SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0223

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0223
HALF PAST THREE, SATURDAY HELLIDAY AFTERNOON
THE 3RD OF SEPTEMBER OF 2011
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM, 91 IF ALIVE, AND MAYBE, HUH SSA?
SUBTITLE NUMBER 4 TO THIS BLOG:
“THE DEATH OF MISTER KLINE, AND RESURRECTION
OF MICHAEL MOUNTAINPEN”
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF RETRACED KLINE, MWM/MWM
2006-2011 ©

I am all through being intimidated and threatened by bullies. All my life I have caved in, this is why I am in Florida right now, piping hot in September, miserable, with all the worldly goods that took me a lifetime to collect, all gone. No more Donna Gaines to sing WHITE BOYS to me, and so much more. All my music is gone, all the things I had from photographs to audio and video stuff, gone forever, and then still I am left with so many of the negatives on top of that, evil and mean nasty people all over the northeast. For me, it is an endless lose-lose situation, and has been since I was old enough to get dropped on my head out on the street by my mother, accidentally or so she told me; and leaving me bruised and beginning something known by few as the HUNTINGTON-CURSE. I quit believing in the god of the bible a very long time ago, I know 100% with certainty that it is nothing but a huge balloon hoax, a not so polite way of putting it is to say that it's pure horseshit. People however, as my distant cuzz Heinz Gottwald, from the great New York Woody Guthrie Island; would say to my mom, honoring her on her 91st wherever she is hiding out in David Hayward Missouri somewhere, MISS NIXON; “Grace, religion is great for those who need it, I am all for it, as for me, I'm comfortable up here on the island, and have no need for such things”. Well, MOM/GRACE, whatever, Congressman Andrews and Albert Pileggi of 1975 and wherever I go you call my name, boom, crash, etcetera; the only difference is, “UNCLE-CUZZ” WHATEVER, I am just not as comfortable as you are, or were, as you now are stinky maggots in the ground, am I correct here, as bankers love perfection and correctness, right down to the penny.

I am under another aerial holiday mini-siege, yesterday at the local fort Pierce K-Mart-Winn Dixie shopping Center on Route Number One, here in town, FPFLUSAESMWG; I parked and was greeted by a roaring deafening aerial CRAFT of some kind, and it was CRASH LEVEL, AND ZENITHING MY POSITION, RIGHT TO THE GOTTWALD BANKERS PENNY. Today at the same area, across the street and up north a couple of blocks at my local Regis Philbin Bank of McCoy Money-Counters of the great Astral Plane Ricktown Manor, in the Olympian Province, far away from the great capitol city called SAHASRA DAL KANWAL; was a gigantic evil CHEMTRAIL. Now on both of these days, Friday and Saturday, other light sky trailing and spurious areal assaults were around me, but not quite as heavy, it slowly is building for the holiday, and for the Missourians and naysayers that will believe that air activity is naturally gonna' be picking up due to holiday travel, I know the difference between what should be in the skies above me and practically over my head and literally stalking and persecuting me, verses what should not be up there. You think and believe whatever you want to, I know one very mean person that will, despite my knowing for a fact that he knows better and has indeed witnessed stuff that is not quite cricket around me, but that is indeed the way it goes. As long as I speak in indefinite terms, I have every legal right to my blogs, my opinions, and my attorney, doctor Jack is advising me on what I am able to print and not print, so sue away, anybody, feel more than free. Just do not communicate with me any more, I do not need the intimidation, so if you wanna' do something, then do it, as I am staying within my rights, under the law, and hereby declare today,. This 91st birthday of my Doctor Hayward Nixon mother, that a death has occurred, and it is a man named Clyde Linton Clyde. MOUNTAINPEN is back, and has the right to speak, as long as he does not say things that are illegal. I told the Social Security Office back in 2006 or 2007 somewhere there about, that my mother is alive and well and living in Missouri, or someone else sure is and is impersonating her, and they ignored me and would not do anything. “Then we wonder why the government is so screwed up”, if I can quote my wonderful great daughter, Doctor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The other thing that she told me on the first day of summer in 2008, in the corner of that bizarre home, was that a huge set up happened, and that my wonderful mom as well as hers, were all in on it. Gee, it took me a long time to pull that from my memory, oh well, as you would so fittingly say here, Sir BRUCE.

Well, great Donna Whiteboys, if you can sing about these glistening poisons back in 1989, then so can I. Why not have a theme song for one of U-Tube's favorite subjects, and let the lyrics tell a few hidden secrets, YO? It's in the works as I speak peeps. Don't kill me, Jimmy, Callisurdo, Callio, Stroemeyer, I'm all ready as dead as Barnabas and Roseann will ever be, and this HC lasts for a very long time. Still, what the fuck is time to somebody that knows so many of the MOVERS? Stayers and Movers are a normal class of entities on this PHASE-3 human waking tangible caporial world. The ratio is about a million to one, with naturally, lots more STAYERS than MOVERS. Still, we all live here, and do our thing, with no help from doctor Cocalay and his dream-world casinos. Still, how could I have known about MI daughter, how could I have known before JIMMY came out on television and admitted through the back door just how hard indeed it is to kill peeps like me who are scanned continually by future forces, armed with powerful atomic lasers that can recreate anything from any place? Jane Fonda Lottery winners of Florida are knocking on the inverted 7 and 9 digit door, right Detective Lenny Briscoe? Age 14 and age 41, Ellie and Helen, and then what really is my excuse for all of your non-chemtrailed vanilla skies of the jet fighter squadrons, Tom Cruise? So what did happen, REALLY, to me when I fell mother fucking asleep and woke up on the night of AUGUST 15, 1986? Is anybody getting sick and tired of the date of August 15, 1986? Someone sure hacked the fuck out of my blog from a few past blogs ago, talking about the hit on my life on August 2nd, ten years later; and even I do not remember the details of what really was correctly typed, only that some HACKER, MISTER MCDOWELL, FUCKED IT ALL UP, FOR THE ENTIRE WORLD TO GO UP AND READ AND SEE, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mother fucking civil rights mean as much to this government as do the collective maggots of both Agnes Moorehead and Elizabeth Montgomery, with or without the loud Harley Bikes, gear changes, and dream riders!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, at least we are not discussing “Existors of the Multiverse”.

If only these cock sucking rat bastards would just leave me the shit ass hell alone, I would not do these blogs, why can't they get that, fucking YYYYYYYYYYYYYY????????????????, JIMMY? You used to tell me so many things that nobody knew, just you. Now I understand YYYYYYYYYYY UUUUUUUUUUUUU had to get my mom aside, with your friend Elsie, go up to the freaking diner in 1989, and have that secret rap session, so you were in on the secret too, wow, what a bunch of friends and associates I have in my wild collection of mystery and madness straight from DOGTOWN. The quintessential unfathomable, would be one way of summing this all up, or I could say simpler, what a freaking motley crew? Why does the great Astral Plane never stop killing me, Mister Patterson, with all these mighty combination of “MC” initials? Add them up and we have the age of Scylla, HER endless age is 16. Still, there must be so much more to all of this, and I know I'll figure it out, perhaps with a little more help from so many of my great EW friends, right John Lennon, old pal? Sorry if this made you hate me and go so crazy back in 1980, old Philly record promoter, William Leonard McKinnon. I never ever mean to hurt anybody, but these wonderful peeps sure do mean to hurt me.

Death Androids-Angels, Fonda Sleaze Clock Attacks, Noise Attacks, Neighbors, Fire Alarm Bullshit, Aerial Attacks, Job Work Attacks, Boss Attacks; it seems I am just A NO FUCKING GOOD ROTTEN SON OF A COCK SUCKING SEA SNAKE SNITCH, CAPABLE OF DOING NOTHING GOOD NOR RIGHT, & ONLY OF CAUSING UPSET AND TROUBLE WHEREVER I GO, AND SOMEONE TO BE HATED. Well move over Doctor David Hayward, as we need to team up and start our own fucking fan club, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You and me are just too very misunderstood peeps; so tell Aggie-N that I said this, as she will understand all of the nuances and implications involved, I promise you that, MO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh this lovely MILITUFORCE OTAMMITE army straight from HELL, (DOGTOWN). What should I do, find Bobby Vandegrift and then drive over to Mickey-D-Showers and punch old Ronald again, as he did so long ago? sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!! So funny, huh Sheila Hair Franklin. MAGNESONIC, you know that you gotta' do what you gotta' do, there ain't no Miss Chillie Millionth-Council doubt about this 601, be it my street address, or Lenny's Citizens Band Radio call number, Dog, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gimme' a fwuckin' bweak, DUH!!!!

All I ever wanted out of life was to be understood, and not hated for being different. Most of what has happened to me was not ever instigated by me. Paula King is the main player, and there are plenty of other players, and here is YYYYYYYYYY this claim is being made by me, THIS IS THE VERY GOOD REASON: My building was named in NYNY and destroyed, CBS and the purple autumns and my 1969 song a few months back, right, sure, just coincidental and unintentional, and then there is the ZIGGIE, ZIGGY HELLO HOT IN THE 90'S POLLUTION FUCKING COMMERCIAL, Mister Marcucci and his great adolescent wisdom from the gods only know where, Salana Dada and her Hoffa Beach Ghosts, stalked and followed ever since 1969 wherever I went, played and messed with on radio and television continually, also since 1969 right through p[resent times, so I ask you out here, what would you think about all of this. Then comes the great White-Boy lover, in some other persona, putting all this bullshit of me out to the Aquarius Records, and admitting on my blog comment space that he went out to California and made a fortune on me and my blog, just how I do not know? How would any of you like all of this mother fucking bullshit to have happened to either yourself, or someone who that you love, a parent, a sibling, a child, whatever Robert A of Oak Street. FISA must have seen my address book when they broke into my trailer back early this century and lost their fucking mind. Well, you had no mother fucking business coming in there, and no law or court gave you the mother fucking right to break all of electronic stuff, even butt wipe DICK WOLF can tell you that much, with or without Trout Lanes, Florida futures, lovely blond Serena girls, or Presidential Hopeful's.

YOU CAN ALL FUCKING BURN IN HELL; AND THAT IS MY RIGHT TO SAY ON THIS MOTHER FUCKING INTERNET, AS NOBODY HAS A GUN TO YOUR HEAD; THAT IS FORCING YOU TO READ ANY OF THIS. DON'T LIKE IT, WELL THEN TUNE IT OUT YA' SICK ASS BASTARDS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE MEDICAL PEEPS THAT WILL GO TO COURT AND SWEAR THAT I NEED THE THERAPY OF THIS BLOGGING. IT IS BETTER THAN KILLING A BUNCH OF ROTTEN PRICKS, WHO HAVE ALL WRONGED ME SO BADLY; AND I WOULD LOVE TO DO THAT, BELIEVE ME. YOU TWISTED DISEASED MOTHER FUCKERS, grow up, if you wanna'; hurt me so bad, then expect a verbal counter-attack, cock suckers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not quite as resourceful as you are, L-the THIRD, so surf on my BRO, surf on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

END TRANSHHHH, FROM THE GREATEST 86-FISH, YO.