Tuesday, May 3, 2011

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 140

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 140
wORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN-2006-2011
SEND-BACK-TEXT (SBT) DATFILE: CH-140-050311.725.69
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTENET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
BLOG SUBTITLE 3: “A LOT TO TELL IN A LITTLE TIME”

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

OK folks, short and sweet, here it is, some of it, a lot of it, but very ultra compressed for time's sake, as I never have the time I really need to write as much as I want to, so move over Paula Rainstorm of Berry-ville, New Jersey.

“Tell him about the red tower”, why don't you. Don't knock yourself down YO, my lengthy compo got me sent to a sike facility for ten freaking months where I nearly died at least on three separate distinct occasions.

As most of you know, I am madly in love with two powerful lightning goddesses, the Earth goddess, and the Goddess Jupiter. When Diana introduced me, in my my human waking world memories in present persona, MOUNTAINPEN, to the great Goddess Jupiter, and to just the smallest parts of just who and what SHE really is, was, and always has been, and that SHE is endlessly sixteen years old, the nineteen nineties had only ticked into being in my dreams here for perhaps a year or two or so. A perfectly planned ordered structure of human events and human history, every bit as real as the entire biblical accounts of a Jewish time-line consisting of many thousands of years and the entire story of a group of persons and their incredible god, Jehovah, was playing live for me and all around me, and it doesn't freaking matter who in this miserable world chooses to believe or to disbelieve my claim about this entire mess. But before I take this any further along, let me tell you what happened, and has been happening just a bit. Jim Burr said the magic ass sentence to me years ago, and that is that for me a few days is eternity, as so much shit happens in my pathetic diseased and totally fucked up life, and that I am caught up in the ultimate battle and war that this entire planet is totally in the fucking middle of, right now, and has been for about thirteen thousand human years of this powerful awesome and nearly surreal inter-dream, that you all choose to refer to as the real waking world life, and that is fine and well. One person sees the same accident quite a bit differently than another person. Just ask any damn police officer if I am lying or speaking a powerful truth here folks, YO. The WOMO enemies woke me up this fucking morning with a very nasty ass sore throat, yet there were no visible toxins in the sky, formed or dissipated. Go figure, DUH, like they can't pull that off. Aniwho MCMCAAONMC, powerful shit happened at my job. One of the bosses was in the wild interaction back on the electrical number of April, and we got talking, and I came to learn that some of her peeps, as were my dad's peeps, hailed and were from areas in Ohio, that were all quite near to both Toledo and Troy, the birth place of my father, and the place where the family there began settling. This is only the extreme tip of a huge ice berg however. I came to learn that other things happened at the end of last week while I was on my off-days, as I only work the weekly scheduled shift of 9-3 on M-T-W, since the recent cutback with the AARP Program, and this is working out just fine, as two things have also recently occurred that makes this schedule change as well as reduced funds and monies in my spendable purse as they say on freaking Wall Street-NYC, and details are totally none of anybody's freaking bizz, YO. What I will say is that a set of events all connected up that would never have connected up if I had not mentioned one little part of this wild late April dreaming-interaction to one friend I can really trust, and it was not that this person said anything or even did anything, but this is difficult to explain, so just try and take my word for it when I say, that still and all, this caused two persons with power who were not all that fond of me, to do quite an unspeakable thing, and get caught, John Denver Henningsen, and now, the little prick who was gonna kick me in a not so nice place years ago, lost one of his peeps who was making my life totally miserable, and making me walk on egg shells. I am not happy to see anyone suffer, but then again, unlike the masses of peeps that are celebrating the death of MISTER HOUSE-IN-SHOP-TAPE-DIVERSIONAL TERRORIST, this never enters my mind to do such a thing. First of all, long before this decade is over, peeps will see through as powerful wild parlor trick that I was force3d to perform, and this is far from MI RGG open reel master recording taper made in 1986 in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, still, let us go no further down this unsafe road as too many mines and booby traps are all along and around it waiting literally to go BOOM! Still, this is why even before I realized it, a certain person attempted to do something that would have killed a normal person not under automatic laser retrace scan such as myself. New forces are in play now, and I will be OK, John King, no need for me to be so careful making my auto payments on time. Tomorrow, you will have my payment, right up there on Highway one, old buddy and friend of Miss Kathy Lee. On top of this, I will be escaping a new bitch and a new nightmare, the great sick in the head social worker, MISS LEE, nails and all, OUCH, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY SENATOR TOMS SON, GOOD RIDDENCE??????? Man, you took the words right out of my mother fucking mouth kind sir!!!On to[p of all of this and a lot more unspeakable things and items going on all around me, let me tell you that my personal address and phone book was examined by FISA early this century, when they busted into my fucking trailer back in Mullica, New Jersey, and broke hundreds of dollars of audio equipment. This has all been fact checked and documented. This shit all happened. So did highway 295, and so did the McDonnell Douglas truck driver MISTER JACKSON who also tried to kill me that early 1988 morning. All of these things are documented in courts, they happened right here in the real waking world, 'this universe', not some fucking parallel reality, and I could go on and on with shit from Arthur Bancroft to Shoepants Security Posts, to Judge Kadufski wanting to jail me and not for messing with any sixteen year old teen queens, but for trying to learn who is stopping me from my life, such as in this particular case, that jerk off mother fucking attorney in Cherry Hill by the name of Colflesh. Now the news is telling how blogs that talk about powerful peeps can be blocked. Time for me to get active and personally pay a fucking visit to the AMERICAN CIVIL FUCKING LIBERTIES UNION (ACLU), having nothing to do with getting the King's permission to fornicate, still, one of your peeps isn't able to hurt me any longer, he didn't get one of the King's permission, oh dear, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!! You all make me totally mother fucking ill, YO, you cunt lapping powerful ass hypocrites. Go screw your daughters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh never mind, I always get beaten to punches, so I better stay the hell out of the fucking boxing profession, YO! This entire world seems to go out of its way to make me sick. Pee, my love, what did I ever do? I am not JOE TWIST. I watched this dude literally wipe the life of MISS Dawn-Marie King out and tear it apart at the speed of freaking ass light cubed. This evil shit Joe Twist, messed up more than one life, it wiped my life out as well, but this has nothing to do, or does it, with what Diana was trying to do after the initial time passed where she introduced herself to me from 1983 through about 1991 somewhere, and then after eight lonely sad years of tears and Highview cheers and Christy's beers, came her telling me about her wonderful younger cousin, Stacey. Then from there, things literally went thermonuclear in and at quantitative patterns and velocities.

Good riddance, APRIL LEE, you treated me like a fucking dog, and now you will be nothing but dust in my path, right along with Dawn. Go throw a table at somebody, YO!!!!!!!! How can you think any of this is funny MI wonderful TQ, how? Please explain that in some future song to me right here in this waking world? I mean those stairs, I cannot believe you let LD do that, it is blowing my freaking unlucky mind seven times over MI. Tell me if all of these things really are mere coincidences, OK Curly? Was this mean trick 'his' idea, or was it yours? I cried for days you know.

I will tell some powerful things very soon. Maybe it is time for me to stop worrying about any ramifications. 3 hots and a cot for me, is not that much worse than all my hell, day in and day out, year after mother fucking year. Also, you did invite me in and wanted me to see this horrible thing, whatever it was and still is. Now in the hands of the kicker, wow, is there any doubt in my mind how dangerous this entire situation has all blossomed into? The answer to this is simple John DH, of Colorado, (NO). And did I forget to make the powerful ass connection with the stairs of Tom Reale and the nightmares that followed and the room that moves, and the clock and the telephone, and the cold hotel room and the heater machine, you fiendish child controlling screwed up hub cap banger thug, you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The initials on the thing s ay it all, but whether you have this out there or not or have it in a transdimensional place in another Lakehouse, you will never get away with killing me, you sick son of a bitch; so remember that one MISTER park bench puke thrower. I saw your other buddy today too Lenny, he doesn't fool me, or Sandy, or Sandy. My cousin will never know all the shit she caused me with her mom and their pal the Shah of Iran in the seventies. Stay off that boat Jimmy Dean, I'm watching you, leave my freaking cousin Chrissy alone there bud.

You and me just know too much, huh Whoopee. That old sense of feeling when amplified with all those pico-glories or piglopies of asapian power, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit, what are we gonna do, you old original ghost buster, you? A lot more than this feels wrong, old nuns, new nuns, even the mighty Robert Cheatley “Patterson”, oh the gods, why did you and Angela have to fuck with my buildings, MIZZ GAINES??????????

At exactly eleven fucking of the clock this morning at work, peeps, the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL struck my watch, again, AND NOW I AM TAKING IT OVER TO K-MART TO COMPLAIN, AND GET ANOTHER ONE, THIS IS THE
THIRD WATCH NOW, IN AN EIGHT MONTH STRETCH. This is fucking total ass bullshit. Peeps need to Google around and see the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL for the evil and pure horror show that it is. This is no fucking joke or game, LD, or anyone else, YO!!!!! SO LAUGH THIS OFF AT C-SQ.

Lew me wrap up shit for right now and just say that I know that peeps have used things for the greater good of humankind, and this is not to my objection. Just don't sell me out and try making a profit. I hate greedy fucking peeps. I hate Wall Street. I hate evil rotten sin, not the sinners, the freaking ass sin. SSJKK taught me this. But then, this is no secret, HER mighty words are [plain and simple for all to read and learn about.

BYE-BYE Planet Earth. Remember that you can argue what your senses tell you or even think I have created as huge bunch of parlor tricks, but the simple reality is that I have two powerful goddesses that love to play games, and this is an inescapable truth for me, so I accept what cannot be altered, I have courage, I believe in the great optimists creed, YO. I have wisdom enough to know the damn difference between what I can and cannot do in my interactions with both Diana Arteemis and Sarah-Stacey Krassle, pipe running and all © office, YO! The first time I booted up the machine, a weird double fucking screen would not go away so I had to log off and re-start. Every single day the great MC has to come out of the mighty Bermuda Triangle and fuck the hell with me, wow, Aunt Geraldine ass Snow, I am so damn impressed, you and the freaking Shah, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Another fucking MC-ODF hack, wow, look at you, (BUT) then, I could ignore this silly game Henry Fonda and merely reply with, “Fuck this shit”, and then just plead, NOT GUILTY, so pardon me there Swish Watchmaker, and also, the great Satellite World Interconnection System, soon to arrive on the scene in many parallel realities, who knows, maybe here too, YO. What do you think Whoopee?

END TRANSMISSION:

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