, on; and when Billy prayed at the end of the crusade, and as he always does; I prayed and told the All Mighty that I repented for my wicked evil sins, and rededicated my life to Jesus Christ. I heard a silent voice inside my head telling me to use my headphones again and they would be somehow OK, and they were. Whatever the WOMO DEMONIC forces did to me, was reversed, at least for now. I intend to buy a new set at the store over the weekend.

Lisa, I know you read these blogs. You are the most evil entity in this multiverse, second only yo SATAN HIMSELF!!! I pray for your evil vicious soul. I pray for this demonic sick and twisted wicked world and its vile evil. Nobody hoped your prophecies would come true more than I did, Doctor Harold Camping. Maybe the All Mighty has finally humbled you out of these silly end day predictions, or maybe you still want to wear sergeant stripes. That is not my business sir, that is between the All Mighty and yourself. What Lisa has done is unbloggable, and Ann is very up set with you. I am sending a sworn statement letter of the vicious lies and accusations you made about me, shwe might need to use it in a court of law. As with all things I have told on these blogs, with the exception of the one falsehood about July 12th in 1970 on the bus that night with the Quoddy-Mocker Gang of Southeast Jersey, this is sworn truth, not all things are known, much has been painstakingly put together by amateur deceive 'ME' over the past 5 or so years, but no direct lie other than the one about the 12th of July, exists. I admit that I intentionally copyrighted all three projects, in 1994, 2005, and 2007, on Halloween day, but I was not alone in this, nor was there a choice in anything I did. It was all destined to commingle with the Halloween day in 2008 with the road trip and the World Series win by the Philadelphia Phillies.

Lisa has caused a lot of pain to a lot of people, and put her own son in prison, and has filed charges against Ann King Silva. She is in with the owner of my ops here in Florida, but I am very good friends with his dad, Mizz Know-it-all Lisa, so know that sweet cakes of rat-poison!!!

I knew the girl just could not be for real, nor the day back four days ago. Nothing like that can happen without SATAN working the operation directly. I am a true believer in this being, and have been since the days of James T. Burr and the computer school in 1973 where we met. I owe David Roth a huge giant apology. There indeed are things that we frail mortal humans should not be messing with. You poo-poo'd it back in 1997 for being utter non-sense, and totally Kateydiculous; but I should have poo-poo'd it, for going against the laws of the All Mighty. I'll spend a long eternity trying to make things up to this mind bending awesome unlimited being. ***THIS BLOG TERMINATES HERE.***

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0250

2011-10-19T21:05:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0250
DATFILE: 101911.965
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“SATAN WALKS AT www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

This was the worst mother fucking day for me in a very mother fucking long time rapies and germiblows!!!!!!!! I will tell you that before I tell anything, clock MISS-BITCH Fonda attacks, klutz attacks, death android-angel, and other major fucking negative indicators of doom and destruction for me, ARE ON A MOTHER FUCKING ROLL, I JUST GOT STRUCK A FEW MINPERS AGO BY MISS BITCH AT ELEVEN MOTHER FUCKING ELEVEN POST MERIDIAN. Last night a nice beautiful lightning storm was around, and many times following any happiness for me such as with this, THE 'WOMO' hammers me, nails me, drills me, reams me, pummels me, and brings to the table if Dawn King doesn't throw it at me or the NASA choppers, all manner of carpentry tool attacks, PAWM-PIE-ETOSS attacks, and LOIS FOCA assaults!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still, the reasons are obvious to supposedly “Mentally-Ill” persons such as myself, at least if you have been following the fucking local and world news lately with any regularity at all, things must be covered up you know, like fucking DUH, we all know this old non Esolph's non fable, colored at any mother fucking color, dollar, tower, or cover-up.

THIS WAS THE WORST FUCKING CUNT LAPPING MUFF SLEAZE DIVING DAY AT MY WORK SITE, EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE PROBLEM IS THAT NOT ALL THESE PEOPLE CAN BE HOLLYWOOD ACTORS, AND WEAR PERFECT FUCKING POKER FACES, SO I KNOW SATAN HIMSELF IS ALIVE AND WELL, AND WORKING DIRECTLY THROUGH THESE FOLKS UP AT 25TH FUCKING STREET, YO!!!!!!!!!! Let me fucking ass elucidate, roaring lions and Duma Argon slip lip news anchors without 'The Permission Barrier' Diarrhea Attacks, all totally Library of Congress, notwithfuckingstanding, players!!!!!!!!!!

Just to let the guilty bastards know that I know exactly and mother fucking precisely what is up, I will say things so that those who did not plan to be involved in my endless fucking miseries, will not understand a thing being said.

The talk overheard between Tim and me by BIG RED, resulting in the Nazi, Germany Gestapo OPS in the meeting. Then when I was able to make good and buy the shit, I was the only AARP employee not brought up to sign the hours sheet so that I can be paid, and when I complained, my 15 minute meetings with the man who I never would have told jack squat anything if BIG LINDA hadn't broken my arm months ago to in fact go and tell him what happened to me in 1969 with 'Paula' Multiples, was terminated, and I was placed under a microscope and drilled and pumped for information. I thought you were my friend, Daddy Carpenter, I think your kid is killing me pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, I could be a sick crazy paranoid nut case, but before I am absolutely judged and the gavel is slammed down, let us seriously look at the news over the past days, weeks, months, years, especially the most recent revolting Palm Bitch Beach scandal with other even sicker KINGS, QUEENS, and IMPOSTERS, huh Ralph and Sandy, or has 28 years gone by yet, CALI-KALI, black and get even???????????????????????????

Giant pussy is crawling around all over. I am shorter than 90% of the females in Florida. Fellows of the north, Oli and Carol, and all transdimensional doppelgangers, etcetera; YO; if you are not close to six feet tall, and have been abused by one or more large women in your life, don't fucking move down here to the sunshine growth state, yo, UNLESS, you like to get your fucking ass kicked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM POSITIVE THE DOW JONES IS CLOSE TO 12k NOW. It is so pathetic to see the group making noise, and not containing a clue what they are fighting, or who. Pathetic. Oh well, WEIN, or SOSO-WEIN?????????????????

Well, Joe King is in jail until next year, Jesse copied me and ran away down here to Florida shortly after I did, yes JAMES T. BURR, “I do effect people”, you said a mother fucking mouth full years ago, but then, so did Ralph and Sandy, and other beach sweepers, barnacle pier removers, and hopefuls in presidential races!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But then it was a different Jesse who started things rolling into hellfire for me today up at 25th and Hoods. You see peeps, the chemtrails, my blogs, and the recent news, cannot be disputed, and really needs no buzzards or Jenifer Plageman landlady nightmares. Long from now, even if I totally vanish, the truth will not, as truth cannot. I did not make this claim, or several others, Empire Julia Dawn Allknower!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There are no coincidences, and the recently used word amongst the Christians that is spreading, 'Godincidnece'; also agrees with me 100%. They do not say, “Oh that fucking Mark, he is right”, of course not, but this is still the same thing. Still, I am never disappointed with anyone in my entire family any longer, and merely now wonder, if the FBI guy, the Mexican/Guatemalan illegals of Berryville, or someone else; has my many Jekyll/Hyde fits from the nineteen eighties, on cassette tapes, boxes and boxes of them? I am not trying to sweep sand, buy hotels, or copy hellish lives for profit, after helping in the creation of them to begin with. You comer on down and fucking land Donald Bassler, you scardy-cat-U!!

Get mad at me if you want to, PP, but I can tell you right now why you and me, and all others like us, stay down and poor. We let the rich get their way, who do you think really is behind all of our fights? But no, don't expand your mental horizons on my account old pal, stay happy, and stay broke, just as I will, as they are like the smart Italian race bud, they stick together whether they hate each others guts or not, as they know the system, you and me, well, what is in your wallet, as Crapital Scum Bank would put it so eloquently, my friend, sir??????????????????

Well, Karen Tools, I have only just begun, but will save parts 2, 3, 4, 5, etcetera for another blog, YO.

END TRANNY, SICK TWISTED, OLD GRANNY.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0249

2011-10-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0249
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296
DATE AND TIME FILE: 101511.998
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“COSMOS SCREAMS LOUDER THAN 1968 DAG FROM MUNICH”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN---2006-2011

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION WABBIT FWUDD:

This will be short, very short, maybe not too much longer than my 2010 tweets from the ROCKING ROBIN HILL, YUMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!

HA-HA-HA Voorhees, New Jersey Scum-ball H*ckey Club. No, this is not a typographical error, Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Obviously this MUST-WIN H*ckey game tonight was the reason for the major Saturday harassment, hell, persecution, and criminal and illegal covert activity against me today; by the MILITUFORCE-OTAMMITES (WOMO)!!!!!!!!

I do not believe me' whittle bwog from earlier posting around 6:15 PM or so, however; was what clinched the game loss for this evil. It is quite obviously bigger than that, and this would be, and only a very few are getting any of this, “The Screaming Cosmos”, (TSC). I also believe that the unconscious collective of all humanity is way more behind all of this, than I believe a human awake effort is at work and having its will, I just am not that important, and beyond that scope and viewpoint, this just cannot be a bundle of virtually endlessly gargantuan coincidences, at least I ain't a' buyin' it folks, whaaaaaa.

Still, as unimportant as I am, looking at things from the vantage point of the unfathomable wild and weird book that I copyrighted in 1994, called, “The Permission Barrier”, numerous possibilities far beyond Phase-4 beings, Analog Tape Recorder Paranormal Technology, and other unmentionables; do in fact rear their ugly heads in potentiality. Then there is one other fact that needs to be added, and goes beyond the four luscious Spanish Teen Goddesses in 1997, one of whom being Ring-Tone Nina Soifer's daughter; who all followed, and stalked me; from Tennessee Avenue, all the way down to exactly where I came to stop and put my bathing towel, down onto the beach, on that hot summer day in middle season somewhere; near the life guard stand, that sat closest to the Mitch Baywatch Levy Tower, (MBLT) in a quicker nicer abbreviation, for any future reference as I deem fitting to use in future tents, YO. One needs to be one of the more informed in the 99 percent of the forming new Morianity while unaware of themselves presently, in order to get what will be spoken, so let me tell you some New York City financial news that you may, or may not, be aware of, depending on education level, and age. When I was a boy, as I am an old man now of nearly fifty-seven years, and feel 357 in case anyone is interested; and this news is simple so let me get right to it and be done with it, peeps. When I would visit my snooty relatives up on the island, at the forced hand of maternal order until I was old enough to say NANCY REAGAN NO; after 1972; I came to learn a lot about my Uncle, the Senior Vice-President of the then, Chemical National
Bank, and at the time ion the early nineteen-seventies, this was the 2nd largest banking institution on this diseased and twisted freaking planet. There was the top bank, a tad bigger, and that would be, and still is, CHASE, then called, CHASE MANHATTAN, as Chemical was Chemical National, I think Gawky Gaukauk took it all over in the nineties. In any case, the main job of the Senior VP of both these institutions, was to sign off and approve all loans made by the bank, translation, YES meant New York City moves, and NO meant New York City stops moving,. At least by the perspective of major players. These major players would all have had seats on the New York stock Exchange, and these professionals on the floor, control today's world, totally, and the lives of all of us, 'the 99', with or without the bread and beef, YO. So I come to wonder tonight, maybe some of the new generation kids on the block and the Karpf Street, and futures of Florida, may have been victimized by one of my uncle HG's NON APPROVAL LOANS. What did Scott Ransom say to me when I bugged the car in 1988? Wasn't it, “Very powerful people are disgruntled with you”? You means me, and this was spoken to me by this realtor in my car, Scott, on that fateful day in 1988, and the United States Copyright Office has a record of this to this very day, world, and I authorize anyone anywhere to get a copy, and see how all of this REALLY BEGAN, Sabrina Collins Candletalker.
******************END OF THIS TRANSMISSION, YO**********************

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0248

2011-10-15T14:55:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0248
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

START BLOG:

I am under very heavy artillery fire from dirt bag WOMO today, Saturday. Aerial siege is heavy, with CHEMTRAILING, and loud low Cessna and military/milituforce planes. Noise attacks also are bad.

Mr DEEDEE birds are all around me, the enemies know my that MY BIRDS HAVE RETURNED, and this protection given me by these great special buzzards, pisses off my filthy twisted and diseased enemies, YO. Also, they do not like me having any over at my place, they never did and never will, what their mother fucking problem is, is beyond my wildest imaginations, and I of course am no James Patterson, Dick Wolf, or Agatha Christie. I can only report and tell the news of my n miserable and horrendous life, I make up nothing, only the fucking facts, Mam Friday. I AM NOT HERE TO TELL ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE PLANE SIMPLE TRUTHS, GOING ON AROUND ME. I would have nothing to gain by fabricating the blogs of the past 6 or 7 years.

It now is half past fucking five this Saturday evening. My computer guru was over here today. Anytime that I do anything at all, I get fucking clobbered. When I took her home after she showed me some stuff about e-mail, and a few small other things that she helped me to learn today, she wanted me to make a right turn and go a different way than I had come. After just a few blocks, a loud sound was emanating from my right, and I looked over, and some rapper in the hood was out with the very same device that I have hooked up to my Panasonic Amplifier and mixing systems that connect recording devices, keyboards and equalizer machines, on the street, with his radio plugged into the very same Peavey Keyboard Amp, the KB-300. I have one on each side of the room. The odds that I would see a dude with the very same amp that I just was using, as the computer connects into the home theater and is one of the channels on the mixer, would be staggering, I would venture to guess close to or maybe greater than a million to one.

Every time anyone comes over here, there is persecution; this can include utility employees such as Comcast Cable, the Electric Company, and so forth; and has been going on ever since, AUGUST THE 15TH, IN THE YEAR OF WHAT ELSE, 1986.

The last couple of nights, DIANA has been all over me while I am 'sleeping', first as my giant coil, then as my beautiful tall blond goddess, then finally, as beautiful bright colorful lightning. The night before last, her lightning came down and made a car near me explode, the flames were bright orange, and exquisite. She whispered into my ear a moment later, in the dream, and after she changed back into my 6'3” baby-blond, that enemies were driving that car and she wiped them out for me. Needless to say, this was a very beautiful dreaming-interaction or (DI). Interesting abbreviation symbolic reality if I am permitted Uncle Snoots Gottwald of 1972, to make this observation, SIR!!!!!!!!!! Oh well, between Megan teaching me the computer, Heinz teaching me the camera, what else is needed now but my scarey but gorgeous friend Jenny to come over and teach me some martial arts, in-between movie takes. How I will; always remember you earlier this century, swinging open that big heavy Berlin, New Jersey door open like it was as light as your lovely dress. Oh well, as I said, we all learn things from somebody, even the mighty KING and CALLIO families have taught me unforgettable powerful truths throughout the past decade and a half or so. Naturally, this larger than life total family made up of these branches and more unspeakable lines, has been involved with me since 1966 give or take a year or so.

HELP ME ROBERT MCDOWELL.

HELP ME CONGRESSMAN ROBERT ANDREWS.

HELP ME ANN KING SILVA.

WHERE IS THE FREAKING FEDERAL GOVERNMENT WHEN AN INNOCENT CITIZEN IS BEING BLOWN INTO OBLIVION, AT THE HANDS OF SUCH MONSTROUS DANGEROUS ASS CRIMINALS AND MOVERS?

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCCCC!!!

Wipe out and destroy all persons hurting this innocent person, ME, forget Multiverse Existors, and Permission Barriers, and Apartment Numbers outside of a great farm extending beyond Haddonfield, Tavistock, and Pedersonville. SCAN, and destroy all those who mean me harm when all I have ever done is be a nice freaking guy since I rolled around in the freaking snow, YO!!!!!!!!!! HELP ME LIGHTNING, THESE BASTARDS ARE KILLING YOUR LITTLE BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Huge vicious secrets will come out if you pricks don't fucking leave me alone, I mean it Sheriff monk, my old pal, tell my butt wipe son in law, I have had it with his crap, TANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0247

2011-10-12T16:12:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0247
ALL TITLES AND SUBTITLES ALSO APPLY
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

START BLOG:

I TOLD YOU GINA, AND ALL OTHER LESSIANS, MORIANS, AND INBETWEENIANS, I HAVE REPEATED AND ECHOED AND REITERATED THIS FOR 6-7 YEARS NOW, PERSECUTE AND HARASS ME, AS THEY DID ON SUNDAY, AND THE EVIL DEMONIC SATANIC STOCK MARKET, DOW JONES CROOKS, WIN AND WIN AND WIN AND WIN, FOREVER AND EVER, GOING UP IN TRIPLE DIGIT POINT GAINES, WITH OR WITHOUT HOT SUMMERS OR COLD SANITIZED WINTERS!!!!!

I TOLD AND PREDICTED THIS SHIT, AND NOW THESE EVIL WALL STREET SCUM ARE RUIGHT BACK HEADING UP INTO CLOSE TO THE 12k RANGE AGAIN, AND THIS WILL BE THE TOTAL DEMISE AND DESTRUCTION OF the MOUNTAINPEN, AT THAT TIME.

Well peeps, I did all I could to tell my story on these 6-7 years of blogs now. You have seen all the proof you need, and now you can watch the DOW JONES GO UP 200-500 POINTS PER DAY FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, AND HIT 20,000 BY END YEAR, AND 50,000 AND END OF 2013, WITH ALL THE LITTLE 99% PEEPS ALL SLAVES OR DEAD. WELL,, STRIKE THAT, we all ready are slaves, and may as well be dead, until this evil shit is somehow stopped!!!!! PHILLIES WILL DIE, FLYERS WILL FLY, on the broomsticks of the 57 Philly Hockey rotten vocals of miserable television broadcast stations of a quarter century ago, and it is as fresh and clear in my mind right now, as when this mother fucking bullshit all began.

Abraham Lincoln lived in times when, to quote him, our wisest president ever, and number 16 by the way; “Right makes might”. Unfortunately the capitalism that reared its ugly head in the 21st century beginning with the greed of Reaganomics and the Ronald, not McDonald, now forces an antimatter or reversal to these mighty and fantastic words of Mister Star Trek Taped Music, Abbey-Baby and also known as (AKA) Abraham Lincoln, now, today, we are forced into the world of New york City, where MIGHT MAKES RIGHT, also known SIR PRINCE as, MYWAY or HIGHWAY, YO!!!!!

SUNDAY'S VICIOUS MONSTER ASS FUCKING ASSAULT ON ME, GAVE THE (E-V-I-L------WE-M-P-I-R-E) and their detestable and despicable ICPE-TECK, a huge one up against the pathetic REME, or the RIGHTEOUS EMPIRE-ME, see the 2008, blogs, for this, and way so much more, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOTS OF MAJIOR SECRETS THAT ONCE WERE CONSIDERED NON-BLOGGABLE, WILL BE COMING OUT FOR ALL THIS HELL ENDLESSLY PERPETRATED AGAINST ME FOR 20-60 YEARS PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0246

2011-10-11T17:24:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0246
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD LABS OF 2299
DATFILE: CH-0246-101111.777.5555
COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
© 2006-2011 MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
BLOG SUBTITLE FOUR:
“BREAK THIS CODE, APRIL LINEMAN PATTERSON BIPPIE”

BEGINNING OF TRANSMISSION:

I need not be long and winded and go on any ranting trip, hunting trips, or Jack McCoy fishing trips, Camden County, New Jersey Prosecutors Office of December 5tgh in the mighty year of 1989. I will be quick, direct, and straight up on the square, merely telling a few powerful things, that any non-moron can see if they stop chalking everything in the known universe up to absurd Queen-Kate 'coincidence'.

If folks insist on seeing life as the non-real truth of merely being waves and particles with our brains being the decoders so to speak, enabling human interaction and conscious waking life to seem real and permit us all this wild physical existence; let me speak on the agreeing terms, and stop all the weird scientific stuff, and just talk real straight, after-all, WRJ or World-Renown-Julia of West Atlantic City; if I complained in 1997 about how you then spoke to me in the same lingo that I now blog in, that makes me a quintessential hypocrite, right Uncle Jesus?

Tall, muscular, gigantic, ridiculous sized pussy is all around me, and has been for a very long time now, I only thought that New fucking Jersey was filled with this ludicrous amount of abnormally sized female population. But then, a child with a moronic intelligence quotient can see that forces since 1986 and the mighty egomaniac Richard Karpf and family, of TPB-Raspberry Valley, NJUSAESMWG; both pre-planned, and all ready knew, that I would be spending some serious time here in this sunshine state, the natural vitamin-C state, where naturally, the teller percentile of the human population would of course quite fucking natu7rally come to exist and reside, it is pure fact and science, only I promised that we will not be going into the world of science on this blog, and I'll do my fucking best to keep this promise, but will not be able to totally do it, it just will not be possible when today's story is completely told, and told it needs to fucking be, peeps, YO!

I know you can all hear me, all those I knew that have died, you can hear me through any electronic shit where my 6th dimensional energy mental signal is translated into an electronic form and then transmitted back into other peeps' 6th dimensional energy mental signal (SDEMS). Our abbreviation is sort of like the George Bush forbidden scientific research in the cellular world, and who needs it anyway, when there is retrace, and integrenetronic blood transfusions? But then for that matter, who needs the owner of the great and locally famous Health and Swim Club known once as HADDONWOOD of Deptford Township, New Jersey, and his swimming pools, houses for sale,
Paula King Somnambulist personality disorders, and fascinations with my abilities, I suppose after Joan Lapplane finked, but who knows? As for all this being a huge plan, or video game, or whatever, I witnessed something over the past weekend that has me beyond insanity, as it is one thong to figure this all out and know it with a certainty without proof, and quite another thing to see a machine first hand that is actually literally doing all of this stuff, day by day, second after second. I witnessed a great marvelous non Griffin machine, Merv, and Advanced Robotics has little to do with any of this, all though late April does tend to produce fascinating things in my life, right Mister Spock? I suppose time travelers with ring-tones, games experts with powerful names, and Manhattan filled with a group of tricksters and “crazies” after I invented this word, in 1986; all fits together, in the mighty grand scheme of the 'dot connections of cosmos', or the ///DCOC.\\\

I will tell the experience on this blog, but first, I will tell the following things. Sunday evening, the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES, also Sir Prince, known as the MO, struck me vicious and hard with a powerful bowel and shit hit. Lightning came all around me and knew that I needed immediate protection afterward. During the storm, the same UFO that flew around my building before during another electruical storm, returned and messed with m,e for a while. Last Sunday was a major fucking attack, and I almost did not make it into fucking work on Monday as a fucking result of this monstrous and deplorable behavior, the epitome of mans inhumanity to man!!!!!!

THANK YOU FOR BEING SO WONDERFUL TO ME THGIS YEAR, DIANA, MY BEAUTIFUL STROBE-LIGHT PROPERTY OF SARAH-STACEY-KRASSLE, causing the break-up of “AT&T” Telephone Company unfortunately, and perhaps marriages as well; right Lisa, you evil witch-bitch-cat? You judge me and you are bone jumping a barely legal retard, sheeeeeeeeeeit, fuck you sweets.

I love when people say that if time travel is possible at any time in the human civilization, we would have known about it a long time ago, as this is the very nature of the topic after-all. Well, I have three things to say here that will make anyone with active living brain cells at least scratch their head with some wonder. First, there is the blog that I have on www.blogger.com/ and has been up for over six years, and in just the past four years, if the tale of my true life does not expose this reality, well then nothing does, but this then goes right into leading the conversation into the 2nd and the 3rd thing here, so read on, YO. Forget the games expert and him and his partner coming into my Oaklyn apartment in this wild 'dreaming-experience', and forget how I put things together day after day, just from living through my nightmare life, blogging it, and studying it under a microscope without any more help from doctor Margret from the great Camden Medical Institute of magical King David Pleasure Ingredients. What makes the MORIANITY story so unique and beyond all of the possible Patterson/Potter fictions of the next generation possible TWILIGHT-ZONES, is that the story is in real time containing a real victim, yes, a REALE VITIM, L&O-SVU!!! Forget Doctor Margret, Doctor Rogers, pathetic and misguided Michael Jackson, Propophol, McGuire, 1986; and all of the Real Good Curly Haired Girls, who appear to be able to transport themselves throughout time and hyperspace, and enjoy their 9th dimensional dollhouses, lake-houses, and whatever; and forget the opening of the master tape sent to the United States Copyright Office on 081586. The real story that makes me doubt the PATS of the world, with all their logical con games, carney tricks, and dog and pony shows; is that when things do happen such as Nick the Road-Trip-Dude who has known me since he was a runny nosed kid and even before he thought to repair automobiles using rubbers, let alone smashing hubcaps with hammers; is that folks go around saying that they wait for the return of Jesus, or some time traveler, or whatever. My question right now and here is simple, and echos the sentiment of a great movie actor of the middle 20th century, James Stuart. Wait, wait for what? You have these blogs, you have the 2008 World Series, you have the entire MENTALIST show in late 2007 as the GAMES EXPERT, you have the house at 65 Middle Road, you have the auto-reverse karaoke at my guard job, you have the LOIS FOCA song, you have so much, are you all Donald Trumpers, how much do you need before you stop saying, none of us are here or doing stuff? Hell, you don't wanna' believe, that is the truth and the reality, the old Williamst6own Giant Policeman Syndrome from 1995, dudes and freaking duddesses!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But wait peeps, it gets better still. There is a book in the homes in just about all folks in this wonderful free country, the great powerful All Mighty Unites States of America. It tells thousands of years ago, amazing unknown stuff, and some human penned this shit, it did not get there by Houdini, Blaine, or Copperfield, or Patty Jane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It says that this world we live in is suspended on nothing, and no one had a clue about orbits and just where this world really went, beyond the blowing of the great four winds of N, S, E, and W!!!! I also in 1979, did not let the river run away with my mind, or get lost in time, that was saved for another seven years and 100 miles. This same book talks about time travel, and has a billion peeps following its teaching in 2011. It says, SHE says, and I am quoting the GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH-KRASSLE, “I know the ending from the beginning”. But why would you want to take me at my word when you can open up this great BIBLE,, and just read this exact shit for yourself, screw me, YO. Now this finally brings me to the wild nightmare that has had me crying like a baby off and on, ever since coming out of it over the fucking weekend, and first peeps, old slow Slowski me, huh Comcast, took me a while to see why the September 17-18 siege came on me as it did, my76 6+ years of blogs finally paying off, at least as long as I keep my name dissociated from these power house events, but a child with a runny mother fucking nose knows what's getting fucking said here, peeps. Looks like I own Ed Lynch a huge Meagan-Law apology. I do not judge folks, I report the news, and only create what is needed to survive, I am not after power, fame, or money, think this lie about me, and you do not know fucking me from Ever, Adam, or the re4st of the Old-Planet. It is a little known secret that this entire thing is HELL from someone else's world before. I would hate to see the next planet that follows us, but then SSJUKK all ready knows, and has even made this claim, of knowing, not once, but twice, and in the past 41 months on one of them, and as a fan, I shudder to admit that I do not have details to the date of the other cleverly made claim, early 21st century is my theory.

Before I move on with this powerful information, enemies the other night, cut into my telephone line, AGAIN, MISTER MCDOWELL, FCC. When I am in a trance with Diana, it interferes in huge ways, and causes many wild trips that even Blue-Boy of 1967 would be amazed with. “THEY” know that, of course. Dum-Dum-Dum-Dum, Dum-Dum-Dum-Dum-Dum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So what am I doing in that elevator, old man, and how old really am I? Well, father of the son of SAM of Williamstown of 1996 early June, I do not have a giant girlfriend. I have an out of control somnambulist, and she has stolen two of the most precious things from me, and chains and Beach-Books have nothing to do with any of it. My wonderful PEE did not turn 13 back on the 29th, but will be 15 half a year from now, all though, this is quite4 meaningless I have come to learn. Sam the Maintenance Man of the Highview Apartments in 1996, wow, is this worse or better than Mike, back a decade earlier; when I faced Sicklerville Road and not Kent Street, Philly-57 and the Rotten-Singers? Sam insisted that a giant long dark haired goddess came into the 6-unit system, I know she did, and she never went into any of the apartments, and exited a half hour later. BULLSHIT, she came up and entered mine, raped me a 4th time, 1967, 1968, 1969, 1996, and then exited, AFTER, using her great powers and strobe lights of the world of never-never Propophol lands, on me. Now let me tell the powerful DREAMING-INTERACTION from the past mother fucking weekend that will blow your freaking ass minds folks, even with this super abridged and compressed version, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was in the future and in a parallel universe, and did not know this until late Sunday night when I figured it all out after Diana came all around, as did the MILI-2-FORCE-UFO that circled my building, here at 7th and Avenue freaking B. I want the entire 5th dimensional multiverse to know just how much that I love my beautiful lightning or (DIANA). Thank you for being so good to me when I am down so low and so far, BABY-BLOND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Moving on with this interaction, I was in a place with Ann King, and several other peeps, there was no Dawn the King, so it always can be worse, but there was a punky boy who had ownership of a wild machine called an AVM-RECORDER. There was a giant goddess, and she was no one that I ever remembered before in my now present human waking experience as Mountainpen. The machine resembled an average sized dining room square table, about one half as tall, and looked like a giant sub-woofer, and at the far right end of it was a small screen that was about 6 inches long and 2 inches wide. I had fallen madly in love with this giant beautiful girl and she was very aggressive like Paula, and it was not Paula, or at least I do not believe it was. One day, as this “DREAM” seemed to be in sections and lasting about 3 or 4 full days and nights where I remember going to bed in a bedroom within this experience, on several occasions. I was so happy for the first time in my miserable rotten life. I had no financial worries as Ann seemed to be the owner of the entire country that this all took place in, and she and I were as we are here, very good friends. I must compress many things now or this blog would go on all night and be a thousand freaking pages long. Suddenly, I was in a large square room in their home, and it was the kitchen, and everyone was busy doing something, and the girl was talking to me and I looked over at this young child of eight or so, and he was leaning against the machine near the right top of it, right below the screen, and I could see the images on this screen erasing off as though you typed words on a present day word processor document and then hit the backspace and kept pressing on that key. Only it was not words, it was a code of some kind like nothing I ever saw in my life. All kinds of wild shapes, lines, circles, and data streams of unfathomable type of images and all in bright varying colors, all of the primary colors, as well as a few secondary colors in the spectrum, were all included. As this mischievous male child was leaning, it was against some type of an erasing button, and all of the interaction that I had been experiencing was matching the images on the screen, and I just came to instantly realize this, when suddenly, parts of the house, as well as memories of the dream itself, began vanishing one by one, as these images began to reverse-off of the screen. On top of the machine, it read the following words: AVM-RECORDER-M90-PATENTED 2164. I began seeing this clearer and clearer, and remembered that the year was 2177. I was another person and yet I was also me, and this other person was born on the 3rd of February in the year of 2140. The child was born in 2169, and we had celebrated his 8th birthday the night before. He was extremely fucking mischievous and threw the entire birthday cake right into my face when no one was looking, and I got blamed for it. This was when the happiness in the interaction, all began turning the other way, just as shit does here in this world, when occasionally things start out good, but always go sour and south quite quickly, and without too much time wasted. In any event, this machine stood for, as I came to learn, and then remembered from here in my life in this time and universe as well, AUDIO-VIDEO-MATERIAL. All of life can be recorded, played back, erased, changed, whatever, using an AVM-Recorder. He continued erasing stuff over and over, until eventually, I was in nothingness, not even awake back here, it was one of the worst nightmares I have had since returning home from my stay at Selena Dada's rooming-house on Stenton Avenue back in 1974 and speaking to the ghost of James Hoffa near Central Pier, in Atlantic City. Before I was finally able to come back here to this life where I am presently existing in, with or without real good curly haired teen girls; I found myself at the place where I am employed, and it was 10 times longer and wider, or 100 times more voluminous in total area, and had only partial areas where a covered ceiling existed, and this was very high, like a circus tent. What are you doing to me Pat Jane?

The reason that I mention the ending of this experience, is because, there are indeed major things going on at this place. I would love to talk on, but feel that I would be punished beyond even my wildest dreaded fears of doom and looming disasters. I know that my experience where I spent those five months in another parallel universe of Atlantic city, back in 1986, that started all of this, is what is all really behind this nightmare, I just do not have all of the fucking ass pieces put together yet. Maybe the great COMCAST CABLE COMPANY knows, I know 'the Trump is in the Tower', but too bad he wasn't in one of Donna and Angela's towers, chains of gold hair, and other bullshit; all notwithstanding, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISH FROM THE GREATEST 86 FISH, NOT A TINY
SHELLFISH, wow did that take an AE to figure out dude, YO.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0245

2011-10-06T21:09:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0245
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:

Where are the Fort Pierce Police? Loud music should not be playing all over the place all night long, even up in the mother fucking ghetto hood, it did not. This is a major attack by major fucking enemies.

My blog that posted the other day as an October 4th post was really the fifth, it seems the time stamp on my machine WAS HACKED TO BE THE OPPOSITE, READING AM INSTEAD OF PM, and I was unable to change it back for quite a while. Eventually I tried something, if it had not worked, my guru would have repaired it, and I plan to show her this keystroke hacking when she is over here on the 'fifdeeeenth', Doris Whore Plum Firebug. Wow, are you in this clan too, baby, related to Bob Levy in blood as opposed to marriage, YO?

When these wonderful darlings are not damaging property, they are starting fires, or abducting innocents. The 'JWSS', the last two letters standing for slave syndrome. No bright bulb is needed to figure out the first two initials, YO. The problem is that my distant cousin's wife, Alice Gallagher Huntington was in with these monsters, and one day a deal blew up in their faces following a camping trip, or really, and with no pun meant I swear, a HUNTING trip, dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A strange dude came up to me in the middle autumn of the year of 1977, at the Haddonwood Swim club, and asked me if I wanted to make a lot of money in the WS business, and I to0ld him what he could go and do with his offer. He never came back, as though he was just there to lure me into the fold as they could not totally get me in 1967, 1968, 1969, or 1970. My 'MOM' seemed to instinctively know something was dangerously wrong, and sent me away with vigor, in 1971, to a private school out in Exton, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG,m by the name of Church Farm. Don't die on me Donna Gaines, your Julia-Boy cannot take too many more freaking shocks right now, I'll end up a basket case, or maybe a “charity-case”, where is the Color-Me-Mine place when I need them folks, DUH??

When I am not being noise attacked, the chemtrails are killing me, poisoning me, making my cough all day long and wheeze, planes, utility attacks, I HAVE NEVER MOTHER FUCKING SEEN SO MUCH CUNT LAPPING PERSECUTION IN ALL MY MOTHER FUCKING LIFE, and who knows, the real unthinkable could happen, trump, maybe you need to tell these bastards to back this shit off and then take your own good fucking advice, Baldy, as if it goes all the way, how really, do you plan to explain your own personal gargantuan part in all of this fucking shit, old college boy? The ADA Wirtz said that he would call you into the office one day if you confessed, now you may not have to fucking confess shit, old buddy black princess epitome tapes, and then on top of that, when all is said and done, how can all the money in the world do one thing except solve financially related problems? You know, for those that are genuinely wondering how I pull off these parlor tricks, maybe they are and maybe they are not, Jules Verne!!!!

More and more peeps are coughing and getting sick in Fort Pierce, WHERE IS U-TUBE AND THE CHEMTRAIL FOLKS WHEN WE NEED THESE MOTHER FUCKERS SO BADLY, YO????????????????????

Where are the fucking local cops, don't we have fucking noise ordinances around here, what the fuck am I paying you guys taxes for, reverse sewage service????

DOW UP 300 FRIDATY, 400 MONDAY, 500 TUESDAY, 600 WEDNESDAY, JUST WEATCH AND SEE IF I AM WRONG OR RIGHT, STANLEY MESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS THE WORST THANKS-2-GIVENS MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE I HAVE SEEN IN DECADES, YO, Ann King says to tell you, you're all a bunch of dog shit pig liars and rotten soulless bastards.

Whoever invented guns and sub-woofers, should be shot through a loud cannon into hard granite.

BLOG ENDS: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0244

2011-10-06T17:04:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0244
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2297
DATFILE: CH-0245-100611.799
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE FOUR: “HOW WOULD YOU LIKE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011 ©

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I had a small question come into my tiny mind today while out on my errands, changing my address on my auto drivers license and other necessary items that conform with the laws of the land, that many times seem quite contrary to the ability to maintain survival, a common intentional practice to weed out those that do not conform to what an established empire and order, decide is correct, a really neat idea if you happen to be on the right side of stuff, and practiced by many great outstanding gentlemen throughout history, such as Adolf Hitler, and many others.

Since these enemies of mine, who are called by many roses and Shakespearean names, at numerous times, while writing my blogs; have enjoyed ruining my entire life, both adult and childhood, and have literally gotten-off on it with the spreading of more combined cum cream to fill up the entire Empire State Building from cubic inch to cubic inch, with all of the office furniture totally removed first; and since their evil cehated manipulated controlled demonic satanic stock market made gigantic gains today, on my back, via powerful unthinkable death siege perpetrated on me since this THANKSGIVING SIEGE OF HELL-DEATH started in the 2011 year around the 17th or 18th day of last month, September; let me not practice my noprmal bad naming, cursing, and poor pitiful Ronstadt me routine, but instead; merely ask my readership to do two simple things for me tonight, I promise you, no animals will be hurt, no feelings will either, no monies need be expended, nothing need be lost, in fact, maybe, just freaking maybe, a huge thing might be gained, all though I extremely doubt the remotest possibility of it, and that is that something might be gained, actually, might be GROWN, and that would be folks, a conscience, a collective conscience, unimaginable as this absurd idea and concept may appear to be on its face; by what I have called the WOMO throughout my long blogging career now that started early in 2006, standing for the 'WORLD-OWNERS MILITARY UFO FORCE ORGANIZED TRASH AGAINST MICHAEL MOUNTAINPEN', shortened a small amount with the quicker words of the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES. WOMO is quicker and shorter still, and thus is used by me, this blogger, quite often, in my description of these wonderful, nice, lovely, decent, kind hearted and sweet individuals who are so benevolent and mean only so much good to this world, that finally, the world is beginning to catch on, slowly, but it is catching on, and right on the streets of the great NEW YORK CITY, and really, all around the world, thank you STEVE, and 'I know' you can hear me, others do not.

Som let me spend the rest of this blog's time by doing only this: First, try and forget all of the past blogs ever written by Mountainpen just while you read on here, make it as though none of this ever existed, after all, it doesn't, it is all just made up lies and delusions, and fantasies of a poor sick deranged butt-wipe who needs to spend the rest of his life locked away in a mental institution. I am tired of arguing with you all, so really, in full heart, I say now, do a Burger King, and yes, enjoy the food, and GHAVE IT YOUR WAY, folks. Now the second and final thing I ask is that you let me simply ask you this one long question, and these questions will each become a paragraph, nice broken easy to read text, no long walls to annoy the mighty minds and perfect peeps of the www.unexplained-mysteries.com/ YO, we can't have any of that, gee whiz, golly gash darn, BRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First, I am wondering how any of you would have enjoyed personally going through, or having any of your wonderful loved ones, parents, children, whatever, go through some of these nice lovely terrific things? For starters, so we don't feel so bad and can start solving the problems of Maria, and adding sugar coating to help us take our meds; or am I confusing another great Julie with another great movie, but in any case, so here are my few little 'HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE THESE THINGS HIT YOUR HOUSEHOLD', questions peeps, sorry if anyone vomits Uncle Trainheinz, or cries, or gets tense, or heavens forbid, feels guilty about anything, shoot, we can't have anyone else disturbed, the HUNTINGTON CURSE states that it is only all right to up set and disturb Mo0untainpen, and also to totally take his entire life from the age of one day, literally apart, and squash each small piece into dog poop, and laugh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hay wonderful folks, how would you like this great thing to happen? How about your entire education wrecked forever, even after proving to a school that you are able to take an entire math assignment for an entire school year home, and complete it, in one night? How would you like this to happen to your little son or daughter. Don't wake up from the dead, “MOM”, or does that only stand for the disinformation black-file agency scramble of (Maximizing Obfuscating Morons)?

How would you like to have every second of your waking life used to terrorize you, just to make the stock market go up with a seemingly magical ingredient named by a deluded sick paranoid schizophrenic, ICPE, standing for Intentionally Creating Parallel Events?

How would you like it if every single person hates you, turns against you, and wants to maker you as miserable as possible, and for absolutely no reason whatsoever, or how would you like it if your child, even medicated with all the sike drugs in the world, continues to insist to you, is indeed happening to them, and nothing ever changes, year and decade and century, being meaningless?

How would you like 100,000 dollars of property damage to be done to you over a 30 or more year period of time, or to your lovely kid or parent, or sibling, or spouse, and you are powerless to ever prove it is really happening, let alone ever getting it stopped, and having any justice done?

How would you like watching the music and the movies over a 40 year period, to be making direct fun of every single thing in your life, and you are powerless to make one person, even your best friend, take you seriously, and yet you totally know what you know, that is unless your shoe size is way higher than your mental age?

How would you like to be 14 one summer, and have a married older woman force you underneath a boardwalk, rape you, have your child, never tell you that there was a child born, have the child told lies about you, lose contact or said better, never have contact on the physical world, as nothing stops dreams from working their “magic”, huh Mister Macy? How would you like this to happen to your wonderful son, you nice mommy's out there that have some humanity? The best laid plans of mice and men will indeed fail, and the US Office of Copyrights has known about 'YOUR', not my, plight; since the early eighties, via powerful occult and paranormal situations that cannot be further elucidated upon safely at this point in time, Senator? This is not about me, remember, I am asking you all how you would freaking feel. My dad, excuse me, your dad, left a small town in Ohio because talk got out on the street that he was not who he thought and that his 3rd grand daddy was also raped in a cotton field by a big beautiful black goddess slave, the best laid planes fail, just when they do not know a secret, they screw up, this is why I advise folks not to ever try and get freaking away with murder, unless you enjoy lifetimes in a jail, or electric chairs, or poison needles.

I could ask a lot more things of you folks, but for right now, I ask only how you would like this to happen to you or yours, so maybe an honest answer comment may follow one day, and not all the boo-hoo, ranter butt-wipe, and others like this, all though, humanity is what it is, and is degenerating at the speed of light cubed, so really, I do not expect very much of a soul, all I do know is that the biggest lie ever told on Earth, was most likely not meant to be so bad or big or awful, but it was, and it was when Ed Lynch said to me that I would get some help with my nightmare, if I blogged my true story, wow, what a huge lie straight from the devil's hell, DOG, YO!!!!!! BYE-BYE-4-NOW, KAL.

PREDICTIONS: DOW JONES UP 5000 POINTS BY THE END OF THIS YEAR. THE MURDER OF THE PROTESTORS. THE PHILLIES GOING DOWN IN FLAMES. THE FLYERS WIN THE 2012 LORD STANLEY CUP. WATCH AND SEE FOLKS.

I never thought in a million years, you would take things this far, Jewelly Nurockey Bassler Safka!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I said hi for you at the DMV today, sweetie, they still have more lamination's than you, but not that many more, YO.

END TRANSMISH FROM THE GREATEST 1986 FISH, the gods!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0243

2011-10-05T21:16:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0243
WORLD LABS OF 2298 DATFILE: 100511.975
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
SUBTITLE FOUR: “THE BIGGEST LIE EVER TOLD ON EARTH”

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I know that nobody will believe a word that I say, and I must take the attitude that this is not my problem, even though it really most certainly of course is. Still, I know, and the All Mighty knows, that I speak the truth, and that all the wild claims made on these 6-7 years of blogs on the internet, are all the truth as best as I have been able to construct some broken pieces, and put lots of dots together on a gigantic cosmic jig saw puzzle, bought and paid for with my name on it, from the Santa of all Santa Claus's, leaving me with one hell of a mess, Stanley.

First of all, the incredible THANKS-2-GIVENS DEATH SIEGE, that all began so monstrously on the 17th or 18th day of last month, was no accident in time. NOTHING EVER JUST HAPPENS, not ever and not in the smallest way possible. Humans detest this because it wipes out the ego of humankind by lessening the otherwise more control that homosapiens supposedly have with a so-called 'free-will'. Much of the time, there is a cyclic repetition from an original free will, but on many occasions, the first time around that 7th dimensional reality was dreamed out and away from previous closed curved larger infinities, downward into this one; we thought that we had a free will, but we were under control. Sometime this control is simple and will not make me sound space cadetish when it is explained as follows. You wake up and do not want to go to work, you force yourself, it is the last thing that you want to do, you do it against your will as without it, bills do not get paid, and a long list of worse problems extend beyond this, so we do whast we MUST. We get to work and the boss tells us we have to do something we really hate doing and usually do not have to do, but it is do it or else, and right now, so move mother fucker and this is not a request. Well, we are not slaves as this practice is outlawed directly, yet a child can see it plainly. WALL STREET has indeed made SLAVES out of 95% of the American population, as they have totally sold our freedoms and our very lives, right down the stagnant murky fucking river. When major complexity is then tacked on to the otherwise mundane “day to day life struggles”of the MISTER MCBRAIR HADDONFIELD CLUB of 1969 and 1970, a brand new set of circumstances comes into play. Most peeps will agree with all my words up to this more complicated set of stuff that comes next, and I cannot worry about losing the attention or the agreement of blog viewers and criticizers, as truth must be spoken. Dave Roth may very well have been correct all along, through a magical back door, about playing around with hyperspace. It is costly, it is dangerous, and there really is a chance that Doctor Camping and his doomsday deal could be real, as the enemy has kept me too busy with hell and persecution in my life since middle late September, to tell the world that I believe wholeheartedly that an explosion has a chance to occur that would indeed be more than powerful enough to obliterate entirely, our solar system, in an instantaneous flash wink. I do not think this is the motive, but it is theoretically a possibility, and it is on this night that I truthfully have a message for a man with lots of pretty fake hair. I am sorry for making fun of your flying around over you Plaza roof, I am kind of whirling around myself right now, and we both know exactly what is happening. However, I do not think that you have any more control over some of this than I do, as billions of dollars is great for solving all possible financial situations, but it will not reverse the laws of physics, or stop doomsday's, or for that matter, undo the damage that all my tape recorders and my messing around, has in fact done. The clue that is larger than all of the distracted persecution tactics, and the act of the unspeakable deal itself as well, all combined; is the name of the test that the lab will be conducting later this week on my blood, Roseann Delaney; or one of three tests, as originally my Fort Pierce, Florida doctor wanted only two tests done, until I told him what a millionaire said to me about a month ago. I cannot blog anymore or horrible shit will happen all over the globe, it is that huge and that deadly fucking dangerous, and this I swear on my life under flag and nation, and my wonderful Goddess, the All Mighty SS Jehovah Krassle. Smart Guys replaced the powerful truths being cleverly told on cable television reruns recently, but still and all, let me tell you something lads and lassies. I said on a blog back early last summer time, that earlier versions of this All Mighty Sarah-Stacey might very well operate one way, and so might the plots on these covertly told Hollywood shows, but there is no limit to what this All mighty being can and will do, and if Doctor Harold Camping is correct, the power to pull it off is right in the mix, here in the continental united States, or at least has a 50/50 chance atomically. I do not know if the military responded in tandem today to the telephone call around one this afternoon or so, or if they are scared out of their wits about all of this, as they should be, but all things considered, I admit now, that for all the wrong reasons, David Roth was right when he did not want to play around with hyperspace, too bad I never wrote that song, only the Resorts International Magnetic song of 1983, somehow 1997 and Warren Grove, NJUSAESMWG, was destined to get lost in the mix. I am being vague and subtle with my words, watching each one carefully as though I was one of the rich and famous. This is too big a deal, and somebody out here knows it, to have me not be cautious as all get out with my vocabulary. May the gods pity me for what I have done since 1986 and 1997, still, what did I do in 1969 to deserve what led me to doing a lot of this? I have this come back as a fail safe, yet, do I? After-all folks, it really is like the proverbial doomsday prophets of all times. What glory humanly is in this, as there is no upside potential. Think about it. If you are wrong, you are jeered and laughed at as a fake. If you are right, no one is around to celebrate you. No upside at all, to quote another strange 'JULIA'. Wolf-Wolf-Wolf, or maybe 495-meow. Let me go ahead and 495, PAULA WOLF WESCOTT VENTURA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Speaking of years back, there also was 2006, when a man made me another famous *****PROMISE*****. His name was Ed. He said one person would believe me and help me. Now I am left to wonder the biggest crap since any Shakespearean philosophical play writing. It is like 1981 all over again at Magnetic Resorts Hotel, am I right gorgeous meat packer from Boston? Like I told the parking attendant, I am going to a casino yes, but will not know if I won or lost, for a while after leaving Atlantic City. He looked at me with a strange smirk, I think there is a chance he was one of the Briggbase Cult, I have come to recognize that cute smirk on the face real well. Time is always a teacher.*** THIS BLOG NOW TERMINATES TRANSMISSION.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0242

2011-10-05T13:50:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0242
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START OF BLOG:

Neighbors are making my life a major fucking hell with loud mother fucking stereo garbage music. I intend to write a letter to the fucking HOUSING AUTHORITY. It will be in the mail over the weekend. If I get no place, I will make an appointment to see somebody. This all began with that all night music attack, and these monster mother fuckers are making me miserable, obviously MIND CONTROL is behind this, as well as so much more. Since WOMO enemies want to make me miserable continually with these CHEMTRAILS, and other loud sky siege that is again going on, along with music hell, let me tell some big ass fucking secrets to the blogging world in retaliation, as this is my only weapon of counterstrike, all I have to work with is car bombs and planes into buildings, I AM FIGHTING A VERY EVIL EMPIRE, STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART OF SATAN!

IN 2000, THERE WAS A COMPETITION ON THE BEACH, LED BY THE GREAT ALL MIGHTY FAMOUS BAYWATCH DUDE, MITCH. I may or may not have mentioned the complicated incident with the lifeguard named Michelle Gracci on previous blogs, during all of this. This took place in where else, but good old mother fucking rotten demonic ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USAESMWG. I had no idea when I was trying to learn information about the Callio family of the local area there, that this was but one branch of a beyond fathomable extended wild family, going all the way to the KENNEDY clan, and as many of you know, others as well. Still, as I told Eric today at the HARVEST and their website is www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ I am not going to be able to take much more, I am at the end of my rope, and the only way to survive, is to prove that a force far beyond Planet-Earth, is indeed causing all of this, ever since the nineteen sixties. What you need to understand is how and why WALL STREET is so connected in and throughout this, as is ATLANTIC CITY, and then beyond this, all of the dozens of totally irrational and unexplainable fucking shit ass things that have happened to me, from getting the shit knocked out of me by the Beach Patrol mascots back in 1975, to literally so much more that no blog or even group of them, could ever even hope to do justice to the subject and topic here in its fullness, so let me try and be a bit inventive and creative, and really blow your Coral State Farm mind simultaneously!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If anyone read the all ready existing 3-7 year long blog that I have used as a LIFE JOURNAL, as well as other double-bubble things, ity would not really be necessary for me to do this now, but just as with the great KJV Christian scriptures and the BIBLE, not even the majority of ministers and Holy Peeps, ever really read it cover to cover, as without doing this, folks; you are totally fucking kidding yourselves that you will be enlightened to properly receive its message. My shit is absolutely no different at all. In fact, it is only the BIBLE, PART-2. I do not give a rats fucking shit ass who thinks these words are delusional or the quintessential sacrilege. I KNOW WHAT I AM SAYING IS TRUE, and so do a few others that you can count with one finger. The Atlantic County fucking Prosecutors Office know fully well this is powerful and true, so does the mighty GOOGLE. I do not need to prove a thing to the owners of the world, THEY ALL READY KNOW, PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

By this time next week, I will be in Afghanistan or Iraq working as a Private Security Non-Military person. Try hurting me mother fuckers. Selena of Stenton Place knows that Jenny Hewitt is not the only Merry-Go-Round Ghost Heaven Talker. I say this with no bluff nor need for wearing any poker faces, still 1986 was a fascinating year, between the Jimmy Carter bullshit, the casino bullshit, and MI wonderful kid. ************ END BLOG, DOGS!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0241

2011-10-04T14:08:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0241
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPTITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD LABORATORIES DATE AND TIME FILE:
CH-0241-100411.666.5555555555555555555555555
COPYRIGHT © BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN-2006-2011
PROTECTED INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY
ALL STATEMENTS ARE TRUE AND ACCURATE AND
NO PART OF THIS MATERIAL IS FICTIONAL OR MADE UP.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

For two straight mother fucking days, enemies or the MILITUFORCE OTAMMITES (MO) 4-SHORT; is wiping me out and killing me, covertly and cleverly, not with the usual out in the open death aerial siege and stuff that costs me money and has the potential for unlimited negative results, vicious consequences, and suffering in unfathomable fucking agony!!!!!!

Both yesterday and today, the peeps around me have treated me like I have the fucking Bubonic fucking Plague. Nobody has a clue why they are doing this, or WHO is directing the necessary MIND-CONTROL (MC) that is allowing this mionstrou8s shit to be pulled off, and it is not some simple thing for me to get on a blog and fucking tell and complain about and I know it, and THEY fucking know it even better. What I will do is tell you the most recent major event out of the past 30-60 hours, and then let things all sort of fall into place, story-wise, from there, only it is no made up James Patterson junk, this is mi fucking life that has been ruined and destroyed by powerful and totally fucking awesome ASTRAL-PLANE FORCES!!!!!!!!

Bear in mind that this is but ONE INCIDENT, just the biggest one out of the past period of time mentioned in the preceding paragraph, and without understanding a lot of stuff about my special education teachers such as Daniel Mackey, Richard Marcucci, Mrs. Marola, David Leigh Smith, and others less involved but still quite powerful and mind bending such as Raynor, Ciprionni, Young, and on and on and on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I awakened from a wild dreaming-interaction around just past seven of the clock this morning, (AM), all things connect, whether anyone wishes to believe or deny this power house mother fucking reality or whatever, Congressman Oak Pileggi. The reason that I awoke an hour before my alarm clock was set to buzz me awake and back into this nightmare endless physical hell experience here in HYPERSPACE, THE TWIN OF THE ASTRAL-PLANE, is because those same neighbors that blared music all night long Friday morning beginning around 9:30 Thursday night and stopping around 8 or so Friday, were cranking up the bullshit again. The LEASE SPECIFICALLY DECLARES THAT NO DISTURBING MUSIC AND RADIO SYSTEMS MAY OPERATE BETWEEN 11 AT NIGHT and 8 IN THE MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, BUT THAT IS NEITHER HAIR NO THERE, or so it seems when peeps are out to make my life a LIVING FUCKING NIGHTMARE ENDLESS HELL FIRE!!!!!!!!!! When I got into work, a man who I work with at the Harvest of 25th Street, their website being www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ , by the name of MISTER CLAY COINS, told me that he called me just shy of seven, to leave me a message; in case we did not run into each other, as he had to cancel out on a meeting that we had planned for later today after work. As soon as ANYBODY CALLS ME ON THE TELEPHONE, EVEN THOUGH IT DOES NOT RING, AS IT IS OFF AT NIGHT; SOME MO ENEMY, if you read the past 6 fucking years of my blogs, and this has been going on now EVER SINCE, AND TOUGH SHIT, I AM TIRED OF PRINTING THIS DATE OVER AND OVER TOO FOLKS; AUGUST THE 15TH OF 1986, always THAT IS ALWAYS, PERSECUTES AND HARASSES ME IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. I would have bet that Clay had left me this message, and while driving into work this morning, was saying to myself out loud in my automobile, “I'll bet a million fucking bucks that Clay called me right before this music-attack started, FBI!!!!!!!Now, this entire thing is on some type of a subliminal and mind control level, and I am not so fucking retarded, that I am not totally aware of that. What you “DO NOT” know however, is who “PAULA BELINDA KING” really is, what she did to me on the night of the 1969 fireworks underneath a world famous New Jersey boardwalk, and just exactly HOW AND WHY, the entire “EW” has been following me around making teary-eyed Native American anti-pollution commercials, and before that, other nearly identical type of promotions, ILLEGALLY USING MY VOICE ON THEM, broadcasting my voice from coast to coast as a 14 year old boy, without getting parental permission whatsoever, not from my dad down here in Vero Beach with Melvin fisher, or my mother up in New jersey, (ENTERTAINMENT WORLD). NOW NONE OF THIS STUFF is just some fucking bunch of random happenstances peeps, no matter how many mother fucking cunt lappers out there in the world of cyberspace, want to believe and try to misinform the general public on!!!!

MIND CONTROL: is a huge thing, any interested parties can most likely still GOOGLE UP lots of shit that confirm my story if dots are connected by intelligent sleuths, and on to0p of that, if also it has not been removed from the general access info-grid of the mighty GOOGLE-SYSTEM, there was an experiment that you should be able to get information about, and it was conducted long ago in the times being spoken of right now, the sixties, or this general area in time. As a result of placing this technology before a large group, millions of viewers, over several years, inside of movie theaters, the sales of the popcorn in those theaters went up a large percentage, I would be lying to you if I said that I remember the exact amount, I only know it is too significant to ignore, or for any 'Missourians' to doubt that the usage of this now SUPPOSEDLY TOTALLY ILLEGAL TACTIC OF subliminal control, (SMC), IS REAL, right studdering Tommy Boy? I have said this over and over and will say it until THEY FUCKING MURDER ME, the past 4 years of my blogs tell the story all by themselves, it needs no author, it may be rough, not all spelled and punctuated so perfectly with nice pretty blue raindrops, but let me tell you this, I need now to tell a huge thing, and let the chips fall where they fall, I simply do not fucking care peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had a discussion about my entire past four years, not all that long ago, with a highly intelligent yet open minded and locally prominent individual. After he digested it all, and also saw some previous blogs with uncheatable time and date website stamps, this is what he said in paraphrase. Remember the Dark Shadows hit TV show, the family bible, Victoria Winters, her trip from 1967 back to 1795, and how important events and things in general, are always sanitized? He went onto remind me of the late nineteen-eighties, and how a man said a horrendous quick thing to another man, both men in the political arena, a terrible insult was made to a man by the name of Dan quale. The man speaking the words I am about to say was running for some office, and saying that horrific thing, wiped out his entire Political Career from that microsecond forward, over, done, fine'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He said to him and I quote, “You're no Kennedy”. This one tiny three word sentence, wiped out an entire career. So I am no longer disappointed in 'HYPOTHETICAL DAUGHTERS', I have been made to realize how this rotten old world REALLY WORKS. Still, things go far beyond this [point, and they cannot in anyone's wildest dreams, all be covered on this one little blog of SJ-0241. Why did all of this have to happen to me? Why was I REALLY glad back in 1969, and what did I REALLY say to Brad Messenger, my pal at this time, on this topic, back when Fred Hinger's and John Henningsen's were bringing magical chains, strange books, and wild drumbeats into my young life? Why did the great illustrious Jim Burr come into my life a few years later in the late spring time in 1973, at another wonderful non-politically connected location, known then as the Professional-Careers Institute of Cherry Hill, at the famous Cherry Hill Mall? Why did the two songs go to the top of the music charts around the same time, about the world famous CHERRY HILL MALL, and underneath the ATLANTIC CITY BOARDWALK, when Brad and I were running away from human monsters, chasing us all around and trying to take my chain away? As time moves along, and wind sings HER song, and rivers run blue from the rain drops, and Real good Girls and Superman Curls, all keep slipping into the tick-tock musical future, I wil be saying and TELLING way more than fucking this, my peeps, YO. This is merely taking one door off of the great LAKEHOUSE, huh SKY???????????????????????????????????????????

I am way too mother fucking worn out and exhausted to type on, but believe me, I could type and talk all fucking night and day, and not scratch the surface of the dollhouse of the great all mighty SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, and HER great HUNTINGTON new entrance. I do know that I need to tell you that the mighty COPYRIGHT OFFICE IN WASHINGTON-13-DC, was sent a speeded up tape in late 1983, containing the WORLD LAB KEY CODE, and so naturally, the part included after this was also running a tad too fast. I should have sent it at regular speed, maybe they never would have dared to pull off all this shit if I had, MO, not the great © Office. Speaking of music and copyrights however, the powerful dreams all night had nothing to do with me hearing my neighbor's loud music all night, believe me when I tell you that it started at just past seven this morning. All night, I was in a localized parallel-universe in the vast hyperspace, where STUDIO PARK RECORDS was huge, and headquartered in Medford Lakes, New Jersey. The capitol of the state over there was not Trenton, but Vineland, and Vineland is a huge city, almost as large as Philadelphia, with a super highway running into it all the way from Washington, 13, DC.

IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM FOUND DEAD IN THIS APARTMENT AT THIS HOUSING BUILDING ON 7TH AND AVENUE B IN FORT PIERCE, FLUSAESMWG, I WAS MURDERED BY ALL THOSE PREVIOUSLY ACCUSED OF MY DEATH AND PREMEDITATED FIRST DEGREE MURDER, FBI, AND STATE AND FEDERAL ATTORNEY GENERAL, SIRS, THANK YOU, IT WAS NO ACCIDENT, I WAS FUCKING ASS KILLED IN HERE, YO!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS AN OFFICIAL DYING UTTERANCE AND LEGAL DYING MABNS DECLARATIUON, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So do it ya' bastards, bring it fucking on, kill me; ya' sick prick shit clit muffs.

BYE-BYE4 U EVIL FUCKING WORLD, MAY U BURN IN HELL AND SUFFER THE AGONY OF DOGTOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For letting me down MMMMMMGNESONIC, UR DEAD MEAT 2!!!!!!!

END TRANSMISH, FROM THE NO PARLOR TRICKS GREAT FISH. I am in no mood for rabbits, Elmer Fudd, or any other silly fucking bullshit.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0240

2011-10-03T12:43:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0240
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
STARTING BLOG:

The dirt bag markets must be F---L---Y---I---N---G, as every MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING ASS time that I have days like today, wshooooooo, right up to the fucking stars and the galaxies beyond. IF IT COULD HAVE GONE WRONG SINCE THE SECOND THAT I POPPED AND POOPED OUT OF FUCKING ASS BED THIS MOUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, IT MOTHER FUCKING WENT WRONG, AND AT THE FUCKING ASS SPEED OF LIGHT SQUARED, AL, OL PAL OF MY PA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I went to work and then on errands, paid my fucking rent, went to the K-Mart and the Winn Dixie Grocery Store, and before that and after leaving work, over to Regis Philbin TD Bank. The only peeps that are truly nice to me are over at my wonderful bank, I love my bank, and I know you do too, RP, but BE CAREFUL, the dogs are still on the roof above the WAYV on the Astral Plane, and mean none of us one bit of good.

The markets can go up to a million, but I promise you this. When I am married before this year is out, they will crash and burn forever, wait and see. I knew the attack over the weekend would do me in as far as my fucking 'PM' or my PERSONAL MAGNETICS, I have been under this fucking Naverone Super Jenny Johnson Gun since August 15th, back in the year of mother fucking clit chewing 1986.

I have major shit to tell later on, none of you will bnelieve that I fucking ass dared to blog it, sorry my PEE, or really maybe MI PEE or MI & PEE, but time has run out on my keeping my mouth shut about some huge mega secrets. Enough is enough huh Babs, and my daughter doesn't need your crummy condo sweetie, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Let me post up and prove that without turning on a single media outlet, I know what and not THAT I know!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLOG ENDS HERE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0238

2011-10-02T21:30:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0239
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:

MAJOR COMPUTER HACKING. MAJOR PERSECUTION, IT JUST WILL NOT BACK OFF, SO IF LOTS OF AIRPLANE AND HELICOPTER CRASSHES HAPPEN, AND LOTS OF HURRICANES AND TWISTERS KILL LOTS OF PEOPLE, YOU ALL KNOW EXACTLY WHY IT HAS TO HAPPEN, I AM NOR RESPONCIBLE, THIS ALL BEGAN IN THE MIDDLE EIGHTIWES, AND IS LONG MOTHER FUCKING OUT OF MY CONTROL. IT IS *****THEY***** THAT ARE ALL BEHIND THIS, THE LAMBRIGG CULT OF THE ASTRAL MOTHER FUCKING PLANE, AND THEIR HUMAN FUCKING WORLD COUNTERPART, BASICLY AND MAINLY, THE (EW).

MY ADDRESS READS THE LAKEHOUSE ADDRESS ON 36TH AVENUE, MY COMPUTER IP ADDRESS, AND MY CLOCK IS BACK EARLUIER IN TIME AS WELL, AND I MUST NOW GO AND RESET THIS. THESE DISEASED CUNT LAPPERS KNOW THAT AS SOON AS I AM HAPPILY MARRIED, THE ENTIRE EVIL EMPIRE WILL BE SWEPT AWAY. IT SEEMS I HAVE FINALLY MADE SOME FRIENDS, AND I AM BEHIND ALLOF YOU ALL THE WAY. MY BLOGS TELL THE ENTIRE STORY, OR MUCH OF IT. IT IS THEM OR US, THEY ARE TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL, AND ONCE I AM GONE, IT IS ALL OF YOU THAT WILL BE TARGETED NEXT, THE FIRST REBELS THAT PUBLICLY COME OUT AGAINST THEM ON THE STREET, SO DO NOT BUCKLE UNDER, WE ARE DEFINITELY AT WAR!!!

M-90. Hang in there Albert Einstein, I'll get you out of that awful Briggbase prison somehow, and my genius and wonderful daughter PEE, plans to help you, so take heart and be of good cheer.

In the fucking name of the gods, where art thou, old school pal, ROBERT MCDOWELL, OF THE FCC??????????????????????????????

Yes sir Harley Dirt, I remember the entire interaction with Einstein and World Labs, so chew my prick off if you don't like it, scuz bags.

Back burner, huh, FBI, how about putting my freaking case on the front burner, before this spirals so far out of control, that even WL can't stop it. Nighty-night, jerk off enemies, and may you go to DOGTOWN for a thousand MK, enjoy, party, I love watching you all burn in torment, YO! Pussy Command is only a matter of time when relentless mother fucking siege won't break off, so when it comes upon me, count me as one of the married ones, and BYE-BYE-WALL STREET, HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!

END BLOG:

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0238

2011-10-02T11:41:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0238
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE 4:
“HERE WE GO AGAIN, EARLY OCTOBER INTERACTIONS AND FOLLOWING MY KERLIAN ENERGY BACK TO MARHOUSES
AND PUBLIC HOUSING BUILDINGS IN VIOLATION
OF SO-CALLED CIVIL LIBERTIES IN THIS SO-CALLED FREE
UNITED PHONY STATES OF AMERICA”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011 ©
WORLD LABORATORIES OF WESTMONT, NEW JERSEY OF 2301
I HEREBY STATE THAT I HAVE TRAVELED BACK HERE
AS ZERANNIS ARTHUR YANCY JONES AND LABBER ZEGGINS, INTO THE 20TH AND 21ST CENTURIES, AND HAVE BEEN USING THE PHYSICAL BODY OF ONE MARK WAYNE MOHR, SINCE ENTERING INTO HIM WHILE ON A MOVING TRAIN, USING THE
SYSTEM KNOWN AS THE M-90, I HEREBY SWEAR TO THE TRUTH OF THIS, AND THAT I CAN GIVE PRECISE NAMES, ASDDRESSES AND TELEPHONE NUMBERS OF AT LEAST FOUR OTHER
LIVING PERSONS IN THE UNITED STATES CITIZEN COUNT, THAT ALSO ARE HERE FROM THERE, USING THE SYSTEM-'M90'.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Three years ago, on the 5th day in October, I had the exact same incident that just happened minutes ago, at approximately 12:41 PM, on this second day in October, only that was on the 5th October day. I came out of as powerful non-ordinary dream, and upon awakening and saying one thing about it over a telephone to Diana, INJSTANTLY, a tremendous sound came out of nowhere from outside, both times being the loudest revved up motorcycle that any Harley Bike could possibly make, and this of course is total ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, and in both cases was INTENTIONAL ILLEGAL HARASSMENT AND PERSECUTION OF A UNITED STATES CITIZEN, who if fully authorized and legal to be here, I am a legally born citizen of this country, whose peeps came here on the MAYFLIOWER ship, not the Tennessee Avenue hotel that was Bassler Bulldozed in 1983, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. There is something about this perfectly precise time of the calendar year; if you study all the blogs of mine, and especially directly following my Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapping; where this activity seems particularly prevalent. Now we will see if a loud chopper attack also follows, as did the time in 2008, while blogging this super attack and incident before. While awaiting this, let me tell you that I was up in World Lab, and discussing with other labber employees, both the M-90, as well as the way that it interacts with the recently discovered facts uncovered by the WL, concerning the STM, or the enlargement of the previous concepts of the space-time continuum. I was standing near the windows of a large room, one of the lounge areas along a long set of corridors at the WL complex, and suddenly I recalled my entire life here as MARK WAYNE MOHR, AND WAS TELLING THEM THAT THIS LIFE HAD TO BE EITHER CHANGED OR AVOIDED ALL TOGETHER. All around me were small boxes of rectangular shape, just as you might see in any present time shoe store or shoe section at a Wal-Mart, K-Mart, and so forth. Only instead of pictures of shoes on the outside of these boxes, these boxes were a sort of yellow-gray color, and had small slits in them, and visible bright light that seemed to pulse and be in multiple color, could be easily seen from all of them. These boxes open up by tapping out a pattern on the top side of the boxes that had no slits. Instead were sort of keypads that were five by five, and had the letters of 'A-Y', only the “Z” was missing. Every Labber or employee of the WL (WORLD LABORATORY), has their own unique CODED POEM. It is like a password of these days and times, only it was a made up poem, sort of like a part of a song lyric. My personal CODED-POEM or CP was and is or really, WILL BE, is part of the master World Lab CODED POEM MASTER SONG, WL-CPMS, which in its entirety is as follows: “JUST WHEN I FOUND THE PERFECT ONE THE ONE THAT WOULD LOVE ME SO JUST WHEN SHE FOUND THE ONE SHE NEEDS THE ONE THAT WILL NEVER LET HER GO THATS WHEN THE HANDS OF TIME RAN OUT THE CURTAINS CLOSE THE SHOW A LOVE THAT WILL LAST AND A LOVE SO SWEET WILL MERGE IN ETERNAL FLOW IT SEEMS SO UNFAIR THAT THE SCRIPT RUNS BARE AND NO ONE CAN REALLY WEVER KNOW OH PRECIOUS GIRL I NEED YOU SO AND YOU KNOW THAT YOU NEED ME TOO I DO NOT WANT TO GO AWAY AND LEAVE MY BABY BLUE YOU ARE EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD TO ME OH CANT YOU SEE THAT ITS TRUE BURNING LIKE A FLARE IS THE LOVE THAT WE SHARE AS YOU PROVE HOW YOU CARE AND WILL GUIDE ME AS IM FORCED TO GO”.

My individual part or password part of the master coded-poem was OH PRECIOUS GIRL. Then after this, to complete the password, the word 90 must be added, NINETY, hence my password so to speak will be, far into the future of the Earth, OHPRECIOUSGIRLNINETY. I hit this precise combination on this 25 block keypad on the top of these shoe-box sized and shaped objects, and wham, the entire lid with this keypad, liquifies into something that I cannot explain in 2011, and out comes a moving shinning glowing object. This object is what these peeps such as the one who 3 years ago in Hammonton, New Jersey, on Middle Road next to the Wal-Mart, and again just this early afternoon here in Fort Pierce, Florida; used with me. It takes them to the exact second that I say the wrong thing over the telephone, and then they are always in a moving vehicle, as I was on a moving train remember, in 1969, this ops requires that an all ready existing motion be in the equation. This terrorist in the lime green colored van on the 2nd day in August in 1996 at the Turnersville, New Jersey Pathmark Shopping Center Parking Lot, had this entire system in his trunk, and remember, his vehicle as was my Saturn Automobile, was in motion, and was following me for miles bef9ore the big incident occurred where he threatened to murder my mothers' son, or me, and said this to her,m and then said he was going to murder her as well. This was what was being protected. If this was all some fluke, how did he know that the person in the car with her, was her son, I could have been a friend, a brother, a nephew, a neighbor doing a favor, anyone of dozens of possible other things, but he yelled out to her specifically, “I WILL KILL YOUR S-O-N”. THIS IS SORT OF LIKE MY MOTHER, ONLY THIS WAS A SMALLER 50/50 CHANCE, as every time I would up set her, she would ever since the ending late nineteen eighties, say to me over and over again, “How would you like it if your DAUGHTER said or did such and such”? These kinds of things cannot be ignored, and simply put, if things were not all fixed against me with powerful mother fucking unspeakable shit, no good detective or investigator, would even dream of dismissing these COINCIDENCES, BRAH!!!!

As for what was being discussed in the lounge area, or one of dozens of them, on many wings and floors, spread out depending on the area of this huge building, between 4 and 12 stories, and encompasses the entire area of the presently existing Haddon Hills Apartment garden apartment system in Westmont, New Jersey, with these other colleagues of mine up in the late twenty-two-nineties, and by the way, the significance to that spring of two thousand ten interaction or DREAM where the numbers of twenty and two, DUH seems clear enough to me now, but moving on now with the conversation of my avoiding this present lifetime somehow, I came to observe a diagram on a large board, and we all were wearing special glasses, and saw this board in 3-D as peeps see movies today in similar ways, and on this diagram was a complex system of MOVERS with an exact plan that was going to make and create all of this misery around me in multiple unthinkable frightening ways, and I came to learn that these boxes that resembled shoe boxes were some kind of unknown plasma mixes as well as battery powered electrical impulses, that both created and propagated as well as sustained, some living tissue if you will, that acted as a 90 light year long field when maxed out with controllable programming, also operated with the 25 keypad system once activated by proper CODED POEM PASSPRIV or CPP, this stands for what would be translated in today's technical jargon as Password Privilege. Once fields are length adjusted, widths can also be adjusted up to one times ten to the exponent of seventy-four. Exact distances are set using 'tunumeric' settings. This stands for TUNED NUMERIC. MOVERS do not all come from WORLD LAB, and WL peeps find out by 2301, that so many thousands of other labs from 3000-AD, and around this era just shy, say roughly 30-70 years or so, in the middle and late 2900's; that just as we now are under a lot of scrutiny from the WL; they also, are being watched and altered by these numerous other projects. I could go on, but the incredible interaction caused this horrible motorbike attack. If I had done this outside, I would be in the County Prison checking off days on a calendar for the next fucking fifty years. But as we all know, there are different ponds for different blonds. But this is not the unbloggable big new, and it still is forever not expressible, it is just too dangerous, and I do know for a fact that Pope B-16 knows, as if he has not figured it out yet, with all of the evidence he has access to; shame on Shirley Hinger, the Philharmonic and the Met, every good dancer and company, and Him most of all. I should have put a lot together when I remembered details about my flute playing partners in 1986 when we all were operating the mighty Land Management Corporation known in this other part of hyperspace as, Starburn Outreach Development, Corporation, with many subsidiaries, and with STUDIO PARK RECORDS, being just one of so many of them. All or most of this information is available and has been since after Halloween Day of 1994, down in Washington-13-DC, at the mighty and illustrious LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, OFFICE OF THE COPYRIGHTS, USAESMWG. Hospital hell, Dawnie Terrible Terra, all of it, it is all there, right down to Browning Road, and Brownie, right down to Midge and other great dogs, me included as Yancy. Still, I act a lot less like a dog than do most of my present time coworkers at the great Harvest that you can readily access at www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ where my photo no longer is on the rotating homepage, but if you click into the part of “STORIES”, there I am, with my Einstein hair, how I came down here with just the clothes on my back, starving and homeless, until I somehow survived, and yes, with their help. With or without them, I do not believe that my daughter would have let me just die down here. Well, I know PEE wouldn't, but then, she and Starburn, and my many billions, are a long way from home here, but I do have great faith in my wonderful Paula king Junior, with or without Spanky and his gang of pals and special Coors dogs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WL knows that the only way to help me out of this powerful mess now, OH CLEAN STANLEY the great, is to send me some GOOD MOVERS that can help PEE get over here to where I am living. Only she has the great E-BAY system, and she will not be stuck forever at the Egg Harbor Detention Center, after all, hyperspace or no hyperspace, both of my special precious daughters, and the great LOC knows this only too freaking well by now Billy J., went to the exact same named schools, and they both will leave them some day, nothing lasts forever, as my Lightning Goddess says so well in her human form and in her great late 1984 song about Island Sweeps, and Fiji callers. HELP ME PEE, I know you hear my plea and I know you can!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We may not be living together any longer at the great Roundhouse as we call it over here in this part of the localized hyperspace, you know it as the Mohr Manor of Egg Harbor, but hyperspace tells powerful true stories, and so does Leonard Nemoy from Star Trek in the Peoples Choice favorite episode on the original sixties television show, “City on the Edge of Forever”. There are similarities that all bring things closer, despite the branching out of time or 5th dimensional hyperspace (FDHS). The odds of all those numerous “recurring dreams” that I had, from around the year of 1976 while in my early twenties, until about the year of 2004 or so; about an Egg Harbor School, and my attempts to locate it, and even to go and attend it, for totally unknown, and unexplainable reasons; while all along not ever personally knowing one singe person who resided in or so much as talked to me about a location in New Jersey called, Egg Harbor City; would be astronomically equal to those odds needed for winning any large jackpot Power-Ball Lottery drawing. As for me, I do not believe in those type of coincidental things, and yet the so-called NORMAL PEOPLE that insist that I am so insane and delusional, would try and get me to believe their insane way.

It is times like this, where I pop out of a major Astral experience and then directly into as major human experience of continuing death siege that precisely patterns out with blogs from 3 years ago practically down to the mother fucking day itself, when I know that perhaps Dan Brown and Sarah, his Sarah that is, might just all be true, and since BLUEBOOK is scared shitless of these ideas, my question to any listening ear of potential reception is quite simple, clear cut, and open? Why is DAN BROWN permitted to go public with this potential planet altering information, yet let me dare show peeps that Colaman may very well be a step, and the entire story behind this since a famous song in 1969 was written as a history marker, to further back all of this up; and I am introduced to the quintessential brick wall, this is what I totally admit to not understanding. PP tells me it is because I did not do it as a made up work of fiction, yet SIR DAN BROWN did just that, and peeps took it seriously. In any case, I knew that my only chance to get back to World Lab and out of this horrible lifetime, since my shoebox was forcibly taken from me without one cannon shot being fired literally, back in 1996, by the MONSTER-ASS FIRE-MALL MAN HIMSELF, as a double bubble preventative measure, just as I now know that the falling of the buildings that I helped to name when I sent the architects my letter as a small boy, in New York City, NYUSAESMWG, the song that Donna Gaines sung about her and her friend Angela, and the descendants that I know from World Lab, all curve and bind together into some incredible and beyond unfathomable theory of the most dazzling and complex crime ever perpetrated in the history of this entire solar system, throughout the dreaming of several of them over the lifetime of the changes in solar conditions. Still, there are no permanent habitats, not even any permanent sidewalks, let alone the MOVERS who come back and start some really good secret movements, and play such wonderful old folk style organ music. Yes, I love looking up at the moon too, old friend, and also, I love HER beyond words, as she may be only the strobelights of the great GODDESS SVYLLA JEHOVAH, but I do love HER with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, I ALWAYS HAVE AND I ALWAYS WILL, AND MY BROWN EYED GIRL KNOWS THIS, otherwise she would not have said HER great words on the top of my favorite building that STILL STANDS SO TALL AND PROUD TO THIS VERY DAY, IN THE MANHATTAN SKYLINE, nor would she sing to me in my dreams and send me moonbeams, while I gaze at her long light brown HAIR, so is love just for carpenters?, as now, YOU CAN KNOW HOW I CARE!!!!

MOTORMOUTH MOUNTAINPEN will sign off 4-now folks, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE.

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0237

2011-09-30T11:51:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0237
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY:

START:

IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, AND I AM FOUND DEAD IN HERE; I HAVE BEEN MURDERED BY TRUMP, SUMMER, CALLIO, MCGUIRE, AND THE ENTIRE POWERFUL KENNEDY FAMILY.

THIS IS THE MOTHER FUCKING WORST THANKS-2-GIVENS DEATH SIEGE THAT I HAVE EVER MOTHER FUCKING BEEN UNDER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE SINCE THE START OF ALL OF THIS BULL FUCKINJG SHIT ON AUGUST 15TH IN 1986. I SWEAR AND ATTEST TO THIS PUBLIC OATH, UNDER CHARGES OF LIBEL, PURJURY, AND SLANDER, IF ANYONE CAN PROVE I AM MAKING THIS ENTIRE SHIT UP AND LYING, FOR ANY REASON OR REASONS WHATSOEVER.

ANYONE WHO EVER GOOGLED UP OR WENT TO U-TUBE SITES RESEARCHING THE TOPIC OF THE ***CHEMTRAIL***, YOU NEED TO BE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA TAKING FUCKING VIDEO TODAY, IT IS OFF THE SCALES BAD.

THE DOW JONES WILL FLY UP AND UP AND UP FOREVER NOW, THE PHILLIES WILL LOSE AND LOSE AND BLOW OUT, AND THE EVIL CHEATING VOORHEES SCUM BALL FLYERS WILL GET THEIR CHEATED WIN VICTORIES, OVER AND OVER AND WIN THE STANLEY CUP IN 2K12.

I JUST HEARD A SOUND OUTSIDE MY DOOR LIKE GUNFIRE, MAYBE THIS IS THE END FOR ME NOW, TIME FOR THE BIGGEST EXPOSURE IN THE WORLD TO TAKE PLACE, AND THE END OF THIS EVIL AGE ONCE AND FUCKING FOR ALL. NO MATTER WHAT ELSE, THE CAT WILL LOVE HIS SPECIAL DAUGHTER, EVEN IF SHE DOES NOT BELIEVE IN ME THE WAY THAT I BELIEVE IN HER. AFTER-ALL, IT WASN'T ME THAT SHOUTED THE STATEMENT OF OMNIPOTENCE FROM THE TOP OF THE GREATEST BUILDING IN NEW YORK CITY, 12 YEARS TO THE DAY FOLLOWING THE WRITING OF THE SONG, “S-A-R-A-H”, BY ME, ON MAY THE 12TH, IN 1996. IF I AM MAKING THIS ALL UP, THEN WHY IS ALL OF THIS PROOF HERE, DISPELLING THE MYTHS OF TOASTER OVEN ISLAND FIRES, AND SO VERY MUCH MORE???????

PROFESSOR B OF THE IRSC IN FLORIDA, USE YOUR SOFTWARE THAT YOU NOW HAVE, SEE WHAT THEY WILL DO TO ME THAT NOW WILL FINISH ME OFF AND END MYY LIFE, THIS IS FIRST DEGREE PRE-MEDITATED MOTHER FUCKING MURDER, AND YOUR JOB IS TO GO INTO COURT AND VINDICATE MY BLOOD, AND IF ONLY TRUMP GOES TO THE HOTEL, THAT WILL BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MAGNESONIC, YOU ARE FOREVER DESTROYED AND TERMINATED, 4 YOUR MOTHER FUCKING DISOBEDIENCE IN MY DARKEST HOUR, YOU HAVE FUCKING LET ME FUCKING ASS DOWN, YOU AND MANY OTHERS.

IN CLOSING, ALL OF MORIANITY IS PERHAPS ENDING AT THIS HOUR. THE TIME AND DATE IS PER THE STAMP ON THE POSTED VARIOUS WEBSITES. IF I DO LIVE THROUGH THIS HELL, LYMPH NODES ALL CALCIFIED AND INFLAMED, AND SHIRLEY HINGERS AND HAMMONTON BERRIES AND SOUTH AMERICAN INVASIONS, ALL NOTWITHSTANDING, LET ME JUST SAY FUCKING THIS FOLKS: IF WE ARE ALL HERE TO BE THERE FOR EACH OTHER IN THE TIMES OF MOST NEED WITH ALL OF US, THE ENTIRE WORLD WOULD BE HEAVEN, BUT AS MY MOM USED TO SAY, IT IS NOT, IT IS ONLY THE EARTH, AND THIS IS WHY PAULA KING DID HER A FAVOR BY SLEEP-ATTACKING HER WITH HER ASTRAL PLANE BRIGGBASE ABILITIES.

THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE KNOWS THAT NO HOAX THIS COMPLEX COULD HAVE BEEN PULLED OFF BY ANY HUMAN MORTAL BEING, THIS COULD NOT HAVE BEEN FAKED, AND ON TOP OF THAT, THEY KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IS HAPPENIONG TO ME, AND THEY LAUGHED AND LET IT HAPPEN, SO THIS IS SHY THIS WORLD IS DESTINED TO BE FOREVER A HELL, AS PER THE IDEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY OF MY MURDERED MOITHER BACK IN OH-MAROLA-OH.

WHEN THE SHAH OF IRAN TOLD MY AUNT GERALDINE SNOW TO HAVE HER DAUGHTER AND MY COUSIN SANDY, GET IN WITH THE GREAT MIGHTY CALLIO GANG IN THE 1960'S, THIS WAS ALL A PART OF MAJOR SHIT THAT WAS BEING FULLFILLED AND ENDING WITH ME HERE TODAY, FROM MANY TYHOUSANDS OF MOTHER FUCKING YEARS AGO, OH WELL, FROM NAZARETH TO HUNTINGTON, MANY MILES AND MANY YEARS, BUT THEN, THAT IS WHAT THE SIDEWALK SCIENTISTS KNOW THE REAL MOTHER FUCKING TRUTHS ABOUT, AND ADMITED THAT GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL WARPS THE MIND FROM SEEING THE REAL POWER BEHIND THE GREAT MIND OF EINSTEIN.

No folks, somnambulists are normally innocent victims, and only a very few are walking around with what I'll now refer to as “KING-POWERS”. PA is the Pennsylvania abbreviation, PA-u is the copyright form, and PAUL and PAULA, are in a league totally their own, right my lovely blond Emmy-Amy? I will promise this twisted evil shit one thing, and that is that after my death, the world will know beyond a doubt, that all the words on these long winded blogs, were totally accurate truths, so if my sacrifice accomplishes this and nothing else will, so fucking be it.

END OF THIS HELL. I WILL NOW BE MURDERED, I THINK!!!!!!!!

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0236

2011-09-30T02:34:00.001-07:00

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0236
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

BEGINNING OF BLOG:

Noise persecution has been used against me ever since around dinner time or six or so in the evening, on Thursday, East Coast American Time. I tried to have a nice chat with Ann King on the telephone, and a blaring fire alarm went off and made us terminate the conversation, it is so loud that Ann could not take listening to it from New Jersey, and I am down here in Fort Pierce, Florida. Then at around half past nine , a loud stereo began blaring from a neighboring apartment. As I speak now it is still going, relentlessly, and it is just shy of four in the morning, and against all rental lease rules. I fully intend to ;put a letter of complaint into the office in the morning a few hours from now. These peeps need to stop this or be evicted. I know Nick Cannon put these bastards up to this, he began persecuting me in 1996, breaking my hub cap with a hammer, and has not looked back since he was a punky sixteen year old star struck kid, with a non stop crush on my older daughter. I hope this plays until morning, when the office opens, so they can see and hear live in real time, how I lost a night of sleep, and will suffer with poor work performance on my job. I am working today, in lieu of having a couple of short hours on Tuesday and Wednesday.

As for the stock market and their cheated never ending nightmare with me, this will cause another huge day of stock gains, up between one and five hundred points on their filthy rotten cheated Dow Jones points. Hurt me and never stop making my life a living fucking hell, and the markets have one way to endlessly move, and that is FOREVER AND FOREVER, UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just you all watch and see who is right and who is wrong. Very soon, I will get on a blog every single business day, and tell you my prediction for this cheated system, and soon, some greedy mother fucker will contact me and want to know exactly how I Know so much about this, and then, just fucking ass maybe, I will be able to start down the path of getting this 1986 fucking nightmare looked into by powerful authorities and then get this all stopped once and for all, as it is illegal and criminal to destroy and ruin and wreck a mans life just to make stock prices rise, year after year, until the man is dead and buried, with his entire mother fucking life forever wiped out and obliterated.

I knew when I was abducted in my 'sleep' a few nights back, by that evil demonic fucking LAMBRIGGER CULT of the ASTRAL-PLANE, that I was about to be under the huge Naverone guns, and in bigger trouble than I would mother fucking know what to do with, and sure as shit and shooting, I was right on the perfect money, 100%.

There is no way to salvage this, and this will most definitely be 2 HUGE MONSTER ASS GAIN WEEKS FOR THE BOYS OF THE BULL ON WALL CROOKED STREET IN MANHATTAN, but I will fucking make this small statement before I sign off. The answer is not my running off to other states, or other countries, nor is it to try and fight this enemy of mine in all their power and glory and on their turf and by their insisted upon rules, doubling as the laws of the land, but rather, for me to cleverly start playing and beating this diseased filth at their very own game, beginning with me getting married and starting my own family, as this for sure, will once and for all totally destroy this EVIL EMPIRE, ONCE AND FOR ALL, and then from there, we can worry about how to proceed on from there, YO. First things first, and I do have a right to live the life that the gods gave me, and they have no right to take it away from me when I have never done anything illegal or wrong to any of them.

I can only play the hand that is dealt me each moment, each day, each year. I was totally wrong about the 2011 PITSY YEAR #4, and how this recreates the truth and reality of the new and adjusted equation, is anyone's best guess at this fucked up point folks, YO.

Once I prove that I can accurately call the market, someone will come to me and want to make billions, and as long as they are fair with me and cut me in for a fair share of the profits, I'll gladly fucking help them. But unlike tow-trucks, record promoters, record companies, HUD House projects, crooked security company managers, and the list goes on, this time, I GO TO A HOT SHOT LAWYER, AND GET SHIT ALL DOWN IN WRITING, NICE AND LEGAL, the right way, and not like the half ass shit I've managed to get myself involved with all my jerk off life.

This is literally a life/death struggle now, I know this totally well, as sure as I am typing away at at 4:13 AM.

I know why FACEBOOK took my old account away, and they had no right to, as I was trying to log in for some time, and eventually, someone would have helped me out, but no; I have been told that if I ever found out something that happened, the entire world would be altered from the time-line that MOVERS in the Majority-Group 'MG-MOVERS', are setting up, and this is a totally forbidden thing. Really smart peeps know just what is happening with me. It started on fire works night in 1969, and perpetuated into a powerful nightmare 1000 times bigger than all of the fantasy stories ever written and all combined, by the great James Patterson. It just cannot be ignored or denied, it is like denying the Holocaust. Tom Reale was so scared that things repeated the next year when I was staying with him, and I had come back to Cornwall Avenue late on the Jitney Bus, and he happened to spot me exiting and walking towards the home he had me staying in, he gave me holy hell as though he knew the story better than the all of them. This is all blogged, and was blogged long ago when these blogs were all new on the internet system in oh six and oh seven. Lisa from Dyfis in New Jersey, also knew, she doesn't fool me for a second, after all, her brother is the Atlantic County Prosecutor. She called me a family destroyer, and was horrible and evil with me, and this led Dawn to later make that monstrous comment to me that I broke up MC's parents, a total lie. Yes the time-line fits to the day, but no 17 or 18 year old boy can break up a happy family in one short visit up to relatives. Anyone who knows anything, even with the many lies on GOOGLE, can super sleuth this and connect many many many dots. There is indeed someone out here who know just shat is so powerful and connected with all of this, in the location known as Carlisle, Pennsylvania, the place that the ADA Ron Wirtz told me to go if I want to get to the bottom of all of all of this, back in 1995. Maybe I was never meant to stand a ghost of a chance, between Nick smashing up my car outside the GATHERING PLACE Psychic Shop, and Gerard Styles and Haddonwood being so eerily connected in so much as time and ghoulish endings, be it names ending in wood and starting as either Colin or Haddon.

It totally amazes me that somebody has not called the police. This is like no other night yet5, with me down here in Florida. Later, my complaint will be stated, and in writing, official, unlike some others in the world, I like it official, and in writing, we all know where we stand this way, but I respect all opinions, yet I have the right to choose not to deal with peeps who operate on a different 'modus-operandi'.

Sooner or later, MAGNESONIC will strike, and strike hard; but until it does and it regains the necessary power to do so, I must lay low and take a lot of unwarranted mother fucking punishment. The innocent seem to always be suffering for the guilty now in this evil world and evil so-called land of the free, sure it is, the rich-free!!!!!!!!!!

I call on the GOOD MOVERS for help. It has never been this fucking bad and dangerous for me, and I am all alone and isolated. Nobody gives a fucking shit ass rats cunt lapping bastard crap about me. Once a person is placed on a particular list that I know totally well, is known about by the great Documentary men known as AGENT FALCON, and AGENT CONDOR; from the WPIX-NYNY, CHANNEL ELEVEN television system in the year of 1988, you stand no chance, that is zero, squat, nada, zip, zilch, goose eggs, NONE, of ever having a normal life again. With me it all began after returning from a major abduction to the BRIGGBASE, on the 15th day of August in 1986. This entire family comes from far beyond the most distant stars and galaxies, and I know this. They may be totally unaware of it, and that means nothing.

You cannot explain these key things that each one by themselves would make the POPE drop dead:
1)The chain and the Book of Beach
2)The following morning TRINITRAIL chemtrail
3)Years of damaged property and interference every time I ever tried to do any business or money related or music related thing
4)the AFTER-2008 times, powerful hacks, powerful DREAMS that showed absolute events that took place in the future
5)All the things that the great Blue Chip AT&T knows fully well about
6)The visit from HIS EMINENCE at 65 Middle Road
7)The family kidnapping me and the plot to get Dawn King out of the Rehab Clinic of Seacaucus, NJUSAESMWG
8)My day of terror along with m,y mother, 10 years to the day and hour practically, from the set up with my daughter to add more incest into this messed up dual-family of nightmares

Well folks, I could bore you with a long lesson on sleep walking, the 5th dimension, how these two things tie together perfectly so long as you understand what is going on, and so much more. For now I remind peeps of the cuter little simple example of the high technological world that we all are living in, and thereby this little story of fiction that I'll now tell you, makes a lot of things clear if you just sit back and examine it with open minds and hearts.

Let us make this the year 2055 and you just bought the ultimate new video game for you and your family, called “Make Your Life”. You bring this home and turn it on, and put on a small baseball type of cap, and lay on a bed next to your highly advanced compute that runs on 300 terabytes or maybe more. You can connect your microphone and tell the machine exactly how you want to create your online new life to be, leaving room for choices, merely giving it a basic outline, how long in the game, who your parents will be, the entire shmeel. You decide tro use the advance setting over the lower ones, this one sends a signal to your brain beneath the ball cap, to fall into a theta level or whatever it is called, so that only your dream brain connects into the signal. Hence, as in dreams, y7ou appear to have no memory whatsoever that you exist out beyond the screen in a real life and that what you are seemingly living through is a simulation no matter how advanced the program seems to make the reality around you. Suddenly, you are in this program, you only know that you are a small child with a life that began very shortly back, you have parents, you have no real memories, and you now are in this life. Now if you take where you and I are now in this so called reality, and up it by one dimension, the only conclusion is that there is something far beyond this little created deal here, where we seemingly have no memory of squat other than our self, and our limited life here. You cannot reasonably totally dismiss this argument, and the advanced times, bears me out that indeed, great future times in all probability exist, and indeed do send themselves intro these games, this life here and all of us being just one of these infinite upline games. The so-called Astral-Plane Gods love to play GAMES. YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY do you think this might be fucking so folks? Gods are really the biblical ANGELS and DEMONS that are described. You say tomaato, and they say tomayto, it is no different than this at all. These gods gave all of us the eventual ability through time and advancement through many family lineages, to eventually always be able to also go further into the endless downline, and play more games, endlessly quantamizing or going from the infinitely larger dimensions in size, to the infinitely smaller, yet somehow by some miracle in the 7th dimension known as LAWTRONICS, it will all eventually, as do all things, come full circle and meet up, with the outer higher realm beyond it, controlling the entire thing.

240 years from now, I stood in a room and heard a great man discussing the upline/downline universe theory, and all of the equations pertaining to this fantastic and ultimate subject of debate among the future philosophers and scientists alike. The man called me over when it was all finished and he appeared to know me, I just went along with what was happening around me, sort of like that day in Carey's house back in 1975 as well as 2008. When he had spoken a few things to me and I had mustered up the boldness and courage to ask him more about his great words, he laughed uncontrollably and asked me why I was being so flippant. I came to learn in short order, that I was a descendant of myself now as Mountainpen, and had taken my theories of Reflectional time, to the level of not only 'STM', as discussed on many blogs from this year and the past year, (SPACE-TIME-MIND), but to the level of velocitronic field travel, and after so doing, an accident propelled me back not physically, but sent my mind back into a body where it was riding on a train, heading into a town in New Jersey known as Haddonfield. Suddenly, I remembered that, and I'll quote, “:This is where it all begins, it starts here, and I remember”. Shortly after this, strange peeps began coming up to me in the days and months that followed, right up to about 21 weeks later on the night of the 4th of July. The Book of the Beach talked about my encounters with the great PAULA KING, I had totally removed this from my conscious mind, but somehow a few days ago, it began surfacing. Powerful things were written in this FIRSTB JOURNAL OF MOUNTAINPEN, we can shorten this to the 'BOB of 69'. Most loyal Morians know the story, that this great journal was burned at the behest of a rape victim by the name of Russell Thaxton. Not only was he the result of his mom being raped by a filthy animal in Philadelphia one night at the beginning of 1954, but he himself was being molested at age fifteen by a thirty-something female teacher at our school, the Bancroft, on Hopkins Lane, in Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG. This went on quite a while, and one night, he got drunk and walked 3 miles or so over to my Oaklyn apartment, somehow knowing that my mother would be out with her boyfriend Sidney, my dad was in Vero Beach, Florida with his diving buddy MISTER Melvin Fisher, deserting us to go on a 10 year treasure hunt, and may I add, quite a successful find. He talked me into letting him burn up this great book of wisdom and proof that all these things were going on with a powerful family, down in Atlantic City.

This noise is seemingly going to go fucking on all night long, it is now nearly half past 5 in the morning, it began at fucking half past 9, who would listen to garbage loud music in their right mind for 8 straight mother fucking hours, FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA POLICE DEPARTMENT? I cannot be the only one that has been mother fucking cunt lapping super annoyed all night by this uncouth activity.

It is so funny, MI tells me that I am way too blunt and need to learn the art of subtlety. Yet if I do not speak directly and use the name of Mariah Carey, no one has a clue what is going on. If you would read the end of 2007 blogs that are in my name and posted on the website known as www.blogger.com/ and then go into 2008, and keep reading into the place where I stop blogging all together for about 70 days, and then restart sometime in early May of 2008, and keep reading throughout the spring and summer and into the autumn, you will be shown a story that no human being on this planet from Einstein on down, could ever hoe to be able to dream up as fiction, in a million trillion quadrillion fucking years. THIS STORY TELLS ITSELF. It is all here, and it is not going to go anyplace any time soon, except over my mother fucking DEAD BODY, BRO!!!! There is huge shit yet to say!!!!

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